Leibniz. Philosophical Papers and Letters

GOTTFRIED WILHELM LEIBNIZ
PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS AND LETTERS

The New Synthese Historical Library
Texts and Studies in the History of Philosophy
VOLUME 2
Managing Editor:
SIMO KNUUTIILA, University of Helsinki
Associate Editors:
DANIEL ELLIOT GARBER, University of Chicago

RICHARD SORABJI, University of London
Editorial Consultants:
JAN A. AERTSEN, Free University, Amsterdam

ROGER ARIEw, Virginia Polytechnic Institute
E. JENNIFER ASHWORTH, University of Waterloo
MICHAEL AYERS, Wadham College, Oxford
GAIL FINE, Cornell University
R. J. HANKINSON, University of Texas
JAAKKO HINTIKKA, Boston University, Finnish Academy
PAUL HOFFMAN, University of California, Riverside
DAVID KONSTAN, Brown University
RICHARD H. KRAUT, University of Illinois, Chicago
ALAIN DE LIBERA, Ecole Pratique des Hautes Etudes, Sorbonne
JOHN E. MURDOCH, Harvard University
DAVID FATE NORTON, McGill University
LUCA OBERTELLO, Universita degli Studi di Genova
ELEONORE STUMP, St. Louis University
ALLEN WOOD, Cornell University
The titles published in this series are listed at the end of this volume.
GOTTFRIED WILHELM LEIBNIZ
PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS
AND LETTERS
A Selection Translated and Edited, with an Introduction by

LEROY E. LOEMKER
SECOND EDITION
KLUWER ACADEMIC PUBLISHERS

DORDRECHT ! BOSTON ! LONDON
ISBN-13: 978-90-277-0693-5 e-ISBN-13: 978-94-010-1426-7
DOl: 10.1007/978-94-0 I 0-1426-7
Published by Kluwer Academic Publishers,

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First edition: 1956 by Chicago University Press, Chicago

Second edition: 1969 by D. Reidel Publishing Co., Dordrecht
Second edition/second print: 1989 by Kluwer Academic Publishers
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© 1989 by Kluwer Academic Publishers
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To Priscilla
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION
The selections contained in these volumes from the papers and letters of Leibniz are
intended to serve the student in two ways: first, by providing a more adequate and
balanced conception of the full range and penetration of Leibniz's creative intellectual
powers; second, by inviting a fresher approach to his intellectual growth and a
clearer perception of the internal strains in his thinking, through a chronological
arrangement. Much confusion has arisen in the past through a neglect of the develop-
ment of Leibniz's ideas, and Couturat's impressive plea, in his edition of the Opuscu/es
et fragments (p. xii), for such an arrangement is valid even for incomplete editions.
The beginning student will do well, however, to read the maturer writings of Parts II,
III, and IV first, leaving Part I, from a period too largely neglected by Leibniz criticism,
for a later study of the still obscure sources and motives of his thought.
The Introduction aims primarily to provide cultural orientation and an exposition
of the structure and the underlying assumptions of the philosophical system rather
than a critical evaluation. I hope that together with the notes and the Index, it will
provide those aids to the understanding which the originality of Leibniz's scientific,
ethical, and metaphysical efforts deserve.
My indebtedness to all who have in some measure aided me in the preparation of
the translations and interpretations is so extensive as to forbid detailed acknowledg-
ment. Professor Paul Schrecker, whose knowledge of the thought forms and relations
of Leibniz, and indeed, of seventeenth century thought in general, is unsurpassed,
has read and corrected a large number of the translations, particularly in Volume I,
and should be credited with setting norms for accuracy and adequacy.
Professor Elizabeth DeLacey has exercised extensive editorial supervision, caught
many defects, and suggested changes which have consistently improved the work.
Beyond the extensive work of these, there are many others who deserve my gratitude
for help rendered. A fellowship of the Rosenwald Foundation in 1938 and a grant
from an anonymous source in 1951 enabled me to begin a detailed study of Leibniz,
to make use of the Hanover manuscripts, and to confer with European scholars.
The editors of the Prussian Academy edition, and the directors of the Hanover Landes-
bibliothek, gave generous advice and opportunities for study. Professor Helmut Kuhn,
now of the University of Munich, checked the translations. For detailed answers to
many questions I am indebted to more friends and colleagues than I can conveniently
name.
Publication was subsidized in part by a grant from the Research Committee of the
University Center in Georgia, generously enlarged by Emory University. More
important even than this, however, has been the climate of study provided by Emory
University and its administration during troubled years of war and of uncertain
peace.
viii PREFACE
To acknowledge with gratitude the social co-operation required in such work is a

pleasure which does not, however, remove the uneasy recognition that the responsi-
bility for errors and other blights on the usefulness of these translations, being the
fruits of solitary decision, must be borne by the translator and editor himself.
All parentheses in the text are Leibniz's own, though some of his parentheses have
been removed. All editorial interpolations are in brackets. Leibniz's own underscoring
has been retained except when he used it to indicate direct quotation. The keys used
throughout in references to the editions of Leibniz and related works may be identified
in the Bibliography.
Emory University. Georgia
The appearance of a corrected edition of these Leibniz translations provides an op-

portunity to thank many who have suggested improvements in the text, and in particu-
lar Professor L. J. Russell of Birmingham and Professor G. H. R. Parkinson of
Reading for their numerous corrections. I must also acknowledge gratfully the help
given by Mrs. Linda Cornett, Mrs. Margaret Wood, and Mr. J. Brooke Hamilton in
making the textual changes involved, and that of Mr. Grant Luckhardt in revising
the Index.
L.E.L.
Emory University, 1969

T ABLE OF CONTENTS
Preface vii
Introduction: Leibniz as Philosopher 1

I. The 17th Century 2
II. Leibniz's Life and Work 4
III. The Metaphysical Pattern 13
IV. Leibniz's Method 19
V. Logic and the Principles of Truth and Reality 23
VI. Mathematics and Philosophy 28
VII. Physics and the Realm of Nature 31
VIII. Biology 35
IX. Psychology 37
X. Theory of Knowledge 41
XI. Summary: Structure and Purpose 44
XII. Ethics and Social Thought 46
XIII. Theology 49
XIV. Leibniz's Consistency and Influence 54
Bibliography 63
PART I. MAINZ AND PARIS, 1666-76 71
1. Dissertation on the Art of Combinations, 1666 (Selections) 73
I. Demonstration of the Existence of God 73
II. Corollaries for Disputation 74
III. Cum Deo! 76
Definitions 77
Problems 78
2. A New Method for Learning and Teaching Jurisprudence, 1667 (Selections
from Part I) 85
Part I. General and Common to All Faculties: on a Basis for Studies in
General 85
3. Letter to Jacob Thomasius, 1669 93
4. Letter to Thomas Hobbes, 1670 105
5. Theological Writings Related to the Catholic Demonstrations, 1668-70 109
I. The Confession of Nature against Atheists, 1669 109
II. A Fragment on Dreams 113
III. On Transubstantiation, 1668(?) 115
Supplement: Notes on the Eucharist, 1668 118
6. Preface to an Edition of Nizolius, 1670 (Selections) 121
x T ABLE OF CONTENTS
7. Elements of Natural Law, 1670-71 131

8. Studies in Physics and the Nature of Body, 1671 139
I. The Theory of Abstract Motion: Fundamental Principles 139
II. An Example of Demonstrations about the Nature of Corporeal Things
Drawn from Phenomena 142
9. Letter to Magnus Wedderkopf, 1671 146
10. Letter to Antoine Arnauld, 1671 (Selection) 148
11. Letter to Simon Foucher, with Notes on Foucher's Reply to Des Gabets,
1675 151
12. Selections from the Paris Notes, 1676 157
13. Letter to Henry Oldenburg, 1675 165
14. Two Notations for Discussion with Spinoza, 1676 167
PART II. HANOVER TO THE ITALIAN JOURNEY, 1676-87 171

15. On a Method of Arriving at a True Analysis of Bodies and the Causes of
Natural Things, 1677 173
16. Letter to Arnold Eckhard, 1677 177
17. Dialogue, 1677 182
18. Letter to Herman Conring, 1678 186
19. Letter to WaIter von Tschirnhaus, 1678 192
20. On the Ethics of Benedict de Spinoza, 1678 196
Part I. On God 196
21. What is an Idea? 1678 207
22. Letters to Nicolas Malebranche, 1679 (Selections) 209
23. Two Dialogues on Religion, ca. 1678 (Selections) 213
I. Dialogue between Poliander and Theophile 213
II. Dialogue between Polidore and Theophile 216
24. On the General Characteristic, ca. 1679 221
25. On Universal Synthesis and Analysis, or the Art of Discovery and Judgment,
1679(?) 229
26. Two Studies in the Logical Calculus, 1679 235
I. Elements of Calculus 235
II. Specimen of Universal Calculus 240
27. Studies in a Geometry of Situation, 1679 248
I. Letter to Christian Huygens, 1679 248
II. Supplement 249
III. On Analysis Situs 254
28. Letter to John Frederick, Duke of Brunswick-Hanover, 1679 259
29. On Freedom, ca. 1679 263
30. "First Truths", ca. 1680-84 267
31. Selections from Leibniz's Correspondence, 1679-84 272
I. To Christian Philipp, 1679 272
II. To Philipp, 1680 273
III. To Frantyois de la Chaise, 1680 273
IV. To Veit Ludwig von Seckendorf, 1683 275
V. To Walter von Tschirnhaus, 1684 275
TABLE OF CONTENTS xi
32. On the Elements of Natural Science, ca. 1682-84 277

I. The Plan of the Book 277
II. An Introduction on the Value and Method of Natural Science 280
33. Meditations on Knowledge, Truth, and Ideas, 1684 291
34. A Brief Demonstration of a Notable Error of Descartes and Others Con-
cerning a Natural Law, 1686 296
35. "Discourse on Metaphysics", 1686 303
36. Correspondence with Arnauld, 1686-87 (Selections) 331
37. Letter of Mr. Leibniz on a General Principle Useful in Explaining the Laws
of Nature through a Consideration of the Divine Wisdom; to Serve as a
Reply to the Response of the Rev. Father Malebranche, 1687 351
Introduction to Parts III and IV 355
PART III. HANOVER TO THE DEATH OF ERNEST AUGUST, 1690-98 357

38. Letter to Arnauld, 1690 359
39. On the Method of Distinguishing Real from Imaginary Phenomena 363
40. On the True The%gia Mystica, ca. 1690(?) 367
41. A Study in the Logical Calculus 371
42. Critical Thoughts on the General Part of the Principles of Descartes, 1692 383
On Part I 383
On Part II 391
43. Correspondence with Huygens, 1692-94 (Selections) 413
44. From the Ethical and Legal Writings, 1693-1700 421
I. From the Preface of the 'Codex Juris Gentium Diplomaticus' 421
II. From the Preface to the Mantissa Codicis Juris Gentium 424
III. On Wisdom 425
IV. On Natural Law 428
A Classification of Societies or Communities 429
45. On the Correction of Metaphysics and the Concept of Substance, 1694 432
46. Specimen Dynamicum, 1695 435
47. I. A New System of the Nature and the Communication of Substances, as
weIl as the Union between the Soul and the Body, 1695 453
II. "Second Explanation of the New System", 1696 459
48. Letter to Gabriel Wagner on the Value of Logic, 1696 462
49. Letters to Des Billettes, 1696-97 472
50. Tentamen Anagogicum: An Anagogical Essay in the Investigation of Causes,
ca. 1696 477
51. On the Radical Origination of Things, 1697 486
52. Clarification of the Difficulties which Mr. Bayle has found in the New
System of the Union of Soul and Body, 1698 492
53. On Nature Itself, or on the Inherent Force and Actions of Created Things,
1698 498
PART IV. HANOVER UNDER GEORGE LOUIS, 1698-1716 509

54. Correspondence with John Bernoulli, 1698-99 511
xii TABLE OF CONTENTS
55. Correspondence with De Voider, 1699-1706 515

56. Letter to Varignon, with a Note on the 'Justification of the Infinitesimal
Calculus by That of Ordinary Algebra', 1702 542
I. Letter to Varignon, February 2, 1702 542
II. Justification of the Infinitesimal Calculus by That of Ordinary Algebra,
1701 545
57. On What is Independent of Sense and of Matter, 1702 547
58. Reflections on the Doctrine of a Single Universal Spirit, 1702 554
59. Reflections on the Common Concept of Justice, 1702(?) 561
60. Reply to the Thoughts on the System of Pre-Established Harmony contained
in the Second Edition of Mr. Bayle's Critical Dictionary, Article Rorarius
1702 574
61. Considerations on Vital Principles and Plastic Natures, by the Author of
the System of Pre-Established Harmony, 1705 586
62. Letter to Hansch on the Platonic Philosophy or on Platonic Enthusiasm,
1707 592
63. Correspondence with Des Bosses, 1709-15 596
64. Conversation of Philarete and Ariste, following a Conversation of Ariste
and Theodore, ca. 1711 618
65. Remarks on the three Volumes Entitled Characteristics of Men, Manners,
Opinions, Times, ... 1711, 1712 629
66. The Principles of Nature and of Grace, based on Reason, 1714 636
67. "The Monadology", 1714 643
68. Letters to Nicolas Remond, 1714-15 654
69. Letters to Louis Bourguet, 1714-15 661
70. The Metaphysical Foundations of Mathematics, after 1714 666
71. The Controversy between Leibniz and Clarke, 1715-16 675
Index 722
INTRODUCTION: LEIBNIZ AS PHILOSOPHER
The 300th birthday of Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz was widely observed in 1946 but
nowhere more appropriately, though unintentionally, than in the complex ritual of
exploding the fourth atomic bomb at Bikini on the exact anniversary day, July I,1 It is
not only that he was the first to argue that force is the essence of matter. It is rather
that, second to none is his faith in science, and a forger of its new mathematical tools
and social instruments, the academies, he was also vigorous in opposing the divorce
between truth and action, and between power and its moral controls, which was
already weakening the Western will. No event could better have reminded the thought-
ful of the power released by modern science and of the failures of modern wisdom. It
was the 17th century whose great achievements and crucial decisions led to our own
cultural conflicts, but it was the wise men of that century, too, who first saw the dangers
and sought ways of avoiding them. And among these Leibniz was one of the last to
offer a unified and inclusive answer for the problems of European life.
Our century can appreciate a man whose motto was "Pars vitae, quoties perditur
hora, perit", and who expressed his sense of the dynamic in such maxims as "Aus Taten
werden Leute".2 Not only have we verified his conviction that substance is activity.
We are still working to achieve his dream of a universal grammar and strategy of
science. We have rediscovered the value of his idea of an 'art of symbols' to standardize
mathematical operations, mechanical assemblies, and orderly procedures of all kinds.
The great calculators which we have constructed are more perfect applications of a
conception which Leibniz applied to the complicated little mathematical machines on
which he spent his income for so many decades. We have overtaken and surpassed his
insights into mathematics, logic, and psychology. But our greatest unsolved problem is
still, in essence, that whose solution served as a unifying goal of his efforts - a scien-
tific, legal, religious, and moral basis for social order.
It is timelessness rather than timeliness, however, that justifies the study of a philos-
opher. The fascination which Leibniz's insights have aroused in so many minds is due
less to his relation to his own times - or to ours - than to the breadth and substance of
his thought. Though he never philosophized in a vacuum, the range of problems upon
which he worked creatively was wider than that of any other modern thinker; it
covered the entire intellectual enterprise from mathematics and logic through the
sciences to ethics, law, and theology. He was continuously engaged with these pro-
blems for over 50 years, sometimes attaining clarity and sometimes not, but always
striving for coherence and harmony through the formulation of first principles. His
spirit was at once creative and conciliatory, a rare combination which Bertrand Russell
and others have held destroyed his integrity as a thinker. Most important of all, the
principles of method in terms of which he sought to harmonize all truth form one of
the enduring types of philosophy, and those who approach speculation from logic, or
mathematics, or science, or religion have repeatedly been impelled to return to them.
For references see p. 58

2 LEIBNIZ: PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS AND LETTERS
He himself defined the grounds which, paraphrased, justify a more extensive transla-
tion of his works; in preparing an edition of Marius Nizolius, an obscure rhetorician
of the century preceding, he gave as his reasons "a basis for discourse, and the time of-
the author; a basis for discourse, because it is worthy of a philosopher, and the time
of the author because he is worthy of our own" (G., IV, 138; cf. No.8, below).
I. THE 17TH CENTURY
The time of the author is the clue to his motives as philosopher. The 17th century
stirred with decisions - and with a growing fear of crisis. The heir of the Renaissance,
it felt the spirit of freedom and mastery but also the rude shocks and clashes which
marked the collapse of those medieval controls upon which it stilI depended in go-
vernment, law, education, and religion. The Treaty of Westphalia, ending Europe's
most devastating war - until our own days - had finally destroyed Europe's devotion
to the old bases of peace and unity and had substituted the principle of nationalism
sanctioned by religion and buttressed by power politics. The interests of royal families,
different languages, and separate traditions of law and culture were spurs to political
pluralism; but a much-altered Corpus Juris Civilis, the Turkish danger, a Pan-European
educational system surviving from the Middle Ages, and the new science provided
some impetus toward political and cultural unity.
Between the opposing forces of unity and disintegration, of conservation and inno-
vation, were diplomacy and the churches. The balance of power shifted as adroit
statesmen countered the dangers of concentrated power. Of the old Holy Roman
Empire there remained but the titles and trappings and an aggregation of states whose
self-interest often conflicted with their loyalty to the remaining focus of the empire in
Austria. France, now unified, became the center of European power and the symbol of
its culture. In England and Holland political revolution was determining the principles
of modern liberalism, and its human type as well - the citizen-patriot-merchant. The
small courts of northern and western Europe became unduly powerful through their
bargaining strength in the great game of war potentials; Mainz, Hanover, and Berlin,
to mention only three with which Leibniz was intimately involved, were not second in
political astuteness even to Paris, London, and Vienna. The economic patterns of the
Renaissance had made possible the accumulation of new wealth; explorer and entre-
preneur provided new materials and new crafts for the enrichment of the new nations.
However slow by modern standards, commerce and communication 3 were creating a
European taste. Modem economic theory and practice were evolving and being
fixed, partly in the cabinets of monarchs, partly in the counting-houses of merchants;
capitalism and the beginnings of state socialism thus developed side by side, until
the destruction of absolutism in government facilitated the triumph of private enter-
prise.
Divided against itself, Christianity too became the tool of power. Having failed to
control the new forces of nationalism and capitalism by imposing a unitary moral
order upon them 4, the church now became involved in an effort to revive its own spirit-
ual power. Theological controversy was the inevitable intellectual deposit from this
effort; the problem of divine grace and its relation to man's freedom engaged Catholic
and Protestant alike, with the mystics adding the force of living experience, but confu-
sion as well. Jesuits were viewed with distrust because their compromises and strategy
INTRODUCTION: LEIBNIZ AS PHILOSOPHER 3
fitted the new spirit of freedom too well; Jansenists were condemned for their mis-
givings about this same freedom. Since the fall of Rome, Christianity had never been
more self-critical, and theological argument had become the tool of this critical re-
examination.
Most unifying and productive, however, seemed the rapid advance of science and
technology. The 17th century felt a simple awe at the wonderful harmonies of nature
which science was revealing and at man's power in creating tools for discovering them.
With a rapidity that may seem appalling in retrospect, the age permitted a breach to
widen between the humanistic and the scientific interests of the Renaissance. Early in
the century scientists had developed both a permanent method and a social aim. The
method was at once experimental and mathematical, Kepler and Galileo having shown
with what advantage the two might be combined. The aim was universal well-being;
Bacon had popularized the human worth of the new science. Yet the tendency to
reduce human ends to such as could be attained by scientific discovery and control
alone soon followed. Before the century closed, Leibniz himself could write to his
friend Thomas Burnet as follows, despite his high esteem for Yergil, whom he once
called his Leibbuch second only to the Bible.
I do not begrudge the excellent Mr. Dryden the fact that his Vergil has won more than a
thousand pounds sterling for him; this is the least that he deserved. But I wish that Mr. Halley
might gain four times as much, at least, to make his voyage around the world and discover for
us the secret of magnetic declination, and that Mr. Newton might gain this tenfold, and even
more, to continue his profound studies without interruption. I am distressed at the destruction
of Holbein's pictures, which were burned at Whitehall; yet I am a little in the sentiment of the
Czar of Muscovy, who, I have been told, admired certain ingenious machines more than all of
the pictures which he was shown in the royal palace [1698; G., III, 222-23].
Curiosite came to rank high among the courtier's virtues, as every man of intellectual
pretensions became also a scientific dilettante. While universities, with notable excep-
tions, still sought to admit humanistic learning without ceasing to be strongholds of
Scholasticism, the new science was forming its own social instruments independently,
in the scientific academies andjoumals.
In spite of the promise of scientific universalism, however, the age of Leibniz felt
within itself the beginnings of tragedy, sensing its failure to perfect its social and moral
controls. This sense of conflict and impending collapse appeared in the ethical problem
of the nature of the just and the free man. The English Revolution was a revolution of
Puritans, that is to say, Augustinian Platonists. Beginning as a revolt against tyrants
in the interest of law, it implied a new conception of the individual- one essential to a
century preferring order to freedom. Whatever their other differences, few of his
critics disagreed with Leibniz's own conviction that true freedom must be consistent
with universal harmony. Most of them, like him, feared another revolution, in which
the libertine, the esprit jort, threatened to replace the man of honor (homo honestatis,
homme honnete). 5 The latter was the courtier, who found his true freedom in exemplary
obedience to the law of his sovereign and his court. The libertine, in contrast, deman-
ded a freedom independent of external law and order, seeking to create his own law
from within. The literature of the century abounded in praise for the one but showed
a persistent distrust for the other. The crisis of the European consiciousness, which
Paul Hazard has placed in the years of Leibniz's mature activity 6, was the crisis of the

honorable man, who must either give way to the libertine or find an object of alle-
giance more permanent and universal than that of earthly ruler and law.
It is in this crisis that Leibniz takes his stand with the honorable man, and it is
through his eyes that he seeks an intellectual basis for Europe's futUIe. Science, law,
and religion are to be grounded on universal order and a universal monarch, the ruler
of the inseparably interwoven kingdoms of nature and of grace. It is only by alle-
giance to such an order that the man of honor, his honnetete enlarged by the cardinal
virtues of curiosite in science, charite in human relations, andpiete toward the supreme
ruler, can preserve himself and Europe.
II. LEIBNIZ'S LIFE AND WORK
Leibniz was 2 years old when the Thirty Years' War ended, having been born in the
old Protestant university town of Leipzig in 1646. His childhood and youth were spent
in an academic atmosphere, for both parents belonged to families esteemed for their
connection with the university and the legal profession. His intellectual growth was
precocious, though perhaps not so much as he later recalled it to be, and the auto-
didacticism of which he later boasted seems to have consisted chiefly in a certain inde-
pendence and originality in pursuing studies which interested him beyond his school
work - first Latin and history, then the Church Fathers, and later the logical structure
of propositions and syllogisms. More significant, perhaps, is the sense of a call with
which his father, impressed by certain omens of divine favor toward the young child,
may have imbued him before he died in Leibniz's 6th year. One of the pen names under
which the great projects for the unification of science and religion were later planned
was partly translation and partly transliteration of his own name, Gottfried Leibniz,
into Pacidius Lubentianus, a form expressive of the religious virtues of peace and good
will which he sought to nurture.
Leibniz's university training, which pointed toward legal scholarship, was not
outstanding. Except for a semester at Jena, where he heard the lectUIes of the erudite
and imaginative Erhard Weigel, reconciler of Plato, Aristotle, and Euclid, his studies
were completed in the still strongly Scholastic tradition of his home university. In-
struction served to develop the weighty learnedness which his early works display, but
of his teachers only Jacob Thomasius seems to have stirred him to an active will to
engage in the living issues of thought (No.3). It was probably in 1664, after 3 univer-
sity years, and not at the age of 15, as he himself later recalled, that he walked in the
Rosenthal, trying to decide between the old philosophy of substantial forms and the
new of atomism and the machine, and at length cast his vote for the new, yet without
ever really rejecting the essentials of the old. His early writings indicate that, aside
from Bacon, he knew the modems only by hearsay or through the compendious
summaries of his textbooks; he began the serious study of Hobbes several years later
and of Descartes only during his years in Paris after 1672. With little mathematics
beyond Euclid, but with a thorough knowledge of traditional philosophical and theo-
logical issues, he went into the study oflaw, succeeding, as he later says, in mixing some
practical experience with his theoretical learning. For unclear reasons, apparently
related to a failure to receive priority for a subordinate post in the law facuity, he
withdrew to the University of Altdorf after completing his baccalaureate in law, and
there he received a doctorate and was eventually offered a university position.
Four academic writings contain the beginnings of Leibniz's own thought, but with
one exception their importance for the student of his philosophy is only indirect. This
exception is the Dissertation on the Art of Combinations, published in 1666 as the first
fruit of his logical studies. It points to a program for arriving at an exhaustive inven-
tory and arrangement of human knowledge by means of a method of analysis and
synthesis, using principles of permutation or combination as the basis of its enumera-
tions - a refinement of the old Lullian art. Leibniz's later conception of a universal
calculus was to grow out of the position developed in this work (No.1). Of the other
three, the earliest is a display piece in traditional Scholastic form, the Metaphysical
Disputation on the Principle of Individuality (1663), important only because it concerns
one of his basic philosophic emphases; the others are studies in legal casuistry,
applying probability to the settlement of doubtful cases in the law. They have some
bearing on the development of his later ideas about truths of fact.
In Niirnberg, however, a center in which the new sciences were beginning to flourish
and where he himself was inducted into the Rosicrucian Society, his mind seems to have
teemed with projects to be achieved at courts, not in universities - projects for the
reform of law and of education for the law; for academies, libraries, and other agencies
for advancing science; for the strategy of European politics. A chance meeting with the
Baron John Christian von Boineburg, brilliant diplomat and statesman, led him to
seek an appointment at the court of the Bishop Elector of Mainz, John Philip of
Sch6nborn, and academic robes were laid aside permanently for the more modish
raiment of the courtier. Except for 4 years in Paris from 1672 to 1676, the rest of his
life was spent in residence at courts - at Mainz until 1672 and at Hanover, with
frequent and long absences at Berlin and Vienna, in Italy, and elsewhere, from 1676
until his death in 1716.
It is with this decision that the motives of Leibniz's activities and thought merge
with the needs of European order. It may be said that his life was henceforth impelled
in two opposite directions; the man of action and the scholar found it hard to achieve
their aims within a single lifetime.
On the one hand, there was the diplomat, counselor, unofficial historian, and tutor
of princes and princesses; the adviser of statesmen, kings, and emperors. The rapidly
changing map of Europe, which resulted from nine great wars and as many peace
settlements in his lifetime, made it inevitable that much of his official activity should be
devoted to the transient play of power politics - to restricting the power of France and
maintaining that of the crumbling empire, to advancing the influence of the smaller
states, particularly of Hanover, whose house he helped elevate to an imperial electorate
and then to the throne of England. His political realism is well shown in an analysis of
the European situation written in 1670, in which he described the causes of political
tension and proposed a plan for federation and collective military security to maintain
peace. 7 The elaborate proposal which he and Boineburg drew up the next year for a
French crusade against Egypt, and which he carried to Paris in 1672, failed to divert
Louis XIV's military ambitions from Europe, for the Sun King had already laid his
plans for the invasion of the Low Countries. But the plan reveals an early under-
standing of the geographic, economic, and cultural factors in political strategy which
later years sharpened, so that Leibniz's services as counselor were sought after by
Prussia, Austria, Russia, and even the Vatican; with Peter the Great he had three con-
ferences and an extended correspondence looking toward the modernization of Russia.

Yet his hopes for Europe rested upon deeper and more enduring plans, and it is
with the promotion of these more permanent cultural goals that his long-term intel-
lectual efforts were concerned. Four lifelong projects, anyone of which might have
absorbed the full energies of a man without success - and in none of which, it may be
added, Leibniz himself succeeded - occupied the leisure he was able to find for them.
(1) Of these plans, the first in time concerned legal reform. His academic studies of
doubtful cases in the law had convinced him of the need of a stricter and more universal
method in legal rules and decisions. John Althus' suggestion that the confused state
of European law could be simplified by finding more logical classifications than those
of the Roman Corpus Juris had early impressed him 8, and the small work which helped
him to secure his first appointment, the New Method/or Learning and Teaching Juris-
prudence (No.2; cf. No. 4), proposed a psychological and a logical basis for simplifying
law, together with a philosophical grounding of the law of nature. At Mainz, where
he assisted Herman Lasser in a project of recodification, he undertook to prepare the
general parts of a work on Rational Jurisprudence, only incomplete studies for which
were ever written (No.6). Leibniz expected great values to develop from his work;
in a letter to John Philip on March 27, 1669, he claimed to have
prepared, among other things, a table, comparable in size to a map, which uses a unique arrange-
ment and method to present the entire common private law of the Empire today, with all of
its fundamental rules and propositions, and reduces them to first principles so that anyone
who understands this table, or has it lying before him, can decide any fact or case of private
law, and at once put his finger on the basis for the decision in the table itself [Guh. L., J,
Anhang, 9-10).
The work of Hugo Grotius had fastened in his mind the need of European peace as the
practical goal of legal reform 9; his own logical and philosophical interests made him
seek the principles of logic and ethics upon which a normative system of law and jus-
tice must rest. 10 His efforts to reduce the law to its primitive notions were therefore
but one application of the universal method of analysis and synthesis, or of judgment
and invention, which was one of the poles of his philosophical work. This jn turn
required a new science, the universal characteristic and logical calculus, for its per-
fection. The metaphysical foundations of the law, on the other hand, he found in a
Platonic theory of ideas, which was in turn supported by his mathematical, logical, and
theological studies and became one of the permanent components of his system
(Nos. 5, 6, and 9). With this foundation he was able to find a common theoretical bond
between theology and law, which his more empirical investigations in physics and
psychology were intended to support.
(2) More persistent, however, than his efforts to establish a basis for European
order through legal reform were his projects in religious unification. Leibniz was well
aware that the religious controversies of the century were often cloaks for more
earthly designs: in 1683, for instance, he wrote a skilful satire, the Mars Christianissimus,
attacking the pious pretensions of Louis XIV. Recognizing that the divisions of reli-
gion, closely related to those of political power into states, intensified religious con-
flict, he made vigorous efforts to bring first Roman Catholics and Protestants, and
later the Lutheran and Reformed wings of Protestantism, into agreement on church
polity and doctrine - efforts which involved much theological writing and hundreds of
letters to such leaders as Bossuet, Arnauld, PelIisson, and the Abbess of Maubisson
and her secretary, Mme de Brignon. In this enterprise Leibniz was not moved merely
by political motives, as some interpreters have held, but by religious conviction and
an interest in the validity as well as the social effectiveness of the Christian faith (Nos. 5,
23, 28, and 40). Indeed, his interest in religion, like his historical and political interests,
extended beyond Europe; the American Indians, about whom he had direct informa-
tion from the Baron de la Hontan and others, impressed him with a natural Adamic
piety and morality, while the morality of China, on whose language and culture the
Jesuit missionaries kept him informed, contrasted so favorably with Europe's that he
suggested that "considering the rapidly growing decline of manners in Europe it is
almost necessary for the Chinese to send missionaries to teach us the purpose and
practice of natural theology, as we send missionaries to instruct them in revealed
theology" [Dut., IV, 280].
For Leibniz and his contemporaries, ecclesiastical unity meant theological unity and
was therefore to be attained through Christian apologetics and an authoritative agree-
ment on church polity. Early in his career (1669) Leibniz outlined a work entitled
Catholic Demonstrations, an apologetic study which was to be based on philosophical
principles and to be absolutely conclusive - a sound basis for European unity and the
immediate evangelization of the world (No.5). Many studies were prepared, but the
work was left incomplete. Soon after he came to Hanover he revived the project with
the hope of getting the Catholic Duke John Frederick to support it (No. 28); after the
death of that patron in 1679, he interested Count Ernest of Hesse-Rheinfels in his plan.
Here, as in his other grandiose schemes, he became absorbed in the parts and never
completed the whole. But the "little discourse in metaphysics" which provided the
basis for his long philosophical correspondence with Arnauld (Nos. 35, 36, and 38)
may well have been written as a part of the philosophical introduction for the Catholic
Demonstrations; in any case, it is significant that not only Leibniz's metaphysics but
his logic and physics were developed as a foundation for his theology (Nos. 5, 8, and
10). Though the extensive writings on dynamics in the 1690's (No. 46) arose as an
independent interest, he always insisted upon their theological bearing (No. 50).
It has often been pointed out that Leibniz philosophized best in controversy with
others and also that his spirit in such controversy was irenic and conciliatory. It has
not been sufficiently emphasized, in reply to those who find two thinkers in Leibniz - a
good logician and a bad theologian - that his philosophical controversies, whether with
the Jansenist Arnauld or the skeptic Bayle, with the Cartesian De Voider or the Jesuit
Des Bosses, are irenic because they are always concerned with theological issues as
well. The most important problem was logical, metaphysical, and theological all
together; it was the problem of the relation of individual to universal, of concrete
subject to its predicates, of man to nature, of human freedom to divine grace. His
criticism of men like Spinoza, Sturm, and even Malebranche was that they denied
power, and therefore existence, to individuals; on the other hand, Hobbes, Bayle, and
Newton (as interpreted by Clarke) encouraged naturalism and the complete indepen-
dence of the individual - in short, Iibertinism.
(3) If religion and law were to provide the pattern and motive of European harmony,
the advancement of science and technology was to supply the tools. It was high time,
Leibniz felt, for Bacon's vision of the advancement of learning to bear fruit in a pro-
gram of organized research, Pan-European in scope and universal in content. His
letters reveal the ardor with which he drove forward his own investigations and chal-

lenged the co-operation of others. When he went to Paris in 1672, he was ignorant
of mathematics beyond Euclid and some ideas of Cavalieri; he had discovered the es-
sential processes of the calculus before he left 4 years later. 11 The notion of mathema-
tical function and the symbolic and operational tools which he built upon it for the
physical sciences were for him an outstanding instance of his more general science of
symbols and a clue to the philosophic interpretation of individuality and process. The
mathematical principles of continuity and equivalence he used as effective tools in
physical analysis, and he showed the necessity of the notion of vis viva and its conser-
vation in closed systems. Not all his inventions and discoveries were capable of
arousing the interest of his contemporaries, as did his calculating machine and the
new mechanical devices which it embodied; his proposal for a geometry of situation
(No. 27) failed to interest even his friend and mentor Huygens, and his logical stud-
ies were so far beyond his contemporaries in sharpness if not in conception (for related
projects had been made public by LuIIus, Wilkins, Kircher, and others) that publica-
tion was out of the question. 12
Leibniz's letters and papers are a rich mine of information about the arts and
crafts of the century. No new mechanical principle or natural discovery was too trivial
for his attention, and few of the achievements of the day can be named in which he did
not have a hand: the discovery of phosphorus and its manufacture as a weapon of war
(No. 27, I) (here, again, it remained for the 20th century to execute his purpose); the
discovery of European porcelain; the use of microscopes in research; Papin's steam
engine, for which he proposed a self-regulating mechanism and the re-use of the expen-
ded steam; the principle of the aneroid barometer (No. 49); machinery for the uniform
distribution of power in pumps, which he himself devised in his unsuccessful efforts
to rid the silver mines of the Harz of superfluous water; and proposals for improving
clocks, navigation, and coinage and the economic theory on which it rested.
He was an innovator and discoverer in the field of the social sciences as well. The
significance of his historical methods and results has been exaggerated 13, but his
collection of political documents from the Middle Ages, published in 1693 and 1700
(No. 44, I and II), is one of the beginnings of the modern collection of sources; and his
history of the House of Brunswick, which turned into an exhaustive study of the
Middle Ages and was later used by Gibbon, emphasized the creative and enlightened
character of the 11 th and 12th centuries in contrast to the darkness which preceded and
followed them. Meanwhile he prefaced his history with the Protogaea, an account of
the development of the earth and life upon it, for he believed that we must first under-
stand the earth if we are to understand the people who inhabit it. 14 The science of
linguistics began in his efforts to prepare a comprehensive comparative dictionary of
the common terms of all known languages, a project preliminary to the more general
one of developing a universal language; this in turn was an aspect of his universal char-
acteristic or science of symbols. He succeeded to a degree in tracing the great mi-
grations from the local names they deposited throughout Europe and discovered some
of the rules for the evolution of language. His interest in education is shown in many
letters and papers (N o. 2).
But though himself a genius, Leibniz considered scientific advance as the work not
of individual geniuses but of scholarly co-operation. Hence he commonly used his
own studies to build and strengthen co-operative work in science. A member of the
British Royal Society and the French Academy, he himself planned the organization
of the Prussian Academy on broader intellectual bases and drew up plans for similar
academies in Mainz, Hanover, Vienna, Dresden, and St. Petersburg, though the conti-
nuation of political conflicts kept these from being founded. The church, too, was
to support research; monasteries were to be reorganized into institutions for scientific
and technological advance, and he suggested an Order of God-lovers (Ordo Theophi-
forum) or an Ordo Carita tis Pacidianorum 15, whose members were to prepare a universal
language and encyclopedia and then serve as missionaries to use this newly organized
knowledge in the improvement of the well-being of all peoples.
It is in his proposals for a unified method and apparatus for this uncovering of the
foundations of the sciences and ordering their results that Leibniz's scientific interests,
in their turn, pass over into philosophy. The general tool for investigation was to in-
clude a universal language for spoken and written communication, another language of
symbols for scientific analysis and synthesis (the universal characteristic), a calculus
for using them in discovery and analysis, and a universal encyclopedia based on this
characteristic and logic. To the several parts of this project he returned at regular inter-
vals in his life, particularly at the periods centering in 1670, 1679, and 1690, and he
never abandoned it (see Nos. 1, 10, 13, 19,24,25,26, and 41).
(4) In these efforts at scientific, religious, and legal reform, Leibniz never lost sight,
however, of the basic motive, which was the well-being of man and his happiness. In
his humanitarian hopes he was a true individualist and internationalist; at the same
time that he urged a sound patriotic interest in the German language and culture upon
his countrymen he was planning similar developments in Russia. To Count Golofkin
he wrote:
In this I make no distinction of nation or party, and I should prefer to see the sciences made
flourishing in Russia rather than given only mediocre cultivation in Germany. The country
which does this best will be the country dearest to me, since the Whole human race will always
profit from it [1712; Foucher de Careil, Oeuvres de Leibniz, VII, 503].
And to Des Billettes he said, in dicussing the restoration of the French Academy's
work after the Peace of Ryswick:
Provided that something of consequence is achieved, I am indifferent whether it is done in
Germany or in France, for I seek the good of mankind. I am neither a phil-Hellene nor a
philo-Roman, but a phil-anthropos [1697; G., VII, 456].
All Leibniz's projects meet, therefore, in the need for a philosophy and, specifically, an
ethics for the man of honor. True piety is to be identified with charity. The basic need
of the century is the commitment of honorable men to the universal rather than to the
relative and particular. Leibniz was no democrat l6 , though he was within limits a
hedonist, a liberal, and an individualist. He was a friend of princes and looked for
leadership in advancing man's well-being to "those great men in whom alone there is
hope of improvement in this greatest of centuries". Such men must be brought to a
philosophia perennis, the synthesis of what is good in all systems. They must be brought
to understand what is truly universal and how moral individuality is related to it.
Clearness and distinctness of ideas are the first requisites of true honor, for it is only
reason, and the creative will based on it, that man and the supreme monarch have in
common. The honorable man must live on the highest level of the law, above strict faw
and equity (Nos. 6, 44, and 59), and therefore above merely positive law. His great

principle is that "of justice and true piety as well, for to contribute to the public good
and to the glory of God is the same thing" (G., III, 261). He must be a member of the
realm of grace; and the relation of this realm to the individual and to the realm of
nature, it is the purpose of Leibniz's philosophy to make clear.
Of course he failed. Part of his failure was the result of his own many-sidedness; he
either did not see or was not free to apply Goethe's later wisdom: "In der Beschdin-
kung zeigt sich erst der Meister."17 Part of it lay in the inherent difficulties, not to
mention impossibilities, in his plans. But some of the failure was not his but his
century's, for it followed other guides and made other choices; going further and
further along the way of pluralism and individualism, it retained his faith in science
and technology but rejected his quest for moral, religious, and legal unity. The sud-
denness of the change and the quickness with which the molds of modern Europe were
set are still strange to contemplate: as Hazard points out, the French people, who were
still thinking like Bossuet at the end of the century, were by 1750 thinking like Voltaire.
And the problems which arose in Leibniz's own age have become inescapable in ours.
In his old age, ordered by George Louis to persist in the task of completing his
history of the House of Hanover while the court was settling in London, goading
himself to his burden through various counterirritants to the gout, Leibniz predicted
the early revolution, yet still sought and encouraged the "great prince" and the man of
honor. As vigorous as ever in controversy (No. 71), as friendly and painstaking as ever
with correspondents, he died neglected by his master, with his profoundest thoughts
unpublished and his many creative dreams buried in a mass of manuscript.
Some of the virtues and faults distinctive of Leibniz's philosophy arise from certain
peculiarities in his mode of work, which it will be useful to remember in reading him.
Fontenelle said that Leibniz bestowed the honor of reading them upon a mass of bad
books. His inclination was to read everything, to read it rapidly, and to understand it
in relation to the perennial philosophy which he proposed to found. His own insights
came most readily in reaction to the view of someone else whom he read or with whom
he corresponded or conversed 18; the independent exposition of his own opinions
seems to have come hard to him. His own education, except in mathematics" was one
by books rather than inspiring teachers - and these books were chiefly texts in the
Scholastic manner. Suarez's Disputationes metaphysicae had become the academic
standard of doctrine for Protestant and Catholic Europe alike, and a host of smaller
works were written further diluting, supplementing, altering, or rejecting his already
modified Aristotelianism in favor of Platonism, Ramism, PhiIIipo-Ramism, the
modern corpuscular theory, or Cartesianism. To his textbooks Leibniz's reaction was
always independent, yet their immediate effect, like that of most texts, was a rapidly
acquired show of erudition, sometimes without exact knowledge (see especially No.3),
a glib use of terms without, always, a firm grasp of the restrictions imposed by their
history, and a body of ready-made opinions without the time to penetrate their impli-
cations.
Leibniz's active philosophical career thus begins with his general convictions al-
ready accumulated (though not yet formed); like the texts he used, he was an eclectic.
He was always at home with Scholastic terms, concepts, and problems; the old bottles
into which he tried to pour the wine of his new notions of individuality, force, and
mathematical function are the medieval categories of substantial form, causality,
active and passive intellect, primary and secondary matter, primary and secondary
power. In spite of inherent difficulties, Leibniz boldly imposed Aristotle's predicables

upon his dynamic monadism. Since Scholastic terms, however confused, stilI provided
the most general medium of learned discourse, this was not entirely a misfortune. Yet
it had the consequence of introducing many misunderstandings of his meaning, both
among his contemporaries and later.
Some of Leibniz's difficulty is therefore terminological. The 17th century was fixing
the language of modern science, and Scholastic terms were proving inadequate for the
new discoveries. Leibniz was aware of the importance of fruitful symbols for the
pursuit of truth and showed himself a great inventor of such symbols - for example,
in the calculus, in logic, and in geometry. He was a connoisseur ofthe apt phrase as well,
and the place of analogy in his method made the substitution of the figure for the
principle a constant temptation, though his effective popularizations can usually be
translated into the more rigorous logical terminology of his critical writings. His
several sets of terms - the Scholastic, the mathematico-logjcal, and the popular - may
well confuse the interpreter who has failed to establish equivalences among them.
This complexity must in turn be accounted for by the universality of the task which
Leibniz set for himself. A perennial philosophy requires social co-operation, the
criticism of all existing systems, and the inclusion of all the fields of human knowledge
and endeavor. Leibniz's main concern was to avoid sectarianism but to invite helpful
criticism, and the effort to be all things to all men in order to stimulate their own labors
has left its unmistakable mark upon his works. In terms of a distinction which he
himself made in the introduction to Nizolius, these include acroamatic and exoteric
writings.
In the acroamatic everything is demonstrated, in the exoteric some things are said without
demonstration, but confirmed by certain fitting and logical quotations, or even demonstrated,
though developed only topically and illustrated by examples and analogies. '" In the exoteric
portion one is permitted to luxuriate a little, so that even if some certitude is lost, there is lost
no clarity - or atleast very little [G., IV, 1461.
Among his own papers there are those developed in logical rigor, those in the courtly
style with which he sought to interest princes, princesses, and nobles, and those in the
personal style of letters to friends. This sense of the diversity of readers also led him to
publish his conclusions in different languages and in different journals: Latin in the
Acta eruditorum for scholars and Scholastics, French in the Paris Journal des savants
for the intellectuals at the courts, as well as in the emigre journals of the Low Countries
- Bayle's Nouvelles de la republique des lettres, Basnage's Histoire des ouvrages des
savants, Le Clerc's Bibliotheque universelle - for Cartesians and other moderns.19
For a universal philosophy needed to bring into agreement ancients and moderns,
Cartesians and Scholastics, mechanists and teleologists, atomists and subjectivists like
Foucher. An adequate faith to serve as the basis of confident action demanded the
concord of minds, a goal which challenged Leibniz's diplomatic finesse and in the
attainment of which he did not always avoid the skilful exploitation of an ambiguity
or of the emotional impact of terms. "I hope", he wrote to Clarke late in his life,
"that my demonstrations will change the face of philosophy." Though he refused to
compromise irresolvable issues, most of his philosophizing was in a conciliatory spirit;
he was usually more aware of the similarities which bound his thought to that of
others than of the differences. Among his papers, the basic stratum of reading notes,

paraphrases, and preliminary sketches contains studies of Plato, Aristotle, Augustine,

the Scholastics, Descartes, Hobbes, Grotius, Spinoza, Cudworth, Boyle, Malebranche,
Bayle, Locke, Toland, and Shaftesbury, to mention only those of prominent and en-
during place in the tradition. Indeed, his two extended philosophical writings are
critical comments on the works of others: the Theodicy on Bayle and the New Essays
on Locke. 20
A perennial philosophy, however, must involve a synthesis not merely of the truth
found in other philosophers but also of all fields of human investigation and activity.
This Leibniz sought to achieve through philosophic construction beginning at two
poles, that of method and that of metaphysics - a construction in which unity is
achieved through the discovery of general principles with specialized applications to
the various fields and the granting of metaphysical status to these principles. The long
dispute about Leibniz's starting-point is therefore largely futile; his metaphysics is
based no more on jurisprudence than on physics, for the same lawgiver is involved in
both - and in ethics and theology, in psychology and mathematics, as well. His philo-
sophy seeks the most general principles common to law, theology, and science;
whether in logic, psychology, or physics, it seeks the same truths, though under the
restrictions of a different set of definitions and symbols, and therefore with more con-
crete but limited meaning. No other modern thinker has attempted to bring so great a
range of subject matter under the rule of so few general principles.
The breadth of Leibniz's cultural goals, of which his methodological and meta-
physical studies were but instruments, thus helps to explain the fragmentary and
incomplete nature of his work, his extreme caution in considering anything ready for
publication, and the general pattern in which his efforts advance from grandiose but
purely formal plans to the special investigation of particular problems, particularly
after 1690. The universal encyclopedia ended in a series of studies for the logical
calculus and the general science; the Catholic Demonstrations, in the various meta-
physical discourses of the last 3 decades of his life. It is characteristic of Leibniz that
until the age of about 45 he worked as much as possible on the parts of his great in-
tellectual projects and that he then found what energies he could save from other
duties completely absorbed by his answers to new intellectual challenges, such as the
appearance of Locke's Essay, Newton's Principia, and Bayle's Dictionary, the three
giants of the approaching revolution. Yet whatever may be said of this distraction of
effort, it must be admitted that Leibniz never lost sight of the general issues involved in
his detailed philosophical analyses and that his discernment between the important
and the trivial was usually accurate.
For it was the lack of time, as well as his own inclinations, that kept his philosophy
incomplete. His letters reveal how he devoted to philosophical labors time spent on
journeys and periods of illness or occasionally of rest. Nothing seemed ready; to
Placcius he wrote in 1696, "He who knows only what I have published does not know
me" (Dut., VI, 65). Two revisions of the long New Essays exist among his manuscripts,
along with criticisms by a number of French correspondents to whom it was submitted,
yet Leibniz did not publish it (Bod. LH., pp. 79, 84). He himself described his confusion
in many letters.
How extremely distracted I am cannot be described. I dig up various things from the archives,
examine ancient documents, conquer unpublished manuscripts. From these I strive to throw
light on the history of Brunswick. I receive and send letters in great number. 21 I have, indeed,
so many things in mathematics, so many thoughts in philosophy, so many other literary
observations which I do not wish to have perish, that I am often bewildered as to where to
begin [to Placcius, 1695; G., IV, 413 n.).
It follows that, although many of Leibniz's interpreters have quarreled about the
systematic unity of his thought, he himself abandoned such claims. In 1696 he wrote
to Des Billettes :
My system, about which you express curiosity for some news, is not a complete body of philos-
ophy, and I make no claim to give a reason for everything which others have sought to
explain. We must proceed by stages to proceed with firm steps. I begin with principles, and I
hope to be able to satisfy most of the doubts like those which have troubled Mr. Bernier
[G., VII, 451).
In the first decade of the new century, Leibniz's insistence on the incompleteness of his
thought increases; to De VoIder, to Locke's patroness Lady Masham, and to others he
writes that his philosophy is still merely a hypothesis, though he holds it to be the most
intelligible one so far advanced and therefore presumptively true. Completeness and
unity are sacrificed to the task of inciting others to share in the common aim. After
careful and repeated revision, Leibniz's papers were circulated among his acquain-
tances for criticism or, in some cases, submitted for publication. The 'Discourse on
Metaphysics', for example (No. 35), was intended not for publication but for the
criticism of Arnauld and perhaps of others. This was true too of the Critical Thoughts
on the General Part of the Principles of Descartes, the Principles of Nature and of Grace,
the Monadology (Nos. 42, 66, and 67), and many others.
As a final factor, Leibniz's philosophy is affected at different periods by the particu-
lar special studies in which he is engaged. Of this, the outstanding example is the
fading of the logical interest from first place in his thoughts, after the publication of
Newton's Principia and Locke's Essay, and its replacement by the physical studies of
the 1690's, his abandonment of the theological projects for church union, and his
growing interest in English politics, thought, and culture. Beginning with the Specimen
dynamicum (No. 46), the universal harmony is pushed into the background and force
to the center, the law of individuality becomes abstract and 'formal', and the actual
dynamic process the concrete and real. The claims of demonstration are weakened
and the hypothetical nature of his philosophy emphasized. The eternal chain of being
gives way, in emphasis, to the temporal order of progress, so that in his last philoso-
phical statements (Nos. 66 and 67) the Platonic doctrine of ideas on which his thought is
always based is not explicit, logic is subordinated to epistemology, while psychology,
biology, and history are in the foreground.
III. THE METAPHYSICAL PATTERN
The intellectual strivings of the 17th century find visible reflection in its architectural
forms. The great garden at the summer palace of Herrenhausen, north of Hanover,
was replanned and extended in 1696 by the Electress Sophia and her garden architect
Charbonnier; Leibniz himself served as consultant on the fountains and perhaps on
other matters of technology and design. It may have been in its garden theater that the
noble actors performed his masque Trimarcion, to the professed scandal of the more

ponderously austere court of Berlin. Certainly it was there that he walked with his
patroness Sophia and her daughter, Sophie Charlotte, the first queen of Prussia, and
discussed the problem of God's plan and man's place in it. It was there that he chal-
lenged Herr von Alversleben to find two leaves that were identical in form, yet discern-
ible. In it he found, too, the physical symbols of an adequate metaphysics - universal
harmony; individuality without duplication, yet reflecting and re-presenting the order
of the whole; dynamism; and to one side the labyrinth, inviting dalliance but never
complete understanding. 22
The Herrenhaus(m garden was an enormous rectangle, surrounded on three sides by
canals, and carefully subdivided, in strict geometrical fashion, into thirty smaller
squares isolated from each other by walks and thick, carefully shaped hedges. Each
smaller garden was further planned in formal order but with complete variety; no two
gardens were alike, for each had its individual 'principle' and name. Yet so similar was
their basic design that, casually observed, they might easily be confused. Complete
individuality was fused with universal harmony. The carp ponds were themselves
individualized; gazing into them, Leibniz might well imagine "each portion of matter
... conceived as a garden full of plants, and as a pond full of fish. But every branch of
each plant, every member of each animal, and every drop of its liquid parts is itself
likewise a similar garden or pond" - not one of the more fortunate of his figures. At
the intersections of the main boulevards separating the newer gardens were fountains,
among them one of the highest on the Continent.
The moral order of the honorable man, like the garden, demanded individuality and
freedom within the limits of an inviolable order and plan and spontaneity regulated by
the universal harmony. Ability, temperament, and environment vary in each individual,
determining the limitations in the successive experiences and perspectives in each. But
however different, the individual laws of the separate series follow from the universal
harmony which science and the social order seek. It is this universal harmony which
provides not only the basis for the honorable man's capacities and actions but also the
goal of his moral obligations. Both efficient and final causes are imbedded within it.
Three conceptions, therefore, and their mutual relations, determine the pattern and
the problems of Leibniz's philosophy - universal harmony, individuality, and force -
and the notions in terms of which he seeks to relate them are mathematical function,
representation, and conatus or striving. Universal harmony he derived from the
Platonic tradition; individuality from Aristotle and the moderns, but with an idealistic
principle of individuation 23; while that of dynamic change is his own, though stimula-
ted by both Aristotle and Hobbes. Thus his success in reconciling the ancients and
moderns is bound up in his success in relating these three determining principles.
(1) Leibniz first attempts to interpret individuality and process in terms of the univer-
sal harmony. The a priori starting-point for his thought is the perfections of God, the
universal calculator from whose contemplation and choice of possibilities the world is
born. 24 Not the God of Descartes, a Machiavellian prince on cosmic scale, upon
whose will the order of logic and of nature depends, but the "region of ideas", the
inner necessity of whose perfection requires it to bring the best of all possibilities into
existence - this is Leibniz's God and the foundation of his system. God is perfect
intellect, and his will is merely "a certain consequence of his intellect" (G., J, 257,
No. 16; cf. PA., VI, i, 45). The reality of a harmonious perfection is the first presuppo-
sition of Leibniz's philosophy.
The full meaning of this region of possibilities becomes more apparent only when
the nature of an idea is understood. An idea is a structure of meaning, a real definition,
based on the law of identity and contradiction, and in close logical dependence upon
the other ideas constituting God's mind. As such it is the possibility of existence, and
not merely, as Cassirer's Neo-Kantianism leads him often to imply, of experience
alone. Every simple idea is a mode of God's perfection and therefore harmonizes with
all other such units in the divine intellect. In terms of the mathematical analogy in
Leibniz's system, every idea is a particular solution, in terms of one variable, of a
complex functional relationship between the infinity of variables which comprises
God's understanding. Before Paris, he thinks of number as that category which reveals
this harmony; after Paris, he sees the need of an extension of mathematics beyond
number or quantity and a universal logic of relations.
Beyond such mathematical analogy, this harmony of ideas cannot be described, for
human knowledge is merely discursive and in symbols, and all description is therefore
already involved in a dualism or polarity which the ideas themselves make possible but
which they also escape - the dualism of passive content or symbol and symbolic act
or active representation. Yet the structure of this realm of possibility can be represent-
ed in symbols, and it is this description which provides the foundation for Leibniz's
logic, mathematics, metaphysics, and practical philosophy.
The universal harmony and perfection of meaning cannot be proved without a
vicious circle, for the principles upon which proof rests are derived from it. But unless
it exists, there is no principle of knowledge, no explanation for anything being as it is.
Descartes is therefore right in his use of the ontological argument - though his argu-
ment collapses with his failure to prove the possibility of such perfection of meaning.
This possibility Leibniz, too, never succeeds in establishing, though he makes great
efforts, and for a time professes to have done so, before he drops the argument and
returns to the cosmological (Nos. 14 and 16). But given the existing series of events,
there must be some reason for such a series existing and being as it is rather than other-
wise, and the quest for such a reason leads to a realm of possibility whose perfection
involves all of creation (No. 51).
Three properties of the ideas, which arise from their perfection and plenitude, help
Leibniz on with his thinking; he finds in them the basis for logical relations, for process,
and for metaphysical individuality.
(A) Every true proposition or every relationship, whether existent or merely possible
(Leibniz tends to disregard negative propositions, since he considers them as mere
denials of the truth of positive propositions), must conform to the law of possibility or
of identity and contradiction. If it does not, it is mere words unsupported by any
idea. At once, however, two issues arise in the interpretation of propositions: (i) they
may be understood to signify either the extension of individual instances or the inten-
sion or essential meaning, and (ii) they may be given a relational or a more specific
predicative interpretation. Leibniz recognized these alternative possibilities, but his
effort to construct a metaphysics of individuality on the Aristotelian-Scholastic pattern
made it difficult for him to adopt either a relational or an extensional interpretation.
Denotation, being possible only in existence, is therefore logically derivative from the
a priori realm of essence and hence also merely the empirical preliminary to the true
scientific analysis.
Furthermore, the conception that all being derives from the intellect of God provides

metaphysical warrant for the Aristotelian principle that "in every true affirmative
proposition, the predicate is included in the subject" (predicatum subjecto inest)2S, a
principle to which Leibniz looks for support of his conception of individual
substance.
The reconciliation of this logical and metaphysical point of view is the first difficulty
in Leibniz's system. The harmony of ideas is one of systematic interdependence, not of
the subordination of predicates to subjects or to the substances which they qualify -
for Leibniz regards substances as completely analyzable analytic propositions. His
logic thus applies the Aristotelian-Stoic categories of substance and property to a
field of logical meanings which rather demands the Platonic, mathematical logic of
relations. Thus he never clearly relates or sharply distinguishes between forms as
attributes of substance and forms as 'formulas' or models, as these are developed in
his symbolic calculus. The predicative logic should have been considered as a special
case of the more general relational analysis, but Leibniz's concern with traditional
conceptions of substance kept him from freeing himself from the Aristotelian
position.
(B) In the second place, ideas are not merely the basis of logic and its laws; they
also have a dynamic quality. "In all essence there is a striving for existence." In the
ambiguities of the verbs exigo and conor there lies concealed the secret of the relation
of process to structure, power to plan, and will to intellect. It is the fulness and perfect-
ion of the ideas which make creative activity necessary; if nothing existed, possibility
would not be complete or perfect. Therefore ideas must be powers. And man's internal
sense reveals that ideas do in fact have this dynamic quality; human ideas are never
separate from the drive to action and perfection. Thus, by analogy, every divine
idea tends or strives to exist, except insofar as it is prevented by the striving of other
ideas.
How the harmonious possible ideas can interfere with each other in their striving
toward existence is the second great unanswered problem of Leibniz's thought. He
points to the fact of interference and conflict, of evil and the demand for compensation,
in the created world; he acknowledges the sources of his conception in older doctrines;
but the reason for it, he admits, is unknown to us (G., VII, 195). If man knew this, he
would not be bound to truths of fact or contingent judgments but would know as
God knows. In its logical and absolute sense, the law of sufficient reason fails man at
this point, and the infinite breach appears between truths of fact and of reason.
Yet Leibniz's effort to reduce the problem to human ignorance is not completely
successful, for the paradox is clear for all to see. A realm of harmonious possibilities,
comprising the perfections of God, is nonetheless incapable of being rendered existent
because of internal inconsistencies. But, when the best of all possible combinations is
chosen, the result is an existing order of compossible events in which complete harmony
is again the law of the relationships between monads. In terms of possibilities, existence
must be relatively disharmonious; yet in terms of the harmonies of existence, the realm
of possibility is itself disharmonious.
A partial answer to the paradox is to be found in the nature of time and space. With
the dynamic quality of ideas, both of these enter as the new dimensions of existent
compossibilities. Here too the mathematical analogy is helpful; a functional law is
actualized in a series of particular values, and this series involves infinite and conti-
nuous succession. So an idea, or the law of an individual, striving to exist under the
dual conditions of its fulness and its limitation, achieves the greatest possible perfection
through a succession of changes or states. Leibniz boldly appropriates the term
'conatus', which Hobbes had used in a physical sense, for the momentary tendency of a
meaning to actualize itself. And actual qualities which, considered as possibilities or
essences, would be inconsistent with each other may become consistent when distin-
guished in space or time. Since space is merely the simultaneity of two or more events,
and time is succession, creation requires both in order to achieve the best, or the maxi-
mum of possible harmony.
(C) Finally, because creation involves plurality and mutual limitation, it involves a
duality of activity and passivity. As every idea strives to 'realize' 26 itself in harmony
with others, it is distinguishable into a polarity of active forces and of passive content
or matter. Within the series of events which result from the ideas as powers, therefore,
each existing event is unique yet a part of many wholes, some of them existent, some
eternal patterns. Its uniqueness consists of activity, however momentary; its depend-
ence consists in passivity, for which Leibniz revives the controversial term materia
prima. In mind this matter is inert content, while the activity is perception, and the
differentiation of this activity in successive stages is appetite (conatus). In physical
processes the matter is inertia, the activity force. Every individual is thus (i) an idea or
law, a part of the divine harmony, (ii) continuously differentiating itself into a series of
events which are interrelated (though not interacting) spatially and temporally, (iii) in
a succession of impulsions or fulgurations, each of which also involves a passive inert
quality reflecting the rest of the world upon which it depends. This passive element
constitutes the limitation of the individual or of its 'point of view'.
Individuals may thus be viewed as differentiated products of the universal harmony
of ideas, and natural and historical change as the creation of an existing order after the
best of possible plans. And the understanding of existence should be derivable, there-
fore, from the eternity of God's perfections. But only God can view the universe
adequately from this purely logical starting-point; for finite beings it is impossible
except in abstract or 'incomplete' terms, since the ideas are perspectiveless, while we
are limited to particular spatial and temporal perspectives.
(2) It is therefore more fruitful to shift the emphasis from logical possibility to
existence and to view the eternal harmony from the viewpoint of the individual. For
both theoretical and practical reasons, it is a primary concern of Leibniz to establish a
genuine individuality. Pluralism is required if analysis is valid, for, where there are
real aggregates or compounds, there must be ultimate and simple minimal realities,
and these cannot be spatial, since spatial analysis is possible beyond any definable
limit. The spatial analogue to an individual is a point, but an individual is a 'meta-
physical' point, one at which something is going on. Here, again, a more convin-
cing argument for the reality of individuals is man's experience of himself as a self-
determining and private entity different from others and causally independent of
them.
Leibniz's emphasis upon individuality and process increases in the later periods of
his thought; though the Discourse of 1686 (No. 35) is the first work to develop his
mature conception of the individual monad, it is still centered upon God and his
providence, while the Principles of Nature and of Grace and the Monadology, both
written in 1714, are built upon the argument for individual substance. His criticism of
other systems is often aimed at their failure to provide a firm basis for individual

existence (Nos. 53 and 58 are examples). Spinoza, of course, fails entirely, since he
recognizes no plurality of active principles in nature and hence no created substances.
But even Malebranche has failed as well, since he shows no real connection between
the active principle in man, which he limits to the will, and the ideas in God.
Every individual is thus an idea or law fulfilling itself in a succession of active-
passive states. Individuality is therefore not determined by matter but rather determines
it; only by basing individuality upon the creative ideas themselves can individual and
universal be related. To shift the emphasis from the eternal to the temporal, as Leib-
niz himself tends at last to do, it is within the nexus of perceptions, modifications, or
events within the individual that empirical evidence is to be found for the law or the
inclusive idea of his individual nature and for the universal harmony which each event
reflects or represents. For every passing state of an individual expresses, represents, or
perceives the universe according to the restricted limits of its nature or law, so that a
complete understanding of anyone involves the whole harmony.
Two important applications of this general principle may be pointed out in passing-
one to the theory of human knowledge and the other to human values. Knowledge is a
special case of the more or less momentary representation of the universe according
to a finite point of view. The human mind - man as a body-soul unity is an individual
only in a secondary sense - is a true metaphysical unity consisting of a succession of
states which fit the harmonious functioning of the many individual unities which com-
prise his body and, through these, the rest of the universe. The body thus determines
the mind's limitations or its finite and imperfect point of view. Any present act of
knowledge is related to the past states of mind through the abiding law of the individual
given imperfectly in memory; it is also related to the future states of the same mind
through purposes determined by the same law. But every present state also consists of
some content - sensory, emotional, and on higher levels of knowledge, symbolic - by
which the mind represents the universal harmony more or less confusedly, indistinctly,
and inadequately. Leibniz holds that in the act of knowing we begin with a double
datum and that we never free ourselves from it - the subjective act and the objective
content of perception. Hence interpretation must always involve the belief in a greater
reality of which I am a part, independent yet inclusive. "Every mind", he says in a
fragment from the Paris period, "is omniscient but confused" (Cout. OF., p. 10).
Knowledge is thus a representative act whose content is symbolic of an external
reality but whose objective truth lies in its structure and rests on the universal harmony
in creation or beyond it in the logical realm of possibility. Truth is verified by the
quality of thinking which the mind does with its symbols.
The case is similar with human values. All human goals are the perception of some
aspect of the universal harmony. It may be unclear and indistinct or reflective and
critical. Pleasure is the subjective matter accompanying the movement of the mind
toward objective harmony; pain, the subjective matter representing disharmony,
whether within the mind, its body, or beyond it. Thus "pleasure is harmony in a
sentient being", "good is contemplation of the ideas", and "the beatific vision .... is the
contemplation of the universal harmony of things, because God or universal mind is
nothing but this harmony of things of the principle of beauty in them" (PA., VI, i,
97-98, 474, 496). Value is thus, on the subjective side, based on pleasure, but, since
feeling is but the primary matter of an active teleological striving which itself expresses
more or less of harmony, value is, on its objective side, a relation to perfection. A
genuine individualism thus involves a unique restriction of, but also a reaction to, a
universal order.
(3) The third general principle which distinguishes Leibniz's metaphysics is the
dynamic. Leibniz's interest in force and action is supported by his theoretical studies in
physics and psychology.27 In contrast to Descartes, he stresses the importance of
formal operations even in mathematics. Matter is not merely extended, as Descartes
held; it involves resistance and therefore action. Mind is not a substance in the sense of
an enduring substratum of modifications; it is a succession of active states conforming
to law. Force, it is true, does not emerge clearly as a metaphysical principle until the
refutation of Descartes's physics around 1686 and the dynamics of the 1690's, at a
time when his social interests are also being deflected from the eternal elements of law
to history and from the perfect ideal to the process of gradual perfection. Creation is
continuous temporal process, and that which distinguishes truths of fact from truths of
reason is the essentially temporal nature of their predicates. Leibniz's dynamism is
modern and his own, making him a fruitful innovator, particularly in physics, psycho-
logy, and the metaphysics of nature; and it is not misleading to find here the point in
which modern thought shifts from a domination by extension to a domination by time.
The relation between these three principles - harmonious order, individual sub-
stance, and dynamic process - presents the most difficult problems for the student of
Leibniz. Interpreters have generally followed their own inclinations in making one or
the other central. He himself never reached permanent clarity about them. Bound to
the end to the eternal 'chain of being', he never succeeded in fully freeing from it the
individual and the changing processes of existence, though his appreciation of them
grew with the years. His own choice of Scholastic terms, the intellectual mood of the
time, and his conviction that experience involves both the changing and the changeless
prevented him from adopting, in the end, either a clear temporalism or eternaIism, a
clear pluralism or monism.
IV. LEIBNIZ's METHOD
Since he thought of philosophy and science as a social enterprise of which his own
efforts were but a part, Leibniz's actual method may well seem at odds with the con-
ception of method which he is generally held to have proposed. He did, of course,
propose one and made efforts to apply it. The Scholastics had failed through poor
concepts, iII defined (Nos. 3 and 6); his own method must include a rigorous test of
real definitions as opposed to merely verbal or nominal ones. Descartes and the follow-
ers who amplified his rules - even the great Arnauld in his Art 0/ Thinking - had
failed to provide criteria for clearness and distinctness; he would derive such criteria
from the laws of logic themselves (Nos. 33 and 39). The empiricists, even Locke, had
failed to distinguish the problem of a valid method from the description of a psycho-
logical process; "the question of the origin of our ideas and principles", he asserted
against Locke, "is not the preliminary one in philosophy, and we must have made
great progress before we can well answer it" (G., Y., 16).
His own method had two phases - the critical analysis of concepts and judgments
into their component parts (a judgment being the process of breaking up or building a
complex concept) and the constructive synthesis of truth which represents or expresses
reality (No. 25). In his Art o/Thinking Arnauld 28 had expounded Descartes's method

of analysis and synthesis on the basis of an unpublished manuscript given him by

Clerselier; Leibniz identified this method with that of judgment and invention proposed
by Ramus. Analysis consists of finding the most simple concepts involved in com-
pound concepts and the most general principles implied in more particular ones; it is
therefore equivalent to an internal induction which proceeds from complex given facts
or relations to the more general and abstract concepts and principles which are
entailed in them. Leibniz generally assumed that the number of primary or most
simple notions, once found, would be relatively small and fixed. Synthesis, on the
other hand, is constructive, building more concrete truth, possible or existent, out of
truths that are simple or accepted as simple. It therefore corresponds in general to
deduction, which Leibniz therefore conceived as a process of accretion through new
definitions. For truths of reason such a method provides certain truth - provided the
principles and notions used are known to be possible, that is, to obey the law of identity
and contradiction. For truths of fact, however, possible combinations must be tested
and verified by experience, since we lack the power to derive them from completely
simple and therefore certain concepts. This is the method of hypothesis. Both analysis
and synthesis are thus essential to all knowledge, whether of possibility or of existence;
both must begin with facts and principles as well and would ultimately include all
facts; both must be in terms of the most fitting symbols available; and both rest upon
the same ultimate rational principles; identity, contradiction, and sufficient reason
(No. 24, II).29 For man intuitive knowledge is possible only of the most abstract prin-
ciples of reason and of such self-evident notions as being, of abstract logical systems,
and in the realm of existence, of himself as the subject of particular experiences; all
other knowledge depends on the discursive methods of reasoning.
It has been held by penetrating Leibniz interpreters, notably Couturat and Russell,
that Leibniz attempted to found his thought by deduction alone. The view has much
to justify it. Couturat found very important, in this connection, the 'First Truths', a
study from the years between 1679 and 1684 (No. 30) in which Leibniz professes to
deduce most of his basic principles - sufficient reason, the identity of indiscernibles,
the internality of denominations, continuity, the analytic nature of propositions, and
his concept of individuality in general- from the law of identity. Leibniz held, through-
out his career, that all propositions are analytic or that in every true affirmative pro-
position the predicate is included (intensionally or connotatively) in the subject. 30
Therefore, if the elements of all subjects were given clearly enough, deduction would
suffice for philosophic knowledge.
Such deduction, however, would itself combine analysis and synthesis, if it were
possible for man to carry it out. For it would have to begin with a complete definition
of God, which would contain all the simple concepts which are his properties or per-
fections (G., IV, 425), as well as with the most general principles of thought.
Deduction proceeds from identities and definitions, but with the exception of the
definition of God as the most perfect being all definition involves analysis and syn-
thesis as well. In short, Leibniz held that for God all knowledge would be deductive,
and his judgments completely analytic, since his knowledge always rests on adequate
and complete intuition, but that for man such knowledge is limited to those abstract
fields of possibility, like mathematics, formal logic, and abstract ontology, which
involve no time and contingency. Most human knowledge concerns the temporal and
conditional where analysis and synthesis must support each other, whether we proceed
deductively from established truth or from mere hypotheses. Here analysis is still the
essential basis of synthesis, whether the concepts to be analyzed are known and the
compatibility of their component concepts is to be shown or whether the notions
themselves are unverified and the formal analysis of their definitions leads to verifiable
abstract parts, thus verifying the concepts themselves. The unknowns of algebra
furnish the outstanding example of such 'dumb reckoning', as Leibniz sometimes
calls it; the verification of a scientific hypothesis is an important application. A concept
is necessary if it is implied in the analysis of a known truth. If this necessary implication
involves causal inference (from effect to cause), it is contingent or physical necessity;
if it involves only the laws of logic, it is metaphysical or logical necessity.
It is synthesis, however, which is the source of new knowledge on the part of man.
Every human judgment - we may now restrict ourselves to judgments of fact - involves
two mental functions: representation and reasoning. Representation is the function of
symbols or characters in knowledge; it is the relation of expressing or standing for an
objective state of things. Reasoning (ratiocinari) consists of the analytic-synthetic
defining or 'formulating' of a structure of symbols in such a way that it can be verified
as representing the structure of reality. Successful synthesis involves the choice of
'real' characters, symbols qualified by their very structure to reveal the organization of
the world in their formulas. Leibniz was aware of the fact that common language
contains this 'real' element and was concerned to improve it. But science and techno-
logy are in a position to develop their own efficient symbols and operations - the deci-
mal system, the symbols of the calculus, or more recently, the benzene ring are exam-
ples of such real characters. It was to develop and to unify these that Leibniz proposed
a universal characteristic or science of symbols, toward which the operational symbols
he himself developed in logic, geometry, the calculus, and mechanics were but a be-
ginning. Reasoning thus consists in the construction and application to experience
of symbols according to an established set of axioms and accepted rules of operation or
transformation.
Thus the ideal of a general characteristic becomes a general science in which the
principles and methods of all the sciences are generalized. The conception of such a
science is one of Leibniz's greatest visions. In addition to the characteristic, this
would contain the sets of axioms applicable for any particular science and, derived
from them and from the definitions of the symbols, the appropriate rules for trans-
forming the symbolic formulas which constitute the methodology of the science.
Every science is thus thought of as capable of mathematical organization through a
general theory represented in a language by means of an appropriate set of symbols
and developed by fitting operations. But the axioms themselves are all special instances
of the most general metaphysical principles; for example, geometric similarity and
congruence are derivatives, on two distinct levels of completeness, of the law of identity,
as are algebraic equations and the principle of the equipollence of cause and effect
or the principle of conservation in dynamics.31
Thus the ideal of a general science implies in its turn the ordering of the sciences into
a hierarchy in which all are related analogically because all involve the same ultimate
principles and rest upon the same harmony. Reality as we know it consists of 'well-
founded' systems of phenomena, each of which is a particular translation of the same
unified and ultimate pattern of being. The result is a pattern of analogies, so that
physics becomes a phenomenal commentary on metaphysics, the nature of the monad

being reflected in the mass and energy of composite bodies. Similarly, physics reflects
the same ultimate principles, differently synthesized, as psychology, biology, ethics,
and law, all of them (and we should add, though Leibniz did not, theology as well)
being partial symbolic representations of the ultimate harmony of being which man
can know only abstractly in logic, mathematics, and metaphysics.
Philosophy therefore becomes the most general and universal science, seeking the
common principles and common structure of being which all other fields represent
from a limited point of view. And its problems center in two foci, that of metaphysics
and that of the methodology of knowledge.
It may be well to remind ourselves, in view of the widespread revival today of Leib-
niz's vision of a unified science, of the limits which he discovered to its development.
Three factors are important for the understanding of his own thought:
(1) Human knowledge, Leibniz himself discovered, is more relative and shifting
than his conception of method allows. It is true that modern logic does not hold his
conviction that, if we could but reach them, the simple notions out of which all being
is compounded would be sharply defined, easily enumerable, and all on one level as far
as their combination is concerned. His own recognition that in the analysis of existence
human efforts to arrive at finality are blocked by man's finiteness points to this con-
clusion. To anticipate Kant, we may say that such efforts finally confront the anti-
nomies which mark our knowledge of existence - those of finiteness and infinity,
plurality and unity, activity and passivity, change and permanence.
(2) Leibniz's failure to apply his own method perfectly illustrates this. It is true
that his papers contain many successful applications of the method of analysis and
synthesis, but except for his logical studies, his approach to philosophical prob-
lems was relative to experience and applied the method only within empirically
applicable limits. Excellent examples of this are the physical studies in Nos. 15 and 32.
Thus he generally uses a twofold method. His dynamics was written from both an
a priori and an a posteriori point of view - treating motion, and later force, abstractly
and concretely (Nos. 8 and 46). In law he attempted both the casuistic and the formal
and normative approach. No part of experience escaped his scrutiny - on the subjective
side joy and sorrow, dreams and the confusions of sense, the orderly processes of
memory, association, and thought, claims to the beatific vision; on the objective side,
everything from stellar relations to the microscopic cells which Leeuwenhoek showed
him, and from the impact of colliding bodies to the problems of architecture and other
arts, and the hidden harmonies and collisions of social order. Yet his rationalistic
assumptions protected him from falling into the empirical confusion between simple
enumeration and induction, origin and validity, while his wide interest in facts received
at least a formal unity from his search for the general principles of an exact scientific
instrument.
(3) Finally, metaphysics, though abstract, receives analogical support from one
empirical source of knowledge that escapes the symbolic and representational charac-
ter of the rest. This is man's experience of his own mental processes in reflection or the
internal sense, or after 1700, 'apperception'. Self-awareness of this immediate kind is
the only concrete intuitive knowledge which man possesses and proves adequate to
penetrate into the deepest levels of the soul and to reveal the enduring nature of its
thought and desires; if analogies are based on it, it provides the most concrete clue to
an explanation of the metaphysical categories or the simple perfections of God.
In whatever sense they are taken, it is always false to say that all our concepts come from the
senses which are called external; for the concepts which I have of myself and of my thoughts,
and as a result, of being, of substance, of action, of identity, and of many others, come from an
internal experience [1686; No. 35, Sec. 27].
The immediate apperception of our own existence and our thoughts provides us with the
first truths a posteriori or of fact, as identical propositions contain first truths a priori or of
reason, that is, the first lights. Both are incapable of being proved and can be called immediate,
the former because there is immediacy between the understanding and its object, the latter
because there is immediacy between the subject and the predicate [after 1704; G., Y, 415].
Thus the nature of the scientist himself, as given in immediate experience, throws a
more concrete light upon the metaphysical implications of his work.
V. LOGIC AND THE PRINCIPLES OF TRUTH AND REALITY
The problem of the relation of Leibniz's logic to his metaphysics is crucial in the
criticism of his thought. It does not belittle the excellence of Russell's and Couturat's
work to say that their efforts to show that his metaphysics is built upon his logic,
though not soundly, have been refuted. 32 Leibniz shared the Aristotelian and Scholas-
tic conviction that logic is a tool of thought, that it is a science of relations only as
these are thought, and that it must be grounded in the universal, self-differentiating
harmony which is reflected imperfectly in individual substances. His logical studies
aimed to provide the instruments by which man can grasp the structure of being in his
own symbolic formulas. They were devoted, first, to the perfection and reduction to
mathematical form of the Aristotelian logic, which he used most skilfully on occasion,
and then to the development of a more universal logic built upon mathematical
symbols, operations, and axioms. This logic was to become the instrument of his
universal science.
As has already been shown, however, there is a difficulty in adjusting Leibniz's logic
to his metaphysics, which corresponds to the difficulty he found in adapting Scholastic
terminology to functional modes of thought. Its source is to be found in his theory of
the proposition. His problem was to generalize a logic of the subordination or inclu-
sion of meanings into a logic of symbolic forms and then to make this fit both meta-
physical dynamism and metaphysical pluralism. In none of these tasks was he success-
ful.
The structures of classical logic consist of terms, propositions, and syllogisms.
Interpreted in terms of symbolic relations, however, these become formulas, relations,
and operations - logical entities which are more relative and interchangeable than the
traditional concepts. The operations of logic are for Leibniz processes of climbing the
scale of being from less adequate and complete to more adequate and complete
concepts or constructions or, to use the terminology of 1686, from partial to integral
concepts. But with this conception the notion of the proposition with which Leibniz
begins is not completely compatible.
In his opinion, all knowledge implies the identity of the complete predicate with the
complete subject. Identity is therefore the basic principle of possible knowledge,
whether of fact or of reason. Operationally, identity is defined by the possibility of
substitution; two terms are identical if one can be substituted for the other without

distortion of meaning. If they cannot, the reason is either contradiction or inade-

quacy. Contradiction, therefore, or the principle of impossibility, is implied in identity,
and the two are opposite aspects of the same law, which Leibniz sometimes calls the
basic law 0/ being. The principles of equality in mathematics, of congruence and simi-
larity in geometry and mechanics, and of equipollence or equivalence in dynamics are
particularized special cases of the general law of being upon which all truths of reason
and the a priori components of truths offact depend.
The principle that the predicate of every affirmative proposition is included in the
subject is therefore the most general logical consequence of the law of identity.33 But
Leibniz uses it also to express the ontological unity of a substance and its modifications.
Since this principle is important for his argument to individual substance, the logical
qualifications which he places upon it must be clear.
In the first place, the relation between predicate and subject must be understood
intensionally, not extensionally. Extensionally the relation would be reversed, and the
subject included in the predicate. Leibniz recognized both points of view and even
discussed the rules for conversion from one to the other, but his own metaphysics of
harmony required the intensional interpretation. 'All A is B' means always that the
properties of A, or the simple notions contained in it, include those of B. In the second
place, he recognized that there are human judgments with particular subjects of which
this is true only implicitly, not explicitly. Thus human judgments are synthetic, taken
empirically, though their analytic nature would become explicit if both subject and
predicate were further reduced to their simpler components. Thus 'Some A is B' means
that there is among the simple notions included in A at least one that itself includes B,
so that, calling this C, the particular proposition reduces to the two universal ones:
'All A is C' and 'All B is C'. This fundamental logical principle, which Leibniz had
some success in defining for the special cases of universal and particular affirmative
categorical propositions, is the logical unit in terms of which he undertook to reveal
the structure of meaning and existence.
The central issue in Leibniz's metaphysics may be put logically in the question
whether an individual substance can be identified with a complete or 'integral' logical
subject or whether it is merely 'partial' or incomplete. In Scholastic terms, he corre-
lates the basic logical proposition, predicatum subjecto inest, with the ontological
one "All modifications are of subjects" (Modi/icationes sunt suppositorum), both of
which he ascribes to Aristotle 34, a correlation which entails the third principle that
"there are no purely extrinsic denominations". These three principles converge to
support his view that every completely analyzed existential proposition would have an
individual substance as subject. But though he introduces a number of devices to
support this possibility of logical reduction to substantial individuals, notably the
distinction between direct (recto) and oblique logical relations, he does not succeed in
showing that, as particular propositions can be analyzed into more inclusive universal
propositions, these in tum must be referred to propositions with singular and concrete
subjects. His mathematical analogies throw more light upon this metaphysical problem
than does his logic.
It may be added in passing that, besides the law of identity, the law of sufficient
reason is also involved in this theory of the proposition. A reason for every predicate
must be found in the complete subject (analytically), and conversely, each predicate
serves as partial reason for the complete subject (synthetically). When analysis is
adequate, logical propositions will have substance as subject and its properties as
predicates, or using the mathematical analogy, an individual law as subject and its
implications, universal or particular, as predicates. The proposition, therefore, which
defines a complete concept or the concept of an individual must, Leibniz believes, have
as its subject an individual substance, and as its predicate all the simple notions which
determine the concrete individual but which include the universal harmony in which
it is based.
Definition is thus the logical form in which knowledge most completely expresses
the principle of identity and of being. As ideas are a higher form of being than natural
processes, definition is a higher form of knowledge, for Leibniz, than scientific law.
Since the ideas are dynamic, definition reveals not merely the structure of possibility
but the processes of existence as well. In human knowledge definitions are of three
kinds; if merely verbal, they are arbitrary and express the relation of symbols to mean-
ings only, and the test of their adequacy is the substitution of definiendum for definitum.
In themselves verbal definitions signify nothing about reality, and their use is purely
structural within restricted levels of discourse. Leibniz held that Hobbes's logic had
failed to establish his metaphysics because he recognized only verbal definitions.
Nominal definitions are real, but their predicates contain qualities sufficient to identify
their subjects. Descartes's basic argument was vitiated by his failure to establish the
possibility of his definition of God by the compatibility of the simple predicates it
contained, perfection and being, and his definition remained merely nominal. For a real
definition must contain in its predicate those essential concepts which serve to deter-
mine all the properties and modifications which are involved in the substance which
its composite subject represents; Leibniz sometimes calls these essentials determinants.
These are the simple, primary essences or concepts, ultimate perfections of God, out of
which concrete substances come into being, since all otber qualities, essential or tempo-
ral, arise by combination from them. In this sense a real definition is operational and
explains the individual subject in terms of predicates which involve the entire universal
harmony in which they are based. Paradoxically, Leibniz himself failed to establish
a priori the possibility of that concept on which all the rest depended and to prove
which he developed his theory of definition - the concept of a most perfect
being.
The general logical principles on which Leibniz tries to base his metaphysics are
thus Aristotelian. His use of the traditional logic was skilful and in some respects
original. He used traditional syllogistic structures most ably in controversy and
exposition; two notable examples are his letter on dynamics to Papin in 1691 (GM.,
VI, 204-11) and the summary of the Theodicy in logical form (G., VI, 376-87). He
derived the methods of immediate inference and the valid modes of the categorical
syllogism in various ways, notably by his own method of regression (a rebours), later
also used by C. S. Peirce, and developed both the Eulerian circles and a linear symbo-
lism for portraying relations in inclusion. He skilfully defended the traditional logic in a
letter to Gabriel Wagner (No. 48). But his search for a 'sublimer' logic, more universal
and useful, overshadowed these more traditional interests.
This was the 'logical calculus' for which so many studies are found among his
manuscripts, very inadequately represented in Nos. 24, 26, and 41. For his symbols he
turned to mathematics and language. In certain studies he tried to lay the ground for a
universal logical language, both oral and written, whose syntax should make correctness

of thought inevitable, and which might become an agency for scientific communication
and cultural universalism. But the mathematical analogy compelled his deeper interest
and more enduring efforts, since the symbols here were not to be merely arbitrary, as in
language, but real - in the same sense that real definitions differ from verbal. Like the
symbols of the calculus, they were to lead to the operations from which truth should
emerge. Of this logical calculus, the methods of ordinary algebra, the new infinitesimal
calculus, and the pure geometry of situation (Analysis situs, Nos. 27 and 70), were
merely separate and specialized applications.
The success of Leibniz's studies in the universal calculus was by no means final but
consisted rather in the fruitfulness of his individual insights. He was persistently led
to think of numbers or, when the elementary notions were unknown, of letters as
logical symbols. Prime numbers were to represent simple or primary notions, compound
numbers more complex notions, and the processes of multiplication and division (or
addition and subtraction) were to suffice for the construction of logical formulas. As
these limited concepts proved inadequate, he extended his understanding of logical
operations, but his invention was most fruitful when he abandoned arithmetical
operations for the direct relation of inclusion (No. 41). Couturat has studied the
phases through which his experiments passed, without, however, developing their
relations to his metaphysics. It must be said that the more general and relational
Leibniz's logical studies become, the more clearly they appear as abstractions from the
universal harmony and system of representations or mathematical functions of which
his universe consists and the less they help to determine the individual substances on
which he insisted. It is not surprising, therefore, that he was always inclined to move
back from the relational and combinatorial logic, which applied both within and
between compound substances, to the logic of predication, which he hoped would es-
tablish the existence of individual substances.
To this point Leibniz's logic is general and applicable to truths of reason and of fact
alike or to the realms of both possibility and existence. But except for the formal
analyses of mathematics, logic, and metaphysics, human reason is limited to truths of
fact, which involve not the enduring essences of substance but its changing accidents.
Existence is the result of the restricting creative act of God in choosing the best possible
of all possibilities; man's knowledge of existence is limited by his spatial and temporal
point of view, with the indistinctness and inadequacy of perception which these involve.
One of Leibniz's most distinctive achievements is his effort to adapt his logic and the
rationalistic principles on which it rests to the realm of existence and change. He does
this by using the concept of infinity to bridge the gap between essence and existence
and by reformulating the law of being and the law of sufficient reason to apply to tem-
poral events.
The fundamental law of existence is temporality or succession (Cout. OF., pp. 19-20).
Judgments of fact involve contradiction, as Parmenides saw, because they involve
change. But these contradictions can be removed by reference to time. Applied tem-
porally, the general law of sufficient reason is transformed into the principle of mecha-
nical causality, which Leibniz defends as adequate for existence. Thus for example in
the proposition, 'That spruce tree is living but will die', temporal reference resolves the
contradiction. 'A hedgehog has girdled or is girdling it': this is a sufficient reason for
the death of the tree. Therefore, 'the act of the hedgehog is causing the tree to die'.
Mechanical causality is thus temporal in its form, empirical in its content, and ab-
stract or 'partial' in its result. Such causal judgments are therefore capable of symbolic
representation, but since they are contingent, based on selected external relations
between events and not on their internal nature, they are merely probable. It is true
that if we could analyze all the causal dependences, we should arrive, empirically and
analytically, at simple essences and, synthetically, at the laws of the individual series
of perceptions (monads) involved and therefore at the mind of God. But this is
impossible because there is an infinity of monadic representations, and therefore of
contingent relations, involved in the death of the tree, and thus such reduction would
involve infinite stages of analysis. Since we cannot free ourselves from the relative
and inadequate representations to which we are bound, scientific analysis is an endless
task, and the notion of completely analyzed identities or laws of serial order for every
individual in the tree and the hedgehog is merely a scientific ideal, not its method.
In Leibniz's most active logical thinking, however, he recognizes a mediating form
of knowledge between truths of reason and truths of fact. This middle knowledge 3 S is
primarily God's; it is the logical process by which a particular order of events actually
comes into existence from the order of possibilities in God's mind. To be specific, it
involves the logic of the 'subordinate regulations', or the laws of nature, and their
relation to the more general logical principles of possibility. This middle knowledge is,
of course, infinitely removed from our analyses. But we have a formal analogy to the
process in the problem of maxima and minima in calculus, in which optimal and
unique principles are determined from among an infinity of ambiguous possibilities
by a kind of mathematical economy. As a definite instance of this process Leibniz
undertook to derive the laws of refraction and reflection as a problem of maxima and
minima (No. 50), a demonstration which led to the celebrated controversy on the
principle of least action in the next century. The principle 0/ the best possible is there-
fore not merely a pious assumption but a principle of mathematical necessity, which
provides a telic element in our scientific methods and principles. It rests on the per-
fection of God and the limitation necessary in a spatial and temporal order. Since not
all possibilities can be actualized, the best possible compossibles will exist, that is, the
greatest possible perfection with the least qualifying conditions. Its logical formulation
is the principle o/parsimony: that explanation is best which produces maximal results
with minimal assumptions. The principle 0/ conservation is a physical derivative. Every
scientific law or subordinate mechanical regulation is thus the best possible of an
infinity of possible rules, and the mechanical causes of nature must be completed,
ideally, in the final cause of universal perfection. Similarly every individual cannot
contain all possibilities; this would contradict his finite point of view. But he can and
does contain the best possible experiences or events, consistent with his dependence
upon the order of other existing beings and the universal harmony. This constitutes
his purpose. 36
The three levels of knowledge are thus made evident, and the logical principles on
which they are based formulated - truths of reason or of possibility, resting on the law
of being and of sufficient reason; truths of fact or of contingency, resting upon the
principle of individuality, on time and (phenomenally) on mechanical causality; and
the middle knowledge, resting on the law of maximal determination or the best
possible. Beyond these generalizations, the relations between the levels of being and of
knowledge are concealed from man in the two labyrinths - infinity and freedom
(No. 29). These are the labyrinths which separate the upper garden of essential truths

from the lower of contingent truths. Man's freedom, which consists in his spontaneity,
or the logical principle that all his modifications follow from the law of his own essen-
tial nature, or that his predicates are included in his essential subject, is freedom from
external mechanical contingency only but not from logical determination or from
self-compulsion. If our analysis could proceed to infinity, we should see how his
inquietude, his appetites and perceptions, his point of view, though logically implicit
in his substantial nature, are all rooted in the universal harmony as well. We are free
only because the events which constitute our individuality flow from the law of our
nature, but both are rooted in the perfect logical necessity of God's plan - our indi-
vidual law through the principle of the best possible, and our particular perceptions
through the functional relations by which they represent the universe. The inade-
quacy of this notion of freedom will be apparent in the discussion of Leibniz's theory
of error and his ethics; he himself sought to render it more acceptable by the practical
distinction between an order which necessitates and one which merely inclines.
The fundamental difficulty with Leibniz's logic is thus the question of whether it
allows a genuine pluralism and individualism or whether logical analysis and synthesis,
if carried out completely, can end only in God and his simple perfections. That his
final answer must be considered ambiguous and inconclusive may best be shown by a
reference to his difficulty with relations. It has become commonplace to interpret his
doctrine that there are no merely extrinsic denominations as supporting the inter-
nality of relations in one or more of the many meanings of that obscure theory. But
denominations, or modifications as observed by the mind, are not relations, though of
course they involve relations, and Leibniz himself was inconsistent on the significance
of the general relations used in his new calculus. Thus he writes to De VoIder, in
April 1702, that "there is no substance which does not involve a relation to all of the
perfections of all other substances whatever" (No. 55, V), which, together with his
belief that substances are the composites of their modifications, would imply relations
internal to the perceiving substance, at least. Yet to Des Bosses, and on many other
occasions, he made a distinction like the more recent one between relations and
relational predicates: "My judgment about relations is that paternity in David is one
thing, sonship in Solomon another, but that the relation common to both is a merely
mental thing whose foundation is the modifications of the individuals" (No. 63: letter
of April 21, 1714).37 His distinction between duration and extension as attributes of
bodies, and space and time as relations perceived outside of things, is similar (see No.
71, the fifth letter to Clarke).
We may conclude that Leibniz clung to the predicative viewpoint in logic in the
belief that it provides the logical grounds for a plurality of logically composite but
metaphysically simple substances, while the more abstract relational position does not,
but that he did not succeed in escaping the monistic implications of his own logic. The
real motives for his pluralism are to be found rather in physics, psychology, and ethics.
VI. MATHEMATICS AND PHILOSOPHY
It is psychology and mathematics that provide Leibniz with his chief sources of analogy
to the metaphysics of existence. From the former he drew his insight into the internal
nature of monads or individual series as perception and appetite. In his own great
discoveries in the latter field he found an analogy to the problem of the relation betwee n
monads, which his logic had not sufficed to make clear, and further light on the nature
of individuals. Three concepts essential to his infinitesimal calculus, particularly, pro-
vided clues to the relations of individuals, to the universal harmony and to each other.
These were the conceptions of mathematical function, continuity, and the infinite.
Like other scientists of his century, Leibniz was impressed by the adequacy of
mathematical knowledge and was convinced that the achievements of the age confirmed
the long tradition that mathematics is the grammar of nature. Particularly after he
himself had succeeded, by the invention of proper symbols, in solving both the tan-
gent and the quadrature problems within two weeks of each other 38 , his conviction
was clarified that 'real' characters and the formulas based upon them have both
operational and representative meaning. Analysis by determinants and the use of
series in the solution of transcendental problems in algebra supported his belief that
there are hidden but effective symmetries within the apparent wholes of experience. He
placed great weight upon the binary number system which he himself invented, not
only because it revealed fundamental relationships in the number system, but because
it seemed to have value as a symbol of creation - by One out of nothing. The mathe-
matical investigation of probability, then being rapidly developed, also seemed
significant to him, not merely for the promise it gave of making casuistry more exact
in law and morals, but because it offered hope of extending the functional viewpoint of
mathematics from merely formal and a priori considerations to truths of fact and
existence. 39 It is not surprising, therefore, that he should not only seek generalized
mathematical symbols and operations as the basis for a universal method but also
find in mathematics an abstract clue to the solution of the problem of relations and,
specifically, the relation of universal to particular.
The mathematical analogy results from the concept of mathematical function which
Leibniz developed as the basis of his calculus. Though the term itself, in its modern
meaning, is late in his writings, the idea is present from the Paris period on and un-
derlies the general theory of expression or representation which he first formulates in
this period. 40 Viewed functionally, an equation is a 'formula' or law of order which
expresses the continuous dependence of one variable upon one or more others. A
variable, in turn, is the symbolic representation of a continuous series of particular
values determined by the relationship expressed in the law to corresponding values of
the other variables. The same relationship can be expressed or represented geometri-
cally in a curve or other figure, depending on the number of dimensions or variables,
and the number of defining relations between them given in equations. If these defining
relations are inadequate, there remains a parameter, and the law of the series is in-
complete, defining not one case but a family of cases. A functional equation may be
solved for anyone of its variables in terms of the rest, and each such solution is a
distinct equation defining an individual series in terms of its relations. Every particular
value of the dependent variable, moreover, contains a factor determined by the corre-
sponding simultaneous values of the dependent variable; it is thus a unity of abstract
relations. But every particular value is also a transition between those preceding and
following it in the same series. Thus every functional relationship can be represented
by as many laws or equations as there are individual variables and by a complex but
harmonious and exactly defined quantitative dependence; each variable expresses all
the rest in a series of values following from its equation.
The existing universe may by analogy be regarded as a harmonious functional
For rejerrmces see p. 58

relationship between an infinity of variables. Each solution of this complex relation-

ship for one variable constitutes the individual notion or law of the individual series.
The individual which it determines, and, indeed, whose primary entelechy it is, con-
sists of a series of values, each of which is a transition between the preceding and
succeeding values, and each of which represents the corresponding values of all the
other variables or individuals involved in the universal harmony. Individuals are there-
fore serial processes, the continuous expressions of universal laws, but also conti-
nuously expressing the infinity of other individuals bound to them by the general
harmony.
Leibniz carried the analogy much further, however. Curves are not necessarily linear
but have inflections, maxima, and minima. Such inflections from internal causes
suggested to him the analogy to internal determination, whether conscious or uncon-
scious. Without such control, action would at every point be linear and tangential.
There are levels or depths of functional dependence within any individual series, and
these are implicit in every particular value. Thus the differential or rate of change of
the variable is a derivative of its idea or law; in physical motion this is quantity of
motion or momentum, mv, as opposed to quantity of force or living force, mv 2 ; in
mind it is the momentary appetite or affective drive. On the other hand, the integral
is the sum of all values within definite limits; in physics this is the total energy of a
physical system in motion; in psychology it is the concrete person, in contrast to the
law of the individual or the abstract essence of his nature on the one hand, and on the
other, his varying modes or experiences.
This mathematical analogy obviously breaks down at points. It offers no adequate
clue to the finiteness or limitation of individuals - no reason why some individual series
reflect the universe only blindly and narrowly, and others more or less materially and
more or less unclearly and inadequately. It does not involve the essentially temporal
nature of metaphysical individuals or monads; indeed, it is the timelessness of the
concept of mathematical function and series that drove Leibniz to emphasize the rela-
tive and phenomenal nature of space and time, which are therefore involved only in
special and concrete cases of the more general logical nature of logical predicates or
modifications. Yet the analogy offered Leibniz his ultimate solution of the problem of
physical causality - functional dependence - and particularly of the problem of the
mind-body relationship.
It is in terms of this functional system that he defined continuity and infinity. The
principle of continuity he generally stated in relation to the process of expression or
representation existing between two or more series. It is only in this application that
the principle can serve as the tool for criticizing mathematical and physical theories.
Datis ordinatis, etiam quaesita sunt ordinata. As the known variables are ordered, the
unknown variables are also ordered; to every value difference in the independent
variable, however small, there corresponds a value of the dependent. This principle
becomes Leibniz's criterion for testing mathematical and physical theories (Nos. 34,
37,42, 46, etc.); it also provides the reason why finite knowledge can always approach
but never attain the continuously varying processes of existence. For there is within
existence a multidimensional infinity. There is the infinity of extension in time and
space, which Leibniz generally treats as a fiction, or describes merely as indefinite,
insofar as numbers cannot be assigned to it. Likewise he also calls a numerical infin-
itesimal a fiction (Nos. 54, 56, etc.). But there is also the infinite involved in the possi-
bility of endless analysis of the continuous finite. For every finite series involves infinite
differentials; there are differentials of the first, second, and nth order and integrals
similarly infinite. So too every perception involves an infinity of representative elements
corresponding to the infinity of God's thoughts and their monadic expressions. Such
infinity is a necessary consequence of the law of sufficient reason and the principle
of plenitude or perfection, since no reason can be given for any finite limit. He writes
in a note for a letter to Des Bosses:
There is a syncategorematic infinite or a passive power having parts - namely the possibility of
further progression in dividing, multiplying, subtracting, and adding. There is also a hyper-
categorematic infinite or a potestative infinite, an active power having parts eminently, as it
were, not formally or actually. This infinite is God himself. But there is no categorematic infi-
nite, or one actually having infinite parts [September 1, 1706; G., II, 314 n.l.
That is to say, Leibniz does not hold that there are real infinites and infinitesimals in
existence, as Russell interprets him; they are in existence only as possibilities of ana-
lysis and synthesis. Real infinity is only in the realm of possibility and in God, whose
thought supports the possibility of endless processes of analysis by which finite minds
would have to attain him. Infinity is thus not the simple boundless and undefined of the
ancients; it is the eternal quasi-mathematical perfection of God, variously symbolized
but never intuited by finite minds. Swift's parody,
So naturalists observe, a flea
Has smaller fleas that on him prey;
And these have smaller still to bite 'em,
And so proceed ad infinitum,
does indeed reflect the remarks in some of Leibniz's popular expositions of his thought-
But such phenomenal notions are but analogues to the infinity of process to which
mathematics give a purer expression. A better example would have been to imagine a
complete logical analysis, beginning with the mechanical, of the complex structure of
concepts involved in the benzene ring or in the representation of sodium by a certain
set of lines in the spectrum.
VII. PHYSICS AND THE REALM OF NATURE
If Leibniz's mathematical concepts suggested the answer to the metaphysical problems

of the relation of individual to universal and of change to permanence, it is his physics
that gave his philosophy the more definitely empirical and temporalistic direction
which it assumed toward the end of the seventeenth century. For it is in his physical
writings that he first sharply distinguished his own conception offorce from the merely
formal power of the Aristotelians (No. 45).
Both atomists and Cartesians had been impelled by the new discoveries of science to
separate the physical world from the order of spirit - the two realms which both Plato-
nist and Aristotelian had held firmly together by the same principles of organization,
the forms or ideas. In his youthful walk in the Rosenthal, Leibniz had decided for the
new mechanism, but he probably never rejected the necessity of mind as the source of
activity and purpose within nature itself. His first interest in the problems of physics
themselves arose in Mainz out of two theological problems: the need to analyze motion

to prove the existence of God and the need to analyze corporeal substance to prove
trans substantiation. Both motives impelled him to take a realistic view of physical
things but to stress the continuity of physical processes with mental and the insepara-
bility of mechanism and purpose (Nos. 3; 5, II; 8; 10). It was the Academic skeptic
Foucher at Paris (No. 11) who forced him to consider the claims of phenomenalism-
claims which led him eventually to a distinction between 'well-founded' physical
phenomena and their metaphysical foundations, to a relativistic interpretation of
physical motion, and to the distinction between force and motion. 41 At the same time
began his penetrating criticism of Descartes's conception of matter and motion.
Finally, it seems to have been Newton's Principia, which reached him in Italy around
1690, that moved him to attempt a systematic formulation of his dynamics (Nos. 42,
43, and 46), and the differences between his views and Newton's are the subject of the
correspondence in progress with Samuel Clarke when Leibniz died in 1716 (No. 71),
though Clarke's theological interests prevented the argument in these letters from
being restricted to physical problems.
In this long development the pattern of Leibniz's thinking remains largely the same,
though some internal inconsistencies are removed and refinements added. Motion is
reducible to conatus or impulsion, and though he at first considered a conatus as
momentary motion, he later regarded it as momentary force, which mediates between
the metaphysical source and the resulting motion. Corporeal bodies, too, are pheno-
menal results, not of geometric relations or of mere properties of permanence and
impenetrability, but of metaphysical points or centers of force resulting from laws.
An inorganic body is but the aggregate of such serial forces, appearing in their inter-
dependence to a perceiving mind as spatial and temporal. Thus the dynamic function
of the harmony of ideas appears as physical force; its passive correlate, as mass or re-
sistance. The principle of identity reappears in the equipollence of expended force and
work done in a physical transaction or, more generally, in the conservation of force
(No. 34, etc.), while the law of sufficient reason becomes the principle of mechanical
interpretation. Thus the analogy from metaphysics to physics is in outline complete.
Physics is always regarded as a subordinate science which corroborates theology, but
one which can be established empirically and independently of metaphysics as well and
which concerns a real order of creation, the realm of nature appearing to sentient
beings as the physical world. 42
Like space and time, the orders in which man perceives simultaneous and successive
events, motion is relative to observation. There is no possibility or need, within physics
itself, to establish an absolute space, time, matter, or motion, for no absolutes are
found in the quantitative relations of force, and the result is always the same when a
system of bodies in motion is measured, regardless of which particular body is chosen
as point of reference. Measurements of motion are exactly analogous to real definitions;
just as different real definitions of the same subject are possible until ultimate simple
notions are reached by analysis, so many different measures of motion are valid, and
that system of reference is to be chosen which is best fitted to the particular problem
being investigated. 43 Yet, whatever system is chosen, the quantitative relations will be
the same, for physical invariants are not material but mathematical and logical. The
reals in physics are functional relations of force, and these appear to our reason
absolutely when we have adequate ideas, while bodies and observed motions are
relative and variable.
It is at this point that the Leibnizian and Newtonian conceptions are at greatest
variance. Russell has rightly pointed out that Leibniz himself obscured the issue be-
tween them by confusing the problem of the absoluteness of matter and motion with
that of action at a distance, which, like the Cartesians, he rejected as a miracle, though
it was probably more compatible with his own theory of physical relations than with
Newton's materialism. In any case, the difficulties in both opinions are still real, and
physicists have by no means become unanimous in their approval of one or the other,
though the mathematical harmonies developed by recent microphysics, on an ener-
gistic and relativistic basis, seem to support Leibniz rather than his distinguished
adversary.
Leibniz's further analysis of force must be traced in the writings of the 1690's in
which his most advanced thoughts were developed. As derivative force, it is the
physical correlative of the impulsion of the ideas to act and is thus 'better founded'
than motion, and certainly than the merely phenomenal properties of inertia and
impenetrability manifested by bodies. The dual aspect of the ideas, active and
passive, is therefore conveniently reflected in force, which manifests itself actively in
different integrations as solicitation, conatus, momentum, and vis viva (ma, mv, and
mv 2 in aggregate bodies), while its passive pole, materia prima, appears as inertia and
impenetrability in an aggregate body. Both active and passive force, in turn, therefore
appear as primitive and derivative forms, and it is their derivative or secondary aspects
which are manifested in physical phenomena as impulsion and matter respectively.
Active primitive force or power is metaphysical; Leibniz also calls it entelechy, sub-
stantial form, and soul. Its basis, however, is ultimately the idea, the law of the
individual series, or the possibility which determines a particular series of impulsions.
Primary passive force, on the other hand, is materia prima, the momentary inertia of
any unitary being as acted upon, which, when found in a composite body, becomes
secondary matter or derivative passive force - the properties of inertia and resistance
in the impact of bodies.
From these fundamental relations, together with the principle of the conservation of
force - that in any system of moving bodies the sum of mv 2 is a constant - there arise
three further principles of conservation in colliding bodies. If a and b are bodies whose
velocities before collision are v and y respectively, and after collision x and z respect-
ively, (1) relative velocities are conserved (v+y=z+x); (2) quantity of progress is
conserved (av+by=ax+bz); and motive action is conserved (av 2 +by 2=ax 2 +bz 2).
These relations, Leibniz holds, can be established a posteriori through experiment but
also a priori through derivation from the principles of continuity, sufficient reason,
and equipollence.
On the nature of physical bodies, however, Leibniz seems never to have achieved an
ultimate unambiguous solution. Space and time being the forms of corporeality, a body
(as secondary matter) seems on first appearance to be a bounded space filled with
homogeneous qualities, which may be at rest or in motion. But such a body is both
materially and mathematically divisible and hence not a true individual (at least as far
as its temporal and spatial dimensions are concerned) but an aggregate. As the
second proposition of the Monadology puts it, "There must be simple substances
because there are compound, for the compound is nothing but an aggregate of
simples."
Such analysis reveals the incorrectness of both Cartesian and atomic conceptions of

matter. On the one hand, there is no sufficient reason for stopping such analysis short
of what is further indivisible, and such an indivisible part is, mathematically, a fiction,
a continuum not composed simply of points. To attempt to stop with indivisible but
extended atoms is logically inconsistent and fails to explain cohesion, rigidity, elasticity,
and related phenomena, since the concept of an atom presupposes them. Contrary to
Descartes's view, again, matter includes more than mere extension, since it may
occupy different spaces, may change its situation with respect to the same space, and
possesses the properties of impenetrability and inertia. The results of analysis are
therefore not merely geometric points but metaphysical points of force, to understand
which it is necessary to enter the temporal dimension. The phenomenal body is the
continuous representation, not only of momentary simultaneous states, but of success-
ive momentary forces or conatuses. Such units of force explain not merely the conti-
nuity of a body, which is phenomenal; they explain also the impenetrability and inertia
of apparently rigid composite bodies and their elasticity in impact.
Leibniz's proper answer to the question of the unity of a material mass in gross
perception is therefore that such unity is phenomenal but is the result of an underlying
real harmony offunctional relations between many force-point series or naked monads,
perceived indistinctly by a mind. As a spatial and temporal whole, but no more, a
body is phenomenal. As a plurality of active forces and their mutual resistances, it is a
real creation. On the level of uncreated being it is determined by a harmonious pattern
of mathematical laws or ideas. There is therefore no unity in body apart from the
laws which produce it; all other unity is imparted by the limited purposes of perceiving
minds. This is in fact the explanation with which Leibniz contents himself in his
compact expositions to Cartesians and courtly friends.
But from the very beginning of his thought, this explanation is supplemented - and
some would hold, opposed- by another which seeks to avoid the phenomenal nature of
bodies and to ascribe a metaphysical bond of unity to them. The motive for such an
effort was theological; the doctrine of trans substantiation as formulated by the Council
of Trent required a real body (No.5, II). For some years during his stay in Paris, Leibniz
seemed inclined to accept the Cartesian dualism, thus retreating from the more ad-
vanced position of his physical writings of 1671 (Nos. 8, I, and 10). In the discussion
with Arnauld in 1686 and 1687, and frequently later, he seems to think of every body
as dominated by a unifying soul or monad; certainly he assigns a body to every monad.
But he also frequently holds that only living organisms, including rational animals,
have such a dominant monad. And in the discussion with the Jesuit Des Bosses
(No. 63) he returns to the late Scholastic notion of a substantial chain (vinculum sub-
stantiale) binding the monads of a body together. This theory has been explained away
as an effort on his part to adjust his theories to Jesuit thought by a conception which he
himself did not accept, and the tentative quality of his language does much to support
this interpretation. 44 It has also been interpreted as a definite movement of Leibniz's
thoughts back to realism and to Scholastic sources. 4S As the correspondence develops,
the substantial chain appears to be both an active and a passive principle, added to the
monads yet inseparable from them, subject to natural law yet above it, like a ruling
monad yet not monadic in structure, and at length a law of organization. Finally
(August 19, 1715), Leibniz states his own preference for a phenomenal view of body.
Appearing at a time when he is concerned with the individual rather than the universal,
with change rather than eternity, and with freedom rather than logical necessity, the
notion of a substantial chain may well express his own desire to provide a realistic
interpretation of naive experience. But the interpretation most consistent with his
system must regard the substantial chain as a principle of organization, a lesser har-
mony or secondary complex of individual laws, as it were, within the greater harmony
of God's creative plan.
That the mechanical laws of physics can be shown to be special temporalizations of
the eternal laws of possibility46 is, for Leibniz, another evidence that the realm of
nature or of mechanical necessity can be fully understood only through its relation to
the realm of grace or of purpose. This, again, is the field of the middle knowledge, to
show, so far as human knowledge can, that natural laws are the best possible or most
determined instances of universal logical laws. In spite of the limits of our understand-
ing, physics serves to support two important metaphysical principles: first, that the
force of every real individual is private to itself, since it follows from its own law, and
second, that the realm of existence receives its purpose and value from the realm of
essence, so that the mechanical order is subordinate to a spiritual realm which has its
being in the relation between the two.
Physics is thus a special application of the most general principles of metaphysics
on the level of well-founded phenomena, naively perceived - and therefore indistinctly
and inadequately - as things in space and time, but adequately understood by the
scientist as energetic series functioning in a responsive intercourse. Always more con-
cerned than Newton with its relation to metaphysics and theology, Leibniz foresees
the advance of physics beyond the stage of its naive analogies of bouncing billiard
balls and pelting hailstones to the subtler mathematical and dynamic analogies of
fields of force.
VIII. BIOLOGY
It is in Leibniz's biological views, stimulated by the stirring dicoveries of his age in that
field, that he finds a compelling confirmation of his organic theory of the individual.
Even within the realm of nature, mechanism is not a simple linear concatenation of
impulsion and motion; it is merely an abstraction from the complex interwoven tempo-
ral progression of representation or expression. Every causal connection among
phenomena rests upon this relationship and therefore upon a part-whole structure of
the simplest order. For representation is itself the expression of many in one; a single
perception is for Leibniz a whole composed of many contributing relations and is itself
a member of a more inclusive whole, the individual monad whose law it expresses.
Mechanical causality is but a phenomenal abstraction from such concrete represen-
tational unities, for when two beings are in a representative relationship, the one
whose expression is the more clear and distinct is regarded as the cause, and the one
whose perception is less distinct as the effect (No. 34, Sec. 15). The determination of
parts by wholes, that is, the determination of the activities ingredient in a functional
system by the individual monads and transmonadic harmonies, is thus more ultimate
than mechanism for Leibniz's metaphysics of existence.
Not only the individual actualized monad is a whole which determines its particular
perceptions in this sense; the unity of mind and body, a plurality of monads function-
ing organically under the dominance of a central soul or spirit monad, is also a genuine
purposive whole, even though it is not a metaphysical individual. Leibniz's vitalism is
thus one of organization and function rather than of substance, and the continuity of

the organism and its processes rests on functional laws and the series of events which
they determine, rather than upon material unity.
Leibniz developed this vitalistic biology in direct criticism of Descartes's mechanism
and in support of the remarkable discoveries which the microscope was making
possible. Hobbes and the atomists, who interested him early, seemed to support
Descartes, but Leeuwenhoek's discovery of cells and spermatozoa seemed to him to
answer so many questions left open by mechanism that he not only remained a vitalist
but stressed the continuity of plant and animal life (letter to Bourguet; No. 69, II) and
the permanence of the animal organism, subject only to processes of evolution and of
'envelopment' or the loss of structures and functions. He agreed that animal behavior
has its mechanical parallels and may therefore be considered as a most complex
machine. But its essential nature can be understood only through a very complex
soul monad, with perceptions clear enough to be considered as causes of bodily
movements, and expressing higher laws in the sequence of its perceptions than do
inorganic monads - the laws enabling habituation, memory within limits, the pseudo-
reasoning or 'empirical consecutions' resulting from association or conditionedrespon-
ses without reflection or ratiocination.
Plant and animal souls are thus monads on a higher level of organization than
physical force but with energy built into the bodily structures with which they are
inseparably united. The unity of the soul is in part a reflection or representation of the
body, for it consists, on one level, of sensory and affective content of great complexity
'caused' by the body. On the active level, however, the soul consists of the greater
continuity of purpose which its power of habituation and memory, however fragmen-
tary, makes possible. The internal causal unity of the complex purposes within an ani-
mal organism is therefore to be conceived as itself a monad, and even, within limits,
a conscious monad, in functional interdependence with the naked monads which
together comprise its body.
At this point Leibniz's mathematical functionalism is well adapted to support
biological functionalism as well, for the stimulus-response arc and the analysis of life
as the adjustment of internal to external relations in order to conserve a constancy of
energy, fit almost without any translation, into his own thought. The functional unity
of body and dominant soul reflects changes in its environment, first of all in the
primary matter of the body monads and the resulting readjustment of their expressions,
and thus in the feelings and sensibilities of the soul monad, while reactions may be
instituted on various levels of bodily organization and the corresponding levels of the
soul. The relation of animal soul to body is thus isomorphic, but in such a way that the
purposes implicit in body mechanisms become conscious and explicit in the soul.
Thus the living organism is a more perfect analogue than the inorganic body or a
separate soul to the universe as a whole, where the purposes of nature become explicit
in the society of spirits.
In his theory of the origin and development of the organism Leibniz was, like the
most influential microbiologists of his day, a preformationist. His own theory that
each monad is created by God was supported by the victory of the animalculists,
following Leeuwenhoek, over the ovulists, following Harvey; the growth of the
complex organism from a single cell supported his conception that all change is by
internal force and not by the interplay of forces between individual and environment.
But his preformationism must not be understood in a naive and materialistic sense.
Not every organ already exists in miniature in the original cell; rather the function of
every organ is already determined in the laws of the changes of the original living
unity. Bodies grow by aggregation, but the processes of growth are determined by the
laws involved in the general harmony. In short, Leibniz is Weismannian rather than
Spencerian. Though he seems not to have seen the possibility of mechanisms of here-
dity, his interpretation of bodily growth and depletion provides for a law of devel-
opment into which surrounding conditions can introduce no new factors. Preforma-
tion involves transformation. The soul may expand with a more complex body, or
suffer depletion and reduction in death, but it cannot be destroyed by nature, and all
its changes are involved in its law of organization, while they evolve in harmony with
a changing and enlarging environment.
It is tempting to think of Leibniz as an evolutionist. His law of continuity stimulated
later theories, and he suggested a 'natural evolution' within the individual organism
(G., II, 399, 403). His Protogaea outlined the development of the earth and the solar
system. In the later decades of his life his inclination to break the great chain of
being, or at least to talk as though it did not exist, became more pronounced. But
though he recognized novelties in the experience of men, both within themselves and
in the external order of nature, there is nothing which is not determined by the plan of
God, who creates not only individual souls but the classes to which they belong.
Leibniz's tendency to emphasize progress is generally restricted to man, human
history, and the realm of grace. It was characteristic of the closing century to think of
continuous progress toward perfection; it was not yet within the intellectual climate
to think of nature in terms of the emergence of new structures. Leibniz's theory of
preformation (a special case of his logical determinism) precluded his advance to a
conception of the unfolding of the forms of life, as genetic determinism still conflicts
with evolution. Nor had Linnaeus yet shown the way, as he did to Kant.
IX. PSYCHOLOGY
It is psychology rather than biology which provides Leibniz with his most concrete
metaphysical analogies, as mathematics provided him with the analogies to the uni-
versal harmony. The human situation is such that we ourselves are metaphysical
individuals of high order and possessed of a unique ability to observe ourselves and
thus to know one monad, at least, intimately and directly without the intervention of
symbols, and therefore not as mere appearance.
Psychology 47 had been a central interest of Leibniz since his student days, when he
outlined a functional account of mind, of Aristotelian pattern and without an ana-
lysis of subjective content, in a long note amplifying the ethics of Thomasius. 48 At
Mainz he noted Hobbes's need of a philosophy of mind and proposed to write an Ele-
menta de mente (Nos. 4 and 10). His general method was to find application here as
well as in physics; mind was to be approached both a priori and a posteriori, both from
general priciples and from direct observation. In the latter method Leibniz showed
great skill, particularly in studying dream processes (No.5, III), memory, states of
extreme fatigue and introversion (No. 13), and the like. His empirical psychology had
as its object the mind, not the body, though he sometimes made skilful use of Hobbes's
theory of physiological traces and found important analogies in animal behavior and
animal drives to the organization of the human mind on levels below that of reason

(No.2). His analyses of mental growth, of the motives and processes of human learning
and even of the laws of association are thoroughly functional. Even his theory of the
unconscious, though demanded by the structure of his thinking, was given support
by the empirical facts of human responses.
The a priori approach to mind, on the other hand, consisted in the use of definitions
to adapt the general analysis of individuality to the psychological subject. Here it was
terms that made trouble for Leibniz; his difficulty was that of all introspective psy-
chology - the illumination of inner experience through words which must be used in
an analogical sense. Beginning with Aristotle and the Scholastics, he turned to Augus-
tine's theory of memory and reflection, followed Descartes in his inclusive use of
cogito, and at length settled upon the simple and revealing notions of appetite and
perception, which become will and apperception when lighted by the internal sense, as
the most fitting to unite the empirical and rationalistic approaches to mind.
Like all other individuals, then, the soul is a substance with modes, but only in the
sense that the individual laws are the substantial sources from which the force of
existing series and their changes arise. The soul is, first of all, a complete idea rooted in
the universal harmony, and the very complex serial and dynamic process fulfilling that
idea in continuous relationship to its environment and to its own preceding and
subsequent states; it is also the actual sum or integral of these states or series of acts,
combined by their interdependence into one subject. There are many strata, therefore,
in the human soul throughout its temporal and spatial dimensions. The deepest is that
of the law of the individual series, complex enough to be abstracted into many separate
laws, and the source of the innate ideas or logical principles according to which experi-
ence is ordered. Upon it are built the impulsions or conations experienced as a basic
inquietude 49 , from which appetites and desires arise. On it rest also the petites percep-
tions, which are innumerable in every conscious perception. The intricate continuity of
perceptions and appetites which makes up the existing soul has its active represen-
tative and its passive material aspects and thus consists of an, inert qualitative content
expressive of the simultaneous, preceding, and consequent states of the universe. On
the human level this may rise to the level of thought and will. Finally, there is the
highest level, reflection or the internal sense, which penetrates into the soul itself to
varying degrees, illuminating its contents, its actions, and even in part its innate law,
but also always leaving an infinity of perceptions and laws dark and beyond its
scrutiny. Upon this reflective power memory and reasoning depend.
Leibniz's theory of sensation and feeling provides the basis for his interpretation of
the interdependence of body and mind. There is an active representation of a bodily
condition by the mind, on the one hand, and a 'causal' relation between an indistinct
and confused mental quality (or 'matter') and its more distinct bodily cause, on the
other. Leibniz rejects at once any physical interpretation of sense experience (No. 71,
fifth letter to Clarke, Sec. 84). A sensation is a passive quality of the soul represen-
tative of a complex bodily process; in the Paris notes and elsewhere Leibniz suggests
that it expresses action and resistance in the body. No sensation is simple, for it already
involves a complex of unfelt impressions, as well as memory and attention. The case of
feeling is similar, though feelings are the material and qualitative aspects of the tem-
poral transitions of the soul - the momentary impulsions from one perception to the
next. Upon a permanent undercurrent of inquietude there arise the basic feelings of
pleasure and pain, which are themselves, like sensations, imperfect expressions of
basic harmonies - though in this case the harmonies and disharmonies of the varied
impulsions are in the body and the soul itself.
But it is the unique capacity of the mind to turn upon its own acts and observe them
that distinguishes it from individuals of lower order. Reflection is not self-awareness
in the sense of the awareness of an ego, actor, or personal unity at every moment
of experience; it is always associated with a kind of momentary memory and attention,
in which the immediately past state is carried over into the present. As reflection is
supported by analysis and synthesis, however, it extends beyond the awareness of
immediate but confused states of mind to an awareness of the mind's processes, and
eventually to its structure or law. The ce moi or ego of which he repeatedly speaks as
the source of profoundest metaphysical insights is indeed implicit in the acts and
processes of the mind but is distinctly perceived only in an advanced level of reflection.
Self-consciousness is thus not a part of every mental act; the datum of mind is its
passive content or primary matter. But reflection is the condition of all consciousness
more enduring than momentary felt impulses and sensory qualities. Only through
reflection can perception become apperception 50, and appetite will, so that a clearly
and distinctly perceived unity of purpose may emerge.
From 1670 on Leibniz thinks of reflection as the source of the felt unity of conscious-
ness (Nos. 8, I; 10; 13; etc.). But such growing experience of self, still intermittent and
confused, is not yet self-knowledge. To know one's self is to perceive clearly the real
unity from which the manifoldly changing states emerge, and this is possible only when
critical thought has discovered the permanent law of the individual series. Personal
identity resides not merely in self-consciousness but in the law according to which the
series of one's experience develops.
Leibniz did not, of course, anticipate the efforts of modern differential psychologists
to approximate such a law of individuality, whether as psychic profile or as typical
structure. His conception of method, however, would have led him to recognize the
value, however limited and abstract, of both. In the law of every individual there is
expressed a distinctive point of view or perspective, not only of space and time in sense
perception, but of Anlage or temperament in the deepest affective and appetitive levels
of the soul. For mind is made up of many strands or minor motor-affective-perceptive
series corresponding to the various functions of the body, out of the interactions of
which the dominant purposes of the individual arise in conformity to his individual law.
Though beasts lack this reflection, they are capable of habituation on the basis of
similar responses to similar or connected sense impressions and appetites. Such pseudo-
reasoning or 'empirical consecution' occurs according to the laws of association, and
all animals learn by this means, men certainly not least of all. 51 But such associations
are not to be confused with reasoning, or the analysis and synthesis of symbolic truth,
which applies to experience entirely different principles from those of association.
Thus reflection or apperception, accompanying all consciousness beyond the most
confused qualities of feeling, makes human intelligence possible and determines the
threshold between consciousness and the unconscious.
Personality is for Leibniz essentially a moral concept. It implies apperception, for
our person is "the memory and knowledge of what we are". But Leibniz is moved by
the legal conception of person to find its essence in moral responsibility, thus providing
the psychological unit upon which his social philosophy is built. S2
Of the remaining metaphysical problems related to Leibniz's psychology, the most

controversial are the mind-body relation and human freedom. A school of interpreters,
of whom Kuno Fischer is the most prominent, has held that the spirit monad is a
mind-body unity in the Aristotelian sense, mind being but the form of the body -
though Leibniz called it substantial form - and body merely the matter of the mind.
It must be admitted that Leibniz's own utterances are both ambiguous and contra-
dictory on this problem; his complete view is not often stated clearly. Both materia
prima and body are used in ambiguous senses, which confuse the reader. But the most
coherent interpretation, clearly expressed in the correspondence with De VoIder and
elsewhere, ascribes a matter to the soul itself, but a soul to living and conscious bodies
only, though the ingredient monads in a body are analogous to souls (No. 54, letter
of June 20, 1703). The body is that organized part of creation which spirit represents
or expresses most continuously and adequately, and therefore 'dominates'; the body,
conversely, 'causes' the material content of the soul and corresponds to its activities.
If cause be understood in the descriptive sense of Bume and his successors, or in the
functional sense in which Leibniz defined it to Arnauld, he recognizes a causal relation-
ship between mind and body. But efficient causality is internal to the series of events by
which each monad proceeds from its law, that is, from God. In repudiating inter-
actionism, Leibniz, like the Cartesians, was still refuting the crude theory of a physical
influx which Suarez had popularized throughout Europe. Be himself frequently used
the language of interaction and even, in medical discussions, of psychological materi-
alism. Ultimately he was a parallelist, not in the obvious sense of Spinoza, whose view
he criticized even before he had read the Ethics (No. 12), but rather in the sense of
contemporary isomorphism.
As we have already implied, Leibniz's theory of the unconscious was necessitated
by his opinion that mind represents the entire universe and therefore contains levels of
psychic content and organization into which the light of attention and reflection does
not penetrate. The theory is not new with him, as it had arisen whenever a similar
distinction was made between mens and animus or between perception and reflection. 53
The notions of repression, sublimation, hysteria-mechanisms, and the censor have
been found in Leibniz, and the technique of reconstructing reactions through associ-
ation as well. 54 But the unconscious serves Leibniz primarily as a bridge between his
psychology and his epistemology and between a finite individual who perceives imper-
fectly and an infinite God and his universe. The deepest level of spirit is God himself,
who "belongs to me more closely than my body" (No. 40), and who provides the
norms and principles which are my guide and determine my duty.
The problem of freedom is not a psychological one for Leibniz. Yet he frequently
approaches it from an empirical analysis, especially in his reply to Locke. Like him,
he rejects a liberty of indifference and finds the clue to the analysis of choice in the
relative strength of man's conflicting appetites and the feeling of inquietude which
expresses this. Scientific and theological considerations unite to incline Leibniz, like
most of the orthodox thinkers of his age, to a basic determinism of law, though a
determinism of great complexity, and one which in his case is restricted to the efficient
causality within the individual himself. Leibniz could never show the difference
between God merely inclining me to certain actions and God necessitating me; all he
could show was the difference between a necessity arising out of logical laws, which
were not enough to determine a concrete existing world, and the necessity arising out
of God's choice of the best, or the principle of least action, which does suffice to deter-
mine it. The element of probability which enters into our knowledge of our own actions
is exactly the kind which enters into our knowledge of physical processes, save that the
necessity which it fails to measure is within rather than without us. Leibniz identifies
freedom with spontaneity, but this is merely the determined order in which the soul's
active modifications proceed from its law .
.In contrast to the metaphysical constructions which create these difficulties in
Leibniz's psychology, however, his perceptive insights into the depths of the mind and
its complex activities have proved to be suggestive to the psychologists who followed
him, and the development of mentalistic psychology from Herbart's and Wundt's
theories of apperception to later theories of the unconscious may be interpreted as an
increasingly anti-intellectualistic and voluntaristic version of some of his views. Even
today, his notions of an individual law, of an only infrequently and imperfectly orga-
nizing and guiding agent, and of the sharp difference between conditioned response and
thought are guiding principles which theories of mind must take seriously.
X. THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE
Knowledge is a special case, but a unique one (since the monad is itself the knower), of
the general process in which a metaphysical individual is related to the order of univer-
sal harmony and to the existing world involving that order. Metaphysics is there-
fore prior to epistemology in Leibniz's thought; knowledge is of a real world order
greater than ourselves, in which both the objects known and the principles involved in
our knowing them are grounded. From his early years Leibniz supplemented Descartes's
primary proposition as follows: I think, therefore I am; but I also have a diversity of
thoughts, and, since a sufficient reason is needed for these being as they are, there is an
existing world (No. 11). Knowledge is neither simple apprehension of being nor merely
the mental creation of an order of experience. It is the revelation of independent
reality under the limitations of finite representation. Man's individuality, his depend-
ence on a point of view, and the passive elements of sense and feeling in his nature
prevent pan-objectivism; the universal harmony revealed with our experience prevents
a solipsism, even in the false pluralistic sense that each of us creates his private world
(No. 35, I). The universal orders of possibility, nature, and grace are worlds known in
common, though the point of view of each mind is different. Knowledge therefore,
whether merely theoretical or involving the will, is always, insofar as it is true, a percep-
tion of the universal harmony or of its operation in existence; but, insofar as it is
mediated by sensory and symbolic content, it is relative and phenomenal. Except in
reflection, however, we do not perceive the subjective content of our minds; we perceive
an independent reality.
Human knowledge is thus a special case of the process of perception by which the
harmony between existing individuals is maintained. 55 Each perception, following the
mathematical analogy, is the expression of a plurality of relations in a simple unity of
content, and each perception is related purposively to the preceding and succeeding
events within the mind by the law of the individual. Perceptions are not ideas. An idea
is the possibility, the pattern, of a perception; it is an ingredient in the individual law
which, when actualized, becomes a perception. Thus every perception has an internal
meaning related to the purposes of the individual and an external meaning represen-
tative of the universe.

It is with this dual reference of human knowledge that Leibniz's logic begins, as we
have already seen. When reflection opens the mind's processes and content to itself,
and thus makes thought possible, the internal structure of perceptual patterns becomes
reasoning (ratiocinari), the external becomes symbolic reference. And to these two
aspects of knowledge the universal calculus and the universal characteristic correspond
as instruments for the logical perfection of truth.
With Descartes's criterion of clear and distinct knowledge Leibniz was never
satisfied, and he insisted that later Cartesians had done little to improve it. His own
analysis of the stages of truth and their corresponding criteria was worked out under
the stimulus of the celebrated controversy between Arnauld and Malebranche over the
nature of ideas and of representation, in a paper which, to judge the frequency with
which he later cited it, he considered adequate and decisive for his thought. This is the
Meditations on Knowledge. Truth. and Ideas (No. 33), which he published in 1684, the
first of his strictly philosophical writings. Knowledge is obscure if it fails to give recog-
nition of the thing represented or to distinguish it from adjoining things. It is clear
when it suffices for such identification. Clear knowledge, furthermore, is confused when
one cannot enumerate the essential marks or determinants of the thing represented or,
in short, define it; it is distinct if these marks can be enumerated. Such enumeration is a
nominal definition. Distinct knowledge, again, is inadequate if a real definition can be
given in terms of the determinants essential to it, so that the possibility of the concept
is established; but these separate determinant notions cannot themselves be thus
defined. When this can be done, however, so that the concept of the thing known has
been analyzed completely into primary notions and truths, knowledge is adequate.
Such knowledge, in tum, is either symbolic (or blind) or intuitive. Man has perfect
intuitive knowledge only of primary notions and propositions. God, by contrast, has
intuitive knowledge of the entire field of possibility and existence, past, present, and
future.
The lowest and least perfect level of knowledge, which man has even in sleep and
shares with animals, consists therefore of obscure and unclear feelings and sensations,
without meaning though representative of reality. Pleasure and pain, however, and
recognizable sense qualities are clear but confused; we can recognize them and identify
them by appropriate symbols, but we cannot give their marks, since they are unana-
lyzable. Yet they represent forces and resistances in the body and in nature which we
can conceive distinctly through analysis on mechanical principles. Animals probably
share such clear but confused perceptions with men, for only such perceptions make
association possible. But distinct knowledge, being based on analysis, is characteristic
of man only, who is capable of distinct but inadequate knowledge in the empirical
sciences, but of adequate symbolic knowledge only in the sciences of abstract possi-
bility such as mathematics and logic. Because the serial events which constitute
existence are continuous and infinite, the analysis necessary to reduce them to the
simple concepts which they involve would, as we have already seen, require an infinity
of steps, and is therefore impossible for man. Hence we cannot ever have adequate
knowledge about truths offact.
Leibniz's epistemology thus supports his logic by adding the psychological dimen-
sion. Human knowledge has various levels of certainty and completeness, beginning
with the felt certainty of experienced qualities, and ending with the analytic certainty of
purely formal reasoning. But in all meaningful facts of experience between these
extremes man is committed to uncertainty, though analysis and definition may strength-
in this into high probability. Reason therefore functions on two planes in human know-
ledge, within experience to validate it, in truths of fact, and in the realm of the purely
possible, apart from concrete particulars, in truths of reason.
Upon this distinction, and the principles of method involved in it, rests Leibniz's
conception of a hierarchy of empirical sciences, each of which may proceed analytically
within its limit notions and with its appropriate symbols, but all of which are rooted,
through common laws, in a universal logical order. Truths of reason depend on the
laws of logic - identity, contradiction, and sufficient reason - in the sense that animality
and rationality are sufficient for humanity. Truths of fact are established through the
equivalence of definition and definiendum and the law of sufficient reason in its appli-
cation to temporal events - in the sense that the bite of anopheles and certain other
conditions are sufficient for malaria. Science has as its proper field the construction of
symbolic models based on the observed qualities of sense, and serving to analyze them
into the relations they imply. Such structures can be tested by their value in discovery
and prediction, which assures us that they conform, though only imperfectly and
symbolically, with the universal harmony. Leibniz's vision of the future of science was
dominated by such algorithms, or mathematical models of natural structures; he
himself set them up only in calculus, pure geometry, and a few less prominent mathe-
matical and physical fields, but the wonders of recent quasi-mathematical construc-
tions in chemistry, neurology, and genetics would have abundantly justified the faith
which impelled his curiosity in biological and chemical problems. Unlike the more
positivistic of modem theories, however, his own interpretation anchored these struc-
tures firmly in the universal harmony of being on the one hand, and in the symbolizing
individual on the other.
The inadequacy of truths of fact requires a criterion of truth less certain and more
highly specialized than that of mere possibility. Adequate analysis into compatible
primary notions and principles, directly intuited, is a perfect criterion for truths of
reason. But the intuition of sense qualities is only psychologically certain, and demon-
stration cannot be complete; hence we must be content with the 'congruence of
meanings' in the realm of time and change.
A phenomenon will be coherent when it consists of many phenomena for which a reason can
be given either in themselves or by some sufficiently simple hypothesis common to them. It is
coherent, furthermore, if it conforms to the customary nature of other phenomena which have
repeatedly occurred to us, so that the parts have the same position, order, and outcome in
relation to the phenomenon which similar phenomena have had in the past. ... The most
valid criterion is by all means consensus with the whole sequence of life, especially if others
affirm that their own phenomena are in agreement with it .... But the most powerful criterion
of the reality of phenomena, quite sufficient by itself, is success in the prediction of future
phenomena from past and present ones .... [No. 39].
The criteria of factual truth are value in prediction, coherence in the strict sense of
correspondence in structure with preceding and future experiences of similar nature,
and contribution to the wholeness of many separate parts of experience. In the latter
connection Leibniz fully recognizes the role of hypothesis and the hypothetical nature
of human knowledge offact (Nos. 18 and 32).
The virtues of Leibniz's theory of knowledge are to be found in the clarity in which
he defines the role of rational principles in establishing the validity of experience, as

opposed to Locke's psychological analysis of the genesis of experience. If Descartes

may be regarded as stressing the 'distinctification' of knowledge, Locke its 'aggre-
gation' (Grote), Leibniz may be said to have developed the Cartesian analysis into a
sharply defined methodological scale in which knowledge moves from vague quality to
sharply delineated structure, but without losing either the qualitative or the purposive
and dynamic function which is essential to ideas. For as the individual's knowledge
grows in distinctness, his valuations, too, must rise from mere egoistic feelings to the
just and socialized understanding of perfection which determines his duty. Leibniz's
realistic theory of knowledge is completed by his practical conception of man and his
idealistic metaphysics.
Two difficulties in this theory of knowledge remain to be pointed out. One is the
problem of error. In Leibniz's moral system the good man was much clearer on the
foundations of truth than on the nature of falsehood. Leibniz himself often discusses
the problem in relation to his system (Nos. 13; 35, Sec. 14; 41, I; Theodicy, Prel. Dis.,
Sec. 44; etc.). Error is the manipulation of symbols or words, for which there is no
corresponding idea. It consists of combining words, like 'the greatest of all numbers'
and 'the greatest of all circles', whose referents are incompatible. Error is non-sense,
fancy unsupported by reality, the synthesis of simple terms into an impossible notion.
But how is even such negative error possible? Leibniz's difficulty arises out of his
determinism. How can a being whose every action and passive experience follow from
the law of his individual nature, that is, from the ideas essential to his nature, set up a
combination of symbols and acts to which no idea corresponds and which is therefore
expressive of nothing? This would indeed demand a liberty of indifference. Equally
difficult is the view in the Discourse that ideas are from God, but the relations between
them - the source of error - from us. His own conception of error (and evil) should
have forced Leibniz either to set up inconsistent and incoherent ideas as real, which
would have destroyed the perfection of God, or to introduce a real indeterminism
into man. Though he suggests the latter in his exoteric writings, this is always in vio-
lence to the law ofthe individual.
The second problem concerns the role of self-experience in providing metaphysical
truth. Leibniz frequently says that it is only in reflection that we discover the true
meaning of such categories as being, identity, causality, and unity. Does such meta-
physical knowledge rest upon analogy or is it direct apprehension of the deepest level
'of man's own nature, where he is bound to God by the law of his individuality? Is
Leibniz's meaning to be understood as pointing to an external thing-in-itself analogous
to the analyzed structure of our own mind or to an internal transcendental principle
of unity or being? Is he confirming the Scholastics or anticipating the post-Kant ian
idealists? Both views can be argued from his own words, and commentators have felt
obligated to choose one interpretation or the other. But he himself regarded them as
reinforcing each other, for is not God the underlying harmony expressed in my own
inmost activities but in the external order as well, so that he may be reached, not only
by the less certain via externa, but by the less public but more direct via interna as well?
XI. SUMMAR Y: STRUCTURE AND PURPOSE
With the union of the internal analogy from consciousness and the external analogy
from the mathematical-logical structure of existence, Leibniz's metaphysics assumes
its final form, in terms of which his principles are unified and the various realms of
existence and essence harmonized.
In the first place, his principles are established and ordered in a scale of universality
corresponding to the three orders of being, the possible or essential, the creative, and
the existent. On the level of logical necessity these principles are two in number;
Leibniz regards both as self-evident, though the former rests in his religious faith.
They are the principles of perfection and of identity. The principles of plenitude and of
harmony are involved in perfection; the principle of contradiction is involved in
identity. The law of sufficient reason itself rests on the perfection of the universe and
the possibility of the analysis which is implied in identity. Since perfection implies
existence, and therefore plurality with mutual limitation, there must be a creative
process, corresponding to the middle knowledge. In this process the 'anagogical prin-
ciple' of maximal determination or the best possible necessarily follows from the
notion of a perfect world order in which the law of identity continues to be valid
throughout the limiting choices; every complete substance must still be equivalent to
the sum of its predicates. This law of the best possible has its special analogues - the
principle of maxima and minima in mathematics, of least action or the extremum in
physics, and the law of parsimony in methodology. On the level of existence, finally, the
principles of continuity and individual differentiation (the identity of indiscernibles)
follow from the law of perfection. And under temporal and spatial conditions which
we have already described, sufficient reason becomes mechanical causality, and
identity becomes equipollence in its various forms - equality in algebra, congruence
and similarity in geometry, equivalence in symbolic logic, and the conservation of
force, along with its special derivative forms, in dynamics.
Of this structure of principles only the foundation is unproved, for Leibniz succeeded
in deriving the others by the deductive process of limiting definitions. But his efforts to
establish the existence of perfection itself, in the form of the ontological argument,
never succeeded, so that existence was never completely welded to his a priori system of
principles.
The continuous scale of monads of which existence consists is now also as completely
defined as possible for human minds. All monads alike are temporal series of active
force and passive content, representative of the universe and striving toward the pur-
poses defined in the individualized law from which they proceed. In his later writings
Leibniz preferred to simplify this structure into the two functions of appetite and
perception. In the simplest or bare monads, these are without any memory or reflec-
tion, so that the harmony of the world is completely external to them and mechanical.
Soul monads 56 contain an internality of purpose because perception is accompanied
by attention and habituation and is therefore sentient. But spirit monads are possessed
of reflection and memory of a kind which enables them to think and unify the purposes
implicit in their appetites and perceptions, so that they are capable of "expressing God
rather than nature"; the purposes of God are internal to them, so that they become
moral persons, citizens of the kingdom of grace. The principle of perfection requires,
however, that no two monads be identical but that the greatest variety of value and
perfection should exist. So there is a continuous scale of monads, from the simplest to
the most complex intelligences, extending far beyond the limitations of man himself.
As the immediate source of all monads, exercising a purposive limitation of total
possibilities, God himselfmay be called a primitive monad in contrast to created ones. 57

Finally, Leibniz's combination of mechanism and purpose is now also complete.

Purpose is immanent with every monad, because its law involves its perfection, not as
existent but as essential. Since the individual laws all involve each other, the universal
harmony is but the most perfect possible integration of individual perfectibilities.
Mechanism, on the other hand, is but the phenomenal and abstract universalized
description of the relations of representation between the states of individual monads.
Contingency within nature therefore provides the basis for the anagogical problem
which occupied so great a place in Leibniz's later thinking (Nos. 50 and 51) as the
basis for a spiritual interpretation of natural phenomena. In Leibniz's thought it took
the form of an argument to a supreme cause on the basis of the maximal fitness of
existing laws of contingency. The religious application of this theory is found in the
union of the two realms of nature and of grace in every individual substance. Every
monad contributes to both realms, since every monad is part of a machine and of a
system of purposes. But only self-experiencing monads have intrinsic values to be
. achieved in harmony with others, and therefore only spirit monads dwell consciously
in the two realms. Grace is the presence of the perfect in the law or our nature, in
such a way that we consciously strive toward it. The kingdom of grace is therefore
the realm in which essence modifies existence by providing its purpose. It is in this
sense that every spirit monad expresses God rather than the world.
The kingdom of grace is the arena in which man seeks the good individually and in
community with his fellows. Even our confused feelings reflect not merely temporal
but eternal harmonies; the value which Leibniz found in luminous instinct and the
'blind' emotional impulses of the soul was largely overlooked by his followers in the
Enlightenment but was revived, along with the work in which it is most explicit, by
men who sought to found the greatest harmonies upon feeling. 58 Feelings and in-
stincts are themselves confused expressions of harmonies whose structure can be
revealed more adequately by reason. It is on this foundation that Leibniz developed
his conception of the levels of ethics and the law.
XII. ETHICS AND SOCIAL THOUGHT
The widespread impression that Leibniz's ethics and value theory are an insignificant
and uncritical aspect of his thought rests in part on the fact that his writings in these
fields have been neglected and in part on an ad hominem argument from the man's
position and temperament. One misses in Leibniz, the courtier, the disregard which
Spinoza showed for external circumstances and established opinions as well as
Spinoza's sympathetic tolerance with human motives. Yet the burden of his thought
was ethical, and value experiences, together with theoretical knowledge, are for him
the distinctively human ways of expressing the universal harmony. Unlike his scien-
tific ideas, his practical philosophy was not altered as his thought developed. Though
the selections on ethics and the philosophy of law in this volume represent several
periods in his work (Nos. 6, 43, and 58), they do not differ in any essentials, for the
very good reason that the metaphysical and psychological foundations - universal
perfection and man's relatively imperfect perception of it - were laid early.
Leibniz's theory of value has been variously described as hedonistic and perfection-
istic. It was both, of course, since pleasure and pain are the confused perception of
universal harmony or disharmony, and the confused subjective impressions of action
as well. This harmony or disharmony may be within the physical organism, it may be
in the spirit's perceptions and appetites of itself, it may be in the wider realm of
creation - grief at the state of others is of this kind, as is love - but in the realm of pure
essence there can be only harmony. Thus only the beatific vision of God is unalloyed joy.
Even the greatest harmonies may be felt confusedly, as is true in music and art. Yet it is
this feeling which determines the value. It is in this sense that Leibniz is a hedonist,
though his hedonism is 'well founded' in objective structures, whether existential or
possible. He is not only a hedonist but an egoist as well; the argument between Bossuet
and Fenelon on the existence of nonmercenary love had already been answered by him
in the negative, and he frequently referred to his opinion on this controversy (No. 44,
I and II). Feelings are merely the passive aspects of impulsions or appetites, and every
human impulse involves self-interest; it arises within the monad by its own law and
is directed toward the future good of the monad itself. Leibniz thus relates values to the
fundamental human drives as well as to the feelings, and it is in his analysis of these
motives that his exploration of the good begins. All broader and higher motives must
be compatible with this basic egoism.
Several higher interests serve to socialize our egoistic impulses and are therefore
particularly important for law. One is the desire for praise. This is an unclear feeling or
mirroring of the opinions of others, which moves men, even below the level of true
honnetete, to consider others. It reflects an imperfect kind of social harmony but in-
volves no distinct perception of it (No.6, II). A much more distinct expression of this
harmony, and therefore far more important in Leibniz's social thought, is love. "To
love is to find pleasure in the happiness of the beloved and his perfection." Love is thus
three-dimensioned - it is always egoistic, since its motive is self-pleasure, but it is
always directed toward the happiness of others (which, in turn, consists of their feeling
for their own growth in perfection) and therefore is also directed toward perfection or
God. Hence charity and piety are but aspects of the same fundamental social virtue.
Upon this analysis of human motives Leibniz builds his conception of the three
levels of justice in law. Strict law rests, as Hobbes saw, upon egoistic impulses and
demands external power to prevent men from harming each other when their self-
interests conflict. Its maxim is neminem laedere. On the level of equity, however, or of
charity in a narrow sense, no coercion from without is needed, for there is greater
clarity as to the social conditions of happiness. Its maxim is suum cuique tribuere. The
highest level,piety, is the basis of justice in honorable men themselves, for whom both
wisdom and charity flow from considerations of the universal harmony. It presupposes
the existence of God and a community of immortal minds over which he rules. Its
maxim is the golden rule, which is summed up in honeste vivere (Nos. 44 and 59).59
This is not an unqualified Platonism. For Leibniz my duty involves a plurality both
of people and of values. The harmonies which evoke my uneasiness and my impulsions
are the incomplete and imperfect ones implied in my law of individuality. Egoism is
the fundamental limit imposed upon me by my finiteness, in which I am not wholly like
any of my fellows. All value involves personal effort and personal satisfaction, even
the supreme good, the beatific vision. Leibniz repudiates the false mysticism of
'Averroists' like Valentine Weigel and Angelus Silesius, who describe this highest
value as personal cessation or a kind of death. To be is to strive. Every value is relative
to the point of view of an individual, yet values may increase in distinctness and ade-
quacy as the objective harmony they involve is conceived more adequately. Without

this harmony there would be no striving, and hence nd feeling of pleasure and pain.
This pluralism is also implicit in Leibniz's analysis of social forms. His social
thought is fundamentally medieval in important respects, since he seeks a universal
society of good men, a universal church, and a legal basis for universal justice. Follow-
ing Aristotle and Felden (No. 44, IV), he recognizes various types of societies built
about natural needs and values and upon varied principles of human relationship.
But all societies are to be measured by human happiness, and there is no indication
that Leibniz favors an 'unlimited' society on the political level - "a society which con-
cerns the whole life and the common good". Such totalitarianism he recognizes as
desirable only within the family and among understanding friends. His theory of
history too, insofar as he had one, supports this individualism; history is concerned
with the social movement toward perfection (No. 69), but the universal harmony
toward which it strives is to be expressed in the perfection, and therefore the happiness,
of the individuals of whose relations history consists.
Three particular fields of human value playa conspicuous role in Leibniz's thought.
(1) Moral values. The moral end Leibniz usually sums up in the 'public good', that
is, in the happiness or enduring pleasure of spirits in as wide a social extent as possible.
In this he is a genuine humanist, even to identifying the love of others with the love
of God himself.
The place of the other (autrui) is the true perspective point in politics as well as morals, and the
precept of Jesus Christ, to put oneself in the place of the other, serves not only the end of which
our master spoke, namely morality, but that of politics as well [Bod. LH., XXXIV, 8, fol. 28].
Duty is the compulsion of the individual by acknowledged harmonies, social and ideal;
hence it implies both pleasure and wisdom. Honestas is thus the basic personal virtue,
love the basic social, and piety the ultimate metaphysical virtue. The unity of these
Leibniz frequently affirmed. To Thomas Burnet he wrote, in an indirect appeal to
Newton to publish his theory of colors:
You know my principles, Sir, which are to prefer the public good to all other considerations,
even to glory and gold. I have no doubt that a person of the force of Mr. Newton shares my
belief. The sounder one is, the more one has this disposition, which is the great principle of the
man of honor, and even of justice and true piety, for to contribute to the public good and to
the glory of God is the same thing [1699; G., III, 261].
(2) Aesthetic value. Leibniz, as we have seen, found a clue to creation in the work of
the architect who plans the most elegant structure which his medium and site allow
(No. 51). Beauty is delight in felt or understood harmony and in the strivings which
these feelings accompany. Though his remarks on aesthetics are casual and incomplete,
Leibniz stimulated both classicists (Baumgarten) and romanticists, the former stressing
the harmonies in beauty, the latter the unclear perceptions. 60 His own tastes were of
course classical, though he seems also to have collected folklore and peasant verse and
other expressions of simple feelings and intuitions (Bod. LH., chaps. V and XXXIX).
His analysis of music reveals both interests. In music a mathematical order of physical
vibrations, perceived indistinctly, "is transmitted by our hearing and creates a sym·
pathetic echo in us, to which our animal spirits respond. This is why music is so well
adapted to move our minds, even though this main purpose is not usually noticed nor
sufficiently sought for "(No. 44, Ilr). Beauty is thus not merely feeling but impulsion
to higher harmonies, not necessarily themselves restricted to the experience of beauty.

(3) The vision o/God. Mysticism is a significant motive in Leibniz's thought (Nos. 23
and 40). Yet upon examination his attitude toward it seems one of intellectual interest
and appreciation rather than deep personal experience, for there is about him a kind of
surface flatness to which depth and intensity of feeling are foreign. Leibniz was a
lifelong student not only of various forms of religious excitement, on which he made
notes and comments and for some of which he found naturalistic explanations, but
also of the varied forms of the religious consciousness. In his later years he was sus-
pected of disregarding the public practices of religion; Hanover burghers called him
'Love-nix' (Glaube nichts).
Yet the experience of God is ingredient in his metaphysics, for the monads are
closed to external influence save from God, of whom every moment of their being is a
fulguration. There are passages in his writings expressive of an exalted piety, not
merely in their content, but in the very handwriting and the periods of his rhetoric.
The true vision of God is for him a morally compelling experience whose validity is to
be tested by its social fruits. But the nature of the vision is intuitive; it may be on the
level of unclear and confused perception, or on a higher plane, it may rise to an ade-
quate grasp of the perfection upon which well-being, our own and others', depends.
But what of disvalue? Leibniz is not insensitive to the evils of the world, but he
cannot consistently recognize any evil except that of unclear and confused perception,
that is, of narrowly egoistic impulsions based on very imperfect harmonies. His
frequent quotation of Ovid's well-known confession is an acceptance of human
imperfection.
Video meliora proboque, deteriora sequor.61
But though he is not inclined to underestimate the strength of moral evil (No. 23, II),
his philosophy gives it only an ambiguous place. One is never clear whether the realm
of grace really exists already or whether it is still to be built. Evil is feeling and being
impelled by an imperfection less than the best possible and is therefore to be overcome
within the self-consciousness of man. But whence imperfection and disharmony, why
less than the best possible or, indeed, than the perfect - these questions Leibniz, bound
to the chain of logical order, cannot answer.
XIII. THEOLOGY
One of Leibniz's early projects, the Catholic Demonstrations, was a proposal to apply
his general science and his metaphysics to a rational apology for orthodox Christianity
so distinct and adequate that it should compel assent. It came to nothing, and the
Theodicy, his published defense of God written many decades later, proved to be
neither so rigorous nor so universally convincing, though it became the basis of his
wider European influence. Both works show the centrality of theology in Leibniz's
thought. His thought was to be a rational theology, and though he used the distinction
between natural and revealed religion, he regarded both as on the same level of ade-
quate perception; God, the 'region of ideas', the great calculator, must be shown to be
the greatest of princes who reigns with perfect justice and love in the commonwealth of
grace. But, in pressing the adequacy of reason, he left for faith only the role of personal
assent and conviction, the established body of truth being beyond all possibility of

doubt. Faith needed only to follow where reason led. Thus the paradox of his theo-
logical goal; wanting to establish Christian faith, he actually helped support the extreme
rational optimism of the age which followed.
Leibniz spent much care upon theological issues which were not central to his
moral concern; conspicuous among these was the problem of Christ's presence in the
Eucharist. But central to his thought was the problem of God, his providence, and
man's relation to him. Christianity could be established as the religion of reason by
showing that it provides that inclusive structure of meaning which modern science
and moral order require for their unity. The hope of European order seemed to rest
upon this issue, and Leibniz's strongest fears were directed at tendencies which seemed
to deny either the existence of God or the substantial nature and order of creation.
Atheism and libertinism, on the one hand, and 'Averroism' and Quietism, on the other
- these were the two modern 'sects of naturalism' (G., VII, 333-34) which his system
was to overcome. Thus the problems of his theology are, in the first place, the nature
of God and his providence, the freedom of man, and, as its culmination, the realm
of grace, that ideal social order in which man exercises his freedom as subject and son
of God.
Leibniz's first task was to prove the existence of God. According to the plan of
1668-69, the first part of his Catholic Demonstrations was entirely concerned with this
problem. His arguments were at once both a priori and a posteriori, though he was
compelled to cling to the former with unusual persistence because the entire structure
of his system rests on the reality of perfection. Unless the perfect being can be esta-
blished by the method of analysis, the entire conception of an analytic logic and a
metaphysics of harmony is unfounded.
(1) The first formulation of the argument for God, however, was a posteriori. This
was the argument in the Confession of Nature against Atheists and the Catholic Demon-
strations (No.5, I), a special case of the cosmological proof resting on Descartes's
theory of matter. Assuming that bodies are real, there is no explanation within them-
selves of motion, figure, and cohesion. Since these depend upon active principles,
their origin must, according to the principle of sufficient reason, be mental, and the
harmony of the corporeal system demands that this mind be one.
The cosmological argument remained Leibniz's most enduring one, though it was
altered as his conception of the physical world changed. In its mature form it depends
upon the distinction between existence and possibility and upon the application of the
principle of sufficient reason to the existing order as a whole (No. 51). Granting that
the existing world is a contingent system of causes, in both the immanent sense within
each monad and the external functional sense between monads, it is still particular
world, and we must grant that there might have been worlds organized on different
systems of laws. Causal explanations within nature never escape contingency and
therefore sti11leave unanswered the question, 'Why this world rather than another?' or,
in the special case of man, 'Die! Cur hie?' To answer this question is to be driven
beyond 'thisness' to the will of God as an explanation, since this question necessarily
involves a principle of selection.
Leibniz's contemporaries were not inclined to deny. the validity of this question and
its answer. Newton had set up virtually the same argument, though based upon a
different view of physical things, in the famous Scholium at the close of his Principia.
It remained for a later, more positivistic era, to challenge the entire principle of reason
on which it rested, and to deny the metaphysical relevance of the fact that the universe
is as it is and might have been otherwise.
(2) With the introduction of a principle of selection, however, the cosmological
argument becomes teleological. The anagogical principle to which Leibniz appeals
(No. 50) is an effort to reason to the reality of perfect harmony from the limited
perfection and interdependence of finite things. The argument has a cosmological and a
humanistic part. The principle of the extremum, which Leibniz demonstrated in the
case of the laws of dioptrics, is, as we have seen, of continuing importance and use in
physics. Yet as a mathematical principle it implies at most that the natural order is a
unique determination of possibility, as every integral equation is a uniquely determined
case of a family of infinite members, with an arbitrary parameter, based on the same
differential equation. 62 Only Leibniz's Platonism permitted that identification of
goodness with logical determinateness which transformed his discovery into an
argument for God.
Applied to man and his purposes, however, the same reasoning becomes a value
argument. Leibniz thought of it as one from the beginning. Chapter V of the Catholic
Demonstrations, Part I, was to contain "a demonstration of infinite probability, or of
moral certainty, that the beauty of the world arises from mind". In brief, man's
value experience, aesthetic, moral, social, and religious, involves harmonies greater
than himself, though the power of achieving them is in part his own. Against Male-
branche he maintained that a finite spirit could perceive infinity, however imperfectly.
This, he felt, was a particularly compelling argument in the realm of truth, the binder
of the values. But the human quest for greater perfection in law, morality, art, science,
and religion implies an order of perfection from which come both norms and fulfilment.
Insofar as this argument regards God as sufficient reason for the absolute in our value
experience, it is as valid as the cosmological, and no more so, since both involve the
extension of the principle of sufficient reason from the descriptive and contingent to the
possible and absolute. Yet the value argument possesses an empirical plausibility which
the more general form of the teleological argument lacks. This is but one instance of
many in which the psychological analogy, from the nature of man's consciousness to
metaphysical principles, has a force which the mathematical analogy in Leibniz lacks,
since the psychological evidence already, following Descartes's famous maxim, implies
existence, and the leap from possibility to existence, the pitfall of all rationalism, is
thus unnecessary. But the argument, of course, has its own empirical difficulty, the
problem of evil. Sin is, as Russell points out, merely materia prima and the limited
actions arising out of this source of confusion (No. 29). Within this inadequate a
priori conception of evil, Leibniz offers the various explanations of badness that have
been used in every theodicy which has appeared since - the appeal to ignorance, to the
intrinsic goods involved in many apparent evils, to the possibility of higher spirits
than man, to the necessity for restricting the good of the individual in the best society,
to immortality and its assurance of continued growth toward perfection. Evil, being
merely the religious term for the finiteness implied in existence, time, and plurality,
thus becomes virtually a datum in the teleological argument.
(3) Intimately involved in the preceding arguments for God's existence is that from
the nature of eternal truths. Leibniz is, as we have seen, a conceptualist; truth involves
intellect and therefore mind. Many contemporary thinkers wiII accept Leibniz's opinion
that human thought implies the objective subsistence of logical relations but will deny

their mental nature. Bertrand Russell, in particular, to whom the reader may be
referred for a critical account of Leibniz's arguments, calls this one 'scandalous' be-
cause it confuses God's knowledge with the truths which he knows and implies ulti-
mately that God's existence rests upon his own understanding. 63 But Russell's
criticism is not itself without a trace of scandal, for nowhere else is he so substantial-
istic in his own thought, and nowhere else does he thus misinterpret Leibniz's theory
of mind and ideas. Leibniz's view of mind, whether God's or man's, is not substantive
in the Cartesian sense. Mind is ideas operating; it is itself a law which abides through a
series of 'values' or events. God is not a knower who transcends his ideas and works
according to them; here Leibniz's criticism of Descartes's voluntarism is decisive. But
God, being perfect, must have self-awareness, and in this sense it may actually be said
that God's existence does depend on his knowledge of the ideas. The significant ques-
tion is not whether the eternal truths involve God in this sense but whether they in-
volve a doctrine of creation and providence and the God which these imply.
(4) But all these arguments are a posteriori and do not achieve the certainty which
Leibniz demanded for this foundation of his system. They become conclusive only
with the ontological argument, since they all involve the existence of harmonious ideas
or perfection. Even before his stay in Paris, Leibniz was influenced by his study of
Descartes, and a little later, of Spinoza, to wrestle with this proof (Nos. 7, I; 13; 14;
and 16) Descartes proved that if the idea of a most perfect being is possible, it exists.
But he did not prove that 'the most perfect being' is a possible idea; his definition
may be purely verbal, as are those of such inconsistent pseudo-notions as the greatest
number and the largest circle. How establish the possibility of a most perfect being?
The closest Leibniz comes to an answer is his demonstration, to Spinoza in 1676, that
perfect attributes must be compatible, a demonstration which he achieves only by
defining perfections from the start as simple notions. But this begs the entire argument,
since logical simplicity is relative; and the divine perfections cannot so easily be
identified with the primary concepts and principles of my thought. 64 A more success-
ful proof is never reached, and though Leibniz later repeats his criticism of Descartes
and restates the argument, it is always equivalent to the assertion that perfection
exists and that the rest of his principles follow from it.
With Leibniz's failure at this point, his logic and his metaphysics fall apart, and the
latter remains, as he frequently admits, a hypothetical structure. Thus his last philo-
sophical summaries, the Principles 0/ Nature and 0/ Grace and the Monadology, reason
from the nature of individuals and their interdependence to the universal harmony,
and thus by the psychological analogy to God. The ultimate pattern of Leibniz's
argument must therefore be considered as a posteriori.
But when atheists are refuted, the problem of grace yet remains, and this involves
the question of human freedom. Leibniz is deeply concerned with preserving the
sovereignty of God without destroying a moral distinction between good men, whom
he conceives as men of honor, and bad men or moral libertines. Man's will must enter
into the efficacy of grace, and it must be his will and not God's. Yet to deny the divine
source of all perfections, and the divine foreknowledge of all temporal events, is itself
atheism. Moreover, Leibniz was always more concerned for orderly than for free
living. "The highest perfection of man consists not merely in that he acts freely but
still more in that he acts with reason; or rather, the two are the same thing" (No. 42,
I, Sec. 37). Leibniz therefore sees little difficulty in his theory of the law of the individual
series, which is the true individual substance from which man's will flows-determined,
indeed, but self-determined. There is no freedom of indifference or indeterminacy; all
essence is logically determined, all existence, through the created individual laws. The
element of probability which enters into human actions is of the same kind as that which
enters into mechanical processes elsewhere in nature; ultimately both could be reduced,
by an omniscient being, to the necessity by which different series of events follow
from their individual laws and represent each other.
Yet Leibniz is impressed, on the other hand, by the urgency of human choice and
believes that the notion of the individual law does preserve for man a real freedom.
The entire force of a monad's being, both its acts and the passive content of its expe-
rience, arise from its own nature; its dependence on the rest of creation is secondary
and phenomenal, the realm of scientific description and generalization. Appetite and
perception, becoming will and intellect in man and grasping the nature of God himself,
are man's own. Practically, he must act as ifhis past is determined but his future not. The
power is within himself in the law of his nature, though his attainments are as broad as
the universe itself. It is in this sense, Leibniz holds, that God may be said to incline rather
than to necessitate, though inclination is never blocked save by a stronger inclination.
This is quibbling, and we must choose between the empirical Leibniz, interested in
human experiences of truth and value, and the theological Leibniz interested in an
a priori glorification of God. Yet it is quibbling that has been peculiarly convincing in
the philosophical tradition, for the alternative is for many thinkers the abandonment
of metaphysical order.
The crown of Leibniz's theological thinking is found, however, in his account of the
commonwealth of spirits, whose monarch is God, related to his subjects not merely as
a king but as a father to his children. Here Leibniz's beliefs reach their emotional and
moral climax. The kingdom of grace is the unfailing conclusion to every finished
exposition of his thought; it is the bond of reference between his system and the ills of
Europe. It gives an overreaching purpose to the realm of nature 6S, for man is the com-
plex individual in whom the two realms are consciously united. It implies moral free-
dom on the part of its subjects, through deliberate and voluntary obedience to the
order of law. It is at once the highest goal of man's efforts and the highest achievement
of God's creation. Leibniz believes that it can be both, since man's moral growth
follows God's creative plan, and man is so constituted by nature as to be fulfilled in the
law of the kingdom, which is love.
Both the value of human life and the glory of God's kingdom are infinitely enhanced
by immortality. Leibniz has two arguments for it: granting the existence of perfection,
it solves the problem of evil; and the nature of individual substance demands it. Every
monad exists by virtue of its own law and its own power; since this cannot be inter-
fered with from without, it cannot be destroyed - save by the intervention of God.
That this means a repetition or continuation, in the case of man, of reflection, con-
scious memory, and purpose is Leibniz's faith, rooted in the moral requirements of a
divine justice. Monads may continue in a greatly restricted state; this happens in the
case of death. But soul and spirit monads always involve a materia prima and therefore
a body, however reduced in complexity, of which this is the reflection. The laws of this
body may involve the grounds of renewed awareness and memory. Immortality, not
merely of the spirit but of the organism, is therefore the highest perfection of the
unified kingdoms of nature and of grace.

XIV. LEIBNIZ'S CONSISTENCY AND INFLUENCE
The outstanding insecurities and strains in Leibniz's philosophical structure have been
pointed out in the course of our exposition. But like other parts of the human adven-
ture, philosophy advances by its inconsistencies; reculer pour mieux sauter - to step
back in order the better to leap forward - was for Leibniz himself the rule of historical
progress. We may stop briefly to consider some of the permanent values in the im-
posing and intricate pattern of his ideas.
It was characteristic of his mode of philosophizing, and of his conception of error
as well, that he rarely found falsehood in his own ideas and not much oftener in those
of his adversaries. Usually he saw only incompleteness which was to be remedied by
further, more adequate analysis. And in spite of shifts of emphasis from logic to
physics and from universal to individual, it must be admitted that in the main his
thought is a progressive unfolding of the notions involved in his particular perspective
on the world, the law of his own intellectual nature, from the beginning.
Yet the ambiguities, the gaps, and the contradictions are there, as we have seen.
No philosopher was more eager to subject his views to criticism (though he rarely
changed them as a result); yet debate never fully cleared up the ambiguities in his
conception of simple ideas, primary matter, the nature of corporeal beings, the rela-
tion between mind and body, man's freedom. The most conspicuous gap is the missing
cornerstone - his failure to prove the existence of perfection.
The result of this is that as an a priori structure, his rationalism falls short of rigo-
rous demonstration. And this is just where he left it himself, though he never explicitly
gave up the hope of establishing his principles adequately through the ontological
argument.
But perhaps this failure in some ways merely makes clearer the value of the ration-
alistic mode of thought for our own time. For the result is a shift of emphasis from the
eternal as a starting-point for philosophy to the use of reason in discovering and inter-
preting the temporal order of existence itself. The close relation between reason and
perception is the clue to the power of Leibniz's method. It is true that his arguments
rest on postulates that are unproved, except insofar as they are tested by their cohe-
rence and their empirical adequacy. All the more then do they demonstrate the struc-
ture of human understanding. Leibniz's successful application of rational principles to
contingent and natural events is one of the great achievements of modern philosophy,
and his rationalism remains valid as an exploration of the principles involved in the
possibility of science and morality itself, as an exposition of the method by which
experience is organized, verified, and corrected through analysis and synthesis. In this
sense the rationalism of Leibniz remains a permanent supplement and corrective to
Locke's empiricism.
The other failures in Leibniz's thought are closely related to this underlying one. Thus
his theory that logic and reality are completely commensurate must be surrendered,
not merely because his own conception of the proposition was too restricted to
serve as a logical net within which to capture existence, change, plurality, and freedom,
but because reality is prior to and deeper than logic. It imposes itself on logic rather
than the reverse. And this, again, leads to a shift from the effort to supply rigid logical
limits to being, to the logical challenge inherent in the complexities and infinitely
varying qualities of existence. There is no part of being to which the selective stripping
and labeling of logic cannot be made to apply, and its skeleton may ever thus be laid
bare. But the logic that does so must follow rather than lead and copy rather than
create. In his logical calculus and universal characteristic, Leibniz began to explore the
traits of a logic which can do this.
Though Leibniz achieved a genuine pluralism in existence through his conception of
individual laws, it is not of a kind that supports the individualism even of the hono-
rable man, the man of good will. For here too he never loosens the reins with which an
intellectualistic God holds all existence in his grasp. Time and finitude are only necessa-
ry consequences of the greatest possible perfection. Here, again, the strong pluralistic
and temporalistic interests of Leibniz which gradually come to the fore against this
deterministic background may be emphasized. He was too good a historian and
scientist not to give full attention to the principles of differentiation and change or to
neglect the tools which his mathematics offered for measuring it. Much of his thinking
is done from the individual outward, and he was a pioneer in exploring the secret parts
and unplumbed depths of man's soul.
Again, Leibniz had no explanation, except the enduring Augustinian one, of the
source of limitation, opposition, and resistance within the universal harmony. There
is logical profundity, but great obscurity as well, in the sorites involved in creation -
perfection implies plurality, plurality implies simultaneity and succession, time and
space are the forms of activity and passivity and therefore involve opposition. But
ultimately he can only point to the empirical fact; bodies do collide, impulses are
opposed to each other, psychological and social forces do clash. Harmony is only
partly a fact, and in part an ideal, a norm, in human experience. The realm of the
possible and potential may indeed be a real realm, but the two worlds of essence and
existence, and the two levels of truth built upon them, cannot be bridged from the top
down but only imperfectly from the experience of the existent outward.
Leibniz's own symbolic logic, finally, and his ideal of science require a conception
of freedom which he does not accept. It lies within the power of the thinker to choose
his own characters and signs; the man in error combines signs for which there are no
corresponding ideas. And what is true of error is by that very fact true of evil as well.
Man's free choice implies that possibility is broader than existence, as Leibniz insisted.
But it follows directly that possibility cannot itself contain the principles which
determine existence.
Thus there appears a basic alternative, a shift in viewpoint, which the student who
wishes to learn from Leibniz must face. His age and his own genius confirmed the
logician and mathematician in him, while his devotion to fact pushed him to acknow-
ledge the unclear, the indistinct, and the relative, to a point far beyond the superficial
clarities and rationalizations of the age which followed him. One must choose between
the Leibniz who recognizes the symbolic and analogical nature of human thought but
seeks the universal logical and moral norms which make it possible and the Leibniz
who would analyze possibility and find existence hidden within it. The choice is between
his two great analogies - mathematical relationships or psychological continuity
within a phenomenally presented environment. It is the choice of beginning either
from the pure logic of analysis and failing to build a metaphysics or from the aware-
ness of the human situation but with a willingness to proceed beyond phenomena to
the principles on which they may be 'well founded'. To one student at least, it is the
latter Leibniz, who begins with human problems and human symbols but retains the

powerful tools of reason not only in mathematics and logic but in life, without sacri-
iicing the adventure of human creativeness, who seems to offer the more fruitful
philosophical answers.
The fertility of Leibniz's ideas is revealed in later thought. His influence, though not
the acuteness of his analyses, now seems to have outlived and outreached Kant's. A
school of followers established the principles of his mathematics and opened the way
to the triumphs of modern theoretical mechanics. Even before his death another group
of younger men professed discipleship in philosophy. Himself opposed to the sectarian
attitude, he aroused strong partisanship in both fields. Unfortunately it was his
speculative writings that immediately survived him, many of his scientific and logical
works remaining buried in the library at Hanover. Along with Bayle's Dictionary and
Locke's Essay, the Theodicy was a standard item in the libraries of 18th-century
philosophical dilettantes. The mood of the Theodicy survived Voltaire's ridicule and,
sacrificing depth as it achieved popularity, lived until the pessimism movement of the
19th century; even Darwin could not help reflecting it.
The deeper influence of Leibniz's thought reached in other directions, however.
Hume accepted his emphasis upon analysis in the spirit of a skeptic, tearing apart
matters of fact from ideas of relations, and also moral purpose from logical possibility.
Under the influence of Christian Wolff, on the other hand, a rationalized and materia-
lized Leibnizianism reached the academic halls which he himself had repudiated -
systematized into a school philosophy by the sacrifice of many of its profundities such
as the relativity of time and space, the organic and purely logico-dynamic nature of the
monads, and all elements of inadequacy in perception. Wolff thus attempted the
reconciliation of Leibniz and Newton on the latter's terms - a blunder which history
has corrected. But Wolff also preserved the Leibnizian interest in possibility and
aided Kant in finding his essential answers to the question of the possibility of judg-
ments of existence. Accepting the synthetic nature of such judgments as ultimate, not
merely for us but in principle, Kant explains them through the creative role of the
ultimate principles of meaning, now categories with the power of constituting experi-
ence, not merely analyzing and understanding it. For Kant, as for Leibniz, space and
time are the conditions in terms of which the categories of possible experience are
schematized into the principles of empirical science. For him, as for Leibniz, will is
practical reason, and freedom is determination by the rational nature. His Critique
0/ Judgment is, as Cassirer has pointed out, an exploration of the implications of har-
mony in nature; and God, freedom, and immortality remain for him fundamentalideas
in the realm of possibility and of practical value. Kant's paralogisms and antinomies
are Leibniz's attempted demonstrations (in the case of God) and infinite analyses (in the
case of cosmology), seen through the analytic eyes of Hume. Thus Hegel, though
aware of a theory of concreteness different from Leibniz's, is able to return from Kant
to his great predecessor's theory that existence is the maximum determination of the
possible, and his principle that predicates are included in their subjects - provided
that the subjects are concrete in Kant's organic sense.
Leibniz's theory that feelings and instincts too reflect universal harmonies exerted an
influence beyond the Enlightenment and his own distrust of enthusiasm. The appear-
ance of the New Essays in 1765 gave encouragement to the Romantic reaction against
mere intellect and to a deepened classicism as well, with the result that Goethe's
deep poetic faith in man's intuition, and his cosmic dynamism and monadism, but also
Hegel's rational synthesis of the various cultural values of romanticism and mysticism,
appear as variants of the earlier thinker's views. In a more naturalistic period Herbart
and Wundt (not to mention James) adopt his dynamic psychology, while Schopenhauer
revives his theory of unconscious perceptions with biological emphasis. Toward the
end of the century vitalism reappears in biology, and the revolution in physics offers
both empirical and theoretical evidence for Leibniz's dynamism and relatiVIsm.
Today most of these issues and convictions are still alive. Differences in viewpoint
are still sharp. Schools are still flourishing. But there is again a strong impatience with
philosophical sectarianism, and the spirit of Leibniz's quest for a philosophia perennis
is more significant, perhaps, than his particular theories. In the combined attack upon
common intellectual problems, there are aspects of his thought which once more may
serve as rallying points for new and more advanced work. A few may be noted.
(1) Leibniz's conviction that there are great human values in scientific discovery
(if moral and social safeguards are maintained) and that the power of science lies in
organized, co-operative research has seen triumphs in our days which are enormous
beyond anything he imagined. But the problem, not merely of a philosophy of science,
but of a philosophy, theoretical and practical, methodological and metaphysical,
adequate to organize the scientific enterprise within an acceptable social and cultural
order, still remains.
(2) His vision of a general science of characters and operations is still alive, as are
his own projects in the field - the construction of a universal calculus, a universal
language, and a universal encyclopedia. His thought may well suggest that such a
science may be compatible, not with a linguistic positivism alone, but with a metaphys-
ics of universals and persons.
The belief that analogy will serve as a method to reveal isomorphisms underlying a
hierarchy of sciences is a related ideal that still defines directions for scientific advance.
And the algorithms and models whose value he predicted in the various fields of human
creativity are now finding application, as he foresaw, in education as well as in pre-
diction and creation, and in the arts as well as the sciences and technology.
(3) In metaphysics Leibniz's most fruitful contribution has been his ordered dyna-
mism, for it stimulated the great modern revolutions in physics, biology, and psycho-
logy as well as in philosophy. Time once more succeeded space as the frame for exist-
ence, and substance was redefined in terms of structure and function, so that process
remained amenable to mathematical analysis. Directly implied in this shift, too, was
the new concept of organism, involving a plurality of processes reflecting a basic
harmony of dependent parts. His analysis of possibilities in existence is in the spirit of
neorealism, yet his epistemology is a mode of critical realism. It is not to be wondered at
that the metaphysical syntheses which best respond to the scientific and moral interests
of our own times, whose problems parallel in such complex forms those of the 17th
century, should return to this pattern. Thus Peirce, who knew Leibniz better than any
other American of his time, returns to his logic and reinterprets his basic categories -
existence, possibility, and harmony - as chance, logic, and love, breaking the great
chain of being and releasing the free forces of existence. Whitehead too has given
expression to the basic Platonism and dynamism which moved Leibniz, with results
offering striking analogies as well as instructive differences from the earlier thinker's
conclusions. An empiricism more concerned with the objective implications of reason,
an existentialism with greater faith in logic (if this is not a contradiction in terms),

a personalism more intent upon scientific analysis - these and others we may still
learn from Leibniz. In spite of deep differences, a pattern of thought may thus be
affirmed which stresses the organic unity and common relations of all being on the
one hand, yet tries to do justice to freedom and purpose, fact and value. This would be
the form of modern Leibnizianism.
Finally, Leibniz's fundamental humanism, his concern for moral and cultural ends
to be attained in a social environment of language, law, technology, and religion,
supports the needed moral solutions for the problems of our warlike century. An
organization of United Nations (at least in the European sphere) and an age of justice
to be made effective through the common purposes of men of good will were not
beyond the vision of Leibniz's age. But its choices were wrong, and the increase of
evils which resulted defines the crisis of our own years. Good will still requires, not
merely warm feelings, but both individual self-determination to the good and the
perception of possible harmonies that are universal. And to correct our inadequate
perceptions and build these harmonies in actu demands the perfection of common
language, common law, and a common faith.
REFERENCES
1 According to the Gregorian calendar, which was not yet in effect in Leipzig when he was
born but which had long been used in Roman Catholic countries. His birthdate is therefore
often given as 10 days earlier, June 21.
2 The Latin motto is: "With every lost hour, a part of life perishes"; the German, "Deeds
make men."
3 Leibniz's papers contain suggestions for improving the speed and comfort of travel; the
notorious alchemist Johann Joachim Becher, inventor of the phlogiston theory, sought to
discredit him by the charge that he proposed a coach which should travel from Hanover to
Amsterdam in 6 hours. Leibniz also projected plans for improving the mails, bookkeeping,
currency and exchange, statistics, and other tools of economic life.
4 This failure Leibniz traces back to the Council of Constance in 1414-18. For the Council of
Trent he had so much respect that he used its decisions as definitive (with some private inter-
pretations; cf. No. 28) for his own theological writing.
5 This term, so common in the literature of the 17th century, is based on the Stoic virtue of
honestas, which we translate 'honor' for want of a better word. The reader should be warned,
however, that the translation, though appropriate for 17th-century usage, does not fit the
Stoic sense itself and that 'honor' here is used to designate inward virtue and quality of
character, not a reputation.
To the feared revolution Leibniz alludes in his earliest writings, especially those against
atheism, as well as in his later ones. See the New Essays, IV, 16,4 (G., V, 444).
6 La crise de la conscience europeenne, 1680-1715, Boivin, Paris, 1935.
7 Bedenken welcher Gestalt Securitas publica interna et externa und Status praesens jetzigen
Umstiinden nach auffesten Fuss zu stellen (Klopp, I, 193-315).
8 As a basis for this reform Althus had proposed the logic of Peter Ramus.
9 In his Observations sur Ie projet d'une paix perpetuelle (of the Abbe de Saint Pierre) Leibniz,
repeating the introduction to his Tractatus de jure suprematus (1677), outlines his plan for a
confederation of Christian nations in Europe, united under a church and an international
council or senate.
10 The proposed Elements of Natural Law were to open with a criticism of Hugo Grotius, to
whom Leibniz owed his emphasis upon the law of nature but with whose efforts to find a basis
for this law independent of religion he disagreed from the first.
11 The reader interested in the details and issues of the bitter dispute about priority and plagia-
rism in the discovery of the calculus should consult C. B. Boyer, The Concepts o/the Calculus,
Columbia University Press, New York, 1939, pp. 187ff.; M. Cantor, Vorlesungen iiber Ge-
schichte der Mathematik, 2d ed., Vol. III, chap. LXXXIX; J. M. Child, The Early Mathemati-
cal Manuscripts 0/ Leibniz, Chicago 1920; A. de Morgan, Essays on the Life and Work 0/
Newton, Chicago 1914; and J. E. Hofmann, Leibniz' mathematische Studien in Paris, De Gruy-
ter, Berlin, 1948. It is now well established that Newton and Leibniz made their studies inde-
pendently, beyond suggestions and efforts to solve the problem which both might have found
in Barrow, Pascal, and a host of others. Hofmann in particular points out the responsibility
which Leibniz had in making the charges possible, while De Morgan criticizes Newton and the
Royal Society. The symbols and terms still used are Leibniz's.
12 Bertrand Russell has once more repeated his charge (A History 0/ Western Philosophy, chap.
XI), easily refuted by the facts, that Leibniz himself suppressed publication of his logical and
metaphysical analyses out of a concern for personal advancement. Such an interpretation
disregards the wide range of Leibniz's interests, his actual publication, and his efforts to
prepare for and to secure publication. His problem was rather the lack of readers who grasped
the more technical parts of his thought.
A recent application of a mathematical discovery of Leibniz is the use of the binary number
system in the construction of the large electronic computer at the Institute of Advanced
Study, Princeton, under the direction of John von Neumann. It deserves comment that this
numerical system, using only the numbers 1 and 0, was developed by Leibniz not only for its
practical usefulness in computation but for its symbolic theological significance as 'the image
of creation', but it serves this modem project in a most utilitarian sense, saving about two-
thirds of the tubes and components needed for the decimal system.
13 Louis Daville, Leibniz historien, Paris 1909. See also W. Conze, Leibniz als Historiker, Berlin
1951.
14 In a plan for his encyclopedia, drawn up in 1679, Leibniz includes in his classification of the
sciences "Geopolitics, or concerning the state of our earth in relation to mankind, which
includes all history and political geography" (Cout. OF., p. 40).
15 Couto OF., pp. 5, 3-4. Pacidius was a pen name of Leibniz; Theophilus was frequently the
exponent of his views in his dialogues. Cf. No. 23 and the New Essays.
16 A note on passive obedience is significant enough in relation to the political strains of the
time to be reproduced. To the younger Baron von Boineburg he wrote in 1695: "As for the
matter you further touch upon, Sir, the great question of the power of sovereigns and the
obedience which their peoples owe them, I usually say that it would be good for the princes to
be persuaded that their people have the right to resist them, and for the people, on the other
hand, to be persuaded of passive obedience. However I am quite of the opinion of Grotius,
that one ought regularly to obey, the evil of revolution being greater beyond comparison than
the evils which cause it. Yet I recognize that a prince can go to such excess, and place the well-
being of the state in such danger, that the obligation to endure ceases. This is most rare, how-
ever, and the theologian who authorizes violence under this pretext should take care against ex-
cess; excess being infinitely more dangerous than deficiency" (Guh. L., II, Anmerkungen, p. 30).
17 "It is in his limitation that the master reveals himself."
18 Leibniz describes his reading habits to Foucher in 1675 (No. 11).
19 In sending the Principles o/Nature and o/Grace to Remond (No. 66) -he had already given
a copy to Prince Eugene of Savoy, the great personification of honnetete - he wrote: "I have
hoped that taken together with what I have published in the journals of Leipzig, Paris, and
Holland, this little paper will contribute to the better understanding of my thoughts. In the
Leipzig journal I have rather adapted myself to the language of the Schools, in the others more
to the style of the Cartesians. In this last piece I try to express myself in a way that can be under-
stood by those who are not accustomed to either of these styles."
20 A critical task should be done on the papers of Leibniz, which must be postponed until
they have appeared in a critical edition. This might be called a form-critical analysis of his
writings. For the purpose of understanding the present selection, the following classifications
are important. (1) Classification according to language. For instance, Leibniz thought of the
Latin translation of the Theodicy as one which should contain more scholarly and exact
distinctions than the French original. (2) Classification according to style, which is affected
both by periods in time and by the purpose of the work. Leibniz's early works are often
flowery, suffuse, and overweighted with ornament; the progress toward the clarity of phrase
and cadence in the Monadology (1714) is by no means continuous. To the courtly, scholarly,
and popular styles should be added the exalted language of many religious writings, reflected
not merely in the length and rhythm of the periods but in the handwriting itself. (3) Classi-
fication according to stage of completion. Though completion is largely an unachieved ideal for
Leibniz, there are definite stages in the progress. First come scraps of notations and reading
notes. The first drafts are usually written on the left half of each page, with the right half
reserved for later revisions and additions, which are sometimes more extensive than the first
draft itself. Several revisions may then be recopied, often by secretaries, before a copy is
ready for circulation or publication.
21 Disregarding omissions in Bodemann's catalogues, the Hanover library contains over
15000 letters, written in correspondence with 1063 different persons.
22 It is true that Herrenhausen may never have had a labyrinth until the reconstruction of
recent years, but a plan from the period of John Frederick shows one. Leibniz owes the use
of the figure in philosophy to Libertus Fromond, Labyrinthus de compositione continui (1631).
Fromond (1587-1653) was friend and editor of Jansen.
23 Leibniz was, however, inclined to interpret this principle in a nominalistic rather than a
Scotist sense, his early dissertation De principio individui rejecting the Scotist principle of
haecceitas in favor of the view that "every individual is individuated in its entire being" (G.,
IV, 18-19,23-24). But in his later thought individuation occurs in the individual concept or
law, and his position may therefore be considered a modern version of the Scotist one. See
also p. 120, n. 17.
24 "When God calculates and carries out his thoughts, the world is made" (No. 17).
25 The sources of this principle are in Aristotle's Analyticapost., A, iv; De inter., 17, a; Cat., 1,
a; etc. It was current in Leibniz's day, and Arnauld and Nicole used it as the test of axioms in
the Port Royal Logic (The Art o/Thinking, Part IV, chap. VI). A criticism of Leibniz's faulty
extension of Aristotle's principle to substance is to be found in H. W. B. Joseph, Lectures on
the Philosophy 0/ Leibniz, pp. 85-87.
26 For Leibniz's use of this term see his correspondence with Des Bosses (No. 63).
27 "Whenever anything exercises its virtue or power, that is to say, when it acts, it improves
and enlarges itself in proportion to its action" (No. 35, Sec. 15).
28 Leibniz seems not to have known the part played by Nicole in the authorship of the Art de
penser until 1697, when Des BiIIettes told him of the collaboration of Arnauld and Nicole
(G., VII, 457-58).
29 Leibniz frequently insists that we may use principles, like some of the geometric axioms of
Euclid, with moral and practical certainty, without being able to demonstrate them from more
general principles.
30 But Leibniz also recognized that, in particular truths of fact, this is true only 'virtually' or
implicitly, in the sense that subject and predicate can always be found to contain some simpler
concept along with differentia which distinguish them. This is true of particular affirmative
propositions. See, for example, No. 26.
31 On the general science see Cout. L., chap. VI, and H. Scholz, 'Leibniz und die mathematische
Grundlagenforschung', Jahresbericht der deutschen Mathematiker Vereinigung 52 (1942) 217-44.
32 See the works by Kabitz and Mahnke in the Bibliography.
33 See n. 25 above.
34 On the Scholastic doctrine of suppositum see p. 1 19, n. I I.
35 The doctrine of the 'middle knowledge' of God, devised by the Jesuit Luis Molina (De
liberi arbitrii concordia cum gratiae donis divina praescientia, praedestinatione, et reprobatione
[1588] to solve the problem of human freedom and divine omniscience, was criticized by
Leibniz in the Theodicy, Part I, Secs. 39-49. But he sometimes appropriated the term for his
own theory of God's will as determining the optimum or the best possible (cf. No. 29; Cout.
OF., pp. 22, 25-27, etc.).
36 The principle of the extremum or the optimum has had a long history since the classic
debate between Maupertuis and Konig in the Prussian Academy in 1747. Mach ruled it out of
physical considerations in his Science of Mechanics, 5th ed., Chicago 1942, pp.451-52, but
in recent years it has reappeared as a principle of interpretation. W. R. Hamilton formulated
it for classical mechanics in 1834; Helmholtz for electrodynamics in 1892; Hilbert related it to
relativity theory in 1915 and 1917; and it has since appeared in most discussions of modem
physical theory. Cf. Max Planck, Physikalische Rundblicke, Leipzig 1922, pp. 103ff.; Scholz,
op. cit., pp. 227ff.; W. Dampier, A History of Science and Its Relations with Philosophy and
Religion, New York 1932, pp. 487-88.
37 Leibniz's example here is a striking anticipation of the illustration used by G. E. Moore in
the modem debate on the internality of relations (Philosophical Studies, pp. 277, 290).
38 These two problems involved the essentials for the differential and the integral calculus,
respectively. The integral sign first appeared in Leibniz's papers on October 29, 1675; the
differential 13 days later.
39 The historical beginnings of the mathematical study of probability are discussed in the
correspondence with Bourguet and elsewhere (No. 69, letter of March 22, 1714). Leibniz was
particularly interested in games as an expression of the free inventive spirit under regulated
conditions and contributed an article to the first volume of papers of the Prussian Academy
on the scientific study of games (Miscellanea Berolinensia, Part I, No.3). For a modem
development and application of the theory of games in the spirit of Leibniz see Von Neumann
and Morgenstern, Theory of Games and Economic Behavior, Princeton, N.J., 1944. The
authors apply two Leibnizian principles: the combinatorial principle, with its functional
assumptions, and the principle of the optimum.
40 See D. Mahnke, 'Die Entstehung des Funktionsbegriffes', Kantstudien 31 (1926) 426-28.
For a metaphysical use of the analogy from mathematics see the last note on Foucher's criti-
cism of Des Gabets (No. 11, IO; the second reply to Bayle, 1702 (No. 60); to Remond, Feb-
ruary 11, 1715 (No. 68); etc.
41 Leibniz seems to have regarded Berkeley's SUbjectivism as paradoxical and a bid for atten-
tion, in his one mention of him in his correspondence (to Des Bosses; No. 61, letter of March
15, 1715). Malebranche's phenomenalism he criticized because of its denial of action to the
physical world (No. 64).
42 Leibniz's physical analyses were completed at a time (1690-99) when he was particularly
concerned to refute the error of occasionalists and pantheists in ascribing all power and action
in nature to God alone (No. 53).
43 In No. 46, II, Leibniz uses the figure of a moving ship with its passengers completely in-
closed, to illustrate his theory of the relativity of motion - the prototype of many more recent
popular expositions of the special theory of relativity.
44 E. Rosier, 'Leibniz und das Vinculum Substantiale', Archiv fur die Geschichte der Phil. 24
(1913-14) 449-56.
45 See the monographs on the subject by M. Blondel and A. Boehm listed in the Bibliography.
46 Note the similarity to Kant's schematism of the pure concepts of the understanding, but
with a realistic metaphysical reference instead of Kant's methodological one.
47 The term itself was used as early as Otto Casmann, Psychologia anthropologica, Hanau 1594,
but Leibniz used pneumatica or elementa de mente until around 1695. Like others, he had
difficulty at first in spelling the new term (Cout. OF., p. 526; PA, IV, i, 288).
48 PA., VI, i, 53-57. This note, from 1663-64, is already important for the mind-body problem;
Leibniz recognized a matter and form within the soul itself, in addition to a matter and form
in the body.
49 This theory of Leibniz does not appear until the New Essays. The term was Coste's trans-
lation of Locke's 'uneasiness', which Leibniz appropriated. Compare Locke's Essay concerning
Human Understanding, Part II, chap. XX, with the corresponding passage in the New Essays.
50 Leibniz's distinctive use of the term 'apperception' seems also to have been suggested to
him by the French reflexive form s'appercevoir used by Coste to translate 'to perceive'. The
new use of the term first appears in the New Essays, Part II, chap. IX. The preface, in which it
also occurs, was written later.
51 The belief encouraged by some histories of psychology, that the principles of association
were first formulated in the well-known chapter in Locke's Essay (II, chap. XXXIII) is an error.
See Leibniz's discussion in 1667 (No.2), which was itself hardly original.
52 See the New Method of Teaching and Learning Jurisprudence, Part II, Sec. 15 (PA., VI, i,
301).
58 cr. Otto Klemm, Geschichte der Psychologie (1911), pp. 177-78; F. Seifert, 'Psychologie-
Metaphysik der Seele', in Baeumler and Schroter, Handbuch der Philosophie, Vol. III.
54 lise Dohl, Bewusstseinsschichtung, Berlin 1935.
55 Until around 1684 Leibniz remains uncertain in his terminology in this matter. He uses
'perception' and 'cognition' interchangeably for the fundamental act of knowing, until
about 1682, he shows a preference for the former term. Arnauld's use ofthe term in his contro-
versy with Malebranche, which began with the True and False Ideas of 1683, must have
strengthened Leibniz's decision to use it in the Discourse, intended for Arnauld. Likewise, he
had been using 'represent' and 'representative' in the mathematical and symbolic sense for
some time but did not apply it to the knowledge relationship itself, as did both Malebranche
and Arnauld in their controversy, until the correspondence with Arnauld in 1686 (No. 36, I).
56 To Rudolf Christian Wagner, Leibniz admits that he uses the term 'soul' in a broad and a
narrow sense: broadly as the principle of action or form in all monads, narrowly for living
forms only (June 4, 1710; G., VII, 529).
57 To Bieriing, August, 12, 1711 (G., VII, 501-2). Leibniz seems not to have called God the
monas monadorum, however, though he frequently called him a person.
58 The New Essays concerning Human Understanding (cf. Book I, chap. II) was probably com-
pleted as Leibniz left it by 1708, but it remained unpublished until 1765, when Raspe, the
creator of the wonderful stories of Baron Miinchhausen, published it in his edition of Leibniz's
works. Leibniz's notes on Shaftesbury's Characteristics (No. 65), another Platonist who
influenced the Romanticists, are illuminating in this connection.
59 The three principles, from Ulpian Institutes i. i. 3, are "To injure no one; to give to each
his due; to live honorably."
60 See E. Cassirer, Leibniz's System, pp. 458-72, esp. pp. 469-70.
61 Metamorphoses 7. 21: "I see the better and approve it; I follow after the lower."
62 See Petzold's explanation, quoted by Mach, op. cit., pp. 471ff.
68 A Critical Exposition of the Philosophy of Leibniz, chap XV, pp. 172-90. Russell, in 1900,
may have been influenced, like G. E. Moore, to accept Brentano's and Meinong's distinction
between mental act and object.
64 An examination of Leibniz's examples of simple ideas shows that he means by them,
sometimes, the irreducible elements in logical analysis, and sometimes the ultimate perfections
of God or his attributes.
66 There is some ambiguity in Leibniz's use of the terms 'nature' and 'natural', as of their
equivalent ·physical'. Most generally the natural is equivalent to the whole realm of creation or
existence, which is subject to subordinate regulations, and therefore includes man and history.
Sometimes, on the other hand, it applies only to corporeal nature or the realm of phenomena,
exclusive of the internal life of monads and their striving for perfection.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
This list does not claim to be comprehensive, but aims to give the essential materials and tools
for a more thorough study of Leibniz's philosophy and to indicate something of the range of
interpretation which the various phases of his thought have received.
The following bibliographical works are indispensable for Leibniz scholarship:

Bod. B. Bodemann, Eduard, Der Briefwechsel des Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz in der Konig-
lichen Offentlichen Bibliothek zu Hannover, Hanover 1889.
Bod. LH. Bodemann, Eduard, Die Leibniz-Handschri/ten der Koniglichen {jffentlichen
Bibliothek zu Hannover, Hanover 1895.
Rav. Ravier, Emile, Bibliographie des oeuvres de Leibniz, Paris 1937.
MUller, Kurt, Leibniz-Bibliographie: Verzeichnis der Literatur uber Leibniz, Kloster-
mann, Frankfurt, 1967.
The first two works provide a key to the Hanover manuscripts only but contain much material
not elsewhere available. Ravier's book lists only publications of Leibniz's own writings, from
1663 to 1935 (882 items). Professor Paul Schrecker's corrections and additions in Revue philo-
sophique de la France et de l'etranger 63 (1938) 324ff., should be consulted with this work,
which is valuable for its many historical notes. Kurt MUller's bibliography covers the secondary
literature on Leibniz from his death to 1967, and is thus an indispensable supplement to Ravier.
II
The most useful editions of Leibniz's own works including all those used for the translations
given here, are the following:
PA. Leibniz, G. W., Siimtliche Schri/ten und Briefe (ed. by the Preussische Akademie del"
Wissenschaften, after 1945 the Deutsche Akademie der Wissenschaften), Darmstadt
and Leipzig 1923-69.
Only the following volumes have appeared in this monumental effort to publish a
complete and critical edition:
Reihe I: Politischer und historischer Briefwechsel, Vols J-VII.
Reihe II: Philosophischer Briefwechsel, Vol I (1663-84).
Reihe III: Politische Schriften, Vol. I, II.
Reihe VI: Philosophische Schriften, Vol. I, II (1663-72), Vol. VII.
Until this edition is completed, the student must rely on the following sources, none of which
is adequate by itself.
Dut. God. Guil. Leibnitii ... Opera omnia (ed. by Louis Dutens), Geneva 1768-.
An outstanding example of 18th-cenlury editing and still the most comprehensive
edition of Leibniz's work as a whole.
G. Leibniz, G. W., Philosophische Schri/ten (ed. by C. I. Gerhardt), 7 vols., Berlin 1875-90.
GM. Leibniz, G. W., Mathematische Schri/ten (ed. by C. I. Gerhardt), 7 vols., Berlin and
Halle 1849-55.
These two editions are still the most extensive collections of the philosophical and mathema-
tical work with texts based primarily on the Hanover manuscripts.
Erd. God. Guil. Leibnitii opera philosophiae quae extant (ed. by Joh. Ed. Erdmann), 2 vols.,
Berlin 1840.
Erdmann's collection was also based on the Hanover materials.
F. de C. Foucher de Careil, Nouvelles lettres et opuscules inedits de Leibniz, Paris 1857.
Foucher de Careil had already published a less important collection of Lettres et
opuscules inedits in 1854. In 1859 he began the publication of the collected Oeuvres,
of which seven volumes of historical, political, and theological writings appeared.
The texts are inferior to those of G., Erd., and Klopp.
Klopp Die Werke von Leiblliz, Erste Reihe: Historisch-politische und staatswissenschaftliche
Schriften (ed. by O. Klopp), 11 vols., Hanover 1864-84.
Still the most inclusive source for Leibniz's political and historical works.
Guh. DS. Leibniz' Deutsche Schriften (ed. by G. E. Guhrauer), 2 vols., Berlin 1838-40.
Contains materials primarily of biographical interest.
Mollat Mollat, G., Mitteilullgen aus Leibllizens ullgedrucktell Schriften, Leipzig 1893.
A useful selection from the writings on ethics and the philosophy of law.
Couto OF. Couturat, Louis, Opuscules etfragments ineditsde Leibniz, Paris 1903.
The most complete edition of Leibniz's papers on logic and related fields, supple-
mentary to Cout. L., which led to a new understanding of his importance in logic
and methodology.
Ger. Leibnizens nachgelassene Schriften physikalischen, mechanischen, und technischen lnhalts
(ed. by E. GerIand), Leipzig 1906.
Reveals the range of Leibniz's technological interests.
Grua Grua, G., G. W. Leibniz: Textes inedits d'apres les manuscrits de la Bibliotheque provin-
ciale de Hanovre, 2 vols., Paris 1948.
A gleaning of unpublished materials in ethics, theology, religion, and political philo-
sophy, with excellent notes.
Jag. Jagodinski, I., Leibnitiana e1ementa philosophiae arcanae de summa rerum, Kasan 1913.
An edition, with Russian translation, of notes from the Paris period.
Sch. Leibniz, G. W., Ausgewiihlte philosophische Schriften im Origillaltext (ed. by H. Schma-
lenbach), 2 vols., Leipzig 1915-.
A comparative text of an important selection of the philosophical works, collating the
best published versions.
Schrecker, Paul., G. W. Leibniz: Lettres etfragments inedits, Paris 1934.
An excellent edition of papers and letters found in the National Library at Warsaw.
BC. Leibniz, G. W., Hauptschriften zur Grundung der Philosophie (ed. by E. Cassirer; trans-
lated by A. Buchenau), 2d ed., 2 vols., Leipzig 1924.
Along with German translations of the Theodicy and the New Essays, this makes up the
most useful German version of Leibniz. Cassirer's notes are a valuable extension of his
earlier interpretation (Cas.).
Belaval, Yvon, (ed.), G. W. Leibniz: Confessio philosophi. La profession de foi du
philosophe, Paris 1961.
Other editions, including those of individual works, may be found listed in Ueberweg and
Ravier.
III
The most important previously available English translations of Leibniz's philosophical works
are the following:
Duncan, G. M. (trans.), The Philosophical Works of Leibniz, 2d ed., New Haven 1908.
Langley, A. G. (trans.), New Essays concerning Human Understanding, by Gottfried
Wilhelm Leibniz; Together with all Appendix of some of His Shorter Pieces, 2d ed.,
Chicago 1916.
Latta, R. (ed.)., Leibniz: The MOlladology and Other Philosophical Writillgs, Oxford 1898.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 65
Morris, Mary, The Philosophical Writings of Leibniz, Selected and Translated, Every-
man's Library, New York, 1934.
Montgomery, G. R. W., Leibniz: Discourse on Metaphysics, Correspondence with
Arnauld, and Monadology, Chicago 1902.
Schrecker, Paul and Anne Martin (tr.), Leibniz: Monadology and Other Philosophical
Essays, New York 1965.
Wiener, Philip P. (ed.), Leibniz Selections (Modern Students Library), New York 1951.
All these collections contain materials not included in the present volumes. Among other
translations may be mentioned H. W. Carr's edition of the Monadology, with introduction,
commentary, and supplementary essays, London 1930; J. M. Child's Leibniz's Early Mathe-
matical Manuscripts, Chicago 1921, with a critical discussion of the origin of the calculus; and
the early translations in the Journal of Speculative Philosophy, 1867-71, by F. H. Hedge (No.
67), Thomas Davidson (No. 62), and A. E. Kroeger (Nos. 47 and 58).
IV
The best available biographical materials are still to be found in the following works:
Guh. L. Guhrauer, G. E., Gottfried Wilhelm Freiherr von Leibniz: Eine Biographie, 2 vols.,
Breslau 1842.
Though corrected and supplemented at many points, this is still the most complete
biography. A condensation, in English, but without Guhrauer's rich collection
of materials, appeared three years later: J. N. Mackie's Life of G. W. von Leibnitz
Boston 1845.
Fischer, Kuno, G. W. Leibniz: Leben, Werke, und Lehre, 5th ed., Heidelberg 1920.
The appendix to this edition, by W. Kabitz, corrects both Fischer and Guhrauer
on many details and reports on the biographical research until 1920. An account of
Leibniz's life by the discoverer of many new details, Professor Paul Ritter, is found
in Ueberweg, III (l2thed.), 307-14.
Huber, Kurt, Leibniz, Munich 1951.
This small book, written in part in prison and left incomplete when the Munich
professor was sentenced to death by Hitler's Volksgericht in 1943, contains new
information about the influences upon Leibniz and a contribution to critical appa·
ratus as well.
Much new material for a biography can be found in the monograph by Erich Hochstetter,
Zu Leibniz' Gediichtnis, 1948. The definitive biography can be written only after the work of
the German Academy edition is much nearer completion.
On the 17th-century background, Voltaire's classic Siecle de Louis XIV may be supplement-
ed by the following valuable studies:
Clarke, G. N., The Seventeenth Century, Oxford 1929.
Dilthey, W., 'Leibniz und sein Zeitalter', in Gesammelte Schriften, Vol. III, Leipzig
1927.
Hazard, Paul, La crise de la conscience europeenne, 1680-1715,3 vols., Paris 1935.
Meyer, R. W., Leibniz und die europiiische Ordnungskrise, Hamburg 1948. English
translation by J. P. Stern, Leibnitz and the Seventeenth-Century Revolution, Cam-
bridge 1952.
V
Out of the vast literature of interpretation which has been built upon Leibniz's thought, only
those works which contribute to contemporary reappraisal and understanding have been
selected. Of 19th-century interpretations, the most influential was that of J. E. Erdmann,
Versuch einer wissenschaftlichen Darstellung der Geschichte der neueren Philosophie, Vol. IV,
which centered attention upon Leibniz's metaphysics and theory of knowledge, and their
relation to his scientific work, to the neglect of logic and methodology. In various measures
this work influenced the interpretations even of such men as Eduard Zeller, Geschichte der
deutschen Philosophie seit Leibniz (1873), and Kuno Fischer, in the work mentioned in Section
III. Fischer's analysis of the monad differs distinctly from that of Erdmann, however. J. T.
Merz's Leibniz, Edinburgh 1884, also reflects Erdmann's point of view and limitations.
Three great works, however, all appearing within a few years at the beginning of the 20th
century, may be considered the beginnings of more recent criticism. All of them are profound
but one-sided, and all three stress Leibniz's logic as the key to his thought.
Cas. Cassirer, Ernst, Leibniz's System in seinen wissenschaftlichen Grundlagen, Marburg 1902.
Cassirer's interpretation is Neo-Kantian and identifies Leibniz's logic with the formal
principles of possible experience. In a supplement he criticizes the two following works.
Cassirer makes it clear in a later note, however (BC., II, 95-96), that he considered this
thorough study as merely preliminary, and not a complete account.
Cout. L. Couturat, Louis, La /ogique de Leibniz d'apres documents inedits, Paris 1901.
This careful and critical study is restricted to logic and the projects related to it.
Couturat later described Leibniz's approach to metaphysics from logic in 'Sur la
metaphysique de Leibniz', Revue de metaphysique et de morale 10 (1902) 1-25.
Couturat's conception of logic was mathematical, and his interpretation is distinct-
ly different from Cassirer's.
Russell, Bertrand, A Critical Exposition of the Philosophy of Leibniz, Cambridge
1900.
Russell reduces Leibniz's thought to basic premises and criticizes it as a deductive
system. His admirable analysis involves a relative neglect, however, of the complex
structure of the thought. Russell reviewed the positions of Cassirer and Couturat in
'Recent Work in the Philosophy of Leibniz', Mind 12 (1903) 177-201.
Corrective in one way or another of these one-sided interpretations are the following important
works:
Boutroux, Emile, La philosophie allemande au XVII" siecle, Paris 1929.
These lectures from 1887 to 1888, together with Boutroux's introductions to his
editions of the Monadology and the New Essays, Book I, combine a concern for
scientific methodology with an idealistic metaphysics.
Joseph, H. W. B., Lectures on the Philosophy of Leibniz, Oxford 1949.
Lectures for undergraduates; a clear and sharp analysis of some breaking points in
the system.
K. Kabitz, W., Die Philosophie des jungen Leibniz, Heidelberg 1909.
Primarily a historical study, this work affirms the essentially metaphysical nature of
Leibniz's thought.
Lovejoy, A. 0., The Great Chain ofBeing, Cambridge, Mass., 1936, esp. chap. V.
This study of the Platonic tradition in Western thought puts Leibniz into the proper
historical stream and shows the ambiguity between his temporalism and eternal ism.
Mahnke, D., Leibnizens Synthese von Individualmetaphysik und Universalmathematik,
Halle 1925.
Extremely valuable for its criticism of the important Leibniz interpretations since 1900.
Mahnke himself seeks the unity of Leibniz's individualism and universalism in pheno-
menology.
Pichler, H., Leibniz: Ein harmonisches Gespriich, Graz 1919.
A sensitively conceived Leibnizian dialogue showing the unity of the logic, ethics, and
aesthetics.
Schmalenbach, H., Leibniz, Munich 1921.
Seeks to interpret Leibniz's thought as the confluence of the streams of Protestant indivi-
dualism and modem scientific universalism, combining a culture-historical with a meta-
physical study.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 67
Wundt, W., Leibniz: Zu seinem zweihundertjahrigen Geburtstag, Leipzig 1917.

A short but brilliant interpretation based on the physical theories.
Among the more general introductions into Leibniz's thought, the student may find the
following helpful:
Belaval, Yvon, Leibniz: Initiation asaphilosophie, Paris 1962.
Carr, H. W., Leibniz, London 1929.
Honigswald, R., G. W. Leibniz, TUbingen 1929.
Rescher, Nicholas, The Philosophy of Leibniz, Englewood Cliffs, N.J., 1967.
Stammler, G., Leibniz (Fromann's Klassiker), Munich 1930.
VI
Of the special studies on separate fields of Leibniz's thought, the following selections are most
useful.
(l) For discussions of special metaphysical problems:
Biema, Emile van, L 'espace et Ie temps chez Leibniz et chez Kant, Paris 1908.
Blondel, M., Une enigme historique: Le "Vinculum substantiale" d'apres Leibniz et
l'ebauche d'un realisme superieur, Paris 1930.
Boehm, A., Le "Vinculum substantiale" chez Leibniz: Ses origines historiques, Paris 1938.
Both studies emphasize the Scholastic origins of the concept.
Grua, Gaston, Jurisprudence universeile et theodicee selon Leibniz, Paris 1953.
Hicks, G. Dawes, 'The "Modes of Spinoza" and the "Monads" of Leibniz', in Critical
Realism, London 1938.
Hicks investigates the problem of Leibniz's success in establishing individualism
within the bounds of an absolute.
Jalabert, Jacques, La tMorie leibnizienne de substance, Paris 1947.
Kanthack-Heufelder, K., Die psychische Kausalitiit und ihre Bedeuting fiir das Leib-
nizische System, I. Teil, Leipzig 1939.
Ropohl, H., Das Eine und die Welt, Leipzig 1936.
An examination of the problem of the one and the many. A list of Leibniz bibliogra-
phies is included.
(2) On logic, epistemology, and methodology.
DUrr, K., Neue Beleuchtung einer Theorie von Leibniz, Darmstadt 1930.
Matzat, H., Untersuchungen iiber die metaphysischen Grundlagen der Leibnizschen
Zeichenkunst, Berlin 1938.
These works examine the foundations of the universal characteristic and logical calculus
particularly their relations to metaphysics.
Heimsoeth, H., Die Methode der Erkenntnis bei Descartes und Leibniz, Giessen 1914.
A detailed and critical analysis of methodology in Leibniz, distinguishing it sharply
from epistemology.
Martin, Gottfried, Leibniz: Logic and Metaphysics. (tr. by P.S. Lucas), 1963.
Parkinson, G. H. R., Logic and Reality in Leibniz's Metaphysics, Oxford 1965.
Pape, Ingetrud, Leibniz, Zugang und Deutung aus dem Wahrheitsproblem, Stuttgart 1949.
Wiener, Philip P., 'Notes on Leibniz's Conception of Logic and Its Historical Context',
Philosophical Review 48 (1939) 567-86.
(3) Mathematics and physics. Cantor's Vorlesungen ilber Geschichte der Mathematik remains
the most careful study of Leibniz's contributions to the former field, and E. Mach's The
Science of Mechanics is still useful, though far from adequate, in the latter.
Hofmann, J. E., Die Entwicklungsgeschichte der Leibnizschen Mathematik wiihrend des
Aufenthaltes in Paris, 1672-1676, Munich 1949.
See also the work by Hofmann listed in the Introduction, note 11.
Scholz, H., 'Leibniz und die mathematische Grundlagungsforschung', Jahresber. der
deutschen Mathematikervereinigung 52 (1942) 217-44.
A clear account of Leibniz's general science as metaphysics, stressing the role of the
principles of possibility, existence, and the extremum or best possible.
Gueroult, M., Dynamique et metaphysique leibniziennes, Paris 1934.
The most thorough study of the relation of physical to metaphysical views; traces the
development of the physical concepts, with particular emphasis upon Leibniz's debt to
Huygens.
(4) Psychology and related fields. The most adequate general discussion is in Max Dessoir's
Geschichte der neueren deutschen Psychologie (Berlin, 1902). Of the large body of monographs
and studies, the following are perhaps most helpful.
Dahl, I., Bewusstseinsschichtung: Ein Beitrag zur Entstehungsgeschichte ihrer Theorie,
insbesondere durch Nachweis von Ursprungen bei Leibniz, Berlin 1935.
Leibniz as forerunner of psychoanalytic concepts.
Ganz, R., Das Unbewusste bei Leibniz, Zurich 1917.
Grau, K. J., Die Entwicklung des Bewusstseinbegriffes im XVII. u. XVIII. Jahrhunderts,
Halle 1916.
Strahm, H., Die "petites perceptions" im System von Leibniz, Bern 1930.
(5) Ethics and theology. Leibniz's ethics and value theory have been neglected. His position is
described in L.le Chevallier's La Morale de Leibniz, Paris 1933.
The work of two men, Baruzi and Kieft, is of basic importance in understanding his religious
motives and ideas. Their works are as follows:
Baruzi, J., Leibniz et ['organisation religieuse de la terre, Paris 1907.
Baruzi, J., Leibniz, avec de nombreux textes inedits, Paris 1909.
Both books contain much source material.
Kieft, F. X., Der Friedensplan des Leibniz zur Wiedervereinigung der getrennten christ-
lichen Kirchen, Paderborn 1903.
Kieft, F. X., Leibniz; Der europiiische Freiheitskampfgegen die Hegemonie Frankreichs,
Mainz 1913.
A good English account of the unification efforts is G. T. Jordan's The Reunion of the Churches:
A Study ofG. W. Leibnitz and His Great Attempt, London 1927.
For the concept of God, the following may be consulted:
Garland, A., Der Gottesbegriffbei Leibniz, Giessen 1907.
Jalabert, Jacques, Le dieu de Leibniz, Paris 1960.
Rolland, E., Le determinisme monadique et Ie probleme de Dieu dans la philosophie de
Leibniz, Paris 1935.
The interesting and unexplored field of Leibniz's relation to Malebranche is opened in G.
Stieler's Leibniz und Malebranche und das Theodizeeproblem, Darmstadt 1930. Andre Robinet
has published all of the texts involved in the relationship in Malebranche et Leibniz: Relations
Personnelles, Paris 1955.
Georges Friedmann's Leibniz et Spinoza, Paris 1946, is a thorough study of the historical and
philosophical relations between these two thinkers.
(6), Politics, law, and history. An enumeration of Leibniz's achievements in legal theory is
found in the following works:
MacDonell, John, 'Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz', in Great Jurists of the World,
Boston 1914.
Cairns, Huntington, Legal Philosophy from Plato to Hegel, Baltimore 1949, chap. IX.
Grua, Gaston, Lajustice humaine selon Leibniz, Paris 1956.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 69
Schneider, Hans-Peter, Justitia Universalis: Quellenstudien zur Geschichte des christ-

lichen Naturrechts bei Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, Frankfurt 1967.
For the sources and historical importance of Leibniz's political concepts see the following:
Basch, Victor, Les doctrines politiques des philosophes classiques de I'Allemagne, Paris
1927.
Ruck, E., Die Leibnizische Staatsidee aus den Quellen dargestellt, Tiibingen 1909.
On Leibniz's significance as a historian, consult:
Conze, 'Leibniz als Historiker', in E. Hochstetter (ed.), Leibniz zu seinem 300. Ge-
burtstag, De Gruyter, Berlin, 1951.
Daville, Louis, Leibniz historien, Paris 1909.
Two recent studies on Leibniz's relations to Russia are of contemporary interest. In some ways
they supplement the older work by W. Guerrier, Leibniz in seinen Beziehungen zu Russland und
Peter dem Grossen, Leipzig 1873, which contains most of the important sources.
Benz, Ernst, 'Leibniz und Peter der Grosse' (1947), in Hochstetter, op. cit.
Richter, L., Leibniz und sein Russlandbild, Berlin 1946.
(7) An indication of the continued importance of Leibniz's thought may be found in the
numerous publications which the tercentennial of his birth in 1946 called forth. The volume of
essays prepared under the editorial leadership of E. Hochstetter, several times mentioned
above, is of importance in summarizing recent research on the several aspects of Leibniz's
work. Another collection of essays and three special editions of philosophical journals are also
noteworthy:
Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz: Vortrage der aus Anlass seines 300. Geburtstages in Ham-
burg abgehaltenen wissenschaftlichen Tagung, Hamburg 1946.
Journal of the History of Ideas, September 1946.
Revue philosophique de la France et de l'hranger, October-December 1946.
Zeitschrift fur philosophische Forschung, Erganzungsheft, 1947, and Band 20 (1966)
375-658.
Revue internationale de philosophie 20 (1966) 163-345. A review of the literature after
1650 and a discussion of the critical issues involved is found in Loemker, 'Leibniz in
our Time', Philosophische Rundschau 13 (1965) 83-111.
The papers read at the Leibniz Philosophical Congress in observance of the 250th
anniversary of his death at Hanover in November, 1966 are being published as Studia
Leibniziana in five volumes.
PART I
MAINZ AND PARIS, 1666-76

DISSERTATION ON THE ART OF COMBINATIONS
1666
(Selections)
The Dissertatio de arte combinatoria, which Leibniz published in 1666, was an expansion
of the dissertation and theses submitted for disputation the same year to qualify for a
position in the philosophical faculty at Leipzig. The work contains the germ of the plan
for a universal characteristic and logical calculus, which was to occupy his thinking for
the rest of his life. That project is here conceived as a problem in the arithmetical combi-
nation of simple into complex concepts, Leibniz deriving basic theorems on permutation
and combination and applying them to the classification of cases in logic, law, theology,
and other fields of thought. His later judgment on the work was that in spite of its imma-
turity and its defects, especially in mathematics, its basic purpose was sound.
Three introductory sections which supply the metaphysical and logical foundations of
work are given here. They are (I) a demonstration of the existence of God with which
he prefaced the work; (II) the 'corollaries' prepared for the disputation; and (Ill) the
definitions introducing the work itself. The solution of the first two problems and several
applications are also included.
I. DEMONSTRATION OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD

[G, IV, 32-33]
Hypotheses [Praecognita]i:
1. Definition 1. Godis an incorporeal substance of infinite power [virtus].
2. Definition 2. I call substance whatever moves or is moved.
3. Definition 3. Infinite power is an original capacity [potentia] to move the infinite.
For power is the same as original capacity; hence we say that secondary causes operate
by virtue [virtus] of the primary.
4. Postulate. Any number of things whatever may be taken simultaneously and yet
be treated as one whole. If anyone makes bold to deny this, I will prove it. The concept
of parts is this: given a plurality of beings all of which are understood to have something
in common; then, since it is inconvenient or impossible to enumerate all of them every
time, one name is thought of which takes the place of all the parts in our reasoning,
to make the expression shorter. This is called the whole. But in any number of given
things whatever, even infinite, we can understand what is true of all, since we can
enumerate them all individually, at least in an infinite time. It is therefore permissible
to use one name in our reasoning in place of all, and this will itself be a whole. 2
5. Axiom 1. If anything is moved, there is a mover.
6. Axiom 2. Every moving body is being moved.
7. Axiom 3. If all its parts are moved, the whole is moved.

8. Axiom 4. Every body whatsoever has an infinite number of parts; or, as is

commonly said, the continuum is infinitely divisible.
9. Observation. There is a moving body.
Proof [EKOeui~]:
1. Body A is in motion, by hypothesis No.9.
2. Therefore there is something which moves it, by No.5,
3. and this is either incorporeal
4. because it is of infinite power, by No.3;
5. since A, which it moves, has infinite parts, by No.8;
6. and is a substance, by No.2.
7. It is therefore God, by No.1 Q.E.D.
8. Or it is a body,
9. which we may call B.
10. This is also moved, by No.6,
11. and what we have demonstrated about body A again applies, so that
12. either we must sometime arrive at an incorporeal power, as we showed in the
case of A, in steps 1-7 ofthe proof, and therefore at God;
13. or in the infinite whole there exist bodies which move each other continuously.
14. All these taken together as one whole can be called C, by No.4.
15. And since all the parts of C are moved, by step 13,
16. Citselfismoved, by No. 7,
17. and by some other being, by No.5,
18. namely, by an incorporeal being, since we have already included all bodies,
back to infinity, in C, by step 14. But we need something other than C, by 17 and 19,
19. which must have infinite power, by step No.3, since C, which is moved by it,
is infinite, by steps 13 and 14;
20. and which is a substance, by No.2,
21. and therefore God, by No. 1.
Therefore, God exists. Q. E.D. 3
II. COROLLARIES FOR DISPUTATION 4

[G., IV, 41-43]
An Arithmetical Disputation on Complexions, which Mr. Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz
of Leipzig will hold in the famous university of Leipzig, by permission of its distin-
guished philosophical faculty, on March 7,1666.
I. Logic
1. There are two primary propositions. The first is the principle of all theorems or
necessary propositions: what is (so) either is or is not (so), or conversely. The other
is the basis of all observations or contingent propositions: something exists.
2. Perfect demonstrations are possible in all disciplines.
3. If we regard the disciplines in themselves, they are all theoretical; if their appli-
cation, they are all practical. Those, however, from which the application follows more
immediately are rightly called practical par excellence.
4. Although every method can be employed in every discipline, as we follow the
traces either of our own investigation or of the producing nature in our treatment, it yet
MAINZ AND PARIS, 1666-76 75
happens in the practical disciplines that the order of nature and that of knowledge
coincides, because here the nature of the thing itself originates in our thought and pro-
duction. For the end in view both moves us to produce the means and leads us to
know them, which is not true in the matters which we can merely know but cannot
also produce. Moreover, although every method is allowed, not every one is expedient.
5. The end of logic is not the syllogism but Simple contemplation. The proposition is,
in fact, the means to this end, and the syllogism is the means to the proposition.
II. Metaphysics
1. One infinite is greater than another. (Cardan, Pract. Arith., chap. 66, nn. 165 and
260. Seth Ward is said to dissent in his Arithmetic ofInfinites. 5)
2. God is substance; creature is accident.
3. A discipline concerning created beings in general is needed, but this is nowadays
usually included in metaphysics.
4. It is very improbable that the term cause expresses an unequivocal concept to
cover efficient, material, formal, and final causes. For what is the word influx, more
than a mere word? 6
III. Physics
1. Since we may observe that other cosmic bodies move about their own axes, it is
not absurd that the same should be true of the earth; but neither is the contrary.
2. Since the most general difference between bodies is that of density and rarity 7,
the four primary qualities may obviously be explained as follows: the humid is the rare,
the dry is the dense, the warm is the rarefying, and the cold is the condensing. Every-
thing rare is easily confined within external boundaries, but with difficulty within its
own boundaries; everything dense, the contrary. In the rare, everything that rarefies
facilitates the quickening of the homogeneous with respect to itself and the separation
of the heterogenous; in the dense the way to this is blocked. A reason is thus supplied
for the Aristotelian definitions. Nor does fire, which seems to be rare but must actually
be dry, provide an exception to this, for I reply that one thing is to be said about fire
per se and another of fire which inheres in other bodies, for in this case it follows the
nature of these bodies. Thus it is clear that a flame, which is nothing but burning air,
must be fluid just as is air itself. On the other hand, the fire which consists of burning
iron is like iron itself.
3. It is a fiction that the force of the magnet is checked by steel.
IV. Practical
1. Justice (particular) is a virtue serving the mean in the affections of one man to-
ward another, the affections of enjoying and of harming, or those of good will and hate.
The rule of the mean is to gratify another (or myself) as long as this does not harm a third
person (or another). This must be noted in order to defend Aristotle against the cavil of
Grotius, who speaks as follows in the Prolegomena of his de Jure belli et pacis (Sec. 4):
That this principle (that virtue consists in the mean) cannot correctly be assumed as universal
is clear even in the case of justice. For since he (Aristotle) was unable to find the opposites of
excess and defect in the affections and the actions which follow from them, he sought them
both in the things themselves with which justice is concerned. But this is obviously to leap from
one genus of things to another, a fault which he rightly criticizes in others. 8

Grotius, namely, maintains that it is inconsistent to introduce into the species of a

classification something which is derived by another principle of classification; he
calls this, not too philosophically, "leaping over into another genus". Certainly the
mean in affections is one thing, the mean in things another, and virtues are habits, not
of things but of minds. Therefore I show that justice is also found in a moderation of
the affections.
2. Thrasymachus well says, in Plato's Republic, Book I, that justice is what is useful
to the more powerful. For in a proper and simple sense, God is more powerful than
others. In an absolute sense one man is not more powerful than another, since it is
possible for a strong man to be kiIIed by a weak one. Besides, usefulness to God is not
a matter of profit but of honor. Therefore the glory of God is obviously the measure of
all law. Anyone who consults the theologians, moralists, and writers on cases of con-
science will find that most of them base their arguments on this. Once this principle
is established as certain, therefore, the doctrine of justice can be worked out scientifi-
cally. Until now this has not been done. 9
III. CUM DEO!

[G., IV, 35-75]
1. Metaphysics, to begin at the top, deals with being and with the affections of being
as well. Just as the affections of a natural body are not themselves bodies, however, so
the affections of a being are not themselves beings.
2. An affection (or mode) of a being, moreover, is either something absolute, which
is called quality, or something relative, and this latter is either the affection of a thing
relative to its parts if it has any, that is, quantity, or that of one thing relative to an-
other, relation. But if we speak more accurately and assume a part to be different from
the whole, the quantity of a thing is also a relation to its part.
3. Therefore, it is obvious that neither quality nor quantity nor relation is a being;
it is their treatment in a signate actuality that belongs to metaphysics.
4. Furthermore, every relation is either one of union or one of harmony [convenientia].
In union the things between which there is this relation are called parts, and taken
together with their union, a whole. This happens whenever we take many things simul-
taneously as one. By one we mean whatever we think of in one intellectual act, or at
once. For example, we often grasp a number, however large, all at once in a kind of
blind thought, namely, when we read figures on paper which not even the age of
Methuselah would suffice to count explicitly.
5. The concept of unity is abstracted from the concept of one being, and the whole
itself, abstracted from unities, or the totality, is called number. 1 0 Quantity is therefore
the number of parts. Hence quantity and number obviously coincide in the thing itself,
but quantity is sometimes interpreted extrinsically, as it were, in a relation or ratio to
another quantity, to aid us, namely, when the number of parts is unknown.
6. This is the origin of the ingenious specious analysis l l which Descartes was the
first to work out, and which Francis Schotten and Erasmus Bartholin later organized
into principles, the latter in what he calls the Elements of Universal Mathematics.
Analysis is thus the science of ratios and proportions, or of unknown quantity, while
arithmetic is the science of known quantity, or numbers. But the Scholastics falsely
believed that number arises only from the division of the continuum and cannot be
applied to incorporeal beings. For number is a kind of incorporeal figure, as it were,

which arises from the union of any beings whatever; for example, God, an angel, a
man, and motion taken together are four.
7. Since number is therefore something of greatest universality, it rightly belongs to
metaphysics, if you take metaphysics to be the science of those properties which are
common to all classes of beings. For to speak accurately, mathematics (adopting this
term now) is not one discipline but small parts taken out of different disciplines and
dealing with the quantity of the objects belonging to each of them. These parts have
rightly grown together because of their cognate nature. For as arithmetic and analysis
deal with the quantity of beings, so geometry deals with the quantity of bodies, or of
the space which is coextensive with bodies. Far be it from us, certainly, to destroy the
social distribution of disciplines among the professions, which has followed conve-
nience in teaching rather than the order of nature.
8. Furthermore, the whole itself (and thus number or totality) can be broken up
into parts, smaller wholes as it were. This is the basis of complexions, provided you
understand that there are common parts in the different smaller wholes themselves.
For example, let the whole be ABC; then AB, Be, and AC will be smaller wholes, its
parts. And the disposition of the smallest parts, or of the parts assumed to be smallest
(that is, the unities) in relation to each other and to the whole can itself also be varied.
Such a disposition is called situs. 12
9. So there arise two kinds of variation: complexion and situs. And viewed in them-
selves, both complexion and situs belong to metaphysics, or to the science of whole
and parts. If we look at their variability, however, that is, at the quantity of variation,
we must turn to numbers and to arithmetic. I am inclined to think that the science of
complexions pertains more to pure arithmetic, and that of situs to an arithmetic of
figure. For so we understand unities to produce a line. I want to note here in passing,
however, that unities can be arranged either in a straight line or in a circle or some
other closed line or lines which outline a figure. In the former case they are in absolute
situs or that of parts to the whole, or order; in the latter they are in relative situs or that
of parts to parts, or vicinity. In definitions 4 and 5, below, we shall tell how these differ.
Here these preliminary remarks will suffice to bring to light the discipline upon which
our subject matter is based. 13
DEFINITIONS
1. Variation here means change of relation. For change may be one of substance,
or of quantity, or of quality; still another kind changes nothing in the thing but only its
relation, its situs, its conjunction with some other thing.
2. Variability is the quantity of all variations. For the limits of powers taken in
abstraction denote their quantity; so it is frequently said in mechanics that the power
of one machine is double that of another.
3. Situs is the location of parts.
4. Situs is either absolute or relative; the former is that of the parts with respect to
the whole, the latter that of parts to parts. In the former the number of places is con-
sidered, and the distance from the beginning and the end; in the latter neither the
beginning nor the end is considered, but only the distance of one part from another
part is viewed. Hence the former is expressed by a line or by lines which do not inclose

a figure or close upon themselves, and best by a straight line; the latter is expressed by a
line or lines inclosing a figure, and best by a circle. In the former much consideration
is given to priority and posteriority; in the latter, none. We wiIl therefore do weIl to
caIl the former order,
S. And the latter vicinity. The former is disposition; the latter, composition. Thus
by reason of order the following situses are different: abcd, bccla, cdab, dabc. But in
b
vicinity there can be no variation but only situs, namely, this: a c. Thus when the
d
very witty Taubman was dean of the philosophical faculty at Wittenberg, he is said
to have placed the names of Master's candidates on the public program in a circular
arrangement, so that eager readers should not learn who held the position of 'swine' .14
6. We will usually mean the variability of order when we take variations par
exceIlence; for example, 4 things can be arranged in 24 ways.lS
7. The variability of a complex we call complexions; for example, 4 things can be put
together in 15 different ways.16
8. The number of varying things we shall caIl simply number; for example, 4 in the
case proposed.
9. A complexion is the union of a smaIler whole within the greater, as we have said
in the introduction.
10. In order to determine a certain complexion, however, the greater whole is to be
divided into equal parts assumed as minima (that is, parts now not to be considered as
further divisible). Of these parts it is composed, and by the variation of them the
complexion or lesser whole may be varied. Because the lesser whole itself is greater or
less according as more parts are included at any time, we call the number of parts or
unities to be connected together at one time the exponent, after the example of a
geometric progression. For example, let the whole be ABCD. If the lesser whole is to
consist of two parts, for example, AB, AC, AD, BC, BD, CD, the exponent will be 2;
if of three parts, for example, ABC, ABD, ACD, BCD, the exponent will be 3.
11. We shaIl write the complexions with a given exponent as foIlows: if the exponent
is 2, com2nation (combination); if 3, con3nation (conternation); if 4, con4nation; etc.
12. Complexions taken simply are all the complexions computed for all exponents;
for example, 15 of the number 4. These consist of 4 units, 6 com2nations, 4 con3nations,
1 con4nation.
13. A useful (useless) variation is one which can (cannot) occur because ofthe nature
of the subject matter; for example, the four (physical] elements can be com2ned six
times, but two com2nations are useless, namely, those in which the contraries fire and
water and the contraries air and earth are com2ned ....
PROBLEMS
Three things should be considered: problems, theorems, and applications. We have

added the application to individual problems wherever it seemed worth while, and the
theorems also. To some of the problems, however, we have added a demonstration. Of
these, we owe the latter part of the first problem, and the second and fourth, to others;
the rest we ourselves have discovered. We do not know who was the first to discover
them. Schwenter (Delic., Book i, Sec. 1, prop. 32) says they exist in Jerome Cardan,
John Buteonis, and Nicolas Tartalea. But we have not found them in Cardan's
Arithmetica practica, published in Milan in 1539. Christopher Clavius set forth espe-
cially clearly what has been found recently, in his Commentarium in Sphaeram Joannis
de Sacro Bosco, published in Rome in 1585, pages 33 if}?
Problem I
To Discover the Complexions for a Given Number and Exponent
1. There are two ways of solving this problem, one for all complexions, the other for
com2nations only. The former is more general, but the latter requires fewer data,
namely, only the number and the exponent, while the former also presupposes the
discovery of antecedent complexions. 1s
2. We have developed the more general method; the special one is popularly known.
The more general solution is this: Add the complexions of the number preceding the
given number, by the given exponent and by the exponent preceding it; the sum will be
the desired complexions. For example, let the given number be 4 and the exponent 3;
add the 3 com2nations and the 1 con3nation of the preceding number 3; (3 + 1 = 4).
The sum 4 will be the answer.
3. But since the complexions of the preceding number are required for this solution,
Table ~ must be constructed. In it the top line contains the numbers from 0 to 12
inclusive from left to right (we believe this is far enough, since it is easily extended);
the vertical line at the left contains the exponents from 0 to 12, reading from top to
bottom; and the bottom line, from left to right, contains the total complexions [com-
plexiones simpliciter]. The lines between contain the complexions for the number given
at the head of the corresponding column and for the exponent given at the left.19
4. The reason for this solution, and the basis of the table, will be clear if we demon-
TABLE I't
o
1 o 1 2 3 4 5 6 7n 8u 9m lOb lle 12r
2 o 0 1 3 6 10 15 21 28 36 45 55 66
3 o 0 o 1 4 lO 20 35 56 84 120 165 220
4 o 0 o 0 1 5 15 35 70 126 210 330 495
~ 5 o 0 o 0 o 1 6 21 56 126 252 462 792 Q
mi
~ 6 o 0 o 0 o o 1 7 28 84 210 462
! ~
9
o 0
o 0
o 0
o 0
o 0
o 0
o
o
o
o
o
o
o
o
o 1
o
o
8
1
o
36
9
1
120
45
10
330
165
55 220
10 o 0 o 0 o o o o o 0 1 11 66
11 o 0 o 0 o o o o o 0 o 1 12
12 o 0 o 0 o o o o o 0 o o 1
- - .T-O--I.--3~-7~--15~--3~--6-3~-127~-255. 51!. 1023. 2047. 4095.
----
t I !. 2. 4. 8. 16. 32. 64. 128. 256. 512. 1024. 2048. 4096.
----------------------------
• The complexions taken simply (or the sum of the complexions of all given exponents),
added to 1, equal the total of a geometric progression with base 2t. 20 ..•

strate that the complexions for a given number and exponent arise from the sum of the
complexions of the preceding number, for both the given and the preceding exponents.
Taking the given number as 5 and the given exponent as 3, the antecedent number wiII
be 4; it will have 4 con3nations and 6 com2nations, by Table ~. Now the number 5
has all the con3nations of the preceding number (since the part is contained in the
whole), namely, 4, and it has besides as many con3nations as the preceding number has
com2nations, since the unit by which the number 5 exceeds 4, added to each of the
individual com2nations of 4, will make the same number of con3nations. Thus
6 + 4 = 10. Therefore the complexions for a given number, etc. Q.E.D.
Problem II
To Discover the Complexions Taken Simply for a Given Number
Seek the given number among the exponents of a geometric progression with base 2;
then the total of complexions sought will be the number or term of the progression
whose exponent is the given number, minus 1. It is difficult to understand the reason or
demonstration for this, or to explain if it is understood. The fact, however, is apparent
from Table ~. For when added together, and the sum added to unity, the particular
complexions of a given number always constitute, when one is added, the term of that
geometric progression with base 2, whose exponent is the given number. But if anyone
is interested in seeking the reason for this, it wiII have to be found in the process of
resolving used in the Practica italica, vom Zerfallen. This must be such that a given
term of the geometrical progression is separated into more parts by one than there are
units (i.e., numbers) in its exponent. The first of these must always be equal to the last,
the second to the next to the last, the third to the third from the last, etc., until, if it is
broken up into an equal number of parts, the exponent or number of things being odd,
the two parts in the middle will be equal (for example, 128 or 27 may be broken up into
eight parts according to Table ~: 1,7,21,35,35,21,7,1); or, if the exponent is even and
it must be broken into an odd number, the number left in the middle will have none
corresponding to it (for example, 256 or 2 8 may be broken up into nine parts according
to Table ~: 1, 8, 28, 56, 70, 56, 28, 8, 1). Someone may therefore think that this brings
to light a new method which is absolute for solving problem 1; namely, by breaking up
the complexions taken simply, or the terms of a geometric progression with base 2,
by a method discovered with the aid of algebra. In fact, however, there are not sufficient
data, and the same number can be broken up in several ways yet according to the same
form.
Application of Problems I and II
Since everything which exists or which can be thought must be compounded of parts,
either real or at least conceptual, whatever differs in kind must necessarily either differ
in that it has other parts, hence the use of complexions; or by another situs, hence the
use of dispositions. The former are judged by the diversity of matter; the latter, by the
diversity of form. With the aid of complexions, indeed, we may discover not only the
species of things but also their attributes. Thus almost the whole of the inventive part
of logic is grounded in complexions - both that which concerns simple terms and that
which concerns complex terms; in a word, both the doctrine of divisions and the doc-
trine of propositions; not to mention how much we hope to illumine the analytic part of
logic, or the logic of judgment, by a diligent examination of the modes of the syllogism
in Example VI.
The use of complexions in divisions is threefold: (1) given the principle of one
division, to discover its species; (2) given many divisions of the same genus, to discover
the species mixed from different divisions (this we will treat in Problem III, however);
(3) given the species, to discover the subaltern genera. Examples are scattered through-
out all of philosophy, and we will show that they are not lacking in jurisprudence. And
in medicine every variety of compounded medicaments and pharmaceuticals is made
by mixing various ingredients, though the greatest care is necessary in choosing useful
mixtures. First, therefore, we will give examples of species to be discovered by this
principle. 21
I. Among jurisconsults the following division is proposed (Digests, Gaius, XVII, 1,
2). A mandate is contracted in five ways: in favor of the mandator, of the mandator and
mandatory, of a third person, of the mandator and a third person, of the mandatory
and a third person. We shall seek out the adequacy of the division in this way: its basis
is the question,/or whom, or the person in whose favor the contract is made; there are
three of these, the mandator, the mandatory, and a third person. But there are seven
complexions of three things:
Three Inions: since contract may be in favor of only (1) the mandator; (2) the manda-
tory; or (3) a third person.
The same number of com2nations: (4) in favor of the mandator and mandatory;
(5) of the mandator and a third person; or (6) of the mandatory and a third person.
One con3nation: (7) in favor of the mandator, the mandatory, and a third person all
together.
Here the jurisconsults reject as useless that 1nion in which the contract is in favor of
the mandatory alone, because this would be advice rather than a mandate. There
remain thus six classes. Why they kept only five, omitting the con3nation, I do not know.
II. Aristotle (On Generation and Corruption, Book ii), with Ocellus Lucanus the
Pythagorean, deduces the number of elements, or of the mutable species of a simple
body, from the number of primary qualities, of which he assumes there are four, but
according to these laws: (I) that every element is to be a compound of two qualities
and neither more nor less, and it is thus obvious that Inions, con3nations, and the
con4nation are to be discarded and only com2nations retained, of which there are
six; and (2) that contrary qualities can never enter into one com2nation and that there-
fore two of the com2nations are useless because there are two contraries among these
primary qualities. Hence there remain four com2nations, the same as the number of
elements .... Moreover, as Aristotle derived the elements from these qualities, so Galen
derived from them the four temperaments, the various mixtures of which later medics
have studied; all of whom Claudius Campensis opposed in the past century, in his
Animadversiones naturales in Aristotelem et Galenum (Leyden 1576) ....
IV. In wind organs we call a register, in German ein Zug, a little shaft by whose
opening the sound may be varied, not with respect to the perceived melody or pitch
itself, but in its basis in the pipe, so that sometimes a shaking, sometimes a whisper, is
achieved. More than thirty of such qualities have been discovered by the industry of
our contemporaries. Assume that there are in some organs only twelve such simple
effects; then there will be in all about 4095, as many as there are complexions taken
simply of twelve things. So a great organist can vary his playing as he opens them

together, sometimes many, sometimes a few, sometimes these, sometimes those.

V. Thomas Hobbes, Elementa de corpore, Part I, chapter 5, classifies the things for
which there are terms built into a proposition, or in his own terminology, the named
things [nominata] for which there are names [nomina], into bodies (that is substances,
since for him every substance is a body), accidents. phantasms, and names. Thus a name
is a name either of bodies, for example man; or of accidents, for example, all abstrac-
tions, rationality, motion; or of phantasms, in which he includes space, time, all sen-
sible qualities, etc.; or of names, in which he includes second intentions. Since these
are com2ned with each other in six ways, there arise the same number of kinds of
propositions, and adding to these the cases in which homogeneous terms may be
com2ned (a body ascribed to body, accident to accident, phantasm to phantasm,
secondary concept to secondary concept), namely, four, the total is ten. Out of these
Hobbes thinks that only homogeneous terms can be usefully com2ned. If this is so, as
the common philosophy certainly also acknowledges, and abstract and concrete,
accident and substance, primary and secondary concepts, are wrongly predicated of
each other, this will be useful for the art of discovering propositions or for observing
the selection of useful com2nations out of the uncountable mixture of things....
VIII. The eighth application is in the formation of cases by the jurisconsults. For one
cannot always wait for the lawmaker when a case arises, and it is more prudent to set
up the best possible laws without defects, from the first, than to intrust their restriction
and correction to fortune; not to mention the fact that in any state whatsoever, a
judicial matter is the better treated, the less is left to the decision of the judge (Plato,
Laws, Book ix; Aristotle, Rhetoric, Book i; Jacob Menochius, De arbitrariisjudicum
questionibus et causis, Book i, proem. 1).
Moreover, the art of forming cases is founded on our doctrine of complexions. For
as jurisprudence is similar to geometry in other things, it is also similar in that both
have elements and both have cases. The elements are simples; in geometry figures,
a triangle, circle, etc; in jurisprudence an action, a promise, a sale, etc. Cases are
complexions of these, which are infinitely variable in either field. Euclid composed the
Elements 0/ Geometry, the elements of law are contained in the Corpus Juris, but in
both works more complicated cases are added. The simple terms in the law, however,
out of the combinations of which the rest arise, and as it were, the loci communes
and highest genera, have been collected by Bernhard Lavintheta, a Francisan monk,
in his commentary on the Ars magna of Lully (which see). To us it seems thus: the
terms from whose complexions there arises the diversity of cases in the law are persons,
things, acts, and rights ....
The basis of terms is the same in theology, which is, as it were, a kind of special
jurisprudence, but fundamental for the same reason as the others. For theology is a
sort of public law which applies in the Kingdom of God among men. Here the unfaith-
ful are like rebels; the church is like good subjects; ecclesiastical persons, and indeed
also the political magistrate, are like the subordinate magistrates; excommunication is
like banishment; the teaching of Sacred Scripture and the Word of God is like that of
the laws and their interpretation; that of the canon like the question of which of the
laws are authentic; that of fundamental errors like that of capital crimes; that of the
Final Judgment and the Last Day like that of the judiciary process and the rendered
judgment; that of the remission of sins like that of the pardoning power; that of eternal
punishment like that of capital punishment, etc....
REFERENCES
1 The term 'hypothesis' is used here in its Platonic and mathematical sense, applying to the
given principles upon which the demonstration is based. The term praecognitum appears in late
Scholastic works in the context of ontology.
2 Leibniz's facile identification of the whole with a collective name, and the part with a parti-
cular subsumed under this name, is supplemented below (No.1, III, 4) with a definition of the
whole as a numerical relation between parts. Kabitz has shown that Leibniz's epistemology in
this early period was nominalistic, sensationalistic, and naively realistic. His attitude toward
nominalism is corrected in the introduction to the work of Nizolius (No.6), but the distinction
between names or symbols and the real order represented is developed later, as the theory of
expression or representation becomes explicit.
3 For the next stage in Leibniz's cosmological argument for God's existence see No.5, I; the
mature formulation is in No. 51.
4 These theses were prepared for public disputation and first printed together with the defini-
tions and first two problems. They are found in the footnote in G., IV, 41-43.
5 Leibniz has in mind the Arithmetic of Infinites of John Wallis rather than Seth Ward.
6 The theory that causality consists of an in/fuxus physicus had been proposed by Francis
Suarez (1548-1617) as a solution to the problem of efficient causality and had established itself
through the wide use of his Disputationes metaphysicae (cf. Disp., XII, ii, 4).
7 Leibniz much later reports that as a boy of 15 or younger he had walked in the Rosental
near Leipzig, debating whether to accept the old philosophy of forms or the new atomism and
mechanism and that he had decided in favor of the latter (G., III, 205, 606). Kabitz has shown
that his memory was in error here and that this decision could not have been made earlier than
1664 (K. Fischer, Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz [5th ed.], p. 715). He is thus a mechanist at this
point, convinced that a quantitative determination is possible of all qualities. But how much
his thinking is still in the framework of Aristotelianism this and the following selections show.
8 Hugo Grotius, On the Law of War and Peace, Oxford 1925, p. 25. The influence of Grotius
was of decisive importance in the formation of Leibniz's legal thinking. Cf. p. 58, note 10.
g The letter to Thomas Hobbes (No.4) contains another statement of this argument.
10 In providing a metaphysical basis for the category of number, Leibniz is already searching,
following the tradition of Nicolas of Cusa, Galileo, and Descartes, for a mathematical science
more general than arithmetic and geometry but including both and thinks of it in terms of the
numbering of parts and their possible relationships. It was in the Paris period that he found
that numbers are incapable of maximal determination and separated mathematics from
metaphysics.
11 That is, algebra. Leibniz here overlooks the algebraic discoveries of Vieta, Cardan, and
others. At this time he knew Descartes only by hearsay (cf. No.3) and little mathematics
beyond Euclid. Francis Schooten, professor at Leyden, edited the Opera mathematica of
Francis Vieta in 1646 and also prepared an arrangement of Descartes's geometry which
Erasmus Bartholinus published as the Principia matheseos universalis seu introductio in geo-
metriam Cartesii.
12 "Disposition is the arrangement of that which has parts" (Aristotle, Metaphysics 1027b).
13 Mathematics is thus in this period of Leibniz's thought an abstract consideration of meta-
physical relations, particularly of those relational properties of substance upon which quantity
rests. Leibniz's general mathematics and logic were always grounded in metaphysical prin-
ciples.
14 Variations thus include, in modem terminology, both combinations and permutations,
while situs is a permutation. When this permutation is in circular order (as in the case of the
rearrangement in relation to each other of men seated about a table), it is vicinity; when relative
position to the whole is involved, it is order.
15 That is, the number of permutations of four things taken four at a time is 24.
16 Complexions are in modem terminology combinations; the latter term Leibniz reserves for
the special case of complexions of the second order. His example involves the total combina-
tions of four things, with exponents from 1 to 4. Later he calls this "complexions taken simply"
(Sec. 12).
17 Leibniz's source was Daniel Schwenter, Deliciae physico-mathematicae, Nlimberg 1651-53.
18 Leibniz seems to have known a formula only for the combination of n things taken two at a
time, namely, C2 n =n(n-l), and to have been ignorant of the more general form. He therefore
chooses a tabular method suggestive of Pascal's triangle.
19 Note that the table involves a derivation of complexions by the additive use of 0 and 1 only
and thus anticipates Leibniz's later interest in the binary number system.
20 Thus the total combinations of n terms=2n-1. We omit several sections dealing with
special aspects of the rule for complexions.
21 Leibniz now offers twelve applications, most of which must be omitted because of length.
For his thought about traditional logic the sixth, here omitted, is perhaps most significant. It
contains his deduction of the valid modes and figures of the Aristotelian syllogism.
2
A NEW METHOD FOR LEARNING AND TEACHING

JURISPRUDENCE
1667. Revision Notes, 1697-1700
(Selections from Part I)
Written on his journey from Niirnberg to Frankfort in 1667. this study of the psychology
of learning. the organization of knowledge. and the logical bases of law was designed to
attract the attention of John Philip of SchOnborn. the elector ofMainz and political leader
of the relatively independent Rhenish confederation. and to secure for Leibniz a position
at his court. This it eventually succeeded in doing, and Leibniz was appointed in 1668 to
work with Herman Andrew Lasser in revising the legal code (No.7).
Part I. from which these selections are taken. develops a psychology and philosophy of
education which is Aristotelian and therefore functional in conception. It includes also a
logical analysis of the fields of learning. Part II. here omitted. is devoted to an analysis
of the law. its philosophical foundations. and a program for teaching it. Its discussion of
the three levels of natural right and justice is essentially the same as the later form in
Nos. 43 and 58.
In the last years of the century. Leibniz undertook a revision of this early work. His
more important revision notes are given infootnotes. to show the similarity of many ofhis
early with his more mature views.
PART I. GENERAL AND COMMON TO ALL FACULTIES: ON

A BASIS FOR STUDIES IN GENERAL
[PA., VI, i, 266-72]
1. By a basis for studies we mean a certain kind of reasonable order; that is, a method
for arriving at a state of perfected actions.
2. This state is called habit, which I define as a permanent but acquired readiness
to act.
3. A subject of habit is whatever is capable of action. For it is a fact that even inani-
mate things can be habituated to certain actions. Thus chemists restore the most
volatile spirit of wine [alcohol] by many circulations and agree in teaching that metals
themselves will pass over the alembic by many distillations and cohobations with a
menstruum. 1 In the Elementa de corpore Thomas Hobbes teaches that by frequent
bending metal leaf acquires the habit of a kind of resilience.
4. No one who has read the booklet of Rorarius: That beasts use reason better than
man, or Pliny's wonderful study of the elephant rope-dancer, or the praise of elephants
and dogs in Lipsius' Letters can doubt that beasts are teachable. 2 A recent exhibit in
Vienna of horses dancing in a ring makes these things all the more credible.
5. Since infants differ but little from beasts in their early years as to their external

use of reason, their teachers may conveniently borrow some things from the trainers of
animals. For the masters of horses, dogs, and birds have their own peculiar devices for
teaching them to speak, hunt, or sing.
6. In general, however, the instrument they use is food - plenty when the animals
obey, none when they refuse.... So it is said that the people of the Balearics offered no
food to boys until they had completed their assigned tasks. And "teachers give boys
sweet cakes, so that they will want to learn first principles". From this custom there
remains in some boarding schools a punishment by hunger - das Cariren.
7. This device may be used with children but not with freer minds who are already
making more use of reason. In place of bodily food, these must be offered the food of
the mind, namely, honor. Hence there has arisen a system of classes and places in
the lower schools and of promotions in the universities. In ancient times those boys
who were unusually outstanding were led home by the rest with acclamations, as we
know from the example of Cicero.
8. So much for the subject of habits. The cause or method by which a habit is
acquired is either supernatural infusion or natural practice. In sentient beings, insofar
as they are sentient, the latter is called teaching.
9. Infusion is either divine or diabolical. We have an example of divine infusion in
the apostles' gift of tongues, although this is in fact not thought to have lasted beyond
the ecstasy itself and was therefore not a habit, since it was not permanent. In church
history we have a similar example in St. Ephraim the Syrian, who suddenly received a
knowledge of the Greek language through the prayers of Basil the Great. Examples of
diabolic infusions are not lacking in his slaves. 3 Nor need we think that divine infusion
is entirely lacking in our own times; we implore the divine blessing on our own studies
to this end.
10. From infusion let us proceed to practice. This is done by means of the quantity
of impressive action. But quantity is either extensive or intensive; extensive quantity
consists in the number of actions, intensive in the magnitude or the strength required
to impress the habit. The earlier requirement is popularly recognized when people say
that habit is built by frequent actions; on the latter people are usually silent.
11. The effectiveness of number or frequency is popularly confirmed in the proverb:
Add little to little, and you gather a great pile. And Ovid says:
Gutta cavat lapidem, consumitur annulus usu,
Et teritur pressa vomer aduncus humo.
Aesop's tortoise, who is quicker than the eagle, applies here, as does the German
proverb: "Wer langsam geht kommt auch nach."4 From this principle arises the hu-
man device of attacking in parts a matter which cannot be mastered if attacked as a
whole. We break marble by filing, carry off mountains in baskets, and empty cisterns
with buckets. So we compute vast sums by parts in arithmetic, and in geometry we
divide areas into triangles.
12. From this principle arises the necessity of repetition, upon which permanence,
the ultimate essential of habit, largely depends. For we learn by practice to accept and
dismiss some figures quickly, like a wax tablet, and others slowly, like a bronze one.
Likewise, some people accept and reject the flames of rage quickly like straw, and
others slowly like burning iron. Hence the Pythagoreans held that no one should fall
asleep before "he had reviewed all of his deeds for the whole day". For it is harmful to
spread out repetition too far through the year, as is commonly done in schools. But
daily studies may advantageously be summarized just before night, and then at the
end of seven days, and again at the end of a month. Then all the months can be sum-
marized at the end of the year, and so what is most important may be reviewed on
separate levels. I am not aware that anyone has made this observation before ....
14. So much for frequency of action; we proceed to intensity or magnitude. One act
carried out with a distinctive force of impression often accomplishes more than many
repetitions. For example, we easily remember unusual facts, unexpected jokes, and
acts that are uniquely related to our own interest, such as those which bring us praise or
blame....
15. It is best, however, to mix frequency with magnitude. This happens especially
when action begins with the smallest and is increased continuously and by degrees until
it reaches a maximum. Chemists prescribe this in applying fire to the alteration of
inanimate things. Milo of Croton is said to have hardened himself through an artifice
of this kind. Every day he carried a calf a certain distance, so that, as the calf's weight
increased, his strength also insensibly increased, until at last he carried a bull in the
Olympic games. The art of drinking can be taught on the same basis, if one increases
his capacity by a glass as often as each week. So the Frenchman who saw some
Germans at the mineral springs of Swalbach, getting used to drinking more and more
water by betting with each other, thought that this was a drinking game, a Sauffschule,
in which the Germans learned with water the art in which they were to excel with
wine .... The same principle is most useful in memorizing a speech verbatim; the first
phrase is read off first, then the first and second together, then the first, second, and
third, etc. This device is also used in some girls' games. It is remarkable how easily the
whole is memorized on this basis. The stern reader will forgive me for using these
trifling examples, if trifles help us to be more skilful in serious instruction.
16. So much for habituation or the cause of habits, even when the common sense is
lacking. 5 We must now come to teaching. To teach is to form a habit in a sentient being
as such, or through his sense. Hence this art as a whole is called didactic. For even
those who learn by themselves teach themselves; hence the name autodidact.
17. Teaching is to the soul as medicine is to the body of an animal. Just as the physi-
cian aims to heal (1) carefully, (2) swiftly, and (3) pleasantly, so the same things are
required in the care of the soul; teaching should be (1) sound, (2) swift, and (3)
pleasant ... .
18 .... Frequency of action makes teaching firmly implanted; magnitude makes it
quickly implanted. These causes are common to animate and inanimate habits, and
enough has been said about them.
19. But the last aim, to teach pleasantly, applies only to animate beings and must be
discussed here. For there is a unique basis for habituation in animals, which makes
them more capable of receiving instruction because they experience pleasure when they
excel and grief when they stop up their ears. In beasts this is accomplished by food and
petting, in man by utility (his food, as it were) and honor (his petting). But we have
already discussed these in Sections 6 and 7. 6
20. Learning is pleasant, moreover, not only if the ends proposed are pleasant, but
also if the met hods oflearning are pleasant. ...
21. We have spoken, first, of the cause of habit common to inanimate things,
beasts, and men, namely habituation (from Sees. 10 to 15); then of the cause of habit

common only to beasts and men, namely teaching. It remains to discuss the cause of
habit distinctive of men, education by principles.
22. Habits proper to men are either of memory, of invention, or of judgment. Hence
there is a threefold doctrine of these habits - mnemonics, topics, and analytics. For
propositions, which are of course distinctive of men only, can be memorized, made, or
judged. Topics and analytics, moreover, are to be combined in the single term logic,
so that the parts of didactics are mnemonics and logic. Methodology may well be added
to these. Mnemonics establishes the matter, methodology the form, and logic the
application of form to matter.
23. The basis of mnemonics is some perceptible thing called a sign, which is joined
by a definite relation to the thing to be remembered. This relation is either one of
comparison - namely, similarity or dissimilarity - or one of connection - such as that of
whole and part, part and part, cause to effect, and sign to thing signified. Thus words
are invented because it would otherwise be most difficult for men to remember things.
Words are not merely signs of my present thoughts to others but are also signs of my
past thoughts to myself, as Thomas Hobbes has shown at the beginning of his Elementa
de corpore. 7 Those signs are most mnemonic, moreover, which are most perceptible,
so to speak, such as words which are not merely heard but are heard with joy - for
example, songs and the termini clappantes, as they are commonly called, which boys
put together with great fitness in learning their vocabularies ....
24. The basis of the topics, or the art of invention, is the loci, that is, transcendent
relations such as whole, cause, matter, similarity, etc. As we have shown in our
Dissertation on the Art of Combinations, propositions are made from things connected
by any such relation through the combinatorial art. The contributions made to this
subject by Raymund Lully in various works and by Henry Bisterfeld in his Epitome
of the Art of Thinking are also not to be despised. 8
25. Analytics, or the art of judging, seems to me to be almost completely reducible
to two rules: (1) no word is to be accepted without being explained, and (2) no propo-
sition is to be accepted without being proved. These I believe to be far more absolute
than the four Cartesian rules in the First Philosophy9, the first of which is that whatever
I perceive clearly and distinctly is true. This is deceptive in endless ways.
26. Methodology, or the art of arranging, turns about method. A method is either
natural, in which case the rule is that if one thing can be known without a second, but
the second cannot be known without the first, the first should be put before the second;
or it is occasional, in which case no rule can be given, since such cases vary in endless
ways ....10
31. Now follow the habits of the mind. Every action of the mind is thought, for to
will is nothing but to think of the goodness of a thing. I I Furthermore, all thinking is of
some proposition. For mere simple terms are found only among beasts; the sense per-
ception [imaginatio] 12 of man is never without some reflection.
32. Every proposition is either singular (hence history; for example, a magnet holds
up the iron casket of Mohammed in Mecca - assuming for the sake of example that
this is true); or it is contingent and universal, depending on induction from singular
propositions (hence observation; for example, a magnet lifts iron); or it is necessary
and universal, demonstrable from the terms themselves (hence science; for example,
whatever moves is moved by some other thing, or, if a magnet lifts iron, there must be
corporeal effluvia passing from the magnet to the iron).13
32a. Hence history is the mother of observation. On its nature, constitution, and
classification Francis Bacon of Verulam is excellent in his incomparable treatise De
augmentis scientiarum and no less so in the brilliant Novum organum scientiarum. The
same materials involve history, observation, and theorems, science being the combi-
nation of these. For example: History: The wife of Fabius Maximus, who lived under
Augustus Caesar, was garrulous. Observation, topical: Women are garrulous. Theorem
or maxim: Do not trust a garrulous person with a secret. So we classify propositions
in general, not on the basis of the copula and signs, as in section 31, but on the basis of
their terms.
33. Terms are either simple or composite. Simple terms are those which cannot be
made clear by more familiar terms, because they are given immediately to sense, that
is, they are themselves sensible qualities. That which has sensible qualities, or is per-
ceptible, is called a being. This is the most perfect definition of being, for whenever we
wish to prove that something is, we do so by the fact that we or others sense it either in
itself, by immediate sensation, or mediated by the sensation of something else which
cannot be without it. Qualities taken together at the same time (or imaginability) con-
stitute essence; sensibility constitutes existence. From the thought of many beings
taken together there arise relations or the affections of being. 14 For the following kinds
of comparison arise from co-imaginability or co-essence: the same, different, similar,
dissimilar, contrary, genus, species, universal, singular. But from consensibility or
coexistence there arise the following forms of connection: whole, part, order, one,
many, necessary, contingent, togetherness, cause, etc. Universal metaphysics grows
from this.ls
34. Sensible qualities are of two kinds: some perceived in the mind alone, others in
fantasy or by means of mediating bodily organs. In the mind are perceived only two
sensible qualities: thought and causality.16 Thought is a sensible quality either of the
human intellect or of something 'I know not what' within us which we observe to be
thinking. But we cannot explain what it is to think any more than what white is or what
extension is. We conclude by demonstration that this quality is also in God and the
angels. Upon the sensible quality called thought is built logic, which is after meta-
physics the most noble science and one which Aristotle carried over by demonstration
into mathematical form.
35. The other sensible quality found in mind alone is causality - when it can be
proved demonstratively from an effect that it has some cause, even though latent. 17
This quality, abstracted from others such as motion and figure, is in the world cause or
God, as well as in the causes of certain miracles in the world, or angels, and finally, in
our own minds 18 as the cause of bodily motion. But we cannot explain the method of
causality. This is the subject matter of pneumatics, which deals with the external
actions of incorporeal being, as logic deals with their internal actions, or thought. Here
belongs also practical philosophy, or the doctrine of the pleasant and the useful, and of
justice or what is of common value in a community. To it belongs also the demonstra-
tion of the existence of God and of his attributes, of angels, and of an incorporeal mind
or immortal soul within us. My own thinking has arrived at mathematical certainty in
these matters through a remarkable principle which I hold to be far more important
for tranquillity of mind and faith in eternal life than if I had discovered perpetual
motion or the quadrature of the circle.
36. Qualities mediated by corporeal organs are either sensible or common to many

organs. The latter are number, which is perceived by all the external senses and is the
basis of arithmetic, and extension 19 with its various modes, which are perceived by
sight and touch only and are the basis of geometry. Whatever has another sensible
quality besides extension and number is called body. Whatever does not have this
added quality is called a vacuum. Here physics arises. 20 The most simple sense is touch,
however, through which we perceive motion. The general problem of physics is the
explanation of motion, because, as we shall show next, there is nothing in the other
qualities but a subtle motion, by which they can all be explained, if we assume exten-
sion. There are also special qualities of touch, such as solidity, fluidity, tenacity,
smoothness, etc. Facts should be gathered most diligently about these, and also
about light and colors, sounds, odors, and tastes, so that their causes in matter and
motion may be better known. .
37. The abstract philosophy of qualities is followed by a concrete philosophy about
the things into which these qualities coalesce. Here the qualities of things are surveyed
empirically and recounted; nothing is proved anew but merely subsumed from what
was previously demonstrated in the abstract philosophy. Here we are concerned with
God, angels, and our mind; with fire, vapors, meteors, water, and various kinds of
liquids; with earth and minerals, plants, and animals. Here then we survey, not the
connection of qualities to each other and to their subjects, but the connection of subjects
with qualities. This part of philosophy can be called eidographic; the preceding part,
poiographic.
38. Finally, we conclude with cosmography, in which the connection of subjects to
each other is expounded, and how they are distributed in the world.... Now I am sure
that I have exhausted everything in my classification of the disciplines and have
outlined the elements of the sciences briefly but soundly. 21 •••
REFERENCES
1 Leibniz had mastered the terms and much of the literature of alchemy as a member of the
Rosicrucian society in NUmberg.
2 Jerome Rorarius (1485-1556) was best known for his Quod animalia bruta saepe ratione
utantur melius homine. It was to the article on Rorarius in his Dictionary that Bayle later
attached his criticism of Leibniz's philosophy (Nos. 52 and 60). Justus Lipsius (1547-1606) was
a Flemish philologist and humanist; his Epistolarum centuriae duae was published in Leyden in
1591 and frequently republished.
3 Leibniz seems thus to accept witchcraft in 1667; later he commends the work of the Jesuit
Friedrich Spee (Cautio criminalis, 1631) and of the Protestant pietist Philip Jacob Spener, with
whom he began a correspondence while at Mainz, in opposing the widespread injustice of the
witch processes (cf. Theodicy, I, Sec. 97).
4 "Drops hollow out a stone, the ring is worn by use,
And by its pressure the ground wears away the crooked plough share."
The German proverb: 'The slow traveler gets there too.'
5 Aristotle's doctrine of the common sense (De anima iii. i. 425) appears in Leibniz and other
17th-century thinkers as active perception. See p. 294, note 2.
6 Leibniz mentions Comenius only once in the New Method but more frequently in his later
revision notes. The similarity of Sections 17-20 to the Analytic Didactic, Sections 128-60, is
striking. It will be observed that Leibniz discusses frequency, intensity, recency, and emotional
effect as factors in habituation many years before Locke's famous chapter on association. His
interpretation of these factors is functional rather than conceptual, and he is careful to dis tin-
guish such learning through habituation from the use of intelligence. This corresponds to his
later distinction between the empirical consecutions which men and animals have in common
and reasoning of the kind which is restricted to man.
7 De corpore, Book i, chap. ii.
8 Leibniz frequently criticized the effort of Raymond Lully (1235-1315) to found an Ars magna
in which all possible combinations of primitive concepts were to be explored. John Henry
Bisterfeld, professor at Leyden and follower of Comenius, was the source of many of Leibniz's
early opinions on methodology, particularly of his conception of harmony and a method of
discovery and judgment. Leibniz's notes on his works are printed in PA., II, i, 151-61.
9 Leibniz's reference to the Meditationes de prima philosophia is incorrect; the four rules
appear in the Discours de la methode, Part II.
Revision note of 1697-1700: " ... Two rules: (1) that no derivative notion is to be accepted
unless it is explained, and (2) no derivative proposition unless it is proved. Explanation takes
place through definition, proof through the syllogism, which provides a conclusion by force of
its form, even if it does not always make use of the Scholastic arrangement, and not everything
necessary to the conclusion is expressed, in order to avoid tedium. But it is no small matter to
have a way of reasoning infallibly on this basis if we do not avoid the effort involved. The rules
of Descartes are less adequate, however. Certainly the first one - that what is perceived clearly
and distinctly is true - is itself untrue (unless it be restricted on some ground), and proves, not
existence, but only possibility. Nor is it very useful, unless we already have the criteria of
clearness and distinctness which I once stated in a study on truth and ideas [No. 33]. This is not
the place to explain which notions and truths are derivative, which primitive, and which it is
sometimes useful to treat as primitive."
10 Sections 27-30 discuss bodily habits.
11 Revision note: "To will is nothing but the striving [conatus] arising from thought, or to
strive for something which our thinking recognizes as good. Every thought is put in an enun-
ciation or proposition or an affirmation or negation. For the use of even simple terms involves
an affirmation of their possibility, and the act of reflection recognizes something active in
ourselves."
12 The reader should be warned against the many meanings of imaginatio, which range from
imagination through sense perception to intuition. In general, the term implies the activity of
mind as opposed to sensation and is therefore more closely related to intellect than now. cr.
p. 138, note 5; and p. 553, note 3.
13 Leibniz's distinction between truths offact and truths of reason, or contingent and necessary
propositions, is not clearly developed until about 1679, when his logic has supplemented the
strongly empirical emphasis in the present work.
14 Revision note: "So it can be said that the essence of a thing is its distinct conceivability (or
imaginability) by us; its existence is its distinct perceptibility (or sensibility). For the composite
of its qualities taken together constitutes the essence of a thing; its perceptibility proves its
existence; that is, if a thing is not actually sensed, there is no thing."
15 Revision note: "From this grows metaphysics as a whole, to which the doctrine of quantity
and quality in their widest sense can be referred, in logistics and the art 0/ combinations, respect-
ively. The former deals with propositions and their calculus (and hence with the one and the
many, the whole and its parts), the latter with forms (or similarity and orders of determination).
Logistics or the science of quantity makes use of infinite as well as finite magnitude. Determi-
nate number belongs to arithmetic, indeterminate to algebra. I have begun to build a science of
the infini te through the invention of a new calculus; until now we have had only scattered bits
of this."
16 Revision note: "Only two qualities are perceived in mind: perceptivity (or the power of
perceiving) and activity (or the power of acting). Perception is the expression of many things in
one, or in simple substance; if it is combined with the reflection of the percipient, it is called
thought. We judge perception to apply not only to us but also to other living or organic beings,
and thought to be not only in us but also (and, indeed, most perfectly) in God. This quality of
the percipient is treated in logic, which, it happens, is at once a noble science in itself and
serves other sciences as instrument by carrying the theorems of metaphysics into practice in
investigating other truths."
17 Revision note: "Activity or force is perceivable in the mind alone; that is, the state of a thing
from which change follows. We experience this intimately in ourselves, but also infer it in
others from its effects. There is a double force - that of acting and that of resisting. The former
is immaterial, the latter material, which resists action through it does not act unless impelled
from without. Immaterial forces are the separate intelligences, as well as primary souls or
entelechies in bodies. The simple, maximum exercise of force is conatus toward action."
Notes 5 and 6 on p. 90 show how early Leibniz had formulated the psychological basis of
his monadology. The shift from thought and causality to perception and force reflects the
changes in his thinking in 1679 and the years immediately following.
18 Revision note: " ... as the cause of change in us, which we can also say is in a certain sense
the cause of the motion of the body, though it is difficult to explain how it acts. Perhaps, like
others, we should attribute this power of acting externally, not to the influx of the mind into
the body or to the reaction of the body, but to God, who affects the body at the bidding of the
mind or rather, who has, according to this opinion, so formed all things from the beginning
that they respond to each other in time. Yet there remains the force of the action itself, insofar
as the external changes follow the will of the soul in accordance with this divine institution.
Conatus is itself of two kinds - that of a simple or of a composite thing. A simple thing is a
percipient, and the conatus of the percipient as such is also called appetite, in a thinking being
will. ... In a composite being or a body, conatus is motive force; mechanics deals with this."
19 Revision note: " ... extension and resistance. Number is perceived by all of the external
senses, but because it is also perceived by the internal sense, and even more so, arithmetic is
more rightly subordinated to metaphysics. Extension, which is perceived by sight and touch
only, involves number, but adds situation to it, or the order of coexistence, and hence adds
quality to quantity. Thus figures arise as modifications of extension; hence geometry."
20 It may be pointed out that in this empirical account of the structure of these categories
Leibniz is not developing a theory of their ontological status. On the question of a vacuum, for
instance, he is uncertain for a long time. See No.3.
21 Sections 39-42 contain a chronological account of the educational process which begins
with infancy and ends at the age of 20. Leibniz prepared many more classifications of the
sciences, particularly in his studies for the universal encyclopedia. The best-known discussion
is in the New Essays, Book IV, chap. XXI.
3
LETTER TO JACOB THOMASIUS

April 20/30, 1669*
Jacob Thomasius had been one 0/ the more influential 0/ Leibniz's teachers at Leipzig.
Though he seems to have lectured only on rhetoric while Leibniz was in the university, he
supervised his first dissertation, De principio individui; and the letters which Leibniz
wrote to him after leaving Leipzig show the high respect which the pupil had/or his master.
Leibniz's intention 0/ reconciling the ancient and the new philosophy appeared early
in his thought. This letter contains an effort to show Aristotle consistent with the modern
philosophers rather than with the Scholastics. It was evoked by his comment on Thoma-
sius' Origines historicae philosophiae et ecclesiasticae. the second edition 0/ which ap-
peared in 1669 and was for long one 0/ the most accurate histories 0/ancient philosophy.
Leibniz thought well enough 0/ this letter to have it printed at the end 0/ his pre/ace
to the Nizolius edition in 1670 (No.8). in which related matters were discussed. The
letter is here translated in the/orm in which Thomasius received it, with the exception 0/
certain obscure passages which even he apparently could not understand. 1 At these points
substitutions have been made from the version 0/1670.
[G., I, 15-27; IV, 162-74]
The 'foretaste' of a history of philosophy which you have written has set all our
mouths to watering more than I can tell you, for it shows clearly how great a difference
there is between a mere enumeration of names and such profound reasons as you give
for the interconnections between doctrines. You know that I am no flatterer. But
wherever I hear people who understand these matters speak of your essay, they are
unanimous in saying that there is no one from whom we can better hope for the entire
history of philosophy than from you. Most of the others are skilled rather in antiquity
than in science and have given us lives rather than doctrines. You will give us the
history of philosophy, not of philosophers. Joseph GJanvill's history of the growth of
the sciences since Aristotle is said to be in press in England. 2 But I believe that in gen-
eral he will trace only the mathematics, mechanics, and physics of the more note-
worthy periods and so detract nothing from you. I wish, indeed, that you would
produce both a style and a method [stilum filumque] for this new age and warn our
unseasoned youth that it is wrong to give our moderns credit either for everything
or for nothing. Baghemin is not the only one whom you ought to criticize 3; there are
Patricius, Telesius, Campanella, Bodin, Nizolius, Fracastori, Cardan, Galileo, Bacon,
Gassendi, Hobbes, Descartes, Basso, Digby, Sennert, Sperling, Derodon, Deusing.
and many other names among whom the mantle of philosophy is torn apart. It will be
play for you, but fruitful for the public, to remind the world of them.
Who would disagree with your estimate of Baghemin?4 There is no elegance in his
hypotheses, no consistency in his reasoning, but only utterly monstrous opinions.

Unless he has something useful to say in specific physical observations, certainly he

had better remain silent. It seems to me that the parents of his opinion that God is
primary matter are Scaliger, Sennert, and Sperling - for he professes also to be a
disciple of the latter - who affirm that forms are produced, not from the passive power
of matter, but from the active power of an efficient cause. From this they conclude that
God produces creatures rather from his own active power than from the objective and,
so to speak, passive power of nothing. In their opinion, therefore, God produces
things out of himself and is thus the primary matter of things. But you will judge more
correctly on this subject.
I agree with you completely in regard to Descartes and Clauberg, that the disciple is
clearer than the master. But on the other hand, I should venture to say that hardly
any of the Cartesians have added anything to the discoveries of their master. Certainly
Clauberg, Raey, Spinoza, Clerselier, Heerbord, Tobias Andreae, and Henry Regius
have published only paraphrases of their leader. However, I am calling Cartesians only
those who follow the principles of Descartes; such great men as Bacon, Gassendi,
Hobbes, Digby, and Cornelius van HoghelandeS, who are commonly confused with
the Cartesians, are definitely to be excluded from their number, since they were either
equals or even superiors of Descartes in age and in ability. As to myself I confess that
I am anything but a Cartesian. I maintain the rule which is common to all these reno-
vators of philosophy, that only magnitude, figure, and motion are to be used in ex-
plaining corporeal properties. Descartes himself, I hold, merely proposed this rule of
method, for when it came to actual issues, he completely abandoned his strict method
and jumped abruptly into certain amazing hypotheses. Vossius rightly criticizes him
for this in his book on light.
Hence I do not hesitate to say that I approve of more things in Aristotle's books on
physics 6 than in the meditations of Descartes; so far am I from being a Cartesian! In
fact, I venture to add that the whole of Aristotle's eight books can be accepted without
injury to the reformed philosophy. This by itself meets your arguments about the
irreconcilability of Aristotle and the modems. For the most part Aristotle's reasoning
about matter, form, privation, nature, place, infinity, time, and motion is certain and
demonstrated, almost the only exception being what he said about the impossibility
of a vacuum and of motion in a vacuum. For to me it seems that neither a vacuum nor
a plenum is necessary; the nature of things can be explained in either way. Gilbert,
Gassendi, and Guericke argue for a vacuum; Descartes, Digby, Thomas White, and
Clerke in his book on the plenitude of the world, for a plenum; Thomas Hobbes and
Robert Boyle for the possibility of either. I admit that the rarefaction of things is
difficult to explain without a vacuum, though it is possible. 7 I have recently seen a book
by Jean Baptiste du Hamel, a learned Frenchman, on the agreement of the old
philosophy and the new, which was published lately in Paris. In it he brilliantly explains
the hypotheses of some of the best-known ancient and recent thinkers and often criti-
cizes them with discernment. He also says a good bit about the divisions of opinion
concerning the vacuum.
For the rest, scarcely any sane man will question the many other arguments of
Aristotle in his eight books on physics and in the whole of his metaphysics, logic, and
ethics. Who would disagree, for instance, with his theory of substantial form as that
by which the substance of one body differs from that of another? Nothing is more
true than his view of primary matter. The one question is whether A ristotle's abstract
theories of matter, form, and change can be explained by magnitude, figure, and
motion. This the Scholastics deny and the philosophical reformers affirm. The latter
opinion seems to me to be not only the more true but also the more consistent with
Aristotle. Let me discuss each briefly.
First, about Aristotle. The Scholastics have strangely perverted his meaning; no one
knows this better than you, distinguished Sir, who were the first to bring many errors
of this kind to light. Since not only you acknowledge this, but also Soner and Dreier in
metaphysics, Viotti, Zabarella, and Jung in logic, and Jason Denores, Piccart, Conring,
Felden, Durr, and many others in civil law; why, I ask, shall we not expect the same
or even worse in physics, where aid must be sought from the senses, from experience,
and from mathematics - instruments which the Scholastics, shut up in their monas-
teries, lacked almost entirely? It is therefore probable enough that they were wrong in
physical matters; what if I show that it is even more, namely, certain? This can be done
in two ways. It can be shown either that the reformed philosophy can be reconciled
with Aristotle's and does not conflict with it or in addition, that the one not only can
but must be explained through the other, nay, that the very views which the modems
are putting forth so pompously are derived from Aristotelian principles. The former
way establishes the possibility of their being reconciled; the latter, the necessity. But if
the reconciliation is shown to be possible, it is by that fact also accomplished. Even if
the interpretations of both Scholastics and modems were possible, the clearer and
more intelligible of two possible hypotheses must always be chosen, and without any
doubt this is the hypothesis of the modems, which conceives no incorporeal entities
within bodies but assumes nothing beyond magnitude, figure, and motion. I cannot
better show this possibility of reconciling the two than by asking for any principle of
Aristotle which cannot be explained by magnitude, figure, and motion.
Primary matter is mass itself, in which there is nothing but extension and antitypy
or impenetrability.8 It has extension from the space which it fills. The very nature of
matter consists in its being something solid and impenetrable and therefore mobile
when something else strikes it, and it must give way to the other. Now this continuous
mass, which fills the world while all its parts are at rest, is primary matter, from which
all things are produced by motion and into which they are reduced through rest. There
is no diversity in it but only homogeneity, except through motion. Hence all the knots
of the Scho lastics are already untied. First, they ask about its entitative actuality prior
to all form. The reply must be that it is a being prior to all form, since it has its own
existence. For whatever is in some space exists, and this cannot be denied of mass
itself, even if it entirely lacks motion and discontinuity. But the essence of matter or
the very form of corporeity consists in antitypy or impenetrability. Matter has quan-
tity too, though this is indefinite, or interminate as the Averroists call it. For being
continuous, it is not cut into parts and therefore does not actually have boundaries.
But it does have extension or quantity. Everything fits together wonderfully, not as
concerns the extrinsic limits of the world or the mass as a whole, but as concerns the
intrinsic limits of its parts.
Let us pass from matter to form in good order [per dispositiones]. Here too every-
thing agrees remarkably if we assume that form is nothing but figure. For since figure
is the boundary of a body, a boundary is needed to introduce figure into bodies. But a
discontinuity of parts is necessary in order to have a variety of boundaries arising in
matter. For by the very fact that parts are discontinuous, each one will have separate

boundaries, since Aristotle defines the continuum as things whose limits are one
[WV't"tIeUxa-ra 8V].9 But discontinuity can be introduced into the formerly continuous
mass in two ways - first, in such a way that contiguity is at the same time destroyed,
when the parts are so pulled apart from each other that a vacuum is left; or in such a
way that contiguity remains. This happens when the parts are left together but moved
in different directions. For example, two spheres, one included in the other, can be
moved in different directions and yet remain contiguous, though they cease to be con-
tinuous. This makes it clear that, if mass were created discontinuous or separated by
emptiness in the beginning, there would at once be certain concrete forms of matter.
But, if it is continuous in the beginning, forms must necessarily arise through motion.
(I am not now speaking of the annihilation of certain parts to secure a vacuum in
matter, since this is supernatural.) For division comes from motion, the bounding
of parts comes from division, their figures come from this bounding, and forms from
figures; therefore, forms come from motion. From this it is clear that every arrange-
ment into a form is motion, and the vexatious problem of the origin of forms is
answered. The distinguished Herman Conring could only answer to this problem,
in a special dissertation, that forms arise from nothing. 10 We shall say that they
arise from the power of matter, not by producing something new, but merely by
taking away something old and causing boundaries through a division of parts, just
as anyone who makes a column does nothing but remove the superfluous parts. What
is left after the rest has been removed takes on, by this very fact, the figure which we
call a column. For all the figures or forms which are contained in the mass lack only
determination and actual separation from the others which adhere to them, If this
explanation is adopted, all the arguments advanced against the origin of forms from
the power of matter itself become child's play and trifles.
It now remains for us to come to change. Changes are commonly and rightly classed
as generation, corruption, increase, decrease, alteration, and change of place or
motion. l l Modern thinkers believe that these can all be explained by local motion
alone. In the first place, the matter is obvious in the case of increase and decrease, for
change of quantity occurs in a whole when a part changes its place and is either added
or taken away, We need only to explain generation, corruption, and alteration through
motion. I observe in advance that numerically the same change may be the generation
of one being and the alteration of another; for example, since we know that putre-
faction consists in little worms invisible to the naked eye, any putrid infection is an
alteration of man, a generation of the worm. Hooke shows similarly in his Micro-
graphia that iron rust is a minute forest which has sprung up; to rust is therefore an
alteration of iron but a generation of little bushes. Moreover, generation and corrup-
tion, as well as alteration, can be explained by a subtle motion of parts. For example,
since white is what reflects the most light and black is what reflects the least, those
things whose surfaces contain many small mirrors will be white, This is why foaming
water is white, for it consists of innumerable little bubbles, and each bubble is a mirror,
while before, the water as a whole was but one mirror - just as there are as many
mirrors as there are fragments when a glass mirror is broken. This is also why pounded
glass is whiter than when it is intact. Similarly, water broken into distinct mirrors by
bubbles therefore becomes white, and this is also the reason why snow is whiter than
ice, and ice than water. For it is false that snow is condensed water; it is rather rarefied
and therefore is lighter than water and occupies more space. The sophism of Anaxa-
goras about black snow is to be refuted in this way. Such considerations make it clear
that colors arise solely from a change of figure and position in a surface. If we had space,
it would be easy to explain light, heat, and all qualities in the same way.
Now if qualities are changed by motion alone, substance will also be changed by
that very fact, for a thing ceases to be if all, or even some, of the qualities requisite to it
are changed. For example, if you remove either light or heat, you destroy fire. And you
accomplish both by stopping motion. This is why a covered fire will die for lack of the
air which feeds it, not to speak of the fact that an essence differs from its qualities only
in relation to sense. Just so, the same city presents one aspect if you look down upon it
from a tower placed in its midst; this is as if you intuit the essence itself. The city appears
otherwise if you approach it from without, which is as if you perceive the qualities of
a body. And just as the external aspect of a city varies as you approach it differently,
from the west or from the east, the qualities of a body vary with the variety of
our sense organs. 12 From this it is evident that all changes can be explained by motion.
It is no objection that generation occurs in an instant while motion involves suc-
cession, for generation is not motion but the end of motion; the motion is already
finished at that instant, for a certain figure is produced or generated at the very last
instant of motion, as a circle is produced in the final moment of a revolving motion.
This also makes clear why the substantial form consists in something indivisible and
cannot be increased or decreased. For neither can a figure be increased or decreased.
Even if one circle is greater than another, one circle is not more circle than another,
for the essence of a circle consists in the equality of all lines drawn from its center to
its circumference. But equality itself consists in an indivisible; nothing can be more or
less equal. Nor should the objection be made that figure and magnitude are accidents,
for they are not always accidents. Fluidity may, for example, be an accident of lead,
for lead flows only in fire, but it belongs to the essence of mercury. Now the cause of
fluidity is undoubtedly the free curved figure of parts, whether they be spherical,
cylindrical, oval, or spheroid. Therefore the curved figure of its subtle parts is an
accident of lead, but essential to mercury. The reason for this is that all metals arise
from mercury fixed by saIts, while the nature of salts consists in rectilinear shapes
adapted to rest. Thus if we dissolve salts in water and let them crystallize freely, some
crystals appear as tetrahedrons, others as hexahedrons, octahedrons, etc., as chemists
know, but none appears round or curvilinear. Hence the saIts are the cause of fixity,
and the acid salts mixed with the smallest parts of mercury in the bowels of the earth
impede the freedom of the curvilinear parts by inserting themselves between them and
produce metal. But in fire the metal returns to the nature of mercury, for fire, inserting
itself between the smallest parts, frees the curvilinear particles of mercury from the
plane-sided salts; hence metal flows in the fire. So there is obviously almost nothing in
Aristotle's physics which cannot be readily explained and made clear through the
reformed philosophy.
These examples, moreover, have occurred to me spontaneously while writing this;
others are collecting many more throughout the whole of natural philosophy. I have
no fear that you will ascribe what I have said to my following too closely the accounts
and authority of Raey.13 I had thought this way long before I had even heard of Raey.
I have read him, of course, but in such a way that I now scarcely recall what he said.
Nor is he the first or the only one to reconcile Aristotle with modem philosophy.
Scaliger seems to me to have paved the way, and in our own times Kenelm Digby and

his follower Thomas White - the former in a book on the immortality of the soul, the
latter in his peripatetic institutions - have dealt explicitly with the same thing, long
before Raey. Abdias Trew and particularly Erhard Weigel are in harmony with them. 14
So far it has been shown only that the two positions can be reconciled; it still remains
to show that they ought to be. For what does Aristotle discuss, in the eight books of
the Physics, besides figure, magnitude, motion, place, and time? If the nature of body in
general can be explained in terms of these, then the nature of a particular body must
be explained in terms of a particular figure, a particular magnitude, etc. In fact, he
himself says in the Physics, Book iii, Section 24, that all natural science concerns magni-
tude (with which figure is, of course, associated), motion, and time. He also says,
repeatedly, that the subject of physics is movable bodies and that natural science deals
with matter and motion. He does, it is true, make the heavens the cause of all that
takes place in the sublunary realm. But the heavens, he says, act on the inferior
realms only through motion. Moreover, motion produces only motion or the limits of
motion, which are magnitude and figure, and from these result position, distance,
number, etc. Everything in nature must therefore be explained through these. This
same Aristotle says frequently, as for instance, in the Physics, Book i, Section 69, that
the relation of bronze to the statue is the same as that of matter to form.
For the rest, I have proved that figure is a substance, or rather that space is a sub-
stance and figure something substantive, because all science deals with substance, and
it cannot be denied that geometry is a science. You have replied that you can produce a
passage in which Aristotle denies that geometry is a science more quickly than I can
produce one in which he affirms that it is. I have no doubt, distinguished Sir, that there
are certain passages in Aristotle which can be stretched or twisted to this end. Yet I
think that these are outweighed by countless other admissions of his. For what occurs
more frequently in all the books of the Analytics than examples from geometry? He
seems to have intended geometric demonstrations to serve as patterns for the rest, so to
speak. Now it would be absurd to make the less noble a pattern for the more noble.
The Scholastics, in fact, thought so meanly of mathematics at first that they made every
effort to exclude it from the number of the perfect sciences, chiefly on the ground that
it does not always demonstrate from causes. But, if we consider the matter more
accurately, it will be seen that it does demonstrate from causes. For it demonstrates
figures from motion; from the motion of a point a line arises, from the motion of a line
a surface, from the motion of a surface a body. The rectangle is generated by the
motion of one straight line along another, the circle by the motion of a straight line
around an unmoved point, etc. Thus the constructions of figures are motions, and
the properties of figures, being demonstrated from their constructions, therefore come
from motion, and hence, a priori, from a cause. Geometry is thus a true science, and,
Aristotle not to the contrary, its subject, which is space, is a substance.
Nor is it so absurd that geometry should deal with the substantial form of bodies.
For note the passage in Aristotle's Metaphysics, Book xiii, Section 3, in which he says
expressly that geometry disregards material, final, and efficient cause; this being
assumed, it follows that it deals either with substantial or with accidental form. But it
does not deal with accidental form, since the real definition of an; accidental form
involves a subject in which it inheres, or matter. But Aristotle says that geometry disre-
gards matter. Therefore geometry deals with substantial form. So there occurs to me,
as I write this, a beautiful harmony among the sciences; namely, that under careful
examination it appears that theology or metaphysics deals with the efficient cause of
things, or mind; moral philosophy, whether ethics or law (for as I learned from you,
these are one and the same science), deals with the final cause of things, or the good;
mathematics (I mean pure mathematics, for the rest is a part of physics) deals with
the form or idea of things, or figure; physics deals with the matter of things and the
unique affection resulting from the combination of matter with the other causes, or
motion. For mind supplies motion to matter in order to achieve a good and pleasing
figure and state of things for itself. Matter in itself is devoid of motion. Mind is the
principle of all motion, as Aristotle rightly saw.
For to come to this problem, Aristotle seems nowhere to have imagined any sub-
stantial forms which would themselves be the cause of motion in bodies, as the Scho-
lastics understood them. 15 He does indeed define nature as the principle of motion and
of rest and calls form and matter nature, though form more so than matter. But from
this it does not follow, as the Scholastics contended, that form is a kind of immaterial
being, though insensible in bodies, which spontaneously imparts motion to a body, for
example, downward motion to a stone, without the help of an external thing. For form
is indeed the cause and principle of motion, but not the primary one. No body moves
unless it is moved from without, as Aristotle not only rightly says but demonstrates.
For example, assume a sphere to be on a plane. If it is once at rest, it wlll not move by
itself in all eternity, unless an external impulsion is added, for example, another
body. In that case the other body is the cause of the impressed motion, while the
sphere's figure or sphericity is the cause of the received motion, for if this sphericity
had been absent, perhaps for this occasion only, the body would not give way so
easily to the other one. This shows that the Scholastic concept does not follow from
the Aristotelian definition of form. I admit therefore that form is the principle of
motion within its own body, and that body is itself the principle of motion in another
body. But the first principle of motion is the primary form, which is really abstracted
from matter, namely mind, which is at the same time the efficient cause. Hence free-
dom and spontaneity belong only to minds. Therefore it is not absurd that of the
substantial forms only mind should be designated as the first principle of motion, all
the others receiving their motion from mind. And as I said, Aristotle regards it as
certain that no body has a principle of motion within itself alone l6 , and it is by this
argument that he ascends to the prime mover.
You make two answers to this objection. First, that this argument has no effect
against Epicurus, who ascribes spontaneous downward motion to his atoms. I admit
that the argument has no effect against him unless it be first proved to him that it is
absurd and impossible for a body to receive motion from itself, a thing which Cicero
has already done, if I am not mistaken, in his books on the nature of the gods, where
he elegantly ridicules Epicurus for introducing something into his hypothesis in this
way, without cause or reason. For there is 17 no 'downward' in the nature of things, but
only in relation to us, nor is there any reason why any body should move in one
direction rather than another. So we shall easily reply to Epicurus when he denies that
whatever moves is moved by something external to itself and vindicate the certainty
which we seek for the existence of God.
Your second objection is that Aristotle seems to have reasoned not so much from
the axiom that the principle of motion is outside the body which is moved but rather
from another, that there is no infinite progression. But consider carefully, honored Sir,

whether he does not in fact need the combination of both. For unless it be admitted
that whatever moves is moved from without, we shall obviously arrive at no progres-
sion at all, to say nothing of one to infinity. For your adversary will attack your very
beginning and respond that any given body suffices to produce its own motion through
its substantial form and that hence no mover is necessary, certainly not a prime mover.
So the ladder would collapse at the very bottom step, its foundation, as it were,
removed. Furthermore, Epicurus too admitted an infinite progression; so we must
consider not so much what Epicurus did or did not admit but what can be demonstrated
with certainty.1s
Now that we have reconciled the reformed philosophy with Aristotle, it remains to
show its truth per se in the same way that the Christian religion can be proved by
reason and experience as well as from sacred scripture. It must be proved that there
are no entities in the world except mind, space, matter, and motion. A thinking being,
I call mind. Space is a primary extended being or a mathematical body, which contains
nothing but three dimensions and is the universal locus of all things. Matter is a
secondary extended being, or that which has, in addition to extension or mathematical
body, also a physical body, that is, resistance, antitypy, solidity, the property of filling
space, and impenetrability, which consists in its being constrained either to give way
to another being of this kind which strikes it or to stop it. Motion therefore comes
from this quality of impenetrability. So matter is a being which is in space or coexten-
sive with space. Motion is change of space. But figure, magnitude, situation, number,
etc., are not entities really distinct from space, matter, and motion but are merely
properties brought about within space, matter, motion, and their parts by a super-
vening mind. I define figure as the limit of the extended; magnitude, as the number of
parts in the extended. I define number as one and one and one, etc., or as unities.
Situation reduces to figure, for it is a configuration of a plurality. Time is nothing but
magnitude of motion. Since all magnitude is a number of parts, why should it be
surprising that Aristotle defined time as the number of motion?
Heretofore these terms have merely been explained, however, and the sense in which
we are using them interpreted; nothing has been proved. Let us now show that we
need no other things to explain the phenomena of the world and to determine their
possible causes - indeed, that there cannot be other things. However, if we show that no
other things are necessary besides mind, matter, space, and motion, this will itself
make it clear that the hypotheses of those recent thinkers, who use only these to
explain phenomena, are the better ones. For it is a defect in hypotheses to assume
what is unnecessary. A reading of recent philosophers does in fact show sufficiently
that everything in the world can be explained in these terms alone, and my exposition,
above, of the possibility of reconciling Aristotle with them is thereby confirmed. It
must also be noted that those hypotheses are better which are clearer. The human
mind can in fact imagine nothing other than mind (when it thinks of itself), space,
matter, motion, and the things which result from the relations of these terms to each
other. Whatever more you add to them is only words which can be spoken and var-
iously combined but not explained or understood. Who can imagine a being which
partakes neither of extension nor of thought? So what need is there to assume incor-
poreal souls in beasts and plants, substantial forms for the metallic elements, without
extension and thought? 19 Campanella in his book De sensu rerum et magia and Marcus
Marci on operative ideas were wrong but consistent with their own hypotheses, and
therefore more correct, in ascribing sense, knowledge, imagination, and will to the
substantial forms of inanimate things. The occult philosophy of Agrippa is not unlike
this; he assigns an angel to everything as its obstetrician, so to speak. Scaliger's
discussion of the plastic power and its wisdom is also similar. Thus we return to as
many little gods as there are substantial forms - to a heathen polytheism. In fact, all
those who speak of these incorporeal substances of bodies cannot explain what they
mean without a translation into terms of mind. 20 Hence they ascribe to them appetite,
or21 a natural instinct from which natural knowledge arises. The result is such
axioms as these: nature does nothing in vain; everything avoids its own destruction;
nature strives for continuity; like enjoys like; matter desires a nobler form; and others
of this kind, though there is in fact no wisdom in nature and no appetite; yet a beauti-
ful order arises in it because it is the timepiece of God. From these considerations it is
clear that the hypotheses of the reformed philosophy are superior to those of the
Scholastics, in that they are not superfluous but on the contrary clear.
It remains to prove by more subtle reasoning, that in explaining the nature of bodies
we cannot assume any other entities than those which I have named. This is done as
follows. Everyone calls that a body which is endowed with some sensible quality.
Many of these sensible qualities can be removed from the body in such a way that it
remains a body nevertheless. For even if a body lacks color, odor, taste, it is still
called a body. You will admit that air, for example, is a body, although it is transparent
and frequently lacks color, taste, and odor. Similarly the air is a body even when it
lacks sound. Therefore those qualities that can be seen, heard, tasted, and smelled
may be rejected as not at all constituting the nature of a body. The problem is thus
reduced to the tactile qualities. In fact, such primary qualities as heat, humidity,
dryness, and cold can be absent individually; heat can be absent from water, humidity
from earth, dryness from air, and cold from fire, yet each of these may be a body.
That the other tactual qualities, for example, smoothness, lightness, tensity, etc., do
not constitute the nature of a body is generally admitted, and appears from the very
fact that they are called secondary and therefore arise from others which are constitutive,
and also because there is not one of them which cannot be absent from a body. It
remains therefore to seek some sensible quality which occurs in all bodies and only in
bodies and by which men may distinguish body from nonbody, as if by a criterion.
Beyond any doubt this is mass or antitypy, together with extension. For whatever men
sense as extended, they do not at once call it a body, for they sometimes consider it a
mere appearance or phantasm - thought it is in fact always a body and has antitypy,
even when this quality may appear to our intellect only, not to our senses. But
they do call a body what they not only see but also touch, that is, what they discover
has antitypy, and they deny this name to whatever lacks antitypy. Whether learned or
ignorant, therefore, men find that the nature of body consists in two things - extension
and antitypy together. The former we derive from sight, the latter from touch, and by
the combination of both senses we usually ascertain that things are not phantasms. To
be extended, however, is nothing else but to be in space, and antitypy is the impossi-
bility of being in the same space with another thing, but one or the other having to
move or be at rest. The nature of body therefore evidently is constituted by extension
and antitypy, since there is nothing in things without a cause, and nothing ought to be
supposed in bodies whose cause cannot be discovered in their first or constitutive
principles. But this cause cannot appear unless these principles are well defined. There-
For references ;'ee p. 103

fore we can assume nothing in bodies which does not follow from the definition of
extension and antitypy. But from these concepts are derived only magnitude, figure,
situation, number, mobility, etc. Motion itself is not derived from them. Hence there
is no motion, strictly speaking, as a real entity in bodies. I have demonstrated, instead,
that whatever moves is continuously created and that bodies are something at any
instant in assignable motion, but that they are nothing at any time midway between the
instants in motion - a view that has never been heard of until now but which is clearly
necessary and will silence the atheists. Hence it is clear that the explanation of all
qualities and changes must be found in magnitude, figure, motion, etc., and that heat,
color, etc., are merely subtle motions and figures.
As for the rest, I venture to assert that atheists, Socinians, naturalists, and skeptics
can never be opposed successfully unless this philosophy is established. I believe this
philosophy is a gift of God to this old world, to serve as the only plank, as it were,
which pious and prudent men may use to escape the shipwreck of atheism which now
threatens US. 22 Though my acquaintance with learned men has been very slight and
recent, I shudder when I think how many I have met who are at once brilliant thinkers
and atheists. An unpublished book by Bodin is being circulated from hand to hand
(and like Naude, I wish that it would never be published); a most effective work,
which he calls "the secret of sublime things" 23 and in which he is the professed enemy
of the Christian religion. The dialogues ofVanini are child's play compared to it. I have
read it carefully, and I thank God with all my heart for instructing me in these philo-
sophical defenses, by which I was able easily to tum back his shafts. I should be ungrate-
ful, however, if I denied my debt to you for many of them. The efforts which the
enlightened Spizel is once more exerting to eradicate atheism must be praised. I believe
you have seen his letter about this argument, which was published at this book fair.
Listen to an experience which I had in connection with him. In a period of leisure, but
working in the confusion of an inn, I once wrote about two sheets in which I tried to
demonstrate, more accurately than usual, the immortality of the soul and the existence
of God. I sent these sheets to a friend who passed them on to the reverend Mr. Spener,
a pastor in Frankfurt, with their authorship properly concealed. Spener sent them to
Spizel, and Spizel recently attached them to the end of his letter to Anton Reiser on
the eradication of atheism, with the title Confession of Nature against A theists. 24
I do not disapprove, but I regret that the sketch was printed most incorrectly; the
sorites particularly, in which I tried to prove the immortality of the soul, was thrown
into great confusion by changing the beginnings of the lines. Spizel admitted that he
did not know who the author was. I should appreciate a judgment about the reasoning
in the demonstration. I do not seek praise but criticism, since it is in the interest of
religion not to be defended perfunctorily. Meanwhile I have already penetrated much
more deeply, I think, into both problems, for you wiIl not read there what I have found
out since about the perpetual creation involved in motion, and about the innermost
nature of a thinking being or a mind. 25 '"
For the rest, distinguished Sir, I have discussed this whole matter with you at greater
length, because I have no more learned and equitable judge of these things. Since you
have thrown light into all the comers of ancient learning, and do not spurn the discov-
eries of the modems when they are worthy, you alone of all men can best explain them
and examine this. For you are right in holding that although new opinions may be
offered and their truth most convincingly shown, we ought almost never to depart from
the generally accepted terms. If the Scholastics had done this, we would not be in
difficulty now. Farewell, ornament of our land, and may you not only complete your
lucidly developed theories but publish them. For many ofthem are both conceived and
carried through with rare felicity of mind.
REFERENCES
* The double date at the head of many of Leibniz's letters is to be explained by the calendar
reform then being carried out (cf. Introduction, note 1). Following the report of his astrono-
mers, Pope Gregory XIII had directed that 10 days be dropped from the calendar. This was
done at once in all Catholic countries, in 1600 in Scotland, in 1700 in the Protestant states of
Germany (Leibniz himself helping to bring about the change), but not until 1752 in England.
The earlier date is therefore 'old style' (in use in Protestant countries in general, though not
in Germany after 1700), the latter 'new style', in Catholic countries. Leibniz was in this case
in Catholic Mainz, Thomasius in Protestant Leipzig.
1 See below, note 18.
2 Joseph Glanvill's Plus ultra. or the Progress and Advancement of Knowledge since the Days of
Aristotle, appeared in 1668. Leibniz in 1679 adopted the title tentatively for his encyclopedia.
3 In his preceding letter Thomasius had mentioned a certain Baghemin of Stettin, who had
asked the theological and philosophical faculties for a criticism of his new philosophy (G., I,
14).
4 The 1670 version reads: "Who would disagree with your judgment on the opinion that
considers God as the primary matter of the world?"
5 In the 1670 version Spinoza is removed from the list of Cartesians, and Galileo added to and
van Hoghelande removed from the non-Cartesians.
6 Leibniz uses the Greek title nepi </>vulTdi<; OxpOrxU8Wr;.
7 Guericke's demonstration of the vacuum had taken place in 1654 and was well known,
though Leibniz, in corresponding with him in 1671, was still urging publication of his discovery.
8 Leibniz's term is massa; thus Mach (The Science of Mechanics, 5th ed., p. 366) is in error in
saying that he used this term only in 1695 and "probably borrowed it from Newton". His use
is not, of course, Newtonian, though both men vary in their use of the term, sometimes
regarding it as synonymous with matter, sometimes using it as a specific measure of a physical
property. Note, however, that Leibniz uses it to mean extension and antitypy or impenetra-
bility; he has not yet adopted Kepler's and Galileo's definition of mass as essentially inertia
(cf. E. Hoppe, Geschichte der Physik, Munich 1913, p. 61).
The term tlV'rl'rvnia is a permanent favorite of Leibniz's. It was used for hardness by Plutarch
and Sextus Empiricus.
9 Metaphysics 1068b;Physics 231a21f.
10 In a marginal note to the 1670 version Leibniz says, "Conring said the contrary." The letter
to Conring, given in No. 18, alludes to this misunderstanding.
11 For Aristotle's analysis of motion see Physics viii and Metaphysics xii.
12 The figure of the city's perspectives is one of the most happy of Leibniz's figures; it is not
usually recognized that the view from the tower represents an absolute essence. The distinction
between the essence of a substance and its qualities, or between essence and modes, is basic in
Leibniz's logic and metaphysics, supporting his use of an intentional logic and his doctrine
of substance.
13 Jean de Raey (d. 1702) had tried to synthesize Aristotle and Descartes in his Clavis philo-
sophiae naturalis seu introductio ad naturae contemplationem Aristotelico-Cartesianam (1654).
Thomasius had implied (G., 1,12) that Leibniz was influenced by him.
14 The works referred to are Julius Caesar Scaliger, Exotericarum exercitationum liber (1537)
(a criticism of Cardan); Kenelm Digby (1603-65), Demonstratio immortalitatis animae ratio-
na/is (1664); Thomas White (or Albus, Anglus, Candidus) (1582-1676), Institutiones peripate-
ticarum ad mentem summi c1arissimique philosophi Kene/mi Equitis Digbaei (1646); Erhard
Weigel (1625-99), Analysis Aristotelica Euclidea (1658) (Weigel had been Leibniz's teacher at
Jena and influenced his mathematical ideas greatly); Abdias Trew (1597-1669), Directorium
mathematicum (1657). On Scaliger see below, p. 130, note 3.
15 In Leibniz's mature thougllt substantial forms are active principles, but he frequently says
that he returned to them after a mechanistic period in which he had abandoned them. And he
does not, like the Scholastics, ascribe them to inorganic bodies. Insofar as he substantializes
form (i.e., figure) in this letter, it amounts to an extension of the concept of substance to include
geometric form; this is therefore a rejection of the Scholastic usage, but not like his later
theory. See also No.5, III, and p.120, note 18.
16 The sentence thus far is omitted in G., I, 23, but restored in the 1670 version (G., IV, 170).
17 Reading esse for ese (G., I, 23).
18 The following 15 lines in G., I, 23-24, were received by Thomasius himself in a corrupted
form, as his marginal notations, according to Erd., indicate. They were omitted in the 1670
edition and are omitted here.
19 Following the version of 1670.
20 This sentence is omitted entirely from G., I, 25. Leibniz's criticism of active principles in
inorganic nature, here directed at the Scholastic theory of substantial forms, as well as against
Thomas Campanella (1568-1639), De sensu rerum et magia Iibros quattuor (1620), and Marcus
Marci of Kronland (1595-1667), Philosophia vetus restituta (1662), is continued throughout his
later writings. Campanella, Marcus Marci, and Scaliger all advocated creative ideas or powers
of some kind in nature.
21 Reading vel (1670) for et (1669).
22 In the 1670 version Leibniz completes the paragraph from this point as follows: "I have
argued this matter in an extemporaneous sketch which I put in the hands of Theophilus
Spizel. Thougll it did not deserve it, he sewed it, like a tattered patch on royal purple, to his
recently published letter to Reiser on the eradication of atheism, with the title, A Confession of
Nature against Atheists" (cf. No.5, I).
23 Jean Bodin's Colloquium heptaplomeres de abditis rerum sublimium arcanis, a dialogue on
religious tolerance, was not published until 1857. Leibniz's wish was thus almost fulfilled. His
later judgment on the work was more favorable (Guh. L., I, Notes, p. 14).
24 See No.5, I. Philipp Jacob Spener (1635-1705) was one of the founders of pietism, a pastor
in Frankfurt after 1666, where he founded the Collegia Pietatis in 1670. He was later famous as
pastor of the Nicolaikirche in Berlin. Theophilus Spizel (1639-91) was a Lutheran clergyman
and scholar.
25 Leibniz's theory of 'continuous creation' here seems merely to mean the source of all motion
in God and is therefore very similar to the Cartesian opinion which he later criticized (cf. to
De VoIder, No. 55, I), A short paragraph alluding to obscure current events is omitted.
4
LETTER TO THOMAS HOBBES

July, 1670
Hobbes's early influence on Leibniz is conspicuous, though Couturat has adequately

refuted Tonnies' effort to trace his logical method back to the English thinker (Cout. L.,
pp. 457-73). Leibniz was much impressed by both the De corpore and the De cive but
sought to supplement them, the former with an Elementa de mente, the latter with a
theological arguments for justice as the will ofthe most powerful, namely God.
Leibniz's youthful and flattering attempt to begin an exchange of letters failed, both
at this time and later when he tried again in Paris. The letter presents his opinions about
Hobbes in exaggerated form but is of interest also for his physical views at a period
between that of the letter to Thomasius (No.3) and the Theory of Abstract Motion of
1671.
[G., VII, 572-74]1
Mainz, July 13/22, 1670

Most esteemed Sir,
To my great delight I recently learned from the letters of a friend visiting in England
that you are still alive and in full health at so great an age. Hence I could not refrain
from writing. If my doing so is inopportune, you can punish it by silence; for me it will
still suffice to have given witness of my feeling. I believe I have read almost all your
works, in part separately and in part in the collected edition, and I freely admit that
I have profited from them as much as from few others in our century. I am not given to
flattery, but everyone who has had the privilege of following your writings on the
theory of the state will acknowledge, as I do, that nothing can be added in such
brevity to its admirable clearness. There is nothing more polished and better adapted to
the public good than your definitions. Among the theorems which you deduce from
them there are many which will remain established. There are some who have abused
them, but I believe that in most cases this occurred because the right principles of
application were ignored. If one were to apply the general principles of motion - such,
for example, as that nothing begins to move unless it is moved by another body, that a
body at rest, however large, can be impelled by the slightest motion of a moving body,
however small, and others - if one were to apply these by an ill-timed leap to sensible
things, he would be derided by the common man unless he had demonstrated in ad-
vance, and to minds prepared for it, that for the most part bodies which seem to be at
rest are insensibly in motion. Similarly, if one were to apply what you have demonstra-
ted about the state and republic to all groups which are commonly called by that name,
and what you attribute to the supreme power to all who claim for themselves the name
of king, prince, monarch, or majesty, and your views about complete freedom in the
state of nature to all cases in which citizens of different states transact certain affairs
among themselves; then, ifl am not mistaken, he too would be very much in error about

your opinion. For you acknowledge that there are many communities on earth which
are not one state but a confederation of many and that there are many titular monarchs
to whom others have never transferred their will. Nor will you deny that, assuming a
ruler of the world, there can be no purely natural state of man which would place him
beyond the pale of any community, since God is the common monarch of all; and that
certain men are therefore wrong in ascribing license and impiety to your hypotheses.
As I have said, I have always understood your works in this way, and I acknowledge
that I have received great light from them in carrying out a work on rational juris-
prudence on which I am collaborating with a friend. For I observed the unbelievable
subtlety and soundness of expression with which the Roman jurisconsults gathered
their answers which are preserved in the Pandects - qualities in which your own
writings strongly resemble theirs. I realized that a large part of them were arrived at
almost entirely by demonstration from the law of nature alone and that the rest were
deduced with the same degree of certainty form a few principles which were arbitrary,
it is true, but drawn from the practice of the Republic. When I first set my feet in the
paths of jurisprudence, therefore, I began four years ago to work out a plan for
compiling in the fewest words possible the elements of the law contained in the Roman
Corpus (in the manner of the old Perpetual Edict), so that one could, so to speak,
finally demonstrate from them its universal laws. There are many laws which will
prove refractory to this method, especially in the Imperial Rescripts,because they do
not belong to natural law. However, these are clearly discernible among the rest and
will be counterbalanced by the multitude of the others - especially since I venture to
assert that half of the Roman law is mere natural law. And it is well known that almost
all of Europe uses this law wherever it has not been distinctly invalidated by local
custom.
But I must confess that I sometimes vary these long and tedious concerns with other
more pleasant ones, for I also have the habit of sometimes meditating upon the nature
of things, though this is like being carried into a foreign world. I have been thinking
about the abstract principles of motion, where the foundations which you have laid
seem to me remarkably justified. I agree absolutely with you that one body is not
moved by another unless the latter touches it and is in motion and that, once begun,
every motion continues unless impeded by something. Yet I confess that there are
certain matters about which I have hesitated, especially about this: I have not found
that you account clearly for the cause of consistency, or what is the same thing, of
cohesion in things. For if, as you seem somewhere to suggest, reaction is the sole cause
of cohesion, there will be a reaction even without an impact, since reaction is motion in
opposition to a pushing body, but the impact does not produce the opposition to
itself.2 But reaction is a motion of the parts of a body from its center outward to its
circumference. This motion is either unimpeded or impeded. If unimpeded, the parts of
the body will move outward and so depart from the body to which they belong, which
is contrary to experience. If impeded, the motion of reaction will stop unless it is
revived by external help of a kind which you do not generally find here. I do not men-
tion that it can hardly be explained what cause it is that moves any single body to
strive [eonor] from center to circumference in every sensible point, or how the reaction
of the body struck can alone be the cause of the impetus of the rebound increasing with
the impetus of the striking body - while it would be consistent with reason for a
greater impetus of incidence to diminish the reaction. But perhaps these small doubts of
mind have arisen because I do not sufficiently understand your views. I should think
that the conatus of the parts toward each other, or the motion through which they press
upon each other, would itself suffice to explain the cohesion of bodies. For bodies which
press upon each other are in a conatus to penetrate each other. The conatus is the be-
ginning; the penetration is the union. 3 But when bodies begin to unite, their limits or
surfaces are one. Bodies whose surfaces are one, or ra 8uxara 8V\ are according to
Aristotle's definition not only contiguous but continuous, and truly one body, movable
in one motion. You will recognize that, if there is any truth in these thoughts, they will
change many things in the theory of motion. It remains for me to show that bodies
which press upon each other are in a conatus to penetrate. To press is to strive into the
place hitherto occupied by another body. Conatus is the beginning of motion, and
therefore the beginning of existence in the place into which the body is striving. To
exist in a place in which something else exists is to have penetrated it. Therefore
pressure is the conatus of penetration. But there can hardly by anyone more accurate in
examining demonstrations than are you, distinguished Sir, and you will judge these
matters more exactly. 5 •••
For the rest, I wish that we might hope for a kind of collection of your thoughts
from the publication of your works up to the present time, especially since I have no
doubt that you have reasoned out the principles involved in so many of the new
experiments which you and doubtless many other men of genius have produced in
recent years - principles which it would be in the interest of mankind not to lose.
I wish also that you had expressed yourself more distinctly about the nature of
mind. For though you have rightly defined sensation as a permanent reaction, as I
said a little earlier, there is no truly permanent reaction in the nature of mere corporeal
things. It only appears so to the senses but is in truth discontinuous and is always
stimulated by a new external cause. So I fear that when everything is considered, we
must say that in beasts there is no true sensation, but only an apparent one, any more
than there is pain in boiling water; and that true sensation such as we experience in
ourselves cannot be explained by the motion of bodies alone - especially since you
never demonstrate, so far as I know, the proposition which you use so often, to the
effect that every mover is a body. 6
But I am burdening you too long with my trifles! I shall stop now, since my witness
has been given. And I shall always profess, both among friends and, God willing, also
publicly (since I am myself a writer), that I know no one who has philosophized more
exactly, clearly, and elegantly than you, not even excepting that man of divine genius,
Descartes himself. I wish that you, my friend, who of all mortals could best do it, had
taken into consideration what Descartes attempted rather than accomplished - that
you had ministered to the happiness of mankind by confirming the hope of immor-
tality. May God preserve you still a very long time to achieve this task.
REFERENCES
1 This is the text copied by F. T6nnies from the original letter in the British Museum. The text
in G., I, 82-85, is inaccurate.
2 Hobbes's discussion of the reaction of bodies in impact is in the De corpore, Book III, chap.
XV, Sec. 2, thought he does not, as Leibniz implies, explain cohesion by means of it.
a We have retained the original term conatus, though Hobbes himself rendered it 'endeavor'.
Like Hobbes, Leibniz at first identifies it with minimal motion; only much later, after his
own distinction between force and motion, does it become 'dead force'.
4 Seep. 103, note 9.
5 A short paragraph on the origin of springs is omitted.
6 The denial of sensation to the lower animals suggests a Cartesian influence; Leibniz soon
drops it, however, for the view expressed in 1671 that there is a striving in all being but that its
essential combination with memory or reflection becomes the distinguishing feature of mind as
against matter (cf. No.7, I, Sec. 17, and No. 10).
5
THEOLOGICAL WRITINGS RELATED TO THE

CATHOLIC DEMONSTRATIONS
1668-70
Leibniz's concern with theology was greatly stimulated by the Roman Catholic pietism
of the court at Mainz. In this early period his chief theological interests were to prove the
existence of God, to justify his ways with men, to establish the proofs of immortality,
and to demonstrate the essential agreement of Catholic and Protestant doctrines of the
Eucharist. Both law and physics were held to support theology, law deriving its ultimate
base from the divine harmony, and the nature of bodies, their cohesion and motion, pro-
viding an infallible demonstration of the existence ofimmaterial order and power.
The project of a definitive apology for Christianity, to be called the Demonstrationes
Catholicae, arose out of discussions with Baron Boineburg in 1669 or 1670 and was later
revived at Hanover in 1679. 1 As planned in 1669, this work was to consist of a series
of philosophical prolegomena and four parts. The prolegomena were to include logic,
metaphysics, physics, and practical philosophy. The parts were to deal in order, with the
demonstrationfor the existence of God, the demonstration of immortality, the proof of the
Christian mysteries, and a demonstration of the authority of the church and scripture.
Leibniz's turn to Platonism at this time is reflected in his summary of the proposed chapter
Ii of Part III, which also refutes the common charge that his concern with religion was
purely political in motive: "The beatific vision or intuition of God face to face is the con-
templation ofthe universal harmony of things, because God or universal mind is none other
than the harmony of things or the principle ofbeauty within them." 2
The occasion for writing the first of the three following selections is given in the letter
to Thomasius (No.3). The proof of the existence of God may be compared with that in
No.1, l. The other two selections are probably preliminary studies intended for Parts II
and III of the Catholic Demonstrations, respectively, included here for their bearing on
Leibniz's psychology and his doctrine of ideas.
I. THE CONFESSION OF NATURE AGAINST ATHEISTS

1669
[G., IV, 105-10]
Part l. That Corporeal Phenomena Cannot Be Explained
without an Incorporeal PrinCiple, That Is God
Francis Bacon of Verulam, a man of divine genius, has rightly said that casually sam-
pled philosophy leads away from God but that drunk more deeply, it leads back to
him.3 This is confirmed in our own century, which is fruitful alike of science and of
impiety. For through the admirable improvement of mathematics and the approaches
which chemistry and anatomy have opened into the nature of things, it has become

apparent that mechanical explanations - reasons from the figure and motion of bodies,
as it were - can be given for most of the things which the ancients referred only to the
Creator or to some kind (I know not what) of incorporeal forms. The result was that
truly capable men for the first time began to try to save or to explain natural phenom-
ena, or those which appear in bodies, without assuming God or taking him into their
reasoning. Then, after their attempt had met with some little success, though before
they arrived at foundations and principles, they proclaimed, as if rejoicing prematurely
at their security, that they could find neither God nor the immortality of the soul by
natural reason, but that in these matters faith must rest either on civil laws or on his-
torical records. This was the judgment of the most acute Mr. Hobbes, whose great
discoveries should earn for him our silence on this matter if his authority had not
explicitly affected this view for the worse. Unfortunately there are others who have
gone even further and who now doubt the authority of the sacred scriptures and the
truth of history and the historical record, thus bringing an unconcealed atheism into
the world.
It seemed to me unworthy for our mind to be blinded in this matter by its own light,
that is, by philosophy. 1 began therefore myself to undertake an investigation, and alI
the more vigorously as 1 became more impatient at being dispossessed by the subtle-
ties of these innovators of my life's greatest good, the certainty of an eternity after
death and the hope that divine benevolence would sometime be made manifest toward
the good and the innocent.
Setting aside all prejudices, therefore, and suspending the credit of scripture and
history, 1 set my mind to the anatomy of bodies, to see whether the sensory appearance
of bodies can be explained without assuming an incorporeal cause.
At the beginning 1 readily admitted that we must agree with those contemporary
philosophers who have revived Democritus and Epicurus and whom Robert Boyle
aptly calls corpuscular philosophers, such as Galileo, Bacon, Gassendi, Descartes,
Hobbes, and Digby, that in explaining corporeal phenomena, we must not unnecessa-
rily resort to God or to any other incorporeal thing, form, or quality
(Nec Deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus inciderit) 4
but that so far as can be done, everything should be derived from the nature of body
and its primary qualities - magnitude, figure, and motion.
But what if 1 should demonstrate that the origin of these very primary qualities
themselves cannot be found in the essence of body? Then indeed, 1 hope, these natu-
ralists will admit that body is not self-sufficient and cannot subsist without an incorpo-
real principle. 1 will prove this without obscurity or detours.
For if these qualities cannot be derived from the definition of a body, they ob-
viously cannot exist in bodies left to themselves. Every reason for an affection must be
derived either from the thing itself or from something extrinsic to it. But a body is
defined as that which exists in space. All men call what they find in some space a body,
and conversely, they find what they call a body in space. s This definition consists of
two terms, 'space' and 'to exist in'.
On the term 'space' are based the magnitude and figure of a body, for a body has
the same magnitude and figure as the space which it fills. But there remains a doubt as
to why it fills this much space and this particular space rather than another; for ex-
ample, why it should be three feet long rather than two, or why square rather than
round. This cannot be explained by the nature of bodies themselves, since the same
matter is indeterminate as to any definite figure, whether square or round. Therefore
only two replies are possible. Either the body in question must be assumed to have been
square from all eternity, or it has been made square by the impact of another body - if,
that is, you refuse to resort to an incorporeal cause. If you say it has been square from
all eternity, you give no reason for it, for why should it not have been spherical from
all eternity? Eternity cannot be considered the cause of anything. But, if you say that it
was made square by the motion of another body, there remains the question of why it
should have had any determinate figure before such motion acted upon it. And if you
refer the reason for this, in turn, to the motion of another body as cause, and so to
infinity, each of your replies wiII again be followed by a question through all infinity,
and it wiII become apparent that this basis for asking about the reason for each reason
will never be removed, so that no full reason for the figure wiII ever be given. Therefore
it appears that the reason for a certain figure and magnitude in bodies can never be
found in the nature of these bodies themselves.
We said that the definition of a body has two terms - 'space' and 'existence-in' - and
that though the term 'space' involves some magnitude and figure, it does not involve a
determinate magnitude and figure. Motion pertains to existence-in-this-space, for
when a body begins to exist in a different space than it did before, this very fact implies
that it is moved. Considering the matter more accurately, however, it becomes clear
that mobility arises from the nature of a body but that motion itself does not. Since the
body is in this space, it can also be in another space equal and similar to the first, that
is, it can be moved. For to be able to be in another space than at first is to be able to
change space, and to be able to change space is to be movable. For motion is change of
space. Actual motion, however, does not arise from existence-in-space; this involves
rather the contrary when a body is left to itself, namely, permanence in the same space,
or rest. Therefore no reason for motion can be found in bodies left to themselves.
Hence it is futile to try to escape as do those who give the following reason for motion:
that every body either moves from all eternity or is moved by another body which is
contiguous to it and in motion. For if they say this body moves from eternity, there is
no clear reason why it should not rather have rested from all eternity, since time, even
if infinite, cannot be thought of as a cause of motion. But if they say that this body is
being moved by another body contiguous to it and in motion, and this again by another,
and so without end, they still have given no reason for the first, and second, and third,
or anyone whatever being moved, as long as no reason is given for the consequents
being moved, which does not also apply to all the antecedents being moved. For the
reason for a conclusion is not fully given as long as no reason is given for the premise,
especially since the same doubt remains in this case without end.
Thus it has been sufficiently demonstrated, I think, that there can be no determinate
figure and magnitude, or any motion whatever, in bodies left to themselves. Because it
is a matter for further investigation, I shall remain silent here on the question of
whether anyone has heretofore derived the firmness of bodies from their nature
itself.
By the firmness of bodies we mean (1) that a large body does not give way to a small
one which pushes it; (2) that bodies or their parts cohere with each other, this being
the basis for those tactile qualities commonly called secondary, namely solidity and
fluidity, hardness and softness, smoothness and roughness, tenacity and fragility,

friability, ductility, malleability, and fusibility; and (3) that a hard body is reflected when
it strikes another which does not give way. In brief, three properties constitute firm-
ness: resistance, cohesion, and reflection. I shall be glad to call anyone a great philo-
sopher who can explain these by means of the figure, magnitude, and motion of bodies.
There appears to be only one way - to assume that a body resists another which strikes
it, and rebounds from the blow, because its surface parts are insensibly moved in the
collision. But let us assume that the striking body approaches the other, not along the
line in which the parts of the body are to meet the blow, but in another, perhaps
oblique to it; then according to this view all reaction, resistance, and reflection will
cease at once, which is contrary to experience. But cohesion clearly cannot be explained
through reaction and motion. If I push part of a paper, the part which is pushed gives
way; therefore no reaction or motion of resistance can be assumed. But not only does
it give way; it also carries with it the remaining parts which adhere to it. It is indeed
truly and with good reason that Democritus, Leucippus, Epicurus, and Lucretius of old,
and their modem followers, Peter Gassendi and John Chrysostum Magnenus, asserted
that the whole cause of cohesion in bodies may be explained naturally through the
interweaving of certain shapes such as hooks, crooks, rings, projections, and in short,
all the curves and twists of hard bodies inserted into each other. But these interlocking
instruments themselves must be hard and tenacious in order to do their work of holding
together the parts of bodies. Whence this tenacity? Must we assume hooks on hooks to
infinity? Yet whatever reason there is for questioning this in the first case will exist
also in the second and third, and so without end. There remains only one answer which
these most subtle philosophers can make to such objections; they may assume certain
indivisible corpuscles, which they call atoms, as the ultimate elements of bodies, which,
by their varied shapes, variously combined, bring about the various qualities of sensible
bodies. But no reason for cohesion and indivisibility appears within these ultimate
corpuscles.
The ancients offered one, but it was so inept that their recent followers are ashamed
of it, namely, that the parts of atoms cohere because no vacuum comes between them.
From this it would follow that all bodies, once they touch each other, ought to cohere
inseparably in the manner of atoms, since there can be no intervening vacuum when
any two bodies touch. Nothing is more absurd than such perpetual cohesion or more
foreign to experience. In explaining the atoms, we may therefore rightly resort to God,
who endows with firmness these ultimate elements of things. I marvel that neither
Gassendi nor any other of these most acute philosophers of our century has noticed
this excellent opportunity to demonstrate the divine existence. For through the ultimate
analysis of bodies, it becomes clear that nature cannot dispense with the help of
God.
But since we have demonstrated that bodies cannot have a determinate figure,
quantity, or motion, without assuming an incorporeal being, it readily becomes
apparent that this incorporeal being is one for all because of the harmony of things
among themselves, especially since bodies are moved not individually by this incorpo-
real being but by each other. But no reason can be given why this incorporeal being
chooses one magnitude, figure, and motion rather than another, unless he is intelligent
and wise with regard to the beauty of things and powerful with regard to their obe-
dience to his command. Therefore such an incorporeal being will be a mind ruling the
whole world, that is, God.
Part II. The Immortality of the Human Mind,

Demonstrated in a Continuous Sorites
The human mind is a being, one of whose actions is thinking.
If one of the actions of a being is thinking, one of its actions is immediately percep-
tible, without supposing parts in it.
For thought is (1) a thing that is immediately perceptible, mind being immediate
to itself when it perceives itself thinking. (2) Thought is a perceptible thing without
awareness of parts. This is clear from experience. For thought is that 'something,
I know not what' which we perceive when we perceive what we think. But when, for
example, we perceive that we have thought of Titius, we not only perceive that we
have the image of Titius in our mind, for this has parts, of course; such an image is not
enough for thinking.
For we have images in the mind even when we do not think of them, but we perceive,
besides, that we have been aware of this image of Titius, and in this awareness of our
images itself we find no parts. 6
Assume a being performing a certain action which is immediately perceptible,
without a perception of its parts. Then this certain action is a thing without parts;
For a quality immediately perceived in a thing actually belongs to it, since:
The cause of error is the medium, for if an object of perception were the cause of
error, it would always be perceived falsely; if the subject were the cause, it would
always perceive falsely.
If something has for one of its constituents a thing without parts, then one of its
actions must be other than motion;
For all motion has parts, by Aristotle's demonstration and common agreement.
A being whose action is not motion is not a body;
For all bodily action is motion, since every action of a thing is a variation of its
essence, and the essence of a body is being in space.
But motion is a variation of existence in space.
Therefore every action of a body is motion.
Whatever is not a body is not in space; for to be in space is the definition of a body.
Whatever is not in space is not movable, for motion is change of space.
Whatever is immovable is indissoluble, for dissolution is the motion of a part.
Everything indissoluble is incorruptible, for corruption is internal dissolution.
Everything incorruptible is immortal, for death is corruption of the living, or
dissolution of its fabric, through which self-moving things obviously move them-
selves.
Therefore the human mind is immortal. Q.E.D.
II. A FRAGMENT ON DREAMS 7

[PA., VI, ii, 276-78]
The power of persuasion consists sometimes in giving reasons, sometimes in moving the
affections, and sometimes, at the heart of both of these as it were in the art of attracting
attention. This consists in certain distinct rules. For we do not carry out most of the
things which we know, because we do not pay attention between our actions. But
attention is nothing but reflection.

Sleep differs from waking in that when we are awake everything is directed, at least
implicitly, toward an ultimate goal. But in dreaming there is no relation to the whole
of things. Hence to wake up is nothing but to recollect [reeolligere] one's self, to think
as follows: Die cur hie? Sich besinnen. 8 To begin to connect your present state with the
rest of your life or with you yourself. Hence we have this criterion for distinguishing
the experience of dreaming from that of being awake - we are certain of being awake
only when we remember why we have come to our present position and condition and
see the fitting connection of the things which are appearing to us, to each other, and
to those that preceded. In dreams we do not grasp this connection when it is present,
nor are we surprised when it is absent. It is to be noted, however, that now and then
the dreamer himself observes that he is dreaming, yet the dream continues. Here he
must be thought of as if he were awake for a brief interval of time, and then, once
more oppressed by sleep, returned to his previous state. It is also to be noted that
some men can wake themselves up, and it is a familiar experience of mine that, when
some pleasing vision presents itself, I notice that I am dreaming and try my eyes and
pull them open with my fingers to admit the light. We should also think about the
cause of sensations of falling out of bed, which are popularly ascribed to lapses into
sin, and which occur sometimes, and to some people, almost between the limits of
sleep and waking, so that they are suddenly awakened at the very moment of falling
asleep. Sometimes when this has happened to me, I can scarcely persuade myself to
fall asleep all night. For in the first moment of falling asleep, I suddenly recollect my-
self and, sensing this fact, leap up. Nor ought we to overlook the spontaneous ejection
of semen without any contact in sleep; in wakers it is expelled only when they are
strongly agitated, but in sleep the spirits are moved internally by a strong imagination
alone and without any rubbing of the members. I have also heard this confirmed by a
physician.
Hobbes says that everything appears as present in sleep and that therefore there is
no judgment or wonder, but only the occurrence of appearances, as of things observed
by the eyes when they are awake and not closed. But, you say, surely we often expe-
rience judgment or reflection in dreams, or at least a knowledge of the past which
involves judgment, for we both deliberate and remember. But I reply that in dreams
we do not do this anew, about the appearances as they are presented, but that a
judgment presents itself in a dream only if it is a judgment about the presented ap-
pearance which comes from an earlier thought and now recurs as a whole, even
though we do not know that it contains the earlier thought. For entire conversations
occur to us which are certainly not without judgment, and even dialogues and argu-
ments, not because we are now making judgments about them, but because judgments
already made recur with the experiences themselves.
There is one very remarkable thing in dreams, for which I believe no one can give a
reason. It is the formation of visions by a spontaneous organization carried out in a
moment - a formation more elegant than any which we can attain by much thought
while awake. To the sleeper there often occur visions of great buildings which he has
never seen, while it would be difficult for me, while awake, to form an idea of even the
smallest house different from those I have seen, without a great amount of thought.
I wish I could remember what marvelous discourses, what books and letters, what
poems beautiful beyond all doubt, but never previously read, I have read in dreams
without my shaping them at all, just as if they had just been composed and offered to
my sight. This is known:

Hac sunt in fossa
Bedae Venerabilis ossa. 9
The dream of a poetic monk substituted this word for the unfitting word presbyter.
Noteworthy, too, is what Colomesius tells in his lesser works about a song which
Gaulminus dreamed about the immortality of the soul. I do not believe that there is a
mortal man who would not confess to me that there have often occurred to him while
he dreamed, spontaneously and as if made in a moment, elegant visions and skilfully
fashioned songs, verses, books, melodies, houses, gardens, depending upon his inte-
rests - visions which he could not have formed without effort while awake. Even such
unnatural things as flying men and innumerable other monstrosities can be pictured
more skilfully than a waking person can do, except with much thought. They are
sought by the waker; they offer themselves to the sleeper. There must therefore
necessarily be some architectural and harmonious principle, I know not what, in our
mind, which, when freed from separating ideas by judgment, turns to compounding
them. 10 A reason must be given why we do not remember waking experiences in a
dream but do remember the dream when awake.
III. ON TRANSUBSTANTIATION
1668(7)
[PA., VI, i, 508-12]
With the help of God, we have undertaken to show the possibility of the transub-
stantiation of bread and wine into the body of Christ who suffered for us, which the
Catholic church teaches occurs at the time of consecration. It is to be demonstrated,
accordingly, that:
1. Bread and wine, losing their own substance, acquire the substance of Christ's
body;
2. and become everywhere numerically identical with it,
3. only their appearance or accidents remaining;
4. the substance of Christ's body being present in all places where the appearance of
consecrated bread and wine exists.
This proof depends on the interpretation of the terms 'substance', 'appearances' or
'accidents', and 'numerical identity', which we develop on the basis of their meanings
as accepted by the Scholastics, but which we explain clearly.
(I)
1. Substance is being which subsists in itself.
2. Being which subsists in itseljis that which has a principle of action within itself.
Taken as an individual, being which subsists in itself, or substance (either one), is a
suppositum. In fact, the Scholastics customarily define a suppositum as a substantial
individual. Now actions pertain to suppositaY Thus a suppositum has within itself a
principle of action, or it acts. Therefore a being which subsists in itself has a principle
of action within it. Q.E.D.
3. If that which has a principle of action within itself is a body, it has a principle
of motion within itself. Every action of a body is in fact motion, because every action

is a variation of essence. So every action of a body is a variation of the essence of body.

But the essence or definition of a body is being in space. Accordingly a variation in the
essence of body is a variation of existence in space. But variation of existence in space
is motion. Thus every action of a body is motion. Q.E.D ....
4. No body has a principle of motion within itself apart from a concurrent mind.
This has been demonstrated in Part I of the Catholic Demonstrations, where the
existence of God is proved.
5. Therefore no body is to be taken as substance, apart from a concurrent mind.
6. Whatever is not substance is accident or appearance.
7. Hence body is accident or appearance apart from a concurrent mind.
8. Something is substance when taken together with a concurrent mind; something
taken apart from concurrent mind is accident. Substance is union with mind. Thus the
substance of the human body is union with the human mind, and the substance of
bodies which lack reason is union with the universal mind, or God. The idea is the
union of God with creature. 12
9. Thus the substance of body is union with a sustaining mind.
10. That whose substance is in its union with a concurring mind is transsubstan-
tiated when its union with the concurring mind is changed.
12.'3 Hence bread and wine as bodies, when the concurrent mind is changed, are
substantiated into the body of Christ, or taken up by Christ (inasmuch as the special
concourse of the mind of Christ which takes on the bread and wine, in addition to its
body, is substituted for the general concourse of the universal or divine mind with all
bodies). Q.E.D.
(II)
13. If a body consecrated and appropriated by the mind of Christ has the same
concurrent mind as the glorious body of Christ who suffered for us,
14. it has numerically the same substantial form or the same substance as the body
of Christ who suffered for us, by No.9.
15. Accordingly the bread and wine in transubstantiation are the numericaIly
identical substance as the body of Christ who suffered for us. Q.E.D.
(III)
16. A body which is thus transubstantiated is changed in no way except in the
substantial form or idea of the concurring mind, by No.9.
17. That in which nothing is changed except the concurrent mind can retain all its
qualities or accidents or, if you prefer, species. For mind is compatible with all acci-
dents which do not receive or lose essence through it, but only action.
18. Therefore all accidents or species are preserved in the transubstantiated bread
and wine; extension, firmness, color, odor, etc., can remain. Q.E.D.
(IV)
19. AIl mind lacks extension. See the Catholic Demonstrations, Part II.
20. Whatever lacks extension is not coextensive with space. '4
21. Whatever is not coextensive with space is not in a place by itself.
22. Mind is therefore not in a place by itself.
23. Mind acts upon a body which is in space.
24. To this degree, therefore,itcan be said to be in space by operation. St. Thomas. 1S

25. Every action of a mind is thought.
26. Mind can think many things together.
27. Therefore mind can by its action be in many places at once.
28. Therefore the mind of Christ can impart operation, action, or subsistence both
to the glorious body of Christ and to the species of consecrated bread and wine, at the
same time, and in varying cases in various p laces on the earth.
29. Hence the mind of Christ can be present everywhere in the species of conse-
crated bread and wine.
30. The mind of Christ, concurring in his glorious body which suffered for us, is his
substance, by No.9.
31. Therefore the substance of the glorious body of Christ can be present every-
where in the species of bread and wine. Q.E.D.
These theorems of ours differ very little from the accepted philosophy. In Aristotle,
nature is the principle of motion and of rest. But substantial form is properly nature
in the same philosopher. Hence Averroes, Angelus Mercenarius, and Jacob Zabarella
also assert that substantial form is the principle of individuation. Those who locate the
nature of subsistence in the union of matter and form, like Murcia, agree with this as
well. 16 •••
Our Scholastics will be embarrassed, I believe, not by the contents of this but by the
words. I seem to hear them speaking as follows: "What? You who presume to demon-
strate the possibility of transsubstantiation, do you expect to satisfy the Church with
terms chosen at your own pleasure? After all, you must use the terms 'substance',
'transubstantiation', 'accident', 'species', and 'identity' in that sense which the
Council of Trent is believed to have favored, and there is no doubt that this council
favors that which the chorus of Scholastics has observed. Unless you adhere to this,
you deserve the sentence of the Church; you show the mind of a heretic."
Right, 0 Scholastics! But your warning is too late, since I have already done what
you require. For neither my conception of identity, nor that of transsubstantiation,
nor of accident or species is an innovation. This from the preceding demonstration.
For I demonstrate the numerical identity of substance from the numerical identity of
substantial form, in conformity with the principles of the noblest Scholastic and
Aristotelian philosophers, those for whom substantial form is the principle of indivi-
duation. 1 ? I define transubstantiation as change of substantial form. I call appearance
whatever can be thought of in a real body deprived of substantial form, that is, matter
taken with its accidents. I call substance an entity subsisting in itself. An entity which
subsists in itself is the same as what the mass of Scholastics mean by suppositum. For
a suppositum is a substantial individual - as, for instance, a person is a rational sub-
stantial individual - or a certain substance in particular. Moreover, the School has
generally established it as a property of suppositum that it is itself denominated by
action; hence the rule that actions belong to supposita. It is clear from this that the
suppositum, substance, or entity which subsists in itself - which are all the same thing-
is defined correctly in the Scholastic sense also, as that which has a principle of action
within itself, for otherwise it would not act but be an instrument of some agent. From
this it follows further that substantial form is itself a principle of action 18; in bodies,
of motion. To make the consistency appear even greater, the same interpretation of
substantial form follows from another principle of Aristotle and the Scholastics. For

Aristotle himself, and the noblest of his followers, agreed that substantial form is
nature. Nature is the principle of rest and motion. Therefore, even in Aristotle's sense,
substantial form is the principle of rest and motion.
A different objection will perhaps be made which is not to be despised, namely, that
it follows from this hypothesis that there is one substantial form for all bodies, the
concurrent divine mind. But this does not follow. For although the divine mind is the
same, the concurrent divine mind is not. 19 For the divine mind consists of the ideas of
all things. 20 Therefore, since the idea of thing A is one thing, the idea of B another,
the result is that one idea of the divine mind concurs with A, another with B. That the
composition of ideas does not constitute parts of the divine mind is elsewhere demon-
strated with the example of a point. The idea of Plato is therefore the same as the
substantial form of Aristotle. From this it is apparent that there is not one substantial
form for all bodies but a different one for different bodies, for as the disposition of na-
ture is varied, the form and idea are also varied; the motion and rest of a body derive
from this fact.
It must be shown from the hypothesis of those who hold matter to be mass [moles]
that they do not require it to be a substance, since those who consider matter to be
something insensible do require it to be a substance. It is to be demonstrated from the
agreement of philosophers that the substance of a thing does not appear to sense.
The word 'mind' must therefore necessarily mean something different from that today
usurped by sense; otherwise it would appear to sense. 21 The substance of each thing
is not so much mind as it is an idea of a concurrent mind. In God there are infinite,
really diverse, substances, yet God is indivisible. The ideas of God are the substances,
but not the essences, of things. The idea of God is not the substance of things which
are moved by mind.
In idea there is contained ideally both passive and active potentiality, both active
and passive intellect. Insofar as the passive intellect concurs, there is matter in the
idea; insofar as the active intellect, there is form. N.B. Bread and wine are not trans-
essentiated but transubstantiated. Somewhere in the breviary it is said that the body
of Christ is made bread and wine, but this is metonymy. The language of the Council of
Trent must be adhered to rigorously; bread and wine are not substance but substant-
iated being. It is less than correct to say that man is a substance; this is foreign to the
use and nature of the word and a modification of the abstract into the concrete. There-
fore it cannot be allowed except by metonymy ....
SUPPLEMENT: NOTES ON THE EUCHARIST

1668
[PA., VI, i, 513]
This demonstration has a threefold use - to confirm those who think rightly, to attract
the rest, and to prove philosophy a useful and necessary beginning for theology.
The substance of things is an idea. Idea is the union of God and creatures, so that
the action of agent and patient is one. A point is at once common to two lines or
intersectors. Most apt of all, an angle is at once center and lines.
N.B. There are no ideas in God except as there are things outside of him. Thus a
point is not a center except of lines. Now if the substance of things is an idea, and it is
asked whether this is everywhere, I reply that it is not everywhere, any more than a
creature is elsewhere than in the creator, and that the act of God is in the creature,
though God is everywhere. Neither is an angle in all of its sides, although it may be a
center of all its sides. It is in this way that the substance of things is in things or appear-
ances. But how God can bring it about that his idea should be in still other places than
the appearances, or that it should be a substance in other appearances (for idea or
pattern is opposed to examples or instances - this is a question that deserves accurate
thought.
The ideas of God and the substances of things are the same in fact, different in
relation; they are, moreover, as action and passion. However, since the substances of
things are the act of God on species, we must think of how it can come about that his
act upon one species is numerically the same as his act upon another.
But the substance of the body of Christ is its union with Christ, for the substance
of everything is its union with mind. Now it is asked how it is possible that the mind of
Christ acts in another body than that upon which it ordinarily acts. I reply that God
can bring it about that one mind shall be in two bodies when he thinks the same mind
or when he thinks of acting immediately upon two bodies. For whatever God can
think, that he can also do - at least if he wishes and holds it for the best. ...
REFERENCES
1 For the story of the project see the letter to Duke John Frederick of Hanover in 1679 (No.
28).
2 PA., VI,i,499.
3 Advancement ofLearning, Book I (Spedding and Heath, III, 267-68; cf. I, 436).
4 Horace Ars poet. 191: "And let no god intervene, unless a knot come worthy of such a
deliverer" (Fairclough).
5 Leibniz follows Aristotle and the Scholastics in distinguishing always between body (cor-
pus, corps) and matter, and the reader should not confuse the two concepts. Matter is never
substance but is known only in abstraction from it. Here it is logically prior to corporeal sub-
stance; body is a determinate and bounded quantity of matter. Later, with the distinction
between primary and secondary matter, matter is regarded as the passive, resisting aspect of
monads and bodies.
6 This is not to be interpreted as an anticipation of Leibniz's later theory of unconscious per-
ceptions, since the inner awareness, internal sense, or reflection of which he speaks is not a
condition of consciousness itself. Cf. the discussion of reflection in the next selection. The
argument which follows is an adaptation of Plato's old argument for immortality from the
indivisible unity of the soul.
7 Part II, chapter III, of the Catholic Demonstrations was to be a demonstration of immor-
tality based on "the wonderful construction of dreams". This selection shows Leibniz's
concern for "saving the phenomena" of mental life, as the preceding selection shows his con-
cern also for physical phenomena.
8 "Speak! Why are you here?" "Tc call to one's mind."
9 "In this grave lie the bones of the venerable Bede."
10 The argument for immortality was obviously to rest upon this spontaneously active but
unconscious principle in the mind. It points to the law of the individual, from which, in
Leibniz's later thought, all the activities and properties of the mind flow.
11 For the late medieval doctrine of suppositum see E. A. Moody, Truth and Consequence in
Medieval Logic, Amsterdam 1953. The conception of suppositum, as individual subsistent
substance, was established in Suarez, Disputationes metaphysicae, Disp. 34. That actiones sunt
suppositorum is one of Leibniz's basic metaphysical principles, and the consistency of his
pluralism and his logic depends upon his equation of this principle with the doctrine that in a
true affirmative propositionpredicatum subjecto inest. Cf. Introduction, Sec. V.
12 The doctrine of ideas stated in the remainder of this selection and in No.6, II, is central in
the development of Leibniz's metaphysics (cf. Loemker, 'Leibniz's Doctrine of Ideas', Phil.
Rev. 55,1946,229-49).
13 Section 11 is missing in the manuscript.
14 Added note of Leibniz: "At this point it is to be proved, against Descartes, that space and
extension really differ from body, because otherwise motion would not be a real thing, and a
vacuum would be necessary."
15 Added note by Leibniz: "Ideas are unities of mind and body, as angles are unities of points
and lines. Ideas are the same as the substantial forms of things. Thus ideas are in God as all
action is in an agent, and as creation is in God. If it is asked whether an idea is created or
not, I reply, is the created a creature or not?"
16 An imperfect section of the text, finding authority for the theory of ideas in Plato, Aristotle,
Stoics, and Averroes, is omitted. It will be noted that in what follows Leibniz avoids the impu-
tation of Averroeism by a distinction between mind and ideas.
17 Leibniz's departures from Thomism are significant; his view of individuality and of the
soul is here Scotistic, though he had earlier rejected Scotus' principle of individuality. The
unity of matter as an aggregate is never itself material but logical and mental. The soul itself,
in tum, has its own matter, distinct from its body. Scotus seems also to have anticipated
Leibniz's distinction between the bases of certainty in truths of reason and truths of fact, as
well as his attempt to correct the ontological argument.
18 Cf. p.l04, note 15; this is already a different view of substantial form from that of the letter
to Thomasius.
19 Added note by Leibniz: "Therefore it is not changed by the disposition of species to
corruption. "
20 Leibniz's note: "St. Thomas also thinks that the sacrament could have been celebrated at
the time when the soul of Christ was separate. I do not know whether this is true. Perhaps,
however, it could be understood separated from it in the same way that it is now separated
from the host, namely, with suspended action."
21 In the Paris notes Leibniz rejects Spinoza's definition of mind as the idea of the body
(No. 12). His attempted safeguards here against a monistic trend are later developed in the
refutation of Spinoza, Malebranche, and Sturm.
6
PREFACE TO AN EDITION OF NIZOLIUS

1670
(Selections)
Leibniz was induced by Boineburg to prepare an edition 0/ a work published in 1553 by the
Italian humanist, Marius Nizolius, and entitled On the True Principles of Philosophy,
against Pseudo-Philosophers. 1 For this edition he wrote an introduction which he called
'A Preliminary Dissertation on Editing the Works o/Others, on the Scope o/the Work,
on Philosophical Diction, and on Nizolius' Errors', but to which he also referred, on the
title-page, as 'On the Philosophical Style 0/ Nizolius'.
Written in Leibniz's most erudite style, this pre/ace is stuffed with historical and
bibliographical allusions, most 0/ which are here omitted. Its permanent interest lies in
his discussion 0/ language, particularly philosophical language, his theory 0/ the relation
0/ logic to rhetoric and metaphysics, his theory 0/ induction, and his evaluation 0/
Scholasticism and nominalism.
[G., IV, 138-76]
... In general, there seem to me to be three praiseworthy marks of speech - clarity,

truth, and elegance. Utility is a property rather of things themselves. That is clear which
is well perceived; so speech is clear if the meanings of all its words are known, at least
to the attentive. An utterance is true whose meaning is perceived through a right
disposition of both the percipient and the medium; for clarity is measured by the
understanding, truth by sense. This is the unique and truest definition of truth, from
which all the canons of right judgment can be derived, whatever may have been said
heretofore. But this must be explained elsewhere; here we will merely make it clear
with an example. The sentence, 'Rome is situated on the Tiber', is true for the reason
that nothing more is needed to understand what it says than that the sentient being and
the medium be in a right relation. The sentient should certainly not be blind or deaf,
and the medium or interval should not be too large. If this be granted, and I be in
Rome or near it, it will follow that I shall at one glance see the city and the river and
realize that this city is situated on this river, and I shall hear the city called Rome and
the river called the Tiber. Something similar is true in abstract matters; the sentence,
'The number 2 is even', is true because if! see (or hear, touch, think of) the number 2,
I see one and one (by the definition of the number 2 perceived through hearing or
reading) and nothing more. Hence I see two parts in the pair, one and one, equal to
each other and making up the whole, since one equals one. But a number whose two
parts make up the whole and are equal is called even (by the definition of even, per-
ceived through reading or hearing). Therefore, whoever perceives that a given number
is 2 perceives that it is even and therefore that the given sentence is true.
Speech is elegant if it is pleasant to hear or read. But, since our discussion concerns

philosophical discourse and the style which befits it, we shall omit elegance for the
present, although we may admit that it can be of great service in securing attention, in
moving minds, and in impressing things more deeply on the memory.
Only that degree of certainty is to be had which a given matter admits. 2 But even
when defined most rigorously, certainty is nothing but the clearness of truth, so that it
follows from the very notion of certainty that the qualities of philosophical discourse,
that is, of speech seeking certainty, are clarity and truth. Indeed, the truth of a propo-
sition obviously cannot be known unless the meaning of its words is known, that is,
unless it is clear (by the definition of clear speech).
Clearness in speech applies not merely to the words but also to constructions. For if
a construction is not clear, one may indeed know what the words mean simply and
taken singly but not what they mean in this particular place and related to the others.
But in the matter of obscurity of construction, speakers and poets are more apt to sin
than are our philosophers. Therefore we shall speak of the clarity of words taken by
themselves .... The clarity of a word arises from two factors - either from the word in
itself or from its context in speech. The clarity of a word in itself, again, has two
sources - origin and usage. The origin of a word, finally, can be resolved into two
factors - the use of the root and the analogy of the derivation made from the root.
Usage is the meaning of a word known in common by all who use the same language.
Analogy is a meaning reached by shifting, or by derivation, which is likewise known to
all who use the same language. For example, the usage or meaning of the word fate is
the necessity of events. In origin it is compounded from the usage of the root and from
analogy. The root isfor orfari, the meaning of the root is 'to say' (dicere); the analogy
of fate is fatum, the perfect passive participle of the designated verb in Latin, so that
the origin of fate and dictum is the same. Mostly, too, usage has arisen from origin by
a certain figure of speech. This appears in the given example, since fatum is originally
the same as dictum but means in usage what will happen necessarily. Let us see, there-
fore, whose dictum will happen necessarily; it is manifest that God's commands alone
fit this description. Thus by origin fate is dictum, then by antonomasia or par excellence,
the dictum of God, then by synecdoche the dictum of God concerning the future, or
the decree of God, and finally by the metonymy of cause, what will happen necessarily,
which is the present usage of the word. Thus the good grammarian, and the philosopher
as well, must deduce the usage of a word from its origin by a continuous sorites of
figures of speech, so to speak. I consider Julius Caesar Scaliger the great master in
this work. His books on origins are now lost, to the great detriment of philosophy,
except as his son has perhaps used them in his notes on Yarro, but these differ for
the most part from what his father had already published and scattered through his own
writings. So, although we have greater eruditton in the thought of the son, we have lost
the greater acumen and philosophy in the book of origins of the father. 3
This rule mus t be adhered to in applying words - if the origin disagrees with the
usage, we should follow the usage in speech rather than the origin; but if the usage is
either doubtful or does not forbid it, we should rather cling to the origin. If the word
has multiple usages, one must either be careful to abstract some so-called formal
meaning, that is, the meaning which includes all usages in it, ... or if this cannot be
done, one must at least establish some one usage which may be called original, i.e.,
from which the others follow in the same way in which it itself follows from the origin,
namely, through a series of figures of speech .... In either case, whether selecting the
more original usage or the formal meaning, one must make sure above all else to
choose among the many usages offered that one which is nearest the origin of the word.
Once chosen, however, the meaning must be reduced, jf there is place, to a definition
and submitted to the reader or listener. For a definition is nothing but the expressed
meaning of a word or more briefly, the meaning signified. In a definition care must be
taken not only that the definition be reciprocally true but also that it be clear. Technical
terms are therefore to be shunned as worse than dog or snake, and one must abstain
particularly from those words for categories which are far removed from Latin usage.
Once set up, the definition is to be adhered to consistently, so that wherever you
substitute the definition for the term defined, there results no absurd statement. Even
if no definition is given beforehand, the use of a word should be uniform so that the
same definition could be substituted anywhere. Thus, for any given word, we should
see what meaning is to be attached to it and conversely, what word should be attached to a
given meaning. In this, both brevity and clarity must be respected. The greatest clarity
is found in commonplace terms with their popular usage retained. There is always a
certain obscurity in technical terms .
... An analogy should be both generally accepted and fitting, so that the definition
of the new word which we intend can be molded from the meaning of the root and the
analogy. For example, haecceitas does not have a usual analogy; hoccitas (or hoccimo-
nia) would be better, like quidditas, not quaedeitas. The definition of hoccitas can be
formed from its root and the analogy, for the root is hoc and the analogy itas. More-
over, this analogy or reason for the derivation refers to the reason for the root word or
to that quality of the root due to which it is what it is said to be. Thus hoccitas will be
the reason why something is called hoc (just as Aristotle defines quality as that by
which we are said to be quales) or the quality of this insofar as it is this. Nor is it sur-
prising that we define abstract matters in terms of concrete, since the concrete is more
familiar ....
... Technical terms are to be avoided, as I have said; indeed, they are to be used with
care whenever possible. But this is not always possible because of the prolixity which
would result if popular terms were always used. For example, a square is quadrilateral,
equilateral, and rectangular, but the words 'equilateral', 'quadrilateral', and 'rectan-
gular' (not to mention 'plane') are technical in their turn. Hence they can be further
resolved. That is quadrilateral which has only four sides. A side is a bounding line.
That is rectangular all of whose angles are right. An angle is the intersection of lines;
right is that which is equal on both sides. Thus if we are to avoid technical terms, we
shall have to put all these words in place of the word square: that figure, all of whose
bounding lines are equal and whose bounding lines are only four, and in which all
intersections of terminating lines are equal on both sides. If even greater rigor is
demanded, the words line, bounding, intersection, and equality must be further resolved,
for their popular usage does not exactly fit the concepts of geometry .... I believe that
even the blind can see how annoying it would be, and how awkward, to have always to
use all these words in place of the word 'square' in our demonstrations. To this can be
added what I have already said in many passages of the Art of Combinations.
Our judgments are thus rendered more reliable by this process of analyzing technical
terms into merely popular ones; hence a perfect demonstration merely carries out such
analysis to the ultimate and best-known elements. But if this entire analysis were done
in one place - the subject and predicate of each judgment into their definitions, and the

ingredient terms of the definitions into further definitions - or if we had constantly to

return to other definitions or demonstrations we had already given or to the works of
some author who had done this, our memory would be overtaxed. Hence it has been
necessary to devise technical terms for those things to which people have not assigned
names, either because they have not thought of them (like the quadratic curve) or
because they use them rarely (like hyperbolas and parabolas) and believe it sufficient
to designate them by circumscription if this is sometimes desirable. There is certainly
nothing which cannot be expressed in popular terms, at least by using many of them.
Hence Nizolius rightly urges that anything be regarded as nonexistent, fictitious, and
useless to which there cannot be assigned a word in the vernacular, however general;
that is, as I interpret him, a word which joined together with other general words can
express the matter.
For philosophers are not always superior to common men in that they think of
different things, but rather in that they think in another way, that is, with the eye of the
mind, with reflection and attention, and comparing things with each other. But there is
no better way to arouse the attention of men for a certain matter than to assign it a
definite word to serve as a memory token for myself, and a sign for others to distinguish
it by. So far are philosophers from thinking more hidden and noble thoughts than
other men, moreover, that even before the incomparable Lord Bacon of Verulam
and other enlightened men recalled philosophy from its airy digressions, or from an
imaginary space, back to earth and to the guidance of life, there were certain barbering
alchemists who had sounder and clearer insights into the nature of things than did
any philosophaster sitting behind closed doors, bent exclusively over his haecceitates
or his hoccitates. I do not deny, however, that there are also many men of sound and
useful learning among the philosophers, especially among those who draw from the
springs of Aristotle and the ancients rather than from the cisterns of the Scholas-
tics.
Therefore philosophers often think just what other men think but with attention to
what others have neglected. Joachim Jung of Hamburg, for instance, a true philos-
opher, has observed, collected, compared, and classified many species of insects which
many mortals have undoubtedly seen but overlooked and trampled under foot and
has assigned new names to them on the basis of this comparison. We hope that these
and other meditations of his wiII be edited very soon by the enlightened Vogel. 4 But
sometimes, I admit, philosophers perceive bodies or bodily qualities which other
people never have perceived. Thus the chemists frequently produce new and hitherto
unknown bodies by a variety of mixtures and analyses. The same thing happens in the
mixtures of medical men, many of which have given their creators, whose names were
assigned to them, more lasting fame than if a statue of granite bearing a eulogy had
baen erected to them. Beyond a doubt, whoever first used the microscope saw many
new qualities such as hitherto unknown colors. In these cases either new names must
be formed or old ones adapted by some figure of speech based on the relation of the
new thing or quality to the old.
We may thus regard it as established that whatever cannot be explained in popular
terms is nothing and should be exorcised from philosophy as if by an incantation,
unless it can be known by immediate sense experience (like many classes of colors,
odors, and tastes). So it is customary for certain capable philosophers to urge the
brilliant masters of dialectic and disputation either to explain their terms clearly or,
if they want to avoid this vexing task, to step down to some living and popular language
and attempt to explain their meaning in it. When this happens, it is remarkable either
how they become confused or, if they attempt the change, how they are ridiculed by
all men of judgment and experience who are present and who are not interested
exclusively in the Latin language. This, I am convinced, is the reason why the exagger-
ated Scholastic style of philosophizing has gradually become obsolete in England and
France, for people there have long since begun to cultivate philosophy in their own
tongue, so that in a measure the common people, and even women, have become able
to judge about such matters. The same thing would undoubtedly happen in Italy and
Spain if the Scholastic theologians had not come to the aid of their philosophical
cousins there. In Germany the Scholastic philosophy is more firmly established
because, among other reasons, a late start was made in philosophizing in German, and
even now we have hardly made an adequate beginning. But I venture to say that no
European language is better suited than German for this testing and examination of
philosophical doctrines by a living tongue. For German is very rich and complete in
real-terms, to the envy of all other languages. No people have for centuries more
diligently cultivated the practical arts, among them especially the mechanical arts, so
that even the Turks use German names for metals in the mines of Greece and Asia
Minor. On the other hand, the German language is easily the poorest for expressing
fictions, certainly far less fitted for this than French, Italian, and other languages
derived from Latin. For in the daughter-languages of Latin, a term of barbarous
Latinity can easily be converted into good French or Italian through a slight twist.
Hence many terms of Scholastic philosophy have been retained in some way in French
translation. But no one has attempted such a thing in German without being hissed by
everybody. Whoever wishes to retain or to twist Latin terms into German will not be
philosophizing in German but in Latin. 5 And to no avail; he would not be understood
by anyone ignorant of Latin, for unlike Italian and French, German is worlds re-
moved from the Latin. The reason why philosophy has only more recently been dealt
with here in the vernacular is that the German language is incompatible, not with
philosophy, but with a barbarous philosophy. And since this barbarous way of philos-
ophizing has only lately been rejected it is not surprising that our language has been
slow to come into philosophical use ....
... Since we have established the fact that there is nothing which cannot be explained in
popular terms and that the more popular the terms, the clearer is the discourse, ... it
is obvious that the norm and measure for selecting terms should be the most compen-
dious popularity or the most popular compendiousness. Hence wherever equally compen-
dious popular terms are available technical terms are to be avoided. This is indeed one of
the fundamental rules of philosophical style, though violated frequently, especially by
metaphysicians and dialecticians. For dialectical and metaphysical subjects occur
commonly in the utterances, writings, and thoughts of uneducated people and are met
with frequently in everyday life. Spurred on by this frequent demand, the people have as
a result designated these subjects by special words that are familiar, very natural, and
economical. When such words are available, it is a sin to obscure matters by inventing
new and mostly more inconvenient terms (to say nothing of the awkwardness often
shown in manufacturing such words), and to make one's self admired only by the
ignorant but ridiculous to others. The same thing holds true in morals, politics, and
law. Since these fields are all alike open to the understanding of all, we can rarely hope

for anything but obscurity to result from inventing new terms in them. I say rarely,
for I admit that there is no science in which technical terms are not needed, especially
when the common people either do not understand the matter or dismiss it from their
attention. It is in mathematics, physics, and mechanics that new terms or terms with
new applications are most necessary, for the matters dealt with in these sciences are not
directly obvious to the understanding or in frequent common use ....
... One further warning seems worth while here, since its opposite is commonly held;
in philosophizing accurately, only concrete terms should be used. For the most part
Aristotle himself seems to me to have done this; he uses noaov, nOlOV, 7:0. np6~ 7:l rather
than noa67:1J~, n0l67:1J~, aXf;al~, or if it were proper to speak: this way, npoa-7:lv67:1J~. But
his adherents generally change this, as if it were too awkward, and fancy themselves as
more subtle, the gods willing, when they use abstract terms exclusively. Yet it appears
certain that this passion for devising abstract words has almost obfuscated philosophy
for us entirely; we can well enough dispense completely with this procedure in our
philosophizing. For concretes are really things; abstractions are not things but modes
of things. But modes are usually nothing but the relations of a thing to the under-
standing, or phenomenal capacities. Indeed, modes can be repeated to infinity, so that
there are qualities of qualities and numbers of numbers. If all these were things, not
only infinity but contradiction would result. For if being-ness [entitas] were a being
[ens], if real-ness were real, if somethingness [aliquiditas] were something, the thing
would be the form of itself, or a part of its own concept, which implies a contradiction.
If therefore anyone wants to give a perfect exposition of the elements of philosophy,
he must abstain from abstract terms almost entirely. I do recall that the astute Hobbes
ascribes some usefulness to abstract terms, by the very convincing argument that it is
one thing, for example, to double some warm water, another to double its warmth.
But this duplication of heat can itself be expressed in concrete terms, for if I say that
the same thing has been made twice as hot, or that the effect by which the heat is
measured is doubled, everyone will understand that it was not the hot water but the
heat that was doubled. So I must confess that I have never found any great use for
abstract terms in rigorous philosophizing but rather many and great abuses and very
dangerous ones ....
. .. So far we have shown that technical terms are to be avoided as far as possible.
Now we must note that whether terms are popular or technical, they ought to involve
either no figures of speech or few and apt ones. Of this, the Scholastics have taken lit-
tle notice, for strange though this sounds, their speech abounds with figures. What else
are such terms as to depend, to inhere, to emanate, and to inflow? On the invention of
this last word Suarez prides himself not a little. The Scholastics before him had been
exerting themselves to find a general concept of cause, but fitting words had not
occurred to them. Suarez was not cleverer than they, but bolder, and introducing
ingeniously the word influx, he defined cause as what flows being into something else,
a most barbarous and obscure expression. 6 Even the construction is inept, since
influere is transformed from an intransitive into a transitive verb; and this influx is
metaphorical and more obscure than what it defines. I should think it an easier task to
define the term 'cause' than this term influx, used in such an unnatural sense .
... Only truth remains to be discussed, but it is the logician's proper task to teach
the rules as to how truth is to be achieved and confirmed and all the devices for in-
vention and judgment. For the logician, in tum, the otherwise necessary burden of
examining and painstakingly discussing all his terms is wonderfully lightened if they
are accurately clear. For if no word is used unless its meaning is clearly and accurately
defined, all equivocation is necessarily banished, and with this a vast throng offallacies
will at once disappear. Hardly anything more will then be required for sound judgment
than that the senses be protected against error by means of the right constitution of the
sense organs and the medium, and the intellect by observing the rules for ratiocination.
Under these circumstances, I almost believe that just as there are two parts of rhetoric,
one concerned with combining words elegantly, ornately, and effectively, the other
with stirring the emotions, so there are also two parts of logic, the one verbal, the
other real; one dealing with the clear, distinct, and proper use of words or with philo-
sophical style, the other with the guidance and control of thinking. ... Therefore
Nizolius is not wrong in his frequent insistence that precise formulation be used in
logical disquisition, nor, perhaps, are we in this preface, in which we have expanded
beyond Nizolius this principle which is necessary in every part of an encyclopedia.
For our special purpose in preparing this edition is to contribute something, even
through the work of another author, to the establishment of that sounder philosophy
which the concerted efforts of the greatest geniuses are now advancing so excellently
everywhere. We therefore hope that the reading of Nizolius' treatise will result in rich
fruitage in philosophical matters, by leading men more and more to use this sober,
proper, natural, and truly philosophical way of speaking.
. .. The errors of Nizolius are many and great. ... Certainly the masterpiece is his
imputing the errors of the Scholastics to Aristotle and his heaping loud reproaches
upon men more prudent than himself, John Pico, Leonicenus, Rudolph Agricola, and
Vives, whom he accuses of adulation because they tried to defend Aristotle. But after
so many efforts have been made by the most learned scholars in interpreting Aristotle
and overcoming the misunderstandings of uncultured people, nothing is better known
in our own century than that Aristotle is free and innocent of all this ineptness with
which the Scholastics are so often polluted.... He who consults the interpreters whom
I have just mentioned 7 will readily admit, I believe, that Aristotle is far different than
he is commonly described and that we must not, as did Valla, Nizolius, Basso, and
other Aristotelianizers, read back into the author of the text what we find to be due
either to the inexperience of his interpreters or to their being put at disadvantage
because of the times in which they lived ....
I do not hesitate to say that the older Scholastics are far superior to certain of our
contemporaries in acumen, soundness, prudence, and even in their more cautious
avoidance of useless questions. For some of our contemporaries, who can hardly add
anything worth printing to the ancients, do only one thing; they accumulate references,
invent countless absurd questions, divide one argument into many, change methods,
and contrive new terms again and again. This is how they produce so many and such
bulky books.
How greatly inferior the insights of the Scholastics of this and the preceding cen-
turies are to the earlier ones can be shown by the nominalist sect, the most profound of
all the Scholastics, and the most consistent with the spirit of our modern philosophy.
This sect, once very prosperous, is now extinct, certainly among the Scholastics. This
seems to indicate that there has been a decrease rather than an increase in penetration.
But since Nizolius did not hesitate openly to call himself a nominalist, near the end of
Book I, chapter vi, and since the nerve of his argument consists in his destruction of

the reality of forms and universals, I consider it worth while to present certain facts
about the sect. Nominalists are those who believe that all things except individual
substances are mere names; they therefore deny the reality of abstract terms and
universals forthright. The first nominalist, it is believed, was a certain Roscelin of
Brittany, who aroused bloody conflicts in the academy of Paris .... The sect had long
been eclipsed, however, when the Englishman William of Occam, a man of the greatest
genius and learning for his age, first a disciple but soon the greatest opponent of Duns
Scotus, unexpectedly revived it. Gregory of Rimini, Gabriel Biel, and many of the
Augustinian order agreed with him, and Martin Luther's earlier writings also show
clearly a love of nominalism, until in the course of time, the monks all began equally
to be affected by it. The general rule which the nominalists frequently use is that
entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity. This rule is frequently opposed by
others as violating the divine opulence, which is generous rather than parsimonious
and takes pleasure in the variety and abundance of things. But those who raise this
objection have not, I think, grasped the meaning of the nominalists, which, though
more obscurely stated, reduces to this: the simpler a hypothesis is, the better it is. And
in accounting for the causes of phenomena, that hypothesis is the most successful
which makes the fewest gratuitous assumptions. Whoever acts differently by this very
fact accuses nature, or rather God, its author, of an unfitting superfluity.
The hypothesis of any astronomer who can explain the celestial phenomena with
few presuppositions, namely, with simple motions only, is certainly to be preferred to
that of one who needs many orbs variously intertwined to explain the heavens. From
this principle the nominalists have deduced the rule that everything in the world can
be explained without any reference to universals and real forms. Nothing is truer than
this opinion, and nothing is more worthy of a philosopher of our own time. So much
so that, I believe, Occam himself was not more nominalistic than is Thomas Hobbes
now, though I confess that Hobbes seems to me to be a super-nominalist. For not
content like the nominalists, to reduce universals to names, he says that the truth of
things itself consists in names and what is more, that it depends on the human will,
because truth allegedly depends on the definitions of terms, and definitions depend on
the human will. This is the opinion of a man recognized as among the most profound
of our century, and as I said, nothing can be more nominalistic than it. Yet it cannot
stand. In arithmetic, and in other disciplines as well, truths remain the same even if
notations are changed, and it does not matter whether a decimal or a duodecimal
number system is used.
The same thing is true of all the reformers of philosophy today; ifthey are not super-
nominalists, they are almost all nominalists. Hence Nizolius is all the more appropriate
for our times ....
... Finally, a serious error of Nizolius concerning the nature of universals must not
go unnoticed, for if the reader is not careful enough, it willead him far astray from the
course of true philosophy. He tries to convince us that a universal is nothing more
than all singulars taken simultaneously and collectively and that when I say, 'Every
man is an animal', the meaning is that all men are animals. This is indeed true, but it
does not follow that universals are collective wholes. Nizolius proves it in this way:
Every whole is either continuous or discrete. A universal is a whole that is not conti-
nuous and is therefore discrete. But a discrete whole is collective, and the concept of
the genus man is not different from that of a herd. So the meaning of this proposition,
every man (or the whole genus man) is rational, is the same as this, all/he sheep which
graze here are white, or the whole flock is white. But you are mistaken, Nizolius. The
discrete whole contains another genus besides the collective, namely, the distributive.
For when we say: every man is an animal, or all men are animals, the acceptation is
distributive; if you take that man (Titius) or this man (Caius), you will discover him to
be an animal, or a sentient being. If, as Nizolius holds, every man, or all men, is a
collective whole, and the same as the whole genus man, an absurd expression will
result. For if they are the same, we may substitute the whole genus man in the propo-
sition that all men are animals or every man is an animal, and we have the following
very inept proposition: the whole genus man is an animal. The same holds true for a
flock, for if the universal abstracted from all the sheep which graze here were, as
Nizolius holds, identical with the collective whole of them, this proposition would be
true: the whole herd is a sheep. Let us examine still another example, which leaves less
room for some desperate evasion. The old jurisconsults, who spoke Latin accurately,
as Nizolius will not deny, affirm that if someone makes a bequest like this, the genus is
legacy: I give and bequeath my horse to Titius. But in the sense of Nizolius, since the
genus is the whole abstracted from the singulars, it would be the same if he had said,
'I give and bequeath all my horses to Titius'. A rare sample of jurisprudence, indeed!
But by substituting the distributive whole for the collective, on the contrary, the case
becomes clear, for the sense will be, I give and bequeath this or that horse to Titius. Let
us add this point: if in the proposition, every man is an animal, the genus is affirmed of
the species, and if the genus is a universal, and the universal is the whole genus ab-
stracted from the individuals: then if we substitute all animals taken together for the
word 'animal', this proposition will result: man is all animals taken together, while it
suffices to say that man is some animal, or anyone of the universal genus of animals.
This error of Nizolius is, in truth, no small one, for it conceals an important conse-
quence. If universals were nothing but collections of individuals, it would follow that
we could attain no knowledge through demonstration - a conclusion which Nizolius
actually draws - but only through collecting individuals or by induction. But on this
basis knowledge would straightway be made impossible, and the skeptics would be
victorious. For perfectly universal propositions can never be established on this basis
because you are never certain in induction that all individuals have been considered.
You must always stop at the proposition that all the cases which I have experienced
are so. But since, then, no true universality is possible, it will always remain possible
that countless other cases which you have not examined are different. But, you may
ask, do we not say universally that fire - that is, a certain luminous, fluid, subtle body,
usually flares up and burns when wood is kindled, even if no one has examined all
such fires, because we have found it to be so in those cases we have examined? That is,
we infer from them, and believe with moral certainty, that all fires of this kind burn and
will burn you if you put your hand to them. But this moral certainty is not based on in-
duction alone and cannot be wrested from it by main force but only by the addition or
support of the following universal propositions, which do not depend on induction but
on a universal idea or definition of terms: (1) if the cause is the same or similar in all
cases, the effect will be the same or similar in all; (2) the existence 0/ a thing which is not
sensed is not assumed; and, finally, (3) whatever is not assumed, is to be disregarded in
practice until it is proved. From these principles arises the practical or moral certainty
of the proposition that all such fire burns .... Hence it is clear that induction in itself

produces nothing, not even any moral certainty, without the help of propositions
depending not on induction but on universal reason. For if these helping propositions,
too, were derived from induction, they would need new helping propositions, and so
on to infinity, and moral certainty would never be attained. Perfect certainty can clearly
never be hoped for from induction, even with the addition of any aids whatever. By
induction alone we should never perfectly know the proposition that the whole is
greater than its part. For someone would soon appear and for some reason deny that
it is true in cases not yet observed. We know this from the fact that Gregory of St.
Vincent denied that the whole is greater than its part, at least of angles of contact, and
that others have denied that it is true of infinity. Thomas Hobbes (or someone) began
to doubt the geometric proposition which was proved by Pythagoras and regarded as
worthy of the sacrifice of a hecatomb. I have read this with some amazement. 8 •••
REFERENCES
1 Anti-Barbarus, seu de veris principiis et vera ratione philosophandi contra pseudophilosophos,
Parma 1553.
2 Aristotle Eth. Nic. i. i.
3 The most important work ofthe father, Julius Caesar Scaliger, Italian humanist (1484-1558),
is his Exotericarum exercitationum fiber in criticism of Cardan's De subtilitate (1557). The son,
Joseph Justus Scaliger (1540-1609), reputedly France's greatest philologist, is best known
through the collections of anecdotes, the Scaligeriana (1666, 1669, etc.).
4 For many years Leibniz was concerned for the publication of the manuscripts of Joachim
Jung (1587-1657), eminent scientist and atomist of Hamburg, whom he considered the equal
of the most prominent scientists of other countries. His efforts failed, and the manuscripts
were destroyed by fire in 1691. Leibniz purchased the library of Martin Vogel for the Duke of
Hanover-Brunswick in 1678.
5 This brings to mind Schleiermacher's remark that Grotius and Leibniz could not have
philosophized in German and Dutch, at least without being entirely different men. Cf. Guh.
DS., II, 409-10. But Leibniz did succeed in using popular German effectively in explaining his
opinions (cf. Nos. 40 and 48).
6 See p. 83, n. 6.
7 The omitted section contains an account, first of critics of Aristotle, and then of recent
interpretations and defenses of him in Italy, Germany, and England.
8 Hobbes's attempts to correct Euclid are indeed such as to arouse amazement, though his bad
reputation as a geometrician rested primarily upon his twelve attempts at circle-squaring in
the De corpore (chaps. xviii-xx) and the bitter dispute which followed, particularly with John
Wallis. But his criticism of Cartesian geometry, his examination of geometric axioms, and his
operational interpretation of geometric reasoning must early have proved suggestive to
Leibniz. Cf. J. Laird, Hobbes, Oxford 1934, pp. 37-38, 102 ff., 264-65.
7
ELEMENTS OF NATURAL LAW

1670-71
The project in legal reform in which Leibniz was engaged at Mainz with Herman
Andrew Lasser took the form of a work on Rational Jurisprudence. Lasser took
charge of the last two parts, concerned with the actual reform of the law; Leibniz
undertook the first two - the Elements of Natural Law and the Elements of Contem-
porary Civil Law.
The first principles of law and justice are for Leibniz essentially the same as those of his
theology, since God is, after all, the supremely powerful lawgiver and the source of all
harmony. But the ethical consequences of these metaphysical principles are made clear
in law rather than in theology.
This long discussion of the elements of naturallaw l , written not before 1670, relates
the project of legal reform to the cultural state of Europe and explains Leibniz's principles
as they apply to law, ethics, and aesthetics. It is the most complete of many studies in
natural law from this period.
[PA., VI, i, 459-65]
It is obvious that the happiness of mankind consists in two things - to have the power,
as far as is permitted, to do what it wills and to know what, from the nature of things,
ought to be willed. Of these, mankind has almost achieved the former; as to the latter,
it has failed in that it is particularly impotent with respect to itself. For the power of
man has certainly increased immensely in the present age, and of the two elements of
our earth, one is almost tamed and the other restored from the rapacity of the former.
We have spanned the seas by a kind of mobile bridge and so united lands that were
once divided by enormous gaps. The heavens themselves cannot defeat us, and when
they hide their stars, we find help in deformed bit of glass. And having moved them
nearer to us and multiplied our eyes to be admitted into the interior of things and to
enlarge the face of the world a hundredfold, we then suddenly have disclosed to us new
worlds and new species, both equally admirable - the one in magnitude, the other in
smallness.
Nor do we lack glasses [conspicilia] of another kind, by which to survey the scattered
bits not merely of space but of time. The light of history has been brought to us, so that
we seem to have lived always. A new kind of monument has been prepared - though
of paper, yet more enduring even than bronze - by which great geniuses may survive
all the injuries of barbarous and tyrannical times and always anticipate the assured
immortality of heaven by an imaginary eternity of fame. We have thus embraced time
in our writings, the heavens in our telescopes, the earth in travel, and the sea in ships.
The other elements follow this example. The air too now reveals its secrets which have
been hidden from all eternity. Fire has already conspired, by the inexplicable goodness
of God, to serve as a kind of commendable torture wherever other things persist in

denying his powers and has given us those thunderbolts which no force can equal
except when human madness opposes them to each other. 2
Now that we are conquerors of the world, there assuredly remains an enemy within
us; everything is clear to man but man, the body to the mind, and the mind to itself.
To drop the tragic style and speak more naturally, we are ignorant of the medicine of
bodies and of minds. We treat the former as does an agent something for the sake of
gain; we treat the latter as a boy does his lesson - as nothing, for he learns it in the
hope of forgetting it. It is not surprising, therefore, that until now we have established
no science of the pleasant, or the useful, or the just. The science of the pleasant is medi-
cine, that of the useful is politics, and that of the just is ethics.
The physician should explore our structure, the position and motion of our parts,
the causes of pleasures, so that he may conserve and produce them, and of our pains,
on the other hand, so that he may remove and prevent them. To this end he should
make use of such aids as characteristics, optics, music, perfumes, cooking, as well as
chemistry and botany. We possess an unbelievable mass of unusual 0 bservations, but
they are crude, undigested, and without use except almost by chance. To what end has
this material been gathered and made ready with so much study, jf we are to postpone
until another century the construction of our happiness? Why not strike a blow with
combined forces against this persistence of nature in concealing herself? Why, I ask,
unless it is because the blame for the imperfection of natural science must fall back
upon the public, since they could improve it if everyone wished it, and if individuals
wished that all should wish it in general? All will not do together, however, what
individuals will and can do, unless the matter is attacked in the right way and on the
basis of the secrets of true politics, by those to whom it is given to make a great part
of mankind happy as an example to the rest and to make themselves happy through
this part. For those who appraise this matter truly understand that the sciences of the
just and the useful, that is, of the public good and of their own private good, are
mutually tied up in each other and that no one can easily be happy in the midst of
miserable people.
Until now we have therefore been ignorant of, that is we have not imbibed, we have
not drunk from the true springs of equity and of good. We can indeed be ignorant of
what we have read, heard, and even thought a thousand times, if reflection, so to
speak, and the attention of the mind have been absent. For what we know that
we know, we also will to use. But what we do not know that we know, we do not know
at all.
There are two things which make us take notice - eloquence and demonstration. The
former moves the affections and brings the blood to boil, so to speak. The latter
creates a clear comprehension in the mind. Hence the former vanishes unless it takes on
demonstrative form and is only the senseless ecstasy of a mob agitated by frantic
emotions. The latter affects but few indeed, and only great men, but those great men in
whom alone there is hope for improvement in this greatest of centuries, in which a kind
of consuming hunger brings all great talents to the solid nourishment of truth. If we
were to satisfy these, if we were to urge them to do their own thinking, if we were to
establish truth on a firm ground, then we might be able to lessen the flow of eloquence.
Of the entire utility of this I have written elsewhere, I hope not too popularly. Now
it will suffice to sow the seeds of that science which shows how individuals should give
way to the good of all if they wish happiness to revert to themselves, increased as by
a rebound. The answer to this problem has been intrusted to the Elements of Law and
Equity 3, which we shall now undertake to develop with the good will of Heaven.
1. The doctrine of Right belongs to those sciences which depend on definitions and
not on experience and on demonstrations of reason and not of sense; they are problems
oflaw, so to speak, and not of fact. For since justice consists in a kind of congruity and
proportionality, we can understand that something is just even if there is no one who
practices it or upon whom it is practiced. Just so the relations of numbers are true even
if there were no one to count and nothing to be counted, and we can predict that a
house will be beautiful, a machine efficient, or a commonwealth happy, if it comes into
being, even if it should never do so. We need not wonder, therefore, that the principles
of these sciences possess eternal truth. For they are all conditionalia, conditional truths,
and treat not of what does exist but of what follows if existence be assumed. They are
not derived from sense but from a clear and distinct intuition [imaginatio], which
Plato called an idea, and which, when expressed in words, is the same as a definition.4
That which can be understood clearly, however, is not always true, though it is always
possible; and it is also true, in addition, whenever the only question is that of possi-
bility. But whenever there is a question of necessity, there is als 0 one of possibility, for
if we call something necessary, we deny the possibility of its opposite. It therefore
suffices to demonstrate the necessary connections between things and their conse-
quences in this way: by deducing them from a clear and distinct intuition (that is,
from a definition when this intuition is expressed in words), through a continuous
series of definitions which imply them; that is, through a demonstration. Therefore
since the doctrine of Law is a science, and the basis of science is demonstration, and
definition is the principle of demonstration, it follows that we must first of all investi-
gate the definitions of the words Right, just, and justice, that is, the clear ideas by
which we usually estimate the truth of propositions or of the right use of words in
speech, even when we do not know we are doing SO. 5
2. The method of our investigation is to gather the more important and distinctive
examples of the use of these terms and to set up some meaning consistent with these
and other examples. For just as we construct a hypothesis by induction from observa-
tions, so we construct a definition by comparing propositions; in both cases we make
a compendium of all other instances, as yet untried, out of the most important given
cases. This method is necessary whenever it is not desirable to determine the use of
terms arbitrarily for one's self. For as long as we are speaking only to ourselves or to
our special group, or about something not generally known, it is in our power to
assign to any definite idea whatever the word which will serve to arouse our memory,
so that it will be unnecessary for us always to repeat the definition, that is to say, ten
other words. But when we are writing for the public and on a commonly discussed
matter in which we do not lack terms, it is either the folly of one who does not want
to be understood, or the malice of a deceiver, or the pride of one who seeks to bring
others to his own views without offering any reasons, to think up words or usages
private and peculiar to one's self. This is a matter which I have discussed at length in
the preface to Nizolius.
3. From the beginning, however, both our own good and that of others are involved
in the question of right. For as concerns our own good, it is universally admitted that
what one does out of the necessity of protecting his own security seems to be done
justly. In the next place, no one is willing to separate justice from prudence, for, as

everyone agrees, justice is a definite virtue, but every virtue restrains the affections so
that nothing can obstruct the dictates of right reason. But the right reason for our
actions is the same as prudence. It follows, therefore, that there can be no justice
without prudence. Prudence, furthermore, cannot be separated from our own good,
and any statement which contradicts this is empty and foreign to the actual practice of
those who utter it, whatever they may say against it. There is no one who deliberately
does anything except for the sake of his own good, for we seek the good also of those
whom we love for the sake of the pleasure which we ourselves get from their happiness.
To love is to find pleasure in the happiness of another. We love God himself above all
things because the pleasure which we experience in contemplating the most beautiful
being of all is greater than any conceivable joy. It follows from this, if you consider the
matter completely, that no one can be obligated to do evil to himself. What is more, no
one can be obligated except for his own good. For since justice is something of which a
prudent man can be convinced, and since no one can be convinced of anything except
for reasons of his own utility, it follows that every duty must be useful. We therefore
derive two propositions from the common agreement of those who use these terms:
first, that everything necessary is just and, second, that every duty (or injustice) is
useful (or harmful). It remains to see to what extent there is in justice a basis for con-
sidering the good of others.
4. In the first place, however, all men proclaim that an injury has been done and,
indeed, that nature has been violated if anyone seeks to harm others without gaining
any advantage for himself, or if he refuses to do something useful to others which
involves no harm to himself, or if he chooses to let a person die whom he could save at
no cost to himself; but also if he places some advantage of his own, which does not
bear upon the common good, above the misery or happiness of others, if he feasts his
cruel eyes on the dead, if he achieves his ends by resorting to murder and torture, if he
prefers to let a servant be destroyed rather than his own vice. Furthermore, there is no
one who approves making a profit at the expense of others. Finally, there is also
another ground for complaint if the same misfortune afflicts two people, but one of
them assumes that only he is to be recompensed, for when the cause is alike in equiva-
lent cases, the right is equal. In all these cases men find not only the deed blameworthy
but also the will. Hence these propositions: First, it is unjust to will to harm another
except for one's own good. Second, it is unjust to will the cause of another's destruction
unnecessarily. Third, it is unjust to will harm to another for one's own gain. Fourth, it
is unjust to be unwilling to bear a common injury.
5. Since it is agreed in summary, therefore, that the just consists of having a reason
for the good of one's self and of others, let us try to define this step by step.
Whether perhaps the just is to be defined as willing what is harmful to no one? But
then it will not be just to seek one's own harm that other harm may be avoided.
Whether then that is just which is done for the sake of avoiding harm to one's self?
But then it would be just to prefer one's vice even though a servant perish.
Whether just is what happens by reason of its own necessity? But then it would not
be permissible to prefer one's own gain to that of another.
Whether the just is what is publicly approved? But then my security should be
postponed by public misfortune.
Whether just is whatever is not a cause of war? But then it would not be just, in case
of assault, to prefer that someone else be destroyed rather than myself.
Whether the just is whatever does not deserve censure by a prudent man? Certainly.
But the injustice makes the censure; the censure does not make the injustice. This
argument is also valid if you define the just as whatever prudent men do not regard as
punishable; or as whatever can be defended in the assemblies of wise men in general;
or as what is in conformity with the best commonwealth; or as whatever conforms to
nature; or whatever pleases a wise and powerful man; or whatever is of advantage to
the stronger. Likewise the view that you should be sure to do, yourself, what you
demand of others; that you demand nothing of others which you would not do your-
self; and that each one should do what, if done by all, is useful to each.
Nor is the just whatever is not contrary to the social good. For even Curtius could
justly have refused to make his horrible leap, though the security of his country was
involved, if all hope after death had been denied him. 6
Nor is the just whatever is congruent with a rational nature. For what would such a
nature wish for itself? Whether the just is whatever can exist together without deform-
ity? For that would be congruent in the popular sense. But then the sick would be
unjust. Whether the just is rather whatever is congruent with right reason? But then
every error, even if no harm results to the one who errs, would be a crime.
Whether justice is virtue preserving the mean between two affections of man toward
man - love and hate? As a boy I myself supported this opinion enthusiastically, for
being fresh from the Peripatetics, I failed thoroughly to digest the fact that all the other
virtues governing our affections have themselves one governess - the justice of things.
But I put aside this convincing rather than sound view without difficulty when it
became clear that the whole basis of virtue is found in the fact that the affections can do
nothing but obey and that there can thus be only one moral virtue, as it is called: to be
the master of one's own spirits and blood, so to speak; to be able to glow, to rise up,
to cool off, to rejoice, and to grieve when we wish and as long and as strongly as we
wish. This balancing of contraries, however, usually turns out to be mixed. To this
we may add that to be ineptly profuse or unseasonably persist ought not to be ascribed
to the breaking-off of an affection, since men reason falsely that a kind of honor comes
to them from luxury or prodigality or from promising more than one's capacities or
uneasy fortunes justify, or on the other hand, from being unreasonably diffident about
one's abilities and fortunes. So I can be unjust, not because of the hate of him whom I
harm, but because my love for myself or for a third person prevails over my love for
you. But to love myself and you, or you and a third person, are not affections opposed
to each other, although they may accidentally conflict, since both can exist together in
the highest degree. Yet although we may assign this latitude of love and hate to
justice, it would be unjust to love another too much to one's own injury. This is inept
rather than unjust, however, for whom does it injure save him who does it? But to
injure one's self is not, strictly speaking, injustice. The value of such a different use of
words would be less than the resulting confusion between just and good, and we should
have to form new words, whereas we are trying not to resort to such aids. Therefore
the just will not be whatever does not conflict with prudence in aiding and harming
others. For it would follow that, where the right to harm someone is once admitted, he
is unjust who fails to do this harm in conformity with the strictest rules.
Whether just is really what is not contrary to conscience? But what does it mean to be
contrary to conscience, since conscience is the memory of one's own deeds? Whether
that deed of ours is unjust whose memory is burdensome, i.e., for which we are sorry?

If SO, every harm which we inflict upon ourself through our own fault will be unjust.
Therefore we do ourselves an injury, contrary to our earlier view. But you say there
are certain innate concepts, and there has been placed within us a certain witness of
the just and the unjust, stronger than all our protests, which tortures the wicked by the
mere consciousness of crime, our nature being so formed by the wonderful wisdom of
its creator that, if there were no other punishment, this would certainly be the punish-
ment of sinners, the grief of the perpetrator. But let those consult this oracle who will.
They will find that this internal torturer is fear; fear, I say, of punishment by a judge
who can be neither deceived nor escaped and whose opinion impressed on even the
most simple by the aspect of this universe, not even the most profligate can put aside,
however much they may wish. Just, therefore, will be that whose punishment is not to
be feared, and this basis for defining it we now judge to have been established.
Where, then, do we stand after so many attempts? Whether justice is the habit of
willing the good of others for the sake of our own? This is nearest to the truth, but a
little distorted. There is in justice a certain respect for the good of others, and also for
our own, but not in the sense that one is the end of the other. Otherwise it may follow
that it will be just to abandon some wretched person in his agony, though it is in our
power to deliver him from it without very much difficulty, merely because we are sure
that there will be no reward for helping him. Yet everybody abominates this as crimi-
nal, even those who find no reason for a future life; not to mention the sound sense of
all good people which spurns so mercenary a reason for justice. And what shall we say
of God; is it not unworthy to hold him an instrument to this? But how reconcile these
views to those given above, where se said that we do nothing deliberately except for our
own good, since we now deny that we should seek the good of others for the sake of
our own? They are to be reconciled, beyond doubt, by a certain principle which few
have observed, but from which a great light can be thrown upon true jurisprudence as
well as upon theology. The answer certainly depends upon the nature of love.
There is a twofold reason for desiring the good of others; one is for our own good,
the other as iffor our own good. The former is calculating, the latter loving. The for-
mer is the affection of a master for his servant, the latter that of a father for his son;
the former that of one in need toward the instrument for meeting his need, the latter
that of a friend for his friend; the former for the sake of some other expected good, the
latter for its own sake. But, you ask, how is it possible that the good of others should
be the same as our own and yet sought for its own sake? For otherwise the good of
others can be our own good only as means, not as end. I reply on the contrary that it is
also an end, something sought for its own sake, when it is pleasant.
For everything pleasant is sought for its own sake, and whatever is sought for its
own sake is pleasant; all other things are sought because of the pleasure they give or
conserve or whose contrary they destroy. All people sense this, whatever they may say;
or at least they act according to it, whatever they may believe. Ask the Stoics, those
airy dreamers, cloud-dwellers, star-gazers, those enemies, professedly of joy, but really
of reason. Observe, pry into their acts and movements. You will find that they cannot
stir a finger without pointing out the falsehood of their own foolish philosophy.
Honor [honestas)' itself is nothing but pleasure of mind. If you listen more carefully to
Cicero when he declaims in favor of honor and against pleasure, you will hear him
plead magnificently for the beauty of virtue, the deformity of wickedness, the conscience
quiet and at peace with itself in the bosom of the joyous mind, the good of uninjured
reputation, the triumph of glory. 8 But what is sought in all these things in themselves,
save pleasure? I say in themselves, f or there is still another fruit of glory - it increases
power. For it makes us loved or feared. We seek beautiful things because they are
pleasant, for I define beauty as that, the contemplation of which is pleasant.
Pleasure, however, is doubled by reflection, whenever we contemplate the beauty
within ourselves which our conscience makes, not to speak of our virtue. But as a
double refraction can occur in vision, once in the lens of the eye and once in the lens of
a tube, the latter increasing the vision of the former, so there is a double reflection in
thinking. For every mind is something like a mirror, and one mirror is in our mind,
another in the mind of someone else. So if there are many mirrors, that is, many minds
recognizing our goods, there will be a greater light, the mirrors blending the light not
only in the eye but also among each other. The gathered splendor constitutes glory.
There is an equal reason for deformity in the mind; otherwise there would be no sha-
dows to be increased by the reflection of the mirrors. 9
But to return to our path, in the consensus of mankind everything pleasant in itself
is sought after in itself, and everything sought after in itself is pleasant. We can there-
fore readily understand how we not only can achieve the good of others without our
own but can even seek it in itself; namely, insofar as the good of others is pleasant to us.
A true definition of love can be built from this. For we love him whose good is our
delight. Therefore we have confirmed (as I have already said) that everything which is
loved is beautiful, that is, delightful to a sentient being, but not that everything beauti-
ful is loved. For we do not really love nonrational beings, since we do not seek their
good in itself, except those who make the popular mistake of imagining that there is
some reasonable element - I know not what - in animals which they call sense. Since
justice, therefore, demands that we seek the good of others in itself, and since to seek
the good of others in itself is to love them, it follows that love is of the nature of
justice.
Justice will therefore be the habit ofloving others (or of seeking the good of others in
itself and of taking delight in the good of others), as long as this can be done prudently
(or as long as this is not a cause of greater pain). For even the joy which we take in our
own good must be curbed by prudence, lest it sometime become the cause of greater
pain; how much more then the joy we take in that of others. Yet it may not be pertinent
to call in prudence here, for even one who believes, though foolishly, that the good of
others is unrelated to his own pain is nonetheless obligated to them. Therefore justice
will be the habit of deriving pleasure from an expectation of the good of others, even to
the expectation of our own pain. But these last words can be extended even further,
for even though our own pain intervenes, nothing prevents our taking pleasure in an
expectation of the good of others, though our act itself may follow the greater pleasure
or the lesser pain.
To reach a conclusion at last, the true and perfect definition of justice is therefore the
habit of loving others, or of finding joy in the expectation of the good of others
whenever an occasion arises. It is equitable to love everyone else whenever an occasion
arises. We are obligated (we ought) to do that which is equitable. It is unjust not to be
delighted in the good of others when an occasion arises. The just (the permissible) is
whatever is not unjust. Therefore the just is not merely what is equitable - to delight in
the good of others when the issue arises - but also what is not unjust - to do what you
will when no issue is involved. Right is the power of doing what isjust. 1o

REFERENCES
1 The title we use is that in PA.; MoUat, who first published the paper, gives the title as
Elements of Law and Equity (Mitteilungen aus Leibnizens ungedruckten Schri/ten, Leipzig 1893,
pp.19-36).
2 The allusion is to gunpowder; cf. Leibniz's epigram in verse on the bombs developed by the
technicians of Louis XIV (Klopp, V, 636).
3 Cf. note 1, above. Depending upon the context, we shaU translate Jus either by Law (as
opposed to laws), or Right (as distinct from rights).
4 MoUat appropriately documents this passage with Plato's Republic 507b. The influence of
Plato's logic and ethics is apparent throughout the work.
S Leibniz's theory of demonstration is stated more clearly and completely in Nos. 18 and 25.
His view that principles of justice are truths of reason or of possibilities which condition but
do not completely determine existence already presupposes the distinction between possi-
bility and existence made in his later thought, though his logical theory still concerns only the
former. What are here called clear and distinct intuitions (imaginationes) are the simple,
primary concepts to which Leibniz believed all knowledge may be reduced by analysis and out
of which all demonstration is therefore built.
6 See Liyy vii, 6.
7 See p. 58, n. 5.
8 De finibus bonorum et malorum v; De officiis iii.
9 In the selection in note 10, below, Leibniz extends this argument for the social multiplica-
tion of pleasure to God, making it a moral argument for creation and plurality. Here is
implied also his argument for the necessity of evil as the source of variety in value. The mirror
analogy was a favorite with Leibniz; it must be borne in mind that the mirrors of the 17th
century were still imperfect reflectors, containing much materia prima or indistinctness and
inertness, and that Leibniz may have had in mind concave focusing mirrors, of the kind he
advocated for scientific uses and his friend Tschirnhaus was later to experiment with.
10 The following selection, from a somewhat earlier study in the Elements of Law, expounds
another dimension of social harmony, namely praise, and also portrays its divine basis (PA.,
VI, i, 437-38 [from 1669 or 1670]):
"How few men there are who do not attribute some sense and a kind of reason to beasts,
almost as to an infant who cannot be said to think. Yet they do not shrink from inflicting
misery upon beasts for the sake of even the smallest benefit to themselves, and hardly anyone,
in any age, with the exception of a few Pythagoreans, has charged that it is an injustice to kill
beasts for the sake of our appetites, for the obvious reason that we are not afraid that they will
plot against us.
H is to be noted, however, that there is still another reason [i.e., besides fear of reprisal].
Concern for security is to be placed above concern for praise; one does not place acclaim
higher than security. Hence tyrants care very little about being hated when they are safe, for
they say, 'They may hate me, if only they fear me.' But even if we are beyond fear, we all seek
praise. No wise man fails to desire praise, because he desires harmony. Praise is a kind of echo
and duplication of harmony. If God had no rational creatures in the world, he would still
have the same harmony, but alone and devoid of echo; he would still have the same beauty,
but devoid of reflection and refraction or multiplication. Hence the wisdom of God demanded
rational creatures in which things may multiply themselves. So one mind may be a kind of
world in a mirror, as it were, or in a lens or some kind of point collecting visual rays. Therefore
if we are prudent we try to give satisfaction to those whom we believe to be in a position to
judge our actions as good and evil. Thus I hold that he is the most powerful or inviolable
being of all who will seek as much of the highest good as possible."
Cf. also the following: "Harmony is diversity compensated by identity; or the harmonious
is the uniformly difform" (PA., VI, i, 484 [from 1671]).
8
STUDIES IN PHYSICS AND THE NATURE OF BODY

1671
It is not until the Paris period that Leibniz, under the particular tutelage of Huygens,
developed any adequate understanding of the issues in modern mathematics and physics.
His first interest in these fields came earlier, however, as a result of philosophical and
theological problems, and in ''proud ignorance "1 he not only answered most controversial
questions to his own satisfaction but ventured to enter into the jealous public discussions
then at their height between English and French scholars. In 1669 he had proposed correc-
tions to the laws of motion worked out by Huygens and Wren. The New Physical
Hypothesis, published in 1671, outlined a somewhat incoherent program of new physical
and cosmological principles. This work appeared in two parts, one of which, The Theory
of Abstract Motion, he dedicated to the French Academy, the other, The Theory of
Concrete Motion, to the British Royal Society. The Fundamental Principles presented in
the former treatise, though an unassimilated combination of Cavalierian, Hobbesian,
Cartesian ideas, suggest a number of his own later metaphysical principles, though the
central concept offorce is still lacking.
The second selection, written late in 1671, shows Leibniz's skill in constructing empirical
definitions and reveals the motives for his phenomenalism. His criticisms of Descartes are
already wellformulated.
1. THE THE OR Y OF ABSTRACT MOTION: FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES,

[PRAEDEMONSTRABILIA]2
[G., IV, 228-32]
1. There are actually parts in a continuum, though the learned Thomas White
believes the contrary.
2. And these are actually infinite, for the indefinite of Descartes is not in the thing
but in the thinker.
3. There is no minimum in space or in a body, that is, no part of which the magnitude
would be zero; for such a thing cannot have any position, since whatever has a position
can be in contact at the same time with several things which do not touch each other
and hence will have many faces. Nor can a minimum be assumed without it following
that there are as many minima in the whole as in the part, which implies a contra-
diction.
4. There are indivisibles or unextended beings, for otherwise we could conceive neither
the beginning nor the end of motion or body. The proof of this is as follows. There is a
beginning and an end to any given space, body, motion, and time. Let that whose
beginning is sought be represented by line ab, whose middle point is c, and let the
middle point of ac be d, that of ad be e, and so on. Let the beginning be sought at the
left end, at a. I say that ac is not the beginning, because cd can be taken from it without

destroying the beginning; nor is it ad, because ed can be taken away, and so forth. So
nothing is a beginning from which something on the right can be removed. But that
from which nothing extended can be removed is unextended. Therefore the beginning
of body, space, motion, or time - namely, a point, conatus, or instant - is either nothing
which is absurd, or unextended, which was to be demonstrated.
5. There is no point whose part is 0, or whose parts lack distance; whose magnitude
is inconsiderable; incapable of being designated, less than that which can be expressed
by a ratio not infinite to another sensible magnitude; less than any which can be given.
This is the foundation of the method of Cavalieri 3 , in which its truth is obviously
demonstrated so that we must think of certain rudiments, so to speak, or beginnings of
lines and figures, as smaller than any given magnitude whatever.
6. The ratio of rest to motion is not that of a point to space but that of nothing to
one.
7. Motion is continuous or not interrupted by little intervals of rest.
8. For where a thing is once at rest, it will always remain at rest unless a new cause of
motion occurs.
9. Conversely, a thing once moved will always move with the same velocity and in
the same direction if left to itself.
to. Conatus is to motion as a point to space, or as one to infinity, for it is the be-
ginning and end of motion. 4
11. Hence whatever moves, no matter how feeble, and no matter how large may be
the obstacle it meets, will propagate its conatus in full against all obstructions into
infinity, and furthermore it will impress its conatus on all that follows. For though it
cannot be denied that a moving body does not proceed in its motion even when it has
been stopped, it at least strives to do so, and what is more, it strives, or what is the
same thing, begins to move the obstructing bodies, however large, even though they
may exceed it.
12. There can therefore be many contrary conatuses in the same body at the same time.
For given the line ab, and c moving from a to b, and d, on the other hand, moving
from b to a, and colliding with c; then at the moment of collision c will strive against
b even though it is thought to stop moving, because the end of motion is conation.
But it will also strive in the opposite direction if the opposing body is thought to
prevail, for it will begin to move backward. But even if neither should prevail over the
other, this will still be the same, because every conatus is continued through the resist-
ing bodies to infinity, and so, that of each one in the other. And if equal velocities
accomplish nothing, neither will a double or any greater velocity, for two times
nothing is nothing.
13. One point of a moving body at the time of conatus, or in a time less than any
assignable time, is in many places or points of space, i.e., the body will fill a part of
space greater than itself, or greater than it would fill at rest or if moving more slowly, or
if striving in one direction only. Yet this space is still inassignable or consists in a point,
although the ratio of the point of the body (or the point it would fill at rest) to the
point of space it fills in motion is like that of an angle of tangential contact to a rectili-
near angle or of a point to a line.
14. In general, too, whatever moves is never in one place when it moves, nor indeed
in one instant or least moment of time, because whatever moves in time strives, or
begins and stops moving, in that instant, that is, it changes its place. It is also irrelevant
to say that, when it strives in a time less than any given time, it is in a minimum space,
for there is no minimum of time, otherwise there would also be one of space. For
whatever moves through a line in a time less than any given time moves through a line
in space less than any given line, or a point, and therefore through an absolutely mini-
mum part of space in an absolutely minimum time. But by the third principle, there
is no such thing.
15. On the contrary, at the time of impulsion, impact, or collision, the boundaries or
points of two bodies either penetrate each other or are in the same point of space. For
when one of two colliding bodies strives into the position of the other, it begins to be
in it, that is, it begins to penetrate or to be united. For conatus is beginning, penetra-
tion, union. The bodies are therefore in the beginning of union, or their boundaries are
one.
16. Therefore bodies which push or impel each other are in a state of cohesion, for
their boundaries are one, for as Aristotle too defines them, bodies whose limits are one
[wv 'Co. BtTxarex BV] are continuous or are in cohesion. s For if two things are in one place,
one cannot be put in motion without the other.
17. No conatus without motion lasts longer than a moment except in minds. For what
is conatus in a moment is the motion of a body in time. This opens the door to the
true distinction between body and mind, which no one has explained heretofore. For
every body is a momentary mind, or one lacking recollection [recordatio], because it
does not retain its own conatus and the other contrary one together for longer than a
moment. For two things are necessary for sensing pleasure or pain - action and reaction,
opposition and then harmony - and there is no sensation without them. Hence body
lacks memory; it lacks the perception of its own actions and passions; it lacks thought. 6
18. One point is greater than another point, one conatus is greater than another
conatus, but every instant is equal to every other one. Hence time is measured by uniform
motion in the same line, although its parts do not stop in an instant but are dense
[indistantes], as are angles in a point. 7 These parts the Scholastics, perhaps after the
example of Euclid, called signs, because there appear in them things that are simul-
taneous in time but not in nature, since one is the cause of the other. Likewise in
accelerated motion, which increases at every instant and therefore at the very beginning;
but to increase presupposes an earlier and a later. So one sign is necessarily earlier than
another at the same given instant, even though without distance or extension.... No
one can easily deny the inequality of conatuses, but from this the inequality of points
follows. One conatus is obviously greater than another, or one body, moving more
rapidly than another, obviously passes through more space from the beginning, for
if it passes through the same amount at the beginning, it will always continue to pass
through the same amount, for motion continues as it begins unless some external
cause changes it, by No.9. Then, too, if the beginnings are equal, the ends are also
equal; therefore, at the moment of collision the fast one will act upon the slow one
only as much as the slow one on the fast, which is absurd. They must therefore be
unequal. The stronger body will therefore pass through more space than the slower at
a given instant. But in one instant no conatus can pass through more than a point, or a
part of space less than any given part, otherwise it would pass through an infinite line
in time. Therefore one point is greater than another. 8 •.•
19. If two conatuses occurring at the same time can be conserved, they are compounded
into one, and the motion of each is conserved. This is clear in a sphere rolled along a

plane, where the motion of each point designated on the surface of the sphere is com-
pounded from a straight line and a circle, combined through minima or conatuses
into a cycloid. 9 ••• This argument deserves to be treated more carefully by geometri-
cians, so that it may be made clear what new curves may be produced by combining
the conatuses of any given curves; thus many new geometric theorems could perhaps
be demonstrated. .
20. A moving body impresses upon another, without any diminution of its own
motion, whatever the other can receive without losing its own earlier motion ....
21. If there is not something which can act simultaneously upon everything else,
and be the cause of everything equally, and if there is no third thing involved, there
is no action. This is the cause of rest ....
22. If conatuses that cannot be compounded are unequal, they are subtracted from
each other, the direction of the stronger being conserved .... For two conatuses can be
subtracted from each other, since the less is equal to a part of the greater, and hence,
as long as a resolution of the problem is found in a part of either conatus, there is no
reason for choosing a third solution.
23. If two conatuses that cannot be compounded are equal, the directions of both
will be destroyed, or a third will be chosen intermediate between the two, the velocity
of conatus being conserved. This is, so to speak, the peak of rationality in motion,
since the problem is solved not merely by a crude subtraction of equals but also by the
choice of a more fitting third possibility, and so by a kind of remarkable but necessary
wisdom, such as is not easily shown in the whole of geometry or phoronomy.lo There-
fore, since everything else depends on the one principle that the whole is greater than
its part, Euclid prefaced the Elements by saying that the rest can be solved by addition
and subtraction alone. But this principle, along with No. 20, depends on the noblest of
all, namely:
24. That there is nothing without a reason. The consequences of this principle are
that as little as possible should be changed, that the mean is to be chosen between
contraries, that whatever is added to one thing need not even be subtracted from
another, and many other things that are important in civil science as well.
II. AN EXAMPLE OF DEMONSTRATIONS ABOUT THE NATURE OF CORPOREAL

THINGS, DRAWN FROM PHENOMENA
Late 1671
[K., pp. 141-42]
By the word thing we mean that which appears, hence that which can be understood;
because when we are deceived and recognize our error, we may still rightly say that
something has appeared to us but not that it has existed.
The nature of a thing is the cause, in the thing itself, of its appearances. Hence the
nature of a thing differs from its phenomena as a distinct appearance differs from a
confused one, and as the appearance of parts differs from the appearance of their
positions or their relations to the outside; or as the plan of a city, looked down upon
from the top of a great tower placed upright in its midst differs from the almost infinite
horizontal perspectives with which it delights the eyes of travelers who approach it
from one direction or another. This analogy has always seemed excellently fitted for
understanding the distinction between nature and accidents. 11
What men call a body must be investigated carefully, for a clear and distinct idea of
this gives us access to demonstrations. First of all, men agree that only what is thought
of as extended can be called a body. Yet all men hold that wherever they think of
empty extension alone, there is no body but only empty space. And they think that the
space remains when one body leaves it and another takes its place, even if they sense
the contrary. Whether this derives from the prejudices of childhood needs to be made
clear. Moreover, they think of a body whenever they think of something else besides
space or extension alone which appears to them, for mere extension never appears to
them without being invested with some color, or conatus, or resistance, or some other
quality. At first glance it occurs to no one that these are merely species of extension,
and therefore we must' not assume it any more than we assume that all bodily changes
are merely local movements. This must be demonstrated.
Therefore we think of a body whenever we think of extension being somewhere but
at the same time think of a phenomenon. We can, of course, think of bodies which
are not perceptible to us. But we think of all these as imperceptible, either because they
are not located conveniently to us or because they are too large or too small. Bu t for
these same reasons we can also certainly say that bodies are perceptible (even if not in
themselves but merely in their externals), if we think we should see them even if
nothing were changed in them, but only in things external to them, as in us and the
medium. So for example, we believe we should be able to see fish in the bottom of the
sea if we could descend there; hence we also believe that they are there.
Men call space something which they think is extended but nothing else, unless it be
immutable. For they think that when everything else is changed, that is, is sensed to
have stopped or begun, space is sensed as neither stopping nor beginning but that it
is always sensed as long as sentient beings are attending to it (that is, want to sense it)
and as long as they retain the faculty of sense or are able to sense. Indeed, they think
that this is the only way in which they can sense it and that, even if they might wish to,
they can never think of it as anything but what would be sensed never to move as long
as they attended to it. Space is therefore something extended which we see that we
cannot think of as changing.
A body is something in space (that is, something not apart from some space), which
we perceive we cannot think of without space, though we can think of space without it,
But can we think of space without any body? We can, but only in the same way that
we think of God, the mind, the infinite. These are kno wn, and hence thought of, but
without any image. We think of space in a body, but because we think of space
remaining the same when a body changes, we percei ve space and body to be distinct.
However, space and body are distinct. For we perceive that we think of space as the
same when bodies change, and what we perceive ourselves to be thinking or not
thinking we perceive truly.12 The perception of thought is immediate to the thought
itself in the same subject, and so there is no cause of error. Therefore it is true that we
think of space remaining the same when bodies change and that we can think of space
without a body which is in it. Now two things are diverse if one can be thought of
without the other. Therefore space and body are diverse.
Let no one think that this demonstration is like Descartes's effort to demonstrate the
existence of God from the idea in his mind. It will be worth while to show the difference
briefly. Descartes's argument reduces to this. I think (clearly and distinctly) of a per-
fect being. Whatever I think (clearly and distinctly) is possible. Therefore a perfect

being is possible. Again, if something is possible, that without which it cannot be

thought (that is, that without which it is impossible) is necessary. But a perfect being
cannot be thought of without its existence. Therefore the existence of a perfect being is
necessary. The perfect being is God. Therefore the existence of God is necessary.
He could have condensed this as follows. An existing being is possible. That without
which it is not possible is necessary. An existing being without existence is not possible.
Therefore the existence of an existing being is necessary. Who would deny it? But al-
so, who would conclude from it that God is, since, namely, we have already assumed
that he is? But Descartes's entire reason obviously reduces to this. For he asserts that
God is perfect only because he thinks that this proposition contains the proposition
that God exists. But he has not yet proved that God is perfect in the sense that he
already exists; this in turn rests on the question whether he exists.
Our reasoning is entirely different, although it does proceed from an idea in our
mind to the truth of things. For it rests on these two propositions: whatever is perceived
clearly and distinctly is possible, and whatever is immediately sensed is true. Or
whatever the mind perceives within itself, it perceives truly. Hence if the mind dreams
that it is thinking, it will be truly thinking; however, it will not be truly seeing if it
dreams it is seeing. Therefore, when I sense that I am thinking clearly and distinctly of
space remaining the same when a body changes, I am sensing truly. What I sense
clearly and distinctly is possible; therefore it is possible for space to remain the same
when a body changes. Therefore space and body are different. ...
REFERENCES
1The phrase is in J. E. Hofmann, Die Entwicklungsgeschichte der leibnizschen Mathematik

wiihrend des Aufenthaltes in Paris, Munich 1949, p. 4. This work describes Leibniz's efforts to
establish his reputation at this time and the unhappy effects upon his later relations with the
Royal Society.
2 This section is preceded by definitions of the concepts involved in the laws of bodily impact.
The title implies that Leibniz considers them as demonstrable, though they are treated as
postulates. In his mature period such principles would be 'subordinate maxims' (No. 35, Sec.
17) or principles of existence and therefore not completely reducible to the general laws of
being by human minds. Here they illustrate Leibniz's a priori and synthetic approach to
scientific laws, though the basic principles of being (except for the law of sufficient reason
in Sec. 24) are not yet formulated.
3 Leibniz had read Uotaud's Examen circuli quadraturae and Cavalieri's Geometria indivisibili-
bus continuorum nova quadam ratione promota and is here struggling with the latter's indivi-
sibles and the paradoxes involved in them. He makes no headway with the possible elements of
a calculus of infinitesimaIs, however, until after he has read Pascal in Paris. His concern here
is rather with the place of Hobbes's conatus as beginning of motion, in relation to geometric
and phoronometric relations.
4 Cf. p. 101, note 3. Conatus is here an element of motion at a point; Leibniz does not dis-
tinguish force from motion until the period in which he criticized Descartes's theory of the
conservation of quantity of motion (No. 34).
5 See p. 103, note 11.
6 The reflective perception of its own processes is thus the basis of memory and thought in the
mind. Leibniz has here moved beyond the mind-body dualism of Descartes to a position in
which both are analyzed into elementary motions endowed with feeling.
7 The difficulties which Hobbes's theory of the conatus crea tes with respect to the whole-part
axiom of Euclid lead Leibniz eventually to distinguish between the relations of containing and
inclusion, on the one hand, and part-whole, on the other. The Scholastic doctrine of signs,
which he here introduces as elements wherein greater and smaller points or conatuses differ, is
fruitful in the further development of Leibniz's thought, for it suggests the internal complexities
of any particular value of y = I(x), the petites perceptions in a present mental state, and the
relations within a momentary impulse of force.
S Contrary to Euclid's definition of a point as that which has no parts. The rest of this section
contains applications to the geometry of angles, circles, regular polygons, and circular motion.
9 Thus Leibniz knew of the construction of the cycloid before studying Pascal, as well as the
principle of compounding and resolving quantities of motion.
10 Phoronomy is the abstract theory of motion, or the interpretation of motion in terms of the
general principle of the equivalence of preceding and succeeding states of motion. It thus adds
to geometry the temporal dimension and lies midway between that science and Leibniz's
later science offorce, or dynamics.
11 See p. 103, note 12.
12 Leibniz uses sentio throughout this study for the fundamental mental act of apprehension;
for the sake of clarity we have used, variously, 'to see', 'to perceive', and 'to sense'.
9
LETTER TO MAGNUS WEDDERKOPF

May, 1671
Leibniz's starting point in the principle of harmony, and the metaphysical consequences
which he draws from it, are explicit in this letter to a jurisconsult in Kiel with whom he
corresponded briefly. The implications of Leibniz's determinism for the problems of
freedom and of evil are briefly treated.
[PA., II, i, 117-18]
Fate is the decree of God or the necessity of events. Those events are fatal which will
necessarily happen. Both views are difficult - that a God who does not decide every-
thing, or that a God who does decide everything, should be the absolute author of all.
For if he does decide everything, and the world dissents from his decree, he will not be
omnipotent. But if he does not decide everything, it seems to follow that he is not
omniscient. For it seems impossible that he should suspend his omniscient judgment
about anything. If we frequently suspend our judgments, this happens out of ignorance.
Hence it follows that God can never be purely permissive. It follows also that there
is no decree of God which is really not absolute. For we suspend our judgments with
conditions and alternatives because we have insufficiently explored the circumstances
of the problem.
Is this conclusion hard? I admit it. What of it? Pilate is condemned. Why? Because
he lacks faith. Why does he lack it? Because he lacks the will to attention. Why this?
Because he has not understood the necessity of the matter (the utility of attending to
it). Why has he not understood it? Because the causes of understanding were lacking.
For it is necessary to refer everything to some reason, and we cannot stop until we have
arrived at a first cause - or it must be admitted that something can exist without a
sufficient reason for its existence, and this admission destroys the demonstration of the
existence of God and of many philosophical theorems.
What, therefore, is the ultimate reason for the divine wiII? The divine intellect. For
God wiIIs the things which he understands to be best and most harmonious and selects
them, as it were, from an infinite number of all possibilities.!
What then is the reason for the divine intellect? The harmony of things. What the
reason for the harmony of things? Nothing. For example, no reason can be given for
the ratio of 2 to 4 being the same as that of 4 to 8, not even in the divine wiII. This
depends on the essence itself, or the idea of things. For the essences of things are
numbers, as it were, and contain the possibility of beings which God does not make as
he does existence, since these possibilities or ideas of things coincide rather with God
himself. Since God is the most perfect mind, however, it is impossible for him not to be
affected by the most perfect harmony, and thus to be necessitated to do the best by the
very ideality of things.
This in no way detracts from freedom. For it is the highest freedom to be impelled
to the best by a right reason. Whoever desires any other freedom is a fool. Hence it
follows that whatever has happened, is happening, or will happen is best, and also
necessary, but as I have said, with a necessity which takes nothing away from freedom
because it takes nothing from the will and from the use of reason. No one has the
power to will what he wills, even though he can somethimes do what he wills. Indeed,
no one wants this Ii berty of willing what to will for himself, but rather of willing the
best. Why then do we invent for God that which we do not want for ourselves? It is
thus clear that an absolute will which does not depend upon the goodness of things is a
monstrosity; there is, on the contrary, no permissive will in an omniscient being, ex-
cept insofar as God makes himself conform to the ideality or the bestness [optimitate]
of things.
Therefore nothing is to be considered absolutely evil; otherwise God would not be
supremely wise in grasping it or supremely powerful in eliminating it. I have no doubt
that this was the opinion of Augustine. Sins are evil, not absolutely, not to the world,
not to God - for otherwise he would not permit them - but only to the sinner. God
hates sins, not in the sense that he cannot bear the sight of them as we cannot bear the
sight of things we detest - otherwise he would eliminate them - but in the sense that
he punishes them. Sins are good, that is, harmonious, taken along with their punish-
ment or expiation. For there is 110 harmony except through contraries.
But this is said to you; I should not like to have it get abroad. For not even the most
accurate remarks are understood by everyone. 2
REFERENCES
1 The distinction between possibility and existence and the principle of the best possible were
thus taking form in Leibniz's mind before he read MaJebranche in Paris and before he criticized
Spinoza's view that all possibles exist (No. 14, II, and No. 20). But there is no evidence that
he has worked out the logical foundations of the distinction.
2 Later note by Leibniz: "I later corrected this, for it is one thing for sins to happen infallibly,
another for them to happen necessarily." Whether Leibniz later succeeds in softening the
harshness of his determinism is doubtful (see No. 29).
10
LETTER TO ANTOINE ARNAULD

Early November, 1671
(Selection)
'The great Arnauld', Jansenist opponent of the Jesuits and acknowledged to be the out-
standing philosophical and theological controversialist of the time, was at the height of his
fame and activity when Leibniz addressed his first letter to him. The occasion was a plan
to promote Catholic support for the proposed Catholic Demonstrations (No.5).
Arnauld's criticisms in his later correspondence were to be influential in sharpening Leib-
niz's thought (Nos. 35 and 37), but there is no evidence that he replied to this letter.
Only that part of this long and rather boastful writing is here translated which outlines
Leibniz's intellectual opinions and motives. The section on physiCS restates some of the
conclusions in the New Physical Hypothesis (No.8, J) and further sections build his
psychology upon it.
[G., I, 71-74]
... Amid so many distractions, there is nothing, I think, upon which I have brooded
more earnestly over the course of my life, however short, than the problem of assuring
my security in the future, and I confess that by far the greatest cause of my philosophi-
zing as well has been the hope of winning a prize not to be disdained - peace of mind -
and the ability to say that I have demonstrated certain things which have heretofore
merely been believed or even, in spite of their great importance, ignored.
I saw that geometry, or the philosophy of position, is a step toward the philosophy of
motion and of body and that the philosophy of motion is a step toward the science of
mind. Therefore I have demonstrated some propositions of great importance about
motion, of which I shall here state two. First, there is no cohesion or consistency in
bodies at rest, contrary to what Descartes thought, and furthermore, whatever is at
rest can be impelled and divided by motion, however small. This proposition I later
extended still further, discovering that there is no body at rest, for such a thing would
not differ from empty space. From this there follows a demonstration of the Coperni-
can hypothesis and many other novelties in natural science. The other proposition is
that all motion in a plenum is homocentric circular motion and that no rectilinear, spi-
ral, elliptical, oval, or even circular motion around different centers can be understood
to exist in the world, unless we admit a vacuum. It is unnecessary to speak of the rest
here. I mention these because something follows from them which is useful for my
present purpose. From the latter principle it follows that the essence of body does not
consist in extension, that is, in magnitude and figure, because empty space, even though
extended, must necessarily be different from body. From the former it follows that the
essence of body consists rather in motion, since the concept of space involves nothing
but magnitude and figure, or extension.
In geometry I have demonstrated certain fundamental propositions on which

depends a geometry of indivisibles, that is, a source of discoveries and demonstrations.
These are that any point is a space less than any given space; that a point has parts,
though these are dense [indistantes]; that Euclid was not wrong in speaking of parts
of extension; that there are no indivisibles, yet there are non-extended beings; that one
point is greater than another point, but in a relation less than any which can be
expressed, or incomparable to any sensible difference; that an angle is the quantity of a
point. From the phoronomy of indivisibles I added to these that the relation of rest to
motion is not that of a point to space but that of nothing to one; that a conatus is to
motion as a point is to space; that there can be several conatuses at once in the same
body but not several contrary motions; that at the time of its conatus a single point of a
moving body may sometimes be in many places or many points of space or in a part
of space greater than itself; that whatever moves is never in one place, not even in an
infinitesimal instant; that, if one body strives against another, this is the beginning of
mutual penetration or union or that the boundaries of the two are one, as Aristotle
defines a continuum (ov TO. laxaTa BV). Hence all those bodies - and only those - cohere
which press upon each other. There are also certain momentary parts or signs, a con-
ception which can be understood from continuously accelerated motion which increases
at every instant and hence at the very beginning. For to increase connects the earlier
and the later state. At a given instant one sign is necessarily prior to another, but with-
out extension, that is, without any distance between the signs whose ratio to any
sensible time whatever is greater than any given quantity, or as that of a point to a
line. 1
From these propositions I reaped a great harvest, not merely in proving the laws of
motion, but also in the doctrine of mind. For I demonstrated that the true locus of our
mind is a certain point or center, and from this I deduced some remarkable conclusions
about the imperishable nature of the mind, the impossibility of ceasing from thinking,
the impossibility of forgetting, and the true internal difference between motion and
thought. Thought consists in conatus, as body consists in motion. Every body can be
understood as a momentaneous mind, or2 mind without recollection. Every conatus
in bodies is indestructible with respect to direction [determinatio] 3; in mind it is also
indestructible with respect to the degree of velocity. As the body consists in a sequence
of motions, so mind consists in a harmony of conatuses. The present motion of a body
arises from the composition of preceding conatuses; the present conatus of a mind,
that is, will, arises from the composition of preceding harmonies into a new one or
through pleasure. If this harmony is disturbed by another conatus impressed upon it,
the result is pain. I hope to demonstrate these and many other matters in the Elements
of Mind which I am undertaking. From this I make bold to promise some light for the
defense of the mysteries of the Trinity, the Incarnation, Predestination, and the
Eucharist, of which I shall speak last of all.
My mode of life has itself compelled me to try to investigate moral problems and to
establish the foundations of justice and equity with somewhat more clarity and cer-
tainty than is usual. I am working on a Nucleus of Roman Law, which presents in its
own words, concisely and in good order, that which is truly law in the entire Corpus,
both what is new and what is purviewed - all this as a sample of a new Perpetual Edict
which can be enacted even now. In addition, I am thinking of recapitulating the Ele-
ments of Roman Law in a short table which presents, at a single glance, the few clear

rules the combination of which can solve all cases, and furthermore, new arguments for
abridging lawsuits - all these far more expediently, efficiently, thoroughly, and naturally
[ollcelCh"ep(n], so to speak, than has been proposed anywhere, in my opinion. In addi-
tion to these, I am planning to treat the Elements 0/ Natural Law in a short book in
which everything will be demonstrated from definitions alone. I define a good man or a
just man as one who loves all men; love as pleasure derived from the happiness of
others, and pain from the unhappiness of others; happiness as pleasure without pain;
pleasure as the sense of harmony; pain as the sense of disharmony [inconcinnitas];
sense as thought with will or with a conatus to act; harmony as diVersity compen-
sated by identity. For variety always delights us if it is reduced to unity. From these I
deduce all the theorems of justice and equity. That is permitted which a good man can
do. That is duty which a good man must do. Hence it is clear that the just man, the man
who loves all, necessarily strives to please all, even when he cannot do so, much as a
stone strives to fall even when it is suspended. I show that all obligation is fulfilled by
the supreme conatus; that to love others and to love God, the seat of universal
harmony, is the same; indeed, that it is the same to love truly or to be wise, and to love
God above all things; this is to love all or to be just. If the benefits of several people
interfere with each other, that person is to be preferred from whose help the greater
good in the end follows. Hence in case of conflict, other things being equal, the better
man, that is, the one who loves more generally, is to be preferred. For whatever is given
him will be multiplied by reflection so as to benefit many people, and therefore many
will be helped by helping him. In general, other things being equal, he is to be preferred
who is already satisfied. For it may be shown that benefiting others proceeds at the
rate, not of addition but of multiplication. If two numbers, one greater than the other,
are multiplied by the same number, multiplication adds more to the larger.... There-
fore the larger the number that is multiplied by the same multiplier, the greater is our
gain. This difference between addition and multiplication has important applications
in the doctrine of justice. For to benefit is to multiply, to harm is to divide, for the
reason that the person benefited is a mind, and mind can apply each thing in using
it to everything, and this is in itself to expand or to multiply it ....
REFERENCES
1 That is, the ratio approaches zero. On Leibniz's use of the doctrine of signs see p. 144, note 7.
2 Reading seu for sed (as in No.8, I, and following G.'s suggestion, p. 73).
8 Determinatio is generally the logical condition for a complete or existent notion, as opposed
to incomplete or abstract notions. In his physical writings, however, Leibniz uses it in the
sense of determined direction, as here interpreted.
11
LETTER TO SIMON FOUCHER

WITH NOTES ON FOUCHER'S REPLY TO DES GABETS
1675
Leibniz's intellectual achievements during the four years he spent in Paris, from March,
1672, to September, 1676 1 , cannot befully appraised until his papers from that period are
completely published. The general impression that he forsook philosophy for mathematics
is wrong; indeed, it contradicts his whole conception of the relation between the two fields.
While his mathematical studies were advancing under the guidance of Huygens and by the
reading of Pascal and Descartes, his philosophical conceptions were also being subjected
to new tests and problems ,for it is in this period that Malebranche produced the Recherche
de la verite and that Leibniz had opportunity for discussions with him, with Arnauld,
with Foucher, and with other intellectual leaders. Now, too, he undertook a careful study
of Descartes and Plato, whose Phaedo and Theaetetus he paraphrased during this period.
Simon Foucher, canon of Dijon (1644-97), had written a criticism of Malebranche's
work in 1675 from the point of view of the ancient Academy; in the following year he
replied to a defense of that author by Dom Robert des Gabets. Leibniz's letter to Foucher
in 1675 concerns questions of subjectivism and our knowledge of the external world.
His notes to Foucher's reply to Dom Robert show that his own doctrine of ideas is
now related explicitly to the problems of epistemology and logic.
[G., I, 369-74]
I
I agree with you that it is important once and for all to examine all our presuppositions
in order to establish something sound. For I hold that it is only when we can prove
everything we assert that we understand perfectly the thing being considered. I know
that such studies are not very popular, but I also know that to take the pains to under-
stand matters to their roots is not very popular. As I see it, your purpose is to examine
those truths which affirm that there is something outside of us. You seem to be most
fair in this, for thus you will grant us all hypothetical truths which affirm, not that
something does exist outside of us, but only what would happen if anything existed
there. So we at once save arithmetic, geometry, and a large number of propositions in
metaphysics, physics, and morals, whose convenient expression depends on arbitrarily
chosen definitions, and whose truth depends on those axioms which I am wont to call
identical; such, for example, as that two contradictories cannot exist and that at any
given time a thing is as it is; that it is, for example, equal to itself, as great as itself,
similar to itself, etc.
But although you do not enter explicitly into an examination of hypothetical
propositions, I am still of the opinion that this should be done and that we should

admit none without having entirely demonstrated and resolved it into identities.
It is the truths which deal with what is in fact outside of us which are the primary
subject of your investigations. Now in the first place, we cannot deny that the very truth
of hypothetical propositions themselves is something outside of us and independent of
us. For all hypothetical propositions assert what would be or would not be, if some-
thing or its contrary were posited; consequently, they assume two things at the same
time which agree with each other, or the possibility or impossibility, necessity or indiffer-
ence, of something. But this possibility, impossibility, or necessity (for the necessity of
one thing is the impossibility ofits contrary) is not a chimera which we create, since all
that we do consists in recognizing them, in spite of ourselves and in a constant manner.
So of all the things which actually are, the possibility or impossibility of being is itself
the first. But this possibility and this necessity form or compose what are called the
essences or natures and the truths which are usuaIly called eternal. And we are right
in calling them this, for there is nothing so eternal as what is necessary. Thus the
nature of the circle with its properties is something which exists and is eternal, that is,
there is some constant cause outside of us which makes everyone who thinks carefully
about a circle discover the same thing, not merely in the sense that their thoughts agree
with each other, for this could be attributed solely to the nature of the human mind,
but also in the sense that phenomena or experiences confirm them when some appear-
ance of a circle strikes our senses. These phenomena necessarily have some cause
outside of us.
But although the existence of necessities comes before all others in itself and in the
order of nature, I nevertheless agree that it is not first in the order of our knowledge.
For you see that in order to prove its existence, I have taken for granted that we think
and that we have sensations. So there are two absolute general truths; truths, that is,
which teIl of the actual existence of things. One is that we think; the other, that there
is a great variety in our thoughts. From the former it foIlows that we are; from the
latter, that there is something other than us, that is to say, something other than that
which thinks, which is the cause of the variety of our experiences. Now one of these
truths is just as incontestable and as independent as the other, and having stressed only
the former in the order of his meditations, Descartes failed to attain the perfection to
which he had aspired. If he had foIlowed with exactness what I calI a filum meditandi 2 ,
I believe that he would reaIly have achieved the first phiiosophy.3 But not even the
greatest genius can force things; we must of necessity enter through the openings which
nature has made, in order to avoid being lost. What is more, one man alone cannot do
everything all at once, and for myself, when I think of all that Descartes has said that
is exceIlent and original, I am more amazed at what he has done than at some things
which he failed to do. I admit that I have not yet been able to read his writings with all
the care that I had intended to give them, and as my friends know, it happened that I
read most of the other modern philosophers before I read him. Bacon and Gassendi
were the first to faIl into my hands. Their familiar and easy style was better adapted to a
man who wanted to read everything. It is true that I have often glanced through Gali-
leo and Descartes, but since I have only recently become a geometrician, I was soon
repeIled by their style of writing, which requires deep meditation. Personally, though I
have always loved to think by myself, I have always found it hard to read books which
one cannot understand without much meditation, for in following one's own thoughts
one follows a certain natural inclination and so gains profit with pleasure. One is
violently disturbed, in contrast, when compelled to follow the thoughts of someone

else. I always liked books which contained some good thoughts, but which I could run
run through without stopping, for they aroused ideas in me which I could follow up in
my own fancy and pursue as far as I pleased. This also prevented me from reading the
books on geometry carefully; I freely admit that I have not yet been able to make
myself read Euclid in any other way than one usually reads history. I have learned
from experience that this method is good in general, yet I have recognized never-
theless that there are authors for whom one must make an exception, such as Plato
and Aristotle among ancient philosophers, and GaIileo and Descartes among our own.
Yet what I know of the metaphysical and physical meditations of Descartes has come
almost entirely from the reading of a number of books written in a more popular
style which report his opinions. And perhaps I have not as yet understood him well.
To the extent that I have read him over myself, however, it seems to me that I have at
least been able to discover what he has not done or tried to do, and among other
things, this is to analyze all our assumptions. This is why I am inclined to applaud all
who examine even the smallest truth to the end, for I know that it is much to under-
stand something perfectly, no matter how small or easy it may seem. One can go very
far in this way and finally establish the art of discovery, which depends on knowledge of
the simplest things, but on a distinct and perfect knowledge of them. It is for this reason
that I have found no fault with the plan of De Roberval, who tried to demonstrate
everything in geometry, even some of the axioms. 4 I grant that we should not enforce
such exactness upon others, but I believe that it is good to demand it of ourselves.
But I return to these truths which are primary with respect to ourselves, and first to
those which assert that there is something outside of us; namely, that we think and that
there is a great variety in our thoughts. This variety cannot come from that which
thinks, since one thing by itself cannot be the cause of the changes occurring in it. For
everything remains in the state in which it is, unless there is something which changes it.
And since it has not been determined by itself to undergo certain changes rather than
others, we cannot begin to attribute any variety to it without saying something which
admittedly has no reason, which is absurd. Even if we tried to say that our thoughts
have no beginning, we should be obliged to assert that each of us has existed from all
eternity; yet we should not escape the difficulty, for we should always have to admit
that there is no reason for this variety which would have existed from all eternity in our
thoughts, since there is nothing in us which determines us to one variety rather than
another. Thus there is some cause outside of us for the variety of our thoughts. And
since we agree that there are some subordinate causes of this variety which themselves
still need a cause, we have established particular beings or substances to whom we
ascribe some action, that is, from whose change we think that some change follows in
us. So we make great strides toward fabricating what we call matter and body. S
But at this point you are right in stopping us for a while and renewing the criticisms
of the ancient Academy. For at bottom all our experiences assure us of only two things:
first, that there is a connection among our appearances which provides the means to
predict future appearances successfully; and, second, that this connection must have
a constant cause. But it does not follow strictly from this that matter or bodies exist but
only that there is something which gives us appearances in a good sequence. For if
some invisible power were to take pleasure in giving us dreams that are well tied into
our preceding life and in conformity with each other, could we distinguish them from

reality before we had awakened? Now, what prevents the course of our life from being
one long well-ordered dream, about which we could be undeceived in a moment? Nor
do I see that such a power would be imperfect just on this ground, as Descartes asserts,
to say nothing of the fact that its imperfection is not involved in tbe present question.
For it might be a kind of subordinate power, or a demon who for some unknown
reason could interfere with our affairs and who would have at least as much power
over us as that caliph had over the man whom he caused to be carried, drunk, into his
palace, and let taste of the paradise of Mohammed after he was awakened; after which
he was once more made drunk and returned in that condition to the place where he
had been found. When this man came to himself, he naturally interpreted this expe-
rience, which seemed inconsistent with the course of his life, as a vision, and spread
among the people maxims and revelations which he believed he had learned in his
pretended paradise; this was precisely what the caliph wished. Since reality has thus
passed for a vision, what is to prevent a vision from passing for reality? The more
consistency we see in what happens to us, it is true, the more our belief is confirmed
that what appears to us is reality. But it is also true that, the more closely we examine
our appearances, the better ordered we find them, as microscopes and other means of
observation have shown. This permanent consistency gives us great assurance, but
after all, it will be only moral until somebody discovers a priori the origin of the world
which we see and pursues the question of why things are as they appear back to its
foundations in essence. For when this is done, he will have demonstrated that what
appears to us is reality and that it is impossible for us ever to be deceived in it. But I
believe that this would very nearly approach the beatific vision and that it is difficult
to aspire to this in our present state. Yet we do learn therefrom how confused the
knowledge which we commonly have of the body and matter must be, since we believe
we are certain that they exist, but eventually find that we could be mistaken. This
confirms Mr. Descartes's excellent thought concerning the proof of the difference
between body and soul, since one can doubt the one without being able to question the
other. For even if there were only appearances or dreams, we should be nonetheless
certain of the existence of that which thinks, as Descartes has very well said. I may
add that one could still demonstrate the existence of God by ways different from those
of Descartes but, I believe, leading farther. For we have no need to assume a being who
guarantees us against being deceived, since it lies in our power to undeceive ourselves
about many things, at least about the most important ones.
I wish, Sir, that your meditations on this matter may have all the success you desire;
but to accomplish this, it is well to proceed in order and to establish your propositions.
This is the way to gain ground and make sure progress. I believe you would oblige
the public also by conveying to it, from time to time, selections from the Academy and
especially from Plato, for I know that there are things in them more beautiful and
substantial than is usually thought.
II. NOTES ON THE REPLY OF FOUCHER TO THE CRITICISM OF HIS

CRITICISM OF THE 'RECHERCHE DE LA VERITE'6
1676
On page 30. An idea is that by which one perception or thought differs from another
with respect to its object.
On page 33. Though they are not extended, ideas can serve the mind to know exten-
sion, for there can be a relation between what is extended and what is not, as for
example, between an angie and the arc by which it is measured.
On page 39. Idea can be taken in two senses; namely, for the quality or form of
thought, as velocity and direction are the quality and form of movement; or for the
immediate or nearest object of perception. Thus the idea would not be a mode of
being of our soul. This seems to be the opinion of Plato and the author of the Recherche.
For when the soul thinks of being, identity, thought, or duration, it has a certain
immediate object or nearest cause of its perception. In this sense it is possible that we
see all things in God and that the ideas or immediate objects are the attributes of God
himself. These formulas or modes of speaking contain some truth, but to speak
correctly it is necessary to give constant meanings to the terms. 7
On page 56. The author says that traces are necessary for us to conserve a memory of
things. But this does not seem so certain to me. Those who ascribe memory to the
separate soul will not agree to it. By what trace does the soul remember that it has beC¥1
and has thought?
On page 63. The author seems to reason as follows. When we speak of being,
thought, etc., the traces of these words are not naturally joined to the ideas. Therefore
there must be some traces which are joined immediately to the ideas. But perhaps they
can be joined immediately without being joined naturally. One must investigate the
means we might use to make men who do not understand our language grasp the
meaning of the words: to be and to think. This would be done, it seems to me, by
showing them specimens and giving them negatively to understand that the words
which we use signify what they experience or perceive in themselves or in the things,
over and above what they see, hear, or touch. Thus they can be made to understand
these words, not through traces but through the negation of traces. Once understood,
these words will serve as traces, though arbitrary, for the future. It would be necessary
to observe more exactly how infants learn language by hearing adults and without an
interpreter ....
On page 120. The author is right in saying that thought is not the essence of the soul,
for a thought is an act, and since one thought succeeds another, that which remains
during this change must necessarily rather be the essence of the soul, since it remains
always the same. The essence of substances consists in the primitive force of action, or
in the law of the sequence of changes, as the nature of the series consists in the num-
bers.8
REFERENCES
1 For an account of Leibniz's activities in Paris see L. Daville, 'Le Sejour de Leibniz a Paris',
Archiv fiir Geschichte der Phil. 32 (1920), 142ft'.; 33 (1920), 67ft'., 165ft'. This letter is in French,
a new accomplishment of Leibniz. The date follows PA., rather than G., who surmises 1676.
2 The figure of Ariadne's thread, by which Theseus made his way out of the Cretan labyrinth,
served Leibniz to illumine the purpose of his proposed universal characteristic and general
science.
S That is, metaphysics. The allusion is clearly to the Meditations on First Philosophy.
4 Giles Personne de Roberval (1602-75) was for over 40 years the occupant of the famous
chair established by Ramus at the Royal College.
S Leibniz here puts the argument for an external world in its causal form, which will have to be
modified after his later view of the self-determination of individual substances has been devel-
oped. But he always argues that the complex and coherent nature of our perceptions is the
evidence for an external world.
6 The text of these notes is taken from F. Rabbe, L 'Abbe Simon Foucher, Paris 1867, Appendix
p. xIii. In his letter to Foucher, Leibniz has virtually admitted that human analysis cannot
advance from truths of fact to the simple primary truths upon which they rest. These notes,
on the other hand, show that he has not abandoned the realm of ideas and absolute truths as a
foundation for all knowledge.
7 Leibniz's own view of ideas, to judge by his later definition in No. 21, includes both senses
given here, if 'form' is taken in a Platonic sense.
S If this sentence is not a later revision note, it is an early appearance of Leibniz's conception
both ofthe individual law or notion (cf. No. 35) and of primitive force.
12
SELECTIONS FROM THE PARIS NOTES

1676
The many philosophical notes which Leibniz made in Paris have been only imperfectly and
very incompletely published. Those translated here were edited by 1. Jagodinski in 1913.
Written hastily, often rej/ecting the excitement of initial, untested exploration, with
sentences incomplete and opinions sometimes reversed within the same fragment, they
indicate the entire range of Leibniz's metaphysical problems - that of the infinite in space
and time, that of the metaphysical foundations of a logic of analysis and synthesis and its
compatibility with a genuine individualism. Leibniz takes a critical attitude toward the
Cartesian and Spinozistic dualism of extension and thought. There is a strong interest in
self-experience, which serves to offset the continuing trend toward monism and immanen-
tism.
February 11, 1676

[Jag., pp. 28-40]
After rightly weighing matters, I set up as a principle the harmony of things, that is, the
principle that the greatest possible quantity of essence exists. It follows that there is
more reason for the existent than for the nonexistent and that all things would exist
if this were possible for them. For since something exists, but all possibles cannot
exist, it follows that those things exist which contain the most essence, since there is no
other reason for choosing them and excluding others.l So there will exist, before all
things, the being that is the most perfect of all possible beings.
The reason is obvious, moreover, why most perfect beings should exist before all
things, because, being at once both simple and perfect or including a maximum, they
leave most room for others. Hence one perfect being is to be preferred to many equiv-
alent imperfect beings, because since the latter occupy space and time, they impede
the existence of others. From this principle it already follows that there is no vacuum
offorms; likewise there is no vacuum in space and time to the extent that this is possi-
ble. Hence it follows that no time can be designated in which something does not
occur, and no space which is not as full as it can be. We must therefore see what follows
from the fulness of the world. But above all we will prove that besides fluids there must
also exist solids, for these are more perfect than fluids, since they contain more
essence. But not all things can be solid, for then they would impede each other. There
are therefore solids mixed in with fluids. It does not seem possible to explain the ori-
gins of solids from the motion of fluids alone. All solids seem (if I may say so in
passing) to be informed with a certain mind ....
Whether atoms seem consistent with reason? If any atom once subsists, it will always
subsist, for the surrounding liquid matter will strive to dissipate it because its motion
is agitated, as can easily be shown. If any large body which resists dissipation to some

extent moves in a liquid, it will at once form a kind of island and a vortex. It seems to
follow from a solid in a liquid that perfectly fluid matter is nothing but a multitude of
infinitely small points or of bodies less than any assignable ones, or that there is
necessarily an interspersed metaphysical vacuum; this does not conflict with a physical
plenum. A metaphysical vacuum is an empty place, however small, yet true and real.
A physical plenum is consistent with an unassignable metaphysical vacuum. Perhaps
it follows from this that matter is divided into perfect points or into all the parts into
which it can be divided. No absurdity follows from this, for it would follow that a
perfect fluid is not a continuum but discrete or a multitude of points. From this it does
not further follow that the continuum is composed of points, since liquid matter will
not be a true continuum, though space will be. Hence it is clear, further, how great
the difference between space and matter. Matter alone can be explained by a plurality
without continuity. And matter seems in fact to be a discrete being. For though it is
assumed to be solid, matter taken without a cement, through the motion of another
body, for example, will be reduced to a state of liquidity or divisibility. Hence it follows
that it is composed of points. This I prove as follows: every perfect liquid is com-
posed of points, because it can be dissolved into points, namely, by the motion of
a solid within it. Matter therefore is discrete being, not continuous. It is merely con-
tiguous and is united by motion or by some mind.
There seems to be a certain center to the whole universe, and an infinite general
vortex, and a most perfect mind, or God. And this mind is a whole in the whole body
of the world; to it is due also the existence of the world. It itself is its own cause. Exis-
tence is nothing but that which is the cause of sensations agreeing among themselves.
The reason for the world is the aggregate of requisites of all things. Concerning
the one, concerning God. The whole infinite is one. That particular minds exist amounts
merely to this - that the highest being judges it conducive to harmony that there
should be somewhere something that understands, i.e. some intellectual mirror or a
reduplication of the world. To exist is nothing other than to be harmonious; the mark
of existence is organized sensations.
From the fact that something exists, it follows that there is some necessity for it, and
hence either that all things are necessary in themselves (which is false) or that their ulti-
mate causes are necessary. Hence it follows that an absolutely necessary being is possible
or does not imply a contradiction. It follows therefore that it exists. Whence it is to be
seen whether this being can be demonstrated to be unique, etc. Furthermore, since some
things exist, and certain things do not exist, it follows that there must exist most perfect
Elements 0/a Secret Philosophy 0/ the Whole o/Things, geometrically demonstrated. " .
God is not a kind of imaginary metaphysical being. incapable of thought, will, and
action, as some make him. This would be the same as to say that God is nature, fate,
fortune, necessity, or the world. But God is a definite substance, a person, a mind.
These meditations could be entitled On the Secrets o/the Sublime, or also De summa
rerum. It was the extreme abstractions of certain imagined philosophers, who reduced
God to a kind of imperceptible nothing, that caused Vorst, indignant against opinions
so chimerical and contrary to the divine honor, to make God corporeal and enclose
him in a definite place in order to show that he is a substance and a person. 2 It must
be shown that God is a person or substance, an intelligence. It must be demonstrated
rigorously that he feels himself to act upon himself. For there is nothing more admi-
rable than for the same being to feel and to be acted upon by himself.
The whole labyrinth about the composition of the continuum must be unraveled as
rigorously as possible; see the book of Fromond. 3 Treatment of the angle of the
tangent, for this discussion belongs not to geometry but to metaphysics. We must see
whether it can be demonstrated that there is something infinitely small yet not indi-
visible; from the existence of such a being there follow wonderful things about the
infinite; namely if we assume creatures of another, infinitely small world, we will be
infinite in comparison with them. Hence we can clearly be assumed to be infinitely
small in comparison with another world of infinite magnitude, yet bounded. Hence it is
clear that the infinite is other than the unbounded, as we surely assume popularly.
This unbounded infinite should more rightly be called the immensum. It is remark-
able that one who has lived an infinite number of years can have had a beginning and
that one who lives a number of years greater than any finite number can sometime die.
From this it would follow that there is an infinite number. From another viewpoint, it
is clear that there must be infinite number if a liquid is really divided into parts infinite
in number. But if this is impossible, it will follow too that a liquid is impossible. Since
we see that the hypothesis of infinites and infinitesimals turns out to be consistent in
geometry, this also increases the probability that it is true.
All possibilities cannot be understood distinctly by anyone, for they imply a contra-
diction. The most perfect being is that which contains the most. Such a being is
capable of ideas and thoughts, for this multiplies the varieties of things like a mirror.
Hence God is necessarily a thinking being, and if he is not a thinking being, the whole
will be more perfect than he. An omniscient and omnipotent being is the most perfect.
A thinking being is therefore even necessary, and some things which do not exist are
at least thought - those, namely, worthy to be thought above others; and so, since
every possible event is thinkable, some are nonetheless chosen which will be thought in
reality. There are beautiful discoveries and clever images of the harmony of things.
That has most harmony which is most pleasing to the most perfect of minds. If God is
mind or person, it follows by reason of God and of the other minds that there must
exist whatever can be demonstrated about the supreme State, whose King is most wise
and most powerful. Hence no one in the world need ever be wretched unless he wills
to be. It seems consistent with our reason that only he will remain wretched who wills
to do so .... All things are good for him who believes, who loves God, who trusts in
God. All things are good, not merely in general but also in particular, to whoever
understands this. I do not see why eternal damnation is not consistent with the
harmony of things. It is possible for this damnation to be of infinite duration but not
unterminated. That this is probable is consistent with the harmony of things.
It does not seem credible that any mind whatever should undergo all possible
variations and sometime be wretched and evil; for it also does not seem that the fates
of all are equalized, since whatever displeases the understanding of the wise man
should, it seems, also displease God. For it seems to be reasonable that the wise man
should be content. It does not seem that the wise man will be content, however, if he
knows that he will sometime be wretched, or if he doubts whether he has not already
been wretched sometime or will be hereafter - unless we say that this can be under-
stood only of the past. And anyone whatever who is wise and happy at the present
moment ought to be certain that he never will be either unwise or unhappy. Every
relapse is a sign that he who has relapsed never was truly wise. From this it follows
that all happiness is unbounded but that no wretchedness is without limits, though it

can be eternal. And so the blessed will be happy for a longer time than the doomed
will be unhappy, since the grace of God consists of the abundant gift of the will. For
happiness is in the power of him who has a good will ....
Every mind is of unbounded duration. Every mind also is implanted indissolubly
in certain matter. This matter is of definite magnitude. Every mind has a vortex
around it. All the mundane spheres are perhaps endowed with mind; such intelligen-
ces do not seem absurd. The objection too is that they will not have sufficiently free
motion, but since they understand their duty (officium) and communicate with God
through the mutual influences of the bodies which they sense, they will not affect a
variety of motion. Everywhere there are innumerable minds. There are minds in the
human egg even before conception, and they are not lost even if conception never
takes place. We are ignorant of the wonderful uses to which things are destined by
providence ....
II
April,1676
[Jag., pp. 94-99]
Extension and thought are complex forms, for existence, duration, etc., are common
to them. 4 Both thinking and extension have duration in common, but what it is for
one form to be more highly structured than another is a strange thing. Thus forms
differ in this respect: some involve more relations and some less. For example, thought
has both subject and object, extension has merely a subject. Yet it seems that self-
consciousness is something per se, just as is extension per se, namely, a state; for in
self-consciousness subject and object are the same. It if is true that there is no memory
without traces and that the traces in bodies of thoughts about incorporeal things are
not natural but arbitrary, or characters 5 (for there is no necessary connection of
representation between the incorporeal and the corporeal), it follows that there is
no knowledge or reasoning without characters, because all reasoning or demonstration
takes place through a memory of premises. But as we have assumed, there is no mem-
ory without characters or images ....
A remarkable thing, that the subject is something other than forms or attributes.
This is necessary because nothing can be said about forms because of their simplicity.
Therefore no proposition would be true unless forms are united in a subject. Thought
is not duration, but a thinking being is an enduring one. And in this consists the
difference between substance and forms. It is to be seen whether thought is rightly said
to endure, to change, to be .... Any simple form whatever is an attribute of God.
There are necessarily simple forms or perceptions per se, because if things are perceived
only through others, and these others again are perceivable only through others
still, and so forth, nothing at all will be perceived. In those things in which there is
variety, such as color, there is a reason why this variety is not perceived distinctly by us.
This is because we perceive color in a definite period of time. But this time can be sub-
divided into infinite parts, in each of which we do something pertaining to the percep-
tion, which we do not remember, however, because of a defect in our organs. But the
things which are perceived in a single act, such as being, perception, extension, are
understood perfectly....
... Rightly understood, forms are conceived per se, and subjects through forms.
This is what subjects are. But that whose modifications depend on the attributes of
something else, in which, namely, all its requisites are contained, is certainly conceived
through something else; that is, it cannot be perfectly understood except by under-
standing another. Two things are connected if one cannot be understood without the
other. Those things are requisites which connect something else, but not the converse.
A reason is the sum of requisites. Sensible things cannot be perfectly understood by us,
because an infinite number of things concur in constituting them, since time and
space are infinitely divisible. Hence the perception of a sensible quality is not one
perception but an aggregate of infinites ....
... Aristotle saw that a separate intellect does not remember, because there is no
memory without imagination. For my part, it seems to me that there is some memory
per se of our perception but not of a perception of variety. And so there will be neither
joy nor grief without images, and no images without reminiscence.... It seems to me
that without memory nothing that happens after death pertains to us. So there will be
some memory after death, such as there is in faIling asleep. This operation of the mind
seems most remarkable to me. It seems that when I think of myself thinking and
already know, between the thoughts themselves, what I think of my thoughts, and a
little later marvel at this triplication of reflection, then I turn upon myself wondering
and do not know how to admire this admiration. ... It sometimes happens that I
cannot forget something, but involuntarily think of the same thing for almost an hour,
and then think of this difficulty in thinking and stupefy myself into reflections through
perpetual reflections, so that I almost begin to doubt that I shall ever think of anything
else and begin to fear that this direction of mind has harmed me. ... Anyone who
desires an experience of these matters should begin to think of himself and his thinking
sometime in the middle of the night, perhaps when he cannot sleep, and think of the
perception of perceptions and marvel at this condition of his, so that he comes gra-
dually to turn more and more within himself or to rise above himself, as if by a
succession of spurts of his mind. He wiII wonder that he has never before experienced
this state of mind. We are thus never without other perceptions than sense, for we
sense within ourselves this direction of the mind by which we are led back within
ourselves and suppress externals. The fatigue which accompanies pure thought
certainly often arises from this. I have noticed further that this perception of percep-
tion also occurs without characters and therefore that memory does also. For to
perceive perception, or to sense that I have sensed, is to remember, as Hobbes says.
I do not yet adequately experience how these different acts of the mind take place in
this continually reciprocating reflection, as it were, in the intervals between these acts,
but they seem to be made by a distinguishing sense of the bodily direction. But if you
observe well, this act wiII merely make you remember that you already had this in
mind a little previously, that is, this reflection of reflection, and so you observe it and
designate it by a distinct image accompanying it. Therefore it already was in your mind
earlier, and so perception of perception goes on perpetually in the mind to infinity.
In it consists the existence of the mind per se and the necessity of its continuation.
III
April 15, 1676
[Jag., pp. 108-10]
In our mind there is perception or a sense of itself as of a certain specific thing; this is

always in us, because, as often as we use the name, we at once recognize it. As often
as we will, we recognize that we perceive our thoughts, that is, that we have thought a
little earlier. Therefore intellectual memory consists not in what we sense but in that
we sense - that are we those who sense. This is what we commonly call identity. This
faculty in us is independent of externals. I do not see how a man or a mind can die or
be extinguished while these reflections last. Something remains in modifications, not as
extension in itself remains in space, but as a certain particular thing endowed with
definite modifications, since, namely, it perceives one thing or another. This sense of
one's particular self is without other characters, which I have well noted when I was
thinking and reflecting.... If this is the nature of mind, and it consists in the perception
of itself, I do not see how it can ever be impeded or destroyed, as I have said earlier,
because the identity of the mind is not destroyed by any modifications and therefore
is not destroyed by anything - as can easily be shown. I therefore believe that solidity
or unity of body comes from the mind and that there are as many minds as vortices, as
many vortices as there are solid bodies. A body resists, and this resistance is sense.
The body namely resists what attempts to divide it. Sense is a kind of reaction. An
incorruptible body and mind alike. Various organs around it are changed variously.
. .. My opinion is that all true beings or minds, which alone are unities, increase always
in perfection and that every impression which is made on the body has an effect into
infinity. Minds will be for a while reduced into themselves; then they will retum, per-
haps to the sense of external things, perhaps to some far different nature. Sometime
there will be an intercourse of all the spheres of the world with each other. Once
brought into this theater minds will advance to more and more perfection. It is im-
possible to believe that the effect of all perceptions will ever disappear, since the effect
of all other actions lasts always. This would happen only if the mind were obliterated.
So I do not accept Spinoza's opinion that the individual mind is extinguished with
the body, for mind somehow remembers what has preceded, and this is over and
above what is merely eternal in mind - the idea of the body, or its essence ....
IV
April,1676
[Jag., pp. 1200.]
Simple forms: perception and situs. But change and matter, or modifications, them-
selves are resultants from all the other forms taken at the same time. For they vary
infinitely in matter and motion. This infinite variety can arise only from an infinite
cause, that is, from various forms. It is easily understood from this that Simple forms
are infinite. The modifications, however, which result from all forms, when related to
individuals, constitute the variety in them .... Perception and situs seem to be every-
where, but matter seems to be diversified into this order or that, and thus there arises
this set of laws or that; as for example, the law in our order that the same quantity of
motion is always conserved. There can be another order of things, in which there are
also other laws. But one space nonetheless differs from another, for there will be a
certain position and plurality, but will not necessarily be width, breadth, or depth. We
already see that in time, in the angle, and in other things, the kinds of quantities have
new varieties .... Everywhere there seems to be perception, joy, happiness. For this is
the remarkable nature of it - that it duplicates, indeed multiplies into infinity the
variety of things. But diversity seems to be possible in other ways which do not occur
to our minds.
God is the subject of all absolute simple forms; absolute, that is, affirmative. There
are therefore two things in God: that which is one in all forms, and essence or the
collection of forms. Obviously one and the same God is absolutely ubiquitous or
omnipresent, absolutely enduring or eternal, absolutely active or omnipotent, and
absolutely existent or perfect. To be is in some way to think in relation to something.
No one is unless he is something. To whatever existence is absolutely ascribed, i.e.,
existence without a determinate addition, to that as much existence must be ascribed
as possible, that is, the maximum .
... As space is to the immensum, so the collection of all minds is to the active
intellect. God is primary intelligence insofar as he is omniscient, or insofar as he con-
tains that absolute affirmative form which is ascribed by limitation to all others who
are said to perceive something. In this manner God is the immensum itself, insofar as
a perfection is ascribed to him (that is, this absolute affirmative form) which is disco-
vered in things when they are said to be somewhere, to be present....
God is not a part of our mind, just as the immensum is not a part of a certain place or
interval. Just as God is that which perceives perfectly whatever can be perceived, or is
intelligence, so God is also that which is somewhere perfectly wherever something
can be. Just as God is intelligence, therefore, he is also this immensum. Furthermore,
universal space is being by aggregation, just as is the universal state, or the society of
all minds. But there is a difference here, since position or a spatial interval can be
destroyed ... but the soul cannot be destroyed. Whatever acts cannot be destroyed,
for at least it lasts while it acts; therefore it wiII last always. Whatever suffers and does
not act can be destroyed; so place, figure, body, and every aggregate can be destroyed.
There seem to be elements or indestructible bodies because there is mind in them. As a
figure is already in the immensum before it is marked off, so an idea or the differentia of
thoughts is already in the primary intelligence. As a figure is in space, just so an idea
is in our mind. There is no world soul, because there can be no continuum composed of
minds, as there can be of spaces. '" Ideas are in our mind as differentiae of thoughts.
Ideas are in God insofar as the most perfect being consists in the conjunction of all
absolute forms or possible perfections in the same object. But from this conjunction of
possible simple forms there result modifications, that is, ideas, as properties from
essence. Simple forms are infinite because our perceptions are infinite, and they
cannot be explained out of the mutual relation of the two. Thus no one can explain
from the knowledge of perception and extension alone, what we sense in red, bright,
hot, nor can this ever be done except then, when . ... In us joy is a sense of increased
perfection; in God joy is perfection itself, the whole possessed together.... It seems
that the total perfection of minds always increases, while that of bodies is not increased,
for such increase would be in vain, and this is the true reason a priori why forces al-
ways remain constant, powers always remaining the same while our knowledge does not.
Whether mind is the idea of the body? This cannot be, because mind remains while
the body continuously changes. And of what body should it be the idea; why not
rather of all that it perceives? ...
The idea of existence and identity does not come from the body; neither does that
of unity. A remarkable thing, that mind remembers negatives, or is conscious that it
has not thought of something.

It seems so me that the origin of things from God is like the origin of properties
from essence; since 6 is 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1, it follows that 6 = 3 + 3 = 3 x 2 =
+
4 2, etc. And we cannot doubt that one of these expressions differs from another,
for thinking in one way we think expressly of 3 or 2, and in another way we do not
think of the same numbers. ... Just as these properties differ from each other and
from their essence, therefore, so also do things differ from each other and from God.
I use the word 'thing' deliberately, for we customarily say that God is a being; we do
not usually call him a thing. 6 •••
REFERENCES
1 Cf. p. 147, note 1. The principle of the best possible is here given its mathematical scientific
force as the principle of the maximum or extremum.
2 Conrad von dem Vorst, Protestant theologian banished from Holland in 1619 for his
heterodoxy, published his Tractatus theologicus de Deo in 1610.
3 On Fromond see p. 60, n. 22.
4 Thus extension and thought are not simple attributes, as in Descartes and Spinoza. Yet
Leibniz's theory of the immensum as the basis of extended beings, and active intellect as the
basis of minds, as developed in these notes, carries signs of the influence of Spinoza as well as of
Malebranche.
5 Characters are signs or symbols; they are here treated as physical but subjective and the
basis of memory and thought.
6 It is significant that these notes were written soon after Leibniz had devised the symbols and
operations of the calculus of differentials. The simple illustration of the different number sets
emerging from 6 serves to illustrate his metaphysics of individual series, sharing some simple
essences, but each a different functional expression of the underlying harmony of ideas in God.
13
LETTER TO HENRY OLDENBURG

December 28, 1675
Henry Oldenburg was one of the secretaries of the London Royal Society and a corre-
spondent of Spinoza and other scholars. Leibniz had exchanged letters with him inter-
mittently since 1670, receiving from him important information about the affairs of the
Royal Society and other matters of scholarly interest in England. It was Oldenburg who
in 1676 transmitted the two letters of Newton upon which the later charge ofplagiarism
of the calculus was based. The present letter is an early proposal by Leibniz of his plan
for a universal characteristic or science of symbols. It also suggests that a casual reading
of Robert Boyle prompted him to return to his earlier project of an Elementa de mente.
[GM., I, 83-84]
I am indebted to you for your two letters, and I ask you not to take my silence too ill.
For I am often interrupted and take up these studies only at intervals.
Your sending Tschirnhaus to us is a token of your friendship, for I take great
delight in his company and recognize outstanding ability in the youth. His discoveries
are very promising, and he has shown me a number of elegant ones in analysis and
geometry. I can easily judge from this what may be expected from him. Long ago he
asked me, in writing to you, to beg your indulgence for his silence. And I should add
in his behalf that he has not lacked diligence in searching for the manuscripts of
Roberval, Pascal, and Fermat, though he has in part lacked success. l •••
I ask you to commend me to the illustrious Mr. Boyle when occasion offers. I esteem
him as highly as the virtue and learning of man can be esteemed. I recently read his
diatribe, 'That Theological Studies Are Not To be Condemned'; it made a deep im-
pression on me and confirmed me in the purpose, which you know I already had a
long time ago, of treating the science of mind through geometric demonstrations. I
have made many remarkable observations in this field and shall sometime publish
them, presented with the rigor which they deserve.
I cannot reconcile myself to certain Cartesian views on this subject. Descartes builds
many things upon ideas which I suspect of being sophisms. But in the body, too, there
is something necessary besides extension. The distinction between mind and matter is
therefore not yet clear from the distinction between thought and extension. But another
principle has been given us by the nature of things, from which the perennial duration
of the mind can be established by direct demonstration. Whatever the conclusions
which the Scholastics, Valerianus Magnus, Descartes, and others derived from the
concept of that being whose essence it is to exist, they remain weak as long as it is not
established whether such a being is possible, provided it can be thought. To assert such
a thing is easy; to understand it is not so easy. Assuming that such a being is possible
or that there is some idea corresponding to these words, it certainly follows that such

a being exists. But we believe that we are thinking of many things (though confusedly)
which nevertheless imply a contradiction; for example, the number of all numbers. We
ought strongly to suspect the concepts of infinity, of maximum and minimum, of the
most perfect, and of allness [omninitas] itself. Nor ought we to believe in such concepts
until they have been tested by that criterion I seem to recognize, and which renders
truth stable, Visible, and irresistible, so to speak, as on a mechanical basis. Such a
criterion nature has granted us as an inexplicable kindness.
Algebra, which we rightly hold in such esteem, is only a part of this general device.
Yet algebra accomplished this much - that we cannot err even if we wish and that
truth can be grasped as if pictured on paper with the aid of a machine. I have come to
understand that everything of this kind which algebra proves is only due to a higher
science, which I now usually call a combinatorial characteristic 2, though it is far differ-
ent from what may first occur to someone hearing these words. I hope sometime, given
health and leisure, to explain its remarkable force and power by rules and examples.
I cannot encompass the nature of the method in a few words. Yet I should venture to
say that nothing more effective can well be conceived for perfecting the human mind
and that if this basis for philosophizing is accepted, there will come a time, and it will
be soon, when we shall have as certain knowledge of God and the mind as we now have
of figures and numbers and when the invention of machines will be no more difficult
than the construction of geometric problems. And when these studies have been com-
pleted - though there will always remain to be studied the choicest harmonies of an
infinity of theorems, but by observation from day to day rather than by toil- men will
return to the investigation of nature alone, which will never be entirely completed. For
in experiments good luck is mixed with genius and industry.
Once men carry our method through to the end, therefore, they will always philoso-
phize in the manner of Boyle, except insofar as nature itself, to the degree to which it is
known and can be subjected to this calculus and to the degree that new qualities are
discovered and reduced to this mechanism, will also give to geometricians new material
to which to apply it. But the enthusiasm of writing is carrying me further than I
intended and makes me speak somewhat incoherently.
REFERENCES
1 Walter von Tschirnhaus came to Paris with Oldenburg'S recommendation and worked with
Leibniz during the winter in which his discoveries of the calculus were made. It was he who
brought Leibniz his first information about Spinoza's Ethics.
2 The term shows a transition from the Ars combinatoria of 1666 to the Ars characteristica of
1678 and the years following.
14
TWO NOTATIONS FOR DISCUSSION WITH SPINOZA

1676
On his prolongedjourney from Paris to Hanover by way of England and Holland, Leibniz
visited Spinoza and as he wrote to the Abbe Gallois in 1677, "spoke with him several
times andfor very long".1 The terminology and ideas in the following notations correspond
closely to those of the Paris notes, but the problems arise out of Spinoza's views. They
contain an effort to find a firmer basis for the ontological argument and point to the
distinction between logical possibility and compossibility in existence.
1. THAT A MOST PERFECT BEING EXISTS

November, 1676
[G., VII, 261-62; PA., II, i, 271-72]
By a perfection I mean every simple quality which is positive and absolute or which
expresses whatever it expresses without any limits. 2
But because a quality of this kind is simple, it is unanalyzable or indefinable, for
otherwise either it will not be one simple quality but an aggregate of many or, if it is
one, it will be contained within limits and hence will be understood through negation of
what is beyond these limits; which is contrary to hypothesis, since it is assumed to be
purely positive.
From this it is not difficult to show that all perfections are compatible with each other
or can be in the same subject.
For let us assume that there is a proposition of this kind: A and B are incompatible,
understanding by A and B two simple forms or perfections of this kind. It makes no
difference if more than two are assumed simultaneously. It is clear that this propo-
sition cannot be demonstrated without an analysis of the terms A and B, either or both,
for otherwise their nature would not enter into the reasoning, and incompatibility
could be demonstrated equally as well about any other things as about themselves.
And by hypothesis they are unanalyzable. Therefore this proposition cannot be
demonstrated about them.
But it could certainly be demonstrated about them if it were true, since this propo-
sition is not true by itself. For all propositions which are necessarily true are either
demonstrable or known per se. Therefore this proposition is not necessarily true, or it is
not necessary that A and B should not 3 be in the same subject. Therefore they can be
in the same subject. And since this reasoning is the same for any other assumed
qualities of this kind whatsoever, it follows that all perfections are compatible.
Therefore there is, or can be conceived, a subject of all perfections or a most perfect
being. Hence it is clear that this being exists, since existence is contained in the number
of perfections. 4
[Leibniz later added the following notes.]

The same can be shown also offorms compounded out of absolutes, provided there
are any. I showed this reasoning to Mr. Spinoza when I was in The Hague. He thought
it sound, for when he contradicted it at first, I put it in writing and gave him this paper.
Scholium. Descartes's reasoning about the existence of a most perfect being assumed
that such a being can be conceived or is possible. If it is granted that there is such a
concept, it follows at once that this being exists, because we set up this very concept in
such a way that it at once contains existence. But it is asked whether it is in our power
to set up such a being, or whether such a concept has reality and can be conceived
clearly and distinctly, without contradiction. For opponents will say that such a
concept of a most perfect being, or a being which exists through its essence, is a
chimera. Nor does it suffice for Descartes to appeal to experience and allege that he
experiences this very concept in himself, clearly and distinctly. This is not to complete
the demonstration but to break it off, unless he shows a way in which others can also
arrive at an experience of this kind. For whenever we inject experience into our
demonstrations, we ought to show how others can produce the same experience, unless
we are trying to convince them solely through our own authority.
Propositions for which a demonstration is needed.
Prop. 2. Two substances with diverse attributes have nothing in common with
each other.
Prop. 5. There cannot be in the universe two or more substances with the same
attribute.
Prop. 10. Every attribute of a single substance must be conceived through itself.
Prop. 22, 23. About infinite modes.
Sch. 31. Intellect and will must be referred to natura naturata and not to natura
naturans.
Part 2: 19,20 seem to conflict. However, 26: Therefore there is an idea of an idea.
29,49.
II
December 2,1676 5
[Cout. OF., pp. 529-30]
There is no need of many worlds to increase the multitude of things, for there is no
number which is not contained in this one world and, indeed even in anyone of its
parts.
To introduce another kind of existing things, and another world, so to speak, which
is also infinite, is to abuse the word 'existence', for we cannot say whether or not
these things exist now. But existence as it is conceived by us involves some determinate
time, or we say that a thing exists precisely if we can say about it at some definite
moment of time, 'This thing exists now.' 6
A multitude of things is greater in the whole than in a part; this is true in an infinite
multitude as well. It is not useless to discuss the vacuum of forms, in order to show
that not all possibles per se can exist along with others; otherwise many absurdities
would follow. Nothing, however unreasonable, could be conceived which would not be
in the world, not merely monsters but evil and wretched minds, and injustices, and
there would be no reason for calling God good rather than evil, just rather than unjust.
There would be some world in which all good people would be punished by eternal
punishments, and all bad people rewarded, or wickedness expiated by happiness.
The immortality of the mind must be taken as proved at once by my method, be-
cause it is possible within itself and compossible with all other things, or it does not
impede the course of things. For minds have no volume. My principle, namely, is that
whatever can exist and is compatible with other things does exist, because the reason
for existing in preference to other possibles cannot be limited by any other consider-
ation than that not all things are compatible. Thus there is no other reason for deter-
mining existences than that the more perfect shall exist, that is, those things which
involve the greatest possible reality.
If all possibles existed, no reason for existing would be needed, and possibility alone
would suffice. Therefore there would be no God except insofar as he is possible. But
such a God as the pious hold to would not be possible if the opinion of those is true
who believe that all possibles exist.
REFERENCES
1 PA., II, i, 379. Leibniz also refers to his visit with Spinoza in the Theodicy, III, Sec. 376, and
in later letters (G., VI, 339; PA., II, i, 535).
2 Leibniz's argument therefore rests on his identification of the simple concepts of his combi-
natoriallogic with the perfections of God. Sense data are not simple but infinitely complex.
That degrees of perfection and degrees of reality correspond is the common Neo-Platonic
assumption of Leibniz and Spinoza. But the ontological argument fails when Leibniz adInits
that not all possible essences attain existence, so that though God remains the seat of all
perfections, existence is but the best possible of these. For the further development of this dif-
ficulty see Nos. 16, 20, and 31, I, ii.
3 The non is misplaced in G., VII, 261, with a distortion of the meaning.
4 Leibniz's original note ends here. What follows was added later.
S This was the day after an interview with Spinoza. Cf. Couturat, 'Sur la metaphysique de
Leibniz', Revue de mbaphysique et de morale 10 (1902), 12.
6 Time is thus the principle of the existence of compossible events which would involve con-
tradiction if regarded as eternal essences.
PART II
HANOVER TO THE ITALIAN JOURNEY

1676-87
15
ON A METHOD OF ARRIVING AT A TRUE ANALYSIS

OF BODIES AND THE CAUSES OF NATURAL THINGS
May, 1677
The first of the three rulers under whom Leibniz served at Hanover also allowed him the
greatest freedom for his own intellectual activities. The few years preceding John Frede-
rick's death late in 1679 were among the most creative in his life, involving many studies
for the revived Catholic Demonstrations and for the new projects of a universal charac-
teristic, a logical calculus, and an encyclopedia. Among these studies is a short paper
applying the method of analysis and synthesis to phYSical and chemical problems, in
which the empirical and utilitarian motives in his thought are expressed. Leibniz's con-
ception of experimental controls and of the pragmatic limits of chemical as opposed to
phYSical analysis is noteworthy. His interest in chemistry may have been revived at this
time by the discovery ofphosphorus, on which he first reported in the same year. 1
[G., VII, 265-69]
First of all, I take it to be certain that all things come about through certain intelligible
causes, or causes which we could perceive if some angel wished to reveal them to us. And
since we may perceive nothing accurately except magnitude, figure, motion, and per-
ception itself, it follows that everything is to be explained through these four. But
because we are now speaking of those things which seem to take place without percep-
tion, such as the reactions of liquids, the precipitations of saIts, etc., we have no means
of explaining them except through magnitude, figure, and motion, that is, through
mechanism. What cannot be explained in this way will here be referred to the action of
some perceiving being. Let us imagine, therefore, that some angel comes to explain to
me the true cause of magnetic declination and the periods observed in it. He will
surely not really satisfy me by saying that this is the nature of the magnet or that there
is a certain sympathy or a kind of soul in the magnet by which it happens. Rather he
must explain some cause to me, such that, if I understand it, I can see that the pheno-
mena follow from it as necessarily as the cause of the hammer stroke when a given time
has elapsed follows from my knowledge of a clock.
Bodies that are composite in appearance, such as a plant or an animal, are to be
reduced to bodies simple in appearance, such as flesh, tendons, glands, blood. Bodies
that are simple in appearance are to be reduced to those out of which or by the combi-
nation of which they can be produced. Thus brass, as it is called, is made out of copper
and zinc under the action of fire and air, and vitriol from sulfur or some other acid, and
copper or iron.
Since there is a circle involved in the processes of composition and production - for
example, sulfur can be produced again from vitriol, and we do not yet know whether

vitriol is prior in nature to sulfur or sulfur to vitriol - it should be sufficient for us to

determine a certain few classes [species] from which we can artificially produce a
variety of other classes and sensible qualities. For an effect is understood when its
cause is understood. Hence we can explain all remaining classes perfectly and mecha-
nistically from these few classes, if we know accurately what happens in the process of
preparation.
Among the other ingredients we must also count the general agents and instruments
- fire, air, water, earth - without which we cannot treat or prepare anything. We must
note also which kinds of fire, air, water, and earth intervene, and reduce these also to a
few simple ones. For it is certain that air contributes considerably to fire, that lime
increases its weight by fire, that some subtle force penetrates even glass, as in congeal-
ment, and that crystals take on something from water, since they spring up in solutions.
The vessels also contribute something to changes in preparations. Finally, the effect of
coal fire is different from that of the fire of a torch.
When the same effect is produced by the use of different ingredients or instruments,
this effect is to be explained by something which they have in common. When all
things, or at least most of them, have been reduced to certain few classes such as
saltpeter, common salt, sulfur, potash, soot, spirit of wine, then it will be necessary
merely to institute or describe as many experiments as possible to observe what hap-
pens when these classes are combined with each other; for example, when common
salt is put into soap, which is made by using potash and fat, earth is precipitated and the
fat floats on the water.
As many experiments as possible are to be carried out isolatedly, that is, as experi-
ments in which, besides one single homogeneous body, nothing enters into the process
but the general and necessary agents. Next, after the isolated experiments are comple-
ted, as many experiments as possible are to be tried with only two kinds taken together,
as with saltpeter and common salt alone, treating them in various ways by fire, water,
air; and by combining various products thus made, for instance, combining the prod-
ucts made with salt with each other as well as with those made with saltpeter. After
combinations, one should go on to the contemations, etc., or to the temions and
quaternions of the classes. 2
All experiments in which only a few elements are brought together are more useful
for science than others, because it is easier to discover in which element the cause lies
hidden. In experiments made by the combination of ~everal bodies, one must see
whether anything can be altered or eliminated without changing the results of the
experiment, as linseed oil, for example, from the ironmaking experiment.
Those experiments are to be tried first in which the analogy to other experiments
promises some special effect. It is likely that things which are similar in many known
factors will also be similar, or at least approximately so, in other factors not yet ex-
amined, but which seem to have a connection with the factors already tried. But
whether or not the result does show such similarity in the remaining factors, we will
always profit.
It is possible that bodies which are exceedingly subtle and cannot be caught or
perceived by sense in one substance can be caught in another. Thus the gas of wine
cannot yet be captured, but one can catch the gas of other bodies. In animals, too, we
find certain vessels and organs to be invisible in some species but distinctly noticeable
in others.
HANOVER TO THE ITALIAN JOURNEY, 1676-87 175
Especially are those experiments to be interpreted the success of which is reliable

and infallible. All experiments reported by others are also to be entered in a catalogue,
provided these experiments are certain and approved by common consent and very
distinctly described. 3
Bodies and preparations made from them are to be examined by means of the
instruments 0/ experimentation - scales, thermometers, hygrometers, pneumatic
pumps - and also by vision, whether naked or fortified, by smell, and by taste. I
believe there is no medium more effective than taste for discerning the essential nature
of bodies, because taste brings bodies to us in their substance and dissolves them in us
so that we may percei~e the whole solution closely. '
Not only microscopes are to be used but perfectly polished concave and spherical
mirrors of very large radius. The magnifying power of lenses varies inversely with
their diameters; that of mirrors, on the contrary, in direct proportion. Now diameters
can be increased to infinity but not decreased. Hence mirrors are more useful. Then
too, only the surface needs to be good in mirrors, and last of all, the whole body can
be made visible in one mirror, which is not possible in a microscope.
Probably the causes of what happens in bodies - especially in those homogeneous in
appearance - are not very complex, and if some angel were to unveil them and explain
them to us, we should perhaps be astonished that we had not discovered them earlier
ourselves. So it is also probable that those bodies which are homogeneous in appearance
are not so complex that we must despair of discovering their inner structure insofar
as this is necessary for our many purposes.
Although bodies may be divided into other subtler bodies to infinity, and it is incred-
ible that there should be any primary elements, this ought not to prevent us from
seeking causes. He who uses stones in architecture does not mind the bits of earth inter-
posed between them; he who uses water in hydraulics pays no attention to the air in it,
which can afterward be extracted by the Guericke pump; and he who uses earth to
raise a rampart does not think of the small stones scattered about in it but which do
not bother him. So we may believe that the effect of those very subtle bodies within the
bodies which we handle are no more relevant to the phenomena than are stones, or
even the imperceptible corpuscles which compose earth, to the strength of a bulwark.
If the invisible bodies which are hidden in visible ones and which enter noticeably
into the effect of our experiments were of so many kinds, then they would also be very
subtle. And if they w~re so subtle, they would change in the briefest moment, and bodies
such as saltpeter an~ sulfur would not remain so long in the same state or continue to
produce the same experimental results. If those bodies which contribute in causing the
phenomena were so inaccessible to us and so subtle, then some slight and superficial
mixture of two liquids could not produce such great effects, or else it would follow
that any mixture whatever could also produce the greatest effects.
The physical effects may be considerably intensified and reduced through slight
mechanical manipulations, such as shaking, stirring, beating, blowing, pouring in
water; for example, water suddenly poured over oil of vitriol produces amazing heat
which it does not make when slowly added in drops. Bodies are greatly changed by
trituration. All of these things are sure indications that the bodies which our crude
manipulations make perceptible so easily are not so inaccessible to us.
Analysis is of two kinds - one of bodies into various qualities, through phenomena
or experiments, the other of sensible qualities into their causes or reasons, by ratio-

cination. So when undertaking the most accurate reasoning, we must seek the formal
and universal causes of qualities which are common to all hypotheses and must begin
accurate but universal enumerations of all possible modifications, such as those of
weight, elasticity, light or heat, coldness, liquidity, firmness, tenacity, volatility, fixity,
solubility, precipitation from menses, crystallization. If we combine these analyses
with experiments, we shall discover in any substance whatever the cause of its qualities.
But this can be very effectively achieved through definitions and a philosophic lan-
guage. 4
REFERENCES
1 Leibniz published 'Le phosphore de M. Krafft, ou liqueur de terre seiche de sa composition

qui jettent continuellement de grands eclats de lumiere' in the Journal des savants, August 2,
1677. Not only Krafft but the original discoverer, Brand, visited Hanover to promote the
manufacture of phosphorus. See also Leibniz's letter to Huygens, 1679 (No. 27, I). Fontenelle
considered Leibniz's description of phosphorus, in his eulogy at John Frederick's death in
1679, as one ofthe finest productions of modem Latin poetry.
2 The terminology and the method of applying the theory of combinations are still those of
the De arte combinatoria (1666).
3 On the nature of distinct knowledge see No. 33, below.
4 The last sentence is a later notation in Leibniz's handwriting (the text is in the copy of a
secretary, with some corrections by Leibniz). His account of the role of material analysis in
technology may be compared with his later discussions of conceptual analysis in Nos. 18,
25, 32, and 69, II.
16
LETTER TO ARNOLD ECKHARD

Summer, 1677
Soon after his arrival in Hanover, Leibniz was sought out by a zealous Cartesian, Arnold
Eckhard, professor of mathematics at Rinteln. Gerhard Molanus, the genial and learned
abbot of Loccum, near Hanover, brought the two men together for a philosophical dis-
cussion of the Cartesian conception of being, particularly of the argument from God's
essence to his existence. Eckhard is one of the Cartesian Scholastics to whom Leibniz
later refers as the first recipients ofhis criticisms of Descartes.
This letter is a careful reply to a very long one by Eckhard in May, 1677, and contains
the essence of the extensive comments which Leibniz made on that letter, several of which
are given here as notes.! Leibniz was as much concerned as Eckhard to find a sound basis
for the ontological argument, but his objections are a step in the clarification of his own
logical and metaphysical pluralism.
[G., I, 266-70]
As soon as I received your most learned and weighty, rather than lengthy, letter, I at
once consumed the whole. For there is nothing which I will read with more pleasure
than things written so elegantly and soundly about an argument of such importance. I
should have replied more fully had not the most reverend Abbot of Loccum given me
the hope that a formal demonstration would follow. I preferred to wait for this, but
since the demonstration has not yet arrived, I have decided to make this brief reply
meanwhile, so that you may understand that I have received your letter and have read
it studiously. 2
Several of my objections have ended since you have explained that in your usage,
perfection is being insofar as it is understood to differ from nonbeing, or, as I should
prefer to define it, perfection is degree or quantity of reality or essence, as intensity is
degree of quality, and force is degree of action. It is clear, also, that existence is a per-
fection or increases reality, that is: when A is thought of as existing, more reality is
thought of than when A is conceived as possible. 3 But it still seems to follow from this
that there is more perfection or reality in a mind which suffers than in an indifferent
one which is neither e~oying nor suffering, so that in a metaphysical sense, pain too
is a perfection. But since pleasure is also a metaphysical perfection, it seems that we
must ask whether pain or pleasure is the greater perfection, metaphysically speaking.
It seems that pleasure is the greater perfection, because it is the consciousness of power,
while pain is the consciousness of powerlessness. But powerlessness, again speaking
metaphysically, is an imperfection, and the consciousness of metaphysical imper-
fection is less perfect, again speaking metaphysically, than the consciousness of meta-
physical perfection. So pain implies a certain imperfection in the suffering subject.
But there remain certain scruples even here, which I pass over for now.
I hasten to the heart of the question, which is whether a most perfect being does not

imply a contradiction. You have undertaken to prove this because neither Descartes
nor any of the Cartesians have done it, though I have often urged them to do so. You
have chosen the best way to prove it, for if you show that the concept of the most
perfect is not composite, you will have concluded also that it does not imply a con-
tradictio~. Therefore you promise to set up a certain concept which is known to be the
most simple yet also to contain all of reality. The concept which you set up is this: a
most perfect being is either a being by itself [a se] or a necessary being, because it is
self-determined to everything of which it is capable. This concept, you say, does not
imply a contradiction (1) because it is distinct, for its individual parts are clear, (2) es-
pecially since everyone classifies being into that which is by itself and that which is
through something else, and there must therefore necessarily be some idea underlying
these two; otherwise men would speak like parrots. (3) Besides, we know what it
means to be through something else or to be determined to something by something
else; therefore we must also know what it means not to be determined by something
else. (4) Furthermore, we know by experience that the concept to be determined by itself
does not imply a contradiction, for we experience this every day in our own volitions.
(5) Also, pure actuality is simpler than an actuality mixed with potentiality. Therefore,
since the latter does not contain an implied contradiction, the former will much less
contain one. (6) Nothing more is even required for a most perfect being, you add,
than that it be a most perfect mind, that is, a mind to which belong all the perfections
which are found in any mind. For every substance is either mind or body; but a being
which determines itself is not a body, therefore it will be a mind. A most perfect mind,
that is, a mind which understands and wills most perfectly, most certainly does not
imply a contradiction. To understand most perfectly, or to understand all things, does
not imply a contradiction, because to understand implies none. Likewise, to under-
stand all things at any time in a single act does not imply a contradiction, because to
understand many things sometimes in a single act does not imply one. Nothing con-
flicts with understanding itself but non-understanding, perfect non-understanding. Also,
a mind endowed with the most perfect will, or a mind whose power reaches as far as
his will, does not imply a contradiction. For the contrary of power is not omnipotence
but impotence. Because therefore a being which determines itself to everything of
which it is capable is a most perfect mind, and hence most perfect in its willing, or
omnipotent, it follows that all other realities come from it. So you also prove the
second part of your assertion, namely, that the concept which you set up of a most
perfect being not only implies no contradiction but also produces every other perfec-
tion or contains it virtually. Having shown these points, (7) you also prove the existence
of a most perfect being by a different method, from the existence of certain contingent
beings; for example, from the existence of our minds or of the world. For such
beings must necessarily have received their existence from one whose nature is such
that all things come from it.
If I am not mistaken, these points, which you have expounded very clearly and
elegantly, contain a summary of your reasoning. I shall state frankly and sincerely
what I find still to be desired for a demonstration of absolute perfection. To (1)
I reply that for a distinct concept it is not enough that all its parts are clear, unless it is
also clear that they can be combined with each other. Thus whoever speaks of a
maximum velocity knows what velocity is and what a maximum is, yet he cannot
understand maximum velocity, for it is easy to demonstrate that this implies a contra-
diction. To (2): just as those who speak of a maximum velocity do not speak like
parrots, although they are speaking of something for which there is no possible
concept, so, it may be objected, do also those who speak of being by itself. To (3): it
does not follow that if the existence of one of two opposite terms is intelligible, the
other is also intelligible, for it is possible that the opposite term implies a contradiction.
This happens, for instance, if you classify men into rational and irrational, or bodies
into mobile and immobile. So too if you classify being into that which is through some-
thing else and that which is not through something else. For your opponents may say
that whatever is, is necessarily through something else. To (4): so far it is very doubtful
whether our will is determined by ourselves or not rather by the impressions of ob-
jects.4 To (5): this seems to be a sophism. By the same reasoning a maximum velocity
would be pure and therefore simpler in kind than a velocity combined with slowness;
yet the former velocity implies a contradiction, while a velocity combined with slow-
ness does not. If the matter is rightly considered, pure actuality involves many im-
portant things, namely, as many powers as there are things to which the being must
determine itself, and also the power to exclude and, so to speak, repel external powers.
Hence you see how slippery the argument is that only nonactuality is incompatible
with actuality and that therefore pure actuality is not, as if it were certain that all
acutalities and all potentialities are compatible with each other. The opponents believe
that such beings, in which we accumulate, as it were, all perfection and all actuality,
are chimerical. To (6): this assumes without proof that all substance is either mind or
body. But this is not certain, even though we may never have thought of any other
substance. For perhaps there can be others of which we can no more think than a
blind man thinks of colors. To prove that a mind which understands all things and
wills most perfectly or is omnipotent does not imply a contradiction, you make use of
the same paralogism which you use above, if I am not mistaken, namely, that non-
understanding is opposed to understanding, but that to understand everything at once
and always is not. By the same argument you may prove that an eye which would
see everything always and at once is possible. S It is the same when you say that the
opposite of power is impotence, not omnipotence. So much about your proof that the
concept of a being which determines itself does not imply a contradiction.
The proof by which you maintain that the being which determines itself also deter-
mines all other beings seems to be weaker, however, and less well formulated. For it
reduces to this: a being which determines itself to everything of which it is capable
cannot be a body. Therefore it is a mind, etc. (Here you assume what is not at all
demonstrated, namely, that every substance is either a body or a mind.) Furthermore,
since it is a mind, and not just any mind, it must be some particular mind; therefore
what other than the most perfect one? (That this mind is possible, you tried to prove
by the paralogism which I have mentioned.) But this does not follow, for it is possible
that the property of determining itself to everything of which it is capable may belong
to other minds in common with a perfect mind. For a being determining itself is not
by that fact alone the most perfect, since it is possible that there may be some other
being more perfect than it, which also determines itself to everything of which it is
capable. For a more perfect mind, capable of more things, would also determine
itself to more things. But, you say, the most perfect mind is omnipotent; it can do
everything or determine all other things. Therefore there cannot be more than one
self-determining mind. J reply that you have not proved that such a most perfect mind

is possible, and, besides it is enough for the perfection of a mind to know everything
and be able to do everything that it wills. But it does not follow therefrom that it should
be able to do everything, because it may not will everything, for it may not will what
it understands is not within its power; that is, it may not will to determine those things
which are already determined by themselves. 6 The reasoning in (7) assumes that such
a most perfect being, source of all being, is possible, and so it does not need a separate
reply.
These are the answers which can be given summarily in reply to your argument, so
that you may see the scruples which I have so far had about the whole thing almost
visually tabulated. As for the rest, you have made many fine comments on which I shall
not now touch. To many of the ideas which you have mixed in throughout, I cannot
give my assent; for instance, the Cartesian doctrine that eternal truths depend on the
will of God. In my opinion this is either error or a mere play of words. 7 You offer
many clear considerations on the nature of action, power, necessity, immutability,
eternity, will, thought, pleasure, and pain which must be praised, not refuted. But I
have made note of a few things here and there which will, I believe, be welcome to you,
and which I shall send you some other time so that you may have a richer material
on which to exercise the gifts of genius. In short, I believe that Descartes does not
prove the possibility of a most perfect being, which is the first desideratum in this
argument; indeed he does not even try. So I hold that what you have done here is not
Cartesian but your own. I do not see that you have done this, as you say, by the
Cartesian method. What, I pray, is this Cartesian method which some people boast
about so frequently? And what does he have of which the rest of us are ignorant or
which all good thinkers born before Descartes did not use? Were Archimedes and
Galileo Cartesians, perchance? I admit that Descartes founded a method in geometry,
though one not so very different from Vieta's, and far from perfect. For it cannot
touch innumerable problems which are both most important and most useful. It is
false that every problem can be reduced to an equation which can then be represented
by a curve of the kind admitted by Descartes. I esteem the genius and the discernment
of Descartes highly, but he tried to convince the world that the things which he achieved
by virtue of his outstanding ability were done solely through the use of a certain
unique method which he had established, so that men were drawn to the hope of
discovering an art by which mediocre minds could equal excellent one. In fact, it seems
to me that almost no Cartesian has produced anything which even remotely approaches
the discoveries of the master. The outstanding advances which have been made since
Descartes are not due to his method; by some ill chance, in fact, they seem to have
been made by almost anyone rather than Cartesians. Therefore, distinguished Sir,
I am unwilling to do you and other excellent philosophers the injury of regarding as
Cartesian any outstanding work which you produce. I observe that whenever men
become too devoted to one author, they usually block the paths of further progress
for themselves ....
REFERENCES
1 The following comment of this kind, on a point omitted in the present letter, is regarded by
Mahnke as the first explicit recognition by Leibniz of unconscious mental processes. "It is
assumed here that there is nothing actually in our minds of which we are not conscious; this I
seriously doubt" (G., 1,261, n. 92).
2 Reading studiose for sudiose (G., I, 266).

3 See above, p.169, note 2.
4 In his notes Leibniz had said "by impressed species", that is, "from without" (G., 1,261).
Note that Leibniz here still uses the language of interaction.
5 Note to Eckhard's letter: "Even if 'all things' is not inconsistent with 'to understand', it is
inconsistent with itself when combined with 'to understand'. Just so, 'to see' is not inconsis-
tent with eyes, nor is 'to see everything' inconsistent with 'to see'. Yet 'to see everything' is in-
consistent with eyes. So it must be demonstrated that it does not conflict with the nature of
mind to understand everything" (G., I, 250).
6 This already points, not only to a pluralism of self-determining beings, but to the distinction
between the two levels of being, that of possibilities determined by God's intellect and that of
existence determined by God's will.
7 Note to Eckhard's letter: "I know that it is the opinion of Descartes that the truth of things
depends on the divine will; this has always seemed absurd to me. For thus the necessity of the
divine existence, and therefore of the divine will, itself depends on the divine will. Thus it will
be a nature prior, yet posterior to itself. Besides, the principle of necessary truths is only this:
that the contrary implies a contradiction in terms .... Since then the incompossibility of con-
tradictories does not depend on the divine will, it follows that neither does truth depend on it.
Who would say that A is not non-A because God has decreed it?" (G., I, 253).
17
DIALOGUE
August, 1677
The dialogue form had interested Leibniz in Paris, where he had paraphrased Plato, and
he tried his hand at it frequently during the following years. Be. fittingly calls the present
one a "Dialogue on the Connection between Things and Words". Aimed explicitly at
Thomas Hobbes's position that truth is arbitrary, but also indirectly at Descartes's view
that truth rests upon God's arbitrary will, the dialogue probably grew out of the corre-
spondence with Eckhard. It develops the theory of characters, their use in reasoning, and
their bearing upon the nature of truth. The problem of error is lost sight of as the dialogue
progresses. As the use of the term 'express' suggests, the position reached here is
important in the development of the theory of representation.
[G., VII, 190--93]
A. If you were given a thread and told to bend it in such a way that it shall form a
closed line and shall include the greatest possible inclosed space, how would you
bend it?
B. In a circle, for the geometricians show that a circle is the most spacious of figures
of the same circumference. If there are two islands, one circular and the other square,
around which one can walk in the same time, the circular one contains more land.
A. Do you consider that this is true even if you were never to think of it?
B. Certainly, and even before the geometricians had proved it or men observed it.
A. So you think that truth and falsehood are in things, and not in thoughts.
B. By all means.
A. But can any thing be false?
B. I do not think that things are false, but thoughts or propositions about things.
A. Then falsehood is a property of thoughts and not of things. 1
B. I am forced to agree.
A. Why not truth also, then?
B. So it seems, but I am inclined to doubt whether this conclusion is valid.
A. When a question is proposed, do you not doubt whether or not some answer is
true or false until you are certain of your opinion?
B. Of course.
A. You admit, therefore, that it is the same subject which is capable of truth or
falsehood, until one or the other is established by the particular nature of the question.
B. I admit it and acknowledge that if falsehood is a property of thoughts, then
truth is also and not of things.
A. But this contradicts what you said before, that there is also truth which no one
has thought.
B. You have confused me.
A. Yet we must attempt to reconcile the two views. Do you think that all the
thoughts that can be made are actually formed? Or, to put it more clearly, do you think
that all propositions are thought?
B. I do not.
A. It seems then that truth is a quality of propositions or thoughts, but of possible
thoughts, so that what is certain is only that if anyone should think in this way or in
the opposite way, his thought would be true or false.
B. You seem to have succeeded in getting us over a slippery place.
A. But since there has to be a cause for the truth or falsity of any thought, I ask you
where we shall seek this cause?
B. In the nature of things, I think.
A. But what if it arises from your own nature?
B. Certainly not from my nature alone. For my own nature and the nature of the
things of which I think must be such that when I proceed by a valid method I shall
necessarily infer the proposition concerned or find it true. 2
A. Your reply is excellent, but there are still difficulties.
B. Of what kind, I beg of you?
A. Certain men of learning believe that truth arises from the human will and from
names or characters. 3
B. Such an opinion is certainly most paradoxical.
A. But they prove it in this way. Isn't definition the principle of demonstration?
B. I admit this, for certain propositions can be demonstrated solely by joining
definitions together.
A. Hence the truth of such propositions depends upon definitions.
B. Granted!
A. But definitions depend upon our will.
B. Howso?
A. Don't you see that it is within the choice of mathematicians to use the word
'ellipse' to signify a certain figure? And that it was within the choice of the Latins to
ascribe that meaning to the word 'circle' which its definition expresses?
B. What of it? Thoughts can occur without words.
A. But not without some other signs. Try, I pray, whether you can begin any
arithmetical calculation without numerical signs.·
B. You disturb me very much, for I did not think that characters or signs are so
necessary for ratiocination.
A. You grant then that arithmetical truths presuppose some signs or characters?
B. That can't be denied.
A. Therefore such truths depend on the human will?
B. You seem to be getting me tied up by a kind of sleight of hand.
A. These are not my ideas, but those of a very gifted writer.
B. But can anyone depart so far from a sound mind as to persuade himself that
truth is arbitrary and depends on names, though he knows that the geometry of the
Greeks, Latins, and Germans is the same?
A. You are right; yet the difficulty needs to be resolved.
B. There is just this one thing that makes me pause. I notice that no truth is ever
known, discovered, or proved by me except by the use of words and other signs pre-
sented to the mind.

A. In fact, if tltere were no characters, we could neither think of anything distinctly

nor reason about it.
B. Yet when we examine the figures of geometry, we sometimes establish truths
merely by contemplating them accurately.
A. True, but we must recognize that these figures must also be regarded as charac-
ters, for the circle described on paper is not a true circle and need not be; it is enough
that we take it for a circle.
B. Nevertheless, it has a certain similarity to the circle, and this is surely not arbi-
trary.
A. Granted; therefore, figures are the most useful of characters. But what similarity
do you think there is between ten and the character 10?
B. There is some relation or order in the characters which is also in things, especially
if the characters are well invented.
A. That may be, but what similarity do the first elements themselves have with
things; for example, 0 with nothing, or a with a line? You will have to admit, therefore,
that in these elements at least, there is no need of similarity to things. This is true, for
example, in the words lux andferens; even though their compound lucifer has a rela-
tion to these two words, light and bearing, which corresponds to that which the thing
signified by lucifer has to the things signified by lux andferens.
B. But the Greek rpwarpopO!; has the same relation to rpw~ and rpipw. 5
A. The Greeks might have used another word than this, however.
B. True. Yet I notice that, if characters can be used for ratiocination, there is in
them a kind of complex mutual relation [situs] or order which fits the things; if not in
the single words at least in their combination and inflection, although it is even better
if found in the single words themselves. Though it varies, this order somehow corre-
sponds in all languages. This fact gives me hope of escaping the difficulty. For although
characters are arbitrary, their use and connection have something which is not arbi-
trary, namely a definite analogy between characters and things, and the relations
which different characters expressing the same thing have to each other. This analogy
or relation is the basis of truth. For the result is that whether we apply one set of
characters or another, the products will be the same or equivalent or correspond
analogously. But perhaps certain characters are always necessary for thinking.
A. Excellent! You have extricated yourself clearly and fully. And the analytic or
arithmetical calculus confirms this view. For in numbers the problem always works out
in the same way whether you use the decimal system or as some mathematician did,
the duodecimal. Mterward, if you apply the solution you have reached by calculation
in several different ways, by arranging kernels or some other countable objects, the
answer always comes out the same. In analysis as well, even though different properties
of the subject are more easily apparent when different characters are used, the basis
of truth is always found in the connection and coordination of these characters. So
calling the square of a, a 2, and substituting b + C for a, we have b 2 + C 2 + 2bc as
the square. But if we substitute d - e for a, we will have d 2 + e 2 - 2de as the square.
In the former case we express the relation of the whole, a, to its parts band c; in the
latter the relation of the part, a, to the whole, d, and the excess, e, of the whole over
the part, a. Yet by substitution it becomes apparent that the calculation always leads
to the same result. For if we substitute in the formula d 2 + e 2_ 2de (which equals a 2 ),
its equivalent a +eford, we shall have a 2 + e 2 +2ae for d 2 , and- 2ae-2e 2 for- 2de.
So, adding these together,

+d 2 =a 2 +e 2 +2ae
+e 2 = e 2
-2de = -2e 2 -2ae
the sum produced is. . .. = a 2.
You see then that however arbitrarily the characters may be chosen, if you observe
a certain order and rule in their use, they always agree. Therefore though truths neces-
sarily presuppose some characters, and are indeed sometimes asserted about these
characters themselves (as in the theorem about casting off nines), yet they consist not
in the arbitrary element in their characters but in the permanent element in them,
namely, in their relation to things. It is always true, without any arbitrary choice of
ours, that if certain characters are adopted, some definite argument must proceed, and
if others are adopted whose relation to the things signified is known but different, the
resulting relation of the new characters will again correspond to the relation of the
first characters, as appears by a substitution or comparison.
REFERENCES
1 The discussion of truth and falsehood and their relation to thought and things in The Art of
Thinking (,The Port Royal Logic') by Arnauld and Nicole is similar to this, and Leibniz may
have been influenced by this source. See The Art of Thinking, Part II, chap. V, 'On the Falsity
To Be Found in Complex Terms and in Incident Propositions'.
2 Leibniz's position here implies his opinions expressed in the letter to Foucher (No. 11),
where he distinguished the purely formal logical necessity inherent in hypothetical truths when
their relations to an external order are neglected from their material and hypothetical truth
which depends upon the relation to a'suppositum'.
3 Thomas Hobbes, De corpore, Book I, chaps. III, VII-IX. Cf. the analogous position of
Descartes concerning the divine will, criticized on p. 181, note 7.
4 Note on the margin of the manuscript: "When God calculates and exercises his thought, the
world is made."
5 See p. 176, note 1.
18
LETTER TO HERMAN CONRING

March 19, 1678
Herman Conring (1606-81), professor at Helmstadt, was one of the outstanding scholars
and controversialists of his day, active in such diverse fields as medicine, jurisprudence (a
founder of the history of law), philosophy, history, and theology. His correspondence
with Leibniz had begun in 1670, when his friend Boineburg sent him a copy of the New
Method of Learning and Teaching Jurisprudence. At first (before Leibniz's Paris
sojourn) their letters were concerned primarily with the theory of law; even here Conring
was inclined to defend the old philosophy, especially Aristotle, against Leibniz's appre-
ciation of the new, so that this period of the correspondence ended with the impatient
protest and exhortation to the venerable Aristotelian, "Let us dismiss our prejudices and
honor the geniuses of all ages" (G., I, 175). Conring was engaged in theological contro-
versy with the Capuchins at the court of Hanover when Leibniz came there in 1676 and
soon resumed the correspondence. The present letter returns to the problem of the validity
of Aristotle and the Scholastics and the usefulness of substantial forms for a mechanistic
philosophy of nature. But it is most important for Leibniz's theory of method, particu-
larly in the verification oftruths offact and the use ofhypotheses.
[G., I, 193-99]
... I do not think that the function of respiration and the way in which it is necessary
for life have as yet been explained satisfactorily. No one who has carefully observed
the anatomy of living animals will say that respiration is the cause of the motion of the
heart. Even if the heart really beats because of heat, as experience confirms, it is not
yet clear where heat comes from in an animal, how it is conserved, and how it acts. To
derive heat from the motion of the blood and thus from the motion of the heart again
would be to commit a vicious circle. It seems therefore that the phenomenon must be
reduced to some kind of fermentation, or to a reaction and conflict, which, some
authors think, arises from the mixture of old blood and new chyle. I should have liked
your opinion about this rather than about the question of whether the motion of the
heart comes from respiration, which I had not raised. But it remains to ask whether the
air in the lungs supplies something to the blood, or whether it merely supports the
temperature, somewhat in the way in which chemical furnaces need some ventilation.
I come to your criticisms regarding analysis and demonstration. You think that I
have added some very paradoxical novelties to this matter, and you sometimes doubt
whether I am writing seriously. But I have in fact said only things that I have concluded
about this matter from many years of experience and from instances of the reasoning
of myself and others as well; things, moreover, that are consistent with what men do
every day, even though they are not always aware that they are doing it. What I
have proposed is effective, too, in discovery and judgment and not, like the methods
and precepts of certain other men, barren and remote from applications and facts.
Demonstration is reasoning by which some proposition is made certain. This is
achieved whenever it is shown that the proposition necessarily follows from certain
suppositions (which are assumed to be certain). By necessarily I mean in such a way
that its contrary implies a contradiction; this is the true and unique mark of impossi-
bility. Just as necessity corresponds to impossibility, furthermore, so an identity
corresponds to a proposition which implies a contradiction. For the primary impossi-
bility in propositions is this: A is not A; just so the primary necessity in propositions is
this: A is A. Hence only identities are indemonstrable, but all axioms are demonstrable,
even though they are mostly so clear and easy that they do not need demonstration;
nevertheless, they are demonstrable in the sense that if their terms are understood (i.e.,
by substituting the definitions for the terms defined), it becomes clear that they are ne-
cessary or that their contrary implies a contradiction in terms. This is also the opinion
of the Scholastics. But we know that identical propositions are necessary propositions
without any understanding or analysis of their terms, for I know that A is A, whatever
may be understood by A. All propositions, however, whose truth must be shown by
further analyzing and understanding their terms are demonstrable by such analysis,
that is, by definitions. So it is clear that demonstration is a chain of definitions. For in
the demonstration of any proposition, nothing is used but definitions, axioms (with
which I here include postulates), theorems which have been demonstrated previously,
and observations. Since the theorems again must themselves be demonstrated, and
axioms, except for identities, can also all be demonstrated, it follows that all truths can
be resolved into definitions, identical propositions, and observations - though purely
intelligible truths do not need observations. Mter the analysis has been completed, it
will become manifest that the chain of demonstration begins with identical propositions
or observations and ends in a conclusion but that the beginning is connected with the
conclusion through intervening definitions. In this sense I said that a demonstration
is a chain of definitions.
The definition of a compound idea, moreover, is an analysis of it into its parts,just as
a demonstration is nothing but the analysis of a truth into other truths which are
already known. And the solution of any problem which is to be worked out is the
reduction of the problem to others which are easier or already known to be within
one's power. This is my analysis, which has been tested in mathematics and in other
sciences and will succeed. If anyone has another, I shall be surprised if it does not re-
duce finally to this one, or prove to be a part or corollary ofit.
Synthesis, on the other hand, is the process in which we begin from principles and
compound theorems and problems, whichever the natural order of thought presents
to us, while analysis is the process in which we begin with a given conclusion or proposed
problem and seek the principles by which we may demonstrate the conclusion or
solve the problem. 1 Thus synthesis does not help to solve questions which tum up
accidentally (except when tables of truths can be established); yet it is useful in dic-
covering many excellent things which we may set aside for later use when some
question happens to arise. For it is certain that a man who knows many of the theo-
rems in Euclid, Archimedes, Apollonius, and others will perform the analysis more
briefly than one who knows only a few fundamental propositions, even though the
latter can always achieve his aim as well as the former, if he uses a sure method and is
industrious enough. I have made many fine discoveries about these matters and could

illustrate them with excellent examples if I had enough time. When we arrive eventually
at already known truths by starting from an assumption of whose truth we are un-
certain, we cannot conclude from this that the assumption is true, as you rightly warn,
unless we make use in our reasoning of pure equations or propositions that are
convertible or whose subject and predicate are equally inclusive. We must take care,
that is, not merely that the predicate is as inclusive as the subject in each proposition,
and the converse (which is true in reciprocal propositions), but also that subject and
predicate in one proposition are as inclusive as the subject and predicate in all the
other propositions occurring in the same proof. 2 But though my comment may seem
new to you, the practice of the ancients shows that they were not ignorant of this
principle, for they guarded against errors adequately, even though they did not record
their rules of analysis distinctly enough - not to mention the fact that their analytic
writings have been lost. Equations of this kind have a place, moreover, not merely in
mathematics but in all other reasoning that is, wherever, definitions occur. But those
who deduce known phenomena from some physical hypothesis which has been taken
for granted without demonstration cannot by this process demonstrate that their
hypothesis is true, unless they have observed the condition which we have just set
down. This they have not done, nor perhaps, have they wanted or been able to do it.
Yet it must be admitted that a hypothesis becomes the more probable as it is simpler
to understand and wider in force and power, that is, the greater the number of phenom-
ena that can be explained by it, and the fewer the further assumptions. It may even
tum out that a certain hypothesis can be accepted as physically certain [pro physice
certa] if, namely, it completely satisfies all the phenomena which occur, as does the
key to a cryptograph. Those hypotheses deserve the highest praise (next to truth),
however, by whose aid predictions can be made, even about phenomena or obser-
vations which have not been tested before; for a hypothesis of this kind can be applied,
in practice, in place of truth. But the Cartesian hypothesis is still far from deserving
this praise; I have often raised this objection with the chief Cartesians of France and
Belgium - that until now nothing new has ever been discovered by the use of Descartes's
principles, whether in nature or in the mechanical arts. What is more, none of the
discoverers of important things was a Cartesian.
By Cartesian principles, however, I do not mean those which are common to Des-
cartes and Democritus 3, but only his physical hypothesis and elements. You need not
wonder that Descartes should have found so many disciples all at once. For except
for GaIileo, you will find no one in our century who can be compared with him,
whether in genius for discovering the causes of things, in judgment in explaining the
senses of the mind lucidly, or in ready eloquence in capturing the minds of more
discerning men. To these things was added the fame of his profound mathematical
knowledge; and though we know today that it has not been as great as the crowd
of Cartesians now believe, yet it was greater than that of any other man of his time,
for Vieta and GaIileo had died when Descartes was flourishing. Besides, there were
many people at that time who were disgusted with the Scholastic program of studies
and sought to be freed from it, for Bacon and others had already prepared them for
freedom. For the rest, neither Galileo, Descartes, nor Gassendi was ignorant of
Aristotle's doctrines. Gassendi had certainly read the ancients more carefuIly than did
many Aristotelians. It seems to me that no one is more ignorant of Aristotle's teachings
than the so-called Aristotelians. I have always admired Aristotle's Organon, Rhetoric,
and Politics. I understand that his zoOlogy is esteemed by the experts and think that
there are many things which we ought not to spurn in his eight books on physics, as
well as in his books on the soul and on metaphysics. But I cannot value his works on
the heavens and on generation and corruption highly, and I do not believe that you
disagree. That the whole new philosophy is soon to be rejected by a learned posterity,
as you say, is very unlikely if the world continues to advance as it has begun, unless you
think, perhaps, that men will tum back again from the full fruits of discovery to their
little acorns, and from things to words. This we need not fear unless a new barbarism
should break out which would bring darkness into human affairs.
Who would deny substantial forms, that is, essential differences between bodies?
You say that I have somewhere wrongly ascribed to you the view that forms originate
out of nothing. 4 I do not remember where I did this; nor do I know why you should
consider as most absurd the view that everything happens mechanically in nature, that
is, according to certain mathematical laws prescribed by God. I recognize nothing
in the world but bodies and minds, and nothing in minds but intellect and will, nor
anything in bodies insofar as they are separated from mind but magnitude, figure,
situation, and changes in these, either partial or total. Everything else is merely said,
not understood; it is sounds without meaning. Nor can anything in the world be un-
derstood clearly unless it is reduced to these. Suppose that some angel wishes to
explain the nature of color to me distinctly. He will accomplish nothing by chattering
about forms and faculties. But if he shows that a certain rectilinear pressure is ex-
erted at every sensible point and is propagated in a circuit through certain regular
permeable or diaphanous bodies, and then teaches me exactly the cause and the
mode of this pressure, and deduces the laws of reflection and refraction from it, thus
explaining everything in such a way that it is clear that it could not even happen
otherwise, then at last he will have increased my knowledge, since he has treated
physics mathematically. Who has ever said that all the affections of natural things are
quantities? Motion is not a quantity, nor is figure, though both are subjects of quan-
tity, for figure and motion can be measured. You challenge me to reduce any genuinely
sensible quality to common quantities. What else do mathematicians do when dealing
with sight and hearing, where they reduce everything, as far as possible, to mechanical
laws? There is still some doubt about odor and taste. Furthermore, what is more
probable than that all sensible qualities are merely tactual qualities varying according
to the variety of sense organs? But touch recognizes only magnitude, motion, situation,
or figure and various degrees of resistance in bodies. It is always true in every science,
certainly, that special qualities are nothing but common qualities, variously com-
plicated. If these considerations do not convince you, I should like you to think of this
one thing: that unless physical things can be explained by mechanical laws, God can-
not, even if he chooses, reveal and explain nature to us. For what would he say, I ask
you, about vision and light? That light is the action of a potentially transparent body?
Nothing is truer, even though it is almost too true. But would this make us any wiser?
Could we use this to explain why the angle of reflection of light is equal to the angle of
incidence, or why a ray should be bent more toward the perpendicular in a denser trans-
parent body, though it would seem that the opposite should happen? There are other
phenomena of this kind, and if we understood their causes, I believe we should under-
stand the nature oflight. But how can we hope to explain the causes of such things except
by mechanical laws, that is, by concrete mathematics or geometry applied to motion?

I do not think that we disagree on the demonstration of special matters. You say
that my estimate of the Schoolmen's metaphysics would be more favorable if I had
read them. Yet I esteemed them most favorably, for I had written you, if I remember
well, that I believe many excellent metaphysical demonstrations are to be found in
them which deserve to be purged of their barbarisms and confusion. I could not have
said this if I had not wanted you to believe that I have read them. And I did in fact
read them, more immoderately and eagerly than my teachers approved, when I be-
gan to study philosophy at the universities. They feared, indeed, that I should cling
too tightly to these rocks. You would have found me, then, making some original and
profound comments (for so they seemed to others as well) on the principle of indivi-
duation, the composition ofthe continuum, and the concourse of God. And I have never
since regretted having sampled these studies.
I am unwilling to agree with you that Descartes only pretended to defend the exis-
tence of God and the immortality of the soul, and I do not see your grounds for
inferring this. His arguments are not sophistical but imperfect; that is, he assumes some
things which he has not demonstrated but which are nonetheless demonstrable, though
they could not easily be demonstrated by his principles. It is certain, however, that
most of his metaphysics is already found, partly in Plato and Aristotle and partly in the
Scholastics. So far I have been convinced that my friend in Rinteln 5 holds the best
doctrine about God and the soul, and I have no ground for changing my opinion. So I do
not want you to become fixed in the opinion which you seem to have gathered from
false stories which others have told about a good and scholarly man. Whether there is
some incorporeal substance in beasts which is called a sentient soul is something to be
investigated by experiments, for it is a question of fact. Yet if I am not mistaken, God
could certainly have created a kind of machine similar to an animal which carries out,
without sensibility, all the functions, or at least most of them, which we see in beasts.
Conversely, we cannot assert with certainty that there is a sentient soul in beasts unless
we observe phenomena which cannot be explained mechanically. If I were shown an
ape who plays the game of highwayman or chess skilfully and successfully, even with
men as opponents, I should certainly be forced to admit that there is something in him
greater than a machine. But from that time on I should become a Pythagorean and
like Porphyry, condemn the eating of animals and the tyranny which men exercise
against them. I should also provide for a place for their souls after death, for no
incorporeal substance can be destroyed.
But enough of these matters for now. I have gone into greater detail about them,
both to clear myself of a suspicion of being thoughtlessly inclined to adopt absurd
beliefs merely because their novelty pleases me, and also to see whether a man of such
great genius and discernment as yourself can voice any objection to my findings. I am
concerned, as are all who wish to hold a middle ground, not to seem too much inclined
toward either of the two opposed adversaries. Whenever I discuss matters with the
Cartesians, certainly, I extol Aristotle where he deserves it and undertake a defense of
the ancient philosophy, because I see that many Cartesians read their one master only,
ignoring what is held in high esteem by others, and thus unwisely impose limits on their
own ability. I do not at all approve of throwing words around too freely against the
old philosophy, nor do I approve of the argument which a certain friend in this neigh-
borhood has divulged; I have told him so in a letter, I think that the two philosophies
should be combined and that where the old leaves off, the new should begin.
Perhaps my tetragonism will some day be published in France, where I have aban-
doned my demonstrations. 6 It is not such as mathematicians usually desire, but such
as they ought to desire, for since it is impossible to express the ratio between a circle
and a square in one number, a series of numbers continued to infinity is required. I do
not think a series can be given that would be simpler than mine.
I greatly regret that your work on the boundaries of the German Empire has met
with a delay, for I know that you can say some excellent things on this. 7 I hope that
soon, after you have completed these and other matters which you have in hand, you
may be able to write down some things in medicine and publish your praiseworthy
findings in this field, which is so difficult and yet so important. Above all, I wish that a
correct doctrine of the use of parts could be set up, and a pathology treating the
causes and symptoms of diseases and based on observation constructed upon it.
I know no one who can do this more accurately than you. But that you may be able to
achieve these and other outstanding services, I wish you, from the bottom of my heart,
sound health, prolonged for a very long time.
REFERENCES
1 It must be noted that analysis and synthesis cannot be correlated with deduction and in-
duction, or the converse. Leibniz thinks of all ratiocination as deductive, the role of analysis or
synthesis depending upon whether the simpler and more abstract, or the compound and more
concrete concepts are known (cf. Introduction, Sec. IV).
2 In Leibniz's final copy this sentence was changed as follows: "We must take care, that is,
not merely that the predicate is in the subject but also that subjects and predicates, not only
in the same proposition but in all the propositions occurring in the same proof, are equally
extended." The use of the principle that the predicate is in the subject begins in this period, but
it is here clear that this principle is subordinate to the principle of identity. Though Leibniz,
here regarding an algebraic solution as a special case of logical demonstration, already con-
ceives of the equivalence of subject and predicate in a proposition, this is always in an essential
and intensional sense rather than an extensional interpretation.
3 That is, mechanistic interpretations of nature in general, which Leibniz sometimes identifies
as the corpuscular philosophy (see p. 349, note 14).
4 SeeNo.3andp.l03,notel0.
5 Arnold Eckhard (see No. 16).
6 Leibniz did not, in fact, publish his findings on the quadrature of the circle until 1682, and
then in the Leipzig Acta eruditorum; in the same journal he first published his findings on the
differential calculus in 1684.
7 Conring's important study of the Empire, De /inibus imperii Germanici Libri II (1654),
appeared in a new edition in 1693.
19
LETTER TO WALTER VON TSCHIRNHAUS

May, 1678
(Selection)
After their winter of collaboration in Paris, Leibniz and Tschirnhaus continued to discuss
mathematicalandphilosophicalproblemsby letter.! On April 30, 1678, the latter wrote
a long letter from Rome, in which the solution of higher equations was discussed, along
with other mathematical questions. In the course of the letter it was proposed that algebra
is the universal science of symbols, of which the art of combinations is but one part. Leib-
niz's reply contained a criticism of Tschirnhaus' proposed solution of algebraic equations,
an exposition of some of the fundamental principles of the calculus, and a clear statement
of the scope of his proposed characteristic science and the relation of algebra to it.
Only the philosophical section of the letter is here reproduced. 2
[GM., IV, 451-63]
... As I run through the rest of your letter, I notice incidentally that you write:
Many people quite falsely believe that the art of combinations is a separate science, to be
mastered before algebra and other sciences. Indeed, some people believe that there is more in
the art of combinations than in the art commonly called algebra; in other words, that the
daughter knows more than her mother. But it is certainly obvious, from the composition of
powers alone if by nothing else, that the art of combinations is mastered through algebra.
These are your words which are undoubtedly aimed at me, for the 'many' who, as you
say, think in this way are few, I believe, besides myself. However, I believe that your
opinion is right because you do not seem to have understood me. For if you hold the art
of combinations to be the science of finding the number of variations, I freely admit
that it is subordinate to the science of numbers and consequently to algebra, since the
science of numbers is also subordinate to algebra. For certainly you do not find these
numbers except by adding, multiplying, etc., and the art of multiplying is derived from
the general science of quantity, which some call algebra. But for me the art of combina-
tions is in fact something far different, namely, the science offorms or of similarity and
dissimilarity, while algebra is the science of magnitude or of equality and inequality.
The combinatory art seems little different, indeed, from the general science of charac-
teristics, by the use of which fitting characters have been or can be devised for algebra,
for music, and even for logic itself. 3
Cryptography is also a part of this science, although the difficulty here lies not so
much in compounding as in analyzing what has been compounded, or in investigating
its roots, so to speak. What a root is in algebra a key is in cryptographic divination.
Taken by itself algebra has only rules of equality and proportion but, when the prob-
lems are more difficult and the roots of equations very involved, algebra is forced to
draw something again from the higher science of similitude and dissimilitude or from
the science of combinations. 4 For a device to compare similar equations or equations
of the same form was already known to Cardan and others and very distinctly described
by Vieta; it has properly been taken from the art of combinations. But this art can be
and ought to be used not only when our concern is with formulas which express
magnitudes, and with the solution of equations, but also when the involved key is to
be developed for other formulas which have nothing in common with magnitude. The
art of finding progressions and of establishing tables of formulas is also purely combi-
natorial, for these have a place not only in formulas expressing magnitude but in all
others as well. For formulas can also be derived from them which express situation
[situs] and the construction of lines and angles without considering magnitude. More
elegant constructions can be discovered by this method, and more easily, than through
the computing of magnitudes. With the help of combinatorial theorems (that is, involv-
ing similarity and dissimilarity) it can be proved far more naturally than Euclid has done
that the sides of triangles having equal angles are proportional. 5 Meanwhile I admit
that no more beautiful example of the art of combinations can be found anywhere than
in algebra and that therefore he who masters algebra will the more easily establish the
general art of combinations, because it is always easier to arrive at a general science a
posteriori from particular instances than a priori. But there can be no doubt that the
general art of combinations or characteristics contains much greater things than
algebra has given, for by its use all our thoughts can be pictured and as it were, fixed,
abridged, and ordered; pictured to others in teaching them,fixed for ourselves in order
to remember them; abridged so that they may be reduced to a few; ordered so that all
of them can be present in our thinking. And though I know you are prejudiced, by
reasons which I do not know, to look rather adversely upon these meditations of mine,
I believe that when you examine the matter more seriously, you will agree that this
general characteristic will be of unbelievable value, since a spoken and written lan-
guage can also be developed with its aid which can be learned in a few days and will
be adequate to express everything that occurs in everyday practice, and of astonishing
value in criticism and discovery, after the model of the numeral characters. We cer-
tainly calculate much more easily with the characters of arithmetic than the Romans
did either with pens or in their heads, and this is undoubtedly because the Arabic
characters are more convenient, that is, because they better express the genesis of
numbers.
No one should fear that the contemplation of characters will lead us away from the
things themselves; on the contrary, it leads us into the interior of things. For we often
have confused notions today because the characters we use are badly arranged; but
then, with the aid of characters, we will easily have the most distinct notions, for we
will have at hand a mechanical thread of meditation, as it were, with whose aid we can
very easily resolve any idea whatever into those of which it is composed. In fact, if the
character expressing any concept is considered attentively, the simpler concepts into
which it is resolvable will at once come to mind. Since the analysis of concepts thus
corresponds exactly to the analysis of a character, we need merely to see the characters
in order to have adequate notions brought to our mind freely and without effort. We
can hope for no greater aid than this in the perfection of the mind. I wanted to
write this to you a little more fully, my friend, to find out whether reasons do not carry

more weight with you than prejudiced opinions. If you reply that the matter is clear but
difficult, this is all I ask of you, for the difficulties do not frighten me, since I see certain,
and unless I am mistaken, very appropriate means for overcoming them.
You will have learned that the posthumous works of Spinoza have appeared. There
is among them a fragment On the Improvement of the Intellect, but he stopped just
where I most expected something. He does not always sufficiently explain his opinions
in the Ethics, but I need not pursue this. Sometimes he commits paralogisms, the cause
being that he departs from rigorous demonstrations. 6 I certainly believe that it is
useful to depart from rigorous demonstration in geometry because errors are easily
avoided there, but in metaphysical and ethical matters I think we should follow the
greatest rigor, since error is very easy here. Yet if we had an established characteristic
we might reason as safely in metaphysics as in mathematics.
You say that it is difficult to set up definitions of things; perhaps you mean in the
most simple and the primitive concepts, so to speak. These, I admit, it is difficult to
give. We must realize, indeed, that there are several definitions of the same thing,
that is, reciprocal properties which distinguish one thing from all other things and that
from each one we can derive all the other properties of the thing defined. You are not
unaware of this, but some of these definitions are more perfect than others, that is,
they come nearer to the primary and adequate notions. Indeed, I hold this to be a
certain criterion of a perfect and adequate definition: that when the definition is once
grasped. we cannot further doubt whether the thing defined in it is possible or not.
Besides, anyone who wishes to construct a characteristic or universal analytic can
use any definitions whatever in the beginning, since all will eventually lead to the same
result when the analysis is continued. You are entirely of my opinion when you say
that in very composite matters a calculus is necessary. For this is the same as if you had
said that characters are necessary, for a calculus is nothing but operation through
characters, and this has its place not only in matters of quantity but in all other
reasoning as well. Meanwhile I have a very high regard for such problems as can be
solved by mental powers alone insofar as this is possible, without a prolonged calcu-
lation, that is, without paper and pen. For such problems depend as little as possible
on external circumstances, being within the power even of a captive who is denied a
pen and whose hands are tied. Therefore we ought to practice both in calculating and
in meditating, and when we have reached certain results by calculation, we ought to
try afterward to demonstrate them by meditation alone, which has in my experience
often been successful.
But since we think the same about many things, I have no doubt that if we differ it is
with reason. I do not want this to cause dissension between us, nor dissension to
diminish our friendship. I hope therefore that you will not be displeased with my
frankness in expressing my opinion about your extraction of the roots of equations,
for I think you have missed the mark and want to indicate this to you to save you labor.
I in tum await your opinion about my own views, for I have great confidence indeed in
you and have no doubt of profiting. I have learned many things from you, and I can
learn even now. You are capable of great discoveries and can do the things which have
already been presented by others, even by me, if you give your mind to them. But, in
the public interest, I should prefer to have you apply your mind to untouched problems
which are not yet in our power. I hope also that several prejudices which you seem to
hold against some of my opinions will more and more disappear....
REFERENCES
1 On Tschimhaus see the letter to Oldenburg (No. 13) and p.166 note 1.
2 Leibniz later wrote at the head of this letter, "To Mr. Tschimhaus at Rome, end of May,
1678. Tschirnhaus received the letter, for he answered it and repeated my words in his reply.
In it I already explained to Tschirnhaus my general method for investigating quadratures;
also the mark of a real definition, which is possibility. He later attributed both to himself." It
was Tschirnhaus' publication of some of these results that caused Leibniz to publish his
methods in the differential calculus in 1684.
3 The logical calculus (Nos. 26 and 41) is thus only an application of the universal characte-
ristic, other phases being algebra, cryptography, the geometry of situation, the universal
language, etc.
4 Both correspondents had been trying to find the roots of higher algebraic equations by
applying their combinations to the coefficients of the terms of the equation.
5 See No. 27 and the criticism of Euclid contained in it.
6 In June, 1682, Leibniz said that Tschirnhaus was now freed "from some prejudices drawn
from Descartes and Spinoza, against which I once preached on various occasions, since I have
always held that neither thought nor extension are primitive or perfectly understood terms"
(PA., II, i, 528). But Tschirnhaus' Medicina mentis (1687), in which he proposes a mathematical
logic as the medicine of the mind, was influenced by Spinoza's De emendatione intellectus as
well as by Leibniz.
A more positive judgment on Spinoza is found in Leibniz's letter to Henry Justel, earlier in
the same year (February 4/14,1678 [PA., II, i, 393]): "The posthumous works ofthe late Mr.
Spinoza have at last been published. The most important part is the Ethics, composed of five
treatises: on God, on mind, on human servitude to affections or on the force of the affections,
and on human freedom or the power of the understanding. I have found there a number of
excellent thoughts which agree with my own, as some of my friends know who have also
learned from Spinoza. But there are also paradoxes which I do not find true or even plausible.
As for example, that there is only one substance, namely God; that creatures are modes or
accidents of God; that our mind perceives nothing further after this life; that God himself does
indeed think but neither understands nor wills; that all things happen by a kind of fatal
necessity; that God does not act for the sake of ends but only from a certain necessity of
nature. This is to retain in word but to deny in fact, providence and immortality.
I consider this book dangerous for those who wish to take the pains to master it. For the
rest will not make the effort to understand it."
20
ON THE ETHICS OF BENEDICT DE SPINOZA

1678
As the letters to Tschirnhaus and Justel show (No. 19 and p. 195, note 6), Leibniz
received a copy of Spinoza's Opera posthumafrom G. H. Schuller, the literary executor,
immediately after their publication, and assumed a critical attitude toward both the
Ethics and the essay On the Improvement of the Understanding from the start. His
reading notes on Book Iof the Ethics are particularly detailed and show how his concern
to establish a sound logical basis for his own pluralistic view of substance impelled him to
search out and criticize the logical gaps and implicit assumptions in Spinoza's arguments.
[G., I, 139-50]
PART I. ON GOD
Definition 1. Cause of itself is that whose essence involves existence.

Definition 2. To say that a thing is finite if it can be limited by another thing of the
same nature involves obscurity. For what does it mean to say that a thought is limited
by another thought? Does this mean that the other one is greater, in the sense that he
says that a body is limited because another can be conceived which is greater than it?
See Proposition 8, below.
Definition 3. Substance is that which is in itself and is conceived through itself. This
definition too is obscure. For what does 'to be in itself' mean? Then we must ask: Does
he relate 'to be in itself' and 'to be conceived through itself' cumulatively or disjunc-
tively? That is, does he mean that substance is what is in itself and also that substance
is what is conceived through itself? Or does he mean that substance is that in which
both occur together, that is, that substance is both in itself and conceived through
itself? But then it would be necessary for him to prove that whatever has one property
also has the other, while the contrary seems rather to be true, that there are some
things which are in themselves though they are not conceived through themselves. 1
And this is how men commonly conceive of substances. He continues: substance is
that whose concept does not need the concept of any other thing upon which it must
rest. But there is also a difficulty in this, for he says in the next definition that an
attribute is perceived by the understanding as belonging to substance and as con-
stituting its essence. Therefore the concept of the attribute is necessary to form the
concept of the substance. If you reply that an attribute is not a thing and that you
merely mean that a substance does not need the concept of any other thing, I answer
that it is then necessary to explain what 'thing' means, in order to understand the
definition and see why an attribute is not a thing.
Definition 4. It is also obscure to say that an attribute is that which the under-
standing perceives about substance as constituting its essence. For the question arises
whether he understands by attribute every reciprocal predicate, or every essential
predicate whether reciprocal or not, or finally, every primary essential or indemonstra-

ble predicate of substance. 2 See Definition 5.
Definition 5. A mode is that which is in something else and is conceived through
something else. It seems therefore to differ from an attribute in this - that an attribute
is indeed in a substance but is conceived through itself. And with the added explana-
tion here the obscurity of Definition 4 disappears.
Definition 6. He says: I define God as the absolutely infinite being, or as the sub-
stance which consists of infinite attributes, each of which expresses an eternal and
infinite essence. He ought to show that these two definitions are equipollent 3 ; other-
wise the one cannot be substituted for the other. They will be equipollent if it is shown
that there is a plurality of attributes or predicates in the nature of things which are
conceived through themselves; but also that the several predicates are compatible
with each other. Besides, every definition is imperfect, however true and clear it may
be, which permits some doubt, even when it is understood, about whether the thing
defined is possible. Now this is such a definition, for it still can be doubted whether a
being having infinite attributes does not imply a contradiction. Furthermore, it can be
doubted whether the same simple essence can be expressed through many different
attributes. There are in fact many definitions of composite things, but only one of a
simple thing, and its essence can be expressed, it seems, only in one way.4
Definition 7. A being is free which exists and is determined to action by the neces-
sity of its own nature; a being is coerced whose existence and action are determined by
another.
Definition 8. By eternity I mean existence itself insofar as it is conceived to follow
from the essence of a thing. I approve of both of these definitions.
As for the axioms, I make the following comments. The first is obscure as long as
what it means 'to be in itself' is not stated. No comment is necessary on the second and
the seventh. The sixth hardly seems consistent, for every idea agrees with that of which
it is the idea, and I do not see what a false idea can be. I believe that the third, fourth,
and fifth axioms can be proved.
Proposition 1. Substance is by nature prior to its affections, that is, to its modes,
for he has said in Definition 5 that by the affections of a substance he means the modes.
But he has not explained what the term 'prior by nature' means, and so this proposition
cannot be demonstrated from what precedes it. But it seems that by 'something prior
to another thing by nature' he means that through which the other thing is conceived.
Yet I confess that I find some difficulty in this too, for it seems that what is posterior
cannot only be conceived through what is prior, but also the prior through the poste-
rior. 'To be prior by nature' can be defined in this way, however: as that which can
be conceived without the other being conceived, while the other thing cannot, on the
contrary, be conceived without the concept of the former. But to tell the truth, to be
prior by nature is a little more general even than this. For example, the property of
the number 10 to be 6 + 4 is posterior to that of being 6 + 3 + 1, because this latter prop-
erty is closer to the first property of all; ten is 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1.
Still it can be conceived without the second property, and what is more, it can be
proved without it. I add another example. In a triangle the property that the three inter-
nal angles equal two right angles is posterior in nature to the property that two inter-
nal angles are equal to the exterior angle of the third. Yet the former can be understood
without the latter and, indeed, can be demonstrated without it, though not as easily.

Proposition 2. Two substances with different attributes have nothing in common.

If by attributes he means predicates which are conceived through themselves, I grant
the proposition, assuming that there are two substances A and B and that c is the
attribute of substance A and d the attribute of substance B, or that c and e are all the
attributes of substance A, and d and/all the attributes of substance B. But the case is
different if these two substances have some attributes different and some in common,
as when c and d are the attributes of A, and d and/the attributes of B. Ifhe denies that
this is possible, he must demonstrate its impossibility. Perhaps he would demonstrate
the proposition against this objection, as follows. Since d and c alike express the
same essence (being attributes of the same substance A, by hypothesis), and d and /
also express the same essence, for the same reason (being by hypothesis attributes of
the same substance B), c and/must also. Hence it follows that A and B are the same
substance, which is contrary to hypothesis, and it is therefore absurd that two distinct
substances can have anything in common. I reply that I do not concede that there can
be two attributes which are conceived through themselves and yet can express the
same substance. For whenever this happens, these two attributes expressing the same
thing in different ways can be further analyzed, or at least one of them. S This I can
easily prove.
Proposition 3. If two things have nothing in common, one cannot be the cause of
the other, by Axioms 5 and 4.
Proposition 4. Two or more distinct things are distinguished either by the diversity
of the attributes of their substances or by the diversity of affections. He proves this as
follows. Everything that is, is either in itself or in something else, by Axiom 1; that
is, outside of the understanding there is nothing besides substances and their affections,
by Definitions 3 and 5. Here I am surprised at his forgetting attributes, for in Definition
5 he understands merely modes by the affections of substances. It follows either that
he speaks ambiguously or that he does not include attributes among the things that
exist outside the understanding, but merely substances and modes. 6 For the rest, he
could have shown the proposition more easily by adding that things which can be
conceived through their attributes or affections are necessarily known and therefore
also distinguished from each other.
Proposition 5. In the nature of things there cannot be two or more substances with
the same nature or attribute.
Here I point out that what is meant by 'in the nature of things' seems obscure.
Does he mean in the whole of existing things or in the region of ideas or of possible
essences? Then it is not clear whether he meant to say that there are not many essences
with the same common attribute or that there are not many individuals with the same
essence. I also wonder why he here takes the word 'nature' and the word 'attribute' as
equivalent,. unless he means by attribute that which contains the whole nature. If this
is assumed, I do not see how there can be many attributes of the same substance which
are conceived through themselves.
His proof of the proposition is as follows. If the substances were distinct, they would
be distinguished either by affections or by attributes; if by affections, then since a
substance is by nature prior to its affections, by Proposition 1, they must also be distin-
guished apart from their affections, and therefore they are distinguished by their
attributes. If by their attributes, then there are no two substances with the same
attribute. I reply that there seems to be a concealed fallacy here. For two substances
can be distinguished by their attributes and still have some common attribute, provided
they also have others peculiar to themselves in addition. For example, A may have the
attributes c and d, and B the attributes d and e. I note further that Proposition 1 is
useless except for proving this proposition. It might have been omitted, for it is
enough that substance can be conceived without its affections, whether it be prior to
them by nature or not.
Proposition 6. One substance cannot be produced by another substance. For by
Proposition S, two substances do not have the same attribute; therefore they can have
nothing in common, by Proposition 2, and therefore the one cannot be the cause of the
other, by Axiom S. To prove the same thing otherwise and more briefly: What is
conceived through itself cannot be conceived through something else as its cause,
by Axiom 4. For the rest, I grant the demonstration if substance be taken as something
which is conceived through itself. The case is different if substance is taken to be
something which is in itself, as this is commonly understood, unless he shows that to
be in itself and to be conceived through itself are the same thing.
Proposition 7. To exist pertains to the nature of substance. One substance cannot be
produced by another, by Proposition 6. Therefore it is the cause of itself, that is, by
Definition 1, its essence involves existence. Here he is rightly to be criticized for using
the term 'cause of itself' sometimes in the special sense which he has given it in Defi-
nition 1 and sometimes in its common and popular meaning. Yet it is easy to remedy
this, if he transforms Definition 1 into an axiom and says: Whatever is not from
something else is from itself, or from its own essence. But then there remain other
difficulties here. For the reasoning is valid only on the assumption that substance can
exist. For since it cannot be produced by something else, it must exist by itself, and
hence exist necessarily. But it must be demonstrated that substance is possible, that is,
that it can be conceived. This, I think, can be demonstrated: for, if nothing can be
conceived through itself, nothing will be conceivable through something else either,
and therefore nothing will be conceivable at all. To show this more distinctly, we must
consider that if a is assumed to be conceived through b, the concept of b must be
contained in the concept of a. And, again, if b is conceived through c, the concept of
c must be contained in the concept of b, and thus the concept of c will be contained in
the concept of a; and so on, to the last concept. If someone answers that there is no
last concept, I reply that then there is no first one either, and I prove it as follows.
Since there is nothing except alien elements in the concept of that which is conceived
through something else, then proceeding by stages through many concepts, it will have
either nothing whatever in it or nothing except what is conceived through itself. I be-
lieve that although this demonstration is new, it is infallible. With its aid it can be
proved that what is conceived through itself is possible. Yet we can still doubt whether
it is possible in the sense in which it is here assumed to be possible, namely, not merely
for that which is conceivable, but for that of which some cause can be conceived which
is eventually reducible to a first cause. For not everything which is conceivable by us
can therefore be produced, because of other more important things with which it may
be incompatible. Thus, to prove that a being conceived through itself actually exists,
we must resort to experience, because, since things exist which are conceived through
other things, a thing exists through which they are conceived. So you see that an
entirely different kind of reasoning is necessary to prove accurately that there is a thing
which exists through itself. 7 But perhaps there is no need of this extreme caution.

Proposition 8. Every substance is necessarily infinite, because otherwise it would

be limited by another substance of the same nature, by Definition 2, and there would
be two substances of the same nature, which contradicts Proposition S. This propo-
sition must be understood as follows. A thing which is conceived through itself is
infinite within its own kind; this must be admitted. But the demonstration suffers from
obscurity as to the term 'to be limited' and also from uncertainty, by reason of Propo-
sition S. In the scholium he gives an elegant proof that there is only one thing that is
conceived through itself (within its own kind, that is), because, assuming that there is a
plurality of individuals, there must be some reason in nature why there should be just
so many and no more. But the reason for there being exactly so many is the same as that
for there being this one and that one, and therefore the same as the reason for there
being this particular one. But this reason is not to be found in one of them rather than
another; therefore the reason is outside all of them. One objection is possible, namely,
that the number of individuals is unlimited or no number at all, or that it exceeds any
number. But this could be avoided if we take only some of them and ask why these
exist, or if we take several of them having a common property such as existence in the
same place, and ask why they exist in this place.
Proposition 9. The more reality or being a thing possesses, the more attributes
belong to it. (He should have explained what is meant by reality or being, for these
terms are subject to equivocation.) His demonstration: it follows from Definition 4.
Thus our author. But it does not seem to me to follow from it. For one thing can have
more reality than another for the reason that it is greater in its own kind or has a
greater share in some attribute. For example, the circle has more extension than the
inscribed square. And it can still be doubted that several attributes may belong to the
same substance, in the sense in which the author understands attributes. Meanwhile
I admit that if his meaning of attributes is accepted and attributes are supposed to be
compatible, a substance is the more perfect, the more attributes it has.
Proposition 10. Each attribute of the same substance must be conceived through
itself, by Definitions 4 and 3. But then it follows, as I have several times objected,
that one substance can have only one attribute if this attribute expresses its whole
essence.
Proposition 11. God, or the substance which consists of infinite attributes, each of
which expresses an eternal and infinite essence, necessarily exists. He gives three
demonstrations. First, because God is a substance and therefore exists, by Proposition
7. But this assumes that a substance necessarily exists, which was not sufficiently
proved in Proposition 7, and that God is a possible substance, which is not so easy to
prove. The second proof is that there must always be a cause for the being of a thing
as well as for its nonbeing. But there can be no reason why God should not exist - not
in his own nature, for this implies no contradiction; not in anything else, for that
something else would either be of the same nature and attribute, and therefore would
be God, or it would not, in which case it would have nothing in common with God and
so could neither support nor prevent his existence. To this I reply (1) that he has not
yet proved that God's nature does not imply contradiction, even though the author
says without proof that it is absurd to say that it does, and (2) that another being
could have the same nature as God in some things but not in all. His third argument:
finite beings exist, by experience. Therefore, if an infinite being did not exist, the
finite beings would be more potent than the infinite being. To this I reply: If the infinite
being implies a contradiction, it will have no power at all; not to mention that the ca-
pacity to exist cannot properly be called a power.
Propositions 12 and 13. No attribute of substance can truly be conceived from which
it would follow that substance is divisible; or taken absolutely, substance is indivi-
sible. For it will be destroyed by division; the parts will not be infinite and therefore
not substances. Or else there would be several substances of the same nature. I grant
this argument for a thing existing through itself. Hence the corollary follows that
no substance is divisible, and therefore the corporeal substance, too, is in-
divisible.
Proposition 14. There is no substance besides God, and none can be conceived.
Because all attributes pertain to God and there is no plurality of substances with the
same attribute, there are no substances besides God. All this presupposes the definition
of substance as a being which is conceived through itself, as well as many other propo-
sitions, already noted, which cannot be granted. (It does not yet seem certain to me
that bodies are substances; with minds the case is different.)
Corollary 1. There is only one God.
Corollary 2. Thinking being and extended being are either attributes of God or, by
Axiom 1, affections of the attri butes of God. Here he speaks confusedly; besides he has
not yet shown that extension and thought are attributes or can be conceived through
themselves.
Proposition 15. Whatever is, is in God, and nothing exists or can be conceived
without God. For since there is no substance besides God, by Proposition 14, all
other things are affections or modes of God, because there is nothing besides substances
and modes. (Again he omits attributes.)
Proposition 16. From the necessity of the divine nature there must follow an infinite
number of things in infinite modes, that is, everything which can be an object of an
infinite intellect, by Definition 6.
Corollary 1. Hence it follows that God is the efficient cause of everything which is
the object of his intellect.
Corollary 2. God is a cause through himself and not by accident.
Corollary 3. God is absolutely the first cause.
Proposition 17. God acts solely according to the laws of his own nature and is
coerced by no one, since there is nothing outside of him.
Corollary 1. Hence it follows, first, that there is no cause which moves God to act,
either extrinsically or intrinsically, except the perfection of his own nature.
Corollary 2. Only God is a free cause.
In the scholia he explains in more detail that God has created everything which is in
his intellect (though it would seem that he has created only what he wills). He also
says that the intellect of God differs in essence from our intellect and that the name
'intellect' can be ascribed to both only equivocally, like calling both the heavenly
constellation and a barking animal a dog. The thing caused differs from its cause in
that which it receives from its cause. One man differs from another with respect to the
existence which he receives from him; he differs from God with respect to the essence
which he receives from God.
Proposition 18. God is the immanent, not the transeunt, cause of all things. This
follows from the proposition which he thinks he has proved above, namely, that only
God is a substance, and all the rest his modes.

Proposition 19. God or all his attributes are eternal. For his essence involves
existence, and his attributes involve his essence. In addition, the author refers to the
proof given in Proposition 19 of his work on the Principles of Descartes and approves
of the way he demonstrated it. 8
Proposition 20. The essence and the existence of God are one and the same thing.
He proves this as follows: all that can be attributed to God belongs to his essence;
all his attributes are eternal (Proposition 19) and therefore express existence (by the
definition of eternity). But the same attributes also express essence, by the definition of
attributes. Therefore essence and existence are the same in God. I reply that this does
not follow but only that essence and existence are expressed by the same thing. I note
also that this proposition presupposes the preceding one; if, therefore, the demonstra-
tion of the preceding proposition were applied instead of the proposition itself to the
demonstration of the present one, an awkward circle would become apparent, as
follows. I prove that God's essence and existence are one and the same, because the
attributes of God express both essence and existence. They express essence by the
definition of an attribute, and they express existence because they are eternal. But
they are eternal because they involve existence, since they express the essence of God,
which involves existence. What need, then, of mentioning the eternity of attributes and
Proposition 19, since the matter reduces to nothing more than a proof that the exist-
ence and essence of God are one and the same thing, because the essence of God in-
volves existence. All the rest is introduced as an empty pretentious device to twist the
whole into the form of a demonstration. Reasoning of this kind is very common
among men who do not know the true art of demonstration.
Corollary 1. Hence it follows that God's existence, as well as his essence, is an
eternal truth. I do not see how this proposition follows from the preceding one; in fact,
it is far more true and clear than the preceding. For it becomes evident at once, if we
assume that God's essence involves existence, even if essence and existence are not
admitted to be one and the same.
Corollary 2. God and all his attributes are immutable. The author's statement and
proof of this are both obscure and confused.
Proposition 21. All that follows from the absolute nature of some attribute of God
must exist always and be infinite or is eternal and infinite through this same attribute.
He demonstrates this obscurely and at length, though it is easy.
Proposition 22. Whatever follows from some attribute of God, inasmuch as it is
modified by such a modification as exists necessarily and is eternal through this
attribute, must also exist necessarily and be infinite. He says the demonstration
proceeds as in the preceding. So it too is obscure. I wish he had given an example of
such a modification.
Proposition 23. Every mode which exists necessarily and is infinite must follow
necessarily either from the absolute nature of some attribute of God or from some
attribute modified by a mode which exists necessarily and is infinite. That is, such a
mode follows from the absolute nature of some attribute, either immediately or by the
mediation of some other such mode.
Proposition 24. The essence of the things produced by God does not involve
existence, for otherwise they would be the causes of themselves, by Definition 1, which
is contrary to hypothesis. This proposition is obvious on other grounds, but this
demonstration is fallacious. For in Definition 1, 'being the cause of itself' has taken on
a particular sense which is not its common meaning. The author therefore cannot
substitute the common meaning of the word in place of his own arbitrary meaning
without showing that the two are equivalent. 9
Proposition 25. God is the efficient cause not only of the existence of things but of
their essence as well. Otherwise the essence of things could be conceived without God,
by Axiom 4. But this proof carries no weight. For even admitting that the essence of
things cannot be conceived without God, by Proposition 15, it would not follow that
God is the cause of their essence. For the fourth axiom does not say that 'the cause of a
thing is that without which it cannot be conceived'. (This would be false, for a circle
cannot be conceived without a center, or a line without a point, yet the center is not the
cause of the circle, nor the point of the line.) The fourth axiom says merely that 'the
knowledge of the effect involves the knowledge of the cause', which is something far
different. Nor is this axiom convertible - not to mention the fact that to involve
something is one thing and to be inconceivable without it is another. The knowledge
of a parabola involves the knowledge of its focus, yet the parabola can be conceived
without it.
Corollary. Particular things are nothing but the affections or modes of the attributes
of God, which express these attributes in a definite and determinate way. He says this
is evident from Definition 5 and Proposition 15, but the connection between this
corollary and the present Proposition 25 is not clear. Spinoza is certainly not a great
master of the art of demonstrating. This corollary is evident enough from what was
said above, but it is true only if it is understood in the right sense; that is, in the sense
not that things are such modes but that the ways in which we conceive particular
things are determinate ways of conceiving the divine attributes. 1o
Proposition 28. Any individual thing, or anything which is finite and has a deter-
minate existence, cannot exist or be determined to act unless it is determined to exist
and to act by some other cause which is also finite and has a determinate existence, and
this in turn by another, and so on to infinity. For nothing limited, finite, and existing
in a definite time can follow from the absolute essence of God. Rightly understood,
this opinion leads to many absurdities. According to it, things would not truly follow
from the nature of God. For the determining thing is in its tum determined by another
thing, and so on to infinity; thus things are in no way determined by God. God merely
contributes something absolute and general of his own. It would be more correct to
say that one particular thing is not determined by another in an infinite progression,
for in that case things would always remain indeterminate, no matter how far you
carry the progression. All particular things are rather determined by God.l l Prior
things are not the full cause of the posterior 1Z, but God rather creates posterior things
so that they are connected with the prior according to certain rules of wisdom. If we
say that prior things are the efficient causes of posterior, the posterior will in tum be
the final causes of the prior, in the opinion of those who hold that God operates
according to purposes.
Proposition 29. There is nothing contingent in the nature of things, but everything
is determined to a certain way of existence and action by the necessity of the divine
nature. The demonstration is obscure and abrupt, being carried through by means of
the abrupt, obscure, and questionable propositions which have preceded it. The matter
depends on the definition of 'contingent', which he has given nowhere. I use the term
'contingent', as do others, for that whose essence does not involve existence. In

this sense particular things are contingent according to Spinoza himself, by Propo-
sition 24. But if you take contingent in the sense of some of the Scholastics, a
usage unknown to Aristotle and to common life, as that which happens in such a way
that no reason of any kind can be given why it should have happened thus rather than
otherwise, and as that whose cause is equally disposed to act and not to act when all
the conditions, both internal and external, have been fulfilled, then I think that such
contingency implies a contradiction; for according to the hypotheses of a divine will
and a given state of things, everything is defined and determined by its own nature,
even though this nature may be unknown to us and is determined not by itself but,
according to the supposition or hypothesis, by the external conditions.
Proposition 30. Both the actually finite intelkct and the actually infinite intellect
must comprehend the attributes of God and the affections of God and nothing else.
This proposition, which is clear enough from the preceding, and true if taken in the
right sense, our author proves in another obscure, questionable, and devious way, as is
his wont. He says, namely, that a true idea must agree with its object; that is, as is
self-evident (so he says, though I am unable to understand why it is self-evident or even
true), that what is contained in the intellect as its object must necessarily exist in nature
but that there is only one substance in nature, namely God. These propositions,
however, are obscure, questionable, and far-fetched. Our author's mind seems to have
been most tortuous; he rarely proceeds by a clear and natural route but always ad-
vances in disconnected and circuitous steps, and most of his demonstrations surprise
the mind instead of enlightening it.
Proposition 31. The intellect, whether actually finite or infinite, along with the
will, desire, love, etc., must be ascribed to the natura naturata and not to the natura
naturans. By natura naturans he means God and his absolute attributes; by natura
naturata, his modes. But he regards intellect as nothing but a certain mode of thinking.
Hence he says elsewhere that strictly speaking, God has neither intellect nor will. I do
not agree with this.
Proposition 32. Will cannot be called a free cause but only a necessary one, be-
cause 'only that which is determined by itself is free. But will is a mode of thought and
is therefore determined by something other than itself.
Proposition 33. The world could not have been produced by God in any other way
than it has been produced, for it follows from the immutable nature of God. This
proposition may be true or false, depending on how it is explained. On the hypothesis
that the divine will chooses the best or works in the most perfect way, certainly only
this world could have been produced; but, if the nature of the world is considered in
itself, a different world could have been produced. Thus we say that confirmed angels
cannot sin, in spite of their freedom. They could if they willed, but they do not will.
Speaking absolutely, they can will to sin, but in this existing state of things they no
longer can so will. In his scholium the author rightly recognizes that something may be
rendered impossible for two different reasons - either because it implies contradiction
or because there is no external cause apt to produce it. He denies, in his second scho-
Hum, that God does all things in view of the good. He has already denied God a will,
it is true, and he thinks that those who disagree make God subject to fate, though he
himself admits that God does all things according to the principle of perfection.
Proposition 34. The power of God is his essence itself, because it follows from his
essence that he is the cause of himself and of the other things.
Proposition 35. Whatever is in God's power exists necessarily, that is, it follows
from his essence. 13
Proposition 36. Nothing exists from whose nature some effect does not follow,
because it expresses the nature of God, that is his power, in a certain and determined
way, by Proposition 34. This proposition does not follow, but it is nonetheless true.
He adds an appendix in which he attacks those who believe that God acts according
to purposes. The appendix is a mixture of truth and falsehood. Even though it is true
that not everything happens for the sake of men, it does not follows that God acts
without will or knowledge of the good.
REFERENCES
1 An important distinction for Leibniz, as the following comments show, for the individual
monad is in itself but cannot be conceived adequately except in terms of its relations to God
and to other monads. This criticism of Spinoza may be regarded as clearing the way for his
own solution of the problem of the one and the many and therefore for his theory of represen-
tation.
2 For Leibniz's conception of attribution see No. 35, Sec. 8. A reciprocal predicate is one
which mutually implies and is implied by the substance and is therefore complete enough to
include the total meaning of the subject. An essential predicate may be any component of this,
while a primary essential predicate is one not further reducible, or one of the 'simple' concepts
out of which the law of the individual nature is compounded.
3 The principle of equipollence is a methodological application of the law of identity to parti-
cular fields of knowledge, in the realms of both the possible and the existent. In general, it is
defined in terms of successful substitution; for example, in mathematics, a function for its
dependent variable; in logic, a definition for its definitum; in geometry, congruent or (in less
complete concepts) similar relations; in dynamics, the quantitative relations among effects for
those among causes, or work done for energy expended, and the converse.
4 This is reminiscent of No. 14, I, and the discussion with Spinoza which it involved. In this
discussion it should be remembered that Leibniz frequently shows that neither extension nor
thought is a simple concept. But Leibniz's difficulty here is with the issue whether substance
is simple or not, as his comments on Propositions 9 and 10 below, show. Leibniz dislikes the
term 'attribute' and is not sure whether to equate it with a primary essence or with a total or
complete essence.
5 And are therefore not attributes as simple primary concepts (see No. 25 and p. 169, note 2).
Ultimately every substance has only one essence, though this is complex and complete, taking
the form of the individual notion or law. The use of the term 'express' is not yet Leibniz's but
suggests a duality of essence and attribute (see note 6 beloW).
6 Leibniz was thus one of the first to note that Spinoza's attributes may be taken in a subjec-
tive sense.
7 Note that Leibniz here sharply differentiates logical possibility and necessity from existence
and thus rejects the general ontological principle that essences exist, though they demand or
strive for existence. Instead he here appeals to experience to establish existence. Though he has
not yet rejected the ontological argument for God, therefore, he here admits that it does not
establish the existence of primary concepts in the commonly accepted sense of existence. See
note 13, below.
8 See Spinoza's R. Descartes Principia philosophiae more geometrico demonstrata, Book I,
Proposition 19, together with 5 and 6. The proof referred to is the ontological argument.
9 Marginal note: "It follows from this proposition, contrary to Spinoza himself, that not all
things are necessary. For if the essence of a thing does not involve its existence, it is not
necessary. "
10 The pivotal term here is 'express', which Leibniz is already interpreting to involve an
epistemology of symbolic representation, a view which supports his pluralism and phenomena-
lism (see Proposition 30, below).
11 This general argument is refined in No. 51. Leibniz here reasons from his own pluralism,
finding the basis for unity (i.e., harmony) in the conditions of our knowledge of things or
specifically, in the interrelations of representation by which each individual reflects the entire
universe.
12 Leibniz miswrote: "nec posteriora priorum esse causam plenam", an obvious slip of the
pen.
18 See Proposition 33 above. This is the point to which many of Leibniz's comments have
been leading; not all possibilities exist, as Spinoza holds (see No. 31, I and II).
21
WHAT IS AN IDEA?
1678
In the marginal notes in his copy of Spinoza's Ethics, to Definition 4 ofPart II, Leibniz
commented: "Explicandum ergo erat, quid sit vera idea." An earlier answer to the question
had been given in his theological and legal writings (Nos. 5 and 6, II) and in his comments
on criticisms of Malebranche (No. 11, II). But his earlier theory was metaphysical and
needed to be related to the epistemological questions which were now foremost in philosoph-
ical discussion. This Leibniz did in his theory of expression or representation, for
which his criticism of Spinoza prepared the way and which was clearly stated, with both
epistemological and methodological applications, in this short paper from the same year.
[G., VII, 263-64]
First of all, by the term idea we understand something which is in our mind. Traces
impressed on the brain are therefore not ideas, for I take it as certain that the mind is
something other than the brain or a more subtle part ofthe brain substance.
There are many things in our mind, however, which we know are not ideas, though
they would not occur without ideas - for example, thoughts, perceptions, and affec-
tions. In my opinion, namely, an idea consists, not in some act, but in the faculty of
thinking, and we are said to have an idea of a thing even if we do not think of it, if only,
on a given occasion, we can think of it.
Yet there is one difficulty in this view, for we have a 'remote' faculty for thinking of
all things, even those of which we may, perhaps, not have ideas, because we have the
faculty of receiving ideas of them. Idea therefore requires a certain 'near' faculty or
ability to think about a thing.!
This does not quite suffice, however, for he who has a method which will lead him
to some object if he follows it does not therefore have an idea of the object. So if I
enumerate the conic sections in order, I shall certainly come to the knowledge of the
opposite branches of the hyperbola, even though I do not yet have an idea of them.
Hence there must be something in me which not merely leads me to the thing but also
expresses it.
That is said to express a thing in which there are relations [habitudines] which corre-
spond to the relations of the thing expressed. But there are various kinds of expression;
for example, the model of a machine expresses the machine itself, the projective
delineation on a plane expresses a solid, speech expresses thoughts and truths, charac-
ters express numbers, and an algebraic equation expresses a circle or some other figure.
What is common to all these expressions is that we can pass from a consideration of the
relations in the expression to a knowledge of the corresponding properties of the thing
expressed. Hence it is clearly not necessary for that which expresses to be similar to the
thing expressed, if only a certain analogy is maintained between the relations.

It is also clear that some expressions have a basis in nature, while others are arbi-
trary, at least in part, such as the expressions which consist of words or characters.
Those which are founded in nature either require some similarity, such as that between
a large and a small circle or that between a geographic region and a map of the region,
or require some connection such as that between a circle and the elIipse which repre-
sents it optically, since any point whatever on the eIlipse corresponds to some point on
the circle according to a definite law. Indeed, a circle would be poorly represented by
any other figure more similar to it in such a case. Similarly every entire effect represents
the whole cause, for I can always pass from the knowledge of such an effect to a
knowledge of its cause. So, too, the deeds of each one represent his mind, and in a way
the world itself represents God. It may also happen that the effects which arise from
the same cause express each other mutually, as for example, gesture and speech. So
deaf people understand speakers, not by sound, but by the motion of the mouth.
That the ideas of things are in us means therefore nothing but that God, the creator
alike of the things and of the mind, has impressed a power of thinking upon the mind
so that it can by its own operations derive what corresponds perfectly to the nature of
things. Although, therefore, the idea of a circle is not similar to the circle, truths can
be derived from it which would be confirmed beyond doubt by investigating a real
circle.
REFERENCE
1 The 'nearfacuIty' is defined in No. 11, II (comment on page 39 of Foucher's reply to Gabets).
The 'near' or immediate faculty of thinking seems to be that of the intuited pattern of thought
itself, while the 'remote' ability involves the reference of this given unity of symbol and
objective structure to further objects not yet known. When these are known through rational
deduction or inference, we have new ideas.
22
LETTERS TO NICOLAS MALE BRANCHE

1679
(Selections)
The acquaintance between Leibniz and Nicolas Malebranche, member of the Oratory and
distinguished Cartesian and Platonist, began in Paris around 1675; the first volume of the
Recherche de la verite (1674) had then evoked both criticism and qualified defense by
Leibniz (cf No. 11, IJ). Their early correspondence had been concerned with the Carte-
sian theory of body and extension, which Leibniz was already criticizing. On receiving a
copy of Malebranche's Conversations chretiennes, published in 1677, from the Princess
Elizabeth, Countess Palatine and sister of the Duchess Sophia of Hanover, Leibniz
seized the opportunity to revive the correspondence. Letters between the two men
continued intermittently until 1711. Many personal references and items of current
intellectual gossip have been omitted in these translations.
[G., I, 327-28]
Hanover, January 13/23, 1679
... Through the favor of her highness, the Princess Elizabeth, who is celebrated as
much for her learning as for her birth, I have been able to see your Christian Conver-
sations. 1 Her judgment on it is very favorable, and indeed, it contains many things that
are very penetrating and very sound. I have grasped your opinion better through it than
I had done in the past in reading the Recherche de la verite, because I did not have
enough leisure then. I wish you had not written solely for Cartesians, as you say you
have done, for all sectarian labels should be odious, it seems to me, to a lover of the
truth. Descartes has said some fine things; his was a most penetrating and judicious
mind. But it is impossible to do everything at once, and he has given us only some
beautiful beginnings, without getting to the bottom of things. It seems to me that he is
still far from the true analysis and the general art of discovery. For I am convinced that
his mechanics is full of errors, that his physics goes too fast, that his geometry is too
narrow, and that his metaphysics is all these things together.
As for his metaphysics, you yourself have shown its imperfection, and I am entirely
of your opinion concerning the impossibility of conceiving that a substance which has
nothing but extension, without thought, can act upon a substance which has nothing
but thought, without extension. But I believe that you have gone only halfway and
that still other consequences can be drawn than those which you have made. In my
opinion it follows that matter is something different from mere extension, and I
believe, besides, that this can be demonstrated.
I agree with you completely when you say that God acts in the most perfect manner

possible. 2 And when you say in one particular passage that "it is perhaps a contradic-
tion that man should be more perfect than he is in relation to the bodies which sur-
round him", you have only to strike out the perhaps. I find also that you make a most
beautiful use of final causes; I have had a bad opinion of Mr. Descartes for rejecting
them and also for certain other passages of his in which the depths of his soul seem to
be exposed.
I beg you to commend me to Mr. Arnauld when you have occasion and to bear him
witness that I shall honor his virtue and his equally incomparable learning all my life.
I should like to know whether your Mr. Prestet continues his work in analysis. 3
I hope so, for he seems fitted for it. I recognize more and more the imperfection of what
we now have. For example, it gives us no way to solve the problems of Diophantine
arithmetic; it can provide no method 0/ inverse tangents, that is, of finding the curve
from the given property 0/ its tangent; it supplies no way of extracting the irrational
roots of equations of higher degree; it is far removed from quadrature problems. In
short, I could write a scholarly work on what it has not done and on what no Cartesian,
whoever he may be, can succeed in doing without discovering some method which
goes further than that of Descartes.
If I have the leisure, I hope some day to show, by some effective evidence, how far
Descartes was from giving us the foundations of the true method. And not to mention
other matters, it will then be seen that we are already able to take a bigger step beyond
his own geometry than his takes beyond the geometry of the ancients.
Though I do not agree with all your opinions, I nevertheless find so many excellent
thoughts in your works that I hope you will continue to produce them for us.
II
[G., I, 330-31]
June 22jJuly 2, 1679
I have received your letter, for which I am obliged to you. 4 Shortly afterward I also
received the Meditations on Metaphysics, which I can also attribute only to you, or at
least to this Abbe Catelan to whom you ascribe the Christian Conversations.' He must
be an able man and completely familiar with your opinions. I have read these Medita-
tions, not as one reads an ordinary book, but carefully, and if you will permit my
frankness, I shall tell you what ideas I have formed about them. I approve most
heartily these two propositions which you advance: that we see all things in God and
that strictly speaking, bodies do not act upon us. I have always been convinced of this
for important reasons which seem to me indisputable and which rest on certain axioms
which I do not as yet see used anywhere, though they could be most serviceable in
proving some other theses no less important than those I have just mentioned.
As for the existence and nature of what we call body, we dec.!ive ourselves even
more than you say, and I agree with you that it would be hard to prove that there is
extension outside of us in the sense in which this is usually understood. But as for
other spirits than ourselves, their existence can be demonstrated, and there must be
more of them than is commonly believed. There is little difficulty concerning the
perpetuity of all these spirits once they exist, but there is much difficulty concerning
their beginning as this is commonly imagined.
I find very true, also, what you say about the simplicity of God's decrees being the
cause of the existence of certain particular evils, since God would otherwise be obliged
to change the laws of nature at each moment. But something more must be said about
this, and I remember once having shown a little dialogue to Mr. Arnauld and Mr. des
Billettes which went much further and left no more doubt about freedom, in my
opinion, unless one adopts an absurd and contradictory notion of it. Whatever acts is
free insofar as it acts. We must also say that God makes the maximum of things he can,
and what obliges him to seek simple laws is precisely the necessity to find place for as
many things as can be put together; if he made use of other laws, it would be like
trying to make a building with round stones, which make us lose more space than
they occupy.
As for the soul of beasts, I believe that you would judge quite differently from
Descartes about them if you were to regard your own positions from the same point
of view as I do, who am convinced of them, but for reasons which differ from yours.
The reasons which you give in your Meditations do not seem convincing enough and
do not lead where they should. I do not say this out of vanity or a spirit of contradic-
tion, b'\lt I hold the remark to be necessary. For long experience has shown me that
our thoughts are confused as long as we do not have rigorous demonstrations. This,
I think, is why we can reason a little more loosely in mathematics, where matters are
self-regulating, but that we should reason with greater rigor in metaphysics, because
we lack the aid of imagination and experience there and because the slightest lapse in
that field produces bad effects which it is hard to notice.
I believe the fact that you approve in Mr. Descartes what I am unable to appreciate
results from our not understanding each other well. I consider it certain that the
proofs which he produces for the existence of God are imperfect as long as he does not
prove that we have an idea of God or of the greatest of all beings. You may reply that,
if we did not, we could not reason about him. But one can also reason about the
greatest of all numbers, an idea which nevertheless implies a contradiction, as does
also the greatest of all velocities. This is why we still need much deep meditation to
complete this demonstration. Someone may say: I conceive the most perfect of all
beings because I conceive my own imperfection and that of the other imperfect beings,
though they may be more perfect than I, and I would not know this without knowing
what an absolutely perfect being is. But this is still not sufficiently convincing, for I
can judge that two is not an infinitely perfect number, because I have, or can perceive
in my mind, the idea of another number more perfect than it, and still another more
perfect than this. Yet after all, I still do not get from this any idea of an infinite num-
ber, though I see very well that I can always find a number greater than any given
number whatever. 6
The distinction between soul and body is not yet entirely proved. For since you
admit that we do not conceive distinctly what thought is, it is not enough that we are
able to doubt the existence of extension (that is, of the extension which we conceive
distinctly) without being able to doubt thought. This, I say, is not enough to draw a
conclusion as to how far the distinction can be carried between what is extended and
what thinks, since it can be said that perhaps it is only our ignorance which distin-
guishes them and that in some way unknown to us thought includes extension.
Nevertheless I am convinced of all these aforesaid truths, in spite of the imper-
fection of their ordinary proofs, instead of which I think I can give rigorous demon-
strations. Since I began to meditate when I was not yet imbued with Cartesian opinions,

I penetrated into the nature of things by another door and discovered new lands.
So strangers making a tour of France who follow the paths of those who have preceded
them never experience anything unusual unless they are very careful or very lucky,
while those who take the side roads, even at the risk of getting lost, are more likely to
meet with things which other travelers do not know.
You have delighted me with your information that Mr. Arnauld is perfectly restored
to health. God grant that he may enjoy it a long time still, for where should we find a
person like him? I beg you to assure him of my respect. 7 •••
REFERENCES
1 The work appeared anonymously. It contained an apology for Christianity in dialogue

form, and from the Cartesian point of view. Leibniz made extensive notes on it (PA., II, i,
442-54).
2 Malebranche, however, supplied merely a confirmation of this Leibnizian opinion and was
not its source, as some interpreters have held (see above, p. 147, note 1).
3 Jean Prestet (d. 1690) published his Elements des mathematiques in 1675. Wallis and others
regarded Malebranche as the author of the anonymous work, to which Prestet, however,
attached his name in the second edition, in 1689. Though he distinguished himself in theory of
numbers, of combinations, and of equations, Malebranche reported in his next letter that
Prestet had withdrawn from mathematical work and entered the Oratory but was preparing
a revision of his Elements.
4 In his brief reply (G., I, 329), Malebranche ascribed the authorship of the Conversations
chretiennes to his pupil, the Abbe Catelan (who was later to take issue with Leibniz's criticism
of the Cartesian principle of the conservation of quantity of motion). Malebranche defended
Descartes but was not inclined to enter into an argument. That this did not deter Leibniz. the
following letter shows. Meanwhile another anonymous work, which Leibniz assumed also to
be Malebranche's, also reached Hanover.
5 In his briefreply of July 31, 1679, to this letter (G., I, 339-40), Malebranche wrote: "The
author of the Meditations on Metaphysics is the Abbe de Lanion. Although he did not set his
name to it, he is not concealing it; I know this because he has told me so, and many other
people whom I know. So please do not ascribe this work to me."
The Meditations sur la metaphysique, according to Pierre Bayle, appeared with the author
given as Guillaume Wander. It was purportedly printed in Cologne but apparently actually
printed in Paris itself in 1678. Bayle's edition, in Recueil de quelques pieces curieuses concernant
la philosophie de Monsieur Descartes (1684), is the best available, since the first edition was
withdrawn, and copies were scarce even when Bayle prepared his edition. The influence of
Malebranche is obvious.
6 Marginal note on Leibniz's copy: "However, I conceive the highest perfection absolutely;
otherwise I could not apply it to a number, where it is applied unsuccessfully."
7 The warm friendship between Malebranche and Arnauld was to end in 1683 in the celebrated
controversy over the nature of ideas (cf. No. 33 and p. 276, note 13).
23
TWO DIALOGUES ON RELIGION

Ca. 1678
(Selections)
There are many evidences of a heightened interest in religion during the first years which
Leibniz spent at Hanover; among them are four dialogues on religion written around
1678. Parts of two of these are here translated. The first is satirical in mood and contrasts
the true love of God with ecclesiastical fashions and superstitions. It may be considered
as the literary account of discussions between Leibniz himself and Nicolas Steno, apos-
tolic vicar at Hanover at that time. 1 The second, without title, but with a marginal note
saying, .. Written before the death of Duke John Frederick", ends in a mood of deep
exaltation. It describes the moral effects of the religious faith which Leibniz's work was to
establish (cf. No. 28). Both dialogues are takenfrom Jean Baruzi's incomplete copies in
'Trois dialogues mystiques inedits de Leibniz', Revue de metaphysique et de morale 13
(1905) 1-38.
I. DIALOGUE BETWEEN POLIANDER AND THEOPHILE
Some months ago I found myself in the same coach with an apostolic missionary and a
very honorable man [homme honnete] of the Augsburg Confession who had had im-
portant duties at the court but had retired from the world to look after his salvation.
The missionary was named Poliander. He had grown old in controversy and had no
hesitation in starting in on people on this subject. So he at once attached himself to
Theophile (this was the gentleman's name), seeing him in a humor to listen peaceably.
Poliander deployed all his rhetoric and made use of the devices customary to those of
his kind. Theophile defended himself with a certain self-effacement and simplicity
which gave ample evidence of great resources and an enlightened and tranquil soul.
The discussion had already lasted a whole morning, and they had got no further than
ever, when Theophile, taking the lead with the purpose of changing the conversation
a little, began as follows.
Th. I am surprised that people are more strongly attached to these disputes than to
the practice of piety, Poliander. You agree that those who love God above all things
are in the state of salvation. Why is it necessary to entangle one's self further in so
many difficult problems? What end is gained?
Po. It is not enough to love God; it is necessary to obey his wishes, that is to say, the
church which interprets them.
Th. Whoever truly loves God above all things will not fail to do what he knows to
conform to his commands. This is why it is necessary to begin with this love, since
charity and justice are its inescapable results.
Po. A pagan philosopher can love God above all things, since his reason can teach

him that God is an infinitely perfect and a supremely lovable being. But this will not
make him a Christian, for he may not have heard anything about Jesus Christ, without
whom there is no salvation. So the love of God is not enough.
Th. This question of the salvation of pagans is too much for me. However, I have
much liking for the ideas of certain learned and pious theologians who believe that
God will illumine all those who sincerely seek him, at least at the point of death, and
will reveal to them, even internally, what it is necessary to know about Jesus Christ,
following the incontestable rule that God does not deny his grace to those who do
their part.
Po. I have no desire to fight opinions which seem quite fitting to reconcile piety
with reason, and I should agree with you that the love of God above all things does
suffice when the matter is understood in this way. But this love must necessarily be
true, serious, sincere, ardent, and active. For we try to learn the wishes of the person
whom we love and to conform to them. A true lover has regard for the slightest move-
ments of the person on whom his happiness depends. And yet the rest of you believe
you can dispense with learning the orders which God has made so very clear that no
one can claim grounds for ignorance of them. There is nothing more clear and more
conspicuous than his church, which may be seen afar off, like a city set upon a hill.
Yet you close your eyes in order not to see it.
Th. I confess that it is necessary to learn the will of him whom one loves and honors,
for the purpose of carrying it out. But since there is an order in everything, and one
cannot respond equally to diverse concerns, I believe at the same time that we must
begin our obedience with the first of his wishes, which is well enough known to us.
Reason and Scripture both tell us that we must love God above all things and our
neighbor as ourself. It even appears that this love suffices for salvation and that
everything else is but a result, following what we have just said.
Po. I assume that God is truly loved; I now ask what he who loves God ought to do.
And I maintain that the first concern we should have after the love of God is to search
for the true church.
Th. Good enough. But the assumption that you make is a great one and very rare
here below. What, Poliander! Do you really think that God is loved above all things?
I maintain that few people know what the love of God is....
Po. Perhaps the love of God is not as necessary as you think, and it suffices to fear
him. For, according to our teaching, attrition, that is penitence bestowed through fear
of punishment, suffices, along with the sacrament of absolution, even though one does
not love God above all things; that is, even though there is no contrition, for you
know the difference which exists between these two kinds of penitence. 2
Th. I am amazed that an opinion as dangerous as this is accepted among people
who confess Christianity. The Jansenists show us its absurdity, the Holy Fathers and
even the old Schoolmen are ignorant of it, and since God has commanded us to love
him above all things, it is very clear that whoever does not is in a state of mortal sin.
Po. Don't mention the Jansenists to me, Theophile. They are considered by Rome
as heretics. As for the Fathers, we study them very little; in fact, we have done away
with them, except for the many fine collections we have drawn from their writings,
which serve us to combat you. This is the whole use we make of the Fathers. What is
more, the ancients are eclipsed by the beautiful subtleties and unusual questions of the
modems. In a word, since the church is infallible, every opinion which is today public-
ly accepted in our chairs of theology cannot but be good, as is every practice publicly
received and approved by our flood of doctors. The doctrine of attrition is one of this
number, and we need seek no other proof of it.
Th. Yet there are men of piety and learning among you who speak of reform, who
try to call you back to the simplicity of doctrine and the exactitude of discipline which
was apparent in the primitive church.
Po. Such people are only visionaries or ambitious men who are scarcely better than
heretics, since they have the presumption to reform the holy church. Can infants
reform their mother? Nothing is more insupportable. But if you insist in wishing for
reformers, we have a good number of them, but they take care not to give offense to
the opinions received by the doctors.
Th. I see that you have no desire for reformers, if the matter is taken in a right
sense, for the church and what it teaches and approves are for you beyond reform.
What you would have are people who dote upon the mode 3 , and you call them reform-
ers in the sense that they are the founders and renovators of religious orders.
Po. If you mean by 'mode' what we call the accepted practice of the church in con-
formity with the century in which we live, this is true. For since the church is infallible,
it cannot but choose a mode which is fitting for the time. So when hermits are in vogue,
we must conform to the Thebaid; when Scholastic theology reigns, we must quibble as
much as possible; when casuists take their place, it is meritorious to be a casuist.
For though the casuists may have been in error when they diminished the number of
sins, this did not prevent their being useful, for men who believe that what they are
doing is not sinful, are not as great sinners as when they know they are sinning. But if
the casuists diminish the number of sins which are contrary to moral virtues, they
compensate for this by leading men to the Christian virtues, that is, they teach them
to have regard for sacred ceremonies and all sorts of religious observances accepted
today, for we must push things as far as we can. This is why the true reformers are
those who introduce certain fashions and modes of praying and of honoring God, such
as rosaries, chaplets, scapulars, and a thousand other sacred inventions, for they
teach people to conform to the mode which reigns in the church, which is the interpreter
of God's will.
Th. But you make no mention of charity or justice, and I do not see many reformers
who take up these things and stilI fewer who succeed with them in the minds of men of
the times - perhaps because this is not the mode.
Po. Take good care not to confuse such purely moral reforms with Christian re-
forms. Justice and charity are things which we can have in common with pagans; it
takes other pious practices to please God. That is, we need fastings, hair shirts,
disciplines, gratings, books of hours, the Ave Maria, and similar things; as for the
Lord's Prayer, I see nothing in it which a pagan cannot also say. This is why we make
much more of a case for the Ave Maria.
Th. I might well agree with all that you have said, Poliander, if we assumed the
infallibility of the practice which reigns in your church. But it seems to me that this
pushes infallibility a little too far. Many able men among you, besides, recognize no
other infallible Catholic doctrine than that coming from tradition. They give the
church the right to witness, not to rule. 4 This being so, it is not necessary to hold to the
practice which rules today but rather to that which the church received traditionally
from Jesus Christ and the apostles .... But let us leave the court of Rome, with all

its infallibility, since you have not proved it, and long discussion would be necessary to
reach the end. Let us return to what is more certain. This is that we must love God
above all things and our neighbor as ourselves. It is in this that the law consists; it is in
this that true active faith also consists, in conformity to the teaching of Jesus Christ.
For he has taught us this great secret; he has been not only the preceptor but also the
redeemer of mankind. The divinity which dwells in the human nature of Jesus Christ
has established reunion between God and men. There is no salvation at all except in
Jesus Christ. ... You call yourself an apostolic missionary, and we call ourselves
evangelicals. Let us agree with the evangelist and apostle Saint John, who proclaimed
nothing but this charity full of faith, and this divine love which enlightens through
good deeds, and we shall have enough to save ourselves and to win souls.
Po. I have received no instruction from Rome about that. However, I approve your
reasons in part, and I shall have a little more consideration for them in the future than
I have in the past. But you who have thought so well about the divine love, carry out
your promise as well. You have agreed with me that the first thing which we should
seek, after this love, is the true church. This is the true union of all the living members
of Jesus Christ; in a word, it is the universal charity.
Th. If you put it on that basis, I am already one of you. But it seems to me that you
demand something more which I can hardly grant you. You wish us to be convinced
of a great number of new and doubtful things and to condemn absolutely all who dare
to doubt them. Besides, you are too ceremonious, and you engage souls with so many
superfluous cares that they tum away from him who ought to be their chief care. All
this hurts this universal charity, it seems to me. But here is the inn; we can speak more
at our ease after we have refreshed ourselves a little from the fatigues of the journey.
II. DIALOGUE BETWEEN POLIDORE AND THEOPHILE
Theophile. I have found you somewhat changed for some time, my dear Polidore, and
it seems to me that your usual gaiety is lacking. Yet your affairs are prospering, your
prudence has been helped by fortune, and you lack none of the things which men seek
with such eagerness. You have wealth, you have acquired fame, and God has given
you so vigorous a constitution that we may hope to enjoy you for many more years.
So I cannot understand the cause of the change which I observe.
Polidore. I know that you love me, Theophile, and I esteem you enough to enlighten
you. I will tell you then, that what you see in me is not sadness but an indifference
which I feel about many of the things which once appealed to me. Now that I have
attained the things I wanted, I have come to recognize their vanity, and finding myself
at the peak of the joys to which men aspire here below, I recognize better than ever the
imperfection of human nature, which is incapable of solid happiness. You know that
gross lusts do not much move me, but a short time ago I found more and more that
the most refined pleasures of the mind are only pleasing deceptions which disappear
when closely examined. Is there anything on earth to which great spirits are more
sensitive than glory and the immortality of name which we like to imagine? And yet
what good will they do me when I am reduced to dust? These reasons will not keep me
from doing things worthy of approbation, for it is my habit to do them and I could
hardly do otherwise, but I shall no longer exert myself to acquire so chimerical an
immortality. My intellectual curiosity is thus diminished by half; I no longer enjoy the
beauties of nature and of art; and I find even less satisfaction in beautiful discourses,
for they often consist only in an outburst of weIl-arranged words. And though I
recognize that there are solid sciences like mathematics and mechanics, I observe that
these are of use only to those who maktl a profession of them, for they take too much
work. Since we shaIl lose the fruits of all our labors in a moment, let us not embarrass
ourselves with anything whatever but foIlow an easy path oflife and arm ourselves with
indifference against the deceptive charms of enterprise.
Th. I am sorry for you, Polidore, for I stle that you are depriving yourself of the
greatest satisfaction of life just when you are in the best circumstances to enjoy it.
But I am still more sorry for the public and for posterity, which will be deprived ofthe
great and exceIlent things you planned at a time when your affairs did not permit you
to carry them out. It makes me wonder at the conduct of men, who seek only what is
far off. But I perceive only that you have changed your maxims, that you no longer
believe that you are under obligation to trouble yourself for the public, and find it
ridiculous to work for a time when you will no longer exist. Yet I believe that you
would judge otherwise if you were convinced that there is a great monarch of the
universe, who takes everything done for the public as done for himself; and that if you
were convinced of the immortality of our souls, then you would take an interest in the
state of future centuries.
Po. If you are speaking to me as a theologian, I shaIl stop, for I submit to the faith.
But if you are limiting yourself to philosophical boundaries, I see great reasons for
doubting these beautiful things, which serve only to soften our misery by false hopes.
I admit that I should like to be one of those who are happy through their errors, but
since I see clearly that they are errors, it no longer rests with me but to tum my eyes away.
Th. But you, who have such exceIlent knowledge and have so often admired the
wisdom of nature, can you doubt a governing providence when you consider the
machine of the universe, which moves with such regularity?
Po. It seems to me no great wonder that the sun, turning about its center, carries
with it the liquid matter which surrounds it and is caIled ether and that this in tum also
carries along some great baIls caIled planets, which float in this ether and foIlow its
motion with greater or less speed in proportion to their solidity and distance. And
since they meet with no resistance, we need not be astonished that their periods are
regular, with no noticeable change for a long period oftime.
Th. What you say is reasonable. Once assume the motion of this ether as weIl as the
baIls of different solidity and volume around the sun, and the rest foIlows mechanicaIly.
But tell me how it happens that there is a sun, ether, and planets. Could not the world
have been made in an entirely different way? And who has made things this particular
way? Assuming even the choice of these bodies explained, whence comes the principle
of motion which we observe in them? ...
[In a long discussion Theophile brings Polidore to assent at last to Leibniz's prin-
ciple of the maximum compossible determination of existence, on the simplest assump-
tions.]
Th. See now if what we have just discovered ought not to be caIled God.
Po. The reasoning is excellent and sound, and I am most surprised. After this I will
not wonder at the marvelous structure of organic bodies, the smaIlest part of which
surpasses in craftsmanship all the machines which man can invent. But it seems that
this wisdom, which reveals such economy in each animal or organic body considered

separately, has left them afterward to attack each other in the greatest confusion
imaginable. A wretched sheep is tom apart by a wolf, a pigeon falls prey to some
vulture, the poor flies are exposed to the malice of spiders, and men themselves - what
a tyranny they exercise over the other animals, and even among themselves they are
more than wolves and more than vultures. What appearance of order is there in all
this? Or rather, since we have agreed on the sovereign wisdom of the Author of things,
we must say that he cares not at all for what we call justice and that he takes pleasure in
destruction as we take pleasure in hunting the beasts which prey on each other. Indivi-
duals must give way; there is room only for the species, some of which subsist through
the misfortune of others. And we in our folly are presumptuous enough to imagine
that he will exempt us from these universal cycles by means of an immortality which is
without example in nature and is all the more incredible, since a beginning must be
followed by an end.
Th. Your argument is plausible, and many persons of intelligence are unfortu-
nately impressed by it, but thank God, there is a way of meeting it. We have agreed
that God made everything in the greatest perfection of which the universe is capable.
Consequently each thing in it, or will have, as much perfection as it is capable of
claiming in proportion to what it already has, without doing violence to other things.
But since pleasure is nothing but the feeling of an increase of perfection, it follows
that God will give all creatures as much pleasure as they are capable of, so that those
who are reasonable find themselves as happy as possible, consistent with the harmony
of the universe, which demands that when the books are balanced there must be found
the greatest perfection and the greatest happiness possible in the whole. Perhaps this
is impossible without the misery of some who deserve it.
Now of all the creatures which surround us, it is only the spirit of man which is
capable of a true happiness. It can be said that the difference between God and man
is only one of more or less, though the ratio is infinite. Man demonstrates truths; he
invents machines and is capable of containing within himself the perfections of the
things whose ideas he conceives; he knows the great God, he honors him, he loves him,
and he imitates him. He exercises dominion over some things with a detachment and
an elevation like that of God, though his decisions meet with obstacles in their execu-
tion. One can say that with regard to the perfection of spirit, there is at least as much
difference between man and the other creatures in relation to God as there is between
God and man. In short, there is some community between God and men. For since
both are reasonable and have some commerce with each other, they compose a City
which must be governed in the most perfect manner. This is why, if God is sovereign
wisdom, as his admirable works show, and if wisdom seeks perfection everywhere
insofar as it is possible, we cannot doubt that the most perfect beings and those who
most nearly approach God are the ones most considered in nature, and that God is
concerned for their happiness in preference to everything else. Finally, this is possible,
and the order of the universe does not oppose it. It is true that our bodies are subject
to the impact of other bodies and hence to dissolution. But the soul is a substance
entirely different from matter and space and hence cannot be destroyed. And since
this is so, it is capable of subsisting and of being happy in spite of the destruction in the
world. Provided that God leaves it memory and thoughts, the soul can be happy and
unhappy, punished and rewarded, according to the laws of this City of which God is
the monarch ....
Po. Your reasons are effective and permit no reply, and I admit that I am moved by
them, all the more since you have most remarkably anticipated the objections of those
who believe that all souls must be reunited to the soul of the universe, as the body is
lost in the general mass. For as you have well said, that which is once a body apart will
always remain so and carry out its own functions in such a manner that it will be
united with something else. Besides, this union of souls with the universal soul con-
sists in a play on words only, which mean nothing, for souls are not like raindrops or
brooklets which return to the ocean. If this comparison were good, it could stilI be said
that each atom of the raindrop does not cease to subsist in the ocean as well and that
souls as well never cease to have each its own thoughts when reunited to the universal
soul of God....
[In the following section Theophile gains Polidore's assent to the view that the will of
God, the universal monarch, is reflected in the kingdom of spirits.]
Th. Since you have acknowledged this great point, let us draw its practical conse-
quences. First, it follows that the world is governed in such a way that a wise person
who is well informed will have nothing to find fault with and can find nothing more to
desire. Second, every wise man ought to be content, not only out of necessity as if he
were compelled to be patient, but with pleasure and a kind of extreme satisfaction,
knowing that everything happens in such a way that the interests of each individual
person who is persuaded of this truth will be achieved with every possible advantage.
For when God admits us a little further into his secrets than he has until now, then
among other surprises, there will be that of seeing the wonderful inventions which he
has used to make us happy beyond our possible conception. Third, we ought to love
God above all things, since we find everything with greater perfection in him than in
things themselves, and since his goodness provides us with our whole power. For it is
by this goodness that we obtain everything we can wish for our happiness. Fourth, with
these opinions we can be happy in advance here below, before enjoying everything
which God has prepared for us; those who are discontent, on the other hand, expose
themselves to losing voluntarily everything that God has tried to give them. It can be
said that this resignation of our will to that of God, whom we have every reason to
trust, follows from the truly divine love, whereas our dissatisfaction and even our
disappointment in mundane matters contain something of hatred toward God, which
is the ultimate of misery. Fifth, we ought to give witness of the supreme love which we
bear toward God through the charity we owe to our neighbor. And we ought to make
every effort imaginable to contribute something to the public good. For it is God who
is the Lord; it is to him that the public good pertains as his own. And all that we do
unto the least of these, his subjects, whom he has the goodness to treat as brothers, we
have done unto him; all the more will he receive as brother whoever contributes to the
general good. Sixth, we must try to perfect ourselves as much as we can, and especially
the mind, which is properly what we call ourself. And since perfection of mind con-
sists in the knowledge of truth and the exercise of virtue, we should be persuaded that
those who in this life have had the best entrance into eternal truths and the most
transparent and clearest knowledge of God's perfection, and as a result have loved
him more and witnessed with more ardor for the general good, will be susceptible
of greater happiness in the life to come. For finally, nothing is neglected in nature;
nothing is lost with God; all our hairs are numbered, and not a glass of water will be
forgotten; qui ad justitiam erudiunt multos /ulgebunt quasi stellae 5; no good action

without reward, no evil one without some punishment; no perfection without a series
of others unto infinity.
Po. Most truly beautiful and generous maxims! I see that they directly combat this
indifference into which I should have plunged without your help .... You have restored
me to life, my dear Theophile, for the sluggish and negligent life which I was about to
lead was worth no more than death. Now my vigor returns; I shall go back to my plans.
I see that virtue and glory are not chimeras. I recognize that the general lament about
the misery of life poisons our satisfaction and strangely deceives us. Instead we must
remember that we are the most perfect and happiest of all known creatures, or at least
that it takes only us to become so. Felices nimium sua qui bona norint. 6 Hereafter let us
no longer complain of nature; let us love this God who has so loved us, and know
once for all that the knowledge of great truths, the exercise of divine love and
charity, the efforts which one can make for the general good - by assuaging the ills of
men, contributing to the happiness of life, advancing the sciences and arts and every-
thing that serves to acquire a true glory and immortalize oneself through good deeds -
all these are pathways to this felicity, which lead us as far as we are capable of going
toward God and which we may take as a kind of apotheosis. 7
REFERENCES
1 Nicolas Steno (1638-87) was a Danish anatomist and physician of distinction who had
abandoned his science upon entering the church in 1667. Leibniz had more regard for his past
science than for his present theology. On his biological achievements see E. Nordenskiold,
The History o/Biology, New York 1928, pp. 155-58. His paleontological studies are reflected
in Leibniz's own studies in the Harz Mountains, reported in the Protogaea.
2 This paragraph and what follows echo the well-known controversy which Richelieu's
Catechism (1637) had aroused. Poliander proposes essentially the view there formulated, which
was attacked by Seguenot and other early Jansenists.
8 On the spirit of the phrase 'ida mode' see Hazard, op. cit., I, 81-82.
4 Leibniz had written 'to judge' but struck it and substituted 'to rule'.
5 "They who lead many into righteousness shall shine forth as stars."
6 "Most blessed they who know their own good."
7 Baruzi comments on the evidences of religious exaltation in the last two speeches, reflected
even in the handwriting of the manuscript itself, which overflows its margins. Of the last page
he says: "The appearance of this page is admirable. Very few periods. The rhythm is visible
even in the writing." The ease with which Leibniz slips into scriptural phrases should refute
the opinion that he was unfamiliar with the Bible.
24
ON THE GENERAL CHARACTERISTIC

Ca. 1679
The year 1679 was one of the most creative in Leibniz's life and the last he was to enjoy
under the patron who had called him to Hanover. In this year the detailed plans for two
projects formulated much earlier were revived, and many studies written in preparation
for their execution. These were the universal encyclopedia and the great apologetic work,
the Catholic Demonstrations (No. 28).
For his encyclopedia as he planned it at this time, Leibniz chose the title Plus ultra (G.,
VII, 49-53), borrowed from Glanvill. Many of the preliminary drafts which Lejbniz made
for this work have been published in G., Volume VII. and in Couto OF. The following
selections (Nos. 24, 25, and 26) are arbitrary but give a conception of his plan and the
state ofhis notions in logic. They may be regarded as belonging to the introductory section
of the work, to be called 'Initia et specimina scientiae generalis', Nos. 24 and 25 belong-
ing to the 'Initia' and Nos. 26 and 27 to the 'Specimina'.l The long lists of definitions on
which Leibniz worked intermittently over a long period of time are not represented.
The following two selections are obviously closely related, the first discussing the origins
and values of the general characteristic; the second, the general logical principles to be
assumed as axiomatic in it.
[G., VII, 184-89]

There is an old saying that God created everything according to weight, measure, and
number. But there are things which cannot be weighed, those namely which have no
force or power. There are also things which have no parts and hence admit of no meas-
ure. But there is nothing which is not subordinate to number. Number is thus a basic
metaphysical figure, as it were, and arithmetic is a kind of statics of the universe by
which the powers of things are discovered.
Men have been convinced ever since Pythagoras that the deepest mysteries lie
concealed in numbers. It is possible that Pythagoras brought over this opinion, like
many others, from the Orient to Greece. But, because the true key to the mystery was
unknown, more inquisitive minds fell into futilities and superstitions, from which there
finally arose a kind of popular Cabbala, far removed from the true one, and that
multitude of follies which is falsely called a kind of magic and with which books have
been filled. Meanwhile there remained deep-rooted in men the propensity to believe
that marvels can be discovered by means of numbers, characters, and a certain new
language, which some called the Adamic language; Jacob B6hme called it the Natur-
sprache.
But perhaps no mortal has yet seen into the true basis upon which everything can be
assigned its characteristic number. For the most scholarly men have admitted that
they did not understand what I said when I incidentally mentioned something of the

sort to them. z And although learned men have long since thought of some kind of
language or universal characteristic by which all concepts and things can be put into
beautiful order, and with whose help different nations might communicate their
thoughts and each read in his own language what another has written in his 3, yet no
one has attempted a language or characteristic which includes at once both the arts of
discovery and of judgment, that is, one whose signs or characters serve the same pur-
pose that arithmetical signs serve for numbers, and algebraic signs for quantities taken
abstractly. Yet it does seem that since God has bestowed these two sciences on man-
kind, he has sought to notify us that a far greater secret lies hidden in our understand-
ing, of which these are but the shadows.
Some unknown fate has brought it about, however, that when I was a mere boy I
became involved in these considerations, and as first inclinations usually do, they have
remained strongly fixed in my mind ever since. Two things which are otherwise of
doubtful merit and are harmful to many people, proved wonderfully useful to me:
first, I was self-taught, and second, I looked for something new in every science when
I first studied it, often before I even understood its already established content. But so
I gained a double reward: first, I did not fill my head with empty and cumbersome
teachings accepted on the authority of the teacher instead of sound arguments;
second, I did not rest until I had traced back the tissues and roots of every teaching and
had penetrated to its principles. By such training I was enabled to discover by my own
effort everything with which I was concerned.
When I turned, therefore, from the reading of history, which had delighted me from
my earliest youth, and from the cultivation of style, which I carried out with such ease
both in prose and in more restricted forms that my teachers feared that I might remain
stuck in such frivolities, and took up logic and philosophy and had barely begun to
understand something about these fields, what a multitude of fancies came to birth in
my brain and were scratched down on paper to be laid before my astonished teachers.
Among other things I once raised a doubt concerning the categories. I said that just
as we have categories or classes of simple concepts, we ought also to have a new
class of categories in which propositions or complex terms themselves 4 may be
arranged in their natural order. For I had not even dreamed of demonstrations at that
time and did not know that the geometricians do exactly what I was seeking when they
arrange propositions in an order such that one is demonstrated from the other. My
question was thus superfluous, but when my teachers failed to answer it, I pursued
these ideas for the sake of their novelty, attempting to establish such categories for
complex terms or propositions. Upon making the effort to study this more intently, I
necessarily arrived at this remarkable thought, namely that a kind of alphabet of
human thoughts can be worked out and that everything can be discovered and
judged by it comparison of the letters of this alphabet and an analysis of the words
made from them. This discovery gave me great joy though it was childish of course,
for I had not grasped the true importance of the matter. But later, the more progress
I made in my thinking about these things, the more confirmed I was in my decision to
carry the problem further. It happened that as a young man of twenty I had to prepare
an academic treatise. So I wrote a Dissertation on the Art 0/ Combinations, which was
published in book form in 1666, and in which I laid my remarkable discovery before
the public. This dissertation was in fact such as might be written by a youth just out
of the schools who was not yet conversant with the real sciences. For mathematics was
not cultivated in those parts; if I had spent my childhood in Paris, as did Pascal, I
might have advanced these sciences earlier. There are two reasons, however, why I do
not regret having written this dissertation; first, it pleased many very gifted men
greatly; and second, in this dissertation I already then served notice to the public of
my invention, so that it will not look as ifI had thought ofit only recently.
Why, within the memory of mankind as preserved by records, no mortal has ever
essayed so great a thing - this has often been an object of wonder to me. For to anyone
who proceeds according to an order in thinking, these considerations should have
occurred from the very first, just as they occurred to me as a boy interested in logic,
before I had even touched on ethics, mathematics, or physics, solely because I aJways
looked for first principles. The true reason for this straying from the portal of know-
ledge is, I believe, that principles usually seem dry and not very attractive and are
therefore dismissed with a mere taste. Yet I am most surprised at the failure of three
men to undertake so important a thing - Aristotle, Joachim Jung, and Rene Descartes.
For when Aristotle wrote the Organon and the Metaphysics he laid open the inner
nature of concepts with great skill. Joachim Jung of Lubeck is a man not well known
even in Germany but of such rare judgment and breadth of mind that I cannot think of
anyone, not even excepting Descartes himself, from whom a great revival of science
might better have been expected, if only he had been known and supported. 5 He was
already an old man, however, when Descartes began his activity, and it is regrettable
that these men could not have known each other. As for Descartes, this is of course not
the place to praise a man the magnitude of whose genius is elevated almost above all
praise. He certainly began the true and right way through the ideas, and that which
leads so far; but since he had aimed at his own excessive applause, he seems to have
broken off the thread of his investigation and to have been content with metaphysical
meditations and geometrical studies by which he could draw attention to himself.
For the rest, he set out to discover the nature of bodies for the purposes of medicine,
rightly indeed, if he had completed the task of ordering the ideas of the mind, for a
greater light than can well be imagined would have arisen from these very experiments.
His failure to apply his mind to this problem can be explained by no other cause than
that he did not adequately think through the full reason and force of the thing. For
had he seen a method of setting up a reasonable philosophy with the same unanswer-
able clarity as arithmetic, he would hardly have used any way other than this to
establish a sect of followers, a thing which he so earnestly wanted. For by applying this
method of philosophizing, a school would from its very beginning, and by the very
nature of things, assert its supremacy in the realm of reason in a geometrical manner
and could never perish nor be shaken until the sciences themselves die through the
rise of a new barbarism among mankind.
As for me, I kept at this line of thought, in spite of the distraction of so many other
fields, for no other reason than that I saw its entire magnitude and detected a remark-
ably easy way of following it through. For this is what I finally discovered after most
intent thought. Nothing more is necessary to establish the characteristic which I am
attempting, at least to a point sufficient to build the grammar of this wonderful
language and a dictionary for the most frequent cases, or what amounts to the same
thing, nothing more is necessary to set up the characteristic numbers for all ideas than
to develop a philosophical and mathematical 'course of studies', as it is called, based
on a certain new method which I can set forth, and containing nothing more difficult

than other courses of study, or more remote from use and understanding, or more
alien to the usual way of writing. Nor would it require more work than is already being
spent on a number of courses, or encyclopedias, as they are called. I think that a few
selected men could finish the matter in five years. It would take them only two, how-
ever, to work out by an infallible calculus the doctrines most useful for life, that is,
those of morality and metaphysics. 6
Once the characteristic numbers for most concepts have been set up, however, the
human race will have a new kind of instrument which will increase the power of the
mind much more than optical lenses strengthen the eyes and which will be as far
superior to microscopes or telescopes as reason is superior to sight. The magnetic
needle has brought no more help to sailors than this lodestar will bring to those who
navigate the sea of experiments. What other consequences will eventually follow from
it must be left to the decree of the fates; however, they cannot be the great and good.
For men can be debased by all other gifts; only right reason can be nothing but whole-
some. But reason will be right beyond all doubt only when it is everywhere as clear and
certain as only arithmetic has been until now. Then there will be an end to that
burdensome raising of objections by which one person now usually plagues another
and which turns so many away from the desire to reason. When one person argues,
namely, his opponent, instead of examining his argument, answers generally, thus,
'How do you know that your reason is any truer than mine? What criterion of truth
have you?' And if the first person persists in his argument, his hearers lack the pa-
tience to examine it. For usually many other problems have to be investigated first,
and this would be the work of several weeks, following the laws of thought accepted
until now. And so after much agitation, the emotions usually win out instead of
reason, and we end the controversy by cutting the Gordian knot rather than untying it.
This happens especially in deliberations pertaining to life, where a decision must be
made; here it is given to few people to weigh the factors of expediency and inexpe-
diency, which are often numerous on both sides, as in a balance. The more strongly we
are able to present to ourselves, now one circumstance and now another, in order to
balance the varying inclinations of our own minds, and the more eloquently and effect-
ively we can adorn and point them out for others, the more firmly we shall act and
carry the minds of other men with us, especially if we make wise use of their emotions.
There is hardly anyone who could work out the entire table of pros and cons in any
deliberation, that is, who could not only enumerate the expedient and inexpedient
aspects but also weigh them rightly. Thus two disputants seem to me almost like two
merchants who are in debt to each other for various items, but who are never willing
to strike a balance; instead, each one advances his own various claims against the
other, exaggerating the truth and magnitude of certain particular items. Their quarrel
will never end on this basis. And we need not be surprised that this is what has happened
until now in most controversies in which the matter is not clear, that is, is not reduced
to numbers.
Now, however, our characteristic will reduce the whole to numbers, so that reasons
can also be weighed, as if by a kind of statics. For probabilities, too, will be treated in
this calculation and demonstration, since one can always estimate which of the given
circumstances will more probably occur. Finally, anyone who is certainly convinced of
the truth of religion and its consequences, and so embraces others in love that he
desires the conversion of mankind, will surely admit, if he understands these matters,
that nothing will be more influential than this discovery for the propagation of the
faith, unless it be miracles, the holiness of an apostle, or the victories of a great mon-
arch. Where this language can once be introduced by missionaries, the true religion,
which is in complete agreement with reason, will be established, and apostasy will no
more be feared in the future than would an apostasy of men from the arithmetic or
geometry which they have once learned. So I repeat what I have often said: that no
man who is not a prophet or a prince can ever undertake anything of greater good to
mankind or more fitting for the divine glory.
But we must go further than words! Since the admirable connection of things makes
it most difficult to give the characteristic numbers of a few things separated from
others, I have thought of an elegant device, if I am not mistaken, by which to show that
ratiocination can be proved through numbers. Thus I imagine that these most re-
markable characteristic numbers are already given, and, having observed a certain
general property to be true of them, I set up such numbers as are somehow consistent
with tIns property, and applying these, I at once demonstrate through numbers, in
wonderful order, all the rules of logic and show how we can know whether certain
arguments are in good form. 7 But the material soundness or truth of an argument can
be judged without much mental effort and danger of error only when we have the
true characteristic numbers of things themselves.
II
[G., VII, 299-301]
When I observed that almost all who think about principles follow the example of
others rather than the nature of things, and even their prejudices when this is of great
advantage, I concluded that it is not enough to avoid this error but that I should
undertake some higher order with respect to my own opinions.
One cannot go to infinity in his proofs, however, and therefore some things must be
assumed without proof - not silently and by stealth, indeed, dissimulating our
own laziness as philosophers customarily do, but keeping clearly in mind what we
have used as first assertions, after the example of geometricians who, to show their
good faith, acknowledge at the very start the assumed axioms they are to use, so that
they may be sure that all the conclusions are proved at least hypothetically from these
assumptions.
First of all, I assume that every judgment (i.e., affirmation or negation) is either
true or false and that if the affirmation is true the negation is false, and if the negation
is true the affirmation is false; that what is denied to be true - truly, of course - is
false, and what is denied to be false is true; that what is denied to be affirmed, or
affirmed to be denied, is to be denied; and what is affirmed to be affirmed and denied
to be denied is to be affirmed. Similarly, that it is false that what is false should be true
or that what is true should be false; that it is true that what is true is true, and what is
false, false. All these are usually included in one designation, the principle of contra-
diction.
Now we must see what can truly be affirmed and denied, so that its contradiction
may also be known to be false. The first of the true propositions are those which are
commonly called identical; such as A is A, non-A is non-A, and if the proposition L
is true, it folIows that the proposition L is true. And however much useless 'coccysm'S

there seems to be in these judgments, they nevertheless give rise to useful axioms by a
slight change. Thus from the fact that A is A, or for example, that three-legged is
three-legged, it is obvious that anything is as much as it is or is equal to itself. Hence
(to show how useful identities are by an example) philosophers have long ago demon-
strated that a part is less than the whole by assuming only this definition; that is less
which is equal to a part of another (the greater). The demonstration is as follows.
A part is equal to a part of the whole (namely, to itself), by the axiom of identities.
What is equal to a part of the whole is less than the whole, by the definition of less.
Therefore a part is less than the whole, Q.E.D. Subalternation, or the derivation of a
particular from a universal, may be proved similarly. All A is B; therefore some A is B
using a syllogism of the first figure. The derivation is as follows.
All A is B, by hypothesis.
Some A is A, by identity.
Therefore some A is B.
I offer these examples, though they do not belong here, to show that identities do in-
deed have a use and that no truth, however slight it may seem, is completely barren;
on the contrary, it will soon be apparent that these identities contain the foundations of
the rest. 9
Just as identical propositions are the primary propositions of all, and are incapable
of proof and thus true per se, for of course nothing can be found to serve as a middle
term to connect something with itself, so as a result, truths are virtually identical
which can be reduced to formal or explicit identities through an analysis of their terms,
if we substitute for the original term either an equivalent concept or a concept included
in it. It is obvious that all necessary propositions, or propositions which have eternal
truth, are virtual identities and can be demonstrated or reduced to primary truths by
ideas or definitions alone, that is, by the analysis of terms, so that it is made clear that
their opposite implies a contradiction and conflicts with some identity or primary
truth. Hence the Scholastics also observed that truths which are absolute or have meta-
physical necessity can be proved by their terms alone, since the opposite involves a
contradiction.
In general, every true proposition which is not identical or true in itself can be pro-
ved a priori with the help of axioms or propositions that are true in themselves and
with the help of definitions or ideas. For no matter how often a predicate is truly
affirmed of a subject, there must be some real connection between subject and predi-
cate, such that in every proposition whatever, such as A is B (or B is truly predicated of
A), it is true that B is contained in A, or its concept is in some way contained in the
concept of A itself. And this must be either by absolute necessity, in propositions which
contain eternal truth; or by a kind of certainty which depends upon the supposed
decree of a free substance in contingent matters, a decree, however, which is never
entirely arbitrary and free from foundation, but for which some reason can always be
given. This reason, however, merely inclines and does not truly necessitate. 10 Such
truth could itself be deduced from the analysis of concepts, if this were always within
human power, and will certainly not escape the analysis of an omniscient substance
who sees everything a priori from ideas themselves and from his decrees. It is certain,
therefore, that all truths, even highly contingent ones, have a proof a priori or some
reason why they are rather than are not. And this is what is commonly asserted: that
nothing happens without a cause, or these is nothing without a reason. Yet however
strong this reason may be - though whatever kind it is, it is enough to effect a greater
inclination in one direction or the other - even if it establishes certainty in a predicting
being, it does not place necessity in the thing itself, because its contrary would still
remain possible per se and implies no contradiction. Otherwise what we call contin-
gent would rather be necessary or of eternal truth.ii
This axiom, however, that there is nothing without a reason, must be considered one
of the greatest and most fruitful of all human knowledge, for upon it is built a great
part of metaphysics, physics, and moral science; without it, indeed, the existence of
God cannot be proved from his creatures, nor can an argument be carried fom
causes to effects or from effects to causes, nor any conclusions be drawn in civil
matters. So true is this that whatever is not of mathematical necessity, as for instance
are logical forms and numerical truths, must be sought here entirely. For example,
Archimedes, or whoever is the author of the book on equilibrium, assumes that two
equal weights placed in a balance in the same relation to its center or axis will be in
equilibrium. This is merely a corollary of our axiom, for since everything is assumed
to be related in the same way on each side, there is no reason why the balance should
tip to one side rather than the other. 12 But with this assumption Archimedes in turn
proves other mathematical matters by necessity.
REFERENCES
i See Couto L., pp. 134--40.

2 Neither Oldenburg nor Tschirnhaus fully grasped Leibniz's descriptions in his letters. Huy-
gens failed to take seriously both his universal characteristic and his new geometry of situation.
Not until the late nineteenth century was the significance of Leibniz's efforts understood.
3 See Couto L., chap. III. The allusion is probably to Dalgamo and John Wilkins, in whose
proposals for a universal language Leibniz early became interested (cf. New Essays, III, ii, l).
4 Note that Leibniz has here resolved the distinction between terms and propositions. Thus
"man is a reasonable immortal animal", to use the example in No. 25, may be treated concep-
tually or as a structure of propositions inherent in the definition; in either case the expression
is x = abc, which implies such propositions as all men are rational, immortal, animal, and also
some animals are immortal, rational, men, etc.
o See p. 130, note 4. Leibniz highly esteemed Jung's discovery and analysis of nonsyllogistic
forms of inference (cf. New Essays, IV, xvii, 4).
6 One of the delusions under which Leibniz continued to labor much of his life was the
simplicity of this project; this was the result of his conviction that the simple concepts are
independent of each other and relatively few in number.
7 See Nos. 26 and 40 for examples of the logical calculus, which Leibniz thus considers as the
formal development of his general characteristic and upon which he depends to prove his case.
But compare the statement to Tschimhaus (No. 19 and p. 195, note 3).
8 'Coccysm' was proverbial for wordiness or redundancy, from the reputation of John
Cocceius, professor of theology at Leyden, and his followers.
9 In what follows Leibniz makes an early attempt to show that identity, contradiction, and
sufficient reason, and the operations with them, apply to judgments of existence as well as to
truths of reason. In general, his view is that these principles have particularized application
to contingent truths, though the complete analysis lies beyond us. But he fails to show why the
application of the subject-predicate proposition to created substances allows for freedom; the
several parts of his explanation do not cohere, especially since the factor of incompleteness in
contingent truths is placed in the predicting agent and his limitations rather than in the nature
of the substance to be known.
10 For the reason that causes which we may discover for existing events are only partially
determinant; complete causality would involve the infinite analysis of which we are incapable.
Yet the individual substance seems to be itself completely determined.
11 AIl propositions are thus analytic, though all factual judgments whose subjects are not
substances but mere partial concepts are only virtually so. See No. 26 for the sense in which
Leibniz regards particular judgments as analytic.
12 The general principle of equipollence or equivalence (cf. p.205, note 3) is thus derivable
from the principle of sufficient reason.
25
ON UNIVERSAL SYNTHESIS AND ANALYSIS, OR THE

ART OF DISCOVERY AND JUDGMENT
1679(?)
Couturat has established the probability that this important paper on method, whose date is
uncertain, belongs to the logical writings of 1679 or the years following and is "the
sketch ofa chapter of the Plus ultra ".1
[G., VII, 292-98]
As a boy I learned logic, and having already developed the habit of digging more
deeply into the reasons for what I was taught, I raised the following question with my
teachers. Seeing that there are categories for the simple terms by which concepts are
ordered, why should there not also be categories for complex terms, by which truths
may be ordered? I was then unaware that geometricians do this very thing when they
demonstrate and order propositions according to their dependence upon each other.
It seemed to me, however, that this could be achieved universally if we first had the
true categories for simple terms and if, to obtain these, we set up something new in
the nature of an alphabet of thoughts, or a catalogue of the highest genera or of
those we assume to be highest, such as a, b, c, d, e,/, out of whose combination inferior
concepts may be formed. For we must note that genera may serve as differentiae to
each other, so that every difference can be conceived of as a genus, and every genus as
a difference. It is as right to say 'rational animal' as 'animal rational being', if such a
concept can be formed. 2 But since our common genera do not reveal the species in
their combination, I concluded that they were not correctly formed and that the genera
next below the highest should be binions, such as ab, ac, bd, cf; the genera on the third
level would be ternions, such as abc, bd/, and so on. But if the highest genera, or those
assumed to be highest, should happen to be infinite, as is the case with numbers, we
should only have to establish the order of these highest genera, and some order would
then become apparent in the lower genera. For in the case of numbers, the prime
numbers can be taken as the highest genera, since all even numbers can be called
binaries, all divisible by three, ternaries, and so forth. Then every derivative number
can be expressed through prime ones as genera. Thus every multiple of six [senary] is
a binary ternary. So if some particular species is proposed, the propositions which are
demonstrable about it could be enumerated in order, or all its predicates could be
listed, whether broader than it or convertible with it, and the more meaningful could
then be selected from these. Thus assume that there is a species y, whose concept is
abed; and for ab substitute I; for ac, m; for ad, n; for be, p; for bd, q; for cd, r, which
are binions. Then come ternions; for abc substitute s; for abd, v; for Qed, w; for bcd, x.
These would all be predicates of y, but only the following would be convertible with
y: ax, bw, CV, ds, Ir, mq, np. I have said more about this in my little treatise on the

Art of Combinations, which I brought out soon after my adolescence, before the long-
promised work of the same title by Kircher had appeared. I hoped to find similar
matters discussed in it, but when it did appear later, I found that it had merely revived
the LuIIian art or something similar to it but that the author had not even dreamed of
the true analysis of human thoughts any more than had the others who have tried to
reform philosophy. 3
The primary concepts from whose combination the rest are made are either distinct
or confused. Those are distinct which are understood through themselves, such as
'being'. Those are confused though clear, which are perceived through themselves,
such as color, because we can only explain them to someone else by showing them to
him. For though the nature of color is analyzable since it has a cause, we cannot
sufficiently describe or recognize it by any concepts that are separately explained; it is
known only confusedly and hence cannot be given a nominal definition. A nominal
definition consists in the enumeration of signs or elements sufficient to distinguish the
thing defined from everything else. If we proceed to seek the elements of the elements,
we shall come at last to primitive concepts which have no elements at all, or none
which we can explain to a sufficient degree. This is the art of dealing with distinct
concepts. The art of dealing with confused concepts, however, must discover the
distinct concepts which accompany the confused ones, whether these distinct concepts
can be understood through themselves or can at least be resolved into such as are
understood, for with their help we can sometimes arrive at some cause or resolution
of the confused notion.
All derivative concepts, moreover, arise from a combination of primitive ones, and
the more composite concepts from the combination of less composite ones. But one
must take care that the combinations do not become useless through the joining-
together of incompatible concepts. This can be avoided only by experience or by
resolving them into distinct single concepts. One must be especially careful, in setting
up real definitions, to establish their possibility, that is, to show that the concepts from
which they are formed are compatible with each other. So while every reciprocal
property of a thing can serve as its nominal definition, since all the other attributes of
the thing can always be demonstrated from it, not every such property suffices for a
real definition. For as I have pointed out, there are certain properties which I call
paradoxical, whose possibility can be doubted. For example, it can be doubted whether
there is a curve for which it is true that given any segment and any point on the
curve, the lines connecting this point with the ends of the segment will always form
the same angle. For assuming that we have so adjusted the points of the curve to
one segment, we still cannot foresee that what may seem to have succeeded by chance
in one case will succeed in others, namely that the same points on the curve will
satisfy this condition with respect to another segment as well, since all of the points are
now determined and no further ones can be assumed. Yet we know that this is the
nature of a circle. 4 So, although someone might give a name to the curve having this
property, it would not yet be certain that such a curve is possible, and hence that its
definition is real. But the concept of the circle set up by Euclid, that of a figure described
by the motion of a straight line in a plane about a fixed end, affords a real definition,
for such a figure is evidently possible. Hence it is useful to have definitions involving
the generation of a thing, or if this is impossible, at least its constitution, that is, a
method by which the thing appears to be producible or at least possible. I have already
used this observation in the past to examine the imperfect demonstration which
Descartes proposed of the existence of God, about which I have often argued in
writing with the most learned Cartesians. Descartes argues as follows. Whatever can
be demonstrated from the definition of a thing can be predicated of that thing. Now
from the definition of God - that he is the most perfect being, or as certain Scholastics
said, a being than whom no greater can be thought - there follows his existence, for
existence is a perfection, and whatever possesses existence will therefore be greater or
more perfect than it would be without it. Therefore existence can be predicated of God,
or God exists. This argument, revived by Descartes, was defended by one of the old
Scholastics in a special book called Contra insipientem. 5 But following some others,
Thomas replied to it that this presupposes that God is, or as I interpret this, that he
has an essence, at least in the sense that the rose has an essence in winter, or that such
a concept is possible. This therefore is the privilege of the most perfect being, that,
given its possibility, it at once exists or that its existence follows from its essence or its
possible concept. But to make this demonstration rigorous, the possibility must first
be proved. Obviously we cannot build a secure demonstration on any concept unless
we know that this concept is possible, for from impossibles or concepts involving
contradictions contradictory propositions can be demonstrated. This is an a priori
reason why possibility is a requisite in a real definition. A difficulty raised by Hobbes
can also be answered on this basis. For Hobbes saw that all truths can be demonstrated
from definitions but held that all definitions are arbitrary and nominal, since we
impose arbitrary names upon things. He therefore concluded that truths also consist
merely in names and are arbitrary.6 But we must recognize that if we are to have a real
definition, we cannot combine notions arbitrarily, but the concept we form out of
them must be possible. Hence every real definition must contain at least the affirmation
of some possibility. Furthermore, although names are arbitrary, once they are adopt-
ed, their consequences are necessary, and certain truths arise which are real even
though they depend on the characters which have been imposed. For example, the
rule of nines depends on characters imposed by the decimal system, yet it contains
real truth. Moreover, to set up a hypothesis or to explain the method of production is
merely to demonstrate the possibility of a thing, and this is useful even though the
thing in question often has not been generated in that way. Thus the same ellipse can
be thought of either as described in a plane with the aid of two foci and the motion of
a thread about them or as a conic or a cylindrical section. Once a hypothesis or a
manner of generation is found, one has a real definition from which others can also be
derived, and from them those can be selected which best satisfy the other conditions,
when a method of actually producing the thing is sought. Those real definitions are
most perfect, furthermore, which are common to all the hypotheses or methods of
generation and which involve the proximate cause of a thing, and from which the
possibility of the thing is immediately apparent without presupposing any experiment
or the demonstration of any further possibilities. In other words, those real definitions
are most perfect which resolve the thing into simple primitive notions understood in
themselves. Such knowledge I usually call adequate or intuitive, for, if there were any
inconsistency, it would appear here at once, since no further resolution can take place. 7
From such ideas or definitions, then, there can be demonstrated all truths with the
exception of identical propositions, which by their very nature are evidently indemon-
strable and can truly be called axioms. What are popularly called axioms, however.
Po r references see p. 233

can be reduced to identities by analyzing either the subject or the predicate or both,
and so demonstrated; for by assuming the contrary, we can show that the same thing
would at the same time be and not be. Hence it is evident that in the last analysis the
direct and indirect methods of demonstration coincide and that the Scholastics were
right in observing that every axiom, once its terms are understood, may be reduced to
the principle of contradiction. Thus any truth whatever can be justified, for the connec-
tion of the predicate with the subject is either evident in itself as in identities, or can be
explained by an analysis of the terms. This is the only, and the highest, criterion of
truth in abstract things, that is, things which do not depend on experience - that it
must either be an identity or be reducible to identities.
From this can be derived the elements of eternal truth in all things insofar as we
understand them, as well as a method for proceeding demonstratively, as in geometry.
In this way God understands everything a priori and through eternal truth, since he
does not need experience and knows all things adequately, whereas we know hardly
anything adequately, few things a priori, and most things through experience. In this
last case other principles and other criteria must be applied. In factual or contingent
matters, therefore, which do not depend on reason but on observation and experiment,
primary truths (for us) are those that are perceived immediately within us or those of
which we are conscious within ourselves. For it is impossible to prove these to our-
selves through other experiences nearer or more intrinsic to us. But within myself I
perceive not only myself who thinks but also many differences in my thoughts, from
which I conclude that there are other things outside of me and gradually gain faith in
my senses in opposition to the skeptics. For in matters which do not possess meta-
physical necessity, we must regard the agreement of phenomena as truth, since such
agreement does not occur by chance but has a cause. 8 Certainly it is only through this
agreement among phenomena that we distinguish dreams from waking, and we predict
that the sun will rise tomorrow only because it has fulfilled our faith so often. To this
is added the great power of authority and of public testimony, since it is not likely that
so many should conspire to deceive us. To these factors can be added what Saint
Augustine has said on the utility of faith.9 The authority of the senses and of other
witnesses once established, we may prepare a record of phenomena from which a
mixed knowledge can be formed by combining with them truths abstracted from
experience. But we need a particular art for arranging as well as for ordering and
combining our experiments, so that useful inductions can be made from them, causes
discovered, and general truths and postulates [aphorismi et praenotiones] set up. The
carelessness of men is amazing, wasting their time in trifles and neglecting the matters
by which they could take care of health and well-being. For perhaps they would have
within their power the remedies for a great part of their ills if only they would make
right use of the great wealth of observations already available to our century and of
the true analysis. Our human knowledge of nature seems to me at present like a shop
well provided with all kinds of wares but without any order or inventory.
The distinction between synthesis and analysis also becomes apparent from these
considerations. Synthesis is achieved when we begin from principles and run through
truths in good order, thus discovering certain progressions and setting up tables, or
sometimes general formulas, in which the answers to emerging questions can later be
discovered. Analysis goes back to the principles in order to solve the given problems
only, just as if neither we nor others had discovered anything before. 10 It is more im-
portant to establish syntheses, because this work is of permanent value, while we often
do work that has already been done in beginning the analysis of a particular problem.
But it is a lesser art to use syntheses already set up by others and theorems already dis-
covered, than to achieve everything through one's own work, by carrying out analyses,
especially since we do not always remember or have at hand the truths which we our-
selves or others have already discovered. Analysis is of two kinds. The common type
advances by leaps and is used in algebra. The other is special and far more elegant but
less well known; I call it 'reductive' analysis.u Analysis is more necessary in practice,
in order to solve problems that are given to us. But whoever is capable of more theore-
tical pursuits will be content to practice analysis only far enough to master the art but
will then prefer to synthesize and will willingly tackle only such questions to which he
is led by the order of research itself. In this way he will always progress pleasantly
and easily and will not feel any difficulties or be disappointed in the outcome, for in a
short time he will achieve much more than he could ever have hoped at the start. But
ordinarily people destroy the fruits of their thinking through undue haste and attack
too difficult problems at a leap, thus achieving nothing despite great effort. It must be
realized that our method of inquiry is at last perfected when we can foresee whether it
will lead us to a solution. Those who think that the analytic presentation consists in
revealing the origin of a discovery, the synthetic in keeping it concealed, are in error.12
I have often observed that of the great geniuses of discovery, some are more inclined to
analysis, others to the art of combinations. Combination or synthesis is the better
means for discovering the use or application of something, as for example, given the
magnetic needle, to think of its application in the compass. Analysis, on the contrary,
is best suited for discovering the means when the thing to be discovered or the pro-
posed end is given. Analysis is rarely pure, however, for usually, when we search for
the means, we come upon contrivances which have already been discovered by others
or by ourselves either accidentally or by reason, and which we find stored up as in a
table or inventory, either in our own memory or in the accounts of others, and which
we now apply for our purpose. But this is synthesis. For the rest, the art of combina-
tions in particular, as I take it (it can also be called a general characteristic or algebra),
is that science in which are treated the forms or formulas of things in general, that is,
quality in general or similarity and dissimilarity; in the same way that ever new for-
mulas arise from the elements a, b, c themselves when combined with each other,
whether these elements represent quantities or something else. This art is distinct from
common algebra, which deals with formulas applied to quantity only or to equality
and inequality. This algebra is thus subordinate to the art of combinations and con-
stantly uses its rules. But these rules of combination are far more general and find
application not only in algebra but in the art of deciphering, in various games, in
geometry itself when it is treated linearly in the manner of the ancients 13 , and finally,
in all matters involving relations of similarity.
REFERENCES
1 Couto L., p. 189, n.l; p. 323 n. See also the introduction to No. 24, above.
2 See p. 227, note 4. This is in effect a criticism of Aristotle's theory of the definition and of the
hierarchical implications of a subject-predicate viewpoint. If carried through, this change
would have led to a purely relational logic. The unsolved problem in Leibniz's logic is thus the
reduction of complex terms, or relational propositions, which apply to existence, to proposi-

tions whose predicates are all included in their substantial subjects.
3 Athanasius Kircher's Ars magna sciendi sive combinatoria appeared in Amsterdam in 1669,
3 years after Leibniz's De arte combinatoria.
4 Euclid's Elements, Book iii, Prop. 20.
5 Leibniz has in mind Anselm's Liber apologeticus adversus respondentem pro insipiente, a
reply to Gaunilo's attack on the argument of the Proslogium in the Liber pro insipiente adversus
Anselmi in proslogio ratiocinationem.
6 See above, p. 185, note 3.
7 Cf. New Essays, IV, ii, 1: "In this way all adequate definitions contain primitive truths of
reason and consequently intuitive knowledge. It can be said in general that all primitive
truths of reason are immediate with respect to an immediateness of ideas." In No. 33, where
the kinds of knowledge and definition here described are discussed in more detail, Leibniz
suggests that though we cannot give good examples of adequate intuitive knowledge on the
part of man, there is a kind of adequate knowledge in which we use symbols to retain the
primitive elements which we cannot retain in an intuited whole.
S For a further development of this criterion of the truth of contingent propositions see No. 39.
9 De utilitate credendi ad Honoratum. Like Hume, Leibniz recognizes psychological grounds
for empirical judgments. But unlike him, he holds that logical analysis and synthesis, aided
by real definitions, reveal an inhering but abstractly necessary order within these judgments,
so that scientific analysis proceeds from observations to causal judgments and functional
laws.
10 Thus both analysis and synthesis rest upon a demonstrative structure of truth and upon an
analytic theory of meaning; the direction is determined by whether the unknown is the rela-
tively simple or the relatively complex. It is noteworthy that Leibniz subordinates both per-
ceptual data and hypotheses to his analytic conception of truth. Synthesis proceeds from the
simple, whether abstract or concrete, to the more complete, from a plurality of predicates to the
determined subject which is equivalent to them; analysis in the opposite direction. Leibniz
would recognize no induction by simple enumeration but would insist that scientific generali-
zation involves intensional meanings and that abstract analysis of observations must precede
synthesis. Cf. Introduction, Sec. IV.
11 Cf. Couto OF., p. 351: "Analysis is through a leap, when we begin to solve the problem
itself, with no other assumptions; ... analysis is by degrees when we reduce the proposed
problem to an easier one, and this to an easier still, etc., until we arrive at one which is with-
in our power." See also ibid., p. 558, where the latter method is called 'anagogic analysis'.
Leibniz's own examples include the reduction of quartics to quadratics and the analysis of
higher curves by decomposition into simpler ones.
12 Descartes, Responsio ad secundas objectiones (Adam and Tannery, VII, 155-56).
13 See No. 27.
26
TWO STUDIES IN THE LOGICAL CALCULUS

1679
In 1679 Leibniz thought of the logical calculus as an application of the more general
science of characters to the problems of formal logic. Such an application would, he was
convinced, put logic on a more universal basis and serve to convince men of the value of
applying symbols to material truth as well. Of the two studies given here, the first was
written in April, and the second probably later in the same year. In the former, the
Elements of Calculus, he attempted to use numerical symbols, as he had suggested in
Nos. 24 and 25, and to restrict logical operations to mUltiplication and division. His ana-
lysis was extended, in other studies dated in April, to the proof of the rules of immediate
inference and the syllogism. In the second paper he abandoned numerical symbols and
used letters, addition. and the simple relation esse. This approach was carried further in
the later studies of the 1690's (No. 40).1 Significant in the second selection is the be-
ginning of an attempt to interpret the predicables in terms of his calculus.
I. ELEMENTS OF CALCULUS
[Cout. OF., pp. 49-57]
1. A term is the subject or predicate of a categorical proposition. Thus I include
neither the sign 2 not the copula among the terms. So when it is said, 'The wise man
believes', the term is not believes, but a believer,just as ifI say, 'The wise man is a be-
liever'.
2. In what follows, I understand propositions to be categorical when I do not
specifically indicate otherwise. But the categorical proposition is the basis of the rest,
and all modal, hypothetical, disjunctive, and other propositions presuppose the cate-
gorical. I call A is B categorical, or A is not B, or it is false that A is B. When a varia-
tion in sign is added, the proposition is either universal and understood to apply to all
of the subject or particular, applying to some.
3. To every term whatever may be assigned its characteristic number, which we may
use in calculating, as we use the term itself in reasoning. I choose numbers in writing;
in time I shall adapt other signs both to numbers and to speech itself. For the present
numbers are the most useful because of their accuracy and the ease with which they
are handled and because it is thus clear to the eye that all of the relations of concepts
are certain and determined after the likeness of numbers.
4. The rule for discovering fitting characteristic numbers is this one only: when the
concept of a given term is composed directly [in casu recto] 3 out of the concepts of two
or more other terms, then the characteristic number of the given term is to be produced
by multiplying the characteristic numbers of the terms composing it. For example,
since man is a rational animal, if the number of animal is a, for instance, 2 and the
number of rational is r, for instance 3, the number of man, or h, will be 2 x 3 or 6. 4

5. We shall introduce letters (such as a, r, and h here) when the numbers are not
given or at least need not be considered specifically but are dealt with in general, as it is
proper for us to do here in dealing with the elements. Like the practice in symbolic
algebra or the arithmetic of figures, this is a way of avoiding the effort to try to do for
each individual case what can be shown at one and the same time for an infinite
number of instances. I shall explain the manner of using these letters below.
6. The rule given in Article 4 suffices to include everything in the whole world in
our calculus, insofar as we have distinct notions of it, that is, insofar as we know
certain of its constituents and can distinguish them from all others after examining
them by their parts; in other words, insofar as we can assign a definition to them. For
these constituents are nothing but the terms whose concepts compose the concept
which we have of the thing. Moreover we can distinguish most things from others by
their constituents, and if it is hard to decide which are requisite or prior to which,
we can assign them some prime number temporarily and use it to designate other
things by means of them. In this way we could at least discover all propositions by a
calculation and show which ones can at least be demonstrated analytically when taken
as primary for the time being, without actually being so. Thus Euclid nowhere uses the
definition of a straight line in his demonstrations but presents something taken as
axiomatic in place of it. 5 But when Archimedes tried to go further, he was compelled to
analyze the straight line and to define it as the least distance between two points. In
this way we may thus discover, not all truths, indeed, but at least innumerable truths,
those which are already demonstrated by others as well as those which could be de-
monstrated by others through definitions, axioms, and observations that are already
known. And this is the advantage of our method - we can judge at once, through
numbers, whether proposed propositions are proved, and so we accomplish, solely
with the guidance of characters and the use of a definite method which is truly analytic,
what others have scarcely achieved with the greatest mental effort and by accident.
And therefore we can succeed in presenting conclusions within our own century
which would scarcely be provided for mortals in many thousands of years otherwise.
7. To make clear the use of characteristic numbers in propositions, the following
must be kept in mind. Every true categorical proposition, affirmative and universal,
signifies nothing but a certain connection between the predicate and the subject - in
the direct case, that is, of which I am always speaking here. This connection is such
that the predicate is said to be in the subject, or to be contained in it, and this either
absolutely and viewed in itself, or in some particular case. Or in the same way, the
subject is said to contain the predicate; that is, the concept of the subject, either in it-
self or with some addition, involves the concept of the predicate. And therefore the
subject and predicate are mutually related to each other either as whole and part, or
as whole and coinciding whole, or as part to whole. 6 In the first two cases the propo-
sition is universal affirmative. So when I say, 'All gold is a metal', I mean by this only
that the notion of metal is contained in the notion of gold in a direct sense, for gold is
the heaviest metal. And when I say, 'All pious people are happy', I mean only that the
connection between piety and happiness is such that whoever understands the nature
of piety perfectly will see that the nature of happiness is involved in it in the direct
sense. But in every case, whether the subject or the predicate is a part or a whole, a
particular affirmative proposition always holds. For example, some metals are gold;
even if metal per se did not include gold, yet some metal with an added or special
quality (such as what makes up the greater part of an Hungarian ducat) is of a nature
that involves the nature of gold. But a distinction between the subjects of a universal
and a particular proposition is found in the manner of this inclusion. For the subject
of a universal proposition, viewed in itself and taken absolutely, must contain the
predicate; so that the concept of gold, viewed in itself and taken absolutely, involves the
concept of metal, since the notion of gold is that of the heaviest metal. 7 But in an
affirmative particular proposition it suffices that the inclusion is successful when
something is added to the subject. The concept of metal, viewed absolutely and in
itself, does not involve the concept of gold; something must be added to involve it,
namely, the sign of particularity. For it is some certain metal which contains the con-
cept of gold. In the future, however, when we say that a term is contained in another
or a concept in another concept, we understand this to mean simply and in itself.
8. Negative propositions, however, merely contradict affirmative ones and assert
that they are false. Thus a particular negative proposition does nothing but deny that
there is an affirmative universal proposition. So when I say, 'Some silver is not soluble
in common aqua fortis [nitric acid]', I mean this one thing: the universal affirmative
proposition that all silver is soluble in common aqua fortis is false. For if we may be-
lieve certain chemists, there is an instance to the contrary, namely that which they call
luna jixa. A universal negative proposition, moreover, merely contradicts a particular
affirmative. For example, if I say, 'No wicked people are happy', I mean that it is
false that some wicked people are happy. Thus it is clear that negatives can be under-
stood from affirmatives, and affirmatives from negatives. 8
9. Further, every categorical proposition has two terms. Any two terms whatever
may differ in the following ways, insofar as they are said to be in, or not to be in, or to be
contained in, or not contained in. Either one is contained in the other, or neither. If
one is contained in the other, it may either be equal to the other, or they may differ as
whole and part. If neither is contained in the other, then either they contain something
in common or they differ entirely in genus. But we will explain these cases individually.
10. Two terms containing each other and yet equal, I call coincidents. For example,
the concept of a triangle coincides in fact with the concept of trilateral; that is, exactly
what is contained in one is also contained in the other, even though it may not some-
times appear so at first glance. But if both terms are analyzed, they will coincide. Thus
heaviest of metals and most stable of metals coincide, even though speaking absolutely,
heaviest and most stable do not coincide. This is clear from the example of mercury.
for between the two metals, copper and quicksilver, the former is obviously the most
stable, the latter the heaviest. But this is merely in passing.
11. Two terms, one of which contains the other but which are not coincident, are
commonly called genus and species. Considered as concepts or component terms as I
am here viewing them, these dyrer as part and whole, so that the concept of genus is
part, the concept of species the whole, for it consists of genus and differentia. For
example, the concept of gold and the concept of metal differ as whole and part, for the
concept of metal and something more is contained in the concept of gold; for example,
the concept of the heaviest among metals. Thus the concept of gold is greater than the
concept of metal.
12. The schools speak otherwise, because they are considering not concepts but in-
stances subsumed under universal concepts. Thus they say that metal is wider than
gold, since it contains more species than does gold. If we were to count the individuals

made of gold on the one hand, and those made of metal on the other, there would
certainly be more of the latter than of the former, and hence the former would be
contained in the latter as part in a whole. In fact, by applying this observation and
using fitting characters, we could demonstrate all the rules of logic by another kind of
calculus than the one developed here, merely by an inversion of our own calculus. But
I prefer to consider universal concepts or ideas and their composition, for these do not
depend on the existence of individuals. 9 So I say that gold is greater than metal, be-
cause more constituents are required for the concept of gold than for that of metal,
and more is needed to produce gold than to produce just a metal. Thus our phrases
here and the Scholastic phrases do not contradict each other but must nevertheless be
carefully distinguished. It will be clear to the careful student that I make no innovations
in my way of speaking which do not have a definite reason and application.
13. If neither term is contained in the other, they are called disparate. In that case,
to repeat what I have already said, either they have something in common or they
differ entirely in genus. Terms have something in common when they fall under the
same genus. These can be called conspecies; thus man and beast have the common
concept animal, gold and silver that of metal, gold and vitriol that of mineral. Hence
two terms clearly have more or less in common according as their genus is more or
less remote. For if the genus is very far removed, it will also be a very smaIl part of
what the species symbolize. And when the genus is most remote, as for example,
substance, we say that the things are heterogeneous, or differ entirely in genus, as body
and mind, not because they have nothing in common, since both are substances, but
because this common genus is so far removed. From this it follows that whether two
terms are to be called 'heterogeneous' or not is a comparative matter. It suffices for
our calculus that two things have in common none of a particular set of notions speci-
fied by us, even though they may have others in common.
14. Everything that we have so far said about terms that contain or do not contain
each other in various ways, we may now transfer to their characteristic numbers. This
is easy because, as we said in Article 4, when a term helps to constitute another term,
that is, when the concept of one term is contained in that of another, then the charact-
eristic number of the one enters by multiplication into the characteristic number
assumed for the term so constituted. Or what amounts to the same thing, the charact-
eristic number of the term to be constituted (or that which contains the other) is
divisible by the characteristic number of the constituting term (or that which is in the
other). For example, the concept of animal enters into the formation of the concept of
man, and so the characteristic number of animal, a (for example, 2), combines with
some other number r (such as 3), to produce the number ar or h by multiplication
(2 x 3); that is, the characteristic number of man. Hence number ar or h (or 6) must
necessarily be divisible by a (or by 2).
15. When two terms are coincident, however, for example man and rational animal,
their numbers too (h and ar) are in fact coincident. But since each term still contains
the other in this case, that is reciprocally, for man contains rational animal (but
nothing more) and rational animal contains man (and nothing more which is not
already contained in man), hand ar must necessarily contain each other (6 and 2 x 3),
and this is indeed true, since they are coincident and the same number is contained
in itself. Besides, one must necessarily be divisible by the other, and this is true also,
for when any number is divided by itself, the quotient is one. What we said in the pre-
ceding section is therefore true for coincident terms as well; whenever one term con-
tains another, its characteristic number is divisible by the characteristic of the other.
16. Hence we can also determine through characteristic numbers which term does
not contain another. One has merely to test whether the number of one term can be
divided exactly by the number of the other. For example, if the characteristic number
of man is found to be 6, and that of the ape is 10, it is obvious that the concept of ape
does not include that of man, nor that of man the ape, since 10 cannot be divided
evenly by 6, nor 6 by 10. So if you wish to know whether the concept of wisdom is
contained in that of a just being, that is, whether nothing more is required for wisdom
than what is already contained in justice, you need merely to examine whether the
characteristic number of just can be divided exactly by the characteristic number of
wise. If the division is impossible, it will be clear that something more is required for
wisdom than what is in justice, namely, a knowledge of reasons. For one can be just
by custom or habit, even though he cannot give a reason for what he does. I will show
later how that minimum which is necessary or must be added for the purpose can be
discovered by characteristic numbers.
17. So we can learn in this way whether any universal affirmative proposition is true.
For in such a proposition the concept of the subject, taken absolutely and indefinitely
and in general viewed in itself, always contains the concept of the predicate. For
example, all gold is a metal, that is, the concept of metal is contained in the concept of
gold generally and viewed in itself, so that whatever is assumed to be gold is by this
fact assumed to be metal, since all the constituents of metal, such as being homo-
geneous to sense, becoming a liquid when fire is applied in a certain degree, and then
not wetting other things immersed in it, are contained in the essentials of gold. (We
have explained how in Article 7.) Thus if we wish to know whether all gold is a metal-
for it can be doubted whether fulminating gold is a metal, since it is in the form of
powder and explodes rather than liquifies when fire is applied in a certain way - we
merely see whether the defiinition of metal is contained in it; that is, by a very simple
procedure when characteristic numbers are introduced, we see whether the character-
istic number of gold can be divided by the characteristic number of metal.
18. But in the particular affirmative proposition it is not necessary for the predicate
to be contained in the subject per se and viewed absolutely, or for the concept of the
subject per se to contain the concept of the predicate. It suffices that the predicate be
contained in some species of the subject or that the concept of some instance or species
of the subject contain the concept of the predicate; of what kind the species must be,
the proposition need not express. Hence, if you say, 'Some expert is prudent', this
does not assert that the concept of prudence is contained in the concept of expert
viewed in itself, though this is not denied, either. It suffices for our purpose that some
species of expert has a concept which contains the notion of prudence, even though
it is not made explicit what sort of species this may be, for instance, even if the propo-
sition does not express that the expert who also possesses natural judgment is prudent.
It is enough to understand that some species of expert involves prudence.
19. If the concept of the subject, viewed in itself, contains the concept of the predi-
cate, then certainly the concept of the subject with additions, or the concept of a
species of the subject, will contain the concept of the predicate. This is enough for us,
for we do not deny that the predicate is in the subject itself when we say it is in a
species of it. So we can say, 'Some metal in fire (rightly applied) is a liquid', although
For re/eren ces see p. 246

we could express this more generally and usefully thus: 'All metal in fire is a liquid.'
But a particular assertion has its uses, as when it is more easily demonstrated than a
general one or when the hearer may accept it more readily than the universal, and
the particular serves our purpose.
20. Since nothing more is required in a particular affirmative proposition than that
a species of the subject contains the predicate, the subject will itself be related to the
predicate either as species to genus, or as species to something coinciding with it or a
reciprocal attribute, or as a genus to a species. That is, the concept of the subject will
be related to that of the predicate, either as whole to part, or as whole to a coinciding
whole, or as part to whole. (See above, Arts. 7 and 11.)
It will be related as whole to part when the concept of the predicate as a genus is in
the concept of the subject as a species (for example, if 'bernicle' is the subject and 'bird'
the predicate). It will be related as whole to coinciding whole when two equivalents are
asserted of each other mutually, as is the case when 'triangle' is the subject and 'trila-
teral' the predicate. And finally, it will be related as part to whole, as when 'metal' is
the subject and 'gold' the predicate. Thus we can say, 'Some bernicles are birds',
'Some triangles are trilaterals' (though we might have affirmed these two propositions
as universals as well), and finally, 'Some metal is gold.' No particular affirmative
proposition is possible in any other cases. I prove this as follows. If the species of the
subject contains the predicate, it will certainly contain it in such a way that it coincides
with it, or as a part. If equal or coincident with it, the predicate is certainly a species of
the subject. If however the species of the subject contains the predicate as a part, the
predicate will be a genus of the species of the subject, by Article 11. Thus the predicate
and the subject will be two genera of the same species. Now two genera of the same
species either coincide or if they do not coincide, are necessarily related as genus and
species. It is easy to show this, for the concept of a genus is formed from that of a
species merely by casting off; therefore, if both genera are produced from the common
species of two genera by a process of continued casting off, i.e. if both genera remain
after the superfluous has been rejected, one will be produced before the other, and so
one will be a whole, the other a part.
But this is a fallacy, and at once many things fail which we have said so far. For I
now see that there are particular affirmative propositions also when neither term is
genus or species, or when the terms are compatible, as some animals are rational.
Hence it appears that the subject need not be divisible by the predicate or the predicate
by the subject. We have obscured many things by the discussion so far, though we have
been right about special cases; so we may now begin with the whole. 10
II. SPECIMEN OF UNIVERSAL CALCULUS

[G., VII, 218-27]
1. A universal affirmative proposition is here expressed in this way: a is b, or (all) man is
animal. 11 So we always understand the universal sign to be prefixed. We are not now
discussing negative propositions or particular and hypothetical propositions.
2. Aproposition true in itself:
ab is a, or (all) rational animal is animal.

ab is b, or (aU) rational animal is rational.
HANOVER TO THE IT ALlAN JOURNEY, 1676-87 241
Or omitting b, a is a, or (all) animal is animal.

3. Conclusion true in itself:
If a is b, and b is c, then a is c. If (all) man is animal, and (all) animal is substance, then
all man is substance.
4. From this follows:
If a is bd and b is c, then a is c. (All) man is rational animal; (all) animal is substance;
hence (all) man is substance.
This may be demonstrated as follows. If a is bd, by hypothesis, and bd is b, by No.2,
then a is b, by No.3. Further, if a is b (as we have proved), and bc is c, by hypothesis,
then a is c, by No.3.
5. A proposition is true which arises through logical conclusions from given propo-
sitions which are true in themselves.
Note. Although some propositions are to be assumed arbitrarily, such as definitions
of terms, truths follow from them which are not arbitrary; for at least it is absolutely
true that conclusions arise from such assumed definitions or what amounts to the
same thing, that the connection between conclusions, whether theorems and definitions
or arbitrary hypotheses, is absolutely true. This is apparent in numbers for instance,
whose signs and decimal order are established by the will of man. Yet the calculations
based on them signify absolute truths; that is, the connection between the assumed
characters and the formulas deduced from them signify also the connections between
things, which remain the same regardless of what characters are assumed. Moreover, it
is useful to science to assume characters in this way, so that many conclusions may be
drawn from few assumptions, which is the case when characters are assigned to the
simplest elements of thought.
6. If one thing can be substituted anywhere in place of another without destroying
truth, the other thing can be substituted conversely in place of the first. For example,
since trilateral can be substituted in place of a plane triangular figure, a triangle can be
substituted in place of a trilateral. For assuming two terms a and b, such that b can be
substituted anywhere for a, then I say, a can be substituted anywhere in place of b. This
I prove as follows. Assume the proposition b is c, or dis b; I say a can be substituted
for b in these. For let us assume that it cannot be substituted, or that one cannot say
that a is c and d is a; then these propositions are false. Then at least these two propo-
sitions are true: it is false that a is c and it is false that dis a. But by hypothesis, b can
be substituted for a; therefore these two propositions would also be true: it is false
that bis c, and it is false that dis b. But this contradicts the hypothesis by which these are
assumed to be true. So the proposition is proved. It can also be proved in other ways.
7. Terms are the same [eadem] if one can be substituted in place of the other without
destroying truth, as triangle and trilateral, quadrangle and quadrilateral.
8. All propositions (i.e. universal affirmative propositions; we are here dealing only
with them) of which a given letter a is a part can be reduced to the following forms,
however many others may seem enumerable.
aisd
abis e
cis a
a isfg is reducible to a is d, assumingfg to be d.
a is fhp is reducible to a is d, assumingfhp to be d, or hp to be g, andfg to be d, etc.

ab is ik is reducible to ab is e, assuming ik to be e, etc.

aIm is e is reducible to ab is e, assuming b to be 1m. b is 1m, hence ab is aIm.
aim is ik is reducible to ab is e, for ik is e, and ab is aim, etc.
np is a is reducible to c is a, assuming c to be np, etc.
q is ab (abc, etc.) is reducible to q is a, because ab is a.
rs is ab (abc, etc.) is reducible to q is a, assuming rs to be q etc.
a is a is reducible to d is a, assuming d to be a, or to a is c, assuming a to be c.
a is at (aB A, etc.) is reducible to a is d, assuming at to be d, or to a is a, because at is a.
a
ab is ) av
awx (etc.) All these can be analyzed in two ways from the
foregoing ones, retaining a either in the subject or
1az
a in the predicate.
abc is
ap,w (etc.)
All forms are reducible to the three given above, however, provided that we observe
that for d/or dig or bc or en, ab, abc, etc., can be placed one letter equal to this combi-
nation of more than one. So for the term 'rational animal', for the sake of compact-
ness, we place one term 'man', and for the composite ab or abc in the given predicate
we can substitute the simple term a. For if you say c is ab, or 'Man is a rational
animal', you can certainly say that c is a, or 'Man is an animaL' But it is otherwise in
the subject, for although I may say that all rational animals are man, I cannot say
that all animals are men. Thus I cannot reduce the proposition ab is c to a more
simple one in which a remains an ingredient. The others I can, as appears from what
has been said.
9. If a island/is a, a and/are the same, or one can be substituted in place of the
other. I prove this as follows. I will show first that/can always be substituted in place
of a itself. By the preceding section, namely, all propositions which contain a can be
reduced to three forms: a is d, ab is e, and c is a. From this I show that the follow-
ing three can be substituted:/is d,fb is e, and c is/. For since/is a and a is d,fwill also
be d. Likewise, since/is a,fb will be ab (by demonstration through addition), and since
ab is e,fb will be e. Finally, since c is a, and a is/. c will be/. In the same manner, more-
over, in which I show that/can be substituted in place of a, it can also be shown that
a can be substituted for /. since a and/are chosen arbitrarily, and also, since we showed
substitution to be reciprocal, in Section 6, above.
A being is what is signified by any term such as a or b or abo
Additions to the Specimen 0/ Universal Calculus
To understand the nature of this calculus, we must note that whatever we express by
certain letters which are assumed arbitrarily must be understood to be expressible in
the same way by any others which we may assume. So when I say that this proposition,
ab is a, is always true, I mean not merely that the example, 'A rational animal is an
animal', is true, assuming 'animal' to be signified by a and 'rational' by b, but I mean also
that the example, 'A rational animal is rational', is true, assuming 'rational' to be
signified by a and 'animal' by b. And so we may proceed to any other example,
such as an organic body is organic. And therefore we may also say bd is b instead
of ab is a.
It is to be noted also that it makes no difference whether you say ab or ba, for it
makes no difference whether you say 'rational animal' or 'animal rational being'.
The repetition of any letter in the same term is useless, and it is adequate to retain it
only once; for example, aa or man man.
Hence if a is be, and b is d, and e is also d, it is useless to say that a is dd; it suffices
that a is d. For example, man is a rational animal; all animals are sentient, and all
reasoning beings are sentient; but it useless to say that therefore man is a sentient
sentient, for this is saying no more than that man is sentient. However, if one wishes
to say that man is sentient in a double sense, this can itself be expressed in another
way, following the rules of our characteristic.
Different predicates can be combined into one; if it is established that a is b, and
also that a is e, it can be said that a is be. So if man is an animal, and man is rational,
man is a rational animal.
Conversely, one composite predicate can be divided into many. Thus a is bd; there-
fore a is b and a is e. For example, man is a rational animal; therefore man is animal
and man is rational.
When this division is noted in itself, the composition can be demonstrated from it.
For let us assume that man is an animal, and man is rational, but that man is never-
theless not a rational animal. Then the proposition would be false that man is a
rational animal. This falsity can be proved only in three ways: one by showing that
man is not an animal, which is contrary to hypothesis; another by showing that he is
not rational, which is also contrary to hypothesis; the third that he cannot be both
together or that the two are incompatible, which is also contrary to hypothesis, since
we assumed that he is at once animal and rational.
Composition is possible in the subject, but not division. For if b is a, and e is a, be is
also a. If all animals live, and all reasoning beings live, surely all rational animals live.
This is proved as follows.
be is b, b is a, therefore be is a.
be is e, e is a, therefore be is a.
Also, if we mix the composition and division of terms in various ways, there arise many
results until now untouched by logicians, especially if we add negative and particular
propositions besides.
If b is e, then ab is ae, or if man is an animal, it follows that a wise man is a wise
animal. This is proved as follows.
ab is b, b is e; therefore ab is e, by the first rule of conclusions.
ab is e, ab is a; therefore ab is ae, through the above demonstration.
But one cannot reason backward that ab is ae, therefore b is c. For it may happen that
a is ad, and bd is a. Yet if a and e have nothing in common, the conclusion would be
valid that ab is ae. We propose here, however, to pursue only general consequences.
Afterwards we will proceed to the more special ones, which are of greater importance
than the general ones, and have not been treated heretofore according to their impor-
tance. For the whole analysis rests upon 'certain conclusions which seem to violate
form but do not in fact violate the general c'onditions always observed in terms.
If a is b, and a is d, and d is b, ad is bd. This is demonstrable from the preceding.
a is b, a is e, dis b, dis e, therefore ad is be, assuming that e is d. It seems true from

the preceding that so many assumptions are unnecessary, and that it suffices that a is
b; hence ad is bd.
If a is b, and dis c, then ad is bc. This is an admirable theorem, which can be de-
monstrated in this way.
a is b, therefore ad is bd, by the above.
dis c, therefore bd is bc, also by the above.
ad is bd, and bd is bc, therefore ad is bc, which was to be demonstrated.
In general, if there is any number of propositions whatever: a is b, c is d, e is I, then
one can be made from them: ace is bdl, by addition of the subjects on one side and the
predicates on the other. 12
In general, if there is a proposition m is bdl, three can be made from it, m is b, m is
d,misf.
All these things are easily proved if only this one thing be assumed - that the subject
be the container, and the predicate at the same time be the contained or joined to the
subject; or on the contrary, that the subject be the contained and the predicate the
alternative or conjunctive containerP
A term is a, b, ab, bcd; such as man, animal, rational animal, rational visible mortal.
I designate a universal affirmative proposition thus: a is b, or (all) man is animal. I
wish this always to be the sign of universality, where a is the subject, b the predicate, and
is the copula.
Postulate. It is permissible to assume a letter to be equivalent to one or more letters
at once (so d is equal to a) and that it can be substituted in place of the other. c is equi-
valent to the term ab, or for example, man is the same as rational animal. I mean
this to hold, if nothing contrary to these assumptions has already been assumed.
Propositions true in themselves:
(1) a is a. Animal is animal.
(2) ab is a. Rational animal is animal.
(3) a is not non-a. Animal is not nonanimal.
(4) Non-a is not a. Nonanimal is not animal.
(5) What is not a is non-a. What is not an animal is nonanimal.
(6) What is not non-a is a. What is not a nonanimal is an animal. From these many
others can be derived.
Consequences true in themselves: a is b, and b is c, therefore a is c. God is wise, wise
is just; therefore God is just. This chain can be continued further. For example,
God is wise, wise is just, just is austere; therefore God is austere.
Principles of the calculus. (1) Whatever is concluded in certain indefinite letters must
be understood to be concluded in whatever other letters have the same relation. Thus,
since it is true that ab is a, it is also true that bc is b and that bcd is bc. For substituting
e for bc (by the postulate), it is the same as if we said, edis e.
(2) The transposition of letters in the same term changes nothing; thus ab coincides
with ba, or rational animal with animal reasoner.
(3) The repetition of the same letter in the same term is useless; thus b is aa, or bb
is a; man is an animal animal, or man man is an animal. It suffices to say that a is b, or
man is an animal.
(4) From any number of propositions whatever one can be made by adding all the
subjects into one subject and all the predicates into one predicate. a is b, and c is d, and
e is f.' hence ace is bdf. Thus God is omnipotent, man is endowed with a body. To be
crucified is to suffer. Therefore a God-man crucified is an omnipotent being endowed

with a body and suffering. It makes no difference if the terms sometimes combined in
this way are inconsistent. Thus a circle is a null-angle. A square is a quadrangle. There-
fore a square circle is a null-angled quadrangle. For the proposition is valid, though
from an impossible hypothesis. This observation is especially useful in chains extended
to more length, for example in this way: God is wise, God is omnipotent, a just
omnipotent being punishes the wicked. God does not punish some wicked people
in this life. He who punishes but does not punish in this life, punishes in another life.
Therefore God punishes in another life.
(5) From any proposition whose predicate is composed of many terms, many
propositions can be made of which each will have the same subject as the original but
will have some part of the original predicate in place of the predicate. a is bed; there-
fore a is b, and a is c, and a is d. Or man is a rational, mortal, visible being. Therefore
man is rational, man is mortal, and man is visible.
If a is band b is a, then a and b are said to be the same. Thus every pious man is
happy, and every happy man is pious. Therefore pious and happy are the same.
Hence it can easily be proved that one can be substituted anywhere in the place of the
other without destroying truth. Thus if a is band b is a; and b is e, or d is a, then a is
also e, and dis b. Thus all pious are happy, and all happy are pious, and all the happy
are elect, and all martyrs are pious. Therefore all the pious are elect, and all martyrs
are happy. (Note. By the pious I mean those persevering or dying in grace.)
Terms are diverse which are not the same, as man and animal, for even though all
men are animals, not all animals are men.
a and b are disparate if a is not band b is not a; as man and stone. For man is not
a stone, and a stone is not a man. Thus all disparates are diverse, but not the converse.
If a is m and b is m and a and b are the same, then m is said to be one. Thus Octavia-
nus is Caesar and Augustus is Caesar. But since Octavianus and Augustus are the
same, only one Caesar will be counted....
... If we assume any simple term whatever equivalent to any composite one, or
expressing the same thing, the simple term will be defined, the composite term will be
the definition. This defined term expressed by a character we will henceforth call the
name of a thing. Thus if for ab we should say a rational animal, and for the sake of
brevity, say e for man, then e, or the word 'man', would be the name of the thing
whose definition is rational animal, or the word 'man' would be the name of
men.
If in a universal affirmative proposition, the subject is a thing but the predicate is
neither a thing nor a definition but some other term, then this term is said to be an
attribute. Thus the definition of God, whose name is 'God', is a most perfect being. His
attributes are pity, omnipotence, creativity, being, being by itself. Thus if c is a thing
and ab is its definition, and e is d (where d is not the term ab), then d is called the
attribute of e.
If in a universal affirmative proposition the predicate is a thing, but the subject is
not a thing or the definition of a thing but some other term, this term is called a
property (propriumJ. For example, all man is animal; thus man is 'proper to' animal.
For only an animal can be a man, even though all animal may not be man. We are not
defining property here in the fourth mode, but in general, in the sense of what belongs
to something alone. So if e is a thing and ab the definition of a thing, and the universal

affirmative proposition dis c is given, d will be the property of, or proper to, c, though
neither c nor ab is to be understood by the term d.
A genus is a common attribute. Thus the genus of the terms d and e is a, if d is ab
and e is ac, or if d is a but a is not d.
The proprium genus is the attribute common to many, but of them alone. Thus animal
is the proprium genus of men and beasts, or if d is a and e is a, and if what is non-d
and non-e is non-a, a will be the proprium genus of the species d and e.
An accident is a subject both in a particular affirmative proposition and in the nega-
tive with the same subject. So some men are learned and some men are not learned,
therefore learning is an accident of man. If some a is b and some a is non-b, b is an
accident of a.
Aproprium attribute is obviously what is at once an attribute and a property. Name-
ly, if the definition of a thing c (as of man) is ab (rational animal) and there are given
two propositions: c is d ('Man is a rational morta)'), in which d is an attribute, and d
is c ('A rational mortal is man'): in which d is a property, it is obvious that d is a
proprium attribute. It is also obvious that a name, a definition, and a proprium attri-
bute are equivalent terms, or terms expressing the same thing. This is what is commonly
called the property in the fourth mode, or the reciprocal property.
A substantive 14 is that (name) which includes (the name of a) being or thing. An
adjective is what does not include it. Thus animal is a substantive, or the same as an
animal being. Rational is an adjective, but it can become a substantive if you combine
it with being, and say a rational being or, briefly in a word (if a jest be permitted), a
rational. Thus from the term 'animal being', the term 'animal'.
A genus is a substantive which is an attribute common to many, which are called
I
species.
Attribute Every differentia A specific difference is an adjective which,
can be specific with the genus, constitutes a term equi-
)
with another valent to a species (or better, the definition
genus. of a species?). A generic difference is that
which is the specific difference of a genus.
A definition is a composite substantive term equivalent to a species.
A property is an adjective, the subject of a universal proposition whose predicate is a
substantive.
An accident is an adjective, the predicate of a subject of a particular affirmative
proposition only.
REFERENCES
1 Discussions of these papers may be found in Couto L., chap. VIII, and in the works by Durr,
Matzat, and Parkinson given in the Bibliography.
2 That is, the syncategorematic sign, including that of quantity: all or some. Note that
Leibniz neglects negative propositions, which he rules out below in Section 8.
a The distinction between 'direct' and 'oblique' relations originates in Aristotle's Prior Ana-
Iytics i. 36. Terms are directly related when they can be combined by multiplication (or addi-
tion) alone. Terms enter a proposition obliquely when they involve a relation other than
combination. Leibniz's best definition of these relations is in the letter to Gabriel Wagner
(No. 48). Though he often touches upon oblique relations, he never deals systematically with
them, because his logical calculus does not advance beyond the multiplication (or addition)
and resolution of terms and categorical propositions. His recognition of oblique relations
reflects the inadequacy of his theory of propositional inclusion to cover the existence of a
plurality of substances and their interrelations.
4 To simplify the exposition, we omit Leibniz's second example (gold is the heaviest metal),
which adds nothing to his analysis.
5 Elements, Book I, Definition 4: "A straight line is that which rests evenly between its extreme
points."
6 Couturat notes: "All of these considerations are relative to the point of view of connotation
(or intension)."
7 Leibniz, it must be remembered, is here and throughout this study (with the exception in
Sec. 12, below) discussing intensional meanings, not classes.
8 Leibniz's reduction of negative logical relations between affirmative terms to the denial of an
affirmative proposition supports his conception of the ontological significance of logic. It also
saves him from an analogy between logical negation and physical resistance and opposition.
9 Leibniz therefore explicitly recognizes the possibility of an extensional logic of inclusion, with
laws inverting his own intensional ones. His reason for clinging to the intensional position
must be sought in his conviction that truths of reason are prior to truths of fact.
10 Leibniz seems to have found himself betrayed by too close adherence to a logic of genera
and species and now seeks a more general treatment of particular propositions. In the papers
which continue this study (not here translated) he analyzes the particular proposition math-
ematically as one whose terms have a common factor (Cout. OF., pp. 64-65).
11 The Latin is translated literally to avoid implying an extensional interpretation such as 'all
men are animals' suggests.
12 Leibniz is thus interpreting the combination of terms as addition rather than multiplication,
as he continues to do in the studies of the 1690's (No. 41).
13 What follows is a marginal summary and systematization.
14 Marginal note: "These definitions are adapted to the Scholastic usage, but the difference
between substantive and adjective need not appear in characters, and it serves no purpose.'
27
STUDIES IN A GEOMETRY OF SITUATION

WITH A LETTER TO CHRISTIAN HUYGENS
1679
Leibniz's interest in the application ofthe general characteristic to geometry seems to have
been stimulated by a rereading of the first book of Euclid's Elements early in 1679. (His
notes are given in GM., V, 183-211.) He proposed the new, nonquantitative approach in
a letter to Huygens, which is also interesting for its report on the properties ofphosphorus,
and sent with the letter (I) an essay in which he developed fundamental geometrical
definitions and relations on the basis of the relationship of congruence and the operations
involved in it (II).l In a later second paper he used the less determinate but more general
relationship of similarity in his demonstrations (III). Both relations are particular deri-
vatives of the logical principle of identity or equivalence. 2 Leibniz's efforts to found such a
geometry met with no response until Riemann and Grassmann, in the 19th century, under-
took related studies. He returned to it several times, however, particularly in 1698-99 and
near the close ofhis life (No. 69).
[GM., II, 17-20]

September 8, 1679
One of my friends, Mr. Hansen, who has had the honor of speaking with you, assures
me that you continue to have a good opinion of me, for which I am much indebted to
you. And I want to use this opportunity to witness how much I honor your extraordi-
nary worth, which everyone recognizes as I do, and which places you in the highest rank.
I have learned from Mr. Mariotte that you will soon give us the dioptrics which we
have so long desired. I am very eager to see it some day, and I should like to know in
advance if you are satisfied with the reasons for refraction which Descartes proposes.
I must admit that I am not entirely, any more than with Mr. Fermat's explanation in
the third volume of Descartes's letters. 3
I have left my manuscript on arithmetical quadratures at Paris so that it may some
day be printed there. But I have advanced far beyond studies of this kind and believe
that we can get to the bottom of most problems which now seem to lie beyond our
calculation; for example, quadratures, the inverse method of tangents, the irrational
roots of equations, and the arithmetic of Diophantus. I have some general methods
which solve most of these things in a way as determinate as that used in ordinary
algebra to solve an equation. And I am not afraid to say that there is a way to advance
algebra as far beyond what Vieta and Descartes have left us as Vieta and Descartes
carried it beyond the ancients ....
... But in spite of the progress which I have made in these matters 4, I am still not
satisfied with algebra, because it does not give the shortest methods or the most
beautiful constructions in geometry. This is why I believe that, so far as geometry is
concerned, we need still another analysis which is distinctly geometrical or linear and
which will express situation [situs] directly as algebra expresses magnitude directly.
And I believe that I have found the way and that we can represent figures and even
machines and movements by characters, as algebra represents numbers or magni-
tudes. I am sending you an essay which seems to me to be important. There is no one
who can judge it better than you, Sir, and I should take your opinion in preference to
those of many other men.
I am also sending you a little of the corporeal fire, which can well be called a perpe-
tual light, for when properly protected, it lasts many years without being consumed.
It is a small piece but beautiful, for similar pieces are not always produced; usually the
matter comes in small grains. I have put it in a bladder, and this is sealed in wax so that
nothing can escape, and the piece will not take fire by motion or friction, as easily
happens. Such a piece will be enough for many experiments, for the smallest particle
is capable of making things radiant, and when one takes it into his hands, they
remain luminous for some hours, yet there is nothing visible in daylight. One can write
with it in luminous letters, and some hours later, when these seem dead, they become
visible afresh if rubbed once more. I hold that there is a true fire inclosed with the
matter, but not concentrated enough to make itself felt. When one blows against it,
the light disappears but returns immediately afterward, which is a remarkable thing.
However, I have seen its vapor alone light a piece of paper which I was using to wipe
my fingers when I emptied the container after I had produced the fire. It is easy to
ignite gunpowder, either by the sun or through friction, after a little of this phosphorus
is mixed with it. It would be good to try it in a vacuum. For the rest, I refer you to the
experiments which I have reported to the Duke of Chevreuse. In order better to pre-
serve this piece, one must spill a little water on it and keep it in a small well-corked
glass bottle; otherwise it will evaporate in the air. In the water it will emit light at
intervals, particularly when it is moved or warmed a little by contact with the hand;
but when it is dry and exposed to the air, it shines continuously. You need not be
"paring with it, for I can let you have more, since I can make it. I beg you, Sir, to show
its effects to Mr. Colbert, the Duke of Chevreuse, and the Academy. If you find them
agreeable, I am inclined to communicate its composition to the Academy, though
this would be difficult for me.
I beg you, Sir, to tell me something about scientific happenings there. Mr. Brousseau,
the resident of my prince, who lives in the Rue des Rosiers behind little S. Antoine,
will send me your letter. You have heard mention of the attempt of Mr. Becher 5, in
Holland, to extract gold from sand. There are persons here who think well of him.
Mr. Hudde is, as you know, one of the commissioners. Mr. Becher says he is also
dealing with the French. I should like to know if you have heard talk about it in
Paris. As for me, I am skeptical of his success, for I believe I know a little about the
nature of his experiment. He does find a vestige of gold, but I do not think he has
gained any of it, for he claims that the proportion of gold is greater in large than in
small amounts, which is paradoxical.
II. SUPPLEMENT
[GM., II, 20-27]
I have discovered certain elements of a new characteristic which is entirely different

from algebra and which will have great advantages in representing to the mind,
exactly and in a way faithful to its nature, even without figures, everything which
depends on sense perception. Algebra is the characteristic for undetermined numbers
or magnitudes only, but it does not express situation, angles, and motion directly.
Hence it is often difficult to analyze the properties of a figure by calculation, and stilI
more difficult to find very convenient geometrical demonstrations and constructions,
even when the algebraic calculation is completed. But this new characteristic, which
follows the visual figures, cannot fail to give the solution, the construction, and the
geometric demonstration all at the same time, and in a natural way and in one analysis,
that is, through determined procedure. Algebra is compelled to presuppose the ele-
ments of geometry 6; this characteristic, instead, carries the analysis through to its end.
If it were completed in the way in which I think of it, one could carry out the descrip-
tion of a machine, no matter how complicated, in characters which would be merely
the letters of the alphabet, and so provide the mind with a method of knowing the
machine and all its parts, their motion and use, distinctly and easily without the
use of any figures or models and without the need of imagination. Yet the figure
would inevitably be present to the mind whenever one wishes to interpret the
characters. One could also give exact descriptions of natural things by means
of it, such, for example, as the structure of plants and animals. With its aid people
who find it hard to draw figures could explain a matter perfectly, provided they
have it present before them or in their nlind, and could transmit their thoughts and
experiences to posterity - a thing which cannot be done today because the words of
our languages are not sufficiently fixed or well enough fitted for good explanations
without figures.
This is the least useful aspect of this characteristic, however, for if only description
were involved, it would be better - assuming that we can and are willing to bear the ex-
pense - to have figures and even models or, better still, the original things themselves.
But its chief value lies in the reasoning which can be done and the conclusions which
can be drawn by operations with its characters, which could not be expressed in
figures, and still less in models, without multiplying these too greatly or without con-
fusing them with too many points and lines in the course of the many futile attempts
one is forced to make. This method, by contrast, will guide us surely and without
effort. I believe that by this method one could treat mechanics almost like geometry,
and one could even test the qualities of materials, because this ordinarily depends on
certain figures in their sensible parts. Finally, I have no hope that we can get very far
in physics until we have found some such method of abridgment to lighten its burden
of imagination. For example, we see what a series of geometrical reasoning is necessary
merely to explain the rainbow, one of the simplest effects of nature; so we can infer
what a chain of conclusions would be necessary to penetrate into the inner nature of
complex effects whose structure is so subtle that the microscope, which can reveal
more than the hundred-thousandth part, does not explain it enough to help us much.
Yet there would be some hope of achieving this goal, at least in part, if this truly geo-
metrical analysis were established.
But since I have found no one else who has ever come upon this thought, and am
therefore apprehensive that it will be lost if I do not have the time to carry it out, I shall
here add an essay which seems to me to be important and which will at least suffice to
make my plan more plausible and easier to understand. If therefore some circumstance
prevents its perfection at present, this essay will serve as a witness to posterity and give
occasion for someone else to carry it through.
It is well known that nothing is more important in geometry than the consideration
of loci. I shall therefore express one of the simplest of these by characters of this kind.
The letters of the alphabet will ordinarily signify the points of figures. Letters at the
beginning, such as A and B, will express given points; letters at the end, such as X and
Y, unknown points. Instead of using equalities or equations as in algebra, I shall here
use relations of congruence, which I shall express by the character \:l • For example,
in the first figure (Figure I), ABC \:l DEF means that the triangles ABC and DEF are
congruent with respect to the order of their points, that they can occupy exactly the
same place, and that one can be applied or placed on the other without changing
o .,
o
b
I ,
I ,
I \
A
I ,
I ,
B I \
",.,"'\
,' "
I ,
""
./
,,..1 I
I
'
'
"' __________
",,"" \ ,
I
L _____ .....
'\
A C E F A C E F
Fig. 1. Fig. 2.
anything in the two figures except their place. So if one places D upon A, E upon B, and
F upon C, the two triangles, which are assumed to be equal and similar, obviously
coincide. But without speaking of triangles, one can, in a way, still say the same thing
about points, or about ABC \:l DEFin Figure 2; that is, one can at the same time place
A upon D, B upon E, and C upon F without the situation of the three points ABC
being changed in relation to each other or that of the three points DEF to each other,
assuming in this that the first three points are connected by rigid lines (whether
straight or curved does not matter) and the other three likewise. After this explanation
of our characters, we develop the following loci.
Let A \:l Y (Figure 3); that is, given a point A, to find the locus of all points Y, or
(Y)7, which are congruent with A. I assert that the locus of all these Y's will be a
(y).
y. A
Fig. 3. Fig. 4.

space infinite in all directions. For all the points in the world are congruent to each
other; that is, one can always be put in place of another. But all the points in the world
are in the same space. This locus can also be expressed thus: Y 8 (Y). This is all very
obvious, but we must begin at the beginning.
Let A Y 8 A (Y) (Figure 4). The locus of all Y's will be the surface of a sphere whose
center is A and whose radius is A Y, which is always the same in length or equal to a
given segment AB or CB. For this reason we can express the same locus as AB 8 A Y,
orCB 8 AY.
Let AX 8 BX (Figure 5). The locus of all X's will be a plane. Two points, A and B,
being given, to find a third, X, which has the same situation in relation to A as it has
to B (that is, AX shall be equal or congruent to BX, since all equal straight lines are
congruent, or point B can be placed on point A without changing the situation it had in
(X)
_-
.......... ......
A ... ---- -......- .... -
X--+-----=:"'-8
Fig. 5. Fig. 6.
relation to X). I assert that all points X, (X) of a single definite plane extending to
infinity will satisfy this condition. For just as AX 8 BX, so A (X) 8 B (X). But there is no
point outside the plane which will satisfy this condition. Therefore this infinitely ex-
tended plane will be the common locus of every point in the universe situated in rela-
tion to A as it is to B. (It follows that this plane will pass through the midpoint of the
straight line AB, which is perpendicular to it. 8)
Let ABC 8 ABY (Figure 6). The locus of all Y's will be circular. That is, given
three points A, B, C; to find a fourth point Y which has the same situation as C in
relation to AB. I assert that there is an infinity of points which satisfy this condition
and that the locus of all these points is a circle. This description or definition of a
circular line does not, as does Euclid's, presuppose a plane or even a straight line. Yet
it is clear that the center of the circle is D, between A and B. This can also be said in
this way: ABY 8 AB(Y); then the locus would be a circle that is not given. A given
point must therefore be added. 9 We can imagine that the two points A and B remain
fixed and that point C, attached to them by certain rigid lines, straight or curved, and
consequently preserving the same situation in relation to them, is turned around AC so
as to describe the circle CY(Y). We can conclude from this that the situation of one
point in relation to another can be thought of without expressing the straight line
joining them, provided they are thought of as joined by some line, whatever it may be;
and if this line is assumed to be rigid, the situation of the two points in relation to each
other will be immutable. Two points can be thought of as having the same situation
in relation to each other as two other points have, if the one pair can be joined by a
line which is congruent with the line joining the other pair. I say this so that it can be
seen that nothing which I have said so far depends on the straight line, whose defini-
tion I am about to give, and that there is a difference between the points A and C, the
situation of A and C in relation to each other, and the straight line A e.
Let A Y ~ BY ~ CY (Figure 7). Then the locus of all Y's will be a straight line. That
is, given three points, to find a point Ywhich has the same situation in relation to A as
A B
..
/j
B
•• --••••.•.••••.••..y ••......•••••••••.•.
c A
,-,<::'~4:::::::o"o", c
Fig. 7. Fig. 8.
it has to B and to C. I assert that all such points will fall on an infinite straight line
Y(Y). If this were all limited to a plane, two given points would suffice to determine
a straight line in this way.10
Finally, let AY ~ BY ~ CY ~ DY (Figure 8). The locus will be a single point, for
we seek a point Ywhich has the same situation relative to each of the four given points
A, B, C, and D. That is, the straight lines A Y, BY, CY, and D Y shall be equal to each
other, and there is only one point which will satisfy this condition.
These same loci can be expressed in many other ways, but these are the simplest and
most fruitful and can pass for definitions. To show that these expressions are useful in
reasoning, I shall, before closing, demonstrate the nature of the intersections between
these loci by means of their characters.
First, the intersection of two spherical surfaces is a circle. l1 The expression of a circle
is ABC ~ ABY; hence A C ~ A Yand BC ~ BY. But the loci corresponding to these
congruences are two spheres, one with center A and radius AC, the other with center B
and radius Be.
The intersection of a plane and a sphere is likewise a circle. For the expression of a
sphere is AC ~ AY, and that of a plane is AY ~ BY. Hence AC ~ BC, since point C
is one of the points Y. NowsinceBC ~ AC,andAC ~ AY, itfollows that BC ~ AY;
and since A Y ~ BY, we have BC ~ BY. Joining these congruences together, we have
ABC ~ ABYor AB ~ AB, BC ~ BY, and AC ~ AY. But ABC ~ ABYis the ex-
pression of a circle, which was here to be proved by this kind of calculus.
In the same way it is shown that the intersection of two planes is a straight line. For
let there be two congruences: AB ~ BY for one plane, and A Y ~ CY for another
plane. Then we will have A Y ~ BY ~ CY, whose locus is a straight line. Finally, the
intersection of two straight lines is a point. For let A Y ~ BY ~ CY, and BY ~ CY
~ DY;thenwehaveAY ~ BY ~ CY \) DY.
I have only one comment to add; namely, that I see the possibility of extending the
characteristic to things which are not subject to sensory imagination. But this is so
important and has so many implications that I cannot explain it here in a few
words.

III. ON ANALYSIS SITUS 12

[GM., Y, 178-83]
What is commonly known as mathematical analysis is analysis of magnitude, not of
situation, and as such it pertains directly and immediately to arithmetic but is appli-
cable to geometry only in an indirect sense. The result is that many things easily
become clear through a consideration of situation, which the algebraic calculus shows
only with greater difficulty. To reduce geometric problems to algebra, i.e., to reduce
problems determined by figures to equations, is often a rather prolonged affair, and
further complications and difficulties are necessary to return form the equation to the
construction, from algebra back to geometry. Often, too, the constructions produced
in this way are not entirely appropriate, unless we are lucky enough to stumble upon
unforeseen postulates and assumptions. This Descartes himself tacitly admitted in
solving a certain problem of Pappus in Book III of his Geometry. In fact algebra,
whether using numbers or symbols, adds, subtracts, multiplies, divides, extracts roots,
all of which are arithmetical. For logistics itself, or the science of magnitude and pro-
portion in general, deals only with general or indeterminate number and with the
species of operations performed on it, since magnitude is in fact measured by the
number of determinate parts, yet this number may vary for the same fixed thing, de-
pending upon which measure or unit is assumed. It is not surprising, therefore, that
the science of magnitude in general is a kind of arithmetic, since it deals with indeter-
minate numbers.
The ancients had another kind of analysis, different from algebra, which was con-
cerned rather with considering situation. It deals with data and with the positions of
unknown entities or their loci. This is the trend of Euclid's book De datis, on which
there exists a commentary by MarinusP Apollonius particularly, but others as well,
dealt with plane, solid, and linear loci; more recent thinkers have reconstructed the
doctrine of plane and solid loci from his propositions as preserved by Pappus, but in
such a way as to show merely the truth rather than the source of the ancient doctrine.
Yet this kind of analysis does not reduce the matter to a calculation, nor is it carried
through to the first principles and elements of situation, as is necessary for a perfect
analysis.
The true analysis of situation is therefore still to be supplied. This can be shown from
the fact that all analysts, whether they use algebra in the new manner or deal with the
given and the unknown after the ancient pattern, have to assume many things from
elementary geometry which are not derived from the consideration of magnitude but
from that of figure, and which have not yet been explained in any determinate way.
Euclid himself was forced to assume certain obscure axioms, without proof, in order to
proceed with the rest. And the demonstration of theorems and the solution of prob-
lems in his Elements sometimes seem to be achieved through hard labor rather than
method and skill, even though he also seems sometimes to conceal the ingenuity of his
method.
Besides quantity, figure in general includes also quality or form. And as those
figures are equal whose magnitude is the same, so those are similar whose form is the
same. The theory of similarities or of forms lies beyond mathematics and must be
sought in metaphysics. Yet it has many uses in mathematics also, being of use even in
the algebraic calculus itself. But similarity is seen best of all in the situations or figures
of geometry. Thus a true geometric analysis ought not only consider equalities and
proportions which are truly reducible to equalities but also similarities 'and, arising
from the combination of equality and similarity, congruences.
The true reason why geometricians have not made enough use of a theory of simi-
larity is, I think, this. They did not have any general concept of it which was sufficiently
distinct or adapted to mathematical investigation; this is a fault of philosophers, who
usually are content, especially in metaphysics, with vague definitions which are fully
as obscure as the thing defined. Hence it need not surprise anyone that this doctrine
is usually barren and verbose. Thus it is not enough to designate objects as similar
whose form is the same, unless a general concept is further given of form. In under-
taking an explanation of quality or form, I have learned that the matter reduces to this:
things are similar which cannot be distinguished when observed in isolation from each
other. Quantity can be grasped only when the things are actually present together or
when some intervening thing can be applied to both. But quality presents something to
the mind which can be known in a thing separately and can then be applied to the
comparison of two things without actually bringing the two together either imme-
diately or through the mediation of a third object as a measure. Let us imagine that
two temples or buildings are constructed according to this law: that nothing can be
found in one which you do not also find in the other. The material is everywhere the
same, white Parian marble, if you like; the proportions of walls, columns, and all the
rest are everywhere the same; the angles are everywhere equal or in the same ratio to a
right angle. If anyone is led into these two temples blindfolded, and his eyes are un-
covered after he has entered and he walks about, first in one and then in the other, he
will receive no clue from them by which to distinguish one from the other. Yet they
may actually differ in magnitude, and might be distinguished if viewed at the same
time from the same place, or also (assuming that they are some distance apart) if
some third object be carried from one to the other and compared with them - if, for
instance, some measure such as a yard or a foot or any other appropriate unit, be
applied first to one and then to the other. Only then will there be a ground for dis-
tinguishing them with regard to the discovered inequality. Similarly, if the body of the
spectator himself, or one of its members, which of course moves from place to place
with him and may serve as a measure, is compared with these temples, then too their
magnitudes will appear different and thus give a basis for distinguishing them. But if
you consider the spectator only as a seeing mind concentrated at a point as it were,
without any magnitude about him, either really or in his imagination, and have
regard only for those aspects of things which the intellect can follow, such as numbers,
proportions, and angles, no distinction will appear. These temples are therefore called
similar, because they can be distinguished only by being observed together, either
directly with each other or with a third something, but it is impossible to distinguish
them singly and when seen by themselves. 14
This clear, practical, and universal description of similarity will be useful to us in
geometrical demonstrations, as will appear directly. For we call two presented figures
similar if nothing can be observed in one, viewed by itself, which cannot be equally
observed in the other. Thus it follows that there should be the same ratio of propor-
tion of parts in both cases; otherwise a distinction would appear even when each is
viewed by itself, without any direct observation of both together. But lacking a
general concept of similarity, geometricians have defined figures as similar whose

corresponding angles are equal. This is a special case which does not reveal the nature
of similarity in general. As a result they had to proceed indirectly to prove proposi-
tions which follow at the first glance from our definition. But let us come to examples.
In the Elements it is shown that similar or equiangular triangles have proportional
sides, and the converse. But Euclid uses many detours to achieve this demonstration,
and then only in the fifth book, whereas he might have shown it in the first if he had
used our concept. First we shall demonstrate that equiangular triangles are similar.
Given two triangles ABC and LMN (Figure 9), whose angles A, B, and C and L, M,
A
B
Fig. 9.
~
M N
and N are, respectively, equal. I say the triangles are similar. I use this new axiom:
things which cannot be distinguished through their determinants (or through data ade-
quate to define them) cannot be distinguished at all, since all other properties arise
from these data. ls Now given the base BC and the angles Band C (and hence also
the angle A), the triangle ABC is given; likewise, given the base MN and the angles
M and N (and hence also the angle L), the triangle LMN is given. But from these
properties sufficient to determine the triangles, they cannot be distinguished if viewed
singly. For in each triangle the base and two adjacent angles are given, but the base
cannot be compared with the angles. Therefore there remains nothing which can be
examined in either triangle viewed singly by its determinants, except the ratio of each
given angle to a right angle or to two right angles, that is, the magnitude of the angle
itself. And since these are found to be the same in both triangles, it follows necessarily
that the triangles singly cannot be distinguished and therefore are similar. For I may
add as a scholium that although the triangles can be distinguished by magnitude,
magnitude can be known only by observing together either both triangles at the same
time or each with some other unit of measure. But in this case they would not be
merely viewed separately, as was postulated.
The converse is also clear, that similar triangles are equiangular. Otherwise, if there
were some angle A in the triangle ABC to which no equal one is found in triangle
LMN, there would be given an angle in ABC having a ratio to two right angles (or to
the sum of the angles of the triangle) which no angle has in LMN, and this suffices to
distinguish the triangle ABC, viewed separately, from triangle LMN. It is also shown
that similar triangles have proportional sides. For if some two sides were given, such
as AB and BC which have a ratio to each other which no two sides of LMN have, then
one triangle could be distinguished from the other, even viewed singly. Finally, if their
sides are proportional, triangles are similar, for if the sides are given, the triangles are
given, and it suffices (according to our axiom) that no basis for distinguishing them can
be found in the ratio of the sides, so that we may conclude that such a distinction can
be found in no other circumstance in the triangles viewed singly. It is also clear from
this that equiangular triangles have proportional sides, and the converse.
In the same way it is shown directly and at first glance from our concept of simi-
larity that circles are to each other as the squares of their diameters, which Euclid
shows only in his tenth book, and then by using inscribed and circumscribed figures
and a reductio ad absurdum, whereas no such roundabout methods are necessary.
Given a circle with a diameter AB (Figure 10) and CD, the square on the diameter
Fig. 10.
circumscribed about it. In the same way let a circle be described with a diameter LM,
and the square NO, or its diameter, circumscribed about it. The determinants are
similar in both figures, circle to circle, square to square, and relation of circle to
square; so by the above axiom, figures ABCD and LMNO are similar. Therefore,
by definition of similarity, the circle AB is to the square CD as the circle LM is to the
square NO, and hence the circle AB is to the circle LM as the square CD is to the
square NO, which was to be proved. In the same way it is proved that spheres are to
each other as the cubes of their diameters and in general, that in similar figures lines,
surfaces, and volumes are proportional, respectively, to lengths, squares, and cubes of
corresponding sides. Until now this has been more generally assumed than proved.
Furthermore, this point of view, which offers such facility in demonstrating truths
which have been proved only with difficulty by other methods, also opens a new type
of calculus to us which is far different from the algebraic calculus and is new both in
its symbols and in the application it makes of them or in its operations. I like to call it
Analysis Situs, because it explains situation directly and immediately, so that, even if
the figures are not drawn, they are portrayed to the mind through symbols; and
whatever the empirical imagination understands from the figures, this calculus de-
rives by exact calculation from the symbols. All other matters which the power of
imagination cannot penetrate will also follow from it. Therefore this calculus of situa-
tion which I propose will contain a supplement to sensory imagination and perfect it,
as it were. It will have applications hitherto unknown not only in geometry but also in
the invention of machines and in the descriptions of the mechanisms of nature.
REFERENCES
1 The essay (II) sent to Huygens is part of a more extensive study in geometry dated August 10,
1679, and published in OM., V, 141-71.
2 Cf. Couto OF., p. 152, from 1680: "We will reduce equality to congruence, and ratio to
similarity. Two things are equal if one can be transformed into the other." There can be little
doubt that Leibniz was first influenced to undertake the reform of geometry through his reading
of Hobbes, though he recognized the latter's mathematical inadequacies (GM., VI, 71-72).
But to Hobbes's effort to restore the Greek foundation to geometry, as against Cartesian
analysis, he added something entirely new and fruitful, the logical analysis of the conditions of
congruence and similarity and a rigorous synthesis of geometric truth with these determining
conditions. See p. 130, note 8.
a Huygens' Traite de la lumiere appeared in 1690. For Leibniz's analysis of refraction see No. SO.
4 The omitted paragraphs dealt with such mathematical problems as the solution of algebraic
equations with the aid of tables, exponential equations, and the inverse tangent problem.
5 John Joachim Becher (1635-82) was an alchemistic adventurer and a founder of the phlog-
iston theory. Leibniz aroused his enmity by exposing his alchemical claims at Hanover.
8 For example, analytic geometry assumes the Pythagorean theorem in deriving the funda-
mental formula for the distance between two points and for the properties of straight lines
based upon this.
7 (Y) is equivalent to Y1, Yz, Ya, etc.
8 Leibniz's parentheses indicate that the sentence contains an interpretation which is not a
part of the demonstration, since it assumes a straight line, which is still to be defined. See
note 10, below.
S That is, to determine any specific member of the family of circles of whose centers the
straight line AB is the locus.
10 That is, AY \:i BY. Leibniz thus defines the straight line as the locus of all points ( Y) whose
relations to three fixed points (in space) are congruent.
11 At this point the text in G M. becomes inaccurate and incomplete, and we follow the German
translation (BC., I, 83) in using the accurate text in Uylenbroeck's edition of Huygens' cor-
respondence.
The operational principles involved in determining the intersections which follow are (i) that
corresponding parts of congruent figures are congruent; (ii) that any point can be substituted
for another whose relations are congruent to its own; and (iii) that things congruent to the
same thing are congruent to each other.
12 This essay is undated but belongs to the geometric studies of this period. Cf. Couto L.,
pp.396-97.
18 Euclid's 3e3opiva or Data, which was edited by Marinus of Neapolis, a pupil of Proclus,
is discussed in Cantor, Vorlesungen fiber Geschichte der Mathematik (4th ed.), I, 282-83.
14 Note that Leibniz's definition of similarity can thus be derived from the principle of the
identity of indiscernibles, applied abstractly to those related qualities which are not observed
simultaneously or through a middle term, as his postulate requires.
15 This axiom relates Leibniz's analysis of similars in geometry with his more general theory
of definition and of analysis and synthesis explained in No. 25. Determinants are the components
of a concept adequate for its real definition. Note that the principle of equipollence (No. 205,
n. 3) is here applied to equate the relations in known detenninants to the relations sought - an
anticipation of its later application in the definition of continuity.
28
LETTER TO JOHN FREDERICK, DUKE OF

BRUNSWICK-HANOVER
Fall, 1679
The Treaty of Nijmegen, signed February 5,1679, and the concern of the reigning pope,
Innocent XI, for a moral deepening of the Church of Rome and a return of Protestants
from their apostasy, increased the spirit of tolerance between Catholic and Protestant
branches of Christendom. Leibniz believed the time ripe for a revival of his great apolo-
getic project, the Catholic Demonstrations, and he turned to his patron as the Catholic
prince whose support would make it the spearhead of an effort to bring about church
unity. The papal legate Spinola had visited Hanover for the second time with a message
from the pope, and Leibniz had begun his long correspondence on the terms ofunion with
Bossuet, whose Exposition de la foi de l'eglise catholique had won papal approval.
After John Frederick's death late in the same year, Leibniz shifted his efforts to win
princely patronage to another Catholic, Ernest of Hesse-Rheinfels, who was close to the
great thinker, Antoine Arnauld, whom Leibniz had first sought to interest in his proposal
(No. 10).
[PA., II, i, 487-88]
The departure of your serene highness and the conjuncture of the times compel me to
touch upon a matter which I have weighed carefully. But lost time and opportunity
never return, as I have already experienced on another occasion, and motives of piety
and the public good must take precedence over all other considerations.
Your serene highness should know, then, that I frequently examined the controver-
sies of theology most throroughly with the late Baron von Boineburg and that we
concluded at last that the Council of Trent can without difficulty be approved in its
entirety except for three or four passages. It seems to me that in order to avoid opinions
involving contradictions, we must give an interpretation to these which, I believe, is
contrary neither to the words nor to the opinions of the Catholic church, though it is
far removed from the common opinions of certain Scholastic theologians, especially
from those of the monks. To speak candidly and without reservations: since these men
have a great ascendancy over people's minds, as is testified by the trouble they gave
Galileo, I told him frankly that I should have no difficulty in submitting and in making
public avowal of this, if a declaration could be obtained from Rome assuring me that
these interpretations, which seemed to me the true ones, are at least tolerable and
contain nothing heretical or contrary to faith. Then, if this were done, I should set
about arranging everything in so clear a light that my work could perhaps contribute
something to reunion in its time.
The late Baron was enthusiastic about this proposal, and when I made my journey to
France, he gave me letters to Mr. Arnauld, for he believed that his opinions could

carry great weight. But in order not to show myself ill-timed, I moved with all possible
circumspection, and the death of the Baron came unexpectedly and removed my hope
of succeeding along this path. So I did not explain my views to Mr. Arnauld but from
that time on began to think of your serene highness, especially because I knew that the
Baron von Boineburg had planned to speak to you, for still more particular reasons
which I shall give in their place.
Now assuming that these declarations were obtained from Rome, I had formed the
plan of a work of first importance, which the Baron most heartily approved. Its title
was Catholic Demonstrations. It was to contain three parts. The first was to deal with
the demonstrations of the existence of God, of the immortality of the soul, and of all
natural theology; for I did in fact have some surprising ones. The second part was to be
about the Christian religion, or revealed theology, where I sought to demonstrate the
possibility of our mysteries and to meet all the objections of those who claim to show
the absurdity and the contradictions in the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Eucharist,
and the resurrection of the body. For the proofs of the Christian religion are only
moral, since it is impossible to give any other kind of proof in matters of fact. But
every proof which carries only moral certainty can be destroyed by stronger contrary
proofs; consequently, we must reply to objections in order to satisfy ourselves entirely,
since a single impossibility proved of our mysteries would destroy the whole structure.
The third part was to treat of the church; here I have convincing proofs that the church
hierarchy is of divine right, and I distinguish the limits of secular and ecclesiastical
power exactly. Churchmen themselves, namely, and all other men, owe an external
obedience to sovereigns, but only usque ad aras 1 , and at least an unreserved suffrance to
the rest. For example, the first Christians did not obey the most impious command-
ments of the pagan emperors, but they also did not oppose force to force. In exchange,
all men, including sovereigns, owe an interior obedience to the church, that is, an un-
reserved deference in matters of faith, as far as this is possible for them. (This reser-
vation is necessary, for if a man happens to believe that he sees a contradiction in what
the church commands him to believe, it will be impossible for him to have faith in it,
and he will be a heretic, though only materially. This alone will not prevent his being
saved.) So we see that we owe a passive obedience, or nonresistance, to sovereigns, and
an active obedience, so far as is in our power, to the church. In terms of these principles
I give an easy and clear solution to the most disturbing questions. 2
But in order to lay the basis for these great demonstrations, I plan to preface them
with the demonstrated elements of the true philosophy to help in understanding the main
work. We need a new logic in order to know degrees of probability, since this is
necessary in judging the proofs of matters of fact and of morals, where there are
unusually good reasons on both sides and we are concerned only to know on which side
to tip the scales. But the art of weighing probabilities is not yet even partly explained,
though it would be of great importance in legal matters and even in the management
of business. We must also push metaphysics further than has been done so far, in order
to have true notions of God and the soul, of person, substance, and accidents. And
unless we have a profounder insight into physics, we cannot meet the objections raised
against the history of creation, the deluge, and the resurrection of the body. 3 In short,
the true morality must be demonstrated, in order to learn what is justice, justification,
freedom, pleasure, happiness, and the beatific vision. And to conclude, nothing con-
forms more truly with a true politics and the true happiness of mankind, even here
below and in this life, than does my proposal about the inviolable and irresistible po-
wer of the sovereign over external goods and of the internal rule which God exercises
over souls through the church. It seems to me that I have already said to your serene
highness on other occasions that nothing is more useful for the general good than the
authority of a universal church which forms a body of all Christians, united by bonds
of charity, and which can hold in sacred respect the greatest powers on earth as long as
they are still sensible to the reproaches of their consciences. Every man of good will
[homme de bien] should therefore desire that the luster of the church may everywhere
be restored and that the spiritual power of its true ministers over the faithful may be
more fully recognized than is often done, even among those who would pass as the
most Catholic.
But disputes are more customary than demonstrations in philosophy, morals, and
theology, and most readers will have the prejudices about such a project that are usual
about works dealing with these matters; for it will be thought that the author has
merely transcribed and problematized and is probably a superficial mind little versed
in the mathematical sciences and consequently hardly capable of true demonstration.
In view of these considerations I have tried to disabuse everyone by pushing myself
ahead a little further than is common in mathematics, where I believe I have made
discoveries which have already received the general approval of the greatest men of the
day and which will appear with brilliance whenever I choose. This was the true reason
for my long stay in France - to perfect myself in this field and to establish my repu-
tation, for when I went there I was not yet much of a geometrician, which I needed to
be in order to set up my demonstrations in a rigorous way. So I want first to publish my
discoveries in analysis, geometry, and mechanics, and I venture to say that these will
not be inferior to those which Galileo and Descartes have given us. Men will be able
to judge from them whether I know how to discover and to demonstrate. I did not
study the mathematical sciences for themselves, therefore, but in order some day to
use them in establishing my credit and furthering piety.
There is another important thing in my philosophy which will give it access to the
Jesuits and other theologians. This is my restoration of substantial forms, which the
atomists and Cartesians claim to have exterminated. It is certain that without these
forms and the distinction that exists between them and real accidents, it is impossible
to explain our mysteries. For if the nature of body consists in extension, as Descartes
claims, it involves a contradiction, beyond all doubt, to maintain that a body may
exist in many places at once. But all that has been said about the essence of body until
now is unintelligible, and it is not surprising that substantial forms have been taken for
chimeras by the most able minds. What I shall say about them, among other things,
will instead be as intelligible as anything that the Cartesians have ever proposed about
other matters.
Finally, to render my demonstrations absolutely incontestable, and as certain as
anything that can be proved by arithmetical calculation, I shall offer an essay on my
new writing or characteristic or, if you prefer, language. This is undoubtedly one of the
greatest projects to which men have ever set themselves. It will be an instrument even
more useful to the mind than telescopes and microscopes are to the eyes. Every line
of this writing will be equivalent to a demonstration. The only fallacies will be easily
detected errors in calculation. This will become the great method of discovering
truths, establishing them, and teaching them irresistibly when they are established.

Nothing could be proposed that would be more important for the Congregation for
the Propagation of the Faith. For when this language is once established among
missionaries, it will spread at once around the world. It can be learned in several days
by using it and will be of the greatest convenience in general intercourse. And wherever
it is received, there will be no difficulty in establishing the true religion which is always
the most reasonable and in a word everything which I shall develop in my work on
Catholic Demonstrations. It will be as impossible to resist its sound reasoning as it is to
argue against arithmetic. You can judge what advantageous changes will follow
everywhere in piety and morals and in short, in increasing the perfection of mankind.
But to achieve this end, I shall certainly need great assistance, and I see no better
source for this than the Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith, which I
mentioned above.
All these projects, however, depend on the declarations from Rome, without which
I could not contentedly submit, since I should otherwise be obliged to admit things
which my demonstrations, and especially this characteristic, would refute in spite of
myself and all the world. To obtain these declarations in the easiest way, we must
undoubtedly act with great adroitness. There are many sides to everything, and the
way it is first seen determines much. The most harmless proposals have often been
rejected on false suspicions, and the most scabby ones accepted through the ability of
their supporters. Men often do not take the pains to examine matters thoroughly, and
however acceptable views may be, they are sometimes rejected at once on a false
prepossession, if they are not recommended from some quarters which are respected.
This is why I have concluded that it would be well to appeal to your most serene high-
ness, who could direct the matter so skilfully that no one could perceive anything
mysterious and raise difficulties where there are no true ones. This will be all the easier,
since the present pope is not only a good man, but enlightened and fair-minded as
well. 4
But there is still another outstanding reason which has obliged me to break silence
and to make this proposal now. This is a most important one, and particularly con-
cerns your serene highness. But since I cannot blurt it out suddenly, I shall speak of
it distinctly later. 5
REFERENCES
1 "As far as the altars."

2 This outline of the Catholic Demonstrations differs in no essentials from that of the Mainz
period given in PA., VI, i, 494-500 (cf. No.5), except that Parts I and II of the earlier plan have
been combined into a demonstration of natural religion.
S It may- be significant to note that Richard Simon's Histoire critique du Vieux Testament
had appeared in 1678, one of the important beginnings of modem biblical criticism.
4 Innocent XI, pope from 1676 to 1689, opponent of the Jesuits and zealous worker for moral
reform and the reconversion of Protestants.
6 Whatever this proposal may have been, it may never have been made, for John Frederick
died on December 18 of the same year, on his way to the carnival at Venice.
29
ON FREEDOM
Ca. 1679
On November 27, 1677, when he was stili occupied with Spinozistic approaches to meta-
physics, Leibniz had had a discussion 0/ freedom with the apostolic missionary Steno.
He had long been concerned with the problem. This paper, though undated, clearly belongs
to the period 0/1679 or the years/ol/owing, when his position is modified by the distinction
between necessary and contingent truths. It also presents a popular interpretation 0/ some
0/ the logical studies 0/ the period and relates them to the theological problems 0/ God's
omnipotence, human/reedom, and sin.
[F. de C., pp. 178-85]
One of the oldest doubts of mankind concerns the question of how freedom and
contingency are compatible with the chain of causes and with providence. And Chris-
tian investigations of the justice of God in accomplishing man's salvation have merely
increased the difficulty of the matter.
When I considered that nothing occurs by chance or by accident unless we resort to
certain particular substances, that fortune apart from fate is an empty word, and that
nothing exists unless certain conditions are fulfilled from all of which together its
existence at once follows, I found myself very close to the opinions of those who hold
everything to be absolutely necessary; believing that when things are not subject to
coercion even though they are to necessity, there is freedom, and not distinguishing
between the infallible, or what is known with certainty to be true, and the necessary.
But I was pulled back from this precipice by considering those possible things which
neither are nor will be nor have been.l For if certain possible things never exist,
existing things cannot always be necessary; otherwise it would be impossible for other
things to exist in their place, and whatever never exists would therefore be impossible.
For it cannot be denied that many stories, especially those we call novels, may be
regarded as possible, even if they do not actually take place in this particular sequence
of the universe which God has chosen - unless/someone imagines that there are certain
poetic regions in the infinite extent of space and time where we might see wandering
over the earth King Arthur of Great Britain, Amadis of Gaul, and the fabulous
Dietrich von Bern invented by the Germans. A famous philosopher of our century
does not seem to have been far from such an opinion, for he expressly affirms some-
where that matter successively receives all the forms of which it is capable (Principles 0/
Philosophy, Part III, Art. 47).2 This opinion cannot be defended, for it would oblite-
rate all the beauty of the universe and any choice of matters, not to mention here
other grounds on which the contrary can be shown.
Having thus recognized the contingency of things, I raised the further question of a
clear concept of truth, for I had a reasonable hope of throwing some light from this
upon the problem of distinguishing necessary from contingent truths. For I saw that

in every true affirmative proposition, whether universal or singular, necessary or con-

tingent, the predicate inheres in the subject or that the concept of the predicate is in
some way involved in the concept of the subject. I saw too that this is the principle of
infallibility for him who knows everything a priori. But this very fact seemed to in-
crease the difficulty, for, if at any particular time the concept of the predicate inheres in
the concept of the subject, how can the predicate ever be denied of the subject without
contradiction and impossibility, or without destroying the subject concept? A new and
unexpected light arose at last, however, where I least expected it, namely, from mathe-
matical considerations of the nature of the infinite. For there are two labyrinths in
which the human mind is caught. One concerns the composition of the continuum;
the other concerns the nature of freedom. And both arise from the same source,
namely, the infinite. 3 Since he could not unravel these two knots, or would not express
his opinions of them, the famous philosopher whom I cited above chose to cut them
with his sword, for he says (Principles 0/ Philosophy, Part I, Arts. 40 and 41) that we
can easily become involved in great difficulties if we try to reconcile God's foreordina-
tion with the freedom of the will but that we ought to refrain from such discussions
because we cannot comprehend the nature of God. In the same work (Part II, Art. 35)
he says that we ought not to doubt the infinite divisibility of matter, though we cannot
grasp it. But this will not do, for it is one thing not to comprehend a thing, but another
to comprehend its contradictory. It is therefore necessary at least to answer those
arguments from which it seems to follow that freedom and the infinite divisibility of
matter imply a contradiction.
It must be understood, then, that all created beings have a certain mark of the divine
infinity impressed upon them and that this is the source of many wonderful matters
which astound the human mind. For example, there is no portion of matter, however
tiny, in which there is not a world of creatures, infinite in number. And there is no
created substance, however imperfect, which does not act upon all the others and
suffer action from all the others, and whose complex concept as this exists in the divine
mind does not contain the whole universe, with all that ever is, has been, and will be.
And there is no truth of fact or of individual things which does not depend upon an
infinite series of reasons, though God alone can see everything that is in this series.
This is the cause, too, why only God knows the contingent truths a priori and sees
their infallibility otherwise than by experience.
A careful consideration of these matters revealed a very essential difference between
necessary and contingent truths. Every truth is either original or derivative. Original
truths are those for which no reason can be given; such are identities or immediate
truths, which affirm the same thing of itself or deny its contrary of its contrary. There
are in tum two genera of derivative truths, for some can be reduced to primary truths;
the others can be reduced in an infinite progression. The former are necessary; the
latter, contingent. A necessary proposition is one whose contrary implies a contra-
diction; such are all identities and all derivative truths reducible to identities. To this
genus belong the truths said to be of metaphysical or geometrical necessity. For to
demonstrate is merely, by an analysis of the terms of a proposition and the substitution
of the definition or a part of it, for the thing defined, to show a kind of equation or
coincidence of predicate and subject in a reciprocal proposition, or, in other cases, at
least an inclusion of the one in the other, so that what was concealed in the proposition
or was contained in it only potentially, is rendered evident or explicit by the demon-
stration. For example, if we understand by a ternary, a senary, and a duodenary,

numbers divisible by 3, 6, and 12, respectively, we can demonstrate this proposition:
Every duodenary is a senary. For every duodenary is a binary-binary-ternary, since
this is the reduction of a duodenary into its prime factors (12 = 2 x 2 x 3),4 or the
definition of a duodenary. But every binary-binary-ternary is a binary-ternary (this is
an identical proposition), and every binary-ternary is a senary (by the definition of a
senary, since 6 = 2 x 3). Therefore every duodenary is a senary (12 is the same as
2 x 2 x 3, and 2 x 2 x 3 is divisible by 2 x 3, and 2 x 3 is the same as 6; therfore 12 is
divisible by 6).
In contingent truths, however, though the predicate inheres in the subject, we can
never demonstrate this, nor can the proposition ever be reduced to an equation or an
identity, but the analysis proceeds to infinity, only God being able to see, not the end
of the analysis indeed, since there is no end, but S the nexus of terms or the inclusion of
the predicate in the subject, since he sees everything which is in the series. Indeed, this
truth itself arises in part from his intellect and in part from his will and so expresses
his infinite perfection and the harmony of the entire series of things, each in its own
particular way.
For us, however, there remain two ways of knowing contingent truths. The one is
experience; the other, reason. We known by experience when we perceive a thing
distinctly enough by our senses; by reason, however, when we use the general prin-
ciple that nothing happens without a reason, or that the predicate always inheres in the
subject by virtue of some reason. So we can consider it as certain that God has made
all things in the most perfect way, that he does nothing without a reason, and that
nothing ever happens without its reason being understood by anyone who understands
why the state of the world is as it is rather than otherwise. Sins arise from the aboriginal
limitation of things; but God does not so much decree sins as he does the admission
to existence of certain possible substances whose complete concept already involves
the possibility of their freely sinning, and even connotes the whole series of events in
which they figure as links. Nor should there be any doubt that God decrees only
perfection or what is positive, while limitation with the sin which arises from it, is per-
mitted only because it cannot be absolutely rejected if certain positive decrees are
maintained. Nothing else would be congruent with wisdom than to compensate sin
by a greater good that could not otherwise be obtained; but this cannot be discussed
here.
In order to fix our attention, however, so that our mind will not wrestle with vague
difficulties, an analogy comes to my mind between truths and proportions which
seems admirably to clarify the whole matter and put it in a clear light. Just as the
smaller number is contained in the larger in every proportion 6 (or an equal in its
equal), so in every truth the predicate is contained in the subject. And just as in every
proportion between homogeneous quantities an analysis of equal or proportional
terms can be carried out by subtracting the smaller from the larger, that is, taking
away from the larger a part equal to the smaller, then subtracting the rest from the
smaller, and so on, either until there is no remainder or to infinity; so also can we
establish an analysis of truths, always substituting for a term its equivalent, so that
the predicate will be resolved into elements already contained in the subject. But in
proportions the analysis may sometimes be completed, so that we arrive at a common
measure which is contained in both terms of the proportion an integral number of

times, while sometimes the analysis can be continued into infinity, as when comparing
a rational number with a surd; for instance, the side of a square with the diagonal. 7
Just so, truths are sometimes demonstrable or necessary, and sometimes free and
contingent, so that they cannot be reduced to identities as if to a common measure,
by any analysis. This is the essential distinction between truths as well as proportions.
Yet the science of geometry has mastered incommensurable proportions, and we
have demonstrations even about infinite series. All the more are contingent or infinite
truths subject to the knowledge of God and known by him, not by demonstration -
for this would involve contradiction - but by an infallible vision. But this vision of
God must not be thought of as a kind of empirical knowledge, as if he saw anything in
the things distinct from himself, but as a priori knowledge in which he grasps the
reasons for truths. For he sees possible things by considering his own essence; he
sees those that have a contingent existence by considering his free will and his de-
crees, the first of which is that everything shall work in the best manner and with the
highest reason. The so-called middle science is nothing but the knowledge of contin-
gent possibles. 8
When all these matters are considered thoroughly, I do not think any difficulty can
arise in this argument the solution of which cannot be derived from what has been
said. If we admit this general concept of necessity - and everyone does admit it - name-
ly, that all propositions are necessary whose contraries imply a contradiction, it is
easily seen from a consideration of the nature of demonstration and analysis that
there can and must be truths which cannot be reduced by any analysis to identities or
to the principle of contradiction but which involve an infinite series of reasons which
only God can see through. This is the nature of everything which is called free and
contingent and especially of everything which involves space and time. As I have
shown above, this follows from the very infinity of the parts of the universe and the
mutual interdependence and nexus of all things.
REFERENCES
1 See the distinction between possibility and compossibility made against Spinoza in No. 14,
II, and in No. 20. Cf. p. 205, notes 7 and 9.
2 This point is discussed in somewhat more detail in the letters to Philipp late in 1679 and early
in 1680 (No. 31), where the same passage is cited.
3 On the source and meaning of Leibniz's figure of the labyrinth see the Introduction, Sec.
V and p. 60, note 22.
4 Reading seu for sen.
5 Reading sed for sic; in the errata F. de C. givesseu.
6 Reading proportione for propositione. Leibniz's mathematical analogy will be simplified if
the reader thinks of a ratio rather than a proportion (see note 7 below).
7 Basically, Leibniz here considers truths as analogous to the relations between numbers in
the real number system, necessary truths corresponding to rational ratios between real numbers,
and contingent truths to ratios involving irrationals which can be resolved only serially. Thus
6{5 is perfectly analyzable by division, but V2 or n involves an infinite series.
8 On the middle science see the Introduction, Sec. V and p. 61, note 35.
30
"FIRST TRUTHS"
Ca. 1680-84
Among the papers of the period from 1679 to 1686 is this very important one, usually
designated by its opening words, primae veritates, which Couturat has used to support
his argument for the essentially logical foundation of Leibniz's metaphysics. 1 The student
will discover, however, that though the principles of metaphysics, including that of indi-
viduality, are here developed a priori, the paper moves by means of definitions from an
abstract principle of identity to more complete concepts and more concrete principles.
Many of these definitions are basically metaphysical in character.
The date is unknown. On the one hand, there are only references to the distinction
between truths of reason and offact and between necessity and contingency, a distinction
developed in detail in No. 29. On the other hand, the concepts and phrases of the Dis-
course of 1686 (No. 35) are already prominent, and Couturat considered it aforestudy
for that work.
[Cout. OF., pp. 518-23]
First truths are those which predicate something of itself or deny the opposite of its
opposite. For example, A is A, or A is not non-A; ifit is true that A is B, it is false that A
is not B or that A is non-B. Likewise, everything is what it is; everything is similar or
equal to itself; nothing is greater or less than itself. These and other truths of this kind,
though they may have various degrees of priority, can nevertheless all be grouped
under the one name of identities.
All other truths are reduced to first truths with the aid of definitions or by the ana-
lysis of concepts; in this consists proof a priori, which is independent of experience. 2
I shall give as example this proposition which is accepted as an axiom by mathemati-
cians and all other people alike: the whole is greater than its part, or the part is less
than the whole. This is very easily demonstrated from the definition ofless or greater,
with the addition of a primitive axiom or identity. For that is less which is equal to a
part of another thing (the greater). This definition is very easily understood and is
consistent with the general practice of men, when they compare things with each other
and measure the excess by subtracting an amount equal to the smaller from the greater.
Hence one may reason as follows. A part is equal to a part of the whole (namely, to
itself, by the axiom of identity, according to which each thing is equal to itself). But
what is equal to a part of a whole is less than the whole (by the definition of less).
Therefore the part is less than the whole.
The predicate or consequent therefore always inheres in the subject or antecedent.
And as Aristotle, too, observed, the nature of truth in general or the connection be-
tween the terms of a proposition consists in this fact. 3 In identities this connection and
the inclusion of the predicate in the subject are explicit; in all other propositions they

are implied and must be revealed through the analysis of the concepts, which consti-
tutes a demonstration a priori.
This is true, moreover, in every affirmative truth, universal or singular, necessary or
contingent, whether its terms are intrinsic or extrinsic denominations. 4 Here lies hid-
den a wonderful secret which contains the nature of contingency or the essential
distinction between necessary and contingent truths and which removes the difficulty
involved in a fatal necessity determining even free things.
These matters have not been adequately considered because they are too easy, but
there follow from them many things of great importance. At once they give rise to the
accepted axiom that there is nothing without a reason, or no effect without a cause. Oth-
erwise there would be truth which could not be proved a priori or resolved into iden-
tities - contrary to the nature of truth, which is always either expressly or implicitly
identical. 5 It follows also that if the data contained a pair of identically related sets
so will the consequences or quaesita. For no difference can be accounted for unless its
reason is found in the data. 6 A corollary, or better, an example, of this is the postu-
late of Archimedes stated at the beginning of his book on the balance - that if the
arms of a balance and its weights are supposed equal, everything will be in equilibrium.
This also gives a reason for eternal things. If it be assumed that the world has existed
from eternity and has contained only spheres, a reason should have to be given why it
contains spheres rather than cube~.
It follows also that there cannot be two individual things in nature which differ only
numerically. For surely it must be possible to give a reason why they are different, and
this must be sought in some differences within themselves. Thus the observation of
Thomas Aquinas about separate intelligences, which he declared never differ in number
alone, must be applied to other things also. 7 Never are two eggs, two leaves, or two
blades of grass in a garden to be found exactly similar to each other. So perfect sim-
ilarity occurs only in incomplete and abstract concepts, where matters are conceived,
not in their totality but according to a certain single viewpoint, as when we consider
only figures and neglect the figured matter. So geometry is right in studying similar
triangles, even though two perfectly similar material triangles are never found. And
although gold or some other metal, or salt, and many liquids, may be taken for homo-
geneous bodies, this can be admitted only as concerns the senses and not as if it were
true in an exact sense.
It follows further that there are no purely extrinsic denominations which have no
basis at all in the denominated thing itself. For the concept of the denominated subject
necessarily involves the concept of the predicate. Likewise, whenever the denomination
of a thing is changed, some variation has to occur in the thing itself.
The complete or perfect concept of an individual substance involves all its predicates,
past,present, andfuture. For certainly it is already true now that a future predicate will
be a predicate in the future, and so it is contained in the concept of the thing. There-
fore there is contained in the perfect individual concepts of Peter or Judas, considered
as merely possible concepts and setting aside the divine decree to create them, every-
thing that will happen to them, whether necessarily or freely. And all this is known by
God. Thus it is obvious that God elects from an infinity of possible individuals those
whom he judges best suited to the supreme and secret ends of his wisdom. In an exact
sense, he does not decree that Peter should sin or Judas be damned but only that, in
preference to other possible individuals, Peter, who will sin - certainly, indeed, yet not
necessarily but freely - and Judas, who will suffer damnation - under the same condi-
tion - shall come into existence, or that the possible concept shall become actual.
And although the future salvation of Peter is contained in his eternal possible notion,
yet this is not without the help of grace, for in the same perfect notion of this possible
Peter, there are contained as possibilities the helps of the divine grace to be granted to
him.
Every individual substance involves the whole universe in its perfect concept, and all
that exists in the universe has existed or will exist. For there is no thing upon which
some true denomination, at least of comparison or relation, cannot be imposed from an-
other thing. Yet there is no purely extrinsic denomination. 8 I have shown the same
thing in many other ways which are in harmony with each other.
All individual created substances, indeed, are different expressions of the same universe
and of the same universal cause, God. But these expressions vary in perfection as do
different representations or perspectives of the same city seen from different points.
Every created individual substance exerts physical action and passion on all others.
For if a change occurs in one, some corresponding change results in all others, because
their denomination is changed. This is confirmed by our experience of nature, for we
observe that in a vessel full of liquid (the whole universe is such a vessel) a motion made
in the middle is propagated to the edges, though it may become more and more
insensible as it recedes farther from its origin.
It can be said that, speaking with metaphysical rigor, no created substance exerts a
metaphysical action or influence upon another. For to say nothing of the fact that it
cannot be explained how anything can pas~ over from one thing into the substance of
another it has already been shown that all the future states of each thing follow from its
own concept. What we call causes are in metaphysical rigor only concomitant requisites.
This is illustrated by our experiences of nature, for bodies in fact recede from other
bodies by force of their own elasticity and not by any alien force, although another
body has been required to set the elasticity (which arises from something intrinsic to
the body itself) working. 9
If the diversity of soul and body be assumed, their union can be explained from this
without the common hypothesis of an influx, which is unintelligible, and without the
hypothesis of occasional causes, which calls upon a God ex machina. For God has
equipped both soul and body from the beginning with such great wisdom and work-
manship that through the original constitution and essence of each, everything which
happens in one corresponds perfectly to whatever happens in the other, just as if
something had passed over from the one into the other. I call thi.; the hypothesis of
concomitance. This is true of all the substances in the whole universe but is not per-
ceptible in all as it is in the soul and body.
There is no vacuum. For the different parts of empty space would be perfectly similar
and congruent with each other and could not by themselves be distinguished. So they
would differ in number alone, which is absurd. Time too may be proved not to be a
thing, in the same way as space.
There is no corporeal substance in which there is nothing but extension, or magnitude,
figure, and their variations. For otherwise there could exist two corporeal substances
perfectly similar to each other, which is absurd. Hence it follows that there is some-
thing in corporeal substances analogous to the soul, which is commonly called form. 10
There are no atoms; indeed, there is no body so small that it is not actually subdivi-

ded. By this very fact, since it is affected by all other things in the entire world and
receives some effect from all, which must cause a change in the body, it has even
preserved all past impressions and anticipates the future ones. If anyone says that this
effect is contained in the motions impressed on the atom, which receives the effect in
toto without any division in it, it can be replied that not only must an effect in the
atom result from all the impressions of the universe but conversely, the entire state
of the universe must be gathered from the atom. Thus the cause can be inferred from
the effect. But from the figure and motion of the atom alone, we cannot by regression
infer what impressions have produced the given effect on it, since the same motion can
be caused by different impressions, not to mention the fact that we cannot explain
why bodies of a definite smallness should not be further divisible.
Hence it follows that every small part of the universe contains a world with an infinite
number of creatures. But a continuum is not divided into points, nor is it divided in
all possible ways. It is not divided into points, because points are not parts but lim-
its. It is not divided in all possible ways, because not all creatures are in the same
part, but only a certain infinite progression of them. Thus, if you bisect a straight
line and then any part of it, you will set up different divisions than if you trisect it.
There is no actual determinate figure in things, for none can satisfy the infinity of
impressions. So neither a circle nor an ellipse nor any other line definable by us exists
except in our intellect, or if you prefer, before the lines are drawn or their parts
distinguished. i i
Space, time, extension, and motion are not things but well-founded modes of our
consideration.
Extension, motion, and bodies themselves, insofar as they consist in extension and
motion alone, are not substances but true phenomena, like rainbows and parhelia.
For figures do not exist in reality and if only their extension is considered, bodies are
not one substance but many.
For the substance of bodies there is required something which lacks extension;
otherwise there would be no principle to account for the reality of the phenomena or
for true unity. There would always be a plurality of bodies, never one body alone; and
therefore there could not, in truth, be many. By a similar argument Cordemoi proved
the existence of atoms. But since these have been excluded, there remains only
something that lacks extension, something like the soul, which was once called a form
or species. 12
Corporeal substance can neither come into being nor perish except through creation or
annihilation. For, once it does last, it will last always, for there is no reason for a
change. Nor does the dissolution of a body have anything in common with its des-
struction. Therefore ensouled beings neither begin nor perish; they are only transformed.
REFERENCES
1 'Sur la metaphysique de Leibniz (avec un opuscule inedit)" Revue de metaphysique et de

morale 10 (1902) 1-25.
2 Limiting itself to the a priori derivation of metaphysical principles, this paper illustrates
Leibniz's inclination to view the universe from God's viewpoint rather than man's. Thus his
failure to point out the empirical element which actually enters into his definitions and the
assumptions implicit in them.
3 On the Aristotelian source of this principle, and Leibniz's interpretation of it, see p. 60,
note 5.
4 See Introduction, Sec. V, and the correspondence with De VoIder (No. 54). There has been
a tendency to interpret Leibniz's doctrine that there are no purely extrinsic denominations,
expressed later in this paper, as an assertion of the internality of all relations, though it is some-
times accompanied with a distinction rather like G. E. Moore's between external relations and
relational properties. Leibniz often says, it is true, that the relations between substances are
added by the perceiving mind, as the term 'denomination' suggests. But in general, there are
real relations between monads - those of representation - but every representative act involves
an internal or intrinsic quality in the perceiving monad. The issue involves the nature of
oblique relations discussed in note 246 on p. 3.
5 That all truth is resolvable to identities is the assumption which Leibniz does not prove.
That there are identities involved in all truth is one thing; that truth reduces to them, another,
which presupposes the existence of perfect essence.
6 Cf. p. 258, note 15. The axiom in No. 27, ill, and this are the first explicit statements, in
these selections, of the principle of functional dependence, which becomes so important in
Leibniz's conception of scientific method. Most compactly stated, the law is datis ordinatis,
etiam quaesita sunt ordinata ("As the data are ordered, so the unknowns [or sought] are also
ordered") (No. 37), and the law of continuity is usually interpreted by Leibniz in this functional
sense.
7 Summa theol., i, quest. 50, ad 4. Cf. Discourse, Sec. 9 (No. 35).
8 After 1683 Antoine Arnauld was asserting, in controversy with Malebranche, that percep-
tions are essential modifications of the soul but that the soul can perceive external and even
eternal objects. Leibniz himself anticipated this view with his own to the effect that external
relations depend upon internal qualities or modes.
9 The distinction between physical action and metaphysical action is striking here; the theory
of physical action between substances cannot be sustained after the nature of the monad is
restricted to appetite and perception and after the physical studies of the 1690's. For the
functional definition of external causality between substances see the Discourse, Sec. 15.
10 Forms are active principles. In an essay from the same period, called by Erdmann 'On the
True Method of Dealing with Philosophy and Theology', Leibniz wrote, after criticizing Des-
cartes's theory of matter: "What then shall we add to extension to complete the concept of
body? Certainly nothing which sense does not verify. Sense, namely, establishes three things
at once: that we sense; that bodies are sensed; and that what is sensed is varied and composite,
or extended. To the concept of extension or variety, therefore, is to be added that of action. A
body is therefore an extended agent. It can be said that it is an extended substance, only if it be
held that all substance acts, and all agents are substances. It can be shown adequately from the
essential principles of metaphysics that what does not act does not exist, for there is no power
of acting without a beginning of action. You say there is no little power in a bent bow, yet it
does not act. But I say, on the contrary, that it does act; even before it is suddenly released,
it strives. But all striving [conatus] is action. For the rest, much that is excellent and certain
can be said about the nature of conatus and the principles of action, or as the Scholastics called
it, of substantial forms" (G., VII, 326-27).
11 Existence could therefore be derived analytically only through an infinite analysis. Insofar
as they conform to logical laws, our scientific formulas apply exactly only to incomplete or
abstract concepts, but they are incomplete simplifications of existence and therefore do not
determine it completely.
12 Gerauld de Cordemoi, Le Discernement de I'time et du corps (1666).
31
SELECTIONS FROM LEIBNIZ'S CORRESPONDENCE

1679-84
The reign of Ernest August and his wife Sophia, 1680-97, was a period of aggressive
political advancement for the Duchy of Hanover. Within the Empire it was elevated to an
electorate. Marriage alliances with Celle, Prussia, Austria, and Modena shifted and
strengthened political ties. Plans were laid in behalf of Sophia for the English succession.
1n the promotion of these aims Leibniz's efforts, too, were distracted from his intellectual
projects and largely absorbed in the historical studies, diplomatic briefs, and efforts
for church union which were involved in the ambitions of his patrons. 1n the years from
1681 to 1685 he was also engaged in the unsuccessful engineering project of freeing
the Harz silver mines of excess water.
The following selections are from his wide correspondence with scholars and men of
affairs. They contain criticisms of the thought of others and reflect his efforts to gain
general and influential support for his own ideas.
I. TO CHRISTIAN PHILIPP 1
[G., IV, 281-82]
Early December, 1679
As concerns the philosophy of Descartes, about which you ask my opinion, I hesitate
to say absolutely that it leads to atheism. It is true that he says some things which I,
who have studied him thoroughly, strongly suspect. For example, the two passages to
the effect that one should not consider final causes in physics and that matter takes on,
successively, all the forms of which it is capable. 2 There is an admirable passage in
Plato's Phaedo in which he justly blames Anaxagoras for the same thing which di~
pleases me in Mr. Descartes. 3 For my part, I believe that the laws of mechanics which
serve as foundation for the whole system depend on final causes, that is to say, on the
wiII of God determined to do what is most perfect, and that matter takes on not all
possible forms but only the most perfect ones. Otherwise we should have to say that
there will be a time in which everything wiII be badly ordered, which is far removed
from the perfection of the Author of all things. For the rest, if Descartes had relied
less on his imaginary hypotheses and been more attached to experience, I believe that
his physics would have been worth following, for it must be admitted that he had
great penetration. As for his geometry and analysis, it is far from being as perfect as is
claimed by those who have only applied themselves to the solution of minor problems.
There are several errors in his metaphysics, and he did not know the genuine source of
truths or the general analysis of concepts. In my opinion Jung understood this better
than did he. 4 Yet I admit that it is very useful and instructive to read Descartes, and I
prefer, beyond comparison, to deal with a Cartesian rather than with a partisan of some
other school. In short, I consider this philosophy as the antechamber to the true one.
II. TO PHILIPP
[G., IV, 283-84]
End of January, 1680
... I esteem Mr. Descartes almost as much as one can esteem any man, and though
there are among his opinions some which seem false to me, and even dangerous, this
does not keep me from saying that we owe nearly as much to Galileo and to him in
philosophical matters as to the whole of antiquity. At present I recall only one of the
two dangerous propositions, the location of which you want me to indicate. It is in the
Principles ofPhilosophy, Part III, Article 47, in the following words:
And after all, it makes very little difference what we assume in this respect, because it must
later be changed according to the laws of nature. Hardly anything can be assumed from which
the same effect cannot be derived, though perhaps with greater trouble. For due to these laws,
matter takes on, successively, all the forms of which it is capable. Therefore if we considered
these forms in order, we could eventually arrive at that one which is our present world, so that
in this respect no false hypothesis can lead us into error.
I do not believe that a more dangerous proposition than this could be formulated. For
if matter takes on, successively, all possible forms, it follows that nothing can be
imagined so absurd, so bizarre, so contrary to what we call justice, that it would not
have happened and will not some day happen. These are precisely the opinions which
Spinoza has expounded more clearly, namely, that justice, beauty, and order are things
merely relative to us but that the perfection of God consists in that magnitude of his
activity by virtue of which nothing is possible or conceivable which he does not actu-
ally produce. These are also the opinions of Mr. Hobbes, who asserts that everything
that is possible is either past or present or future, and there will be no place for trust
in providence if God produces everything and makes no choice among possible beings.
Mr. Descartes was careful not to speak so plainly, but he could not keep from reveal-
ing his opinions incidentally, with such adroitness that he will be understood only by
those who examine such matters carefully. In my opinion, this is the 'first falsehood'
and the basis of atheistic philosophy, though it always seems to say the most beautiful
things about God. The true philosophy, on the contrary, must give us an entirely
different concept of God's perfection, one that will be of use in both physics and ethics.
For my part, I hold that far from excluding final causes from physics, as Mr. Descartes
tries to do in Part I, Article 28, it is rather by means of them that everything must be
determined, since the efficient cause of things is intelligent, having a will and therefore
striving for the good. But this too differs from Descartes's opinion, since goodness,
truth, and justice are such, according to him, only because God has established them
by a free act of his will- a most strange thing. For if things are good or evil only as the
result of God's will, the good cannot be a motive of his will, being posterior to his will.
His will, then, would be a certain absolute decree, without any reason .... 5
III. TO FRAN<';OIS DE LA CHAISE 6

[PA., II, i, 511-12]
May, 1680 (?)
Most reverend Father,
I have always contemplated an art of discovery, and I believe I have made most

unusual beginnings toward it. Algebra is but one example of it. I have a new kind of
geometry as different from Mr. Descartes's as his is from the geometry of the ancients.
For as Descartes has added supersolid lines and problems, or even problems of the
fifth, sixth, seventh, and higher degrees to the plane and solid lines and problems of
the ancients, so I have added transcendental problems which are of no degree, or
rather of all degrees at once, to his. Of this kind is the cutting of an angle in a given
ratio, or also the trigonometry without tables which I have, as well as the true area of a
. 1·
clrc .
e 10 ratlOna I num bers. Thi·
s IS I1 - :31 + 5
1 - ;;1 + 9
1 - iT1 +, etc., when the
diameter or its square is 1. It is impossible to give the area in a single number, but this
is its true value and contains at once all the approximations to it. I believe that men
will now stop the useless effort to find the true ratio, which is none other than this.
When the nicest problems of mechanics are reduced to the terms of pure geometry 7,
one will usually find a transcendental problem where the geometry of Descartes is
insufficient. I can give numberless examples of this.
Until now the problems of mechanics could not be reduced to those of pure geo-
metry, for the laws of motion had not been fixed. Now I have found a way of deter-
mining them all by a reductio ad absurdum. I demonstrate the rules of motion, in the
same way that geometricians demonstrate their theorems, by showing that the con-
trary would imply that a thing is greater than itself; I show that to assume the contrary
would make a thing more powerful than itself, that is to say, it would be possible to
establish purely mechanical perpetual motion. 8 By this same method I demonstrate
that Mr. Descartes's rules of motion are impossible. I believe that it can now be said
that we have at last achieved pure mathematics, that is, mathematics which contains
only numbers, figures, and motions; the rest will be a mere exercise for youngsters in
developing their reason. For posterity there will remain only the task of turning its
serious attention to physics. Perhaps we could also go much further in medicine, even
in our own time, if we were to attack it in a better way. It depends only on a great king,
like your own, to achieve this. For it seems to me that there is an analysis in physics as
certain as that in geometry, not for the purpose of determining what experiments are
fitting - for that is where chance plays a part, though one could still perform the pro-
posed experiments by this method - but to draw from given experiments everything
that an angelic spirit could draw from them and to determine those which remain to
be made in order to resolve our doubts.
I am greatly surprised that those who are called Cartesians have done almost
nothing since the death of their master, who was undoubtedly a great man, though not
as great as they think. Having considered everything, I find that we should retain the
philosophy of Aristotle, St. Thomas, and that taught in your society: namely, that
there are substantial forms and that the nature of body consists, not in extension, but
in an action which is related to the extended, for I hold that there can be no body
without effort. It follows from this that non corpus necessario determinatae extensionis
esse sed ad eam habendam inclinari nisi superior potentia impediat. 9 If explained
reasonably, this is in perfect agreement with the common philosophy, and the mystery
of the Eucharist can be supported by it admirably. Those who believe that there is no
difference between body and extension cannot defend this doctrine, though they say
that the same body can be in many places.
I am having my arithmetical machine worked on. It is entirely different from
Pascal's and from the sticks of Napier.... At present I am very busy, working out
something that will succeed in drawing the water from our mines in the Harz.....
IV. TO VEIT LUDWIG VON SECKENDORplO

[PA., II, i, 533]
June 1/11, 1683
Since you mention Blaise Pascal and Peter Daniel Huet l1 , whose writings in
defense of religion deserve praise, I shalI telI you some things which I have learned
about them. I have often spoken with Huet and saw his work when it existed only in
manuscript; I have since received letters from him here in Germany. Pascal had re-
cently died when I lived in Paris, but his sister was there, a learned and clever woman,
and also his nephews, the sons of his sister,l2 I had many associations with them, as
welI as with the illustrious Duke de Roanez, who had been a close associate of Pascal's
and had been much influenced by these studies. From them I received some of Pascal's
unpublished works to read, though they were mostly mathematical. I also learned
some things about his life and the brilliant plans which he pursued for the propagation
of piety; these I shall be able to relate more fully elsewhere. I will say one thing. Pascal
paid attention only to moral arguments, such as he excellently presented in his little
posthumous book of Thoughts, but he did not put much value on the metaphysical
arguments which Plato and St. Thomas, and other philosophers and theologians, have
used in proving the divine existence and the immortality of the soul. In this I do not
agree with him. I think that God speaks to us, not merely in sacred and civil history, or
even in natural history, but also internally, within our mind, through truths which
abstract from matter and are eternal. Even if I should confess that these arguments
have not been carried to the full force of a complete demonstration, they already seem
to have as much force as the moral arguments; and I believe that men will gradually
perfect them and that sometime, perhaps, they can be reduced to a rigorous demon-
stration. So I think we should disdain nothing which can be of use to us, even if alI
things are not useful to alI men, and that each one should use those things rightly
which best fit his own purpose.
I do not think that Huet followed Pascal's Thoughts but that he anticipated their
publication a long time in preparing his own work. His preface, if I am not mistaken,
hints at nothing else, and since the whole basis of his work is his proof that the pro-
phecies have been fulfilIed in Jesus Christ - arguments which the apostles themselves
had already used but which he enriched with great learning and his many brilliant
observations - I do not see how he can well be said to have followed Pascal.
V. TO WALTER VON TSCHIRNHAUS

[PA., II, i, 541-42]
November (?), 1684
... In Holland they are now disputing, loudly and soundly, whether beasts are machines.
People are even amusing themselves by ridiculing the Cartesians for imagining that a
dog that is clubbed cries in the same way as a bagpipe which is pressed. As for me,
though I grant the Cartesians that all external actions of beasts can be explained
mechanically, I nevertheless believe that beasts have some knowledge and that there

is something in them, not itself extended, which can be called a soul, or jf you prefer,
a substantial form ....
... I am astonished that Mr. Arnauld and Mr. Malebranche, who were such good
friends when I was in Paris, are now attacking each other in their writings. 13 I have not
yet read the books they have directed against each other, but so far as I can judge by
their other works, Father Malebranche has much spirit but Mr. Arnauld writes with
more judgment. There are many nice thoughts in the Recherche de la verite, but the
author is far from having penetrated very deeply into analysis and the art of discovery
in general. I could not help laughing when I saw that he thinks that algebra is the first
and most sublime science and that truth is nothing but a relation of equality and
inequality; that arithmetic and algebra are the only sciences which give the mind all
the perfection and extension of which it is capable; and finally, that arithmetic and
algebra together are the true logic. Yet I do not see that he himself has a great know-
ledge of algebra. The praise he bestows upon it should be given to symbolics in general,
of which algebra is only a very particular and limited example.
REFERENCES
1 Philipp was the agent of the elector of Saxony in Hamburg and became librarian in Dresden
in 1682. His interest in Descartes evoked Leibniz's criticism.
2 For the specific references in Descartes's Principles see the following letter.
3 Leibniz had written a paraphrase of the Phaedo in Paris and frequently cited and quoted this
particular passage (Phaedo, 97-99) afterward. Cf. Discourse, Sec. 20, etc. (No. 35).
4 On Jung see p.130, note 4, and p. 227, note 5.
5 A criticism of Descartes's voluntarism follows. The whole letter is translated in The Philoso-
phical Works of Leibnitz (trans. G. M. Duncan), New Haven, Conn., 1908.
6 La Chaise, the probable addressee of this letter, was the Jesuit father-confessor of Louis XIV.
Leibniz was neglecting no approach to princes or pope for the theological approval he sought.
His diplomatic flattery of Jesuit theology at the very time he was seeking Arnauld's support
reveals the courtier at his most expedient.
7 The context indicates that this is not the new geometry of location (No. 27) but the algebraic
analysis of transcendental functions after the pattern of Descartes's geometry. In spite of his
recent emphasis on force (cf. p. 271, note 10), Leibniz here seems to be thinking of the analysis
of motion only.
8 The test of Descartes's theory and laws of motion is developed in Nos. 34,42, and 46.
9 "A body is not necessarily of determinate extension but is inclined toward having one unless
a stronger force impedes it." See the concluding paragraphs of No. 30.
10 Privy counsellor of Brandenburg and chancellor of the university at Halle; a distinguished
scholar and statesman.
11 Together with Bossuet, Peter Daniel Huet was responsible for the education of the Dauphin
and edited the celebrated classics In usum Delphini, for which Leibniz had worked on an edition
of Martianus Capella while in Paris. The work here referred to is Huet's Demonstratio
evangelica ad serenissimum Delphinum, Paris 1679. He was made bishop of Avranches after
1692. He had mediated the correspondence between Leibniz and Bossuet when it began in 1679.
12 Pascal died in 1662. The sister referred to was Gilberte, Mme Perier, who had cared for him
until his death.
13 This controversy had begun with Arnauld's Des vraies et des fausses idees (1683); by the
time of this letter Malebranche had published a Reponse (1684) and Arnauld a Defense (1684).
Leibniz's notes on the controversy may be found in A. Robinet, Malebranche et Leibniz
(Paris, 1955).
32
ON THE ELEMENTS OF NATURAL SCIENCE*

Ca. 1682-84
Over 50 years ago Ernst Gerland published what was obviously a preliminary plan made
by Leibniz in his early years at Hanover for a small work entitled the Elementa physicae
(Ger., pp. 110-13). In a note Gerland expressed regret that Leibniz did not pursue this
project, which promised so much. He seems not have observed that the folder of ten folio
sheets of manuscript at Hanover among which he found the plan contained an extensive
draft of a proposed popular introduction to the work, which was obviously intended for
the two projects toward which he worked for so long - the encyclopedia and the Catholic
Demonstrations. 1 We here offer translations of the prospectus published by Gerland
(I) and of the Introduction (II), which is concerned with the human values of science and
an account of the method of analysis and synthesis as it is used in the investigation of cor-
poreal phenomena. As such it may well be regarded, not merely as one of the earliest
attempts to give a popular introduction to science, but as a realistic companion piece to
Nos. 25 and 33, with an objective reference to things and their attributes rather than to
ideas. Leibniz's account of the significance ofphysical science is still timely. The influence
ofFrancis Bacon, and particularly of Robert Boyle, is obvious.
Both parts are here translated from the manuscript in Hanover; the Introduction has
not yet been published in the original Latin.
I. THE PLAN OF THE BOOK

[Bod. LH., XXXVII, iv, 9-10]
A small book is to be written on the Elements of Natural Science. To it may be added
a description of phosphorus [pyropum], i.e., ofthe noctiluca which is a fire which does
not consume and at the same time needs no fuel. 2
Our natural science will deal not with observations or a description 3 of nature but
with principles [rationes] or with qualities and with what follows from the principles
necessarily or with certainty per se (that is, if nothing impedes them). For only later
will it be necessary to apply these reasonings to observations. The first part will there-
fore deal with qualities, but the second will deal with the subjects of qualities or with
bodies which exist in the world, where description is combined with reasoning. Thus
we shall deal with body and with its qualities, both the intelligible ones which we con-
ceive distinctly and the sensible ones which we perceive confusedly.4
A body is extended, mobile, and resistant; that is, it is that which can act and suffer
insofar as it is extended - acting when it is in motion, suffering when it resists motion.
There are thus to be considered, first, extension; next, motion; and, third, resistance or
impact.
Extended is what has size and situation [situs]. Size is the mode by which all the
parts of a thing, or all the entities by means of which the thing can be understood, are

determined. Situation is the mode of determining with which qualities a thing can be
perceived.
The size of a thing is known exactly when the number of its parts is known which are
congruent with some given measure. We must therefore deal with numbers, both with
those that are definite or defined and which belong to arithmetic and those which are
indefinite, belonging to algebra. Here we shall deal with equality and ratio. For those
things are equal which can be made congruent, and ratio is to equality as number is to
unity.
The situation of parts among themselves is called figure. From this can be derived
similars, which can be distinguished only if they are perceived together. Homogeneous
things, however, are those which can be reduced to similars. All things that are similar
and equal are congruent. 5
Before dealing with figure, we must deal with space itself and with the point; with
the sphere and the intersection of two spheres or the circle; with the plane and the
intersection of two planes or the straight line; with the intersection of three spheres or
the point. From this it is clear why the position of a point is given if its distance from
three other points and a plane besides is given, since three spheres can intersect in two
points. Thus we shall also find the nature of a straight line and why two straight lines
cannot have only two points in common. Thus a demonstration of the Elements [0/
Geometry] wiII now be easy. And so far this wiII involve a consideration of figures
without any recourse to motion. 6
There follows then motion or change of situation; here the method of generating the
circle and the straight line. Here we shall explicate the tomatorial science, or the
science of the traces of motions. 7 On the method of getting a straight line, a plane, a
sphere, a cone, the conic sections and their delineations on a plane; on still more
complex figures; on the varied composition of motions.
On impact or on motion and resistance combined. Here we deal with various ma-
chines, wheels, and vessels. 8
It is then to be demonstrated that space is indefinitely extended, for there can be no
reason why it should end anywhere, because whatever can be concluded about any
particular thing can likewise be concluded about anything similar to it. So one can
conclude about a greater circle only what has already been concluded about a smaller.
It is therefore impossible to designate any sphere beyond which no space exists. For
if there were any reason for such a sphere, the same reason would be correspondingly
valid for all other spheres. God, however, does nothing without reason.
It is to be demonstrated also that every body is actually divided into smaller parts,
or that there are no atoms, and that no actual continuum can be pointed out in any
body. From the nature of this division arise fluidity and firmness. Empty space can in
no way be distinguished from the perfectly fluid. There is no perfectly fluid body.
There is no vacuum. In introducing his subtle matter, Descartes has done away with
the vacuum in name only.
There follows now a discussion of incorporeal matters. Certain things take place in
a body which cannot be explained from the necessity of matter alone. Such are the
laws of motion, which depend upon the metaphysical principle of the equality of cause
and effect. Therefore we must deal here with the soul and show that all things are
animated. Without soul or form of some kind, body would have no being, because
no part of it can be designated which does not in tum consist of more parts. Thus
nothing could be designated in a body which could be called 'this thing', or a unity. On
the nature of soul or form; that there is a kind of perception and appetite which are
the passions and actions of the soul. And why; because souls result from God's
knowledge of things, or they are imitations of the ideas. All souls are indestructible,
but those especially are immortal which are citizens in the commonwealth of the
universe, or those to whom God is not merely author but also king, for to them he is
connected by an entirely special basis, and they are therefore called minds. These
minds never forget themselves. They alone think of God and have distinct conceptions
of things. It is improper to try to ascribe perception to man alone. Since all bodies are
able to have some perception according to the measure of their perfection, they 'will
have it, for whatever can happen without detriment to other things will in fact happen,
because everything occurs in the most perfect way. Here too can be explained the na-
ture of joy and grief, which is merely the perception of one's own success or perfection.
Thus when a striving [conatus] is satisfied, the result is success; when it meets resist-
ance, there arises grief. There are as many mirrors of the universe as there are minds, for
every mind perceives the whole universe, but confusedly.
Next we must deal with force or power. Here it must be recognized that it is to be
estimated from the quantity of its effect. But the power of the effect and of the cause
are equal to each other, for if the effect were greater, we should have mechanical per-
petual motion, while if it were less, we should not have continuous [perpetuus] physical
motion. It is worth showing here that the same quantity of motion cannot be conserved
but that the same quantity of power is. Yet we must see whether there will not also be
conserved in the universe the same quantity of motion also. 9
On perturbations and restitutions; on the vibratory motions arising from these.
On the isochronism of free and of all kinds of vibrations. That the times are thus
proportional to the forces. In every machine or composite structure the power tends
at a constant ratio toward restitution.
On weight or the solidity of a body and on the center of gravity. It is shown that
there is a center of gravity in every body.
On elastic force. On magnetic force. On impacts and reflections.
On degrees of firmness; on fluid, rigid, flexible, tenacious bodies. On the motion of
a solid in a fluid.
On refraction in the transition from one fluid to another. All things seem in fact to
be fluid but merely variously folded into each other without a break in the conti-
nuity.
On what follows from certain definite laws of reflection and refraction. iO On tense
bodies and their pulsations and vibrations.
On a fluid within a fluid; a fluid within a solid which it cannot escape; a fluid outside
a solid which it cannot enter; a permeating fluid.
On an elastic fluid and the propagation of vibrations in it; and on bodies emitting
the same tones.
We must treat of meteors, crystals, and other bodily configurations. ii
It will be best to postpone the details of definition and demonstration a little and to
explain everything continuously and in clear language. So we will proceed as follows:
Since our happiness consists in the perfection of the mind, but our mind is in this
life affected in various ways by its body, and the human body is brought to enjoy and
to suffer by other environing bodies, it follows that to know the nature of bodies

should be considered a large part of wisdom, to the end that we may avoid their
harmful, but experience their friendly, force ....
II. AN INTRODUCTION ON THE VALUE AND METHOD

OF NATURAL SCIENCE
[LHS, XXXVII, iv, 1-6]
On the utility of natural science
Every science is to be sought after, not for the the sake of curiosity or ostentation, but
for the sake of action. However, we act to attain happiness or a state of enduring joy,
and joy is the sense of perfection. Every thing is to be held as more perfect to the
degree that it is freer by nature; that is, to the degree that its power is greater over the
things that surround it, and its suffering from external things is less. Hence, since the
power proper to the mind is understanding, it follows that we will be the happier the
clearer our comprehension of things and the more we act in accordance with our
proper nature, namely, reason. Only to the extent that our reasonings are right are we
free, and exempt from the passions which are impressed upon us by surrounding
bodies. Yet it is impossible to evade these passions entirely, since the mind is affected
in various ways by its body, while our body, which is but a small part of the universe
can be helped and harmed by the bodies which surround it. The knowledge of bodies
is therefore most important on two grounds - first, to perfect our mind through an
understanding of the purposes and causes of things; second, to conserve and nurture
our body, which is the organ of the soul, by furthering what is wholesome for it and
reducing what is harmful.
The greatest usefulness of theoretical natural science, which deals with the causes and
purposes of things, isfor the perfection of the mind and the worship of God
Of these two applications of this science, the former can be sought only in theoreti-
cal physics, the latter in empirical physics as well. For if a person should by accident or
tradition secure a very important and useful secret of nature, such as the tincture of
metals now being praised by so many authors, but did not understand its causes, he
might be externally richer for it but not happier or wiser unless he used it to attain
freedom of mind. But if someone were to discover some admirable device of nature
and to learn its mode of operation, he would have achieved something great even if no
application of his discovelY to common life could be shown. For though all science
increases our power over external things provided a proper occasion arises for using it,
there is nonetheless another use which depends on no such occasion, namely, the per-
fection of the mind itself. By understanding the laws or the mechanisms of divine in-
vention, we shall perfect ourselves far more than by merely following the constructions
invented by men. For what greater master can we find than God, the author of the
universe? And what more beautiful hymn can we sing to him than one in which the
witness of things themselves expresses his praise? 12 But the more one can give reasons
for his love, the more one loves God. To find joy in the perfection of another - this
is the essence of love. Thus the highest function of our mind is the knowledge or what
is here the same thing, the love of the most perfect being, and it is from this that the
maximum or the most enduring joy, that is, felicity, must arise. Nor should we think
that anything is badly arranged in the universe or that God neglects those who honor
him. But the proper place to show this more fully is in another science. It must be
mentioned, however, lest, as sometimes happens, the most important application of
theoretical physics be neglected.
Empirical physics is useful for human life and should be cultivated in the state
The other use, which applies to our common life, is shared by theoretical and
empirical physical science. For if we have a so-called specific remedy for an illness but
are ignorant of its mode of action, we may nonetheless be cured by it. Most of the
things however, which are required for the effective conduct of life men have derived
from experience; such are the use of fire and water; the separation of metals from their
ores through melting, so that they can be shaped when hot but become firm when cold;
the power of the earth to put forth plants from seeds; the hunting, taming, and
breeding of animals; the difference between poisonous and wholesome foods; clothing
and shelter; and finally, men's communication with each other, without which this
life would be wretched and bestial. Thus human societies have come into being and
duties have been distributed, some administering public affairs, others using certain
specific skills through which the common need is alleviated through the collection,
preparation, and distribution of material things. Thus physical science has always been
regarded most highly in the state, and those who taught men how to sow and to plant
vines were in antiquity superstitiously placed among the gods. Today the wisest prin-
ces offer rewards to discoverers and inventors, and deservedly so, for sometimes one
small observation will cause whole cities and provinces to flourish. As an example may
be given the cultivation of silk, introduced a few centuries ago into Italy and more
recently in France, yet from which so many thousands of men live. The first man to
cook alum in Europe should also be mentioned, this skill having been brought in from
Rocca in Syria; and whoever first showed that herring could be preserved with salt, a
most profitable discovery for the Belgians. Surely there is scarcely any handicraft which
does not rest upon some particular observation of nature. I believe too that many
things are known to some people, for which, if others knew them, an application could
at once be found to a variety of crafts.
A catalogue ofexperiments is to be compiled

Thus it is a concern of the state to publish the observations with which only a few
are concerned and which very often seem to the scientists themselves to be of no use,
by setting up a history of nature in which experiments will be brought together in a
catalogue. One who deals with only a limited field rarely discovers anything new,
since he soon exhausts his subject. But from those who investigate many different
things and are gifted with a combinatorial genius we may expect many new and useful
interconnections of things. If men would now undertake such an inventory of experi-
ments, a fertile field would be prepared for new discoveries in all sciences and technol-
ogies. Men endowed with judgment and industry should thus be appointed to select,
verify, order, and classify by means of various indices those experiments which are al-
ready known to mankind, whether put down in writing or merely preserved in some
tradition. It seems that the emperors of Constantinople long ago undertook something
of this kind in all fields of science, but though we have some collected facts and
excerpts coming from their times, they are not adequate for the purpose of
learning.

New experiments are to be undertaken at public expense, and only men outstanding not
merely in science but in virtue are to be placed in charge
Yet many experiments of great importance are still quite dubious and full of errors.
Also, men of genius could propose many that are still to be undertaken. It follows that
laboratories must be set up at various places by public authority, along with deposi-
tories for machines and collections of exotic materials [exoticophylaciis]1\ in which
the varied wonders of nature and of art can be both observed and tested. Here every-
one will be free to make trial of his genius at public expense, provided only that he
has secured from just judges an approval of his plan. To these are to be added zoOlog-
ical gardens and hospitals. From physicians, hunters, workmen, and foreigners who
have an opportunity to learn many things, faithful accounts must be demanded.
Rewards must be set up for industrious achievement. But the main thing, the obser-
vance of which assures that great things will be achieved with small outlay, but whose
neglect will make even the greatest expenditures futile, is this: men must be chosen and
placed at the head of this business who not only are outstanding in ability, judgment,
and learning but also are endowed with a unique goodness of mind; in whom rivalry
and jealousy are wanting; who will not use despicable devices to appropriate for them-
selves the labors of others; who are not factious and have no wish to be regarded as the
founders of sects; who labor for love of learning itself and not for ambition or sordid
pay. Such men will certainly become friends and will push forward the laudable under-
takings of others, thus deserving much from mankind. The great Mersenne was a man
of this kind long ago, and I should prefer that these men today should fall behind him
a little in science rather than in probity.14
With the experiments are to be combined accurate and thoroughly extended reasonings
after the manner ofgeometry, for only in this way can causes be discovered.
Yet the most outstanding experiments are in vain if men who will use them are
lacking. The utility of experiments is of two kinds: one for the varied conveniences of
life, which are revealed by reasoning from cause to effect; the other to bring to light
true principles, by proceeding from effect to causes. Each way of reasoning may be
either combinatorial or analytic. The former method, namely, the combinatorial,
consists of a kind of simple reflection, and, when one has it pointed out to him by a
single word, he understands it at once and wonders why the same thing had not oc-
curred to him. Such a case is the invention of the mortar after gunpowder was al-
ready known or the invention of the chronometer after the equality of pendulum
vibrations was known. The latter method is connected in a longer chain of reasons and
involves a kind of geometry or calculus and cannot be understood without much
thought. Such is the discovery of the curve which controls the unequal vibrations of
pendulums.
The former mode, as I have already said, will be ready for men of ability when once
we have an inventory of experiments, because a multitude of applications to various
uses and works of craftmanship will occur to those who study this inventory. But the
discovery of causes, without which we cannot hope for great advances in the most
urgent field of physical science, namely medicine, can be obtained not through such
quick flights by glowing geniuses but only through profound and almost geometrical
reasonings. For our body is a hydraulic-pneumatic machine and contains fluids which
act not only by weight and in other ways manifest to the senses but also in certain
hidden ways, namely through solution, precipitation, evaporation, congealment,

filtration, and in many other processes in which composite things are dissolved into
insensible parts. Unless principles are advanced from geometry and mechanics which
can be applied with equal ease to sensible and insensible things alike, nature in its
subtlety wiII escape us. And reason must supply this most important lack in experi-
ment. For a corpuscle hundreds of thousands times smaller than any bit of dust
which flies through the air, together with other corpuscles of the same subtlety, can
be dealt with by reason as easily as can a ball by the hand of a player. 1s
The most perfect method involves the discovery of the interior constitution of bodies a
priori from a contemplation of God, the author of things. But this method is a difficUlt one
and not to be undertaken by anyone whatever
Just as there is a twofold way of reasoning from experiments, one leading to the
application, the other to the cause, so there is also a twofold way of discovering causes,
the one a priori, the other a posteriori, and each of these may be either certain or con-
jectural. The a priori method is certain if we can demonstrate from the known nature
of God that structure of the world which is in agreement with the divine reasons and
from this structure, can finally arrive at the principles of sensible things. This method
is of all the most excellent and hence does not seem to be entirely impossible. For our
mind is endowed with the concept of perfection, and we know that God works in the
most perfect way. I admit, however, that, though this way is not hopeless, it is certainly
difficult and that not everyone should undertake it. Besides, it is perhaps too long to be
covered by men. For sensible effects are too greatly compounded to be readily redu-
ced to their first causes. Yet superior geniuses should enter upon this way, even with-
out the hope of arriving at particulars by means of it, in order that we may have true
concepts of the universe, the greatness of God, and the nature of the soul, through
which the mind can be most perfected, for this is the most important end of contem-
plation. Yet we believe that the absolute use of this method is conserved for a better life. 16
Some hypotheses can satisfy so many phenomena, and so easily, that they can be taken for
certain. Among other hypotheses, those are to be chosen which are the simpler; these are
to be presented, in the interim, in place of the true causes
The conjectural method a priori proceeds by hypotheses, assuming certain causes,
perhaps, without proof, and showing that the things which now happen would follow
from these assumptions. A hypothesis of this kind is like the key to a cryptograph, and
the simpler it is, and the greater the number of events that can be explained by it, the
the more probable it is. But just as it is possible to write a letter intentionally so that it
can be understood by means of several different keys, of which only one is the true
one, so the same effect can have several causes. Hence no firm demonstration can be
made from the success of hypotheses. Yet I shall not deny that the number ofpheno-
mena which are happily explained by a given hypothesis may be so great that it must
be taken as morally certain. Indeed, hypotheses of these kind are sufficient for everyday
use. Yet it is also useful to apply less perfect hypotheses as substitutes for truth until a
better one occurs, that is, one which explains the same phenomena more happily or more
phenomena with equal felicity. There is no danger in this if we carefully distinguish the
certain from the probable. To offer such hypotheses which one knows to be fictitious,
may not be useful to knowledge, yet may meanwhile serve the memory. Such are the

fictitious etymologies by which Hebrew roots are derived from German words so that
they can be more easily retained by German schoolboys. Phenomena are virtually
contained in the hypothesis from which they can be deduced, so that anyone who
remembers the hypothesis will more easily recall these phenomena when he wishes,
even if he knows that the hypothesis is false and that certain other phenomena are
known with which it conflicts. Thus the Ptolemaic hypothesis may suffice for the
beginner in astronomy who is content with certain popular notions of heavenly
bodies. In my opinion, however, it is better to teach the true conception when we have
it.
Analogies are useful in guessing at causes and in making predictions

The hypothetical method a posteriori, which proceeds from experiments, rests for
the most part upon analogies. For instance, seeing that many terrestrial phenomena
agree with magnetic phenomena, some men teach that the earth is a great magnet,
that the structure of the earth corresponds to this, and that heavy bodies are drawn to
earth as a magnet draws iron. Others explain everything by fermentation, even the ebb
and flow of the tides. Still others, seeing that lye fights against acids, reduce all cor-
poreal conflicts to those of acid and alkali. We must guard against the abuse of analo-
gies. Yet they can be of exceedingly great use in making inductions and in setting up
aphorisms from inductions by means of which we can also make predictions about
matters of which we as yet have little experience. This too is useful in investigating the
true causes of things, for it is always easier to discover the cause of a phenomenon which
several things have in common. So it is also easier to solve cryptographs when we have
found a number of letters in the concealed meaning which are written according to the
same key. Then too, the cause of the same phenomenon can be investigated more
easily in one subject than in another, as anatomists who dissect different animals well
know.
The method of reasoning from experiments resolves the phenomenon into its attributes and
seeks the causes and effects ofeach attribute
There remains the certain method of reasoning from experiments to causes, which
I hold needs to be cultivated more widely and with greater care than heretofore. Many
men are content with analogies because they stimulate the imagination, even though
they do not satisfy the mind. But the true method of reasoning from experiments is
this - we must resolve every phenomenon into all its circumstances by considering
separately color, odor, taste, heat, and cold, and other tactile qualities, and finally, the
common attributes of magnitude, figure, and motion. Now if we have discovered the
cause of each of these attributes in itself we will certainly have the cause of the whole
phenomenon. But if by chance we do not come upon the reciprocal and permanent
cause of certain attributes, but only several possible causes, we can exclude those
which are not pertinent here,17 For example, assume two attributes, A and L, of the
same phenomenon and assume that there are two possible causes of A, namely, band c,
and two of L, namely, m and n. Now, if we establish that cause b cannot exist along
with either m or n, it follows necessarily that the cause of A is c. If we can further
establish that m cannot exist along with c, then the cause of L must be n. But if it is
not in our power to achieve a complete enumeration of possible causes, this method of
exclusion will at most be probable. If the effects rather than the causes of a pheno-
menon are sought, the method is the same; the effects of the separate attributes will
have to be examined.
Composite attributes are to be resolved into simple, and those which are simple with
respect to the senses but not with respect to intellectual principles are to be reduced to
their immediate cause
Of the attributes which are presented to the senses, some are simple, others are
compounded of simple ones. Simple attributes include heat, firmness, duration; com-
posites are such as fusibility, which consists of a body ceasing to be firm when heated.
Thus composite attributes are to be resolved into simple ones. Simple attributes,
again, are simple by their own nature and for intellectual reasons, or they are simple
with respect to our senses. As an example of an attribute simple in nature can be
offered 'to be itself' or 'to endure'. An attribute simple with respect to the senses, on
the other hand, would be heat, for the senses do not show us by what mechanism the
state of a body is produced which brings about the sensation of warmth in us, yet the
mind properly perceives that warmth is not something absolute which is understood in
itself but that it will only then be adequately understood when we explain of what it
consists or distinctly describe its proximate cause - perhaps the expansion of air, or
rather some particular motion of a fluid which is thinner than air.
Con/used attributes are sufficiently distinguished only by being shown

It follows clearly from this, moreover, that attributes which are sensible can be
divided into confused and distinct by intellectual principles. Confused attributes are
those which are indeed composite in themselves or by intellectual principles but are
simple to the senses and whose definition therefore cannot be explained. These attri-
butes can be imparted not by description but only by pointing them out to the senses.
Imagine a land where men do not know the sun and fire and have blood which is cold,
not warm; surely they cannot be made to understand what heat is merely by describing
it, for even if someone were to explain to them the innermost secrets of nature and
even interpret perfectly the cause of heat, they would still not recognize heat from this
description if it were presented to them, for they could not know that this peculiar
sensation which they perceived in their minds is excited by this particular motion,
since we cannot notice distinctly what arises in our mind and what in our organs. But
if someone kindles a fire near them, they would at length learn what heat is. Similarly
a man born blind could learn the whole of optics yet not acquire any idea of
light.
Distinct attributes are those whose resolution is known, if they have one
Distinct attributes are either simple to the intellect itself or understood in them-
selves, as 'to be', 'to endure'; or they can be explained through a definition, that is,
they can be recognized by us through certain signs, as for example, roundness or the
equidistance of all points from one, and gravity or a striving toward the center of the
earth. The former are conceived distinctly enough without resolution, for they are
incapable of resolution; the latter should be resolved into those concepts through which
they may be understood and distinguished. Although certain attributes can be resol-
ved only into others that are confused, for example fusibility, in whose definition heat
is, as we have said, an ingredient, they can nevertheless be held for distinct to the

extent that they are resolved. Those attributes are more distinct, however, which are
resolved into others which are distinct; for example, the figure of a circle or rectilinear
motion.
Attributes common to several senses are distinct above the rest, and among the distinct
attributes the homogeneous ones are the more simple 18
It must be noted, however, that attributes common to several senses are to be regard-
ed as distinct in comparison with others, for they are resolvable not into confused
ones and then again into those dependent upon the senses, but into concepts attained
by the intellect. Such attributes are magnitude, position, duration, and motion. We
need not wonder at this, for since they are common to several senses, they do not
depend upon the particular constitution of a sense organ or upon its insensible move-
ments, the subtlety and number of which lead to our confused perception. They de-
pend rather upon a nature common to diverse organs, that is, the nature of the body
itself, and so they are freed from the confusion of particular perceptions. It is also to be
noted that among the distinct attributes those are the simpler which apply equally to
the whole and to the part and which are by some called similars. Thus extension is
simpler than figure, for what can be ascribed to the whole but not to the parts belongs
to the whole because the whole consists of these parts. Such an attribute can there-
fore be explained from a consideration of the parts. So such attributes can be revolved
into the attributes of the parts out of which they arise; this cannot be said of attributes
that are homogeneous. But by these I mean only distinct homogeneous attributes
such as extension, since confused homogeneous attributes, such as whiteness, can
indeed be ascribed to the whole as well as the parts, but only to the sensible parts.
For it cannot safely be said that each part of a white body, however insensible, is
also white; it is rather truer to assert the contrary, since we see that though foam is
white, the single bubbles of foam are not white.
In general, the simpler and the more homogeneous attributes are to be preferred in our
thinking
In the same way, homogeneous bodies (even if only to the senses), such as fluids,
salts, and metals, are to be considered as simpler than organisms like plants and ani-
mals, which are composed of various parts each of which is preferred above others in
our consideration, even if all are confused. Moreover, those ways of treating and exa-
mining bodies are more useful and to be preferred in our consideration which happen
'by themselves', as the chemists commonly say, that is, without the addition of any-
thing other than the common elements of matter, fire, air, water, and earth, and these
only in the highest degree of purity, without being tainted by any particular quality.
And in general, if any phenomenon arises equally in simple and composite things, or if
any effect can be produced from simple or composite things alike, the simple is to be
preferred by which matters are altered. Thus experiments carried out with the aid of
heat from the sun's rays are simpler than those carried out with fire from our cooking
stoves, which gives forth an acid which affects the result.
There is a way of resolving confused attributes experimentally into other attributes which
is frUitful practically as well as in theory but which does not make them cease being
confused
To investigate the causes of confused attributes, however, and to obtain their reso-
lution or an analysis of them, we must relate them to other attributes as well as to the
subjects which contain them. Subjects themselves can be known only through attri-
butes. So the bringing-together of an attribute with a subject is nothing more than the
bringing-together of the attribute with an aggregate of others which concur in the
same subject. Thus a confused attribute can be related either to other confused attri-
butes or to distinct attributes. The relating of an attribute to others, however, consists
in making apparent their concurrence in the same subject, their connection with each
other, their compatibility, and on the other hand, how one can be changed into
another or can be produced out of several others. Thus there sometimes occurs
another kind of resolution of confused attributes, which I call experimental to dis-
tinguish it from intellectual resolution. For example, the color green arises from a
mixture of blue and yellow, no change taking place in the colored object but only in
the eye. Furthermore, the separate ingredients can sometimes be distinguished with a
microscope, each with its own color, yellow or blue. We cannot yet say with any cer-
tainty, however, that blue and yellow are prior to or simpler in nature than green, for
we do not understand, but merely experience, that green arises out of yellow and blue.
Therefore, neither could we have foreseen it. On the other hand, we understand though
we may not experience that a square is made by two right isosceles triangles joined
by a common hypotenuse and lying in the same plane or that from two odd numbers
there arises an even number. For in intellectual resolution or in definition, one under-
stands that which is described when the ingredients of the description are understood.
But this is not the case in a resolution made by sense alone, and what is resolved in this
way does not cease being confused. We do not grasp how the third color is given us
through the confused appearance of these two colors.
When we consider the subject of any confused attribute, for example, of light, its
cause or the way in which it is produced or increased, or its contrary or the way it is
destroyed or diminished, and finally, its effects, we do this by bringing it together with
an aggregate of many other confused or distinct attributes taken together. But distinct
attributes are to be preferred to the rest, namely duration, magnitude, motion, figure,
angle, and other circumstances, for we can reason only to the extent that we
consider distinct attributes. The application of mathematics to physical science con-
sists in such consideration of the distinct attributes which accompany confused ones.
Once we have learned that the angles of incidence and reflection of a ray of light are
equal and that these angles are taken with respect to the perpendicular striking a plane
tangent to the surface at the point of incidence, then we can easily establish the science
of catoptrics. Similarly few experiments about refraction are needed to set up the
foundations of dioptrics.
Since everything confused is by its nature resolvable into the distinct, even though it
may not always be in our power to do this, it follows that all qualities and mutations of
bodies can, according to their nature, at length be reduced to certain distinct concepts.
But in a body viewed as matter only, or as that which fills space, nothing can be con-
ceived distinctly beyond magnitude and figure which are themselves contained in-
telligibly in space, and motion which is a variation of space. Thus material things can
be explained through magnitude, figure, and motion. I know that some learned men
disagree with this and consider qualities such as heat, light, elastic force, gravity, and
magnetic force, as certain absolute entities emanating from substantial forms. Nor do

I completely reject their opinion, for very often it is not necessary to seek a resolution
of such qualities. Thus a mechanic does not care whether a body is heavy because of an
intrinsic principle or because it is impelled to the earth from without. Hence the
mechanic may be permitted to take gravity, and the optician light, as something abso-
lute to be grasped in itself. But the truth of the matter is that one must give the reason
for such qualities and explain how they arise in a body. Imagine that some angel
wished to explain to us how bodies are made heavy; he could achieve nothing by
speaking, however beautifully, about a substantial form, or sympathy, or other things
of this kind. Rather he would only then satisfy our curious understanding when he
gave us an explanation, sufficiently understood, which, when we have comprehended
it, will enable us to demonstrate with geometric certainty that gravity must necessarily
arise from it. This angel must therefore necessarily present only such things as we can
perceive distinctly. But we perceive nothing distinctly in matter save magnitude,
figure, and motion. If someone wishes in addition to ascribe to bodies a substantial
form or a soul, and likewise sense and appetite, I do not contradict him, but I maintain
that this contributes nothing toward explaining purely material phenomena and that
it is not sufficient to say that a heavy body senses and desires the earth unless we explain
at the same time how this sense and this desire arise. In this way we should finally have
to come to the construction of the organs of the sensing being, that is, to the mechani-
cal principles. For what happens with perception happens nonetheless mechanically,
and to the passions of the soul there correspond bodily motions in the organs which
always follow mechanical laws.
I know too that there are excellent and most learned men who cannot abide having
all bodily phenomena explained mechanically. For they think that this injures religion,
and they believe that if it were accepted, the world mechanism would need neither
God nor any other incorporeal substance. This they rightly regard as absurd and
dangerous. Hence some of them make use of an immediate intervention of God every-
where, while others introduce intelligences or angels as moving forces here and there.
Some set up a kind of a world soul or a hylarchic principle, through whose operations
heavy bodies are made to strive toward the earth and other things happen which are
needed to conserve the world system. But all these things are insufficient to explain
thing~, for whether we introduce God or an angel or a soul or whatever other incor-
poreal operative substance, the cause and the mode of operating can always be explain-
ed in the truth which we have about the things themselves. But the way in which a
body operates cannot be explained distinctly unless we explain what its parts contri-
bute. This cannot be understood, however, unless we understand their relation to each
other and to the whole in a mechanical sense, that is, their figure and position, the
change of this position or motion, their magnitude, their pores, and other things of
this mechanical kind, for these always vary the operation. I admit that these out-
standing men have had unimpeachable grounds for shrinking back from the philo-
sophy of certain recent thinkers, because many philosophers today resort to efficient and
material causes only, completely neglecting formal and final causes. But those who are
wise know that every effect has a final as well as an efficient cause - final because
everything that happens is done by a perceiving being, efficient because everything that
happens naturally in a body takes place through the corporeal organ and according to
the laws of bodies. If those who oppose mechanical laws had known that these laws
themselves are finally resolved into metaphysical reasons and that these metaphysical
reasons arise from the divine will or wisdom, they would not have so strongly opposed
mechanistic explanations. In fact, I have contended that the reasons for physical
motion cannot be found in mathematical rules alone but that metaphysical proposi-
tions must necessarily be added. This will be made clearer in its proper place.
Here it will be well, however, to explain a little more distinctly how a middle way
can be found, in my opinion, between the Scholastic and the mechanistic basis for
philosophy; or better, in what sense there is truth on both sides. If this is understood,
the internecine war will cease which has recently disturbed not only the schools and
universities but from time to time also the church and the state. The mechanists
condemn the Scholastics, namely, as ignorant of what is useful for living, while the
Scholastics and the theologians who cultivate the Scholastic philosophy hate the mechan-
ical philosophers as harmful to religion. 19 I must admit that both sides have exceeded
proper bounds and that even the philosophers have uncautiously said things which cannot
be proved. This is what I think. Everything is by nature to be understood clearly and dis-
tinctly and could be manifested to our understanding by God if he willed to do so.
And the operation of a body cannot be understood adequately unless we know what
its parts contribute; hence we cannot hope for the explanation of any corporeal phe-
nomenon without taking up the arrangement of its parts. But from this it does not
at all follow that nothing can be understood as true in bodies save what happens
materially and mechanically, nor does it follow that only extension is to be found in
matter. For even though the confused attributes of bodies can be referred back to
distinct ones, we must recognize that there are two kinds of distinct attributes, one of
which must be sought in mathematics, the other in metaphysics. Mathematical science
provides magnitude, figure, situation, and their variations, but metaphysics provides
existence, duration, action and passion, force of acting, and end of action, or the per-
ception of the agent. Hence I believe that there is in every body a kind of sense and
appetite, or a soul, and furthermore, that to ascribe a substantial form and perception,
or a soul, to man alone is as ridiculous as to believe that everything has been made for
man alone and that the earth is the center of the universe. But on the other hand,
I think that when once we have demonstrated the general mechanical laws from the
wisdom of God and the nature of the soul, then it is as improper to revert to the soul
or to substantial forms everywhere in explaining the particular phenomena of nature
as it is to refer everything to the absolute will of God. For the action of the soul is
determined by the state of the organ of the soul and its object, and the operation of
God by the conditions of the individual things, and this not by the necessity of matter
but by the impulsion of the final cause or the good.
REFERENCES
* Elementa physicae. The connotation of the term 'physics' is much broader than at present
and is often as inclusive as 'nature'.
1 Bod. LH., XXVII, iv, 1-10. The Elementa physicae and the Elementa de mente had been
companion projects of Leibniz since his pre-Paris years and were intended both for the
Introduction to the Catholic Demonstrations (PA., VI, i, 494; see also No. 28) and for the uni-
versal encyclopedia (G., VII, 60, 65).
2 For an earlier account of phosphorus see Leibniz's instructions to Huygens in No. 27.
Robert Boyle, inspired by hints about Brand's method, published accounts of his own experi-
ments with the new chemical in 1680 and 1682, using the designations The Aerial Noctiluca and
The Icy Noctiluca.
3 Historia. See No.2, Sec. 32. In the definitions which summarize the present paper (sheets
7 and 8), Leibniz defines historiae as "singular truths of sense, like an account of a certain
lunar eclipse".
4 Leibniz uses quality to include both sensory and nonsensory properties of bodies, as Boyle
had done in The Origin of Forms and Qualities (cf. Nos. 1 and 70). Note that in Sec. II ofthe
present paper, 'attribute' is used as an equivalent term.
5 Motion, size, and figure are the categories of explanation in Boyle's corpuscular philosophy.
For their place in the geometry of situation see No. 27.
6 More details concerning this method of geometric definition through the intersection of loci
are contained in No. 27, II, and No. 70.
7 For the tornatorial science see Couto OF., pp. 525-26, where it is included in phoronomy
or the science of motion.
S Reading with the manuscript vasis for pa/is (Ger.).
9 cr. No. 34, below, where Leibniz rejects the Cartesian principle of the conservation of
quantity of motion, or momentum, about which he here expresses doubt and No. 46, II,
where the conservation of total quantity of motion in a system is reaffirmed, on condition that
directions of motion are treated algebraically.
10 See the Tentamen anagogicum, No. 50.
U This is the end of Leibniz's plan. What follows on the same page differs in ink and script
and was clearly added later. It is obviously the first draft of the opening sections in the In-
troduction which follows.
12 The figure treating science as a hymn of praise Leibniz probably owed to Boyle (cf. The
Usefulness of Natural Philosophy [Birch, II, 52J). Cf. 'the hymn of Galen' (G., VII, 71, 273).
13 Cf. Couto OF., p. 224, in the list of contents oCa universal atlas.
14 In his first draft Leibniz had named as examples of the probity required of the scientist
also Gassendi and Joachim Jung of Hamburg. His demand is all the more remarkable at a
time when scientific jealousies were bitter and persistent.
15 Leibniz's nearest approach to the fulfilment of this remarkable prophesy is the principle
of the conservation of total force and total direction of motion in a system of bodies (No. 46).
16 By 1686 Leibniz had concluded that an infinity of steps is involved in the a priori derivation
of truths of fact and that this is therefore impossible for man. See also No. 29, above.
17 This is the method of establishing universal causal laws. Note that Leibniz distinguishes
uncertainty in scientific conclusions which arises from the inadequacy of method (hypothesis
and analogy) from uncertainty resulting from the impossibility of enumerating all the causal
factors involved in a problem. Hence his frequent emphasis upon exhaustiveness in the
enumeration of qualities. The experimental potency of the method of difference is here not
yet apparent.
18 Leibniz here uses the term simi/aria, which is translated by his more general term homoge-
neous, basic for his mathematical and metaphysical analyses. The relation between similarity
and homogeneity is alluded to in Part I of the present essay and treated more clearly in No. 70.
19 This frequently repeated attempt at the philosophical synthesis of mechanical and final
causality (cf. No. 35, Secs. 19-23, No. 50, etc.) follows the argument of Boyle in The Origin
of Forms and Qualities and elsewhere, save that Leibniz substitutes mechanical philosophy for
corpuscular philosophy, Boyle's term for his own position.
33
MEDITATIONS ON KNOWLEDGE, TRUTH, AND IDEAS

Acta eruditorum, November, 1684
Leibniz's first published paper on philosophical issues (in the mature period of his
thought) is the result of his criticism of Descartes's incomplete conception of truth and
was clearly occasioned by the appearance of Arnauld's attack on Malebranche's theory of
knowledge in the Des vraies et des fausses idees, though Leibniz did not study the con-
troversy in detail untillater.1 That he regarded this essay as definitive for his own con-
ception ofknowledge is shown by his frequent reference to it in his later works.
[G., IV, 422-26]
Since distinguished men are today engaged in controversies about true and false ideas,
a matter of great importance for understanding the truth and one to which even
Descartes did not entirely do justice, I should like briefly to explain what I think may
be established about the different kinds and the criteria of ideas and of knowledge.
Knowledge is either obscure or clear; clear knowledge is either confused or distinct;
distinct knowledge is either inadequate or adequate, and also either symbolic or in-
tuitive. The most perfect knowledge is that which is both adequate and intuitive.
A concept is obscure which does not suffice for recognizing the thing represented,
as when I merely remember some flower or animal which I have once seen but not well
enough to recognize it when it is placed before me and to distinguish it from similar
ones; or when I consider some term which the Scholastics had defined poorly, such as
Aristotle's entelechy, or cause as a common term for material, formal, efficient, and
final cause, or other such terms of which we have no sure definition. A proposition also
becomes obscure when it contains such a concept.
Knowledge is clear, therefore, when it makes it possible for me to recognize the
thing represented. Clear knowledge, in turn, is either confused or distinct. It is confused
when I cannot enumerate one by one the marks which are sufficient to distinguish the
thing from others, even though the thing may in truth have such marks and constituents
into which its concept can be resolved. Thus we know colors, odors, flavors, and other
particular objects of the senses clearly enough and discern them from each other but
only by the simple evidence of the senses and not by marks that can be expressed. So
we cannot explain to a blind man what red is, nor can we explain such a quality to
others except by bringing them into the presence of the thing and making them see,
smell, or taste it, or at least by reminding them of some similar perception they have
had in the past. Yet it is certain that the concepts of these qualities are composite and
can be resolved, for they certainly have their causes. Likewise we sometimes see pain-
ters and other artists correctly judge what has been done well or done badly; yet they
are often unable to give a reason for their judgment but tell the inquirer that the work
which displeases them lacks 'something, I know not what' .

A distinct concept, however, is the kind of notion whichassayers have of gold; one,
namely, which enables them to distinguish gold from all other bodies by sufficient
marks and observations. We usually have such concepts about objects common to
many senses 2, such as number, magnitude, and figure, and also about many affections
of the mind such as hope and fear; in a word, about all concepts of which we have a
nominal definition, which is nothing but the enumeration of sufficient marks. We may
also have distinct knowledge of an indefinable concept, however, when this concept is
primitive or is the mark of itself, that is, when it is irreducible and to be understood
only through itself and therefore lacks requisite marks. But in composite concepts the
single component marks are indeed sometimes known clearly but nevertheless con-
fusedly, such as heaviness, color, aqua fortis, and others which are some of the marks
of gold. Such knowledge of gold may therefore be distinct, but it is nonetheless
inadequate. But when every ingredient that enters into a distinct concept is itself
known distinctly, or when analysis is carried through to the end, knowledge is ade-
quate. I am not sure that a perfect example of this can be given by man, but our
concept of numbers approaches it closely. Yet for the most part, especially in a longer
analysis, we do not intuit the entire nature of the subject matter at once but make use
of signs instead of things, though we usually omit the explanation of these signs in any
actually present thought for the sake of brevity, knowing or believing that we have the
power to do it. Thus when I think of a chiliogon, or a polygon of a thousand
equal sides, I do not always consider the nature of a side and of equality and of a
thousand (or the cube of ten), but I use these words, whose meaning appears obscurely
and imperfectly to the mind, in place of the ideas which I have of them, because I
remember that I know the meaning of the words but that their interpretation is not
necessary for the present judgment. Such thinking I usually call blind or symbolic;
we use it in algebra and in arithmetic, and indeed almost everywhere. When a concept
is very complex, we certainly cannot think simultaneously of all the concepts which
compose it. But when this is possible, or at least insofar as it is possible, I call the
knowledge intuitive. There is no other knowledge than intuitive of a distinct primitive
concept, while for the most part we have only symbolic thought of composites.
This already shows that we do not perceive the ideas even of those things which we
know distinctly, except insofar as we use intuitive thought. It often happens that we
falsely believe ourselves to have ideas of things in our mind, when we assume wrongly
that we have already explained certain terms which we are using. It is not true, or at
least it is ambiguous, to say, as some do, that we cannot speak of anything and under-
stand what we say without having an idea of it. For often we understand after a fashion
each single word or remember to have understood it earlier; yet because we are content
with this blind thinking and do not sufficiently press the analysis of the concepts, we
overlook a contradiction which the composite concept may involve. I was led to
examine this point more distinctly by an argument which was famous among the
Scholastics long ago and was revived by Descartes. It is an argument for the existence
of God and is stated as follows. Whatever follows from the idea or definition of a thing
can be predicated of the thing itself. Existence follows from the idea of God, or the
most perfect being, or that than which no greater can be thought. For a most perfect
being involves all perfections, among which existence is one. Therefore existence can
be predicated of God.
It should be noticed however, that the most you can draw out of this argument is
that if God is possible, it follows that he exists; for we cannot safely infer from defini-
tions until we know that they are real or that they involve no contradiction. The
reason for this is that from concepts which involve a contradiction, contradictory
conclusions can be drawn simultaneously, and this is absurd. To explain this I usually
make use of the example of the most rapid motion, which involves an absurdity.
Suppose that a wheel turns at a most rapid rate. Then anyone can see that if a spoke of
the wheel is extended beyond its rim, its extremity will move more rapidly than will a
nail in the rim itself. The motion of the nail is therefore not the most rapid, contrary to
hypothesis. Yet at first glance we may seem to have a idea of the most rapid motion,
for we understand perfectly what we are saying. But we cannot have any idea of the
impossible. Likewise it is not enough to think of a most perfect being in order to assert
that we have an idea of it, and in the demonstration which I referred to above we must
either prove or assume the possibility of a most perfect being in order to reason
rightly. However, there is nothing truer than that we have an idea of God and that the
most perfect being is possible and indeed necessary. But the above argument is not
conclusive and has already been rejected by Thomas Aquinas.
This gives us, too, a means of distinguishing between nominal definitions, which
contain only marks for discerning one thing from others, and real definitions, through
which the possibility of the thing is ascertained. In this way we can meet the view of
Hobbes, who held truths to be arbitrary because they depend on nominal definitions,
not considering that the reality of the definition does not depend upon our free choice
and that not all concepts can be combined with each other. 3 Nominal definitions do not
suffice for perfect knowledge unless it has been established by other means that the
defined thing is possible.
Thus the difference between a true and afalse idea also becomes clear. An idea is true
when the concept is possible; it is false when it implies a contradiction. Now we know
the possibility of a thing either a priori or a posteriori. We know it a priori when we
resolve the concept into its necessary elements or into other concepts whose possibility
is known, and we know that there is nothing incompatible in them. This happens, for
instance, when we understand the method by which the thing can be produced; hence
causal definitions are more useful than others. We know an idea a posteriori when we
experience the actual existence of the thing, for what actually exists or has existed is in any
case possible. Whenever our knowledge is adequate, we have a priori knowledge of a
possibility, for if we have carried out the analysis to the end and no contradiction has
appeared, the concept is obviously possible. Whether men will ever be able to carry
out a perfect analysis of concepts, that is, to reduce their thoughts to the first possibles
or to irreducible concepts, or (what is the same thing) to the absolute attributes of God
themselves or the first causes and the final end of things, I shall not now venture to
decide. 4 For the most part we are content to learn the reality of certain concepts by
experience and then to compose other concepts from them after the pattern of nature.
From this therefore I believe we can understand that it is not always safe to appeal
to ideas and that many thinkers have abused this deceptive word to establish some of
their own fancies. That we do not always at once have an idea of a thing of which we
are conscious of thinking, the example of most rapid motion has shown. Nor is it less
deceptive, I think, when men today advance the famous principle that whatever I per-
ceive clearly and distinctly in some thing is true, or may be predicated of it. For what
seems clear and distinct to men when they judge rashly is frequently obscure and

confused. This axiom is thus useless unless the criteria of clearness and distinctness
which we have proposed are applied and unless the truth of the ideas is established.
For the rest, the rules of common logic, of which also the geometricians make use, are
not to be despised as criteria of the truth of judgments; so, for example, the rule that
nothing is to be admitted for certain unless it has been proved by careful experience or
by sound demonstration. A demonstration is sound when it observes the form pre-
scribed in logic, although it need not always follow the form of syllogisms arranged in
the Scholastic manner (such as Christian Herlinus and Conrad Dasypodius applied to
the first six books of Euclid) 5 ; it is merely necessary that the argument be conclusive
by virtue of its form. As an example of such argumentation carried through in proper
form one could also quote any valid calculation. Thus no necessary premise is to be
omitted, and all premises must be proved in advance, or at least admitted to be hypoth-
eses, in which case the conclusion, too, is hypothetical. Whoever obeys these rules
carefully will easily protect himself against deceptive ideas. That brilliant genius
Pascal agrees entirely with these principles when he says, in his famous dissertation on
the geometrical spirit, a fragment of which is preserved in the outstanding book of the
celebrated Antoine Arnauld on the Art of Thinking 6, that it is the task of the geome-
trician to define all terms though ever so little obscure and to prove all truths though
little doubtful. I only wish that he had defined the limits beyond which any concept or
judgment is no longer even a little obscure or doubtful. But the necessary conditions
for this can be learned from a careful study of what we have just said; we must now
strive to be brief.
As to the controversy whether we see all things in God (an old opinion which,
properly understood, is not entirely to be rejected) or whether we have some ideas of
our own 7, it must be understood that even if we sawall things in God, it would still
be necessary to have our own ideas also, not in the sense of some kind of little copies,
but as affections or modifications of our mind corresponding to the very object we
perceive in God. For whenever thoughts succeed each other, some change occurs in
our mind. There are also ideas in our mind of things of which we are not actually
thinking, as the figure of Hercules is in the rough marble. But in God there must
actually be the ideas not only of absolute and infinite extension but also of every
figure, since figure is nothing but a modification of absolute extension. s Moreover,
when we perceive colors or odors, we are having nothing but a perception of figures
and motions, but of figures and motions so complex and minute that our mind in its
present state is incapable of observing each distinctly and therefore fails to notice that
its perception is compounded of single perceptions of exceedingly small figures and
motions. So when we mix yellow and blue powders and perceive a green color, we are
in fact sensing nothing but yellow and blue thoroughly mixed; but we do not notice
this and so assume some new nature instead.
REFERENCES
1 Seep.276,note13.
2 In the New Essays, II, 5 (G., V, 116), Leibniz assigns these concepts (called by Locke simple·
ideas which come from several senses) to the common sense (Aristotle De anima ii. 6) but ident-
ifies the common sense with "the mind itself, for they are ideas of the pure understanding,
which relate to the external world and which we perceive through the senses".
3 See p.lS5, note 3.
4 On Leibniz's identification of simple concepts with the perfections of God see the Intro-
duction, Sec. V; see also Nos. 14 and 16, andp.169, note 2.
5 On this effort to reduce Euclid to syllogistic form see Cantor, op. cit., II, 553.
8 Art de penser, Part IV, chaps. IX and X. Leibniz had read Pascal's De ['esprit geometrique
in Paris (Cout. OF., p. lSI).
7 This is another allusion to the Arnauld-Malebranche controversy. Arnauld had attacked
Malebranche's view that we see objects by means of ideas in God's mind and had asserted that
perception is esentially a modification of our own soul. See also p. 271, note S.
8 This comment refers to Malebranche's theory of an intelligible extension in God, to which
Leibniz here gives qualified approval, though he insists that this does not absolve God from
particular knowledge, as Malebranche had held. Cf. Leibniz's theory of the immensum during
the Paris period (No. 12).
34
A BRIEF DEMONSTRATION OF A NOT ABLE ERROR OF

DESCAR TES AND OTHERS CONCERNING
A NATURAL LAW,
According to Which God Is Said Always To Conserve the Same
Quantity of Motion; a Law Which They Also
Misuse in Mechanics
Acta eruditorum, March, 1686
In this criticism of the Cartesian principle of the conservation of quantity of motion or of

momentum, Leibniz began to fulfil his promise to refute the Cartesian physics, and parti-
cularly the laws of motion, by means ofa new principle (No. 31,111). His analysis of the
relations of energy expended and work done involves the principle of equipollence as
applied to physical processes. Replies were made to the paper by two outstanding Carte-
sians, the Abbe Catelan in 1686 and Denis Papin in 1691. Both answers involved Leibniz
in a series of discussions which led to sharper formulations of his principles. The supple-
ment is a later addition which reflects his thinking at the time of the Specimen dynami-
cum (No. 46).
[GM., VI, 117-19]
Seeing that velocity and mass compensate for each other in the five common machines,
a number of mathematicians have estimated the force of motion by the quantity of
motion or by the product of the body and its velocity. Or to speak rather in geometri-
cal terms, the forces of two bodies (of the same kind) set in motion, and acting by
their mass as well as by their motion, are said to be proportional jointly to their bodies
or masses and to their velocities. Now since it is reasonable that the same sum of mo-
tive force should be conserved in nature and not be diminished - since we never see
force lost by one body without being transferred to another - or augmented, a per-
petual motion machine can never be succesful because no machine, not even the world
as a whole, can increase its force without a new impulse from without. This led Des-
cartes, who held motive force and quantity of motion to be equivalent, to assert that
God conserves the same quantity of motion in the world. 1
In order to show what a great difference there is between these two concepts, I
begin by' assuming, on the other hand, that a body falling from a certain altitude
acquires the same force which is necessary to lift it back to its original altitude if its
direction were to carry it back and if nothing external interfered with it. For example,
a pendulum would return to exactly the height from which it falls except for the air
resistance and other similar obstacles which absorb something of its force and which
we shall now refrain from considering. I assume also, in the second place, that the
same force is necessary to raise the body A (Figure 11) of 1 pound to the height CD
of 4 yards as is necessary to raise the body B of 4 pounds to the height EF of 1 yard.
Cartesians as well as other philosophers and mathematicians of our times admit both
of these assumptions. Hence it follows that the body A, in falling from the height CD,
should aquire precisely the same amount of force as the body B falling from the height
EF. For in falling from C and reaching D, the body A will have there the force re-
quired to rise again to C, by the first assumption; that is, it will have the force needed
to raise a body of 1 pound (namely, itself) to the height of 4 yards. Similarly the body
1A
@!C I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
1
I
14
I
I
1
I
I
1
I
1
I
1
I
Al
/:.-=)10
c::r.··
Fig. 11.
B, after faIling from E to F, will there have the force required to rise again to E, by
the first assumption; that is, it will have the force sufficient to raise a body of 4 pounds
(itself, namely) to a height of 1 yard. Therefore by the second assumption, the force of
the body A when it arrives at D and that of the body B at Fare equal.
Now let us see whether the quantities of motion are the same in both cases. Contrary
to expectations, there appears a very great difference here. I shall explain it in this way.
Galileo has proved that the velocity acquired in the fall CD is twice the velocity ac-
quired in the fall EF. So, if we multiply the mass of A (which is 1) by its velocity
(which is 2), the product, or the quantity of motion, is 2; on the other hand, if we
multiply the body B (which is 4) by its velocity (which is 1), the product, or quantity of
motion, is 4. Therefore the quantity of motion of the body A at D is half the quantity
of motion of the body B at F, yet their forces are equal, as we have just seen. 2 There is
thus a big difference between motive force and quantity of motion, and the one cannot
be calculated by the other, as we undertook to show. It seems from this that force is
rather to be estimated from the quantity of the effect which it can produce; for example,
from the height to which it can elevate a heavy body of a given magnitude and kind
but not from the velocity which it can impress upon the body. For not merely a double
force, but one greater than this, is necessary to double the given velocity of the same
body. We need not wonder that in common machines, the lever, windlass, pulley,
wedge, screw, and the like, there exists an equilibrium, since the mass of one body is
compensated for by the velocity of the other; the nature of the machine here makes the
magnitudes of the bodies - assuming that they are of the same kind - reciprocally
proportional to their velocities, so that the same quantity of motion is produced on

either side. For in this special case the quantity of the effect, or the height risen or
fallen, will be the same on both sides, no matter to which side of the balance the motion
is applied. It is therefore merely accidental here that the force can be estimated from
the quantity of motion. There are other cases, such as the one given earlier, in which
they do not coincide. 3
Since nothing is simpler than our proof, it is surprising that it did not occur to
Descartes or to the Cartesians, who are most learned men. But the former was led
astray by too great a faith in his own genius; the latter, in the genius of others. For by
a vice common to great men, Descartes finally became a little too confident, and I fear
that the Cartesians are gradually beginning to imitate many of the Peripatetics at
whom they have laughed; they are forming the habit, that is, of consulting the books
of their master instead of right reason and the nature of things.
It must be said, therefore, that forces are proportional, jointly, to bodies (of the
same specific gravity or solidity) and to the heights which produce their velocity or from
which their velocities can be acquired. More generally, since no velocities may actually
be produced, the forces are proportional to the heights which might be produced by
these velocities. They are not generally proportional to their own velocities, though
this may seem plausible at first view and has in fact usually been held. Many errors
have arisen from this latter view, such as can be found in the mathematico-mechanical
works of Honoratius Fabri, Claude Deschales, John Alfonso Borelli, and other men
who have otherwise distinguished themselves in these fields. In fact, I believe this error
is also the reason why a number of scholars have recently questioned Huygens' law for
the center of oscillation of a pendulum, which is completely true. 4
SUPPLEMENT
It is to be shown that the power required to lift 1 pound 2 feet is the same as the power
required to lift 2 pounds 1 foot.
This proposition is not only admitted but explicitly applied and regarded as a
principle by Descartes in his letters and the short treatise on mechanics which was
edited with his letters, and separately as well. It was also accepted by Pascal in his
treatise on the equilibrium of fluids; by Samuel Morland, the Englishman who invent-
ed the stentorian tubes, in the hydraulic treatise which he recently published 5; and by
a certain learned Cartesian who has tried to reply to my demonstration against Des-
cartes in the Nouvelles de la republique des lettres published in Holland with a number
of evasions, though he did not adequately understand my argument. 6 I shall not
mention other Cartesians or the opinions of other philosophers. So I can safely apply
the principle in refuting the alleged natural law of the Cartesians.
The same proposition is confirmed also by the five commonly recognized· mechanical
powers - the lever, windlass, pulley, wedge, and screw; for in all the~e our proposition
seems to be true. For the sake of brevity, however, it will suffice to show this in the
single case of the lever, or - what amounts to the same thing - to deduce from our rule
that the distances and weights of bodies in equilibrium are in reciprocal proportion.
Let us assume A C (Figure 12) to be double BC, and the weight B double the weight A;
then I say A and B are in equilibrium. For if we assume either one to preponderate,
B, for example, and so to sink to B', and A to rise to A', and drop perpendiculars A' E
and B'D from A' and B' to AB, it is clear that if DB' is 1 foot, A'E will be 2 feet, and
therefore that, if 2 pounds descend the distance of 1 foot, 1 pound will ascend to the
height of 2 feet, and thus that, since these two are equivalent, nothing is gained and the
descent becomes useless, everything remaining in equilibrium as before. 7 It can be
shown in the same way that A cannot descend or predominate. So our proposition or
hypothesis, so to speak, is confirmed a posteriori, for, by assuming it, one can prove
that all the common mechanical propositions apply to equilibrium or to the five
machines.
Indeed, I might even risk affirming that there is no mechanical theorem in which
our hypothesis is not confirmed or presupposed, as can be shown, for instance, by the
law of the inclined plane, or by fountains, or by the acceleration of falling bodies.
Fig. 12.
Even if some of these seem reconcilable with that hypothesis which estimates power by
the product of mass by velocity, this is only accidentally, since the two hypotheses
coincide in the case of dead forces [potentia mortuus] in which only the beginning or
end of conatuses is actualized. But in living forces or those acting with an actually
completed impetus, there arises a difference, just as the example shows which I have
given above in the published paper. For living power is to dead power, or impetus
(actual velocity) is to conatus, as a line is to a point or as a plane is to a line. Just as
two circles are not proportional to their diameters, so the living forces of equal bodies
are not proportional to their velocities but to the squares of their velocities.
But since we cannot stop with an appeal to authority in this matter, and the mind
which seeks to know will not be satisfied with mere inductions and hypotheses, we will
now give a demonstration of our proposition, so that it can be placed for the future
among the immutable foundations of the science of mechanics.
I assume the single principle that a heavy body, falling from any height, will have
exactly or precisely the power necessary for it to rise back to the same height, if it is
understood to have lost no force on its way by friction or resistance by the medium or
some other body.
Corollary. So a body of 1 pound which descends from a height of 1 foot, acquires
exactly the power of raising a body of 1 pound (equal to the first body itself) to the
height of 1 foot.
I postulate besides that I am permitted to assume various connections of the heavy
bodies with each other, and their separation again, and to introduce any other changes
which do not involve a change of force. I also make use of threads, axes, levers, and
other mechanisms lacking in weight and resistance. 8
Theorem. With these assumptions, I assert that the fall of the body B (Figure 13) of
1 pound for the distance BB", a height of 2 feet, will have exactly as much force as is
necessary to raise the body A of 2 pounds to the height of AA' of 1 foot.
Demonstration. I assume the body A composed of two parts, E and F, each of which

is 1 pound. Now the body B, of 1 pound, has exactly the power, in descending from
the height BB' of 1 foot, that is necessary to raise the body E of 1 pound to the height
EE' of 1 foot (by the corollary), if a connection is assumed between them (by the
postulate). We assume further (by the same postulate) that the body B in the position
B' is freed from its connection with body E, which remains at E', and is connected now
with body F. Then the body B, continuing its descent for the distance B'B" will be able
to lift the body F of 1 pound for the distance FF', a height of 1 foot (by the corollary).
Therefore the whole body B of 1 pound, descending 2 feet, BB", has raised the body
composed of both E and F, or A, of 2 pounds through AA', a height of 1 foot. But
T )1-
exactly this was to be proved possible.
( i
I
E,i F'
r-t-1
I
I
I
Bt
I
I t_tJ A
I
E F
I
I
I
I
I
i
I
I
B'tI
I
I
! I
I
I
i
I
B'"
Fig. 13.
Scholium
If the matter is carefully considered, it will easily be understood, without any appa-
ratus or figures, that these two things are equivalent - to raise 1 pound to 2 feet (i.e., a
pound 1 foot, and then again a pound 1 foot), and to raise 2 pounds 1 foot (i.e., a pound
1 foot and, joined to it, another pound 1 foot). In general, forces are to be calculated
from their effects, not from the time; for time can be varied by external circumstances.
Thus the sphere C, with a specific impetus (degree of velocity) by whose action it can
raise itself to the height HG on an inclined plane LM or LN, needs more time in pro-
portion to the increasing length of the plane (Figure 14). In either case, however, it
__________________ .!"1 ____ N G
I
I
I
I
I
I
i
cO Q -------------------.! H
-----------i
Fig. 14.
will rise to the same perpendicular height if, naturally (as must be done in these pro-
blems), the resistance of air and the plane be taken as zero. The force of the sphere will
remain the same, whatever may be the inclination of the line in which it lifts itself.
I understand here such an effect as itself constitutes a natural force or one by whose
production the impetus is diminished. Such an effect is the ascent or elevation of any
heavy object, the tension of a spring, the impulsion of a body to motion or the retar-
dation of its motion, and other operations of this kind. On the other hand, the greater
or less progress of a body once put in motion in a horizontal plane is not an effect of
this kind from which I calculate absolute force, for the force remains the same during
the progress of the body in this case. This is worth noting explicitly for the sake of
avoiding errors, since it has not been adequately explained. Of course I admit that
from a given time or its reciprocal, the velocity, and from other known circumstances,
a judgment is possible about the force of a given body; but I assert that not the time
nor the velocity but only the effect is an absolute measure of force, for when the force
remains the same, the effect remains the same, and neither the time nor other circum- '
stances can vary it. Hence it is not surprising that the forces of two equal bodies are
proportional not to their velocities but to the causes or the effects of their velocity, i.e.,
to the heights producing them or capable of being produced by them, or to the
squares of their velocities. It also follows therefore that when two bodies collide,
there is conserved after the collision, not the same quantity of motion or impetus, but
the same quantity of force. 9 It follows also that a string must be stretched by a fourfold
weight to produce a tone twice as high, for the weight represents the force, the sound
the velocity of the vibrations of the string. The ultimate reason, however, is that
motion is not something absolute and real in itself.
REFERENCES
1 Principiaphilosophiae, Part II, Sees. 48ff. See also Leibniz's critical analyses in the correspond-
ing sections of No. 42.
2 Leibniz's conclusion may be summarized as follows. According to the law of falling bodies,
d = 19t 2 • But v = gt; hence v 2 = 2gd, or distances vary as the squares of velocities. More
generally, then, Leibniz holds that work accomplished, measured by the motion of a body
through a horizontal distance, is proportional to a quantity of force accumulating through
time and is therefore an integral or summation of successive initial impulses themselves whose
effects in velocity are conserved and accumulated. It is therefore proportional to v2 rather
than to v. Forces in equilibrium are special cases of the more general equation between force
exerted and work done, when the force remains dead (or is restricted to momentary accelera-
tion).
For the relation among force, energy, and work the student should consult such standard
works in theoretical mechanics as that by Sir James Jeans. Kepler's, but particularly Galileo's,
analysis of force (as inertia times acceleration, as opposed to velocity) is important in under-
standing the background of Leibniz's thought. But his conclusion itself is first found in Huy-
gen's De motu corporum ex percussione (1668), where Proposition 9 affirms that in a case of
colliding bodies the sums of the products of m and v2 remain constant. For these historical
relations see E. Hoppe, Geschichte der Physik, Brunswick 1926, pp. 60ff. On the issue at stake
between Descartes and Leibniz see Mach, The Science of Mechanics, 5th ed., pp. 364ff. See
also p. 451 , notes 7 and 9.
3 In the case of static machines, equilibrium requires that the common center of gravity of the
system not be effected by virtual displacements within the elements of the system. But these
momentary impulsions to displacement or conatuses (ds/dt) are proportional to velocity

(v = ds/dt), and Descartes's principle thus applies. In the case of living forces, or forces
operative through time, on the other hand, the distance is an integral of the velocity and thus
proportional to v2 •
4 Honoratius Fabri, Physica, i.e., Scientia rerum corporearum in X tractatus distributa, Leyden
1669; Claude Francois Deschales, Cursus seu mundus mathematicus, Leyden 1674; Giovanni
Alfonso Borelli, De motionibus naturalibus a gravitate pendentibus, Leyden 1686. Huygens'
Hor%gium oscillatorium (1673) had, like his earlier work on impact (note 2, above),
involved the new measure of motive force and was therefore opposed by Cartesian physicists.
5 The definition of energy as capacity to do work is found in Kepler and Galileo (Hoppe,
op. cit., p. 63). Descartes discusses the relation with Mersenne, July 13 and September 12,
1638 (Adam and Tannery, Correspondence, II, 222, 352). Samuel Morland's Hydrostatics
appeared in 1695. Thus this supplement reflects the physical work of the middle 1690's. On
Pascal's hydrostatics see Mach, op. cit. pp. 66, 116-17.
6 A French translation of the Brief Demonstration appeared in this emigre journal for Septem-
ber, 1686, along with a reply by the Abbe Catelan.
7 Since the distance is proportional to the square of the velocity (note 2, above).
8 This methodological assumption originated in Galileo's use of the pendulum and inclined
plane in deriving the law of falling bodies. But it received brilliant development in Huygens's
analysis of the oscillation center of a compound pendulum into the problem of simple pen-
dulums with varied weights and lengths, which could be combined mathematically into a
rigid system or released from it (see BC., I, 253, n. 189).
9 For a detailed discussion of the laws of impact and a criticism of Descartes's laws by means
of the principle of continuity see No. 42. Until the appearance of Newton's Principia in 1687,
the discussion of laws of motion was dominated by the problem of the impact of two colliding
bodies. In Leibniz's later studies, however (cf. No. 46), collision becomes a special case of
dynamic systems in which absolute force, relative force, and progress of direction are conserved.
35
"DISCOURSE ON METAPHYSICS"
1686
The first mature synthesis of Leibniz's philosophical opinions is an essay without title
which is described in a letter to the Landgrave Ernest of Hesse-Rheinfels on February
1/11,1686.
Finding myself recently at a place with nothing to do for a few days, I wrote a little discourse on
metaphysics, on which I should like to have the opinion of Mr. Arnauld. For I have treated the
questions of grace, the co-operation of God with creatures, the nature of miracles, the cause of
sin, the origin of evil, the immortality of the soul, ideas, etc., in a way which seems to provide new
openings proper to clearing up the greatest difficulties [G., II, II].
So far as is known, however, the work itself was never sent to Arnauld, but only the 37
propositions summarizing its conclusions, which Leibniz asked the Landgrave to forward
to him. Though it has been esteemed very highly as a statement of Leibniz's mature
philosophy, he himself considered it inadequate on the nature and kinds of substances,
on the interpretation of body, and on the various degrees ofperception. In contrast to his
later philosophical summaries (Nos. 66 and 67), its emphasis is predominantly theological
beginning with the argument for God rather than with the argument for individual
substances, and it may have been a study for the preface to the Catholic Demonstrations.
Gerhardt's text has been corrected with the comparatively collated text of Schmalen-
bach (Sch. I, 1-50) based on the critical edition by Lestienne. Only the more significant
variations found in earlier drafts of the essay, of which G. 's text is the third, are found
in the notes.
[G., IV, 427-63]
1. On the divine perfection, and that God does all in the most desirable way. The most
widely accepted and meaningful concept which we have of God is very well expressed
in the phrase that he is an absolutely perfect being; yet the consequences of this
definition have not been adequately considered. To penetrate more deeply into its
meaning, it is convenient to notice that there are several entirely different perfections
in nature, that God possesses them all together, and that each one belongs to him in a
supreme degree. We must also know what is meant by perfection. A fairly sure test of it
is this one: those forms or natures which are incapable of a highest degree are not
perfections; for example, the nature of number or figure. For the greatest number of
all, or the number of all numbers, and the greatest of all figures are concepts which
imply contradiction, but the greatest knowledge and omnipotence involve no impossi-
bility. Therefore power and knowledge are perfections and insofar as they belong to
God, have no limits. Hence it follows that God, who possesses supreme and infinite
wisdom, acts in the most perfect way and does this not only in a metaphysical but also
in a moral sense. With respect to ourselves we can also express this as follows: the

more enlightened and informed we are about the works of God, the more we shall be
inclined to find them excellent and in entire conformity with everything which might
have been desired.
2. Against those who claim that there is no goodness in the works of God; or that the
rules ofgoodness and beauty are arbitrary. Thus I am far from holding to the opinion of
those who maintain that there are no rules of goodness and perfection in the nature of
things or in the ideas which God has of them and who say that the works of God are
good only for the formal reason that God has made them. For if this were so, God,
who knows that he is the author of things, would have had no reason to regard them
afterward and find them good, as is reported in the Holy Scriptures, which seem to
have used this anthropological conception only to make us understand that the
excellence of God's works may be recognized by considering them in themselves, even
without reflecting upon this empty designation which relates them to their cause. This
is all the more true, since it is through a consideration of his works that we can dis-
cover the craftsman. Thus his works must carry his mark in themselves. I confess that
the contrary opinion seems to me extremely dangerous and to come very near to that
of the latest innovators 1 whose opinion it is that the beauty of the universe and the
goodness which we ascribe to the works of God are nothing but the chimeras of men
who think of him in terms of themselves. Then, too, when we say that things are not
good by any rule of excellence but solely by the will of God, we unknowingly destroy, I
think, all the love of God and all his glory. For why praise him for what he has done if
he would be equally praiseworthy in doing exactly the opposite? Where will his justice
and wisdom be found if nothing is left but a certain despotic power, if will takes the
place of reason, and if, according to the definition of tyrants, that which is pleasing to
the most powerful is by that very fact just? Besides it seems that every act of will
implies some reason for willing and that this reason naturally precedes the act of will
itself. This is why I find entirely strange, also, the expression of certain other philo-
sophers who say that the eternal truths of metaphysics and geometry, and conse-
quently also the rules of goodness, justice, and perfection, are merely the effects of the
will of God; while it seems to me that they are rather the consequences of his under-
standing, which certainly does not depend upon his will any more than does his
essence.
3. Against those who believe that God might have made things better. Nor am I able
to approve the opinion of certain moderns who maintain boldly that what God has
done is not supremely perfect but that he could have done much better. For it seems to
me that the consequences of this opinion are wholly contrary to the glory of God.
Uti minus malum habet rationem boni, ita minus bonum habet rationem mali. 2 To act
with less perfection than one is capable of is to act imperfectly. To show that an archi-
tect could have done his work better is to find fault with his work. This opinion is also
contrary to the Holy Scriptures, which assure us of the goodness of God's works. For
supposing this opinion were justified, since the imperfections follow a scale descend-
ing endlessly, whatever works God might have created, they would always be good in
comparison with the less perfect. But a thing is hardly praiseworthy if it can be praised
only is this way. I believe also that a great many passages will be found in the divine
writings and the Church Fathers which favor my opinion but scarcely any supporting
that of the moderns 3, an opinion which was, I think, unknown to all antiquity and is
based only on the inadequate knowledge which we have of the general harmony of the
universe and the hidden reasons for God's conduct. This makes us judge rashly that
many things might have been made better. Besides, these moderns insist on certain
untenable subtleties, for they imagine that nothing is so perfect that there is not
something more perfect, which is an error.4 They believe also that thus they are safe-
guarding God's freedom, as though it were not the highest freedom to act in per-
fection according to sovereign reason. For to think that God acts in any matter without
having any reason for his will, even overlooking the fact that this seems impossible, is
an opinion which is hardly in accord with God's glory. Let us assume, for example,
that God chooses between A and B and that he takes A without having any reason for
preferring it to B. I say that such action by God is at least not praiseworthy, for all
praise should be based on some reason, and there is none here, by hypothesis. I hold,
instead, that God does nothing for which he does not deserve to be praised.
4. That the love of God requires our entire satisfaction with and acquiescence in that
which he has done. The general knowledge of this great truth, that God always acts in
the most perfect and the most desirable way possible, is in my opinion the basis of the
love which we owe to God above all things, since he who loves seeks his satisfaction
in the felicity or perfection of the object loved and of his actions. Idem velie et idem
nolle vera amicitia est. 5 I believe that it is difficult to love God truly if, having the
power to change his inclination, one is not inclined to will what he wills. In fact, those
who are not satisfied with what he does seem to me like discontented subjects whose in-
tentions are not very different from those of rebels. According to these principles, I hold
therefore that, in order to act in conformity to the love of God, it is not enough to
force ourselves to be patient; we must be truly satisfied with everything that has
happened to us according to his will. I mean this acquiescence to apply to the past;
for as to the future we ought not to be quietists and stand with folded arms ridiculously
waiting to see what God will do, in conformity with the sophism which the ancients
called M),ov aep)'ov, or the lazy reason. 6 We must rather act in accordance with the
presumptive will of God, so far as we are able to know it, trying with all our might to
contribute to the general welfare and particularly to the ornament and perfection of
that which concerns us or that which is nearest us and so to speak, within our reach.
For though the outcome may perhaps show us that God did not wish our good will
to be effective for the present, it does not follow that he did not will us to do what we
did. On the contrary, since he is the best of all masters, he never demands more than
righteous intentions, and it is for him to know the proper hour and place for making
our good designs successful.
5. Of what the rules of the perfection of the divine action consist; and that the simpli-
city of the means is in balance with the richness of the effects. It is enough, then, to have
this confidence in God that he does everything for the best and that nothing can harm
those who love him. But to understand the reasons in particular which have moved
him to choose this order of the universe - to allow sin to be committed, to dispense his
saving grace in a certain way - this surpasses the powers of a finite mind, especially if
this mind has not yet attained the blessedness of the vision of God. Some general re-
marks can be made, however, about the ways of providence in the government of
affairs. It can be said, then, that he who acts perfectly is like an excellent geometrician
who knows how to find the best constructions of a problem; or a good architect who
makes the most advantageous use of the space and the capital intended for a building,
leaving nothing which offends or which lacks the beauty of which it is capable; or a

good family head who makes such use of his holdings that there i<> nothing uncultivate d
and barren; or a skilled machinist who produces his work by the easiest process that
can be chosen; or a learned author who includes the greatest number of subjects in the
smallest possible volume. But the most perfect of all beings, and those which occupy
the smallest volume, that is to say, those which least obstruct each other, are spirits,
whose perfections consists in their virtues. This is why there can be no doubt that the
happiness 7 of spirits is the principal end of God and that he puts this principle into
practice as far as the general harmony permits. We shall have more to say about this
later. As for the simplicity of the ways of God, this is shown especially in the means
which he uses, whereas the variety, opulence, and abundance appears in regard to
the ends or results. The one ought thus to be in equilibrium with the other, just as the
funds intended for a building should be proportional to the size and beauty one
requires in it. It is true that nothing costs God anything, even less than it costs a
philosopher to build the fabric of his imaginary world out of hypotheses, since God
has only to make his decrees in order to create a real world. But where wisdom is
concerned, decrees or hypotheses are comparable to expenditures, in the degree to
which they are independent of each other, for reason demands that we avoid multi-
plying hypotheses or principles, somewhat as the simplest system is always preferred
in astronomy.s
6. That God does nothing which is unorderly. and that it is not even possible to assume
events which are not according to rule. The volitions or actions of God are commonly
classified into ordinary and extraordinary acts. But it i<> well to understand that God
does nothing without order. So whatever passes for extraordinary is so only in relation
to some particular order established among creatures. For as concerns universal
order, everything is in conformity with it. So true is this that not only does nothing
happen in the world which is absolutely irregular but one cannot even imagine such
an event. For let us assume that someone puts down a number of points on paper
entirely at random, as do those who practice the ludicrous art of geomancy; I maintain
that it is possible to find a geometric line whose law is constant and uniform and follows
a certain rule which will pass through all these points and in the same order in which
they were drawn. And if someone draws an uninterrupted curve which is now straight,
now circular, and now of some other nature, it is possible to find a concept, a rule, or
an equation common to all the points of the line, in accordance with which these very
changes must take place. There is no face, for example, whose contour does not form
part of a geometric curve and cannot be drawn in one stroke by a certain regular
movement. But when the rule for this movement is very complex, the line which
conforms to it passes for irregular. Thus we may say that no matter how God might
have created the world, it would always have been regular and in a certain general
order. But God has chosen that world which is the most perfect, that is to say, which
is at the same time the simplest in its hypotheses and the richest in phenomena, as
might be a geometric line whose construction would be easy but whose properties and
effects would be very remarkable and of a wide reach. I make use of these comparisons
merely to portray an imperfect semblance of the divine wisdom and to say that which can
at least lift our spirit to some conception of what cannot well be expressed. But I do
not at all claim to explain by means of it the great mystery upon which the entire
universe depends.
7. That miracles conform to the general order although they may be contrary to the
subordinate regulations; on what God wills or what he permits, and on his general or
particular will. Now since nothing can happen which is not according to order, it can
be said that miracles are as much subject to order as are natural operations and that
the latter are called natural because they conform to certain subordinate maxims which
we call the nature of things. For we may say that this nature is merely acustom of God's
with which he can dispense for any reason stronger than that which moved him to use
these maxims. As for general or particular volitions, we may say, depending upon how
the matter is understood, that God does everything according to his most general will
which conforms with the most perfect order which he has chosen. But we can also say
that he has particular volitions which are exceptions to these subordinate maxims. 9
For the most general of God's laws, which rules the whole sequence of the universe, is
without exception. It can also be said that God wills everything which is an object of
his particular volition; but as for the objectives of his general will, such as the actions
of creatures, especially of those which are reasonable and with whom God wishes to
co-operate, we must make a distinction. If the action is good in itself, we can say that
God wishes it and sometimes commands it, even though it does not take place. But if
the action is evil in itself, and becomes good only by accident because the course of
events, particularly punishment and satisfaction, corrects its malignity and repays the
evil with interest in such a way that more perfection is found in the whole sequence
than if the evil had not occurred - then we must say that God perInits it but not that he
wills it, although he has concurred init through the natural laws which he has established
and because he knows how to draw a greater good from it.
8. To distinguish the actions of God from those of creatures we must explain what the
concept of an individual substance is. It is rather difficult to distinguish the actions of
God from those of creatures 10, for there are those who believe that God does every-
thing, while others imagine that he does nothing but conserve the force which he has
given to creatures. We shall see in what follows the sense in which we can say the one
or the other. Now since activity and passivity pertain distinctively to individual
substances (actiones sunt suppositorum) 11, it will be necessary to explain what such a
substance is. It is of course true that when a number of predicates are attributed to a
single subject while this subject is not attributed to any other, it is called an individual
substance. But this is not enough, and such a definition is merely nominal. We must
consider, then, what it means to be truly attributed to a certain subject. Now it is
certain that every true predication has some basis in the nature of things, and when a
proposition is not an identity, that is to say, when the predicate is not expressly con-
tained in the subject, it must be included in it virtually. This is what the philosophers
call in-esse, when they say that the predicate is in the subject. So the subject term must
always include the predicate term in such a way that anyone who understands per-
fectly the concept of the subject will also know that the predicate pertains to it. This
being preInised, we can say it is the nature of an individual substance or complete
being to have a concept so complete that it is sufficient to make us understand and
deduce from it all the predicates of the subject to which the concept is attributed. An
accident, on the other hand, is a being whose concept does not include everything that
can be attributed to the subject to which the concept is attributed. Thus the quality
of king which belonged to Alexander the Great, if we abstract it from its subject, is
not determined enough to define an individual, for it does not include the other
qualities of the same subject or everything which the concept of this prince includes.

God, on the contrary, in seeing the individual notion or 'haecceity' of Alexander, sees
in it at the same time the basis and the reason for all the predicates which can truly be
affirmed of him - for example, that he wiII conquer Darius and Porus - even knowing
a priori (and not by experience) what we can know only through history - whether
he died a natural death or by poison. Thus when we well consider the connection of
things, it can be said that there are at all times in the soul of Alexander traces of all
that has happened to him and marks of all that will happen to him and even traces
of all that happens in the universe, though it belongs only to God to know them all.
9. That each singular substance expresses the whole universe in its own way, and that
in its concept are included all of the experiences belonging to it together with all of their
circumstances and the entire sequence of exterior events. From these considerations
there follow a number of important paradoxes; among others that it is not true
that two substances can resemble each other completely and differ only in number
and that what St. Thomas says on this point about angels or intelligences (quod
ibi omne individuum sit species infima) 12 is true of all substances, provided that
we take the specific difference as geometricians understand it in their figures.
It follows also that a substance cannot come into being except by creation, or
perish except by annihilation; that a substance cannot be divided in two, or one sub-
stance made out of two, so that the number of substances does not increase or
diminish naturally, though they are often transformed. Moreover, every substance is
like an entire world, and like a mirror of God or of the whole universe which it ex-
presses, each in its own manner, about as the same city is represented differently
depending on the different positions from which it is regarded. Thus the universe is
in a certain sense multiplied as many times as there are substances, and the glory of
God is likewise redoubled by as many wholly different representations of his work. It
can even be said that every substance in some way bears the character of God's infinite
wisdom and omnipotence and imitates him as much as it is capable. For it expresses,
however confusedly, everything that takes place in the universe, past, present, or
future; this resembles somewhat an infinite perception or an infinite knowledge. And
since all other substances in their tum express this one in their own way, and adapt
themselves to it, it can be said that each extends its power over all the rest in imitation
of the omnipotence of the creator.
10. That there is something sound in the belief in substantial forms, but that these
forms change nothing in the phenomena and must not be used to explain particular effects.
Not only the ancients but also many able men given to deep meditation who taught
theology and philosophy some centuries ago, some of whom are to be respected also
for their saintliness, seem to have had some knowledge of what we have just said; this
is why they have introduced and maintained the substantial forms which are so widely
discredited today. But they are not so far from the truth, or so ridiculous, as our
modem philosophers commonly imagine. I agree that the consideration of these forms
serves no purpose in the details of physics and that they ought not to be used to explain
particular phenomena. In this the Scholastics failed, as did the physicists of the past
who imitated them, thinking that they could account for the properties of bodies by
mentioning forms and qualities, without taking pains to examine the manner of their
operation. This is as if one were content to say that a clock has a time-indicating pro-
perty proceeding13 from it~ form, without inquiring wherein this property consists.
This is of course enough for the man who buys it, if he turns over its care to someone
else. But this inadequate understanding and abuse of the forms ought not to make us
reject something whose knowledge is so necessary in metaphysics that without it, I
hold, we cannot well understand the first principles or raise the spirit to the knowledge
of incorporeal natures and the wonders of God. A geometrician does not need to
encumber his mind with the famous labyrinth of the composition of the continuum,
and no moral philosopher, and still less a jurisconsult or politician, needs to trouble
himself with the great difficulties involved in reconciling free will with the providence
of God, since the geometrician can carry through his demonstrations, and the politi-
cian finish his deliberations, without entering these discussions; yet these problems
are nonetheless necessary and important in philosophy and theology. Just so a physi-
cist can give an explanation of his experiments, making use, now of simpler experiences
already past, now of geometric and mechanical demonstrations, without needing the
general considerations which belong to another sphere. If he does make use of the
co-operation of God or of some soul or Archeus 14 or of something else of this nature,
he is raving, just as much as a man who would enter into the great discussion concern-
ing the nature of destiny and of our liberty, in deciding an important practical pro-
blem. Men in fact often commit this fault without thinking of it when they encumber
their mind by the consideration of fatalism and are even sometimes diverted by it
from some good resolve or from some necessary concern.
II. That the thoughts of the theologians and philosophers who are called scholastics
are not to be entirely disdained. I know that I am advancing a great paradox in seeking
to restore the old philosophy in some respects and to restore these almost-banished
substantial forms. But perhaps I shall not be condemned so lightly when it is known
that I have given much thought to the modern philosophy and that I have spent much
time in physical experiments and geometric demonstrations and was for a long time
convinced of the emptiness of these beings to which I am at last compelled to return in
spite of myself and as by force. This is after I have myself carried out studies which
convinced me that our moderns do not do enough justice to St. Thomas and other
great men of his time and that the opinions of the Scholastic philosophers and theo-
logians are much sounder than has been imagined, provided that they are used appro-
priately and in their proper place. I am even convinced that if some exact and thought-
ful mind were to take the pains to clarify and to assimilate their thoughts after the
manner of the analytic method of geometricians, he would find a great treasure of
very important and strictly demonstrative truths.
12. That the concepts which are involved in extension include something imaginary and
cannot constitute the substance of the body. But to take up the thread of my consider-
ations again, I believe that anyone who will meditate about the nature of substance as I
have explained it above will find 15 that the entire nature of the body does not consist
merely in extension, that is to say, in size, figure, and motion, but that there must
necessarily be recognized in it something related to souls, which is commonly called
a substantial form, although this form makes no change in the phenomena, any more
than does the soul of beasts if they have one. It can even be demonstrated that the
concepts of size, figure, and motion are not so distinct as has been imagined and that
they include something imaginary and relative to our perceptions, as do also (though
to a greater extent) color, heat, and other similar qualities which one may doubt truly
are found in the nature of things outside of ourselves. 16 This is why qualities of this
kind cannot constitute any substance. And if there is no other principle of identity in

body than those we have just mentioned, no body can ever subsist longer than a
moment. 17 Meanwhile the souls and the substantial forms of the other bodies are very
different from intelligent souls, who alone know their actions and who not only never
perish naturally but even preserve always the fundamental knowledge of what they
are. This makes them alone susceptible of punishment and reward and citizens of the
commonwealth of the universe of which God is the monarch. It follows also that all
the other creatures should serve them; a matter which we shall discuss more fully
later.
13. Since the individual concept of each person includes once and for all everything
which can ever happen to him, one sees in it a priori proofs or reasons for the truths ofeach
event and why one has happened rather than another, but these truths, however certain,
are nevertheless contingent, being based on the free will of God and of creatures. It is
true that their choice a/ways has its reasons, but these incline without necessitating.
But before we go further we must try to meet a great difficulty which may grow out
of the foundations which we have laid above. We have said that the concept of an
individual substance once and for all includes everything which can ever happen to it
and that in considering that concept, one can see everything which can truly be predi-
cated of it, just as we can see in the essence of the circle all the properties which can be
deduced from it. But it seems that this will destroy the distinction between contingent
and necessary truths, that it will leave no place for human liberty, and that an abso-
lute fatalism will rule over all our actions as well as over the other events of the world.
To this I reply that we must distinguish between what is certain and what is necessary.
It is universally agreed that future contingents ate certain, since God foresees them,
but this does not make us say that they are necessary. But someone may object that
if a certain conclusion can be deduced infallibly from a given definition or concept, that
conclusion will be necessary. And we are now maintaining that everything that hap-
pens to some person is already contained virtually in his nature or concept, just as the
properties of the circle are contained in its definition. Thus the difficulty still subsists.
To answer it squarely, I say that there are two kinds of connection or sequence. One
is absolutely necessary, for its contrary implies a contradiction, and this deductive con-
nection occurs in eternal truths like those of geometry. The other is necessary only
ex hypothesi, and by accident, so to speak, and this connection is contingent in itself
when its contrary implies no contradiction. A connection of this kind is not based on
pure ideas and on the simple understanding of God but also on his free decrees
and on the sequence of events in the universe. Let us take an example. Since
Julius Caesar is to become perpetual dictator and master of the republic and
will destroy the liberty of the Romans, this action is contained in his concept, for we
have assumed that it is the nature of such a perfect concept of a subject to include
everything, so that the predicate is included in it - ut possit inesse subjecto. One could
say that it is not by virtue of this concept or idea that he must commit this act, since the
concept fits him only because God knows everything. But, someone will insist, his
nature or form corresponds to this concept, and since God imposed this personality
upon him, it is henceforth necessary for him to fulfil it. I could reply by pointing out
the case of future contingents, which as yet have reality only in the understanding
and the will of God; but since God has given them this form in advance, it is all the
same necessary for them to respond to it. But I prefer to meet difficulties rather than to
extenuate them by pointing out certain other similar difficulties, and what I am about
to say will serve to clear up the one as well as the other. It is here, then, tl;tat we must
apply the distinction we have made between the classes of connections, arid I say that
whatever happens in conformity to these divine anticipations is assured but not
necessary anq that if anyone were to do the contrary, he would not do anything im-
possible in itself, though it would be impossible ex hypothesi for it to happen. For if
some man were able to carry out the complete demonstration by virtue of which he could
prove this connection between the subject, who is Caesar, and the predicate, which is
his successful undertaking, he would actually show that the future dictatorship of
Caesar is based in his concept or nature and that there is a reason in that concept why
he has resolved to cross the Rubicon rather than stop there, and why he has won rather
than lost the day at Pharsalus, and why it was reasonable and consequently assured
that this should happen. But this man could not show that these events are necessary
in themselves or that their contrary implies a contradiction. In the same way it is
reasonable and assured that God will always do what is best, even though what is less
perfect implies no contradiction. For it will be found that this demonstration of the
predicate of Caesar is not as absolute as that of numbers or of geometry but that it
supposes the sequence of things which God has freely chosen and which is founded on
the first free decree of God, which leads him always to do what is most perfect, and on
the decree which God has made about human nature (following the primary one),
which is that man shall always do, though freely, that which appears to him to be best.
But every truth which is based on this kind of a decree is contingent, even though it is
certain, for these decrees do not change the possibility of things. And as I have al-
ready said, though God assuredly always chooses the best, this does not prevent
something less perfect from being and remaining possible in itself, even though it will
never happen, for it is not its impossibility but its imperfection which causes God to
reject it. Now nothing is necessary whose opposite is possible. So we are in a position
to meet difficulties of this kind, no matter how great they may seem (and in fact they
are no less pressing for all the other thinkers who have taken up this matter), provided
that we consider carefully that all contingent propositions have reasons for being as
they are and not otherwise or what amounts to the same thing, that they have a
priori proofs of their truth which make them certain and which show that the relation
between subject and predicate of these propositions has its basis in the nature of both.
But we must consider too that these proofs are not demonstrations of necessity, since
these reasons are based only on the principle of contingency or of the existence of
things, that is to say, on what'is or appears to be the best among several equally
possible things. Necessary truths, by contrast, are based on the principle of contra-
diction and on the possibility or impossibility of essences themselves, without consider-
ing in this relation the free will of God or of the creatures. 1S
14. God produces diverse substances according to the different views he has of the
world, and through the intervention of God the nature proper to each substance involves
that what happens to one corresponds to what happens to all the others, without their
acting upon one another directly. After having to some extent seen in what the nature of
substances consists, we must try to explain the dependence they have on each other
and their actions and their passions. Now it is clear, first of all, that the created sub-
stances depend on God, who preserves them and indeed even produces them conti-
nually by a kind of emanation, as we produce our thoughts. For as God turns the
universal system of phenomena which he has seen fit to produce in order to manifest

his glory, on all sides and in all ways, so to speak, and examines every aspect of the
world in every possible manner, there is no relation which escapes his omniscience,
and there thus results from each perspective of the universe, as it is seen from a certain
position, a substance which expresses the universe in conformity to that perspective,
if God sees fit to render his thought effective and to produce that substance. And
since God's perspective is always true, our perceptions are also always true; it is our
judgments, which come from ourselves, which deceive US. 19 But we have already said,
and it follows from what we have just said, that each substance is as a world apart, in-
dependent of everything outside of itself except God. Thus all our phenomena, that is
to say, all the things that can ever happen to us, are only the results of our own being.
And since these phenomena maintain a certain order which conforms to our nature or,
so to speak, to the world which is within us, so that we are able to make observations
that are useful for controlling our own conduct and justified by the success of future
phenomena, with the result that we can often judge the future by the past without
deceiving ourselves, this would be sufficient to enable us to say that these phenomena
are true, without being put to the task of inquiring whether they are outside of us and
whether others perceive them also. Nevertheless it is true that the perceptions or ex-
pressions of all substances intercorrespond, so that each one, following with care the
established reasons or laws which it has observed, meets with others who have done
this also. When a number of people have agreed to meet together in some place on
a previously determined day, they can do this successfully if they wish. But although
all express the same phenomena, it does not follow from this that their expressions
are exactly alike; it suffices that they are proportional. So a number of spectators be-
lieve that they see the same thing and are in fact in agreement about it, although each
one sees and speaks of it according to the measure of his own point of view. It is only
God (from whom all individuals emanate continually and who sees the universe not
only as they see it but also entirely differently from all of them), who is the cause of
this correspondence between their phenomena and who makes public to all that which
is peculiar to one; otherwise there would be no interconnection. 20 We might say, then,
in a way, and with good meaning, though not in accordance with common usage, that
one particular substance never acts upon another particular substance, nor is it acted
upon by it, if we keep in mind that what happens to each is solely the result of its own
complete idea or concept, since this idea already includes all the predicates or events
and expresses the whole universe. Nothing can in fact happen to us except thoughts
and perceptions, and all our future thoughts and perceptions are only the conse-
quences, however contingent they may be, of our preceding ones, so that if I were
capable of considering distinctly everything that is happening to me or appearing to
me at this hour, I could see in it everything which will ever happen or appear to me.
And this,would not fail to happen to me, even if all that there is outside of me were
to be destroyed, provided there remained only God and myself. But since we do
attribute to other things as causes acting upon ourselves that which we perceive in a
certain way, we must consider the basis of this judgment and the element of truth
which it has in it.
15. The action of one finite substance upon another consists in nothing but the increase
of degree of its expression together with the diminution of the expression of the other,
insofar as God hasformed them in advance in such a way that they are adapted to each other.
To reconcile the language of metaphysics with that of practice, it will suffice for the
present, without entering into a long discussion, to remark that we ascribe to ourselves,
primarily and with reason, those phenomena which we express more perfectly and
that we attribute to other substances those phenomena which each expresses best.
Thus a substance which has an infinite extension, insofar as it expresses everything,
becomes limited through the more or less perfect way in which it expresses each thing.
It is in this sense, then, that we can think of substances as impeding and limiting each
other, and consequently it is in this sense that we can say that they act upon each other
and are obliged, so to speak, to adapt themselves to each other. For it can happen
that a single change which increases the expression of one will diminish that of another.
Now it is the virtue of a particular substance to express well the glory of God, and the
better it expresses it, the less limited it is. And whenever anything exercises its virtue
or power, that is to say when it acts, it improves and enlarges itself in proportion to its
action. Therefore when a change takes place by which a number of substances are
affected (as a matter offact, every change affects them all), I believe it can be said that
any substance which thereby passes immediately to a greater degree of perfection or to
a more perfect expression exercises its power and acts, while any substance which
passes to a lesser degree of perfection shows its weakness and suffers. I hold too that
every action of a substance which has perfection involves some pleasure, and every
passion some pain, and vice versa. Yet it may well happen that a present advantage
may be destroyed by a greater evil in the future, so that one can sin in acting or in
exercising his power and in finding pleasure.
16. The extraordinary concourse of God is included in that which our essence expresses,
for this expression includes everything. But this concourse surpasses the power of our
nature or of our distinct expression, which is finite and follows certain subalternate
maxims. For the present it remains for me only to explain how God can sometimes
influence men and other substances through an extraordinary and miraculous inter-
vention, since it seems that nothing can happen to them which is extraordinary or
supernatural, inasmuch as all events are only consequences of their own nature. But
we must remember what we have said above concerning miracles occurring in the
universe - that they always conform to the universal law of general order, even though
they may be above the subordinate rules. Since every person or substance is like a
little world which expresses the great one, we can say equally that this extraordinary
action of God upon this substance is always miraculous, though it is included in the
general order of the universe insofar as that order is expressed by the essence or indi-
vidual concept of this substance. Therefore there is nothing supernatural in us if we
include in our nature everything which it expresses, for it extends to everything, since
an effect always expresses its cause and since God is the true cause of the substances.
But that which our nature expresses more perfectly belongs to it in a particular way,
because it is in this expression that its power consists; yet this power is limited, as I
have just explained. There are therefore many things which surpass the powers of our
nature and even the powers of all limited natures. To speak more clearly, therefore,
I say that the miracles and extraordinary interventions of God have this peculiarity -
that they cannot be foreseen by the reasoning of any created spirit, no matter how
enlightened, because the distinct understanding of the general order is beyond all such
spirits. Everything which is called natural, on the other hand, depends on less general
maxims which creatures can understand. In order, then, that my words as well as my
meaning may be beyond criticism, it is convenient to adapt certain ways of speech to

certain thoughts. We can therefore define our essence or idea as that which includes
everything which we express. And since our substance expresses our union with God
himself, it has no limits and nothing is beyond it. But whatever is limited in us could
be called our nature or our power, and in this seme, whatever surpasses the natures of
all created substances is supernatural.
17. An example of a subalternate maxim in a law of nature; where it is shown that
God always conserves by rule the same force but not the same quantity of motion, against
the Cartesians and many others. I have already made frequent mention of subordinate
rules or of the laws of nature, and it seems desirable to give an example of these. Our
new philosophers commonly make use of the famous rule that God always conserves
the same quantity of motion in the world. This rule is indeed most plausible, and I have
in the past regarded it as beyond doubt. But more recently I have di~covered wherein
it is in error. This is that Descartes and many other able mathematicians believed that
the quantity of motion, that is, the velocity multiplied by the magnitude of the moving
body, coincides exactly with the moving force; or to speak geometrically, that the
forces are proportional to the product of velocities and masses. 21 Now it is reasonable
that the same force should always be conserved in the universe. Also, when we atten-
tively observe the phenomena, it is clear that perpetual mechanical motion cannot
occur, because then the force of a machine, which is always diminished a little by
friction and must therefore soon come to an end, would restore itself and conse-
quently increase itself without any new impulsion from without. We observe also that
the force of a body is only diminished in proportion as it imparts force to some bodies
contiguous to it or to its own part!! insofar as they have a separate movement. So these
mathematician!! have thought that what can be said of force can also be said of the
quantity of motion. But to show that there is a difference, I make the assumption that
a body falling from a certain height acquires the force to rise again to the same height
if its direction carries it that way and if it meets with no obstructions. For example, a
pendulum would rise again exactly to the height from which it has descended if air
resistance and other small obstacles did not ~lightly diminish its acquired force. I make
the further assumption that it takes as much force to lift a body A of 1 pound to the
height CD of 4 fathoms as it takes to lift a body B of 4 pounds to the height of 1 fath-
om. All this is admitted by our new philosophers. It is clear, then, that having fallen
from the height of CD, the body A has acquired exactly as much force as the body B
when it has fallen from the height EF (see No. 34, Figure 11, p. 297). For the body B,
having fallen to F and possessing at this point the force to rise again to E (by my first
assumption) has therefore enough force to lift a body of 4 pounds, that is to say, itself,
to the height EFof 1 fathom; and similarly, the body A, having fallen to D and having
at this point enough force to rise to C, has the power to lift a body of 1 pound, that is,
itself, to the height CD of 4 fathoms. Then (by the second assumption) the force of these
two bodies is equal. Let us see now if the quantity of motion is also equal in the two
bodies; here we shall be surprised to find a very great difference. For as Galileo has
demonstrated, the velocity acquired by the fall CD is twice the velocity acquired by the
fall EF, though the height is four times as big. Then if we multiply the body A (equal to 1)
by its velocity (equal to 2), the product or the quantity of motion will be equal to 2; on
the other hand, if we multiply the body B (equal to 4) by its velocity (which is equal to
1), the product or quantity of motion will be equal to 4. So the quantity of motion of
the body A at the point D is half the quantity of motion of the body B at the point F;
yet their forces are equal. Thus there is a great difference between quantity of motion
and force, which was to be proved. We may see from this that force must be estimated
by the quantity of the effect which it can produce, for example, by the height to which
a heavy body of a certain size and kind can be lifted; and thi .. is quite different from
the velocity which can be imparted to it. To give it double its velocity, more than
double the force is necessary. Nothing is simpler than this proof, and Descartes has
fallen into error here only because he had too much confidence in his thoughts even
when they were not yet sufficiently mature. But I am surprised that his disciples have
not since discovered this error. I fear that they are beginning little by little to imitate
certain of the Peripatetics whom they ridicule, like them gradually acquiring the habit
of consulting the books of their master rather than reason and nature.
18. The distinction between force and quantity of motion is important among other
reasons in order to show that we mllst have recourse to metaphysical considerations apart
from extension in order to explain the phenomena of bodies. This consideration, in which
force is distinguished from quantity of motion, is of importance not only in physics and
mechanics in finding the true laws of nature and the rules of motion, and even in
correcting many errors in practice which have slipped into the writings of a number of
able mathematicians, but also in metaphysics for the better understanding of the prin-
ciples. For considering only what it mean~ narrowly and formally, that is, a change of
place, motion is not something entirely real; when a number of bodies change their
position with respect to each other, it is impossible, merely from a consideration of
these changes, to determine to which bodies motion ought to be ascribed and which
should be regarded as at rest, as I could show geometrically if I wished to stop now to
do it. But the force or the immediate cause of these changes is something more real,
and there is a sufficient basis for ascribing it to one body rather than to another. This,
therefore, is also the way to leam to which body the motion preferably belongs. Now
this force is something different from size, figure, and motion, and from this we can
conclude that not everything which is conceived in a body consists solely in extension
and its modifications, as our modems have persuaded themselves. Thus we are com-
pelled to restore also certain beings or forms which they have banished. And
although all particular phemomena of nature can be explained mathematically or
mechanically by those who understand them, it becomes more and more apparent
that the general principles of corporeal nature and of mechanics themselves are never-
theless metaphY3ical rather than geometrical and pertain to certain forms or indivisible
natures as the causes of what appears rather than to the corporeal or extended mas'l.
This reflection is capable of reconciling the mechanical philosophy of the modems
with the caution of certain intelligent persons of good will who fear, with some reason,
that we may withdraw too far from immaterial beings and thereby put piety at a dis-
advantage.
19. The utility affinal causes in physics. Since I do not like to accuse people wrongly,
I make no charge against our new philosophers who claim to banish final causes from
physics, but I am nonetheless obliged to confess that the consequences of this opinion
seem to me to be dangerous, expecially if I combine it with the view which I refuted at
the beginning of this discourse, which seems to go the length of denying final causes
entirely, as if God in acting had proposed no end or good whatever, or as if the good
were not the object of his will. I hold on the contrary, that it is exactly in this that the
principle of all existences and of the laws of nature is to be sought, for God always

aims at the best and the most perfect. I willingly admit that we are liable to deceive
ourselves when we try to determine the ends or design~ of God, but this is only when
we seek to limit them to some particular design, thinking that he has had in view only
one particular thing, when in fact he at the same time takes into consideration the
whole. Thu~ it i~ a great abuse to believe that God made the world only for us, although
it is very true that he made it in its entirety for us and that there is nothing in the uni-
verse which does not affect us and which does not also comply with the regard which
he has for us, in accordance with the principles set forth above. Therefore when we see
any good effect or some perfection which occurs or which ensue~ from the works of
God, we can say with certainty that God has purposed it, for he does nothing by chance
and is not comparable to us, who sometimes fail to do what is good. Therefore, while
overzealous politicians may deceive themselves by imagining too much subtlety in the
designs of their princes, or while commentators may err in seeking more erudition in
their author than he has, we cannot be mistaken in this or attribute too much reflect-
ion to thi~ infinite wi~dom, and there is no subject in which we need less to fear error
provided we limit ourselves to affirmations and avoid negative statements which limit
the designs of God.
Anyone who sees the wonderful structure of animals will find himself forced to
recognize the wisdom of the Author of all things. And I advise tho~e who have any
feeling of piety, and indeed of true philosophy, to keep away from the phrases of
certain would-be freethinkers who say that we see because we happen to have eyes but
that eyes were not made for the purpose of seeing. If one seriously accepts these opini-
ons which ascribe everything to the necessity of matter or to a certain chance (though
both of these views should seem ridiculous to anyone who understands what we have
explained above), it is difficult to acknowledge an intelligent Author of nature. For the
effect must correspond to its cause and is even known best through a knowledge of its
cause. It is unreasonable to introduce a sovereign intelligence as the orderer of things,
and then, instead of making use of his wisdom, to employ only the properties of
matter in explaining phenomena. This is as if a historian should try to explain the
conquest of some important place by a great prince, by saying that it occurred because
the small particles of gunpowder, set free by the contact of a spark, escaped with a ve-
locity capable of pushing a hard and heavy body against the walls of the place, while
the little particles which composed the bronze of the cannon were so firmly interlaced
that this velocity did not force them apart; instead of showing how the foresight
of the conqueror led him to choose suitable time and means, and how his power
overcame all obstacles.
20. A noteworthy passage by Socrates in Plato's Phaedo against the philosophers who
are too materialistic. This reminds me of a beautiful passage by Socrates in Plato's
Phaedo which agrees most remarkably with my opinions on this point and seems to be
directed expressly against our too materialistic philosophers. Hence I have been
tempted to translate this account, although it is a little long. Perhaps this little sample
will lead someone to select for us many of the other beautiful and sound thoughts
which are found in the writings of this famous author. 22
21. Ifmechanicallaws depended upon geometry alone without metaphysics, phenomena
would be entirely different. Now since the wisdom of God has always been recognized
in the detail of the mechanical structure of certain particular bodies, it must also be
shown in the general economy of the world and in the constitution of the laws of
nature. This i~ so true that one can observe the designs of this wisdom in the general
laws of motion. For if there were nothing in bodies but extended mass, and nothing in
motion but change of place, and if everything should and could be deduced solely
from the definitions of these by geometric necessity, it would follow, as I have else-
where shown, that the smallest body, in colliding with the greatest body at rest, would
impart to it its own velocity, without losing any of this velocity itself; and it would be
necessary to accept a number of other such rules which are entirely contrary to the
formation of a system. 23 But the decree of the divine wisdom to conserve always the
same total force and the same total direction has provided for this. I find even that
several effects of nature can be doubly demonstrated; once, by the consideration of
their efficient cause, and again, independently, by the consideration of the final cause,
making use for example, of the decree of God always to produce his effect by the
easiest and most determined ways, as I have shown elsewhere in accounting for the
rules of catoptrics and dioptrics; I shall have more to say about this soon. 24
22. A reconciliation of two methods of explanation, one of which proceeds by final
causes, the other by efficient causes; to satisfy both those who explain nature mechanically
as well as those who have recourse to incorporeal natures. It is convenient to make this
comment in order to reconcile those who hope to explain mechanically the formation
of the primary texture of an animal and the whole machinery of its parts, with those
who account for this same structure through final causes. Both methods are good, both
can be useful not only for admiring the skill of the great workman but also for making
usefuJ discoveries in physics and in medicine. Authors who take these different routes
ought not to abuse each other. For those who are intent on explaining the beauty of
the divine anatomy, I observe, laugh at those who imagine that what seems to be a
chance flow of certain liquids could have produced so beautiful a variety of part~ and
denounce them as rash and irreverent. And these latter, I observe also, treat the for-
mer in their turn as simple and superstitious, comparing them to the ancients who
regarded the physicists as impious when they maintained that it is not Jupiter who
thunders but some matter found in the clouds. 25 The best would be to combine the
two points of view, for if I be permitted to use a lowly comparison, I acknowledge and
praise the skill of a workman, not only in showing the plans which he had in making
the pieces of his machine, but also in explaining the tools which he has used in making
each piece, especially when these tools are simple and cleverly contrived. And God i~
an artisan skilful enough to produce a machine a thousand times more ingenious than
that of our bodies, by using nothing but certain rather simple fluids formed expressly
in such a way that only the ordinary laws of nature are needed to give them the organi-
zation necessary to produce so admirable an effect. But it is true also that this would
not happen If God were not the Author of nature. Yet I find that the way of efficient
causes, which is in fact the profounder and in some ways the more immediate and a
priori, is on the other hand, rather difficult when one comes to details, and I believe
that for the most part our philosophers are still far from mastering it. The way of final
causes, however, is easier and is often useful for understanding important and useful
truths, which one would be a long time seeking by the other more physical route; of
this fact, anatomy can provide significant examples. I believe, too, that Snell, who first
discovered the rules of refraction, would have waited a long time to find them if he had
sought first to discover how light is formed. But apparently he followed the method
which the ancients used in catoptrics, which is in fact that of final causes. For seeking

the easiest way in which to direct a ray from one given point to another through
reflection by a given plane (assuming that the easiest way is the plan of nature), they
discovered the equality of the angles of incidence and reflection, as one can see in a
little treatise by Heliodorus of Larissa and elsewhere. This method, I believe, Snell,
and later though independently of him Fermat, applied most ingeniously to refraction.
For when rays in the same media observe a ratio between the sines which is equal to
the ratio of the resistances of the media, this happens to be the easiest, or at least the
most determined way to pass from a given point in one medium to a given point in
another. The demonstration which Descartes sought to give of this same theorem by
the method of efficient causes is not nearly so good. At least we have grounds to
suspect that he would never have found it by this method if he had not learned anything
of Snell's discovery in Holland. 26
23. To return to immaterial substances, it is explained how God acts on the under-
standing of spirits; and whether one always has the idea of that which he thinks. I have
found it proper to stress these considerations about final causes, incorporeal natures,
and an intelligent cause m connection with bodies in order to show their usefulness
even in physics and mathematics and thus to purge the mechanical philosophy, on the
one hand, of the impiety with which it is charged and, on the other hand, to raise the
spirit of our philosophers from exclusively material considerations to nobler medi-
tations. Now it will be fitting to return from bodie~ to immaterial natures, and particu-
larly to spirits, and to say something about the way God takes to enlighten them and
to act upon them. We must not doubt that there are certain laws of nature here also,
about which I could speak more fully elsewhere. At present it will suffice to say some-
thing about the doctrine of ideas, and whether we see all things in God, and the
sense in which God is our light. 27 It may be observed appropriately that a wrong
use of the ideas gives occasion for several errors. For when one reasons about
~omething, one imagines himself to have an idea ofthat thing, and this is the basis
on which certain philosophers, ancient and modern, have built one of the demon-
strations of God which is most imperfect. For I must have an idea of God, they say,
or of a perfect being, since I think of him, and one cannot think without an idea;
now the idea of this being includes all perfections, and existence is one of these;
therefore he exists. But since we often think of impossible chimeras, for example,
of the highest degree of speed, or the largest number, or the intersection of the con-
choid with its base or asymptote, this reasoning is insufficient. In this sense, then, we
can say that there are true and false ideas, according to whether the thing concerned
is possible or not. So one can boast of having an idea of a thing only when one is
assured of its possibility. Thus the argument given above at least proves that God
exists necessarily, if he is possible. It is indeed an excellent privilege of the divine
nature that it needs only its possibility or essence in order actually to exist, and this
is precisely what we mean by an ens a se.
24. On what constitutes clear or obscure, distinct or confused, adequate or inadequate,
intuitive or suppositive, knowledge; nominal, real, causal, and essential definition. In
order better to understand the nature of ideas, we must to some extent touch upon the
various kinds of knowledge. 28 When I can recognize one thing among others but
cannot say in what its differences or properties consist, my knowledge is confused. In
this way we sometimes know clearly, and without having a doubt of any kind, if a
poem or a picture is well done or badly, because it has a certain 'something, I know not
what' which either satisfies or repels us. But when I can explain the criteria I use, my
knowledge is called distinct. Of this kind is the knowledge of an assayer who distin-
guishes the true gold from the false by means of certain tests and marks which make
up the definition of gold. But distinct knowledge has degrees, for usually the concepts
which enter into the definition would themselves need definition and are known only
confusedly. But when everything which enters into a definition or distinct knowledge
is known distinctly, down to the primitive concepts, I call such knowledge adequate.
And when my mind grasps all the primitive ingredients of a concept at once and
distinctly, it possesses an intuitive knowledge. This is very rare, since for the most part
human knowledge is merely either confused or suppositive.
It is well also to distinguish nominal and real definitions. I call a definition nominal
when it can stilI be doubted that the defined concept is possible. So for example, if I
say that an endless screw is a line in three dimensions whose parts are congruent or
can be brought to coincide with each other, anyone who does not know from another
source what an endless screw is could doubt whether such a line is possible, even
though this is in fact one of the reciprocal properties of the endles,> screw, for the other
lines whose parts are congruent to each other (there are only two, the circumference of
a circle and the straight line) are plane figures, that is to say, they can be drawn in a
plane. This shows us that every reciprocal property can serve as a nominal definition
but that when the property makes us understand the possibility of a thing, it establishes
a real definition. As long as we have only a nominal definition, we cannot be sure of
the consequences drawn from it, for if it concealed some contradiction or impossi-
bility, we could draw conflicting conclusions. This is why truths do not depend on
names and are not arbitrary, as some modem philosophers have thought. Never-
theless, there is still a great difference between the kinds of real definitions, for when
possibility is proved only through experience, the definition is only real and nothing
more; as in the definition of quicksilver, the possibility of which we recognize because
we know that such a body, extremely heavy and yet rather volatile, is actualIy found.
But when the proof of possibility is presented a priori, the definition is both real and
causal, as when it contains the possible production of the thing. And when the definition
pushes its analysis back to the primitive concepts without assuming anything which
needs an a priori proof of its possibility, it is perfect or essential.
25. In what case our knowledge is combined with the comtemplation 0/ the idea. Now
it is obvious that we have no idea of a concept when it is impossible. And in the case
of merely suppo,itive knowledge, even if we may have an idea, we do not grasp that
idea, for such a concept is known only in the same way as are those concepts which
involve a hidden impossibility; even if it is possible, we cannot learn of its possibility
by this way of knowing. For example, when I think of the number 1,000, or ofa regular
polygon of a thousand sides, I frequently do it without grasping the idea; just as I do
when I say that a thousand is 10 times 100, without taking the trouble to think of what 10
and 100 are, because I suppose that I know it and do not think it necessary to stop just at
present to conceive them. So it may very well happen - as it does in fact often happen -
that I am in error about a concept which I suppose or believe I understand, although it
is in fact impossible, or at least incompatible with other concepts with which I combine
it. And whether I am in error or not, this suppositive way of forming concepts remains
the same. It is therefore only when our knowledge of confused concepts is clear, and
our knowledge of distinct concepts is intuitive, that we see their whole ideas.

26. That we have within us all of the ideas. Plato's doctrine of reminiscence. In order
properly to conceive correctly what an idea is, we must forestall an ambiguity, for
several thinkers take the idea for the form or the differential of our thoughts, and thus
we have an idea in our mind only insofar as we are thinking of it, and every time we
think of it anew we have another idea of the same thing, though it is similar to the
preceding ones. But others, it seems, take the idea to be an immediate object ofthought
or for some permanent 29 form which remains even when we no longer contemplate it.
As a matter of fact, our soul always does have within it the disposition to represent to
itself any nature or form whatever, when an occasion arises for thinking of it. I believe
that this disposition of our soul, insofar as it expresses some nature, form, or essence,
is properly the idea of the thing, which is in us and is always in us whether we think of
it or not. For our soul expresses God and the universe, and all the essences as
well as all the existences. This is in accord with my principle~, for nothing enters nat-
urally into our minds from without, and it is a bad habit we have of thinking as if our
soul received certain 'species' as messengers and as if it had doors and windows. 30 We
have all these forms in our own minds, and even from eternity, for at every moment the
mind expresses all its future thought and already thinks confusedly of everything of
which it will ever think distinctly. Nothing can be taught us the idea of which is not
already in our minds, as the matter out of which our thought is formed. This Plato has
excellently recognized in proposing his doctrine of reminiscence, a well-founded
doctrine provided it is taken rightly and purged of the error of pre-existence and pro-
vided that we do not imagine that the soul must already have known and thought
distinctly at some past time about what it learns and thinks now. Plato has also con-
firmed his opinion by a beautiful test, introducing a small boy, whom he gradually
guides toward the most difficult geometric truths about incommensurables without
teaching him anything, but merely asking the appropriate questions in good order. 31
This shows that our soul knows all these things virtually and needs only to turn its
attention to them to recognize truth, and therefore that it at least has the ideas upon
which these truths depend. One may even say that it already possesses these truths, if
we consider them as the relations between the ideas.
27. How our soul can be compared to empty tablets, and how our notions come from
sense. Aristotle preferred to compare our soul~ to tablets that are still blank but upon
which there is a place for writing and maintained that there is nothing in our under-
standing which does not come from the senses. This conforms more with popular
notions, as Aristotle usually does, while Plato goes deeper. Yet these kinds offormulas
or practical commonplaces are allowed in ordinary usage, in about the same way as
Copernicam continue to say that the sun rises and sets. I even find that such usages can
often be given a good meaning, according to which they involve no falseness, in the
same way that I have already shown in what sense we may truly say that particular
substances act upon each other. In this same sense we can also say that we receive our
knowledge from without through the ministry of the senses, because certain exterior
things contain or express more particularly the reasons which determine our sou to
certain thoughts. But when the exactness of metaphysical truths is involved, it is im-
portant to recognize the compass and independence of our soul, which reaches infini-
tely further than is popularly thought, even though we ascribe to it, in the language of
ordinary life, only what is most manifestly perceived and what pertains to us more
particularly, since under these conditions it serves no purpose to go further. It would
be appropriate, nevertheless, to choose fitting terms for the two meanings, in order to
avoid equivocation. So the expressions which are in the soul, whether conceived or
not, can be called ideas, but those which are conceived or formed can be called notions
or concepts. But in whatever sense they are taken, it is always false to say that all of
our notions come from the senses which are called external; for the notions which I
have of myself and of my thoughts, and, consequently of being, of substance, of action,
of identity, and of many others, come from an internal experience.
28. God is the only immediate object of our perceptions which exists outside of us, and
he only is our light. In the rigorous sense of metaphysical truth there is no external
cause which acts upon us except God alone, and he alone communicate~ himself to us
immediately by virtue of our continual dependence upon him. Whence it follows that
there is no other external object which affects our soul and immediately excites our
perception. It is also only by virtue of the continual action of God upon us that we
have in our soul the ideas of all things; that is to say, since every effect expresses its
cause, the essence of our soul is a certain expression, imitation, or image of the divine
essence, thought, and wiII and of all the ideas which are comprised in God. So it can
be said that God alone is our immediate object outside of us and that we see all things
through him; for example, when we see the sun and the stars, it is God who has given
us and preserves in us the ideas of them and who determines us, through his ordinary
concourse, actually to think of them at the moment when our senses are set in a cer-
tain manner, in conformity with the laws which he has established. God is the sun and
the light of souls - lumen illuminans omnem hominem venientem in hunc mundum 32 ;
and this opinion has not been invented only today. In addition to the Holy Scriptures
and the Fathers, who were always more Platonists than Aristotelians, I recall having
observed long ago that at the time of the Scholastics, several believed that God is the
light of the soul and as they put it, the intellectus agens animae rationalis. 33 The
Averroists gave this a bad turn of meaning, but others, among them William of Saint
Amour, I believe, and several mystical Theologians, understood it in a way worthy of
God and capable of elevating the soul to a knowledge of its true good.
29. Nevertheless we think immediately through our own ideas and not through those
of God. I am not of the opinion of certain able philosophers, however, who seem to
hold that our ideas themselves are in God and not at all in us. In my opinion this
results from their failure adequately to consider the nature of substances as we have
here explained it, and the full compass and independence of the soul, which includes
all that happens to it and expresses God and with him all actual and possible beings as
an effect expresses its cause. It is also inconceivable that I should think by means of the
ideas of someone else. The soul, too, must actually be affected in a certain way when
it is thinking of something, and must therefore have within it, in advance, not merely
a passive power of being thus affected, a power already entirely determined, but also
an active power by virtue of which it has always had, within its own nature, marks of
the future production of this thought and the disposition to produce it at the proper
time. All this already enfolds the idea embraced in this thought. 34
30. How God inclines our soul without necessitating it; that there is no reason whatever
for complaint; that we must not ask why Judas sinned since this free action is contained in
his concept, but we must ask only why Judas the sinner, is admitted to existence in prefer-
ence to other possible persons. As for the action of God upon the human will, this in-
volves many rather difficult problems which it would take too long to pursue here.

322 LEI'BNIZ: PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS AND LETTERS
Yet these rough indications may be given. In concurring ordinarily with our actions,
God follows only the laws which he has established, that is to say, he continually pre-
serves and produces our being in such a way that our thoughts come to us spontaneously
or freely in the order which the concept of our individual substance implies. In this con-
cept it was possible to foresee them frpm all eternity. Furthermore, by virtue ofthe decree
which he has made that the will ~hall always strive toward the apparent good, by
expressing or imitating God's will pnder certain particular conditions (with respect to
which this apparent good always fS to some extent a true good), God determines our
will to choose what seems to be the best, but without constraining it. For in an abso-
lute sense the will is in a state of indifference, insofar as this is the opposite of necessity,
and it has the power to act otherwise or also to suspend its action ent,irely, since both
alternatives are and remain possible. It rests with the soul, therefore, to guard itself
against surprises coming from appearances by means of a firm will, to reflect, and not
to' act or judge in certain circumstances until after careful and mature deliberation. It
is nonetheless true and, indeed, even assured from all eternity that a certain soul will
not make use of this power in such circumstances. But whose fault is that? Can the
soul complain of anyone but itself? For all such complaints made after the deed are
unjust, if they would have been unjust before the deed as well. Could this soul, just
before sinning, in good faith complain of God as if he determined it to sin? Since the
determinations of God in such matters cannot be foreseen, how can the soul know that
it is determined to sin unless it is already sinning in fact? It is merely a question of not
willing, and God could not grant an easier and juster condition. So, too, all judges
consider only the question of how evil a man's will is, without seeking the reasons which
have disposed him to have an evil will. But can it be that it is assured from all eternity
that I shall sin? Answer this for yourselves; perhaps it is not. So instead of musing on
what you cannot know and what cannot give you any light, act according to the duty
which you know. But someone else may say, how does it come that this man will
certainly commit this sin? The reply is easy; it is that otherwise he would not be this
man. For God foresees from all time that there wiII be a certain Judas, whose idea or
concept which God has contains this future free act. There remains then only this
question: Why does such a Judas, a traitor, who is merely possible in the idea of God,
actually exist? But to this question no answer can be expected here on earth, except the
general one that since God has found it good that he should exist in spite of the sin
which God foresaw, this evil must be compensated for with interest in the universe and
that God wiII draw a greater good from it and that it wiII tum out finally that this
sequence of events, including the existence of this sinner, is the most perfect among all
other possible kinds. But as long as we are sojourners in this world, it will be impossible
always to explain the admirable economy of this choice; it is enough to know it with-
out understanding it. Here it is time to acknowledge the height of the riches, the depth
and the abyss, of the divine wisdom, without seeking a detail which involves infinite
considerations.
It is well understood, however, that God is not the cause of evil. For it is not only
after man 's fall from innocence that originalsin has got hold of the soul; even before, there
was an original limitation or imperfection connatural to all creatures, which makes
them capable of sin or failure. There is therefore no greater difficulty in supralapsa-
rianism than in other views. And to this, I believe, the opinion of St. Augustine and
other authors should be reduced who hold that the root of evil lies in nothingness,
that is, in the privation or limitation of creatures, which God graciously corrects by
that degree of perfection which it pleases him to give. This grace of God, whether
ordinary or extraordinary, has its degrees and measures; in itself it is always efficacious
in producing a definite proportional effect, and furthermore, it is always sufficient not
only to protect us from sin but even to accomplish salvation, provided that man meets
it with his own powers. But it is not always sufficient to surmount the inclinations of
man, for otherwise he would have nothing more to strive for, and this is reserved sole-
ly for the absolutely efficacious grace which is always victorious, whether through
itself or through the congruity of circumstances.
31. On the motives ofelection, on faith foreseen, on the middle science, on the absolute
decree, and that every thing reduces itself to the reason why God has chosen and resolved
to admit to existence a particular possible person whose concept includes just such a
sequence of graces and of free actions. This brings to an end at once all the difficulties.
Finally, God's acts of grace are those of an entirely pure grace, and creatures have no
claim upon them. Yet in accounting for the choices which God makes in dispensing
his grace, it is not enough to have recourse to his absolute or conditional foresight in-
to the future actions of men. Just so it is also a mistake to imagine absolute decrees
without any reasonable motive. As for God's foreknowledge of faith and good works,
it is most true that God has elected only those whose faith and charity he has foreseen,
quos se fide donaturum praescivit. 3s But the same question once more arises: Why will
God give the grace of faith and good works to some rather than to others? As for this
knowledge of God, which is the foresight not of man's faith and good deeds but of the
material and predisposition for them, or that which man on his part would contribute,
it seems to some that one might say that God, seeing what man would do without
grace or extraordinary help, or at least what man would contribute on his side apart
from grace, might resolve to bestow his grace upon those who have the best natural
dispositions or at any rate, the least imperfect and evil dispositions. For there are
diversities on the side of man as truly as on the side of grace; man needs, indeed, to be
aroused to the good and converted, but he must also act afterward in this direction.
But if this be so, it could still be said that these natural dispositions, insofar as they
are good, are still the effect of a grace, though of ordinary grace, God having favored
some more than others. And since he very well knows that these natural advantages
which he gives will serve as motives of his extraordinary grace or assistance, is it not
ture according to this doctrine that eventually everything is reduced entirely to his
mercy? I think therefore that since we do not know how much and in what way God
takens into consideration the natural dispositions in dispensing his grace, it will be
most exact and certain to say, in accordance with our principles and as I have already
said, that among the possible beings there must be that person Peter or John whose
concept or idea contains the entire sequence of grace, ordinary and extraordinary,
along with all the other events and their circumstances, and that it has pleased God to
choose this one person for actual existence among an infinity of other equally possible
persons. With this it seems to me that all questions are answered and all difficulties
have vanished.
As for the one great question of why it has pleased God to choose one out of so
many other possible persons, it would be very unreasonable not to be content with the
general reasons which we have given, since the details lie beyond us. So instead of
having recourse to an absolute decree which is unreasonable since it has no reason,

or to reasons which do not solve the difficulty completely and need further reasons
themselves, it will be best to say, with St. Paul, that in this God has obeyed certain
great counsels of wisdom or of congruity unknown to mortals and based on the general
order whose end is the greatest perfection of the universe. It is to this that are reduced
the motives of the glory of God, ofthe manifestation of his justice as well as his mercy
and of his perfections in general, and finally, that immense depth of his riches with
which the soul of St. Paul himself was so transported. 36
32. Usefulness of these principles for matters of piety and of religion. For the rest, it
seems that far from harming religion, the thoughts which we have just presented -
particularly the great principle of the perfection of God's works and that of the con-
cept of substance which include~ all its experiences along with the circumstances under
which they occur - serve rather to confirm it, to dissipate very great difficulties, to in-
flame souls with a divine love, and to elevate spirits to the knowledge of the incorpo-
real substances much better than do the hypotheses which we have seen until now. For
it appears most clearly that all the other substances depend on God as our thoughts
emanate from our substance, that God is all in all, that he is closely united with all his
creatures, yet in proportion to their perfection, and that it is he alone who determines
them from without through his influence. If to act means to determine immediately,
then it can be said in this sense, in the language of metaphysics, that only God acts
upon me and only he can do good or evil to me, all other substances contributing only
in proportion to these determinations, since God, who takes them all into consideration,
distributes his goodness and compels all substances to adjust themselves to each other.
So only God, also, constitutes the link or communication between the substances, and
it is through him that the phenomena of the one meet with and agree with those of the
others and that consequently there is reality in our perceptions. In practice, however,
action is attributed to particular reasons in the sense which I have explained above,
because it is not necessary always to mention the universal cause in particular cases.
We see also that every substance has a perfect spontaneity, which becomes freedom in
the intelligent substances, that everything which happens to it is the result of its idea
or its being, and that nothing determines it save God alone. It is for this reason that
a person of exalted spirit, revered for her saintliness, was wont to say that the soul
should often think as if only God and itself were in the world. Nothing can give us a
stronger understanding of immortality than this independence and compass of the
soul, which protects it absolutely from all external things, since it alone makes up its
own world and is self-sufficient with God. And it is as impossible for the soul to perish,
except by annihilation, as it is for the world (of which it is a living, perpetual expression)
to destroy itself. It is therefore impo~sible that the changes in this extended mass which
is called our body could affect the soul in any way, or that the decomposition of the
body could destroy that which is indivisible.
33. Explication of the relation of the soul to the body, a matter which has been regarded
as inexplicable or as miraculous; and on the origin of confused perceptions. We are thus
unexpectedly brought to a clear insight into the great mystery of the union of body and
soul, that is to say, how it happens that the passions and actions of the one are accom-
panied by the actions and passions, or their corresponding phenomena, in the other.
For there is no way in which we can conceive of an influence 37 of the one on the other,
and it is unreasonable simply to have recourse to the extraordinary operation of the
universal cause in so ordinary and particular a thing. But the true principle is this: We
have said that everything which happens to the soul and to each substance follows
from its concept; hence the idea itself, or the essence of the soul, carries with it that all
its appearances or perceptions must arise spontaneously out of its own nature and in
just such a way that they correspond, by themselves, to what happens in the entire
universe but more particularly and more perfectly to what happens in the body which
is assigned to it. For the soul expresses the state of the universe only in a particular way
and at a definite time, according to the relation of other bodies to its own. This shows
us also how our body belongs to us without being attached to our essence. 38 I believe
that those who have the gift of meditation will judge favorably of our principles for
the single reason that they will be able to realize easily in what consists the connection
between the soul and the body, which seems inexplicable in any other way. We see also
that our sense perceptions, even when they are clear, must necessarily contain a certain
confused feeling, for, since all the bodies of the universe are in sympathy with each
other, ours receives impressions from all the rest, and though our senses are in res-
ponse to all of them, it is impossible for our soul to pay attention to every particular
impression. This is why our confused sensations result from a really infinite variety
of perceptions. This is somewhat like the confused murmur heard by those who
approach the seashore, which comes from the accumulation of innumerable breaking
waves. For if out of several perceptions which do not harmonize so as to make one,
there is no single one which surpasses the others, and if these perceptions make im-
pressions that are about equally strong and equally capable of holding the attention of
the soul, it can perceive them only confusedly.
34. 39 On the difference between spirits and other substances, souls or substantial
forms; that the immortality which is required includes memory. Assuming that the bodies
which make up a unum per se, for example man, are substances and that they have
substantial forms, and assuming that beasts have souls, we must admit that these souls
and substantial forms cannot entirely perish any more than can atoms or the ultimate
parts of matter in the opinions of other philosophers. For no substance perishes,
although it may become entirely different. Those substances, too, express the whole
universe, although more imperfectly than do the spirits. But the chief difference is that
they do not know what they are or what they do, and since, consequently, they cannot
reflect, they are unable to discover necessary and universal truths. It is also because
they lack reflection about themselves that they have no moral quality.40 Hence, though
animals may pass through a thousand transformations like that which we see when a
caterpillar changes into a butterfly, yet from the moral or practical point of view the
result is just as if they had perished; indeed, one may even say that they have perished
in a physical sense, that is, in the sense in which we say that bodies perish through
their corruption. But the intelligent soul, knowing what it is and being able to say this
little word 'I' which means so much, not merely remains and subsists metaphysically
(which it does in a fuller sense than the others) but also remains the same morally and
constitutes the same character. For it is memory or the knowledge of this 'I' which
makes it capable of punishment and reward. Likewise, the immortality which is
demanded in morals and religion does not consist merely in this perpetual subsistence
which is common to all substances, for without a memory of what one has been, there
would be nothing desirable about it. Suppose some private man should suddenly
become king of China, but only on condition that he forget what he had been, just as if
he were being born anew; would it not be the same practically, or so far as discernible

effects are concerned, if he were annihilated and a king of China created at the same
instant in his place? This particular man has no reason whatever to desire this.
35. The excellence of spirits; that God considers them preferable to other creatures;
that spirits express God rather than the world, while the other simple substances express
the world rather than God. But in order to support by natural reasons the view that
God will preserve for all time not merely our substance but also our person, that is to
say, the memory and knowledge of what we are (though the distinct knowledge is
sometimes suspended in sleep and in fainting fits), we must add morals to metaphysics.
That is to say, we must consider God, not only as the principle and cause of all sub-
stances and all beings, but also' as the head of all persons or intelligent substances and
as the absolute monarch of the most perfect city or state, such as is the universe com-
posed of all the spirits together, God himself being the most perfect of all spirits, as
well as the greatest of all beings. For certainly spirits are the most perfect of beings and
those which best express the divine being. And since the whole nature, end, power,
and function of substance is merely t,o express God and the universe, as we have ex-
plained at length, there is no reason to doubt that those substances which express him
with a knowledge of what they are doing, and which are capable of knowing the great
truths about God and the universe, express him better beyond all comparison than do
those natures which are either brutish or incapable of knowing truth or entirely
destitute of feeling and knowledge. Moreover, the difference between the intelligent
substances and those which have no intelligence at all is just as great as that between a
mirror and one who sees. And since God himself is the greatest and wisest of spirits, it
is easy to understand that the beings with whom he can enter into conversation, so to
speak, and even into a society, communicating his opinions and his will to them in a
particular manner and in such a way that they can recognize and love their benefactor,
must be infinitely nearer to him than all other things which can pass only for the in-
struments of spirits. So we see that all wise persons value man infinitely more highly
than any other thing, no matter how precious, and it seems that the greatest satisfaction
that a soul can have, which is content in other respects, is to see itself loved of others.
However there is this difference with respect to God - the glory and the worship which
we offer cannot add to his satisfaction, since the knowledge of creatures is only a result
of his sovereign and perfect happiness, far from contributing to it or being a partial
cause of it. However, whatever ;s good and re,\sonable in finite spirits is found pre-
eminently in him. And just as we would praise ~ king who prefers to save the life of
one man above that of his rarest and most preci~us animal, so we cannot doubt that
the most enlightened and most just of all monarchs is of the same opinion.
36. God is the monarch of the most perfect Republic consisting of all spirits, and the
happiness 0/ this City 0/ God is his principal design. Spirits are indeed the most perfec-
tible of substances, and their perfections have the particular advantage of interfering
with each other in the least possible degree, or rather of supporting each other, for
only the most virtuous can be the most perfect friends. Hence it obviously follows that
God, who always aims at the greatest general perfection, will have the greatest concern
for spirits and will give to them, not only in general but to each one in particular, the
greatest degree of perfection which the universal harmony can permit. It can even be
said that God, insofar as he is a spirit, is the origin of existences, for otherwise, if he
had lacked the will to choose the best, there would be no reason why one possible being
should exist in preference to others. So this property of God's being himself a spirit
comes before all other considerations which he may have with regard to the creatures.
Only spirits are made in his image and are, as it were, of his blood or like the children
of his household, for only they can serve him freely and act with knowledge in imi-
tation of the divine nature. One single spirit is worth a whole world, because it not
only expresses the world but also knows it and conducts its life there after the manner
of God. So it seems that though every substance expresses the whole universe, yet the
other substances express the world rather than God, while the spirits express God
rather than the world. This nature of spirits, so noble that they approach divinity as
closely as is possible for simple creatures, brings it about that God derives infinitely
more glory from theIl1 than from all the other beings or rather that the other beings
merely provide spirits with matter for glorifying him. This is why this moral nature of
God, which makes him the lord and monarch of spirits, is of a quite singular concern to
God personally, if we may say so. It is in this relation that he humanizes himself, that
he is willing to tolerate anthropomorphisms, and that he enters into a society with us,
as a prince with his subjects. So dear is this consideration to him that the happy and
flourishing state of his Empire, which consists in the greatest possible felicity of its
inhabitants, becomes his highest law.41 For happiness is to persons what perfection
is to beings. And if the highest principle ruling the existence of the physical world is
the decree which gives it the greatest perfection possible, the highest purpose in the
moral world, or the city of God which is the noblest part of the universe, should be to
spread in it the greatest possible happiness. It must not be doubted, therefore, that
God has ordered everything in such a way not only that spirits can live forever, which
is inescapable but also that they shall forever preserve their moral status, in order that
no person may be lost to the city, just as no substance is lost to the world. As a result they
will always know what they are, otherwise they would be incapable of reward and
punishment, botl\. of which are essential in a republic and especially in the most per-
fect one where nothing can be overlooked. Finally, since God is at the same time the
most just and the most.benevolent of monarchs and demands only a good will, provided
it be sincere and serious, his subjects cannot desire a better state. To make them per-
fectly happy, he asks only that they love him.
37. Jesus Christ has revealed to men the mystery and the admirable laws of the
Kingdom of,Heaven and the grandeur of the supreme happiness which God prepares for
those who ltve him. The ancient philosophers knew very little about these important
truths. Only Jesus Christ has expressed them divinely well and in a manner so clear
and simple that the dullest spirits have grasped them. His gospel has thus entirely
changed the aspect of human affairs; it has revealed to us the kingdom of heaven or
that perfect republic of spirits which deserves the title of the city of God, the admirable
laws of which he has revealed to us. He alone has made us see how much God loves us
and with what exactness he has provided for all that concerns us; how God who cares
for the sparrows will not neglect the reasonable creatures who are infinitely more dear
to him; how all the hairs on our head are counted; how heaven and earth may pass
away, but the word of God and all that pertains to the economy of our salvation shall
endure; how God has more concern for the least of these intelligent souls than for the
whole world-mechanism; how we ought not to fear those who can destroy bodies but
cannot do any harm to the souls, since only God can make the souls happy or wretched;
and how the souls of the righteous are protected by his hand against all the revolu-
tions of the world, since nothing can act upon them save God alone; how none of

our acts is forgotten but everything is placed on account, even idle words and a well-
used spoonful of water; finally, how everything work<; for the greatest good of those
who are good, and the righteous shall be as suns, so that neither our sense nor our
spirit has ever tasted anything approaching the happiness which God has prepared
for those who love him.
REFERENCES
1 Leibniz had been more specific in the original draft, writing 'les Spinozistes'. On Leibniz's
grounds for connecting Descartes's voluntarism and mechanism with Spinoza see No. 31,
land II.
2 "As a lesser evil is relatively good, so a lesser good is relatively evil."
8 In the original draft, "ofthe new Scholastics".
4 In the illustration originally added here, Leibniz used a geometrical example of the principle
ofthe best possible or of maximal determination: "For example, there is an infinity of regular
figures, but only one is the most perfect, the circle. If a triangle is to be made without any
specification of the kind, God would certainly make an equilateral triangle, because it is the
most perfect, absolutely speaking."
5 "To will the same thing and to dislike the same thing is true friendship."
6 Quietism is that extreme mystical doctrine according to which the soul, in surrendering
itself to God, is emptied of its own desires and purposes and achieves a state of passive con-
templation. The 17th-century movement was stimulated by the Guida spirituafe (1675) of
Miguel de Molinos, who died in the prison of the Inquisition in 1696. Among the leaders were
Mme Guyon and Fenelon, whose Explication des maximes des saints sur fa vie interieure was a
classic of the movement and a center of controversy, notably his own controversy with Bossuet.
7 Originally "the greatest perfection"; since pleasure is the perception of harmony or perfection,
the two terms are psychologically and metaphysically analogical to each other.
8 Thus the principle of parsimony is equivalent to the principle of the best possible or of
maximal determination.
9 In his Treatise on Nature and Grace Malebranche had restricted God's role in nature to the
willing of general principles. See p. 295, note 8.
10 Originally Leibniz had added: "as well as the actions and passions of these creatures them-
selves".
11 See Introduction, Sec. V, and p. 119, note II. Note that individual substance and logical
subject are united by Leibniz in the concept of suppositum.
12 "That here every individual is an infima species" (see p. 271, note 7).
13 Readingprovenante, in accordance with the first draft, rather thanprevenante, as in G., IV,
434.
14 Paracelsus' doctrine of an Archeus was popularized by the elder Van Helmont (Jean Baptiste,
1577-1644), whom Leibniz seems to have associated with it (G., IV, 217). For Leibniz's earlier
sources for similar doctrines see No.3 and p. 104, note 20.
15 The phrase that followed in the first draft was: "that bodies are not substances in strict
metaphysics (this was indeed the opinion of the Platonists), and ... ".
16 For the arguments for the relativity of space and time see the letters to Clarke (No. 71). They
are phenomenal but not subjective in the sense of Berkeley and Hume, for they rest upon the
well-ordered relationship of representational systems within existence which derive from the
harmonious laws of the individual monads.
17 Identity of past, present, and future is thus assured by the continuity involved in the
individual concepts of the monads. Reality which transcends the moment must be analogous
to mind.
18 The question arises of the relation of this contingency in man's choices to the subordinate
regulations of nature discussed in Sees. 7 and 17. These regulations are abstractions from
harmoniously serial laws possessing the same kind of contingency (or self-determination) as
man's, though sometimes much simpler. The question may well be raised whether these sub-
ordinate regulations, therefore, have the ontological status which Leibniz has assigned to them
or are not rather phenomenal.
19 How our judgments can be exempt from the determination of our acts by the law of our
nature, Leibniz does not say.
20 Solipsism and even a pluralism of island minds with private experiences are thus avoided,
since it is a universal and common realm of meaning which we represent when we think. This
Leibniz has shown in his earlier refutations of the arbitrariness of definitions and propositions
(No. 17, etc.). This passage also shows the difference between Leibniz's a priorism and Kant's.
Both find a region of universality and necessity as the basis for phenomena, and both derive
intellectual activity from it, but Leibniz's conception is metaphysical from the beginning, in
contrast to Kant's transcendentalism; the realm of universal and necessary truths is an absolute
which serves as regulative of our experience rather than constitutive of it.
21 On Leibniz's notion of mass see p. 103, note 8. His concept of mass is clearer than in his
early writings, however, being a quantitative measure of passive derivative force or inertia.
22 Leibniz here left a space in the manuscript to insert his paraphrase. His version may be
found in G., VII, 335, or more briefly, in No. 37. See also p. 276, note 3.
23 The reference is to the Theory 0/ Abstract Motion, Sec. 20 (No.8, I).
24 See the Tentamen anagogicum (No. 49). The argument was first published in 'Unicum
opticae, catoptricae et dioptricae principium', Acta eruditorum (1682).
25 To the old argument between Aristotelians and the moderns as to the nature of life, the
discoveries made possible by the microscope in the 17th century added new arguments for
both sides. Descartes, influenced by Bacon and Harvey, was of course the chief philosophical
authority for mechanism, which was confirmed by the analysis of various organic systems and
their functions, such as the lymphatic and other glands, the lungs, and the pyramid cells in the
brain. Leibniz's opinion mediates between this mechanism and the extreme vitalism of those
like Cudworth and More, and later even Stahl, who introduced animistic principles (see E.
Nordenskiold, The History 0/ Biology, New York 1929, chap. 11).
26 On the problem of the relation of Descartes's optics to Snell's, see Mach, The Principles 0/
Physical Optics (trans. Anderson and Young) (1925), pp. 32-33.
27 See Nos. 21 and 33 on the nature of ideas; also p. 271, notes 8, p. 295, notes 7
and 8.
28 Deleted in the first draft: "When I know the possibility of a thing merely through experience,
because everything that exists is possible, my knowledge is confused. It is thus that we know
bodies and their qualities. But when I can prove the possibility a priori, this knowledge is
distinct. "
29 Originally 'subsistent'. The two theories conform to Arnauld's conception of idea as the in-
ternal meaning of a perception and Malebranche's conception of an eternal object of our
intellect.
30 The Scholastic interpretation of impressed species as mediating between the object and the
intellect had led to a material interpretation of them supported by Suarez (De anima, Book iii,
chap. 1; Book iv, chap. 2) and others. The view had been critized by Descartes and Hobbes
and was discussed by Malebranche in the Recherche, III, Part II, chap. ii.
31 Meno 82c-f
32 "The light which lightens every man that cometh into this world" (John 1 :9).
33 "The active intellect of the rational soul."
34 Malebranche had restricted the activity of the soul to willing.
35 "Whom, he foresaw, he would endow with faith.
36 Cf. Rom. 8:28-30, 9:14-29, etc.
37 See p. 83, note 6.
38 Thus Leibniz does not regard the soul as the form or activating principle of the body but
views their relation as external and determined by the universal harmony. This view is often
confused, however, by statements that every composite body (sometimes every living body
only) has a uniting and reifying soul.
39 Originally Sec. 34 opened as follows: "I do not yet undertake to determine whether bodies
are substances, speaking with metaphysical rigor, or wl).ether they are only true phenomena
like the rainbow; nor, as a result, whether there are substances, souls, or substantial forms
which are not intelligent."
40 Originally, "no character [personnagej".
41 Originally, "the highest ofthe subalternate laws of his conduct".
36
CORRESPONDENCE WITH ARNAULD

1686-87
(Selections)
In February, 1686, Leibniz sent to Count Ernest of Hesse-Rheinfels a summary of his

'petit discours de metaphysique , in 37 propositions, to be transmitted to Antoine Arnauld
for his criticism. The latter entered into correspondence with Leibniz reluctantlY, seizing
upon one proposition, No. 13, only,for his criticism:
Since the individual concept of each person contains once for all everything that will ever happen
to him. one may see in it a priori the proofs or reasons for the truth of every event, or why one
thing happens rather than another. But however certain they may be, these truths are nonetheless
contingent, being founded on the free will of God and of creatures. It is true that there are always
reasons for their choice, but these reasons incline without necessitating.
In his letter to Ernest of March 13,1686, Arnauldfound this view frightening and without
utility, since it implied a 'llecessity more than fatal'. Beginning with the problem ofindivi-
dual freedom, the correspondence roughly falls into two parts. In the first Leibniz at
length wins a qualified assent to his proposition; in the second the discussion is extended
to the more general issues such as the nature of 'concomitance' or harmony, the role of
expression in sustaining it, and the interpretation of substance, particularly material
substance. The important concluding letters from each part - those of July 14, 1686, and
of October 9, 1687 - are here translated. Arnauld's criticisms are sufficiently clear from
Leibniz's carefully stated replies. The latter's Italianjourney closed the correspondence in
1687, though he tried without success to renew it in 1690 (No. 38).
[G., II, 47-59]

July 14, 1686 1
Since I have great deference for your judgment, I was happy to see that you have
moderated your criticism after seeing my explanation of the proposition which I regard
as important but which you found strange: that "the individual concept of each person
contains once and for all everything that will ever happen to him". From it you at
first concluded that from the single assumption that God resolved to create Adam, all
the remaining human events which happened to Adam and to his posterity followed by
a fatal necessity, so that God would no longer have the freedom to control them any
more than he could have failed to create a creature capable of thought after he had
made the decision to create me.
To this I replied that since the designs of God which concern this whole universe
are all interrelated in conformity with his sovereign wisdom, he made no decision

about Adam without taking into consideration everything which has any connection
with him. It is therefore not because of the decision made about Adam but because of
the decision made at the same time about everything else (to which the decision made
about Adam involves a perfect relation) that God makes up his mind about all human
events. There seems to me no fatal necessity in this, or anything contrary to God's
freedom, any more than in the generally accepted hypothetical necessity to which
God himself is subject, of carrying out what he has resolved.
In your reply, Sir, you agree with this relationship which I have proposed between
the divine decisions, and you even admit sincerely that at first you understood my
proposition in an entirely different sense,
because it is not customary, for example (these are your words), to consider the specific
concept of a sphere by its relation to that which it is represented to be in the divine mind but
by the relation to what it is in itself, and you believed (l admit with good reason) that this is
also true in the case of the individual concept of each person.
I, for my part, have thought that the full and comprehensive concepts are represented
in the divine mind as they are in themselves. 2 But now that you know that this is my
opinion, this will suffice for you to accept it as such and to examine whether it removes
the difficulty. You seem then to recognize, Sir, that explained in this way, my opinion
about full and comprehensive concepts such as are found in the divine mind is not
only free from offense but even right. For these are your words:
1 agree that the knowledge which God had of Adam when he resolved to create him includes
a knowledge of everything that has happened to him and everything that has happened or
will happen to his posterity, and that taking the individual concept of Adam in this sense,
what you say is most certain. 3
We shall soon see in what the difficulty which you still find here consists. Meanwhile
I shall say a word about the reason for the difference that exists here between the con-
cepts of species and those of individual substances with respect to the divine will
rather than to simple understanding. This difference is that the most abstract concepts
of species contain only necessary or eternal truths which do not at all depend on the
decrees of God (although the Cartesians say they do, you yourself do not seem to be
concerned about this point). But the concepts of individual substances, which are
complete and suffice to distinguish their subjects completely, and which consequently
enclose contingent truths or truths of fact, and individual circumstances of time,
place, etc., must also enclose in their concept taken as possible, the free decrees of God,
also viewed as possible, because these free decrees are the principal sources of existen-
ces or facts. Essences, on the other hand, are in the divine understanding prior to any
comideration of the will.
This will help us better to understand everything else and to satisfy the difficulties
which seem still to remain in my explanation. For you continue as follows:
But it seems to me that it still remains to ask - and it is here that my difficulty lies - whether
the connection between these objects (I mean Adam and human events) is such in itself
independently of all the free decrees of God, or whether it is dependent upon them. In other
words, whether it is only as a result of these free decrees by which God has ordained every-
thing that will happen to Adam and to his posterity that God knows everything t hat will
happen to them, or whether there is an intrinsic and necessary connection between Adam,
on the one hand, and all that has happened and will happen to him and his posterity on the
other, independently of these decrees.
It seems to you that I choose the second alternative, because I have said that "God has
found, among the possible ones, an Adam with such individual circumstances and
who has among his other predicates also that of having such a posterity in the course of
time".
You assume, now, that I will agree that possibilities are possible before all the free
decrees of God. Assuming then that this explanation of my meaning follows the
second alternative, you conclude that it contains insurmountable difficulties.
For (as you say quite rightly) there is an infinity of human events which happen through
particular ordinances of God, such for example, as the Jewish and the Christian religions,
and especially the incarnation of the divine Word. And I do not see how one can say that
all this (which has happened by the very free decrees of God) was included in the individual
notion of the possible Adam. He who is considered as possible must have everything which he
is conceived to have according to this concept, independently of the divine decrees.
I have tried to report your difficulty exactly, Sir, and now hope to meet it completely
even to your satisfaction. For it must have a solution, since we cannot deny that there is
truly such a full notion of Adam, accompanied by all his predicates and conceived as
possible, and that God knows this before he decides to create him, as you have agreed.
But I believe that the dilemma of the twofold explanation which you propose is not
exhaustive and that the connection which I conceive between Adam and human events
is intrinsic, indeed but not necessary independently of the free decrees of God, be-
cause the free decrees of God taken as possible, enter into the concept of a possible
Adam, while it is these same decrees of God become actual that are the cause of the
actual Adam. I agree with you as against the Cartesians that possibilities are possible
before all of God's actual decrees, but sometimes not without assuming these same
decrees considered as possibilities. For the possibilities of individuals or of contingent
truths include within their concepts the possibility of their causes, namely, the free
decrees of God. It is in this that they differ from the possibilities of species or of eternal
truths, which depend on God's understanding alone without involving his will, as I
have already explained above. 4
This may suffice. But in order to make myself better understood, I will add that I
think there is an infinity of possible ways in which to create the world, according to the
different designs which God could form, and that each possible world depends on
certain principal designs or purposes of God which are distinctive of it, that is, certain
primary free decrees (conceived sub ratione possibilitatis) or certain laws of the general
order of this possible universe with which they are in accord and whose concept they
determine, as they do also the concepts of all the individual substances which must enter
into this same universe. Everything belongs to an order, even miracles, though they
may be contrary to certain subordinate maxims or laws of nature. Hence, assuming
the choice of Adam as made, all human events must have happened as they have
happened in fact, but not so much because of the individual concept of Adam, though
this incloses them, as because of the designs of God which also enter into this indivi-
dual concept of Adam and which determine the concept of the whole universe, and
therefore the concept of Adam as well as those of all other individual substances in
this universe. Each individual substance expresses the whole universe of which it is a

part according to a certain relationship, through the connection which it has to all
things by virtue of the coherence of the decisions or purposes of God.
I find that you raise still another objection, Sir, which is not concerned with conse-
quences which seem to be contrary to freedom, as was the case in the objection which
I have just answered, but with the thing itself and with the idea which we have of an
individual substance. For since I have the idea of an individual substance, namely, the
idea of myself, you say:
It seems to be in this that we must seek what should be said about the concept of an individ ual
and not in the way in which God conceives individuals. I need only to consult the specific
concept of a sphere to conclude that the length of its diameter is not determined by its concept;
in the same way (you say) I can discover clearly in this individual concept which I have of
myself that I shall remain myself whether I make a journey which I ha're planned, or do not
makeit. 5
To reply distinctly to this, I agree that the connection of events, though certain, is not
necessary, and that I am free to make or not to make this journey. For although it is
included in the concept of me that I shall make this journey, it is also included that I
shall make it freely. And there is nothing whatever in me that can be conceived sub
ratione generalitatis seu essentiae seu notionis specificae sive incompletae 6 , from which
one can draw the conclusion that I shall make it necessarily, while on the contrary one
can conclude from the fact that I am a man that I am able to think and as a conse-
quence that if I do not make this journey, it will not conflict with any eternal or
necessary truth. Yet, since it is certain that I shall make it, there must be some connect-
ion between me, who am the subject, and the execution of the journey, which is the
predicate, for in a true proposition the notion of the predicate is in the notion of the
subject. If I did not make the journey, there would therefore be a falsehood which
would destroy my individual or complete concept, or what God conceives of me or
did conceive of me before he resolved to create me. For considered as possible, this
concept includes existences or truths of fact or the decrees of God upon which facts
depend.
I agree also that in order to judge the concept of an individual substance, it is well
to consult the concept which I have of myself, just as we must consult the specific con-
cept of a sphere to judge its properties. But there is a great difference between the
two, for the concept of myself In particular and of every other individual substance
is infinitely more inclusive and more difficult to grasp than is a specific concept such as
that of a sphere, which is incomplete and does not incl~de all the circumstances
necessary practically to arrive at a particular sphere. To t.\nderstand what this I is,
it is not enough that I sense myself as a substance that th~nks; I must also distinctly
conceive that which distinguishes me from all other possible spirits. 7 But of this I have
only a confused experience. Although it is easy, therefore, to judge that the length of
its diameter is not included in the concept of a sphere in general, it is not so easy to
judge with certainty - though it can be judged with enough probability - whether the
voyage which I plan to make is included in the concept of me. Otherwise it would be
as easy to.be a prophet as to be a geometrician. Yet experience cannot show me the
infinity of insensible things in my body of which the general consideration of the nature
of body and of motion can convince me. So likeWise, although experience cannot let
me sense everything that is included in my individual concept, I can know, in general,
through a general consideration of the individual concept, that everything which

pertains to me is included in it.
Surely, since God can form and does in fact form this complete concept which in-
cludes enough to explain all the phenomena that come to me, such a concept is possible
and is the true complete concept of what I call myself, in virtue of which all my pred-
icates pertain to me as their subject. This could be proved just the same, then, without
mentioning God 8, except insofar as it is necessary to indicate my dependence. But a
stronger expression is given to this truth by deriving the concept which we are examin-
ing from the divine knowledge as its source. I admit that there are many things in the
divine wisdom which we cannot understand, but it,seems to me that we do not need to
penetrate into them in order to answer our question. If in the life of some person,
moreover, or even in the universe as a whole, some event were to occur in a different
way than it actually does, there would still be nothing to prevent us from saying that
this would be another person or another possible universe which God has chosen.
And it would in that case be truly another individual. There must thus also be a reason
a priori, independent of my experience, which justifies us in saying truly that it is I
who was in Paris and that it is also I and not someone else who am now in Germany
and that consequently the concept of myself must combine or include these different
conditions. Otherwise it could be said that this is not the same individual, even though
it might seem to be. 9 Some philosophers, who have failed adequately to understand
the nature of substances or of indivisible beings, or beings per se, have in fact thought
that nothing remains truly the same. It is for this reason, among others, that I conclude
that bodies would not be substances if there were only extension in them.
I believe, Sir, that I have now satisfied your difficulties regarding the principal pro-
position. But since you also make some important comments on certain incidental
expressions which I have used, I shall try to explain these as well. I said that the suppo-
sition from which all human events can be deduced is not the creation of some vague
Adam but the creation of an Adam such that he is determined in all his circumstances
and chosen from an infinity of possible Adams. To this you make two important
remarks, one in opposition to a plurality of Adams, and the other in opposition to
the reality of merely possible substances. On the first point, you say with very good
reason, that it is no more possible to conceive of several possible Adams, if Adam be
taken as a singular nature, than it is to conceive of several 'myselves'. I agree. But when
I speak of several Adams, I do not take Adam for a determined individual but for
some person conceived in a relation of generality (sub ratione generalitatis), under
circumstances which s~m to us to determine Adam to be an individual but which do
not truly do so sufficitfu.tly; as for instance, when we mean by Adam the first man,
whom God puts in a pleasure garden, which he leaves through sin, and from whose
~ide God makes a woman. But all this does not sufficiently determine him, and so
there might be several other disjunctively possible Adams, or several individuals
whom these conditions fit. This is true no matter what finite number of predicates inca-
pable of determining all the rest one takes. But that concept which determines a cer-
tain Adam must include, absolutely, all his predicates, and it is this complete concept
which determines the relation of generality in such a way as to reach an individual
(rationem generalitatis ad individuum). For the rest, so far removed am I from
holding that a single individual is a plurality that I am even deeply convinced of
the teaching of St. Thomas about intelligences but hold that it is valid generally,

namely, that there cannot be two individuals entirely similar or differing only in
number.10
As for the reality of 'purely possible substances', or 'those which God will never
create', you say, Sir, that you are "strongly inclined to believe that they are chimeras",
an opinion to which I am not opposed, if as I think, you mean that they have no other
reality than that which they have in the divine understanding and the active power of
God. Yet you see by this, Sir, that in order to explain them satisfactorily, we are
forced to have recourse to the divine knowledge and power. Your next observation I
also find sound: that we never conceive of any purely possible substance except in
terms of 'some one' - or in terms of the ideas included in 'some one' - of those which
God has created.
We imagine (you add) that before God created the world he envisaged an infinity of possible
things, from which he chose some and rejected others; several possible Adams or first men,
each accompanied by a great train of persons with whom he is intrinsically connected. And
we assume that the connection of all these other things with one of these possible Adams (or
first men) is exactly like that which relates the created Adam with his whole posterity. So we
are led to believe that God has chosen this particular one out of all the possible Adams, and
that he did not will any of the rest.
In this you seem to recognize that these thoughts, which I admit are mine, provided the
plurality of Adams and their possibility be understood in the sense which I have
explained and provided that this is all regarded in terms of the way I conceive of a
definite order in the thoughts and acts which I ascribe to God - you seem, I say, to
recognize that they occur quite naturally to the mind when we think a little about the
matter and even that they cannot be avoided. Perhaps they have displeased you only
because you assumed that the intrinsic connection between these concepts cannot be
reconciled with the free decrees of God. Everything that is actual can be conceived as
possible, and if the actual Adam will have a certain posterity in the course of time,
one cannot deny this same predicate to this Adam thought of as possible, especially
since you agree that God envisages in him all his attributes when he decides to create
him. So these attributes pertain to him, and I do not see that what you say about the
reality of possibilities is contrary to this. In order to call something possible, it is
enough merely to be able to form a concept of it when it is only in the divine under-
standing, which is, so to speak, the realm of possible realities. As concerns possibles,
I am thus content that one can form true propositions from them; thus one can judge,
for example, that a perfect square implies no contradiction, even if there has never
been a perfect square in the world. If we wished absolutely to reject such pure possibles,
we should destroy contingency and freedom, for if nothing is possible except what God
has actually created, whatever God has created would be necessary, and in willing to
create something, God could create only that thing alone, without any freedom of
choice.
This leads me to hope that after the explanations I have given, to which I have
always attached reasons in order to convince you that they are not subterfuges con-
trived to evade your objections, your thoughts will in the end be found to be not so
far removed from mine as at first they seemed. You approve the interconnection of
God's decisions; you accept as certain my principal proposition in the sense in which
I explained it in my reply; you still question only whether I made this interconnection
independent of the free decrees of God, and this quite rightly has given you difficulty.
But I have shown that in my opinion it does depend upon his decrees and that though
it is intrinsic, it is not necessaryP You have insisted upon the difficulty there would be
in saying that if I do not take the journey which I should take, I am no longer myself,
and I have explained the sense in which this can be said or not. Finally, I have given a
decisive reason, which I believe has the force of a demonstration. It is that always, in
every true affirmative proposition, whether necessary or contingent, universal or
particular, the notion of the predicate is in some way included in that of the subject.
Praedicatum inest subjecto; otherwise I do not know what truth is.
Now I do not demand any further connection here than what is really found [a parte
rei] between the terms of a true proposition, and it is only in this sense that I say that
the concept of an individual substance includes all its events and all its denominations,
even those which are commonly called extrinsic 12 , that is, those which pertain to it
only by virtue of the general connection of things and from the fact that it expresses
the whole universe in its own way. For there must always be some foundation for the
connection between the terms of a proposition, and this must be found in their concepts.
This is my great principle, with which I believe all philosophers should agree, and one
of whose corollaries is the commonly held axiom that nothing happens without a
reason, which can always be given, why the thing has happened as it did rather than
in another way, even though this reason often inclines without necessitating. A perfect
indifference is a deceptive or incomplete assumption. It will be seen that I draw sur-
prising conclusions from this stated principle, but this is only because we have not
customarily carried our clearest knowledge far enough.
The proposition which has occasioned this discussion is, I may add, very important
and deserves to be firmly established, for it follows from it that every individual
substance expresses the entire universe in its own way and in a certain relationship, or
from that point of view, so to speak, from which it regards it. It follows also that its
subsequent state is the result, though free or contingent, of its preceding state, as if
there were only God and itself in the world. Thus each individual substance or com-
plete being is as a world apart, independent of every other thing but God. There is
no stronger demonstration, not only that our soul is indestructible, but also that it
preserves always within its nature the traces of all its preceding conditions with a virtual
memory which can always be awakened because the soul has consciousness of, or
knows within itself, that which each one calls 'myself'. It is this that makes it capable of
moral qualities and of punishment and reward, even after this life. For without
memory immortality would be worthless. Yet this independence does not prevent the
intercourse of substances with each other, for since all created substances are a con-
tinual production of the same sovereign being, by the same designs, and expressing the
same universe or the same phenomena, they correspond exactly with each other. This
leads us to say that one acts upon the other, because one expresses more distinctly
than does the other the cause or reason of their changes. This is very much like
our ascribing motion to a ship rather than to the whole sea, and with good reason,
even though, speaking abstractly, another hypothesis about motion could be set
up, since motion in itself, abstracted from its cause, is always something relative.
It is thus, I believe, that the intercourse between created substances must be under-
stood and not as a real physical influence or dependence; such an influence can
never be conceived distinctly. It is for this reason that some thinkers have been com-

pelled to admit that as concerns the union of soul and body, or the action and passion
of a spirit in relation to some other created being, their immediate interaction is in-
conceivable. Yet the hypothesis of occasional causes will not satisfy a philosopher, it
seems to me, because it introduces a kind of continuous miracle, as if God were at
every mo~ent changing the laws of bodies on the occasion of the spirits' thoughts or
were changing the regular course of the thoughts of spirits by arousing other thoughts
in them on the occasion of bodily motions; or in general, as if God as a rule interfered
in some other way than by preserving each substance in its course and in the laws
established for it. Thus only the hypothesis 0/ concomitance or of the correspondence of
substances with each other explains everything in a way that is understandable and
worthy of God and is even demonstrative and in my opinion inevitable on the basis
of the proposition which we have established. It seems to me also that it agrees better
with the freedom of reasonable creatures than does the hypothesis of impressions or
that of occasional causes. God created the soul in the first place in such a way that
ordinarily it has no need of these alterations. Whatever happens to the soul arises out
of its own depths without any need of its adapting itself to the body in successive
events, any more than the body needs to adapt itself to the soul. Each following its
own laws, the one acting freely, the other without any choice, each agrees with the
other in the same phenomena. In spite of all this, the soul is still the form of its body,
because it expresses the phenomena of all other bodies in accordance with their relation
to its own body.
It may be more surprising, perhaps, that I deny the action of one corporeal substance
upon another, which nevertheless seems so clear. But aside from the fact that others
have already done so, we must keep in mind that such action is a play of the imagination
rather than a distinct conception. If the body is a substance, and not a simple pheno-
menon like the rainbow, or a being united by accident or by aggregation, like a pile of
stones, it cannot consist in being extended, and we must of necessity conceive of
something which we may call its substantial form and which corresponds in some way
to the soul. After having long held otherwise, I have finally been convinced of this,
almost in spite of myself,13 Yet however much I may support the Scholastics in this
general and so to speak, this metaphysical explanation of corporeal principles, I
agree also as closely as anyone can with the corpuscular theory in the explanation of
particular phenomena, for to introduce forms or qualities here is to explain nothing. 14
We must always explain nature mathematically and mechanically, provided we keep in
mind that the principles themselves, or the laws of mechanics or of force, do not
depend on mere mathematical extension but on certain metaphysical reasons.
After all this, I believe that the propositions contained in the summary which was
sent to you, Sir, will now seem not only more understandable but perhaps also more
sound and more important than could have been thought at first.
II
[G., 11,111-29]
October 9, 1687 15
Since I shall always place great weight upon your judgment when you can be brought
to see the point at issue, I shall make an effort this time to make the positions which
I consider to be important and all but certain seem at least tenable, if not certain, to
you. For it does not seem to me difficult to reply to the doubts which you still have;
these come, in my opinion, only from the fact that however able a person may be,
if he has preconceptions and his mind is distracted by other matters, he finds it very
difficult at first to enter into a new line of thought, especially of a kind where figures,
models, and sense perception are of no help.
I have said that the soul, which naturally expresses the entire universe in a certain
sense and according to the relationship which other bodies have to its own, and which
as a consequence expresses more immediately the properties of the parts of its body,
must therefore, by virtue of the laws of relationship which are essential to it, parti-
cularly express certain unusual motions of the parts of its body. This happens when it
feels pain. To this you reply that you have no clear idea of what I mean by the word
express. If I understand by it a thought, you do not agree that the soul has more
thought and more knowledge of the motion of the lymph in the lymphatic ducts than
it has of the satellites of Saturn. But if I mean something else (you say), you do not
know what it is. Therefore (assuming that I cannot explain it distinctly) this term will
in no way help us to understand how the soul can give itself a feeling of pain, since to
do this it would already have to know (in your opinion) that I had been pricked,
instead of which it arrives at this knowledge only through the pain which it felt.
In reply to this criticism, I shall explain the term which you judge to be obscure, and
I shall apply it to the difficulty which you have raised. One thing expresses another,
in my usage, when there is a constant and regular relation between what can be said
about one and about the other. It is in this way that a projection in perspective ex-
presses a geometric figure. Expression is common to all the forms and is a genus of
which natural perception, animal feeling, and intellectual knowledge are species. In
natural perception and feeling it suffices that what is divisible and material and is
found dispersed among several beings should be expressed or represented in a single
indivisible being or in a substance which is endowed with a true unity. The possibility
of such 16 a representation of several things in one cannot be doubted, since our soul
provides us with an example of it. But in the reasonable soul this representation is
accompanied by consciousness, and it is then that it is called thought. Now this
expression takes place everywhere, because every substance sympathizes with all the
others and receives a proportional change corresponding to the slightest change
which occurs in the whole world, although this change will be more or less noticeable
as other bodies or their actions have more or Jess relationship with ours. With this I
believe Descartes would himself have agreed, for he would undoubtedly grant that,
because of the continuity and divisibility of all matter, the slightest movement exerts
its effect upon near-by bodies, and so from body to body to infinity, but in diminishing
proportion. So our body must be affected in some way by the changes of all the rest.
Now to all the motions of our body there correspond certain perceptions or thoughts of
our soul, more or less confused; thus the soul will also have some thought of all the
motions of the universe, and in my opinion every other soul or substance will have
some perception or expression of it. It is true that we do not perceive all the motions of
our body distinctly, as for example, that of the lymph. But to make use of an example
which I have already used, I must have some perception of the motion of each indivi-
dual wave on the shore, in order to be able to perceive what results from the whole,
namely, the great noise which is heard near the sea. So we also sense some confused
result of all the motions taking place within us, but being accustomed to this internal

motion, we do not perceive it clearly and with reflection except when there is an im-
portant change, as in the beginning of illnesses. It would be desirable for physicians to
work at the task of making a more exact distinction among the kinds of confused
feelings which we have of our body. Now, since we perceive other bodies only through
the relation which they have to ours, I was right in saying that our soul expresses best
what pertains to our own body. Also, we should not know the satellites of Saturn and
Jupiter except as the result of a motion taking place in our eyes. In all this, I believe,
a Cartesian would agree with me, except that I assume that there are surrounding us
souls other than ours, to whom I ascribe an expression or perception inferior to thought,
while the Cartesians, instead, deny that beasts feel and admit no substantial forms
outside of man. But this does not affect the question which we are discussing at pres-
ent, namely, the cause of pain. We are now concerned with knowing how the soul
perceives the motions of its body, since we do not see any means of explaining through
what channels the action of an extended mass is transmitted to an indivisible being.
The common run of Cartesians admit that they cannot give a reason for this union;
the author~ of the hypothesis of occasional causes consider it a nodus vindice dignus,
cui Deus ex machina inter venire debeatP I myself explain it in a natural way. By the
concept of substance or of a completed being in general, which implies that its present
state is always a natural result of its preceding state, it follows that it is the nature of
each individual substance, and consequently of each soul, to express the universe. It
has been created from the beginning in such a way that by virtue of the laws of its own
nature it must come to agree with all that takes place in bodies. and particularly in its
own. So we need not be surprised at the fact that it is its nature to represent the prick to
itself at the moment that this happens to its body. To complete my explanation of this
matter,let there be:
The state of the body at moment A The state of the soul at moment A
The state of the body at the The state of the soul at the
following moment B (prick) following moment B (pain)
Just as the state of the body at moment B follows the state of the body at moment A,
so the state of the soul at B follows from the preceding state of the same soul at A,
in accordance with the concept of substance in general. But the states of the soul are
naturally and essentially expressions of the corresponding states of the world and
particularly of the bodies which then belong to them. Since, therefore, the prick is a
part of the state of the body at moment B, the representation or expression of this
prick, which is pain, will also be a part of the state of the soul at moment B. For as
one movement follows another, one representation similarly follows another in a
substance whose nature it is to be representative. So the soul must perceive the prick,
since the laws of correspondence require that it should express more distinctly any
more noticeable change in the parts of its body. It is true that the soul does not always
perceive the causes of the prick and of its future pain distinctly, when these are still
concealed in the representation of state A, as i~ the case when one is asleep or for some
other reason does not see the pin approaching. But this is because the pin then makes
too small an impression upon us, and although we are already affected in some way
by all the motions and their representations in our soul, and so have within us the
representation or expression of the causes of the prick, and therefore the cause of
the representation of this same prick, that is, the cause of the pain, we cannot untangle
them from so many other thoughts and motions until they become noticeably strong.
Our soul reflects only on more unusual phenomena which are singled out from the
rest; it does not think distinctly of any when it thinks equally of all. After all this I
cannot guess where one can still find the slightest shadow of difficulty, unless we are to
deny that God can create substances so constituted from the beginning that by virtue of
their own nature they thereafter agree with the phenomena of all the others. But there
is no apparent ground whatever for denying this possibility. For we see that mathe-
maticians represent the motions of the heavens in a mechanism, as when
Jura poli rerumque fidem legesque deorum
Cuncta Syracusius transtulit arte senex 18
- a thing which we can do much better today than could Archimedes in his day. Why
should not God, then, who infinitely surpasses the mathematicians, be able to create
representative substances in the beginning in such a way that by their own laws and
following the natural change of their thoughts or representations, they express every-
thing which must happen to every body? It seems to me that this is not only easy to
conceive but also worthy of God and of the beauty of the universe and in some sense
necessary. For all substances should be in mutual harmony and interrelation, and all
should express within themselves the same universe and its universal cause, which is the
will oftheir Creator, and the decrees or laws which he has set up so that they may adjust
themselves to each other in the best way possible. This mutual correspondence of diffe-
rent substances (which cannot act upon each other, speaking with metaphysical rigor,
and which nevertheless agree as though they were acting upon each other) is also
one of the strongest proofs of the existence of God or of a common cause which each
effect must always express according to its point of view and its capacity. Otherwise
the phenomena of different spirits would not at all accord with each other, and there
would be as many systems as there are substances; or better, it would be pure chance
if they were sometimes to agree. The whole concept which we have of time and space
is based on this agreement; but I should never finish if I had to explain everything
exhaustively that is involved in our subject. Yet I should prefer to be lengthy rather than
to fail in expressing myself adequately.
To go on to your other doubts, I think, Sir, that you will now see what I mean when
I say that a corporeal substance gives itself its motion, or rather what is real in motion
at each moment, namely, the derivative force from which motion follows. For every
present 19 state of a substance is the result of its preceding state. It is true that a body
which has no motion cannot impart motion to itself, but I hold that there is no such
body.20 You will say that God can reduce a body to the state of perfect rest, but I
reply that God can also reduce it to nothing and that this body, deprived of action and
passion, cannot in any sense comprise a substance. At least it suffices to say that if God
should ever reduce any body to perfect rest, a thing which can happen only through a
miracle, a new miracle would be needed to give it some motion. You will see, also, that
my opinion confirms rather than destroys the proof of a prime mover. A reason must
always be given for the beginning of motion, for its laws, and for the agreement of
motions with each other, and this cannot be done without having recourse to God.
Furthermore, my hand does not move because I will it, for I might well will a moun-
tain to move, but unless I have a most miraculous faith it will not happen; my hand
moves because I could not successfully will its motion except at the exact moment when

the muscles of the hand make the contractions necessary to that end. All the more true
is it that the passions of my soul agree with the motions of my body. The two always
accompany each other by virtue of the correspondence which I have established above,
but the immediate cause of each is within itself.
I come to the matter of the forms or souls, which I hold to be indivisible and in-
destructible. I am not the first to hold this opinion. Parmenides, of whom Plato speaks
with veneration, as well as Melissus, maintained that there is only apparent generation
and corruption, as Aristotle testifies in the De caelo, Book 3, chapter 2. And the author
of the first book De diaeta, which is ascribed to Hippocrates, says explicitly that an
animal cannot be engendered entirely anew or entirely destroyed. Albertus Magnus and
John Bacon seem to have believed that substantial forms already lie concealed in
matter from eternity; Fernel has them descend from heaven; not to mention those who
take them from the world soul. These men have all seen a part of the truth but have
not developed it. 21 Many of them believed in transmigration, others in the traduction 22
of souls, instead of noticing the transmigration that also transforms an animal already
formed. Others, unable to explain the origin of forms in any other way, agreed that
they originate by a true creation. And whereas I admit this creation in temporal
succession only in the case of reasoning souls, and hold that all forms which do not
think were created with the world itself, they believe, by contrast, that it takes place
every day in the generation of the smallest worm. Philoponus, an ancient interpreter of
Aristotle, in his book against Proclus, and Gabriel Biel seem to have been of this
opinion. St. Thomas seems to me to consider the soul of beasts to be indivisible.
Our Cartesians go even further, for they maintain that every true soul and substantial
form must be indestructible and without generation. This is why they deny souls to
beasts, although Descartes says in a letter to Henry More 23 that he cannot be sure
that they have none. Since no offense is taken at those who introduce atoms which
subsist permanently, why should it be found strange when the same thing is said about
souls, to which indivisibility belongs by their very nature, especially since this becomes
necessary when we combine the Cartesian conception of substance and the soul
with that which everyone holds about the soul of beasts? It will be difficult to rid man-
kind of this opinion which has been held always and everywhere and which is universal
if any opinion deserves that term, namely, that beasts have feelings. Now assuming
that it is true, my view about these souls is not only necessary on Cartesian principles;
it is also important for morality and religion, in order to destroy a dangerous opinion
to which many intelligent persons are inclined and which the Italian philosophers who
follow Averroes have spread abroad, namely, that particular souls return to the world
soul when animals die. This is in conflict with my demonstrations of the nature of
individual substance and cannot be conceived of distinctly, since every individual
substance must forever subsist separately, once it has begun to exist. This is why the
truths I advance are very important. All who recognize that beasts have souls should
approve them, while others ought at least not to find them strange.
Now to come to your doubts about this indestructibility.
1. I maintained that we must acknowledge something in bodies which is a truly
single being, since the matter or extended mass itself can never be other than many
beings [plura entia], as St. Augu~tine, following Plato, very well observed. Now I infer
that where there is not even one thing that is a true being, there cannot be many beings
and that every multitude presupposes a unity. To this you make various answers, but
without touching the argument itself. This you do not threaten, since you use only
ad hominem arguments and point out weaknesses, trying to show that what I say is
inadequate to meet the difficulty. First of all, you are surprised that I can make use
of a reason which would be appropriate for Mr. Cordemoi, who explains everything
by atoms, but which must necessarily be false for my position (as you judge it), since
leaving aside animated bodies, which make up less than the hundred-millionth part of
the rest, all other beings must necessarily be plura entia, so that the difficulty returns.
But I see from this, Sir, that I have not explained myself well enough for you to under-
stand my hypothesis. For aside from the fact that I do not remember having said that
there is no substantial form outside of souls, I am far from holding the opinion that
animated bodies are only a very small part of the rest. For I believe rather that every-
thing is filled with animated bodies. And in my opinion there are incomparably more
souls than there are atoms according to Mr. Cordemoi 24 , who makes their number
finite, while I hold the number of souls, or at least of forms, to be infinite. And since
matter is infinitely divisible, no portion can be designated so small that it does not
contain animated bodies, or at least bodies endowed with a primitive entelechy or,
if you permit me to use the concept of life so generally, with a vital principle; in short,
corporeal substances, of all of which one can say in general that they are living.
2. As for the other difficulty which you made, Sir, namely, that the soul joined to
matter is not truly one being, since matter is not truly one in itself and the soul gives
it, as you think, only an extrinsic denomination; I reply that it is the animated sub-
stance to which this matter belongs which is truly a being and that matter, taken for
the mass in itself, is only a phenomenon or a well-founded appearance, as are space
and time also. It does not even have the exact and fixed qualities which could make it
pass for a determined being, as I have already implied in my last letter, because in na-
ture even the figure which is the essence of an extended and bounded mass is never
exact or rigorously fixed on account of the actual division of the parts of matter to the
infinite. There is never a globe without irregularities, or a straight line without inter-
mingled curves, or a curve of finite nature without being mixed with some other, and
this in its small parts as in its large; so that far from being constitutive of the body,
figure is not even an entirely real and determinate quality outside of thought. One can
never assign a definite and precise surface to any body, as could be done if there were
atoms. 2S I can say the same thing about magnitude and motion, namely, that these
qualities or predicates are of the nature of phenomena, like colors and sounds, and
though they involve more distinct knowledge, they can no more sustain a final ana-
lysis. As a consequence, extended mass considered without entelechies and consisting
only in these qualities is not the corporeal substance but a mere phenomenon like the
rainbow. Philosophers have also recognized that it is the form that gives detenninate
being to matter, and those who have not taken this into consideration will never
escape from the labyrinth of the composition of the continuum once they enter it. It is
only indivisible substances and their different states which are absolutely real. Par-
menides, Plato, and other ancient thinkers have rightly seen this. For the rest, I agree
that the name one can be given to an aggregate of inanimate bodies even if no form
unites them; thus I can say, 'This is one rainbow or one herd.' But this is merely a
phenomenal unity or a unity in thought, which is insufficient for the reality within the
phenomena. 26
3. You object that I ascribe substantial forms only to animate bodies - a view.

however, which I do not remember having taken. 27 But since all organized bodies are
plura entia (you continue), it follows that the forms or souls, far from making them
one being, rather require several beings in order that the body can be animated. I
reply that, assuming there is a soul or entelechy in beasts or in other corporeal sub-
stances, we must reason in this matter just as we all reason in regard to man. Man is a
being endowed with a true unity given him by his soul, in spite of the fact that the
mass of his body is divided into organs, ducts, humors, and spirits and that these parts
are undoubtedly filled with an infinity of other corporeal substances endowed with
their own entelechies. Since this third objection substantially merges with the preceding
one, the solution given there will also apply here.
4. You conclude that there is no basis for giving a soul to beasts and that if they
had one, it would have to be a spirit, that is, a substance which thinks, since we know
only bodies and spirits and have no idea whatever of any other substance; but that it is
difficult to believe that an oyster thinks or a worm thinks. This objection applies
equally to all who are not Cartesians. But aside from the fact that we must believe that
what the whole human race has always held to be true about the feeling of beasts can-
not be entirely without reason, I believe that I have shown that every substance is in-
divisible and thattherefore every corporeal substance must have a soul or at least an en-
telechy which is analogous to the soul, since otherwise bodies would be only phenomena.
To hold that every substance which is indivisible - this would, in my opinion, be
every substance in generalis a spirit and must think seems to me incomparably more
rash and unfounded than is the conservation of forms. We know only five senses and
a limited number of metals; must we conclude that there are no others in the world? It
is far more probable that nature, which loves variety, has produced forms other than
those which think. If I can prove that there are no other figures of the second degree
than the conic sections, this is because I have a distinct idea of these lines which gives
me a method for arriving at their exact classification. But since we have no distinct idea
of thought, and cannot demonstrate that the concept of an indivisible substance is the
same as that of a substance which thinks, we have no basis for this assertion. I agree
that the idea which we have of thought is clear, but not everything that is clear is also
distinct. We know thought only through an internal sense, as Father Malebranche has
already remarked. 28 But through sense we can know only the things we have expe-
rienced, and since we have not experienced the functions of other forms, we need not
be surprised that we have no clear idea of them, for we could not have one even if we
were agreed that there are such forms. It is wrong to try to use confused ideas, no
matter how clear they may be, to prove that something is impossible. And when I
consider only distinct ideas, it seems to me conceivable that divisible phenomena or a
plurality of beings can be expressed or represented in a single indivisible being; and
this is sufficient for the concept of a perception, without the necessity of adding
thought or reflection to this representation. I should like to be able to explain the
differences or degrees of the other immaterial expressions which are without thought,
in order to distinguish corporeal or living substances from the animals so far as they
can be distinguished. But I have not yet meditated enough about this and have not
sufficiently observed nature to be able to distinguish the forms by the comparison of
their organs and activities. On the basis of very important analogies in anatomy, Mr.
Malpighi is strongly inclined to believe that plants can be included in the same genus
with animals and that they are imperfect animals. 29
5. It now remains for me merely to reply to the difficulties which you allege against
the indestructibility of substantial forms. First of all, I am surprised that you find this
strange and untenable, because according to your own opinions, everyone who as-
cribes a soul and feeling to beasts must maintain this indestructibility. These supposed
difficulties are only prejudices of the imagination which may stop the popular mind
but which can have no effect upon mind" capable of meditation. I think, too, that it
will be easy to satisfy you in regard to them. Those who conceive that there is as it
were an infinity of small animals in the least drop of water, as Mr. Leeuwenhoek has
shown, and who do not find it strange that matter should be filled everywhere with
animated substances, will not find it any more strange that there is something animated
even in ashes, so that fire can transform an animal and reduce it to small size, instead of
destroying it entirely. What can be said of one caterpillar or silkworm can be said of a
hundred or a thousand animals. It does not follow that we should see the silkworm
arise again from the ashes, for perhaps this is not the order of nature. I know that
several people have affirmed that the seminal powers remain in the ashes in such a way
that plants can arise from them again, but I do not want to make use of any doubtful
experiences. I am unable to determine whether these small organized bodies, which
are inclosed by a kind of contraction in a greater body which has just been corrupted,
stand entirely out of the line of generation, as seems to be true, or whether they can
return to the stage in their time. These are the decrees of nature, about which men
should acknowledge their ignorance.
6. It is only apparently and in terms of the imagination that the difficulty is greater
in the case of larger animals which are seen to arise only from the union of two sexes.
This seems to be no less true of the smallest insects. I learned some time ago that
Mr. Leeuwenhoek holds opinions very close to mine, in that he believes that even the
largest animals arise through a kind of transformation. I do not venture either to
approve or to reject the details of his opinion, but I hold this to be true in general, and
Mr. Swammerdam, another great investigator and anatomist, gives enough evidence of
also inclining toward it. The opinions of these men in such matters are worth as much
as those of many other men. It is true that so far as I have seen, they do not extend this
opinion so far as to say that corruption and death itself is also a transformation in the
case of living beings devoid of a reasonable soul, as I hold it to be. But I believe that
if they were informed about this opinion, they would not find it absurd, and there is
nothing more natural than to think that whatever has no beginning will also never
perish. When one recognizes that all generation is but the increase and development of
an animal which is already formed, it is easy to be persuaded that corruption or death
is nothing but the diminution and involution of an animal which does not cease to
subsist and to remain alive and organized. It is not as easy, it is true, to make this
credible by means of particular observations as is the case in generation, but the reason
is obvious; it is because generation proceeds in a natural manner, little by little, so that
we have leisure to observe it, but death is a sudden reverse by a leap [per saltum] a
return all at once to parts which are too small for us, because death ordinarily occurs
in too violent a way to permit us to observe the details of the retrogression. Never-
theless, sleep, which is an image of death; and ecstasy; and the envelopment of a
silkworm in its cocoon, which can pass for death; the resuscitation of drowned flies by
covering them with a certain dry powder (instead of which they would have died
completely if left alone); the reviving ofswallows which make their winter quarters in the

reeds and are found without an appearance of life; and finally, the experiences of men
frozen to death, drowned, or strangled, who have been brought back to life, about
which a man of discernment has recently written a book in German, giving examples
from his own experience and urging people who are confronted with such cases to
make greater efforts to reviye them than is usually done and describing methods - all
these things serve to confirm my opinion that these different states differ only in
degree. If we do not have the means for bringing about resuscitation in other kinds of
death, this is only because we do not known what must be done, or knowing it, our
hands, our instruments, and our other remedies are inadequate, especially when the
dissolution proceeds at once to the very small parts. Therefore we must not stop with
the common conceptions of death or life, since we have both analogies and, what is
more, firm arguments which prove the contrary. For I believe I have shown sufficiently
that there must be entelechies if there are corporeal substances and that if we grant
these entelechies or these souls, we must recognize that they are incapable of generation
and destruction. It is incomparably more reasonable,' accordingly, to conceive of
transformations of animated bodies than to imagine the passage of souls from one
body to another, an ancient conviction which apparently comes only from transfor-
mation poorly understood. To say that the souls of beasts remain without a body or
that they remain hidden in an unorganized body - all this seems less natural. Whether
the animal resulting from the contraction of the body of the ram which Abraham
sacrificed in place of Isaac should be called a ram is a question of terms, somewhat like
the question of whether a butterfly can be called a silkworm. Your difficulty with this
ram reduced to ashes, Sir, arises only because I did not explain myself sufficiently. For
you assume that there remains no organized body in the ashes, and this gives you a
right to say that such an infinity of bodiless souls would be a monstrosity, while I
assume that there is no soul in the natural order without an animated body and no
animated body without organs. Neither ashes nor other masses seem to me incapable
of containing organized bodies.
As for spirits, that is substances which think and are capable of knowing God and
discovering eternal truths, I hold that God governs them according to laws which differ
from those by which he governs the other substances. For while all the forms of sub-
stances express the whole universe, it can be said that the substances of beasts express
the world rather than God, but that spirits express God rather than the world. Also,
God governs the substances of beasts according to the material laws of force or of the
transmission of motion. But he governs spirits according to the spiritual laws of
justice, of which the others are incapable. It is for this reason that the substances of
beasts can be called material, because the economy which God follows with respect to
them is that of a worker or a mechanic; but with respect to spirits God fulfils the
function of a prince or a legislator, which is infinitely higher. With regard to material
substances God is only what he is in relation to everything - the universal Author of
beings. He assumes another role with regard to spirits, in which we are led to conceive
him as endowed with will and moral qualities, since he is himself a spirit, and as one
among us, he even enters with us into the relationship of a society, of which he is the
head. And it is this society or universal republic of spirits under this sovereign monarch
which is the noblest part of the universe, being composed of so many little god~ under
this supreme God. For one may say that created spirits differ from God only in degree,
or as finite to infinite. It can truly be said that the whole universe was not made ex-
cept to contribute to the ornament and happiness of this City of God. This is why
everything is arranged in such a way that the laws of force or purely material laws
work together everywhere to carry out the laws of justice or of love, so that nothing can
harm the souls which are in the hand of God, and everything must work for the greatest
good of those who love him. It is for this reason that spirits must preserve their per-
sonalities and their moral qualities, so that the City of God will lose no person; they
must particularly preserve some kind of reminiscence or consciousness, or the power
to know what they are, upon which all their morality, sufferings, and punishments
depend. As a result they must be exempt from those upheavals of the universe which
would make them entirely unknowable to themselves, so that in the moral sense, they
would be another person. For the substances of beasts, on the other hand, it is enough
if they merely remain the same individual in a metaphysical sense, though they may be
subject to all imaginable changes, since they are also without consciousness or reflect-
ion. As for the details of this state of the human soul after death, and the way in which
it is exempt from the upheavals of the world, only revelation can instruct us in the
particulars; the jurisdiction of reason does not reach so far. An objection will perhaps
be made to my holding that God has given souls to all natural machines which are
capable of them. Because souls do not interfere with each other and occupy no space,
it is possible to give these machines souls in proportion to the perfection that they
have, God doing everything in the most perfect way possible, and a vacuum of forms
existing no more than a vacuum of bodies. One could say, then, that for the same rea-
son God ought to give reasonable souls or souls capable of reflection to all living
substances as well as to spirits. But I reply that laws superior to those of material
nature, namely, the laws of justice, would oppose this. Since the order of the universe
has not permitted justice to be observed in regard to all things, it had to be so arranged
that at least no injustice should be done to them. This is why they were made inca-
pable of reflection or consciousness and therefore not susceptible of happiness and
unhappiness.
Finally, to summarize my thoughts in a few words, I hold that every substance
contains, in its present state, all its past and future states and even expresses the whole
universe according to its point of view, nothing being so remote from anything else
that there is no intercourse between them. This is particularly so in its relation to the
parts of its own body, which it expresses more immediately. Consequently, nothing
happens to it except from its own depths and by virtue of its own laws, provided we
join to it the concourse of God. But every substance perceives other things because it
expresse~ them naturally, having been created in the first place in such a way that it can
do this thereafter and can adapt itself as it should. It is in this obligation imposed from
the beginning that what is called the action of one substance on another consists. As
for corporeal substances, I hold that when we consider only that which is divisible,
mass is a pure phenomenon; that every substance has in metaphysical rigor a true
unity; that it is indivisible, incapable of generation and corruption; that all matter
must be filled with animated, or at least living substances; that generation and corrup-
tion are nothing but transformations from small to great or the reverse; and that there
is no particle of matter which does not contain a world of innumerable creatures,
organized as well as massed together. Above all, I hold that the works of God are
infinitely greater, more beautiful, more numerous, and better ordered than is com-
monly thought and that the mechanism 0r organization - in other words, the order -

is essential to them even to their smallest parts. Thus no hypothesis can give us a better
knowledge of the wisdom of God than can mine, according to which there are sub-
stances everywhere which show forth his perfection, being so many mirrors, all
different, of the beauty of the universe, nothing remaining empty, barren, unculti-
vated, and without perception. We cannot even doubt that the laws of motion and of
the revolutions of bodies serve the very laws of justice and of public order which are
undoubtedly observed as well as possible in the government of spirits, that is, of intelli-
gent souls which enter into society with God and with him constitute a kind of perfect
City of which he is the monarch.
Now I believe, Sir, that I have omitted none of the difficulties which you have pro-
pounded or at least indicated or any which I thought you might have in addition. This
has made my letter long, it is true, but it would have been more difficult to put the
same meaning in fewer words, and could perhaps not have been done without ob-
scurity. I believe now that you will find my beliefs consistent enough within themselves,
as well as with accepted opinions. I do not in any way repudiate established beliefs but
explain them and push them further. If you could find leisure sometime to re-examine
what we finally agreed upon as to the concept of an individual substance, you would
perhaps find that by granting me these beginnings, you are compelled to agree with
all the rest. I have tried nevertheless to write this letter in such a way that it contains
its own explanation and defense. The questions could still be separated, for those who
are unwilling to recognize souls in beasts and substantial forms elsewhere could still
give approval to my method of explaining the union of mind and body and all that I
say about true substance. But they would have to save the reality of matter and of
corporeal substances as well as they can without such forms and without anything
which has a true unity, either by means of points or of atoms, as they find best. Or
they might leave this undecided, for one can place limits on one's investigations
wherever it seems fitting. But we must not linger along so beautiful a way if we desire
true ideas of the universe and of the perfection of God's works, which still provide us
with the soundest arguments with respect to God and our soul.
It is strange how entirely the Abbe Catelan missed my meaning, and you were right
in suspecting this.30 He advances three propositions and says that I find contra-
dictions in them. But I do not; in fact, I have used these very propositions to prove the
absurdity of the Cartesian principle. This is the result of dealing with people who con-
sider matters only superficially. If this happens in a question of mathematics, what can
we expect in metaphysics and ethics? This is why I consider myself fortunate in having
found in you a critic who is as exact as he is just. I wish you many more years, for the
public interest and for my own.
REFERENCES
1 On his draft of the letter Leibniz noted, "Was sent in this form, June 1686"; in the edition of
Arnauld's works it is dated July 14.
2 Leibniz's marginal note: "A/ull concept includes all the predicates ofthe thing; for example,
of heat. A complete concept includes all the predicates of a subject; for example, of this heat.
In individual substances they coincide".
3 See Arnauld's letter of May 13, 1686 (G., II, 28).
4 Thus there is a pure possibility which involves no decisions of God's creative will and
includes the eternal truths of logic and mathematics. But these possibilities do not involve
complete concepts and are therefore not determinative of existence. The class of existing sub-
stances, regarded as possible existences, involves God's choice or determination by the prin-
cipleofthe best possible.
6 G.,II,32-33.
6 "Under the principle of generality or essence, or of a specific or incomplete concept"; that is,
a partial, abstract, and therefore not entirely determined concept. A warning may be needed
that in the discussion which follows, 'specific' means 'referring to a species'. Man's knowledge
of himself is, like his knowledge of other existence, limited to this incomplete kind, though his
experience of himself is immediate. cr. notes 7 and 9 below.
7 The real self is therefore more than the object of reflection or inner awareness; self-knowledge
involves the construction, so far as this is possible, of the law of the individual.
8 To do this was the task which Leibniz undertook in this metaphysical logic. The Generales
Inquisitiones, the most extensive discussion (though far from complete) of his logical theory,
was written in the same year as the Discourse and this letter, 1686. It undertakes the logical
synthesis of his metaphysics (Cout. OF., pp. 356---99).
9 Personal identity is therefore not given in self-experience alone but only in the law of the
individual nature. Moral responsibility, on the other hand, depends more directly on the
memory and enduring purposes which the inner sense makes possible. See the Discourse, Sec.
12.
10 See p. 271, note 7. The reference is to Thomas' doctrine that all pure intelligences are
infimae species.
11 Leibniz seems to say that it is intrinsic only to the complete idea in God's willed thought. But
this would entail that only God's idea of the entire creation is a complete concept and that the
individual concept is a completely determined concept only as it is contained in this.
12 Seenotesp.271, notes 4 and 8; note 11 above.
13 This is the point which Arnauld selects for further discussion in the later correspondence.
In moving from the problem of colliding bodies to that of the relation of the mind to its body,
the paragraph leaves it unclear whether Leibniz is assigning a soul only to living bodies or to
inorganic ones as well (cf. p. 330, note 38). This ambiguity appears in some of Leibniz's later
work. Compare the various discussions with Des Bosses (No. 62) with that in the two metaphy-
sical summaries of 1714 (Nos. 66 and 67).
14 The corpuscular philosophy (as Robert Boyle called his system) must, insofar as Leibniz
approves it, be understood, not as atomism, which he rejects except as a fiction, but as any
philosophy which explains physical events mechanistically or in terms of magnitude, figure,
and motion.
16 This is again the date in Arnauld's works; Leibniz marked his copy September, 1687. This
is the last letter in the controversy, since Arnauld did not answer it, and Leibniz left shortly
afterward for his journey of historical research. From its limited beginning in Arnauld's
attack on the thirteenth proposition of the Discourse, the content of the correspondence had
widened and its analyses had deepened. This letter is concerned primarily with two problems:
(i) the theory of concomitance, with its explanation in the theory of representation or ex-
pression, and (ii) the nature of corporeal substance. Biological interests are prominent, and
there are clear statements on the nature of the affections and of substance in general.
16 G. has belle for telle.
17 "A knot worthy for God to intervene ex machina." Loosely quoted from Horace (see
p. 119, note 4).
18 "The just order of the heavens, the trustworthy ways of things, and the laws of the gods" -
all this together the old man of Syracuse represented by his art.
19 Readingpresent for precedent (G., 11,115).
20 In the original draft the following note was put in brackets, to be omitted in the copy sent
to Arnauld: "Strictly speaking, bodies are not impelled by others when a collision takes place
but by their own motion or by their elasticity, which is also a motion of their parts. Every
corporeal mass, great or small, already has within it as much force as it is able to acquire, but
the directed impact of other bodies merely gives it direction, or better, this determination of
direction occurs only at the time of impact."
21 John Bacon is Baconthorpe, a 14th-century Scholastic with Averroistic leanings. Jean
Fernel was a French physician of the 16th century; Philoponus or Johannes Grammaticus a
Christian Aristotelian of the 6th century. Gabriel Biel was the German Occamist whose
writings influenced Luther. Note that Leibniz has a different group of documentations for the
theory of substantial forms than in his youth (Nos. 3, 7, etc.).
22 That is, the transmission of the soul from parents to offspring.
23 Correspondence (Adam and Tannery), V, 267ff.
24 See p. 271, note 12.
26 cr. the concluding sections of No. 30 and p. 271, note 6.
26 Bracketed by Leibniz for omission in the sent letter: "If we take as the matter of corporeal
substance, not its mass without forms, but a secondary matter which is the multitude of
substances whose mass is that of the whole body, it can be said that these substances are parts
of this matter, as those which enter into our body are parts of it. For as our body is the matter
and the soul is the form of our substance, it is the same in this respect with other corporeal
substances. I do not find any more difficulty here than in the case of man, where everyone
agrees with this whole point. The difficulties which arise in these matters come, among other
things, from the fact that we do not commonly have a sufficiently distinct concept of the whole
and the part. In the last analysis, the part is nothing but an immediate component ofthe whole
and is in some way homogeneous to it. Thus parts can constitute a whole, whether it has or
has not a true unity. It is true that a whole which is a true unity can remain the same individual
in a rigorous sense even when it loses or gains parts, as we experience in ourselves. Thus the
parts are its immediate requisites only pro tempore. But if by the term matter we understand
something which is always essential to the same substance, one can mean by it, in the sense
of certain Scholastics, the primitive passive power of a substance. Matter in this sense will
not be extended or divisible, though it will be the principle of divisibility or that which corres-
ponds to it in the substance. But I do not want to argue about the use of terms."
27 Arnauld's misunderstanding seems to have good grounds (see note 13, above).
28 Recherche de la verite, Part III, chap. VII.
29 Marcello Malpighi (1628-94) was, after Leeuwenhoek, the founder of microscopic anatomy,
and his studies of respiration, cell development, and other functions did much to strengthen
the conviction that all life contains common principles. Together with Jan Swammerdam
(1637-80) he established the theory of preformation which confirmed Leibniz in his conviction
that every individual develops out of the law of its own nature.
80 See Nos. 34 and 37, and p. 302, note 6.
37
LETTER OF MR. LEIBNIZ ON A GENERAL PRINCIPLE USEFUL

IN EXPLAINING THE LAWS OF NATURE THROUGH A CON-
SIDERATION OF THE DIVINE WISDOM; TO SERVE AS A
REPL Y TO THE RESPONSE OF THE
REV. FATHER MALEBRANCHE
Nouvelles de la republique des lettres, July, 1687
This paper is Leibniz's second reply in a controversy begun by the Abbe Catelan in
Bayle's journal, on the criticism 0/ Descartes's physics in the 'Brie/ Demonstration'
(No. 34). In it Leibniz extends his criticism to Malebranche's laws o/motion in Book
VI 0/ the Recherche de la verite, charging that he as well as Descartes has violated the
principle 0/ continuity. The paper contains a clear statement 0/ this principle and its
importance in physical analysis. There exists also a Latin version (GM., VI, 129-35).
[G., III, 51-55]
I have seen in the Nouvelles de la republique des fettres the reply of the Rev. Father
Malebranche to the comment which I made on certain laws of nature which he had
set up in the Recherche de la verite. 1 He seems somewhat inclined to abandon these
laws himself, and this frankness is most commendable. But he offers reasons and
restrictions which would lead us back into the obscurity from which I have tried to
free this subject and which violate a principle 0/ general order which I have observed.
I hope, therefore, that he will have the kindness to permit me to use this opportunity
to explain this principle, which is of great value in reasoning and which I find is not
used enough or sufficiently understood in its entire scope.
This principle has its origin in the infinite and is absolutely necessary in geometry,
but it is effective in physics as· well, because the sovereign wisdom, the source of all
things, acts as a perfect geometrician, observing a harmony to which nothing can be
added. This is why the principle serves me as a test or criterion by which to reveal the
error of an ill-conceived opinion at once and from the outside, even before a pene-
trating internal examination is begun. It can be formulated as follows. When the differ-
ence between two instances in a given series or that which is presupposed can be diminished
until it becomes smaller than any given quantity whatever, the corresponding difference in
what is sought or in their results must o/necessity also be diminished or become less than
any given quantity whatever. Or to put it more commonly, when two instances or data
approach each other continuously, so that one at last passes over into the other, it is nec-
essary for their consequences or results (or the unknown) to do so also. This depends on
a more general principle: that, as the data are ordered, so the unknowns are ordered also.
[Datis ordinatis etiam quaesita sunt ordinata.F But examples are needed in order to

understand this. We know that a given ellipse approaches a parabola as much as is

wished, so that the difference between ellipse and parabola becomes less than any given
difference, when the second focus of the ellipse is withdrawn far enough from the
first focus, for then the radii from that distant focus differ from parallel lines by an
amount as small as can be desired. And, as a result, all the geometric theorems which
are proved for the ellipse in general can be applied to the parabola by considering it as
an ellipse one of whose foci is infinitely far removed from the other, or (to avoid the
term 'infinite') as a figure which differs from some ellipse by less than any given
difference.
The same principle is found in physics. For example, rest can be considered as an
infinitely small velocity or as an infinite slowness. Therefore whatever is true of velo-
city or slowness in in general should be verifiable also of rest taken in this sense, so
that the rule for resting bodies must be considered as a special case of the rule for
motion. If this does not work, on the other hand, this will be a certain sign that the
laws are wrongly formulated. Likewise equality can be considered as an infinitely
small inequality, and inequality can be made to approach equality as closely as we
wish.
It is through his neglect of this consideration, among other things, that Descartes,
able man that he was, failed in more ways than one in his proposed laws of nature.
I shall not repeat here what I have said before about the other source of his errors, in
taking the quantity of motion for the force. But his first and second rules, for example,
do not agree with each other. 3 The second says that if two bodies Band C collide in a
straight line and with equal velocities, but B is but the least amount greater than C, C
will be reflected with its former velocity, but B will continue its motion. But according
to his first rule, if Band C are equal and collide in a straight line, both will be reflected
and return at a velocity equal to that of their approach. This difference in the outcome
in these two cases is unreasonable, however, for the inequality of the two bodies can be
made as small as you wish, and the difference between the assumptions in the two
cases, that is, the difference between such inequality and a perfect equality, becomes
less than any given difference; therefore, according to our principle, the difference
between the effects or consequences ought also to become less than any given differ-
ence. Yet, if the second rule were true as well as the first, the result would be the con-
trary, for according to this second rule, any increase, however small, of the body B,
formerly equal to C, will make the greatest difference in the effects, in that it will
change an absolute regression into an absolute continuation of motion. And this is an
enormous leap from one extreme to another, whereas the body B should be reflected
only a little less in this case, and the body C a little more, than in the case of their
equality, from which this one can hardly be distinguished.
There are many other inconsistencies like this which result from the Cartesian rules
and which an attentive observer using our principle will easily detect. That which I
have found in the rules of the Recherche de fa verite comes from the same source.
The Rev. Father Malebranche admits in a way that there is some difficulty in them,
but he continues to believe that since the laws of motion depend on the good pleasure
of God, God could therefore have established laws as irregular as these. But the good
pleasure of God is ruled by his wisdom, and geometricians would be nearly as sur-
prised to see irregularities of this kind occur in nature as to see a parabola to which
the properties of an ellipse with an infinitely remote focus could not be applied. Nor do
I believe that any example of such inconsistency can be met with in nature; the more
one knows her, the more geometric one finds her. It is easy also to see from this that
these irregularities do not properly arise from the cause to which Malebranche ascribes
them, namely, the false hypothesis of the perfect hardness of bodies; I agree that this
is not found in nature. For if we were to assume this hardness, conceiving of it as an
infinitely prompt elasticity, nothing would follow here from this assumption which
could not be adjusted perfectly to the true laws of nature that apply to elastic bodies in
general, and we should never arrive at rules as invalid as those with which I have been
finding fault.
It is true that in composite things a small change can sometimes bring about a great
effect. So a small spark, for example, which falls into a large mass of gunpowder can
demolish an entire city. But this is not contrary to our principle, for it can be
explained by these same general principles. Nothing like this can happen in
primary or simple things, however, for otherwise nature would not be the effect
of infinite wisdom. By this we see, a little better than by what is commonly said
about it, how the true physics should in fact be derived from the source of the divine
perfections. It i~ God who is the ultimate reason of things, and the knowledge of God
is no less the beginning of science than his essence and his will are the beginning of
beings The most reasonable philosophers agree with this, but few of them can use it to
discover any truths of importance. Perhaps these little samples will arouse some of
them to go much further. It sanctifies philosophy to make its streams arise from the
fount of God's attributes. Far from excluding final causes and the consideration of a
being who acts with wisdom, it is from these that everything must be derived in
physics. It is this that Socrates has already said most admirably in Plato's Phaedo, in
arguing against Anaxagoras and other philosphers who are too materialistic and who,
having first recognized an intelligent principle beneath matter, make no use whatever of
it when they come to philosophize about the universe and instead of showing that
this intelligence does everything for the best and is the reason for the world which it has
found good to produce in conformity with its ends, try to explain everything solely by
the concourse of crude particles, thus confusing conditions and instruments with the
true cause. This, says Socrates, is like trying to explain the fact that I am sitting in
prison awaiting the fatal cup and am not rather on my flight to the Boeotians or some
other people, where we know I could have saved myself, by saying that I have bones,
tendons, and muscles that could be flexed in such a way as necessary in order to sit
down. Truly, he says, these bones and these muscles would not be here, nor would you
see me in this posture, if my mind had not judged that it is more worthy for Socrates to
submit to what the laws of his country command.
This passage of Plato deserves to be read as a whole, for it contains some very
beautiful and very profound thoughts. However, I agree that the particular effects of
nature can and ought to be explained mechanically, though without forgetting their
admirable ends and uses, which providence has known how to contrive. But the general
principles of physics and mechanics themselves depend upon the action of a sovereign
intelligence and cannot be explained without taking it into consideration. It is in this
way that we must reconcile piety and reason and that we can satisfy those good people
who fear the results of the mechanistic or corpuscular philosophy\ as if it could ali-
enate us from God and from immaterial substances, whereas in truth, with the nec-
essary corrections and rightly understood, it ought rather to lead us to them.

REFERENCES
1 For Leibniz's criticism of Malebranche's laws see G., III, 46-49.

s In brief, the law of continuity holds that if y=/(x), and there are two values Xl and X2
such tha,t xs-xl<d, where d is any assignable difference, however small, then the corre-
sponding values ya - Yl < any assignable difference as well.
3 Principia philosophiae, Part II, Arts. 46-47. Leibniz's more detailed use of the principle in
analyzing the errors in Descartes's laws is found in No. 42, II, on Arts. 45-53.
4 See above, p. 349, note 14.
INTRODUCTION TO PARTS III AND IV
To judge from his own willingness to publish his opinions, and the works which he
later mentIOns with approval, the mature period of Leibniz's thought begins with the
Meditations on Knowledge, Truth, and Ideas (No. 32). It is only after his return from
Italy in 1690, however, that such fundamental concepts as those of individuality, force,
the intercourse between monads, and the gradations of substance are analyzed in
detail. The year 1690 may therefore be regarded as the line of demarcation between
Leibniz's early period of eclecticism and discovery and his mature system. Yet his
thought cannot be regarded as either complete or stable, even in this last period of
about twenty-five years. Indeed, as old age sets in, his complaints increase for the lack
of time and peace of mind to complete and to perfect; and he never abandons his
cautious eagerness to test his new ideas by submitting them, first of all, to his friends
and critics.
The first decade of this period, roughly coextensive with the 1690's, itself involves a
fundamental shift in his philosophical interests. Newton's Principia, reaching him in
Italy, arouses his zeal to complete his own dynamics, with the result that his thinking
is permanently shifted from an emphasis upon the universal harmony to a concern for
the individual. The logical foundations are neglected for an explicit dynamism, the
theory of causality developed earlier is applied in more detail to the mind-body
problem, a priorism recedes into the background and an a posteriori argument for
God is perfected, and the claim to demonstrate gives way to the recognition that his
philosophy is hypothetical. The climax of this change is 1695, when the Specimen
dynamicum and the New System are published; and the controversies which these
works arouse continue until Leibniz's death and, indeed, far beyond, metaphysical
issues crystallizing first, and scientific ones taking form more slowly but becoming
the more bitter as they grow.
The death of the Elector Ernest August on January 23, 1698, weakened Leibniz's
position at the court at Hanover at the very time when his European reputation and
influence were highest and his scientific and diplomatic successes had been felt in all
the great centers - London, Berlin, Vienna, Paris, and St. Petersburg. The history of
the House of Brunswick, in which his third Hanoverian master, George Louis (after
1714, George I of England), set such stock, began increasingly to confine his intellectu-
al activities. Yet the intensity of his other studies did not diminish; his journeys grew
more frequent; projects for inventions, societies, alliances, settlements, and unifica-
tions continued to be formulated, some of them to be carried out; and intrigues en-
snared him to the extent that prolonged philosophical work became less possible than
ever.
Leibniz's achievements in this field are remarkable, however, even in this period.
The great efforts at synthesis, however incomplete, are behind him. Most of his
philosophical writing belongs in the areas, first of popularization, and then of contro-
versy. The queen of Prussia, his illustrious and capable pupil and friend, called forth
some of his better expositions, and the Theodicy, published in 1710, 5 years after her
death, was a monument to her intellectual and religious interests. Even the contro-
versy in which he was engaged at his death with Clarke and Newton was continued
with another royal reader in mind, Caroline of Anspach, the princess of Wales, who
mediated the letters. Meanwhile he sought to establish his ideas, and perhaps himself,
in England through correspondence with Lady Masham, Gilbert and Thomas Burnet,
and Pierre Coste (the translator of Locke, Shaftesbury, and other English authors),
while such works as the Principles of Nature and of Grace, apparently written for
Eugene of Savoy in Vienna but sent to a Parisian group as well, and the Monadology
were designed to persuade or enlighten a popular following on the Continent. Leibniz
was still in earnest about the intellectual unity of Europe and about the noble support
upon which he believed this unity depended.
Popularization did not exclude controversy, however, or more critical efforts to
perfect his system, particularly the concept of individual substance. Indeed, Leibniz
seemed no longer able to do protracted philosophical writing except when continuity
was provided by the works he was refuting; the two great monuments of the period
were running commentaries and refutations of others: Locke in the New Essays and
Bayle in the Theodicy. The two series of letters, one to the Scholastic Cartesian De
Voider, the other to the Scholastic Jesuit Des Bosses, span the last period of Leibniz's
thought and together constitute a prolonged effort to attain clarity on the nature of
individual substance and to formulate it convincingly for others. Leibniz's style
achieves its height only in this period. The ponderous erudition of his earlier writings
is left behind, at least sometimes, and a more perfect harmony or 'consent' appears
between meaning and expression. The Monadology is by no means an adequate state-
ment of his philosophy, but it is nonetheless the layman's best outline of his meta-
physics.
PART III
HANOVER TO THE DEATH OF ERNEST AUGUST

1690-98
38
LETTER TO ARNAULD
Venice, March 23,1690
At the end of his long jQurney to Austria and Italy in, quest of materials for the history of
the House of Brunswick, Leibniz once more tried to resume his philosophical correspon-
dence with Antoine Arnauld. Though the Italian stay had been filled with historical and
practical interests, more theoretical work had not entirely lagged. The most important
fruit of the period was the preparation of a work on physics, the Dynamica de potentia
et legibus naturae corporeae, which he left with his friend Baron Bodenhausen in Flo-
rence. In March, 1690, he prepared a summary of his philosophical opinions for the
Cartesian Platonist, Michelangelo Fardella, editor of St. Augustine's works. To Arnauld
he sent essentially the same summary in this letter. Arnauld did not answer, and the cor-
respondence ended.
[G., II, 134--38]
I am now about to return home after a long journey undertaken by order of my prince
for the pllrpose of historical investigations. In its course I have found patents, titles,
and indubitable proofs adequate to confirm tIie common origin of the noble houses
of Brunswick and Este, upon which Justel, Du Cange, and others were right in casting
doubts, because there were contradictions and errors on the matter in the historians of
Este, together with a complete confusi<;m of times and persons. At present I plan to
return and once more take up myoId routine. Having written to you two years ago,
shortly before my departure 1, I am taking that same liberty in order to inquire after
your health and to let you know that the thought of your outstanding merit is always in
my mind. While in Rome I saw a new letter denounced which was attributed to you or
to your friends. And I have since seen the letter of the Reverend Father Mabillon to
one of my friends, in which he says that the Reverend Father Le Tellier's defense of
the missionaries against the practical morality of the Jesuits has given several people a
favorable impression( of this order but that he had heard that you have replied to it
and that it is said thM YOll have annihilated the reasons of this father geometrically.
All this has convinced me that YOll are still in a position to render the public a service 2,
and I pray God that this may be so for a long time. It is true that I have an interest in
this, but it is a laudable one, for it will provide me with a means of instruction, whether
in common with all the others who will read your works, or when your criticisms
instruct me in particular - if the limited leisure which you have permits me still to hope
for this privilege occasionally.
Since this journey has enabled me in part to dismiss from my mind ordinary occupa-
tions, I have had the satisfaction of conversing with many able men of science and
learning, and I have communicated my particular ideas, with which you are acquainted,
to some of them in order to profit by their doubts and difficulties. There were some
among them who, dissatisfied with the usual doctrines, found an unusual satisfaction in

certain opinions of mine. This has led me to put them in writing so that they can be
communicated more easily, and some day, perhaps, I shall have some copies printed
without my name, solely in order to send them to my friends for the purpose of re-
ceiving their criticism. I wish that you could examine them first, and it is for this that
I have made the following summary of them.
A body is an aggregate of substances; it is not, properly speaking, one substance.
Consequently, there must be found throughout the body indivisible substances in-
capable of generation and corruption, corresponding somewhat to souls. All these
substances have always been, and will always be, united to organic bodies capable of
diverse transformations. Each of these substances contains in its nature a law of the
continuation of the series of its own operations 3 and everything that has happened and
will happen to it. Except for its dependence upon God, all its actions come from its
own depths. Each substance expresses the universe as a whole, but one does it more
distinctly than another, each one pre-eminently with regard to certain things and
according to its point of view. The union of the soul with the body, and even the
operation of one substance on another, consists only in this perfect mutual accord,
explicitly established by the order of the original creation, in virtue of which each
substance, following its own laws, agrees with the demands of the others, and the
operations of the one thus follow or accompany the activity or change of the others.
Intelligences or souls capable of reflection and of knowing the eternal truths and God
have many privileges which exempt them from the upheavals of bodies. For them moral
laws must be joined with the physical. All things have been made principally for them.
Together they form the commonwealth of the universe, whose monarch is God.
There is a perfect justice and order observed in this city of God, and there is no evil
action without punishment or good action without a proportional reward. The more
thoroughly one understands things, the more beautiful one finds them, and the more
conformable with the wishes which a wise man could make. One must always be
content with the order of the past, since it is in absolute conformity with the will of
God, which we known from its outcome. But we must try to make the future, as much
as depend~ on us, conform to the presumptive will of God or to his commandments -
to adorn our Sparta, and to labor in welldoing, yet without being cast down when
success escapes us, in the firm faith that God will know how to find the most proper
time for changes for the good. Those who are not content with the order of things
cannot claim to love God as they ought. Justice is nothing but the charity of the wise
man. Charity is a benevolence that is universal, which the wise man carries into exe-
cution in conformity with the measures of reason, to the end of obtaining the greatest
good. And wisdom is the science of happiness of or the means of arriving at a lasting
contentment, which consists of a continuous progression toward a greater perfection
or at least in the variation of a same degree of perfection.
As concerns physics, we must understand the nature of force; that it is entirely
different from motion, which is something more relative. This force must be measured
by the quantity of the effect. There is an absolute force, a force of direction, and a
relative force. 4 Each of these forces is conserved in the same quantity, in the universe
or in each machine which has no communication with others, and the two last forces
taken together compose the first, or absolute force. But the same quantity of motion is
not conserved, for I show that otherwise perpetual motion would be discovered, and
the effect would be more powerful than its cause.
HANOVER TO THE DEATH OF ERNEST AUGUST, 1690-98 361
Some time ago I published in the Leipzig Acts an essay in physics in which I seek the
physical causes of the motions of stars. As a basis I propose that all motion of a
solid in the fluid, which takes place in a curved path or whose velocity is varied conti-
nuously, comes from the motion of the fluid itself. From this I conclude that the
stars have orbits that are deferent but fluid. 5 I have demonstrated an important general
theorem: that every body which moves in harmonic revolution (that is, in such a way
that as the distances from the center vary in arithmetic progression, the velocities are
in harmonic progression or reciprocal to the distances) and which, moreover, has a
paracentric motion, that is, one determined by gravity or levity with reference to the
same center (whatever the law of this attraction or repulsion may be), moves with
areas necessarily proportional to the times, in the way which Kepler observed in
planets. Then, taking into consideration,/rom observations, that the motion is elliptical,
I find that the law of paracentric motion combined with the harmonic revolution
described in ellipses must be such that gravitation is reciprocally proportional to the
squares of the distances, like the radiations/rom the sun. 6
I shall say nothing to you about my calculus of increments or differences, by which I
find tangents without removing irrational numbers and fractions, even when the
unknown is involved in them, and by which I subject quadratures and transcendental
problems to analysis. Nor shall I speak of an entirely new analysis, belonging to
geometry and entirely different from algebra 7, and still less of some other matters on
which I have not yet had time to present essays. I should have hoped to be able to
explain these all to you in a few words in order to have your opinion, which would be of
incalculable value to me, if you had as much leisure as I have deference for your
judgment. But your time is precious, and my letter is already long enough. Therefore
I end it here and am with zeal, etc.
REFERENCES
1 After the last philosophical letter of 1687 (No. 36,10, Leibniz had sent a more personal one
from Niirnberg in 1688 (G., II, 132-34). He had also drafted one on religious questions
which was not sent (G., 11,129-30).
2 Michel Ie Tellier (1643-1719) was a Jesuit and confessor of Louis XlV. His Defense des
nouveau chretiens et des missionaires de fa Chine, du Japon, et des Indes (1687) had been
attacked by Arnauld and referred to Rome for a judgment. In view of the close relations between
Leibniz and the Jesuits in Rome at this time, his remark is discreetly ambiguous and diplomatic.
3 Two advances from the earlier correspondence are here noteworthy; Leibniz has partly
cleared up the ambiguity about the nature of corporeal beings, and he has interpreted the
'individual concept' as a law governing a continuous series.
4 Leibniz's discussion here is restricted to physical force, or as he later calls it, derivative force.
His analysis of the three aspects of force and the formulas for their conservation is developed
in the account of living force in the Specimen dynamicum, Part I (No. 46). See below, p. 451,
note 9.
5 A deferent circle, in the Ptolemaic system, was the path of a body, or of the center of an
epicycle, about the earth. At this point the text follows the letter as sent to Arnauld. Mont-
gomery gives the version of the first draft, which involved more details on the cosmological
position (cf. G., 11,137,138 n.).
6 Thus Leibniz seeks an a priori verification of Newton's law of inverse squares and an inter-
pretation reconciling it with the vortices of Descartes and Huygens. For more details see
No. 43. Leibniz had received a copy of Newton's Principia mathematica philosophiae natura/is
(1687) while on his journey and had sent a review of it to the Acta eruditorum which appeared
in June, 1688. The effort to secure credit for some of his own conclusions which he now found
in Newton must have moved him to work so intensively in this period at physical studies
which he had begun long before at Mainz. Leibniz's reasoning, though it strives for a broader
application of the law of inverse squares than to gravity alone, is less general than Newton's
(Principia, Book I, Propositions I, 2, 14), since it presupposes harmonic motion.
7 SeeNo.27.
39
ON THE METHOD OF DISTINGUISHING REAL

FROM IMAGINARY PHENOMENA
Date Unknown
Though the date of this study on the criterion for testing truths of facts is unknown, it
presupposes the viewpoint of the Meditations on Knowledge, Truth, and Ideas and the
Discourse on Metaphysics (Nos. 33 and 35) but supplements the former by discussing
the tests for the validity of phenomena. At the end, however, it moves toward clearer
notions of body and of force, such as were developed in the 1690's. As a statement of
Leibniz's phenomenalism it may be compared with the letter to Foucher in 1675 and
the Paris notes relating to it (Nos. 11 and 13) and to the Dialogue of 1677 (No. 17).
But the argument for a real, harmonious order and particularly the argument for the
existence of other minds, are much more fully developed.
[G., VII, 319-22]
A being is that whose concept involves something positive or that which can be con-
ceived by us provided what we conceive is possible and involves no contradiction.
We know this, first, if the concept is explained perfectly and involves nothing confused,
but then in a shorter way, if the thing actually exists, since what exists must certainly
be a being or be possible.
Just as being is revealed through a distinct concept, however, so existence is revealed
through a distinct perception. To understand this better, we must see by what means
exixtence may be proved. In the first place, I judge without proof, from a simple
perception or experience, that those things exist of which I am conscious within me.
These are, first, myself who am thinking ora variety of things and then, the varied
phenomena or appearances which exist in my mind. Since both of these namely are
perceived immediately by the mind without the intervention of anything else, they
can be accepted without question, and it is exactly as certain that there exists in my
mind the appearance of a golden mountain or of a centaur when I dream of these, as it
is that I who am dreaming exist, for both are included in the one fact that it is certain
that a centaur appears to me.
Let us now see by what criteria we may know which phenomena are real. We may
judge this both from the phenomenon itself and from the phenomena which are
antecedent and consequent to it as well. We conclude it from the phenomenon itself if
it is vivid, complex, and internally coherent [congruum]. It will be vivid if its qualities,
such as light, color, and warmth, appear intense enough. It will be complex if these
qualities are varied and support us in undertaking many experiments and new obser-
vations; for example, if we experience in a phenomenon not merely colors but also
sounds, odors, and qualities of taste and touch, and this both in the phenomenon as a
whole and in its various parts which we can further treat according to causes. Such a

long chain of observations is usually begun by design and selectively and usually oc-
curs neither in dreams nor in those imaginings which memory or fantasy present, in
which the image is mostly vague and disappears while we are examining it. A pheno-
menon will be coherent when it consists of many phenomena, for which a reason can be
given either within themselves or by some sufficiently simple hypothesis common to
them; next, it is coherent if it conforms to the customary nature of other phenomena
which have repeatedly occurred to us, so that its parts have the same position, order,
and outcome in relation to the phenomenon which similar phenomena have had.
Otherwise phenomena will be suspect, for if we were to see men moving through the
air astride the hippogryphs of Ariostus, it would, I believe, make us uncertain whether
we were dreaming or awake.
But this criterion can be referred back to another general class of tests drawn from
preceding phenomena. The present phenomenon must be coherent with these if,
namely, it preserves the same consistency or if a reason can be supplied for it from
preceding phenomena or if all together are coherent with the same hypothesis, as if
with a common cause. But certainly a most valid criterion is a consensus with the
whole sequence of life, especially if many others affirm the same thing to be coherent
with their phenomena also, for it is not only probable but certain, as I will show
directly, that other substances exist which are similar to us. Yet the most powerful
criterion of the reality of phenomena, sufficient even by itself, is success in predicting
future phenomena from past and present ones, whether that prediction is based upon
a reason, upon a hypothesis that was previously successful, or upon the customary
consistency of things as observed previously.1 Indeed, even if this whole life were said
to be only a dream, and the visible world only a phantasm, I should call this dream or
this phantasm real enough if we were never deceived by it when we make good use
of reason. But just as we know from these marks which phenomena should be seen as
real, so we also conclude, on the contrary, that any phenomena which conflict with
those that we judge to be real, and likewise those whose fallacy we can understand
from their causes, are merely apparent.
We must admit it to be true that the criteria for real phenomena thus far offered,
even when taken together, are not demonstrative, even though they have the greatest
probability; or to speak popularly, that they provide a moral certainty but do not
establish a metaphysical certainty, so that to affirm the contrary would involve a
contradiction. Thus by no argument can it be demonstrated absolutely that bodies
exist, nor is there anything to prevent certain well-ordered dreams from being the
objects of our mind, which we judge to be true and which, because of their accord with
each other, are equivalent to truth so far as practice is concerned. Nor is the argument
which is popularly offered, that this makes God a deceiver, of great importance. At
least no one will fail to see how far it is from a demonstration having metaphysical
certainty, for we are deceived not by God but by our judgment, asserting something
without accurate proof. And though a great probability may be involved, nevertheless
God, in offering us this probability, is not therefore a deceiver. For what if our nature
happened to be incapable of real phenomena? Then indeed God ought not so much to
be blamed as to be thanked, for since these phenomena could not be real, God would,
by causing them at least to be in agreement, be providing us with something equally
as valuable in all the practice of life as would be real phenomena. What if this whole
short life, indeed, were only some long dream and we should awake at death, as the
Platonists seem to think? Since we are destined for eternity, and this whole life, even
if it were to contain many thousands of years, would be like a point with respect
to eternity, how trifling a thing is this small dream, to be interposed upon such fulness
of truth, to which its relation is less than that of a dream to a lifetime. Yet no reason-
able person calls God a deceiver if some short dream which is completely distinct and
coherent is experienced in the mind.
So far I have spoken of appearances; now we must examine those things which do
not appear but which nevertheless can be inferred from appearances. It is indeed cer-
tain that every phenomenon has some cause. But if anyone says that the cause of
phenomena is in the nature of our mind which contains the phenomena, he will
affirm nothing false, but nevertheless he will not be telling the whole truth. For in the
first place, there must necessarily be a reason why we ourselves exist rather than not.
And even if we are assumed to have existed from eternity, we should still have to find
a reason for eternal existence, and this reason must be sought either within the essence
of our mind or outside of it. And certainly there is nothing to prevent innumerable other
minds from existing as well as ours, although not all possible minds exist. This I
demonstrate from the fact that all existing things are interrelated (inter se habent com-
mercium). However, minds of another nature than ours can be conceived which also
are 2 interrelated with ours here. That all existing things have this intercourse with each
other can be proved, moreover, both from the fact that otherwise no one could say
whether anything is taking place in existence now or not, so that there would be no
truth or falsehood for such a proposition, which is absurd; but also because there are
no 3 extrinsic denominations, and no one becomes a widower in India by the death
of his wife in Europe unless a real change occurs in him. For every predicate is in
fact contained in the nature of a subject. Now, if some possible minds exist, the ques-
tion is: Why not all? Furthermore, since all existents must be interrelated, there must
be a cause of their interrelations; indeed, everything must necessarily express the same
nature but in a different way. But the cause which leads all minds to have intercourse
with each other or to express the same nature, and therefore to exist, is that cause
which perfectly expresses the universe, namely God. This cause does not have a cause
and is unique. Hence it is at once clear that there exist many minds besides ours,
and, since it is easy to think that men who converse with us can have exactly the
same reason to doubt our existence as we have to doubt theirs; and since no reason
operates more strongly for us than for them, they will also exist and have minds. Thus
both sacred and profane history, and indeed whatever pertains to the status of minds
or rational substances, may be considered confirmed.
Concerning bodies I can demonstrate that not merely light, heat, color, and similar
qualities are apparent but also motion, figure, and extension. And that if anything is
real, it is solely the force of acting and suffering, and hence that the substance of a body
consists in this (as if in matter and form). Those bodies, however, which have no
substantial form, are merely phenomena or at least only aggregates of the true ones.
Substances have metaphysical matter or passive power insofar as they express
something confusedly; active, insofar as they express it distinctly. 4

REFERENCES
1 Correspondence with fact, conformity with past experience, agreement with the experiences
of others, and fruitfulness in prediction through hypotheses at~thus the criteria for empirical
truth for Leibniz. One of the marks of a genuine idea was for him its operation, and mere
combinations of symbols or qualities which lack this practical applicability do not express
an idea.
2 BC., n, 127, here inserts a non which is not in G. and which alters the sense unjustifiably.
3 G., vn, 321, omits the negative, reading: "there are many extrinsic denominations." We
read nullae for multae.
4 Note that here metaphysical matter, or materia prima, is an aspect of the monad or individual
substance rather than of the composite bodies, as in the physical treatises which follow. The
relation betw~n primary matter in the monad (its static, qualitative aspect) and primary matter
in bodies (extension and inertia) is one of the controversial issues which played a part in the
correspondence with Des Bosses (No. 62). See p. 451, note 5.
40
ON THE TRUE THEOLOGIA MYST{CA

Ca. 1690 (?)
This religious interpretation of Leibniz's thought is written in German and reveals his
skill in finding a popular terminology for his metaphysical concepts (so, for example,
Selbstbestandfor 'substance', Unwesenfor 'matter', etc.), a practice he had urged in the
Preface to Nizolius many years earlier and for which he had pointed out the advantages
of German. Though Guhrauer, who printed it in his collection of Leibniz's German
writings, may have claimed too much by calling it a confession, no work serves better to
reveal the Platonic pattern of Leibniz's religious thinking, and nowhere is the intellec-
tualistic quality of what has been called his mysticism more apparent. Guhrauer dates it
in the last 10 or 15 years of the 17th century.
[Guh. DS., I, 410-13]
Every perfection flows immediately from God, as essence, power, existence, spirit,
knowledge, wilP
Only the inner light which God himself kiJ;ldles in us has the power to give us a
right knowledge of God.
The divine penections are concealed in all things, but very few know how to
discover them there. Z
Hence there are many who are learned without being illumined, because they be-
lieve not God or the light but only their earthly teachers or their external senses and so
remain in the contemplation of imperfections. This light does not come from without,
although external teaching can, and sometimes must, give us an opportunity to get a
glimpse ofit.
Among these external teachers there are two which best awaken the inner light 3 :
the Holy Scriptures and the experience of nature. But neither of these helps us if the
inner light does not work with them. (The knowledge of God is the beginning of wis-
dom, and the divine attributes are the primary truths for the right order of knowledge.)
The essential light is the eternal Word of God, in which is all wisdom, all light, in-
deed the original of all beings and the origin of all truth. Without the radiation of this
light no one achieves true faith, and without true faith no one attains blessedness.
God is the easiest and the hardest being to know; the first and easiest in the way of
light; the hardest and last in the way of shadows.
Most knowledge and invention [Tichten] belongs to the shadow way, such as
history, languages, the customs of man and of nature. There is also some light in these
shadows, but few can separate the light from the darkness.
This light fills the mind [Gemuth] with clarity and assurance but not with images and
vain motions. There are some who imagine a world of light in their brains and think
that they behold the brilliance and splendor and are surrounded by many thousands of
little lights. But this is not the light but only a heating of their blood. 4

When anyone sees the true light, he is convinced that it is of God and not of the
flesh or devil. Just as the sun bears witness of itself, so also does this light.
All creatures derive from God and from nothingness [Nichts]. Their self·being
[Selbstwesen] is of God, their nonbeing [Unwesen] is of nothing. (Numbers too show
this in a wonderful way, and the essences of things are like numbers. 5
No creature can be without nonbeing; otherwise it would be God. Angels and saints
must have it.
The only self·knowledge is to distinguish well between our self·being and our non·
being (and so to prevent our straying from the way of light. But one must make use
of sensual things [Ergetzlichkeiten] and must view the shadow pictures only as an aid
or a tool and not rest in them).
Within our self·being there lies an infinity, a footprint or reflection of the omnisci·
ence and omnipresence of God.
Every single self·state [Selbststand], such as I or you, is a unified, indivisible, in·
destructible thing and does not consist of three parts: soul, spirit, and body. Yet there
is a diversity of things which belong directly to the one being and are, as it were,
embodied in it.
Although every single self·state is without parts, yet other things are impressed in it
without thereby taking up any space in it. In each and every being there is everything-
but with a certain degree of clearness.
Bodies are the mere work of God; spirits are essentially the kingdom of God.
God belongs to me more intimately than my body. (Bodies in themselves are no
self·states but shadows which flow away.) Corporeal things are but shadows which
flow away, glimpses, shapes, truly dreams. Essential truth is in the spirit alone. But
inexperienced men take the spiritual for a dream and what is tangible for the truth.
Sin is not from God, but original sin has arisen in some creatures from their non·
being and hence out of nothingness.
God has permitted sin because he knows how to bring a greater good out of evil.
Only the evil themselves have suffered any loss through sin; the whole creation of God
has not lost but gained through it. (God does not have an unconditioned will to power
[Machtwille] but wills everything with a cause and for the best. Election by his grace
[Gnadenwahl] has its origin in his foreknowledge of the worth of men and therefore not
in his foreknowledge of their faith or their works but from much higher causes. For if
a man believes, or says, or thinks, or does anything good, this is a result of God's
foreseen election of him in Christ.) For one unimportant thing added to another can
often produce something better than can two things added together which are in
themselves more precious than either of the others. It is here that the secret of the
election of grace lies hidden and that its knot is to be untied. Duo irregularia possunt
aliquando facere aliquid regulare. 6 God wills the salvation of all creatures and their
best.
The denial of self is the hatred of the non being which is in us and the love of the
origin of our self· being, or God.
'Crucifying the old Adam', drawing near to Christ, dying to Adam and living in
Christ - all these consist in this: that we deny non being and cling to self-being.
Whoever understands how to prefer the inner light to its images, or self-being to
non being, loves God above all things.
He who merely fears God loves himself and his non being more than God.
Faith without knowledge comes not of the spirit of God but of the dead letter or the
empty echo.
Faith without light awakens no love but only fear or hope and is not living.
He who does not act according to his faith has no faith, even though he may boast
of it. It is deplorable that so few people know what light and faith, love and life, Christ
and blessedness, are.
Christ's teaching is spirit and truth, but many make of it flesh and shadow.
Most men have no earnestness. They have never tasted truth and are bogged down
in a secret unbelief.
Let each examine himself whether he has faith and life. If he finds any other joy and
pleasure greater than that in the love of God and the glorification of his will, he does
not sufficiently know Christ and does not yet feel the prompting of the Holy Spirit.
Scripture gives us a beautiful test to determine whether a man loves God, namely,
if he loves his brother and strives to serve others as far as he can. Whoever does not do
this boasts falsely of his illumination or of Christ and the Holy Spirit.
REFERENCES
1 The analogy of Leibniz's mystico-theological terminology with his logical and metaphysical
terms may be suggested in the following equivalents.
perfections simple primary concepts which make possible all
definition and determination
degree of perfection 'quantity of essence' or oflogical determination
imperfections (plural) finiteness and plurality, confused and inadequate
representation of many in one
attributes of God primary concepts and truths
essential light the region of ideas or possibilities
radiation operation of ideas through the law of the best
possible
finding God's perfections using the method of analysis and synthesis
inner light discovery of the law of one's individuality through
the internal sense or reflection
shadows external senses, confused and indistinct knowledge
nonbeing passivity, materiaprima
self-being activity according to the law of the individual
Thus self-denial involves clear and distinct representation of universal harmony, whether in
science or in ethical and social relations.
2 Leibniz, while in Rome, developed the plan of transforming the monasteries into research
institutions or, perhaps, of forming a religious order for developing the universal encyclopedia
(Guh. L., 11,92-93; Couto OF., pp. 3, 5-6).
3 Leibniz's notes on William Penn's journal contain the following comment: "The true sign
of the spirit and the grace of God is to enlighten and make better; everything else is freakishness
and fancy" (Baruzi, Leibniz, p. 335; Bod. HS., I, v, 3).
4 Leibniz was aware of the psychological causes of some so-called 'mystical phenomena'. His
letter to the Electress Sophia in 1691, about the dreams and visions of Fraulein Rosamunde
von Asseburg, which were then being widely discussed, is an example. "I marvel at the nature
of the human spirit, all of whose powers and capacities we do not know. When we meet such
persons, we must, far from condemning and trying to change them, try rather to conserve them
in this beautiful frame of mind, just as one preserves a curiosity or a cabinet-piece." After
repeating the criteria by which true perceptions are to be distinguished (No. 39), and pointing
out that visions are related to the natural constitutions of those who have them, he adds the
following: "I sometimes think: that Ezekiel must have studied architecture or been a court
engineer, for he had magnificent visions of beautiful buildings. But a prophet from the country,
like Hosea or Amos, sees only landscapes and rural pictures, while Daniel, who was a states-
man, rules the kingdoms of the world" (Guh. L., II, 40-40.
6 An allusion to the binary number system, 'the image of creation', in which all numbers are
derived from unity and zero.
e "Two irregularities can sometimes make something regular."
41
A STUDY IN THE LOGICAL CALCULUS

Early 1690's
This paper is one of several which mark the most advanced stage reached by Leibniz in his
efforts to establish the rules for a logical calculus. They are certainly later than August,
1690, when he wrote the logical studies given in Couto OF., pages 232-37 and 421-23.
The fundamental logical relations are still identity or coincidence, inclusion or contain-
ment, and combination - still expressed as logical addition, as in the earlier paper given
in No. 26, I, from 1679. Leibniz's own title for a companion study, less complete than
this one, but introducing also the relation of subtraction, which is missing here (cf. p. 381,
note I), was 'An Example, Not Inelegant, of Demonstrating in Abstract Terms' (G.,
VII,228).
[G., VII, 236-47]
Definition 1. Same or coincident terms are those which can be substituted for each
other anywhere without affecting truth. For example, 'triangle' and 'trilateral', for in
all the propositions demonstrated by Euclid about a triangle, trilateral can be sub-
stituted, and the converse, without affecting their truth.
A 00 B signifies that A and B are the same; thus we may say of the straight lines XY
and YX: YX 00 XY, or the shortest distance of motion from X to Yand from Y to X
coincides (Figure 15). A
" ... - ... ------ --"--.. - ........ ...
x(:' . :~y
.
............... _-----_ ... -_ ... - .... ...'"
B
Fig. 15.
Definition 2. Diverse terms are those which are not the same or in which substi-
tution sometimes does not work. Such are the circle and the triangle, also the square
(that is, the perfect square, as geometricians always understand it) and the equilateral
quadrangle, for the latter can be said of the rhombus, which cannot however be called
a square.
A non 00 B signifies that A and B are diverse, as are the lines XYand RS (Figure 16).
R y
. s. .
x
Fig. 16.
Proposition 1. If A 00 B, then also Boo A. If anything is the same as another thing, that
other will be the same as it. For since A 00 B (by hypothesis) (by Def. 1), B can be
substituted for A, and A for B in the statement A 00 B (true by hypothesis); therefore,
it follows that Boo A.

Proposition 2. If A non 00 B, B is also non 00 A. If one thing is diverse from another,

the other will be diverse from the first. Otherwise B would be 00 A. Then, however (by
the preceding theorem), A would be 00 B, which is contrary to hypothesis.
Proposition 3. If A 00 Band B 00 C, A will be 00 C. Terms which are the same as a
third term are the same as each other. For if in the statement A 00 B (true by hypo-
thesis) C is substituted in place of B (by Def. 1, since Boo C), it follows that the propo-
sition is true.
Corollary. If AooBand Boo C,and CooD, A will be 00 D, and so forth. For A 00 Boo
C, therefore A 00 C (by this proposition). Further A 00 Coo D, therefore (by this propo-
sition) A 00 D.
Hence, since equals are the same in magnitude, the consequence is that terms equal
to a third term are equal to each other. Euclid, to make an equilateral triangle, makes
both sides equal to the base, with the result that they are equal to each other. If some-
thing is moved in a circle, it needs only to be shown that the paths of any two succes-
sive periods or rotations to the same point coincide with each other to conclude that
the paths of any periods whatever coincide.
Proposition 4. If A 00 Band B non 00 C, A non 00 C. If one of two terms which are the
same as each other is diverse from a third, the other is also diverse from the third. For if
in the proposition B non 00 C (true by hypothesis) A is substituted in place of B, the
true proposition results that A non 00 C.
Definition 3. A is in L or L contains A is the same, and L can be substituted for a
plurality of terms taken together which includes A.
Definition 4. All things which contain whatever is in L are said together to be
components with respect to L, and L is the composed or constituted.
Bffi NooL denotes that B is in L or that L contains B; but Band N together con-
stitute or compose L. The same applies in the case of many terms.
Definition 5. Subalternates I call terms of which one is in the other; as A and B, if
B is in A, or A is in B.
Definition 6. Disparates are terms of which neither is in the other.
Axiom 1. BffiN 00 NffiB, or transposition makes no difference here.
Postulate 1. Given any term whatever, something can be assumed to be diverse
from it, and, if desired, disparate, or so that one is not in the other.
Postulate 2. Any number of terms whatever, such as A and B, can be added
together into one, composing A ffi B or L.
Axiom 2. A ffi A 00 A. If nothing new is added, nothing new results, or repetition
changes nothing. (For though four coins and another four coins are obviously eight
coins, this is not true of four coins and the same four coins counted again.)
Proposition 5. If A is in B, and A 00 C, C is also in B. Whatever coincides with an
inexistent is also inexistent. For if we substitute C for A (by Def. 1, since A 00 C by
hypothesis) in the proposition A is in B (true by hypothesis) the result is that C is in B.
Proposition 6. IfC is in B, and A 00 B, C is also in A. Whatever is in one of two coin-
cident terms is also in the other. For substituting A for C (since A 00 C), in the propo-
sition C is in B, A is in B. (This is the converse of the preceding proposition.)
Proposition 7. A is in A. Any term whatever is in itself For A is in A ffi A (by defini-
tion of inexistence or by Def. 3) and A ffi A 00 A (by Axiom 2). Therefore (by Prop. 6)
A is inA.
Proposition 8. If A 00 B, A is in B. One of two coincidents is in the other. This is
clear from the preceding proposition, for according to it, A is in A, that is (by hypo-
thesis),inB.
Proposition 9. If AeoB, AEElCeoBEElC. If coincident terms are added to the same
term, the results coincide. For if you substitute for A its coincident B (by Def. 1) in the
proposition A EEl Ceo A EEl C (true in itself), the result is that A EEl CeoBEEl C (Figure 17).
A triangle i
B trilateral ~ coincide;
A + C equilateral triangle ~
coincide.
B + C equilateral trilateral
Scholium. This proposition cannot be converted, much less the following two. In
the problem of Proposition 25 below, a way will be taught to show this at once.
B(f)C
Fig. 17.
Proposition 10. If A eo Land B eo M, A EEl B eo L EEl M. If coincidents are added to

coincidents, the results are coincident. For since Beo M, A EEl B will be eo A EEl M by the
preceding theorem; and substituting L for the second A (since A eo L by hypothesis),
AEElBeoLEElM. A, a triangle, and L, a trilateral, coincide. B, regular, and M, the
largest area with the same perimeter and same number of sides, coincide. A regular
triangle and a trilateral making the largest area of any three-sided figure with the same
perimeter coincide (Figure 18).
A(f)B
L(f)M
Fig. 18.

Scholium. This proposition cannot be converted, for if A EB Boo L EB M and A 00 L

it does not follow that Boo M. And much less can the following proposition be con-
verted.!
Proposition 11. If AooL and BooM 'and CooN, AEBBEBCooLEBMEBN, and so
forth. If there is any number whatever of terms and some of them coincide with an equal
number of others, term for term, any term composed of the former will coincide with a
term composed of the latter. For (by the preceding proposition, since A 00 L and Boo M)
it will follow that A EB B 00 L EB M. Hence, since CooN, it follows further by the pre-
ceding that A EB B EB CooL EB M EB N.
Proposition 12. IfB is in L, AEBB will be in AEBL. If the same term be added to the
contained and the container, the former result will be contained in the latter. For let
LooBEBN (by definition of inexistence); then AEBB is in BEBN®A (by the same
definition), that is, in LEBA.
Let B be equilateral, L regular, A quadrilateral. Equilateral is in or is a part of
regular. Therefore quadrilateral equilateral is in quadrilateral regular or perfect
square. YS is in RS. Therefore RT® YS or RS is in RTEBRX, or in RX (Figure 19).
AEBL
L
Fig. 19.
Scholium. This proposition cannot be converted, for if A EB B is in A EB L, it does

not follow that B is in L.
Proposition 13. IfL EB B 00 L, B will be in L. If any term with another added to it does
not become another term, the thing added is in it. For B is in LEBB (by definition of
inexistence) and L®Boo L (by hypothesis). Therefore (by Prop. 6) Bis in L.
RYEB RX 00 RX; therefore, RYis in RX.
RYis in RX; therefore, RY® RX 00 RX.
Let L be a parallelogram (whose opposite sides are parallel) and B a quadrilateral. A
quadrilateral parallelogram is the same as parallelogram; therefore, quadrilateral is in
parallelogram. On the other hand, quadrilateral is in parallelogram; therefore,
quadrilateral parallelogram is the same as a parallelogram (Figure 20).
Proposition 14. IfB is in L, L®BooL. Subalternates compose nothing new, or if
what is in another term is added to it, it makes nothing more than the term itself This is
the converse of the preceding. If B is in L, LooBEBP (by definition of inexistence).
Therefore (by Prop. 9), LEBBooB®PEBB, that is (by Axiom 2) ooBEBP, which is (by
hypothesis) 00 L.
Proposition 15. If A is in Band B is in C, A is also in C. A term contained in a con-
tained term is contained in its container. For A is in B (by hypothesis); therefore A EB L
#''',..,..---c--.. . , . . . .
/~,. '"
"
,/
" "
y
\\
•
R\ ) !X
~,~
" ......... _-_ ....."",., "
:
,
, B /
'...
~
,'"
'.... ............ _---_.--.."
Bel
Fig. 20.
ooB (by definition of inexistence). Similarly since B is in C, BffiM will be 00 C.

Substituting A Ee L (which we showed to coincide with it) for B in this assertion, it
follows that A EeL Ee Moo C. Therefore (by definition of inexistence), A is in C (Figure
21).
R T 5 X
Fig. 21.
RT is in RS and RS is in RX. Therefore, RT is in RX. Let A be quadrilateral, B

a parallelogram, and C a rectangle. To be a quadrilateral is in parallelogram, and to be
a parallelogram is in rectangle (that is, a figure all of whose angles are right). Therefore,
to be a quadrilateral is in rectangle. These can be inverted, if in place of the notions
considered in themselves we consider the individuals comprehended in the notion,
and let A be rectangle, B parallelogram, and C quadrilateral. For all rectangles are
comprehended in the number of parallelograms, and all parallelograms in the number
of quadrilaterals. Hence all rectangles are contained in quadrilaterals. In the same
way all men are contained in all animals, and all animals in all corporeal substances;
therefore all men are contained in all corporeal substances. But on the contrary, the
notion of corporeal substance is in the notion of animal, and the notion of animal is
in the notion of man. For to be a man contains to be an animal.
Scholium. This proposition cannot be converted, and the following even less so.
Corollary. If A Ee N is in B, N also is in B. For N is in A Ee N (by definition of in-
existence).
Proposition 16. If A is in B, and B is in C, and C is in D, A is also in D, and so forth.
A term contained in one contained is contained in the container. For if A is in Band B is
in C, A is in C (by the preceding proposition).
Proposition 17. If A is in Band B is in A, AooB. Terms which contain each other
coincide. For if A is inB, A EeNooB (by definition of inexistence) (Figure 22). Now Bis
in A (by hypothesis); hence A ffi N is in A (by Prop. 5). Therefore (by corollary or

B
...... ' ........
-',
"\
,
Fig. 22.
Prop. 15), Nis in A. Therefore (by Prop. 14), AooAEBN or AooB. Let RTbe N; RS,
A; RS EB RT, B. To be trilateral is in triangle, and to be triangle is in trilateral. There-
fore triangle and trilateral coincide. Similarly to be omniscient is to be omnipotent.
Proposition 18. If A is in L, and B is in L, A EB B is also in L. What is composed of
two inexistents in the same term is in that same term. For since A is in L (by hypothe-
sis), it can be understood that A EBM 00 L (by definition of inexistence). Similarly,
since B is in L, it can be understood that BEB N 00 L. Combining these, it follows (by
Prop. 10) that A EBMEBBEBNooLEBL (Figure 23). Therefore (by Axiom 2), A EB MEB
BEBNoo L. Therefore (by definition of inexistence), A EBB is in L. Thus RYS is in RX.
YSTis in RX. Therefore, RTis in RX.
A®S
Fig. 23.
Let A be equiangular; B equilateral; A EB B equiangular equilateral, or regular; L

square. Equiangular is in square; equilateral is in square. Therefore, regular is in
square.
Proposition 19. If A is in Land B is in Land C is in L, A EB B EB C will be in L, and so
forth. Or in general, if terms taken separately are in a term, their composite is also in it
For A EB B is in L (by the preceding proposition). Now C is also in L (by hypothesis);
therefore (also by the preceding proposition), A EB B EB C is in L.
Scholium. It is clear that these propositions and similar ones can be converted. For
if A EB B 00 L, it is clear from the definition of inexistents that A is in Land B is in L.
Likewise if A EB B EB CooL, it is clear that A is in L, and B is in L, and C is in L. Like-
wise A EB B is in L, and A EB C is in L, and B EB C is in L, and so forth.
Proposition 20. If A is in M and B is in N, A EB B will be in M EB N. If one of two

terms is in a third term, and the other is in another fourth term, the composite of the
antecedent terms is in the composite of the two other terms. For A is in M (by hy-
pothesis) and M is in MEBN (by definition of inexistence). Therefore (by Prop. 15),
A is in MEBN. Similarly, since B is in N, and N is in MEBN, B is in MEBN. But if A
is in M EB Nand B is in M EB N, then (by Prop. 18) A EB B is in M EB N (Figure 24).
M(ilN
AG>S
Fig. 24.
RTisin RYandSy in SX; therefore,RTEBSYor RYisin RYEBSXor RX.
2
Let A be quadrilateral, B equiangular; then AEBB will be rectangular. Let M be a

parallelogram, and N, regular, then MEBN is a square. Now a quadrilateral is in
parallelogram, and equiangular is in regular; therefore, rectangular (or equiangular
quadrilateral) is in regular parallelogram or square.
Scholium. This proposition cannot be converted. Though A be in M, and also A EB B
in M EB N, it does not always follow that B is in N, for it may happen that A as well as
B is in M, or that some things which are in B are also in M and others in N. Hence the
following proposition similar to it even less convertible.
Proposition 21. If A is in M andB is in N, andC is in P, AEBBEBC is in MEBNEBP,
and so forth. A composite of contained terms is in a composite of containing terms. For
since A is in M and B is N, A EB B is in M EB N (by the preceding proposition). Further,
since Cis in P(again by the preceding proposition), A EBBEB Cis in MEBN(f)P.
Proposition 22. Given two disparate terms A and B, to find a third term C diverse
from them which with them will form the subalternates A (f) C and B (f) C; that is, so that,
though A and Bare not in each other, A (f) CandBEB Cwill be in each other.
Solution. If we wish A EB C to be in B(f) C, though A is not in B, this can be done as
follows: Assume something D (by Postulate 1) such that it is not in A, but making
(by Postulate 2) A + D Cf) C, then what we seek has been accomplished (Figure 25).
For A (f) CCf) A (f)A (f)D 3 (by construction) Cf) A EBD (by Axiom 2). Similarly, BEB C
Cf) BEBA (f)D (by construction). But A (f)D is in BEBA (f)D (by Def. 3). Therefore, A (f)
C is in B(f)C. Which was to be done.

SYand YX are disparate. Let RSEBSYCf) YR; then SY(f) YR will be in XY(f) YR.
Let A be equilateral, B parallelogram, D equiangular, C equilateral equiangular or
regular. Then it is clear that though equilateral and parallelogram are disparate so
that neither is in the other, yet a regular equilateral is in a regular parallelogram
or square. But, you say, this prescribed construction does not succeed in all cases
of the problem. For example, let A be a trilateral, B a quadrilateral. Then no notion

8@C
Fig. 25.
can be found such that A and B are both in it and that A EB C is also in a given B(fj C,
since A and B are incompatibles. I reply that our general construction depends upon
the second postulate, according to which something can be composed of anything
whatever. Thus God, soul, body, point, and heat together constitute an aggregate
of these five things. And so a quadrilateral and a trilateral can be compounded, and the
problem solved. Assume D as anything which is not contained in a trilateral; let us say,
a circle. Then A EB D is a trilateral and a circle, which may be called C. Then C EB A is
nothing again, but a trilateral and a circle. For in any case it is in CEBB, that is, in a
trilateral, a circle, and a quadrilateral. But if anyone seeks to apply this general cal-
culus of compounds of any kind whatsoever to some special type of compounding,
for example, if someone wishes the trilateral and circle and quadrilateral not merely
to compose an aggregate, but each as a concept to be in the same subject,' he must see
whether they are compatible. Thus immovable scattered straight lines may indeed be
taken to compose one aggregate but not to compose a continuum. 4
Proposition 23. Given two disparate terms A and B, to find a third, C, diverse from
them.
Solution. Assume (by Postulate 2) that Coo A (fj B, and the problem is solved. For
since A and B are disparate (by hypothesis), that is, neither is in the other (by Def. 6), it
follows that C cannot be 00 A, nor CooB (by Prop. 13). Therefore, these three terms
are diverse, just as the problem presupposes. Furthermore, A EB Coo A (fj A EB B (by
construction); that is, 00 A EB B (by Axiom 2). Therefore, A EB Coo A EB B, which was to
be done.
Proposition 24. To find any desired number of terms, each diverse from the others,
and related to each other in such a way that no new term can be composed from them, nor
a term diverse from any ofthem whatsoever.
Solution. Assume A, B, C, and D to be ahy terms whatever diverse from each other
(by Postulate 1). From them (by Postulate 2), let A (fjBoo M; M(fj Coo N; and N(fjDoo
P. Then A, B, M, N, and P are the desired terms. For by construction, M is made
from A and B, and furthermore, A or B is in M, and M is in N, N in P. Therefore, by
Proposition 16, any of the prior terms is in anyone of the posterior. Now, if you com-
pound any two terms with each other, no new term is constituted. For if you compound
the same terms with itself, there is no new term. LEBLooL, by Axiom 2. But if you
compound one with another, you compound an earlier with a later, and therefore an
inexistent term with its container, as L EB N. But L EB NooN (by Prop. 14). Now, if you
compound three term together, as L EBN EBP, you compound a binary, L EBN, with
one, P. But the binary L (fj N in itself compounds nothing new but only one of its own
terms, namely, the latter one, N, as I have already shown. Therefore to compound the
binary L (f) N with the one term P is the same as to compound the one term N with P,
and as I have just shown, compounds nothing new. Therefore, a binary together with
one, or a ternary, compounds nothing new. And so on for many terms. Q.E.D.
Scholium. It would have sufficed to add terms continuously inexistent in themselves,
as M, N, P, and this will indeed result if in our construction we set A OC) nothing, and
let BOC) M. But the given solution seems a little more inclusive. Undoubtedly all the
problems so far could be soved in other ways. But to show all these possible solutions,
that is, to prove that there are no other possible methods, would require that many
more propositions should previously be proved. For example, five terms, A, B, C, D,
and E, can have only the following methods of arrangement, so that no new term can
be compounded from them: first, if A is in B, Bin C, C in D, and D in E; second, if
A (f)BOC) C, and Cis in D, and D in E; third, if A EBBOC) C, and A is in D, and B(f)DOC) E.
In this third or last mode, moreover, there are these five notions: equiangular A,
equilateral B, regular C, rectangular D, square E. From these no new term can be
compounded which does not already coincide with them, because equiangular and
equilateral coincides with regular, and equiangular is in rectangular, and equilateral
rectangular coincides with square. Hence equiangular regular is the same as regular and
equilateral regular is also, and equiangular rectangular is rectangular, and regular
rectangular is square.
Scholium to Definitions 3, 4, 5, and 6. We say that the notion of a genus is in the
notion of a species but that the individuals of the species are in the individuals of the
genus. The part is in the whole, and the indivisible is also in the continuum, as a point
is in a line, even though a point is not a part of a line. Thus the notion of a modification
or a predicate is in the notion of the subject. This consideration has in general the very
widest application. We say too that inexistents are contained in the terms in which
they are. In this connection it makes no difference to this general notion how the
terms are in each other or in a container. s Thus our demonstrations also apply to
those things which compose something distributively, as all species together compose a
genus. Hence all the inexistents sufficient to constitute a container, or which contain
all the terms which are in the container, are said to compose the container itself. For
example, A EEl B is said to compose L, if A, B, and L signify straight lines RS, YX, RX,
since RS EEl YX OC) RX. Similarly RS EEl SX OC) RX. Such parts which exhaust a whole,
I usually call 'cointegrants', especially if they have no part in common, in which case
they may be called 'comembers', as RS and RX. Hence it is clear that the same term
can be composed in many ways, if the terms of which it is composed are further com-
posite. Indeed, if they can be resolved into the infinite, the variations of composition
are infinite. Thus analysis and synthesis together depend upon the foundations con-
structed here. Furthermore, if the terms which are contained are homogeneous with
that in which they are contained, they are called 'parts', and the container is called the
'whole'. If any two parts whatever are so related that a third can be found having a
part of each in common, that which is composed of the three is a continuum. Thus it is
clear how one consideration gradually arises out of another. Furthermore, I call terms
of which one is in the other 'subalternates'; for example species in a genus, and the
straight line RS in the straight line RX. I call them 'disparates' when this is not true;
for example, the straight lines RS and YX, two species ofthe same genus, a perfect and
an imperfect metal. This applies especially to members of diverse divisions of the same

whole which have something in common; for example, if we divide metals into per-
fect and imperfect, and further into those which are soluble in aqua fortis and those
insoluble in it, it is clear that a metal insoluble in aqua fortis and a perfect metal are
two disparates and that there is a perfect metal, or one that fulminates, which remains
in the retort which is yet soluble in aqua fortis, namely, silver, and that on the other
hand, there is an imperfect metal insoluble in aqua fortis, namely tin.
Scholium to Axioms 1 and 2. Since the art of characteristics [speciosa generalis] 6 is
nothing but the representation and treatment of combinations by signs, and there are
various conceivable laws of combination, the result is that various methods of com-
pounding arise. Here, however, we take no account of variations which consist in
merely changing the order of terms; AB is the same as BA for us. Furthermore, we also
take no account here of repetition; AA is the same as A for us. Thus, wherever these
laws are observed, the present calculus can be applied. But this calculus is clearly
observed in the compounding of absolute concepts, where there is no ground for
arrangement or for repetition; thus it is the same to say 'warm and bright' as to say
'bright and warm', and to say a 'warm fire' or 'white milk', as the poets do, is redun-
dant, for white milk is nothing but milk and rational man merely rational animal,
since rational is nothing but rational animal. The same holds when certain determinate
things are said to exist in things. It is vain to add the same real more than once. When
two and two are said to make four, the latter two must be diverse from the former two.
If they were the same, they would produce nothing new. This would be like trying, in
jest, to make six eggs out of three, by counting first the three eggs, then taking away
one and counting the remaining two, and again taking away one and counting the
remaining one. But in the calculus of numbers and magnitudes, A or B or any other
signs do not signify a definite thing, but any cases whatever of the same number of
congruent parts; for any two feet whatever are signified by 2 if the foot is the unit of
measure. Hence 2 + 2 make a new term 4, and 3 times 3 a new term 9; for it is always
presupposed that diverse terms, though of the same magnitude, are involved. But the
case is different in certain matters, for example, lines. Assume that a movable point
draws a straight line, RYEB YXoo RYX, or PEBBoo L, extending from R to Y (Figure
26). Let us assume then that the same point returns from X toward Yand stops there.
sEBc
A\t)C
Fig. 26.
Then, although it has twice described YX or B, it has produced nothing more than if it
had once described YX. LEBB is the same as L, or P EBB EBB or RYEB YXEBXYis the
same as RYEB YX. This warning is of great importance in estimating the magnitude
of those things which are generated by the magnitude and motion of things generating
or describing them. For here one must be careful not to have one part retrace another
or to have one part of the describing line take the place of another; or we must sub-
tract it in this case, so that the same term is not added more than once. It is also clear
that according to the notion used here, the magnitudes of components added together
can constitute a magnitude greater than that of the thing which they compose. Thus
the composition of terms and of magnitudes differs greatly. For example, if the whole
line L, or RX, has two parts A or RS, and B or YX, of which each is greater than half
of RX itself (for instance, if RX is 5 feet, RS is 4 feet, and YX is 3 feet), obviously the
magnitudes of the parts will compose the magnitude of 7 feet, which is greater than
that of the whole line, yet the lines RS and YX themselves compose only RX, or RS EB
YX 00 RX. It is for this reason that I designate real addition by EB, while I designate
the addition of magnitudes by +. Finally, it makes a big difference in real addition
what the order is when we are dealing with the actual generation of things, for the
foundation must be laid before the house is built. But in the mental formation of
terms the result is the same, whatever ingredient we consider first, even though one
method of consideration may be more useful than another. Hence order does not
affect the development of the theory of this calculus. We shall have to consider order
at the proper time. But now R Y EB YS EB SX is the same as YS EB R Y EB SX.
Scholium to Proposition 24. RS and YX are diverse, and also disparate, so that
neither is in the other. Let RSEB YXoo RX; then RSEBRXwill be the same as YXEBRX.
For the straight line RX is always compounded in its notions. Let A be a parallelo-
gram, B equiangular, term~ which are disparate. Let C be A EBB, that is, rectangular.
Then rectangular parallelogram will be the same as equiangular rectangle, for neither
is anything but rectangular. In general, let Maevius be A, Titius B, the pair of men
composing C. Then Maevius will be one of this pair just as Titius will be one, and
nothing will result but this pair on both sides. Another solution can be given to this
which is more elegant and specialized, when A and B have something given in common
and also have something that is distinctive of each. Thus let M be distinctive of A and
N distinctive of B; make MEBNooD; and let P be what is common to both. I say
A EBD will be 00 BEBD. For since A ooPEBM, and BooPEBN, A EBD will be 00 PEBMEB
N, and BEBD also will be 00 PEBMEBN.
REFERENCES
1 At this point the companion study, the 'Not Inelegant Example', included the following
proposition on subtraction: "If coincident terms are subtracted from coincident terms, the
remainders will coincide. If A 00 L,andB 00 M, thenA-Boo L-M. For A-B 00 A-B(this
is true in itself), and, by substituting L for A and M for B on either side (by the definition of
co incidents), the result is that A-B 00 L-M. Q.E.D."
This theorem was accompanied by the following marginal note: "Subtraction of concepts
is one thing, negation another. For example, nonrational man is absurd or impossible. But it
is permissible to say that an ape is a man except that it is not rational. [They are] men except
in the respect in which man differs from a beast, as in the Jumbo of Grotius. Man -rational is
different from nonrational man. For man -rational 0Ci beast. But nonrational man is impossible.
Man -rational-animal is nothing. Hence subtraction can result in nothing or in simple non-
existence; in fact, in less than nothing. But negation gives impossibility" (G., VII, 232"C"33
and note).
2 ReadingSYfor ST(G., VII, 242) and, below,SXfor SYand RXfor RY.
3 G.hasL.
4 The parallel to the distinction between nominal and real definitions, so frequently discussed
by Leibniz, at once suggests itself.
5 That is, the rules will be the same, whether the proposition is interpreted intensionally or
extensionally.
6 One of Leibniz's many names for his new science, derived from the more particular 'specious
analysis' of Descartes, or algebra (cf. No. 13 and p. 166, note 2).
42
CRITICAL THOUGHTS ON THE GENERAL PART OF THE

PRINCIPLES OF DESCARTES
1692
The critical notes which Leibniz wrote to the first two parts of the Principia philosophiae
were intended to be the nucleus for a definitive judgment on Descartes's entire system
from Leibniz's point of view and therefore summarized and united all the special criti-
cisms of particular points which he had been making for the previous twenty years. In
1692 Leibniz sent the manuscript to Basnage de Beauval in Holland, with instructions to
find a publisher (an assignment which Basnage was unable to carry out) and at the same
time to submit the notes to Huygens, Bayle, and other scholars for their criticism.
Basnage kept the document until 1697, when he sent it to John Bernoulli at Groningen.
In the Principia philosophiae, Part I, Descartes had restated the general metaphysical
position of the Meditations more exactlyJollowing them in Part 1/ with his conception of
the nature of body and of motion. Thus Leibniz's notes on Part I are valuable for their
sharp formulation of his own views on knowledge and truth and for his careful analysis of
the psychological and epistemological nature of error. Part 1/ is one of the best statements
available of the methodological use which Leibniz makes of the principle of continuity
in physics. The text is that of Leibniz's revision. Several readings from his first draft are
printed in the notes.
[G., IV, 354-92]
ON PART I
On Article 1. Descartes's dictum that everything in which there is the least uncertainty
is to be doubted might have been better and more exactly formulated in the precept
that we must consider the degree of assent or dissent which a matter deserves or, more
simply, that we must look into the reasons for every doctrine. This would end all the
caviling about Cartesian doubt. But perhaps the author preferred to use paradoxes, in
order to stimulate the sluggish reader through novelty. I wish, however, that he had
remembered his own precept or rather, that he had understood its true force. We can
best explain this matter and its application by the example of geometricians. They are
agreed upon axioms and postulates, upon whose truth the rest depends. We accept
these, both because they satisfy the mind immediately and because they are proved by
countless experiences; nevertheless, it would be an aid to the perfection of science to
prove them. This was attempted of old for certain axioms by Apollonius and Proclus
and recently by Roberval. Euclid tried to prove that two sides of a triangle taken
together are greater than the third (a fact which, as a certain old writer jokingly said,
even a jackass knows when he goes to his feed in a straight line rather than a rounda-
bout way), because it was his purpose to base geometric truths not on sensory images
but on reason. In the same manner he might also have demonstrated that two straight

lines (which do not coincide when extended) can have only one point in common if he
had only had a good definition of a straight line. 1 I am convinced that the demonstra-
tion of the axioms is of great assistance to true analysis or the art of discovery. So if
Descartes had wished to carry out what is best in his rule, he should have worked at
the demonstration of scientific principles and thus achieved in philosophy what
Proclus tried to do in geometry, where it is less necessary. But our author seems some-
times to have preferred applause rather than certainty. I should not blame him for
being satisfied so often with verisimilitude, if he himself had not aroused expectations
with so strong a profession of exactness. I blame Euclid much less for assuming
certain things without proof, for he at least established the fact that if we assume a
few hypotheses, we can be sure that what follows is equal in certainty, at least, to the
hypotheses themselves. If Descartes or other philosophers had done something similar
to this, we should not be in difficulty. Moreover, the skeptics, who despise the sciences
on the pretext that they sometimes use undemonstrated principles, ought to regard this
as said also to them. I hold, in contrast, that the geometricians should be praised
because they have pinned down science with such pegs, as it were, and have discovered
an art of advancing and of deriving so many things from a few. If they had tried to put
off the discovery of theorems and problems until all the axioms and postulates had
been proved, we should perhaps have no geometry today.
On Article 2. Furthermore, I do not see what good it does to consider what is
doubtful as false. This would be not to lay aside prejudices but to change them. But if
this is understood merely as a fiction, it should not have been abused, as for instance,
in the fa:Ilacy which will be seen, below in Article 8, to arise where the difference
between mind and body is discussed.
On Article 4. About sensible things we can know nothing more, nor ought we to
desire to know more, than that they are consistent with each other as well as with
rational principles that cannot be doubted, and hence that future events can to some
extent be foreseen from past. To seek any other truth or reality than what this contains
is vain, and skeptics ought not to demand any other, nor dogmatists promise it. 2
On Article 5. There can be no doubt in mathematical demonstrations except inso-
far as we need to guard against error in our arithmetical calculations. For this there
is no remedy except to re-examine the calculation frequently or to have it tested by
others and also to add confirmatory proofs. This weakness of the human mind arises
from a lack of attention and memory and cannot be completely overcome, and
Descartes's mention of it, as if he knew a remedy, is in vain. It would be enough if the
state of affairs in other fields were the same as that in mathematics; indeed, all rea-
soning, even the Cartesian, however convincing and accurate, is subject to this doubt,
whatever may be said about some powerful deceiving spirit or about the distinction
between dreams and waking.
On Article 6. We have a free wiII not in perceiving but in acting. Whether honey will
seem sweet or bitter to me does not lie with my will, but neither does it lie with my
will whether a proposed theorem will seem true or false to me; it is the business of
consciousness merely to examine what appears to it. Whoever makes an affirmation
of anything is conscious either of a present perception or reason or at least of a present
memory bringing back a past perception or the perception of a past reason, although
we are often deceived in this through unreliable memory or faulty attention. But con-
sciousness of the present or past is in no way dependent on our will. This one thing we
recognize to be within the power of will- to command attention and exertion. And so
the will, though it does not bring about any opinion in us, can nevertheless contribute
to it obliquely. Thus it happens that men often finally come to believe what they will
to be true, after having accustomed the mind to attend most strongly to the things
which they favor. In this way they finally succeed in making it satisfy not merely their
will but also their consciousness. 3 See on Article 31.
On Article 7. I think, therefore I am. Descartes has well noted that this belongs to
the first truths. But it would have been equitable not to neglect others of equal signi-
ficance. In general, therefore, this can be expressed as follows. Truths are either offact
or of reason. The primary truth of reason is the principle of contradiction or, what
amounts to the same thing, that of identity, as Aristotle has rightly observed. There are
as many primary truths of fact as there are immediate perceptions or if I may say so,
consciousnesses. However, I am conscious not only of myself thinking but also of my
thoughts, and it is no more true and certain that I think than that this or that is thought
by me. Hence the primary truths of fact can conveniently be reduced to these two:
'I think' and 'Various things are thought by me'. Whence it follows not only that I am,
but that I am affected in various ways.
On Article 8. It is not valid to reason: 'I can assume or imagine that no corporeal
body exists, but I cannot imagine that I do not exist or do not think. Therefore I am
not corporeal, nor is thought a modification of the body,' I am amazed that so able
a man could have based so much on so flimsy a sophism. Certainly he adds nothing
more in this article; what he has added to it in the Meditations I shall examine in its
proper place. No one who thinks that the soul is corporeal will admit that we can
assume that nothing corporeal exists, but he will admit that we can doubt (as long as
we are ignorant of the nature of the soul) whether anything corporeal exists or does not
exist. And since we nevertheless see clearly that our soul exists, he will admit that only
one thing follows from this: that we can still doubt that the soul is corporeal. And no
amount of torture can extort anything more from this argument. But Descartes pro-
vided an opening for this fallacy above in Article 2 by taking the license of rejecting
what is doubtful as false, so that it becomes possible to assume that there are no
corporeal beings because we can doubt that they exist, a point which cannot be grant-
ed him. It would be different if we understood the nature of the soul as perfectly as we
do its existence, for then it would be established that whatever does not appear in it
is not in it.
On Article 13. I have already observed, on Article 5, that the errors which can
arise from defective memory or attention and which can also occur in arithmetical
calculations even after a perfect method has been found, as in numbers, have been
mentioned here to no purpose, since no method can be devised in which such errors
are not to be feared, especially when the reasoning is long drawn out. So one must
resort to criteria. For the rest, God seems to be called in here merely as a kind of
display or showpiece\ not to mention that strange fiction or doubt as to whether we
are not led to err even in the most evident things, which should convince no one
because the nature of evidence prevents it and the experiences and successes of the whole
of life witness against it. And if this doubt could once be justly raised, it would be
straightway insuperable; it would always confront Descartes himself and anyone else,
however evident the assertions presented by them. Aside from this, we must recognize
that this doubt cannot be established by denying God or removed by introducing him.

For even if there were no God, we should nonetheless be capable of truth, if only it
remained possible for us to exist. And even if it be granted that God exists, it does not
thence follow that there exists no created being that is entirely fallible and imper-
fect, especially ~ce it is possible~hat its imperfection may not be native but super-
induced, perhaps· by some great sin, as the Christian theologians teach concerning
original sin, so that this evil could not be imputed to God. But even though it does not
seem ~pproprJate to have introduced God here, I nevertheless think that the true
knowledge of God is the principle of higher wisdom, though for other reasons. For
God is the first cause no less than the ultimate reason of things, and there is no better
knowledge of things than through their causes and reasons.
On Article 14. The argument for the existence of God taken from the concept of
God was first discovered and stated, so far as is known, by Anselm, archbishop of
Canterbury, in his book Contra insipientem, which still exists. s It was frequently ex-
amined by various authors of the Scholastic theology and by Thomas Aquinas him-
self, from whom Descartes, who was no stranger to this knowledge, having studied
with the Jesuits of La Fleche, seems to have borrowed it. This reasoning contains
something beautiful but is nevertheless imperfect. The argument reduces to this.
Whatever can be demonstrated from the concept of a thing can be ascribed to that
thing. Now from the concept of a most perfect or greatest being, its existence can be
demonstrated. Therefore existence can be attributed to the most perfect being (God),
or God exists. The minor premise is proved thus: The most perfect or greatest being
contains all perfections, and therefore existence, which is undoubtedly one of the
perfections, since it is more or greater to exist than not to exist. So much for the
argument. But, by omitting perfection and greatness, the argument could have been
formulated more fittingly and strictly in this way. A necessary being exists (that is,
a being whose essence is existence or a being which exists of itself), as is clear from the
terms. Now God is such a being, by definition of God. Therefore God exists. These
arguments are valid, if only it is granted that a most perfect being or a necessary being
is possible and implies no contradiction or, what amounts to the same thing, that an
essence is possible from which existence follows. But as long as this possibility is not
demonstrated, the existence of God can by no means be considered as perfectly
demonstrated by such an argument. In general, we must recognize, as I have long
since pointed out, that nothing can safely be inferred about a definite thing out of
any given definition, as long as the definition is not known to express something
possible. For if it should happen to imply some hidden contradiction, it would be
possible for something absurd to be deduced from it. 6
Meanwhile we do learn from this argument the admirable advantage of the divine
nature, that if it is merely possible, by this fact itself it exists, an argement which does
not suffice to prove the existence of other things. Therefore to have a geometric
demonstration of the divine existence it remains only to demonstrate the possibility
of God with an exactness adequate for geometric rigor. Meanwhile the existence of a
thing which merely needs possibility thus acquires great credibility; and besides, that
there is some necessary thing is established in another way, from the fact that contin-
gent things exist. 7
On Article 18. That we have an idea of a perfect being and that a cause of that idea
therefore exists - that is, a perfect being exists (this is Descartes's second argument)-
is more doubtful than the possibility of God and is denied by many of those who
profess with the highest zeal not merely the possibility but also the existence of God.
Nor is the remark valid which, as I recall, Descartes made somewhere to the effect that
when we speak of something with an understanding of what we say, we have an idea
of the thing. 8 For it often happens that we combine things that are incompatible, as
when we think of a most rapid motion, which is certainly impossible, and hence not an
idea; and yet we may speak of it, understanding what we mean. For I have elsewhere
explained that we often think only confusedly of what we are talking about, and we
are not conscious of the existence of an idea in our mind unless we understand the
thing and analyze it sufficiently. 9
On Article 20. The third argument suffers, among other things, from the same vice,
namely, when it assumes that there is in us an idea of the highest perfection, God, and
concludes from this that God exists because we who have this idea exist.
On Article 21. From the fact that we now are, it follows that we will be in the next
moment, unless there exists a reason for change. And so, unless it were established in
some other way that we cannot even exist without the beneficence of God, nothing
is established about the existence of God from our own duration; as if one part of this
duration were entirely independent of another, which we cannot admit. 1 0
On Article 26. Even though we are finite, we can yet know many things about the
infinite: for example, about asymptotic lines, or lines which approach each other
continuously when infinitely produced but never meet; about spaces which are infinite
in length but not greater in area than a given finite space; and about the sums of
infinite series. Otherwise we should also know nothing with certainty about God.
However, it is one thing to know something about a matter and another to comprehend
the matter, that is, to have within our power all that is hidden in the matter.
On Article 28. As for the ends which God has proposed to himself, I am fully con-
vinced both that they can be known and that it is of the highest value to investigate
them; and that to disdain this inquiry is not without danger or suspicion. In general,
whenever we see that anything is particularly useful, we may safely assert that one,
among others, of the ends which God has proposed to himself in creating this thing is
precisely that it render these services, since he both knew and planned this use of it.
I have elsewhere pointed out, and shown by examples, that certain concealed physical
truths of great importance can be discovered by considering final causes, which could
not have been discovered as easily by efficient causes. 1 1
On Article 30. Even if we admit that the perfect substance exists and that it is in no
way the cause of imperfections, we shall not thereby remove the true or fictitious
reasons for doubt which Descartes introduced, as I have already pointed out in Article
13.
On Articles 31, 35. I do not admit that errors are more dependent upon the will
than upon the intellect. To give credence to what is true or to what is false - the former
being to know, the latter to err - is nothing but the consciousness or memory of certain
perceptions or reasons and so does not depend upon will except insofar as we may be
brought by some oblique device to the point where we seem to see what we wish to see,
even when we are actually ignorant. See Article 6. Hence we make judgments not be-
cause we will but because something appears. And when it is said that will reaches
further than intellect, this is more ingenious than true; to put it bluntly, it is a bit of
popular ornamentation. We will only what appears to the intellect. The source of all
errors is precisely the same in its own way as the reason for errors which is observed

in arithmetical calculation. For through a lack of attention or memory it often happens

that we do what we ought not, or fail to do what we ought, or that we think that we
have done what we did not do, or have not done what we have. So it happens in calcu-
lations (to which reasoning corresponds in the mind) that necessary figures are not put
down but unnecessary ones are, or that something is skipped in the combination, or
that the method is not duly observed. For when our mind is tired or distraught, it
does not adequately attend to its present operations, or it assumes by an error of
memory that something was long since proved which has become more firmly fixed
in us only because it was more frequently impressed, or more fixedly considered, or
more eagerly desired. The remedy for our errors is the same as that for errors in calcu-
lation - to pay attention to the matter and form, to proceed slowly, to repeat and vary
our operations, to introduce tests and checks, to divide longer chains of reasoning
into parts so that the mind gets a breathing spell, and to confirm each part in turn
through special proofs. And since we are sometimes in a hurry to act. it is an important
matter to have acquired presence of mind through practice, as do those who are still
able, in the midst of noise and without written calculations, to compute very large
numbers. Thus the mind will not be easily distracted, whether by the external senses
or by its own images and affections, but will rise above what it is doing and retain the
power of criticism or as it is commonly called, of reflecting upon itself, so that it can
constantly say to itself, as would an external monitor, 'Watch what you are doing.
Why are you doing it? Time is passing.' The Germans use the excellent term: sich be-
greifen; the French, the equally happy one: s'aviser, as if to warn one's self, to suggest
to one's self, as the Roman nomenclators pointed out to Roman candidates the names
and merits of influential citizens, or as the prompter gives out cues for the remaining
lines to a comedian, or as a certain youth called out to Philip of Macedon: 'Remember
that yOll are morta!.' But this very criticism, this s'aviser, is not in our power or the
choice of our will; it must first of all occur to our intellect, and it depends upon the pre-
sent degree of our perfection. It is the business of the will to strive beforehand with all
zeal, to prepare the mind well in advance. This can be done usefully, partly through
a contemplation of the experiences of others, their injuries and dangers; partly by the
use of our own experiences, which should if possible be free of danger, or at least
involve only slight and negligible harm; and partly also by training the mind to follow
a definite series and method when thinking, so that later the required attitude offers
itself spontaneously, as it were. However, there are matters which escape us or do not
occur to us through no fault of ours; in these we suffer from a defect, not of judgment,
but of memory or of mental capacity, and so are not so much in error as in ignorance,
since it is beyond Ollr power to know or to remember all that we will. This is not a
matter to be discussed here. That sort of critical reflection by which we fight against a
lack of attention will suffice. Whenever memory reports to us past proofs which may
not have been valid, we should hold the confused recollection for suspect, and either
repeat our inquiry if possible and if the matter is important or trust past proofs only
if sufficient care has been given them.
On Article 37. The highest perfection of man consists not merely in that he acts
freely but still more in that he acts with reason. Better, these are both the same thing,
for the less anyone's use of reason is disturbed by the impulsion of the affections, the
freer one is.
On Article 39. To ask whether our will is endowed with freedom is the same as to
ask whether our will is endowed with will. Free and voluntary signify the same thing.
For freedom is the same as spontaneity with reason, and to will is to be brought to
act through a reason perceived by the intellect. But the purer this reason is, and the
less mixed up it is with the impact of base and confused perceptions, the freer is the
act. To refrain from judgment is not the business of our will but of the intellect impos-
ing upon itself some critical reflection, as I have already said on Article 35.
On Article 40. Anyone who is convinced that God preordains all things but that he
himself is free, and who is shown the conflict between these views but replies only
what Descartes recommends, namely, that his mind is finite and cannot grasp such
matters, seems to me to be answering the conclusion rather than the argument and
to be cutting rather than untying the knot. The question is not whether we grasp the
matter itself but rather whether we grasp our own absurdity when it is pointed out.
There should surely be no contradiction even in the mysteries of faith; much less so in
the mysteries of nature. So if we wish to stand out as philosophers, we must once more
take up the argument, which with some semblance of truth implies contradictory
conclusions from your own assertions, and uncover the fallacy in it, a thing which is
certainly always possible unless we have made a mistake.
On Articles 43, 45, 46. I have elsewhere called attention to the fact that there is not
much use in the celebrated rule that only what is clear and distinct shall be approved,
unless better marks of clearness and distinctness are offered than those of Descartes.
Preferable are the rules of Aristotle and the geometricians, namely, that with the
exception of principles, that is, of first truths or hypotheses, we are to admit nothing
unless proved by a valid argument. By valid, I mean one that is suffering from neither
a formal nor a material fallacy. There is a material fallacy when anything is assumed
besides principles and what has been further proved from principles by a valid argu-
ment. Also, by right form I understand not only the common syllogistic form but also
any other form demonstrated beforehand which is conclusive by virtue of its structure.
The forms of arithmetical and algebraic operations also meet this requirement, as do
the forms of the bookkeepers, and indeed to some extent the forms of judicial pro-
cesses, for sometimes we are content to act upon a certain degree of probability.
However until now the part of logic, of great practical value, which deals with the
calculation of degrees of probability, remains to be treated; I myself have set down a
number of things about it. On form, compare further what is said on Article 75.
On Articles 47, 48. Someone, I do not know who (Comenius, I believe), rightly
pointed out long ago that though Descartes promises in Article 47 summarily to
enumerate all the simple concepts, he deserts us at once in Article 48, and, having
named some, he adds 'and so forth'. Besides, several of those which he names are not
simple. This is an inquiry of greater importance than is thought.
On Article 50. It is most desirable to demonstrate truths which are relatively simple
but which the prejudiced opinions of men keep them from admitting, by means of
simpler ones.
On Article 51. I do know whether the definition of substance as that which needs for
its existence only the concurrence of God fits any created substance known to us,
unless we interpret it in some unusual sense. For not only do we need other substances;
we need our own accidents even much more. Therefore, since substance and accident
depend upon each other, other marks are necessary for distinguishing a substance
from an accident. Among them may be this one: That a substance needs some accident

but often does not need a determinate one but is content, when this accident is removed,
with the substitution of another. An accident, however, needs not only some substance
in general but that very one in which it inheres, so that it cannot change it. But there
are other things of greater importance and worthy of a profounder discussion, which
remain to be said elsewhere about the nature of substance.
On Article 52. I admit that there is one principal attribute of every substance which
expresses its essence, but if we mean an individual substance, I doubt whether this can
be explained in words and especially in a few words, in the way the other genera of sub-
stances may be explained by definitions.u That extension constitutes the common
nature of corporeal substance I find asserted by many, with much confidence, but
never proved. Certainly neither motion or action nor resistance or passion can be
derived from it. Nor do the natural laws which are observed in the motion and colli-
sion of bodies arise from the concept of extension alone, as I have shown elsewhere.
Indeed, the notion of extension i'l not a primitive one but is resolvable. For an extend-
ed being implies the idea of a continuous whole in which there is a plurality of things
existing simultaneously. To speak of this more fully, there is required in extension, the
notion of which is relative, a something which is extended or continued as whiteness is
in milk, and that very thing in a body which constitutes its essence; the repetition of this,
whatever it may be, is extension. I fully agree with Huygens, whose opinion in natural
and mathematical matters I value highly, that the concept of an empty place and of
extension alone is the same. In my judgment mobility or antitypy themselves cannot be
understood from extension alone but from the subject of extension, by which place is
not merely constituted but filled.
On Article 54. I do not recall that it has ever been perfectly demonstrated either by
our author or by his followers that the thinking substance lacks extension or the
extended substance lacks thought, so that we can be certain that the one attribute is
not demanded for the other in the same subject and, indeed, cannot ever subsist along
with it. Nor is this strange, for the author of the Recherche de ta verite (who has made
some excellent critical remarks) has rightly pointed out that the Cartesians have given
no distinct concept ofthought; so it is not strange that they do not exactly know what
is involved in itP
On Articles 60, 61. To deny a real distinction between modes is an unnecessary
change in the accepted use of words. For until now modes have been\considered as
things and have been held to differ in reality, as a spherical figure of wjlx differs from
a square one. Cerainly the transformation of one figure into the other is a true change,
and it has therefore a real foundation.
On Article 63. To think of thought and extension as the thinking or extended
substance itself seems to me neither correct nor possible. Such an expedient is suspect
and is similar to that which enjoins us to hold the doubtful for false. Such distortions of
things prepare minds for stubbornness and fallacies.
On Articles 65-68. Descartes, following the ancients, rendered a useful service in
eradicating the prejudice that makes heat, colors, and other phenomena seem to be
things outside of us, since it is evident that the same hand on which water seemed very
hot soon finds it tepid; and a man who observes a green color in a powdered mixture
no longer sees it as green when his eye is aided by an instrument but as a mixture of
yellow and blue and can grasp the causes of these two colors with the use of better
instruments and other observations or reasons. From these considerations it seems
that no such thing exists outside of us, the phantasm of which appears to our imagi-
nation. We are commonly like boys who have been convinced that there is a pot of
gold at the very end of the rainbow where it touches the earth and who run toward it in
a vain effort to find it. 14
On Articles 71-74. In my comments on Articles 31 and 35, I have already made
some remarks about the causes of error. These also provide reasons for the errors
discussed here, for the prejudices of infancy belong to the class of unproved assump-
tions. Moreover, fatigue diminishes attention, and the ambiguity of words belongs
with the abuse of signs and involves a formal fallacy. This is as if we put X in place of
V in our calculation, to use a German proverb, or as if a druggist were to put sandarac
into his prescription i~ place of dragon's blood [sanguis draconis].
On Article 75. It seems to me only fair to give the ancients their due and not to
conceal their merits by a silence that is malignant and injurious to ourselves. The
things which Aristotle set down in his logic, though not sufficient for discovering, are
nonetheless generally sufficient for judging, at least where necessary consequences are
concerned. It is an important thing for the conclusions of the human mind to be sta-
bilized as if by certain mathematical rules. And I have pointed out that the fallacies
which are introduced into serious matters are more often sins against logical form than
is commonly believed. So to avoid all errors, nothing more is necessary than to make
use of the most common rules of logic with great constancy and rigor. But because the
complexity of matters often prevents this persistence, we provide certain special
logical forms in the sciences and in fields of action, which should be demonstrated in
advance by these general rules but with the peculiar nature of the subject taken into
consideration. Just so Euclid has a certain logic of his own concerning the conversion,
composition, and division of proportions, which are first proved in a particular book
of the Elements and then are applied throughout the whole geometry.1S Thus both
brevity and confidence are assured, and the more of rules of this kind we have the
more we improve science. Add to this what I have observed on Articles 43ft'. on so-
called 'formal argumentations' which should be more widely extended than is com-
monly believed.
ON PART II
On Article 1. The argument by which Descartes tries to prove that material things
exist is weak; it would have been better not to try. The gist of the argument is this:
the reason why we perceive material things lies outside of us; therefore it is either in
God or in someone else or in the material things themselves. It is not in God, for if no
material things existed, he would be a deceiver; it is not in someone else - this he has
forgotten to prove; therefore it is in the things themselves, and they therefore exist.
To this we can reply that a sensation may come from some other being than God,
who permits other evils for certain important reasons and who can also permit us to be
deceived without having himself the character of a deceiver, especially since this in-
volves no injury, since it would rather be disadvantageous for us to be undeceived.
Besides, there is a further fallacy in that the argument neglects another possibility -
that while our sensations may indeed be from God or from someone else, the judg-
ment (as to whether the cause of the sensation lies in a real object outside of us), and
hence the deception itself, may originate in us. A similar thing happens when colors
and other things of this sort are held to be real objects. Through previous sins, more-

over, souls may have deserved their condemnation to such a life full of deception, in
which they snatch at shadows instead of things. The Platonists do not seem to have
shrunk back from such an opinion, since this life seemed to them like a dream in the
cave of Morpheus, the mind having lost its reason through the lethal drink before it
came here, as the poets used to say.16
On Article 4. Descartes tries to prove that body consists in extension alone by
enumerating the other attributes and eliminating them. But he should have shown that
his enumeration is complete. Also, not all the attributes are correctly eliminated; in
fact, those who hold to atoms, that is, to bodies of maximum hardness, will hold, not
that hardness consists in a body not yielding to the pressure of the hands, but in it
conserving its shape. And those who find the essence of body in antitypy or impene-
trability derive the concept of it, not from our hands or from any senses, but from the
fact that a body does not give place to another body homogeneous to it unless it can
move elsewhere. Thus if we imagine a cube having six other cubes exactly similar to it
converging upon it simultaneously and with equal velocities, so that a face of each one
of them exactly coincides with one face of the confined cube, then it will be impossible
for either the confined cube or any part of it to be moved from its position, whether
it be thought of as flexible or rigid. But if this middle cube be thought of as penetrable
extension or mere space, then the six concurrent cubes will oppose one another with
their edges; but if they are flexible, nothing will prevent their middle parts from
breaking into the confined cubical space. From this we may also understand what the
difference is between hardness, which is a property of some bodies only, and im-
penetrability, which belongs to all. Descartes should have considered the latter as
well as hardness.
On Articles 5, 6, and 7. Descartes has admirably explained that the rarefaction and
condensation which we perceive by sense can occur without our having to admit
either the existence of vacua interspersed within matter or a change of dimensions in
the same part of matter.
On Articles 8-19. Many of those who defend a vacuum hold space to be a sub-
stance and hence cannot be refuted by Descartes's arguments. Other principles are
needed to end this dispute. They will admit that quantity and number have no being
outside the things to which they are attributed, but they will deny that space or place
is the quantity of a body; they will assume rather that space has a quantity or capacity
equal to that of the body contained in this space. Descartes should have shown that
the space or internal place of a body is not different from its substance. 17 Those who
hold the contrary will defend their view with the popular conception of mortals,
according to which one body, in succeeding another, passes into the same place and
the same space which the former body has deserted - a thing which cannot possibly
be said if space coincides with the very substance of the body. Though it may be acci-
dental to a body, however, to have a certain position or to be in a given place, these
opponents will no more admit that place is itself an accident of the body than they
will that since contact is an accident, the body contacted is also one. Indeed, it seems
to me that Descartes does not so much offer sound reasons for his own opinions as he
replies to opposing arguments, which he does very skilfully at this point. And he
often uses this device instead of demonstration. But we expected something more, and
if I am not mistaken, we were invited to expect it. It must be admitted that nothingness
has no extension, and this is a fit retort to all who assume some imaginary - I know not
what - sort of space. But those who consider space a substance are not touched by this
argument; they would certainly be affected if Descartes had proved above what he
assumes here, namely, that every extended substance is a body.1s
On Article 20. The author's attack on atoms does not seem to be satisfactory.
Those who defend them will admit that they can be divided in our thinking as well as
by divine power. But the question which (to my amazement) Descartes does not even
touch on here is whether bodies which have a firmness which natural forces cannot
overcome (this is, according to them, the true concept of atoms) can exist naturally at
all. Yet he declares here that he has destroyed the atoms and assumes it in the whole
further course of his work. We shall say more about atoms below, on Article 54. 19
On Articles 21, 22, and 23. That the world has no limits in extension and hence can
be only one and that the whole of matter is everywhere homogeneous and therefore
can be differentiated only through its motions and shapes - these are opinions which
are here built upon the proposition that the extended and body are the same, though
this is neither universally admitted nor demonstrated by the author. 20
On Article 25. If motion is nothing but the change of contact or of immediate
vicinity, it follows that we can never define which thing is moved. For just as the same
phenomena may be interpreted by different hypotheses in astronomy, so it will always
be possible to attribute the real motion to either one or the other of the two bodies
which change their mutual vicinity or position. Hence, since one of them is arbitrarily
chosen to be at rest or moving at a given rate in a given line, we may define geome-
trically what motion or rest is to be ascribed to the other, so as to produce the given
phenomena. Hence if there is nothing more in motion than this reciprocal change, it
follows that there is no reason in nature to ascribe motion to one thing rather than
to others. The consequence of this will be that there is no real motion. Thus, in order to
say that something is moving, we will require not only that it change its position with
respect to other things but also that there be within itself a cause of change, a force, an
action. 21
On Article 26. From what has been said in the preceding paragraph it follows that
Descartes's assertion that no more action is required in a body for motion than for
rest cannot be sustained. I admit that force is necessary for a body at rest to maintain
its rest against colliding bodies. But this force is not in the body itself which is at rest,
for the surrounding bodies themselves, opposing each other by their force of motion,
cause the body at rest to preserve its given position. 22
On Article 32. Archimedes was the first author transmitted to us who worked on
the composition of motion, in his treatise on spirals. Kepler, in his Optical paralimpo-
mena, was the first to apply this to an explanation of the equality of the angles of inci-
dence and reflection, by dividing an oblique motion into a perpendicular and a parallel
motion. In this Descartes followed him, as he did also in his Dioptrics. GaIiIeo was the
first to show the fullest use of the composition of motion in physics and mechanic~.23
On Articles 33, 34, 35. What Descartes says here is most beautiful and worthy of
his genius, namely, that every motion in filled space involves circulation and that matter
must somewhere be actually divided into parts smaller than any given quantity. Yet he
does not seem to have weighed sufficiently the importance of this last conclusion.
On Article 36. The most famous proposition of the Cartesians is that the same
quantity of motion is conserved in things. They have given no demonstration of this,
however, for no one can fail to see the weakness of their argument derived from the

constancy of God. For although the constancy of God may be supreme, and he may
change nothing except in accordance with the laws of the series already laid down, we
must still ask what it is, after all, that he has decreed should be conserved in the series -
whether the quantity of motion or something different, such as the quantity of force.
I have proved that it is rather this latter which is conserved, that this is distinct from
the quantity of motion, and that it often happens that the quantity of motion changes
while the quantity of force remains permanent. The arguments by which I have shown
this and defended it against objections may be read elsewhere. 24 But since the matter
is of great importance, I shall give the heart of my conception in a brief example.
Assume two bodies: A with a mass of 4 and a velocity of 1, and B with a mass of 1 and
a velocity of 0, that is, at rest. Now imagine that the entire force of A is transferred to
B, that is, that A is reduced to rest and B alone moves in its place. We ask what velo-
city B must assume. According to the Cartesians, the answer is that B should have a
velocity of 4, since the original quantity of motion and the present quantity would
then be equal, since mass 4 multiplied by velocity 1 is equal to mass 1 multiplied by
velocity 4. Thus the increase in velocity is proportional to the decrease of the quantity
of the body. But in my opinion the answer should be that B, whose mass is 1, wiII
receive the velocity 2, in order to have only as much quantity of power as A, whose
mass is 4 and whose velocity is 1. I shall explain my reason for this as briefly as possible,
lest I appear to have proposed it without any reason. I say, then, that B will have only
as much force as A had previously or that the present and the former force are equal,
a thing which is worth proving. To go deeper, namely, and explain the true method of
computation - which is the duty of any really universal mathematics, though it has
not yet been carried out - it is clear, first of all, that force is doubled, tripled, or qua-
drupled when its simple quantity is repeated twice, three times, or four times, res-
pectively. So two bodies of equal mass and velocity will have twice as much force as
one of them. It does not follow, however, that one body with twice the velocity must
have only twice the force of a body with simple velocity, for even though the degree of
velocity may be doubled, the subject of this velocity is not itself duplicated, as it is
when a body twice as great, or two bodies of the same velocity, are taken in place of
one, so that they completely repeat the one in magnitude as well as motion. Similarly
2 pounds elevated to the height of 1 foot are exactly double in essence and power to
one elevated the same distance, and two elastic bodies stretched equally are double one
of them. But when the two bodies possessing this power are not fully homogeneous
and cannot be compared with each other in this way, or reduced to a common meas-
ure of matter and force. an indirect comparison must be attempted by comparing
their homogeneous effects or causes. Every cause whatever has a force equal to its
total effect, or to the effect which it produces in using up its own force. Therefore,
since the two bodies mentioned above, A with mass 4 and velocity 1, and B with mass
1 and velocity 2, are not exactly comparable, and no one quantity possessing force can
be designated whose simple repetition will produce both, we must examine their
effects. Let us assume, namely, that these two bodies are heavy and that A can change
its direction and rise; then by virtue of its velocity of 1 it will rise to the height of 1 foot,
while B, by virtue of its velocity of 2, will rise 4 feet, as Galileo and others have de-
monstrated. In each case the effect will entirely consume the force and so be equal to
the cause which produces it. But these two effect~ are equal to each other in force or
power, namely, the elevation of body A, 4 pounds, to 1 foot, and the elevation of body
B, 1 pound, to 4 feet. Therefore the causes, too, are equal; that is, the body A of 4
pounds with velocity of 1 is equal in force or power to the body B of 1 pound with
velocity 4, as was asserted. But if someone denies that the same power is needed to
raise 4 pounds 1 foot and 1 pound 4 feet, or that these two effects are equivalent
(though, unless I am mistaken, almost everyone will admit this), he can be convinced
by the same principle. If we take a balance with unequal arms, 4 pounds can be raised
exactly 1 foot by the descent of 1 pound for 4 feet, and no further work can be done;
thus the effect exactly exhausts the power of the cause and is equal to it in force. Let
me summarize, therefore. If the whole power of body A, 4, with a velocity of 1, is
transferred to B, 1, B must receive a velocity of 2; or, what amounts to the same thing,
if B is first at rest and A in motion, but A is then at rest and B has been placed in
motion, other things remaining equal, the velocity of B must be double, since the mass
of A was quadruple. If, as is popularly held, B should receive four times the velocity
of A because it has one-fourth of its mass, we should have perpetual motion or an
effect more powerful than its cause. For when A was moving, it could raise 4 pounds
only 1 foot, or 1 pound 4 feet; but later, when B moved, it would be able to lift 1 pound
16 feet, for altitudes are as the square of the velocities by force of which bodies are
lifted, and four times the velocity will raise a body sixteen times the altitude. With the
aid of B not only could we thus once more raise A for 1 foot, after its descent had given
it its original velocity, but we could do many other things besides and thus exhibit
perpetual motion, since the original force is restored but there is still more left. More-
over, even though the assumption that the whole force of A is transmitted to B
cannot actually be realized, this does not affect the matter, since we are here concerned
with the true calculation, or with the question of how much force B would necessarily
take on according to this hypothesis. Even if a part of the force is retained and only
a part transmitted, the same absurdities would still arise, for if the quantity of motion
is to be conserved, the quantity of forces can obviously not always be conserved, since
the quantity of motion is known to be the product of mass and velocity, while the
quantity of force is, as we have shown, the product of mass and the altitude to which
it can be raised by force of its power, altitudes being proportional to the square of the
velocities of ascent. Meanwhile this rule can be set up: The same quantity of force as
well as of motion is conserved when bodies tend in the same directions both before and
after their collision, as well as when the colliding bodies are equal. 2'
On Articles 37, 38. It is a very true and indubitable law of nature that the same
thing, so far as in it lies, always persists in the same state - a law which both Galileo
and Gassendi, and several others as well, have long held. It is surprising therefore that
it has occurred to some men that a projectile owes the continuation of its motion to the
air but that it has not occurred to them that by this same reasoning we should with
equal right have to look for some new reason for the continued motion of the air
itself. For air could not, as they hold, impel the stone forward unless it itself had the
power to continue its received motion and found itself impeded in this by the resist-
ance of the stone.
On Article 39. Not only did Kepler observe the very beautiful law of nature
according to which bodies describing a circular or curved path strive to leave it in the
line of the tangent straight line (others may have preceded him in this), but he al-
ready made that application of this law which I consider essential in making clear the
cause of gravity. This is apparent from his Epitome of the Copernican Astronomy.26

Descartes has rightly affirmed this law and brilliantly expounded it, but he has not
demon~trated it, as one would have expected of him.
On Articles 40-44. In Articles 37 and 39 Descartes has presented two very true
laws of nature which are clear in their own light. But the third seems to me to be so
far, not merely from truth, but even from probability, that I wonder how it ever occurred
to the mind of such a man. Yet he at once builds his laws of motion and of impact
upon it and says that it contains all the causes of particular changes in bodies. He
conceives it as follows: one body colliding with another stronger one lo~es none of its
motion but merely changes its direction; however, it can receive some additional
motion from the stronger body. But in colliding with a weaker body, it loses only as
much motion as it transfers to the weaker body. In actual fact, however, it is only in the
case ofa collision of bodies moving in opposite directions that a body colliding with
a stronger one loses no motion but either retains or increases its velocity. When a
weaker but swifter body overtakes one that is stronger but slower, then the contrary
occurs, and it is generally true, and can be observed in nature, that the velocity of the
pursuing body is diminished by the impact. For if it continued its motion after the
collision, it could not in any case proceed at its earlier velocity without giving this
velocity to the body ahead as well, in which case the total power in the whole would be
increased. If it came to rest after the collision, it would be clear in itself that its velocity
had been diminished, and indeed destroyed, by the blow. This coming to rest, moreover
occurs in hard 27 bodies (which are here always to be understood) when the ratio of
the excess of mass in the first body over that of the one overtaking it to the mass of the
body overtaken 28 is double the ratio of the velocity of the first body to the one over-
taking it. 29 Finally, if the body is thrown back after the collision, it is again clear that
the motion of the repelled body is less than before. For otherwise the velocity of the
forward body would necessarily be increased by the added impulsion of the body
overtaking it, and whether we think of it as increasing its velocity after its rebound
or merely retaining its earlier velocity, the aggregate of power would be increased,
which is absurd.
If anyone were to defend Descartes by holding that this third law of his on the colli-
sion of bodies must be understood to deal only with the collision of bodies from
opposite directions, I readily agree with it. But then it must be admitted that he has
not provided for the collision of bodies moving in the same direction, though, as we
have already seen, he himself claims that this law covers all particular cases. Also, if
the demonstration which he attempts in Article 41 is correct, it includes all cases of
colliding bodies, whether they move in the same or in opposite directions. But it does
not seem to me to have even the semblance of a proof. I admit that it is correct to
distinguish quantity and direction of motion and that one of these sometimes changes
while the other remains constant. But it is also true that frequently both change to-
gether. In fact, both work together to preserve each other, and a body tends to pre-
serve its determination or direction with its whole force and its whole quantity of
motion. Whatever is taken away from the velocity when the direction remains con-
stant is also lost from the determination, since a body proceeding more slowly in the
same direction is less determined to conserve it. Besides, if a body A collides with a
smaller body B at rest, it will continue in the same direction but with diminished
motion; if it collides with a body B, at rest but equal to itself, it stops, so that, while it
itself remains completely at rest, its motion is transferred to B; and finally, if it collides
with B, which is at rest but greater than it, or is equal to it with an opposite movement,
then A will simply be turned back.30 Hence we can understand that a greater opposing
force is necessary for A to be reflected in a direction opposite its original direction than
for it merely to be brought to rest, a fact which directly contradicts Descartes's pro-
nouncements. For the opposition must be greater, since the thing opposed is greater,
or since the tendency opposing it is greater. But I hold his proposition that motion
perseveres as a simple state until it is destroyed by an external cause, to be true not
only for the quantity of motion but for its determination also. This determination of a
moving body, or its tendency to advance, itself has its own quantity which is more
easily diminished than reduced to nothing or to rest and can furthermore be more
easily destroyed or reduced to rest than changed into a contrary or regressive motion,
as we have just pointed out. Thus, even though one motion is not opposed to another
in kind, the present motion opposes the present motion of a body which collides with
it, and one advance opposes another contrary advance, since a smaller change and a
smaller opposition are necessary, as we have shown, to diminish an advance than to
destroy it entirely or to transform it into a retreat. So it seems to me that Descartes's
reasoning is like trying to argue that when two bodies oppose each other, they ought
never to break or fall apart but to bend each other so that their shapes are molded to
each other, on the ground that matter is distinct from shape and that in this case matter
is not opposed to matter, but shape to shape, and the quantity of matter can be con-
served in the body while its shape is changed. Whence it would follow that the mag-
nitude of a body can never change and that only the shape of the body can change. If
Descartes had taken into consideration that every body which collides with another
must, before it is repelled, first reduce its advance, then come to a stop, and only then
be turned back, and must thus pass from one direction to the opposite, not by a leap
but by degrees, he would have set up other rules of motion for us. We must recognize
that, no matter how hard, every body is nevertheless flexible and elastic to some
degree; like a ball inflated with air which gives way a little when it falls to the floor or is
struck with a stone, until the impetus or advance of what strikes it is gradually broken
and at last completely stopped, after which the ball resumes its shape and repels the
stone, which now no longer resists, or until it rebounds by itself from the floor to
which it had fallen. Experiments have taught us convincingly that something similar
to this takes place in every rebound, even if the bending and restoration are not
visible. But being too confident of posterity, Descartes in his letters very super-
ciliously condemned this explanation of reflection by elastic force, which was first
noted by Hobbes. 31 We do not need to examine anew the reasoning by which he tries,
in Article 42, to demonstrate the last part of this law of nature which he wants to
promulgate - the part, namely, which holds that whatever quantity of motion is lost to
one colliding body is added to the other. For this assumes that the quantity of motion
must remain constant, and we have already shown in Article 36 how great an error
this is.
On Article 45. Before I turn to an examination of the special rules of motion given
by the author, I shall set up a general criterion or touchstone, as it were, by which they
can be examined. I usually call this the law of continuity. I have already explained
this principle elsewhere, but it must be repeated and amplified here. 32 When two
hypothetical conditions or two different data continuously approach each other until
the one at last passes into the other, then the results sought for must also approach each

other continuously until one at last passes over into the other, and vice versa. For
example, if one focus of an ellipse remains fixed and the other recedes farther and
farther away from it, while the latus rectum remains constant, the new ellipses which
thus come into being continuously approach a parabola and finally pass over into it
completely, namely, when the distance of the receding focus becomes immense. There-
fore the properties of these ellipses must also approach more and more the properties
of a parabola until at last they pass over into them, and the parabola can be considered
as an ellipse whose second focus is infinitely distant. All the properties of an ellipse in
general will thus be found in the parabola considered as such an ellipse. Geometry is
full of examples of this kind, but nature, whose most wise Author uses the most
perfect geometry, observes the same rule; otherwise it could not follow any orderly
progress. Thus gradually decreasing motion finally disappears in rest, and gradually
diminishing inequality passes into exact equality, so that rest can be considered as
infinitely small motion or as infinite slowness, and equality as infinitely small in-
equality. Whatever is demonstrated about motion in general, or about inequality in
general, must for this reason also be verifiable about rest or equality, if this inter-
pretation is right. So the rules for rest or equality can in a sense be considered as
special cases of the rules for motion or inequality. If this cannot be done, we may be
certain that the proposed rules are inconsistent or wrongly conceived. Hence we shall
also show, in Article 53, that to the continuous curve which represents the variations of
the hypothetical conditions there must correspond a continuous curve representing
the variations of the results but that the Cartesian rules of motion present these results
by a figure which is absurd and incoherent.
On Article 46. Let us now examine the Cartesian rules of motion. We must under-
stand the bodies involved to be hard and unimpeded by other conditions.
Rule 1. If two equal bodies Band C, with equal velocities, collide directly, both will be
deflected with the velocities of their approach.
This first rule is the only one of Descartes that is entirely true. It can be demonstrated
in this way: since the properties of both bodies are equal, either both will continue in
their motion and so penetrate each other, which is absurd; or both will come to rest,
in which case power will be lost; or both wiIl be repelled, and with their original
velocity, because, if the velocity\ of one is diminished, the velocity of the other mu~t
also be diminished, because of the equality of their properties. But if the velocity 9f
both is diminished, the whole will be diminished, which is impossible.
On Article 47. Rule 2. If Band C collide with equal velocities, but B is the greater, then
only C is deflected, and B continues; both with their earlier velocities, and so both moving in
the original direction of B.
This rule is false and conflicts with the preceding one, as is clear from the criterion we
have just set up. For if the inequality, or the excess of B over C, is gradually diminished
until it passes into full equality, the effects of inequality should also pass over conti-
nuously into the effects of equality. So if we assume that B, striking C, overcomes it
with so excessive a force that it continues to advance after the collision, it wiIl be
necessary, if B is gradually diminished, for its advance also to diminish continuously
until, when a certain ratio is reached between Band C, B will at length come to rest
and then, by a continuous diminution, be turned into con trary motion; this will
gradually increase until finally, when all inequality between Band C is removed, the
motions end in the rule for equality, in which the regressive motion of each body after
collision is equal to its progressive motion before collision, as the first rule states.
So this second rule of Descartes cannot stand, for however much we diminish B so
that it approaches the magnitude of C, even to the point at which the difference
between the two becomes inexplicably small, the consequences which correspond to
these two cases of inequality and equality will still remain very' great, if we may be-
lieve him, and will not gradually approach each other, since B will always continue in
the same direction at the same velocity, no matter how small the difference between it
and C may become. The result is that this irregularity must finally be corrected all
at once, so to speak, ~nd a great gap must be introduced in the results to correspond
with a very small change in the conditions. At the point, that is, where the excess of
B over C finally disappears completely, and the very small differenCe between them
is further decreased, the motion must pass over from a definite progression to a definite
regression, with all the intervening degrees omitted in a single leap, as it were. The
result will be that two instances which have an infinitely small variation in the hypo-
theses or given conditions (that is, a difference smaller than any given amount) will
nevertheless have the greatest and mdst noticeable difference in their results, so that it
must be in the very last moment only that the two bodies both begin and end their
mutual approach and that they both approach each other and break apart in the
moment that they coincide, which is absurd. It would follow that the rule for equal
bodies or for bodies with infinitely small inequality could not be subsumed under the
general rule for inequality. So since two bodies Band C, equal and with equal velo-
cities, are both reflected with their precious velocity when they collide with each other
(by Rule 1), it follows necessarily that in the case when B is somewhat increased or,
B remaining constant, C is diminished, some change must occur in the consequences
and something must be added to the t;esult which would still be present when C is
diminished as much as possible, that is, removed entirely. But when C is decreased and
becomes less than B, we can move from the case of complete equality, or of the total
reflection of B, to the case of the greatest inequality, or the complete removal of C and
the unimpeded progress of B, only by gradually diminishing the reflection of B itself.
Then as we gradually increase the difference between Band C, there will be a point at
which B will not be reflected at all but will be caught halfway between regression and
advance, as it were. If the difference is further increased, B will continue to advance in
its former direction, though its magnitude can never be increased continuously to such
a point that its velocity of advance will not be retarded by collision with a body
moving in the opposite direction, until its ratio to C becomes infinite, that is, until C
completely disappears or is removed. This is the true manner of motion of bodies
which are unequal but collide with equal velocities; it is in every respect consistent
with reason and with itself. This is not the place, however, to determine the quantity
of the resulting velocities; that is a matter needing further examination, to which I have
given special treatment elsewhere.
On Article 48. Rule 3. If Band C are equal and collide with unequal and opposite motions,
then the more rapid body B carries with itself the slower body C, and half of the difference of
their velocities subtracted from the velocity of B is added to the velocity of C, so that they move
together with equal velocities.

This rule is no less false than the preceding one and conflicts with reason no less than
with experience. For to apply our criterion, let the more rapid body B carry the slower
one with it in the way described, by hypothesis, and let the velocity of B decrease con-
tinuously until the two become equal or what amounts to the same thing, until the
excess of B's velocity over C's becomes incomparably small. Then both are carried
along at the velocity of B itself, diminished by no assignable quantity. But this is
absurd and contrary to the first rule, which asserts, correctly, that in the case of perfect
equality, both of magnitude and of velocity, both are reflected at their own velocity or
at least at velocities differing from them by no assignable quantity. And it is impossible
for the result of a disappearing inequality not to vanish into the result of equality.
On Article 49. Rule 4. If B is less than C, and B moves while C is at rest, B will be reflected
with the velocity of its approach, but C will remain at rest.
This rule is true to this extent - that a smaller body is always deflected by a greater one
at rest, though not with the velocity of its approach. For the more the excess of C 33 is
decreased, the more the repulsion is decreased, until we reach the case of equality dealt
with in Rule 6. It is absurd for the given conditions gradually to approach the case of
the equality of the two bodies while the results do not approach this case but remain
constant until at last they pass over into the case of equal bodies at one blow, as it were,
or by a leap. One can easily understand, too, that it is far from reasonable for the given
conditions to vary continuously while the results vary not at all, since the result ought
rather to vary in all things in the same way as do the conditions, except in determinate
cases where several distinct variables compensate for each other.
On Article 50. Rule 5. If B is greater than C, and B moves but C remains at rest, then B
continues, and both are carried along at the same velocity and with the previous quantity
of motion.
This rule too is erroneous, for it errs in fixing the true quantity of the velocity of each
body, since it assumes that both advance together after the collision; but this can
never happen in the collision of hard bodies. The rule is right in asserting that every
larger body which strikes one at rest continues after the collision. But that the two
bodies cannot move together in this case is also clear from our criterion. For the case
in which B is very little larger than C, and the case in which C is very little larger than
B, can be considered to approach each other by an incomparably small difference. So
it is impossible that their results should differ so greatly that in the former case they
should move together in the direction of B. but in the latter case B should be repelled
in the contrary direction with its whole velocity.
On Article 51. Rule 6. If Band C are equal but B moves and C remains at rest, then B is
reflected at three-fourths of its velocity of approach, and C will move in the former direction
of B at the remaining one-fourth of the velocity.
Thus our author; I am not sure that anything more foreign to reason could have been
thought up in this matter. It is beyond understanding how such a thing could have
occurred to the mind of this distinguished man. But we shall let the Cartesians look for
the reason for their master's remarks; it will suffice for us to show the inconsistency of
his rules. If Band C are equal and collide with equal velocities, then both are reflected
at the velocity of their approach, by Rule 1. Now if the velocity of C be diminished
continuously, while that of B remains constant, B will have to be reflected less and C
more than before, since the quantity taken from the velocity of one equal body is added
to the other. Now let the velocity of C disappear, or let it come to rest; we ask how
much velocity is to be subtracted from the deflected B. This rule of Descartes affirms
that only a fourth is to be subtracted. But let us continue by diminishing the magnitude
of C at rest a little; then, by the preceding rule, B will continue its motion. Through
a very small change in the conditions, therefore, there results a huge change in the
consequences, or a leap occurs. For when C is at rest and equal to B, the velocity of
reflection of B is great, namely, three-fourths of its original velocity, but when Cis
diminished a very little, the reflection of B is suddenly destroyed entirely; indeed, it is
further converted into its contrary, that is, into advance. All the intervening cases are
passed over in a leap, which is absurd. We must therefore say that when Band Care
equal and C is at rest prior to collision, B is at rest after the collision, and its entire
velocity is transferred to C. This can also be inferred from what is true in Rules 4 and 5.
For by Rule 4, B is reflected when it collides with a greater body C, which is at rest.
Further, by Rule 5, B continues in its course when it collides with a smaller body C,
which is at rest. Therefore when B coJIides with a body C at rest which is equal to
itself, it neither continues nor is reflected but (what is between these two) comes to
rest, and its whole force is transferred to C.
On Article 52. Rule 7. If Band C move in the same direction, with B in the rear moving the
more rapidly, and C ahead but more slowly, and C is the greater, but the ratio of C to B is less
than the ratio of the velocity of B to that of C, then both will advance together in their earlier
direction after collision and with a velocity which will make the quantity of motion the same
as it was before collision. But if C remains the greater but the ratio of C to B is greater than
that of the velocity of B to that of C, B will be reflected with its velocity of approach, and C
will continue with its former velocity.
Thus our author. But it is easily seen that these rules are inconsistent, for we have
observed, not far back, that rigid bodies such as are assumed here never proceed
together after collision, as is held to occur in the earlier part of this rule. Nothing is
more unreasonable than what is claimed in the latter part - that the body B, in acting
on C, changes nothing in C and yet itself suffers many things from the collision. If I am
not mistaken, these views conflict with the natural metaphysics (if I may caJI it so)
which the light of reason gives us. There are also other contradictions with earlier
rules, for when C is greater by an infinitely small amount, that is, when it is equal to B,
and precedes it by an infinitely small velocity, that is, when it remains at rest, the for-
mer part of this seventh rule applies, which holds that they would move together; yet,
according to the sixth rule, B is reduced to rest and its whole force is transferred to C,
which was formerly at rest and equal to it. In the interest of brevity I shall pass over
other points no less inconsistent. But I must warn, finally, that the author has disre-
garded the intermediate case when the ratio of the two bodies is the reciprocal of the
ratio of their velocities, and it is not clear what should be said by virtue of his rule in
this case. There must indeed be some consequence in this middle case, which should
certainly fall within the limits of one or the other earlier case. But though the former
and latter cases have a common limit in terms ofthe hypotheses, they have none in terms of
the consequences, and this again conflicts with our criterion. The case in which B is
greater than C is also disregarded. Rule 8 should then have followed, in which the

author should have explained what happens when two unequal bodies with unequal
velocities moving in opposite directions collide. A distinction would also have to be
made between centric and eccentric collisions and between perpendicular and oblique
collisions. But we must put an end to this investigation and no longer expatiate upon
this discredited and deplorable doctrine.
On Article 53. Descartes acknowledges that it is difficult to use his rules, because,
namely, he sees that they completely conflict with experience. But in the true rules of
motion there is a remarkable agreement between reason and experience, nor do dis-
crepancies impede the success of the true rules as much as he seems to fear, since he
had exceptions already prepared to escape these discrepancies. The greater bodies are
in hardness and size, on the contrary, the more accurately the rules are supported by
observation. We shall see shortly what the hardness or liquidity of bodies involves;
here it seems desirable to show by means of a figure, for easier comprehension, how,
by means of our criterion, the truth in these matters can be outlined in advance, as it
were, or as a kind of prelude, even before we have succeeded in a perfect delineation of
it. This is most useful, both in detecting errors and in approximating the truth. 34
Let us assume, therefore, that Band C are equal in mass, and let the velocity and
direction of B be represented by the straight line BW, so that it moves from B to W
with a velocity proportional to BW. Let the velocity and direction of C, which will
vary for different cases, be AH, so that in the case of AHI or AHz (below A) the direc-
tion of C will be the same as that of B, and in the case of AHI (which is equal to BW)
the velocities of both are equal and their directions the same. But when H is taken
nearer to A, as in H2, the direction of C from A to H2 will still be the same as that of
B (from B to W), but its true velocity will be less than that of B, because AH2 is less
than BW; so, if C precedes, it will be struck by B following it. When H coincides with
A (or H 3), the direction and velocity of C are nothing, and C is at rest. But when His
taken above A, as in H 4 , H" and H 6 , the direction of C is contrary to that of B. Now
let the lines PP and QQ be drawn so that HP is always the velocity and direction of B,
and HQ the direction and velocity of C, after the collision, observing that the direction
of either one after the blow, which is the same as that of B before the blow, is repre-
sented toward the left, and a resulting direction contrary to this is represented toward
the right. Now let us determine a certain point on the lines PP and QQ. The direction
and velocity or in a word, the motion of B before collision, are always BW; now if the
motion of C before collision is equal to it and in the same direction, namely, AHI
(which equals BW), then if no contact hinders, it is certainly true that both Band C
will retain their earlier velocities and directions. So the straight lines HlPl and
HI QI representing the motion of Band C after collision will be equal to AHI and
BWand to the left. But if the motion of C before collision is nothing, or AH3 (the
point H3 falling on A), or if C is at rest, then what happens is also clear; namely, the
body B will be at rest after collision, and the point P3 will also fall on A, but C will
take on the velocity and direction which B had; therefore, H3Q3 will be equal to BW
and to the left, so that the points P 3 and Q3 will be occupied. Finally, if the motion of
C is equal to the motion of B but in a contrary direction, or is represented by AHs,
equal to BW but with Hs taken above A (that is, if the two bodies, equal by hypo-
thesis, are assumed to strike with equal velocities from opposite directions), then the
outcome is also clear, for each will be reflected with the velocity of its approach, so
that the points Ps and Qs will be given; HsPs will be equal to BW but to the right,
IANOVER TO THE DEATH OF ERNEST AUGUST, 1690-98 403
since B is reflected or moved in a direction contrary to its original one, and HsQs will
be equal to the same thing but to the left, because C assumes the direction which B
had taken. So we have as many points PI, P3, Ps, falling in a straight line (this is note-
worthy) as there are points QI, Q3, Qs, falling in another straight line parallel to the
line AH: the remaining points, such as Pz, P4, P 6, etc., and Qz, Q4, Q6, etc., cannot
be determined by our criterion alone, of course, or from the law of continuity, for these
alone do not establish what the lines PP and QQ will be. It is enough that all of them
are connected in one continuous line which is their locus by our criterion. Thus all
these incoherent rules are already excluded in advance of a full understanding of the
matter or of the discovery of the kind of line involved. Meanwhile we actually know,
from another source, that the lines PP and QQ are truly straight and that, because of
the permutation of velocity and direction in equal bodies, HP is always equal to AH,
and HQ to LM, so that HQ as well as LM can be thought of as signifying motion
together in the same direction. For the rest, I do not extend HI, PI, and Ql further
down, because then B moves more slowly than C and so does not reach it, and no
collision occurs. In the case in which bodies are assumed to have equal velocities, but
one body is kept constant in magnitude while the other varies, a figure can be made in
the same way to show the consequences of collision upon both bodies in two lines; in-
deed, a similar figure can be sketched for any hypothesis whatever, providing that the
terms are kept constant except for one variable. But it will suffice to have given a samp-
le for one case, especially since everything which we have merely outlined can be
understood perfectly by another method - though we can show that this procedure
nonetheless has its use in refuting errors. Even if the entire doctrine were not yet dis-
covered, this would lead to a kind of outline of it. From the Cartesian rules no conti-
nuous line whatever can be derived for the results which correspond to the continuous
line representing the variable data; on the contrary, a figure is produced which is most
erratic and contrary to our criterion in Article 45, or to the law of continuity. If our line
is compared with the Cartesian one in the figure, the inconsistency, or rather the im-
possibility, of his rules will be apparent to the eye.
On Articles 54, 55. I do not believe it to be entirely true, though there is some truth
in it, that bodies are flUid if their particles are agitated by various motions in all
directions; that they are hard if their adjacent parts are mutually at rest in relation to
each other; and that matter is not held together by any other glue than the quiescence
of one part in relation to another. Descartes infers therefore that hardness, or as I
prefer to call it more generally, firmness (some of which there is even in soft bodies),
arises from rest alone, because the glue or the cause of cohesion cannot be a body (for
then the problem would repeat itself), and so it must be a mode of a body. But, he
reasons further, rest is the only mode of a body which is fitting to explain this matter.
Why so? Because rest is most contrary to motion. I marvel that so important a matter
should be decided with so trifling and perfunctory, indeed, so sophistic a reason. The
syllogism would be:
Rest is that mode of body which is most contrary to motion.
But that mode of body which is most contrary to motion is the cause
of firmness.
Therefore rest is the cause of firmness.
But both premises are false, though each makes some tenuous display of truth. It

happens too often in Descartes that by assuming the most uncertain matters to be
certain, he dismisses the careless reader by his dictatorial brevity; as when he con-
cludes that extension constitutes matter, that thought is independent of matter, and
that the same quantity of motion is conserved in nature - pronouncements based on
authority rather than arguments. I am of the opinion that motion in the opposite di-
rection is more contrary to motion than is rest and that a greater opposing force is
required to reflect a body than merely to bring it to rest, as I have shown in Article 47.
But the other premise would also have to be proved, namely, that what is most oppo-
sed to motion is the cause of firmness. Did the author by chance have in mind the
following prosyllogism?
Firmness is most opposed to motion.
The cause of whatever is most opposed to motion is itself most opposed
to motion.
Therefore the cause of firmness is most opposed to motion.
But the premises of this pro syllogism are again both defective. Thus I deny that firm-
ness is most opposed to motion; I admit that it is most opposed to the motion of one
part without another, and it is the cause of this that he should have sought. Nor do I
have any confidence in the axiom that the cause of whatever is opposed to a thing is
itself also opposed to that thing. What is more opposed to death than life, but who
would deny that death very often comes to an animal from a living being. No demon-
stration can be based upon such philosophical rules, which are entirely vague and not
yet reduced to their proper limits.
There will be some who read this who will be offended at us for reducing such great
philosophers to the limitations of Scholasticism by putting them in syllogisms; there
will perhaps also be those who will condemn this as too trivial. But we have learned
that these great philosophers, and indeed, often other men too, stumble on the most
serious matters through neglect of this childish logic; in fact, they scarcely ever make
mistakes in any other way. For what else does this logic contain than the most general
dictates of supreme reason, expressed in rules that are easy to understand? It has
seemed desirable to use this example, to show, for once, how useful such rules are for
putting an argument into the prescribed form, so that the force of the argument may
become apparent, especially in problems where the imagination does not come to the
aid of reason as it does in mathematics, and where we are dealing with an author who
puts great matters into precipitate arguments. Since Descartes does not help us with
reasons in this problem, therefore, we must return to a consideration of the matters
themselves.
In firmness, then, we must consider not so much rest as the force by which one part
draws another along with it. Let two perfect cubes, A and B, be joined together and at
rest with respect to each other, with their surfaces perfectly polished, and let cube B
be placed to the left of cube A, with a surface of one congruent to a surface of the other,
without any intervening space. Now let a small ball C strike the middle of cube A, in a
direction parallel to the two congruent surfaces (Figure 27). Then the direction of the
blow will not reach cube B unless it is assumed to adhere to cube A. Of course A
resists the colliding body C by its rest and cannot be moved by it without diminishing
the force of C, and so it is also true that in this case A by its rest resists being separated
from B. But this is per aCCidens, not because it is unconnected with B, but because it
has to absorb the force of the blow itself, just as it would if B were entirely absent. So,
once it has received this force, it will begin its own path, abandoning B just as if B
were entirely absent from its vicinity. It is therefore a sophism to try to conclude that
because each thing perseveres in its own state as much as possible, it follows that two
bodies at rest in relation to each other will mutually adhere and will have firmness
from their mere state of rest. You might conclude with as much right that two bodies
10 feet apart are connected together and will strive to act so that they will always be
10 feet apart. A cause must therefore be found why two cubes A and B cohere some-
times and form a firm parallelopiped AB which moves as a whole when only the part A
B A
Fig. 27.
is impelled; or a cause must be found why the cube A, when moved, draws the cube B
with it. Thus we seek the cause of traction in nature. There are, it is true, learned men
who affirm that perfect unity is itself the cause of firmness, and it seems that this
opinion satisfies some advocates of atoms. For if the parallelopiped is taken as an
atom which is conceptually divisible into two cubes A and B, but is not really so
divisible, they say that the parallelopiped is also actually indivisible and will remain
firm always. Many objections may be made to this; first of all, they offer no demonstra-
tion of their position. Let us assume that two atoms, D and E, which correspond to the
cubes A and B with their anterior surfaces, strike simultaneously against the parallelo-
piped AB in directions parallel to the common surface of A and B, but with D coming
from the back, from the direction of F, with its whole surface striking the entire con-
gruent surface of A, and with E similarly coming from in front, in the direction from G,
and striking B (Figure 28). We seek a cause for A not leaving B and being propelled
toward G, and for B not leaving A and being propelled toward F. I find no reason for
this in the atomists' doctrine. For what else is there in the statement that a unity is
composed of the two cubes A and B than that they are not actually divided? But if you
hold, as do certain thinkers, that there are no parts in the continuum before actual

B A
Fig. 28.
division, it follows either that this does not prevent separation, namely, when a further
reason is added which tends to produce an actual division, and so determines and
distinguishes the parts as it were (the reason being the impact of the bodies D and E), or
that no continuum can ever be broken into parts. Suppose then that two cubical
atoms A and B, formerly distinct, approach each other so that two of their surfaces
coincide; will there, at the moment of contact, be no difference at all between them and
the atomic parallelopiped described above? Then two atoms would be held by each
other through simple contact as if by some kind of glue, and the same thing would
happen even if only parts of their surfaces touched. By a natural progression it would
further follow from this that atoms would continuously increase like snowballs rolled
through the snow, and the outcome, finally, would be that everything would coalesce
into a more than adamantine hardness, and congeal into eternal ice, since the cause
of coalescence would subsist, but not that of dissolution. For those who hold these
views there remains one escape - to say that there are no plane surfaces in nature, or
that if there are any, they disappear in coalescence, but that all atoms terminate in
curved surfaces, and these with the smallest possible areas of contact, as the case would
be, for example, if all atoms were spherical, so that there would be no contact of any
entire surfaces. But aside from the point that no adequate reason is given for excluding
bodies with plane surfaces, or with other congruent surfaces, we again ,ask them to
give us a reason why a continuum cannot be resolved into parts.
We have other strong arguments against atoms but do not propose to exhaust that
matter here. There are those who explain the hardness of bodies by the same cause by
which we see that two polished boards cannot be broken apart except with great force,
the surrounding matter finding it impossible to penetrate so suddenly into the place to
be relinquished by a separation ofthe boards. So they say that hardness arises from com-
pression, which is right in most cases, but cannot be understood as a universal cause of
hardness, because it again presupposes some hardness or firmness already to exist -
that of the boards themselves. It is likewise irrelevant to say that the two cubes A and B
are connected by some kind of glue, for some firmness is necessary in the glue itself by
which its parts adhere both to each other and to the two bodies which they connect.
But if anyone thinks that some kind of little projections pass over into B from A, pene-
trating into its small cavities, and also to A from B, and that this is the reason why the
one cannot be moved without the other unless these points are broken, a new ques-
tion arises: Whence the firmness of these points?
To pass over these theories, therefore, which either do not advance or do not solve
the problem, I believe that the primary cause of cohesion is movement, namely, con-
current movement. (Evidently one must add impenetrability itself, when there is no
place into which to give way, or when there is no reason for one body to give way rather
than another; thus a perfect sphere which rotates in a uniform plenum at rest is pre-
vented from throwing anything off by centrifugal force.) I believe that matter itself,
which is homogeneous and equally divisible throughout, is differentiated. by motion
alone. We see that even fluids acquire a certain firmness when in motion. Thus a vigo-
rous jet of water will prevent anything from breaking into its own path from without
with more force than the same water at rest. For the irruption of new matter necessa-
rily creates a strong disturbance in the co-ordinated motion, and force is necessary to
produce this disturbance or to change the motion so greatly. If you touch a jet of
water with your finger, you will see the little drops scatter in all directions with some
violence, and you will also feel your finger repelled on entering the jet. We learn from
the magnet, in an elegant experiment, that things which in themselves are separate and,
so to speak, sand without lime, can acquire some firmness by motion alone. When
iron filings are placed near a magnet, they suddenly become connected like a rope and
form filaments, and the matter arranges itself in rows. It is no doubt also by some kind
of magnetism, that is, by an internal co-ordinated motion, that other parts of certain
bodies are linked together. This primary cause of consistency or cohesion therefore
satisfies reason no less than the senses.
On Articles 56, 57. It is unnecessary to investigate the cause of fluidity, for matter is
itself fluid except insofar as there are motions within it which are disturbed by the
separation of certain parts. So it is not necessary for a fluid to be agitated by the varied
motions of its particles. But since it is established on other grounds, by a general law
of nature, that all bodies are agitated by internal motions, the conclusion is that bodies
are firm insofar as these motions are concurrent, but remain fluid insofar as the
motions are perturbed and not connected by any system. The result is that every
body contains some degree of fluidity and some of firmness alike and that no body
is so hard as not to have some flexibility, and the converse. Furthermore, this internal
motion is insensible, since the parts which succeed each other continuously are not

discernible by sense because of their smallness and similarity; moving rapidly, like
a jet of water or the spokes of a wheel, they simulate one continuous solid. The inter-
nal motion of fluids is also confirmed by solutions of salt in water and by the corrosions
which are made by acids and, indeed, also by heat in general. For when heat is great,
it causes liquids to boil, when it is only moderate it produces only an agitation, but
when the agitation arising from heat is weakened, as it is in winter, then the perma-
nent internal motion of the parts of matter acting in harmony alone predominates in
most liquids; hence they harden and sometimes freeze solid. Another crude example
of this strangely perturbed agitation of fluids is offered in the dust particles revealed
by the sun's rays in an otherwise dark place. Moreover, since the fluids which seem
according to our sense perception to be at rest are really in equally unhindered motion
everywhere, and in all directions, it follows that their perturbed motion is so equally
distributed and compensated for within them, as it were, that when a solid is placed
in such a fluid, it is assailed so equally on all sides by the blows and surges of the fluid
that it is neither aided nor hindered in its own motion.
On Article 59. When a body is impelled by an external force in a fluid, the author
thinks that this force, though in itself not enough to move the body, nevertheless does
move it by concurring with particles of the fluid which support this motion and deter-
mines the remaining particles also to support it by retaining their own motion but
changing its detennination or direction. Add to this what the author says at the end
of Article 56, and in his demonstration in Article 57. Hence he asserts that a hard body
moving in a fluid does not obtain its whole motion from the hard body which impels it
but also partly from the surrounding fluid. But soon he himself seems to demolish this
in Article 60. In general, I believe that his remarks are to no purpose, because they rest
upon a false principle (since he again speaks here as if rest were contrary to motion)
and because they seem to have been thought up only to save the contradiction which
phenomena show to the fourth rule of motion, in which our author has wrongly denied
that a body at rest can be set in motion by a smaller one acting with any amount of ve-
locity whatever (see the end of Article 61), whereas he himself was nevertheless forced
to admit, in Article 56, that a hard body in a fluid is moved by the smallest force. So he
makes use of this amazing comment to escape the difficulty and calls upon the par-
ticles of the fluid to help, but in vain, for since their motions from contrary directions
compensate each other, they are of no avail. For if they had any effect, it would be too
great and would give the movable object a motion greater than it can receive from the
impelling force.
It is evident, however, that such a greater motion does not arise, and hence the
movable body receives no more motion than if the fluid had not acted at all. Indeed, we
must rather affirm the contrary - that far from motion being added by the fluid, some is
rather subtracted by it, and the velocity of the moving body is diminished, partly
because of the effect of a certain resistance but partly also from the mere fact that
when a hard body enters into a fluid, a part of the fluid equal to the volume of the body
must continually be displaced and excited to new motion, and a certain part of the
moving power must be expended to do this. I have elsewhere reduced the quantity of
both kinds of resistance to calculation; one part of it is absolute and always the same
in the same fluid, the other is relative and increases with the velocity of motion. 3S
On Article 63. Amazing are the considerations introduced here about the reason
why our hands cannot break an iron nail. He finds a difficulty where there is none, and
his answer is well adapted to hi~ twisted objection. Certainly, if a resting body can be
moved by a greater one, we may well ask why the hand cannot move a part of an iron
nail much smaller than itself and admittedly at rest, and why it cannot tear it away
from the rest of the nail. He attributes the cause to the softness of the hand, which
therefore does not act upon the nail as a whole, but only with a part - and a part of the
hand which is always smaller than the part of the nail to be broken off. Surely this is
not a question of motion, for the hand easily moves not merely a part of the nail but
the whole nail. It must rather be asked why a part of the nail draws the rest with it, and
one part does not easily allow itself to be moved without the rest. Furthermore, it is
useless to fall back on the softness of the hand, for even if we assume a blow by a piece
of iron or stone, however large, in place of the hand, the parts of the nail will still cling
together. Granted that a hard body is broken more easily by another hard one than
by a soft one, we must nevertheless ask, not why or by what force the cohesion of two
parts of a nail will be overcome, but why it exists. We must ask, not why one of them is
moved by some greater body (for this is false), but why it is not easily moved alone.
On Article 64. The author closes his second part, which is a general part dealing
with the principles of material things, with an observation which seems to me to need
some restriction. He says, namely, that no other principles are necessary for the expla-
nation of natural phenomena than those taken from abstract mathematics, or from
the doctrine of size, figure, and motion, and that he recognizes no other matter than
that which is the subject of geometry. I fully agree that all the particular phenomena
of nature can be explained mechanically if we explore them enough and that we cannot
understand the causes of material things on any other basis. But I hold, nevertheless,
that we must also consider how these mechanical principles and general laws of nature
themselves arise from higher principles and cannot be explained by quantitative and
geometrical considerations alone; that there is rather something metaphysical in them,
which is independent of the concepts which imagination offers, and which is to be
referred to a substance devoid of extension. For in addition to extension and its
variations, there is in matter a force or a power of action by which the transition is
made from metaphysics to nature 36 and from material to immaterial things. This force
has its own laws, which are derived from the principles not merely of absolute and, so
to speak, brute necessity, as in mathematics, but from those of perfect reason.
Once these matters have been established in a general treatment, we may afterward,
in accounting for natural phenomena, explain everything mechanistically, and it is as
vain here to introduce the perceptions and appetites of an Archeus, operative ideas,
substantial forms, and even minds, as it is to call upon a universal cause of ail things, a
deus ex machina, to move individual natural things by his simple will, as I recall the
author of the Philosophia mosaica does by means of a fallacious interpretation of the
words of Sacred Scripture. 37 Whoever considers these matters honestly will hold to
the middle way in philosophy and do justice to theology as well as to physics. He will
understand that the Scholastics sinned of old, not so much in holding to indivisible
forms, as in applying them where they ought rather to have sought the modifications
and instrumentalities of substance and its mode of action, that is, mechanism. Nature
has, as it were, an empire within an empire, a double kingdom, so to speak, of reason
and necessity, or of forms and of the particles of matter, for just as all things are full
of souls, they are also full of organic bodies. These kingdoms are governed, each by its
own law, with no confusion between them, and the cause of perception and appetite

410 LEIBNIZ: PHILOSOPHICAL LETTERS AND PAPERS
is no more to be sought in the modes of extension than is the cause of nutrition and
of the other organic functions to be sought in the forms or souls. But that highest
substance which is the universal cause of all brings it about, by its infinite wisdom and
power, that two very different series in the same corporeal substance respond to each
other and perfectly harmonize with each other, just as if one were ruled by the in-
fluence of the other. And if you observe the necessity of matter and the order of efficient
causality, you will notice that nothing happens without a cause which satisfies our
imagination, nothing which lies beyond the mathematical laws of mechanism; but if
you contemplate the golden chain of ends and the circle offorms as an intelligible world,
you will find that since the apex of metaphysics and that of ethics are united in one by
reason of the perfections of their supreme author, nothing hapPl1ns without the
highest reason. For the same God is the supreme form and the first efficient cause and
the end or ultimate reason of the universe. But it is our part to revere his traces in nature
and to meditate not merely upon his instruments in operating and the mechanical
efficiency of material things but also upon the more sublime uses of his admirable
craftsmanship; to know God, not merely as the architect of bodies, but above all as
the king of minds, whose intelligence orders all things for the best and constitutes the
universe as the most perfect state under the dominion of the most powerful and most
wise Monarch. By thus combining both types of interpretation, we shall serve, in the
consideration of the individual phenomena of nature, both our welfare in life and our
perfection of mind, and wisdom no less than piety.
REFERENCES
1 Euclid's definition of a straight line is given on p. 247, note 5. For Leibniz's criticism of
Euclid and his own definition see No. 27, II, p. 258, notes 8 and 10. See also the New Essays,
Book IV, 12,4.
2 This passage, somewhat anticipatory of Kant, involves the criteria for the reality of pheno-
mena stated in No. 39. It can be reconciled with the monadology only when it is remembered
that the rational principles upon which phenomena are well founded are themselves the
metaphysical basis for God's creation of individuals.
3 Conscientia. The term is obviously used here in the sense of intellect or understanding.
4 The allusion is to Descartes's vicious circle in validating our general principles by a reference
to God's moral nature.
5 See p. 234, note 5.
6 The first draft contained an example which was later deleted. "For example, assume a
definitum A whose definition is 'an absolutely necessary beast.' A is shown to exist in this way:
whatever is absolutely necessary exists, by an indubitable axiom. A is absolutely necessary, by
definition. Therefore A exists. But this is absurd. The reply to it must be that definition or con-
cept is impossible and hence cannot be admitted as an assumption."
Cf. p. 205, note 7. Leibniz here is so confident of the basic principle that possible concepts
strive for existence that he uses it to infer the contradictory nature of terms which do not exist.
This, however, once more threatens his distinction, worked out against Descartes and Spinoza,
between possible notions and compossible ones which, ifthe best possible, will exist.
7 See Nos. 51 and 67, Sees. 37-39.
8 To Mersenne, July 1, 1641 (Correspondence, ed. Adam and Tannery, m, 392). Leibniz had
repeatedly refuted this view of ideas from the Paris periods on (see Nos. 21, 25, and 33 and
New Essays, Book IV, 10,7).
9 The first draft added: "Meanwhile it is very true that there is the idea of God in us, because
it is most true that God is possible and hence existent and in both senses known by us. In a
certain way all ideas are innate in us, nor can the senses do anything else but to turn the mind
to them, as is shown elsewhere."
10. The comment is directed at Descartes's tendency to atomize the contents of consciousness
(cf. Meditations, Part III; Principles, Part I, Art. 21), which led his school to interpret each
state as a distinct divine creation. See also the beginnings of the correspondence with De
VoIder (No. 55). Leibniz's conception of force provides an internal continuity and self-
determination to the temporal processes of the mind.
11 See No. 50, below.
12 On the doctrine of attribute see No. 35, Sec. 8, and p. 205, notes 2 and 4. Applied to
individual substances, the concept of attribute can mean only the law of the individual series,
and Leibniz points out that this is incapable of a complete generic definition by us. For the
essence of a particular creation is beyond finite analysis, and generic definitions are possible
only of partial concepts.
13 The original version adds: "Meanwhile it is very true that matter and mind are entirely
different, as we will sometime show better."
14 The original version adds: "Meanwhile we are right in saying that colors and heat are in
things, when we mean by this the foundations of these phenomena."
15 The allusion is to Euclid's Elements, Book v, where the principles of proportion are develop-
ed.
16 Leibniz had originally added: "I have elsewhere discussed wherein the reality of material
things consists. See also Part I, Article 4."
17 Internal place is for Descartes the volume of a body; external space, the position of this
volume within a larger whole. He then defines motion as change of this external position in
relation to near-by bodies.
18 Addition in the first draft: "For the rest, I shall sometime make clear that a material mass
is itself not a substance but an aggregate resulting from substances, and that space is nothing
but the common order of all coexistents, as time is that of things which do not coexist."
19 Addition in the first draft: "We conclude that there are none on other grounds."
20 Addition in the first draft: "These opinions may be true, however, on other grounds."
21 The problem of the relativity of observed motion is thus, at this point in Leibniz's thought,
an argument for an internal force in bodies. The point is further discussed in the correspond-
ence with Huygens (No. 43) and in the Specimen dynamicum (No. 46).
22 Original addition: "although a perfectly quiescent body is in fact never found."
23 Leibniz's historical notes on the origins of the resolution of motions (and later, forces) are
in general sound. Kepler's work is Ad Vitellionem paralimpomena, quibus astronomiae pars
optica traditur (1604).
24 See No. 34. His argunlent will be often restated (cf. Nos. 46 and 55).
25 Leibniz's acknowledgment that the quantity of motion is conserved in the case of bodies
which do not reverse their direction anticipates his own more general principle of the con-
servation of quantity of progress, which differs from Descartes's principle in considering the
algebraic, not the arithmetic, sum of motions (see No. 46 and p. 451, note 9).
26 Kepler, Epitome astronomiae Copernicanae (1620), Book IV.
27 Durus. More exactly, Leibniz must mean bodies with perfect elasticity. Compare the
discussion of Articles 56 and 57 below. See on the laws of impact, p. 302, note 9.
28 As Be. points out (I, 316), G's text is in error in reading assequens for praecedens.
29 In other words, if m is the mass and v the velocity of the first body before impact, and
V its velocity after impact; and ml the mass and VI and VI the velocities before and after
impact of the second body, which overtakes the first, then Vl=O when (m-ml)/m=2v/vl.
Leibniz's formula can be derived from the principle of the conservation of vis viva and of
momentum (or quantity of progress), both of which are true only in the case of perfectly
elastic bodies:
(1)
and
(2)
by dividing (1) by (2), solving for V in the quotient, substituting for V in (2), and then resolving
the resulting equation for the case VI =0.
30 These conclusions follow from the general formula for VI in note 29, for the cases,
respectively, of m<m1, m=m1, and m>m1, with v=O.
31 See Descartes to Mersenne, January 21, February 7, and March 4, 1641 (Correspondence,
ed. Adam and Tannery, III, 287ff., 300ff., 318ff.).
3Z See No. 37.
38 G. has B, an obvious error.
34 To this article Leibniz offers the following long note (here somewhat abridged) giving a
graphical representation of the discontinuities in Descartes's laws and the continuity in his
own: Representation 0/ the rules o/motion in the case when the colliding bodies are equal.
According to Descartes - According to the truth -
a monstrous figure: an orderly figure:
~+,A:::l..-_ _ ~3
Explanation ofthe figure for Article 53.

Before collision the motion of body B is BW, that of C is AH1, AHz, etc.
After collision the motion of B is Hr/>l, H</>2, etc., according to Descartes; and HP1, HPz,
etc., according to me.
After collision the motion of C is H'l, H'2, etc., according to Descartes; and HQ1, HQ2,
etc., according to me.
e
H below or above A, and P, </>, Q, and to the right or to the left of AH, signify the same or
the contrary direction, respectively, as that taken by B before collision.
</>1, </>2, </>a, 'I, '2, 'a, are from Descartes's Rule 7; </>a, </>4, </>5, '3, '4, '6, are from his Rule 3;
</>a, '3, are from his Rule 6; and </>5 '5, from his Rule 6. My lines and Descartes's have only
two out of an infinity of cases in common: HI and H5.
35 'Schediasma de resistentia medii et motu projectorum gravium in medio resistante', Acta
eruditorum, January, 1689.
36 So G., IV, 391. Be. suggests reading "transitum a mathematica ad naturam". But G.'s
reading is defensible in view of the narrower meaning of naturalis just below. The concept of
force is metaphysical in Leibniz but appears in science in the form of derivative force.
37 Paracelsus was the source both of Van Helmont's archeus (see p. 328, note 14) and of the
animistic views of Robert Fludd (1574-1637) in his Philosophia mosaica (1638). These views
are more fully criticized in Nos. 53 and 61.
43
CORRESPONDENCE WITH HUYGENS

1692-94
(Selections)
It was the Dutch mathematician and physicist Christian Huygens who helped Leibniz,
in his Paris years, to master the literature of modern mathematics. It was also his disco-
veries in mechanics, in particular his early formulation of the laws of impact, and his later
analysis of the compound pendulum, which provided the foundation for Leibniz's theories
in dynamics. The correspondence between the two began in the Paris period (cf, above,
No. 27) and continued until Huygens' death in 1695.
In the period in which the following letters were written, the correspondence dealt with
the foundations ofphysical and cosmological theory, particularly in relation to the views
of Descartes, whom both had already criticized, and of Newton. After his reading of the
Critical Thoughts on the General Part ofthe Principles of Descartes (No. 42), Huygens
selected for comment particularly those sections in which Leibniz reduced motion on
the one hand, and firmness, mass, and impenetrability on the other, to force (Part II,
Arts. 25 and 54-59). The correspondence movedfrom the problem ofgravity and celestial
motion to that of atoms and cohesion and eventually to the relativity of time, space, and
motion. Leibniz's comments on Newton, many years before the charges of plagiarism
became serious, are ofhistorical interest.
[GM., 11,133-36]
Hanover, Aprilljll, 1692
I hope that you have perfectly recovered from the indisposition of which you spoke in
your last latter, and I wish for you good health that you may be able to finish the im-
portant meditations in which you are engaged. I will continue always to urge you to
tum your thoughts to physics. I think I have shown more than once that your last
treatises have pleased me infinitely. The explanation of Iceland spar is as it were a
proof of the accuracy of your reasoning about light. There is in it only one circumstance
about which you are not yet satisfied, but perhaps this will be cleared up later.
It appears very probable that gravity comes from the same cause which has made the
earth round and which rounds off drops, namely, the circular movement of the am-
bient in every direction. And apparently this is also the reason for the attraction of the
planets to the sun; entirely as if the planets preserve a certain magnetic direction like
that which we see on earth. If we conceive of the attraction of heavy bodies as due to
rays emanating from a center, we can explain why the weights of the planets are in-
versely proportional to the square of their distance to the sun, which is confirmed by
phenomena. This law of weight, combined with the trajection of Mr. Newton, or with

my theory of harmonic revolution, gives the ellipses of Kepler, also confirmed by

phenomena. Now it is obvious that bodies are illumined by a luminous source in
inverse proportion to the squares of their distances. I believe, further, that according
to this way of explaining gravity by the centrifugal force of a very subtle fluid, one can
think of it as rays of attraction, these efforts of the fluid being no other thing in fact
than such rays which force those bodies to descend whose circular motion is least rapid.
It seems that in addition to this a kind of vortex is necessary in the heavens to explain
the parallelism of axes. The spherical movement in all directions is not sufficient to
do this; poles and meridians are needed. Finally, the correspondence which exists
among the planets or satellites of the same system favors a common deferent liquid
matter....
... In rereading your explanation of gravity recently, I noticed that you are in favor
of a vacuum and of atoms. I admit that I find it difficult to understand the reason for
such infrangibility, and I believe that one must have recourse to a kind of perpetual
miracle to explain this effect. Also, I do not see the necessity which compels you to
return to such extraordinary entities. However, since you are inclined to accept them,
you must have an important reason for it.
II
[GM., II, 141-46] 1
Hanover, September 16/26, 1692

I have been very busy this summer, which prevented me from replying earlier to your
letter of July 11, for you touch on many important matters, which require a kind of
retreat and meditation for their answer. For this reason I am not yet in a state to
satisfy you entirely, but in the meantime I give you what I can.
I still cannot see why the many opinions about the roundness of drops, the weight of
bodies on earth, and the attraction of planets toward the sun which seem to differ
cannot be reconciled. I believe one can say in general that matter is somehow agitated
in an infinity of ways from all sides, and with a uniform difformity, such that perhaps
pressure is exerted equally in every direction. This motion should serve as well to form
bodies as to determine their place. For bodies take that position in which their motions
are least interfered with and adjust themselves to each other in some way. This can
make them join together when they are separated and make it hard to separate them
when they are joined. One can also consider, more particularly, that if a body is
surrounded by another which is more fluid and more agitated, to which it does not
permit a sufficiently free passage into its interior, it will be struck from without by an
infinity of waves which will help to harden and to press its parts together. A spherical
body is less exposed to the blows of this surrounding fluid, because its surface is the
smallest possible and because the uniform diversity of its internal motion as well as
the external motions contributes to this roundness. One can arrive at much greater
detail in the case of the terrestrial globe and consider that the agitations of a confined
fluid will be turned into rotations, for it is in this way that they continue with the least
interference; and that these rotations take place in every direction, since the agitations
which produce them do also. And the rotations which are adjacent to the earth are
adjusted to each other and act harmoniously to have a common center, which will be
that of the terrestrial globe, doubtless because through the formation of this globe,
which was apparently similar to the formation of a drop, this center was distinguished
from its other points; this rotating matter strives to draw away from the center and as a
result, will force less agitated bodies to approach it. And the centrifugal pull of matter
can be considered as rays of attraction leaving the center as compared with the bodies
which they make approach that center. The analogy of nature may lead us to believe
that there is something approaching this in the nature of the solar system - that the
planets tend toward the sun for a similar reason and that their attractions are in the
ratio of the inverse squares of their distances, as in illumination. And since there is a
great analogy between the earth and a magnet, and since there is not only attraction
but also direction in the magnet, there is ground for believing that among all the rota-
tions around the center of the earth, to which an infinity of poles can be assigned, there
are two principal poles with respect to which the matter of the earth is adjusted to a
certain course of the matter in the great solar system, as magnets adapt themselves to
the course of the matter of the terrestrial system.
It seems, Sir, that you do not approve of these efforts at generalization, but you do
not point out any particular fault which you find in them. You also do not say, for
instance, why you ascribe the roundness of water drops, more particularly, to a rapid
motion within them. Nor do you say why the centrifugal efforts of matter cannot be
considered as rays of attraction. Yet I have noticed something which could have been
said in reply, namely, that there is the same quantity oflight in all concentric spherical
surfaces, but it can be doubted that there is the same quantity of attraction. It is true
that this attempt of mine also seems plausible enough when we consider the speed of
rotation. We must examine which explanation is the better or if they can be reconciled.
The same thing can be said in regard to Mr. Newton's explanation of ellipses. Planets
move as if there were only one motion of trajection or of proper direction, combined
with gravity, as he has observed. Yet they also move as if they were carried along
smoothly by a matter whose circulation is harmonic, and it seems that this circulation
works in harmony with the proper direction of the planet. The reason why I cannot
abandon this deferent matter, even after learning Mr. Newton's explanation, is among
other things, that I find that all the planets move somewhat in the same direction and
in a single region, a thing which applies even to the satellites of Jupiter and Saturn.
Without this deferent matter, on the other hand, nothing would prevent the planets
from going in every direction. There are many things to be said about all this, which
I hope to clear up more definitely some day. 2 •••
... I come to our difference on the void and the atoms, which it will be difficult to
avoid. 3 You assume, Sir, that there is a certain primitive firmness in bodies, and
because this is so, you conclude that this must be infinite, since there is no reason
whatever to assume it of a definite degree. I agree that it would be absurd to ascribe a
certain degree of firmness to all bodies, for there is nothing to determine one degree of
this kind rather than another. But it is not absurd to ascribe different degrees of
firmness to different bodies; otherwise one could prove by the same reason that bodies
must have either a zero velocity or an infinite velocity. If it be assumed that nature
must vary, reason demands that there be no atoms or bodies of an infinite firmness at
all; otherwise they would all be infinitely firm, which is not at all necessary. It seems
also that you have not satisfactorily answered the difficulty involved in atoms which
touch each other by some surface, thereby remaining caught and inseparably attached
to each other. For to deny that atoms have flat surfaces or surfaces which otherwise

fit each other, even if only in their smallest parts, is a questionable assumption. But
even if we admit this, I believe that in reasonings of this kind we should consider not
only what is but also what is possible. Let us assume the possibility, therefore, that all
atoms have only plane surfaces; then it is clear that this difficulty about their cohesion
arises and that consequently the hypothesis of perfect hardness is unreasonable. 4
There are still other difficulties in the atoms. For example, they cannot obey the laws
of motion, for the force of two equal atoms which collide directly and with an equal
velocity must be lost, since it would seem that it is only elasticity which makes bodies
rebound. But even if there were no difficulty, it seems that we ought not to admit a
quality such as primitive firmness without a reason. There is nothing to be seen which
attaches two masses together, and I do not see how you, Sir, can conceive that the
contact alone can serve as a kind of cement. 5 Now since there is no natural connection
whatever between contact and attachment, it must follow that if contact is followed by
adhesion, this happens by a perpetual miracle. But if firmness is to be an explicable
quality, it must come from motion, since it is only motion which distinguishes bodies.
If this is assumed, everything which I can say of the original connection of bodies
reduces to this - that force is necessary to detach one part of matter from another,
since this detachment changes the motion and the present course of bodies. In a mass
the motion of all its parts acts in harmony insofar as there is some rule or law to com-
pare the moving parts with each other, and the mass is disturbed in the measure in
which this rule becomes more composite. One can also say that every body has a
certain degree of firmness and of flexibility. Yet when some iron bar or other large
body is considered, it is unnecessary to have recourse at once to the primitive origin
of firmness, any more than to atoms; it suffices to make use of little bodies, each of
which already possesses firmness within it, but each of which remains attached to the
others, a little like two boards which touch each other with their flat surfaces and which
the surrounding pressure prevents from suddenly parting.
I am not at all eager to publish my remarks on the general part of Descartes's philo-
sophy. Mr. de Beauval seems to offer to take them to Holland with him. Since you
have taken the trouble to examine them, I wish that you had noted the passages with
which you do not agree, beyond those which con~ider the void and firmness. I wish
that some able Cartesian who has retained his capacity to reason could also examine
them, so that I might learn what he would say in opposition. I have written this to
Mr. de Beauval. I hope some day to see what you will say about motion. I have ex-
amined the Principles of Descartes with the aid of a general principle of fitness which
has no defects, in my opinion, and which seems useful for refuting errors while pre-
paring for the pure truth. By means of this principle, it was easy to show how the
Cartesian rules of motion refute themselves. My design in these comments was only to
make critical observations on Descartes, without claiming to give the true philosophy...
III
[GM. II, 179-85]
Hanover, June 12/22, 1694 6
I am greatly pleased to receive the honor of your letter after so long an absence. But I
am careful not to complain, for I well know how precious your time is. And besides,
I shall always be ardent in exhorting you to guard your health, especially since I learn
from your letter that it has been a little irregular. Would to God that our studies
might serve to make considerable advances in medicine. But until now this science is
almost entirely empirical. It is true that even empiricism would be of great use if men
were interested in observing well, or even in making good use of all the observations
already made. But since medicine has become a business, those who make it their
profession do so only by way of gain and as far as is necessary to save appearances,
knowing well that few people are capable of passing judgment upon what they are
doing. I wish that some religious order such as the Capuchins, for example, would
devote itself to medicine on the principle of charity. Well administered, such an order
could carry it far. But enough of these useless wishes; let us come to the points in your
letter.
I wish the public might soon learn the particulars of your clock, for they cannot fail
to be of great importance. As for your treatment of a philosophical matter, I should be
pleased sometime to learn what it can be. 7 You have been too reserved until now in
wishing to publish nothing but demonstrations, whereas men of your power ought not
to withhold even their conjectures. This is why you will do only good by expressing
your opinions on all kinds of matters, even philosophical and problematical. Your
exhortation confirms me in the purpose I have of producing a treatise explaining the
foundations and applications of the calculus of sums and differences and some related
matters. As an appendix I shall add the beautiful insights and discoveries of certain
geometricians who have made good use of my method, if they will be so kind as to
send them to me. I hope that the Marquis de l'Hospital will do me this favor if you
judge it fitting to suggest it to him. The Bernoulli brothers could also do it. If I
find something in the works of Mr. Newton which Mr. Wallis has inserted in his
algebra which will help get us forward, I shall make use of it and give him credit. 8
But I venture to ask that you yourself will favor me with what you judge appro-
priate, as for example, your analysis of Mr. Bernoulli's problem by means of this kind
of calculus....
... I do not know ifI have told you that Mr. Fati0 9 has communicated to me some
of his thoughts about a mechanical explanation of Mr. Newton's opinions. It is true
that he has done this only reservedly and in riddles. He believes that matter fills only
a very small part of space and that bodies are open structures like skeletons to permit
easy passage. He believes too that if space were filled with an inert fluid matter in
every direction, this would greatly interfere with the motion of bodies. He speaks of the
objection which you have made, namely, that matter should then grow thick around the
earth and so stop it, but says that this objection vanishes when it is examined carefully
and that Mr. Huygens (so he adds) is now convinced of this. In this, he says, something
admirable transpires which must be commented on before one can see that your ob-
jection has no substance.
It seems in this case that a circulation or reciprocal motion occurs in nature, such
that a subtle but dense or compressed matter, as it moves away from the bodies which
attract others, forces the larger matter to approach these bodies. But when this gross
matter arrives, it is ground up and made subtle and so sent back directly to the cir-
cumference, where it is again dispersed and serves as food for other gross bodies.
There may be many reasons for attraction, such as centrifugal force arising from a
circular motion, which you have used, but also the straight motion of corpuscles in
about the sense in which I once saw them described by an author who tried to explain

on this basis the firmness of bodies and phenomena commonly ascribed to the weight
of air, but which you have observed in a vacuum. Since it seems that the mass of the
earth must act in such a way that more corpuscles tend to strive toward it than can
arrive, one could say that this would push the body toward the earth, according to the
opinion of earlier men whom you have noted. To these factors can also be added
explosion, like that of an infinity of air guns [arquebuses a vent]. For could it not be
said that the bodies which produce light, weight, and magnetism are still coarse in
comparison with those which produce only their own force and that the latter thus
inclose a compressed matter, but that when they arrive at the sun or toward the center
of other bodies which make an emission (whose interior would thus be like the sun), the
great movement which this body exerts breaks and unbinds them and frees the matter
compressed in them? It seems in fact that it is from this matter that fire comes. There
may also be many factors combined to cause weight, since nature works in such a way
that everything is in as much agreement as is possible. However this may be, it will
always be difficult for us to determine these things. If anyone could succeed in our time,
it would be you. It is true that all ethereal matter which tends toward the earth or to-
ward some other body without penetrating it could not return from it. For that which
does not penetrate will rebound and strike some other matter arriving behind it. Thus
matter must be mixed together and pack itself around the body. But perhaps the mass
thus formed is at once dissipated, a little like the sunspots.
As for the difference between absolute and relative motion, I believe that if motion,
or better, the motive force of bodies, is something real, as it seems we must acknow-
ledge, it is necessary for it to have a subject. For if a and b approach each other, I as-
sert that all the phenomena involved will happen in the same way, regardless of which
one the motion or rest is assigned to. Even if there were a thousand bodies, I still hold
that the phenomena could not provide us (or angels) with an infallible basis for deter-
mining the subject or the degree of motion and that each body could be conceived
separately as being at rest. And I believe that this is all that you ask. But you will not
deny, I think, that each body does truly have a certain degree of motion, or if you
wish, of force, in spite of the equivalence of these hypotheses about their motion. It
is true that from this I draw the conclusion that there is something more in nature than
what geometry can determine about it. This is not the least important of the many
arguments which I use to prove that besides extension and its variations, which are
purely geometrical things, we must recognize something higher, namely, force. Mr.
Newton recognizes the equivalence of hypotheses in the case of rectilinear motions but
believes that in the case of circular motions the efforts which the bodies exert to depart
from the center or the axis of rotation compel us to recognize their motion as absolute.
But there are reasons which make me believe that nothing breaks the general law of
equivalence. It seems to me, however, that you yourself, Sir, were once of Newton's
opinion in regard to circular motion ....
P.S. I do not know when I shall see the work which Mr. Wallis has just published.
Would you do me the favor, Sir, of having the passages in which Mr. Newton gives his
new discoveries copied for me? I do not ask directly for his method of finding series, but
whether he gives the methods for converse tangents or something similar. In writing
me earlier, he concealed his method in transposed letters. He indicated that he had two
methods, one more general, the other more elegant. I do not know if he has spoken of
them here.
IV
[GM., II, 193-99]
Hanover, September 4/14, 169410
I begin by thanking you for communicating to me the extract from Mr. Wallis' work
which concerns Mr. Newton. I see that his calculus agrees with mine, but I think that
the consideration of differences and sums is more fitted for enlightening the mind,
since it occurs also in the ordinary series of numbers and in a way corresponds to
powers and roots. It seems to me that Mr. Wallis speaks rather coolly of Mr. Newton
and implies that it would be easy to derive these methods from Barrow's lectures. When
things are done, it is easy to say, "Et nos hoc poteramus."l1 Complex matters cannot
so easily be disentangled by the human mind without the use of characters. I am also
pleased to see, at last, the deciphering of the enigmas contained in Mr. Newton's
letter to the late Mr. Oldenburg. But I am sorry not to find the new lights which I had
promised myself on inverse tangents. For this is nothing but a method for expressing
the value of the ordinate of a sought curve through infinite series, the basis for which
I already knew in those early days, as I then testified to Mr. Oldenburg. Some time
ago I published this method in the Leipzig Acts, in an easy and very general form ....
. .. When I told you in Paris that it is difficult to know the true subject of motion,
you replied that this could be done by means of circular motion. This interested me,
and I remembered it when I read almost the same thing in Mr. Newton's book. But
this was after I had already seen that circular motion has no advantages in this respect.
I see that you are now of the same opinion. I hold, then, that all hypotheses are equi-
valent and that when I assign certain motions to certain bodies, I do not have, and
cannot have, any other reason but the simplicity of the hypothesis which I choose, for
I believe that one can hold the simplest hypothesis (other things being equal) for the
true one. Since I have no other criterion, therefore, I believe that the difference between
us is only in our manner of speech, which I try to accommodate as far as I can to
popular usage, salva veritate. I am not far from your opinion, and I have adapted my-
self to it in a small paper which I have sent to Mr. Viviani, and which seems to me
appropriate to persuade the gentlemen at Rome to allow Copernicus' hypothesis. 12
But if you hold these views about the reality of motion, I imagine your views about the
nature of body should also be different from those customarily held. My views are
rather unusual but seem to me to be demonstrated. I hope some day to learn your
opinions about my Critical Thoughts against Descartes, which you have given me hope
of receiving, and also about what I have sent you in opposition to atoms and the
void ....
REFERENCES
1 In his letter of July 11, 1692 (GM., II, 139ft'.), Huygens postulated an infinite hardness in the
parts of matter, in direct opposition to Descartes's theory that all the properties of bodies
arise from motion and that firmness in particular comes from the grinding-off of comers and
parts, which leaves spherical bodies with rapidly moving splinters between them (Principies,
Part III, 49-52, 87-88). Huygens himself proposed an explanation of cohesion based upon
leveral factors, among them external pressure.
2 Leibniz is driven by his search for generalized explanations to explain gravity in terms of a
plenum and vertical motion and to carry out the analogy to light, magnetism, and fimmess.
This effort is continued until the correspondence with Clarke at the end of his life (No. 71).
8 The pun is Leibniz's.
4 See No. 42, Part II, Arts. 54 and 55.
5 Leibniz's basic objection is that atoms violate the principles of sufficient reason and of
continuity, since the transition from aggregated bodies to simple atoms carries over material-
istic properties such as extension and firmness but involves a leap from one set of laws of
motion and cohesion to another.
6 In his letter of May 29,1694, Huygens selected another remark in the Critical Thoughts on
the General Part of the Principles of Descartes for comment. Leibniz had implied (Part II, on
Art. 25) that Descartes's theory involved the relativity of motion and that to determine the
subject of motion, one must go beyond it to force. Huygens erroneously ascribed to Leibniz
the view that it is absurd to regard motion as relative and asserted that he himself held to
such a relativity and believed that Newton would change his opinion in the second edition of
the Principia.
7 In his last letter, Huygens had mentioned working on "un petit traite en matiere philosophi-
que". This was probably the Cosmotheoros, published posthumously in 1698.
8 Leibniz's plan to write a differential and integral calculus was not carried out, though he
worked on the manuscript and hoped to have it published at the Louvre in Paris (No. 49). The
first standard text was by the Marquis de l'Hospital himself, the Analyse des injiniment petits
pour I'inte/ligence des lignes courbes (1696). The Opera mothematica (Oxford 1693) of John
Wallis contained two letters of Newton with an account of his own methods. This paragraph,
the postcript, and the following letter are significant for Leibniz's opinion on the value and
independence of the two methods ten years before Newton's pupil, John Keill, actually pushed
the charges of plagiarism.
9 Fatio de Duillier, a Swiss mathematician living in London, was the first to imply (in 1699)
that Leibniz's calculus was not original with him. He had been incensed by Leibniz's failure to
mention him in an article on the solutions to the brachistochrone problem in 1697. The charge
of plagiarism became serious, however, only when John Keill renewed it in 1705.
10 In his reply on August 21, 1694, Huygens supplied the notes on Wallis' works and said that
he had held to the absoluteness of motion until the last two or three years but that he could not
agree with Leibniz that each body nevertheless has its own definite degree of motion.
11 "We too could have done this."
12 This paper was printed by Gerhardt (GM., VI, 144-47) as a note to the Tentamen de motuum
coelestium causis. Leibniz's appeal to Rome was grounded upon the relativity of motion.
44
FROM THE ETHICAL AND LEGAL WRITINGS

1693-1700
Of the four studies given here, only the first two, selected from the prefaces of Leibniz's
two published collections of medieval state documents, can be dated. The third, however,
is also probably from the last decade of the 17th century, though its theme occurs much
earlier in Leibniz's thought. The fourth selection, Leibniz's notes on Felden, is earlier.
One of the fruits of the journey of historical research in 1687-90 was the collection
which Leibniz made of historical documents of importance for European history and law.
Impressed by the materials available through his own work and in the library at Wo/fen-
biittel, and invited by the Vienna librarian, Nesse, to supplement the catalogue of state
documents there, he decided to publish his own collection in competition with a similar
plan pushed forward in Paris by Leonard. The Codex juris gentium diplomaticus
appeared in 1693, the Mantissa codicis juris gentium in 1700. His concern for European
peace was conspicuous in the Preface of the earlier work, which discussed also the impor-
tance of accurate and reliable sources for the understanding of historical causes, and as a
basis for "the law of nature and of nations", in contrast with the "voluntary law" based
on contracts between sovereigns and assuring only armistices rather than enduring peace.,
I. FROM THE PREFACE OF THE

'CODEX JURIS GENTIUM DIPLOMATICUS'
1693
(Selection)
[G., III, 386-89]
Even after the efforts of so many famous authors, I am not sure that the notions of
Right 1 and justice have been made sufficiently clear. Right is a kind of moral power,
and obligation is moral necessity. By moral, however, I mean something equivalent to
natural for a good man, for as a Roman jurisconsult has well said, we should believe
that we are incapable of doing things which are contrary to good morals. A good man
is one who loves all men, so far as reason permits. Therefore, if I am not mistaken, we
may most fittingly define justice, which is the virtue governing that affection which the
Greeks call philanthropy, as the charity of the wise man, that is, as charity which follows
the dictates of wisdom. So the assertion attributed to Carneades, that justice is the
highest folly because it bids us consider the interests of others while neglecting our
own, is based on ignorance of its definition. 2 Charity is universal benevolence, and
benevolence is the habit of loving or of cherishing. But to love or to cherish is to find
pleasure in the happiness of another, or what amounts to the same thing, to accept the
happiness of another as one's own. Thus the knotty question of how there can be a
disinterested love which is free from hope and fear, and from every consideration of
utility, is solved, and in a way that is also of great importance in theology.3 For the

happiness ef these whese happiness pleases us is ebvieusly built into. eur ewn, since
things which please us are desired fer their ewn sake. Thus the centemplatien ef
beautiful things is itself pleasant, and a painting ef Raphael affects him who. under-
stands it, even if it effers no. material gains, so. that he keeps it in his sight and takes
delight in it, in a kind ef image ef leve. But when the beautiful object is at the same
time itself capable ef happiness, this affectien passes ever into. true leve. The divine love
mereever, excels ever ether leves because Ged can be leved with the happiest result,
since nething is happier than Ged, and at the same time no.thing can be co.nceived mere
beautiful and mere wo.rthy ef happiness. And since he po.ssesses supreme po.wer and
supreme wisdem, his happiness is net enly built into. eurs, (if we are wise; that is, if
we lo.ve him), but it also. co.nstitutes o.urs. But since wisdo.m sheuld guide charity, we
also. need a definitio.n o.f wisdo.m. I believe, ho.wever, that we will best satisfy the
cencept men have ef it if we say that wisdom is no.thing but the science o.f happiness
itself. So. we ceme back again to. the no.tio.n o.f happiness, which this is net the place to.
explain.
New from this seurce is derived natural right, o.f which there are three degrees:
strict right [jus strictus) in cemmutative justice; equity (o.r charity in the narrewer
sense ef the term) in distributive justice; and finally, piety (o.r prebity) in universal
justice. Hence the three mo.st general and co.mmo.nly accepted precepts o.f right: to.
injure no. ene, to. give to. each his due, and to. live heno.rably (o.r better, pio.usly), as I
o.nce suggested as a yo.uth in a bo.ek en the methed o.f the law. 4
The precept o.f mere right o.r strict right is that no one is to be injured, lest he be given
gro.und fer legal actien if a member o.f the state, er the right ef war if he is eutside the
state. Frem this arises the justice which philo.so.phers call commutative, and the right
which Gro.tius calls a legal claim [facultas). 5
The higher degree I call equity, o.r, if yo.u prefer, charity (that is, in the narro.wer
sense). This I extend beyo.nd the rigo.r o.f strict right, to. include these o.bligatio.ns
which give to. these whem they affect no. gro.und fer actien in co.mpelling us to. fulfil
them, such as the ebligatien o.f gratitude and o.f almsgiving. Upen these, Grotius
says, we have a moral claim [aptitudo), net a legal claim [facultas). And as the
lewest degree o.f right is to. harm no. ene, so. the middle degree is to. de geed to.
all men, but o.nly so. far as befits each o.ne o.r as much as each deserves, since we
canno.t befriend all men equally. It is therefo.re here that distributive justice belo.ngs and
the precept o.f the law that co.mmands us to. give each one his due. And it is here that
the peliticallaws in a state beleng, which assure the happiness efits subjects and which
usually bring it abeut that these who. had merely a meral claim acquire a legal claim,
that is, that they beceme able to. demand what it is equitable fer ethers to. perferm.
In the lewest degree o.f right, the differences ameng men are net co.nsidered, with the
exceptio.n of these which arise frem each particular case, but all men are ceunted as
equals. New, hewever, en this higher level, merits are weighed, and so. privileges,
rewards, and punishments have their place. Xenephen has nicely suggested this differ-
ence between the degrees o.f right, in his example ef the bey Cyrus, who. was chesen to.
act as judge between two. beys, the stro.nger ef whem had fo.rcibly exchanged garments
with the ether because he fo.und that the ether's ceat fitted him and his ewn fitted the
ether better. Cyrus pro.neunced in faver o.f the rebber. But his instructo.r reminded
him that the questien at this po.int was net whem the ceat might fit, but o.nly to. whem
it belenged, and that he might mere pro.perly use this ether ferm ef judgment o.nly
when he himself had coats to distribute. For equity itself recommends strict right, or
the equality of men, to us in our dealings, except when an important consideration of
greater good commands us to depart from it. What is called respect of persons,
however, has its place, not in exchanging goods with others but in distributing our
own or the public goods.
The highest degree of right I have named probity, or rather piety. What I have said
thus far can be so interpreted as to be limited to the relations within mortal life. Mere
right or strict right, indeed, arises from the principle of preserving peace; equity or
charity strives for something more - that while each benefits the other as much as he
can, he may increase his own happiness in that of the other. In a word, strict right
avoids misery whereas the higher right tends toward happiness, but only such as falls
within this mortality. But that we ought to hold this life itself, and all that makes it
desirable, second to the great advantage of others, so that it behooves us to bear the
greatest pains for the sake of others - this is beautifully taught by philosophers rather
than firmly demonstrated. For the dignity and glory, and the joyous sense by virtue of
one's own mind, to which they appeal under the name of honor [honestas], are cer-
tainly goods of thought or of the mind, and indeed, great ones. But they are not such
as prevail over all men, or over all the bitterness of evils, since not all men are equally
moved by the imagination, especially those who have not grown used to the weighing
of virtue or the cherishing of goods of the mind, whether through a liberal education
or the habit of living as free men, or the discipline of life or of sect. In order really to
establish by a universal demonstration that everything honorable is beneficial and that
everything base is harmful, we must assume the immortality of the soul and the ruler
of the universe, God. Thus it is that we may think of all men as living in the most
perfect state, under a monarch who can neither be deceived in his wisdom nor eluded
in his power, but who is also so lovable that it is happiness to serve such a lord. Hence
whoever expends his soul for him, as Christ teaches, shall gain it. His power and
providence bring it to pass that every right passes over into fact, that no one is injured
except by himself, and that no right deed is without its reward, no sin without its
punishment. As we are divinely taught by Christ, all our hairs are numbered, and not
even a drink of water is given to the thirsty in vain; thus nothing is neglected in the
commonwealth of the universe. It is on this ground that justice is called universal, and
includes all other virtues, for duties that do not otherwise seem to concern others, as
for example, not to abuse our own bodies or property, though they lie beyond human
laws, are yet prohibited by the law [jus] of nature, that is, by the eternal laws of the
divine monarchy, since we owe ourselves and our all to God. For if it is of interest to
the state that no one should make bad use of his property, how much more to the
interest of the universe! And so it is from this that the highest precept of the law
receives its force, which commands us to live honorably (that is, piously). It is in this
sense that learned men have rightly set down, among things to be desired, that the
law of nature and the law of nations should follow the teachings of Christianity, that is,
TU uvoJTspa, the sublime matters, the divine things of the wise, after the pattern of
Christ. In this way I believe that I have interpreted the three precepts of the law, or the
three degrees of justice, in the most fitting way and have pointed out the sources of
natural law.
Besides 6 the eternal right of a rational nature, which flows from this divine source,
there is also held to be a voluntary right, which is derived from custom or established

424 LEIBNI Z: PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS AND LETTERS
by a superior. And within the state, civil law does indeed receive its force from him
who has the supreme power; outside of the state, or among those who take part in the
supreme power (of whom there may also be several within the same state), is the sphere
of the voluntary law of nations, which is derived from the silent consensus of the peoples.
It is not necessary for this to be the consensus of all peoples or of all times, for there
have been many cases in which one thing was judged right in India and another in
Europe, and even among ourselves it has changed with the course of centuries, as this
work itself will show....
But Christians have still another bond, the positive divine law contained in the sacred
writings. To these are to be added the sacred canons accepted by the whole church and
later, in the West, the papal law, to which kings and peoples make submission. In
general, before the schism of the past century, it seems to have been accepted for a long
time, and not without reason, that we must think of a kind of commonwealth of
Christian nations, the heads of which are the pope in sacred matters, and the Holy
Roman emperor in temporal affairs. These seem to have retained as much of the old
Roman law as was needed for the common good of Christendom, without prejudice to
the right of kings and the liberty of princes ....
II. FROM THE PREFACE TO THE

MANTISSA CODICIS JURIS GENTIUM 7
1700
... It seems desirable, however, to reply to one objection which has been made to me,
on an issue upon which I touched there [in the Preface of the Codex] before it was
openly discussed, and which recently excited much argument in France, until it was
suppressed by authority of the king and the supreme pontiff. 8 This is the controversy
about whether love which is disinterested, and seeks the well-being of the beloved,
nevertheless depends upon the impulsion toward one's own well-being. Somewhat
the same question, namely, had occurred to me when I prefaced the Codex juris
gentium with some remarks on the foundation of law, which I tried to find in charity,
since justice is nothing but the charity of a wise man. For how can love be bestowed
upon others? Who seeks the well-being of the beloved for its own sake, since we will
nothing except for the sake of our own good?
I should answer that whatever is pleasant is sought for itself, as opposed, that is, to
what is useful to the good ends of producing the well-being of another. I observed that
such is the object of true love, since to love or to cherish is to be delighted by the
happiness of the beloved and his perfections. I understood the following objection to
have been made against this - that it is more perfect so to submit to God that you are
moved by his will alone and not by your own delight. But we must recognize that this
conflicts with the nature of things, for the impulse to action arises from a striving
toward perfection, the sense of which is pleasure, and there is no action or will on any
other basis. Even in our evil purposes 'file are moved by a certain perceived appearance
of good or perfection, even though we miss the mark, or rather pay for a lesser good,
iII sought, by throwing away a greater. Nor can anyone renounce (except merely
verbally) being impelled by his own good, without renouncing his own nature. And so
it is to be feared that the negation of self which certain false mystics teach, and the
suspension of action and thought by which they assume that we find supreme union
with God, may end at length in a doctrine of the mortality of the soul such as is taught
by the Averroists and other old philosophers as well, to whom it seemed that minds do
not persist after man's death, except in that ocean of divinity from which the drops had
once come forth. I seem to observe the seeds of this doctrine in Valentine Weigel, in
the so-called Angelus Silesius, and in Molinos, though perhaps these authors do not
themselves adequately recognize it. 9 So we rightly reject the lazy reason [a8p)'o~ lo)'o~]
of men, the philosophic opinion of those who locate perfection in quietude, that is,
in cessation, and who thus withdraw far from true tranquillity and charity and far,
too, from Telemachus himself.lO
III. ON WISDOM ll
[Guh. DS., I, 420-26; G., VII, 86-87)
Wisdom is merely the science of happiness or that science which teaches us to achieve
happiness.
Happiness is a state of permanent joy. The happy man does not, it is true, feel this
joy at every instant, for he sometimes rests from his contemplation, and usually also
turns his thoughts to practical affairs. But it is enough that he is in a state to feel joy
whenever he wishes to think of it and that at other times there is a joyousness in his
actions and his nature which arises from this.
Present joy does not make happy of it has no permanence; indeed, he is rather
unhappy who falls into a long wretchedness for the sake of a brief joy.
Joy is a pleasure which the soul feels in itself. Pleasure is the feeling of a perfection
or an excellence, whether in ourselves or in something else. For the perfection of other
beings also is agreeable, such as understanding, courage, and especially beauty in
another human being, or in an animal or even in a lifeless creation, a painting or a work
of craftsmanship, as well. For the image of such perfection in others, impressed upon us,
causes some of this perfection to be implanted and aroused within ourselves. Thus there
is no doubt that he who consorts much with excellent people or things becomes
himself more excellent.
Although the perfections of others sometimes displease us - as for example, the
understanding or the courage of any enemy, the beauty of a rival, or the luster of
another's virtue which overshadows or shames us - this is not because of the perfection
itself but because of the circumstance which makes it inopportune for us, so that the
sweetness of our first perception of this perfection in someone else is exceeded and
spoiled by the consequent bitterness of our afterthoughts.
We do not always observe wherein the perfection of pleasing things consists, or
what kind of perfection within ourselves they serve, yet our feelings [Gemiith] perceive
it, even though our understanding does not. We commonly say, 'There is something,
I know not what, that pleases me in the matter.' This we call 'sympathy'. But those who
seek the causes of things will usually find a ground for this and understand that there is
something at the bottom of the matter which, though unnoticed, really appeals to us.
Music is a beautiful example of this. Everything that emits a sound contains a
vibration or a transverse motion such as we see in strings; thus everything that emits
sounds gives off invisible impulses. When these are not confused, but proceed to-
gether in order but with a certain variation, they are pleasing; in the same way, we also
notice certain changes from long to short syllables, and a coincidence of rhymes in

poetry, which contain a silent music, as it were, and when correctly constructed are
pleasant even without being sung. Drum beats, the beat and cadence of the dance, and
other motions of this kind in measure and rule derive their pleasurableness from their
order, for all order is an aid to the emotions. And a regular though invisible order is
found also in the artfully created beats and motions of vibrating strings, pipes, bells,
and indeed, even of the air itself, which these bring into uniform motion. Through our
hearing, this creates a sympathetic echo in us, to which our animal spirits respond.
This is why music is so well adapted to move our minds, even though this main pur-
pose is not usually sufficiently noticed or sought after.
There can be no doubt that even in touch, taste, and smell, sweetness consists in a
definite though insensible order and perfection or a fitness, which nature has put there
to stimulate us and the animals to that which is otherwise needed, so that the right use
of all pleasurable things is really brought about in us, even though these things may
give rise to a far greater harm through abuse and intemperance.
I call any elevation of being a perfection. Just as illness is a debasement, as it were,
and a decline from health, so perfection is something which rises above health. But
health itself stands balanced in the middle and lays the foundation for perfection. Now
illness comes from an injury to action, as medical men rightly observe. Just so per-
fection shows itself in great freedom and power of action, since all being consists in a
kind of power; and the greater the power, the higher and freer the being.
The greater any power is, moreover, the more there is found in it the many revealed
through the one and in the one, in that the one rules many outside of itself and re-
presents them in itself. Now unity in plurality is nothing but harmony [tJbereinstim-
mung], and since any particular being agrees with one rather than another being, there
flows from this harmony the order from which beauty arises, and beauty awakens love.
Thus we see that happiness, pleasure, love, perfection, being, power, freedom,
harmony, order, and beauty are all tied to each other, a truth which is rightly perceived
by few.
Now when the soul feels within itself a great harmony, order, freedom, power, or
perfection, and hence feels pleasure in this, the result is joy, as these explanations show.
Such joy is permanent and cannot deceive, nor can it cause a future unhappiness if it
arises from knowledge and is accompanied by a light which kindles an inclination to
the good in the will, that is, virtue. But when pleasure and joy are directed toward
satisfying the senses rather than the understanding, they can as easily lead us to un-
happiness as to bliss, just as a food which tastes good can be unwholesome. So the
enjoyment of the senses must be used according to the rules of reason, like a food,
medicine, or exercise. But the pleasure which the soul finds in itself through under-
standing is a present joy such as can conserve our joy for the future as well.
It follows from this that nothing serves our happiness better than the illumination of
our understanding and the exercise of our will to act always according to our under-
standing, and that this illumination is to be sought especially in the knowledge of such
things as can bring our understanding ever further into a higher light. For there springs
from such knowledge an enduring progress in wisdom and virtue, and therefore also
in perfection and joy, the advantage of which remains with the soul even after this life.
A separate discussion would be needed to show what the things are whose knowledge
causes so happy a progress. Meanwhile we can say that no one can rise more easily to a
higher stage of happiness than can persons of rank, yet that no one finds it more
difficult than they actually to achieve this happiness, as Christ himself tells us. The
reason is that though they have the power to do much good, they rarely put their
minds to it. For having opportunities constantly for sensual indulgence, they grow
used to seeking their joys mostly in the pleasures which come from the body. And even
when they rise higher, they seek praise and honor from others more than a true satis-
faction within themselves. Hence their self-deceit ends when the pleasures of the body
are destroyed by illness, and their glory by misfortunes, and they find that they are
unhappy. From their youth they have followed the drive of external things for the
sake of the pleasure which they found in it, and especially because it is hard, at first, to
resist this stream. Thus they have for the most part lost their freedom of mind.
It is a great thing, therefore, when a person of rank can enjoy himself even in illness,
misfortune, and disgrace 12 , especially if he can find contentment, not out of necessity
because he sees that things must be as they are (this is no more comfort than that of
taking a sleeping potion to escape feeling pain), but out of the awakening within him-
self of a great joy which overcomes these pains and misfortunes.
Such joy, which a person can always create for himself when his mind is well ordered,
consists in the perception of pleasure in himself and in the powers of his mind, when
a man feels within himself a strong inclination and readiness for the good and the
true, and particularly through the profound knowledge which an enlightened under-
standing provides for us, namely, that we experience the chief source, the course, and
the purpose of everything, and the incomprehensible excellence of that Supreme Na-
ture which comprises all things within it. Thus are we lifted above the unknowing,
just as if we were looking down from the stars and could see all earthly things under our
feet. Then at last we learn that we have reason to find the highest joy in all things that
have happened and are yet to happen, but that we must also seek, as far as is in our
power, to direct what has not yet happened for the best. For it is one of the eternal
laws of nature that we shall enjoy the perfection of things and the pleasure which
results from it, only in the measure of our knowledge, our good will, and our contri-
bution to this perfection.
When a person of rank attains this and finds his joy in the actions of his understand-
ing and his virtue, even in the midst of all abundance and honor, I consider him doubly
exalted. He is exalted unto himself because of this, his happiness and true joy; he is
exalted before others because it is entirely certain that such a person can and will
share his light and virtue with many others because of his power and reputation, since
such sharing will reflect glory upon himself and so give new light to all those who have
the same common purpose of helping each other in the search for truth, the knowledge
of nature, the multiplication of human powers, and the advancement of the common
good.
The great happiness of persons who are both exalted in rank and enlightened as well
is therefore apparent, because they can do as much for their happiness as if they had a
thousand hands and a thousand lives - indeed, as if they lived a thousand times as
long as they do. For only so much of our life is to be valued as truly living as the good
we do in it. One who does much good in a short time is thus equal to one who lives a
thousand times as long. This is the case with those who can make thousands upon
thousands of hands work with them, so that more good can be brought about in a few
years, to their supreme glory and enjoyment, than could otherwise be achieved in many
hundreds of years.

The beauty of nature is so great, its contemplation is so sweet, and the light and
good inclination which arise from these bring such glorious fruitage even in this life
that he who has tasted them considers all other delights small by contrast. But when
we add that the soul does not perish but that every perfection within her must be
preserved to bring forth fruit, then it can be seen in full how the true happiness which
arises from wisdom and virtue is incomparably and immeasurably high above all that
we may imagine about it.
IV. ON NATURAL LAW 13

[Guh. DS., I, 414-19]
Justice is a social virtue, or a virtue which preserves society.
A society is a union of different men for a common purpose.
A natural society is one which is demanded by nature.
The signs by which one can conclude that nature demands something are, first, that
nature has given us a desire and the power or effectiveness to fulfil it, for nature does
nothing in vain; and then, more especially when the matter involves a necessity or a
permanent benefit, for nature everywhere achieves the best.
The most perfect society is that whose purpose is the universal and supreme happiness.
Natural law is that which preserves or furthers natural societies.
The first natural society is that between man and woman, for it is necessary to
preserve the human race. The second is between parents and children; this arises at
once out of the first, for when children are procreated or freely adopted, they must be
reared, that is, governed and nourished. In return they owe their parents obedience and
help after they are reared. For such a society is conceived and furthered by the hope of
this gratitude, though nature maintains it principally for the sake of the children - that
they may sometime achieve perfection. Parents exist primarily for the sake of children;
the present, which does not last long, for the sake of the future.
The third natural society exists between master and servant. This is natural when a
person lacks understanding but does not lack strength to nourish himself. Such a per-
son is by nature a servant who must work as another directs him. From his work he
receives his maintenance; the rest belongs to his master. For whatever the servant is,
he is for the sake of his master, since all other powers exist for the sake of the under-
standing. But understanding is in the master, only the other powers are in the servant.
Since such a servant exists for the sake of his master, his master owes him only his
maintenance, and that for his own sake, in order not to ruin his servant.
This might be understood if there were no hope of bringing the servant himself to
understanding; otherwise the master would be obligated to advance his servant's
freedom through education, at least as far as this is necessary for the happiness of the
servant. To confess the truth, I doubt whether an instance can be found of a servitude
such that the servant exists entirely for the sake of the master, especially since souls are
immortal and hence can sometime achieve understanding and the blessedness of a life
based upon it. In my opinion, therefore, this society exists only between men and
cattle. For even if a man were born entirely brutish and incapable of any instruction,
we should still not have the right to martyr, kill, or sell him to barbarians for our own
good. But if souls were only mortal, this servitude might occur in entire races which
are almost as dumb as cattle, and so could be kept in this stupidity for the advantage of
their masters - at least to the extent that children can be reared not to advance beyond
cattle. Now since the universal rules of justice are taught, and even atheists must
accept them, it seems that the natural servants of men can be dealt with, provided,
that is, any such servants are to be found. Even if such servitude is not to be endured in
its full force among men, something similar and approaching it sometimes conforms to
nature. To summarize, natural servitude applies to unintelligent men insofar as it is
not restricted by the rules of piety.
The fourth natural society is the household, which is composed of all the societies
mentioned above - some or all. Its purpose is man's daily needs.
The fifth natural society is civil society. If this is small, it is called a city; a province is
a society of different cities, and a kingdom or a great dominion is a society of different
provinces - all to achieve happiness or to be secure in it. The members of a civil
society sometimes live together in a city, sometimes spread out over the land. Its
purpose is temporal welfare.
The sixth natural society is the church of God, which would probably have existed
among men even without revelation and have been preserved by pious and holy men.
Its purpose is eternal happiness. No one need wonder that I call it a natural society,
since there is a natural religion and a desire for immortality implanted within us. This
society of the saints is catholic or universal and binds the entire human race together.
If a revelation is added, this bond is not tom apart but merely strengthened by it.
A CLASSIFICATION OF SOCIETIES OR COMMUNITIES
Every society is equal or unequal. It is equal when one has as much power in it as
another, unequal when one rules over another.
Every society is either unlimited or limited. An unlimited society concerns the whole
life and the common good. A limited society concerns certain purposes, for example,
trade and commerce, navigation, warfare, and travel.
An unlimited equal society exists between true friends. Particularly does such a
society exist between man and wife, between parents and grown children, between
masters and freedmen, and in general between all intelligent men who have an ade-
quate acquaintance with each other.
An unlimited unequal society exists between rulers and their subjects. Such rule
occurs for the sake either of improvement or of conservation. If for the sake of im-
provement, it really takes place between parents and children, and also between us and
those whom we accept in the place of children, or whom we so rear that they receive
their welfare from us and are under our rule alone. It has no place between teacher
and pupil, since the latter is subject to the former only in a certain degree or way,
while we are here talking about an unlimited society which involves the whole life and
welfare. Brutish men are grown children. But if such rule is for the sake of conservation,
it exists between master and servant and consists in the master assuring the servant's
welfare, while the servant submits to the master's rule.
All these societies are simple or composite, and also between few or many men.
Hence all unlimited societies or communities [Lebensgesellschaften] can be reduced to
certain points, namely, to education and instruction, rule and obedience, friendship
and co-operation, etc.
To the extent that they have been reared, children already owe obedience as far as

their powers permit, and as they grow in understanding, they owe friendship and
assistance to the master as well, even though their education is not completed.
Man and wife are bound by nature to friendship and mutual aid [Lebenshiilfe] in a
brotherly way. Similarly parents and children, and also relatives and people in a
community, must have an understanding of each other, for to friendship belongs un-
derstanding.
One who is himself being educated may educate, and one who is ruled may at the
same time rule. But in this case there must be subordination.
All unlimited societies do indeed aim at welfare, but they cannot always achieve it.
Hence more and more societies have had to unite and build greater and stronger
societies. Thus households, clans, villages, monasteries, orders, cities, provinces,
and finally the whole human race, which also constitutes a community under the rule
of God.
If everything in the world were arranged in the most perfect way, then first of all,
parents, children, and relatives would be the best of friends, and whole families would
have chosen an art of living, would have arranged all that they have to this end, would
abide in it and continue to perfect themselves in their art and direct their children to
the same end. They would marry people of the same calling in order to be united
through education from their parents. These clans would make up guilds or castes out
of which cities would arise; these would enter into provinces, and all countries, finally,
would stand under the church of God.
REFERENCES
1 Cf. p. 138, note 3. Jus may be translated either as Right or as Law, depending upon the
context.
2 Cameades' statement is found in Cicero De rep. iii. 23, though Leibniz seems to have taken
it from Grotius.
3 Leibniz here anticipated the bitter debate on the issue of disinterested love, which broke out
between Fenelon and Bossuet (cf. p. 328, note 6) after the appearance of the former's Expli-
cation des maximes des saints sur la vie interieure in 1697. Fenelon asserted that pure love must
"exclude every interested motive" and that "the soul must make the absolute sacrifice of its
self-interest for eternity'~. The theological conflict which followed led to Fenelon's banishment
from the court in August, 1697, and the pope's condemnation of the Explication in March, 1699
(see A. Cherel, Fenelon ou la religion du pure amour, 1934). On Leibniz's conception of the
relation between law and theology see the concluding section of No. 1.
4 See No.2. The three precepts of Law are in Ulpian Institutes i. i. 3.
5 Hugo Grotius, Dejure belli et pacis, I, i, 5. We use Whewell's translation of the termsfacultas
and aptitudo, which correspond in general to 'strict' legal right and to moral right, respectively.
6 The follo~ing paragraphs are not given by G. but are taken from the Codex juris gentium
diplomaticus (Hanover 1693) itself. The Preface does not have numbered pages.
7 From the third page (unnumbered) of the Preface to the Mantissa codicis juris gentium diplo-
matici (Hanover 1700) a supplementary miscellany of political and diplomatic documents from
the medieval and modem periods.
8 See note 3 above.
9 For the quietist movement of the 17th century and Miguel de Molinos see p. 328, note 6.
Valentine Weigel, Evangelical pastor and mystic (1533-88), wrote many mystical works and
had attributed to him many which he did not write. New editions of works attributed to him
were appearing at Amsterdam and at Frankfurt in the years at the end of the 17th and the
beginning of the 18th century. The Cherubinischer Wandersmann of 'Angelus Silesius' appeared
in its second edition (the first to bear this title) in 1675.
10 Fenelon's drama Telemaque had appeared in 1699.
11 The date of this paper, written in German, is uncertain, though Guh. DS. places it in the
last decade of the 17th century, "when Leibniz stood at the height of his philosophical con-
victions". He had written a French 'de la Sagesse'in the Paris period (G., VII, 82ff), and was
occupied with such statements of his ethics throughout his life. This paper is obviously address-
ed to 'persons of rank' and contains echoes of the tragedies undergone by the house of
Hanover at this time.
12 Family disasters were striking at the court of Hanover in the early nineties: the deaths of the
Princes Frederick August and Karl Philip in battle in 1690; the abortive attempt of Maximilian,
the youngest son of Ernest August, to break the newly established law of primogeniture, which
failed in 1691; and the notorious Konigsmark incident leading to the divorce of George Louis,
later George I, king of England, and to the exile of his wife Dorothea, in 1694.
13 These are Leibniz's notes on John Felden, Elementa juris universi et in specie publici Jus-
tiniani, Frankfurt 1664, I, i. Fe1den's jurisprudence is Aristotelian and directed against Hobbes.
45
ON THE CORRECTION OF METAPHYSICS AND THE

CONCEPT OF SUBSTANCE
Acta eruditorum, March, 1694
Leibniz's increasing inclination to publish his philosophical conclusions is shown in this

brief article inserted in the Leipzig scholarly journal. In it he urges greater exactness in
metaphysics and distinguishes his conception of active force from the ambiguous Scho-
lastic principle of power. The article led to a correspondence with John Christopher
Sturm on the problem of substance, of which No. 53, On Nature Itself, was one result.
[G., IV, 468-70]
I find that most people who take pleasure in the mathematical sciences shrink away
from metaphysics, because they find light in the former but darkness in the latter.
The most important reason for this, I believe, is that general concepts which are
thought to be very well known to everyone have become ambiguous and obscure
through the carelessness and changeableness of human thinking and that the definitions
commonly given of these concepts are not even nominal definitions and in fact explain
nothing. And there is no doubt that this has spread to other fields subordinate to this
primary and architectonic discipline. So instead of clear definitions, we make trivial
distinctions, and, in place of truly universal axioms, we set up limited rules [regulae
topicae] which are more frequently broken by exceptions than supported by examples.
Yet by a sort of necessity men continue to use metaphysical terms and, flattering
themselves, believe that they understand the words they have learned to say. It is
obvious that the true and fruitful concepts, not only of substance, but of cause, action,
relation, similarity, and many other general terms as well, are hidden from popular
understanding. No one should be astonished, therefore, that this regal science, which
goes by the name of 'first philosophy', and which Aristotle called desired or sought-
after [Cl1fOV!livl1], has hitherto remained to be sought. Plato, of course, studies the
force of concepts throughout his dialogues, and Aristotle does the same in the books
which are commonly called the Metaphysics, but it does not seem that much was
accomplished. The later Platonists lapsed into uttering omens, and the Aristotelians,
especially the Scholastics, cared more about asking questions than about answering
them. Some distinguished men in our own times have also set their minds on meta-
physics, but so far without great success. It cannot be denied that Descartes has con-
tributed some admirable things. Above all, he both rightly restored the study of
Plato by leading the mind away from the senses and thereupon also added to it the
doubts of the Academy. But he missed the mark because of a certain wavering or a
license in making assertions and failed to distinguish the certain from the uncertain.
And so he absurdly put the nature of corporeal substance in extension. Nor did he
have any sound understanding of the union of soul and body. The cause of these
errors was a failure to understand the nature of substance in general. For he proceeded
to the solution of the most serious questions in a kind of leap, without having explain-
ed the concepts involved. Thus the failure of his Meditations on Metaphysics to achieve
certainty is nowhere more apparent than in the writing in which, urged by Mersenne
and others, he tried in vain to clothe them in mathematical dress. 1 I know that other
men as well, of outstanding insight, have touched upon metaphysics and thought
profoundly about some matters, but they have enveloped them in such darkness that
they seem to have used divination rather than demonstrations. Yet it seems to me that
light and certainty are more needed in metaphysics than in mathematics itself, be-
cause mathematical matters carry their own tests and verification with them, this
being the strongest reason for success in mathematics. But in metaphysics we lack this
advantage entirely. And so a certain distinctive order of procedure is necessary, which,
like a thread in a labyrinth, will serve us, no less than the method of Euclid, to analyze
our questions in the form of a calculus, yet nonetheless preserve the clarity which
should never be lacking from popular speech.
The importance of these matters will be particularly apparent from the concept of
substance which I offer. This is so fruitful that there follow from it primary truths,
even about God and minds and the nature of bodies - truths heretofore known in
part though hardly demonstrated, and unknown in part, but of the greatest utility
for the future in the other sciences. To give a foretaste of this, I will say for the
present that the concept of forces or powers, which the Germans call Kraft and
the French ta force, and for whose explanation I have set up a distinct science of
dynamics, brings the strongest light to bear upon our understanding of the true con-
cept of substance. Active force differs from the mere power familiar to the Schools, for
the active power or faculty of the Scholastics is nothing but a close [propinqua] possi-
bility of acting, which needs an external excitation or a stimulus, as it were, to be
transferred into action. Active force, in contrast, contains a certain act or entelechy
and is thus midway between the faculty of acting and the act itself and involves a
conatus. It is thus carried into action by itself and needs no help but only the removal
of an impediment. 2 This can be illustrated by the example of a heavy hanging body
which strains at the rope which holds it or by a bent bow. For though gravity and
elasticity can and ought to be explained mechanically by the motion of the ether, the
ultimate reason for motion in matter is nevertheless the force impressed upon it in
creation, which inheres in every body but is variously limited and restrained in nature
through the impact of bodies upon each other. I say that this power of acting inheres in
all substance and that some action always arises from it, so that the corporeal sub-
stance itself does not, any more than spiritual substance, ever cease to act. This seems
not to have been perceived clearly by those who have found the essence of bodies to be
in extension, alone or together with the addition of impenetrability, and who seem to
conceive of bodies as absolutely at rest. It will be apparent from our meditations that
one created substance receives from another created substance, not the force of acting
itself, but only the limits and the determination of its own pre-existent striving or
power of action. Not to speak now of other matters, I shall leave the solution of the
difficult problem of the mutual action of substances upon each other for the future. 3

REFERENCES
1 In the Responsio ad secundas objectiones (ed. Adam and Tannery, VII, 160-70).
2 The difference between Leibniz's conception of an originating force and the Scholastic
concept of a capacity or the possibility of action is thus clear. But as primary force something
of the Scholastic notion is retained in his system, since this force inheres potentially in the
concept of the individual. The concept of force is more fully developed in No. 46, Part I.
3 See No. 47.
46
SPECIMEN DYNAMICUM
1695
While in Italy Leibniz had written an extensive Dynamics (GM., VI, 281-514) which
summarized his criticism of Descartes's physical principles and at the same time supple-
mented what he regarded as an incompleteness in Newton's hypotheses. The manuscript
of this work he left at Florence with the Baron Bodenhausen, tutor of the sons of the
Duke of Tuscany, with the intention ofpublishing it after it had undergone the criticism of
hisfriends (see his letter toL'Hospital, January 15,1696 [GM., II, 305-11]). Thepresent
work is a summary of this longer one, made in response to a general demand for his new
ideas. Part I was printed in the Acta eruditorum in April, 1695; the second part remained
unpublished and was found by Gerhardt among the Hanover manuscripts. The two parts
together comprise a mature statement of Leibniz's theory of dynamics.
SPECIMEN DYNAMICUM; FOR TH'E DISCOVERY OF THE ADMIRABLE LAWS OF

NATURE CONCERNING CORPOREAL FORCES, THEIR MUTUAL ACTIONS, AND
THEIR REDUCTION TO THEIR CAUSES
[GM., VI, 234-54]

Part I
Since we first mentioned a new science of dynamics, which was still to be founded,
many prominent men in various places have asked for a fuller explanation of its
teachings. But as we have not yet found leisure to write a book, we shall here set down
some things which may cast some light on it - light which will be returned to us with
interest if we succeed in eliciting the opinions of men who combine force of insight
with distinction of style. We confess that their judgment will be most welcome and
we hope, useful in advancing the perfection of the work.
We have suggested elsewhere that there is something besides extension in corporeal
things; indeed, that there is something prior to extension, namely, a natural force
everywhere implanted by the Author of nature - a force which does not consist merely
in a simple faculty such as that with which the Scholastics seem to have contented
themselves but which is provided besides with a striving or effort [conatus seu nisus]
which has its full effect unless impeded by a contrary striving. 1 This nisus sometimes
appears to the senses, and is in my opinion to be understood on rational grounds, as
present everywhere in matter, even where it does not appear to sense. But if we cannot
ascribe it to God by some miracle, it is certainly necessary that this force be produced
by him within bodies themselves. 2 Indeed, it must constitute the inmost nature of the
body, since it is the character of substance to act, and extension means only the conti-
nuation or diffusion of an already presupposed acting and resisting substance. So far
is extension itself from comprising substance!
It is beside the point here that all corporeal action arises from motion and that mo-

tion itself comes only from other motion already existing in the body or impressed
upon it from without. For like time, motion taken in an exact sense never exists, be-
cause a whole does not exist if it has no coexisting parts. Thus there is nothing real
in motion itself except that momentaneous state which must consist of a force striving
toward change. Whatever there is in corporeal nature besides the object of geometry,
or extension, must be reduced to this force. This reasoning does justice, at last, both to
truth and to the teachings of the ancients. Our age has already saved from contempt
the corpuscles of Democritus, the ideas of Plato, and the tranquillity of the Stoics
which arises from the best possible connection [nexus] of things; now we shall reduce the
Peripatetic tradition of forms or entelechies, which has rightly seemed enigmatic and
scarcely understood by its authors themselves, to intelligible concepts. Thus we be-
lieve that this philosophy, accepted for so many centuries, must not be discarded but
be explained in a way that makes it consistent within itself (where this is possible) and
clarifies and amplifies it with new truths.
This method of study seems to me best suited both for the wisdom of the teacher and
for the advancement of the learners; we must guard against being more eager to destroy
than to construct, and against being tossed about uncertainly, as if by the wind,
among the perpetually changing teachings put forth by certain freethinkers. Then
after it has curbed the passion of sects, which is stimulated by the vain lust for novelty,
mankind will at length advance with firm steps to ultimate principles in philosophy no
less than in mathematics. For if we overlook entirely the harsher things which they say
against others, the writings of outstanding men, both ancient and modem, usually
contain many true and good things which deserve to be collected and arranged in the
public treasury of knowledge. Would that men might choose to do this rather than to
waste their time with criticisms that serve only to satisfy their own vanity. Indeed,
though fortune has so favored me with the discovery of certain new things of my own
that friends often urge me to think only about these, I nevertheless find pleasure in
the views of others and appraise each according to its own worth, however this may
vary. This may be because I have learned in my widespread activities not to despise
anything. But now let us get back on the road.
Active force, which may well be called power, as it is by some, is of two kinds. The
first is primitive force, which is in all corporeal substance as such, since I believe that a
body entirely at rest is contrary to the nature of things. The second is derivative force,
which is exercised in various ways through a limitation of primitive force resulting
from the conflict of bodies with each other. Primitive force, which is nothing but the
first entelechy, corresponds to the soul or substantial form, but for this very reason it
relates only to general causes which cannot suffice to explain phenomena. Therefore
I agree with those who deny that forms are to be used in investigating the specific and
special causes of sensible things. 3 This I must emphasize to make it clear that in res-
toring to the forms their proper function of revealing the sources of things to us, I am
not trying to return to the word battles of the more popular Scholastics. A knowledge
of forms is necessary, meanwhile, for philosophizing rightly, and no one can claim to
have grasped the nature of body adequately unless he has paid some attention to such
things and has come to understand that the crude concept of a corporeal substance
which depends only on sensory imagery and has recently been carelessly introduced by
an abuse of the corpuscular philosophy (which is excellent and most true in itself) is
imperfect, not to say false. 4 This can also be shown by considering that such a concept
of body does not exclude cessation or rest from matter and cannot provide reasons for
the laws of nature which apply to derivative force.
Passive force is likewise of two kinds - primitive and derivative. The primitive force
of suffering or of resisting constitutes the very thing which the Scholastics call materia
prima, if rightly interpreted. It brings it about, namely, that one body is not penetrated
by another but opposes an obstacle to it and is at the same time possessed of a kind of
laziness, so to speak, or a repugnance to motion, and so does not allow itself to be set
in motion without somewhat breaking the force of the body acting upon it. Hence the
derivative force of suffering thereafter shows itself in various ways in secondary matter. 5
But setting aside these general and primary considerations, and having established
the fact that every body acts by virtue of its form and suffers or resists by virtue of its
matter, we must now proceed to the doctrine of derivative forces and resistances and
discuss the question of how bodies prevail over or resist each other in various ways
by their varied impulses. For to these derivative forces apply the laws of action, which
are not only known by reason but also verified by sense itself through phenomena.
Here, therefore, we understand by derivative force, or the force by which bodies
actually act and are acted upon by each other, only that force which is connected with
motion (local motion, that is) and which in turn tends to produce further local motion.
For we admit that all other material phenomena can be explained through local
motion. Motion is the continuous change of place and thus requires time. But as the
moving body has its motion in time, so it has a velocity at every moment of time, a
velocity which is the greater in the degree that more space is passed through in less
expenditure of time. This velocity along with direction is called conatus. Impetus,
however, consists in the product of the mass [molis] 6 of the body by its velocity, and so
its quantity is that which Cartesians usually call the quantity of motion, that is, the
momentaneous quantity, although speaking more accurately, the quantity of motion,
having an existence in time, is an integral of the impetuses (whether equal or unequal)
existing in the moving body multiplied by the corresponding intervals of time. In our
debate with the Cartesians, however, we have followed their way of speaking. Yet
in the scientific use of terms, as we may conveniently distinguish an increase which has
already taken place, or one still to come, from one which is now occurring, designating
this latter as the increment or element of the increase; so we can distinguish the falling
of a body at the present moment from the fall which has already taken place which it
increases. So we can also distinguish the present or instantaneous element of motion
from the motion extended through time and call it 'motion'. Then what is popularly
called motion would be called quantity of motion. But although we can readily comply
with any accepted terminology after its meaning is established, we must be careful
about terms until this is done, in order not to be misled by their ambiguity. 7
Furthermore, just as the calculation of motion carried out through time is integrated
from an infinite number of impetuses, so in turn the impetus itself (even though it is a
momentaneous thing) arises from a succession of an infinite number of impacts on the
same moving body; so it too contains a certain element from which it can arise only
through infinite repetitions. Assume a tube AC rotating about a fixed center C with a
definite uniform velocity and in the horizontal plane of this page (Figure 29). Assume
a ball B moving within the tube without any chain or impediment and hence beginning
to move by centrifugal force. It is obvious that the beginning of the conatus of receding
from the center (the conatus, namely, by which the ball B tends toward the end of the

tube A) is infinitely small with respect to the impetus which it already has from the
rotation or that by which the ball B tends from D to D' along with the tube itself, while
retaining its distance from the center. But if the centrifugal impulsion proceeding from
the rotation is continued for some time, there must arise in the ball, from its own pro-
gression, a certain complete centrifugal impetus D'B' comparable to the impetus of
rotation DD'. Hence the nisus is obviously twofold, an elementary or infinitely small
one which I also call a solicitation and one formed by the continuation or repetition
of these elementary impulsions, that is, the impetus itself. But I do not mean that
these mathematical entities are really found in nature as such but merely that they are
means of making accurate calculations of an abstract mental kind.
A
c
Fig. 29.
Hence force is also of two kinds: the one elementary, which I also call dead force 8,
because motion does not yet exist in it but only a solicitation to motion, such as that
of the ball in the tube or a stone in a sling even while it is still held by the string; the
other is ordinary force combined with actual motion, which I call living force [vis viva].
An example of dead force is centrifugal force, and likewise the force of gravity or
centripetal force; also the force with which a stretched elastic body begins to restore
itself. But in impact, whether this arises from a heavy body which has been falling for
some time, or from a bow which has been restoring itself for some time, or from some
similar cause, the force is living and arises from an infinite number of continuous im-
pressions of dead force. This is what Galileo meant when in an enigmatic way, he
called the force of impact infinite as compared with the simple impulsion of gravity.
But even though impetus is always combined with living force, the two are nonetheless
different, as we shall show below.
Living force in any aggregate of bodies can further be understood in two senses -
namely, as total and partial. Partial force in turn is either relative or directive, that is,
either proper to the parts themselves or common to all. Respective or proper force is
that by which the bodies included in an aggregate can interact upon each other;
directive or common force is that by which the aggregate can itself also act externally. I
call this 'directive' because the integral force of total direction is conserved in this par-
tial force. Moreover, if it were assumed that the aggregate should suddenly become
rigid by the cessation of the motion of the parts relative to each other, this alone would be
left. Thus absolute total force is composed of relative and directive force taken to-
gether. But this can be understood better from the rules to be treated below. 9
So far as we know, the ancients had a knowledge of dead force only, and it is this
which is commonly called mechanics, which deals with the lever, the pulley, the in-
clined plane (applicable to the wedge and screw), the equilibrium ofliquids, and similar
matters concerned only with the primary conatus of bodies in itself, before they take
on an impetus through action. Although the laws of dead force can be carried over,
in a certain way, to living force, yet great caution is necessary, for it is at this point
that those who confused force in general with the quantity resulting from the product
of mass by velocity were misled because they saw that dead force is proportional to
these factors. As we pointed out long ago, this happens for a special reason, namely,
that when for example, different heavy bodies fall, the descent itself or the quantities of
space passed through in the descent are, at the very beginning of motion while they
remain infinitely small or elementary, proportional to the velocities or to the conatuses
of descent. But when some progress has been made and living force has developed, the
acquired velocities are no longer proportional to the spaces already passed through in
the descent but only to their elements. lo Yet we have already shown, and will show
more fully, that the force must be calculated in terms of these spaces themselves.
Though he used another name, and indeed, another concept, Galileo began the
treatment of living force and was the first to explain how motion arises from the accele-
ration of heavy falling bodies. Descartes rightly distinguished between velocity and
direction and also saw that in the collision of bodies that state results which least
changes the prior conditions. But he did not rightly estimate this minimum change,
since he changes either the direction alone or the velocity alone, while the whole change
must be determined by the joint effect of both together. He failed to see how this was
possible, however, because two such heterogeneous things did not seem to him to be
capable of comparison or of simultaneous treatment - he being concerned with mo-
dalities rather than with realities in this connection l l ; not to speak of his other errors
in his teachings on this problem.
Honoratius Fabri, Marcus Marci, John Alph. Borelli, Ignatius Baptista Pardies,
Claude Deschales, and other most acute men have given us things that are not to be de-
spised in the doctrine of motion, yet they have not avoided these capital errors.12 So far
as I know, Huygens, whose brilliant discoveries have enlightened our age, was also the
first to arrive at the pure and transparent truth in this matter, and to free this doctrine
from fallacies, by formulating certain rules which were published long ago. Almost the
same rules were obtained by Wren, Wallis, and Mariotte, all excellent men in this field,
though in differing measure. 13 But there is no unity of opinion about the causes; hence
men who are outstanding in these studies do not always accept the same conclusions.
It would seem, indeed, that the true foundations of this science have not yet been

revealed. Not everyone has accepted the proposition which seems certain to me - that
rebound or reflection results only from elastic force, that is, from the resistance offered
by an internal motion. Nor has anyone before me explained the concept of forces
itself, a matter which has always disturbed the Cartesians and others who could not
understand that the sum of motion or of impetuses, which they take for the quantity
of forces, can be different after collision than it was before, because they believed that
such a change would change the quantity of forces as well.
While I was still a youth and followed Democritus, and Gassendi and Descartes, his
disciples in this matter, in holding that the nature of body consists in inert mass alone,
I brought out a small book entitled A PhYSical Hypothesis, in which I expounded a
theory of both abstract and concrete motion. This writing seems to have pleased
many distinguished men far more than its mediocrity deserved. There I set up the pro-
position that assuming this conception of the nature of body to be true, every
colliding body must give its conatus to the body receiving the blow or directly
opposing it as such. For since it tries to proceed in the moment of impact, and thus to
carry the opposing body with it, and (because of the indifference to motion and rest
which I then held bodies to have) this conatus must have its full effect upon the oppo-
sing body unless it is impeded by a contrary conatus, and indeed, even if it is impeded,
since these diverse conatuses must be compounded with each other, it was obvious that
no reason could be given why the colliding body should not attain the effect to which it
strives, or why the opposing body should not receive the full conatus of the colliding
one, so that the motion of the opposing body would be compounded of its own original
motion and of that newly received from the external conatus. From this I showed
further that if the body is understood in mathematical terms only - magnitude, figure,
position, and their change - and conatus is admitted only at the moment of impact
itself, no use being made of metaphysical notions such as active power in form, or of
passive power and resistance to motion in matter, if therefore it is necessary to deter-
mine the outcome of the collision solely by the geometric composition of conatuses, as
I have explained; then it must follow that the conatus of even the smallest colliding
body must be transmitted to even the largest receiving body, and thus that the largest
body at rest will be carried away by a colliding body, no matter how small, without
any retardation of its motion, since such a notion of matter involves no resistance to
motion but rather indifference to it. Thus it would be no more difficult to move a large
body than a small one, and hence there would be action without reaction, and no
estimation of power would be possible, since anything could be accomplished by
any thing. 14 Since this and many other matters of the same kind are contrary to the
order of things, and in conflict with the principles of a true metaphysics, I believed at
that time (and indeed, rightly) that in this construction of the system the most wise
Author of things had particularly avoided these things which would have followed per
se from the bare laws of motion derived from pure geometry.
Later, however, after I had examined everything more thoroughly, I saw wherein the
systematic explanation of things consists and discovered that my earlier hypothesis
about the definition of a body was incomplete. In this very fact, along with other argu-
ments, I found a proof that something more than magnitude and impenetrability must
be assumed in body, from which an interpretation of forces may arise. By adding the
metaphysical laws of this factor to the laws of extension, there arise those rules of
motion which I should call systematic - namely, that all change occurs gradually, that
every action involves a reaction, that no new force is produced without diminishing the
earlier force, so that a body which carries another with it is retarded by the body
carried away, and that there is neither more nor less power in the effect than in the
cause. Since this law is not derived from the concept of mass, it must follow from
something else which is in bodies, namely, from force itself, which always preserves the
same quantity even though it is used by different bodies. I concluded, therefore, that
besides purely mathematical principles subject to the imagination, there must be ad-
mitted certain metaphysical principles perceptible only by the mind and that a certain
higher and so to speak, formal principle must be added to that of material mass, since
all the truths about corporeal things cannot be derived from logical and geometrical
axioms alone, namely, those of great and small, whole and part, figure and situation,
but that there must be added those of cause and effect, action and passion, in order to
give a reasonable account of the order of things. Whether we call this principle form,
entelechy, or force does not matter provided that we remember that it can be explained
intelligibly only through the concept of forces.
I cannot agree with certain prominent men today, however, who see the inade-
quacy of the popular concept of matter, but call in God ex machina and remove all
force of action from things themselves, as is done in a work on the Mosaic Philosophy,
as Fludd called it. For although I should agree that they have shown clearly that there
can be no distinct influx of one created substance into another, if the matter is taken in
metaphysical rigor, and I also admit freely that all things arise by a continuous creation
from God, yet I think that there is no natural truth in things for which we must find the
reason in the divine action or will but that God has always put into things themselves
some properties by which all their predicates can be explained. Certainly God has
created not only bodies but also souls, to which the primitive entelechies correspond.
But I shall demonstrate these matters elsewhere by following out their proper reasons
more thoroughly.
Meanwhile, even though I hold that an active principle which is superior to material
concepts and so to speak, vital exists everywhere in bodies, I do not agree with Henry
More and other men distinguished for piety and spirit, who make use of some
Archeus - I know not what - or hylarchic principle, even to explain phenomena; as if
there are some things in nature which cannot be explained mechanically and as if
those who undertake a mechanical explanation aim to deny incorporeal beings, with
a suspicion of impiety - or as if it were necessary to appoint intelligences for the re-
volving starry orbs as Aristotle did, or to say that the elements are driven upward and
downward by their own form, a teaching that is certainly as naive as it is fruitIess. 1 5
With these things, I say, I do not agree, and this philosophy pleases me no more than
the theology of those who believed so firmly that Jupiter thunders and snows that they
even branded those who sought after the specific causes of these things with the crime
of atheism. In my judgment the best answer, which satisfies piety and science alike, is to
acknowledge that all phenomena are indeed to be explained by mechanical efficient
causes but that these mechanical laws are themselves to be derived in general from
higher reasons and that we thus use a higher efficient cause only to establish the general
and remote principles. Once this is established, we need not admit entelechies any
more than we admit superfluous faculties or inexplicable sympathies, as long as we
are dealing only with the immediate and particular efficient causes of natural things.
For the first and most universal efficient cause must not enter into special problems,

aside from our viewing the ends to which the Divine Wisdom adhered in ordering
things in such a way, lest we neglect any opportunity to sing the most beautiful hymns
in his praise.
In fact, as I have shown by the remarkable example of the principles of optics, the
celebrated Molyneux having warmly approved my interpretation in his Dioptrics 16 ,
final causes may be introduced with great fruitfulness even into the special problems
of physics, not merely to increase our admiration for the most beautiful works of the
supreme Author, but also to help us make predictions by means of them which would
not be as apparent, except perhaps hypothetically, through the use of efficient causes.
Philosophers have in the past perhaps not sufficiently observed this advantage of final
causes. It must be maintained in general that all existent facts can be explained in two
ways - through a kingdom ofpower or effiCient causes and through a kingdom of wisdom
or final causes; that God regulates bodies as machines in an architectural manner accor-
ding to laws of magnitude or of mathematics but does so for the benefit of souls and
that he rules over souls, on the other hand, which are capable of wisdom, as over
citizens and members of the same society with himself, in the manner of a prince or
indeed of a father, ruling to his own glory according to the laws of goodness or of
morality. Thus these two kingdoms everywhere permeate each other, yet their laws are
never confused and never disturbed, so that the maximum in the kingdom of power,
and the best in the kingdom of wisdom, take place together. But here we have underta-
ken to set up the general rules for effective forces, which we can then use in explaining
special efficient causes.
Next I arrived at a true estimation of forces and at exactly the same one, moreover,
by widely different ways. One was a priori, based on the most simple consideration of
space, time, and action; this I shall explain elsewhere. The other was a posteriori, by
calculating force by the effect it produces in expending itself. For by effect I mean here
not any effect whatever but that for which force is expended or consumed and which
may therefore be called violent. The force which a heavy body exercises in moving
along a perfectly horizontal plane is not of this kind, because however far such an
effect is prolonged, it always retains the same force, and though we use the same prin-
ciple in calculating this effect also, which we may call harmless, we now exclude it
from consideration. Moreover, I choose that particular form of violent force which is
most capable of homogeneity or of division into similar and equal parts, such as is
found in the ascent of a body endowed with gravity. For the elevation of a heavy body
to 2 or 3 feet is exactly double or triple the elevation of the same weight to 1 foot.
Hence the elevation of a body twice as heavy to 3 feet is exactly six times as great
as the elevation of a simple body for 1 foot, assuming of course, for the sake of
exposition, that heavy bodies have the same weight at different heights, for though this
is not true in fact, the error will be imperceptible. Homogeneity is not so easily estab-
lished in elastic bodies. Therefore, since I wanted to compare bodies with different
masses and different velocities, I saw of course that if body A is a simple unit and body
B twice as large, but the velocity is equal in the two cases, the force of the former
must be a simple unit and that of the latter double, since whatever is assumed to occur
once in the former must be taken to occur exactly twice in the latter. For in B the
matter is twice the equal and equivalent of A, and nothing more. But if the bodies A
and C are equal, but the velocity of A is simple and that of C twice as large, I saw
that the properties of A would not be exactly doubled in C, since, though the velocity
is doubled, the body is not also. I saw that an error had been committed here by those
who think that force is itself doubled merely by the doubling of a property. I have
already observed and explained long ago that we do not yet have the true art of cal-
culating in spite of the many 'Elements of Universal Mathematics' that have been
written and that this art consists in arriving at length at homogeneous things, that is,
at an accurate and complete duplication of things as well as their properties. No
better or more illuminating example of this method can be given than the one shown
in this argument. 1 7
In order to obtain these results, therefore, I considered whether these two bodies,
equal in magnitude but different in velocity, could produce any effects that were both
equipollent with their causes and homogeneous with each other. In this way things
which cannot easily be compared directly can at least be compared accurately through
their effects. I assumed that an effect must be equal to its cause if the entire force is
expended or consumed in producing it; the length of time taken to produce the effect
does not matter here. Assume therefore that bodies A and C are equally heavy and
that their force is converted into an ascent, as happens if they are understood to be
at the ends of vertical pendulums P A and EC at the moment at which they receive the
given velocities, A's velocity being simple and C's twice as large (Figure 30). But the
P E
demonstrations of Galileo and others have established the fact that if body A, with a
velocity of 1, ascends to a maximum height A zH of 1 foot over the horizontal, the
body C, with a velocity of 2, will ascend to a height C 2R of 4 feet. Hence it follows
that a heavy body whose velocity is double that of another has a force four times
that of the other, since the expenditure of all its force can accomplish exactly four
times as much. In lifting 1 pound (that is, itself) 4 feet, it lifts 1 pound 1 foot exactly
four times. In the same way we can conclude in general that the forces of equal bodies
are proportional to the squares of their velocities and that the forces of bodies in
general are proportional, compositely, to their simple masses and the squares of their
velocities.
I have confirmed the same thing by reducing the contrary opinion, which is popu-
larly accepted, especially among the Cartesians, to an absurdity, namely, to perpetual
motion. According to this opinion, forces are believed to be proportional to the pro-

ducts of their masses and velocities. I have also sometimes used this method to give an
a posteriori definition of two states unequal in force and at the same time to provide a
sure criterion for distinguishing the greater from the smaller. If by substituting either
for the other, we can get a perpetual mechanical motion or an effect greater than its
cause, then these forces are not in the least equipollent, but that which was substituted
for the other was more powerful, since it brought something greater to pass. I assume
it to be certain, however, that nature never substitutes for forces something unequal to
them but that the whole effect is always equal to the full cause. Thus we, in turn, can
safely substitute things which are equal to these forces in our reckoning, freely assu-
ming that this is just as if we actually carried out the substitution itself, without any
fear 18 of perpetual mechanical motion. If it were true, as men are commonly persua-
ded, that a heavy body A of magnitude 2 (for this is now our assumption) and velocity
1, and heavy body C with magnitude 1 and velocity 2, are equipollent to each other
we should be able to substitute one for the other with impunity - a thing which is not
true. For let us assume that A, with magnitude 2, has acquired a velocity of 1 in its
descent A 2A 1 from the height A 2H, which is 1 foot1 9 ; and then let us substitute for it,
as it exists on the level of A h the weight C (which they claim is equipollent to it) with
magnitude 1 and velocity 2, which ascends to C 2, a height of 4 feet. Thus, merely by
the descent of a 2-pound weight A from the height of 1 foot A 2H, we have, by substi-
tuting its supposed equipollential, brought about a rise of 1 pound to 4 feet, which is
double the former effect. Therefore we have gained this much force or achieved a
perpetual mechanical motion, which is absurd. Whether we can actually accomplish
this substitution through the laws of motion is irrevelant, for equipollents can safely
be substituted for each other in the mind. But I have also thought out various methods
by which we can actually carry out, as nearly as we wish, the transfer of the whole
force of the body A to the body C, previously at rest, so that C alone is placed in
motion while A is brought to rest. The result should be that to the double weight of
velocity 1 there would succeed a I-pound weight with velocity 2, if these are equi-
pollent, and as we have shown, an absurdity arises from this. These considerations are
not worthless, nor are they merely verbal, for they have important applications in the
comparison of machines and motions. For if enough force is received, from water
power, animals, or some other cause, to keep a heavy body of 100 pounds in constant
motion, so that it can complete a horizontal circle 30 feet in diameter in a fourth of a
minute, and someone claims that a weight twice as large put in its place would complete
half the circle in the same time, and with less expenditure of power, and claims that
this means a profit to you, you may know that you are being deceived and are losing half
of the force. But having now put these errors to flight, we will propound the true and
genuinely admirable laws of nature a little more distinctly in the second part of this
study.20
Part II
The fact that the nature of body, and indeed of substance in general, is not well enough
understood has resulted, as we have already suggested, in outstanding philosophers of
our time locating the notion of body in extension alone and being driven therefore to
take refuge in God to explain the union between soul and body and even the communi-
cation between bodies themselves. For it must be admitted that it is impossible for
mere extension, which involves only geometric concepts, to be capable of action and
passion. So only one possibility seemed to remain for them - that when man thinks
and starts to move his arm, God, as if by an original agreement, moves his arm for
him; and conversely, that when there is a motion in the blood and animal spirits,
God excites a perception in the soul. But such views are foreign to the true method of
philosophizing and should have shown their authors that they were depending on a
false principle and had not set up a correct concept of substance, since such conse-
quences followed from it. We show, therefore, that there is in every substance a force
of action and that if it is created substance, there is also a force of suffering. We show
too that the concept of extension is not complete in itself but requires a relation to
something which is extended and whose diffusion or continuous repetition it implies,
and therefore that it presupposes also a bodily substance which involves the power
to act and resist, and which exists everywhere as corporeal mass, the diffusion of which
is contained in extension. Sometime we shall use this view to throw new light on the
union of body and soul. 21 But now we must show that there follow from it wonderful
and most useful practical theorems which apply to dynamics, the science which deals
particularly with the laws of corporeal forces.
First of all, we must recognize that force is something absolutely real even in created
substances but that space, time, and motion have something akin to a mental construc-
tion [de ente rationis) and are not true and real per se but only insofar as they involve the
divine attributes of immensity, eternity, and activity or the force of created substances.
Hence it follows at once that there is no vacuum in space and time; that motion apart
from force (or insofar as it involves only a consideration of the geometric concepts of
magnitude, figure, and their variations) is in fact nothing but change of situation; and
thus that motion insofar as it is phenomenal consists in a mere relationship. Descartes,
too, acknowledged this when he defined it as translation from the position of one
body to the position of another. But he forgot his definition when he deduced its
consequences and set up rules of motion as if motion were something real and absolute.
Therefore, we must hold that if any number of bodies are in motion, we cannot
determine from the phenomena which of them are in absolute determinate motion or
rest; rest can be attributed to anyone of them you may choose, and yet the same pheno-
mena will be produced. It follows therefore (Descartes did not notice this) that the
equivalence of hypotheses is not changed by the impact of bodies upon each other and
that such rules of motion must be set up that the relative nature of motion is saved,
that is, so that the phenomena resulting from the collision provide no basis for deter-
mining where there was rest or determinate absolute motion before the collision. Thus
the rule of Descartes, which claims that a body at rest can in no way be driven
from its place by a smaller body, hardly squares with the truth. He has other rules of
this kind, too, than which nothing is further from the truth. It also folIows from the
relative nature of motion that the action of bodies upon each other or their force ofper-
cussion is the same, prOVided they approach each other at the same velocity. That is to
say, if the given phenomena appear the same, whatever may be the true hypothesis
or however we may ascribe motion or rest to them, the same result will be produced in
the unknown or the resulting phenomena, even with respect to the action of bodies
upon each other. This conforms to our experience; we will feel the same pain whether
our hand strikes a stone which is at rest, suspended from a thread, if you will, or the stone
strikes our hand at rest with the same velocity. Meanwhile we speak as the situation
demands, in whatever way provides the more fitting and simpler explanation of the

phenomena, just as we make use of the motion of a primum mobile in the study of
spheres and must use the Copernican hypothesis in planetary theory. Thus we already
cause those violent arguments which have been carried on with so much energy, even
by theologians, to disappear completely.22 For even though force is something real and
absolute, motion belongs to the class of relative phenomena, and truth is found not so
much in phenomena as in their causes.
From our concepts of body and of forces there arises also this principle - that
whatever happens in substances must be understood to happen spontaneously and in an
orderly way. With this is connected the principle that no change occurs through a leap.
If this is established, it follows also that there can be no atoms. That the force of this
conclusion may be grasped, let us assume that bodies A and B collide, that A 1 comes
to A 2 and B 1 to B 2, and that, colliding at A 2B 2, they are deflected from A 2 to A 3 and
from Bl to B3 (Figure 31). Assuming then, that there are atoms, that is, bodies of
o
81
Fig. 31.
maximum hardness and therefore inflexible, change would obviously occur through
a leap or in a moment, for the direct motion becomes retrograde at the very moment
of collision, unless we assume that the bodies rest instantaneously after the collision,
that is, that they lose their force - a thing which, besides being absurd on other
grounds, would still contain a change through a leap, namely, an instantaneous
change from motion to rest without passing through intermediate degrees. We must
thus recognize that if bodies A and B collide and come from A 1 and B 1 to the place of
collision AlB 2, they are there gradually compressed like two inflated balls, and ap-
proach each other more and more as the pressure is continuously increased; but that
the motion is weakened by this very fact and the force of the conatus carried over into
the elasticity of the bodies, so that they then come entirely to rest (Figure 32). Then as
r---
II
I
!
IL ___ _
Fig. 32.
o
the elasticity of the bodies restores itself, they rebound from each other in a retrograde
motion beginning from rest and increasing continuously, at last regaining the same
velocity with which they had approached each other, but in the opposite direction so
that they regress and return to the positions A 3 and B 3, which coincide with A 1 and
B 1 if the bodies are assumed equal and with equal velocities. From this it is now clear
that no change occurs through a leap but only by a gradually diminished progression
finally reduced to rest, after which regression begins. Just so, one figure is not made
from another (an oval from a circle, for instance) except by innumerable intermediate
figures, and nothing passes from one place to another or from one time to another
except by passing through all the intermediate places or times. Thus rest, and much
less a motion in the opposite direction, cannot come from motion except through all
the intervening degrees of motion. This is of such great importance in nature that I
wonder that it has been so little noticed. There follows also from these matters the
view which Descartes attacked in his letters and which some great men are even now
unwilling to admit - that all rebound arises from elasticity, and a reason is given for
many brilliant experiments which show that a body is bent before it is propelled;
Mariotte has shown this most beautifully. Finally, there follows also that most
admirable principle of all- that there is no body, however small, which has no elas-
ticity and is not thus permeated by a still subtler fluid; and thus that there are no
elementary bodies, nor any most fluid matter, nor any solid globes of some second
element, I know not what; but that analysis proceeds to the infinite.
It is also in agreement with this law of continuity, which excludes a leap from change,
that the case of rest can be considered as a special case of motion, namely, the case of a
disappearing or minimal motion, and that the case of equality can be held for a case
of disappearing inequality. The consequence is that the laws of motion must be set
up in such a way that particular rules are not necessary for equal and resting bodies,
but that these arise from the rules for unequal and moving bodies as such. Or if we
wish to formulate particular rules for rest and equality, we must be careful not to set
up such rules as do not agree with a hypothesis which considers rest as the limit of
motion, and equality as the smallest inequality. Otherwise we shall violate the har-
mony of things, and our rules will not agree with each other. I first published this new
device for testing our own rules and those of others in the Nouvelles de la republique des
lettres for July, 1687, Article 8, and called it a general principle of order arising from
the concept of the infinite and the continuous, adding to this the axiom that as the
data are ordered, the unknowns are also ordered [datis ordinatis etiam quaesita sunt
ordinata]. I expressed the matter universally in this way - if in a given series one value
approaches another value continuously, andat length disappears into it, the results depen-
dent on these values in the unknown series must also necessarily approach each other
continuously and at length end in each other. So in geometry, for example, the case of an
ellipse continuously approaches that of a parabola as one focus remains fixed and the
other is moved farther and farther away, until the ellipse goes over into a parabola
when the focus is removed infinitely. Therefore all the rules for the ellipse must of
necessity be verified in the parabola (understood as an ellipse whose second focus is at
an infinite distance). Hence rays striking a parabola in parallel lines can be conceived
as coming from the other focus or as tending toward it. Therefore, since the case in
which the body A strikes B in motion can be varied continuously in the same way, so
that as the motion of A remains constant, the motion of B can be assumed to be
greater or smaller and at length to disappear into rest and then into increasing motion
in the contrary direction, I maintain that the result of the collision when both are in
motion, whether it be the result in A or in B, must continuously approach the result of
the collision in the case when B is at rest, and must finally merge with it. So the case of

rest in the given series as well as its results in the unknown series is the limit of the
cases of directed motion, or the common limit of linear or continuous motion, and so,
as it were, a special case of both. When I examined the Cartesian rules of motion by
means of this touchstone, which I carried over from geometry into physics, it turned
out that a kind of hiatus or leap was revealed which is contrary to the nature of things,
for when the quantities involved were expressed graphically, the motion of B before
collision in all its cases being taken for the abscissas, and the motion of B after colli-
sion as the unknown, for the ordinates, and a line was drawn through the ordinates ac-
cording to their values by Descartes's rules, this line proved not to be one continuum
but something with amazing gaps, with leaps of an absurd and unintelligible kind. 23
On that occasion I had also observed that the rules of the Reverend Father Male-
branche did not meet this test in all respects, and after weighing the matter again with
his usual candor, that distinguished man admitted that this led him to change his rules,
and he brought out a small book to this effect. Yet it must be admitted that he had not
yet sufficiently mastered the use of this new device and has left things which even now
do not yet fit together completely.24
From what has been said it also follows, remarkably, that every passion of a body
is spontaneous or arises from an internal force. though upon an external occasion. But I
mean by this the passion proper to it, which arises from percussion, or which remains
the same whatever hypothesis may be chosen or to whatever body we may ascribe rest
or motion. For since the percussion is the same regardless of what body the true mo-
tion belongs to, it follows that the effect of percussion will be equally distributed
between both, and thus that both act equally in the collision, so that half of the effect
comes from the action of one, the other half from the action of the other. And since
half of the effect or passion is also in one and half in the other, it suffices to derive the
passion which is in one from the action which is in it, so that we need no influence of
one upon the other 25 ; even though the action of one provides an occasion for the
other to produce a change within itself. Certainly when A and B collide, the resistance
of the bodies combined with elasticity causes them to be compressed through the per-
cussion, and the compression is equal in both, whatever may be the hypothesis about
their original motion. Experiments show this, too, if we let two inflated balls collide,
whether both are in motion or one is at rest, and even if the one at rest is suspended
from a string so that it can swing back with ease, for if the velocity of approach or
relative velocity is always the same, the compression or elastic tension will be the same
and will be equal in both. Then the baIls A and B will restore themselves by force of
the active elasticity compressed within them, repel each other, and burst apart as if
driven by a bow, each being driven back from the other with equal force, and thus
receding, not by force of the other, but by its own force. But what is true of inflated
balls must be understood of every body insofar as it suffers in percussion. Repercussion
and repulsion, namely, arise from elasticity within the body itself, or from the motion
of an ethereal fluid matter which permeates it, and so from an internal force existing
within it. But, as I have said, I mean the proper motion, belonging to the bodies,
separate from the common motion, or motion which can be ascribed to their common
center of gravity; hence their proper motion is to be thought of (in a hypothetical way)
as if they were carried in a ship which has a motion common to their center of gravity,
while they themselves move in such a way that the phenomena can be saved, both with
regard to the composite motion common to the ship or to their center and that proper
to themselves. 26 It is also understood from what has been said that there is never an action
ofbodies without reaction and that both are equal to each other and in contrary directions.
Also, since only force and the effort arising from it at any moment exist (for as we
have explained above, motion never truly exists), and every effort tends in a straight
line, it follows that all motion is in straight lines, or compounded of straight lines. Hence
it not only follows that whatever moves in a curve strives always to proceed in a straight
line tangent to it, but there also arises here, the true notion offirmness, which one would
hardly expect. For if we assume that some one of those bodies which we call firm
(although nothing is in fact absolutely firm or fluid but has a certain degree of firmness
and fluidity, being called firm by us only out of a predominant regard for our senses)-
if we assume one of these bodies to rotate about its center, its parts will strive to fly off
on a tangent; indeed, they really begin to fly off. But because this separation from each
other disturbs the motion ofthe body surrounding them, they are thus repelled or crow-
ded into each other again, as if there were a magnetic force in the center which attracts
them, or as if there were a centripetal force in the parts themselves. The result is a
rotation compounded of the rectilinear effort along the tangent and this centripetal
impulse together. So all curvilinear motion arises as a continuous composition of
rectilinear efforts with centripetal ones, and at the same time we understand that
this crowding together by the surrounding bodies is the cause of all firmness. Other-
wise it would be impossible for all curvilinear motion to be composed of mere
rectilinear motions. This gives us another unexpected argument against atoms.
Nothing more foreign to nature can be conceived, moreover, than to seek firmness
in rest, for there is never any true rest in bodies, and nothing but rest can arise
from rest. But though A and B may be at rest in relation to each other, if not
actually, at least relatively (accurately speaking, however, this never occurs, for
no body ever preserves exactly the same distance from another for any length of time,
however small), and though whatever once rests will always be at rest unless a new
cause is added yet it does not follow that, because B resists a striking body, it will also
resist that which separates it from others, so that A would at once follow when the
resistance of B is overcome or B is itself propelled. But if true attraction, which is not
found in nature, were explained from a primitive firmness, or through rest or something
similar, this would certainly follow. Firmness is therefore not to be explained except as
made by the crowding together by the surrounding matter. For pressure alone does not
adequately explain the problem, as if only the separation of B from A is prevented; it
must be understood that they do in fact separate from each other but are again
driven together by the surrounding matter, so that this conservation of their union is
produced by the composition of two motions. Thus those who conceive of certain
slabs or imperceptible layers in bodies, like two slabs of polished marble which fit to-
gether exactly, which it is difficult to separate because of the resistance of the surround-
ing matter, and who explain the firmness of two sensible bodies in this way, may in-
deed often be speaking the truth; but since they presuppose some firmness in the slabs
themselves, they have given no ultimate explanation of firmness. From these consider-
ations it can be understood why I cannot support some of the philosophical opinions
of certain great mathematicians on this matter, who admit empty space and seem not
to shrink from the theory of attraction but also hold motion to be an absolute thing
and claim to prove this from rotation and the centrifugal force arising from it. But
since rotation arises only from a composition of rectilinear motions, it follows that

if the equipollence of hypotheses is saved in rectilinear motions, however they are

a:ssumed, it will also be saved in curvilinear motions. 27
It can also be understood from what has been said that the motion common to a
system 0/ bodies does not change their actions among themselves, because the relative
velocity with which they approach each other and so the force of collision with which
they approach each other are not changed. There follow from this the outstanding
experiments which Gassendi reported in his letters about a motion imparted by a
moving body which is itself being translated; he did this to answer those who thought
they could infer that the earth is at rest from the motion of projectiles. It is certain, how-
ever, that if people are being transported in a large ship (assumed to be closed, or at least
so constructed that the passengers cannot observe external things), and the ship moves at
a great velocity, yet smoothly and without acceleration, they will have no principle by
which to discern whether the ship is at rest or in motion (on the basis, that is, of what is
happening within the ship), even if they play ball or carry out other motions. This must
be noted in support of those who believe in the Coperniean theory, which they do not
rightly understand. According to them, bodies projected from the earth into the air
are caught up by the air which is turning with the earth, and so follow the motion of
the earth, and likewise fall back to earth as if this were at rest. This view is rightly to be
judged inadequate, since the most learned men who use the Copernican hypothesis
think rather that whatever is on the surface of the earth moves with the earth, and if
it is shot by a bow or catapult, it carries with it the impetus impressed on it by the
rotation of the earth, together with the impetus impressed by its projection. Hence,
since its twofold motion is in part common with the earth, in part peculiar to its pro-
jection, it is not surprising that this common motion changes nothing. Meanwhile
it must not be concealed that if projectiles can be driven so far, or the ship be conceived
as so large and moving with so great a velocity that before the descent the earth or
the ship will describe an arc perceptibly different from a straight line, a difference
would be perceived, because then the motion of the earth or ship, being circular, would
not remain common with the motion impressed on the missile by the ship or by the ro-
tation of the earth, which was rectilinear. In the striving of heavy bodies toward a center,
moreover, an external action is added which can produce a diversity of phenomena, no
less than if there were a compass in the enclosed ship which pointed to the pole and
which would certainly indicate a variation in the ship's direction. But whenever the
equipollence of hypotheses is involved, every factor contributing to the phenomena
must be included. It is also understood from these matters that the composition of
motions or the resolution of one motion into two or any number whatever can safely
be used, even though, according to Wallis, one brilliant man has raised plausible
doubts. For the matter certainly deserves to be proved and cannot be assumed to be
known in itself, as many have done.
REFERENCES
1 See No. 45, which had appeared in the samejoumal the preceding year.
2 The criticism here implied of the occasionalists and Malebranche becomes explicit in the
New System (No. 47) and even more so in On Nature Itse/f(No. 53). The continuous miracle
imputed to the occasionalists was involved in the denial of any proper activity according to
law within created beings themselves.
3 Primitive force thus belongs to the realm of metaphysics, not of mechanical science. But it
inheres in the individual monads and the laws of their functional dependence, which would be
revealed if physical analysis and synthesis could be completed.
4 On the nature of the corpuscular philosophy see p. 349, note 14. It is abused by any theory
which regards mechanism as ultimate or applicable to substance itself. The "crude notion of a
corporeal substance" advocated by Descartes thus exceeds the limits of a sound corpuscular
philosophy by reducing substance to extension.
5 Materia prima is here defined in relation to the quality of resistance and inertia in the
phenomenal body. Contrast No. 39, and p. 366, note 4, where it is related to the monad or
individual substance. This dual function of materia prima appears throughout the subsequent
discussion of matter. Cf. Introduction, Sees. III and VII. Secondary matter, on the other hand,
includes the physical property of inertia and resistance in the composite body involved in
physical transactions.
6 On Leibniz's concept of mass see p. 103, note 8, and p. 329, note 21. Mass is not equivalent
to matter but is a quantitative measure of inertia or materia prima as experienced in materia
secunda. But compare the distinction between moles and massa on p. 508, note 12.
7 See p. 301, note 2. Leibniz now defines momentary motion and aggregate motion in the
sense in which he used quantity of motion and quantity of force in 1686. Every body has a
velocity at a particular moment oftime: v=(ds/dt). The product of the mass by this velocity is
here called the quantity of momentary motion, or merely 'motion': mv=(mds/dt), while the
quantity of motion over a period of time would be the integral:
m s~ ds/dtdt = ms.
But, since distance is proportional to v2 , this is Leibniz's own quantity of force as defined in
No. 34.
The following table presents the mathematical equivalents of Leibniz's concepts:
Leibniz Modem Formula

Conatus, momen- Velocity (vecto- v=ds/dt
tary velocity rial)
Impetus, momen- Momentum mv
tarymotion
(quantity of motion
for Descartes)
Quantity of motion m S: vdt
for Leibniz
Dead force Force of accel- a=dv/dt
(sollicitation) eration (cf. po-
tential energy) ma
Living force Vis viva (cf. ki-
netic energy)
(i) In a single body m S~ vdt=m S~ ds/dt dt=ms or mv 2
(ii) In a compound system
(a) Absolute or
total force
(b) Progress of
direction I:mv
8 I. e., force of acceleration.
9 Not only the total living force of a material system is conserved, therefore, but also (1) the
internal relative force of its members with regard to each other and (2) the total directive
progress of the system. The result of (1) is that the center of gravity of the system is not changed
by the motions of its component members. The principle of the conservation of direction of
progress differs from Descartes's principle of the conservation of quantity of motion in

considering the algebraic, not merely the arithmetic, sum of the progressive motion (mv) of its
members; thus motion in opposite directions would carry opposite numerical signs (cf. p. 44,
note 25). In this connection see H. Poincare, 'Note sur les principes de la mecanique dans
Descartes et dans Leibnitz', in Emile Boutroux's edition of La Monadologie, Paris 1881,
pp.225-31.
10 That is, to the derivative of the distance, dsfdt, orv. See p. 301, note 3.
11 See No. 42, Part II, on Arts. 40--44. Among Descartes's reifications of modal or conceptual
differences which Leibniz had criticized are the distinction between rest and motion, the
reduction of direction to the same and contrary motions, and now, the absolute separation of
direction and speed. Descartes's distinction had saved his interactionism. Leibniz has just
asserted that both force and direction of motion are conserved in a material system, and this
implies that mind can effect neither; parallelism is thus inevitable.
12 See p. 302, note 4. Johannes Marcus Marci von Kronland, De proportione motus (1639);
Ignace Gaston Pardies, Discours du mouvement locale (1670).
13 On Huygens see p. 301, note 2, and p. 302, note 8. It was the laws of motion of Huygens
and Wren, formulated in 1668 in response to an invitation of the Royal Society, which occasi-
oned Leibniz's own first efforts to develop laws of motion in 1669 (see Kabitz, Phil. des jungen
Leibniz, pp. 65-68, 135-48). Mariotte had further developed some of Wren's work.
14 See p. 329, note 23.
15 Henry More's Opera omnia reached Leibniz soon after publication in 1679, but his influence
is probably negligible beyond a few figures of speech which Leibniz appropriated from him.
His argument that force and motion are due to a hylarchic principle which imparts an 'essential
spissitude' to the bodies in which it inheres is developed in the Metaphysical Enchiridion, chap.
xiii, scholium. Cf. p. 204, note 20; p. 328, note 14; and p. 508, note 2.
16 William Molyneux's Dioptrica nova appeared in two volumes (1692 and 1709). His reference
was to the 'Unicum opticae, catoptricae, et dioptricae principium', which Leibniz published in
the Acta eruditorum in 1682 (see No. 50).
17 Though the following argument has already been given three times (Nos. 34, 35, and 42), it
is here developed with an emphasis upon methodology, which is a special case of the general
method of analysis and synthesis. In No. 34 Leibniz attributed his method of analysis and the
substitution of equivalents to Huygens' analysis of the compound pendulum (see p. 302,
note 8).
18 Reading metu (Dut.) for motu (G.).
19 Reading unus for minus (G.).
20 Dut. adds "in the month of May". The second part was not published, however. The
dynamic interpretation which Leibniz gives of his principles in this second part should be
compared with their a priori logical exposition in the 'First Truths' earlier (No. 30).
21 The New System was published this same year (No. 47).
22 See the last letter in No. 43, and p. 420, note 12, for Leibniz's attempt to have his reconcili-
ation of the two views accepted at Rome.
23 Leibniz's graph is on p. 412, note 34.
24 See No. 37. Malebranche undertook to correct his laws of motion as presented in the
'Recherche' in his Traite des lois de la communication des mouvements (1692).
25 The passive force involved here corresponds to relative or proper force as defined in Part I,
not to directive or total force. The instance of the ship (the prototype of popular expositions of
relativity?) makes this clearer.
26 To 'save phenomena' means not merely to avoid theories which contradict them but to
provide analyses (here causal) that explain them.
27 This criticism is directed at both Newton and Huygens, who had held that circular motion
is an argument for absolute motion (see No. 43, II, III).
47
A NEW SYSTEM OF THE NATURE AND THE COMMUNICATION

OF SUBSTANCES, AS WELL AS THE UNION BETWEEN
THE SOUL AND THE BODY
Journal des savants, June 27, 1695
Leibniz's first published account of his metaphysical 'system'1 appeared in the well-
established Paris journal to which he had contributed scientific articles since his Paris
days. Since its contents are directly related to the writings and controversies on dynamics
in which he had been involved, its emphasis is not theological, like that of the Discourse
of 1686 (No. 35), but falls upon the problem of the individuality of created substance; the
mind-body relation is treated by analogy to his analysis of the relationships of force in a
compound material system.
The essay brought Leibniz's thinking to a focus, since it stimulated the first public
discussion of his metaphysics as such, Foucher, Beauval, Bayle, and Lami soon publishing
criticisms of it, to which Leibniz wrote careful replies. The 'second explanation' made in
reply to these critics is added as a supplement. The text is that of the published article,
which Schmalenbach reproduces; G. gives a later revision. The paragraph numbers were
added by Erdmann.
[Sch., I, 119-31 (G., IV, 477-87)]

1. It is some years ago that I conceived this system and began communicating with
learned men about it, especially with one of the greatest theologians and philosophers
of our time, who had been told about certain of my opinions by a person of the
highest nobility and had found them very paradoxical. 2 After receiving my explana-
tions, however, he retracted in the most generous and edifying way possible, and
after approving a part of my propositions, he withheld his censure of the others upon
which he still did not agree with me. Since that time I have continued my meditations
as occasions offered, so as to give to the public only well-examined opinions, and I have
tried also to answer the criticisms raised against my essays on dynamics which have
some connection with this. Since some eminent persons have asked to see my opinions
more clearly developed, I have ventured upon these meditations, though they are not
at all popular or suited to the enjoyment of all sorts of minds. I have decided upon this
chiefly in order to profit by the criticisms of those who are informed on such matters,
since it would be too burdensome to seek out and call to my aid individually those who
would be disposed to give me instruction. This I shall always be pleased to receive,
provided that the love of truth be shown in it rather than a passionate attachment for
preconceived opinions.
2. Although I am one of those who have done much work in mathematics, I have
constantly meditated on philosophy from my youth up, for it has always seemed to me

that here, too, there is a way to establish something sound through clear demonstra-
tions. I had penetrated deeply into the land of the Scholastics, when mathematics and
modem authors made me withdraw from it while I was still young. Their beautiful
ways of explaining nature mechanically charmed me, and with good reason I despised
the method of those who use only forms or faculties of which nothing is understood.
But later, after trying to explore the principles of mechanics itself in order to account
for the laws of nature which we learn from experience, I perceived that the sole consi-
deration of extended mass was not enough but that it was necessary, in addition, to use
the concept of force, which is fully intelligible, although it falls within the sphere of
metaphysics. It seemed to me also that though the opinion of those who transform or
degrade beasts into pure machines seems possible, it goes beyond appearances and is
even contrary to the order of things.
3. At first, after freeing myself from bondage to Aristotle, I accepted the void and
the atoms, for it is these that best satisfy the imagination. But in turning back to them
after much thought, I perceived that it is impossible to find the principles of a true unity
in matter alone or in what is merely passive, since everything in it is but a collection
or aggregation of parts to infinity. Now a: multitude can derive its reality only from
the true unities, which have some other origin and are entirely different from points,
for it is certain that the continuum cannot be compounded of points. To find these real
unities, therefore, I was forced to have recourse to a formal atom, since a material
being cannot be at the same time material and perfectly indivisible, or endowed with
true unity. 3 It was thus necessary to restore and as it were, to rehabilitate the substan-
tial forms which are in such disrepute today, but in a way which makes them intelli-
gible and separates their proper use from their previous abuse. I found then that their
nature consists of force and that there follows from this something analogous to sense
and appetite, so that we must think of them in terms similar to the concept which we
have of souls. But just as the soul ought not to be used to explain the details of the
economy of the animal's body, so I concluded that one ought not to use these forms
to explain the particular problems of nature, though they are necessary to establish its
true general principles. Aristotle calls them first entelechies. I call them, more intelli-
gibly perhaps, primitive forces, which contain not only the actuality or the completion
of possibility but an original activity as well. 4
4. I saw that these forms and these souls must be indivisible, just as is our mind; in
fact, I remembered that this was the opinion of St. Thomas with regard to the souls of
beasts.5 But this truth revived the great difficulties about the origin and duration of
souls and forms. For since every substance 6 which has a true unity can begin and end
only by a miracle, it follows that souls can begin only by creation and end only by
annihilation. So I was obliged to recognize that except for the souls which God still
expressly wills to create, the forms which constitute substances have been created with
the world and that they will subsist always. Moreover, certain Scholastics like Albert the
Great and John Bacon had glimpsed a part of the truth about the origin of these forms.
Nor should this opinion appear extraordinary, since we are merely ascribing to the
forms the duration which the Gassendists grant to their atoms.
5. I concluded, nevertheless, that we must not mix up indifferently, or confuse,
minds or rational souls with other forms or souls, for they are of a superior order and
have incomparably more perfection than have the forms which are sunk in matter,
which I believe are found everywhere. For in comparison with these, minds or rational
souls are as little gods made in the image of God and having in them some ray of the
light of the Divinity. This is why God governs minds as a prince governs his subjects or
indeed as a father cares for his children, while he deals with other substances, instead,
as an engineer handles his machines. Minds thus have special laws which place them
beyond the revolutions of matter 7, and one can say that all the rest is made only for them,
these revolutions themselves being adapted to the happiness of the good and the
punishment of the evil.
6. To return to ordinary forms, however, or to material souls 8, this duration which
we must acribe to them instead of that which was attributed to the atoms could lead
us to doubt whether they do not pass from body to body. This would be metempsychosis,
somewhat like the transmission of motion and of species in which some philosophers
have believed. 9 But such a fancy is far from the nature of things. There is no such
transfer; at this point the transformations of Swammerdam, Malpighi, and Leeuwen-
hoek, the best observers of our times, have come to my aid and led me to admit the
more readily that animals and all other organized substances do not at all begin when
we believe them to and that their apparent generation is merely a development and a
form of augmentation. I have noticed, too, that the author of the Recherche de ta
verite and Mr. Regis, Mr. Hartsoeker, and other able men have held opinions not far
removed from this.tO
7. The greatest question still remained, however: What becomes of the souls or
forms at the death of the animal or at the destruction of the individual unit of organized
substance? This question is the more difficult, inasmuch as it hardly seems reason-
able that souls should remain, useless in a chaos of confused matter. This led me at
length to conclude that there is only one reasonable view to take - that of the conserva-
tion not only of the soul but also of the animal itself and its organic machine, even
though the destruction of its grosser parts may have reduced this machine to a size so
small that it escapes our senses just as it did before birth. Moreover, no one can mark
exactly the true time of death, which may for a long time be taken to be a simple sus-
pension of observable actions and in the last analysis is never anything but this in the
simple animals. Witness the resuscitation of flies which have been drowned and then
buried under powdered chalk, and a number of similar examples which suffice to show
that there would be other resuscitations, in cases much further gone, if men were in a
position to restore the mechanism. It seems that the great Democritus spoke of some-
thing approaching this, extreme atomist though he was, though Pliny laughed at his
opinion. tt It is natural, then, that animals which have always been living and organized
(as people of great penetration are beginning to recognize) will also always remain so.
And since an animal has thus no first birth or entirely new generation, it follows that
there will be no final extinction or complete death, in a strict metaphysical sense,
and that as a result, there is no transmigration of souls but only a transforma-
tion of the same animal, as its organs are differently folded and are more or less
developed.
8. Rational souls, however, follow much more elevated laws and are exempt from
everything which might make them lose the quality of citizens of the society of minds,
since God has provided so well that no changes in matter can make them lose the
moral qualities of their personality. And one can say that everything tends to the
perfection not merely of the universe in general but also of these created beings in
particular, which are destined for so high a degree of happiness that the universe itself

is concerned in it by virtue of the divine goodness which is communicated to each being

to the extent which the sovereign wisdom can permit.
9. As for the ordinary course 12 of animals and other corporeal substances, which
have hitherto been thought to be entirely extinguished, and whose changes depend on
mechanical rather than on moral laws, I have noted with pleasure that the ancient
author of the book De diaeta, which is attributed to Hippocrates, caught sight of a
part of the truth when he expressly said that animals neither are born nor die and that
the things which are thought to have a beginning and to perish actually merely appear
and disappear. According to Aristotle, this is also the opinion of Parmenides and
Melissus, for these ancient thinkers were sounder than we think. 13
10. I am as ready as any man to do justice to the modems. Yet I find that they have
carried reform too far, among other things in confusing natural with artificial matters,
because they have not held high enough ideas of the majesty of nature. They think that
the difference between natural machines and ours is merely the difference between
great and small. This led a very able man, the author of the Conversations on the Plura-
lity of Worlds, to say recently that when we examine nature closely we find it less
admirable than has been thought, it being merely like a craftsman's workshop - a
conception which I consider neither just enough nor worthy enough of it. 14 It is only
our system which shows us, at length, the real and immense distance which lies between
the least productions and mechanisms of the Divine Wisdom and the greatest master-
pieces of the craft of a finite mind. This difference consists not merely in degree but
also in kind. We must recognize that the machines of nature have a truly infinite
number of organs, and are so well equipped and so completely proof against all acci-
dents, that it is impossible to destroy them. A natural machine remains a machine
even in its smallest parts, and what is more, it always remains the same machine that
it has been, being merely transformed through the different foldings which it under-
goes, and being now extended, now compressed and, as it were, concentrated, when
it is thought to have perished.
11. Furthermore, by means of the soul or form there is a true unity corresponding
to what is called 'I' in us. Such a unity could not occur in artificial machines or in a
simple mass of matter, however organized it may be. For such a mass can be compared
only to an army or a herd, or to a pond full of fish, or a watch made of springs and
wheels. If there were no true substantial unities, however, there would be nothing
substantial or real in the collection. It was this that forced Cordemoi to abandon
Descartes and to support the Democritean theory of atoms in order to find a true
unity in them. 15 But material atoms are contrary to reason, besides being still further
composed of parts, since an invincible attachment of one part to another (if we could
reasonably conceive or assume this) would not at all destroy the diversity of these parts.
It is only atoms of substance, that is to say, real unities that are absolutely destitute of
parts, which are the sources of action and the absolute first principles out of which
things are compounded, and as it were, the ultimate elements in the analysis of sub-
stance. One could call them metaphysical points. They have something vital, and a kind
of perception, and mathematical points are the points of view from which they express
the universe. But when a corporeal substance is contracted, all its organs together
make only one physical point with respect to us. Physical points are thus indivisible in
appearance only, while mathematical points are exact but are nothing but modalities.
It is only metaphysical points, or points of substance, constituted by forms or souls,
which are exact and real, and without them there would be nothing real, since there
could be no multitude without true unities. 16
12. Having established these things, I thought I had reached port. But when I began
to think about the union of the soul with the body, it was like casting me back into the
open sea, for I found no way to explain how the body causes anything to take place in
the soul, or vice versa, or how one substance can communicate with another created
substance. So far as we can know from his writings, Descartes gave up the struggle
over this problem. 17 But seeing that the common opinion is inconceivable, his disciples
concluded that we sense the qualities of bodies because God causes thoughts to arise
in our soul on the occasion of material movements and that when our soul in its turn
wishes to move the body, God moves the body for it. And since the communication of
motion also seemed inconceivable to them, they believed that God imparts motion to a
body on the occasion of the motion of another body. This they call the System of
Occasional Causes; it has had great vogue as a result of the beautiful reflections of the
author ofthe Recherche de la verite.
13. It must be admitted that this has definitely penetrated the difficulty in showing
us what cannot take place. But it does not seem to have removed the difficulty by
showing us what actually does happen. It is quite true that speaking with metaphysical
rigor, there is no real influence of one created substance upon another and that all
things, with all their reality, are continually produced by the power of God. But pro-
blems are not solved merely by making use of a general cause and calling in what is
called the deus ex mach ina. To do this without offering any other explanation drawn
from the order of secondary causes is, properly speaking, to have recourse to miracle.
In philosophy we must try to give a reason which will show how things are brought
about by the Divine Wisdom in conformity with the particular concept of the subject
in question.
14. Being constrained, then, to admit that it is impossible for the soul or any other
true substance to receive something from without, except by the divine omnipotence,
I was led insensibly to an opinion which surprised me, but which seems inevitable, and
which has in fact very great advantages and very significant beauties. This is that we
must say that God has originally created the soul, and every other real unity, in such
a way that everything in it must arise from its own nature by a perfect spontaneity with
regard to itself, yet by a perfect conformity to things without. And thus, since our inter-
nal sensations, that is, those which are in the soul itself and not in the brain or in the
subtle parts of the body, are merely phenomena which follow upon external events or
better, are really appearances or like well-ordered dreams, it follows that these per-
ceptions internal to the soul itself come to it through its own original constitution,
that is to say, through its representative nature, which is capable of expressing entities
outside of itself in agreement with its organs - this nature having been given it from its
creation and constituting its individual character. It is this that makes each substance
represent the entire universe accurately in its own way and according to a definite
point of view. And the perceptions or expressions of external things reach the soul at
the proper time by virtue of its own laws, as in a world apart, and as if there existed
nothing but God and itself (to make use of the expression of a person of exalted mind
and renowned piety). So there will be a perfect accord between all these substances
which produces the same effect that would be noticed if they all communicated with
each other by a transmission of species or of qualities, as the common run of philo-

sophers imagine. Furthermore, the organized mass in which the point of view of the
soul is found is itself expressed more immediately by the soul and is in tum ready to
act by itself following the laws of the corporeal mechanism, at the moment at which the
soul wills but without either disturbing the laws of the other, the animal spirits and the
blood taking on, at exactly the right moment, the motions required to correspond to
the passions and the perceptions of the soul. It is this mutual agreement, regulated in
advance in every substance of the universe, which produces what we call their commu-
nication and which alone constitutes the union of soul and body. This makes it clear
how the soul has its seat in the body by an immediate presence which could not be
closer, since the soul is in it as a unity is in the resultant of unities which is a multitude.
15. This hypothesis is entirely possible. For why should God be unable to give to
substance in the beginning a nature or internal force which enables it to produce in
regular order - as in an automaton that is spiritual or formal but free in the case of that
substance which has a share of reason - everything which is to happen to it, that is, all
the appearances or expressions which it is to have, and this without the help of any
created being? Especially since the nature of substance necessarily demands and
essentially involves progress or change and would have no force of action without it.
And since it is the nature of the soul to represent the universe in a very exact way,
though with relative degrees of distinctness, the sequence of representations which the
soul produces will correspond naturally to the sequence of changes in the universe
itself. So the body, in tum, has also been adapted to the soul to fit those situations in
which the soul is thought of as acting externally. This is all the more reasonable inas-
much as bodies are made solely for the spirits themselves, who are capable of entering
into a society with God and of extolling his glory. Thus as soon as one sees the possi-
bility of this hypothesis of agreement, one sees also that it is the most reasonable one
and that it gives a wonderful idea of the harmony of the universe and of the perfection
of the works of God.
16. There is also in it the great advantage that instead of saying that we are free only
in appearance and in a manner adequate for practical purposes, as several intelligent
persons have thought, we must rather say that we are determined only in appearance
and that in metaphysical strictness we are in a state of perfect independence as con-
cerns the influence of all the other created beings. This throws a wonderful light on the
immortality of our soul as well and on the always uniform conservation of our indivi-
dual being, which is perfectly regulated by its own nature and fully sheltered from all
accidents from without, whatever appearance there may be to the contrary. Never has
a system so clearly exhibited our elevation. Since each mind is as a world apart and
sufficient unto itself, independent of every other created being, enveloping the infinite
and expressing the universe, it is as durable, as subsistent, as absolute as the universe of
creatures itself. We must therefore conclude that it must always play such a part as is
most fitting to contribute to the perfection of the society of all minds, which is their
moral union in the City of God. A new proof of the existence of God can also be found
here, one of surprising clarity. For the perfect agreement of so many substances which
have no communication whatever with each other can come only from a common
source.
17. In addition to all these advantages which recommend this hypothesis, we can
say that it is something more than a hypothesis, since it seems hardly possible to ex-
plain things in any other intelligible way, and since a number of serious difficulties
which have heretofore troubled thinkers seem to disappear of themselves when we

rightly understand it. Ordinary ways of speaking can still be preserved. For one may
say that when the particular disposition of one substance provides a reason for a
change occurring in an intelligible manner, in such a way that we can conclude that the
other substances have been adapted to it on this point from the beginning according to
the order of the divine decree, then that substance should be thought of as acting upon
the others in this sense. Further, the action of one substance upon another is not an
emission or a transplanting of some entity, as is commonly supposed; and it can be
understood reasonably only in the way just shown. It is true that we can easily con-
ceive of both the emission and the reception of parts in matter and can in this way
reasonably explain all the phenomena of physics mechanically. But since material
mass is not a substance, it is clear that the action of substance itself can be only what
I have just described.
18. However metaphysical these considerations may seem, they are also of remark-
able service to physics in establishing the laws of motion, as my Dynamics will be able
to show. For it can be said that in the collision of bodies each suffers only from its own
elasticity, caused by the motion which is already within it. As for absolute motion,
nothing can determine it mathematically, since everything ends in relations. The
results is always a perfect equivalence in hypotheses, as in astronomy, so that no
matter how many bodies one takes, one may arbitrarily assign rest or some degree of
velocity to anyone of them we wish, without possibly being refuted by the phenomena
of straight, circular, or composite motion. 1s However, it is reasonable to attribute true
motions to bodies if we follow the assumption which explains the phenomena in the
most intelligible way, for to do this is in confrormity with the concept of activity which
we have just established.
II. "SECOND EXPLANATION OF THE NEW SYSTEM"19

(Postscript of a Letter to Basnage de
Beauval, January 3/13, 1696)
[G., IV, 498-500]
I see clearly from your reflections that my thoughts, which a friend has had inserted in
the Paris journal, are in need of clarification.
You say that you do not understand how I can prove what I have suggested about
the communication or harmony of two substances as different as the soul and the
body. It is true that I thought I provided a way to do so. And this is how I propose to
satisfy you.
Imagine two clocks or watches which are in perfect agreement. 20 Now this can
happen in three ways. Theftrst is that ofa natural influence. This is the way with which
Mr. Huygens experimented, with results that greatly surprised him. He suspended two
pendulums from the same piece of wood. The continued strokes of the pendulums
transmitted similar vibrations to the particles of wood, but these vibrations could not
continue in their own frequency without interfering with each other, at least when the
two pendulums did not beat together. The result, by a kind of miracle, was that even
when their strokes had been intentionally disturbed, they came to beat together again,
somewhat like two strings tuned to each other. The second way of making two clocks,
even poor ones, agree always is to assign a skilled craftsman to them who adjusts them

and constantly sets them in agreement. The third way is to construct these two time-
pieces at the beginning with such skill and accuracy that one can be assured of their
subsequent agreement.
Now put the soul and the body in the place of these two timepieces. Then their
agreement or sympathy will also come about in one of these three ways. The way of
influence is that of the common philosophy. But since it is impossible to conceive of
material particles or of species or immaterial qualities which can pass from one of these
substances into the other, this view must be rejected. The way of assistance is that of
the system of occasional causes. But I hold that this makes a deus ex machina intervene
in a natural and ordinary matter where reason requires that God should help only in
the way in which he concurs in all other natural things. Thus there remains only my
hypothesis, that is, the way ofpreestablished harmony 21, according to which God has
made each of the two substances from the beginning in such a way that though each
follows only its own laws which it has received with its being, each agrees throughout
with the other, entirely as if they were mutually influenced or as if God were always
putting forth his hand, beyond his general concurrence. I do not think that there is
anything more than this that I need to prove - unless someone should demand that I
prove that God is skilful enough to make use of this foresighted artifice, of which we
see samples even among men, to the extent that they are able men. And assuming that
God can do it, it is clear that this way is the most beautiful and the most worthy of him.
You had suspected that my explanation would be opposed to the different idea we have
of the mind and of the body. But now you clearly see that no one could establish their
independence more effectively. For as long as one was obliged to explain their commu-
nication by means of a miracle, one always gave opportunity for some people to fear
that the distinction between body and soul is not as real as is thought, since we were
forced to go to such lengths to maintain it. Now all these scruples will cease. My
Essays on Dynamics are related to this, for in them it was necessary to explore the
concept of corporeal substance, which I found in the force of action and resistance
rather than in extension, the latter being merely a repetition or diffusion of something
prior to it, namely, this force. These thoughts, which some people found paradoxical,
have led to an exchange of letters with several famous people. I could publish a com-
mercium epistolicum from them, which would also contain my correspondence with
Mr. Arnauld, of which I spoke in my preceding letter. It would contain an interesting
mixture of philosophic and mathematical ideas, which would perhaps sometimes have
the grace of novelty. You yourself can judge, Sir, whether the explanations which I have
given are suitable for sounding out the opinions of intelligent people if published in
your journal - though without my name, as I was also unnamed in the Paris journal.
REFERENCES
1 Leibniz soon found it necessary to deny that he had a system (see Nos. 49, I, and 54).
2 Leibniz notes, "Mr. Arnauld" (cf. Nos. 35 and 36).
3 In his final revision Leibniz altered the last two sentences as follows: "Now a multitude can
derive its reality only from true unities which have some other origin and are entirely different
from mathematical points, these being merely the extremities of what is extended, and modi-
fications of which it is certain the continuum cannot be composed. To find the real unities,
therefore, I was forced to have recourse to a real and animated point, so to speak, or an atom
of substance which mus t include a certain active form to make a complete being."
4 See No. 45 and p. 434, note 2.

5 Leibniz is in error in ascribing to Thomas Aquinas the doctrine of the indivisibility and
immortality of all souls. In the Summa theologica, Part II, chap. 82, Aquinas argues against the
immortality of beasts, holding that only perfect souls are indivisible.
6 Later revision: "every simple substance".
7 Later addition: "through the very order which God has put in them".
8 Later revision: "brute souls".
9 That is, abstracted qualities whether regarded as immaterial or material, like the Scholastic
'species volantes', which are passed from one substance to another (see p. 329, note 30).
10 Pierre Sylvain Regis, Cours entier de philosophie ou systeme general d' apres les principes de
Descartes (1691). Nicolas Hartsoeker, Dutch microscopist, published an Essai de dioptrique in
1694 in which he developed an atomic theory. Regis criticized Leibniz's attacks on Descartes
in 1697 (G., IV, 333-36), and Hartsoeker later corresponded with Leibniz on problems in the
philosophy of nature (G., III, 488-90).
11 In the 'Doctrine of a Single Universal Spirit' (1702) (No. 58), Leibniz attributes this account
of Democritus' theory of resuscitation to Plotinus. Pliny had ridiculed the concept as "put
forth by Democritus, who did not himself come to life again".
12 Reading cours with Erd. and Sch., instead of corps (G .).
13 De caelo iii. 1. 298b.
14 Fontenelle's Entretiens sur la pluralite des mondes was published in 1686.
15 See p. 271, note 12. Cordemoi had supplemented Descartes with an atomic and an occasion-
alistic theory.
16 Metaphysical points are not spatial in Leibniz's mature thought, though he has not yet
asserted, in 1695, that there is no absolute motion, but only that it cannot be known in a closed
physical system. The spatial correlates to the three kinds of points are perceptual space to
physical points, conceptual space to mathematical points, and the complex harmony of
representational perspectives or points of view to metaphysical points.
17 Leibniz probably alludes here to Descartes's letter to Elizabeth, June 18, 1643 (Correspond-
ence, ed. Adam and Tannery, III, 690-91).
18 Cf. No. 42, Part II, Art. 25, and No. 43. The allusion to relativism in astronomy is to the
interpretations of celestial motions by Copernicus, Ptolemy, and Brahe, which Leibniz was
interested in harmonizing through a phenomenalistic interpretation (cf. p. 420, note 12).
19 In 1697 Leibniz wrote brief replies to three critics of his New System - Foucher, Beauval,
and Hartsoeker. Since the most thorough criticism was that of Bayle, and Leibniz's answer is
most extended (No. 52), we print only one ofthe 'three explanations' made earlier - the 'second
explanation' sent to Beauval, editor of the Histoire des ouvrages des savants.
20 The figure of the two clocks is not original with Leibniz but was in general use among the
occasionalists. Its first use is generally attributed to Geulincx, Ethica, I, ii, 2, n. 19, though
Leibniz need not have secured it from that source. The figure is not a fortunate one for Leibniz,
since it throws no light upon the representative and functional nature of the relations between
monads and also neglects the distinction between the passive and active roles of the monads
in the divine harmony.
21 It is noteworthy that the adjective 'pre-established', so popular in the descriptions of Leibniz's
system, does not appear until late in his thought, and then with particular reference to the
mind-body problem. Any deistic implications are inconsistent with the immediacy of God in
the perceptions and appetites ofthe monads. Leibniz was, however, already charged with deism
by his contemporaries (see the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society, 1714-1716, p.
224).
48
LETTER TO GABRIEL WAGNER ON THE VALUE OF LOGIC

1696
Gabriel Wagner was a man of extended learning but with an insatiable appetite for con-
troversy and conflict. Under the name of Realis de Vienna he published several works, in-
cluding a criticism of Christian Thomasius which brought him into correspondence with
Leibniz. Forced to leave Vienna, he settled in Hamburg in 1696 and there began a German
weekly with the title Vernunftiibungen, which he devoted to bitter attacks upon contem-
porary Scholasticism. An attack on logic in that paper gave occasion for the following
letter, written in German.
[G., VII, 514-27]
Honorable Sir,
The fact that you had expressed your inclination and good opinion toward me
publicly - and indeed, far beyond my deserts - even before you made my acquain-
tance, made it all the more pleasant to receive your recent letter, together with your
scholarly and thoughtful publication, the Vernunftiibungen. I am under obligation to
you to offer my thanks and my services, but especially to reveal to you sincerely my
well-meant but tentative opinions on several matters, with the hope that you will
accept them in good spirit and perhaps, after ripe consideration, find something useful
in them.
I note, therefore, that your Vernunftiibungen has given certain people an oppor-
tunity to grow indignant and to interpret it as a declaration of war against a kind of
farcical learning which is now carried on in the higher schools and in others as well and
which is universally praised and sought after. They hold that you oppose it in part, and
especially insofar as it is removed from the knowledge of nature, and they view this as a
deliberate effort to bring into derision and abuse by other people the whole class of
those who deal in such learning. Now I am assured that this is not entirely your inten-
tion, and I cannot approve this extreme interpretation of it, especially since you have
defended yourself against it and since I perceive from your Latin writings that you
are yourself far from devoid of such learning, the style which you use in Latin (as
well as in German) having an unusual amount of ornateness and expressiveness in the
tradition of the ancients - which proves that you are not entirely lacking in, or op-
posed to, .an acquaintance with them. But since there are several things which create the
opposite impression, I am inclined to think that you would do well, Sir, to clear up a
few matters, either in further issues of the Vernun/tiibungen or in some other public
way, and thus rescue the honor of these scholars and remove a burden from yourself
by giving assurance that you had no intention of finding fault either with the sciences or
types of learning or with those who pursue and understand them and least of all, that
you wanted to scold or deride anyone.
For my part, I confess that in my early youth I was inclined to reject much of what
had been introduced into the learned world. But with growing years and deeper
insight I discovered the value of many things which I had before considered trivial,
and I learned not to condemn anything too easily, a rule which I consider better and
safer than that taught by certain Stoic lovers of wisdom and after them by Horace -
not to wonder at anything. I have made this clear to the so-called Cartesians in France
and elsewhere and have warned them that by attacking the schools, they are helping
neither themselves nor scholarship but are merely making learned men more bitter
toward new ideas, however good. To some extent this actually happened, as the not
entirely undeserved criticism by the learned Huet, Bishop of Avranches, proves. 1 And
though Father Malebranche is otherwise my good friend, I have never been able to
approve of his eforts to rule out, first, the critical study of Greek and Roman antiqui-
ties, then the reading of the rabbinical and Arabic literature, then the industry of the
astronomers, and then something else, for after all, these things all have their value,
and it is good that there are people working at them, who must therefore be encouraged
through praise further to pursue their great work, which they often carry on without
reward, instead of being frightened away from it through contempt. I have no doubt
that you are for the most part in agreement with this, since you have expressed your-
self ably on oriental languages, astronomy, and other fields.
However, since you have in the main tended, in understand you, to reject the art of
reasoning or logic entirely and to ban it and its close relative, the universal science or
metaphysics, and since you have explicitly included me (upon whom you bestow too
much praise) among those who despise logic, I consider it all the more important to
explain my position to you. I have no doubt that you have written as you have because
of a sincere zeal for the true and useful sciences, so that men need not be delayed and
led to lose valuable time through fruitless grubbing; and I do not doubt that you have
honored me by calling upon me as witness to such a worthy aim. But as my opinion on
the matter is in a certain measure different from yours, I should like to see if we can
understand and compare each other's positions. I believe that you are right in your
intentions but that your expressions say more than you mean. By logic or the art of
reasoning I understand the art of using the understanding not only to judge proposed
truth but also to discover hidden truth. If such an art is possible, in other words, if
there are marked advantages to be found in such processes, it follows that it ought
by all means to be sought and val~ed highly, indeed, to be considered as the key to all
the arts and sciences. You seem to admit that there are excellent advantages to be
gained by thought and investigation; if you are merely unwilling to admit that this
procedure should be named logic, our controversy concerns only a word. But since
I do not think that this is your purpose, I can take your position to mean only that you
are rejecting, not the true logic, but what we have heretofore honored by that name.
If this is your opinion, I must indeed confess that all our logics until now are but a
shadow of what I should wish and what I see from afar; but I must also confess, to
stick to the truth and give everyone his due, that I also find much that is good and
useful in the logic of the past. Gratitude as well compels me to say this, for I think
I can truthfully say that even the logic taught me in school has been most fruitful for me.
Before I entered a class in which it was taught, I was steeped in the historians and poets,
for I had begun to read history as soon as I could read at all, and I found great pleasure
and value in verse. But as soon as I began to learn logic, I was greatly stirred by the
classification and order which I perceived in its principles. I came at once to notice that
there must be something great in it, as far as a lad of thirteen years could notice such a

thing. My greatest pleasure lay in the categories, which seemed to me to be a standard roll
of everything in the world, and I examined many logics to see where the best and most
exhaustive lists could be found. I often asked myself and my companions into which
category and subdivision of it this or that concept might belong, although I was not at
all pleased to find that so many things were entirely excluded, and I found, too, that
some of the categories, especially the last two or perhaps four, dropped away complete-
ly for me because they were included in the earlier ones or because I could find no
actual use for them. I soon made the amusing discovery of a method of guessing or of
recalling to mind, by means of the categories, something forgotten when one has a
picture of it but cannot get at it in his brain. One needs only to ask one's self or others
about certain categories and their subdivisions (of which I had compiled an extensive
table out of various logics) and examine the answers, and one can readily exclude all
irrelevant matters and narrow the problem down until the missing thing can be disco-
vered. Nebuchadnezzar could perhaps have reconstructed his forgotten dream in this
way. In such tabulations of knowledge I attained practice in division and subdivision
as a basis of order and a bond of thoughts. Here the Ramists and Semi-Ramists were
heavily drawn upon. 2 Whenever I found a list of things belonging together, and espe-
cially whenever I found a genus or universal under which a number of particular
species was subsumed, as for example, the number of the emotions or of the virtues
and vices, I had to put them into a table and to see if the species fell into a successive
order. I always found that the enumeration was incomplete and that more species
could be added. I took great pleasure in such matters and wrote out all kinds of stuff,
but then forgot it and let it be lost. Many years later, however, I found some of it and
discovered that it did not entirely displease me. Later on I found the value of these
exercises when I came to work out certain problems. I recall that once, when I had
set up a construction of some kind, a learned friend asked me how I could think of
everything that I had put in, even when its applicability was not at once apparent.
I replied - what was true - that I did it by division and subdivision, using these as a
net or snare to capture the elusive game. I found too that such division served to make
for accurate descriptions of things, not to mention other advantages. Fortunately I
was well advanced in the so-called humanities before this occurred to me, or I could
hardly have prevailed upon myself to return again from the things to the words.
Many other ideas 'occurred to me, some of which I took to my teachers; among
others whether, since simple terms or concepts are ordered through the known cate-
gories, one could not set up categories and ordered series for complex terms or truths
as well. For at that time I did not know that mathematical demonstrations were what
I was seeking. I also observed that the topics or loci of the methods of explanation and
demonstration were of great use in recalling for us, at the proper time, things already
in our head but not in our thoughts, so that we might not merely prate about things
but investigate them better. I observed that such loci or principles are to be used as
sources, not merely for the methods of proving a represented truth, but also for the
methods of explaining an object directly presented, and that we may thus speak of
them not merely as principles of proof (argumentabilia) but also as principles of
description (predicabilia).3 Hence the five well-known predicables of Porphyry are
totally inadequate, since they contain only predicates in recto, or denominations, and
not even all these; one must add limitation (dejinitio; the Dutch call it bepae/ing) and
division, for it too is a predicable, for example, that every regular solid is either 4-, 6-,
HANOVER TO THE DEATH OF ERNEST AUGUST, 1690 -98 465
8-, 12-, or 20-sided. But Porphyry overlooked the predicables which serve for predi-
cates in obliquo or as sources of the secondary predicates [anbeylagen], if I may use
such a word, and these are found in the topics, since cause, effect, whole, part, etc., are
in fact of this kind. 4 I find that Placcius, the famed jurisconsult of Hamburg, whose
learning, industry, profundity, and good opinion I esteem highly and whose patronage
I would wish for you, has treated the loci ably and grasped the heart of the matter. 5
Jurists have made good use of these things in their legal loci and elsewhere. Upon them
we may also develop a certain art of questioning which is useful not only for judges and
recorders but also on journeys and in opportunities to see unusual things and speak
with unusual persons from whom one may learn much, so that one can make the best
use of such transient and never returning opportunities and not be angry with one's
self later for having failed to ask questions or to observe this thing or that. Here be-
longs also the art of inquiry into nature itself and of putting it on the rack - the art of
experimenting which Lord Bacon began so ably. You will reply that the ablest heads have
no need of such advantages but get along well enough with their natural understanding
and that simpletons cannot achieve as much with all such aids. There is some truth in this,
but it is also true that there are few who know or make use of their advantages and that it
is a misfortune for the human race that it has taken so little advantage of the grace re-
vealed by God and of the treasures of benevolent nature. For I am of the opinion that
men could accomplish things deemed incredible until now, ifthey really wanted to apply
themselves to it, but their eyes are still holden, and everything takes time to ripen. So I
am convinced that with the advantage of these aids and the willingness to use them,
a poor head could excel the best, just as a child with a ruler can draw better lines than
the greatest master with free hand. The greatest geniuses, however, would make un-
believable progress if they added these advantages.
So far I have discussed only that part of the accepted logic which serves discovery
and which, in a sense, should precede; now the part which concerns judgment must be
considered. Here we come to the syllogisms and their figures and modes. This is the
part which people hold to be the most useless; they make fun of Barbara and Celarent.
My own observation has been different, however, and although Mr. Arnauld, in his
Art of Thinking, thinks that men do not easily make errors in the form but almost
always in the materials of thought, the situation is in fact quite otherwise. 6 Mr.
Huygens has observed, as have I, that mathematical errors themselves, of the kind
called paraiogisms, usually arise through a neglect of form. It is certainly no small
matter that Aristotle reduced these forms to unerring laws, having been the first
actuaJIy to write mathematically outside of mathematics. For those who are interested,
I too have contributed something, having demonstrated by my art of knowing that
each of the four figures has exactly six valid modes and that therefore, in contrast to
the popular doctrine, one figure has as many as another, nature being regular in
everything. 7 This seems to me no less worthy of our consideration than the number
of regular bodies. Aristotle's work is indeed but a beginning, virtually the ABC's, for
there are other more complex and difficult forms which can be used only after these
first and simple forms have been established, as for example, the Euclidean inferences
in which proportions are transposed and ratios inverted, compounded, divided, etc.
Even addition, multiplication, and division of numbers, as they are learned in the
arithmetic schools, are demonstrations in form, and we can depend upon them because
they prove by virtue of their form. In this sense one may say that an entire bookkeeping

calculation is formally demonstrable and consists in demonstrations inform. This is also

true of algebra and many other formal proofs, which are indeed empty yet perfect. It is
simply unnecessary for all forms of proof to be labeled omnis, atque, and ergo. Into all
infallible sciences that are exactly demonstrated, higher logical forms are incorporated,
some of which come from Aristotle, some of which must find their source elsewhere.
Cardan saw this in his Logic. Just as counting on fingers and the use of lines and
crosses are left to peasants, mathematicians having higher devices, so, when one has
raised logic higher in the true sciences, one leaves to pupils this calculating by the
fingers as it were, by means of omnis, atque, and ergo, by means of which they cannot
count beyond three at a time, so to speak, because their inferences and syllogisms can
have only three terms and three propositions. It is sometimes advisable, however, to
stick to such peasant-calculating and child's logic. We sometimes accept small change
in bunches but prefer to count over larger pieces, say, of gold, separately, and if we had to
count diamonds, we should gladly count them on our fingers, because such counting,
though of the poorest type, is also the surest, whereas the higher, the more artificial, and
the more rapid the counting, the greater the danger of error. So in logic also; in important
matters such as theological controversies which concern the nature and will of God
and also our soul we do well to analyze matters most industriously and reduce every-
thing to the simplest and most easily grasped inferences, so that even the most insigni-
ficant student cannot fail to see what follows and what does not. It will be found that
men have often reached a standstill and remain stuck in important discussions because
they abandon form, just as we can change a ball of twine into a Gordian knot by
trying to unwind it in a disorderly way.
In this connection I must set down my thoughts about the proper use of formal
disputation. This has been banned from the lecture halls of both higher and lower
schools, and one of the most important means of avoiding human errors has thus
come to be considered almost as a child's game of which one is ashamed after he has
progressed to something sounder. And it is no wonder that it is treated in this way, for
it often seems that we do not want to use it to get behind the truth but only to give
young people a little courage in showing themselves and defending themselves in pu-
blic. Thus they commonly begin a syllogism, but the proposition which is denied or
otherwise criticized is not in its turn established by a new syllogism, much less the
disputed proposition in the pro syllogism, etc., as should be done in a true disputation
in form. Instead, it is common to break off into conversation and informal discourse
and to end in a word of honor or a compliment. Now I admit that it can hardly be
otherwise if its purpose is merely to give youth practice. For if we wanted to carry
through a formal disputation, several days would be spent on a syllogism, and where
would the audience and the other opponents be then? The large number of prosyllo-
gisms, moreover, would compose a real labyrinth from which we could not escape
without a protocol, to say nothing of the great understanding and unusual acuteness
needed to carry a demonstration back to its primary sources and fundamental truths
on the spur of the moment. It is thus a human perversity to use logical form only
where it can be of little help and must soon be stopped - that is, in oral controversies,
and by young people, merely for practice. But where form might help us out of great
difficulties, that is, in written theses for disputation, especially in important religious
conflicts, we neglect it, with the result that there often arise harmful errors which are
retained because in free discourse we think more of skill, eloquence, and subtlety, and
of approval and esteem as well, than of the foundation of truth. The result is that when
both sides are defended by able and alert people, no decision is reached, but both
sides are merely stiffened. I have often thought about this matter and have made some
tests, and I find that whoever undertakes to prove something and constructs a syllo-
gism for every wholly or partially denied proposition must inevitably finally stop
because of the lack of proof and confess this or drive his opponents back to undeniable
propositions and thus to an admission of truth, or (what sometimes happens in contin-
gent matters) he must shift the burden of proof to his opponent. Thus the form of
disputation has been shown to be necessary in necessary matters where eternal truths
occur but not in contingent matters where the most probable must be chosen. In this
case two further problems arise. The first concerns presumption, that is, when and
how one has the right to shift the demonstration from one's self to someone else; the
second concerns the degrees of probability, how to weigh and evaluate considerations
which do not constitute a perfect demonstration but run counter to each other (indi-
cantia and contraindicantia, the medics call them), and to reach a decision. For the
common saying is true enough - rationes non esse numerandas sed ponderandas; argu-
ments are not to be counted but weighed. But no one has as yet pointed out the scales,
though no one has come closer to doing so and offered more help than the jurists. I
have therefore thought a good bit about this matter and hope sometime to fill this
need. This will also serve the art of exegesis and therefore be of use in theology. And it
contains an infallible judge of conflicts, not indeed permitting us always to discover
the truth, since God has often kept that for himself in the supreme secrets and has not
revealed to us what we should like to know. But one can at least determine, first,
whether the matter is perfectly proved, and then, if it is not, whether and to wha:t
extent it has been given credibility. I once carried out an experiment with a scholar in a
semimathematical controversy. We were both seeking the truth, and we exchanged
letters which, though courteous, were not without mutual complaints that each
unintentionally distorted the meanings and utterances of the other. So I proposed the
syllogistic form, which was agreeable to my opponent. We carried the matter beyond
the twelfth prosyllogism, and from the time we began this, complaints ceased, and we
understood each other, to the advantage of both sides. 8 Since it is an easy and pleasant
practice to arrange and rearrange syllogisms and prosyllogisms in formal replies, we
should be able to use this method to get to the bottom of important scientific problems
and to help free ourselves of dreams and conjectures. For the very nature of our
procedure will eliminate all repetition, irrelevance, and unnecessary prolixity, as
well as all deficiencies and omissions, whether intentional or unintentional, and
finally, all disorder, misunderstanding, and dishonest conduct of the argument as well.
This is what I wanted to say about the great, and for the most part tested, advantages
of the known logic when it is rightly used. But I consider it certain that the art of reason-
ing can be carried incomparably higher and believe not only that I see this but that
I already have a foretaste of it, which I could hardly have attained, however, without
mathematics. Though I found some basis for it even before I was a novice in mathe-
matics, and had already printed something about it in my twentieth year, I have
finally come to see how blocked are the ways to it and how hard it would have been to
open them without the aid of the deeper mathematics. What can actually be accom-
plished here is in my judgment of such scope that I cannot expect adequately to be
believed without actual examples, and so must postpone a further exposition.

I shall therefore break off for this time and comment on the objections which you
raise to logic. I find that they apply only to its abuse or misuse.
1. Logic as the art of reasoning may serve the purposes of order and of good
discourse, even though those who teach it neither order nor speak well. This merely
means that they do not well understand or at least do not well practice their art. For
one may understand everything that Ptolemy, Aristoxenus, and Zarlinus have written
about music and yet not be able to sing or play.
2. If no one is convinced by logic, the reason for this is that no one takes the form
or the orderly process seriously but uses it only for the amusement of youth or rather,
hardly tries to use it at all.
3. There is some truth in the assertion that a great part of the arts were discovered
and can be taught with a purely natural logic. But a reasonable man who understands
neither writing nor numbers can also calculate with a natural arithmetic when ne-
cessary; does this prove that mathematics amounts to nothing? I myself am of the
opinion that mathematics, history, and other subjects should be learned before an
extensive mastery of logic, for how can one order one's thoughts who has never thought
of much? But once provided with a store of good ideas, one can survey and measure
them, and with the help of the order that is uncovered in them, one can all the more
readily discover something new. This is similar to the art of speech. I am of the
opinion that in learning a language one should stick to practice rather than to gram-
mar. But once one is fairly proficient in the language, its grammar will help carry him
further in it. In addition to all this, I must also mention the fact that Plato achieved
a good bit in logic and that disputation by means of questions also has its uses. I do
not think that Archimedes and Descartes can be considered as despisers of logic; Des-
cartes at least studied it most industriously under the Jesuits at la Fleche and was well
at home in the Scholastic philosophy, which contains much that is good if it can only
be dug out. I value Jung very highly and cannot adequately lament the loss of his
manuscripts. 9 Nor do I put Felden in any low category, and the other scholars whom
you mention are also not to be despised.
4. But I cannot admit that logic has made no discoveries. Everything discovered by
the understanding has been discovered through the good rules of logic, although they
may not have been explicitly noted or written down at the start. A good painter who
has through practice mastered true proportions uses the art of measuring and per-
spective, for even though he has not described or expressly known of these arts, their
basis is in him. Meanwhile painting has become far more perfect since perspective has
become a part of the art ofknowledge.
5. There is no doubt that a man who is skilled in the advantages of the art of reason-
ing proceeds with more acuteness than others.
6. Men are reasonable without a formulated science of reasoning, just as they can
sing without the art of music. But if as much industry had been applied to the true art
of reasoning as has been expended on the art of singing, men would have accom-
plished wonders. We have neglected this because we pay little attention to things which
are not immediately noticeable to the external senses. Cicero has well said that nothing
is more beautiful than virtue, but how few see it! As for your remarks on the explana-
tion of words, it will suffice to point out that these explanations at once involve the
discovery of their cause, provided they are made by means of the definitions which I
call real and which I have explained elsewhere. To take an example which is a little
more difficult than the one you offer (why 3 times 4 is 12), why are the results of the
successive addition of odd numbers always perfect squares? Thus
1+3+5+7 +9 +11+13 1= 1
I I I I I I I or 3 + 1 = 4
1 4 9 16 25 36 49, etc. 5+ 4= 9
7 + 9 = 16,
9+16= 25, etc.
In discovering the reason for this, we shall also discover the right use of the art of
thought.
7. I have already admitted your assertion that everything may be learned without
the art of judgment and have replied to it. Just as the Chinese have done many excel-
lent things with only a natural art of measurement, so most things have been found out
without using a proper art of thinking. Yet the value and utility of the art of thinking
is established, as is that of the art of measuring.
8. It is true that the art of thinking must first be sought in examples of good thinking
about things used as models. But after it has been found in these, we may attend
directly to the art, so that it may itself become good and serve as a model, though
without abandoning the practice and study of good thinking. A painter, sculptor, or
architect studies ancient models and formulates an ideal from them. But these matters
have also been reduced to rules which can be followed. Yet no one stops viewing
beautiful works of art.
9. In spite of the transience and the complexity of human attitudes, there is only one
art of thinking, although each person may follow his own inclinations in practice, just
as there is only one art of riding which applies to all riders and horses, though not
every saddle fits all horses. Numbers themselves may be grasped in many different
ways. It is true that mathematics is not in itself logic, but it is one of its firstborn and
applies it to magnitudes or to number, measure, and weight. I have discovered, too,
that algebra derives its advantages from a much higher art, namely, the true logic.
10. Logic contains much that is difficult and much that is easy, just as does mathe-
matics. What is easier than the first lesson in numbers, and what is more difficult than
finding irrational roots? One may reasonably begin with the easiest and save the diffi-
cult until other sciences have been mastered. The beginnings will serve as a foretaste
for youth, but the higher truths, both in logic and in arithmetic, belong to those who
have come far in knowledge and in expression and wish to rise even higher. It is well
known that Aristotle says of ethics, and Grotius of rhetoric, that they do not belong
to students. I understand this to mean the higher use of these sciences, for Aristotle
would not deprive youth of the Civilitas Morum, nor would Grotius forbid the Pro-
gymnasmata of Aphthonius. 10
11. I should hold that all the consequences lie in the conclusions and not in the
premises except only insofar as the latter involve something commensurate with the
conclusions. This is true in all applications of science to contingent matters.11 The art of
practice consists in bringing accidents themselves under the yoke of science. The more
we do this, the more does theory conform to practice. For example, long ago only the
force of motion was considered in mechanics. Galileo began to study mathematically
the strength of the bodies used in motion and raised the question of which forms of the

same matter offer the most resistance. Later I bettered and increased his rules. GaIiIeo
treated the motion of heavy bodies without considering the resistance of air. Blondel,
in writing on bombs, also thinks that this is not necessary. On both rational and
empirical grounds I hold the contrary.
12. The common logic is indeed often in error. What it says of genus and differentia
needs improvement, for one can make a differentia out of the genus and vice versa, or
to speak whimsically but truthfully, one can say that man is an animal rational being
with as much right as that man is a rational animal. When I say that a cube is a regular
parallelopiped, I can take either term for genus or differentia.
13. I leave undecided the question of how far one may say that the pure logician is an
ass. Scaliger said the same thing about mathematicians. Even a coachman could serve
no purpose among men away from his coach or stable, if he showed no signs of under-
standing.
14. Pure mathematics proves nothing against logic. For it has borrowed much
from logic, and it also comes to the rescue of logic, for its example serves to warn
people, as may be seen in your twenty-third exercise. The spiral of Archimedes, which
you mention there, is not so wonderful as may be thought. If something is continuous-
ly lifted more than it falls, is there any wonder that it is finally elevated? What you say
of tangent angles also has its limits, if rightly understood. If you admit infinite exten-
sion, it follows of course that one angle is greater than another. Your remark in the
twentieth exercise, that there may be a moving object that is without motion, is not
opposed to reason but only to the common semblance of it, and hence it is a paradox.
It must also be observed that the axis is not a part [of a revolving sphere]. Furthermore,
just as it is not proper to be always making verses, so it is improper to be always
throwing syllogisms about. To define or limit all terms is as little needed as to divide all
numbers into their factors. I hold that juristic definitions too are logical.
15. IfIogicis nothing but a bag full of good reminders, it is certainly not futile. I have
no praise for the new logicians who condemn the old rather than improve it. It is not
always in our power to find the truth when not enough data are at hand, but we can
always guard against error if we have time to think about a matter and to discover
everything possible from the data - if we bring logic to full perfection. I have brought
matters so far with my infinitesimal calculus of differences and sums that many
problems can now be solved in mathematical physics which one could not even venture
to try before. Even when data are lacking, we can at least observe what data we do need.
If we had adequate practice in the true art of reason, it would also help us to thoughts
which we must grasp on the spur of the moment, but for the time being, we still lack
most of such an art, and I have not had time to examine this point. I also admit that
when a logician gives a rule without an example, it is like trying to learn to duel with
mere verbal instructions.
17. There is much that is excellent in Realis de Vienna, and this may be why he is
not generally refuted. As for me, I lay little importance in refutation but much in
exposition. When a new book reaches me, I search for what I can learn, not for what
I can critize in it.
18. I think that the Sorbonne and other colleges are not to be despised. So far as I
know, logic is in no more disrepute in France and England than in Germany. Yet I must
agree that the most learned people do well to use few Scholastic terms, especially in
writing for general readers. Otherwise they are like a tailor who lets the seams show,
as Mr. Dilher once appropriately said to me in discussing the use of such terms in pulpits.
In conclusion, I agree with you that without making much ado about logic and such
fields, we should lead youth at once into the factual sciences, just as I hold that lan-
guages are to be learned primarily through use, even through grammar is not to be
rejected but to be used at the proper time for greater accuracy of speech. I hope these
remarks, which have grown more extended than I had planned, will suffice to show
you my thoughts and that they may serve to conciliate or moderate, since both sides do
presuppose the art of reason, even though you try to restrict it to pure mathematics
only, where it appears in its most beautiful form, though not entirely or exclusively. If I
should have the good fortune to make peace between you and the common teaching
tradition, it would give me much pleasure, for the result would be that you could find
a greater opportunity not merely to attack what is useless but to construct, without
being hindered, something of value for our common use.
REFERENCES
1 On Huetsee No. 31, and p. 276, note 11. Huet had written a Censuraphilosophiae Cartesianae
in 1689, in which he charged that Cartesianism was subversive to the church. The work is
discussed in Leibniz's correspondence with Nicaise.
2 Peter Ramus (1515-72), Calvinistic philosopher, attacked the Aristotelian logic as artificial
and remote from the natural logic of the mind and proposed a logic of discovery and judgment
which he conceived as being closely related to rhetoric. The Semi-Ramists or Philippo-Ramists
sought a mediating position in the controversy between Ramists and Aristotelians (or in the
Protestant universities, Philippists, after Melanchthon). Leibniz's combination, a little later in
the letter, of Aristotelian topics with Ramist loci suggests the influence of Semi-Ramism.
3 The German terms used by Leibniz are Beweisslichkeiten and Beleglichkeiten. They correspond
in general to the two dimensions of thought - ratiocination and representation - corresponding
to the formal relational and the empirical aspects of knowledge (see Introduction, Sec. V).
4 On relations in recto and obliquo see p. 246, note 3. Leibniz's extension of the predicables
beyond Porphyry's, to include the oblique relations of subjects, points to a fundamental
difficulty in his theory that the predicate is included in the subject in every true affirmative
proposition.
S Vincent Placcius (1642-99), lawyer and patron of scholars, was engaged in correspondence
with Leibniz at this time.
6 See The Art o/Thinking, Book III, chap. I. On Leibniz's knowledge of the authorship of this
work see p. 60, note 28.
7 The classification of the valid modes of the four figures was one of the more important
applications of the first two problems in the Art 0/ Combinations (1666) (Vol. I, No.1).
8 The allusion is probably to the correspondence with Papin on the Cartesian theory of gravity
and the conservation of quantity of motion, which resulted in Leibniz publishing 'De legibus
naturae et vera aestimatione virium motricium contra Cartesianos', Acta eruditorum, Septem-
ber, 1691 (cf. Cout. L., p. 2, n. 1).
9 See p. 130, note 4. Both Jung and Felden had been mentioned with approval in the letter
to Thomasius in 1669 and the Preface to Nizolius in 1670.
10 Aphthonius of Antioch, a rhetorician of the late 3rd and early 4th centuries, edited the
Progymnasmata of Hermogenes of Tarsus as a textbook. The De civilitate morum puerilium
(1530) was the best known of Desiderius Erasmus' pedagogical works. Both books were still
widely used as schoolbooks in the 17th century.
11 All inference is therefore synthetic in matters of fact, and predicates are only incompletely
or partially in their subjects.
49
LETTERS TO DES BILLETTES

1696-97
Gilles Filleau (or Failaiseau) des Billettes was a pensioner of the Academy of Sciences in
Paris and a distinguished expert in the arts and crafts, with wide and in/luental acquain-
tances. Like the Duke de Roanez, he had been a close friend ofPascal.
Leibniz had known him during his Paris years and later called him "one of my oldest
friends in France". The letters written to him contain popular expositions of Leibniz's
philosophical ideas and throw some light upon his motives as a thinker.
[G., VII, 451-54]

December 4/14, 1696
Your health and your welfare, Sir, of which health is the more essential, have given me
great joy. I am glad, too, that one can go to La Trappe without losing his fine curiosity
and taking an aversion to terrestrial things; this could be good for certain people
only. The gazette has already informed me of the death of the Duke de Roanez, for
which I am sorry. You say, Sir, that the Duke had gone to the country in the interest of
your works of navigation. Be so good as to tell me what these are and continue your
kindness in sending me incidents which have to do with the sciences, as you have
begun. Imagine that I were in Paris, having the honor of seeing you in the suburb
St. Jacques as in former times, where the meetings seem since to have been banned.
I thank you very much for what you wrote about Mr. Dalesme, inventor of the pneu-
matic tubes for carrying forces a great distance, and also for your story about the
calculation of games of chance. But you forgot to give me the name of the Poitevin
gentleman, the great gambler who thought of this application of mathematics. Most
games could in fact give occasion for sound thinking, and I should like to have his
views, as well as those of other gamesters. A small discourse of Mr. Huygens on the
game of dice [de ludo aleae] is printed in the Exercitationes of Francis Schooten. It is a
work separate from his commentary on Descartes's geometry. 1
My system, about which you are interested in hearing some news, Sir, is not a com-
plete body of philosophy, and I do not at all claim to give a reason for everything
that others have claimed to explain. One must advance slowly to advance with sure
steps. I begin with the principles, and I hope to be able to satisfy most doubts like those
which perplexed the late Mr. Bernier. I believe that everything really happens mecha-
nically in nature, and can be explained by efficient causes, but that at the same time
everything also takes place morally, so to speak, and can be explained by final causes.
These two kingdoms, the moral one of minds and souls and the mechanical one of
bodies, penetrate each other and are in perfect accord through the agency of the
Author of things, who is at the same time the first efficient cause and the last end. I
claim, then, that just as there is no vacuum in bodies, no more is there one in souls;
that is, that there are souls everywhere, and that souls which once exist cannot perish.
Bodies are multitudes and souls are unities, but they are unities which express or
represent within themselves the multitude. Every soul is a mirror of the entire world
according to its point of view. But minds are souls of the first order or the highest genus,
which represent not only the world but also God in the world. So they are not only
immortal but conserve for always their moral qualities as citizens of the republic of the
universe, which lacks nothing because it is God who rules it. My explanation of the
union of soul and body is found in the thirty-eighth issue of the Journal des savants for
this year.2
But I come to the points which you raise. As for gravity, Mr. Newton has shown us a
proportion of which, however, I already knew something; the planets show us that
weights or attractions are reciprocally proportional to the squares of their distances.
A heavy body, that is three times as far from the center of attraction will have only
one-ninth of the weight. Now I find that this agrees with the action of light rays, for a
fluid that is thin but solid will also take the form of emitted rays as it becomes distant
from the center. It agrees also with motion away from the center along a tangent,
which Kepler was the first to apply to gravity, Descartes following him in this. But
merely the instantaneous conatus of the centrifugal force is not sufficient to form either
light or gravity, as Descartes believed; a true motion of emission must be developed,
like a puffing wind, which requires time. Now the emission of a heavier or more
compact fluid necessarily creates the attraction of bodies which are less so. As for
light, I believe that an explosion is involved in the luminous body, as if an infinite
number of air guns [arquebuses a vent] were being discharged continuously. I hold also
that all perceptible bodies are remarkably porous and permit more passage through
them than we imagine. But when these passages are irregular, as when bodies are very
dense or very mixed, they turn from transparent, as they really are, to opaque.
I imagine that everything is continuous as well as contiguous, that is that things differ in
degree and in appearance. The whole world is like a pond of matter in which there are
different currents and waves. As for the sensibility o/matter, I have already mentioned
the souls which exist throughout it, and I believe that it is not properly the matter
which is sensitive, since this is nothing but an aggregate of substances rather than one
substance, but that it is rather the corporeal substance, which always has something
analogous to feeling and life, being provided with an organic matter as well as a soul or
if you will, a form.
The action of percussion comes solely from elasticity, the operation of which arises
only from the fact that the motion of the surrounding matter is troubled and impeded
when it is inclosed, a little like the current of a river when it is narrowed. The force of
fermentation, of cold and hot, of gunpowder, etc., can be explained by something
analogous to the force of air guns or of a spring. For instance, it is not the little mass
of gunpowder which causes so great an effect but the surrounding matter, as I have
already said about elasticity. Calculating the action of powder, I find that the com-
pression of air easily suffices to explain it. But I dare not hope that we shall very soon
enter into the details of such matters. The origin 0/ winds is due in part to the motion of
the earth and to that of the light and heat from the sun on the earth, and even in part,
from the moon. Without speaking of exhalations to explain the magnet, these particles
twisted into folds seem quite unnecessary; it suffices that the openings are so adjusted

to what passes through them that after this passage has continued for some time, its
return is prevented and is against the grain, so to speak. A contrary effort changes
these folds, however, and reverses them. As for the variation, we must labor to inform
ourselves further about the fact.
Except for the general principles on the nature of corporeal substance, of force, and
of the structure of the universe, which it is important to establish firmly, 1 find that
our progress in physics is not yet very notable. All that we can do at present for
medicine and the arts (I exclude mathematics, and mechanics which depends on
mathematics) is to observe the universal customs of nature, so to speak, in order to
rule ourselves according to them. It is true that 1 believe that men will soon go much
further if they press their point and profit by the methods which they have at hand.
The Marquis de l'Hospital has himself had the goodness to throw light on my new
infinitesimal calculus in the notable work which he has recently published. 3 1 also call
it the calculus of differences and sums. If peace is made, 1 believe there will be a way
to introduce my arithmetical machine in France and that you will do me the honor
of supporting it with your approval if you find it worthy.4
1 beg you to send a few more details about Mr. Gayot, whose ability in mechanics
you esteem so highly. Your testimony in such a matter is worth more than letters
patent of the king. 1 must ask you a question. Can't one make some small bellows
entirely out of steel of or some other metal, similar to a folding lantern? There would
have to be thin strips at the places which must be flexible. This could be used to make a
portable barometer like a watch, which would last a long time and would need no
mercury or any other liquid, nor a fixed position. The use of barometers is important,
as you know, in predicting the changes in the air. 5 You have many excellent ideas, Sir,
of a mechanical as well as an economic-political nature. Why let them perish? Reflect
on them a little, 1 pray you; you owe it to the public and to the honor of your nation.
The Duke de Roanez had good ideas about water courses. Did he put anything in
writing? 1 do not know whether you have seen the book on this subject by Mr. Gugliel-
mini of Bologna. Mr. Papin has found many difficulties in it. Why haven't the Perier
brothers published the mathematical essays of Pascal which they showed me? 6 So-
meone has told me that you have ideas for the improvement of printing; that would
also be most useful. What is the present condition of what was once called the party
of Port Royal? Does it still subsist in spite of the death of Mr. Arnauld and Mr.
Nicole, and who are its buttresses? It seems to me that there are tools fit to facilitate
the manufacture of clock wheels. This would help my arithmetical machine, which
contains many such wheels. 1 beg you, Sir, to send me your opinion.
II
[GM., VII, 455-581
Hanover, October 11/21, 1697
.,. Certainly we cannot gain over force; all that depends on us is to use it well. My
fundamental maxim in mechanics, drawn from metaphysics, is that the cause and the
total effect are always equivalent in such a way that the effect, if it were completely
turned around, could always reproduce its cause exactly, and neither more nor less.
So if the machinist who is trying to improve coaches sins against this principle, he will
accomplish nothing of value. Thus someone told me, one day in Paris, that some
German was said to have made a wooden horse which drew a carriage six German
leagues in six hours by means of banded steel springs, as if it were possible to store so
much force in so small a number of these springs. When I investigated, there was noth-
ing to it. Yet it is true that we do not take enough advantage of the forces which nature
supplies ....
Peace is made, and so I expect to hear that the arts and sciences are regaining force
and vigor in France. You charm me besides, Sir, by telling me such beautiful things
about the intentions and the zeal of the Abbe Bignon for advancing them. 7 My
correspondence with Mr. PeIlisson went further than with him, because our letters were
more frequent. Aside from the very kind expressions of which the letters of the Abbe
Bignon were full, no opportunity was found for a greater communication of our
views. He must have greater and more beautiful ones than I, and what is the main
thing, he has the opportunity to carry them out. This pleases me, for often those who
have the authority do not have enough light or enough ardor. I give way to him in
everything except zeal. Provided that something of importance is achieved, I am in-
different whether it is done in Germany or in France, for I seek the good of mankind.
I am neither a phil-Hellene nor a philo-Roman but a phil-anthropos. And I seek this,
too, without desiring the slightest advantage from it, so that if I can contribute to his
excellent plans, he may make free use of me without fear of being embarrassed. It is
this that I beg you to tell him when an occasion arises. My work is not yet finished, so
there is no hurry about it, and if there is some other difficulty which prevents the kind
of printing of which he spoke, I will appreciate being informed of it in order to guide
myself accordingly. I do not want to be importunate to anyone, and I have scruples
against receiving a favor which I am not sure is being done me with pleasure. Since I
know that some of your able geometricians often speak against the methods which
I have proposed and which persons of importance and merit have carried further,
without our having been able to get the critics to offer their objections in writing, I
imagine that these men fear to give authority to my work by such a printing. 8 And it
would be an injustice for me to wish the Abbe Bignon, in order to do me a favor, to
disfavor persons whom he sees every day. If this is the cause of the difficulty, I shall
esteem and honor him no less, and I shall be no less eager to give witness to my zeal
toward him on every other occasion. I tell you these things sincerely and frankly, as to
a common friend. And you will oblige me, Sir, if you will enlighten me about them.
What good is dissimulation between people who ought to treat each other with
realism and who ought to place themselves above the trifles which embarrass common
people.
I believe that the descriptions of a good part of the arts can be made within the time
which you mention, and I say that this will already be much. But since time is, in my
opinion, the most precious of all things outside of ourselves over which we have con-
trol, I believe that one should almost double the number of persons in order to gain
half of the time, if possible ....
REFERENCES
1 Francis Schooten's Exercitationes mathematicae (1657) contained Huygen's paper De ratio-

ciniis in aleae ludo, the beginning of the modem study of probability. The gambler mentioned
was Antoine Gomboult, the Chevalier de Mere, as the account in the New Essays, IV, 16,9,
shows. On Leibniz's conception of the importance of games see p. 61, note 39.
2 See No. 47.
3 See p. 420, note 8.
4 The Treaty of Ryswick was signed September 20, 1697.
5 The first aneroid barometer was patented by Vidie in 1845.
6 To the inquiry about Pascal's mathematical manuscripts, Des Billettes replied as follows (May
28, 1697): "There remains only the one Perier who is priest and dean of some chapter in Cler-
mont in Auvergne, his birthplace, and a sister worthy of them and their uncle [pascal]. You
need not expect the works of the latter. Either they would have published them, or they did not
judge them fitting to be brought to light."
7 Jean Paul Bignon, abbot of St. Quentin, was president of the Academy and director of the
Royal Library, one of the co-founders of the Journal des savants. On the work which Leibniz
sought to have published at the Louvre see p. 420, note 8.
S On the controversies already in process about the validity and clarity of Leibniz's calculus
of infinitesimals see the introduction to No. 56, below.
50
TENTAMEN ANAGOGICUM: AN ANAGOGICAL ESSAY IN

THE INVESTIGATION OF CAUSES
Ca. 1696
Leibniz agreed with the Cartesians that natural events are to be explained mechanistically.
but he insisted that the consideration of.final causes was of significance in the derivation
of mechanical laws themselves. As example he submitted a demonstration of the laws of
refraction and reflection as a special case, maximally determined, of an infinite number of
possible laws. His argument, historically important as the beginning of the famous
dispute on the principle of least action in the 18th century, and the revived interest in a
principle of the extremum today, was first published in the Acta eruditorum in June,
1682.1 This clear and concise formulation is obviously later. The form and content suggest
that it may be a continuation of the Specimen dynamicum (No. 46). The mention of the
celebrated brachistochrone problem dates it after June, 1696, however, when John Ber-
noulli first proposed this problem. The essay remained unpublished until Gerhardt included
it in his edition.
[G., VII, 270-79]
12 have shown on several occasions that the final analysis of the laws of nature leads us
to the most sublime principles of order and perfection, which indicate that the universe
is the effect of a universal intelligent power. As the ancients already held, this truth is
the chieffruit of our investigations; without mentioning Pythagoras and Plato, whose
primary aim was such an analysis, even Aristotle sought to demonstrate a prime mover
in his works, particularly in his Metaphysics. It is true that these ancient thinkers were
not informed about the laws of nature as are we, since they lacked many of the me-
thods which we have and of which we ought to take advantage. The knowledge of
nature gives birth to the arts, it gives us many means of conserving life, and it even
provides us with conveniences; but the satisfaction of spirit which comes from wisdom
and virtue, in addition to being the greatest ornament of life, raises us to what is
eternal, whereas this life, in contrast, is most brief. As a result, whatever serves to
establish maxims which locate happiness in virtue and show that everything follows
the principle of perfection is infinitely more useful to man, and even to the state, than
all that serves the arts. Discoveries useful to life, moreover, are very often merely the
corollaries of more important insights; it is true here too that those who seek the king-
dom of God find the rest on their way.
The inquiry into final causes in physics is precisely the application of the method
which I think ought to be used, and those who have sought to banish it from their
philosophy have not adequately considered its usefulness. For I do not wish to do
them the injury of thinking that they have evil designs in doing this. Others followed
them, however, who have abused their position, and who, not content with excluding

final causes from physics but restoring them elsewhere, have tried to destroy them
entirely and to show that the Creator of the universe is most powerful, indeed, but
without any intelligence. There have been still others who have not admitted any
universal cause, like the ancients who recognized nothing in the universe but a con-
course of corpuscles. This seems plausible to those minds in whom the imaginative
faculty predominates 3, because they believe that they need to use only mathematical
principles, without having any need either for metaphysical principles, which they treat
as illusory, or for principles of the good, which they reduce to human morals; as if
perfection and the good were only a particular result of our thinking and not to be
found in universal nature.
I recognize that it is rather easy to fall into this error, especially when one's thinking
stops at what imagination alone can supply, namely, at magnitudes and figures and
their modifications. But when one pushes forward his inquiry after reasons, it is
found that the laws of motion cannot be explained through purely geometric principles
or by imagination alone. This is also why some very able philosophers of our day have
held that the laws of motion are purely arbitrary. They are right in this if they take
arbitrary to mean coming from choice and not from geometric necessity, but it is
wrong to extend this concept to mean that laws are entirely indifferent, since it can be
shown that they originate in the wisdom of their Author or in the principle of greatest
perfection, which has led to their choice.
This consideration gives us the true middle term that is needed for satisfying truth as
well as piety. We know that while there have been, on the one hand, able philosophers
who recognized nothing except what is material in the universe, there are, on the other
hand, learned and zealous theologians who, shocked at the corpuscular philosophy
and not content with checking its misuse, have felt obliged to maintain that there are
phenomena in nature which cannot be explained by mechanical principles; as for
example, light, weight, and elastic force. But since they do not reason with exactness in
this matter, and it is easy for the corpuscular philosophers to reply to them, they injure
religion in trying to render it a service, for they merely confirm those in their error who
recognize only material principles. The true middle term for satisfying both truth and
piety is this: all natural phenomena could be explained mechanically if we understood
them well enough, but the principles of mechanics themselves cannot be explained
geometrically, since they depend on more sublime principles which show the wisdom
of the Author in the order and perfection of his work.
The most beautiful thing about this view seems to me to be that the principle of per-
fection is not limited to the general but descends also to the particulars of things and of
phenomena and that in this respect it closely resembles the method of optimal forms,
that is to say, of forms which provide a maximum or minimum, as the case may be - a
method which I have introduced into geometry in addition to the ancient method of
maximal lind minimal quantities. For in these forms or figures the optimum is found not
only in the whole but also in each part, and it would not even suffice in the whole
without this. For example, if in the case of the curve of shortest descent between two
given points, we choose any two points on this curve at will, the part of the line inter-
cepted between them is also necessarily the line of shortest descent with regard to
them:' It is in this way that the smallest parts of the universe are ruled in accordance
with the order of greatest perfection; otherwise the whole would not be so ruled.
It is for this reason that I usually say that there are, so to speak, two kingdoms even
in corporeal nature, which interpenetrate without confusing or interfering with each

other - the realm of power, according to which everything can be explained mecha-
nically by efficient causes when we have sufficiently penetrated into its interior, and the
realm of wisdom, according to which everything can be explained architectonically 5,
so to speak, or by final causes when we understand its ways sufficiently. In this sense
one can say with Lucretius not only that animals see because they have eyes but also
that eyes have been given them in order to see, :though I know that some people, in
order the better to pass as free thinkers, admit only the former. Those who enter into
the details of natural machines, however, must have need of a strong bias to resist the
attractions of their beauty. Even Galen, after learning something about the function
of the parts of animals, was so stirred with admiration that he held that to explain
them was essentially to sing hymns to the honor of divinity. I have often wished that an
able physicist would undertake to prepare a special work whose title - or whose aim
at least - would be The Hymn olGalen.
What is more, our thinking sometimes furnishes us with considerations revealing
the value of final causes, not merely in increasing our admiration for the supreme
Author, but also in making discoveries among his works. Some day I shall show this in
a special case in which I shall propose as a general principle of optics that a ray of
light moves from one point to another by the path which is found to be easiest in rela-
tion to the plane surfaces which must serve as the rule for other surfaces. For it must
be kept in mind that if we claimed to use this principle as an efficient cause, and as if
the easiest path would prevail among all the possible competing rays, it would be
necessary to consider the whole surface as it is, without considering the plane tangent
to it, and then the principle would not always work out successfully, as I shall show
presently. 6 But far from concealing that there is a certain final cause involved in this
principle - an objection which was once made against Mr. Fermat, who had used it in
his Dioptrics - I have found it more beautiful and more important than that of mecha-
nism for a more sublime application. And an able author who has published a work on
optics in England has expressed his indebtedness to my view. 7 Order demands that
curved lines and surfaces be treated as composed of straight lines and planes, and a ray
is determined by the plane on which it falls, which is considered as forming the curved
surface at that point. But the same order demands that the effect of the greatest ease be
obtained in relation to the planes, at least those which serve as elements to other
surfaces, since it cannot be obtained with regard to these surfaces also. This is all the
more true since it thus satisfies, with respect to these curves, another principle which
now supersedes the preceding one, and which holds that in the absence of a minimum
it is necessary to hold to the most determined, which can be the simplest even when it is
a maximum.
Now we find that the ancients, and among others Ptolemy, already used this
hypothesis of the easiest path of a ray which falls on a plane, to account for the equa-
lity of the angles of incidence and reflection, the principle at the basis of catoptrics. It is
by this same hypothesis that Mr. Fermat provided a reason for the law of refraction
according to the sines, or to formulate it in other terms as Snell did, according to the
secants. But what is more, I have no doubt whatever that this law was first discovered
by this method. It is known that Willebrord Snell, one of the greatest geometricians
of his time and well versed in the methods of the ancients, invented it, having even
written a work which was not published because of its author's death. But since he had

taught it to his disciples, all appearances point to the conclusion that Descartes, who
had come to Holland a little later and who was most interested in this problem, learned
it there. For the way in which Descartes has tried to explain the law of refraction by
efficient causes or by the composition of directions in imitation of the reflection of
bullets is extremely forced and not intelligible enough. To say no more about it here, it
shows clearly that it is an afterthought adjusted somehow to the conclusion and was not
discovered by the method he gives. So we may well believe that we should not have had
this beautiful discovery so soon without the method of final causes.
I recall that capable writers have frequently objected that this principle does not
seem to work in reflection itself when applied to curved surfaces and that in concave
mirrors the path of reflection happens sometimes to be the longest. But in addition to
what I have already said, that according to architectonic principles, curved surfaces
must be ruled by the planes tangent to them, I shall now explain how it remains always
universally true that the ray is directed in the most determined or unique path, even in
relation to curves. It is also worth noting that in the method of analysis by maxima
and minima, the same operation suffices for the problems of the greatest and the
smallest, without distinguishing between them except in applying the method to differ-
ent cases, since we seek the most determined magnitude in both cases, which is some-
times the greatest and sometimes the smallest in its order, the analysis being based
solely on the disappearance of a difference or on the unique result of reuniting twins,
and not at all on a comparison of the greatest and smallest with all other magnitudes.
For given a curve AB, concave or convex, and an axis ST to which the ordinates of the
curve are referred; then it is seen that to each ordinate, like Q or R, there corresponds
another one equal to it, its twin, q or r (Figure 33). But there is one particular ordinate
G
Fig. 33.
Ee which is unique, or the only determinate one of its magnitude, and has no twin,
since the two twins Ee and ec coincide in it and make but one. And this Ee is the
greatest ordinate of the concave curve and the smallest of the convex curve. So instead
of two infinitely near ordinates in all other cases, having a difference of dm if the
ordinate is called m, whose ratio to Ee, a correspondingly small part of the axis,
would give the angle of the curve or of its tangent to the axis ST, the infinitely close
ordinates or twins become coincident in this case at C and have no difference; dm

becomes 0, and the tangent at C is parallel to the axis. Thus the basis of the analysis is
this uniqueness caused by the union of the twins, without any concern as to whether the
ordinate is the greatest or smallest. The calculus shows us this in particular, in this very
matter. Let ACB be any mirror whatever, plane, concave, or convex; and let two points
Fand G be given (Figure 34). To find the point of reflection C, such that the path FCG
A B
A-3-~~~-B
A B
F
Fig. 34.
is the unique, singular, or most determined path in size, or what the ancients once called
the /-IOVIXXOV, either the greatest or the smallest, that is, whichever it happens to be. For
those which are not unique in this sense are doubles or twins, having another of the same
length corresponding to them. Draw FG, whose middle point is H, and between C and
FG draw CB perpendicular to FG, and CP perpendicular to the mirror. Call HF or HG a,
H B x, CB y; then BP will be - ydy, dx being taken negatively. Then CF will be v y2 +
shortest, though it is in fact the shortest when that which should provide the rule is
v
i2 -2ax--t- a 2, and CG will be y2 + x 2 + 2ax + a 2. Now CF + CG = m. Differen-
tiating, one gets d· CF + d· CG = 0; that is,
ydy + xdx - adx ydy +xdx + adx 0
--~-- + CG -- =
or
CF (a - x - ydy) dx
CG (a + x + ydy) dx .
But a - x is BF and a + x is GB. Therefore
CF BF+BP
CG GB - BP,'
or
CF PF
CG PG
This shows that the angle of direction FCG is bisected by CP, the perpendicular to the
curve 8, or that the angles of incidence and of reflection are equal, whatever may be the
reflecting surface.
The same truth holds also with regard to refraction; that is, whether the surface of

separation be plane or curved, provided only that it be uniformly determined, the

broken ray always passes from a point in one medium to a point in the other medium
by the most determined or unique path, which has, so to speak, no twin brother in
length of time. This is something I do not remember having seen commented on before.
It is easy to prove it by an analysis similar to that given above. Let a figure be set up just
like that above, except that instead of a mirror there is a surface A CB, fiat, concave, or
convex, which separates two media penetrated by the ray, and which changes its
direction. The ratio of the resistance of the medium ACBF to that of the medium
AGCBshaII be as/tog; then/·CF+g·CG = m.
Differentiating, we get
/ (y'ly + xdx - adx) 9 (ydy + xdx + adx) _ 0
CF + CG - ,
and as a result (calculating as above),
CF /·PF
CG=g'PG'
Now it is easy to derive from this theorem the proportionality of sines. For let the
G'
A B
A----~~~~~~~~----B
A B
M' M
Fig. 35.
ray FC strike the refracting surface ACB at C, and let the refracted ray, CG, be taken
equal to the incident ray FC. Draw FG cutting the straight line CP perpendicular to
the surface, at P. From points F and G draw normals FL and GN to CP (Figure 35).
Now since CG and CF are taken equal, it follows by the equation of the preceding
paragraph that PF is to PG as 9 to f. Then because of the similar triangles PLF and
PNG the sine FL will be to the sine GN as 9 to [9, that is, reciprocally as the resistances
of the media. And the sines of the angles of refraction will be proportional to the
sines of the angles of incidence. 1 0
This makes us see, finally, that the rule of the unique path, or the path most deter-
mined in length of time, applies generally to the direct and the broken ray, whether
reflected or refracted, whether by plane or by curved surfaces, whether convex or con-
cave, without distinguishing in the process whether the time is the longest or the
shortest, though it is in fact the shortest when that which should provide the rule is
taken into consideration, that is, the tangent plane; nature being governed, as it is,
by sovereign wisdom, shows the general design throughout of controlling curves by
straight lines or planes tangent to them, as if the curves were composed of these,
although this is not strictly true.
One also comes in this way to understand some general theorems common to catop-
tries and dioptrics. For the rectangle constructed by multiplying the rayon one side of
the surface by the opposite segment of the base line (namely, the rectangle CF·PG)
is always proportional to the corresponding rectangle on the opposite side, made by
multiplying the ray of the oth~r side by the segment of the base opposite it (that is, the
rectangle CG· P F); or the ratio of the product of one side of the broken ray times the
opposite segment of the base, to the product of the other side of the ray by its opposite
segment is equal to the ratio of the resistances of the opposite media. In the case of
simple reflection, where the media have the same nature, this becomes the ratio of
equals, and then this theorem gives
CF·P"G"
~:---,:- - 111
CG" ·P"F-
or
CF· P"G" = CG" • P"F,
or, as above,
CF P"F
CG" = P"GH ;
that is, the angles of incidence and reflection are equal.

But there could still be a case of reflection mixed with refraction, of which the solu-
tion is easy; for that proposed by Descartes does not seem consistent with the nature of
light. The ray FC could at the same time meet the mirror A CB and the new medium
MCA or M'CA at C, in which case it would be reflected backward, but the angle of
reflection would not be equal to the angle of incidence. It will not be difficult to deter-
mine this, since one has only to think, in place of the ray FC, of the ray VIC which
would pass, if continued directly, into CG", and it will be found that the ray FC, falling
upon the mirror CB and into the new medium CM at the same time, will then be
turned, by reflection and refraction together. to go as the ray VIC would go if turned by
the refraction ofthe medium CM alone.

This principle still deserves to be studied empirically, however, not to determine the
quantity, but to see whether it can perhaps give us something specific, especially with
regard to colors. Thus I should also like to have someone investigate empirically ano-
ther transition from refraction to reflection, which occurs when the ray which strikes
the medium has taken on an obliqueness too great to penetrate it; I should like to have
this case, too, applied to colors as well as to a crystal of double reflection. 12 This also
deserves application, furthermore, to the experiences of color arising from refraction.
But this is said in passing.
This principle of nature, that it acts in the most determined ways which we may use,
is purely architectonic in fact, yet it never fails to be observed. Assume the case that
nature were obliged in general to construct a triangle and that for this purpose only the
perimeter or the sum of the sides were given, and nothing else; then nature would
construct an equilateral triangle. This example shows the difference between architec-
tonic and geometric determinations. Geometric determinations introduce an absolute
necessity, the contrary of which implies a contradiction, but architectonic determina-
tions introduce only a necessity of choice whose contrary means imperfection - a little
like the saying in jurisprudence: Quae contra bonos mores sunt, ea nec facere nos posse
credendum est. 13 So there is even in the algebraic calculus what I call the law of justice,
which greatly aids us in finding good solutions. If nature were brutish, so to speak,
that is, purely material or geometrical, the above case would be impossible, and unless
something more determinative were given than merely the perimeter, nature would not
produce a triangle. But since nature is governed architectonically, the half-determina-
tions of geometry are sufficient for it to achieve its work; otherwise it would most often
have been stopped. And this is particularly true with regard to the laws of nature. Per-
haps someone will deny that what I have said above applies to the laws of motion and
will maintain that an entirely geometric demonstration can be given of them. I reserve
the proof of the contrary for another discourse, where I shall show that they cannot be
derived from their sources without assuming architectonic grounds. One of the most
important of these, which I believe I am the first to have introduced into physics, is the
law of continuity, which I discussed many years ago in the Nouvelles de la republique
des lettres, where I showed with examples how it serves as the touchstone of theories. 14
It serves not merely to test, however, but also as a very fruitful principle of discovery,
as I plan to show some day. But I have also found other very beautiful and extended
laws of nature, quite different, however, from those usually employed, yet always
depending on architectonic principles. Nothing seems to me to be more effectual in
proving and admiring the sovereign wisdom of the Author of things as shown in the
very principles of things themselves.
REFERENCES
1 See Introduction, Sec. V and p, 61, note 36.
2 The text as given in G. begins with what is really a note added later by Leibniz (Cout. OF.,
p. 587). This note is as follows: "Whatever leads us to the supreme cause is called anagogical by
philosophers as well as theologians. So we begin here to show that no other reason can be given
for the laws of nature than the assumption of an intelligent cause. Or we show also that in the
investigation of final causes there are cases in which it is necessary to consider the simplest
or most determinate, without distinguishing whether this is a maximum or a minimum; that
the same thing is to be seen in the differential calculus; that the general laws for the direction
of a ray, derived from final causes, give a beautiful example of this, without distinguishing
whether the ray is reflected or refracted or whether the surface is curved or a plane. Certain new
general theorems can be derived which apply equally to refraction and reflection. We show
that the analysis of the laws of nature and the investigation of causes lead us to God; and how,
in the method of final causes as in the differential calculus, we do not consider maxima and
minima only, but the most determined and most simple in general." Leibniz also notes: "See
if some of these propositions are already to be found in Barrow or elsewhere."
3 That is, the faculty of interpretation within the limits of sensory perception (see p. 41,
note 12, and p. 553, note 3).
4 This is a clear allusion to the brachistochrone problem propounded by John Bernoulli in
1696; Leibniz restates the principle used by James Bernoulli in his solution: "If a curve has a
certain property of maximum or minimum, every portion or element in the curve also has the
same property" (see Mach, The Science of Mechanics, 5th English ed., pp. 521-29).
5 Leibniz follows the Aristotelian meaning ofthe term (Nic. Ethics i. 1) which applies to final
causes or ends as explanatory of subordinate ends. Leibniz's architectonic therefore differs
from Kant's in being metaphysical as well as methodological, though both rest upon a harmony
offorms or possibilities.
6 Leibniz's meaning in this difficult paragraph is made clearer by his actual analyses of
reflection and refraction which follow, in which he uses the plane tangent at the point of
incidence in place of the curved reflecting or refracting surface itself. His argument rests upon
the old discovery that maxima or minima involve in their determination the reduction of two
equal values to a single one. This principle he views as an instance of the metaphysical principle
of maximal determination or ofthe optimum.
7 Leibniz notes, "Mr. Molyneux" (see p. 452, note 16). On Fermat's interpretation of the
problem see Mach, The Principles ofPhysical Optics, New York 1925, p. 34.
8 A line drawn from a vertex of a triangle dividing the opposite side into segments proportional
to the adjacent sides bisects the angle at the vertex.
g Leibniz's marginal note: "From this another theorem can also be derived which is common
to catoptrics and dioptrics, and which seems most elegant to me. It as as follows. If two points
are taken in a broken ray in such a way that the line which joins them is divided equally by the
perpendicular to the surface of separation, the ratio of the two rays is always constant and
proportional to the resistances of the media. For example, if Fand G' are taken so that CP' cuts
FG' in two equal parts FP' and G'P', the ratio of ray FC to ray CG' will always be constant,
namely, as fto g. For this reason they are equal in the same medium, which is the case in
reflection. "
10 That is, the sines of angles FCL and GCP, since CF = CG.
11 The equation of G. is obviously incorrectly copied.
12 Iceland spar, whose property of double refraction had been discovered by Huygens and
was discussed in the correspondence of Leibniz with him in 1694.
13 "Things which are contrary to moral principles, we ought also to believe we are unable
to do."
14 See No. 37.
51
ON THE RADICAL ORIGINATION OF THINGS·

November 23,1697
Leibniz's shift of emphasis to a posteriori reasoning for the existence of God is nowhere
better exemplified than in this essay, unpublished until 1840, when Erdmann included it in
his edition. The new phase ofhis metaphysics is concerned with the implications ofparticu-
larity and its difference from mere possibility. The problem of the paper is the implication
of this particular natural order for the nature of the ultimate harmony of ideas, and it is
therefore also important for his hedonistic perfectionism in ethics and aesthetics. The
close relationship with the preceding and following essays will be apparent (Nos. 50, 52,
and 53). At the close there is a growing emphasis on temporal progress which is charac-
teristic ofLeibniz's later thought.
[G., VII, 302-8]
Besides the world or aggregate of finite things, there is a certain One which is dominant,
not only as the soul is dominant in me or rather, as the Ego itself is dominant in my
body, but also by a much higher reason. For the dominant One of the universe not only
rules the world but fabricates or makes it; it is superior to the world and, so to speak,
extramundane, and hence is the ultimate reason for things. For a sufficient reason for
existence cannot be found merely in anyone individual thing or even in the whole
aggregate and series of things. Let us imagine the book on the Elements of Geometry to
have been eternal, one copy always being made from another; then it is clear that
though we can give a reason for the present book based on ,the preceding book from
which it was copied, we can never arrive at a complete reasbn, no matter how many
books we may assume in the past, for one can always wond{!r why such books should
have existed at all times; why there should be books at all, and why they should be
written in this way. What is true qf books is true also of the different states of the world;
every subsequent state is somehow copied from the preceding one (although according
to certain laws of change). No matter how far we may have gone back to earlier states,
therefore, we will never discover in them a full reason why there should be a world at
all, and why it should be such as it is.
Even if we should imagine the world to be eternal, therefore, the reason for it would
clearly have to be sought elsewhere, since we would still be assuming nothing but a
succession of states, in anyone of which we can find no sufficient reason, nor can we
advance the slightest toward establishing a reason, no matter how many of these
states we assume. For even though there be no cause for eternal things, there must yet
be understood to be a reason for them. For permanent things this reason is their
necessity or essence itself; but in a series of changing things (if this is taken a priorP
to be eternal) it is a prevailing of inclinations, as we shall see presently, for here reasons
do not necessitate (in the sense of an absolute or metaphysical necessity. whose con-
trary implies a contradiction) but incline. These considerations show clearly that we
cannot escape an ultimate extramundane reason for things, or God, even by assuming
the eternity of the world.
The reasons for the world therefore lie in something extramundane, different from
the chain of states or series of things whose aggregate constitutes the world. And so we
must go from physical or hypothetical necessity, which determines later things in the
world from earlier ones, to something which has absolute or metaphysical necessity,
for which no reason can be given. The present world is necessary in a physical or
hypothetical sense, not absolutely or metaphysically. That is, once it is established to be
such as it is, it follows that things such as they are will come into being. Therefore,
since there must be an ultimate root in something, which has metaphysical necessity,
and since there is no reason for an existing thing except in another existing thing,
there must necessarily exist some one being of metaphysical necessity, or a being to
whose essence belongs existence. So there must exist something which is distinct from
the plurality of beings, or from the world, which, as we have admitted and shown,
has no metaphysical necessity.
To explain a little more distinctly, however, how temporal, contingent, or physical
truths arise out of truths that are eternal and essential, or if you like, metaphysical, we
should first acknowledge that from the very fact that something exists rather than
nothing, there is a certain urgency [exigentia] toward existence in possible things or in
possibility or essence itself - a pre-tension to exist, so to speak - and in a word, that
essence in itself tends to exist. From this it follows further that all possible things, or
things expressing an essence or possible reality, tend toward existence 2 with equal
right in proportion to the quantity of essence or reality, or to the degree of perfection
which they involve; for perfection is nothing but quantity of essence.
Hence it is very clearly understood that out of the infinite combinations and series
of possible things, one exists through which the greatest amount of essence or possi-
bility is brought into existence. There is always a principle of determination in nature
which must be sought by maxima and minima; namely, that a maximum effect should
be achieved with a minimum outlay, so to speak. And at this point time and place, or
in a word, the receptivity or capacity to the world, can be taken for the outlay, or the
terrain on which a building is to be erected as commodiously as possible, the variety of
forms corresponding t4 the spaciousness of the building and the number and elegance
of its chambers. The Case is like that of certain games in which all the spaces on a
board are to be filled according to definite rules, but unless we use a certain device,
we find ourself at the end blocked from the difficult spaces and compelled to leave more
spaces vacant than we needed or wished to. Yet there is a definite rule by which a maxi-
mum number of spaces can be filled in the easiest way. Therefore, assuming that ,t is
ordered that there shall be a triangle with no other further determining principle, the
result is that an equilateral triangle is produced. 3 And assuming that there is to be
motion from one point to another without anything more determining the route, that
path will be chosen which is easiest or shortest. Similarly, once having assumed that
being involves more perfection than nonbeing, or that there is a reason why something
should come to exist rather than nothing, or that a transition from possibility to
actuality must take place, it follows that even ifthere is no further determining principle,
there does exist the greatest amount possible in proportion to the given capacity of
time and space (or the possible order of existence), in much the same way as tiles are
laid so that as many as possible are contained in a given space.
For 'references see p. 491

We can now understand in a wonderful way how a kind of divine mathematics or

metaphysical mechanism is used in the origin of things and how the determination of
the maximum takes place. So the right angle is the determined one of all angles in
geometry, and so liquids placed in a different medium compose themselves in the most
spacious figure, a sphere. But best of all is the example in ordinary mechanics itself;
when many heavy bodies pull upon each other, the resulting motion is such that the
maximum possible total descent is secured. 4 For just as all possibilities tend with
equal right to existence in proportion to their reality, so all heavy objects tend to
descend with equal right in proportion to their weight. And just as, in the latter case,
that motion is produced which involves the greatest possible descent of these weights,
so in the former a world is produced in which a maximum production of possible
things takes place.
Thus we now have a physical necessity derived from a metaphysical necessity. For
even if the world is not necessary metaphysically, in the sense that its contrary would
imply a contradiction or logical absurdity, it is nonetheless necessary physically, or
determined in such a way that its contrary would imply imperfection or moral absur-
dity. And just as possibility is the principle of essence, so perfection or degree of essence
is the principle of existence (since the degree of perfection determines the largest
number of things that are compossible). This shows at once how there may be free-
dom in the Author of the world, even though he does all things determinately because
he acts on the principle of wisdom or perfection. Indifference arises from igno-
rance, and the wiser a man is, the more determined he is toward the most perfect.
But, you will say, however elegant this comparison of a kind of determining meta-
physical mechanism with the physical mechanism of heavy bodies may seem, it is
faulty in this respect - heavy bodies which act against each other truly exist, whereas
possibilities or essences, whether prior to or abstracted from existence, are imaginary
or fictitious, and therefore we cannot look for a reason for existence in them. I answer
that neither these essences nor the so-called eternal truths about them are fictitious but
exist in a certain region of ideas, if I may so call it, namely, in God himself, who is the
source of all essence and of the existence of the rest. The very existence of the actual
series of things shows that this is not merely a gratuitous assertion of mine. For since
no reason can be found for this series within itself, as I have shown above, but this
reason is to be sought in metaphysical necessity or in eternal truth, and since, further-
more, existing things can come into being only from existing things, as I have also
explained, it is necessary for eternal truths to have their existence in an absolutely or
metaphysically necessary subject, that is, in God, through whom those possibilities
which would otherwise be imaginary are (to use an outlandish but expressive word)
realized. s
And we do in fact observe that everything in the world takes place in accordance with
the laws of the eternal truths and not merely geometric but also metaphysical laws;
that is, not merely according to material necessities but also according to formal reasons.
And not only is this true in general, on the principle which we have just explained -
that there should exist a world rather than none and that this world should exist
rather than another. (This may be learned in any case from the tendency of possibles
toward existence.) But it is true also when we descend to special cases and see the
wonderful way in which metaphysical laws of cause, power, and action are present
throughout all nature, and how they predominate over the purely geometric laws of
matter themselves, as I found to my great admiration when I was explaining the laws of
motion. As I have fully explained elsewhere, I was at length compelled to give up the
law of the geometric composition of conatuses which I had formerly defended when,
as a youth, I was more materialistic. 6
We therefore have the ultimate reason for the reality of essences as well as existences
in one being, which must necessarily be greater, higher, and prior to the world itself,
since not only the existing things which compose the world but also all possibilities
have their reality through it. But because of the interconnection of all these things, this
ultimate reason can be found only in a single source. It is evident, however, that
existing things are continuously issuing from this source and are being produced and
have been produced by it, since no reason appears why one state of the world should
issue from it rather than another, that of yesterday rather than today's. It is clear, too,
how God acts not merely physically but freely as well, and how there is in him not
only the efficient but the final cause of the world. Thus we have in him the reason not
merely for the greatness and power in the world mechanism as already established, but
also for the goodness and wisdom exerted in establishing it.
In case anyone may think that this confuses moral perfection or goodness with
metaphysical perfection or greatness, and may deny the former while granting the
latter, it must be recognized that it follows from what has been said that the world is
not only the most perfect naturally or if you prefer, metaphysically - in other words,
that that series of things has been produced which actually presents the greatest
amount of reality - but also that it is the most perfect morally, because moral perfec-
tion is truly natural' in minds themselves. Hence the world not only is the most won-
derful mechanism but is also, insofar as it consists of minds, the best commonwealth,
through which there is conferred on minds as much felicity or joy as possible; it is in
this that their natural perfection consists.
You may object, however, that we experience the very opposite of this in the world,
for often the very worst things happen to the best; innocent beings, not only beasts but
men, are struck down and killed, even tortured. In fact, especially if we consider the
government of mankind, the world seems rather a kind of confused chaos than
something ordained by a supreme wisdom. So it seems at first sight, I admit, but when
we look more deeply, the opposite can be established. A priori it is obvious from the
principles which I have already given that the highest perfection possible is obtained for
all things and therefore also for minds.
And as the jurisconsults say, it is truly unjust to render a judgment without having
studied the whole law. We know but a very small part of an eternity stretching out
beyond all measure. How tiny is the memory of the few thousand years which history
imparts to us! Yet from such slight experience we venture to judge about the immeas-
urable and the eternal; as if men born and reared in prison or in the underground salt
mines of Sarmatia should think that there is no other light in the world but the
wretched torch which is scarcely sufficient to guide their steps. If we look at a very
beautiful picture but cover up all of it but a tiny spot, what more will appear in it, no
matter how closely we study it, indeed, all the more, the more closely we examine it,
than a confused mixture of colors without beauty and without art. Yet when the
covering is removed and the whole painting is viewed from a position that suits it, we
come to understand that what seemed to be a thoughtless smear on the canvas has
really been done with the highest artistry by the creator of the work. And what the

eyes experience in painting is experienced by the ears in music. Great composers very
often mix dissonances with harmonious chords to stimulate the hearer and to sting
him, as it were, so that he becomes concerned about the outcome and is all the more
pleased when everything is restored to order. Similarly we may enjoy trivial dangers or
the experience of evils from the very sense they give us of our own power or our
happiness or our fondness for display. Or again, in witnessing performances of rope-
dancing or sword-dancing [sauls peril/eux], we are delighted by the very fears they
arouse, and we playfully half-drop children, pretending to be about to throw them away
for much the same reason that the ape carried King Christian of Denmark, when he
was still a baby dressed in long clothes, to a rooftop and then, while everyone waited in
terror, returned him, as if in play, to his cradle. By the same principle it is insipid
always to eat sweets; sharp, sour, and even bitter things should be mixed with them
to excite the taste. He who has not tasted the bitter does not deserve the sweet; indeed,
he will not appreciate it. This is the very law of enjoyment, that pleasure does not run
an even course, for this produces aversion and makes us dul1, not joyful.
But what I have said about a part being disordered without destroying the harmony
in the whole must not be interpreted as if there is no reason for the parts or as if it
were enough for the world to be perfect as a whole, even though the human race
should be wretched and there should be no concern in the universe for justice and no
account taken of us, as is held by some people who have not made sound judgments
about the totality of things. For we must recognize that just as care is taken in the
best-ordered republic that individuals shall fare as well as possible, so the universe
would not be perfect enough unless as much care is shown for individuals as is consist-
ent with the universal harmony. No better measure for this matter can be set up than
the law of justice itself, which dictates that each one shall take part in the perfection of
the universe and his own happiness according to the measure of his own virtue and the
degree to which his will is moved toward 8 the common good. And in this very thing is
fulfil1ed what we call the charity and the love of God, in which alone the force and
power of the Christian religion also consist, according to the opinion of wise theo-
logians. Nor should it seem remarkable that so much respect should be shown to
minds in the universe, since they resemble most closely the image of the supreme
Author and are related to him not merely as machines to their maker - as are other
beings - but also as citizens to their prince. Moreover, they are to endure as long as the
universe itself and in some way to express the whole and concentrate it in themselves,
so that it can be said that minds are total-parts.
As for the afflictions, especially of good men, however, we must take it as certain that
these lead to their greater good and that this is true not only theological1y but also
naturally. So a seed sown in the earth suffers before it bears fruit. In general, one may
say that though afflictions are temporary evils, they are good in effect, for they are
short cuts to greater perfection. So in physics the liquids which ferment slowly also
are slower to settle, while those in which there is a stronger disturbance settle more
promptly, throwing off impurities with greater force. We may well call this stepping
back in order to spring forward with greater force [qu'on recule pour mieux sauter].
These views must therefore be affirmed not merely as gratifying and comforting but
also as most true. And in general, I hold that there is nothing truer than happiness
and nothing happier and sweeter than truth.
As the crown of the universal beauty and perfection of the works of God, we must
also recognize that the entire universe is involved in a perpetual and most free pro-
gress, so that it is always advancing toward greater culture. Thus a great part of our
earth has now received cultivation and will receive it more and more. And though it is
true that some sections occasionally revert into wilderness or are destroyed and sink
back again, this must be understood in the same sense in which I have just explained
the nature of afflictions, namely, that this very destruction and decline lead to a better
result, so that we somehow gain through our very loss.
To the objection which could be offered, moreover, that if this were so, the world
should long since have become a paradise, there is an answer near at hand. Although
many substances have already attained great perfection, yet because of the infinite
divisibility of the continuum, there always remain in the abyss of things parts which
are still asleep. These are to be aroused and developed into something greater and
better and in a word, to a better culture. And hence progress never comes to an end.
REFERENCES
• The fuller and more exact meaning of this title, here translated literally, is 'On the Process by
Which the World Comes into Being from Its Roots', that is, 'On the First Principles of
Creation'.
1 Both G. and E. have a priore; Professor Paul Schrecker is authority for reading a priori,
with the Hanover manuscript.
2 Reading existentiam (with E.'s errata) for essentiam (G.).
3 For Leibniz's more specific argument on this point see the preceding selection (No. 50),
particularly the closing paragraph.
4 The example apparently alluded to is the catenary, discovered by John and James Ber-
noulli, and solved by Leibniz, Huygens, and others in 1696. It was easily solved as a problem
in maxima (see Mach, The Science 0/ Mechanics, pp. 85-89).
5 The barbarism is the word realisentur. The verb occurs frequently in crucial passages in the
correspondence with Des Bosses (see p. 600, and p. 615, note 9).
6 The allusion is to the Theory 0/ Abstract Motion (1671) (No.8). Leibniz explains his change
of opinion in detail in No. 46, Part I.
7 Physico. The extension of nature to include human purposes and actions is characteristic of
much of Leibniz's writing (see p. 62, note 65).
8 Reading ergo (Brd.) for ergo (G.).
52
CLARIFICATION OF THE DIFFICULTIES WHICH

MR. BAYLE HAS FOUND IN THE NEW SYSTEM
OF THE UNION OF SOUL AND BODY
Histoire des ouvrages des savants, July, 1698
Of the criticisms which the New System (No. 47) evoked, none was more penetrating than
than that which Pierre Bayle attached to the article 'Rorarius'in the second volume of his
Dictionnaire historique et critique appearing in 1697. His criticism covered many points
but centered on the interpretation of the relation between mind and body. Leibniz sent the
following reply in the form of a letter to Basnage de Beauval, editor of the Histoire,
which had succeeded Bayle's own Nouvelles de la republique des lettres.
[G., IV, 517-24]
I take the liberty, Sir, of sending you this clarification of the difficulties which Mr.
Bayle has found in the hypothesis I proposed to explain the union of soul and body.
Nothing is kinder than the consideration which he shows for me, and I hold myself
honored by the objections which he has put in his excelIent Dictionary, in the article
on 'Rorarius'. So great and profound a mind as his, moreover, cannot but instruct,
and I shall strive to profit by the light which he has shed on these matters in this
article and at many other points in his work. He does not reject what I have said about
the conservation of the soul or even that of the animal, but he still does not seem
satisfied with the way in which I have tried to explain the union and intercourse of the
soul and the body in the Journal des savants for June 27 and July 4, 1695, and in the
Histoire des ouvrages des savants for February, 1696. 1
These are the words which seem to indicate where he finds the difficulty. He says:
I am unable to understand the chain of internal and spontaneous actions which would cause
the soul of a dog to feel pain immediately after having felt joy, even if it were alone in the
universe.
I reply that when I said that even if only it and God existed in the world, the soul
would feel all that it feels now, I was merely using a fiction, assuming something
which cannot happen naturaIly, in order to show that the feelings of the soul are
entirely a result of what is already in it. I do not know whether the proof of the in-
comprehensibility which Mr. Bayle finds in this 'chain' is to be sought only in what he
says later or whether he already means to suggest it in the example of the spontaneous
transition from joy to pain, perhaps by trying to show that such a transition is con-
trary to the axiom that a thing always remains in the state in which it is at a certain
time, unless something occurs to compel it to change, and that therefore, if an animal
once is in a state of joy, it will always be in such a state if it is alone or if there is
nothing external to make it pass over into pain. In any case, I agree with the axiom;
I even maintain that it favors my position, since it is in fact one of its foundations. For
do we not conclude from this axiom, not only that a body at rest always remains at
rest, but also that a body in motion will always retain its motion or its process of
change, that is to say, the same speed and direction, if nothing occurs to impede it?
Thus a thing not only remains in the state in which it is, insofar as it depends on itself,
but also continues to change when it is in a state of change, always following one and
the same law. But in my opinion it is in nature of created substance to change conti-
nually following a certain order which leads it spontaneously (if I may be allowed to
use this word) through all the states which it encounters, in such a way that he who
sees all things sees all its past and future states in its present. And this law of order,
which constitutes the individuality of each particular substance, is in exact agreement
with what occurs to every other substance and throughout the whole universe. Perhaps
I shall not claim too much if I say that I can demonstrate all this, but for the present
the question is merely to maintain it as a possible hypothesis which is suitable for
explaining phenomena. Now it is in this way that the law of change in the substance of
the animal carries it from joy to pain in that moment in which there takes place a
break in the continuous processes in its body, because it is the law of the indivisible
substance of the animal to represent what occurs in its body in the way in which we
experience it, and even to represent in some way, through its relation to this body,
everything which occurs in the world. For the substantial unities are nothing but
different concentrations of the universe represented according to the different points
of view by which they are distinguished. 2
Mr. Bayle continues:
I understand why a dog passes immediately from pleasure to pain if we strike him with a stick
just when he is very hungry and is eating some bread.
I am not sure that we do fully understand this. No one knows better than Mr. Bayle
himself that it is just here that the great difficulty lies in explaining why whatever occurs
in the body makes a change in the soul, and that it is this which has forced the defen-
ders of occasional causes to have recourse to the care which God must take to repre-
sent continually in the soul the changes which occur in its body. I believe instead that
it is the soul's own God-given nature to represent everything that takes place in its
organs by virtue of its own laws. Bayle continues:
But that his soul is constructed in such a way that he should feel pain at the moment he is
struck even if no one were to strike him, and even if he were to continue to eat bread without
difficulty or interruption - this I cannot understand.
Nor do I recall having said this. And one can speak in this way only by a metaphysical
fiction, as when one assumes that God destroys a body in order to create a vacuum;
the one is as contrary to the order of things as the other. For since the nature of the
soul has been made in such a way from the beginning as to represent successively the
changes of matter, the situation which we assume could not arise in the natural order.
God could give to each substance its own phenomena independent of those of others,
but in this way he would have made as many worlds without connection, so to speak,
as there are substances, almost as we say that when we dream, we are in a world apart
and that we enter into the common world when we wake up. Not that dreams do not

also correspond with the organs and the rest of the body, but in a less distinct way. Let
us continue with Mr. Bayle. He says:
I find too that the spontaneity of this soul is most incompatible with the feelings of pain and
in general, with all perceptions which are displeasing to it.
This incompatibility would certainly exist if spontaneous and voluntary meant the
same thing. Everything voluntary is spontaneous, but there are spontaneous actions
which are not chosen and therefore are not voluntary. It does not rest with the soul
always to give itself feelings which please it, since the feelings which it will have are
dependent upon those which it has had. Mr. Bayle says further:
Furthermore, it seems to me that this able man dislikes the Cartesian system because of a false
assumption, for one cannot say that the system of occasional causes makes the action of God
intervene by a miracle (deus ex machina) in the reciprocal dependence of body and soul. For
since God's intervention follows only general laws, he does not therein act in an extraordinary
way.
This is not the only reason why I dislike the Cartesian system. And when my own is
given a little consideration, it becomes clear what I find in it that makes me adopt it.
Even if the hypothesis of occasional causes should have no need for miracles, it seems
to me that my own would still have other advantages. I have pointed out that we
can imagine three systems to explain the intercourse which we find between body and
soul; namely, (1) the system of the mutual influence of one upon the other, which
when taken in the popular sense is that of the Scholastics, and which I consider im-
possible, as do the Cartesians; (2) that of a perpetual supervisor who represents in the
one everything which happens in the other, a little as if a man were charged with
constantly synchronizing two bad clocks which are in themselves incapable of agreeing
- this is the system of occasional causes; and (3) that of the natural agreement of two
substances such as would exist between two very exact clocks. I find this view fully as
possible as that of a supervisor and more worthy of the author of these substances,
clocks or automata. But let us see whether the system of occasional causes does not in
fact imply a perpetual miracle. Here it is said that it does not, because God would act
only through general laws according to this system. I agree, but in my opinion that
does not suffice to remove the miracles. Even if God should do thiS continuously, they
would not cease being miracles, if we take this term, not in the popular sense of a rare
and wonderful thing, but in the philosophical sense of that which exceeds the powers of
created beings. It is not enough to say that God has made a general law, for besides the
decree there is also necessary a natural means of carrying it out, that is, all that
happens must also be explained through the nature which God gives to things. The
laws of nature are not so arbitrary and so indifferent as many people imagine. For
example, if God were to decree that all bodies should have a tendency to move in
circles and that the radii of the circles should be proportional to the magnitude of the
bodies, one would either have to say that there is a method of carrying this out by
means of simpler laws, or one would surely have to admit that God must carry it out
miraculously, or at least through angels charged expressly with this responsibility,
somewhat in the manner of those that were once assigned to the celestial spheres. It
would be the same if someone said that God has given natural and primitive gravities
to bodies by which each tends to the center ofits globe without being pushed by anoth-
er body, for in my opinion such a system would need a perpetual miracle, or at least
the help of the angels. 3
Does the internal and active power communicated to the forms of bodies know the series of
actions which it must produce? By no means, for we know by experience that we are ignorant
of what kinds of perceptions we shall have in an hour.
I reply that this power, or better, this soul or form itself, does not know them distinctly
but that it does feel them confusedly. In each substance there are traces of everything
which has happened to it and of everything which will happen to it. But this infinite
multitude of perceptions prevents us from distinguishing them, just as I cannot
distinguish one voice from another when I hear the loud confused noise of a crowd.
Then it would be necessary for the forms to be directed by some external principle in producing
their acts. But would this not be the deus ex machina exactly as in the system of occasional
causes?
This deduction is avoided by the preceding answer. On the contrary, the present state
of each substance is a natural result of its preceding state, but there is only one infinite
intelligence which, because it envelops the universe, can see this result in souls as well
as in each portion of matter.
Mr. Bayle ends with these words:
Finally, since he assumes with good reason that all souls are simple and indivisible, we cannot
understand how they can be compared to a clock. That is, they are able to vary their operations
by their original constitution, making use of the spontaneous activity which they receive from
their creator. We conceive clearly that a simple being will always act uniformly if no external
cause interferes with it. If it were composed of many pieces, like a machine, it would act
diversely because the particular activity of each piece could at any moment change the course
of all the others. But in a single substance, where can you find the cause of a change in operation?
I find this objection worthy of Mr. Bayle, and one of those which are most in need of
clarification. But I also believe that if I had not taken care of it from the start, my
system would not deserve study. I have compared the soul with a clock only with
regard to the regulated precision of its changes, which is only imperfect even in the
best clocks, but which is perfect in the works of God. And one can say that the soul is a
most exact immaterial autopiaton. When it is said that a simple being will always act
uniformly, a distinction needs to be made. If to act uniformly is to follow perpetually
the same law of order or of succession, as in a certain scale or series of numbers,
I agree that in this sense every simple being and even every composite being acts uni-
formly. But if uniformly means similarly\ I do not agree. To explain the difference this
meaning makes by means of an example, a movement in a parabolic path is uniform
in the former sense but not in the latter, for the parts of the parabolic curve are not
similar to each other as are the parts of a straight line. It is true, I may say in passing,
that a simple body left to itself will describe only straight lines, speaking only of the
center which represents the movement of the whole body. But when a simple and
rigid body has once received a rotation or circular motion about its center, and retains
it in uniform direction and uniform speed, the result is that such a body, left to itself,
can describe circular lines at points other than its center when the center is at rest, and
even certain quadratrices when the center is in motion, curves whose ordinates are
compounded of the straight line traversed by the center and of the sine [of the rotated

angles], the cosine being the abscissa, and the arc being related to the circumference as
the straight line traversed is to a given line. S
We must also take into consideration that the soul, however simple it may be,
always has a feeling [sentiment] composed of many perceptions at once, a fact which
serves our purpose as well as if it were composed of parts like a machine. For each
preceding perception influences those which follow in conformity with a law of order
which is found in perceptions as well as in movements. For many centuries, too, most
philosophers, who ascribe thoughts to souls and to angels, whom they believe to be
without any bodies (not to speak of the intellects of Aristotle), have admitted spon-
taneous change in simple beings. I add that the perceptions which are found together
in one soul at the same time include a veritably infinite multitude of little indistin-
guishable feelings, which the subsequent series must develop, so that we need not be
astonished at the infinite variety of what must result from it in time. All this is only a
consequence of the representative nature ofthe soul, which must express what happens,
and even what will happen in its body and in some way in all other bodies, through the
connection or correspondence between all the parts of the world. Perhaps it would have
sufficed to say that God, having made material automatons, could also make imma-
terial ones which represent the former ones, but I believed that it would be well to
elaborate my views a little more fully.
As for the rest, I have read with pleasure what Mr. Bayle says in the article on Zeno. 6
Perhaps he could perceive that the conclusions which can be drawn from it agree
better with my system than with any other, for what is real in extension and movement
consists of nothing but the foundation of order and the regular sequence of pheno-
mena and perceptions. Also, the Academics and skeptics, as well as those who tried
to answer them, seem chiefly to have been involved in difficulties merely because they
sought a greater reality in things outside of us than that of well-regulated phenomena.
We conceive of extension in conceiving an order in coexistences, but we should not
conceive of it, any more than of space, in the nature of a substance. The same is true
of time, which presents to the mind only an order in changes. As for motion, that which
is real in it is force or power, namely, something in the present state which carries
with it a change for the future. The rest is only phenomena and relations. Con-
sideration of this system also shows that when we penetrate to the foundations
of things, we observe more reason than most of the philosophical sects believed in.
The lack of substantial reality in the sensible things of the skeptics; the reduction of
everything to harmonies or numbers, ideas, and perceptions by the Pythagoreans and
Platonists; the one and the whole of Parmenides and Plotinus, yet without any Spino-
zism; the Stoic connectedness, which is yet compatible with the spontaneity held to by
others; the vitalism of the Cabalists and hermetic philosophers who put a kind of
feeling into everything; the forms and entelechies of Artistotle and the Scholastics; and
even the mechanical explanation of all particular phenomena by Democritus and the
moderns; etc. - all of these are found united as if in a single perspective center from
which the object, which is obscured when considered from any other approach, reveals
its regularity and the correspondence of its parts. Our greatest failure has been the
sectarian spirit which imposes limits upon itself by spurning others. The formalist
philosophers find fault with the materialists or corpuscular philosophers, and vice
versa. We wrongly impose limits upon the divisibility and subtlety, as well as on the
riches and beauty of nature, when we assume atoms and a void, when we imagine cer-
tain first elements (as do even the Cartesians) 7 in place of veritable unities, and when
we do not recognize the infinite in everything, and the exact expression of the greatest
in the smallest, combined with the tendency of each one to develop itself in a perfect
order. This is the most admirable and the most beautiful effect of the sovereign prin-
ciple whose wisdom and bounty leave nothing better to be desired by those who are
able to understand its economy.
REFERENCES
1 These references are to the New System itself and to the first two of the short explanations,
the second of which is given in No. 46, Part II (cf. p. 461, note 19).
2 Meanwhile Leibniz has not answered Bayle's criticism, which Arnauld (see No. 36) and
Foucher had already suggested. This concerns the unnecessary character of the physical world,
if every modification of the soul arises solely out of its own nature. Leibniz does return to this
problem briefly later in this essay, as well as in Nos. 53 and 62 and elsewhere. His basic argu-
ment for the existence of an external world of monads and a universal harmony is based upon
the principle of perfection and plenitude (see his argument for the existence of other minds
in No. 39).
3 The ambiguity of Leibniz's definition of miracle (as that which exceeds the power of creatures)
is shown by his inclusion of Newton's theory of 'attraction' among miraculous explanations.
The test of what lies within the power of creatures (or of nature) is never indicated; here his
inclination to restrict motion, as did the Cartesians, to motion imparted by impact led him to
views hardly consistent with his own metaphysics.
Leibniz did not take into consideration the celebrated general scholium to Book III of
Newton's Principia, in which the assumption of an attractive power on bodies is rejected,
for the obvious reason that it appeared only in the second edition in 1713.
4 I.e., with a constancy or invariance in its states, analogous to a curve each part of which is
similar to every other part, that is, a straight line.
S The quadratrix, first discovered by Hippias of Elis, is a compound of a closed rotary and an
open progressive motion (see Cantor, op. cit., I, 195-97, 246-48). To construct the figure
described by Leibniz, let the center of the circle move on the Y-axis.
6 In this article Bayle had discussed the inconsistency of infinite divisibility with perceptual
limits to analysis and had suggested that solid physical figures, as well as plane geometrical
ones, have only 'ideal' existence.
7 Cf. p. 506, (No. 53), and p. 508, note 14.
53
ON NATURE ITSELF, OR ON THE INHERENT FORCE AND

ACTIONS OF CREATED THINGS·
Acta eruditorum, September, 1698
Robert Boyle's proposal, in his Free Inquiry into the Vulgarly Received Notion of
Nature (1682), that the term 'nature' should be avoided and 'mechanism' substituted for
it occasioned a controversy between John Christopher Sturm of Altdorf and Gunther
Christopher Schelhammer of Kiel in 1692-98, in which Sturm defended Boyle's opinion,
while Schelhammer defended the concept of nature. One of the points argued concerned
the source and nature of motion, Sturm defending the Cartesian position that God is its
only source. Though the correspondence which began between Leibniz and Sturm in
1695 avoided the central question of the status of nature, it turned on the independent
reality of the natural order, including man, Sturm maintaining that it is pagan and un-
Christian to attribute properties to 'the nature of things' and that nature has no energy or
force proper to itself. Leibniz's published reply is directed not only at Sturm but at the
occasionalists and others who in effect deny the reality of the physical world. It contains a
careful exposition of his reasons for a pluralistic. energistic system, and one pre-eminent
for its revelation of the motives and the nature ofhis argument.
[G., IV, 504-16]
1. I have recently had sent to me the apology published in Altdorf by that most
noted and, in mathematical and physical matters, deservedly famous man, John
Christopher Sturm, in defense of his dissertation De idolo naturae, which had been
attacked by an outstanding and most gifted physician of Kiel, Gunther Christopher
Schelhammer, in a book on nature. 1 I too had long ago pondered the same problem,
and I had also carried on a kind of disputation by letter with the famous author of the
dissertation, which he himself has recently mentioned in a way that honors me, since
he makes public mention of certain papers which passed between us in the first volume
of his Elective Physics (Book I, Sec, 1, chap. iii; Epilogue, Sec. 5). I was therefore all
the more willing to set my mind and attention to this argument which is so important
in itself, judging it necessary to explain my own opinion and the problem itself a little
more clearly in terms of the principles which I have now stated so many times. His
apologetic dissertation seems to offer a convenient occasion for beginning this, for we
may judge that the author has here set forth, in few words and from a single perspective,
the most important issues involved in the matter. I am not making the quarrel between
these famous men my own, however.
2. Two questions are, I believe, of most importance. The first: In what does the nature
consist which we customarily ascribe to things, whose attributes, as they are usually
understood, Mr. Sturm considers to reek somewhat of paganism? The second: Whether
there is any energy in created things. This he seems to deny. As for the first question,
on nature itself, if we are to discover both what it is and what it is not, I agree that there
is no world soul; and I admit also that the wonderful events which occur daily and
because of which we commonly say, rightly, that the work of nature is a work of in-
telligence are not to be ascribed to certain created intelligences endowed with wisdom
and power proportional to such a task. But universal nature is, so to speak, the
artifice of God, and such a work, indeed, that any natural machine whatever consists
further of infinite organs (this is the true, but little noted, distinction between nature
and art) and so entails an infinite wisdom and power on the part of its author and
governor. So I consider the omniscient heat of Hippocrates, the soul-giving cholcodea
of Avicenna, the most wise plastic power of Scaliger and others, and Henry More's
hylarchic principle to be in part impossible and in part superfluous. 2 I consider it
sufficient that the mechanism of the world is built with such wisdom that these wonder-
ful things depend upon the progression of the machine itself, organic things parti-
cularly, as I believe, evolving by a certain predetermined order. And I agree when this
illustrious man rejects the figment of a certain wise created nature which forms and
governs the mechanisms of physical bodies. But I do not agree, and I do not think it
conformable to reason, that we should deny that any active creative force resides in
things.
3. I have said what nature is not; let us now examine a little more closely what this
nature is which Aristotle has well called the principle of motion and of rest, though that
philosopher seems to me to take the term more broadly than its accepted meaning,
and to understand by it not only local motion and rest in a place, but change and
Ul'aU1C; or permanence in general. 3 I may also point out in passing that the definition
which he gives of motion, though more obscure than it should be, is not as inept as it
seems to those who assume that he meant to define only local motioll. But to return to
the point, Robert Boyle, a man of distinction and thoroughly at home in the obser-
vation of nature, wrote a little work On Nature Itself, the argument of which, if I
remember rightly, amounted to this - that we must hold nature to be the mechanism of
bodies itself. Superficially this can be approved, but to examine the matter with greater
care, we must distinguish principles from derivative matters within this same mech-
anism; thus it is not enough in explaining a clock to say that it is moved by a mecha-
nical principle, without further distinguishing whether it is driven by a weight or by a
spring. I have already expressed, more than once, a view which I believe will be of use
in preventing mechanical explanations of natural things from being carried to abuse
in injuring piety, as if matter can stand by itself and mechanism needs no intelligence or
spiritual substance - the view, namely, that the origin of this mechanism itself has
come, not from a material principle and mathematical reasons alone, but from a
higher and so to speak, a metaphysical source.
4. One important indication of this, among others, is provided by the foundation of
the laws of nature, which is not to be found in the principle that the same quantity of
motion is conserved, as had commonly been held, but rather in the principle that the
same quantity of active power is necessarily conserved, and indeed - a thing which I
discovered happens for a most beautiful reason - the same quantity of motive action
also, the value of which is far different from what the Cartesians think of as the quan-
tity of motion. After two mathematicians who easily rank among the foremost in
ability had discussed this matter with me, partly in letters and partly in publications,
one of them came over to my camp completely, and the other, after long and accurate

thought, came to the point of abandoning all his objections and frankly confessed that
he had not yet thought of any answer to my demonstration. 4 I have therefore been all
the more astonished that in explaining the laws of motion in the published part of his
Elective Physics, this famous man has accepted the popular opinion about these
matters as if no doubt of it were possible, though he himself acknowledges that it
rests upon no demonstration but only upon a kind of probability; this he has repeated
in his latest discussion, chapter iii, Section 2. But perhaps he wrote this before my own
views had appeared, and then either had no time to revise what he had written or did
not think of it, especially since he believed that the Jaws of motion are arbitrary - a
view which does not seem to me to be entirely consistent. For I think that God has
been led to set in motion the laws which are observed in nature through determined
principles of wisdom and by reasons of order; and that this makes clear what I once
pointed out in discussing the laws of optics (a view to which the famous Molyneux
later gave his approval in his Dioptrics), that final causes are useful not only for virtue
and piety, in ethics and natural theology, but also for discovering and detecting hidden
truths in physics itself.5 So I could have wished that when the famous Sturm, in dealing
with final causes in his Elective Physics, referred to my opinion among the hypotheses,
he might also have appraised it fully in his criticism, for he would then undoubtedly
have taken occasion to say many excellent things in behalf of the excellence and fruit-
fulness of the argument - things which would be useful for piety as well.
5. But now we must examine what he says in this apologetic dissertation of his
about the concept of nature and what seems still to be lacking in what he says. He
admits (chap. iv, Sees. 2, 3, and elsewhere) that motions now taking place result by
virtue of an eternal law once established by God, which law he then calls a volition and
command, and that no new command or new volition of God is then necessary, much
less a new conatus or some laborious effort (Sec. 3). And he rejects as wronbly ascribed
to him by his opponent the opinion that God moves things as a woodchopper moves
his ax or a miller controls his mill by shutting off the water or turning it into the wheel.
But this explanation does not seem to me to do justice to the truth. For I ask whether
this volition or command, or if you prefer, this divine law once established, has be-
stowed upon things only an extrinsic denomination or whether it has truly conferred
upon them some created impression which endures within them, or as Mr. Schelham-
mer, who is as distinguished in judgment as in experience, very well puts it, an internal
law from which their actions and passions follow, even if this law is mostly not under-
stood by the creatures in which it inheres. The former view seems to be that of the
anthors of the system of occasional causes, especially of the ingenious Mr. Ma:le-
branche; the latter is the accepted view, and I believe the truest.
6. For since this command in the past no longer exists at present, it can accomplish
nothing unless it has left some subsistent effect behind which has lasted and operated
until now, and whoever thinks otherwise renounces any distinct explanation of things,
if I am any judge, for if that which is remote in time and space can operate here and
now without any intermediary, anything can be said to follow from anything else with
equal right. It is not enough, therefore, to say that in creating things in the beginning,
God willed that they should observe a certain law in their progression, if his will is
imagined to have been so ineffective that things were not affected by it and no durable
result was produced in them. In any case it also conflicts with the concept of the divine
power and will, which are pure and absolute, for God to will and yet to produce or
change nothing by his willing, for him always to act but never to achieve and not to
leave behind any work or any accomplishment [anorBAeupa]. Surely if nothing has
been impressed upon creatures by that divine word producat terra, multipticemini ani-
mafia 6, if things are affected after the command just as ifno command had intervened,
it follows - since some connection, either immediate or mediated by something, is
necessary between cause and effect - either that nothing conforming to the command is
now happening or that the command was valid only in the present and must always be
renewed in the future. But the learned author rightly repudiates this view. If on the
other hand, the law set up by God does in fact leave some vestige of him expressed. in
things, if things have been so formed by the command that they are made capable of
fulfilling the will of him who commanded them, then it must be granted that there is a
certain efficacy residing in things, a form or force such as we usually designate by the
name of nature, from which the series of phenomena follows according to the pre-
scription of the first command.
7. This inherent force can indeed be understood distinctly, though it cannot be
explained by sense perception. It is no more to be thus explained than is the nature of
the soul, for this force belongs among those things which are grasped, not by the imagi-
nation but by the understanding. Therefore I interpret this learned man's request (in
chap. iv, Sec. 6, of his 'Apologetic Dissertation') that we explain to the imagination
the way in which such an inherent law can operate in bodies ignorant of law, as mean-
ing that he wants it explained to the understanding, for otherwise it might be thought
that he was asking for sounds to be painted or colors heard. Furthermore, if difficulty
in explaining something is a sufficient reason for rejecting it, this must also be applied,
to be consistent, to the view which he complains is ascribed to him unjustly (chap. i,
Sec. 2), namely, that he prefers to hold that all things are moved by divine force alone
rather than to admit anything by the name of nature of whose nature he is ignorant.
Certainly Hobbes and others who try to make everything corporeal could also depend
on this argument with as much right, since they have convinced themselves that only
body can be explained distinctly and in sensible imagery. But these men are rightly
refuted by the very fact that there is a power of action in things which we do not derive
from sensible images. And simply to refer this back to a command of God, given at
one time in the past and in no way affecting things or leaving an effect behind it, is so
far from explaining the matter that it is rather to put aside the role of the philosopher and
to cut the Gordian knot with a sword. For the rest, a more distinct and accurate expla-
nation of active force than has heretofore been given may be drawn from my Dynamics,
which contains an appraisal of the laws of nature and of motion that is true and in
harmony with things.
8. But if some advocate of the new philosophy which maintains the inertness and
deadness of things should go so far as to deprive God's commands of all lasting effect
and efficiency in the future, and to regard it as nothing to demand of him always new
arrangements (a view which Mr. Sturm wisely rejects as foreign to his own), it is his
own affair to decide how worthy he considers this of God. But we cannot excuse him
from giving us a reason why things themselves can have an enduring permanence
while the attributes of things, which we designate as their 'nature', cannot have this
permanence. For it is nevertheless consistent that just as the word fiat leaves behind it
something permanent, namely, the persisting thing itself, so the word benedictio leaves
behind it something in things no less wonderful - a fruitfulness or an impulse to pro-

duce their actions and to operate, from which activity follows if nothing interferes. 7
To this can be added the point I have made elsewhere, though perhaps not everyone
has understood it adequately as yet, namely, that the substance of things itself consists
in the force of acting and being acted upon; hence it follows that no enduring thing can
be produced ifno force that long endures can be impressed upon it by the divine power.
Then it would follow that no created substance, no identical soul, would be permanent,
and hence that nothing would be conserved by God, but everything would reduce to
certain evanescent and flowing modifications or phantasms, so to speak, of the one
permanent divine substance. And, what reduces to the same thing, God would be the
nature and substance of all things - a doctrine of most evil repute, which a writer who
was subtle indeed but irreligious, in recent years imposed upon the world, or at least
revived. 8 Surely if corporeal things contained nothing but matter, they could most
truly be said to consist of a flux and to have nothing substantial, as the Platonists long
ago recognized.
9. The second question is whether created beings may be said properly and truly to
act. If we once understand that their internal nature is no different from the force of
acting and suffering, this question reduces to the former one, for there can be no
action without a force of acting, and conversely, a power which can never be exer-
cised is meaningless. Yet since action and power are different things, the former a
matter of succession, the latter permanent, let us examine action also. Here I confess I
find no little difficulty in explaining the opinion of the famous Mr. Sturm. For he
denies that created things by themselves properly act, yet he nonetheless admits that
they do act, since he is unwilling to have ascribed to him the comparison of created
things with an ax moved by a woodcutter. I can make out nothing certain from this;
he does not seem to me to have explained very clearly how much he departs from ac-
cepted opinions, nor what sort of distinct concept of action he has in mind - for that the
concept of action is not an easy or obvious one is clear from the conflicts of the meta-
physicians. So far as I have made the concept of action clear to myself, I believe that
there follows from it and is established by it that most widely accepted principle of
philosophy - that actions belong to substances [actiones esse suppositorum). And hence
I hold it also to be true that this is a reciprocal proposition, so that not only is every-
thing that acts an individual substance but also every individual substance acts with-
out interruption, not excepting body itself, in which no absolute rest is ever to be
found. 9
10. But let us now consider a little more carefully the opinion of those who deny a
true and proper activity to created things, as Robert Fludd, the author of the Mosaic
Philosophy long ago did, and as some of the Cartesians now do who believe that things
do not act but that God acts in the presence of things and according to the fitness of
things, so that things are occasions, not causes, and merely receive but never effect or
produce. While this doctrine had been proposed by Cordemoi, La Forge, and other
Cartesians, it was particularly Malebranche, who, with his characteristic acumen,
embellished it in luminous phrases. lO But so far as I know, no one has given sound
reasons for it. Certainly if this doctrine is extended so far as to deny even the immanent
actions of substances - an interpretation which Mr. Sturm shows his conspicuous
caution in rejecting, in his Elective Physics, Book I, chapter iv, Epilogue, Section 11 -
it seems foreign to reason as no other view can be. For who will doubt that the mind
thinks and wills, that many thoughts and volitions are produced in us and by us, and
that there is something spontaneous about us? To doubt this would be to deny human
freedom and to thrust the cause of evil back into God but also to contradict the
testimony of our internal experience and consciousness, by which we feel that what
these opponents have transferred to God without even the appearance of a reason
belongs to ourselves. But if we ascribe to our mind an inherent force of producing
immanent actions or what is the same thing, of acting immanently, then nothing
prevents the same force from residing in other souls or forms or if you prefer, in the
natures of other substances; indeed, it is entirely consistent for it to be so - unless it is
believed that in the nature of things which is open to us, our minds alone are active
or that all power of action is immanently, and hence vitally, so to speak, coupled with
the understanding. But such assertions are certainly not confirmed by any reason, nor
can they be defended without coercing the truth. What we can establish about the
external [transeunt] actions of creatures may better be explained elsewhere; in fact, I
have already partly explained it - the intercourse of substances or of monads 11 ,
namely, arises not from an influence but from a consensus originating in their prefor-
mation by God, so that each one is adjusted to the outside while it follows the internal
force and laws of its own nature. It is also in this that the union ofsoul and body consists.
11. It is indeed true, however, that bodies in themselves are inert if this is understood
in the right sense, namely, insofar as what is once assumed for some reason to be at
rest cannot impel itself to motion, or suffer being impelled by some other body without
resistance, any more than it can of its own accord change the degree of velocity or the
direction which it once has had or suffer such change from the outside easily and
without resistance. So it must be admitted that extension, or the geometric nature
of a body, taken alone contains nothing from which action and motion can arise.
Indeed, matter rather resists being moved by its own natural inertia, as Kepler
has fittingly named it, and is thus not indifferent to rest and motion as it is pop-
ularly interpreted to be, but strives toward motion with an active force propor-
tional to its magnitude. Hence it is in this passive force of resistance, which involves
impenetrability but something more, that I locate the concept of primary matter or
mass [molis], which is everywhere proportional in a body to its magnitude. And hence
I show that far different laws of motion follow from it than would be the case if the
body, or matter itself, possessed only impenetrability with extension. And just as there
is a natural inertia opposed to motion in matter, so there is in the body itself, and
indeed, in every substance, a natural constancy opposed to change. This view does not
justify those who deny action in things but rather opposes them, for as certain as it is
that matter in itself does not begin motion, so certain is it also (as the well-known
experiments on motion arising from the impact of a moving body also show) that
taken by itself, a body retains an impetus and remains constant in its speed or that it
has a tendency to persevere in the series of changes which it has once begun. Now since
these activities and entelechies cannot be modes of primary matter or of mass, which
is something essentially passive, as the judicious Sturm has himself clearly recognized
(as I shall show in the next paragraph), it can be concluded that there must be found in
corporeal substance a primary entelechy or first recipient [npwTov OeKTIICOV] of activity,
that is, a primitive motive force which, superadded to extension, or what is merely
geometrical, and mass, or what is merely material, always acts indeed and yet is
modified in various ways by the concourse of bodies, through a conatus or impetus.
It is this substantial principle itself which is called the soul in living beings and

substantial form in other beings, and inasmuch as it truly constitutes one substance
with matter, or a unit in itself, it makes up what I call a monad. For if these true and
real unities were dispensed with, only beings through aggregation would remain;
indeed, it would follow that there would be left no true beings within bodies. For even
though there are atoms of substance, namely, my monads, which lack parts, there are
no atoms of mass or of minimum extension, or any last elements, since a continuum
is not composed of points. Furthermore, there is no being that is greatest in mass or
infinite in extension, even if there are always things greater than any given things; there
is only a being greatest in intension of perfection or infinite in power.
12. I observe, however, that in his 'Apologetic Dissertation' (chap. iv, Secs. 7ff.)
the famous Sturm has undertaken to combat a moving force resident in bodies by
means of certain arguments. "I will show abundantly", he says, "that no corporeal
substance is capable of any active moving power" - though I do not grasp what a
power can be which is not actively motive. He says, however, that he will use twin
arguments - one from the nature of matter and body, the other from the nature of
motion. The former reduces to this: matter is by its nature an essentially passive
substance, and so it is no more possible to give it an active force than for God to will
a stone, while it remains a stone, to be alive and reasonable, that is, not to be a stone.
In the next place, the things we assume in body are only modifications of matter, but a
modification (this I admit is excellently expressed) of something essentially passive
cannot make it something active. But to this it is easy to make the following reply
from the point of view of the accepted as well as of the true philosophy. Matter may
be understood as either secondary or primary. Secondary matter is indeed complete
substance but not merely passive. 12 Primary matter is merely passive but not a com-
plete substance; there must be added to it a soul or a form analogous to the soul -
a first entelechy, that is, or a kind of nisus or primitive force of action which
is itself the inherent law impressed upon it by divine command. I do not expect
this famous and brilliant man to shrink back from this opinion, since he recently
defended the view that body is composed of matter and spirit; except that spirit
is not here to be taken for an intelligent being, as is usually done, but for a soul or a
form analogous to the soul. Neither is it to be taken for a simple modification but for
something which perseveres and is constitutive and substantial. This I customarily call
a monad, which contains perception and appetite, as it were. The accepted doctrine,
which is consistent with Scholastic teaching favorably expounded, must therefore first
be refuted if the argument of the famous man is to have force. Similarly, it is clear
from this that we cannot concede his assumption that whatever is in a corporeal sub-
stance must be a modification of matter. For it is well known that according to the
accepted philosophy there are souls in the bodies of living beings which are certainly
no modifications of these bodies. For though the learned man may assert the contrary,
and seem to deny to dumb animals all sensibility in any true sense, and a proper soul,
he cannot assume this opinion as the basis of his demonstration until it has itself been
demonstrated. I believe on the contrary that it is consistent neither with the order nor
with the beauty or the reason of things that there should be something vital or imma-
nently active only in a small part of matter, when it would imply greater perfection if it
were in all. And even if dominant sou!:', and hence intelligent souls such as there are
in men, cannot be everywhere, this is no objection to the view that there should
everywhere be souls, or at least things analogous to souls.
13. The second argument, which the illustriuous man takes from the nature of
motion, seems to me to be no more necessarily conclusive than the first. Motion, he
says, is merely the successive existence of the thing moved in different places. Let us
concede this for the present, though it is not entirely satisfactory and expresses the
result of motion rather than what we call its formal reason. However, it does not
hereby exclude a moving force. For in the present moment of its motion, a body is not
merely in a place of the same size as itself, but it also has a tendency or urge toward
changing its place, so that its future state follows from its present one, per se, by the
force of nature. Otherwise the body A which is in motion would be no different at the
present moment (and therefore at any moment whatever) from the body B which is at
rest, and it would follow from the opinion of the distinguished man, if it is opposed to
mine at this point, that there would be no way whatever of distinguishing between
bodies, since there is no basis for such a distinction in a plenum of mass uniform in
itself other than that which concerns motion. This view would thus also have the
further effect that there could be absolutely no variation in bodies and that everything
would always remain the same. For if there is no difference between any portion of
matter and another portion equal and congruent to it (which the illustrious man must
admit, since he has destroyed active forces or impetuses and all other qualities and
modifications except for existence in this place and successively some future existence or
other, all qualities and modifications having been removed), and furthermore, if the
state of this matter at one moment does not differ from its state at another moment
except through the transposition of equal and congruent portions of matter which
agree in everything, it obviously follows that because of the perpetual substitution of
indistinguishables, the state of the corporeal world can in no way be distinguished at
different moments. For the denomination by which one part of matter is to be dis-
tinguished from another, that is, a future one, would be purely extrinsic, namely,
that it will be in one place or another in the future. In the present there is in fact no
distinction; indeed, neither can one be assumed with any ground in the future, because
even in the future there will never be available any present distinction, since there will
be no mark whatever by which one place can be distinguished from another or one
part of matter from another in the same place (by the hypothesis of such a perfect
uniformity in matter itself).
It would also be vain to have recourse to figure in addition to motion. For in a per-
fectly similar, undifferentiated, and filled mass there can arise no shape or limitation
or distinction of different parts, except through motion itself. It therefore motion con-
tains no distinguishing mark, it can also bestow none upon figure, and since everything
which is substituted for a prior thing must be perfectly equivalent to it, no observer,
not even an omniscient one, will see even the smallest indication of a change. And so
everything will be the same as if no change or differentiation had taken place in the
bodies, and no reason can be given for the diverse appearances which we experience by
sense. 13 This would be as if we assumed two perfect concentric spheres perfectly simi-
lar, each to the other as wholes as well as in their parts, the one included in the other
so that not even the slightest gap existed; then if we assumed the included sphere to
revolve or to be at rest, not even an angel (not to say more) could observe a distinction
between the states of the two spheres at different times or have any criterion by which
to distinguish whether the included sphere is at rest or turning, and according to what
law of motion. In fact, not even a boundary between the different spheres could be defined

because of the lack, at the same time, of a gap and a difference, just as the motion could
not be recognized, solely because of the lack of a difference. Hence we must hold it for
certain - even if those who have not penetrated sufficiently deeply into these matters may
not perceive it - that such things are foreign to the nature and order of things and that
there is no perfect similarity anywhere; this is one of my new and most important
axioms. A consequence of this is also that there are to be found in nature no corpus-
cles of extreme hardness, no fluids of greatest thinness, no universally diffused subtle
matter, no ultimate elements such as some thinkers call primary and secondary.14 It is
because Aristotle had seen something of these principles, I believe, that he concluded
(he being in my opinion more profound than many people think) that there is needed
some alteration besides change in place, and that matter is not similar to itself every-
where and does not remain invariable. But this dissimilarity or diversity of qualities,
and this d).).o[Q)(JI~ or alteration, which Aristotle did not adequately explain, come
from the different degrees and directions of the impulses and therefore from the modi-
fications existing within the monads themselves. I think we understand further from
these considerations that something must necessarily be assumed in bodies other than
a uniform mass and its transportation - which certainly changes nothing. Of course
those who hold to atoms and a vacuum at least diversify matter somewhat, by making
it divisible in one place, indivisible in another, full in one place, with intervening
spaces in another. But a long time ago, after ridding myself of youthful prejudices,
I saw that we must reject atoms and a vacuum. The famous man adds that the existence
of matter through different moments of time is to be ascribed to the divine will; why
not then, he asks, also ascribe to the same being the fact that it exists here and now?
1 reply that this is undoubtedly due to God, as are all other things insofar as they
involve some degree of perfection. But just as that first and universal cause which
conserves all things does not destroy but rather supports the natural permanence of a
thing which comes into existence and the perseverance in existence once bestowed
upon it, so this same cause will not destroy, but rather confirm, the natural efficacy
of a thing which is set in motion, and the perseverance in action once impressed
upon it.
14. Many other things appear in this 'Apologetic Dissertation' which involve diffi-
culties; for instance, what he says in the chapter (chap. iv., Sec. 11) about a moving
globe being translated through many intermediate positions into collision with another
globe-to the effect that the last globe is moved with the same force by which the first is
moved. Here it seems to me that they are moved with equivalent forces, but not with
the same force, since each one is set in motion by its own force, namely, by elastic
force, when driven back by the body striking it, though this may seem remarkable.
(I am not now discussing the cause of this elasticity, nor do I deny that it must be
explained mechanically by the motion of a fluid existing in and moving through it.)
His remark in Section 12, that a thing which cannot give itself original motion cannot
continue its motion by itself, will therefore also rightly seem strange. For it is clear
that on the contrary, as force is necessary to impart motion, so, once the impulse is
imparted, far from being needed to continue this motion, it is rather needed to stop it.
Such conservation is made necessary in things by a universal cause, which this is not
the place to discuss, but which, as I have already cautioned, would destroy the sub-
stance of things if it destroyed their efficacy.
15. These considerations make it clear, further, that the doctrine of occasional
causes which some defend (unless it is interpreted in a way that makes possible some
moderations, as Sturm has partly admitted and partly seems to want to admit) is
fraught with dangerous consequences, even if its learned defenders do not, as is un-
doubtedly true, intend them. So far is this doctrine from increasing the glory of God by
removing the idol of nature that it seems rather, like Spinoza, to make out of God the
nature of the world itself, by causing created things to disappear into mere modifica-
tions of the one divine substance, since that which does not act, which lacks active
force, and which is despoiled of all distinctiveness and even of all reason and ground
for subsistence can in no way be a substance. I am most certainly convinced that Mr.
Sturm, a man distinguished in piety and learning, is far removed from such monstro-
sities. So there is no doubt that he will either show clearly on what ground any sub-
stance or even any change is left in things, according to his doctrine, or he will extend
his hand to the truth.
16. There are many things, in fact, which make me suspect all the more that I have
failed adequately to understand his opinion, and he mine. He has somewhere admitted
to me that a certain particle 0/ the divine power can, and indeed must, be understood in
a sense as belonging to and attributed to things. (In my opinion such a particle must be
an expression, an imitation, a proximate effect of the divine power, for this power
itself cannot be cut up into parts in any case.) This is shown in his letters to me and
repeated in the passage of the Elective Physics cited at the beginning of this paper. If,
as appears from his words, this is to be understood in the sense in which we call the
soul a part of the divine breath, the controversy between us at this point is already
ended. But I hesitate the more to affirm that this is what he means, because I do not
see him saying anything of this sort elsewhere or expounding any consequences from
this view. On the contrary, I observe that his other remarks have very little coherence
with this opinion, while the 'Apologetic Dissertation' leads to entirely different con-
clusions. It is true that when my opinions on an inherent force were first published in
the Leipzig Acta eruditorum of March, 1694, and further elaborated in my Specimen
dynamicum in the same journal for April, 1695 15 , he raised certain objections in a
letter and after receiving my reply, generously said that there was no difference
between us except in our way of speaking. But when I commented on this and still
raised several issues, he turned about and pointed out many differences between us,
which I acknowledge. These had hardly been uncovered, however, when it occurred
to him again, very recently, to write me that except for a difference in terms there is no
difference between us. This would be most pleasing to me. I have therefore tried, on
the occasion of this latest 'Apologetic Dissertation', to explain the matter so that our
individual opinions and their truth can at length be established more easily. For this
distinguished man possesses great ingenuity of insight and keenness in exposition, so
that I hope his study will throw no small light upon our problem and that my work will
not prove useless because it has provided him an occasion for weighing and throwing
light with his customary industry and force of judgment upon important aspects of the
present discussion which have so far been overlooked by other authors and myself.
Thus these considerations will be supplemented by new, more profound, and more
widely extended axioms, from which there can sometime come a restored and revised
system of philosophy midway between the formal and the material but rightly com-
bining and preserving both.

REFERENCES
* The full title adds: 'To Serve to Confirm and Illustrate the Author's Dynamics.'
1 The following bibliographical notes may make the references in the essay clearer: Robert
Boyle's Tractatus de ipsa natura (1688) repeated the mechanical conception of nature which he
formulated in his Free Inquiry of 1682. On it Sturm based his De naturae agentis idolo (1692),
to which Schelhammer replied in Natura sibi et medicis vindicata in 1697. Sturm's reply, De
natura sibi incassum vindicata (1698), is the work to which Leibniz here refers as the 'Apologetic
Dissertation'. The Elective Physics is Sturm's Physica electiva sive hypothetica, published
in 1697.
2 On the various vitalistic theories of nature which Leibniz had critized since 1669, see p. 104,
note 20; p. 328, note 14; p. 412, note 37; and p. 452, note 15. He frequently cited the pseudo-
Hippocratic work, Peri diaites (especially in his correspondence with Arnauld), in connection
with his view that animals are never truly generated or destroyed.
3 See Aristotle's Physics iii. 1. Leibniz returns to Aristotle's conception of motion at greater
length in the New Essays, III, i, 9.
4 The two mathematicians were probably John Bernoulli and Christian Huygens, who had
died in 1695. See the letter to Bayle, December 27,1698 (G., III, 57), and Gueroult, Dynamique
et mitaphysique leibniziennes, chap. IV, esp. pp. 98-109.
5 See No. 50 and p. 452, note 16.
6 "Let the earth produce and animals bring forth their kind."
7 The allusions are to the phrases "let there be" and "it is good" in chapter 1 of Genesis.
8 The sharpening of Leibniz's condeInnation of Spinoza since the papers following 1678 is
conspicuous.
9 The conversion of the proposition actiones sunt suppositorum (see Introduction, Sec. V, and
p. 119, note 11 into "every substance acts" is in need of empirical grounding; Leibniz's
entire physics, biology, and psychology are efforts to do so. It is difficult to see, however,
how the principle really establishes pluralism .Leibniz merges two things - God's impression
of a law of individuality and of force upon creatures.
10 Louis de la Forge anticipated occasionalism in his Traite de ['ame humaine, de sesfacultes
etfonctions et de son union avec Ie corps suivant les Principes de R. Descartes (1666).
11 The term 'monad', which here appears for the first time in these selections, is widely
held to have been used first by Leibniz in a letter to Fardella on September 3/13,1696, and to
have been borrowed from the younger Van Helmont, who visited Hanover early in 1696 (see
L. Stein, Leibniz und Spinoza, pp. 209-10). But the term had been in use since Bruno, and
Leibniz had used related terms such as monas and monades in his early writings.
12 This is a misleading remark, since secondary matter, as matter, is phenomenal, and only the
aggregated monads whose passive force is expressed as resistance or inertia are substantial.
Cf. the letter to John Bernoulli in the same year mc., 11,370-71): "Matter in itself, or mass
[moles], which may be called primary matter, is no substance, not even an aggregate of sub-
stances, but something incomplete. Secondary matter [massa] is not one substance but a
plurality of substances."
13 Leibniz's argument that we have no criterion for individual differences and change without
an intrinsic force seems to have full effect against all purely logical and mathematical analyses
of the physical world. But it is not clear how it establishes an internal force in addition to
motion. His use of the principle of geometric similarity, and its limitation by his injection of
change and force, must be understood in terms of his separation of dynamics, phorometry,
and geometry after his criticism of Descartes's physics in the 1680's.
14 A reference to Descartes's distinction, in the Principles of Philosophy, Part III, Sec. 52,
between three levels of matter or "elements of the visible world".
15 See Nos. 45 and 46.
PART IV
HANOVER UNDER GEORGE LOUIS

1698-1716
54
CORRESPONDENCE WITH JOHN BERNOULLI

1698-99
The Bernoulli brothers, John and James (the nephew Daniel had not yet come on the
scientific scene), were among Europe's outstanding mathematicians and among the first to
champion Leibniz's new infinitesimal analysiS. They had entered into the solution of the
great test problems of the 1690's in keen, jealous rivalry with each other as well as with
other scientists - John at Groningen, James at Bern. Leibniz's correspondence with both
was extensive but chiefly mathematical and physical in content. Near the end of the
century a three-cornered exchange developed between Leibniz, John Bernoulli, and
Burcher de Voider (No. 55) in which certain issues connected with the nature of matter
and the infinite were discussed.
Earlier in 1698 Leibniz had suggested that the infinites and infinitesimals of his calculus
are "imaginary, yet fitted for determining reals, as are imaginary roots. They have their
place in the ideal reasons by which things are ruled as by laws, even though they have no
existence in the parts of matter." He suggested also that "the real infinite is perhaps the
absolute itself, which is not made up ofparts but which includes beings having parts, in an
eminent way and in proportion to the degree of their perfection" (June 7,1698; GM.,
III,499-500}.lThe following letter summarizes the discussion about this point. The
mathematical portions, concerned primarily with the solution of the catenary, are
omitted.
[GM., Ill, 551-53]

Hanover, November 18, 1698
... You say that my discussions of more metaphysical matters are entirely too laconic,
but I took pains, I believe, to speak accurately and fully. If there remain some doubts
however, I shall try to satisfy you by replying to them. You say that I have given
definitions rather than explanations. But would that definitions might always be given,
for they virtually contain the explanations! As concerns infinitesimal terms, it seems
to me not only that we cannot penetrate to them but that there are none in nature, that
is, that they are not possible. Otherwise, as I have already said, I admit that if I could
concede their possibility, I should concede their being. z We must see, therefore, what
reason can be used to demonstrate that a straight line, for example, is possible which
is infinite yet terminated on both ends. But I come to your points.
On 1. When I said that primary matter is that which is merely passive and separated
from souls or forms, I said the same thing twice, for it would be the same if I had said
that it is merely passive and separate from all activity. Forms are for me nothing but
activities or entelechies, and substantial forms are the primaryentelechies.
On 2. I have preferred to say that the active is incomplete without the passive, and
the passive without the active, rather than to speak of matter without form and form

without matter, in crder to use terms already explained rather than terms still to be
explained - and also somehow to apply your advice before you give it, for our moderns
will popularly take less offense at the term 'activities' than at that of 'forms'.
On 3. We need not be stopped by the fact that the Cartesians deny anything in the
body analogous to the soul, for they have no reasons for denying it, and it does not
follow that a thing has no being merely because we cannot have a sensory image of it.
On 4. It has long seemed ridiculous to me that the nature of the universe should be
so niggardly or grudging that it has provided souls only to such insignificant masses as
the human bodies on this earth of ours, when it could have provided them to all bod-
ies without interfering with its other goals.
On 5. How far a piece of flint must be divided in order to arrive at organic bodies
and hence at monads, I do not know. But it is easy to see that our ignorance in these
things does not at all prejudice the matter itself.
On 6. I do not believe that there is any minimal animal or living being, that there is
any without an organic body, or any whose body is not further divisible into more sub-
stances. Therefore we never arrive at living points or points endowed with forms.
If you have a: clear idea of the soul, you will also have one of forms, for they are the
same genus but different species.
You are right in concluding that we ought not to reject something merely because
we do not perceive it clearly and distinctly. No matter how much the good Cartesians
talk about their clear and distinct perceptions, they do not seem to me to perceive even
extension in this way.
For the rest, if we conceive of soul or form as the primary activity, from whose
modifications the secondary forces arise as figures arise from the modifications of
extension, I believe we shall have satisfied the demands of understanding. 3 There can
be, that is, no active modifications of something whose essence is purely passive,
because modifications limit rather than increase or add. Hence we must assume, be-
sides extension, which is the seat or the principle of figures, a seat or first bearer
[proton dektikon]4 of actions, namely soul, form, life, primary entelechy, or what-
ever you wish to call it.
I approve thoroughly of your advice that we should refrain from mentioning
primary matter and substantial forms in our discussions with Cartesians and similar
people and content ourselves with mentioning only passive mass in itself and entelechy
or primary activity, soul, or life.
You are also entirely right in thinking that all the bodies in the world arise from an
interaction of internal forces, and I have no doubt that these forces are coeval with
matter itself, for I believe that matter cannot subsist in itself without forces. I think,
nevertheless, that primary or living entelechies are different from dead forces, which
themselves probably always arise from living forces, as is apparent when a centrifugal
tendency, which must be considered a dead force, arises from the living force causing
rotation. Life, or the first entelechy, is something more than any simple dead tendency
for I believe it includes also perception and appetite, both corresponding to the present
state of the organs in an animal.
Your discussion is in full agreement with my opinion, and you confirm my principle
that changes do not occur by a leap. Besides, it is no jest, but a firm conviction of
mine, that there are animals in the world as much greater than ours as ours are greater
than the animalcules of the microscope. Nature knows no limits. And so it is possible
HANOVER UNDER GEORGE LOUIS, 1698-1716 513
on the other hand - indeed, it is necessary - that there should be worlds not inferior to
our own in beauty and variety, in the smallest bits of dust, in fact, in atoms. And
though this may seem even more wonderful, nothing prevents animals from passing
over into such worlds when they die. For I am of the opinion that death is nothing
but the contraction of an animal, as generation is nothing but its unfolding [evolutio).
It was my opinion long before Newton's work, that gravity is inversely proportional
to the square of the distance, a theory at which I arrived not merely by a posteriori
processes but also by an a priori reason, which I am surprised that he did not notice.
Leaving out of consideration the physical basis of gravity, namely, and remaining
within mathematical concepts, I consider gravity as an attraction caused by certain
radii or attractive lines going out from an attracting center; so, like the density of
illumination in rays of light, the density of radiation in gravitational attraction will
be inversely proportional to the square of the distance from the radiant point. ...
II
[GM., III, 574-75]
February 21, 1699
... Possible things are those which do not imply a contradiction; actual things are
nothing but the best of possibles, everything considered. And so things that are less
perfect are not therefore impossible, for we must distinguish between the things which
God can do and those which he wills to do; he can do all things, but he wills the best.
When I say that God elects out of infinite possibilities, I mean the same as you when
you say that he has elected from eternity. Your remark that it is impossible for him to
revoke his decisions and then to create other things than those he has decided to
create, pertains to hypothetical necessity, which we are not discussing here.
I know that, as you imply, there are many who doubt that we can know what con-
forms to the divine wisdom and justice. Yet I believe that just as our geometry and
our arithmetic are true for God as weIl, so general laws of the good and the just, of
mathematical certainty, are also valid for God. And even if evil in itself is less than
nothing, it sometimes increases reality when conjoined to other things, as shadows are
useful in pictures and dissonances in music. I have no doubt that evil is aIlowed when
a greater good grows from it.
It is most pleasing that my opinion about the union and intercourse between soul
and body does not conflict with the view which you and Mr. Braun hold. But those
who hold the problem to be so far inexplicable and miraculous, as it were, do not seem
to have understood my view sufficiently, for if I am not mistaken, every difficulty is
met in it. My reply to two objections which seemed of great importance to you has
not displeased Mr. Bayle. Even if the soul does not consist of parts, yet in its percep-
tions it expresses a thing consisting of parts, namely, the body. Since it has many per-
ceptions at the same time, therefore, and future consequences arise naturally from
present perceptions, it is not strange that so many modifications flow spontaneously
from the soul. There is also no doubt that our future states are already in some way
involved in our present ones, though they cannot be distinguished because of the multi-
tude and smaIlness of the perceptions occurring at the same time. I have sent this and
other matters to Bayle in letters, and Mr. Basnage promised to insert my reply in his
last quarterly review, issued in the fall oflast year, ifI am not mistaken. 5 •••

In your exposition of my theory about the subject matter of entelechies there are
some things which I should not venture to affirm as you do. For in those matters
where certainty can be had, I do not like to use hypotheses, yet it is sufficient to consider
the whole of the matter. To your objections I should make this reply. When I say that
the moment of death cannot be defined, I at once signify that in a metaphysical sense
there is no such moment; nor do I see that it destroys the law of continuity to say that
somehow a great change takes place in this very short time. It is quite consistent for
such a thing to happen in nature, especially in deaths. For it happens that composite
machines are slowly formed but easily destroyed. Yet the wisdom of the Author of the
universe brings it about that what is best for the world as a whole is always consid-
ered. In this theater it is possible for the same animal to be pro~uced more than
once, yet I believe that the contrary is also possible. Reason does not determine this
question very easily, therefore, and I hold it for a deeper investigation.
You do not reply to the reason which I have proposed for the view that, given infini-
tely many terms, it does not follow that there must also be an infinitesimal term. This
reason is that we can conceive an infinite series consisting merely of finite terms or of
terms ordered in a decreasing geometric progression. I concede the infinite plurality of
terms, but this plurality itself does not constitute a number or a single whole. It means
nothing, in fact, but that there are more terms than can be designated by a number.
Just so there is a plurality or a complex of all numbers, but this plurality is not a
number or a single whole .....
REFERENCES
1 Compare the note to the letter to Des Bosses on September 1, 1706 (0., 11,314), on the
distinction between a syncategorematic, a hypercategorematic, and a categorematic infinite.
This note is translated in the Introduction, Sec. VI, p. 31. See also p. 541, note 21.
S Leibniz obviously anticipates some of Berkeley's later empirical objections to the foundations
of the calculus. Though he suggests a number of interpretations in the letter to Varignon (No.
56), his reply to Berkeley could be inferred from his reply to Locke. Ideas are for him not
merely objects of the mind, but operators, and the concept of infinitesimal is ofthis kind.
3 Secondary or derivative force is the variable quantity of activity in the monad, and on the
phenomenal level, of any material system and is therefore a function of time, while primary
force is the permanent basis or co.urse of action. The two are related as law and its particular
values.
4 See Aristotle Physics vi. 4. 248b, 249a.
5 See No. 52.
55
CORRESPONDENCE WITH DE VOLDER

1699-1706
Burcher de Voider (1643-1709) held the professorships of philosophy, physics, and

mathematics in the University of Leyden. Highly esteemed by his contemporaries, ap-
pointed as his literary executor by his fellow-countryman Huygens, he was excellently
qualified to test the consistency and clarity of Leibniz's philosophical analyses. Though
considered a Cartesian, he had shown independence ofjudgment in examining Descartes's
physics and metaphysics.
De Voider was brought into correspondence with Leibniz through a criticism of the
calculus which he offered to John Bernoulli. He took issue also, from a Cartesian
viewpoint, with Leibniz's theory of the conservation of force and with his conviction
that an elastic force must be assumed in bodies in addition to extension and impene-
trability. Referred by Bernoulli to Leibniz, these objections called forth a metaphysical
justification of the conservation of force and therefore a development of the notion of
substance. At first Leibniz's letters, of which only the most important are here translated,
show a reluctance to discuss his still unperfected concept of substance and express his
feeling that his own efforts are hypothetical and incomplete and should be a part of a
co-operative enterprise. Eventually, however, his letters reveal irritation at De Voider's
persistence, and he finally affirms his own dynamic idealism as against the latter's
realism.
[G., II, 168-75]

Hanover, March 24/April3, 1699
No more outstanding example could easily have been given, both of your very pene-
trating judgment and of your uncommon love of truth, than that which you have
given me in your excellent and most friendly letter. I wish my capacity were as great
as my will to do justice to it. But est aliquid prodire tenus 1; what is not yet ready
to be defended by rigorous demonstrations will meanwhile commend itself as a hy-
pothesis which is clear and beautifully consistent within itself and with phenomena.
I believe also that to anyone who considers it attentively, most of it will seem certain.
This is the axiom that I use - no transition is made through a leap. I hold that this
follows from the law of order and rests upon the same reason by which everyone
knows that motion does not occur in a leap; that is, that a body can move from one
place to another only through intervening positions. I admit that once we have
assumed that the Author of things has willed continuity of motion, this itself will
exclude the possibility of leaps. But how can we prove that he has willed this, except
through experience or by reason of order? For since all things happen by the perpetual
production of God, or, as they say, by continuous creation, why could he not have
transcreated a body, so to speak, from one place to another distant place, leaving

behind a gap either in time or in space; producing a body at A, for example, and then
forthwith at B, etc. ? Experience teaches us that this does not happen, but the principle
of order proves it too, according to which, the more we analyze things, the more they
satisfy our intel/ect. This is not true of leaps, for here analysis leads us to mysteries
[apPI1ra:]. Thus I believe that the same thing applies not only in transitions from place
to place but also in transitions from one form to another or from one state to another.
For experience, as well, refutes all changes through a leap. And I do not believe that
any reason a priori can be given against a leap from place to place which is not also
effective against a leap from state to state... ,
•.. I do not think: that substance is constituted by extension alone, since the concept
of extension is incomplete. Nor do I think that extension can be conceived in itself,
but I consider it an analyzable and relative concept, for it can be resolved into plurality,
continuity, and coexistence or the existence of parts at one and the same time. Plurality
is also contained in number, and continuity also in time and motion; coexistence
really applies to extension only. But it would appear from this that something must
always be assumed which is continuous or diffused, such as the white in milk, the
color, ductility, and weight in gold, and resistance in matter.2 For by itself, continuity
(for extension is nothing but simultaneous continuity) no more constitutes substance
than does multitude or number, where something is necessary to be numbered,
repeated, and continued. So I believe that our thinking is completed and ended in the
concept of force rather than in that of extension. And we need seek no other concept
of power or force than that it is the attribute from which change arises, and whose
subject is substance itself. I do not see anything here which escapes the understanding.
The nature of the matter does not allow anything more explicit, such as a picture.
I think that the extended has a unity only in an abstract sense, namely, when we leave
out of consideration the internal motion of the parts, for each part of matter is itself
subdivided further into actually different parts; this the plenitude does not at all
prevent. Nor are the parts of matter different only in their modes, if they are distin-
guishable from each other by the souls and entelechies which subsist always.
Somewhere in his letters I have observed that Descartes too, following Kepler's
example, has acknowledged that there is inertia in matter. 3 This you derive from the
power which you say everything has to remain in its own state and which is not dif-
ferent from the nature of that thing itself. So, you believe, the simple concept of exten-
sion suffices to explain this phenomenon too. But the axiom that a body conserves
its own state needs itself to be changed, for a body moving in a curve, for example,
does not conserve its curvilinear path but only its direction. But granted that there is
in matter a force to maintain its state, this force can certainly not be derived in any
way from extension alone. I admit that each thing remains in its state unless there is
a reason for change; this is the principle of metaphysical necessity. But it is one thing
to retain its state until there is something which changes it, which this may do even
though it is in itself indifferent to either state; it is another and far more significant
matter if a thing is not indifferent to change but has a force and an inclination, as it
were, to retain its state and so to resist motion. Thus in a book written long ago when
I was young, I proceeded on the assumption that matter in itself is indifferent to
motion and rest and concluded from this that the largest body, at rest, must be moved
by any impelling body, however small, without any weakening of the latter; from this
I then derived the abstract rules of motion for the system. 4 And such a world in
which matter at rest would obey the moving body without any resistance, could indeed
be imagined as possible, but such a world would actually be pure chaos. So the two
tests upon which I always depend - success in experiment and the principle of order -
caused me later to recognize that matter has been so created by God that there inheres
in it a certain repugnance to motion and, to put it in a word, a resistance, insofar as
the body in itself withstands being moved and thus opposes all motion if at rest, or
all greater motive force applied in the same direction if in motion, so that it weakens
the force of the impelling body. Since matter in itself therefore resists motion by a
general passive force of resistance but is set in motion by a special force of action, or
entelechy, it follows that inertia also constantly resists the entelechy or motive force
during its motion. Hence I showed in the preceding letter that the united force is
stronger, or that the force is twice as great if two degrees of speed are combined in
1 pound, than if they are dispersed through 2 pounds, and that the force of 1 pound
moved at double velocity is therefore twice as great as that of 2 pounds moved at the
simple velocity, because, though the quantity of velocity is the same in both cases,
the inertia of matter offers only half the resistance in the case of 1 pound. This ine-
quality in forces which exists between 1 pound and 2, with a velocity inversely recipro-
cal to their masses, has been demonstrated in another way from our measurement of
forces, but it is also nicely demonstrable from this consideration of inertia, so complete-
ly is everything in agreement. Thus the resistance of matter contains two factors:
impenetrability or antitypy, and resistance or inertia. And since these two factors
are everywhere equal in a body or are proportional to its extension, it is in them
that I locate the nature of the passive principle or of matter, even as I recognize, in
the active force which exerts itself in various ways through motion, the primitive en-
telechy or in a word, something analogous to the soul, whose nature consists in a
certain perpetual law of the same series of changes through which it runs unhindered.
We cannot dispense with this active principle or ground of activity, for accidental or
changing active forces and their motions are themselves certain modifications of some
substantial thing, but forces and actions cannot be modifications of a merely passive
thing such as matter. It follows, therefore, that there is a primary active or substantial
being which is modified by an added disposition of matter or of passivity. Hence
secondary or motive forces and motion itself must be ascribed to a secondary matter
or to the complete body which results from the active and the passive together.
And so I come to the communication between the soul or entelechy of the organic
body and the mechanism of its organs. I am happy that my hypothesis about this
does not entirely displease a man of your acumen and discernment. You make it very
clear, in fact, when you ascribe an adequate idea of the corporeal mechanism to the
soul; this is just what I mean when I say that it is the nature of the soul to represent
the body. Therefore whatever follows from the laws of body must necessarily be
represented in order by the soul to itself, some of it distinctly but some confusedly
(that, namely, in which a multitude of bodies is involved). In the former case, the soul
understands; in the latter, it senses. Meanwhile, I think that you agree with me that
the soul is one thing, and the idea of the body another, for the soul remains the same,
but the idea of the body changes as the body itself changes, whose present modifica-
tions it always reveals. Of course the idea of the present state of the body is always
in the soul, but it is not simple and hence not purely passive but is combined with a
tendency toward a new idea arising out of the earlier one, so that the soul is the source

and foundation of different ideas of the same body, which arise according to a pres-
cribed law. But if you take the term 'adequate idea' to mean not that which changes but
the constant law of change itself, I have no objection; in this sense I will say that there
is in the soul an idea of the body and also the phenomena which proceed from it.
For the rest, there are in all of these matters certain things which should be dis-
cussed more thoroughly, which I shall not fail to do when occasion offers. For even
though I cannot easily demonstrate everything a priori with geometric rigor, or give
accurate explanations even where I see the reasons, I yet venture to promise that no
objection can be offered which I shall be unable to satisfy. This in itself is, I believe,
not to be disdained in matters so far removed from sense, especially since the agree-
ment of scientific teachings, both with phenomena and among themselves, is among
the most powerful tests of their truth. Objections which have any weight always serve
to clarify the nature of any issue, and so I recognize how very much I and all lovers of
truth are indebted to you, for I feel that you kindle such a light for me that I seem to
understand my own ideas better by reading yours. If by your aid, and that of the
Bemoullis and other men like them (would there were not so very few of them), I
shall sometime be able to succeed in supporting with clear demonstrations what I can
now only defend in one way or another - I shall not begrudge to others my light
which lowe in great part to you. At least I shall dread the opinions of others the
less for having relied upon your judgment. 5 •••
II
[In his reply 0/ May 13, 1699, De Voider attacked Leibniz's analysis of substance as
complex and insisted upon a return to a 'logical' approach to the problem instead of
the physical and metaphysical ones. We have the idea of a substance, he held, only if we
have a simple concept from which no essential can be removed without destroying the
entire concept. Extension is such a concept; change, motion, and force are not. The
concept of 'a subject of change' is a purely formal designation which throws no light on
the nature of such substance, as extension does, for example, upon its accident, motion.]
[G., 11,182-85]6
, Hanover,June23,1699
... Your statements about the concept of substance are as usual subtle and ingenious.
It is within the arbitrary choice of anyone to assign names to concepts, yet concepts
thus named do not always correspond either to actually existing things or even to
accepted usage. l'
You assert that the notion of substance is formed out of concepts and not out of
things. But are not concepts themselves formed from things? You say that the notion
of substance is a concept of the mind, or a rational entity, as they say. But the same
can be said of any concept, if I am not mistaken, and furthermore, it is not about
concepts but about the objects of concepts that we say entities are either real or ra-
tional. But substance, I believe, is a real entity - indeed, the most real. You say there
are two kinds of concepts, some representing a single unified something from which
nothing can be separated without destroying the whole; in your opinion this is the
concept of a substance, and you say that extension is such a concept. The other kind
of concept may represent two or more things. This is a little obscure to me. Surely
every concept or definition is such that you cannot remove anything without destroy-
ing the whole definition; yet in that case another concept may come into being in the
definition. Thus if you remove the concept of equal sides from the' definition of a
square, the square is destroyed but a rectangle remains. A concept from which nothing
can be removed must be simple and primitive, but I do not think that the concept of
substance should be established in this way or that the concept of extension is of this
kind. Furthermore, you say that those "two or more things" ate so related to each
other that one can be conceived without the other, and so perception and extension
are thus related that neither involves the other; extension is involved in motion but
not the contrary. And motion is thus an accident or mode. In all these things I hold
very different opinions. I believe that perception is involved in extension, and motion
as well, and that substance and accident equally involve and are involved in each
other. Extension is an attribute; the extended, or matter, is not substance but sub-
stances. Moreover, duration, particular time, and the enduring thing are in a relation
on the one hand, proportional to extension, place, and the placed thing on the other.
It does not seem that there can be things which do not have common attributes. 7 Nor
should I think that the concept of extension is primitive, or one from which nothing
can be withdrawn, since it may be analyzed into plurality, which it has in common
with number; into continuity, which it has in common with time; and into coexistence
in common even with things that are not extended. I should not have believed that
plurality is to be denied in the extended thing, especially if we admit that it has actual
parts; we should in that case also have to deny plurality to a herd or army, in other
words, everywhere. Continuity in motion is distinct from continuity of place, for it
contains continuity both of time and of variation in degree of velocity. Time is neither
more nor less a rational entity than space. To coexist and to exist before or after are
something real; they would not be, I admit, as matter and substances are commonly
understood. But it is easier to show what these concepts are not than to explain in
words what they are and to prove it with reasons.
You say that a subject of change is merely a logical concept; but it is enough that
it is true, though you could just as well have called it metaphysical. We despise
obvious things, yet the unobvious things sometimes follow from them. We must
start with nominal definitions, and it is of such a definition that I spoke when I said
that no other definition of power is needed than the one I had advanced. The other
consideration then becomes the causal one of how change takes place. And here there
can be things which escape our understanding. You say that the unity of an extended
thing is perceived even if it is divided into parts moved in different ways, since one
of these parts can n«ither exist nor be conceived without the others. Therefore you
assume two things wtpch I cannot concede: that one part of an extended thing cannot
exist or be conceived without the others and then, that such things form a unity.
From this you show that a vacuum is impossible. But your arguments do not achieve
this, and if it be conceded, it follows indeed that one part of matter cannot exist
without some other part, but it hardly follows that it cannot exist without these
particular others. Besides, unless I am deceived, this argument proves too much, for
according to it things removed from each other would still be one. As I understand
unity, such things are more properly to be called many, and they do not constitute a
unity except as an aggregate while they are grasped together in one thought. In what
is truly one substance there are not many substances. I recognize neither inertia nor

motion in extension; in extended matter I recognize both, but not by reason of its
extension.
You very rightly observe, in agreement with my own opinion, that it is in opposition
to the laws of power, cause, and effect, for a great body to be moved by a smaller
without penalty. But from this fact I prove that the body contains something dymamic
by virtue of which the laws of power are observed. It therefore contains something
besides extension and antitypy, for no such thing can be proved from these two alone.
I made this same reply to someone in the Parisian journal many years ago. I recognize
that resistance involves something besides passivity, that secondary motive forces
are not modifications of something merely passive, and that there must therefore be
an active substantial principle. This I have thought it worth while to point out for
the sake of those who do not yet hold that all substance is active. I think that an
extended substance completely at rest belongs among those things of which we cannot
form a distinct concept, like a most rapid motion.
You ask, Sir, whether in my judgment "the active principle is extension, or a mode
of extension, or a substance distinct from extension". I reply that the principle seems
to me to be substantial, and constitutive of the extended itself or of matter, that is,
of the thing which possesses not only extension and antitypy but also action and
resistance. Extension is itself, for me, an attribute resulting from many substances
existing continuously at the same time. So primitive force can be neither extension
nor a mode of it. Nor does it act upon extension but in the extended. When you ask
further if an inanimate body has its own entelechies "distinct from the soul", I reply
that it has innumerable such entelechies, since it consists in turn of parts each of
which is animated or as if animated. In the soul there is an adequate idea of matter,
yet the soul is not, for me, the idea of matter itself but the source of ideas for itself
and in itself - ideas born of its own nature but representing the different states of
matter in order. An idea is, so to speak, something dead and unchangeable in itself,
as is a figure; soul is rather something living and full of activity; and in this sense I
do not say that it is anyone idea which tends to change out of itself, but only various
ideas succeeding each other, one of which can, however, be derived from another.
But in another sense of the word, I could say that in some way the soul is a living or
substantial idea or more correctly, that it is an 'ideating' substance. Nor do I think
that you intend anything else when you say that ideas act upon each other in represent-
ing each other, for I do not believe that you regard ideas as substances colliding with
each other as do bodies....
These are the answers, illustrious Sir, which I thought could be made. I wish that
they could all be explained more distinctly and proved more soundly, but in this
infancy of our philosophy it is something to point out what seems to be irrefutable,
and to derive the rest from hypotheses which are few in number and worthy of
respect. Perhaps there will be a time when we can go further, especially if I continue
to gather rays from your light.
III
[Instead of the above letter Leibniz sent a much shorter one. De Voider's reply of
August 1,1699, returned to the principle of the conservation of force and particularly
to the problem of continuity raised in an earlier letter (No. I), in which Leibniz asserted
that no a priori argument could he given for continuous motion. Leihniz's reply, undated
hut in 1699, once more summarized these problems.]
[G., II, 192-95]
... For the rest, to mention a few other matters, you asked me to prove a priori the
law of the continuity of changes; I replied that a proof a priori might with equal right
·be demanded of the law of the continuity of motion. You offered a reason based
on direction, on the fact, namely, that moving bodies always adopt a straight line.
To this I replied that I did not see that the conclusion follows, for a cause which trans-
lates bodies anywhere by a leap could still act in such a way as to translate them
always in a straight line. So, unless I am mistaken, you would still have to show that
this is impossible, in order to make your proof absolute. I added the hypothesis of
transcreation for the sake of illustration, speaking philosophically and particularly
like the Cartesians, who say, with some ground, that God creates all things continuous-
ly.a For them, therefore, moving a body is nothing but reproducing it in successively
different places, and it would have to be shown that this reproduction cannot take
place in leaps. Rather, this could not be shown without returning to the reason which
I have proposed for the universal law of continuity. If you do not accept such a
re-creation of things, however, the same thing must be said regardless of what the
cause of motion may be. Then too, one can, in replying to an opponent, assume a
hypothesis which he does not accept, until the hypothesis has been refuted. You are
right in saying that an interruption of motion is inconsistent both with the velocity
and with the direction of motion, once you assume, that is, that motion is something
continuous in nature. But anyone who rejects continuity in things will say that motion
in its essence is nothing but a succession of leaps through intervening intervals,
which flow from the action of God and not from the nature of the thing moved, or
which are recreations by God in separate places. His philosophizing will then be
almost like that which would compound matter out of mere discrete points and would
support this opinion on the ground of the labyrinthine difficulties which surround the
nature of continuity, from which there do indeed follow, not the necessity of leaps,
but some other things which are not usually well understood. However, this hypothesis
of leaps cannot be refuted except by the principle of order, with the aid of the supreme
reason, which does everything in the most perfect way.
Since every extended body, as it is really found in the world, is in fact like an army
of creatures, or a herd, or a place of confluence, like a cheese filled with worms, a
connection between the parts of a body is no more necessary than is a connection be-
tween the parts of an army. 9 And just as some soldiers can be replaced by others in
an army, so some parts can be replaced by others in every extended body. Thus no
part has a necessary connection with any other part, even though it is true of matter
in general that when any part is removed, it must necessarily be replaced by some
other part, just as it is necessary, when soldiers are confined in a small inclosure or
one which will not hold many, for another to take the place of anyone who goes out.
I have already made enough suggestions about this in my previous letter, and I do
not see any point that can be made about any body whatsoever, apart from the soul,
which would not be equally valid for an army or a machine. Therefore I understand
a true unit (and not merely a sensible one), or a monad, to exist only where there is
something which does not contain many substances.

I too ascribe to motion (including in this the causes of motion) every variety of
bodies, yet I recognize a substantial distinction between the parts of matter. All
others also recognize this who assign a rational soul to man as something substantial
but without extension, though they do not always admit such a mind in all the parts
of matter as well.
You seem to designate as logical or metaphysical those concepts which explain
nothing, but I do not recognize such as concepts at all. So far is the concept which I
proposed from explaining nothing, however, that I think that proofs of great impor-
tance can be derived from it and from notions similar to it. But we are constituted so
full of preconceptions that although we properly distinguish in theory intelligible
things from those given in sense perception, so to speak, and declare that we distinguish
them, we do not observe the distinction in practice and regard almost as nothing
everything which is not to be grasped in images.
In no other way can I take what you say about not being able to understand the
things I asserted about an active principle prior to extension; you mean that you are
unable to imagine them. Meanwhile, if an opinion follows necessarily from premises
that are understood, we may consider it itself to be understood. If I am not mistaken,
you certainly understand something when the Cartesians speak of the human soul,
which I do not consider different in kind from other entelechies. To your first question
(what this active principle may be) I must therefore give the same answer as to the
question of what the soul may be, though I might also make a somewhat more distinct
reply. Incidentally, it seems that the power of preconception and authority is so great
that many people have convinced themselves that they understand in Descartes what
they deny they understand in others. If you interpret your second question (whether a
living body has an entelechy distinct from the soul) in such a way that it applies to the
living body as a whole and not to its separately animated parts, I reply that such a
body does not have any other entelechy except the soul and the entelechies of its se-
parately activated parts. Indeed, there would be no such soul of the whole, aside
from the soul of each separately animated part, if the soul did not dominate the whole
by virtue of the structure of that whole.
When you say that more causality or force is needed to move a larger body at a
given velocity than to move a smaller one at the same velocity, you are already tacitly
assuming that the body resists motion. For if it does not, but is indifferent and in a
state of equilibrium, as it were, I do not see what obstacle its magnitude can offer to
an impelling force, for no resistance can ever arise from an increase of such indifferent
masses. And likewise, if it is unnecessary to pass through intervening stages, then any
cause or impUlsion to motion whatever, which inclines or determines a body to a
given velocity and direction, will be enough, and hence any moving body, however
small, will be sufficient to carry with it any body, however large, without resistance
or impediment to its own motion. Since this does not happen, but rather the contrary,
namely, that a greater force must be expended and consumed to produce the motion
of a larger body, we must understand that matter resists motion. Hence bodies also
suffer compression before they allow themselves to be carried away; therefore, the
law of continuity is always obeyed in changes, and no greater motion can be produced
except by passing through the lesser stages of motion.
If the entelechy is entirely different from extension, you infer from this that it can
do nothing to extension. But does not motion differ from extension? Yet it can do
something to it. Accurately speaking, moreover, extension is merely something modal

like number and time, and not a thing, since it is an abstract designation of the con-
tinuous possible plurality of coexisting things, while matter is in fact this very plurality
of things itself and hence an aggregate of the things which contain entelechies. So I
do not admit an entelechy entirely separated from matter, if by the word "extension"
you mean matter in this sense. Finally, it means nothing in metaphysical rigor for
one thing to do something to another, except that one thing responds spontaneously
to the other - as we have already agreed in the case of the intercourse between soul
and body.
Do not apologize for your dissent, for such things are not matters of choice. The
pursuit of truth, care in investigation, and candor combined with moderation in
speech - these should be enough for us, nor can they be anything but useful and
pleasing to men of good will.
P.S. From our friend Bernoulli I have learned that you find it more important to
throw light upon the activity of substance than to estimate forces. I believe the same
thing and approve your judgment. Yet it has always seemed to me that the latter
question is the gateway through which to pass to the true metaphysics, since the
mind is surely gradually freed from the false notions of matter, motion, and corporeal
substance which are held popularly and by the Cartesians, when it comes to understand
that the rules of force and action cannot be derived from these notions and that we
must either take refuge in a deus ex machina or hold that there is something higher in
bodies themselves. If the mind is led without preparation into this holy of holies,
where it can suddenly view the entirely novel nature of substance and body fully and
from the beginning, we must fear that it will be blinded by the very abundance of
light.
IV
[Leibniz's efforts to sharpen his own analysis had little effect on De Voider, who in his
reply returned to his own definition of substance as that which is conceived in itself as a
simple idea from which nothing can be removed without destroying it. In his letter of
February 13,1701 (G., II, 223), he went so far as to call the idea of substance a
modus concipiendi independent of all attributes and repeated his challenge to Leibniz
to develop his own idea further.]
[G., II, 224-28]

Hanover, July 6, 1701
I return to my meditations and the long-interrupted duty of my correspondence, and
I beg your forgiveness for not having answered your last letter sooner. It is usually
the case that I postpone longer than I ought the things with which I wish to take
the most pains. I only wish that I could satisfy you the better for having delayed so
long. But I turn to your letter.
You say a substance is that whose concept so represents a unity that nothing of the
thing represented can be removed without the whole perishing. But cannot there be
a substance which adds new perfections to those of others? 1 0 But if I am not mistaken,
each single perfection of the thing represented is matter. Thus the Democriteans
think of space as a substance and of body as a more perfect substance which adds
resistance to extension. (As you well observe, these examples do not need to be true;

they are given merely to clarify.) Some of the moderns think that a new perfection
can be added to certain bodies, namely, that of thought, and the School has long
held that besides the simple animated body, there is a more perfect body which senses
and a most perfect one of all which is rational. I say this to point out that your concept
of substance does not seem to agree with those commonly so called but only with that
of the most simple substance. This is also true when you say that substance is that
which is conceived in itself, an opinion to which I have opposed the proposition that
an effect cannot be conceived better than through its cause, but that all substances
except the first have a cause. You reply that we need a cause to conceive the existence
of a substance but not to conceive its essence. But to this I answer that the concept
of a possible cause is needed for conceiving its essence, but to conceive its existence
the concept of an actual cause is needed. I can already foresee the elegant rejOinder
which you will make to this, based on an example in geometry. The essence of an
ellipse, for instance, does not depend on a cause, since the same ellipse can be produced
by different causes - the section of a cone, a cylindrical section, the motion of a string.
But the existence of an ellipse cannot be thought of without assuming some determinate
cause. My reply to this, however, is twofold. First, though it is not necessary to conceive a
determinate mode of generation to think of the essence of an ellipse, this essence,
whether of an ellipse or anything else, cannot be conceived perfectly unless its pos-
sibility can be demonstrated a priori through some formal cause which exists in every
individual method of generation. And to do this we must necessarily add some simpler
lines. In the second place, I have already established the fact that incomplete things
such as lines or figures can be similar to each other even if they are produced by
different causes, as an ellipse made by a conic section may be similar to an ellipse made
by motion in a plane. But in completely determined things this cannot happen, and
so one substance is not perfectly similar to another, nor can the same substance be
generated in many different ways. 11 On this ground (as well as on other considerations)
I once also concluded that there are no atoms, that space is not a substance, and
that primary matter itself, or matter separate from all activity, cannot be included
among substances.
I come now to the modes, which I agree with you in distinguishing from other
predicates, that is, from attributes and properties. Yet if we define them merely in
terms of their needing another concept, properties will also be modes. It is common to
both properties and modes to be in something. But this same definition will also fit
things which are not contained in something, such as effects which need causes to be
understood, as I have already said. On this basis all effects would be modifications of
their causes, and the same thing could be the mode of many things at the same time,
since the same thing can be the effect of many concurrent causes. Who will deny,
too, that one substance is modified by the intervention of another, as when a body
is repelled by some obstacle in its path? In order to conceive the rebound of one of
these bodies, therefore, the concept of both of them will be necessary, yet the rebound
can be the modification of only one, since the other may continue in its path without
rebound. Something more is needed in the definition of a modification, therefore,
than the necessity of another concept, and to be 'contained in' (a quality which is
common to both properties and modes) is more than to need something else. In my
opinion there is nothing in the whole created universe which does not need, for its
perfect concept, the concept of everything else in the universality of things, since
everything flows into 12 every other thing in such a way that if anything is removed
or changed, everything in the world will be different from what it now is.
For the rest, if A and B are two substances in the sense in which you define them,
that is, most simple, I admit that they cannot have a common predicate; yet it does
not necessarily follow from this that there cannot be some third thing C which needs
both of them for its concept. For just as relations result from a plurality of absolute
terms, so qualities and actions also result from a plurality of substances. And just as
a relation is not compounded from as many relations as there are terms to be related,
so neither are the other modes which depend upon many things resolvable into many
modes. 13 It does not follow, then, that a mode which requires many things is not a
unity but a composite of many modes. Besides, it is not clear how any modes could
possibly arise, according to your notion of them. For a substance such as you define,
which has only a simple representation or one attribute, will have only one mode,
and it does not appear how any diversity can arise, since only one can come from one.
Hence its mode will be invariant, contrary to your hypothesis. But even more, there
will not even be any mode, since it does not appear how there can come to be a mode
different from an attribute. So if we say, as is usually done, that a body contains
nothing but extension, and then conceive extension as a kind of simple and primitive
attribute, we can in no way explain how any variation can arise in bodies or how a
plurality of bodies can exist. I have in fact demonstrated elsewhere, in my reply to
Sturm which was published in the Leipzig Acts, that if matter were not heterogeneous
(which it becomes through the entelechies), there could arise no variety of phenomena,
and as a result equivalents would always replace each other. 14 For the rest, I make
no distinction here between the general concept of substance and the concept of a
determinate substance, for all substance is determinate, though different substances
are determined in different ways. As for my own notion of substance, I should prefer
to have it arise from our mutual discussion rather than to produce it myself
and intrude it, so to speak; certainly ,we seem to me to have made a good
beginning.
In turning back to the earlier of your two letters, I noticed some matters which
still need comment in order to form a better idea of the whole problem. It will be
difficult to give examples of a concept from which no representative mark can be
removed. Primitive concepts lie concealed in derivative ones but are hard to distinguish
in them. I doubt that a body can be conceived apart from motion; I admit that motion
cannot be conceived apart from body. But in the concept of motion there are included
not only body and change but a reason and a determinant of change as well, which
cannot be found in a body if its nature is considered to be purely passive, that is, to
consist in extension alone or even in extension and impenetrability. In extension I
think of many things together - on the one hand, continuity, which it has in common
with time and motion, and on the other, coexistence. So it is not necessary to think
of extension either as a whole or as nothing at all. To make extension possible, more-
over, there must clearly be something which is repeated continuously, or a plurality
of things which coexist continuously. You ask, Sir, what it is that we can think of in
a thing to which we ascribe extension, aside from this extension itself. I reply that
action and passion must be added to extension in the thing itself. Then, you reply,
extension will be a mode of the extended. I answer that extension, in my sense of the
term, will not be a mode of the substances from which it results, because it is itself

invariable and designates a numerical determination of these things which remains

the same in any change whatever. And you will surely agree with me that modes must
be variable. Meanwhile I admit that not only extension but also action and passion
cannot be thought of by themselves and that it is neither necessary nor easy to arrive
at concepts of ultimate simplicity, as I have already remarked. So if we insist on such
a concept alone as the concept of substance, I fear that we shall have to set aside all
created substances - and this would be to cut the knot, not to untie it. .,.
v
[Further efforts by the two correspondents to refine their respective notions of substance,
and of the relation of continuity, coexistence, and plurality in extension, led at length
to the following clear statement by Leibniz.]
[G., II, 239-41]

Hanover, April, 1702
... I do not believe that in the general concept of substance only one unique perfection
is to be considered. You seem indeed not to accept any substance save with one
attribute, and this is consistent with your concept of substance. For assuming that
there is a substance with attributes A and B, then since there can, for you, be another
substance with attribute A, it is evident that substance AB cannot be conceived
through itself but only through substance A. Hence you will not consider it a sub-
stance. Nor can there be any reason, if one absolute, simple attribute can constitute
a substance by itself, why another could not do so as well. But once you have assumed
that every substance has one simple attribute, you cannot in the nature of things
understand the origin of modifications and changes, for whence can these come but
from substances? I, in contrast, hold that there is no substance which does not involve
a relation to all the perfections of any other substances whatsoever. Hence no substance
with but one attribute can be conceived, nor can we, so far as I know, conceive of an
attribute or simple and absolute predicate by itself. I know that the Cartesians have
felt otherwise about the former point, and Spinoza about the latter, but I know also
that this resulted from a lack of adequate analysis, the touchstone of which is a
demonstration of predicates from the subject. For every demonstrable proposi-
tion whose demonstration we do not have must contain an insufficiently analyzed
term.
When I say that every substance is simple, I understand by this that it lacks parts.
Indeed, if all things which have a necessary connection with each other constituted one
substance, it would follow, assuming that we exclude a vacuum, that all parts of
matter would compose one substance, since they have a necessary connection. But
this same reasoning would confuse substance with an aggregate of substances, whereas
you point out quite correctly that we are here seeking the notion of substance, not
that of an aggregate of substances.
I do in fact accept the proposition against which, I believe, you argue that I ought
not to accept it, namely, "that if the extended were conceived by itself alone, it would
not be extended", for such an extended being would imply a contradiction. I also
think it certain that what can be conceived by itself alone cannot be located in space.
To be in a place is not a bare extrinsic denomination; indeed, there is no denomination
SO extrinsic that it does not have an intrinsic denomination as its basis. This is itself
one of my important doctrines. 15
... If I am not mistaken, you said that if two predicates which belong together to
the concept of a subject C are separable, that is, as I interpret it, if they can be found
without each other in other subjects, then the concept C is not a unitary one. I offered
the example of a square, whose predicates are those of being rectangular and equi-
lateral, two predicates which do not occur together elsewhere. This separation, more-
over, is certainly not merely one made in the mind; it exists in nature, since a quadri-
lateral may be rectangular but not equilateral, and a triangle may be equilateral and
110t rectangular. I cannot make a satisfactory application of your answer in your
last letter. I admit that at least some proportion between its sides is inseparable from
the concept of a rectangle, but such proportionality is one predicate, the proportion
of equality is another, and the two differ as genus and species. It makes no difference
whether the square has a 'prerogative of simplicity' over other rectangles if, indeed,
it does have it. Moreover, these two predicates also generally require different causes.
Let AB be moved along CD [perpendicular to it]; then the cause which makes A or
C a right angle is one thing and that which makes AB equal to CD is another. It is
easy to see, therefore, that this motion produces different effects. Yet the concept
of the square is nonetheless one.
Any two things A and B not only have in common that they are things or sub-
stances; they also have some kind of 'sympathy', as I remember saying in earlier
letters to which you did not seem to object.
The Cartesians think that some substance can be constituted by extension alone
because they conceive of extension as something primitive. But if they undertook to
analyze the concept, they would see that extension alone cannot suffice for an extended
being, any more than number suffices for the things that are enumerated. I agree with
you that just as the concept of the number 3 is not adequate to understand three
particular things, so the concept of diffusion is inadequate to understand the nature
of what is diffused. This is itself the very nature into which I think we ought to inquire.
And I leave it to your judgment whether this can be anything but a force [10 ovva:-
JiIKOV] from which activity and passivity follow.
Finally, granted that the a priori demonstration such as you desire for everything
cannot be given, will this make my hypothesis accord any less with the facts? If you
allow that it can be proved a posteriori, it will also be more valid than a hypothesis.
And is any reason that can be adduced more valid against your concept of substance
than the one which you yourself now acknowledge - that on the basis of it no modifica-
tions and changes can arise? Granted therefore that its impossibility is not to be
demonstrated, it would suffice to build our concepts so that they agree with experience
and practice, and to resolve our difficulties so that the road to higher reasons is
opened. If any doubts are raised against my remarks, therefore, I shall try to reply
freely and candidly, just as I have done until now. And perhaps you will look in
vain for even this in other hypotheses.
VI
[On August 19, 1702, Leibniz sent De Voider a copy of his response to Bayle's second
criticism (No. 60). In his next letter De Voider demanded that if mass and entelechy

be combined in the same substance, a necessary connection should be demonstrated

between them. Leibniz replied, in one of the most important letters in the series, with a
comprehensive exposition of his notion of individual substance.]
[G., II, 248-53]

Hanover, June 20, 1703 16
I am replying to both of your deeply thoughtful letters in one and the same writing.
I hope that my reply to Bayle has made my opinion about most matters clearer to
you as well; if I am not mistaken, your letter shows that it has. Mr. Bayle himself
writes that he now has a deeper insight into my hypothesis; his only remaining dif-
ficulty seems to concern the possibility of a spontaneous progression of thoughts in
the soul. But there is no difficulty here for me, either from the side of experience - for
since we often perceive such progression why cannot we believe it possible otherwise as
well - or on a priori grounds, since I conclude that it is necessary from the very
nature of all substance, which must act or have a tendency. Add to this also the fact
that the present is everywhere pregnant with the future (in completely determined
things, that is), so that all future states are pre-established in the present state.
Your own objections arise from other sources. I turn back first to your earlier
letter, in which you ask for a necessary connection between matter (or resistance)
and active force, so that they need not be joined superficially only. But the cause of
this connection is the fact that every substance is active and every finite substance is
passive as well, and connected with this passivity is resistance. Such a conjunction is
therefore demanded by the nature of things, which cannot be so impoverished as to
lack a principle of action, and does not permit a vacuum of forms any more than of
matter - not to mention the fact that the sources of action and of unity are the same.
I do not at all approve of the doctrine of attributes which people are formulating
today; as if one simple absolute predicate, which they call an attribute, constituted
a substance. Nor do I find any entirely absolute predicates in concepts, that is, any
which do not involve connections with other predicates. Certainly thought and exten-
sion, which are commonly proposed as examples, are far from being such attributes,
as I have often shown. And, unless the predicate is taken concretely [in concreto], it
is not the same as the subject; so the mind coincides with the thinker indeed (though
not formally) but not with the thinking. For it is a property of the subject to involve
future and past thoughts in addition to present ones. 17
Those who find the distinction between bodies to lie solely in what they think of
as modes of extension (as almost everybody does today, you say) claim that in ex-
cluding a vacuum, they do not reject the view that bodies differ from each other only
modally.ls But two individual substances must be distinguished more than modally.
Besides, as the matter is commonly understood, they will not even be found to be
distinguished modally. For if you assume two bodies A and B to be equal and with
the same figure and motion, it will follow from such a concept of body, that is, a
concept drawn solely from the putative modes of extension, that these bodies will
have no intrinsic marks at all by which to be distinguished. Does this mean that A
and B are not diverse individuals? Or is it possible for two things to be diverse which
can in no way be distinguished? This and countless other considerations of the same
kind show conclusively that this new philosophy which forms substances out of
material or passive entities alone completely upsets the true conceptions of things.
Things which are different must differ in something or must have within themselves
some diversity that can be noted. It is strange that men have not applied this most
obvious axiom, along with so many others. But people are generally content to satisfy
their imaginations and do not worry about reasons; hence so many monstrosities
introduced to the injury of the true philosophy. Thus they commonly use only in-
complete and abstract concepts, which thought supports but which nature does not
know in their bare form; such notions as that of time, also of space or of what is
extended only mathematically, of merely passive mass, of motion considered math-
ematically, etc. Such concepts men can easily imagine to be diverse without diversity-
for example, two equal parts of a straight line, since the straight line is something
incomplete and abstract, which needs to be considered only in theory. But in nature
every straight line is distinguishable by its contents from every other. Hence it cannot
happen in nature that two bodies are at once perfectly similar and equal. Also, things
which differ in position must express their position, that is, their surroundings, and
are hence not to be distinguished merely by their location or by a solely extrinsic
denomination, as such things are commonly understood. Hence there can be no
bodies in nature as they are commonly conceived, like the atoms of the Democriteans
and the perfect globules of the Cartesians, and these are nothing but the incomplete
cogitations of philosophers who have not thoroughly investigated the natures of
things.19 In my last reply to Sturm I used another unassailable argument besides to
demonstrate that, given a plenum, it is impossible for matter as it is commonly thought
of as formed solely out of the modifications of extension, or if you prefer, out of
passive mass, to suffice for filling the universe, but that it is obviously necessary to
assume something else in matter from which we may get a principle of change and
one by which to distinguish among phenomena; and hence we need some alteration,
and therefore some heterogeneity, in matter in addition to increase, diminution, and
motion. But I do not admit any generation or corruption in substance itself.
I turn now to your other letter. When I say that even if it is corporeal, a substance
contains an infinity of machines, I think it must be added at the same time that it
forms one machine composed of these machines and that it is actuated, besides, by
one entelechy, without which it would contain no principle of true unity. I think that
what has been said shows the evident necessity which forces us to admit entelechies.
Also, if we are to have real beings and substances, I do not see how we can avoid
true unities. Of course the arbitrary unities used in mathematics do not belong here,
for they can be applied just as well to apparent entities such as all beings by aggrega-
tion - a herd, an army - whose unity comes from thought. This is the same in every
aggregate; you will find no true unity if you take away the entelechy.
Properly and exactly speaking, perhaps we should not say that the primitive en-
telechy impels the mass of its own body but that it is merely combined with a passive
primitive power which it completes, or with which it constitutes a monad. Nor can
it influence [in/luo in] the other entelechies or substances which exist in the same mass.
But in phenomena, or in the resulting aggregate, everything is explained mechanically,
and so masses are understood to impel each other. In these phenomena it is necessary
to consider only derivative forces, once it is established whence these forces arise,
namely, the phenomena of aggregates from the reality of the monads.
In my opinion there never arises a natural organic mechanism that is new, because
it always possesses infinite organs, so that it may express the whole universe in its

way; indeed, it always involves all past and present time. This is the most certain nature
of every substance. And we know that what is expressed in the soul is also expressed
in the body; hence the soul as well as the machine animated by it, and the animal itself,
are as indestructible as the very universe. It is for this reason that such a machine
cannot be put together, any more than it can be destroyed, by any mechanical process.
Nor can any primitive entelechy ever come into being or be extinguished naturally or
ever lack an organic body. So far as my study of things carries me, at least, this cannot
be otherwise, and my opinions on this score are not derived from our ignorance about
the formation of the fetus but from higher principles.
I regard substance itself, being endowed with primary active and passive power,
as an indivisible or perfect monad - like the ego, or something similar to it - but I
do not so regard the derivative forces, which are found to be changing continuously.
But if there were no true one, then every true being would be eliminated. The forces
which arise from mass and velocity are derivative and belong to aggregates or phe-
nomena. When I speak of a primitive force as enduring, I do not mean the conservation
of the total motive power, which we discussed together earlier, but an entelechy
which always expresses this total force as well as other things. Derivative forces are
in fact nothing but the modifications and echoes of primitive forces.
So you see, esteemed Sir, that corporeal substances cannot be constituted solely
out of derivative forces combined with their resistance, that is, out of vanishing modi-
fications. Every modification presupposes something permanent. Therefore when you
say, "Let us assume that there is nothing in bodies but derivative forces", I reply that
such a hypothesis is impossible and that it again gives rise to the error of taking
incomplete notions for the completely determined concepts of things.
I do not admit any action of substances upon each other in the proper sense, since
no reason can be found for one monad influencing another. But in appearances
composed of aggregates, which are certainly nothing but phenomena (though well
founded and regulated), no one will deny collision and impact. Meanwhile I discover
that it is further true in phenomena and derivative forces that masses do not so much
give new force to other masses as they give determinate direction to the force already
existing in them, so that one body is repelled away from another by its own force
rather than being propelled by the other.
Entelechies must necessarily differ or not be completely similar to each other; in
fact, they are principles of diversity, for they each express the universe from their
own point of view. This is their office, that they should be so many living mirrors or
so many concentrated worlds. Yet we rightly say that the souls of like-named animals,
such as human souls, belong to the same species not in the mathematical but in the
physical sense in which father and son are agreed to be of the same species.
If you think of mass as an aggregate containing many substances, you can still
conceive of a single pre-eminent substance or primary entelechy in it. For the rest, I
arrange in the monad or the simple substance, complete with an entelechy, only one
primitive passive force which is related to the whole mass of the organic body. The
other subordinate monads placed in the organs do not make up a part of it, though
they are immediately required by it, and they combine with the primary monad to
make the organic corporeal substance, or the animal or plant. I therefore distinguish:
(1) the primitive entelechy or soul; (2) primary matter or primitive passive power;
(3) the complete monad formed by these two; (4) mass or secondary matter, or the
organic machine in which innumerable subordinate monads concur; and (5) the
animal or corporeal substance which the dominating monad makes into one ma-
chine.
You doubt whether a single simple thing is subject to changes. But since only simple
things are true things, and the rest are beings by aggregation and therefore phenomena,
existing, as Democritus put it, by convention but not by nature [VOJlQ> not "'va8/], it
is obvious that unless there is change in the simple things, there will be no change in
things at all. Nor must every change be from without; on the contrary, an internal
tendency to change is essential to finite substance, and no change can arise naturally
in the monads in any other way. But in phenomena or aggregates every new change
arises from an impact according to laws prescribed partly by metaphysics, partly by
geometry; for abstractions are necessary for the scientific explanation of things.
Hence we regard the individual parts within a mass as incomplete, and each as con-
tributing its part, but completed only by the combination of all. So any body whatever,
taken by itself, is understood to strive in the direction of a tangent, though its con-
tinuous motion in a curve may follow from the impressions of other bodies. But in a
proper substance which is complete in itself and involves everything together, the
construction of this curved line is itself contained and expressed, because everything
future is predetermined in the present state of the substance. For there is as great a
difference between substance and mass as there is between complete things as they are
in themselves and incomplete things as we accept them through abstraction. It is by
means of this abstraction that we can define in phenomena the role to be ascribed to
each part of mass and can distinguish and explain the whole phenomenon rationally -
a thing which necessarily requires abstractions.
You seem to have rightly grasped my doctrine of how every body whatever expresses
all other things, and how every soul or entelechy whatever expresses its own body and
through it all other things. But when you have uncovered the full force of this doctrine,
you will find that I have said nothing else which does not follow from it.
I had said that extension is the order of possible coexistents and that time is the
order of possible inconsistents. If this is so, you say you wonder how time enters into
all things, spiritual as well as corporeal, while extension enters only into corporeal
things. I reply that the relations are the same in the one case as in the other, for
every change, spiritual as well as material, has its own place [sedes], so to speak, in the
order of time, as well as its own location in the order of coexistents, or in space.
For although monads are not extended, they nevertheless have a certain kind of
situation [situs] in extension, that is, they have a certain ordered relation of coexistence
with others, namely, through the machine which they control. I do not think that any
finite substances exist apart from a body and that they therefore lack a position or an
order in relation to the other things coexisting in the universe. 2o Extended things
involve a plurality of things endowed with position, but things which are simple,
though they do not have extension, must yet have a position in extension, though it
is impossible to designate these positions precisely as in the case of incomplete phe-
nomena.
VII
[The letters which follow are largely repetitive of the points already made, but the sections
here translated excel in the clarity and sharpness of Leibniz's statements.]

[G., II, 257-59]
Hanover, November 10, 1703

... You seem to desire a cause from me where you yourself do not yet admit the
effect. So we must first agree upon the 'that' [t'o Ot'I], that is, upon the question of fact,
whether every substance, at least everyone known to us, can be considered as active.
And this is a question which can be answered from phenomena.
You are of the opinion that the resistance in a substance can accomplish nothing
more than that the substance opposes its own active power. But this should not
seem strange to you, since it happens even in quasi-substances or bodies that their
mass limits the velocity which another body strives to impress upon them. But in
things that are limited we need a principle of limitation, just as we need a principle of
action in acting things. -
The intrinsic difference between bodies you attribute not so much to the things
themselves as to my hypothesis. But I had added a demonstration taken from phe-
nomena - to the effect that if this difference did not exist, one state of matter in a
plenum could not be distinguished from another, for equivalents could always be
substituted for each other. This applies chiefly to the Cartesians, who do not recognize
qualities or forces in matter but only translation, as if God placed a body first in one
position and then in another and then gave the mind arbitrary sensations which do
not correspond to the properties of the body. It also applies especially to Malebranche,
Sturm, and other occasionalists, who ascribe all force or active power to God alone,
so that there is no principle of distinction in corporeal things themselves. You therefore
disagree with both ofthese positions and agree with me in accepting derivative forces,
hoping that in this way the diversities in phenomena can be explained. But then you
should do justice to my other argument - that derivative or accidental forces are mere
modifications and that an active thing cannot be the modification of something passive.
since a modification is merely a varying limitation, and modes merely limit things but do
not increase them and hence cannot contain any absolute perfection which is not in
the thing itself which they modify. Otherwise, in fact, these accidents must be thought
of in the manner of substances, namely, as something which stands per se. So you
either must accept my opinion or take refuge in the misnomer [dU6yA.w0"0"ov] which
you suggest in the view that perhaps the whole universe is merely one substance. To
use the word "substance" in this sense is to twist it out of the sense others give it.
And I do not see any argument by which such a paradox could be made probable;
those offered by Benedict de Spinoza for such a view do not seem, if I am any judge,
to contain even the shadow of a proof. Besides, even setting aside this discussion of
the word 'substance', it is enough that you admit different subjects or things which
contain modes; with this admission the argument which I have given, that a mode
merely limits and does not augment its subject, is still valid. This makes it clear that
motion is inadequate without forces, and derivative forces are inadequate without
primary entelechies.
In order to refute what I said about an internal tendency to change being essential
to finite substance, you say, "Whatever follows from the nature of a thing is in that
thing in an invariant mode, at least as long as the same nature persists in the thing,
nor can it be taken away from it, since there is a necessary connection between it
and the nature of the thing." But from this it would follow that nothing is active by
nature, for action is always a change in the acting creature. I reply that we must
distinguish between properties which are perpetual and modifications which are
transitory. Whatever follows from the nature of a thing can either follow from it
permanently or temporarily, and if temporarily, either at once and immediately, that
is, in the present, or by the mediation of some prior modification, so that it is future.
There is an image of this in quasi-substances or bodies which have force or are placed
in motion. It follows from the nature of a body moving in a straight line at a given
velocity, if no extraneous force be assumed, that after a given time has elapsed it
will arrive at a given point on the straight line. Does this mean, therefore, that it
arrives at this point permanently? Grant me therefore in the primitive tendenCies
what it is necessary to recognize in the derivative. The case is like that of mathematical
laws of series, or the nature of curves, where the entire progression is sufficiently
contained in the beginning. Nature as a whole must be like this; otherwise it would be
absurd and unworthy of wisdom. Nor do I see even the appearance of a reason for
doubting it, except that we are frightened by the unusual. ...
VIII
[G., II, 262-65]
Brunswick, January 21,1704
... You speak as if you do not understand what I intend when I say that derivative
forces are mere modifications and that the active cannot be a modification of the
passive. Don't you understand, then, what is meant by modification, by active and
passive? Meanwhile, reading I know not what obscurities into the argument, you have
nibbled so cursorily at what I have written that you even ascribe to me what I did not
say or rather, the very opposite of what I did say. For you interpret me as denying
that derivative forces are active, since you say, "Therefore, I do not see why these
(derivative) forces are not active." But so far am I from denying that they are active
that I infer, from the very fact that they are active and yet modifications, that there
is something primary and active of which they are modifications.
You assert that motion, or the product of mass and velocity, constitutes the deriv-
ative forces. I, however, do not consider motion to be a derivative force but think
rather that motion, being change, follows from such force. Derivative force is itself
the present state when it tends toward or preinvolves a following state, as every present
is great with the future. But that which persists, insofar as it involves all cases,
contains primitive force, so that primitive force is the law of the series, as it were,
while derivative force is the determinate value which distinguishes some term in the
series.
I do not recall who preceded Spinoza in saying that there is one sub~tance in the
whole universe, so you will pardon my calling him to mind, especially since I used him
merely as an illustration.
If bodies are not substances insofar as they are this or that particular body, they are
not individual substances. This would be like saying that Peter is a substance only
insofar as he is a man or that species are substances but that individuals are not.
Besides, the totality of bodies will also not be an individual substance in this sense,
for what is this but the aggregate of all individual substances, unless you call in some-
thing else which is to persist - as the thinker of whom I spoke is compelled to do.

And this enduring something will be a substance only because it is also a monad.
In fact, he could have found an analogy of what he ascribed to the universe as a whole,
in each of its parts. Substances are not mere wholes which contain parts formally but
total things which contain their partials eminently. 21
If nothing is active by its own nature, there will be nothing active at all, for what
reason for activity can there be if not in the nature of a thing? Yet you add the restric-
tion that "a thing can be active by its own nature, if its action always maintains itself
in the same mode". But since every action contains change, we must have in it precisely
what you would seem to deny it, namely, a tendency toward internal change and a
temporal succession following from the nature of the thing.
You of course deny that "from the nature of a thing there follows that which belongs
to it merely temporarily". You prove this by the nature of a triangle, but you do not
distinguish between universal and particular natures. From universal natures there
follow eternal consequences; from particular natures also temporal ones, unless you
think that temporal things have no cause.
"I do not see", you say, "how any succession can follow from the nature of a thing,
viewed in itself." This is indeed impossible if we assume that this nature is not indivi-
dual. "Unless", you add, "the thing itself is a succession." But all individual things
are successions or are subject to succession, and so your view coincides with my own.
For me nothing is permanent in things except the law itself which involves a continuous
succession and which corresponds, in individual things, to that law which determines
the whole world.
Besides, you yourself recognize that in the case of quasi-substances, as 1 call them,
it follows from the nature of a moving body that if nothing prevents it, it will arrive
at a given point in a given time. You admit therefore that temporal things follow
from the nature of particular things. What your objection is, 1 do not see.
You say that in a series, such as one of numbers, nothing is thought of as successive.
What of it? I do not say that every series is a temporal succession but only that a
temporal succession is a series, which has in common with other series the property
that the law of the series shows where it must arrive in continuing its progress or in
other words, the order in which its terms will proceed when its beginning and the
law of its progression are given, whether that order is a priority of essence!'. only or
also one of time.
1 do not agree with your statement that "all of the terms in a series are contained
in it in a single invariant way". This takes place in a certain way only in a uniform
series, but there are series which contain maxima, minima, bend points, etc.
When you say that "God bestowed upon matter at the beginning of the world only
derivative forces", you are already tacitly assuming primitive forces in matter, because
we cannot' understand what matter would be except through monads, since it would
always be an aggregate or rather, the result of a plurality of phenomena, until we
arrived at these simple beings.
"Nothing", you say, "prevents substances of the same nature from acting upon
each other." But you know that philosophers have rather denied any action between
similar beings. And what is there that prevents substances which differ in nature from
acting upon each other? When you have explained this, you will see that your explana-
tion prevents all finite substances from influencing each other - not to mention the
fact that all substances are different in nature, and there are no two things in nature
which differ in number alone. When such a thing is conceived, it is by a fiction of the
mind which is ignorant of the difference or is concealing it, or abstracting from it.
There is only one case of one substance acting immediately upon another: the action,
namely, of infinite substance upon finite substances - an action which consists in
continuously producing or constituting them. For there must necessarily be a cause
why these finite substances exist and correspond with each other, and this must
necessarily arise from the infinite substance which is necessary per se. But if it is claimed
that substances do not remain the same but that different substances which follow
upon prior ones are always produced by God, this would be to quarrel about a word,
for there is no further principle in things by which such a controversy can be decided.
The succeeding substance will be considered the same as the preceding as long as the
same law of the series or of simple continuous transition persists, which makes us
believe in the same subject of change, or the monad. The fact that a certain law persists
which involves all of the future states of that which we conceive to be the same -
this is the very fact, I say, which constitutes the enduring substance.
And if anyone concedes to me that there is an infinity of percipients, in each of
whom there is a fixed law of the progression of phenomena, that the phenomena of
these different percipients correspond with each other, and that there is a common
reason for both their existence and their correspondence in the thing which we call
God, this is all that I claim in the matter, and all that I think can be claimed. All
other positions and issues, I believe, arise only from poorly analyzed notions, and I
shall be surprised if anyone shows that anything more can be added to these. If we
had always kept this in mind in our dispute, we should have avoided much wrangling.
You say, "Experience teaches us that changes take place, but our question was not
what experience teaches but what follows from the nature of things." But do you think
that I either could or should wish to prove anything in nature if change were not
presupposed? But you say, "No experience teaches us that changes arise from within
[ab intrinseco]." Nor have I urged this on the basis of experience.
"The modes of action in the mind", you say, "are too obscure." I thought they
were most clear; indeed, that they alone are clear and distinct. I thought you agreed
that at least something in the mind comes from within, or not from any other finite
substance, and hence I perhaps inferred that my opinion would be intelligible to
you. But you take this to mean that I have assumed as axiomatic that everything
in the mind is of such a nature. I admit that this is the view which I hold, but I do
not postulate it ....
IX
[G., II, 268-71]
Hanover, June 30, 1704
... You continue by saying, "Nevertheless (your argument) does not convince me
that a mathematical body has no reality, unless perhaps there is some ambiguity in
the word 'reality'. For I conceive of the innumerable properties of such a body with
the greatest evidence." To this I reply in two ways. First, it is a necessary inference
from my principles that a mathematical body is not real and second, the arguments
you urge, for saying that you conceive a body most clearly (as real), do not establish
its reality.
As for the first point, it follows from the very fact that a mathematical body cannot

be analyzed into primary constituents that it is also not real but something mental
and designates nothing but the possibility of parts, not something actual. A mathe-
maticalline, namely, is in this respect like arithmetical unity; in both cases the parts
are only possible and completely indefinite. A line is no more the aggregate of the
lines into which it can be cut than unity is the aggregate of the fractions into which it
can be split up. And, as in counting, the number is not a substance without the things
counted, so neither is a mathematical body or extension without active and passive
entities or motion. But in real things, that is, bodies, the parts are not indefinite -
as they are in space, which is a mental thing - but actually specified in a fixed way
according to the divisions and subdivisions which nature actually introduces through
the varieties of motion. And granted that these divisions proceed to infinity, they are
nonetheless all the results of fixed primary constituents or real unities, though infinite
in number. Accurately speaking, however. matter is not composed ofthese constitutive
unities but results from them, since matter or extended mass is nothing but a phe-
nomenon grounded in things, like the rainbow or the mock-sun, and all reality belongs
only to unities. Phenomena can therefore always be divided into lesser phenomena
which could be observed by other, more subtle, animals and we can never arrive
at smallest phenomena. 22 Substantial unities are not parts but foundations of phe-
nomena.
I come now to the ground of your objection, esteemed Sir. "I conceive with greatest
evidence", you say, "the innumerable properties of a mathematical body." I grant
this, in the same sense, that is, in which the properties of number and time are con-
ceived, concepts which are also only orders or relations pertaining to possibility and
to the eternal truths of the world, and are then further applicable to actual events.
But you add, "I conceive of a mathematical body as existing and inhering in nothing
else." This I do not admit, unless we also conceive of time as existing or inhering in
nothing. If you regard this mathematical body as space, it must be correlated with
time; if as extension, it must be correlated with duration. For space is nothing but the
order of existence of things possible at the same time, while time is the order of
existence of things possible successively. As a physical body is to space, so the status
or series of things is to time. The body and the series of things add to space and time,
motion or action and passion, and the principle of motion. 23 For as I have repeatedly
reminded you - though you seem to have neglected my reminders - extension is an ab-
straction from the extended and can no more be considered substance than can number
or a multitude, for it expresses nothing but a certain nonsuccessive (i.e., unlike duration)
but simultaneous diffusion or repetition of some particular nature, or what amounts to
the same thing, a multitude of things of this same nature which exist together with some
order between them; and it is this nature, I say, which is said to be extended or diffused.
The notion of extension is thus relative, or extension is the extension of something, just
as we say that a multitude or a duration is a multitude, or a duration, of something. But
this nature which is said to be diffused, repeated, and continued is that which con-
stitutes a physical body, and it can be found in no other principle but that of acting
and enduring, since no other principle is suggested to us by the phenomena. But of
what kind this action and passion are, I shall say later. So you see that once we begin
an analysis of concepts, we always arrive at last at the view which 1 am urging. It
is really not surprising that the Cartesians have failed to understand the nature of
corporeal substance and to arrive at true principles, since they consider extension as
something absolute, irresolvable, ineffable, or primitive. For trusting their sense

perceptions, and perhaps also seeking the applause of men, they were content to stop
where their sense perception stopped, even though they also boasted, elsewhere, that
they had distinguished sharply between the sensible and the intelligible realms.
"By forces", you say, "I have always meant something nonsubstantial but inhering
in substance." And rightly so, if you mean mutable forces. But when force is taken
to be the principle of action and passion, which is thus modified by derivative forces or
by what is momentary in action, you can understand enough from what I have said
that this is involved in the concept of extension itself, which is relative per se, and that
by your own analysis of corporeal substance, we must come to this conclusion. This
is even more clear, as was shown above, when we consider the analysis of aggregates
and of the phenomena in unities and reality.
You add, "I have always considered forces, viewed apart from the foundations
from which they spring, as being in the nature of an external denomination." I should
prefer to consider derivative forces in relation to their foundations, as a figure in
relation to extension, that is, as a modification. And you know from my calculus, in
which I have demonstrated the true measure of derivative forces a priori, that force
multiplied by the time through which it acts equals action and that force is therefore
the momentaneous factor in action but with a relation to the following state. I have
often said - and do not remember ever to have deviated from this position - that
unless there were some primary active principle in us, there could be no derivative
forces and actions in us, since everything accidental or changeable must be a modifica-
tion of something essential or perpetual and can contain nothing more positive than
that which it modifies, since every modification is only a limitation - a figure of that
which is varied and a derivative force of that which varies.
You continue, "This foundation which was to be in the thing may perhaps be the
same as what you call primitive forces, from which the derivative forces flow." I
believe that this is most true, and so it appears that we are agreed on this point.
You add, "But I perceive nothing of these - so feeble is the force of my understanding
- except that you assert that all the remaining mutations flow from them." But you
do yourself an injury through your excessive modesty, for you understand the matter
as far as its nature allows. Would you seek to sense things which can only be understood,
to see sounds, to hear colors? You do not in fact disagree with what I have asserted -
that mutations flow from them; do you regard it as nothing to know this?
It is important, however, also to consider that this principle of action is most intel-
ligible, because there is something in it analogous to what is in us, namely, perception
and appetite. For the nature ofthings is uniform, and our nature cannot differ infinitely
from the other simple substances of which the whole universe consists. Indeed, con-
sidering the matter carefully, it may be said that there is nothing in the world except
simple substances and, in them, perception and appetite. Matter and motion, however,
are not so much substances or things as they are the phenomena of percipient beings,
whose reality is located in the harmony of the percipient with himself (at different
times) and with other percipient beings.
When Descartes and others say that "there is one substance for all corporeal
beings", they mean one similar nature, and do not, I think, intend that all bodies
together make one substance. Surely the fact itself shows the world to be an aggregate,
like a herd or a machine.

I had said that temporal events follow from particular things. You say that you do
not object to this but that it remains to be explained how particulars differ from uni-
versals and why temporal events follow from the former and not from the latter. But
if I am not mistaken, an essential order of particulars corresponds to the definite
parts of time and space, and universals are abstracted from these particulars by the
mind.
Last of all, you add, "Particulars act upon each other and are thus subject to change
with respect to actions. How this can be explained by substances which do not act
upon each other is obscure to me." This seems to be aimed at my opinion about the
pre-established harmony between simple substances, which cannot act upon each
other. Yet they do produce a change in themselves, and it is necessary for this to
happen from your own point of view as well. For you acknowledged above that there
is an internal basis for forces or actions, and so we must recognize an internal principle
of change. And unless we do, there will be no natural principle of change at all and
therefore no natural change. For if the principle of change were external to all and
internal to none, there would be none at all, and we should have to turn back with
the occasionalists to God as the only agent. It is therefore truly internal to all simple
substances, since there is no reason why it should be in one rather than in another,
and it consists in the progress of the perceptions of each monad, the entire nature of
things containing nothing besides. You see how simple the matter becomes when we
have arrived at principles which are manifestly necessary and sufficient, so that it
seems not only superfluous but inconsistent and without explanation to add anything
further. To go beyond these principles and ask why there is perception and appetite
in simple substances is to inquire about something ultramundane, so to speak, and to
demand reasons of God why he has willed things to be such as we conceive them to be.
I have been compelled to be more verbose in my answers in order to begin the
reasoning by which I establish each point with a repetition of your own words. For
I have noted that earlier, when we wrote more freely, we almost forgot what had
gone before in the progression of the argument and sometimes turned in circles or
digressed to other matters, which is sometimes an unintentional sign of impatience.
For the rest, our esteemed common friend, John Bernoulli, has written that your
health is not of the best; he himself has scarcely recovered from a serious illness.
This is a great grief to me, who owe much to your thoughts and expect much fruitage
still from them. So I think that you have need of gaiety, activity, and in brief, a kind
of diet adapted to the body; such a diet is the true medicine for chronic illnesses and
irregularities, though we often neglect it when pulled away by custom and business.
x
[G., II, 281-83]
Hanover, January 19, 1706

..• You rightly despair of obtaining from me what I can give you no hope of receiving
and what I neither hope nor desire to find for myself. The Scholastics commonly
sought things which were not only ultramundane but utopian. The brilliant French
Jesuit, Tournemine, recently gave me an excellent example of this. He gave general
approval to my pre-established harmony, which seemed to him to supply a reason
for the agreement which we perceive between soul and body, but said that he still
desired one thing - to know the reason for the union between the two, which he held
to differ from their agreement. I replied that this metaphysical 'union' - I know not
what - which the School assumes in addition to their agreement is not a phenomenon
and that there is no concept and therefore no knowledge of it. So neither could I
think of a reason that might be given for it. 24
I fear that the force which is thought to be in extension or mass, yet outside of the
percipient beings and their perceptions, is of this nature. For there can be nothing
real in nature except simple substances and the aggregates resulting from them. But
in the simple substances themselves we know nothing besides perceptions or the
reasons for them. Whoever assumes more must give the marks by which the additional
natures are to be verified and explained. I consider it demonstrated - as I have written
several times, although I cannot yet order everything in such a way as to present the
demonstration conveniently to the eyes of others - that it is essential to substance
that its present state involves its future states and vice versa. And there is nowhere
else that force is to be found or a basis for the transition to new perceptions.
From the things I have said it is also obvious that in actual bodies there is only a
discrete quantity, that is, a multitude of monads or of simple substances, though in
any sensible aggregate or one corresponding to phenomena, this may be greater than
any given number. 25 But a continuous quantity is something ideal which pertains to
possibles and to actualities only insofar as they are possible. A continuum, that is,
involves indeterminate parts, while on the other hand, there is nothing indefinite in
actual things, in which every division is made that can be made. Actual things are
compounded as is a number out of unities, ideal things as is a number out of fractions;
the parts are actually in the real whole but not in the ideal whole. But we confuse
ideal with real substances when we seek for actual parts in the order of possibilities,
and indeterminate parts in the aggregate of actual things, and so entangle ourselves
in the labyrinth of the continuum and in contradictions that cannot be explained.
Meanwhile the knowledge of the continuous, that is, of possibilities, contains eternal
truths which are never violated by actual phenomena, since the difference is alway!}
less than any given assignable amount. And we do not have, nor ought we to hope
for, any other mark of reality in phenomena than that they correspond with each
other and with eternal truths as well ....
REFERENCES
1 An allusion to Horace Ep. i. 32. "One can advance to a certain point, even though nothing
further is possible."
2 It is noteworthy that in describing the extended, Leibniz chooses qualities on rising levels
of distinctness and therefore also of well-founded phenomena, beginning with indistinct sense
qualities (whiteness) and proceeding through quantitative properties (ductility and weight) to
resistance and corporeal force.
a See Descartes, Correspondence (ed. Adam and Tannery), II, 466,543,627. Compare Leibniz's
discussions of inertia in the fifth letter to Clarke, Sec. 102, and in the Theodicy, Part I, Sec. 30.
Leibniz does not use inertia, as Newton does in his first law of motion, as an absolute principle
of matter but as a quantitative variable which together with velocity determines the constant
amount of force in a material system. His physics is thus a phenomenal corroboration of his
metaphysics, where force has active and passive aspects.
4 Cf. the Discourse, No. 35, Sec. 21; also the Specimen dynamicum (No. 46, I).
5 The close of the letter contains another exposition of the argument against Descartes that
quantity of force rather than of motion is conserved.
6 This letter was not sent but is given here because it replies to De Voider's criticisms. The
one of the same date which replaced it returns to the physical and empirical problems of
substance.
7 Leibniz returns to this problem in his criticism of Malebranche (Conversation of Philarete
and Ariste [No. 64]), where he makes clear that the difference between duration and extension
on the one hand, and time and space, on the other, is a relational and practical one, the former
abstractions being applied internally to things, the latter externally, and serving the purpose of
measurement. But see also the letter of June 21, 1704, to De VoIder (lX, below) and the fifth
letter to Clarke.
8 See the first letter of the series. Malebranche expounds this doctrine of creation in the
Entretiens sur la metaphysique and the Recherche, Eclaircissement XV.
9 The discussion of a substantiating chain in the correspondence with Des Bosses (No. 63)
turns about the adequacy of this statement.
10 BC.'s German translation renders perfectio as 'reality'. We have not taken this liberty, but
the reader will do well to remember that for Leibniz and his correspondent the two are equiva-
lent, since primary concepts or essences are the perfections of God.
11 A complete term is thus a concrete one, and an incomplete term abstract. This restates
Leibniz's logical view that many real definitions are possible for an abstraction but that there
is only one adequate or ultimate analysis possible of a determinate concept.
12 In the light of his rejection of the Scholastic doctrine of influence (cf. p. 83, note 6),
Leibniz's use here of the verb influo is startling. The context makes clear, however, that he is
talking oflogical and functional dependence and not of efficient causality.
13 It follows therefore that for Leibniz, independent substances are related in a harmonious
complex and that relations are in this sense external to them (cf. New Essays, II, xxv, 10:
"There is no term so absolute or so detached that it does not include relations so that its
perfect analysis leads to other things and even to all other things"). It follows also that the
essence of an individual substance, or an individual concept, involves properties not reducible
to the properties of the concepts out of which it is compounded.
14 See No. 53. Leibniz has argued more fully in the Specimen dynamicum that individual
bodies cannot be distinguished except through motion, and hence through their inherent
force.
15 Leibniz uses the Epicurean term KOPla/ Meal. The doctrine of relations expounded in this
and the preceding letters (cf. note 13, above) is far from unambiguous. If, as he said earlier,
all substances are necessarily related yet independent, and if, as he says here, extrinsic relations
depend upon internal denominations or relational qualities, he must hold that relations are
necessary but not determinative of substance, while the relational qualities upon which the
relations depend are thus determinative.
16 A postscript shows that the letter was originally sent in the early winter of 1703 from Berlin
but that a copy was sent from Hanover on June 20,1703, after Bernoulli had reported that he
had not received the original, which he was to have forwarded to De VoIder.
17 This passage, significantly, identifies the logical and the psychological subject. 'Formally'
or metaphysically the 'I' is a functional law ; logically it is a subject which is identical with the
'concrete' totality of its predicates; psychologically it is the 'thinker', the self-conscious spirit
which involves the whole of its perceptions.
18 See Descartes's Principles of Philosophy, Part I, Arts. 60 and 61, and Leibniz's comments in
No. 42.
19 This distinction between material and abstract analysis, which is effective in theory but
never adequate, though always applicable, to nature, supports Leibniz's distinction between
truths of reason and of fact and between the connotative and denotative dimensions of truths
of fact. Existing entities are concrete or completely determined; mathematical and logical
entities are only partial.
20 Space is thus a phenomenon, but spatiality is a fundamental aspect of the functional
relationships between coexistent and simultaneous perceptions ofthe monads.
21 Leibniz's sudden shifts from mathematical to Scholastic terms (from the law of the series to
substances with formal and eminent properties) must not obscure the metaphysical truth here-
a creative order which determines its own acts and passive states is a unity which possesses
reality beyond these changing modes themselves; it is not merely, after the analogy of spatial
conceptions, the aggregate of its parts.
22 Here and elsewhere (cf. the letter to Varignon in No. 56) Leibniz has anticipated the critic-
isms of Berkeley and other empiricists who seek to limit analysis by minima sensibilia; for any
empirical problem in which we must pass over into causal analysis, analysis is an endless task.
23 That is, primitive force and its several modes, active and passive.
24 See 'Remarque de l'auteur du systeme de l'harmonie preetablie sur un endroit des Memoires
de Trevoux' (G., VI, 595). This appeared in the Memoires de Trevoux for March, 1708, in reply
to Toumemine's criticism in the same journal for March, 1704. Leibniz did, however, return
to the nature of the metaphysical union in bodies and discuss it extensively with Des Bosses
(cf. No. 63, and see also note 9 above).
25 Thus there is no empirical meaning for infinity as applied to discrete existing beings, but
only one of indefinite continuation. The continuum of mathematics, on the other hand, applies
only to the realm of possibility (cf. p. 514, note 1, and No. 56).
56
LETTER TO VARIGNON, WITH A NOTE ON THE

'JUSTIFICATION OF THE INFINITESIMAL
CALCULUS BY THAT OF ORDINARY ALGEBRA'
1702
The criticisms to which the new infinitesimal calculus was subjected during the last
decade of the 17th century were often grounded upon nothing more than a failure to
understand its value or a distrust of novelty. Thus Huygens himself, and the Abbe
Gallois, an editor of the Journal des savants, seem not at once to have grasped the
importance of the new instrument. With more veneration for Descartes than insight into
mathematics, the Abbe Catelan once more rushed into print. Among the criticisms,
however, was one aimed at an unclear foundation of the calculus itself, the uncertain
status and nature of the infinite and the infinitesimals which were used. In 1694 and
again in 1695 this issue was raised by Bernard Nieuwentift in two criticisms of the cal-
culus; later the criticism was developed more convincingly by Michel Rolle, an abler
mathematician. Among the defenders of the new methods were the Bernoulli brothers
(cf. No. 53); the Marquis de I'Hospital, whose Analyse des infiniment petits (1696)
was the first textbook in the field (cf. p. 420, note 8) ; Jacob Hermann (1678-1733);
and Pierre Varignon (1654-1722), who had already made contributions to statics and
was later to develop polar coordinates.
Varignon was engaged at the time of this letter in replying to Rolle's criticisms and
had asked Leibniz what he meant precisely by the infinitely small. The latter's reply
was published in the Journal des savants, March 20, 1702; it suggested several levels ofin-
terpretation upon which the user ofthe calculus might stand. The supplement (II) had been
sent to Pinson and Varignon sometime earlier and appeared in the Memoires de Trevoux,
January, 1701.
I. LETTER TO V ARIGNON
[GM., IV, 91-95]
Hanover, February 2, 1702
I am a little late in replying to the letter with which you honored me on November 29
of last yellr but which I did not receive until today. After Mr. Bernoulli sent it to me
from Groningen, it did not arrive in Berlin until after I had left to return to Hanover
with the Queen of Prussia, Her Majesty having been so gracious as to ask that I be
in her suite. This had delayed my return.
I am greatly obliged to you, Sir, and to your learned men who have done me the
honor of reflecting upon what I wrote to one of my friends in reply to the criticisms
against the calculus of differences and sums which were published in the Journal de
Trevoux. I do not recall exactly what expressions I may have used, but my intention
was to point out that it is unnecessary to make mathematical analysis depend on
HANOVER UNDER GEORGE LOUIS. 1698-1716 543
metaphysical controversies or to make sure that there are lines in nature which are
infinitely small in a rigorous sense in contrast to our ordinary lines. or 'as a result,
that there are lines infinitely greater than our ordinary ones (yet with ends; this is
important inasmuch as it has seemed to me that the infinite. taken in a rigorous sense,
must have its source in the unterminated; otherwise I see no way of finding an adequate
ground for distinguishing it from the finite).l This is why I believed that in order to
avoid subtleties and to make my reasoning clear to everyone. it would suffice here to
explain the infinite through the incomparable. that is, to think of quantities incom-
parably greater or smaller than ours. This would provide as many degrees of incom-
parability as we may wish. since that which is incomparably much smaller has no
value whatever in relation to the calculation of values which are incomparably greater
than it. It is in this sense that a bit of magnetic matter which passes through glass is
not comparable to a grain of sand, or this grain of sand to the terrestrial globe, or
the globe to the firmament. It was to make this point that I once submitted some lem-
mas on incomparables to the Leipzig Acts. which could be understood as applicable
either to infinites in the rigorous sense or merely to magnitudes which do not need to
be considered in relation to others.
But at the same time we must consider that these incomparable magnitudes them-
selves. as commonly understood. are not at all fixed or determined but can be taken
to be as small as we wish in our geometrical reasoning and so have the effect of the
infinitely small in the rigorous sense. If any opponent tries to contradict this proposi-
tion, it follows from our calculus that the error will be less than any possible assignable
error, since it is in our power to make this incomparably small magnitude small
enough for this purpose, inasmuch as we can always take a magnitude as small as
we wish. Perhaps this is what you mean. Sir. when you speak of the inexhaustible, and
the rigorous demonstration of the infinitesimal calculus which we use undoubtedly is
to be found here. 2 It has the advantage of giving such a proof visibly and directly and
in a way well fitted to reveal the source of the invention, while the ancients, like
Archimedes. gave it indirectly in the form of their reductions to the absurd; but they
were unable to arrive at complicated truths or solutions in default of such a calculus,
though they possessed the foundation of the invention. It follows from this that even
if someone refuses to admit infinite and infinitesimal lines in a rigorous metaphysical
sense and as real things, he can still use them with confidence as ideal concepts which
shorten his reasoning, similar to what we call imaginary roots in the ordinary algebra,
for example, v'-2. Even though these are called imaginary, they continue to be useful
and even necessary in expressing real magnitudes analytically. For example, it is
impossible to express the analytic value of a straight line necessary to trisect a given
angle without the aid of imaginaries. Just so it is impossible to establish our calculus
of transcendent curves without using differences which are on the point of vanishing,
and at last taking the incomparably small in place of the quantity to which we can
assign smaller values to infinity. In the same way we can also conceive of dimensions
beyond three. and even of powers whose exponents are not ordinary numbers - all
in order to establish ideas fitting to shorten our reasoning and founded on realities.
Yet we must not imagine that this explanation debases the science of the infinite
and reduces it to fictions, for there always remains a 'syncategorematic' infinite. as the
Scholastics say.3 And it remains true, for example. that 2=~+~+~+~+ 116 + 312 + ...•

which is an infinite series containing all the fractions whose numerators are 1 and whose
denominators are a geometric progression of powers of 2, although only ordinary
numbers are used, and no infinitely small fraction, or one whose denominator is an in-
finite number, ever occurs in it. Furthermore, imaginary roots likewise have a real
foundation [fundamentum in re]. So when I told the late Mr. Huygens that.J 1 + v -3
-.J 1 - v - 3 = V6, he found this so remarkable that he replied that there is something
incomprehensible to us in the matter. So it can also be said that infinites and in-
finitesimals are grounded in such a way that everything in geometry, and even in
nature, takes place as if they were perfect realities. Witness not only our geometrical
analysis of transcendental curves but also my law of continuity, by virtue of which ,
we may consider rest as infinitely small motion (that is, as equivalent to a particular
instance of its own contradictory), coincidence as infinitely small distance, equality
as the limit of inequalities, etc. This law I once explained and applied in Mr. Bayle's
Nouvelles de la republique des lettres and applied to the rules of motion of Descartes
and Father Malebranche. I have since observed, by the second edition of the latter's
rules which has since appeared, that the entire force of this principle is not yet under-
stood. 4
Yet one can say in general that though continuity is something ideal and there is
never anything in nature with perfectly uniform parts, the real, in turn, never ceases
to be governed perfectly by the ideal and the abstract and that the rules of the finite
are found to succeed in the infinite - as if there were atoms, that is, elements of an
assignable size in nature, although there are none because matter is actually divisible
without limit. And conversely the rules of the infinite apply to the finite, as if there
were infinitely small metaphysical beings, although we have no need of them, and
the division of matter never does proceed to infinitely small particles. This is because
everything is governed by reason; otherwise there could be no science and no rule,
and thIs would not at all conform with the nature of the sovereign principle.
For the rest, when my reading of the Journal de Trevoux brought me to write
about the attacks made there against the differential calculus, I assert that I was not
thinking of the controversy which you, or rather those who use the calculus, are
having with Mr. Rolle. It is only since your last letter, too, that I learned that the
Abbe Gallois, whom I always honor greatly, has taken part. Perhaps his opposition
comes only from his belief that we have founded the demonstration of this calculus
on metaphysical paradoxes which I myself believe we can well discard .... I even find
that it means much in establishing sound foundations for a science that it should
have such critics. It is thus that the skeptics, with as much reason, fought the principles
of geometry; that Father Gottignies, a Jesuit scholar, tried to throw out the best
foundatioI1s of algebra; and that Mr. Cluver and Mr. Nieuwentijt have recently
attacked our infinitesimal calculus, though on different grounds. Geometry and
algebra have survived, and I hope that our science of infinites will survive also. But
it will always owe you a great debt for the light which you have shed upon it. I have
often thought that a reply by a geometrician to the objections of Sextus Empiricus
and to the things which Francis Sanchez 5, author of the book Quod nihil scitur, sent
to Clavi us, or to similar critics, would be something more useful than we can imagine.
This is why we have no reason to regret the pains which are necessary to justify our
analysis for all kinds of minds capable of understanding it ....
II. JUSTIFICATION OF THE INFINITESIMAL CALCULUS

BY THAT OF ORDINARY ALGEBRA
[GM., IV, 104-6]
Let two straight lines AX and EY meet at C, and from points E and Y drop EA and
YX perpendicular to the straight line AX. CaU AC, c and AE, e; AX, x and XY, y
(Figure 36). Then since triangles CAE and CXYare similar, it follows that (x-c)/
\ c\
:c \
1 \
I \
I \
x<"I
"
'\
\
I \
I \
I \
I \
,
I
I
I
\
\ ---L--"-_--\
X y
Fig. 36.
y=c/e. Consequently, if the straight line EY more and more approaches the point A,
always preserving the same angle at the variable point C, the straight lines c and e
will obviously diminish steadily, yet the ratio of c to e will remain constant. Here we
assume that this ratio is other than 1 and that the given angle is other than 45°,
Now assume the case when the straight line EYpasses through A itself; it is obvious
that the points C and E will fall on A, that the straight lines AC and AE, or c and e,
will vanish, and that the proportion or equation (x - c)/y=c/e will become x/y=c/e.
Then in the present case, assuming that it faUs under the general rule, x - c =x. Yet
c and e will not be absolutely nothing, since they still preserve the ratio of CX to XY,
or the ratio between the entire radius and the tangent of the angle at C 6 , the angle
which we assumed to remain always the same as EYapproached the point A. For if
c and e were nothing in an absolute sense in this calculation, in the case when the
points C, E, and A coincide, c and e would be equal, since one zero equals another,
and the equation or proportion x/y=c/e would become x/y=O/O=I; that is, x=y,
which is an absurdity, since we assumed that the angle is not 45°. Hence c and e are
not taken for zeros in this algebraic calculus, except comparatively in relation to
x and y; but c and e still have an algebraic relation to each other. And so they are
treated as infinitesimals, exactly as are the elements which our differential calculus
recognizes in the ordinates of curves for momentary increments and decrements.
Thus we find in the calculations of ordinary algebra traces of the transcendent dif-

ferential calculus and the same peculiarities about which some scholars have scruples.
Even algebraic calculation cannot avoid them if it wishes to preserve its advantages,
one of the most important of which is the universality which enables it to include all
cases, even that where certain given lines disappear. It would be ridiculous not to
accept this and so to deprive ourselves of one of its greatest uses. All capable analysts
in ordinary algebra have made use of this universality in order to make their calcula-
tions and constructions general. And when this advantage is applied to physics as
well, particularly to the laws of motion, it reduces in part to what I call the law of
continuity, which has long served me as a principle of discovery in physics and also
as a convenient test to see if certain proposed rules are good. Some years ago I pub-
lished an example of this in the Nouvelles de la repub/ique des lettres, in which I take
equality as a particular case of inequality, rest as a special case of motion, parallelism
as a case of convergence, etc., assuming not that the difference of magnitudes which
become equal is already zero but that it is in the act of vanishing; and similarly in
the case of motion, not that it is already zero in an absolute sense but that it is on the
point of becoming zero. And anyone who is not satisfied with this can be shown in
the manner of Archimedes that the error is less than any assignable quantity and cannot
be given by any construction. It is in this way that a mathematician, and a very capable
one besides, was answered when he criticized the quadrature of the parabola on the
basis of scruples similar to those now opposed to our calculus. For he was asked
whether he could, by means of any construction, designate any magnitude that would
be smaller than the difference he claimed existed between the area of the parabola given
by Archimedes and its true area, as can always be done when the quadrature is false.
Although it is not at all rigorously true that rest is a kind of motion or that equality
is a kind of inequality, any more than it is true that a circle is a kind of regular polygon,
it can be said, nevertheless, that rest, equality, and the circle terminate the motions,
the inequalities, and the regular polygons which arrive at them by a continuous
change and vanish in them. And although these terminations are excluded, that is,
are not included in any rigorous sense in the variables which they limit, they never-
theless have the same properties as if they were included in the series, in accordance
with the language of infinites and infinitesimals, which takes the circle, for example,
as a regular polygon with an infinite number of sides. Otherwise the law of continuity
would be violated, namely, that since we can move from polygons to a circle by a
continuous change and without making a leap, it is also necessary not to make a
leap in passing from the properties of polygons to those of a circle.
REFERENCES
1 The section enclosed in parentheses was to be omitted in the letter as sent.
a If Leibniz had more clearly combined his conception of the infinitesimal as a quantity to be
taken at will as less than any assignable quantity whatever with his own analysis of series and
his functional conception of the law of continuity, he should have been led to the critical
concept of limits upon which the calculus was at last theoretically grounded in the nineteenth
century by Weierstrass and Cauchy.
8 I.e., a 'potential infinite'; see also the letters to John Bernoulli (No. 54) and p. 514, note 1.
4 See No. 37.
5 OM. has Suarez.
• That is, assuming the angle at e to be at the center of a unit circle with radius ex.
57
ON WHAT IS INDEPENDENT OF SENSE AND OF MATTER

(Letter to Queen Sophia Charlotte of Prussia, 1702)
This and the following two selections (Nos. 58 and 59) show Leibniz's ability to popu-
larize his ideas. The first two were certainly written at the instigation of his pupil, the
Queen of Prussia, and the third, on ethics and law, belongs by style at least to the same
group.
This letter of Leibniz's was probably in reply to one by John Toland, who had visited
the courts of Hanover and Berlin and had there had opportunity to expound his own
empiricism and materialism. In any case, Sophia Charlotte submitted a letter of Toland's
to Leibniz for criticism, and a rather short and unsatisfactory correspondence between
the two men followed. Leibniz's paper is at certain points clearly aimed at Toland and
probably also at Locke, whose Essay he was engaged in criticizing, but who avoided
being drawn into correspondence.
[0., VI, 499-508]
I found the letter truly ingenious and beautiful which was sent some time ago from
Paris to Osnabrtick, and which I recently read by your order at Hanover. Since it
deals with two important questions on which I admit I do not entirely share the
opinion of its author - whether there is something in our thoughts which does not
come from sense and whether there is something in nature which is not material -
I wish I were able to explain myself with the same charm as his, in order to obey
Your Majesty's orders and satisfy Your Majesty's curiosity.
To use the analogy of an ancient writer, we use the external senses as a blind man
uses his stick, and they help us to know their particular objects, which are colors,
sounds, odors, tastes, and tactual qualities. But they do not help us to know what these
sensible qualities are or in what they consist. For example, if red is the whirling of
certain small globes which, it is claimed, make light; if heat is an eddy of very fine
dust; if sound is made in the air as are circles in the water when a stone is thrown in,
as some philosophers hold, we at least do not see this, and we cannot even understand
how this whirling, these eddies and circles, if they are real, should bring about just
the particular perceptions which we have of red, of heat, and of noise. So it can be
said that sensible qualities are in fact occult qualities and that there must be others
more manifest which could render them understandable. Far from understanding
sensible things only, it is just these which we understand the least. And even though
we are familiar with them, we do not understand them the better for that, just as a
pilot does not understand the nature of the magnetic needle, which turns to the north,
better than other men, although he has it constantly before his eyes in the compass,
and as a result scarcely even has any more curiosity about it.
I do not deny that many discoveries have been made about the nature of these

occult qualities. So, for example, we know what kind of refraction produces blue and
yellow and how these two colors mixed produce green. But we still cannot understand
as a result how the perception we have of these three colors follows from these causes.
Also, we do not have even nominal definitions of such qualities, in order to explain
the terms. The purpose of nominal definitions is to give marks sufficient to aid in
recognizing things. For example, assayers have marks by which they distinguish gold
from all other metals, and even if a man has never even seen gold, these marks could
be taught him so that he could recognize it unmistakably should he some day en-
counter it. But this is not the case with these sensible qualities; no mark for recognizing
blue, for example, can be given to one who has never seen it. Thus blue is itself its
own mark, and in order that a man may know what blue is, one must of necessity
show it to him.
For this reason it is usually said that the concepts of these qualities are clear, since
they serve us in recognizing them, but that these same concepts are not distinct,
because we cannot distinguish or develop the content included in them. It is an 'I
know not what' which we perceive but for which we cannot account. On the other
hand, we can make someone else understand what a thing is if we have some kind of
description or nominal definition, even though we do not have the thing at hand to
show him. We must do justice to the senses, however, by recognizing that besides
these occult qualities, they enable us to know other qualities which are more manifest
and furnish more distinct concepts. It is these which are ascribed to the common sense,
because there is no external sense to which they are particularly attached and belong. 1
It is of these that definitions of the terms or words we use can be given. Such is the
idea of numbers, which is found alike in sounds, colors, and the qualities of touch.
It is thus, too, that we perceive the figures which are common to colors and to qualities
of touch but which we do not observe in sounds. But it is true that in order to con-
ceive numbers and even shapes distinctly and to build sciences from them, we must
reach something which sense cannot furnish but which the understanding adds to it. 2
Since therefore our soul compares the numbers and the shapes of colors, for example,
with the numbers and shapes discovered by touch, there must be an internal sense
where the perceptions of these different external senses are found united. This is called
the imagination, which comprises at once the concepts 0/ particular senses, which are
clear but con/used, and the concepts 0/ the common sense, which are clear and distinct. 3
And these clear and distinct ideas which are subject to the imagination are the objects
of the mathematical sciences, namely, arithmetic and geometry, which are the pure
mathematical sciences, and their applications to nature, which make up mixed math-
ematics. It is seen also that particular sense qualities are capable of explanation and
rationalization only insofar as they have a content common to the objects of several
external senses and belong to the internal sense. For whenever one tries to explain
sensible qualities distinctly, one always turns back to mathematical ideas, and these
ideas always include magnitude, or multitude of parts. It is true that the mathematical
sciences would not be demonstrative but would consist of a simple induction or
observation which could never assure us of the perfect generality of the truths found
in it, if something higher, which only the intellect can provide, did not come to the
aid of imagination and sense.
There are thus also objects of another nature, which are not at all included in what
we have observed in the objects of either the particular senses or the common sense,
and which consequently are also not to be considered objects of the imagination.
Besides what is sensible and imaginable, therefore, there is that which is only intelligible,
since it is the object of the understanding alone. And such is the object of my thought
when I think of myself.
This thought of myself. who perceive sensible objects, and of my own action which
results from it, adds something to the objects of sense. To think of some color and to
consider that I think of it - these two thoughts are very different, just as much as
color itself differs from the ego who thinks of it. And since I conceive that there are
other beings who also have the right to say 'I', or for whom this can be said, it is by
this that I conceive what is called substance in general. It is the consideration of
myself, also, which provides me with other concepts in metaphysics, such as those of
cause, effect, action, similarity, etc., and even with those of logic and ethics. Thus it
may be said that there is nothing in the understanding which has not come from the
senses, except the understanding itself, or the one who understands.
There are thus three levels of concepts: those which are sensible only, which are
the objects produced by each sense in particular; those which are at once sensible and
intelligible, which appertain to the common sense; and those which are intelligible only,
which belong to the understanding. The first and second together are imaginable,
but the third lie beyond the imagination. The second and third are intelligible and
distinct, but the first are confused, although they may be clear and recognizable. 4
Being itself and truth are not understood completely through the senses. For it
would not at all be impossible for a created being to have long and orderly dreams
which resemble our lives, such that everything that it thought it perceived through
the senses would be nothing but mere appearances. Something is thus needed beyond
the senses, by which to distinguish the true from the apparent. But the truth of the
demonstrative sciences is free 5 of such doubts and must even serve to judge the truth
of sensible things. For as able ancient and modern philosophers have already well
said, even if all that I think I see were only a dream, it would always be true that I
who am thinking in my dream would be something and that I should in fact think in
many ways for which there must always be a reason.
What the ancient Platonists have said is thus quite true and quite worthy of con-
sideration - that the existence of intelligible things, particularly of the I who think
and am called a mind or soul, is incomparably more certain than the existence of
sensible things and that it would thus not be impossible, speaking with metaphysical
rigor, that there should exist at bottom only intelligible substances, of which sensible
things would be only the appearances. Instead, our lack of attention causes us to take
sensible things for the only true ones. It is also well to observe that if! should discover
some demonstrative truth, mathematical or other, in a dream (and this can in fact
be done), it would be just as certain as if I were awake. This shows us that intelligible
truth is independent of the truth or existence of sensible and material things outside
of us.
This conception of being and of truth is thus found in the ego and in the under-
standing rather than in the external senses and the perception of exterior objects.
In the understanding we discover also what it means to affirm, deny, doubt, will,
and act. But above all, we find there the force of the conclusions in reasoning, which
are a part of what is called the natural light. For example, by reversing the terms, one
can draw from the premise that no wise man is vicious the conclusion that no vicious

man is wise. On the other hand, from the premise that every wise man is praiseworthy,
one cannot conclude by reversing terms that every praiseworthy man is wise, but only
that some praiseworthy men are wise. Although one can always convert particular
affirmative propositions, this is impossible with particular negatives. For example, if
some wise men are rich, it is necessary also that some rich men are wise. Yet one can
say that there are charitable beings who are not just, for this happens when charity
is not regular enough, but one cannot infer from this that there are just beings who are
not charitable, for charity and the rule of reason are at once included in justice.
It is by this natural light that one may recognize also the axioms of mathematics; for
example, that if the same quantity is taken away from two equals the remainders are
equal and likewise that if both sides of a balance are equal neither will sink, a fact
which we can foresee without ever having tried it. It is upon such foundations that
arithmetic, geometry, mechanics, and the other demonstrative sciences are established,
in which it is true that the senses are necessary to have definite ideas of sensible things,
and experience is necessary to establish certain facts and even useful in verifying the
reasoning involved, by a kind of check, as it were. But the force of the demonstrations
depends upon intelligible concepts and truths, for it is these alone which enable us
to draw conclusions which are necessary; they even make it possible for us, in the
conjectural sciences, to determine demonstratively the degree of probability in certain
given assumptions, so that we may choose reasonably, among conflicting appearances,
that one whose probability is the greater. But this part of the art of reasoning has not
yet been cultivated as much as it ought to be.
To return to necessary truths, however, it is universally true that we know them
only by this natural light and not at all by sense experiences. For the senses can indeed
help us after a fashion to know what is, but they cannot help us to know what must
be or what cannot be otherwise.
For example, although we have countless times tested the fact that every heavy
body falls toward the center of the earth, and is not sustained freely in the air, we are
not sure that this is necessary until we have grasped the reason for it. Thus we cannot
be sure that the same thing would happen in an altitude a hundred leagues or more
higher than we are. There are philosophers who represent the earth as a magnet whose
attractive force does not, they think, extend very, far, any more than the ordinary
magnet attracts a needle some distance away from it. I am not saying that they are
right but only that we cannot proceed with much certainty beyond the experiences
which we have had, unless we are aided by reason.
It is for this reason that the geometricians have always held that what has only been
proved by induction or by examples, in geometry or arithmetic, has never been per-
fectly proved. For example, experience teaches us that the odd numbers when added
together continuously in their order produce the square numbers in order, that is, the
numbers produced by multiplying a number by itself. Thus 1 and 3 make 4, that is,
22; and 1 and 3 and 5 make 9, that is, 32 ; and 1 and 3 and 5 and 7 make 16, or 42
and 1 and 3 and 5 and 7 and 9 make 25, or 52; and so forth.
However, if one had tried this a hundred thousand times, extending the calculation
very far, one might well judge it reasonable that this will always be true, but one
could never be absolutely certain of it as long as he does not grasp the demonstrative
reason for it which mathematicians long ago discovered. It is on the basis of this
uncertainty of induction, pushed a little too far, that an Englishman has recently tried
to argue that we can avoid death. For, says he, the following conclusion is not sound:
my father, my grandfather, my great-grandfather have died, and so have all the rest
whom we know to have lived before us; therefore we too will die. For their death
has no influence upon us. The trouble with this argument is that we resemble them a
little too much, in that the causes of their death subsist in us as well. For the similarity
between us would itself not be sufficient to draw conclusions of complete certainty,
without considering the same reasons.
There are in fact experiments which succeed countless times in ordinary circum-
stances, yet instances are found in some extraordinary cases in which the experiment
does not succeed. FOf,example, if we have shown a hundred thousand times that iron
sinks to the bottom when placed in water, we are still not sure that this must always
happen. Without appealing to the miracle of the prophet Elisha, who made iron float,
we know that an iron pot can be made so hollow that it floats and can even carry a
considerable load besides, as do boats made of copper and of tinplate. Even the
abstract sciences like geometry provide cases in which what ordinarily happens does
not happen. Ordinarily, for example, we find that two lines which approach each
other continuously finally meet, and many people would be quick to swear that it
could never happen otherwise. Yet 'geometry does furnish exceptional lines called
asymptotes for this reason, that when extended to infinity they approach each other
continuously, yet never meet.
This consideration also shows that there is a light which is born with us. For since
the senses and induction can never teach us truths that are fully universal or absolutely
necessary, but only what is and what is found in particular examples, and since we
nonetheless know the universal and necessary truths of the sciences - in this we are
privileged above the beasts - it follows that we have drawn these truths in part from
what is within us. Thus one can lead a child to them by simple questions in the So-
cratic manner, without telling him anything, and without having him experiment at
all about the truth of that which is asked him. This could most easily be carried out
in numbers and similar matters.
I agree, however, that in our present state the external senses are necessary for
our thinking and that if we had none, we would not think. But what is necessary for
something need not therefore make up its essence. The air is necessary for our life,
but our life is (Iifferent from air. The senses furnish us with the matter for reasoning,
and we never have thoughts so abstract that something is not mixed with them from
sense. But reasoning demands something more than what is sensible.
As for the second question, whether there are immaterial substances, one must first
explain it in order to answer it. Heretofore matter has been understood to mean that
which includes only purely passive and indifferent concepts, such as extension and
impenetrability, which need to be given determinate form or activity by something
else. Thus when it is said that there are immaterial substances, one means by this that
there are substances which include other concepts, namely, perception and the prin-
ciple of action or of change, which cannot be explained either by extension or by
impenetrability. When these beings have feeling, they are called souls, and when they
are capable of reason, they are called spirits. Hence if anyone says that force and
perception are essential to matter, he is taking matter for the complete corporeal
substance which includes form and matter, or the soul along with the organs. This
is the same as if he had said that there are souls everywhere. This could be true, yet
For re/eren ces see p. 553

not at all contrary to the doctrine of immaterial substances. For this does not require
these souls to be free from matter but only to be something more than matter and not
produced or destroyed by the change which matter undergoes or subject to dissolution,
since they are not composed of parts.
It must also be admitted, however, that there is some substance separate from matter.
To make this clear, we need only to consider that there is an infinity of possible orders
which the totality of matter might have received in place of this particular sequence of
changes which it has actually taken on. For it is clear, for example, that the stars could
have moved quite differently, since space and time are indifferent to every kind of
motion and figure. Hence the reason, or the universal determining cause which makes
things be, and makes them be as they are rather than otherwise, must of necessity be
free of matter. Even the existence of matter depends upon it, since one does not find
anything in the concept of matter which carries a reason for its existence with it.
Now this ultimate reason for things which is common to all and universal because
of the connection between all the parts of nature is what we call God, who must of
necessity be an infinite and absolutely perfect substance. I am inclined to believe that
all finite immaterial substances - in the opinion of the ancient Church Fathers, even
the genii or angels - are joined to organs and accompany matter and even that souls
or active forms are found everywhere. And to constitute a complete substance matter
cannot dispense with them, since force and action are found everywhere in it. And the
laws of force depend upon certain marvelous principles of metaphysics or upon
intelligible concepts and cannot be explained by material or mathematical concepts
alone or by those which fall within the jurisdiction of the imagination.
Perception, too, cannot be explained by any mechanism, whatever it may be. We
can conclude then that there is also something immaterial everywhere in created
beings, and particularly in us, where this force is accompanied by a fairly distinct
perception, and even by that light of which I have spoken above, which makes us
resemble God in miniature not only through our knowledge of order but also through
the order which we can ourselves impart to the things within our grasp, in imitation
of that which God imparts to the universe. It is in this, also, that our virtue and per-
fection consist, as our feliCity consists in the pleasure which we take in it.
Now whenever we penetrate to the basis of anything, we find there the most beautiful
order we can desire, surpassing anything we had expected, as anyone knows who has
understood the sciences. We can therefore conclude that it is the same in all the rest
and that not only do immaterial substances subsist always but their lives, progress,
and changes are controlled to lead to a definite end or better, to approach it more
and more, as do the asymptotes. Even though we may sometimes slip back, like
curves which descend, the progression must finally prevail and win.
The natural light of reason is insufficient for us to recognize the details, and our
experiences are still too limited to discover the laws of this order. Meanwhile the
revealed light guides us when we heed it through faith. But there remains room to
think that in the future we may know still more by experience itself and that there are
spirits who already know more in this way than we.
Meanwhile philosophers and poets, lacking this knowledge, have had recourse to
the fictions of metempsychosis or of the Elysian fields in order to provide some ideas
which might be popularly appealing. But a consideration of the perfection of things,
or what amounts to the same thing, of the sovereign power, wisdom, and goodness
of God, who does everything for the best, that is, for the greatest order, is enough to
make all reasonable people content and to convince us that our contentment should
be the greater in the measure in which we are inclined to follow order and reason.
REFERENCES
1 For Leibniz's interpretation of Aristotle's doctrine of the common sense as the "mind itself"
in reply to Locke see p. 294, note 2.
2 The selection of number and figures as examples is significant, since Leibniz used them from
the beginning as fundamental categories, subforms of quantity and quality, upon which to base
and to extend mathematics, particularly geometry and the art of combinations (see Nos. 1,
27,and 70).
3 Leibniz's distinction between imagination and sensation itself marks a point of deviation
from Locke, since he emphasizes the dependence of the former upon the common sense and
therefore its close relation to reflection and understanding,
4 At about this time Leibniz was developing his theory of apperception (probably suggested
by the reflexive form s' appercevoir, which Coste used to translate Locke's perceive). Apper-
ception or reflection is the basis of understanding, for without it there would be no perception
of the content of perceptions and therefore no gound upon which to discover the universal
principles of reason operative in the mind. While memory is the precondition of consciousness
for Leibniz, apperception is the essential relation involved in the continuity of consciousness.
5 Reading exempte for exemp/e (G.).
58
REFLECTIONS ON THE DOCTRINE OF A SINGLE

UNIVERSAL SPIRIT
1702
This work, which returns to the theme of No. 53, On Nature Itself, was written at the
summer palace, Liitzenburg (later Char/ottenburg), near Berlin. Like the preceding, it
reflects the reply which Leibnizwas engaged in preparing to Locke's Essay.
[G., VI, 529-38]
Some discerning people have believed and still believe today, that there is only one
single spirit, which is universal and animates the whole universe and all its parts,
each according to its structure and the organs which it finds there, just as the same
wind current causes different organ pipes to give off different sounds. Thus they also
hold that when an animal has sound organs, this spirit produces the effect of a par-
ticular soul in it but that when the organs are corrupted, this particular soul reduces
to nothing or returns, so to speak, to the ocean of the universal spirit.
Aristotle has seemed to some to have had an opinion approaching this, which was
later revived by Averroes, a celebrated Arabian philosopher. He believed that there is
an intellectus agens, or active understanding, in us and also an intellectus patiens, or a
passive understanding, and that the former, coming from without, is eternal and
universal for all, while the passive understanding, being particular for each, disappears
at man's death. This was the doctrine of certain Peripatetics two or three centuries
ago, such as Pomponatius, Contarini, and others, and one recognizes traces of it in
the late Mr. Naude, as his letters and his recently printed Naudaeana show. 1 These
men taught the doctrine in secret to their closest and ablest disciples; in public they
were cautious enough to say that though the doctrine was indeed true according to
philosophy - by which they meant pre-eminently that of Aristotle - it was false from
the viewpoint of faith. This finally resulted in the disputes concerning the twofold
truth, a doctrine condemned in the last Lateran Council.
I have been told that Queen Christina held a strong inclination toward this opinion,
and since Mr. Naude, her librarian, was saturated with it, it would seem that he gave
her information about these secret opinions of famous philosophers, with whom he
had discoursed in Italy. Spinoza, who recognizes only one single substance, is not far
from the doctrine of a single universal spirit, and even the Neo-Cartesians, who hold
that only God acts, affirm it, seemingly unawares. It would also seem that Molinos
and certain other modem quietists, among them an author who calls himself John
Angelus Silesius, who wrote before Molinos and some of whose writings have recently
been reprinted, and even before these, Weigel, shared this opinion of a Sabbath or a
repose of souls in God. It is for this reason that they believed that the cessation of
particular activities is the highest state of perfection. 2
It is true that the Peripatetic philosophers did not make this spirit completely
universal, for besides the inteiligences which they held animated the stars, they also
assumed an intelligence for this lower world, holding that it is this intelligence which
functions as active intellect in the souls of men. They were led to this doctrine of a
universal immortal soul for all men by a fallacious argument. For they assumed that
an actual infinite plurality is impossible and that it is therefore also impossible that
there should be an infinite number of souls but that this would necessarily follow if
particular souls were to subsist. For since it is their opinion that the world is eternal
and the human race also, and since new souls are constantly being born, there would
have to be an actual infinity by now if they were all to subsist.
They regarded this reasoning as a demonstration. But it is full offalse assumptions.
There are those who disagree with them on the impossibility of an actual infinite, on
the eternity of the human race, and on the generation of new souls, since Platonists
teach the pre-existence of souls and Pythagoreans teach metempsychosis, holding that
there always remain a certain determined number of souls which pass through
cycles.
In itself the doctrine of a universal spirit is good, for all who teach it recognize in
fact the existence of divinity, whether they believe that this universal spirit is supreme-
in which case they hold that it itself is God - or whether they believe, like the Cabalists,
that God created it. The latter is also the opinion of the Englishman Henry More and
other newer philosophers, particularly of certain chemists who believe that there is a
universal Archeus or world-soul; some of them have maintained that this is the spirit
of the Lord moving over the waters, of which the beginning of Genesis speaks. 3
But to go so far as to say that this universal spirit is the only spirit and that there
are no particular souls or spirits, or at least that these particular souls cease to subsist,
is, I believe, to exceed the bounds of reason and to advance, without any basis, a
doctrine of which we have not even a distinct concept. Let us examine briefly the
apparent reasons upon which the attempt is made to support this doctrine which
destroys the immortality of souls and degrades the human race, or rather, all living
creatures, from the level on which they belong and which is commonly ascribed to
them. For it seems to me that so important an opinion should be proved and that it
is not enough merely to have an imaginary notion of it based in fact only upon a very
lame comparison with the wind animating musical organs.
I have shown above that the supposed demonstration of the Peripatetics, who
maintained that there is only one spirit common to all men, has no force but is sup-
ported entirely by false premises. Spinoza undertook to demonstrate that there is
only one substance in the world, but his demonstrations are pitiful or unintelligible.
And the Neo-Cartesians, who believe that only God acts, have hardly given a proof,
not to mention that Father Malebranche seems to admit at least the internal action
of particular spirits.
One of the most obvious arguments that have been urged against particular souls
is the difficulty involved in their origin. The Scholastic philosophers held great disputes
about the origin of forms, among which they included souls. Their opinions were
sharply divided as to whether they were drawn forth from the potency of matter, like
a figure worked out of marble [eduction], or whether there was a traduction of souls,
so that a new soul is born from a preceding one as one fire is lighted from another,
or whether souls had already pre-existed and merely made themselves known after

the generation of the body, or finally, whether souls were created by God whenever
there was a new generation.
Those who denied particular souls believed that by doing so, they were escaping
the whole difficulty, but they were really cutting the knot rather than untying it. There
is no force at all in an argument which can be put as follows: There have been differing
explanations of this doctrine; therefore, the whole doctrine is false. That is the way
the skeptics reason, and, if it were acceptable, there would be almost nothing which
one could not reject. Experiments in our own time lead us to believe that souls, and
even animals, have always existed, although in minute size, and that generation is
but a kind of augmentation. In this way all the difficulties connected with the genera-
tion of souls and forms disappear. We do not deny God the right to create new souls,
however, or to give a higher degree of perfection to those already in nature. We are
rather speaking only of what is-ordinary in nature without entering into God's partic-
ular economy with respect to human souls, which may be privileged because they are
infinitely above those of animals.
A factor which, in my opinion, has also contributed much to make intelligent men
accept the doctrine of a single universal spirit is that the popular philosophers gave
currency to a doctrine about separate souls and about soul functions separate from
and independent of the body and its organs which they could not fully justify. They
had a good reason in wanting to sustain the immortality of the soul as conforming to
divine perfections and to true morality; but seeing that the organs observed in animals
become disordered through death and are finally destroyed, they felt obliged to return
to separate souls, that is, to believe that the soul subsists without any body yet does
not cease having its thoughts and functions. The better to prove this, they tried to
show that the soul already has thoughts in this life which are abstract and independent
of material concepts. But those who rejected this separate state and independence as
contrary to experience and to reason were thereby driven all the more to believe in the
extinction of the individual soul and the conservation of the single universal spirit.
I have examined this matter carefully and have shown that there are in truth certain
materials of thought or objects of the understanding in the soul which have not been
furnished by the external senses, namely, the soul itself and its functions (nihil est in
intellectu quod non juerit in sensu, nisi ipse intellectus).4 Those who favor a universal
spirit will readily assent to this, for they distinguish this spirit from matter. I find,
however, that there is never any abstract thought which is not accompanied by some
images or material traces, and I have established a perfect parallelism between what
happens in the soul and what takes place in matter. I have shown that the soul with
its functions is something distinct from matter but that it nevertheless is always
accompanied by material organs and also that the soul's functions are always accom-
panied by organic functions which must correspond to them and that this relation is
reciprocal and always will be.
As for the complete separation of soul and body, I can say nothing about the laws
of grace, and about the ordinances of God in regard to human souls in particular,
beyond what the Holy Scriptures say, since these are things which cannot be known by
reason, being dependent on the revelation of God himself. Nevertheless, I see no
reason, either religious or philosophical, which compels me to abandon the doctrine
of the parallelism of soul and body and to admit a perfect separation. For why cannot
the soul always retain a subtle body organized after its own manner, which could
even some day reassume the form of its visible body in the resurrection, since a
glorified body is ascribed to the blessed, and since the ancient Fathers have ascribed
a subtle body to angels?
Furthermore, this doctrine conforms with the order of nature established through
experience, for the observations of very capable observers have convinced us that
animals do not begin when they are popularly believed to begin and that seminal
animals or living seeds have existed from the beginning of things. 5 And both order
and reason demand that what has existed since the beginning should no more have an end
and that, since generation is thus merely the growth of a changed and developed animal,
death will be nothing but the diminution of a changed and developed animal but that
the animal itself will always remain throughout these transformations, just as the
silkworm and the butterfly are one and the same animal. And it is appropriate to
remark here that nature has this tact and goodness in revealing its secrets to us in
small samples and thus making us infer the rest, everything being in correspondence
and harmony. It is this which nature shows us in the transformation of caterpillars
and other insects, for flies too come from worms, to help us grasp that there are
transformations everywhere. Our experiments on insects have destroyed the popular
notion that these animals are reproduced through nourishment, without propagation.
Nature has likewise also given us, in birds, a sample of how all animals are generated
by means of eggs, a fact which the new discoveries have now made us accept.
There are also microscopic observations which have shown that the butterfly is
merely a development of the caterpillar, but especially that seeds already contain the
formed plant or animal, although it still needs transformation and nourishment, or
growth, to become an animal of the kind which our ordinary senses can observe.
And since even the smallest insects reproduce by the propagation of their kind, one
must conclude the same to be true for these little seminal animals, that is, that they
themselves come from other still smaller seminal animals, and thus have originated
only with the world. This agrees well with the Holy Scriptures, which suggest that
there were seeds in the beginning.
In dreams and in unconsciousness nature has given us an example which should
convince us that death is not a cessation of all functions but only a suspension of
certain more noticeable ones. Elsewhere I have explained an important point whose
neglect has led men the more easily to accept the opinion that the soul is mortal. It is
that a large number of small perceptions which are equal and balanced among them-
selves, with nothing to give them relief or distinguish them from each other, are not
noticed at all and cannot be remembered. But to conclude from this that the soul is
without any function at all would be like the popular belief that there is a void or
nothing at all wherever there is no noticeable matter or that the earth does not move
because its movement, being uniform and without jerks, is unnoticeable. We have an
infinity of little perceptions which we are incapable of distinguishing. A great stupefying
roar, as, for example, the murmur of a large assemblage, is composed of all the little
murmurs of individual persons which are not noticed at all but of which one must
nevertheless have some sensation; otherwise one would not sense the whole. Thus
when an animal is deprived of organs capable of giving it sufficiently distinct percep-
tions, it does not follow that the animal has left no smaller and more uniform percep-
tions or that it is deprived of all its organs and all its perceptions. Its organs are merely
enveloped and reduced to a small volume, but the order of nature requires that every-

thing be developed again sometime and return to a noticeable state and that there be
a definite well-regulated progression in its changes which helps to bring things to
fruition and perfection. It seems that even Democritus noted this resuscitation of
animals, .for Plotinus ascribed a doctrine of resurrection to him.6
These considerations all show that not only particular souls but animals themselves
subsist and that there is no reason for believing in a complete extinction of souls or
even a complete destruction of the animal. As a result, therefore, there is no need to
have recourse to a single universal spirit and to rob nature of its own particular and
subsisting perfections; thus also failing in fact adequately to recognize its order and
harmony. There are also many things in the doctrine of a single universal spirit which
cannot be maintained and are involved in much greater difficulties than the common
doctrine.
These are a few of them. One may see at once that the analogy of the wind which
makes different pipes sound differently flatters the imagination but explains nothing
or, rather, that it implies exactly the contrary. For this universal wind in the pipes is
nothing but the sum of a number of individual winds. So each pipe is filled with its
own air, which can even pass from one pipe into another, in a way which makes the
analogy support, instead, particular souls and even the transmigration of souls from
one body to another, as the air can change pipes.
Moreover, if one imagines the universal spirit to be like an ocean composed of an
infinity of drops which become detached when they animate some particular organic
body but are reunited to the ocean after the organs are distroyed, one again forms a
materialistic and crude concept which does not fit the matter and is involved in the
same difficulties as those of the wind. For since the ocean is an aggregate of drops,
God would be an assemblage of all souls, almost in the same way that a swarm of
bees is an assemblage of small animals. But this swarm is not in itself a true substance,
and it is clear that on this basis the universal spirit would not in itself be a true being.
Instead of saying, then, that God is the only spirit, we should have to say that he is
nothing at all by himself and that there are i'n nature only the particular souls of
which he is the aggregate.
Besides, the drops reunited to the ocean of universal spirit after the destruction of
the organs would in fact be souls which were subsisting independently of matter. So
we would fall back into the view which we sought to avoid, especially if these drops
retain some trace of their preceding state or still hav~ certain functions and could per-
haps even acquire more sublime ones in this ocear of divinity or of the universal
spirit. But if we mean that these souls reunited to God are without any other functions
of their own, we fall into an opinion contrary to reason and to all sound philosophy,
as if any subsisting being could ever reach a state in which it is without any function
or impression whatever. For when one thing is joined to another, it does not cease
to have its particular functions, but these joined to the functions of others result in the
functions of the whole. The whole would have none if the parts had none.
Furthermore, I have shown elsewhere that each being preserves perfectly all the
impressions which it has received, although these impressions may no longer be
noticeable separately because they have been joined with others. Thus the soul, reunited
with an ocean of souls, would always remain the particular soul which it had been
separately.
This shows that it is more reasonable and in greater conformity with the habits of
nature to keep particular souls subsisting in animals themselves, and not outside of
them in God, and so to conserve not merely the soul but also the animal, as I have
explained above and elsewhere; thus particular souls would also remain on dutyal-
ways, that is, they would retain the particular functions which belong to them and
would contribute to the beauty and order of the universe, instead of being reduced to
the Sabbath in God of the quietists, or to a state of idleness and uselessness. As for
the beatific vision of blessed spirits, it is compatible with the functions of their glorified
bodies, which will continue to be organic in their own manner.
If anyone tries to maintain, however, that there are no particular souls at all, not
even now, while the functions of sensation and thought take place with the help of
organs, he is refuted by our experience, which teaches, it seems to me, that we are
in ourselves something particular which thinks. which perceives, and which wills, and
that we are distinguished from another being who thinks and wills something else.
Otherwise we fall into the opinion of Spinoza or some similar authors who hold that
there is only one substance, God, who thinks, believes, and wills one thing in me,
but who thinks, believes, and wills an entirely contrary thing in someone else, an opin-
ion which Mr. Bayle has well held up to ridicule in certain passages of his Dictionary.7
To go further, if there is nothing in nature but the universal spirit and matter, we
shall have to say that if it is not the universal spirit who believes and wills contrary
things in different persons, it is matter which is different and acts differently. But if
matter acts, of what good is the universal spirit? If matter is only a passive first
principle or better, a purely passive being, how then attribute these actions to it? It
is far more reasonable, then, to believe that besides God, who is the supreme active
principle, there are numerous particular active beings, since there are numerous
actions and passions which are particular and contrary and should not be ascribed
to the same subject. And these active beings are none other than individual souls.
It is also known that there are degrees in all things. There is an infinity of degrees
between motion of any kind whatever and perfect rest, between hardness and perfect
fluidity without any resistance, between God and nothing. Thus there is likewise an
infinity of degrees between an active being as great as it can be and pure passivity. It
is unreasonable, therefore, to recognize only a single active being, that is, a universal
spirit, and a single passive one, that is, matter.
We must consider also that matter is not something opposed to God but that it
must rather be bpposed to a limited active being, that is, to the soul or to the form.
For God is the supreme being, opposed to nothingness; from him comes matter as
well as forms, and the purely passive is something more than nothingness, since it is
capable of something, whereas nothingness can have no attributes. So we must match
each particular portion of matter with particular forms, that is to say, with the souls
and spirits which correspond to it.
I do not wish to return here to a demonstrative argument which I have used elsewhere,
which is drawn from the nature of unities or simple things, with which particular
souls are included. This argument compels us, unavoidably, not merely to admit partic-
ular souls but also to affirm that they are immortal by their nature and as indestructible
as the universe and what is more, that each soul is a mirror of the universe in its own
way, without any interruption, and contains in its depths an order corresponding to
that of the universe itself; and that the souls vary and represent in an infinite number of
ways, all different and all true, and thus multiply the universe, so to speak, as often as

possible, and in such a way that they approach divinity as far as they can in their different
degrees and give to the universe all the perfection of which it is capable.
Consequently, I cannot see any basis, either in reason or in appearance, for com-
bating the doctrine of individual souls. Those who do it agree that what is in us is
an effect of the universal spirit. But the effects of God have subsistence, not to say
that even the modifications and effects of created beings have permanence in some way
and that their impressions are merely joined together without destroying each other.
If therefore, as we have seen, it is in conformity with both reason and experience for
the animal to subsist always, with its more or less distinct perceptions and with cer-
tain organs, and if, as a result, this effect of God always subsists in these organs,
why should it not be permissible to call this the soul and to say that this effect of
God is an immaterial and immortal soul which in some way imitates the universal
spirit? Especially since this doctrine puts an end to all difficulties, as I have made
fully clear in what I have said here and in other writings dealing with these matters?
REFERENCES
1 Leibniz's easy identification of the differing positions of these men is inexact. Pomponazzi
(De immortalitate animae [1516]) explicitly rejected the Averroistic doctrine of a single active
intellect, and Cardinal Contarini (De immortalitate animae, adversus Petrum Pomponatium
[1518]) rejected both Averroist and Alexandrist versions, as did the church in the Lateran
Council on December 19, 1512, as Leibniz later points out. Cassirer (BC., II, 49, n. 314) cites
Sponde, Annales ecc/esiae, as the source of Leibniz's error. The Naudaeana of the French bi-
bliographer and librarian of Queen Christine of Sweden, Gabriel Naude (1600-1653), had
appeared in 1701.
2 On the quietists, Valentine Weigel, and Angelus Silesius see p. 430, note 9.
3 Gen. 1 :2. On Henry More see p. 452, note 15; on the elder Van He1mont's popularization
of Paracelsus' doctrine of archeus see p. 412, note 37; and p. 328, note 14. On the vitalistic
movement see p 508, note 2.
4 "Nothing is in the intel1ect which has not already been in the senses - except the intel1ect
itself. "
5 The capable observers alluded to are Malpighi, Leeuwenhoek, and Swanunerdam. Malpighi
had formulated the cel1 theory in his Anatome plantarum (1675), Leeuwenhoek discovered
spermatazoa, and Swammerdam was known for his studies of the transformations of insects.
On the controversy between the ovulist followers of Harvey and the animalculists following
Leeuwenhoek, Leibniz does not here take a position (see Wundt, Leibniz, pp. 54-56).
6 See p. 461, n. 11.
7 Especial1y in the articles on "Averroes" and on "Spinoza".
59
REFLECTIONS ON THE COMMON CONCEPT OF JUSTICE

1702(?)
Though conclusive evidence for the date of this work, in French, is lacking, it is obviously
in Leibniz's courtly style, and the allusion to the three queens (p.570) in whom the
Electress Sophia was directly interested suggests that it was written for her at some
time between the determination of the Hanoverian succession to the English throne and
the death of the Queen ofPrussia in 1705. Not only is it a clear development of Leibniz's
theory ofjustice and its application to government, but it contains clues to his theory of
values, proposals for scientific co-operation, and a popular statement of his theodicy. His
indictment of slavery is more vigorous than in No. 44, IV, and earlier writings, and Whig
principles find expression in his justification of the people's right to resist the sovereign
in extraordinary cases.
[Mollat, pp. 41-70]
It is generally agreed that whatever God wills is good and just. But there remains the
question whether it is good and just because God wills it or whether God wills it
because it is good and just; in other words, whether justice and goodness are arbitrary
or whether they belong to the necessary and eternal truths about the nature of things,
as do numbers and proportions. The former opinion has been held by certain phi-
losophers and by theologians, both Roman and Reformed. But the Reformed theo-
logians of today usually reject this teaching, as do also all our own theologians and
most of those of the Roman church as well.
As a matter of fact it would destroy the justice of God. For why praise him for
acting justly if the concept of justice adds nothing to his act? And to say, Stat pro
ratione voluntas - 'Let my will stand for the reason' - is definitely the motto of a
tyrant. Moreover, this opinion would hardly distinguish God from the devil. For if
the devil, that is, an intelligent, invisible power who is very great and very evil, were
the master of the world, this devil or this god would still be evil even if we were
forced to honor him, just as certain peoples honor imaginary gods of this kind in the
hope of bringing them to do less evil. Consequently, some people, overly devoted to
the absolute right of God, have believed that he could justly condemn innocent
people and even that this may actually happen. This does violence to those attributes
which make God love-worthy and destroys our love for God, leaving only fear.
Those who believe, for example, that infants who die without baptism are cast into
the eternal flames must in effect have a very weak idea of the goodness and the justice
of God and thus thoughtlessly injure what is most essential to religion.
The Sacred Scriptures also give us an entirely different idea of this sovereign
substance, speaking, as they so often and so clearly do, of the goodness of God and
presenting him as a person who justifies himself against complaints. In the story of
the creation of the world, the Scripture says that God considered all that he had done

and found it good; that is, he was content with his work and had reason to be so.
This is a human way of speaking which seems to be used explicitly to point out that
the goodness of the acts and products of God does not depend on his will but on
their nature. Otherwise he would only have to see what he willed and did to determine
if it is good and to justify himself to himself as a wise sovereign. All our theologians,
therefore, and most of those of the Roman church, as well as the ancient Church
Fathers and the wisest and most esteemed philosophers, have favored the second
view, which holds that goodness and justice have grounds independent of will and of
force.
In his dialogues Plato introduces and refutes a certain Thrasymachus who tried to
explain what justice is by a definition which, if acceptable, would strongly support
the view which we are opposing. 1 That is just, he says, which suits or pleases the most
powerful. If this were true, the sentence of a sovereign court or a supreme judge
would never be unjust, nor would an evil but powerful man ever deserve condemnation.
What is more, the same action could be just and unjust depending on the judges who
decide, which is ridiculous. It is one thing to be just, another to pass for just and to
take the place of justice.
A celebrated English philosopher named Hobbes, who has a reputation for his
paradoxes, has tried to maintain almost the same thing as Thrasymachus. 2 He holds
that God has the right to do anything because he is all-powerful. This fails to distinguish
between right and fact. For what can be is one thing; what ought to be is another.
This same Hobbes believes, for almost the same reason, that the true religion is that
of the state. 3 It would follow that if the emperor Claudius, who decreed in an edict
that "in libera re publica crepitus atque ructus liberos esse debere" 4, had established
the god Crepitus among the authorized gods, he would have been a true god worthy
of worship.
This amounts to saying, in concealed terms, that there is no true religion and that
religion is merely an invention of men. And in the same vein, the remark that justice
is that which pleases the most powerful is nothing but saying that there is no certain
and determined rule of justice which prevents our doing what we wish to do and can
do with impunity, however evil it may be. Thus treason, assassination, poisoning, the
torture of innocents, would all be just if they succeeded. This is essentially to change
the meaning of terms and to speak a language different from that of other men.
Until now we have meant by justice something different from that which always
prevails. We have believed that a happy man can be evil and that an unpunished act
can nevertheless be unjust, that is, it may deserve punishment, so that the issue is
solely to know why it deserves punishment, without raising the question of whether
the punishment will actually follow or not, or whether there is any judge to impose
it.
There were once two tyrants in Sicily named Denis, father and son. The father was
more evil than the son. He had established his tyranny by destroying many honorable
men. His son was less cruel but more addicted to disorders and luxuries. The father
was happy and kept himself in power; the son was overthrown and finally made him-
self schoolmaster at Corinth in order to have the pleasure of ruling always and of
carrying a scepter, after a fashion at least, by wielding the switches used in punishing
the children. Should we say that the actions of the father were more just than those
of the son because he was happy and unpunished? Would such a view permit history
to condemn a happy tyrant? We see too, every day, that men, whether interested or
disinterested, complain of the actions of certain powerful people and find them unjust.
So the question is only whether they have reason to complain and whether history
can justly blame the inclinations and acts of any prince. If this be granted, we must
acknowledge that men mean something else by justice and right than that which
pleases a powerful being who remains unpunished because there is no judge capable
of mending matters.
In the universe as a whole, or in the government of the world, it is fortunately true
that he who is the most powerful is at the same time just and does nothing against
which anyone has a right to complain. We must hold for certain that if we understood
that universal order, we should find it impossible to do anything better than he has
done it. Yet his power is not the formal reason which makes him just. Otherwise, if
power were the formal reason for justice, all powerful beings would be just, each in
proportion to his power, which is contrary to experience.
We must therefore search after this formal reason, that is, the 'wherefore' of this
attribute or the concept which should teach us what justice is and what men mean
when they call an act just or unjust. And this formal reason must be common to God
and man. Otherwise we should be wrong in seeking to ascribe the same attribute to
both without equivocation. These are fundamental rules for reasoning and discourse.
I grant that there is a great difference between the way in which men are just and
the way in which God is just, but this difference is only one of degree. For God is
perfectly and entirely just, while the justice of men is mixed with injustice, with faults
and sins, because of the imperfection of human nature. The perfections of God are
infinite; ours are limited. Anyone, therefore, who tries to maintain that the justice
and goodness of God have entirely different rules from those of men must at the same
time admit that two entirely different concepts are involved and that to ascribe justice
to both is either deliberate equivocation or gross self-deceit. But if we choose one of
the two concepts as the proper conception of justice, it must follow either that there
is no true justice in God or that there is none in man, or perhaps that there is none in
either God or man, so that in the end we do not know what we are talking about
when we speak of justice. This would in effect destroy justice and leave nothing but
the name, as do those who make it arbitrary and dependent on the whim of a judge or
ruler, since the same act will appear just and unjust to different judges.
This is somewhat as if we should try to maintain that our science - for example,
arithmetic, or the science of numbers - does not agree with the science of God or the
angels, or perhaps that all truth is arbitrary and based on a whim. For example, 1,4,
9, 16,25, etc., are square numbers produced by multiplying 1, 2, 3,4,5, etc., by them-
selves. Thus 1 times 1 is 1; 2 times 2 is 4; 3 times 3 is 9, etc. We discover that the
successive odd numbers are the differences between successive square numbers. Thus
the difference between 1 and 4 is 3, that between 4 and 9 is 5, between 9 and 16 is 7,
etc .... Now would one have any reason to maintain that this is not true for God and
the angels and that they see or discover something in numbers entirely contrary to
what we find in them? Would we not be right in laughing at a man who maintained
this and who did not know the difference between eternal and necessary truths, which
must be the same for all, and truths that are contingent and changeable or arbitrary?
This same thing is true about justice. If it is a fixed term with determinate meaning -
in a word, if it is not a simple sound without sense, like blitiri - the term or word

justice will have some definition or intelligible meaning. And, by using the incontestable
rules of logic, one can draw definite consequences from every definition. This is pre-
cisely what we do in building the necessary and demonstrative sciences which do not
depend at all on facts but solely on reason; such are logic, metaphysics, arithmetic,
geometry, the science of motion, and the science of Right [droit] as well, which are
not at all based on experience or facts but serve rather to give reasons for facts and to
control them in advance. This would be true in regard to Right, even if there were
no law [Ioi] in the world. 5 The error of those who have made justice depend upon
power comes in part from their confusion of Right with law. Right cannot be unjust;
this would be a contradiction. But law can be, for it is power which gives and main-
tains law; and if this power lacks wisdom or good will, it can give and maintain very
bad laws. But happily for the world, the laws of God are always just, and he is in a
position to maintain them, as- he without a doubt does, even though this has not
always happened visibly and at once - for which he assuredly has good reasons.
We must determine, then, the formal ptinciple of justice and the measure by which
we should judge acts to know if they are just or unjust. After what has been said we
can already foresee what this must be. Justice is nothing but what conforms to wisdom
and goodness combined. The end of goodness [bonte] is the greatest good [bien]. But
to recognize this we need wisdom, which is merely the knowledge of the good, as
goodness is merely the inclination to do good to all and to prevent evil, at least if evil
is not necessary for a greater good or to prevent a greater evil. Thus wisdom is in the
understanding, and goodness is in the will, and as a result justice is in both. Power is
another matter. But if power is added, it brings to pass the Right and causes that which
should be to exist really as well, insofar as the nature of things permits. And this is
what God does in the world.
But since justice aims at the good, and wisdom and goodness together form justice
and so refer to the good, we may ask what is the true good. I reply that it is merely
whatever serves the perfection of intelligent substances. It is obvious, therefore, that
order, contentment, joy, wisdom, goodness, and virtue are goods in an essential sense
and can never be bad and that power is a good in a natural sense, that is, by itself,
because, other things being equal, it is better to have it than not to have it. But power
does not become an assured good until it is joined with wisdom and goodness. For the
power of an evil man serves only sooner or later to plunge him further into misery,
since it gives him the means of doing more evil and of earning a greater punishment,
from which he will not escape, since the universe has a perfectly just monarch whose
infinite penetration and sovereign power one cannot avoid.
Since experience shows us that God, for reasons unknown to us but surely very wise
and based on a greater good, permits many evil persons to be happy in this life and
many good persons to be unhappy, a fact which would not conform to the rules of a
perfect government such as God's if it had not been corrected, it follows necessarily
that there will be another life and that souls will not perish with the visible bodies.
Otherwise there would be crimes unpunished and good deeds un rewarded, which is
contrary to order.
There are demonstrative proofs, besides, of the immortality of the soul, for the
principle of action and of consciousness could not derive from a purely passive ex-
tended thing indifferent to all motion, as is matter. Therefore action and consciousness
must necessarily come from something simple or immaterial, without extension and
without parts, which is called the soul. But whatever is simple and without parts is
not subject to dissolution and as a result, cannot be destroyed. There are people who
imagine that we are too small a thing in the sight of an infinite God for him to be
concerned about us. It is thought that we are to God as are the worms which we crush
without thinking, in relation to us. But this is to imagine that God is like man and
that he cannot think of everything. God, according to this reasoning, being infinite,
does things without work in a way that results from his will, just as it results from my
will and that of my friend that we are in accord, without needing some action to
produce the accord after our resolutions are made. But if mankind, or even the smal-
lest thing, were not well governed, the whole universe would not be well governed, for
the whole consists of its parts.
We also find order and wonders in the smallest whole things when we are capable of
distinguishing their parts and at the same time of seeing the whole, as we do in looking
at insects and other small things in the microscope. There are thus the strongest
reasons for holding that the same craftsmanship and harmony would be found in
great things if we were capable of seeing them as a whole. Above all, they would be
found in the whole economy of the government of spirits, which are the substances
most similar to God because they are themselves capable of recognizing and inventing
order and craftsmanship. As a result we must conclude that the Author of things who
is so inclined to order will be concerned for those creatures who are naturally sources
of order in the measure of their perfection and who are alone capable of imitating
his workmanship. But it is impossible that this should seem so to us, in this small
portion of life which we live here below, which is but a small bit of the life without
bounds which no spirit can fail to achieve. To consider this bit separately is to consider
things like a broken stick or like the bits of flesh of an animal taken separately, so
that the craftsmanship of its organs cannot be made apparent.
This is also true when one looks at the brain, which must undoubtedly be one of the
greatest wonders of nature, since it contains the most immediate organs of sense. Yet
one finds there only a confused mass in which nothing unusual appears but which
nevertheless conceals some kind of filaments of a fineness much greater than that of
a spider's web which are thought to be the vessels for that very subtle fluid called the
animal spirits. Thus this mass of brain contains a very great multitude of passages -
and of passages too small for us to overcome the labyrinth with our eyes, whatever
microscope we may use. For the subtlety of the spirits contained in these passages is
equal to that of light rays themselves. Yet our eyes and our sense of touch show us
nothing extraordinary in the appearance of the brain.
We may say that it is the same in the government of intelligent substances under the
kingship of God, in which everything seems confused to our eyes. Nevertheless, it
must be the most beautiful and most marvelous arrangement of the world, since it
comes from an Author who is the source of all perfection. But it is too great and too
beautiful for spirits with our present range to be able to perceive it so soon. To try
to see it here is like wishing to take a novel by the tail and to claim to have deciphered
the plot from the first book; the beauty of a novel, instead, is great in the degree that
order emerges from very great apparent confusion. The composition would thus
contain a fault if the reader could divine the entire issue at once. But what is only
suspense [curiosite] and beauty in novels, which imitate creation, so to speak, is also
utility and wisdom in this great and true poem, this word-by-word creation, the uni-

verse. The beauty and justice of the divine government have been hidden in part
from our eyes, not only because it could not be otherwise without changing the entire
harmony of the world, but also because it is proper in order that there may be more
exercise of free virtue, wisdom, and a love of God which is not mercenary, since the
rewards and punishments are still outwardly invisible and appear only to the eyes of
our reason or faith. This I find to be a good thing here, since the true faith is based
on reason. And since the wonders of nature show us that God's operations are ad-
mirably beautiful whenever we can envisage a whole in its setting, even though this
beauty is not apparent when we consider things detached or torn from their whole,
we must likewise conclude that all that we cannot yet disentangle or envisage as a
whole with all its parts must no less have justice and beauty. To recognize this point
is to have a natural foundation for faith, hope, and the love of God, since these
virtues are based on a knowledge of the divine perfections.
Now nothing better corroborates the incomparable wisdom of God than the struc-
ture of the works of nature, particularly the structure which appears when we study
them more closely with a microscope. It is for this reason, as well as because of the
great light which could be thrown upon bodies for the use of medicine, food, and
mechanical ends, that it should be most necessary to push our knowledge further with
the aid of microscopes. There are scarcely ten men in the world who are carefully at
work on this, and if there were a hundred thousand, there would not be too many to
discover the important wonders of this new world which makes up the interior of
ours and which is capable of making our knowledge a hundred thousand times
greater than it is. It is for this reason that I have more than once hoped that the great
princes might be led to arrange for this and to induce men to work at it. Observatories
have been founded for watching the stars, whose structures are spectacular and demand
great apparatus, but telescopes are far from being as useful and from revealing the
beauties and varieties of knowledge which microscopes reveal. A man in Delft has
accomplished wonders at it, and if there were many others like him, our knowledge
of physics would be advanced far beyond its present state. It behooves great princes
to arrange this for the public welfare, in which they are most interested. And since this
matter involves little cost and display, is very easy to direct, and needs very little but
good will and attention to accomplish it, there is little reason to neglect it. As for me
I have no other motive in recommending this research than to advance our knowledge
of truth and the public good, which is strongly interested in the increase of the treasure
of human knowledge.
Most of the questions of Right, but especially of the right of sovereigns and nations,
are confused because they do not agree on a common conception of justice, with the
result that we do not understand the same thing by the same word, and this opens the
way to endless dispute. Everyone would agree, perhaps, on this nominal definition -
that justice is a constant will to act in such a way that no person has reason to complain
of us. But this is not enough unless the method is given for determining these reasons.
Now I observe that some people restrict the reasons for human complaints very
narrowly and that others extend them. There are those who believe that it is enough
if no harm is done to them and if no one has deprived them of their possessions,
holding that no one is obligated to seek the good of others or prevent evil for them,
even if it should cost us nothing and give us no pain. Many who pass in the world for
great judges keep themselves within these limits. They content themselves with harming
no one, but they are not inclined to improve people's conditions. In a word, they
believe one can be just without being charitable.
There are others in the world who have greater and more beautiful views and who
would not wish anyone to complain of their lack of goodness. They would approve
what I have said in my preface to the Codex juris gentium 6 - that justice is the charity
of the wise man, that is, a goodness toward others which ought to conform to wisdom.
And wisdom, in my opinion, is nothing but the knowledge of happiness. Men may be
permitted to vary in their use of words, and if anyone wants to insist on limiting the
term just to what is the opposite of charitable, there is no way to force him to change
his language, since names are arbitrary. Yet we have a right to learn the reasons which
he has for being what he calls just, in order to see whether these same reasons will not
bring him also to be good and to do good.
I believe we will agree that those who are charged with the conduct of others, like
tutors, the directors of societies, and certain magistrates, are obligated not merely to
prevent evil but also to secure the good. But it might perhaps be questioned whether
a man free from commitments, or the sovereign of a state, has such obligations, the
former in relation to others involved in the situation, the latter in relation to his
subjects.
On top of this I shall ask that whoever can sustain a person must not do evil to
others. One can give more than one reason for this. The most pressing will be the fear
that someone will do the same thing to us. But are we not also subject to the fear that
men will hate us if we refuse them aid which does not at all inconvenience us and if
we neglect to prevent an evil which is about to crush them? Someone may say, 'I am
content that others should not harm me. I do not ask at all for their aid and their
good deeds and have no wish either to give or to claim more.' But can one sincerely
maintain this? Let him ask himself what he would say or hope for if he should find
himself actually on the point of falling into an evil which someone could help him
avoid by a tum of his hand? Would one not hold him for a bad man and even for
an enemy if he refused to save us in such a situation? ... It will be granted, then, that
one ought to prevent evil for another if it can be done conveniently. But perhaps it
will not be granted that justice orders us to do positive good to others. 1 now ask if
one is not at least obligated to relieve others' ills. And 1 return again to the proof,
that is, to the rule, quod Ubi non vis fieri. 7 Suppose that you were plunged into misery.
Would you not complain about someone who did not help you, if he could easily do
so? You have fallen into the water. If he refuses to throw a rope to you to give you a
way of saving yourself, would you not judge him to be an evil man and even an enemy?
Suppose that you suffered from violent pains and that someone had in his house,
under his lock and key, a healing fountain capable of relieving your ills. What would
you say and what would you do if he refused to give you a few glasses of its water?
Led by degrees 8, people will agree not only that men ought to abstain from doing
evil but also that they ought to prevent evil from being done and even to alleviate it
when it is done, at least as far as they can without inconvenience to themselves. 1 am
not now examining how far this inconvenience can go. Yet it will still be doubted,
perhaps, that one is obligated to secure the good of another, even when this can be done
without difficulty. Someone may say, 'I am not obligated to help you achieve. Each for
himself, God for all.' But let me again suggest an intermediate case. A great good comeS
to you, but an obstacle arises, and I can remove that obstacle without pain. Would

you not think it right to ask me to do so and to remind me that I would ask it of you
ifI were in a similar plight? If you grant this point, as you can hardly help doing, how
can you refuse the only remaining request, that is, to procure a great good for me when
you can do this without inconvenience of any kind to yourself and without being
able to offer any reason for not doing it except a simple, 'I do not want to'? You could
make me happy, and you refuse to do so. I complain, and you would complain in the
same circumstances; therefore, I complain with justice.
This gradation shows us that the same grounds for complaint subsist throughout.
Whether one does evil or refuses to do good is a matter of degree, of more or less,
but this does not alter the nature of the matter. It can also be said that the absence of
the good is an evil and the absence of the evil a good. In general, if someone asks
you to do something or not to do something, and you refuse his request, he has reason
to complain if he can judge that you would make the same request if you were in his
place. And this is the principle of equity or, what is the same thing, of equality or of the
identity of reasons, which holds that one should grant to others whatever one would
himself wish in a similar situation, without claiming any privilege contrary to reason
or without claiming to be able to allege one's will as a reason.
Perhaps we can say, then, that not to do evil to another, neminem laedere, is the
precept of the Law which is called strict Right Uus strictum] but that equity demands
that one also do good when this is fitting and that it is in this that the precept consists
which orders us to give each one his due, suum cuique tribuere. But what determines
fitness [convenance] or what each one is due can be known by the rule of equity or of
equality: quod tibi non vis fieri aut quod tibi vis fieri, neque aliis jacito aut negato. 9
This is the rule of reason and of our Master. Put yourself in the place of another,
and you will have the true point of view to judge what is just or not.
Certain objections have been made against this great rule, but they come from the
fact that it is not applied universally. For example, it has been objected that by virtue
of this maxim a criminal can claim a pardon from the sovereign judge because the
judge would wish the same thing if he were in a similar position. The reply is easy.
The judge must put himself not only in the place of the criminal but also in that of the
others whose interest lies in the crime being punished. And he must determine the
greater good in which the lesser evil is included. The same is true of the objection that
distributive justice demands an inequality among men, that a society ought to divide
gains in proportion to what each has contributed, and that merit and lack of merit
must be considered. Here the reply is also easy. Put yourself in the place of all and
assume that they are well informed and enlightened. You will gather this conclusion
from their votes: they will regard it fitting to their own interest that distinctions be
made between one another. For example, if profits were not divided proportionalIy in
a commercial society, some would not enter it at alI, and others would quickly leave it,
which is contrary to the interest of the whole society.
We may say, then, that justice, at least among men, is the constant will to act as
far as possible in such a way that no one can complain of us if we would not complain
of others in a similar situation. From this it is evident that when it is impossible to
act so that the whole world is satisfied, we should try to satisfy people as much as
possible. What is just thus conforms to the charity of the wise man.
So wisdom, which is a knowledge of our own good, brings us to justice, that is to
say, to a reasonable advance toward the good of others. So far we have proposed as a
reason for this the fear that we will be harmed if we do otherwise. But there is also the
hope that others will do the same for us. Nothing is surer than the proverbs, homo
homini deus, homo homini lupus. 10 Nothing can contribute more to the happiness, or
to the misery, of man than men themselves. If they were all wise and knew how to
treat each other, they would all be happy, as far as happiness can be obtained by
human reason. But we may be permitted to use fictions for a better insight into the
nature of things. Assume a person who has nothing to fear from others; such a person
as would be a superior power in relation to men - some higher spirit; some substance
which pagans would have called a divinity; some immortal, invulnerable, invincible
man - in short, a person who can neither hope for nor fear anything from us. Shall
we say that such a person is nonetheless obligated to do us no harm and even to do
us good? Mr. Hobbes would say 'No'. He would even add that this person would
have an absolute right in making us his conquest, because we could not complain of
such a conqueror on the grounds which we have just pointed out, since there is another
condition which exempts him from all consideration for us. But without needing a
fiction, what shall we say of the supreme divinity whom reason makes us recognize?
Christians agree, and others should agree, that this great God is supremely just and
supremely good. But it cannot be for his own repose or to maintain peace with us
that he shows us so much goodness, for we should be unable to wage war against him.
What then is the principle of his justice, and what is its law? It cannot be this equity
or equality which exists among men and makes them envisage the common end of
our human condition, 'to do unto others what we wish others to do unto us'.
One cannot envisage any other motive in God than that of perfection or if you like,
of his pleasure. Assuming, according to my definition, that pleasure is nothing but the
feeling of perfection, he has nothing to consider outside of himself; on the contrary,
everything depends upon him. But his happiness would not be supreme if he did not
aim at as much good and perfection as possible. But what will you say if I show that
this same motive is found in truly virtuous and generous men, whose highest function
is to imitate divinity so far as human nature is able? The earlier reasons of fear and
hope can bring men to be just in public and when necessary for their own interest.
They will even obligate them to exercise and practice the rules of justice from child-
hood in order to acquire habits, out of fear of betraying themselves too easily, and so
harming themselves along with others. Yet if there were no other notive, this would
merely be political at bottom. And if someone who is just in this sense should find
opportunity to make a great fortune through a great crime which would remain
unknown, or at least unpunished, he would say as did Julius Caesar,following Euripides:
Si violandum est jus, regnandi gratia
Violandum est. l l
But he whose justice is proof against such a temptation cannot have any motive
but that of his own inclination, acquired by birth or exercise and regulated by reason,
which makes him find so much pleasure in the practice of justice and so much ugliness
in unjust acts that other pleasures and displeasures are compelled to give way.
One can say that this serenity of spirit, which finds the greatest pleasure in virtue
and the greatest evil in vice, that is, in the perfection and imperfection of the will,
would be the greatest good of which man is capable here below, even if he had nothing
to expect beyond this life. For what can be preferred to this internal harmony, this

continual pleasure in the purest and greatest, of which one is always master and which
one need never abandon? Yet it must also be said that it is difficult to attain this disposi-
tion of spirit and that the number of those who have achieved it is small, most men
remaining insensible to this motive, great and beautiful though it be. This seems to be
why the Siamese believed that those who attain this degree of perfection receive
divinity as a reward. The goodness of the Author of things has therefore provided for
it through a motive more nearly within the reach of all men, by making himself known
to the human race, as he has done by the eternal light of reason which he has given us
and by the wonderful effects which he has placed before our eyes of his power, wisdom,
and infinite goodness. This knowledge should make us see God as the sovereign
Monarch of the universe, whose government is the most perfect state conceivable, in
which nothing is neglected, in which all the hairs on our heads are counted, in which
everything right becomes a fact, either in itself or in some equivalent form, in such a
way that justice coincides with the good pleasure of God and no divorce ever arises
between the honorable [l'honnete] and the useful. After this it must be imprudent not
to be just, because, according as he is just or unjust, a man will certainly experience
good or bad for himself from what he has done.
But there is something still more beautiful than all this in the government of God.
What Cicero has said allegorically of ideal justice is really true in reference to this
substantial justice - that if we could see it, we should be inflamed by its beauty.12
One can compare the divine Monarchy to a kingdom whose sovereign would be a
queen more spiritual and more learned than Queen Elizabeth; more judicious, more
happy, and in a word, greater than Queen Anne; cleverer, wiser, and more beautiful
than the Queen of Prussia - in short, as accomplished as it is possible to be. 13 Conceive
that the perfections of this queen make such an impression upon the minds of her
subjects that it is their greatest pleasure to obey and to please her. In this case the whole
world would be virtuous and just by inclination. It is this which occurs literally and
beyond all description in relation to God and to those who know him. It is in him that
wisdom, virtue, justice, and grandeur, are accompanied by sovereign beauty. One
cannot know God as one should witho1f1t loving him above all things, and one cannot
love him thus without willing what he wills. His perfections are infinite and cannot
cease. This is why the pleasure which consists in the feeling of his perfections is the
greatest and most durable possible; thl).t is, it is the greatest felicity. And that which
causes one to love him at the same time makes one happy and virtuous....
This shows that justice can be taken In different ways. It can be opposed to charity,
and then it is only the jus strictum. It can be opposed to the wisdom of him who must
exercise justice, and then it conforms to the general good, but there will be cases in
which the particular good will not be found in it. God and immortality would not
enter into account. When one considers them, however, one always finds his own
good in the general good.
While justice is merely a particular virtue, moreover, when we leave out of considera-
tion God or a government which imitated that of God, and while this virtue so limited
includes only what is called commutative and distributive justice, it can be said that
as soon as it is based on God or on the imitation of God it becomes universal justice
and contains all the virtues. For when we are vicious not only do we harm ourselves
but we also diminish, so far as depends on us, the perfection of the great state of which
God is the monarch. And although the evil is in fact redressed by the wisdom of the
sovereign Lord this is partly through our punishment. Universal justice is distinguished
by the supreme precept - honeste (hoc est probe, pie) vivere; as suum cuique tribuere
conforms to particular justice, whether in general or taken more narrowly as the
distributive justice which distinguishes men in particular; and as neminem laedere
stands for commutative justice or for jus strictum as opposed to equity, as one takes
these terms.14
It is true that Aristotle has recognized this universal justice, though he has not
related it to God; even so, I find it beautiful that he had so lofty an ideaY But a
well-formed government or state takes the place of God on earth for him, and this
government will do what it can to require men to be virtuous. But as I have already
said, one cannot compel men to be always virtuous by the principle solely of self-
interest in this life; even less can one find the rare secret of lifting them up so that virtue
constitutes their greatest pleasure, in the way I have just finished describing. Aristotle
seems to have hoped for this rather than shown it. Yet I do not find it impossible
that there should be times and places where one attains this, especially if piety is
added.
We can still distinguish jus strictum, equity, and piety when we are considering the
right of sovereigns and of peoples. Hobbes and Filmer seem to have considered only
jus strictum. 16 The Roman jurisconsults also sometimes adhere to this level of right
alone. It can even be said that piety and equity regularly demand the jus strictum
when they do not supply an exception to it. In insisting upon jus strictum, however,
one must always add, 'except for the demands of equity and of piety.' Otherwise the
proverb would hold: summum jus summa est injuria. 17
In examining the jus strictum, it is important to consider the origin of kingdoms or
states. Hobbes seems to think that men were something like beasts at first and became
more tractable little by little but that, as long as they were free, they were in a state of
war of all against all and thus had no jus strictum, since each had a right in everything
and was able, without injustice, to seize the possessions of his neighbor as he saw fit.
For there was then no security or judge, and anyone had the right to forestall those
whom one had grounds to fear greatly. But as this state of crude nature was a state
of misery, men agreed upon the means to secure their safety, transferring their right
to judge to the person of the state, represented by an individual or by some assembly. I 8
However, Hobbes acknowledges somewhere that a man has not, for this reason,lost
the right to judge what is most agreeable to him and that a criminal is allowed to do
what he can to save himself. But the citizens of a state must submit to the judgment
of the state. 19 The same author must also recognize, however, that these same citizens,
who have not lost their power of judgment, also cannot let their own safety be en-
dangered in some situation where many of them are mistreated. 20 So in the end, in
spite of what Hobbes says, each one has retained his right and his liberty regardless
of the transfer to the state, and this transfer will be provisional and limited, that is,
it will take place to the degree that we believe our safety is involved. The reasons
which this illustrious author gives to prevent subjects from resisting their sovereign
are nothing but plausible considerations based on the true principle that ordinarily
such a remedy is worse than the evil itself. But what is ordinarily the case is not ab-
solutely so. The one is like the jus strictum, the other like equity.
It seems to me also that this author makes the mistake of confusing right with its
factual application. A man who has acquired a good, who has built a house or forged

a sword, is the proprietary master of it, although someone else, in time of war, has
the right to drive him from his house and to take away his sword. And although
there are cases where one cannot enjoy his right for want of a judge and of enforcement,
the right does not cease to subsist. To try to destroy something because there is no
way at once to prove it and to enjoy it is to confuse matters.
Mr. Filmer seems to me to have recognized rightly that there is a right, even a jus
strictum, before the foundation of states. Whoever produces something new or gains
possession of something already existing but which no one has possessed before, and
improves and adapts it to his use, cannot as a rule be deprived of it without injustice.
This is also true if one acquires a thing from such an owner, either directly or through
intermediates. The right of acquisition is a jus strictum which even equity approves.
Hobbes believes that by virtue of this right children are the property of their mother
unless society orders differently,.and Filmer, assuming the superiority of the father, gives
him the right of property over his children as well as over the children of his slaves.
Since all men from the beginning until now are, according to sacred history, descended
from Adam and also from Noah, it follows, according to Filmer, that if Noah were
living, he would have the right of an absolute monarch over all men. In his absence
fathers always are, or should be, the sovereign masters of their descendants. This
paternal power is the origin of kings, who replace progenitors, in the last analysis,
either by force or by consent. And since the power of fathers is absolute, that of kings
is absolute also.
This conception ought not entirely to be condemned, but I think we can say that it
has been pushed too far. We must admit that a father or a mother acquires a great
power over children by their procreation and education. But I do not think that we
can conclude from this that children are the property of their progenitors, as are the
horses or dogs which are born to us and the works which we create. The objection
may be raised that we can acquire slaves and that the children of slaves are also slaves.
And according to the law of nations, slaves are the property of their masters, and
no reason can be seen why children whom we have produced and nurtured by education
should not be our slaves by an even juster title than those whom we have bought or
captured.
To this I reply that even if I were to agree that there is a right of slavery among
men which conforms to natural reason, and that according to jus strictum the bodies
of slaves and their infants are under the power of their masters, it will always be true
that another stronger right opposes the abuse of this one. This is the right of reasonable
souls, which are naturally and inalienably free. It is the Law of God who is the sov-
ereign master of bodies and souls and under whom masters are the fellow-citizens of
their slaves, since slaves have the right of citizenship in the kingdom of God as well as
their masters. So it can be said that a man's body is the property of his soul and ought not
to be taken from him as long as he lives. Since a man's soul cannot be acquired,
neither can ownership of his body be acquired, so that the right of a master over his
slave can be in the nature only of what is called servitude to another, or a kind of
usufruct. But usufruct has its limits; it must be practiced without destroying itself,
salva re, so that this right cannot be extended to the point of making a slave evil or
unhappy. But even if I were to agree, contrary to the nature of things, that an enslaved
man is the property of another man, the right of the master, however rigorous, would
be limited by equity, which demands that one man shall care for another as he would
wish another to care for himself in a similar situation, and by charity, which orders us
to work for the happiness of others. And these obligations are perfected by piety, that
is, by what we owe to God. If we wished to stop with jus strictum alone, the American
cannibals would have a right to eat their prisoners. There are those among them who
demand even more; they use their prisoners to have children, then fatten and eat the
children, and afterward, when she produces no more, the mother. Such are the con-
sequences of a pretended right of masters over slaves and of fathers over children ....
REFERENCES
1 Republic 338c If. Note the change in Leibniz's opinion since 1666 (No.1, n, when he
applied Hobbes's theory of justice to God.
2 De cive xv. 5.
3 Ibid., 16.
4 "In a free state the passing of wind and belching should be free." The ruling of Claudius is
reported by Suetonius, chap. 32; Leibniz's bit of vulgarity is of a kind which Sophia seems to
have enjoyed.
5 This reaffirms the position taken in the Mainz period around 1670 (No.7, I).
6 See No. 44, I, above.
7 "What you do not wish to have done to you." This is the Golden Rule in its negativeformul-
ation(cf. Matt. 7:12; Luke 6:31).
8 Leibniz's method of reasoning is an application of his law of continuity to cases of justice,
arranged from the narrowest legal concept (neminem laedere) in a continuous scale to the
highest religious demands. Hence his device of seeking middle cases between the given cases,
in which there may be disagreement; this approximates the method which he employed, for
example, in his criticism of Descartes's laws of motion (No. 42).
9 "What you do not wish to have done to you (or what you do wish to have done to you), do
not do to others (or do not deny to others)". The advance of the argument beyond the negative
statement in note 7 above is obvious.
10 "Man is a god to man; man is a wolf to man." Symmachus Epistle ix, 114; Plautus Asin.
ii, 4. 90.
11 According to Suetonius, chap. 30; Euripides' original lines are in the Phoenissae v. 524--25.
Way translates, "If wrong e'er be right, for a throne's sake were wrong most right."
12 De officiis iii. 6.17.
13 This flattering example is obviously addressed to the Electress Sophia, for the three queens
are those in whom that ambitious sovereign might well be most interested - her mother, the
English rulel' to whose throne her own right had been established, and her daughter, the
Queen of Prussia.
14 See p.430, note 4 for the source of these maxims: "To live honorably (Le., uprightly,
piously), to give to each his due, to injure no one."
15 Nic. Ethics v.I. 19.
16 Robert Filmer's Patriarchia. or the Natural Power of Kings, derived royal sovereignty from
patriarchal authority. His theory evoked Locke's Treatises on Government (1689).
17 "The more law, the more injustice." Cicero (De officiis i. 10.33) has summum ius, summa
iniuria.
18 De cive ii, 5.
19 Leviathan, chap. 21.
20 Ibid., chap. 29.
60
REPLY TO THE THOUGHTS ON THE SYSTEM OF

PREESTABLISHED HARMONY CONTAINED IN THE SECOND
EDITION OF MR. BAYLE'S CRITICAL
DICTIONARY, ARTICLE RORARIUS
1702
The second edition of the Dictionnaire historique et critique appeared in 1702, with an
additional criticism of Leibniz's system attached as note L to the article on 'Rorarius'.
The reply which Leibniz prepared the same year was sent to John Bernoulli and De Voider
on August 19 and forwarded by the latter to Bayle, who returned it to Leibniz along
with a letter now lost. Leibniz published his paper in Masson's Histoire critique de la
republique des lettres in 1702 with the title given above. Leibniz's position is the same
as that of the De Voider correspondence but directed to the explanation of body-and-soul
processes; the reconciliation of mechanism and 'idealism' (this term itself appears) is
particularly clear.
[G., IV, 554--71]
In June and July, 1695, I had published in the Journal des savants of Paris several
essays on a new system which seemed to me adapted to explain the union of soul and
body.1 Instead of the Scholastics' theory of influence and the Cartesians' theory of
assistance, I have there made use of the theory of pre-established harmony. Mr. Bayle,
who is able to impart to the most abstract meditations the charm which they need to
attract the attention of readers, but who at the same time penetrates to their depths
and brings them into clear light, took the pains to enrich this system by the comments
which he inserted in his Dictionary in the article on Rorarius. But since he at the same
time also discussed some difficulties which he held to be in need of clarification, I
tried to do justice to these in the Histoire des ouvrages des savants for July, 1698. 2
To this Mr. Bayle has just replied in the second edition of his Dictionary, in the same
article on Rorarius, page 2610, note L. He says, most honorably, that my replies have
strengthened my position and that if the possibility of the hypothesis of pre-established
harmony were well established, he would find no difficulty in preferring it to the
Cartesian hypothesis, because it gives a noble idea of the Author of things and removes
every concept of miraculous guidance in the ordinary course of nature.
He still seems to find it difficult, however, to conceive that this pre-established
harmony is possible. To show this, he begins with something which, in his opinion,
is easier but which will nonetheless be found very implausible. He compares my
hypothesis, namely, with the assumption of a ship which arrives at a desired port all
by itself without any guidance. On this he says that we must admit that the infinity
of God is not too great to communicate such a faculty to a ship. He does not assert
absolutely that the thing is impossible, yet he does judge that others will so consider
it, for "you yourself will admit [he adds] that the nature of a ship is incapable of
receiving this particular faculty from God". Perhaps he believes that according to the
hypothesis in question, we must think of God giving the ship, for this result, a faculty
in the Scholastic sense, like that which the Schools ascribed to heavy bodies to draw
them toward the center. If it is in this sense that he understands the doctrine, I am the
first to reject this assumption. But if he means a faculty of the ship which can be
explained by the laws of mechanics and by internal forces as well as by external cir-
cumstances, and still rejects this assumption as impossible, I should like him to give
some reason for this judgment. For though I have no need of the possibility of some-
thing entirely resembling this ship in the way in which Mr. Bayle seems to think of
it (as I shall show later), I still believe that when things are well considered, there is
not only no difficulty involved from God's viewpoint, but it seems that there could
even be a finite spirit skilful enough to bring this about. There is no doubt whatever
that a man could make a machine capable of walking about for some time through a
city and of turning exactly at the corners of certain streets. A spirit incomparably
more perfect, though still finite, could also foresee and avoid an incomparably greater
number of obstacles. This is so true that if this world were nothing but a composite
of a finite number of atoms which move in accordance with the laws of mechanics, as
the hypothesis of some thinkers holds, it is certain that a finite spirit could be so
enlightened as to understand and to foresee demonstratively everything which would
occur in a determinate time, so that this spirit not only could construct a ship capable
of sailing by itself to a designated port, by giving it the needed route, direction, and
force at the start, but could also form a body capable of counterfeiting a man. For
this involves merely a matter of more or less, which does not alter matters in the
realm of possibilities. However great may be the number of functions of a machine,
the power and skill of the builder could increase proportionately in such a way that not to
see this possibility would be to give insufficient consideration to the degrees of things.
It is true that the world is not compounded of a finite number of atoms but is rather
like a machine composed in each of its parts of a truly infinite number of forces.
But it is also true that he who made it and who governs it has an even more infinite
perfection, because it comes from an infinity of possible worlds which are in his under-
standing and from which he has chosen that which pleased him. To return to limited
spirits, however, we can judge from the small examples which sometimes occur among
us how far those which we do not know may extend their powers. For example,
there are men capable of carrying out great arithmetical calculations at once and
solely by thinking. M. de Monconis mentions such a man in Italy in his day, and there
is now one in Sweden who never learned even the ordinary arithmetic, and whom,
I hope, they will not neglect to sound out concerning his mode of procedure. And
what is man, however excellent he is capable of being, in comparison with all the
many possible, or even existing, creatures such as angels or genii, who could surpass
us in every kind of understanding and reasoning incomparably more than these
wonderful possessors of a natural arithmetic surpass us in the matter of numbers?
I admit that people do not commonly consider these matters; they are confused
by objections when they have to think of what is unusual or even of that of which we
have no instance. But when we think of the greatness and variety of the universe, we
judge entirely differently about it. Mr. Bayle especially cannot fail to see the justice
of these conclusions. It is true that my hypothesis does not depend upon them, as I

will show directly, but even if it did, and if one were right in saying that it is even
more surprising than the hypothesis of automata (of which, as I shall show below,
it carries forward only the good parts and what is sound), I should not be disturbed,
granted that there were no other method of explaining things in conformity to the
laws of nature. For in these matters we ought not to be guided by popular concepts
to the injury of conclusions that are certain. Besides, the objection which a philosopher
should make against automata does not lie in the wonderfulness of the assumption
but in the failure of principles, since entelechies are necessary everywhere, and we
hold a small idea of the Author of nature (who multiplies his little worlds or his active
indivisible mirrors as much as he can) when we give them only to human bodies. It
is even impossible for them not to be everywhere.
So far we have spoken only of what a limited substance can do; in reference to
God the matter is entirely different. Far from that which at first seemed impossible
really being so, in his case we must rather say that it is impossible for God to have
used any other way, being as he is infinitely powerful and wise and in everything
preserving as much order and harmony as is possible. What is more, though this
seems so strange when considered by itself, it is a certain consequence of the constitu-
tion of things, so that the universal wonder, so to speak, destroys and absorbs the
particular wonder, since it provides a reason for it. For everything is so controlled
and bound together that these infallible machines of nature, which are comparable
to ships that would arrive at port by themselves in spite of all obstacles and storms,
ought not to be considered any stranger than a rocket which glides along a string or
a liquid which runs through a tube. Furthermore, since bodies are not atoms but are
divisible, and are indeed divided to infinity, and everything is full of them, it follows
that the very smallest body receives some impression from the slightest change in all
the others, however distant and small they may be, and must thus be an exact mirror
of the universe. The result is that a sufficiently penetrating spirit could, in the measure
of his penetration, see and foresee in each corpuscle everything which has happened
and will happen in that corpuscle and everything which has happened and will happen
everywhere both within and outside of the corpuscle. So nothing happens to it, not
even by the impact of surrounding bodies, which does not follow from what is already
internal to it and which can disturb its order. This is still more obvious in the simple
substances or in the active principles themselves, which I follow Aristotle in calling
primitive entelechies, and which nothing can disturb, in my opinion. This is my reply
to a marginal note of Mr. Bayle (p. 2612, b) in which he makes the objection that
since an organic body is
composed of many substances, each of which has a principle of action that is really distinct
from the principle of each of the others, and since the action of each principle is spontaneous,
this should vary the effects unto infinity. And the impact of neighboring bodies should add
some constraint to the natural spontaneity of each.
But we must take into consideration the fact that each one has already been adapted
to every other one from all time and responds to what the others demand of it. Thus
there is no constraint in substances, except externally and in appearance. This is so
true that the motion of any point whatever in the world takes place in a line strictly
determined in nature, which this point has taken once for all and which nothing can
ever make it abandon.
This is the most exact and clear explanation which I can give, I believe, for those who
are geometrically minded, although these kinds of curves infinitely exceed those which
a finite mind can grasp. It is true that if there could be but this one point in the world,
its line would be straight, but that now it is the result, by virtue of the laws of mechanics,
of the concourse of all bodies; it is also by this very concourse that it is pre-established.
Thus I acknowledge that the spontaneity is not properly to be found in the mass
(short of the universe in its entirety, to which there is no resistance). For if this
point could begin to be by itself, it would continue, not in the pre-established curve,
but in the straight line tangent to it. So it is properly in the entelechy, of which this
point is the point of view, that spontaneity is found. And while the point can have by
itself only a tendency to move in a line tangent to this curve, because it has no memory
or presentiment, so to speak, the entelechy expresses the pre-established curve itself,
since the surrounding bodies cannot have any influence upon this soul or entelechy,
so that in this sense there can be no violence with respect to it. What is commonly
called violence, however, does occur insofar as this soul has confused, and therefore
involuntary, perceptions. 3
All this shows, finally, that the wonders of a ship which guides itself to port without
a pilot, or of a machine which carries out the functions of man without having
intelligence, and who knows what other fictions which can be presented in objection
to my view and which make my assumptions appear absurd when considered separately,
offer no more difficulties. It shows too that when we recognize that things are de-
termined or inclined to what they ought to do, all the strangeness found in my view
completely disappears. Everything which ambition or any other passion makes the
soul of Caesar do is represented in his body as well, and the movements of these pas-
sions all come from impressions of objects joined to internal movements. The body
is made in such a way that the soul never makes any resolutions to which the move-
ments of the body do not correspond; even the most abstract reasonings play their
part in this by means of the characters which represent them to the imagination. In a
word, so far as the details of phenomena are concerned, everything takes place in the
body as if the evil doctrine of those who believe, with Epicurus and Hobbes, that the
soul is material were true, or as if man himself were only a body or an automaton.
These materialists have thus extended to man as well what the Cartesians have held
regarding all other animals, having shown in fact that nothing is done by man, with
his whole reason, which is not a play of images, passions, and motions in the body.
Those who have tried to prove the contrary have, by persisting in this bias, merely
dishonored themselves and prepared the basis for error to triumph. The Cartesians
have had poor success (a little like Epicurus with his declination of atoms, which
Cicero so ably ridiculed) in trying to maintain that the soul cannot give motion to the
body but that it can nevertheless give it its direction. But neither the one nor the other
can or ought to take place, and the materialists have no need to resort to this, so that
nothing which appears outside of man may succeed in refuting their teaching. This
suffices to establish a part of my hypothesis. Those who point out to the Cartesians
that their way of proving that beasts are only automatons tends at length to support
the view that it is possible, metaphysically speaking, for all other men except them-
selves also to be simple automatons, have said exactly and precisely what I need in
order to prove the half of my hypothesis which concerns the body. But in addition to
the general principles which establish the monads of which compound things are

merely the results, internal experience refutes the Epicurean doctrine. This experience
is the consciousness within us of this Ego which perceives the things occurring in the
body. And since this perception cannot be explained by figures and movements, it estab-
lishes the other half of my hypothesis and makes us recognize an indivisible substance
in ourselves which must itself be the source of its phenomena. According to this
second half of my hypothesis, therefore, everything occurs in the soul as if there were
no body,just as everything occurs in the body as if there were no soul, according to
the first half. And reason makes us conclude that other men have the same prerogative
as we. Besides, I have frequently shown with regard to bodies themselves that although
there are mechanical reasons for the details of phenomena, the final analysis of the
laws of mechanics and the nature of substances compels us to resort to active indivisible
principles. And the wonderful order which prevails here shows us that there is a
universal principle whose intelligence is supreme as well as his power. Since it seems
from this that there is something good and sound in the false and evil teaching of
Epicurus, to the effect that there is no need to say that the soul changes the impulses
of the body, we can readily conclude also that it is just as unnecessary to assume that
the material mass sends thoughts to the soul through the influence of some unknown
kind of chimerical 'species' such as is proposed by the Scholastics, or that God must
always be the interpreter of the body to the soul, any more than he needs always to
interpret the decisions of the soul to the body, as the Cartesians have held. The pre-
established harmony is a good interpreter of each to the other. This shows that our
view combines what is good in the hypothesis of both Epicurus and Plato, of both
the greatest materialists and the greatest idealists, and that there is nothing surprising
here except only the supreme perfection of the ruling principle, which is now shown
in its works to be far above all that we have believed until now. What wonder, then,
that everything goes well and with precision, since all things work together and lead
each other by the hand, if we first assume that the whole has been perfectly thought
out. It would rather be the greatest of all wonders or better, the strangest of absurdi-
ties, if this vessel, designed to go so well, if this machine whose route has been plotted
for all time, should fail in spite of the measures which God has taken. Our hypothesis
with respect to corporeal mass should therefore not be compared to a vessel which
brings itself to port but to the ferry boats which are attached to a cable across the
river. It is like the theatrical machines and fireworks whose regularity we no longer
find strange when we know how everything is done. It is time to transfer our admiration
from the work to its inventor, just as we now see that the planets do not need to be
guided by intelligences.
So far we have discussed almost nothing but the criticisms concerned with body or
matter, and there remains no further difficulty that has been raised than that of the
miracles, however beautiful, orderly, and universal they may be, which must occur in
bodies in order that they may be in agreement with each other and with souls. In my
opinion tlus should be understood as a proof rather than as an objection, at least by
those persons who esteem as they ought "the power and the intelligence of the divine
art", to quote Mr. Bayle, who also admits "that one can imagine nothing which gives
a nobler idea of the intelligence and the power of the Author of all things".
Now we must come to the soul, where Mr. Bayle still finds difficulties, even after
my efforts to resolve his first ones. He begins by comparing this soul, alone and
taken by itself, receiving nothing from without, with an atom of Epicurus surrounded
by the void. And I do in fact regard souls, or rather monads, as the atoms of substance,
since there are no material atoms in nature according to my view, and the smallest
particle of matter still has parts. Since an atom such as Epicurus imagined has a
moving force which gives it a certain direction, it will carry out this direction without
hindrance and uniformly if it encounters no other atom. So it seems to Mr. Bayle that
the soul also, being of a nature such that nothing from without can change it, should
always retain a feeling of pleasure once it has felt it. For while the entire cause re-
mains, the effect must always remain. If I protest that the soul must be considered as
in a state of change, so that the entire cause does not remain, Mr. Bayle will reply
that this change should be like the change of an atom which moves continuously in
the same straight line at a uniform speed. And if he were to agree to the transformation
of thoughts (so he says), it would at least be necessary for the passage which I maintain
exists from one thought to another to contain some reason for the connection. I am
in agreement with the basis of these objections, and I myself use them to explain my
system. The state of the soul, like that of the atom, is a state of change. a tendency.
The atom tends to change its place, the soul to change its thoughts; each changes by
itself in the simplest and most uniform way which its state permits. Then how does
it come, I will be asked, that there is such simplicity in the change of the atom, and
such variety in the changes of the soul? It is because the atom (as it is assumed to be,
although there is no such thing in nature), though it has parts, has nothing which
causes some variety in its tendency, because we assume that its parts do not change
their relations. The soul, on the other hand, though entirely indivisible, involves a
composite tendency, that is to say, a multitude of present thoughts, each of which
tends to a particular change according to what it involves and what is found in it at
the time by virtue of its essential relationship to all the other things in the world.
Among other things, it is also their lack of this relationship which bans the atoms of
Epicurus from nature. For each thing or part of the universe must point to all the
rest, in such a way that the soul, as concerns the variety of its modifications, must be
compared, not with a material atom, but with the universe which it represents ac-
cording to its point of view - and in some ways even with God himself, whose infinity it
represents finitely because of its confused and imperfect perception of the infinite.
The thought of pleasure seems to be simple, but it is not, and anyone who studies
its anatomy will find that it involves everything that surrounds us and therefore every-
thing which surrounds our environment. And the reason for the change of thoughts
in the soul is the same as that of the change of things in the universe which it represents.
The mechanical reasons which are developed in the bodies are united and concentrated,
so to speak, in the souls or entelechies; indeed, they have their source there. It is true
that not all the entelechies are, like our soul, images of God, for they are not all made
to be members of a society or of a state of which he is the head. But they are always
images of the universe. They are after their manner worlds in abridged form, fruitful
simplicities, substantial unities, but virtually infinite by the multitude of their modifica-
tions, centers which express an infinite circumference; and they are necessarily so,
as I once explained them in letters exchanged with Mr. Arnauld. 4 Their duration
cannot embarrass anyone any more than the duration of the atoms of Gassendi's
followers. For the rest, it is often but a step from pleasure to pain, as Socrates observed
in Plato's Phaedo in speaking of a man scratching himself; "grief occupies the extremes
of joy" [extrema gaudii luctus occupat]. 5 So one need not be surprised at this transition;
Far references see p. 585

pleasure seems sometimes to be only a composite of little perceptions, each of which

would be a grief if it were great.
Mr. Bayle has already acknowledged that I have tried to reply to a good part of
his criticisms and admits also that in the system of occasional causes it is necessary
for God to be the executor of his own laws, whereas in my system the soul does this.
But he objects that the soul has no instruments for such execution. I reply, as I have
replied, that it does; they are the present thoughts from which future thoughts are
born, and one can say that in the soul, as indeed everywhere, the present is great with
the future. I believe that Mr. Bayle will agree, and all philosophers with him, that our
thoughts are never simple and that with regard to certain thoughts the soul has the
power to pass by itself from one to the other, as when it goes from premises to the
conclusion or from the end to the means. Even Father Malebranche agrees that the
soul has internal voluntary actions. What reason, then, to deny that this is the case
in all our thoughts? Perhaps because it is believed that confused thoughts are entirely
different in kind from distinct ones, whereas they are merely less distinguishable
and less developed because of their multiplicity. The result is that certain movements,
rightly called involuntary, have been ascribed to the body in such a way that
nothing is believed to correspond to them in the soul; and reciprocally, it is believed
that certain abstract thoughts are not represented at all in the body. But there is an
error in both of these views, as usually happens in such distinctions, because we notice
only what is most apparent. The most abstract thoughts are in need of some sense
perception. And when we consider what these confused thoughts are which are never
absent from even the most distinct thoughts which we can have - as, for example,
those of colors, odors, tastes, heat, cold, etc. - we recognize that they always involve
the infinite and not only that which takes place in our body but also, by means of it,
that which happens outside of it. Thus they serve our purpose here even better than
would the legion of substances of which Mr. Bayle speaks as an instrument which
seems necessary for the functions which I have given to the soul. It is true that the
soul has these legions at its service, but not inside itself. For there is no soul or entelechy
which is not dominant with respect to an infinity of others which enter into its organs,
and the soul is never without an organic body which fits its present state. It is therefore
these present perceptions, along with their regulated tendency to change in conformity
to what is outside, which form the musical score which the soul reads. "But", says
Mr. Bayle, "must not the soul recognize the sequence of the notes (distinctly), and so
actually think of them?" I answer 'No'; it suffices that the soul has included them in
its confused thoughts in the same way that it has a thousand things in its memory
without thinking of them distinctly. Otherwise every entelechy would be God, if it
were distinctly conscious of the whole infinite which it includes. For God expresses
everything perfectly all at once - possible and existent, past, present, and future. He
is the universal source of all, and the created monads imitate him as much as it is
possible for created beings to do so. He has made them sources of their phenomena,
which contain relationships to everything, more or less distinct according to the degrees
of perfection which the individual substances contain. Where then is the impossibility?
It seems rather that it would have to be this way in order that creatures may be made
to approach God as nearly as is reasonably possible. I should like to see some positive
argument pointing to a contradiction or to a conflict with some known truth. To say
that the view is surprising is no objection. On the contrary, everyone who recognizes
immaterial and indivisible substances also attributes to them a multitude of simulta-

neous perceptions and a spontaneity in their reasoning and their voluntary acts.
Thus lam only extending this spontaneity to confused and involuntary thoughts too and
showing that it is their nature to include relations to everything outside of them. How
prove that this cannot be, or that everything that is in us must necessarily be known dis-
tinctly by us? Is it not true that we cannot always remember even what we know, and then
all of a sudden come upon it by a small chance reminiscence? And what a variety of
matters we can carry in the soul, even when we are unable to discover them quickly.
Otherwise the soul would be a God, whereas it must suffice for it to be a little world.
But this world is found to be as imperturbable as the great world, when we consider
that there is spontaneity in the confused as well as in the distinct. In another sense,
however, we are justified in speaking, as did the ancients, of that which consists of
confused thoughts, where there is an element of the involuntary and unknown, as
perturbations or passions. Hence the common usage is not wrong in speaking of a
conflict between body and spirit, since our confused thoughts represent the body or
the flesh and constitute our imperfection.
After having recorded this answer, which I have already given in substance - that
confused perceptions include all external things and contain an infinity of relations -
Mr. Bayle does not refute it. He says instead that "when this hypothesis is well
developed, it is the true means of solving all the difficulties", and he honors me by
saying that he hopes that I will thoroughly solve his own. Even if he had said this
only out of politeness, I should have spared no efforts to do so, and I believe I have
overlooked none of his questions; if I have neglected anything without trying to offer
a solution, it is because I have been unable to see where the difficulty lay which he
sought to raise. It is this which sometimes gives me the greatest trouble in my reply.
I should like to see why he thinks that this multitude of perceptions which I assume
in an indivisible substance is impossible. For I believe that it would be permissible to
assume them even if our experience and common opinion did not make us recognize
a great variety in our soul. It is no proof of the impossibility of a matter merely to say
that one cannot understand this thing or that without pointing out wherein it violates
reason, and when the difficulty is only in sense perception, and there is none in the
understanding.
It is a pleasure to have to do with an opponent who is at once as just and as profound
as Mr. Bayle, who is so fair that he often foresees my replies. This he has done in
observing that my opinion, that the primitive constitution of each spirit is different
from that of all the others, cannot seem any more extraordinary than what the Thomists
hold, following their master, concerning the specific differences among all separate
intelligences. I am happy to agree with him in this, for I have somewhere cited this
same authority.6 It is true that, consistent with my own definition of a species, I do
not call this difference specific, for since I believe that no two individuals ever resemble
each other perfectly, I should have to say that no two individuals belong to the same
species, which would not be accurate. I regret that I have not yet been able to see the
objection which Dom Francis Lami made, as Mr. Bayle informs me, in his second
treatise On the Cognition of Self (ed. 1699)7, or I should also be replying to them.
Mr. Bayle has explicitly sought to spare me all the objections common to my system
and other; for this too I am indebted to him. I shall only say that as concerns the
force given to creatures, I think I have replied, in the Leipzig journal for September

1698, to all the objections contained in a memoir which a scholarly man published in
the same journal in 1697, and which Mr. Bayle cites in the margin, letter S.8 I think
I have even demonstrated there that without an active force in the body there would
be no variety in phenomena, which amounts to the same thing as there being nothing
at all. It is true that my learned adversary replied to this (May, 1699), but he really
only further explained his own opinion without adequately touching upon the reasons
which I opposed to it. As a result, he did not remember to reply to this demonstration,
especially since he considered it futile to tty to arrive at an agreement or to clarify
this matter further; he even regarded it as capable of injuring our mutual understanding.
I admit that this is commonly the result of such debates, but there are exceptions,
and this discussion between Mr. Bayle and myself seems to be of another kind. For
my part, I try always to take proper measures to preserve moderation and to push
forward the clarification of problems, so that the dispute will not only be harmless
but may even become fruitful. I do not know if I have achieved this last aim, but
although I cannot flatter myself to give entire satisfaction to a mind as penetrating
as Mr. Bayle's in a matter as difficult as the present one, I shall always be content
if he finds that I have made some progress in so important an investigation.
I have been unable to prevent myself from renewing the pleasure I once had in
reading, with particular attention, a number of articles from his excellent and rich
Dictionary, among others those concerned with philosophy, like the articles on the
Paulicians, Origen, Pereira, Rorarius, Spinoza, and Zeno. I was surprised anew at
the fecundity, force, and brilliance of his thoughts. No ancient academician, not even
Carneades, could have brought out the difficulties better. Although Mr. Foucher was
most able in such studies 9, he does not approach these, and I myself find nothing
in the world more useful in solving these same old difficulties. It is this that pleases
me so in the criticisms of able and moderate persons, for I feel that they give me
new powers, like Antaeus hurled to earth in the fable. If I speak with some confidence,
it is because my own views have become fixed only after my considering all sides and
weighing them well, so that I can perhaps say, without vanity, omnia praecepi atque
animo mecum peregi. 10 But criticisms put me back on the track and save me much
trouble, for it is no small matter to have to retrace all the bypaths to anticipate and
foresee everything that others may find to criticize, inasmuch as our points of view
and inclinations are so different that there have been very penetrating persons who
have accepted my hypothesis from the start and even urged it upon others, while
other very able men have pointed out to me that they have in fact already held this
view, and still others have even said that they understand the hypothesis of occasional
causes in this same sense and cannot distinguish it from mine, which well satisfies me.
But I am no less pleased when I see someone set out to examine it as it should be
done.
To say something about the articles of Mr. Bayle which I have just mentioned and
whose subject matter has many connections with this question, it seems that the reason
for permitting evil rests in the eternal possibilities, in accordance with which this
kind of universe which allows evil and has admitted it to actual existence is found
to be more perfect, considering the whole, than all other possible kinds. But we go
astray in trying to show in detail the value of evil in revealing the good, as the Stoics
do - a value which St. Augustine has well recognized in general, and according to
which we step back, so to speak, in order to leap forward better.ll For can we enter
into the infinite particulars of the universal harmony? If it were necessary, however,
to choose reasonably between the two, I should always favor the Origenists and never
the Manichees. 12 It does not seem necessary to me to deny action or force to creatures
on the pretext that they would be creators if they produced their modifications. For
it is God who conserves and continuously creates their forces, that is, who establishes
a source of changing modifications in the creatures, or a state by which we can conclude
that there will be a change of their modifications. Otherwise I find, as I have shown
in the work cited above, that God would produce nothing and that there would be
no substances beyond his own - a view which would lead us back into all the ab-
surdities of Spinoza's God. It also seems to me that Spinoza's error comes entirely
from his having pushed too far the consequences of the doctrine which denies force
and action to creatures.
I acknowledge that time, extension, motion, and the continuum in general, as we
understand them in mathematics, are only ideal things - that is, they express pos-
sibilities, just as do numbers. Even Hobbes has defined space as a phantasm of the
existent. But to speak more accurately, extension is the order of possible coexistence,
just as time is the order of possibilities that are inconsistent but nevertheless have a
connection. Thus the former considers simultaneous things or those which exist
together, the latter those which are incompatible but which we nevertheless conceive
as all existing; it is this which makes them successive. But space and time taken to-
gether constitute the order of possibilities of the one entire universe, so that these
orders - space and time, that is - relate not only to what actually is but also to any-
thing that could be put in its place, just as numbers are indifferent to the things which
can be enumerated. This inclusion of the possible with the existent makes a continuity
which is uniform and indifferent to every division. It is true that perfectly uniform
change, such as the mathematical idea of motion, is never found in nature any more
then are actual figures which possess in full force the properties which we learn in
geometry, because the actual world does not remain in this indifference of possibilities
but arises from the actual divisions or pluralities whose results are the phenomena
which are presented in practice and which differ from each other down to their
smallest parts. Yet the actual phenomena of nature are arranged, and must be, in
such a way that nothing ever happens which violates the law of continuity, which I
introduced into philosophy and first mentioned in Mr. Bayle's Nouvelles de la re-
pub/ique des lettres 13, or any of the other most exact rules of mathematics. On the
contrary, things can be rendered intelligible only by these rules, for they alone are
capable, along with the rules of harmony or perfection which the true metaphysics
provides, of leading us to the reasons and intentions of the Author of things. The
result of this very great multitude of infinite compositions is that we are finally lost
and are forced to stop in our application of metaphysical principles, and of mathe-
matical ones as well, to physics. Yet these applications are never in error, and when
a miscalculation appears after an exact chain of inference, it is because we cannot
adequately examine the facts and because there is an imperfection in our assumption.
We are even more able to advance in this application to the degree that we are able
to make use of our thoughts of infinity, as our newest methods have shown us. Although
mathematical thinking is ideal, therefore, this does not diminish its utility, because
actual things cannot escape its rules. In fact, we can say that the reality of phenomena,
which distinguishes them from dreams, consists in this fact. However, mathematicians

do not need all these metaphysical discussions, nor need they embarrass themselves
about the real existence of points, indivisibles, infinitesimals, and infinites in any
rigorous sense. In my reply to a notice in the Memoires de Trevoux for May and
June, 1701, which Mr. Bayle cites in the article on Zeno, I pointed this out, and in the
same year I suggested that the mathematicians' demand for rigor in their demonstra-
tions will be satisfied if we assume, instead of infinitely small sizes, sizes as small as are
needed to show that the error is less than that which any opponent can assign, and
consequently that no error can be assigned at all. 14 So even if the exact infinitesimals
which end the decreasing series of assigned sizes were like imaginary roots, this
would not at all injure the infinitesimal calculus, or the calculus of differences and sums,
which I have proposed and which excellent mathematicians have cultivated so fruit-
fully. Error is impossible in this calculus except through a failure to understand it, or
a false application, because it contains its own demonstration. It was later acknow-
ledged in the Journal de Trevoux, in the same place, that the objections which had
been raised before do not apply to my explanation. It was still maintained, it is true,
that these objections do apply to the calculus of the Marquis de I'Hospital, but I
believe that he has no more desire than I to burden geometry with metaphysical
problems.
I almost laughed at the airs which the Chevalier de Mere gave himself in the letter
to Pascal which Mr. Bayle describes in the same article. But I can see that the chevalier
knew that this great genius had his imperfections, which sometimes made him too
susceptible to extreme spiritualistic impressions and even made him disgusted at
intervals with sound knowledge. The same thing has since happened to Steno and
Swammerdam, but without any restoration, because they failed to combine the true
metaphysics with physics and mathematics. 1s De Mere took advantage of this fact
to talk down to Pascal. It seems to me he was talking a little too frivolously, as is
common with people of the world who have much spirit but mediocre knowledge.
They try to convince us that what they do not fully understand is of slight importance;
they should be sent to school with Mr. Roberval. Yet it is true that the chevalier had
an unusual talent, especially for mathematics, and I have learned from Mr. des BiI-
lettes, a friend of Pascal's who excels in mechanics, what the discovery was of which
the chevalier boasts in his letter. Being a great gambler, he made the first ventures
into the calculation of wagers, and it was this that led to the beautiful studies of the
game of hazard [de alea] by Fermat, Pascal, and Huygens which Roberval could not
or would not understand. 16 The Pensionaire de Witt has pushed this study still
further and applied it to other more important uses related to life insurance. Mr.
Huygens told me that Mr. Hudde also had excellent ideas on the problem and that
it is unfortunate that he suppressed these along with so many others. Games themselves
deserve study, and if a penetrating mathematician were to investigate them, he would
find many important truths, for men never show more spirit than when they are jesting.
Let me add in passing that not only Cavalieri and Torricelli, of whom Gassendi
spoke in the passage cited by Mr. Bayle, but also I myself and many others have found
figures of infinite length whose areas are finite. There is nothing more extraordinary
about this than about infinite series, where we find that ~+~+~+ :6 + ;2 +etc.=1.
It may be, however, that the chevalier also experienced some fine enthusiasm which
transported him "into that invisible world and into that infinite extension" of which
he speaks and which I believe to be that of the ideas or forms of which certain Scholas-
tics also speak in raising the question of whether "there is a vacuum of forms". For
he says that "one can here discover the principles of things, the most hidden truths,
the harmonies, the justice, the propositions, the true originals and perfect ideas of
everything that one seeks".
This intelligible world of which the ancients speak so much is in God and in some
way also in us. But what the letter says against division to infinity makes it clear that
its author was still too much of a stranger in this superior world and that the charms
of the visible world of which he wrote did not leave him the time which he needed to
acquire the rights of citizenship in the other. Mr. Bayle is right in saying, with the
ancients, that God uses geometry and that mathematics makes up a part of the
intelligible world and is therefore the more fit to be an entrance into it. But I myself
believe that its interior is something more. I have suggested elsewhere that there is a
calculus more important than those of arithmetic and geometry which depends on
the analysis of ideas. This would be a universal characteristic, and its formation
seems to me one of the most important things that can be undertaken.
REFERENCES
1 See No. 47.

2 See No. 52.
3 Violent action, in the Scholastic sense, is action proceeding not from an internal cause but
from an extraneous source.
4 See No. 36, I; No. 38.
5 Phaedo 60 b,J.
6 See Nos. 30 and 35 (Discourse, Sec. 9); also p. 271, note 7.
7 Fran<;ois Lami had attacked various aspects of the theory of pre-established harmony in
the Connoissance de soy-meme, Paris 1699; Leibniz finally published a partial reply in the
Supplement du Journal des savants in 1709 (G., IV, 572-95).
8 De ipsa natura (No. 53), the reply to John Chr. Sturm.
9 For Simon Foucher see No. 11, and the introduction to No. 47. The allusion is probably
primarily to his Histoire des academiciens (1690). He had died in 1697.
10 "I have anticipated everything and gone through it in my mind."
11 Reculer pour mieux sauter. This is a favorite figure of Leibniz in interpreting the role of evil
in history.
12 In his article on Manicheism, Bayle had formulated a dualistic theory of good and evil;
much of the discussion in the Theodicy later is directed at Bayle's further development of this
position. Jean Ie Clerc, French refugee and editor of the BibliotMque choisie, had replied to the
article on Manicheism in a chapter of his Parrhasiana (1699), putting his answer in the mouth
of an Origenist.
13 See No. 37.
14 See No. 56, II, and GM., V, 350ff.
15 On Steno see No. 23, introduction and p. 220, note 1. John Swammerdam became an
enthusiast and follower of Mme de Bourignon.
16 See No. 49. Most of De Mere's letter to Pascal is reprinted in Bayle's article on Zeno.
61
CONSIDERATIONS ON VITAL PRINCIPLES AND PLASTIC

NATURES, BY THE AUTHOR OF THE SYSTEM
OF PRE-ESTABLISHED HARMONY
1705
This paper was published in the Histoire des ouvrages des savants in May, 1705, in the
form of a letter to Basnage de Beauval, its editor. Leibniz had been asked by Jean Ie
Clerc, editor of the Bibliotheque choisie, to give his opinion, based upon the theory of
pre-established harmony, about the controversy between Bayle and Le Clerc over the
existence of vital principles and plastic natures, such as Cudworth and others had
proposed. 1
[G., VI, 539-46]
Since the dispute which has arisen concerning plastic natures and the principles of life
has given an occasion for well-known persons interested in it to speak of my system,
and it seems that some clarification of it is desired (cf. Bibliotheque choisie, Vol. V,
Art. 5, p. 301, and also Histoire des ouvrages des savants, 1704, Art. 7, p.393), I
consider it fitting to add something to what I have already published on this subject
in various articles in the journals cited by Mr. Bayle in his Dictionary, the article on
Rorarius. I do indeed hold that vital principles are spread throughout all nature and
are immortal, since they are indivisible substances or unities, while bodies are multitudes
subject to destruction through the dissolution of their parts. These vital principles or
souls have perception and appetite. When I am asked if they are substantial forms, I
reply with a distinction. For if this term is taken to mean what Descartes meant in
maintaining against Regis that the rational soul is the substantial form of man, I
agree. 2 But I say 'No' to anyone who takes the term in the sense of those who imagine
that there is a substantial form in a piece of stone or in any other inorganic body.
For vital principles belong only to organic bodies. It is true according to my system
that there is no part whatever of matter which does not contain an infinity of organic
and animated bodies, among which I include not only animals and plants but perhaps
also other kinds which are entirely unknown to us. But one cannot say that every
portion of matter is therefore animated, any more than we should say that a pond
full of fish is an animated body, although the fish are.
My opinion on vital principles, however, is in certain respects different from what
has previously been taught. One of these respects is that it has always been thought
that vital principles change the course of motion in bodies, or at least that they provide
God with the occasion for changing it. My system, instead, holds that this course
is not at all changed within the order of nature, God having pre-established it as it
should be. The Peripatetics believed that souls have an influence on bodies and that
according to their will or appetite, they give certain impressions to the body. The
celebrated authors who by their vital principles and plastic natures have occasioned
the present controversy have been of the same opinion, although they are not Peri-
patetics. 3 One can say the same thing about those who have made use of an archeus
or a hy/archic principle, or other immaterial principles with other names. 4 Descartes
very well recognized that there is a law of nature by which the same quantity of
force is conserved, though he made a mistake in applying this principle by confusing
quantity of force with quality of motion; he therefore thought it unnecessary to
give the soul the power of increasing or diminishing the force of the body but only
that of changing its direction by changing the course of the animal spirits. And
those Cartesians who have given vogue to the doctrine of occasional causes hold
that since the soul can have no influence whatever upon the body, it is necessary for
God to change the course and direction of the animal spirits in accordance with the
wishes of the soul. But if this new law of nature which I have demonstrated had been
known in Descartes's day, according to which not only the same quantity of total
force of bodies in interrelation is conserved but also their total direction, he would
undoubtedly have been led to my system of pre-established harmony, for he would
have recognized that it is just as reasonable to say that the soul does not change the
quantity of the direction of the body as it is to deny to the soul the power of changing
the quantity of its force, both being equally contrary to the order of things and the
laws of nature, since both are equally inexplicable. Therefore souls or vital principles,
according to my system, change nothing in the ordinary course of bodies and do not
even give God the occasion for doing so. The souls follow their laws, which consist
in a definite development of perceptions according to goods and evils, and the bodies
follow theirs, which consist in the laws of motion; nevertheless, these two beings of
entirely different kind meet together and correspond to each other like two clocks
perfectly regulated to the same time. It is this that I call the theory of pre-established
harmony, which excludes every concept of miracle from purely natural actions and
makes things run their course regulated in an intelligible manner. Instead of this, the
common system has recourse to absolutely inexplainable influences, while in the system
of occasional causes God is compelled at every moment, by a kind of general law and
as if by compact, to change the natural couse of the thoughts of the soul to adapt
them to the impressions of the body and to interfere with the natural course of bodily
movements in accordance with the volitions of the soul. This can only be explained by
a perpetual miracle, whereas I explain the whole intelligently by the natures which
God has established in things.
This system of pre-established harmony furnishes a new proof, hitherto unknown,
of the existence of God, since it is very clear that the agreement of so many substances,
none of which exerts an influence upon another, can only come from a general cause
upon which all of them depend and that this cause must have infinite power and
wisdom to pre-establish all these agreements. Even Mr. Bayle has expressed his
judgment that no other hypothesis has ever given so much help to our knowledge of
the divine wisdom.
This system also has the advantage of conserving, in its full rigor and generality,
the great principle of physics that a body never receives a change in motion except
through another body in motion which pushes it: corpus non moveri nisi impulsum a
corpore contiguo et moto. This law has until now been violated by all those who accept
souls or other immaterial principles, including here even all of the Cartesians. The

Democriteans, Hobbes, and certain other outright materialists who have rejected
every immaterial substance have heretofore been alone in preserving this law and
think they have found a ground for abusing other philosophers, whom they believe
to hold an unreasonable opinion in this. But the ground of their triumph is only ap-
parent and ad hominem; far from serving their own view, this law serves to embarrass
them. Now that their error is discovered and their assumed advantage turned against
them, it can be said, it seems, that for the first time the preferable philosophy is also
shown to be the more consistent with reason and that there is nothing left with which
to oppose it. Though this general principle excludes particular prime movers, since it
denies this quality to souls or created immaterial principles, it leaves us all the more
certain and clear about the universal prime mover from whom come alike both the
sequence and the correspondence of perceptions. These are like two kingdoms, one of
efficient causes, the other of final, each of which separately suffices in detail to give a
reason for the whole, as if the other did not exist. But neither is adequate without
the other when we consider their origin, for they emanate from one source in which the
power which makes efficient causes, and the wisdom which rules final causes, are
found united. Even this maxim, that there is no motion which does not originate in
another motion in accordance with mechanical rules, leads us again to a prime mover
because matter, being in itself indifferent to motion or repose but nevertheless always
possessing motion with its whole force and direction, cannot have been put in motion
except through the author of matter himself.
There is still another difference between the opinions of the other authors who
favor vital principles and mine. This is that I believe that these vital principles are
immortal and yet that they are everywhere. The common opinion holds instead that
the souls of beasts perish. and according to the Cartesians, it is only man who truly
has a soul and, indeed, who has perception and appetite - an opinion which will
never receive general approval and into which they rushed only because it seemed
necessary either to ascribe immortal souls to beasts or to admit that the soul of man
could be mortal. But we must rather say that since all simple substance is imperishable,
and consequently every soul immortal, the soul which one cannot reasonably deny
to beasts must also subsist always, although in a way far different from ours, since the
beasts, at least so far as we can judge, lack that reflection by which we think of our-
selves. It is hard to see why men have found it so repugnant to ascribe imperishable
and immortal substances to the bodies of other organic creatures, especially since the
defenders of atoms have introduced material substances which do not perish, and since
the soul of a beast has no more reflection than an atom. For there is a great difference
between the sensation common to all these souls and the reflection which accompanies
reason, since we may have a thousand sensations without reflecting about them.
I do not find that the Cartesians have ever proved, or can prove, that all perception is
accompanied by consciousness. It is just as reasonable that there should be substances
capable of perception below us as above us, so that our soul, far from being the
lowest of all, finds itself in the middle, from which one may rise or sink. Otherwise
there would be a deficiency in order, or what some philosophers call a vacuum of
forms. Thus both reason and nature lead men to the opinion which I have proposed
but their prejudices have turned them away from it.
This opinion leads us to another in which I am also forced to abandon the accepted
view. Those who agree with me will be asked what becomes of the souls of beasts
after the animals die, and we shall have imputed to us the doctrine of Pythagoras,
who believed in the transmigration of souls, a theory which not only the late Van
Helmont (the son) but also the clever author of certain Metaphysical Meditations,
published in Paris, have sought to revive. 5 But it must be seen that my opinion is
far different from this, because I believe that not merely the soul but the whole
animal subsists. Very exact observers have noted before now that it is doubtful that
an entirely new animal is ever produced but that living animals as well as plants already
exist in miniature in the seeds before conception. Assuming this doctrine to be true,
we may reasonably conclude that what does not begin to live does not stop living
either and that death, like generation, is only the transformation of the same anim!ll,
which is sometimes augmented and sometimes diminished. Thus we discover the
marvels of divine artifice even where they have never been thought of. For since the
mechanisms of nature are mechanisms down to their smallest parts, they are indestruct-
ible, since smaller machines are enfolded in greater machines into infinity. Thus one
finds himself forced to maintain at the same time both the pre-existence of the soul
with that of the animal and also the subsistence Ii of the animal with that of the soul.
I have come, imperceptibly, to an explanation of my opinion of the formation of
plants and animals, since it appears from what I have said that they are never formed
entirely anew. I am thus of the opinion of Mr. Cudworth, whose excellent work for
the most part well supports me, that the laws of mechanism by themselves could not
form an animal where there is nothing already organized. 7 I find that he is right in
opposing what certain ancients have sensed on the subject, and also Descartes's
Traitt! de [,homme, whose man costs so little to form but also so little resembles a true
man. I strengthen this opinion of Cudworth's with the consideration that if matter
is arranged by divine wisdom, it must be essentially organized throughout and that
there must thus be machines in the parts of the natural machine into infinity, so many
enveloping structures and so many organic bodies enveloped, one within the other,
that one can never produce any organic body entirely anew and without any preforma-
tion, nor any more destroy entirely an animal which already exists. So I have no need
to resort, as does Cudworth, to certain immaterial plastic natures, though I recall that
Julius Scaliger and other Peripatetics, as well as certain adherents of Van Helmont's
doctrine of the archeus believed that the soul makes its own body. To this I can say
non mi bisogna, e non me basta S , because this preformation and this infinitely complex
organism provide me with material plastic natures that meet the need. Immaterial
plastic natures, by contrast, are as unnecessary as they are incapable of satisfying it.
For since animals are never formed naturally from an inorganic mass, the mechanism,
though incapable of producing their infinitely varied organs anew, can at least draw
them out of pre-existing organic bodies by a process of development and transforma-
tion. However, those who make use of plastic natures, whether material or immaterial,
by no means weaken the prcof for the existence of God drawn from the wonders of
nature, which appear with particular force in the structure of animals, assuming that
the defenders of immaterial plastic natures add to them a particular guidance by God,
and assuming that those who make use, as I do, of a material cause, agree that the
plastic mechanism supports not only a continual preformation but also an original
divine pre-establishment. In whatever way one interprets this, therefore, one cannot
escape the divine existence in seeking to explain these wonders which have always
been admired, but which have never been shown as well as in my system.

This shows that not only the soul but also the animal must always subsist in the
ordinary course of things. But the laws of nature are made and applied with so much
order and wisdom that they serve more than one end. Thus God, who holds the place
of inventor and architect in relation to the mechanism and the works of nature,
holds the place of king and father to those substances which have intelligence and
whose soul is a spirit formed in his image. With respect to spirits, his kingdom, of
which they are citizens, is the most perfect monarchy which can be built. Here there
is no sin without some punishment attached, no good action without some reward.
Here all tends, finally, to the glory of the monarch and the happiness of the subjects,
by the most beautiful combination of justice· and goodness which could be wished.
I do not venture an assertion with regard to pre-existence, however, or with regard
to the details of the future state of human souls, since God is able to use extraordinary
methods in these matters within the realm of grace. Nevertheless, the ways favored by
the natural reason are to be preferred, at least so far as revelation does not teach the
contrary. I do not undertake to decide this matter here.
Before closing, it may be well to point out, among the other advantages of my
system, the universality of the rules which I use. These rules are always without
exception in my general philosophy; in other systems the contrary is true. For example,
I have here said that mechanical laws are ne~er violated in natural motion, that the
same force and the same direction are always conserved, that everything occurs in
souls as if there were no bodies and everything in bodies as if there were no souls,
that there is no part of space which is empty, that there is no part of matter which is
not actually divided and does not contain organic bodies, that there are also souls
everywhere as there are bodies everywhere, that the souls and even the animals subsist
always, that organic bodies are never without souls, and that souls are never se-
parated from organic bodies, though it may be true, nevertheless, that there is no
part of matter of which one can say that it is always affected by the same soul. Thus
I do not at all recognize entirely separated souls in the natural order or created spirits
entirely detached from any body. In this I share the opinion of many ancient Church
Fathers. God alone is above all matter, since he is its author. But creatures free or
freed from matter would at the same time be divorced from the universal bond, like
deserters from the general order. This universality in my rules is confirmed by a
great facility in explanation, since the uniformity which I believe is observed in the
whole of nature makes us say that everywhere, at every time, and in every place
things are just as they are here, almost to the very degrees of grandeur and perfection,
so that the most remote and most hidden things can be explained perfectly by analogy
to what is visible and near unto us.
REFERENCES
1 In his Continuation des pensees diversees sur la com~te (1705) Bayle had made passing reference
to the 'plastic natures' of Cudworth, charging that they served to make atheism easy. The
occasion was Le Clerc's publication of selections from Cudworth's The True Intellectual System
o/the Universe (1678) in his BibliotMque choisie. The ensuing controversy ran into 1707, Bayle's
side appearing in the Reponse aux questions d' un provincial. Vol. III, chaps. 179/f. (1705), and
the Entretiens de Maxime et de Themiste, ou reponse Ii ce que M. Ie Clerc a ecrit ... (1707).
a This Regis is not the Cartesian Pierre Silvain Regis (p. 146, note 10) but Hemi Ie Roi (1598-
1679), who became a critic of Descartes after 1645. Descartes wrote him in January, 1642, that
a true 'substantial unity' exists between soul and body (Correspondence, ed. Adam and Tannery,
V,508-9).
8 The allusion is to Henry More and Cudworth. On More see p. 452, note 15.
4 Seep. 412, note 37; p. 508, note 2, and p. 328, note 14, on the elder Van Helmont and the vital-
istic movement in general.
5 On the younger Van Helmont (Franciscus Mercurius) and his monadology see also p. 508,
note 11 and the New Essays, Part II, chap. xxvii. The Paris metaphysical meditations were
probably those of Rene Fede, Meditations metaphysiques de I'Origine de l'arne, sa nature, sa
beatitude, son desordre et sa restauration, which appeared anonymously in 1683.
6 Reading subsistence for substance, with Erd. On the contemporary biological backgro\j1ld
see p. 560, note 5; p. 329, note 25; and p. 350, note 29.
7 In December, 1703, Lady Masham had sent Leibniz a copy of her father's work. The cor-
respondence between her and Leibniz which followed contained not only a sympathetic
discussion of that work but also one of Leibniz's system, probably based on Locke's difficulties
with it.
8 "I do not need it, and it does not meet my need."
62
LETTER TO HANSCH ON THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY

OR ON PLATONIC ENTHUSIASM
July 25, 1707
Like Johann Christian Wolff, Michael Gottlieb Hansch (1683-1752) was one of the
younger men who adopted Leibnizian ideas early in the new century and who entered into
correspondence with their author. The following letter was published in his Diatriba
de enthusiasmo Platonico in 1716; in 1728 he offered what Leibniz had frequently
admitted he had himself not yet achieved - Godofredi Guilielmi Leibnitii Principia
philosophiae more geometrico demonstrata.
[Dut., II, 222-25]
I have read your little work on Platonic enthusiasm with much pleasure, and I am
convinced that what you are doing, along with others who are throwing light on the
philosophies of the ancients, is most valuable. For such works both confirm and ad-
vance truths, whether merely revived or newly discovered. I should not care to quarrel
with anyone as to whether Pythagoras and Plato learned anything from the Hebrews.
So far I have not observed anything which would lead me to believe it. I recognize that
the worship of one God, almost wiped out among mankind, was restored through
the Hebrews. I am unwilling to believe that Homer and Hesiod visited the Egyptians.
The author of Homer's life, who is held to be Herodotus, says nothing of the kind
about him. But I willingly admit that the Greeks owe the beginnings of the sciences
to the Egyptians and Phoenicians. Abraham, who came from the Chaldeans, is rightly
thought to have taught some things to the Egyptians. The very old doctrine of the
immortality of souls seems to have had metempsychosis added to it by the Indians,
and we may believe that it came from them to the Magi and the Egyptians. Pythagoras
then introduced it into the West, and Plato generally followed him.
No ancient philosophy comes closer to Christianity, although wejustly censure those
who think that Plato is everywhere reconcilable with Christ. But the ancients must be
excused for denying the beginning of things, or creation, and the resurrection of the
body, for these doctrines can be known only by revelation.
Meanwhile many of the Platonic doctrines which you mention are most beautiful -
that all things have a single cause; that there is an intelligible world in the divine mind,
which I also usually call the region of ideas; and that the object of wisdom is the really
real [ra ovum; ovra] or simple substances, which I call monads and which, once existing,
endure always; the first ground of life [np61m oiTmKa rfi!; (WIJ!;]1, that is, God and
souls, and of the latter the most excellent ones, namely, minds, which are produced
by God as images of divinity. The mathematical sciences, moreover, which deal with
eternal truths rooted in the divine mind, prepare us for the knowledge of substances.
Sensible things, however, and composite things in general, or the substantiated things,
so to speak, are in flux and become rather than exist. Furthermore, as Plotinus has
rightly said, every mind contains a kind of intelligible world within itself; indeed, in
my opinion it also represents this sensible world to itself. But there is an infinite
difference between our intellect and the divine, for God sees all things adequately and
at once, while very few things are known distinctly by us; the rest lie hidden con-
fusedly, as it were, in the chaos of our perceptions. Yet the seeds of the things we
learn are within us - the ideas and the eternal truths which arise from them. Since we
discover being, the one, substance, action, and the like within ourselves, and since we
are conscious of ourselves 2, we need not wonder that their ideas are within us. The
innate concepts of Plato, which he concealed by the term 'reminiscence', are therefore
by far to be preferred to the blank tablets of Aristotle, Locke, and other recent exoteric
philosophers. So I believe that to philosophize correctly, Plato must be combined use-
fully with Aristotle and Democritus, though a number of the principal doctrines would
have to be stricken from each of them. The Platonists were not far wrong in recognizing
four kinds of cognition in the mind - sense, opinion, knowledge (scientia), and under-
standing, or in other words, experience, conjecture, demonstration, and pure intel-
lection, which looks into the connections of truth by a single act of the mind; this
belongs to God in all things but is given to us in simple matters only. But the more we
grasp in a shorter time, the closer we approach in our demonstrations to this pure
intellection. Although our mind depends continuously on God in its existence and
action, as does every other creature, I do not think that it needs his particular concourse
over and above the laws of nature for its perceptions, but rather it deduces its later
thoughts from its earlier ones by its internal force and in an order prescribed by God,
as Roelius, whom you quote, rightly says. I extend this also to the perceptions of
sensible things. For since they are not miraculously induced by God, and cannot be
imparted naturally by the body, it follows that they arise within the soul by a definite
law, as through a harmony divinely pre-established in the beginning. This is more
worthy of the most wise Creator than the perpetual violation, by new impressions, of
laws which he has given to the body or the soul. Meanwhile, it can be said that because
of the divine concourse which continuously confers upon each creature whatever
perfection there is in it, the external object of the soul is God alone, and that in this
sense God is to the mind what light is to the eye. This is that divine truth which shines
forth in us, about which Augustine says so much and on which Malebranche follows
him.
There is a sound sense in which we can understand that the soul is in this body as
in a prison. But we must reject the opinion of the ancient philosophers that the body
is a prison for punishing the understanding for its past sins. They were right in saying
that the soul is attached to the body as to a post which it has no right to leave without
the order of the supreme commander. It was It nice conception, too, that we are ruled
by providence insofar as we follow reason; by fate and like a machine when we are
carried away by our affections. For we have now seen, from the pre-established har-
mony, that God has ordered all things so wonderfully that corporeal machines serve
minds and that what is providence in a mind is fate in a body.
The ancient Platonists and Stoics also had excellent views about the virtues, and
Augustine is too severe with them. For not content with having sought perpetual sins
in their virtues, which is itself too much, he also considered the precepts of the philoso-
phers as entirely evil, as if they had measured everything bearing the name of virtue
by the vanity of praise and by pride. But we know they often rightly commended the

wise man, not out of hope of reward or fear of punishment, but out of love of virtue,
and there is no difference between this love of virtue and that devotion to justice which
Augustine teaches and which he refers to the essential justice, that is, to God himself,
in whom is the source of the good and the true. Nor was Plato entirely ignorant of
this, for he always looked to the truth in itself. But Augustine objects that philosophers
have always measured things by themselves, and so have placed the creature above the
creator.
I am afraid that this is oversubtIe 3 , as is the opinion of certain people who have
recently commanded us to love God without any consideration of ourselves. For it
is impossible, by the nature of things, for anyone to have no thought for his own
happiness. But for those who love God, their own happiness arises from that love.
Even before the controversy had arisen about the distinction between mercenary and
true love, I had seen this difficulty and resolved it in the Preface of my Codex juris
gentium4, giving a definition of love which intelligent men have received with applause
and which seems to decide the dispute. For, as opposed to mercenary love, true love is
that affection of the mind by which we are brought to find pleasure in the happiness
of another. For what we take pleasure in, that we desire for itself. Furthermore, since
the divine happiness is the confluence of all perfections, and pleasure is the feeling of
perfection, it follows that the true happiness of a created mind is in its sense of the
divine happiness. So those who seek the right, the true, the good, and the just because
this delights them rather than because it is profitable - although it is in truth most
profitable - are best prepared for the love of God, according to the opinion of Augus-
tine himself, who brilliantly shows that the good desire to enjoy God, the bad to use
him, and who proves, as the Platonists tried to do, that the exchange of the divine love
for the ephemeral is the cause of the fall of souls. Therefore, too, our happiness cannot
be separated from the love of God.
Hence you may reject the quietists, false mystics, who deny individuality and action
to the mind of the blessed, as if our highest perfection consisted in a kind of passive
state, when on the contrary, love and knowledge are operations of the mind and
will. Blessedness of the soul does indeed consist in union with God, but we must
not think that the soul is absorbed in God, having lost its individuality and activity,
which alone constitute its distinct substance, for this would be an evil enthusiasm
[tvOOOUl(xuJlo,], an undesirable deification. Certain ancient and more recent thinkers
have asserted, namely, that God is a spirit diffused throughout the whole universe,
which animates organic bodies wherever it meets them, just as the wind produces
music in organ pipes. The Stoics were probably not averse to this opinion, and the
active intellect of the Averroists, and perhaps of Aristotle himself, reduce to it, being
the same in all men. According to this view souls return to God in death, as streams
to the ocean. I wish that Valentine Weigel, who, in an extraordinary book, not only
explains the blessed life through deification, but frequently recommends a death
and quiet of this sort, had not given us ground to suspect a similar opinion, along with
other quietists. The chief to affirm this position is the man who calls himself John
Angelus Silesius, the author of some beautiful sacred poems entitled Der cherubinische
Wandersmann. 5 In another way Spinoza tends toward the same view. For him there
is one substance, God. Creatures are his modifications, like figures in wax, continually
arising and perishing through motion. So for him, just as for Almeric, the soul does
not survive except through its ideal being in God, where it was from all eternity.
But I observe nothing in Plato that would lead me to conclude that minds do not
conserve their own substance. This, moreover, is beyond argument for those who
philosophize carefully, for the contrary opinion cannot be understood unless you
assume that God and the soul are corporeal, for in no other way can souls be tom
as parts away from God. But such a notion of God and the soul is absurd on other
grounds. The mind is not a part but an image of divinity, a being which represents the
universe, a citizen of the divine kingdom. And for God neither substance in general -
simple substance, that is - nor person perishes in his kingdom. Souls which lack reason
have substance incapable of happiness and misery. But I do not want to digress to
them, since they are not pertinent to your discussion. In concluding this rather extended
letter, I congratulate you on so well combining learning with wisdom and urge you
to continue in this enlightened course.
REFERENCES
1 This term, which Leibniz commonly uses for substance in the last period of his thought, is
drawn from Aristotle Physics vii. 4. 248b, 249a.
2 Reading simus for scimus.
3 Reading ne (Erd.) for nec.
4 See No. 44, I and II, and p. 430, note 3.
5 Seep.430,note9.
63
CORRESPONDENCE WITH DES BOSSES

1709-15
The correspondence between Leibniz and Bartholomew des Bosses, Jesuit teacher of
theology at the seminary of his order in Hildesheim, and after 1711 professor of mathe-
matics at Cologne, contains Leibniz's last and most extensive attempt to put his phi-
losophy in acceptable Scholastic terms. Though Guhrauer found in it "the most complete
and coherent explanations of the monadology ... preserved for us" (Guh. D., I, 373),
many students have seen, in the central problem about which the later correspondence
turned, an enigma which it is difficult to solve in terms of Leibniz's previous doctrine.
This problem is the nature of composite corporeal beings, particularly their substan-
tiality and unity. In 1703 Tournemine had criticized Leibniz (see No. 55, X, and p. 541,
note 24) for failing to explain the nature of the unity of soul and body but, like Descartes,
merely establishing a simple correspondence between them. From its beginning the dis-
cussion with Des Bosses was concerned in general with the consistency of the monadology
with Aristotle's metaphysics. In 1709 it turned to Tournemine's criticism when Des
Bosses raised the question of the origin of the dominant entelechy and its relation to the
body. Not only the Council of Trent's pronouncement on the Eucharist but also realistic
demands for the substantial nature of compound bodies led now to the discussion of a
substantial reifying chain which binds together the monads constituting such a body,
its relation to these monads, its role in contributing to (a) the unified nature and (b) the
continuous extension of such bodies, and the issue of whether it is a substantial form in
the Scholastic sense. 1
By 1712 Des Bosses and Leibniz agree upon the possibility of such a realitas union-
alis, though the latter frequently emphasizes phenomenalism as an alternative. If com-
posite bodies must be substantial, he insists that they are not original but secondary (or
ortive) substances and that their reifying principle cannot itselfbe a mode or modification
but must be a substantial form which is the source of modifications in the resulting bodily
substance. Des Bosses argues, on the other hand, that the reifying chain cannot be
considered as something absolute but must be a 'nonmodal' or 'categorial' accident,
concepts which Leibniz is easily able to show contradictory in terms.
The total effect ofthe correspondence was a greater realistic emphasis in Leibniz's thought
about the apparent physical world, evidences of which will be found also in Nos. 66 and 67.
The correspondence, which began after a visit by Des Bosses in 1706, covered a wide
variety of topics from theology to Sinology andfrom problems ofpublication to ecclesiast-
ical gossip. The selections given are largely restricted to the later philosophical argument.
I. LEIBNIZ TO DES BOSSES 2

[G., II, 369-72]
Hanover, April 30, 1709 3
Two things usually make publishers hesitate - one is their desire to profit; the other is
ignorance. Thus they do not know what they should select. They do not trust scholars
enough, because they believe that scholars have a better understanding of what is
scholarly than of what will sell. I tried recently to publish a dissertation which I wrote
some time ago and in which I examined some problems of the ninth century and
became involved in chronological studies. I called it Flowers Scattered on the Grave o[
the Popess Joan; in it I explode the fable of the popess, partly by new arguments, and
partly by confirming the old. I set the generally obscure chronology of the time in clear
order, replying to the newest subterfuges of Frederick Spanheim, a Leyden theologian,
which he put in a book published some years ago in Holland. I have also dealt with
some matters that have been overlooked, for I discovered a book on magic ascribed to
the popess which has not yet been published, and I drew some other things worthy of
readers' interest from manuscripts. Perhaps this little book would please your printer
in Liege better, but I would willingly give him either one - that in Latin about the po-
pess as well as that in French against Bayle. 4
Now I come to your philosophical question. I do not determine whether the souls
of beasts were not created until the fourth day; in any case innumerable entelechies
must have been created at once, at the very beginning. I merely wanted to explain how
new souls could exist even if no new part of matter were created. And if I am not
mistaken, my recent letter showed this. By 'matter' I here mean mass or secondary
matter, where there is extension with resistance. I do not recall having assigned matter
proper (taken in this sense) to any soul; on the contrary, every part of an organic body
contains other entelechies. It is true, of course, that a soul cannot pass over from one
organic body into another but remains al ways in the same organic body, not even death
violating this law. But it must be remembered that even this organic body remains the
same in the way in which the ship of Theseus or a river does; that is, it is in perpetual
flux. And perhaps no portion of matter can be designated which always remains the
property of the same animal or soul. If you consider the question more carefully,
perhaps you will try to say that a certain point can at least be assigned to the soul.
But a point is not a definite part of matter, and even an infinity of points gathered into
one will not make extension. This I prove as follows.
Take a triangle ABC, with its side AC bisected at D, AD bisected at E, AE at F, AF
at G, etc. (Figure 37). Assuming that this has been done to infinity, we will have an
infinite number of triangles, BCD, BDE, BEF, BFG, etc. Anyone of these can exist
separately (if we assign thickness to them so that they become bodies, or if we assume
the triangle to have thickness from the beginning, that is, to be a pyramid). Thus each
B
c
Fig. 37.

one has its own vertex. Now assume all these triangles put together so that they make
the whole pyramid or triangle ABC; clearly all these infinite vertices compounded
together in this way make up only the one common vertex B. If you do not wish to
introduce an infinity of triangles, you will at least see that this is generally true of any
number oftriangles. Extension arises from situation, but it adds continuity to situation.
Points have situation, but they neither have nor compose continuity, nor can they
stand by themselves. So there is nothing to prevent an infinity of points from coming
into being and perishing (or at least coinciding or standing mutually outside of each
other), without any increase or diminution of matter and extension, since they are
only the modifications of matter and not its parts but its extremities. I do not consider
it fitting, however, to think of souls as if they were in points. Perhaps someone would
say that souls are not in a place except through an operation, speaking, that is, accord-
ing to the old system of influence; or better, speaking according to the new system of
pre-established harmony, that they are in a place only through correspondence and
that they are thus in the whole organic body which they animate. However, I do not
deny some real metaphysical union between the soul and the organic body, according
to which it can be said that the soul is truly in the body; I have also said this in reply
to Tournemine. But because such a thing cannot be explained by the phenomena and
changes nothing in them, I cannot explain any more distinctly of what this union
formally consists. It is enough that it is tied up with the correspondence. You will
understand, moreover, that I have been speaking so far, not of the union of the
entelechy or active principle with primary matter or passive power, but of the union
of the soul or of the monad itself (which is the result of both of these principles) with
the mass or with other monads.
But what, you may ask, shall we say of this primary matter itself, which belongs to
the soul? I reply that it is certainly created together with the soul or that the whole
monad is created. Then does not primary matter increase and decrease? I acknow-
ledge that it does, since it is only primitive passive power. Then mass also increases,
you say. I agree that the number of monads increases, the result of which is the mass,
but not the extension and resistance, nor the phenomena, any more than when new
points arise. God could create an infinity of new monads without increasing the mass,
if he merely added old monads to the organic body of the new monad. Mass is a real
phenomenon, but with the exception of those which appear anew with the new
monad itself, phenomena are not at all changed through the creation of a new monad,
except perhaps by a miracle. For we must hold that the old monads have been so or-
dered from the beginning by God when he created them that their phenomena would
correspond to the monad to be created sometime later, unless we prefer the view that
God changes all other monads by a miracle when he creates a new one to adapt them
to the neW one; this is less likely.
In conclusion, all this tends to show that it is possible for God to create new monads.
Yet I do not assert definitely that new monads are created by God. On the contrary,
I think the view that the opposite is more probable can be defended and that monads
pre-exist. In place of the absolute creation of a rational soul, the transcreation of a
nonrational into a rational soul could be defended; this would happen if an essential
degree of perfection were miraculously added to it. I maintain this view also in my
dissertation against Bayle, as it seems to me more probable than complete creation and
more true than traduction ....
P.S. 5 Many years ago, when my philosophy was still too immature, I located souls
in points and thus thought that the multiplication of souls could be explained through
traduction, since many points can be made out of a single point, as the vertices of many
triangles can be made through division from the vertex of one. 6 But having grown
more circumspect, I grasped that we were not only led into innumerable difficulties
in this way but also that this contains a certain confusion of classes, so to speak. Pro-
perties pertaining to extension are not to be assigned to souls, and their unity and
multitude are not to be derived from the category of quantity but from the category of
substance, that is, not from points but from the primitive force of action. But the
action proper to the soul is perception, and the nexus of perceptions, according to
which subsequent ones are derived from preceding ones, makes up the unity of the
percipient.
II. LEIBNIZ TO DES BOSSES
[G., II, 409]
Hanover, August 4,1710
... In my earlier letter I had not noticed the objection which your last letter contained
against the pre-established harmony; otherwise I should have answered at once, since
it is one of those criticisms which I find most pleasing because they give opportunity
to illumine the matter more fully. The very fact, namely, that the world, matter, and
mind cannot be understood perfectly by finite minds is the argument which I use,
among others, to prove that matter is not composed of atoms but is actually subdivided
into infinity, so that there is in any particle of matter whatever a world of creatures
infinite in number. If, on the contrary, the world were an aggregate of atoms, it could
be known completely by a finite mind of sufficient excellence. Moreover, since no part
of matter can be known perfectly by a created being, it appears from this that no soul
can be known perfectly by a creature either, since the soul represents matter exactly
through this very pre-established harmony. What you see as an objection can there-
fore be viewed as an argument for my position ....
III. LEIBNIZ TO DES BOSSES

[G., II, 412]
Hanover, November 7,1710
... I am pleased that my reply to your objection has satisfied you and especially that
it was not entirely unforeseen. Whoever admits the pre-established harmony cannot
fail also to accept the doctrine of the actual division of matter into infinite parts. But
the same conclusion follows from elsewhere, namely, from the nature of the motion
of fluids and from the fact that all bodies have a degree of fluidity.
Would that the attribute of incomprehensibility did belong to God alone; our hope
of knowing nature would then be greater. But it is all too true that there is no part of
nature which we can understand perfectly; the very interdependence [neplxcbp1fO'I~] of
things proves this. No creature, however excellent, can at once distinctly perceive or
comprehend the infinite; on the contrary, indeed, whoever were to understand a single
part of matter would understand the whole universe, by virtue of this same neplxcbp1fO'IV
of which I spoke. My principles are such that they can hardly be torn apart from each
other. He who knows one well, knows them all ....

IV. LEIBNIZ TO DES BOSSES 7

[G., II, 435-37]
Hanover, February 5, 1712
If a corporeal substance is something real in addition to monads, as a line is known
to be something more than points, it will have to be said that corporeal substance
consists in a kind of union or rather, in a real unifier [uniente reali] superadded to the
monads by God and that out of the union of the passive power of the monads there
arises primary matter or the impulsion [exigentia] to extension and antitypy or to
diffusion and resistance. From the union of the monadic entelechies, however, there
arises a substantial form. But whatever can arise and be extinguished in this way is also
destroyed by the cessation of the union, unless it is conserved miraculously by God.
Such a form, moreover, will then not be a soul, which is a simple and indivisible
substance. This form, too, is in perpetual flux, just as is matter, since no point can
truly be designated in matter which preserves the same position beyond a moment
and which does not recede from its neighbors, however many they may be. But the
soul remains the same in all its changes, and the same subject persists; in corporeal
substance this is not so. We must therefore say one of two things: either bodies are
mere phenomena, in which case extension too will be only a phenomenon and only
monads will be real, but the union will be supplied in the phenomenon by the action of
the perceiving soul; or if faith urges us to assert corporeal substances B, substance
consists in that unifying reality [realitate unionali] which adds something absolute and
hence substantial, even though fluid, to the things to be united. It is in the change of
this being that your transubstantiation would have to be located, for monads are not
truly ingredients of this added being but requisites, even if they may be needed for it
not by an absolute metaphysical necessity, but by exigency only. Thus the substance
of a body may change, but the monads be saved, and sensible phenomena based upon
them. A nonmodal accident seems to be hard to explain, and I do not hold extension
to be one. It can be said that even though monads are not accidents, it nevertheless
happens [accidere] to a unifying substance that it may have them by physical necessity,
just as it happens to a body that it may be struck by another body, even though a body
is not an accident. The extension of a body seems to be nothing but the continuation
of matter through parts external to each other, or diffusion. But where this 'externality'
ends supernaturally, the extension which happens to the body itself also ends, and
extension will remain only phenomenal, based in the monads along with the other
properties which arise from them and which alone would exist if there were no unifying
substance. If this substantial chain of monads [monadum substantiate vinculum] were
absent, all bodies along with all their qualities would be nothing but well-founded
phenomena, like the rainbow or an image in a mirror - in a word, continued dreams
in perfect agreement with each other - and the reality of these phenomena would
consist in this one fact. For we cannot say that monads are parts of bodies which
touch each other, any more than we can say this of points or of souls. A monad, like
the soul, is as a world by itself, having no intercourse of a dependent nature except
with God. Therefore, if a body is a substance, it is the actualization [realisatioj9 of
phenomena proceeding beyond their mere congruence.
But if you do not want to consider these occurrences in the Eucharist to be merely
phenomenal, they can be said to be grounded in a certain primary occurrence - not in
extension, which cannot be permanent, but in the points of this extension which cor-
respond to monads, the union which constitutes the continuum out of these points
being removed, and thus continuous lines and figures being dropped, but qualities
and other real accidents kept with the aid of the accidental points which remain, with-
out the continuity which depended upon the unifying reality or the substantial chain.
When the diffusion of this chain through parts external to each other ceased, it too
would cease. These accidental points could thus be considered as primary accidents,
and this would be the basis for the rest, and in a sense which is nonmodal, which cannot
be said of extension or of the continuous diffusion of matter.
In fact, when I weight the matter more carefully, I see that extension can itself be
saved and that your opinion explaining the position of your society can thus be
granted, even of one is opposed to phenomena. For since accidental points can be
admitted, we could - indeed, we perhaps should - also admit their union. Then we have
an absolute accidental extension. But such extension would formally involve a diffusion
of parts beyond parts, though that which is diffused will not be matter or corporeal
substance formally but only exigently [exigentialiter]. That which is diffused formally
will be locality or that which constitutes situs; it will be necessary to conceive this
itself as something absolute. So I believe that we will not quarrel now, provided that
the monads are not involved in this supernatural change of the substance of a body,
which would be entirely unnecessary, since, as I said, they are not parts of it - especially
since the soul of Christ does not, according to your own views, change in transubstan-
tiation, nor does it take a position in the substance 10 of the bread. I should say the
same also of the monads of the most holy body. To speak candidly, however, I should
prefer to explain the accidents of the Eucharist through phenomena; then we shall not
need nonmodal accidents, for which I care very little ....
'" Unless you decide otherwise, I think the title Tentamina theodicaeae can be kept.
For theodicy is, as it were, a kind of science, namely, the doctrine of the justice of
God - that is, of his wisdom together with his goodness. 11 •••
Y. DES BOSSES TO LEIBNIZ

[G., II, 441-42]
Paderborn, May 20, 1712
I finally reply to your letter sent to me in February, which was the more welcome for
its greater length. I begin with the question about bodies, which I read through in your
letter with the greatest satisfaction, and I have thought about it no less attentively. You
say that we must say one thing or another: either bodies are mere phenomena, and then
extension will be only a phenomenon; or there is superadded to the monads a certain
unifying reality which is something absolute (and therefore substantial) even though it
adds a flux unifying the (monads). This disjunction I accept with respect to the matter
itself, but I now argue that the former is not true and therefore that the latter is.
If bodies were mere phenomena, indeed, the paradox of Zeno would be true, who
denies all true, proper motion, for if there are no things to touch each other, nothing
will be moved. To deny this member of the disjunction the principles of all the phil-
osophers seem to suffice, joined with the naive prejudice, both of which show no
doubt that there is in any body something more than phenomena, that is, something
more than continuous dreams, no matter how perfectly these may fit each other...•

So it remains for us to accept something absolute in which the reification of pheno-

mena consists. This you call a substance, I an accident; but I believe we are not in
disagreement about the matter itself. I call an accident whatever in itself presupposes
a complete substance, so that it cannot naturally exist without this substance. And
this absolute unifier presupposes complete substance or the monads, without which it
cannot exist naturally. For according to you, "monads are in fact ingredients of this
added being, and yet not requisite to it in the sense of an absolute and metaphysical
necessity but only exigently". This I interpret as meaning that monads are required by
this added being as something prior in nature to it. If you do not reject this interpre-
tation (and it does not seem that you can reject it, for whatever does not contain a
principle of unity within itself must presuppose one from elsewhere), it is now obvious
that this added thing is not a substance in the sense of the Peripatetics, who understand
by substance nothing but a primary being, a substratum and presupposition for the
rest. Therefore we will now have in bodies something absolute, distinct from the
monads, which is not a substance; and so, since the body adds nothing to the monads
except this absolute being, only an accident is superadded to them.
Furthermore, I should not wish to ground this absolute solely in the accidental
points corresponding to the monads, for the same difficulty seems to remain about these
points as about the monads themselves. By what compact, namely, can they make an
extended being when they are not themselves extended? So it seems further necessary
to resort to something unifying which can be called absolute accidental extension. For
the rest, I admit that, if the natural organization of bodies could be explained by
phenomena alone, there would be no philosophical ground for resorting to nonmodal
accidents in explaining the accidents of the Eucharist. But as I have said above, the
common sense of men seems to understand that there is something more in sensible
bodies than phenomena consisting in the operation of the perceiving mind. And
speaking only of natural events, there ought to correspond to this perception some
object distinct from the perception itself; otherwise there would be no harmony....
VI. LEIBNIZ TO DES BOSSES

[G., II, 444]
Hanover, May 26, 1712
If you deny that what is superadded to the monads to make a union is of the nature
of a substance, you cannot say that a body is a substance, for it will then be a mere
aggregate of monads; and I fear that you will fall back upon the mere phenomenality
of body. For in themselves monads have no situation [situs] with respect to each
other, that is, no real order which reaches beyond the order of phenomena. Each is
as it were a separate world, and they correspond to each other through their own
phenomena and not by any other intercourse and connection.
If you call an accident whatever presupposes a complete substance in such a way
that it cannot naturally be without it, you do not explain the essential mark of an
accident by which it must be distinguished from substance itself, even in a supernatural
state. The Peripatetics as a whole recognize something substantial besides monads;
otherwise they would have no substances besides monads. Monads do not constitute
a complete composite substance, since they do not make up a unity per se but merely
an aggregate, unless some substantial chain is added.
It cannot be proved from the principle of harmony that there is anything in bodies
besides phenomena. For we know on other grounds that the harmony of phenomena
in souls does not arise from the influence of bodies but is pre-established. This would
suffice if there were only souls or monads; in this case all real extension would also
disappear, not to speak of real motion, whose reality would be reduced to mere
changes in phenomena.
I wish someone would present the entire system of Jansen in a compendium; with-
out this it is difficult to judge his position correctly in a matter so involved. 12 It seems
to be possible to carve contrary opinions out of Augustine by separating his words
from their context; it is possible that the same thing has happened to Jansen. But the
connection of his thoughts can remove this doubt. In reading Augustine, one must
be very well at home in his works, and know the time, the scope, and the outline of
his different books, if one does not want to be deceived by passages taken from them.
I noticed this long ago after examining some of his passages more carefully, and I
have become more cautious with him ....
VII. DES BOSSES TO LEIBNIZ

[G., II, 446-47]
Paderborn, June 12, 1712
... I come now to the philosophical sections of your letter. You say, "If you deny that
what is superadded to the monads in order to make a union is substantial, then a body
cannot be called a substance, for it will then be a mere aggregate of monads." I reply
that the Peripatetics establish a twofold meaning of body, one which is placed in the
category of substance, and this is a substance in the way which I shall explain a little
later; the other is mathematical, and this consists in the dimensional quantity which
I acknowledge to be a mere accident. It was only with this meaning that I was dealing
in my last letter. For I admit that the body, taken in the former meaning, would be a
mere aggregate of monads if there were no substantial unity between the monads. This
unity I further conceive of as follows, and I explain it in Peripatetic terms, by which I
shall try to adapt your system in some way or other to the usage of the School.
Forms, and thus monads themselves (I except the rational soul), are always, with
regard to their essence or with regard to metaphysical actuality, not with regard to
existence or to physical actuality, somewhat of the nature by which, according to some
Peripatetics, parts are said to be in the whole potentially, or as Averroes and Zabarella
think, elements remain in mixtures, namely 'refracted'. In an animal, for example
a horse, only the dominant form, namely the soul of the horse, has existence or
physical actuality. Since being and one are convertible, a thing is made one through the
very thing by which it is made to exist, and so, since the whole animal has existence
by virtue of an existent being which emanates from the soul, the body of the animal
is constituted a unity through this existence. Furthermore, this existence is a kind of
substantial mode emanating from the soul or the total and dominant form and affect-
ing the other partial monads and subordinating them to itself, with the result that from
these subordinate monads and this dominant monad, there exists one corporeal
substance which is called a horse.
It follows from this that the monads, viewed with respect to their essence and dis-
regarding all existence or physical actuality, are indeed substances and primary com-

plete beings in a metaphysical sense, because they have metaphysical actuality or an

entelechy, yet they are not complete in the sense of physical substance, except insofar
as and when a dominant entelechy bestows existence and therefore unity to the whole
organic mass, for example, to the body of the horse, so that this itself will be subor-
dinate to no other entelechy. 14 •••
VIII. LEIBNIZ TO DES BOSSES

[G., II, 450-52]
Hanover, June 16,1712
... You .. , confer a benefit when you note the opinions of scholars from your holy
order which agree with any whatsoever of mine. This is worth much, both in con-
firming and in understanding them. Of the Reverend Father Sebastian Izquierdo,
I do not recall having seen anything but a book entitledPharus scientiarum, which I saw
as a youth but whose idea has almost escaped me. Certain phrases of Izquierdo in
the passages which you have excerpted diverge somewhat from mine, but we seem to
agree in the essence. For example, when he says that in creating the world, God was
necessitated morally but not physically, I should prefer to say morally, not metaphy-
sically, for in my book I explain physical necessity as the consequence of moral.
I consider the explanation of all phenomena solely through the perceptions of monads
functioning in harmony with each other, with corporeal substances rejected, to be
useful for a fundamental investigation of things. In this way of explaining things, space
is the order of coexisting phenomena, as time is the order of successive phenomena,
and there is no spatial or absolute nearness or distance between monads. And to say
that they are crowded together in a point or disseminated in space is to use certain
fictions of our mind when we seek to visualize freely what can only be understood. In
this conception, also, there is involved no extension or composition of the continuum,
and all difficulties about points disappear. It is this that I tried to say somewhere in
my Theodicy - that the difficulties in the composition of a continuum ought to warn
us that we must think far differently of things. 1s We must see then what must be
superadded to monads if we add a substantial union or assume that there is a corporeal,
and therefore a material, substance; whether it be necessary in that case to return to a
mathematical body. Certainly monads cannot properly be in an absolute space, since
they are not really ingredients but merely requisities of matter. It wiII not be necessary
on this ground, therefore, to set up certain indivisible localities, which throw us into
such difficulties. It is enough that corpereal substance is something that reifies [realizans]
phenomena outside of souls, but I should not wish to conceive actual parts in it
except those made by actual division, nor indivisible parts, except as an extreme
measure.
I believe that monads always have full existence and that we cannot conceive of
parts being said to be potentially in the whole. Nor do I see what a dominant monad
would detract from the existence of other monads, since there is really no intercourse
between them but merely an agreement. The unity of corporeal substance in a horse
does not arise from any 'refraction' of monads but from a superadded substantial
chain through which nothing else is changed in the monads themselves. Some worm
can be a part of my body and subject to my dominant monad, and the same worm
can have other animalcules in its body subject to its dominant monads. But considered
in the monads themselves, domination and subordination consist only in degrees of

perfection.
If an accident is defined as that which strives [exigo] to exist in a substance, I fear
that in order to explain its formal reason, we must find a reason 16 why it strives.
For certainly a substance also often demands [exigo] another substance; it would have
to be explained what this 'existing in' [inesse] is in which the nature of an accident is
usually located. My own answer to this would be that it is the modification of some-
thing entirely other.
It is true that things which happen in the soul must agree with those which happen
outside of it. But for this it is enough for the things taking place in one soul to cor-
respond with each other as well as with those happening in any other soul, and it is not
necessary to assume anything outside of all souls or monads. According to this
hypothesis, we mean nothing else when we say that Socrates is sitting down than that
what we understand by 'Socrates' and by 'sitting down' is appearing to us and to others
who are concerned ....
IX. LEIBNIZ TO DES BOSSES

[G., II, 457-61]
Wolfenbiittel, September 20,1712 17
... Your version is beautiful and will throw light on the work. But on my part I am
taking advantage of the freedom you have allowed me, and while you have limited
yourself more narrowly to the original and so interpret all the more faithfully, I am
explaining some things more clearly than they are in the French. Occasionally I am
formulating matters more fully, as I should have done if I had written in Latin. When
I return to Hanover - for I am now at work in Wolfenbiittel - I shall send the work
back to you. is
I come now to your philosophical points. If we accept substantial beings in addition
to the monads, or admit some kind of real union, I feel that a union which makes an
animal or any organic body of nature a substantial unity with one dominant monad
is far different from a union which makes it a simple aggregate such as a pile of stones.
The latter consists in a mere union of presence or of place, the former in a union
constituting a new substantiation; the Scholastics call it a one per se, while they call
the former a one per accidens. I nowhere said that monads otherwise unchanged
would now constitute a horse and now not constitute one, for since a monad always
expresses within itself its relations to all others, it will perceive far different things
when it is in a horse than in a dog. That it depends upon a substance does not suffice
to define the nature of an accident, for a composite substance also depends on simple
substances or monads; we must add that an accident depends on a substance as a
subject and, indeed, as ultimate subject. For an accident can be the affection of another
accident; for example, the magnitude of heat or of impetus, so that the impetus is the
subject and the magnitude is in it as an abstraction from the predicate, when we say
that the impetus is great or is so much. Yet heat or impetus is in the body as in a
subject, and the ultimate subject is always the substance. Every accident is a kind of
abstraction; only substance is concrete. Accidents can also have concrete predicates,
as when an impetus is called great, but they themselves are not concrete but abstracted
from the predicates of substances.

Furthermore, since the composite substance or the thing which the chain of monads
makes is not a mere modification of the monads and does not exist in them as subjects -
for of course, the same modification cannot be in many subjects at the same time -
I should hold that this substance depends on the monads, not in a logical dependence,
that is, in such a way that it cannot be separated from them even supernaturally but
merely in a natural dependence or in such a way that it strives to unite in a composite
substance unless God wills otherwise. For God can use the same substance to unite
other monads, so that it stops uniting the former ones; he can also remove it entirely
and substitute for it another one, uniting other monads, and this either in such a way
that it stops uniting the other monads and is transferred from one set of monads to
another or in such a way that it retains its own monads, which it unites naturally, but
now also unites new ones supernaturally. And according to your views, it seems this
is what must be said of the change of the whole substance of a corporeal body into
the whole substance of another body which at the same time retains its former
nature.
Let us come now to the real accidents which are in this unifying thing as their
subject. You will agree, I believe, that some of them are only its modifications, which
disappear when it is removed. But you ask whether there are not certain accidents
which are more than modifications. Such accidents seem, however, to be entirely
superfluous, and whatever is in such a substance other than a modification seems to
pertain to the substantial thing itself. I do not see how we can distinguish an abstrac-
tion from the concrete, or from the subject in which it is; or how we can explain
intelligibly what it is to be in or to inhere in a subject, except by considering inherence
as a mode or state of a subject - a mode which may be either essential, so that it
cannot change unless the nature of the substance changes, and differs from the sub-
stance only relatively, or which may be accidental, in which case it is called a modi-
fication and can come into being and perish while the subject remains. If you know
another way of explaining inherence, I ask you to suggest it, for the issue hangs upon
it. If this cannot be done, it must be feared that by saying that real accidents are
conserved, you are truly conserving the substance, and thus the whole substance will
not be transmuted. Hence, if I remember rightly, the Greeks also deny that real acci-
dents are conserved, for they fear that then both nature and substance will be con-
served together. .
You say that it seems there can be no middle being between a substance and a mo-
dification. I should think that this middle being is the substantiated unity per se, or the
composite substance, for it is the mean between a simple substance - or that which
primarily deserves the name substance - and the modification. The simple substance 19
is perpetual; the substantiated can come into being and perish or can change. An
accident is that which arises and ceases, while the substance is changed but itself
remains. Besides, an accident is incapable of a new modification per se, that is, it is
capable of it only per accidens or insofar as it is in a substance modified through
another which is also accidental. For example, the same impetus or heat that is in the
body A is now present in body B, now absent from it, because of the presence or
absence from it of body A. But the same impetus cannot be greater or less, for while
the former remains the same, a new degree is added as well, and the consequent total
is different from the preceding total. Likewise, the same impetus cannot be sent first
in this direction, then in that, for a new impetus added to the former will also have
another direction and will thus determine a new total direction, both of the partial
ones remaining. But the total impetus, itself composed of the others, will also provide
a new total.
Granting these things, I should think that your theory of transubstantiation can be
explained by retaining the monads, which seem to fit the reason and order of the uni-
verse perfectly, but with a substantial chain added by God to unite the body of Christ
to the monads of bread and wine, and the former substantial chain destroyed, and
its modifications and accidents with it. Thus there would remain only the phenomena
of the monads of bread and wine, which would have been there if no substantial chain
had been added by God to these monads. But even if the bread or the wine is not a
substantiated being constituting a unity per se and hence is not unified by a substantial
chain, it is still an aggregate of organic bodies or substances constituting a unity per
se, whose substantial chains would be destroyed and replaced by the substantial chain
of the body of Christ. ...
... You ask why, if real extension is not necessary, primary matter is necessary and
why the entelechy alone does not make up the monad. I reply that if there are only
monads with their perceptions, primary matter will be nothing but the passive power
of the monads, and entelechy will be their active power. But when you add composite
substances, I must say that there must be added to these a principle ofresistance to the
active principle or motive force. You ask further: Why actually an infinity of monads?
I reply that the mere possibility of an infinity is enough to establish this, since it is
manifest how very rich are the works of God. But the order of things also demands it,
for otherwise phenomena would not correspond to all assignable percipients. Indeed,
we know some confusedness in our perceptions, however distinct they may be, and so
there are monads corresponding to these confused ones as there are monads corres-
ponding to the greater and more distinct ones. Finally, you ask why fruit appears
round rather than square if it is not really extended. I reply that fruit is itself only a
phenomenon, since it is a being by aggregation.
x. LEIBNIZ TO DES BOSSES

[G., II, 473-75]
Vienna, Austria, January 24,1713
You ask how the opinion of your order about transubstantiation [llspi TOO jJ8TOVGI-
aGlloO] can be explained, both according to the hypothesis of mere monads and
according to the hypothesis of compound substances. Following the former hypothesis,
you ask in what the substance of a composite body consists, whether in monads or
even in the phenomena themselves. That is, you ask, for example, whether the soul
of a worm existing in the body of a man is a substantial part of the human body, or
whether it is rather a bare requisite, and that not by metaphysical necessity but only
because it is required in the course 20 of nature; this is the view which I should prefer.
But if you assert the former, then we must say that the monads of bread and wine are
destroyed and the monads of the body of Christ put in their place. If monads are not
substantial parts of bodies, however, and composite beings are mere phenomena, it
would have to be said that the substances of bodies consist in true phenomena - phe-
nomena, namely, which God himself perceives in them through intuition [scientia
visionis], as do also angels and the blessed, to whom it is given to see things truly. So

God and the blessed would perceive the body of Christ where only bread and wine
appear to us.
But if we should follow the popular hypothesis about corporeal or composite
substances, I should say, as I have already expressed my opinion in my preceding
letter, that a substantial chain or a substantial addition to the monads, which formally
constitutes the compound substance and reifies the phenomena, can be changed
while the monads themselves remain, because, as I have said, the soul of the little
worm is not of the substance of the body which contains the worm, and we ought not
to multiply miracles beyond necessity. A substantial chain superadded to the monads
is in my opinion something absolute, such that although it corresponds accurately,
in the course of nature, to the affections of the monads, that is, to their perceptions and
appetites, and can therefore be taken to be within the monad in whose body its body
is, it can nevertheless be independent of the monads in a supernatural sense and can be
removed and adapted to other monads while its former monads remain. Thus the
monads of bread and wine would then be without any substantial chain, the matter
being reduced, as far as they are concerned, to the state of the hypothesis of mere
monads. The accidents of bread and wine, or the phenomena, would remain, more-
over, but not in the body of Christ as subject .... In your fifth point and elsewhere in
your letter 21 you seem to have taken substantial chains in a different sense than I
have, as if I think of them as having existed from the beginning of creation when I
treat them as absolute entities. But if corporeal substances or substantial chains are
admitted, my opinion must be taken to be that they are subject to generation and
corruption. I have also adopted no new modification of monads, whether substantial
or accidental, which will constitute composite substance, as you seem to interpret
me in your Item 6, and I recognize nothing in the monads except perceptions and
appetitions. I should be unwilling to call the chain which makes up a compound
substance an absolute accident, because I hold every absolute to be substantial. If
you wish to make it an accident, however, we shall be quarreling over a name, although
there wiIl be some incongruity in saying that a compound substance is constituted
through accidents. When Smiglecius follows Aristotle in saying that no accident is
without a subject, he shows that he does not admit an absolute being. I should also
prefer not to distinguish, as you seem to do in Item 7, between a being that reifies
phenomena and a substantial chain. These two things are truly the same for me, and
we must say that they come into being and perish. If compound substances are assumed,
therefore, it seems to me incomparably easier and more convenient to destroy the
being which actualizes phenomena, while saving the monads, than to do the contrary,
as you seem to prefer in Item 8.
The modifications of one monad are the ideal causes of the modifications of other
monads (with this you deal in Item 17), insofar as there appear in one monad reasons
which moved God from the beginning of things to establish modifications in another
monad.
In the hypothesis of mere monads, the infinitude of the physical continuum would
depend not so much on the principle of the best as on the principle of sufficient reason,
because there is no reason for limiting or ending, or stopping anywhere. The mathe-
matical continuum consists in mere possibility, as do numbers; hence infinity is ne-
cessarily implied in its very concept.
For the rest, you will be surprised to see these letters from Vienna, Austria. I
decided to continue my journey here after I recently answered a summons to Karlsbad

from the great monarch of Russia, for I had already finished half of the journey. I
shall remain here until the season becomes moderate; then I hope by the goodness
of God to return home. 22
XI. LEIBNIZ TO DES BOSSES

[G., II, 485-86]
Vienna, April 21, 1714
.,. It is worth inquiring into what can be contrived that will be appropriate to justify
the reality of a phenomenon outside of the percipient being, or what constitutes a
composite substance. So far as I can judge, it will have to consist of the primitive
active and passive power of the composite being, and this will be what is called primary
matter and substantial form. And it will be necessary for the accidents of the com-
posite being to be its modifications; these will be transitory, but it itself will remain
a composite substance, as much as will the dominant monad. But it will not be a com-
posite substance, or a true being constituting a unity per se, unless there is a domi-
nant monad with a living organic body.
What you say about this substantial chain supervening upon a composite being
already constituted through modal chains, I interpret in the sense that, cut away from
the composite substance, the monads constitute a unity only per accidens; but if I
am not mistaken, this unity per accidens will be a mere phenomenon. For since no
modification can subsist by itself but essentially entails a substantial subject, these
chains will have what reality they possess in the modification of each monad and in
the harmony or agreement of the monads with each other. I do not believe that you
will admit an accident that is in two subjects at the same time. My judgment about
relations is that paternity in David is one thing, sonship in Solomon another, but that
the relation common to both is a merely mental thing whose basis is the modifications
of the individuals ....
XII. LEIBNIZ TO DES BOSSES
[G., II, 492]
Hanover, March 15,1715
This winter I have experienced a rather severe case of gout, from which I have not yet
fully recovered, and so I have painfully carried out only necessary labors which
permitted no delay. But since there always remains a hope at bottom, I do not despair
of recovering my health.
I fear that the man who wrote in favor of physical predetermination in the action of
God on creatures will complicate notions rather than bring light to them. 23 That acts
are not absolute things but modifications of an entelechy or primitive conatus, I
believe to be obvious, and this must be said not only of the will but also of every
faculty of action. We rightly regard bodies as things, for phenomena too are real. But
anyone who tries to consider bodies as substances will, I believe, need some new
principle of real union.
The Irishman who attacks the reality of bodies seems neither to offer suitable
reasons nor to explain his position sufficiently. I suspect that he belongs to the class
of men who want to be known for their paradoxes. 24 •••

XIII. DES BOSSES TO LEIBNIZ

[G., II, 493]
Cologne, April 6, 1715
... You seem not to have noticed a small objection made in one of my earlier letters,
the answer to which I should like from you. It is this. In the hypothesis that there is
something reifying phenomena which is distinct from the monads and their percep-
tions, I asked what brings about the change of the phenomena within the body
itself. If God, this will be a perpetual miracle; if the monads, then the body will in
some way depend upon monads, etc.
I add another objection about the pre-established harmony. If the monads of the
universe get their perceptions out of their own store, so to speak, and without any
physical influence of one upon the other; if, furthermore, the perceptions of each
monad correspond exactly to the rest of the monads which God has already created,
and to the perceptions of these monads, and are harmonized so as to represent them;
it follows that God could not create anyone of these monads which thus exist without
constructing all the others which equally exist now, for God can by no means bring it
about that the natural perception and representation of the monads should be in
error; their perception would be in error, however, if it were applied to nonexistent
monads as if they existed. But if it is true that God could not do this, I do not see
why we should so greatly praise the divine wisdom in the selection and organization
of things with each other. For once any monad whatever, even the smallest which he
produced, was chosen, God was necessitated to produce all the rest, just as he was
necessitated not to deceive rational creatures or not to put error into them, or just
as he was necessitated to attune the outcome to his promises ....
XIV. LEIBNIZ TO DES BOSSES

[G., II, 495-96]
Hanover, April 29, 1715
... Your objections are usually shrewd, and I am always grateful for them. Assuming
that there is a real union, reifying, or better, substantializing phenomena, you ask
what brings about changes in the body itself. I reply that since the body, if it is held
to be a substance, can only be that which results from the real union of monads, there
will result from the union also the modifications which it will have, corresponding to
the changes in the monads; and to this extent they will take place as is popularly
taught. The monads influence this reifler, but it itself will change nothing in their laws,
for whatever modifications it will receive from them it will have as an echo, as it were,
but naturally and not formally or essentially, since God can ascribe to it what the
monads do not give, and take away from it what they do give. The arguments which
can be advanced against this will all be valid against the common doctrine of corpo-
real substance, or against everything substantial which can be superadded to the
monads. Doubtless if there is something substantial besides monads, this ought to
be capable of its own modifications, and it will have these naturally in dependence
upon the monads which it unites, supernaturally from God, who can separate it from
these monads. So while you say that it must have its modifications either from God
by a perpetual miracle, or from the monads, I say it has them naturally and for the
most part from the monads, but miraculously and rarely from God, who is able to
make it respond to monads which were not formerly its own. If any real chain is
possible, an influence of the units upon it is necessarily possible; otherwise there will
be no reason for calling it a chain of these units. For the rest, it will not be necessary
to assume a chain except in bodies which have a dominant monad, or which are
unities per se like organic bodies, and this chain will always adhere to this monad.
Your other objection is the following:
If all monads get their perceptions out of their own store, so to speak, and without any physical
influence of one upon another; if, furthermore, the perceptions of each monad correspond
exactly to the rest of the monads which God has now created, and to their perceptions; then
God cannot have created anyone of these monads which now exist without having constituted
all of the rest, etc.
My reply is easy and has already been given. He can do it absolutely; he cannot do it
hypothetically, because he has decreed that all things should function most wisely
and harmoniously. There would be no deception of rational creatures, however, even
if everything outside of them did not correspond exactly to their experiences, or
indeed if nothing did, just as if there were only one mind; because everything would
happen just as if all other things existed, and this mind, acting with reason, would not
charge itself with any fault. For this is not to err. That the probable judgment which
this mind formed of the existence of other creatures should be true, however, would
no more be necessary than it was necessary that the earth should stand still because,
with few exceptions, the whole human race once held this to be right. Not from
necessity, therefore, but by the wisdom of God does it happen that judgments formed
upon the best appearances, and after full discussion, are true....
XV. DES BOSSES TO LEIBNIZ

[G., II, 500-502]
Cologne, July 20,1715
... To reply to your last letter. I think with you that if there is some real chain in bodies,
more distinct from the monads than a mode, and if this is possible, there must ne-
cessarily be, or be possible, an influence of the units upon it. Otherwise, as you say,
there would be no ground for calling it their chain. I also think it is not necessary
to assume this chain except in bodies which have a dominant monad, or which are
unities per se, like organisms, to whose monad or whole there should always adhere
a chain. The monads therefore influence the reifying being; this latter, however, will
bring about no change in the laws of the monads, since, whatever modifications it has,
it will have from them as if an echo, as you have so carefully explained.
Yet from these things it seems we can conclude, in fact, that this chain, however
real, cannot be substantial. For you hold that the substantial (or at least the non-
modal) is a power or principle of action, and this does not seem applicable to this
real chain whose modifications are like echoes. Furthermore, once it is established
that this chain is not substantial, the matter is settled and the way is wide open for
explaining the Eucharist. Nor do I see why it should not be possible for something to
be real which is not substantial; if this is possible, however, it has certainly not been
overlooked by God in the production of the world, unless we accept what is called
a vacuum of forms.

To your answer to my other argument, which was not unexpected, I answer in two
ways. In the first place, even apart from the existence and wisdom of God, we seem
able to conclude that, more than probably, there exist other creatures than ourselves.
For will you deny that even an atheist has a knowledge of the existence of his own
body? I remember that I once sent to you certain propositions prohibited in our
schools by Michaelangelo Tambourino, who is today the head of our Society. Let me
repeat here several of them which bear upon the present issue.
1. That the human mind can and should doubt everything except that it thinks.
2. That all other things can be known and examined by us only when we have
acknowledged that God exists and is supremely good and not a deceiver who tries to
lead our mind into error.
3. That, before the certain knowledge of the divine existence, one can and should
always doubt whether he has not been so constituted by nature as to err in all his
judgments, even in those which seem to be most certain and evident.
5. That it is only through faith in God that anyone can know with certainty that
there exist other bodies, even his own.
My second point bears on the divine wisdom, about which I made a suggestion in
my argument which you have not noticed or at least have left untouched. To expound
this, I ask whether or not there be possible any system similar to the present world
with respect to all phenomena but in which substances act upon each other. If you
deny this, show me why; if you admit it, then I argue as follows. It seems in greater
conformity with the divine wisdom to choose a system of this kind in preference to
another composed of mere monads which do not influence each other. Therefore God
has really established the former, not the latter, system. The consequent holds by
your principles; the antecedent I argue for as follows. In the system of pre-established
harmony, the whole reason for the divine architectonic wisdom (at least if we stay
within natural events) consists in the choice of working materials. In the common
system, however, it turns also about the form of the work and its composition, apart
from the choice of material itself, so that it can be said that the work excels over the
material, and this last seems preferable and more worthy of infinite wisdom. To illustrate
this by an example, I ask further which architect will deserve credit for greater wisdom
in his art, one whose entire craftsmanship consists in his choosing stones that are not
only already exactly square but also so fitted to each other by their nature that a most
magnificent palace is put together out of them because of the mere fact that they have
been brought together in one place, without the further labor of architect or craftsman,
just as the poets narrate that the Theban walls sprang up to the lyre of Amphion. Or
is that architect rather to be preferred who constructs an equally beautiful palace from
stones unfinished by nature and not corresponding to each other in such harmony, but
which must be fitted by craftsmanship and adjusted in time and place? ...
I add one point to the account. It seems gratuitous to assume these monads which
draw all their modifications out of their own store, and without a physical influence
of one upon another, just as the assumption proved gratuitous that there was a certain
Scholastic quality whose nature it was to be produced and to produce all the effects of
heat, for example, independently of any mechanism or of the concourse of the re-
maining bodies which surrounded it, etc. The more recent philosophers usually hiss such
a quality from the stage....
XVI. LEIBNIZ TO DES BOSSES

[G., II, 502-5]

Your observations are keen, and I reply to them with pleasure, for they instruct me
and throw light on the problem. I shall begin with the latter part. We conclude with
the highest probability that we are not the only existents, not only from the principle
of the divine wisdom, but also from that common principle which I have frequently
urged - that nothing happens without a reason; for there appears to be no reason why
we alone should be preferred above all other possible beings. But whether bodies are
substances is another question. For it is possible that bodies are not substances, yet
that all men are prone to consider that they are, just as everyone is prone to consider
that the earth is standing still, even though it is really moving.
I do not recall that you sent me the propositions prohibited by your general pre-
sident, Tambourino. Those which you now send me seem to be in opposition to Des-
cartes, and I agree fully with them. You give the fifth but omit the fourth. I should
be glad to get them all. Honoratus Fabri, in certain published letters, recounted the
prohibitions in effect when he was active.
I do not believe a system is possible in which the monads act upon each other
mutually, for there seems to be no possible way to explain such action. I add that
influence is superfluous, for why should one monad give another what it already
possesses? It is the very nature of substance that the present is great with the future
and that everything can be understood out of one, at least if God does not intervene
with a miracle.
In reply to your analogy, I admit that the architect who rightly fits stones together
acts with greater art than one who has found the stones already so prepared by some-
one else that they fall into order when merely brought together. But on the other hand,
I believe you will admit that the craftsmanship of the architect who can so prepare
stones in advance will be infinitely greater still.
As an addition you say that it is gratuitous to assume monads which receive their
modifications from their own resources, just as it is gratuitous to say that heat acts
without a mechanism. But your point here is not merely an addition; it is primary.
If you think this, we must go back to the beginning, as if I had written nothing. Besides,
monads draw everything from their own resources, not mysteriously, as heat in the
Scholastic sense produces its effect, but by a certain eminent mechanism, so to speak,
which is the foundation and the concentration of the bodily mechanism; thus the way
in which the one follows from the other can be explained.
I was right in presupposing this, for if there are no monads such as I think of them,
it is vain to discuss a chain of them. I come now to the question of whether this chain,
if there is one, is something substantial. It seems so to me, and I consider it useless
otherwise, for how could it otherwise make up a composite substance, this being the
very reason for which it was introduced? But you object, first, that it is not a principle
of action, since it is like an echo. I also reply that a body which returns an echo is a
principle of action. This chain will be the principle of action of composite substance,
and whoever admits such substance - as does the entire School, if I am not mistaken -
will also admit this chain. Have not the Scholastics until now acknowledged sub-
stantial principles in compounds which constitute a unity per se? Why then deny it to us?

You say that you cannot see why something cannot be real without being substantial.
Here we may be arguing about terms. Whatever is not a modification can be called a
substance. But a modification is connected essentially to that whose modification it is.
So there can be no modification without a subject; for example, no sitting without a
sitter. But substantial can also be defined in another way, as the source of modifications.
Assuming this, we may ask whether there can be a thing which is neither a modification
nor a source of modifications - such as the Scholastics think of as accidents, which,
they say, are in a subject naturally but not essentially, since they can be without a
subject by the absolute power of God. But I do not yet see how such a thing can be
explained if it is different from my substantial chain, which is truly in the subject,
though not as an accident but as what the Scholastics call a substantial form, or as a
source of modifications - if you like, after the manner of an echo. So I do not know
whether there may be a categorial accident [accidens praedicamentale] really distinct
from the subject, which is not a categorial accident, or whether there is a categorial
accident which is not a modification; since I have already questioned that there is a
categorial accident distinct from a subject, which is not a modification. Unless perhaps
someone should hold that an accident makes up such a composite substantial being
because it is not a primary source but an echo. But in this way I do not see how we
can maintain the substance of a composite being, unless we want to regard substance
as the result of accidents. In that case, however, I do not see how you explain partici-
pation. Therefore I should prefer to say that there are no substances over and above
monads, but only appearances, but that these are not illusory, like a dream, or like a
sword pointing at us out of a concave mirror, or like Doctor Faust eating up a cartful
of hay, but that they are true phenomena, that is, in the sense that a rainbow or
parhelion is an appearance, and, in fact, in the sense that colors are appearances
according to the Cartesians and in reality. It can be said that composite beings which
are not a unity per se or are not held together by a substantial chain or (as the juris-
consult Alfenus, following the Stoics, said in his Digests) by one spirit are semientities.
Aggregates of simple substances such as an army or a pile of stones are semientities;
colors, odors, tastes, etc., are semiaccidents. All these things would be mere pheno-
mena, though real, if there were only monads without substantial chains.
Furthermore, to have monads, or to have such monads, is itself natural, though not
essential but only accidental, to composite substance. For it could happen that the
absolute power of God should cause the echo to cease, and the monads would be
separated from the composite substance. If then, according to your hypotheses, the
substantial chains of organic bodies, or of the unities per se included in the bread and
wine, were destroyed by God, while the monads and phenomena remained, the
accidents of bread and wine would be left, but only as mere phenomena, not by some
illusion but in such a way as would happen everywhere if there were no substantial
chains in nature. For certainly everything will continue in the same way with respect
to these monads of bread and wine as if there had never been any substantial chain
between them. But the substantial chains of the monads of the body of Christ will
have an influence upon the substantial chains of the monads of our body, which they
would otherwise have had on the substantial chains of bread and wine, with the result
that we perceive the substance of the body and blood of Christ. For the substantial
chains of the former monads will have been removed, and after the phenomena of
bread and wine have ceased or their appearances are destroyed, they cannot be restored
such as they previously were but only as they would have developed if no destruction
had taken place. 25 •••
REFERENCES
1 For the origins of this doctrine among Jesuit Scholastics see J. Boehm, Le "Vinculum sub-
stantiale" chez Leibniz: Ses origines historiques, Paris 1938. It had arisen in answer to an alleged
ambiguity in Aristotle's analysis of substance as a combination of form and matter. Taking the
totality of a corporeal being in the double sense of a unified essential nature and of continuous
extension, that is, of the totum essentiale and the totum integrale, these thinkers set up a unifying
principle which adheres to, but does not inhere in, matter and which is to be regarded as a
substantial form determining both composite essence and extension. Needless to say, this
principle does not conform to Leibniz's previous application of the doctrine of substantial
forms, and the theory is extraneous to his monadism and imposed upon it only with difficulty.
2 In preceding letters (February 14 and April 22, 1709) Des Bosses had raised questions resting
in part upon a failure to distinguish between primary and secondary matter in Leibniz's thought.
His argument was as follows: (1) Leibniz has said that matter has existed from the beginning
of creation; therefore, the entelechies which are inseparable from matter must also have existed
from the beginning of creation. (2) Leibniz has also admitted, in De natura ipse (No. 53), that
the souls of animals may not have been created until the fourth day, and therefore the matter
essential to their nature could not have existed earlier. (3) As a result, the original primary matter
will belong to two entelechies and therefore not to the soul alone, or one entelechy will have to
be destroyed, contrary to Leibniz's principles. (4) And would not the new monads, with their
matter, increase the total amount of mass in the world? And if so, how can mass be dependent
only upon the relati ve location of the matter inhering in individual monads?
3 This is the date in Dut., but G. gives April 24, only two days after Des Bosses's letter to
which it replies.
4 The book against Bayle is the Theodi cy, for which Leibniz was seeking a publisher and which
appeared the next year. He had written Des Bosses about this project on September 3, 1708,
saying that he had intended to give it to him to read before his departure. Des Bosses later
prepared the Latin translation, a project supervised by Leibniz to the point of submitting
revisions appropriate to the Latin-reading public. This translation was not published until 1719.
On the Popess Joan, alleged to have occupied the chair of St. Peter in the obscure period
between Leo IV (d. 855) and Benedict III (d. 858), see the extensive article of that title in Bayle's
Dictionary. The story was still common in Protestant circles, and Leibniz's study, though not
published, was a conclusive refutation.
5 This note was added in Leibniz's copy but probably not sent in the letter.
6 This was in the writings on physics in 1670-71 (see No.8, I).
7 In the intervening correspondence the problem of the individual nature of composite bodies
came to a head when Des Bosses proposed (January 28,1712 [G.,II, 433]) that, though extension
does not constitute the essence of a body, it is a real, not a modal, accident and that this
presupposes a substantial or constitutive being different from either matter or entelechy. "If
you were to grant me this one real accident, I should not fear to consign what remains to modes."
8 On September 8, 1709, Leibniz had written: "To your question about my method of explain-
ing the Eucharist, I reply that there is no place in our opinion, either for transubstantiation or
for consubstantiation of the bread; but only for the view that when the bread is received, the
body of Christ is perceived, and thus that only the presence of the body of Christ is to be
explained. I have already explained to Tournemine that a presence is something metaphysical,
like a union, which is not to be explained through phenomena" (G., 11,390).
9 The late Scholastic verb realizo and its derivatives, which are so important in defining the
substantial chain, Leibniz had called a barbarism in No. 51.
10 Reading substantia (Dut., Erd.) for substantiae (G.).
11 See note 4, above.

12 The interpretation of St. Augustine by Cornelius Jansen (1585-1638), whose Augustinus
was published posthumously at Louvain in 1640 and became the rallying point of the Jansenist
movement, remained controversial in spite of the suppression of the Port Royal group. In his
last letter Des Bosses had discussed the condemnation of Jansen's work by the church (G.,
11,442).
14 In developing his reply further, Des Bosses quotes at some length the Jesuits Perez (De
incarnatione disputatio) on the analysis of body and Sebastian Izquierdo on the problem of the
Theodicy.
15 Cf. Theodicy, Preface (G., VI, 29), and Secs. 348-49 and 384 (G., VI, 321, 343).
16 Reading ratio for fatio (G.).
17 This letter is a reply to one by Des Bosses written August 28, 1712 (G., II, 452-56), in which
he argues (1) for a real union which actuates the monads constituting a horse, for example, and
further (2) that this unifying being is a nonmodal accident. His specific arguments are clearly
restated by Leibniz.
18 This is another reference to the Latin version of the Theodicy.
19 Leibniz's marginal note: "The concrete can be distinguished into the accidental (as warm,
warm man) and the substantial. The substantial I divide further into simple substances, such
as God, angel, soul, and substantiated beings. Substantiated beings are divided into unities per
se or composite substances, and unities per accidens or aggregates."
20 Reading cursu (Dut.) for ursu (G.).
21 Of December 12, 1712(G., II, 462ff.).
22 As the following letter shows, Leibniz did not at once return home from Vienna. On
August 23, 1713, he wrote to Des Bosses: "I am preparing for the journey to Hanover, but I
do not know by what detours, for Vienna is quarantined for fear of contagion. However I have
so far seen no one dying or dead; the plague is raging among the common people where it is fed
by terror and squalor. Unless the evil should grow worse, the Emperor refuses to leave,
whatever is urged by those who serve this great ruler. But so a supreme ruler acts; he has more
than once discussed with me how a society of sciences can be established with its seat in Vienna,
but in such a way that it will have members from elsewhere."
23 In his letter of January 19, 1715 (G., II, 491), Des Bosses had reported on a work published
in HolIand in 1714 entitled De raction de dieu sur les creatures, which contained a new way of
defending physical predeterminism on the ground that voluntary acts are not modifications
but things.
24 The only known reference in Leibniz's writings to George Berkeley. Kabitz has published
a few critical marginal notes from Leibniz's copy of the Treatise concerning the Principles of
Human Know/edge in the Sitzungsberichte d. Preuss. Akad. d. Wis., 1932.
25 The correspondence continued until Leibniz's death, but the essential issues and arguments
have appeared at this point.
Supplement 10 Letter XK
A permanent absolutecrea.ture:,which therefore is neither activity-passivity nor relation. is:
.A unity per se: a full being A unity by aggregation, a semi being: '
or phenomenon
Substance or Modification
r--A
;I;
Simple, a Composite (like Ofamonad. Of composite Semisubstance, Semiaccident; appearance
>
Z
monad,lik~ animals or other which arises substance, a collection of or collection of the o
minds, souls, organic beings) from its own which arises substances, such 'modifications of <:
which are which always re- resources and outofthis as the choir of substances tTl
subject to mains unchanged consists ex- mutual jnflu~ angels, an army :<l
no influence and adheres (0 a clusively of ence and con- of men, a herd
Primary or Secondary
"""' or physical. c:
by other dominant monad perception sists of derivative of animals, a fish~
united; i. e., whose reason depends on an Z
creatures. but is subject and appetite. active and pas- pond, a house, a
derivative occult mechanism. a sensible
to the influence sivepowers .rock, a cadaver. tTl
power accident. as it were: color,
of other compos- when bodies Hence they are: :<l
"
odor, taste; also sympathy.
ite substances. collide aecor- antipathy. etc, Such a quality
It consists of ac- ding to the Passive, Active Cl
Devoid of or Possessed is in tum tTl
tive and passive Jaws of motion, resistance impetus
cohesion ofcohesion o
power originally. that is, in through mag-
(herd, (pond, :<l
or consists of primary forces and re- nitudeand Passive, such as Active. as
"group) house) Cl
matter, i.e., the prin- sistances throughout figure; in firmness, fluidity, he4t,cold. tTl
ciple of resistance, their magnitudes other words, roughness. malleability; gravity.
Both are throughout and perceptible elasticity t"'
and of substantial and figures. o
form, i.e,. the princi- its determinate
ple of impetus. For we Natural Artificial te"t.ure. Immediately,-as By its effect, S
must recognize that new (heap of (army, warmth, gravity, such as magnetic ..'"
force is not given to sand. rock, house) hardness and elastic force,
bodies but that the tree trunk) vo1atility 0-
force inherent in them \0
is merely determined or
modified by others. When
-
00
I
one body collides with another,
it impels that body by determining -...I
the inherent elastic force 0-
which arises from internal motion,
--
in a way that can be seen when two equal inflated balls,
colliding with equal velocity, are restored to rest through
the collision and then resume motion through their inherent elastic
force. The same thing happens in every collision, for nature never acts through a leap,
nor does
any body ever make a sudden transition from rest to motion or from faster to slower
motion, or the
opposite; it changes by intermediate steps, and this happens through elastic force or the
motion ~
of a fluid permeating it. -...I
64
CONVERSATION OF PHI LA RETE AND ARISTE,

FOLLOWING A CONVERSATION OF
ARISTE AND THEODORE
Ca. 1711
It is significant that at the same time at which he was defining his thought in Scholastic
forms in the correspondence with Des Bosses, Leibniz had not abandoned the more
popular exposition of his views in relation to Cartesian thought. This dialogue is the most
successful of several criticisms of Malebranche; in form it is a continuation of that
thinker's Entretiens sur la metaphysique et sur la religion. published in 1688. 1 In this
work Malebranche himself appears as Theodore, who had expounded his opinions to
Ariste; Leibniz's views are presented by Philarete.
The exact date of the dialogue is not known. though it seems to have been written
shortly after the Theodicy.In 1715 Leibniz sent it to Remond (see the letter of July 29.
1715 [G., III. 645]) as "a little dialogue on some opinions of the Reverend Faiher
Malebranche". Des Maizeau, who received it from Remond. published it in 1720 with
the title Examen des Principes du R. P. Malebranche; Leibniz's own manuscript bears
the title translated above.
[G., VI, 579-94]
After Theodore had left, Ariste received a visit from his old friend Philarete, a highly
esteemed doctor of the Sorbonne who had once taught philosophy and theology in the
Scholastic manner but who nonetheless did not scorn the discoveries of the moderns
but approached them with much caution and accuracy. He had entered into a kind
of retreat in order the better to give himself to the exercises of piety, and at the same
time he was at work putting the truths of religion in their true light, seeking to correct
and to perfect their proofs. This led him to a rigorous examination of the proofs
which were developed, to determine how they needed to be strengthened.
Ariste, seeing him, cried out: What an appropriate time for you to call, my dear
Philarete, after so long an interruption of our acquaintance. I have just ended a charm-
ing discussion at which I wish you might have been present. That profound philo-
sopher, that excellent theologian, Theodore, has completely carried me away. He has
taken me out of this corporeal and corruptible world into one intelligible and eternal.
Yet, when I think without him, I fall back easily into myoId prejudices, and sometimes
I do not know where I stand. No one is more able than you to fix me and to enable
me to decide surely and with coolness, so to speak. For I must confess that the great
and beautiful expressions of Theodore stir and elevate me but that after he leaves me,
I no longer know why I was lifted so high, and I feel a kind of dizziness which confuses
me.
Philarete. I am well acquainted with Theodore's worth through his works, which
contain great and beautiful thoughts; many of them have been well verified, but there
are also some, and these among the most fundamental, which still need further
clarification. I have no doubt that he has told you a thousand things fitted to help
you in the excellent plan which I hear you have formed of leaving the vanities of the
world, the deafening noise of people, and the vain and often evil conversations of the
worldly, to give yourself up to such sound meditations as bind us to virtue and lead
us to happiness. What I have heard of this happy change of yours has led me to pay you
this visit to renew our old ties, and you could not have given me a better opportunity to
begin and to show you my devotion than by speaking at once of the very things which
have been the object of my own thinking for a long time and which should be one of
the most interesting objects of yours. If you could recall the substance of Theodore's
conversation, perhaps I could help you develop some of the concepts which he has
given you, and he will himself finish by clarifying and grounding afterward whatever
still seems obscure or doubtful to you.
A. I am delighted with your help, and I shall try to summarize in substance what
Theodore has told me. But do not expect from me the charm attached to every-
thing which he said. He undertook first to show me that the I who thinks is not a
body, since thoughts are not in any sense modifications of extension, and it is in ex-
tension that the essence of the body consists. I asked him to prove to me that my
body is nothing but extension; when I heard him, it seemed to me that he did prove it,
but his proof has somehow escaped me. It will return bit by bit, however. Extension,
he told me, is all that is needed in order to form the body. He added also that if God
were to destroy extension, the body would be destroyed as well.
Ph. Philosophers who are not Cartesians will not agree that extension is enough
to form a body; they will demand something more which the ancients called antitypy,
that, namely, which makes one body impenetrable to another. According to them,
bare extension is only the place, or the space, which the body occupies. It seems to me,
in fact, that when Descartes and his followers try to refute this opinion, they merely
make assumptions - or, to call the thing by its name, they beg the question.
A. But don't you find that, since the assumption of the destruction of space involves
that of body, it proves that body consists only of extension?
Ph. It proves only that extension enters into the essence or nature of a body but
not that it is its whole essence; just so, magnitude enters into the essence of extension
but does not suffice for extension, since number, time, and motion also have magnitude
yet are different from extension. If God were to destroy all actual magnitude, he would
destroy extension, but in producing magnitude, he might produce only time, without
producing extension. Likewise with extension and body - in destroying extension, God
would destroy body, but in producing only extension, he might perhaps produce only
space without body, at least according to men whom the Cartesians have not yet
well refuted.
A. I am sorry not to have noticed this difficulty at once, but I shall make a note to
suggest it to Theodore. However, if I remember rightly, he gave me yet another ar-
gument tending toward the same conclusion, but this one seemed very subtle to me,
since it was taken from the nature of substance. Theodore proved to me that extension
is a substance and, I believe, tried to infer that body could be only extension, since
otherwise it would consist of more than one substance. But I should not guarantee
that this was Theodore's argument. I can be deceiving myself into giving his words a
context different from what was in his mind; I shall find out about this.

Ph. I find some difficulty, once more, in this conclusion which you attribute to
Theodore, even if only with some misgiving. For you know that the Peripatetics regard
a body as composed of two substantial principles, matter and form. So we should have
to prove that it is impossible for a body to be composed at once of two substances,
that is, of extension - if we agree that extension is a substance - and of some other
substance as well. But let us see how Theodore proved that extension is a substance;
this is a very important point.
A. I shall try to remember. Whatever one can conceive by itself, without thinking
of anything else, or without using the idea which represents something else, or better,
whatever one can conceive by itself as existing independently of anything else, is a
substance. And whatever one cannot conceive alone, or without thinking of some
other being, is a mode of being, or a modification of substance. This is what we mean
when we say that a substance is a being which subsists in itself. We have no other way
to distinguish substances from modifications. Now Theodore showed me that I could
think of extension without thinking of anything else.
Ph. This definition of substance is not free from difficulty. In the end only God can
be thought of as independent of any other being. Shall we say then, as does a certain
innovator who is only too well known, that God is the only substance and that created
beings are only his modifications? 2 But if you restrict your definition by adding that
substance is that which can be conceived independently of every other creature, we
may perhaps find things which have as much independence as extension and yet are
not substances. For example, active force, life, and antitypy are something essential
and at the same time primitive, and one can conceive of them independently of other
concepts, even of their subjects, by means of abstractions. Subjects, on the contrary,
are conceived by means of such attributes. Yet these attributes are different from the
substances of which they are attributes. So there is something which is not at all
substance, yet which cannot be conceived as any more dependent than substance itself.
Hence this independence on the part of its concept is not at all the mark of substance,
since it must apply also to what is essential to substance.
A. I believe that abstractions ought not to be thought of as independent of some-
thing, at least in their subject which should be concrete even though it is incomplete,
and which, when joined to a sufficient essential primitive attribute, would make up
the complete subject. But to get ourselves out of these thorns, let us say that the defi-
nition ought to apply only to concretes; thus substance would be a concrete being
independent of every other created concrete being.
Ph. Then you place another restriction on your definition; but it still contains great
difficulties. For (1) perhaps the explanation of what 'only concrete' means presupposes
substance itself, so that you will be reasoning in a circle in your definition. (2) I deny
that extension is a concrete term, since it is an abstraction from what is extended.
(3) It follows that the exact and incomplete subject, or the simple, primitive concrete
term which, joined to an essential attribute, constitutes a complete substance, would
itself alone deserve the name of substance, since neither the abstractions nor the com-
plete concretes could be conceived or could exist without it. (4) I shall not insist, for
the present, on the doctrine of those theologians who maintain that accidents can
exist without their subject in the sacrament of the Eucharist, for they are essentially
independent of it, and your definition therefore covers them.
A. We are being plunged into plenty of subtleties, and it is a good thing that I was
once in the College and have retained some of the Scholastic terms. But I admit that
these subtleties are unavoidable here and that you put them in a very intelligible way
so that I find it possible to reply to you. I answer, then, to the first point, that the defini-
tion of the concrete does not require that of substance, since accidents too can be
concrete. 3 For example, heat can be great or have magnitude, but great is a concrete
entity. A number can be called great, or proportional, or commensurable, etc. As for
the second point, I should say that since extension, space, and body are one and the
same thing for Theodore, he will say that extension is a concrete being. I reply to the
third point that the extended being, or the body, is exactly this primary subject con-
ceived as the matter which is formed by shapes and motions into a complete subject.
Finally, I say to the fourth point that Theodore may not agree with the possibility of
the existence of accidents without a subject. Others who may wish to maintain the
definition will say that substance is a concrete being which is naturally independent of
every other created concrete being.
Ph. I find your reply to the first point good. Yet you must explain the concept of
concrete and abstract more distinctly. But on the second point, I cannot agree with
you that the extended and extension are the same thing. There is no example in created
beings of the identity of the abstract and the concrete. Your reply to the third point
can pass, and also that which you gave to the fourth, according to those who deny that
accidents subsist outside of a subject. But those who would correct the definition of
substance by limiting it to what occurs naturally will make it resemble the definition
of man which is ascribed to Plato. It is said that he had defined man as a two-legged
animal without feathers; whereupon Diogenes plucked a cock and threw it into Plato's
lecture hall, saying, 'Here is a Platonic man.' A Platonist could have replied that the
definition meant an animal as it is naturally. But we require that definitions be drawn
from the essence of things. It is true that definitions may also be useful which are
drawn from that which occurs naturally, and that one can distinguish three levels of
predicates: the essential, the natural, and what is simply accidental. 4 In metaphysics,
however, one seeks essential attributes or those drawn from what we call a formal
reason.
A. So far as I see, the only question at issue between us is whether extension is an
abstract or a concrete being.
Ph. I could also object to your definition that bodies are not at all independent of
each other and that they need, for instance, to be acted upon or stimulated by their
surroundings. But you could make use of my own answer in replying to me, namely,
that the essence is all that is needed for a definition, since God can cause bodies to be
independent and conserve them in their state when every other body has been destroyed.
So I merely insist on my earlier remark - that extension is nothing but an abstraction
and demands something which is extended. It needs a subject; it is something relative
to this subject, like duration. In this subject it even presupposes something prior to it.
It implies some quality, some attribute, some nature in the subject which is extended,
which is expanded with the subject, which is continued. Extension is the diffusion of
that quality or nature. For example, there is in milk an extension or diffusion of
whiteness, in the diamond an extension or diffusion of hardness, in body in general an
extension or diffusion of antitypy or of materiality. You will thus see at once that there
is something in body prior to extension. One may say that in some way extension is to
space as duration is to time. Duration and extension are attributes of things, but time

and space are taken by us to be something outside of things and serve to measure
them. 5
A. Those who admit a space distinct from body think of it as a substance which
constitutes position. But the Cartesians and Theodore think of matter itself as you
think of space, except that they give it a mobility along with extension.
Ph. Then they tacitly admit that extension is not sufficient to constitute matter or
body, since they have to add mobility, which is a result of antitypy or of resistance;
otherwise one body could not be pushed or moved by another.
A. They will say that mobility is a result of extension, since all extension is divisible
in such a way that its parts are therefore separable from each other.
Ph. Those who assume that there is vacuum, or at least a real space distinct from
the matter which fills it, will not grant you this conclusion. They will say that one can
note the different parts in space but that one cannot separate them. As for my own
view, though I distinguish the notion of extension from that of body, I still believe
that there is no vacuum and even that there is no substance which can be called space,
i.e., that there is no subject having only the attribute of extension. Even if I were to
admit such a substance 6, I should always distinguish between the extended or extension,
and the attribute to which being extended, or diffusion, a relative concept, is referred.
This would be situation or locality. Thus the diffusion of place forms space, which
would be the first ground [npcmov 08KT1KovF or the primary subject of extension, and
by which it would also apply to other things in space. Thus extension, when it is an
attribute of space, is the diffusion or continuation of situation or locality, just as the
extension of a body is the diffusion of antitypy or materiality. For there is position in
a point as well as in space, and as a result there can be position without extension or
diffusion, but diffusion in simple length constitutes a localized line endowed with
extension. The same thing is true of matter; it is in a point as well as in a body, and
its diffusion in simple length makes a material line. Other continuations or diffusions
in breadth and depth form the surface and the solid of geometry - in a word, space in
relations of position, and body in material relations.
A. These relations of proportion between position and matter, space and body,
please me. They help one speak with exactness. It is good to make these distinctions,
and similarly that between duration and time, extension and space, as well. I shall have
to ask Theodore about this.
Ph. Finally, to go further still, I hold the opinion that not only extension but body
as well cannot be thought of independently of other things. Thus we should have to
say either that bodies are not substances at all· or that it is not a property of all sub-
stances to be thought of as independent, even though it may be of some single sub-
stances. For being a whole, the body depends essentially 8 upon other bodies of which
it is composed and which constitute its parts. Only the monad$, that is, simple or
indivisible substances, are truly independent of every concrete created thing.
A. Then I shall say that substance is a concrete being independent of every concrete
created thing outside of itself. Thus the dependence of a substance upon its own attri-
butes and parts will be no obstacle at all to our arguments.
Ph. But that makes the third restriction upon your definition. It is permissible for
you to do this, of course, but to tell the truth, some things which are permissible are
not expedient; non omne quod licet expedit. What does it matter if the worm which
gnaws at me is within me or outside of me? Am I any the less dependent upon him?
Only incorporeal substances are independent of every other created substance. So it

seems that in philosophical strictness the body does not deserve the name of substance,
a view which seems to have been Plato's, who says that there are transient beings
which never subsist longer than a moment. But this point needs a fuller discussion, and
I have still other important reasons for refusing to bodies the title and name of sub-
stances in a metaphysical sense. For to say a word about this, a body is not a true
unity; it is only an aggregate, which the Scholastics call a being per accidens 9 , a
collection like a herd. Its unity comes from our perception. It is a being of reason or
rather, of imagination, a phenomenon. 1 0
A. I hope that Theodore will satisfy you on all these difficulties. Meanwhile let us
assume that body and extension are not so very different, since you do not recognize
a vacuum; or at least let us lay the point aside for a fuller discussion and go on to the
rest of Theodore's demonstration. It reduces to this. Everything which has modifi-
cations which we are unable to explain by extension is distinct from a body, assuming
that bodies and extension are the same thing or at least that they differ only as space
and that which has only to fill it - that which has some resistance and mobility in
addition to extension, as you seem to grant. Now the soul has modifications which
are not modifications of extension or if you please, of antitypy or of simple space-
filling. Theodore even proves this; for my pleasure, my desire, and all my thoughts
are not at all relations of distance, and one cannot measure them by feet or inches, like
space or that which fills it.
Ph. I share Theodore's opinion when he maintains that the modifications of the
soul are not at all modifications of matter and that as a result the soul is immaterial.
Yet his proof stilI contains some difficulty. He holds that no thoughts are relations of
distance, since we cannot measure them; but a follower of Epicurus would say that
this is due to our faulty knowledge of them and that if we knew the corpuscles which
form thought and the movements necessary for it, we would see that thoughts are
measurable and are the workings of certain subtle machines. Just so, the nature of
color does not seem to consist, internally, of some measurable thing. Yet if it is true
that the reason for such qualities in objects is to be found in certain configurations and
movements - as the whiteness of foam, for instance, comes from little bubbles which
are hollow and polished like many little mirrors - then these qualities may at last be
reducible to something measurable, material, and mechanical.
A. In this way you abandon to your opponents all the proofs which can be given
for the distinction of soul and body.
Ph. Not at all. I intend merely to perfect them. To give you a little sample now, I
consider that matter includes only what is passive. It seems to me that the Democri-
teans as well as other philosophers who think mechanistically must agree with this.
For not only extension but also the antitypy attributed to bodies are purely passive
things, and as a result the origin of action cannot be a modification of matter. Hence
movement as well as thought must come from another source.
A. Permit me to point out the fault I find in your argument, for you teach me to be
exact to the point of rigor. I shall say, then, that your argument is of no value except
ad hominem, that is, for those who philosophize like Democritus and Descartes. But
Platonists and Aristotelians, and some of the recent defenders of an archeus, as well
as the latest sympathists who maintain the attraction of bodies at a distance 11, put
qualities in the body which cannot be explained mechanically; they will therefore not

agree that bodies are purely passive. I recall that a certain author, one of your friends,
favors the purely mechanical explanation of bodily phenomena but has undertaken
in some essays published in the Acta eruditorum of Leipzig to show that bodies are
endowed with a certain active force and that bodies are thus composed of two natures -
a primitive active force (called first entelechy by Aristotle) and matter or primitive
passive force, which seems to be antitypy. He holds, for this reason, that everything
can be explained mechanically about material things except the principles of mecha-
nism themselves, which cannot be derived from the consideration of matter alone.
Ph. I am corresponding with this author and am fairly familiar with his opinions.
This primitive active force, which could be called life, is precisely what is contained,
he holds, in what we call a soul or in simple substance. It is an immaterial, indivisible, and
indestructible reality; he locates it everywhere in the body, believing that there is no
part of matter where there is not an organized body endowed with some perception
or with a kind of soul. Thus this thinking leads us straight to the distinction of soul
and matter. If one calls body what I should prefer, as does he, to call corporeal sub-
stance, which is composed of soul and matter, this is merely a question of terminology.
This active force is exactly that which best shows the difference between soul and
matter, and that in a sensible way, because the principles of mechanism, of which the
laws of motion are the result, cannot be derived from what is purely passive, geometri-
cal, or material, or proved by the axioms of mathematics alone. For this author has
pointed out in more than one article in the Paris Journal des savants, the Leipzig Acta
eruditorum, and elsewhere when speaking of his dynamics, and even recently in his
Theodicy, that to justify the laws of dynamics, one must have recourse to a real me-
taphysics and to the principles of harmony which pertain to souls and which are no
less exact than those of geometry. In the letters which he has exchanged with Mr.
Hartsoeker and which are published in the Memoires de Trevoux, you will also find
how he abolished the void and atoms through higher considerations, even making use
in this of a part of dynamics. 12 Those who instead merely restrict their considerations
to matter cannot reach a decision on this question. This is why the new philosophers,
being usually too materialistic and not inclined to ally metaphysics with mathematics,
have been in no position to decide whether there are atoms and a void or not. Many
have even been led to believe that there are, that is to say that there exist, either a void
and atoms or at least atoms swimming about in a perfect fluid, thus excluding the
void. 13 But he shows that the void, the atoms, or perfect hardness, and a perfect fluid
are all alike opposed to harmony and order.
A. There is something in what you say, and with your assistance I want to think
more about it, especially about dynamics, since it is so important for the knowledge
of immaterial substances, and about the inconsistency of the void and atoms as well.
But I have. still another objection. This is that God could himself have done imme-
diately everything that you attribute to souls. Thus the modifications and the opera-
tions which go beyond matter would not lead you to souls distinct from matter, since
they would be the acts of God himself. It is true that this objection applies also against
Theodore himself, and perhaps more than against the others, for as you know he
considers secondary causes as only occasional.
Ph. Even if the operations in question were acts of God, the modifications which
are attributed to souls and which we feel in our own soul could not be modifications
of God. And as concerns operations too, it cannot be denied that we ourselves have
internal actions, and this would be all that is necessary here, since matter, being
passive, is incapable of such activity. But the viewpoint which ascribes all external
actions to God alone has recourse to miracles, and even to unreasonable miracles,
hardly worthy of the divine wisdom. By the same right by which we set up such fictions
which only a miraculous omnipotence of God could make possible, it would be per-
missible to maintain that I am alone in the world and that God produces all the phe-
nomena in my soul as if there were other things outside of me, without there actually
being any. Yet even if our present argument, which proves the distinction between
soul and matter insofar as this is supported by external operations or in dynamics,
were valid only on the assumption that things take place in the ordinary course of
nature by natural forces, without God acting upon them except to conserve them -
even this would be a great gain. For it would prove either the distinction between the
soul and the body or the existence of God. We can go even further and show more
distincly how dynamics verifies both of these two great doctrines, but that would
demand a more extended discussion in which we need not now get involved.
A. We must talk of this again some other time at your convenience. However, I
find that we have already achieved much, since the opponents of religion cannot
refute what you have just said in favor of the immortality of souls without recourse to
God, that is, to the doctrine which they most abhor. But once convince them of the
existence of God, or of a spirit infinitely powerful and wise, and it will not be hard to
infer that he has also made finite spirits immaterial like himself and further, that God
would not be just if our souls perished with their bodies.
Ph. There is even good ground for doubting whether God has made any other
things than monads, or substances without extension, and whether bodies are any-
thing but the phenomena resulting from these substances. My friend, whose opinions
I have detailed to you, gives evidence enough of leaning to this view, since he reduces
everything to monads or to simple substances and their modifications, along with the
phenomena which result from them and whose reality is established by their relations,
which distinguish them from dreams. I have already touched somewhat on this; but
now I must hear the rest of your estimable Theodore's conclusions.
A. After having established the distinction between soul and body as the basis of
the chief doctrines of philosophy, and also of the immortality of the soul, he drew my
attention to the ideas perceived by the soul; he maintains that these ideas are realities.
He goes even further and holds that the ideas have an eternal and necessary existence
and that they are the archetype of the visible world, whereas the things which we
think we see outside of us are often imaginary and always transitory. He even advanced
the following argument. Suppose that God should annihilate every being he has created
except you and me; suppose further that God gives our spirit the same ideas which
now present themselves through the presence of objects; we should then see the same
beauties which we see now. Hence the beauties which we see are not material but
intelligible beauties.
Ph. I fully agree that material things are not the immediate objects of our perception,
yet I find some difficulty in the proof and in the way in which he explains the matter,
and I wish it might be developed a little better. The hypothetical major premise of
the argument: does it contain inevitable consequence? If we should see everything in
an intelligible world in case external things were destroyed, it follows that we see every-
thing in an intelligible world at present too. Is this conclusion, I say, certain? Is it not

at all possible that our present ordinary perception is of a different kind from this
extraordinary perception? The minor premise is that in the case of this destruction,
we should see everything in an intelligible world. But to many people this minor
premise would also seem doubtful. Would not the opponent who believes that bodies
have an influence on souls say that in case our bodies were destroyed, God would
supply their lack and would produce in our souls the qualities which the bodies would
have produced, without any need of eternal ideas or an intelligible world? But even
granting that everything takes place in us ordinarily just as it would in the case of
bodily annihilation, that is, admitting that we ourselves always produce within us (as
I in fact believe) or that God produces in us (as Theodore believes) internal phenomena
without the body having any influence over us, must this necessarily involve external
ideas? Is it not sufficient to hold that phenomena are simply new transitory modifica-
tions of our souls? 14
A. I cannot recall that Theodore ever proved to me in general that the ideas which
we see are eternal realities. He undertook this only with regard to the idea of space and
by a particular line of reasoning. But this itself always predisposes me to conclude the
same thing about the ideas of other things, since space is very often a part of them.
He also gave excellent answers to the arguments with which I opposed his view. I
objected that the earth offers resistance to me and that there is something solid in this.
He replied that this resistance could be imaginary, as in a vivid dream, whereas the
ideas do not deceive. He also showed me, very fittingly, that ifresistance is a mark of
reality, there is also resistance in the ideas, when one tries to ascribe to them that
which they cannot endure. 1 5 But as I have already said, he proved to me that the idea
of space is necessary, eternal, immutable, and the same in all minds.
Ph. One may agree with you, Sir, that there are eternal truths, but not everyone
will agree that there are eternal realities which are presented to our soul when it sees
these truths. It will be said that it is enough that our thoughts have a relationship in
this with those of God, in whom alone the eternal truths are realized.
A. Yet this is the argument which Theodore offered to prove his thesis. When we
have the idea of space, we have the idea of infinity; but the idea of infinity is infinite,
and an infinite thing cannot be the modification of our soul, which is finite 16; hence
there are ideas which we see but which are not modifications of our souls.
Ph. This argument seems to me worth considering, and it ought to be developed
more thoroughly. I agree that we have the idea of an infinite in perfection; for that we
need only to think of the absolute, by setting aside all limitations. And we have a per-
ception of that absolute because we participate in it, inasmuch as we have some share
of perfection. But one can doubt with reason if we have an idea of an infinite whole
or of an infinity composed of parts, for a compound being cannot be an absolute.
It may be said, for example, that every straight line can be thought of as prolonged,
or better, that there is always a straight line greater than the given one, yet we do
not have the idea of an infinite straight line or of one greater than all others which
can be given.
A. It is Theodore's opinion that the idea we have of extension is infinite but that
the thought which we have of it, which is a modification of our soul, is not.
Ph. But how prove that we must have anything more than our thoughts and their
objects within us and that an infinite idea existing in God is needed for our purpose,
in order to have only a finite thought? Would it not be enough, if we must have ideas
distinct from thoughts, for the ideas to be proportional to the thoughts? We must
say, then, that there is no way of understanding such ideas.
A. This is the way which Theodore provided for me. The mind does not see the
infinite in the sense that it measures it by its thought. But neither is it enough for the
mind not to see the end to its thought, for it could still hope to find such an end; but
it understands that there is no such end. Thus the geometricians see that subdivision,
though continued as far as you please, will never reveal any part of the side of a square,
however small, which can also be some part of the diagonal or commensurate with it.
Similarly, these geometricians see asymptotic lines which they know can never intersect
the hyperbola, though they approach it without end.
Ph. This method of knowing the infinite is certain and incontestable. It proves, too,
that objects have no limits. But though we can conclude from it that there is no ultimate
finite whole, it does not follow that we see an infinite whole. There is no infinite
straight line, but every straight line can always be prolonged or surpassed by another
longer one. Thus the example of space does not at all prove in particular that we need
the presence of certain subsisting ideas different from the passing modes of our thought.
It seems at once that our thoughts are themselves sufficient for this.
A. It is not myself that I see when I see space and figures; therefore, it is something
outside of myself.
Ph. Why should I not see these things in myself? It is true that I see their possibility
even when I am in no way aware of their existence and that even when I do not see
them, these possibilities always subsist as eternal truths whose whole reality must,
however, be founded in something actual, that is to say, in God. But the question is
whether we have ground to say that we see them in God. Yet since I myself must
applaud Theodore's beautiful thoughts, I think one can justify his opinion on this
problem in the following way, though it appears highly paradoxical to those who
have not lifted their minds above sense perception. I am convinced that God is the
only immediate external object of souls, since there is nothing except him outside of
the soul which acts immediately upon it. Our thoughts with all that is in us, insofar as
it includes some perfection, are produced without interruption by his continuous
operation. So, inasmuch as we receive our finite perfections from his which are infinite,
we are immediately affected by them. And it is thus that our mind is affected imme-
diately by the eternal ideas which are in God, since our mind has thoughts which are
in correspondence with them and participate in them. It is in this sense that we can say
that our mind sees all things in God.
A. Far from displeasing Theodore, I hope that your criticisms and interpretations
will please him. He delights to communicate with others, and the account which I shall
bring him will give him an opportunity to share more and more of his insights with us.
I even flatter myself that I can oblige both of you by bringing you together and that I
myself would derive the most profit from this.
REFERENCES
1 An English translation of Malebranche's work, with the title Dialogues on Metaphysics and
Religion, was edited by Morris Ginsberg in 1923.
2As the correspondence with De Voider had shown, Leibniz differed from Descartes and
Spinoza (who is here alluded to) in conceiving substance, not as static and incapable of change,
definable by internal attributes, and unaffected by its modifications, but as functional in both
mathematical and dynamic senses of that term and therefore logically compound and analyz-
able.
3 This parallels the discussion with Des Bosses, at the time when Des Bosses sought to defend
nonmodal and real accidents (see particularly p. 616, note 19).
4 Compare Leibniz's distinction between formal and exigent necessity in the correspondence
with Des Bosses. The relation of the distinction to that between truths of reason and of fact is
obvious.
5 See p. 540, note 7. This distinction corresponds to that between internal properties or
accidents and the external relations (sometimes determined by the perceiving mind and some-
times by the related monad), which Leibniz made in the correspondence with De VoIder,
Des Bosses, and elsewhere (cf. p. 540, note 15).
6 The passage beginning with "that there is no subject ... " is omitted in G.; this reading
follows the collated text in Schmalenbach (Sch.).
7 See p. 595, note 1.
S Following Dut. and Erd.; G. omits essentiellement.
9 With Dut. and Erd.; G.haspuraccident.
10 Thus Leibniz reaffirms his phenomenalism at the very time of his discussion of the vinculum
substantiale and the real nature of bodies with Des Bosses.
11 Sympathism refers to the Newtonians, who interpret gravity as action at a distance, follow-
ing the first edition of the Principia. Leibniz here includes them with the 'neovitalists', as his
term nouveaux archealistes might be rendered (see p. 508, note 2).
12 Nicolas Hartsoeker, in the service of the Elector Palatine at Diisseldorf, had corresponded
with Leibniz since 1706. His Eclaircissemens sur les conjectures physiques appeared in 1710,
reviving the old controversy about atoms. Leibniz had recently written him (October 30, 1710),
arguing that atoms are fictions (G., III, 504-10).
13 The latter view was that of Huygens in the correspondence of 1692-94 (cf. No. 43).
14 Like Malebranche, Leibniz believed that our perceptions are based in eternal ideas; but, far
from conceiving these ideas as objects (save in reflection), he viewed them as the possibilities or
forms of perception.
15 This sentence did not appear in the published version, and therefore not in Dut. and Erd.;
G. gives itfrom the manuscript.
16 G. has infinie.
65
REMARKS ON THE THREE VOLUMES ENTITLED

CHARACTERISTICS OF MEN, MANNERS,
OPINIONS, TIMES, ... 1711
1712
Upon its appearance in 1711, Shaftesbury's Characteristics was sent to Leibniz by

Pierre Coste, who had been given a number of copies to distribute to scholars for criticism
(Coste to Leibniz, April 14, 1712 [G., III, 420]). Leibniz's favorable reaction to the
witty and penetrating observations of this English intuitionalist throws interesting light
upon the relation of his own thought to the gospel offeeling of succeeding decades. Leib-
niz himsel/wrote to Thomas Burnet on August 23,1713:
The Count ofShaftesbury, who died recently in Naples, presented me with his three octavo volumes,
which were full of beautiful things, and asked for my criticism. I was surprised to find a great
number of thoughts which agree with my own principles. Yet I did add some slight criticisms, and
he had the sincerity and moderation to tell me that my small corrections did not displease him.
The loss ofso excellent and sublime a mind is no small one [G., III, 327J.
Leibniz sent his comments to Coste, who passed them on to Masson. They were
published in the latter's Histoire critique de la republique des lettres in 1715.
[G., III, 423-31]
The Letter on Enthusiasm contains a thousand beautiful thoughts. I believe that raillery
is a good protection against this vice, but I do not find it suitable for curing people of
it. On the contrary, the contempt which is clothed in raillery will be taken by them as
affliction and persecution. I have observed, that when one rails at errors and absurdi-
ties in religious matters, one infinitely irritates the people at whom the raillery is
directed and that this is the true way to pass for an atheist in their minds. Also, I am
not sure that the use of ridicule is a good touchstone of error, since the best and most
important matters can be turned to ridicule, and it is not always certain that truth
will have those who laugh on its side, since it is most often hidden from vulgar eyes.
I have already said that all raillery includes a little contempt, and it is not just to try to
make contemptible what does not deserve it. But it is good always to be in good
humor, so that joy will be apparent rather than irritation in our conversation and writ-
ing. The Essay on Free Manners, on Spirit, and on Good Humor seems to have the same
purpose of bringing our contemporaries to humanize themselves and to brighten
things; by its arguments and its example this work is wonderfully suited to the purpose.
Though ironical, the remarks at the beginning in support of those who hold men to be
wolves to each other, and against those who believe in their natural goodness, are
pleasantly turned. But it can be said that ordinarily men are neither very malicious nor

very good, and Machiavelli has well remarked that the two extremes are equally rare,
with the result that great actions are rare also.
The Iroquois and Hurons, uncivilized neighbors of New France and New England,
have upset the too universal political maxims of Aristotle and Hobbes. By their
surprising conduct they have shown that entire peoples can live without magistrates
and without quarrels and as a result that men are neither carried far enough by their
natural goodness nor forced by their malice to provide themselves with a government
and so to renounce their freedom. Yet the roughness of these savages shows that it is
not so much necessity as the inclination to advance to a better state and to arrive at
happiness through mutual assistance which is the foundation of societies and states.
But is must be admitted that security is the most essential point in this.1
I find good the remark on page 98 that true virtue should be disinterested, that is, as
I interpret it, that one should come to find pleasure in the practice of virtue, and
disgust and repugnance in the exercise of vice, and that this should be the goal of educa-
tion. 2
The remark on page 99 is also good - that individual friendships are little recom-
mended in our religion, which points us to charity or to general benevolence. It can
also be said that a tested friendship is very rare and that it must be the effect of a great
and beautiful passion or of a great virtue found in two persons at the same time. It is
true that true friends who are very virtuous would be capable of going far.
Our illustrious author is right in refuting those (on p. 109) who believe that there
is no obligation in a state of nature or outside of government. For according to the
authors of these principles, obligations by compact should form the right of government
itself; so it is obvious that the obligation is prior to the government which it must form.
It is a common saying that interest governs the world, but there is truth in the remark
on page 115 that it is rather the passions that do so. The Duke de Rohan begins his
book on politics with this sentence: The princes command peoples, and interest
commands the princes. 3 It would be desirable for this to be true, for then we should
listen the better to reason. But reason demands also that we be concerned with our
satisfaction beyond merely mercenary interest; it orders us to strive for happiness,
which is nothing but a state of enduring joy. And whatever achieves this is our true
interest.
As for those of whom he speaks on page 118, who refer everything to themselves
and who seem to be in opposition to men who love their friends, parents, country,
state, and even mankind in general, I believe that, rightly understood, we can reconcile
the two positions provided that both sides listen to reason. Our own good is without
doubt the basis of our motives, but very often we find that not only our own advantage
but even our pleasure is in the good of someone else; in the latter case we should
properly call this disinterested love, as I have shown in explaining the principles of
justice in the Preface to my Diplomatic Codex on the Right of Nations. So the happiness
of someone else often becomes a part of our own. We shall find that virtue, or the habit
of acting reasonably, is that which achieves the most that one could promise himself
- a lasting pleasure.
I most heartily applaud what is said on pages 123ff., where it is shown that true
honor [honnetete] does not depend essentially upon the opinion of others. It is true
that this word has degenerated somewhat today, as have the sentiments as well; when
we call a man 'honorable', we mean that he has the ability to make himself esteemed,
that he makes a good appearance - a 'speciously proper outside' [spe~iosum pelle

decor4 4 •••
The remark is good, on pages 130--31, that the truly honorable man would not even
be capable of contemplating an evil act. Mr. Bayle has said something like this, which
I strongly approved in the Theodicy, Section 318, having pointed out (in Sec. 75) that
those who said of Cato that it was impossible for him to fail to do his duty meant
only to praise him the more. The less we can be tempted by vice, the more strengthened
we are in virtue. But there remains the important question of which of the two is better,
whether to be irresolute or to be confirmed in vice. Our illustrious author seems to
agree with this passage in Horace, Book ii, satire 7:
Quanto constantior idem
In vitiis, tanto levius miser, ac prior ilIo
Qui iam contento, jam laxo fune laborat. s
One suffers less, in fact, when a resolution has been taken than when one is in a state
of embarrassing irresolution. The authors of the philosophical sin have gone still
further, for according to them, those who sin with less remorse are more innocent.
But Aristotle is for the half-wicked, whom he calls incontinent, and it can be said that
their disease is more curable. The completely vicious are like people with gangrene
who do not feel their illness.
The unsatisfactory reasoning of certain modem philosophers leads him to say, on
page 132, that as things stand today, honor and good morals do not appear to gain
much from philosophy and profound speculation and that we should tum to common
sense. He adds that usually men's first judgments on these matters are worth more than
their reflections and afterthoughts. This may be true when one reasons according to the
principles of Mr. Hobbes and perhaps even of Mr. Locke. But I should be sorry if
it were true according to the true philosophy, which I flatter myself I have outlined
in my Theodicy.
I find myself surprised by the abundance of excellent things which I discover in the
Soliloquy and by the beautiful tum which is given them. What he says there about
destiny paralleling liberty and about the sciences of the Romans (pp. 219-20) seems
to me very important. It is to be hoped that Great Britain will maintain the glorious
title given her with so much justice on page 223. 6 But above all, literature is under
obligation to our illustrious author for the recommendation with which he honors it
in relation to great men (p. 224), and these will also benefit if they show a regard for
that recommendation.
I doubt that the sublime style is the easiest to achieve, as he seems to say on page
242. There are few who have attained it, even among the ancients, who are otherwise
so successful. I do not think that this characteristic is found with much uniformity
among the Latins outside of Virgil and Tacitus.
The advice is excellent which is given to authors (pp. 264, 271) not to be guided
solely by the prejudices of their country and their century and to labor to correct the
vulgar rather than to flatter them. But it is only authors who resemble this one him-
self, that is, those having a higher talent, who can profit from this advice; the general
run of authors are like the man who has written a play and is quite satisfied if he sees
the stalls well filled.
I believe that there is a reference on page 287 to the late Mr. van Helmont, the

younger, who was a prisoner of the Inquisition at Rome and who took it into his head,
in his solitude, to examine the function of the organs in pronouncing letters and thought
he had found how these characters are formed. I have known this same person unu-
sually well, and I must do him the justice of saying that he was not as ignorant in the
moral field as he seems here to be represented as being. It was he who had the Lycurgas
of Ottavio Pisani reprinted and who gave advice to the public on ways to abridge legal
procedure. His conduct was without reproach, his actions were full of charity and
disinterestedness. Except for certain chimeras which remained with him from the
impressions of his youth like a hereditary illness, he was an excellent man whose con-
versation was very instructive to all who could benefit from it. His works reveal only
that part of him which was least praiseworthy. 7
The remark on page 293 is good - that the physiological understanding of the
passions, to which Descartes was attached, is inadequate for morals, though it has its
usefulness in medicine. The Stoics were wrong, perhaps, in defining the passions by
general opinion as by their popular classification, but they were right in examining
the opinions which contributed toward forming and maintaining these.
It is right to scorn a sterile philosophy (p. 299), but I believe that if the author had
true ideas of space, of matter, and above all, of substance (ideas which he speaks of
as quite useless but which are not so common or so well known as may be thought), he
would find in them the self-knowledge which he here advises. One would also find there
what he seeks on page 300, namely, a means of being certain about one's ideas and of
bringing present opinions into accord with future ones. The question of whether or
not there is a vacuum (p. 301) is more remote from morals, but whoever would establish
the true principles even of ethics, and be demonstratively sure of them, will not
disdain this question. The agreement and disagreement of ideas are not known
through a simple comparison of our perceptions; we must come to an analysis. Able
man that he was, Mr. Locke did not adequately recognize this.
On the knowledge of substance, and therefore of the soul, depend the notions of
virtue and of justice, as well as the question asked on page 302 - whether it is reason-
able to risk one's life for the good of another. Our author excels here; his charms and
exhortations reveal the advantages of this Calliope, this Clio, and this Urania of
whom he speaks so well on pages 316 ff.
Would God that a way might be found to reconcile learning with the education of a
gentleman, as he recommends on page 335, and to direct both toward virtue. If our
illustrious author had many companions in quality and merit, this could soon be
achieved. He is also right in condemning the love of vain and extravagant tales which
prevails (p. 349) and even more, the opinions, so unworthy of the enlightenment of
our century, which represent virtue and vice as indifferent by nature (p. 352).
I come to the second volume, in which the treatise entitled An Inquiry concerning
Virtue and Merit is most systematic and contains sound opinions on the nature of
virtue and happiness, showing that the affections which nature has given us lead us
not merely to seek our own good but also to achieve that of those related to us, and
even of society in general, and that we are happy when we act according to our
natural affections. It seems to me that I could reconcile this very easily with my own
language and opinions. Our natural affections do indeed make up our contentment,
and the more natural we are, the more we are led to find our pleasure in the good of
another. This is the basis of universal benevolence, charity, and justice. As I have said
in the Preface to my Codex, cited above, justice is at bottom only charity which
conforms to wisdom. It is only reluctantly, and for a greater good, that justice some-
times obligates us to do evil. Wisdom orders that this benevolence should have degrees,
just as the air, though it extends all around our globe to a great height, has greater
weight and density near us than it has in the higher atmospheric regions. In the same
way, one can say that the charity which bears upon those who touch us most nearly
should have the greater intensity and force.
This work begins with the Divinity and distinguishes elegantly among true theism,
which conceives of only one perfectly good substance governing the world; polytheism,
which distributes this power; demonism, which ascribes government to some evil
power; and atheism, which makes everything depend on chance or on a concourse of
unintelligent causes. It seems to me that he does not make enough use, throughout the
work, of the Divinity which he affirms at the beginning. Yet I see that the author
wished to show that even atheists are obligated to follow virtue but that it is nevertheless
true that nature leads us to admit a beneficent deity, since our natural affections con-
form to what such a power would order. It can be said that a certain degree of moral
goodness exists independently of deity but that a consideration of the providence of
God and the immortality of the soul brings morality to its height, so that in the wise
man moral qualities are completely realized and honor and utility become entirely
identified, without any exception or evasion.
I thought I had penetrated deeply into the opinions of our illustrious author, until
I came to the treatise which is unjustly called a Rhapsody. Then I perceived that I had
been in the forechamber only and was now entirely surprised to find myself in the
chamber itself, or to use a more suitable figure, in the sanctuary of the most sublime
philosophy, where I was as enchanted as was his Philocles before Theocles and Pale-
mono The turn of the discourse, its style, the dialogue, the new Platonism, the method
of arguing through questions, but above all, the grandeur and beauty of the ideas,
their luminous enthusiasm, the apostrophe to deity, ravished me and brought me to a
state of ecstasy. At the end of the book I finally returned to myself and found leisure
to think about it. From the first I found in it almost all of my Theodicy before it saw
the light of day. The universe all of one piece, its beauty, its universal harmony, the
disappearance of real evil, especially in relation to the whole, the unity of true sub-
stances, and the great unity of the supreme substance of which all other things are
merely emanations and imitations are here put in the most beautiful daylight. It lacks
almost nothing but my pre-established harmony, my elimination of death, and my
reduction of matter or of plurality to unities or simple substances. I had expected
merely to find a philosophy like Mr. Locke's but was led beyond Plato and Descartes.
If I had seen this work before my Theodicy was published, I should have profited as I
ought and should have borrowed its great passages. I find nothing to change but the
title, which promises so little, and I am only sorry that the book does not fill an entire
volume.
I wish also that these great and beautiful meditations had been postponed until the
third volume, at the end of the whole collection. For I find it hard to descend from this
ublime part and to enjoy at once the more commonplace reading offered in the
V1iscellanies which follow it and comprise the third volume. I should have received
greater pleasure from this ifI had known that it ought to be read earlier. But I adjusted
myself gradually and by degrees put myself in a state to judge it as it deserves. I even

came to see that I should have been wrong in trying to change the order of the volumes,
since this last contains the supplement to the other two and gives us comments on the
five treatises which preceded, thus leaving a good taste in our mouths.
I strongly approve the praise bestowed upon the Emperor Julian (p. 81), who has
always seemed to me more unfortunate than evil. As for the story of the meeting
between the great Attila and Pope Leo I (p. 91), there are historians worthy of faith
(like Priscus and, later, Jomandes in De rebus geticis, chap. 42) who note that his
fear of dying after such a visit helped greatly to tum Attila away from his purpose
to go to Rome; this opinion had been spread abroad because Alaric, king of the
Visigoths, had died shortly after the capture of Rome, and it was believed that the
gods had punished his boldness, so great was the respect in which tqis capital of our
world was held at that time. 8
The discourse on taste (MisCellany 3, chap. 2) seems to me to be important. Taste as
distinguished from understanding consists of confused perceptions for which one
cannot give an adequate reason. It is something like an instinct. Tastes are formed by
nature and by habits. To have good taste, one must practice enjoying the good things
which reason and experience have already authorized. Young people need guidance
in this.
He is right (p. 211) in comparing those who seek demonstrations everywhere, and
are incapable of seeing anything in everyday light, to people who are called moon-blind
because they can see only by moonlight. For there are many probabilities which one
is obliged to follow in life. However, it is safest to satisfy such people too if possible.
Excellent things are said about the natural inclinations (pp. 214ff.), and nothing is
as plausible as the examples which are given of animals. Because of their artificial way
of life, men have unfortunately largely lost their natural instinct for adjustment to
the physical. Perhaps the savages surpass us in this. But we have maintained superior-
ity in morals, and fortunately reason and feeling concur here.
Our author is a sane judge of things. Instead of being contemptuous of ancient
languages, the humanities, and criticism, as are persons of thought and those of good
taste [beaux esprits] as well - two nearly opposite talents which he combines - he
recognizes the importance of these fields, even in relation to religion (pp. 267-68).
I shan not comment on the passages which consider the state and the church in
England, of which I have not enough knowledge. But I am sure that the wise men of
that nation are thinking effectively about establishing its security, which is also that
of free Europe.
In conclusion, I should strongly hope that everything in these three volumes will be
translated into French as were the first pieces, so that foreigners may also profit by it.
There are few works in which soundness and elegance are so wen combined.
REFERENCES
1 Many of his notions about the North-American Indians, Leibniz had gleaned from the Baron
Louis Armand de la Hontan (1666-1715), author of the Dialogues curieux entre l'auteur et un
sauvage de bon sense qui a voyage, et memoires de l'Amerique septentrionale, a work which did
much to fix the Romantic notions of the next century. From Leibniz's letters to Bierling (G.,
VII, 491, 492) it is clear that the Baron, with whom he held conversations in 1710 and 1711,
was already becoming a legendary figure.
2 As becomes clearer in the more explicit references which follow, Leibniz still repudiates any
concept of disinterested virtue in which the role of individual pleasure is denied - such a view
as was defended by Fenelon in the famous debate with Bossuet, on which Leibniz had long
since taken a position (see No. 44, I and II, and p. 430, notes 3 and 9).
3 Henri, Duc de Rohan, De !'interet des princes et etats de la chretiente (163S).
4 The quotation is from Horace Epist. i.16.15.
5 "The more content he is in his vices, the less miserable;/Better than the man who struggles,
with his rope now taut, now loose" (from n. IS-20 of the indicated satire).
e G. gives 225, which is incorrect.
7 On Franciscus Mercurius van Helmont see p. 50S, note 11, and p. 591, note 5.
8 Gibbon examines the story in chapter xxxiv of The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.
66
THE PRINCIPLES OF NATURE AND OF GRACE,

BASED ON REASON
1714
The popular reception of Leibniz's Theodicy had the effect of establishing his reputation
in even wider circles than before, and much of his last philosophical writing was done for
this wider audience rather than for his scholarly correspondents and the readers of
scientific journals. The circumstances and motives in writing the two best known of these
works, Nos. 66 and 67 (the so-called 'Monadology'), are not clear. Both were written in
Vienna in 1714. The Principles of Nature and of Grace was a popular introduction to
his philosophy of nature and his metaphysics, written for Prince Eugene of Savoy, a copy
of which was also sent, however, to Nicolas Remond and his circle in Paris; both facts
are established in the correspondence with Remond in the same and the following year
(G., Ill, 624, 629, 631, 633-34). The purpose of the Monadology is less clear; accord-
ing to one careful study, it was begun for Remond somewhat earlier than the Principles,
but finished later, and aimed to be a more careful clarification of Leibniz's principles for
his followers. l In any case, though the Monadology is the more complete, the papers
have much in common, both in what they include and in what they omit.
[G., VI, 598-606]
1. Substance is a being capable of action. It is simple or compound. Simple substance

is that which has no parts. Compound substance is a collection of simple substances,
or monads. 2 Monas is a Greek word signifying unity or that which is one. Compounds,
or bodies, are pluralities, and simple substances - lives, souls, and spirits - are unities.
There must of necessity be simple substances everywhere, for without simple substances
there would be no compounds. As a result, the whole of nature is full of life.
2. Monads, having no parts, can neither be formed nor unmade. They can neither
begin nor end naturally, and therefore they last as long as the universe, which will change
but will not be destroyed. They cannot have shapes, for then they would have parts.
It follows that one monad by itself and at a single moment cannot be distinguished
from another except by its internal qualities and actions, and these can only be its
perceptions - that is to say, the representations of the compound, or of that which is
without, in the simple - and its appetitions - that is to say, its tendencies from one
perception to another - which are the principles of change. For the simplicity of a
substance does not prevent the plurality of modifications which must necessarily be
found together in the same simple substance; and these modifications must consist
of the variety of relations of correspondence which the substance has with things
outside. In the same way there may be found, in one center or point, though it is perfectly
simple, an infinity of angles formed by the lines which meet in it.
3. Everything is a plenum in nature. Everywhere there are simple substances actually
separate<t from each other by their own actions, which continually change their
relations. And each outstanding simple substance or monad which forms the center
of a compound substance (such as an animal, for example), and is the principle of its
uniqueness, is surrounded by a mass composed of an infinity of other monads which
constitute the body belonging to this central monad, corresponding to the affections
by which it represents, as in a kind of center, the things which are outside of it. This
body is organic when it forms a kind of automaton or natural machine, which is a
machine not only as a whole but also in its smallest observable parts. And since
everything is connected because of the plenitude of the world, and each body acts on
every other one more or less, depending on the distance, and is affected by its reaction;
it follows that each monad is a living mirror, or a mirror endowed with an internal ac-
tion, and that it represents the universe according to its point of view and is regulated
as completely as is the universe itself. The perceptions in the monad arise from each
other according to the laws of the appetites or of the final causes of good and of evil,
which consist in observable perceptions, whether regulated or unregulated, in the
same way that bodily changes and external phenomena arise from each other according
to the laws of efficient causality, that is, of motions. Thus there is a perfect harmony
between the perceptions of the monad and the motions of the body, pre-established
from the beginning between the system of efficient causes and that of final causes. It is
in this that the accord and the physical union of soul and body consist, without either
one being able to change the laws of the other.
4. Together with a particular body, each monad makes a living substance. 3 Thus
not only is there life everywhere, joined to members or organs, but there are also infinite
degrees of it in the monads, some of which dominate more or less over others. But
when the monad has organs so adjusted that by means of them the impressions which
are received, and consequently also the perceptions which represent these impressions,
are heightened and distinguished (as, for example, when rays of light are concen-
trated by means of the shape of the humors of the eye and act with greater force), then
this may amount to sentiment, that is to say, to a perception accompanied by memory
- a perception of which there remains a kind of echo for a long time, which makes itself
heard on occasion. Such a living being is called an animal, as its monad is called a soul.
When this soul is raised to the level of reason, it is something more sublime and is
counted among the spirits, as will be explained presently.
It is true that animals are sometimes in the condition of simple living beings, and
their souls in the condition of simple monads, namely, when their perceptions are
not distinct enough so that they can be remembered. This happens in a deep sleep
without dreams or in a swoon. But perceptions which have become completely confus-
ed must be developed again in animals, for reasons which I shall give below in Section
12. So it is well to make a distinction between perception, which is the inner state of
the monad representing external things, and apperception, which is consciousness or
the reflective knowledge of this inner state itself and which is not given to all souls
or to any soul all the time. 4 It is for lack of this distinction that the Cartesians have
made the mistake of disregarding perceptions which are not themselves perceived,
just as people commonly disregard imperceptible bodies. It it this too which has made
these same Cartesians think that only spirits are monads and that there is no soul in
beasts, still less other principles of life. And after having defied the everyday opinion
of men too much in denying that beasts have feeling, they adjusted their views too far

to popular prejudices, on the other hand, when they confused a long stupor coming
from a great confusion of perceptions with death in the rigorous sense, in which all
perception would cease. This has confirmed the poorly grounded opinion that certain
souls are destroyed and has supported the pernicious view of certain so-called free-
thinkers who have denied the immortality of our souls.
5. There is a connection between the perceptions of animals which has some
resemblance to reason, but it is grounded only on the memory of facts or effects and
not on the knowledge of causes. Thus a dog runs away from the stick with which he
has been beaten, because his memory represents to him the pain which the stick had
caused him. Men too, insofar as they are empiricists, that is to say, in three-fourths
of their actions, act only like beasts. For example, we expect day to dawn tomorrow
because we have always experienced this to be SO; only the astronomer predicts it with
reason, and even his prediction will ultimately fail when the cause of daylight, which
is by no means eternal, stops. But reasoning in the true sense depends on necessary or
eternal truths, as are those oflogic, number, and geometry, which make the connection
of ideas indubitable and their conclusions infallible. Animals in which such con-
sequences cannot be observed are called beasts, but those who know these necessary
truths are the ones properly called rational animals, and their souls are called spirits.
These souls are capable of performing acts of reflection and of considering what is
called 'I', 'substance', 'soul', 'spirit' - in a word, things and truths which are immaterial.
It is this which makes us capable of the sciences or of demonstrative knowledge.
6. The investigations of the moderns have taught us, and reason confirms them, that
the living beings whose organs are known to us, that is, plants and animals, do not
come from putrefaction or chaos, as the ancients believed, but from preformed seeds,
and therefore from the transformation of living beings existing prior to them. There
are little animals in the seeds of large animals, which assume a new vesture in con-
ception, which they appropriate and which provides them with a method of nourishment
and growth, so that they may emerge into a greater stage and propagate the large
animal. It is true that the souls of human spermatic animals are not rational and
become so only when conception determines them for human nature. Just as animals
in general are not completely born in conception or generation, moreover, neither do
they completely perish in what we call death, for it is reasonable that what has no
natural beginning also has no end within the order of nature. Thus, abandoning their
masks or their rags, they merely return, but to a finer stage, on which, however, they
can be as sensitive and as well ordered as on the larger one. And what has been said
about grosser animals takes place also in the generation and death of spermatic animals
themselves, that is, they are the enlargements of other smaller spermatic animals, in
proportion to which they may be considered large, for everything in nature proceeds
to infinity.
Not only souls, therefore, but animals as well, cannot be generated or perish; they
are only developed, enveloped, reclothed, stripped, transformed. Souls never leave
the whole of their bodies and do not pass from one body to another entirely new to
them. Thus there is no metempsychosis, though there is metamorphosis. Animals change,
take on, and put off, only parts; in nutrition this taks place little by little and through
minute, insensible particles, but continually, while in conception or in death, where
much is acquired or lost all at once, it occurs suddenly and noticeably but infrequently.
7. So far we have been speaking simply as natural scientists; now we must rise to
metaphysics and make use of the great, but not commonly used, principle that nothing
takes place without a sufficient reason; in other words, that nothing occurs for which it
would be impossible for someone who has enough knowledge of things to give a
reason adequate to determine why the thing is as it is and not otherwise. This principle
having been stated, the first question which we have a right to ask will be, 'Why is
there something rather than nothing?' For nothing is simpler and easier than some-
thing. 5 Further, assuming that things must exist, it must be possible to give a reason why
they should exist as they do and not otherwise.
8. Now this sufficient reason for the existence of the universe 'cannot be found in
the series of contingent things, that is to say, of bodies and their representations in
souls. For since matter is in itself indifferent to motion or rest, and to one motion
rather than to another, one cannot find in it a reason for motion and still less for some
particular motion. Although the present motion in matter arises from preceding
motion, and that in turn from motion which preceded it, we do not get further howe\er
far we may 'go, for the same question always remains. The sufficient reason, therefore,
which needs no further reason; must qe outside of this series qf contingent things and
a
is found in substance which is the cause of thIs series' or which is a necessary being
bearing the reason 'for its existence within itself; otherwise we should not yet have a
sufficient reason with which to stop. This final reason for things is called God.
9. This simple primary substance must include eminentIy 6 the perfections contained'
in the derivative substances which are its effects. Thus it will have perfect power,
knowledge, and will; that is to say, it will have omnipotence, omniscience, and sover-
eign goodness. And since justice, taken in its most general sense, is nothing but
goodness conforming with wisdom, there is also necessarily a sovereign justice in God.
The reason which has made things exist through him has also made them depend on
him for their existence and operation, and they are continually receiving from him
that which causes them to have some perfection. But whatever imperfection remains
with them comes from the essential and original limitation of the created beings.
10. It follows from the supreme perfection of God that he has chosen the best pos-
sible plan in producing the universe, a plan which combines the greatest variety
together with the greatest order; with situation, place, and time arranged in the best
way possible; with the greatest effect produced by the simplest means; with the most
power, the most knowledge, the greatest happiness and goodness in created things
which the universe could allow. For as all possible things have a claim to existence in
God's understanding in proportion to their perfections, the result of all these claims
must be the most perfect actual world which is possible. Without this it would be
impossible to give a reason why things have gone as they have rather than otherwise.
11. The supreme wisdom of God has made him choose especially those laws of
motion which are best adjusted and most fitted to abstract or metaphysical reasons.
There is conserved the same quantity of total and absolute force or of action, also the
same quantity of relative force or of reaction, and finally, the same quantity of
directive force. 7 Furthermore, action is always equal to reaction, and the entire effect
is always equal to its full cause. It is surprising that no reason can be given for the
laws of motion which have been discovered in our own time, and part of which I myself
have discovered, by a consideration of efficient causes or of matter alone. For I have
found that we must have recourse to final causes and that these laws do not depend
upon the principle of necessity, as do the truths of logic, arithmetic, and geometry, but

upon the principle offitness, that is to say, upon the choice of wisdom. This is one of
the most effective and obvious proofs of the existence of God for those who can probe
into these matters thoroughly.
12. It follows also from the perfection of the supreme Author, not only that the
order of the entire universe is the most perfect possible, but also that each living
mirror which represents the universe according to its own point of view, that is, each
monad or each substantial center, must have its perceptions and its appetites regulated
in the best way compatible with all the rest. From this it also follows that souls, that is
to say, the most dominant monads, or rather animals themselves, cannot fail to awake
from the state of stupor into which death or some other accident may place them.
13. For everything has been regulated in things, once for all, with as much order and
agreement as possible; the supreme wisdom and goodness cannot act except with
perfect harmony. The present is great with the future; the future could be read in the
past; the distant is expressed in the near. One could learn the beauty of the universe in
each soul if one could unravel all that is rolled up in it but that develops perceptibly
only with time. But since each distinct perception of the soul includes an infinity of
confused perceptions which envelop the entire universe, the soul itself does not know
the things which it perceives until it has perceptions which are distinct and heightened. 8
And it has perfection in proportion to the distinctness of its perceptions.
Each soul knows the infinite, knows everything, but confusedly. Thus when I walk
along the seashore and hear the great noise of the sea, I hear the separate sounds of
each wave but do not distinguish them; our confused perceptions are the result of the
impressions made on us by the whole universe. It is the same with each monad. Only
God has a distinct knowledge of everything, for he is the source of everything. It has
been very well said that he is everywhere as a center but that his circumference is
nowhere, since everything is immediately present to him without being withdrawn at
all from this center. 9
14. As for the reasonable soul or spirit, there is something more in it than in monads
or even in simple souls. It is not only a mirror of the universe of creatures but also an
image of divinity. The spirit not only has a perception of the works of God but is even
capable of producing something which resembles them, though in miniature. For not
to mention the wonders of dreams in which we invent, without effort but also without
will, things which we should have to think a long time to discover when awake, our
soul is architectonic also in its voluntary actions and in discovering the sciences
according to which God has regulated things (by weight, measure, number, etc.). In
its own realm and in the small world in which it is allowed to act, the soul imitates
what God performs in the great world.
15. For this reason all spirits, whether of men or of higher beings [genies], enter by
virtue of reason and the eternal truths into a kind of society with God and are members
of the City of God, that is to say, the most perfect state, formed and governed by the
greatest and best of monarchs. Here there is no crime without punishment, no good
action without a proportionate reward, and finally, as much virtue and happiness as
is possible. And this takes place, not by a dislocation of nature, as if what God has
planned for souls could disturb the laws of bodies, but by the very order of natural
things itself, by virtue of the harmony pre-established from all time between the realms
of nature and of grace, between God as architect and God as monarch, in such a way
that nature leads to grace, and grace perfects nature by using it.
16. Thus, though reason cannot teach us the details of the great future, these being
reserved for revelation, we can be assured by this same reason that things are arranged
in a way which surpasses our desires. God being also the most perfect, the happiest,
and therefore the most lovable of substances, and true pure love consisting in the state
which causes pleasure to be taken in the perfections and the felicity of the beloved, this
love must give us the greatest pleasure of which one is capable, since God is its object.
17. And it is easy to love him as we ought if we know him as I have said. For though
God is not visible to our external senses, he is nonetheless most love-worthy and gives
very great pleasure. We see how much pleasure honors give to men, although they do
not consist of qualities which appear to the external senses. Martyrs and fanatics, though
the affection of the latter is not well ordered, show what power the pleasure of the spirit
has. What is more, even the pleasures of sense are reducible to intellectual pleasures,
known confusedly. Music charms us, although its beauty consists only in the agreement
of numbers and in the counting, which we do not perceive but which the soul never-
theless continues to carry out, of the beats or vibrations of sounding bodies which
coincide at certain intervals. The pleasures which the eye finds in proportions are of the
same nature, and those caused by other senses amount to something similar, although
we may not be able to explain them so distinctly.
18. It may even be said that the love of God already gives us, here and now, a fore-
taste of future felicity. And although it is disinterested, by itself it constitutes our
greatest good and interest, even when we do not seek these in it and when we consider
only the pleasure it gives and disregard the utility it produces. For it gives us a perfect
confidence in the goodness of our Author and Master, and this produces a true
tranquillity of spirit, not such as the Stoics have who resolutely force themselves to be
patient, but by a present contentment which itself assures us of future happiness. And
apart from the present pleasure, nothing could be more useful for the future, for the
love of God also fulfils our hopes and leads us in the way of supreme happiness, since,
by virtue of the perfect order established in the universe, everything is done in the best
possible way, as much for the general good as for the greatest particular good of those
who are convinced of it and are satisfied by the divine government. This cannot fail
to be true of those who know how to love the source of all good. It is true that the
supreme happiness (with whatever beatific vision or knowledge of God it may be
accompanied) cannot ever be full, because God, being infinite, cannot ever be known
entirely. Thus our happiness will never consist, and ought never to consist, in complete
joy, which leaves nothing to be desired and which would stupefy our spirit, but in a
perpetual progress to new pleasures and new perfections.
REFERENCES
1 On the relation between the two works see C. Strack, Ursprung und sachliches Verhiiftnis von
Leibnizens sogenannter Monadologie und der Principes de fa nature et de fa grace, Berlin 1915.
See also Kabitz in Fischer, p. 772.
2 It is noteworthy that Leibniz here refers to compound substances. Prior to the correspondence
with Des Bosses he had generally affirmed the phenomenal nature of bodies, and even in it
he ascribed to them only a substantiated and semisubstantial nature. It will be noted that his
phenomenalism is not made explicit in Nos. 66 and 67.
3 Leibniz's frequent statement that all nature is alive and no monad without a body is not
without ambiguity, but his clearest statements, particularly to De Voider and Des Bosses,
apply only to the individual monads but not to all composite bodies. Thus every monad is a
vital center, but not all composite bodies have a dominant monad; only bodies endowed with
life have.
4 On the origin of the distinction between perception and apperception see also p. 353, note 4.
In the New Essays (II, 9,4, and 27, 23), where it first appears, the new term is synonymous
with consciousness itself, as it is in the Monadology, Sec. 14. Here it is also identified with
reflection, or consciousness of the perceptions themselves. This difference has perplexed many
interpreters and entered into W. Wundt's attempt to deny the unconscious in Leibniz.
5 That is, analyzable into fewer simple concepts. Something seems to combine being and one.
S 'Eminently' is opposed in Scholastic usage to 'formally'. Any quality or agency ascribed to
God applies to him in a more exalted sense than the analogous quality or agency as known in
man, since God's agency is on another level which our experience cannot reach and is therefore
not univocal with its human analogue.
7 See No. 46, the Specimen dynamicum, PartI, and p. 451, note 9.
8 Reading relevees with Erd.; this agrees with the Monadology, Sec. 25. G. has revelies.
9 For the long history of the figure of the infinite sphere, which Leibniz may have learned
from Pascal, or from the German Rosicrucians and theosophists, see D. Mahnke, Unendliche
Sphiire und Allmittelpunkt, Halle 1937.
67
"THE MONADOLOGY"·
1714
[G., VI, 607-23]
1. The monad which we are to discuss here is nothing but a simple substance which
enters into compounds. Simple means without parts. (Theodicy, Sec. to).
2. There must be simple substances, since there are compounds, for the compounded
is but a collection or. an aggregate of simples. .
3. But where there are no parts, it is impossible to have either extension, or figure,
or divisibility. The monads are the true atoms of nature ; in a word, they 'are the elements
of things.
4. We need fear no dissolution in them, and there is no conceivable way in which a
simple substance can be destroyed naturally. (Ibid., Sec. 89.)
5. For the same reason there is no way in which a simple substance can have a
natural beginning, since it cannot be formed by composition.
6. So one can say that monads can only begin or end all at once, that is, they cannot
begin except by creation or end except by annihilation. That which is compounded,
instead, begins and ends in parts.
7. There is likewise no way of explaining how a monad can be altered or changed
internally by any other creature, since nothing can be transposed in it, and we cannot
conceive in it, as we can in composite things among whose parts there may be changes,
that any internal motion can be excited, directed, increased, or diminished from
without. Monads have no windows through which anything could enter or depart.
Accidents cannot be detached from substances and march about outside of substances,
as the sensible species of the Scholastics once did. 1 So neither substance nor attribute
can enter a monad from without.
8. Yet it is necessary for monads to have some qualities; otherwise they would not
even be beings. And if simple substances did not differ by their qualities, there would
be no way of perceiving any change in things, since what is in the composite can come
only from its simple ingredients; and monads, if they were without qualities, could not
be distinguished from each other, especially since they do not differ in quantity. Con-
sequently, assuming a plenum, each place would always receive in any motion the
equivalent of what it had already had, and one state of things could not be distinguished
from another.
9. It is even necessary for each monad to be different from every other. For there
are never two things in nature which are perfectly alike and in which it is impossible to
find a difference that is internal or founded on an intrinsic denomination. 2
10. I also take it as agreed that every created being is subject to change, and
therefore the created monad also, and further that this change is continuous in each
one.
11. It follows from what I have said that the natural changes in monads come from

an internal principle, since an external cause could not influence [in/luer dans] their
interior. (Ibid., Secs. 396 and 400.)
12. But besides the principle of change there must be some distinguishing detail in
that which changes, which constitutes the specific nature and the variety, so to speak,
of simple substances. 3
13. This detail must enfold a multitude in the unity or the simple. For every natural
change takes place by degrees - something changes and something remains - and as a
result there must be a plurality of affections and of relations in the simple substance,
even though it has no parts.
14. The passing state which enfolds and represents a multitude in unity or in the
simple substance is merely what is called perception. This must be distinguished from
apperception or from consciousness, as what follows will make clear. It is in this that
the Cartesians made a great riristake, for they disregarded perceptions which are not
perceived. It is this, too, which led them to believe that only spirits are monads and that
there are no souls in beasts or other entelechies. It led them into the popular confusion
of a long stupor with death in a rigorous sense, which made them support the Scholastic
prejudice that souls are entirely separate, and even confirmed some ill-balanced minds
in a belief in the mortality of the soul.
15. The action of the internal principle which brings about change or the passage from
one perception to another can be called appetition. It is true that appetite need not
always fully attain the whole perception to which it tends, but it always attains some of
it and reaches new perceptions.
16. We ourselves experience a multitude in a simple substance when we find that the
slightest thought which we perceive enfolds a variety in its object. Hence everyone who
recognizes that the soul is a simple substance should also recognize this multitude in the
monad, and Mr. Bayle ought not to find the difficulty in it which he does in his
Dictionary, in the article on Rorarius. 4
17. It must be confessed, moreover, that perception and what depends on it are
inexplicable by mechanical reasons, that is, by figures and motions. If we pretend that
there is a machine whose structure enables it to think, feel, and have perception, one
could think of it as enlarged yet preserving its same proportions, so that one could enter
it as one does a mill. If we did this, we should find nothing within but parts which push
upon each other; we should never see anything which would explain a perception. So
it is in the simple substance, and not in the composite substance or machine, that
perception must be sought. Furthermore, this is the only thing - namely, perceptions
and their changes - that can be found in simple substance. It is in this alone that the
internal actions of simple substances can consist. (Ibid., Preface. 5)
18. All simple substances or created monads might be given the name of entelechies,
for they have in them a certain perfection (exovUl 7:0 8V7:B'U~). There is in them a certain
sufficiency (aimipKBla) which makes them the sources of their internal actions and
so to speak, incorporeal automata. (Ibid., Sec. 87.)
19. If we wish to designate by soul everything which has perceptions and appetites
in the general sense which I have just explained, all simple substances or created monads
could be called souls. But since sentiment is something more than a simple perception,
I agree that the general name of monads or entelechies is enough for simple substances
which have only perception and that only those should be called souls in which per-
ception is more distinct and accompanied by memory. 6
20. For we experience within ourselves a state in which we remember nothing and
have no distinguishable perception, as when we fall into a swoon or are overcome by
a deep and dreamless sleep. In this condition the soul does not differ sensibly from a
simple monad. But since this condition does not last, and the soul emerges from it,
the soul is something more. (Ibid., Sec. 64.)
21. It does not follow that during this state the simple substance is without any
perception. For the reasons already given, that is not even possible, for it cannot
perish and it cannot subsist without some affection, which is nothing but its per-
ception. But when there is a large multitude of small perceptions with nothing to
distinguish them, we are stupefied, as when we turn continuously in the same direction
several times, so that a dizziness overcomes us and we grow faint and can distinguish
nothing. Death can produce this state in animals for a time.
22. Since every present state of a simple substance is a natural consequence of its
preceding state, in such a way that the present is great with the future (ibid., Sec. 360),
23. and since we perceive our perceptions when awaking from a stupor, it follows
necessarily that we have had these perceptions immediately before, even though we
did not then perceive them, for a perception can come naturally only from another
perception, just as one motion can come naturally only from another motion (Ibid.,
Sees. 401-3).
24. From this we can see that if we had nothing distinctive in our perceptions, and
nothing lifted out, so to speak, and of a higher flavor, we should always be in a state of
stupor. This is the state of the naked monads.
25. We see too that nature has given heightened perceptions to animals by the care
she has taken to provide them with organs which gather numerous light rays, or
many air waves, so as to give them greater effectiveness through their union. There is
something approaching this in smell, taste, and touch and perhaps in many other
senses which we do not know. I will explain presently how what occurs in the soul
represents what happens in the organs.
26. Memory provides a kind of consecutiveness to souls which simulates reason but
which must be distinguished from it. Thus we see that when animals have a perception
of something which strikes them and of which they have had a similar perception previ-
ously, they are led by the representation of their memory to expect whatever was
connected with it in this earlier perception and so come to have feelings like those
which they had before. When one shows a stick to dogs, for example, they remember
the pain it has caused them and whine or run away. (Ibid., Prelim., Sec. 65.)
27. The strong imagination which strikes and moves them comes either from the
magnitude or from the number of the perceptions which preceded it. For often one
single strong impression produces at once the effect of a long-formed habit or of many
frequently repeated ordinary perceptions.
28. Men act like beasts insofar as the sequences of their perceptions are based only
on the principle of memory, like empirical physicians who have a simple practice
without theory. We are all mere empirics in three-fourths of our actions. For example,
when we expect daylight tomorrow, we act as empiricists, because this has always
happened up to the present. Only an astronomer concludes it by reason.
29. But it is the knowledge of necessary and eternal truths which distinguishes us
from simple animals and gives us reason and the sciences, lifting us to the knowledge
of ourselves and of God. It is this within us which we call the rational soul or spirit.

30. It is also by the knowledge of necessary truths and by their abstractions that we
rise to reflective acts, which enable us to think of what is called I and to consider this
or that to be in us; it is thus, as we think of ourselves, that we think of being, of
substance, of the simple and the compound, of the immaterial, and of God himself,
conceiving of that which is limited in us as being without limits in him. These reflective
acts provide us with the principal objects of our reasonings (Ibid., Preface, 4a).
31. Our reasonings are based upon two great principles: the first the principle of
contradiction, by virtue of which we judge that false which involves a contradiction,
and that true which is opposed or contradictory to the false (Ibid., Secs. 44 and
196);
32. and the second the principle of sufficient reason, by virtue of which we observe
that there can be found no fact that is true or existent, or any true proposition, without
there being a sufficient reason for its being so and not otherwise, although we cannot
know these reasons in most cases (Ibid., Secs. 44 and 196).
33. There are also two kinds of truths, truths of reasoning and truths of fact. Truths
of reasoning are necessary, and their opposite is impossible. Truths of fact are con-
tingent, and their opposite is possible. When a truth is necessary, the reason for it can
be found by analysis, resolving it into more simple ideas and truths until we reach
the primitive (Ibid., Secs. 170, 174, 189,280-82, and 367; Abr. obj. 3).
34. It is thus that speculative theorems and rules of practice in mathematics are
reduced by analysis to definitions, axioms, and postulates.
35. There are, finally, simple ideas which cannot be defined, and there are also axioms
and postulates, or in brief, primitive principles, which cannot be proved and need no
proof. And these are identical propositions whose opposites contain an explicit con-
tradiction.
36. But a sufficient reason must also be found in contingent truths or truths of fact,
that is to say, in the sequence of things distributed through the universe of creatures,
whose analysis into particular reasons could proceed into unlimited detail because of
the immense variety of things in nature and the division of bodies into the infinite.
There is an infinity of shapes and motions, present and past, which enter into the
efficient cause of my present writing, and there is an infinity of small inclinations and
dispositions of my soul, present and past, which enter into its final cause. (Ibid., Secs.
36,37,44,45,49,52,121,122,337,340, and 344.) \
37. As all this detail includes other earlier or more detailed contingent factors, each\
of which in tum needs a similar analysis to give its reason, one makes no progress, and
the sufficient or final reason will have to be outside the sequence or series of these
detailed contingent factors, however infinite they may be.
38. Thus the final reason of things must be in a necessary substance in which the
detail of the changes can be contained only eminently, as in their source. It is this
substance that we call God. (Ibid., Sec. 7.)
39. Now since this substance is a sufficient reason for all this detail, and the detail
is interconnected throughout, there is only one God, and this God is enough. .
40. We may conclude, too, that this supreme substance, being unique, universal,
and necessary, and having nothing outside of it which is independent of it, and being
a simple consequence of possible being, must be incapable of limits and must contain
as much reality as is possible.
41. It follows from this that God is absolutely perfect; perfection being nothing but
the quantity of positive reality taken strictly, when we put aside the limits or bounds
in the things which are limited. But where there are no bounds, that is, in God, per-
fection is absolutely infinite. (Ibid., Sec. 22; Preface, 4a.)
42. It also follows that creatures receive their perfections from the influence of God
but that their imperfections are due to their own nature, which is incapable of being
limitless. For it is in this that they differ from God. (Ibid., Secs. 20,27-31, 153, 167,
and 377ff.) This original imperfection of creatures is noticeable in the natural inertia
ofthe body. (Ibid., Secs. 30 and 380; Abr. obj. 5. 7 )
43. It is also true that the source not only of existences but also of essences is in
God, insofar as these e~sences are real or insofar as there is something real in possibility.
This is because the understanding of God is the region of eternal truths or of the
ideas upon which they depend and because without him there would be no reality in
possibilities - not only nothing existent but also nothing possible. (Ibid., Sec. 20.)
44. For if there is a reality in the essences or possibilities, or in the eternal truths as
well, this reality must be founded on something existent and actual, and therefore in
the existence of a necessary being, in whom essence includes existence or in whom it
is enough to be possible in order to be actual. (Ibid., Sees. 184, 189, and 335.)
45. Thus God alone, or the necessary being, has the privilege of necessarily existing
if he is possible. And since nothing can prevent the possibility of that which is without
any limits, without any negation, and consequently without any contradiction, this
fact alone suffices to know the existence of God a priori. So we have proved it through
the reality of eternal truths.8 But we have also proved it a posteriori, since contingent
beings exist, and their final or sufficient reason can be discovered only in a necessary
being which has its reason for its existence in itself.
46. We must not imagine as do some, however, that since the eternal truths are
dependent upon God, they are arbitrary and dependent on his will, as Descartes and
later Mr. Poiret seem to have held. 9 This is true only of contingent truths, whose prin-
ciple is fitness or the choice of the best; necessary truths, however, depend solely on
his understanding and are its internal object. (Ibid., Secs. 180, 184, 185, 335, 351,
and 380.)
47. So only God is the primary unity or the simple original substance of which all
the created or derivative monads are products, and from whom they are born, so to
speak, by continual fulgurations of the divinity from moment to moment, but limited by
the receptivity of the created being, for whom it is essential to have limits. (Ibid.,
Secs. 3~2-91, 398, and 395.)
48. There is in God the power which is the source of everything, there is also the
knowledge which contains the variety of the ideas, and finally, there is the will which
makes changes or products in accordance with the principle of the best. This cor-
responds to what is in created monads the subject or basis, the perceptive faculty, and
the appetitive faculty. But in God these attributes are absolutely infinite or perfect,
and in created monads or entelechies - or perfectihabies, as Hermolaus Barbarus
translated this word - they are nothing but imitations in the degree to which the
monad has perfection. (Ibid., Secs. 7, 149, 150, and 87.)
49. The created being is said to act outwardly insofar as it has perfection and to suffer
from another insofar as it is imperfect. Thus action is attributed to a monad insofar
as it has distinct perceptions, and passion insofar as it has confused ones. (Ibid., Secs.
32,66, and 386.)

50. One created being is more perfect than another if one finds in it that which will
supply a reason a priori for what happens in the other. And it is because of this that it
is said to act upon the other.
51. But in simple substances there is only an ideal influence of one monad upon
another. This can have its effect only by the intervention of God, insofar as one monad
may with reason demand, in the ideas of God, that God should have a concern for it
in regulating the rest from the beginning of things. For since a created monad can have
no physical influence on the interior of another, it is only in this way that one can be
dependent on the other. (Ibid., Sees. 9, 54, 65, 66, and 201; Abr. obj. 3.)
52. It is in this way that actions and passions are mutual among creatures. For God,
comparing two simple substances,finds the reasons in each which oblige him to adapt the
other to it, with the result that whatever is active in certain respects is passive con-
sidered from another point - active insofar as what we distinctly know in it serves as
a reason for what happens in another, but passive insofar as the reason for what
happens in it is found in what we know distinctly in another. (Ibid., Sec. 66.)
53. Now since there is an infinity of possible universes in the ideas of God, but only
one can exist, there must be a sufficient reason for God's choice which determines him
to one rather than another. (Ibid., Secs. 8, 10,44,173,196-97,225, and 414--16.)
54. This reason can be found only in the fitness or in the degrees of perfection which
these worlds contain, each possible one having a right to claim existence in the measure
of the perfection which it enfolds. (Ibid., Secs. 74, 167, 350, 201, 130, 352, 345-46,
and 354.)
55. And this is the cause for the existence of the best, which his wisdom causes God
to know, his goodness makes him choose, and his power makes him produce. (Ibid.,
Secs. 8, 78, 80, 84,119,204,206, and 208; Abr. obj. 1,8.)
56. Now this mutual connection or accommodation of all created things to each
other and of each to all the rest causes each simple substance to have relations which
express all the others and consequently to be a perpetual living mirror of the universe.
(Ibid., Secs. 130 and 360.)
57. Just as the same city viewed from different sides appears to be different and to
be, as it were, multiplied in perspectives, so the infinite multitude of simple substances,
which seem to be so many different universes, are nevertheless only the perspectives
of a single universe according to the different points of view of each monad. (Ibid.,
Sec. 147.)
58. This is the means of obtaining the greatest variety possible, but with tIte great~st
possible order; that is to say, this is the means of attaining as much perfectioll as po~si-
ble. (Ibid., Secs. 120,124,241-42,215,243, and 275.) 1
59. It is only this hypothesis, moreover, which I dare say is demonstrated, ~hat exalts
the greatness of God as one ought. Mr. Bayle recognized this when he raised objections
to it in his Dictionary (article Rorarius), where he was even inclined to believe that I
ascribed too much to God, more than is possible. Yet he was unable to set forth any
reason why this universal harmony, which results in every substance expressing
exactly all the others by means of the relations which it has with them, should be im-
possible.
60. From what I have been saying, furthermore, we may see the a priori reasons
why things could not be otherwise than they are. This is because God has had regard
for each part in regulating the whole and in particular for each monad. The nature of
the monad being to represent, nothing can keep it from representing only a part of
things, though it is true that its representation is merely confused as to the details of
the whole universe and can be distinct for a small part of things only, that is, for those
which are the nearest or the greatest in relation to each individual monad. 1 0 Otherwise
each monad would be a divinity. It is not in the object but in the modification of their
knowledge of the object that the monads are limited. They all move confusedly toward
the infinite, toward the whole, but they are limited and distinguished from each other
by the degrees of their distinct perceptions.
61. In this respect compound beings are in symbolic agreement with the simple. For
everything is a plenum, so that all matter is bound together, and every motion in this
plenum has some effect upon distant bodies in proportion to their distance, in such
a way that every body not only is affected by those which touch it and somehow feels
whatever happens to them but is also, by means of them, sensitive to others which
adjoin those by which it is immediately touched. It follows that this communication
extends to any distance whatever. As a result, every body responds to everything
which happens in the universe, so that he who sees all could read in each everything
that happens everywhere, and, indeed, even what has happened and will happen,
observing in the present all that is removed from it, whether in space or in time. "All
things are conspirant", as Hippocrates said. l l But a soul can read within itself only
what it represents distinctly; it cannot all at once develop all that is enfolded within it,
for this reaches to infinity.
62. Thus, although each created monad represents the whole universe, it represents
more distinctly the body which is particularly affected by it and of which it is the
entelechy. And as this body expresses the whole universe by the connection between all
matter in the plenum, the soul also represents the whole universe in representing the
body which belongs to it in a particular way. (Ibid., Sec. 400.)
63. The body belonging to a monad which is its entelechy or soul constitutes what
may be called a living being with that entelechy; with a soul it constitutes an animal.
Now the body of a living being or an animal is always organic for since every monad
is a mirror of the universe in its own way, and the universe is regulated in perfect order,
there must also be an order in the being which represents it, that is to say, in the per-
ceptions of the soul and therefore 'also in the body, according to which the universe
is represented in it. (Ibid., Sec. 403.)1
64. So each organic body belonging to a living being is a kind of divine machine or
natural automaton infinitely surpassing all artificial automata. For a machine made
by human art is not a machine in each of its parts; for example, the tooth of a brass
wheel has parts or fragments which are not artificial so far as we are concerned, and
which do not have the character of a machine, in that they fit the use for which the
wheel was intended. But the machines of nature, living bodies, are still machines in
their smallest parts, into infinity. It is this that makes the difference between nature
and art, that is, between the divine art and ours. (Ibid., Sees. 134, 146, 194, and
403. 12)
65. And the author of nature has been able to practice this divine and infinitely
wonderful artisanship because each part of matter not only is infinitely divisible, as the
ancients recognized, but also is actually subdivided without end, each part into parts,
each of which has its own distinct movement. Otherwise it would be impossible that
each part of matter could express the whole universe. (Ibid" Prelim., Sec. 70; Sec. 195.)
For references see p, 652

66. It is clear from this that there is a world of creatures, living beings, animals,
entelechies, souls, in the smallest particle of matter.
67. Each part of matter can be thought of as a garden full of plants or as a pond full
of fish. But each branch of the plant, each member of the animal, each drop of its
humors, is also such a garden or such a pond.
68. And although the earth and the air interspersed between the plants of the garden,
and the water interspersed between the fish in the pond, are not themselves plants or
fish, they also contain them, though most frequently of a fineness imperceptible to us.
69. Thus there is nothing fallow, sterile, or dead in the universe; no chaos, no con-
fusions, save in appearance. This would be comparable, perhaps, to a pond seen from
a distance, in which we should see the confused swarming movements of the fish, so to
speak, without seeing the fish themselves. (Ibid., Preface, 5b_6. 13 )
70. Hence we see that each living body has a dominant entelechy which is the soul
in the case of an animal; but the members of this living body are full of other living
beings, plants, and animals, each one of which also has its dominant entelechy or soul.
71. But we must not imagine, as some have done who have mi~understood my
thought, that each soul' has its own mass or quantity of matter belonging to it or
affected by it forever, and that it consequently possesses other inferior living beings
forever destined to serve it. For all bodies are in a perpetual flux, like rivers, and parts
are passing in and out from them continually.
72. Thus the soul only changes its body little by little and by degrees, so that it is
never deprived of all its organs at once; there is often metamorphosis in animals but
never metempsychosis or transmigration of souls. Neither are there entirely separated
souls or higher spirits [genies] without bodies. God alone is entirely detached from
body. (Ibid., Sees. 90 and 124.)
73. It is because of this, too, that there is never complete generation or, strictly
speaking, perfect death, consisting in the separation of the soul. What we call generation
is a development and an increase, just as what we call death is an envelopment and a
diminution.
74. Philosophers have been greatly embarrassed over the origin offorms, entelechies,
or souls. Today, however, when exact investigations made on plants, insects, and
animals have shown that the organic bodies of nature are never produced from chaos
or from putrefaction, but always through seeds in which there is undoubtedly some
preformation, it has been concluded not only that the organic body was already there
before conception but also that there was a soul in this body and, in a word, that the
animal itself was there, so that conception is merely the means by which the animal
is prepared for a great transformation by which it becomes an animal of another kind.
Something approaching this may even be seen apart from generation, as when worms
become flies and caterpillars become butterflies. (Ibid., Sees. 86, 89; Preface; Secs. 90,
187,188,403,86, and 397.)
75. The animals, some of which are raised by means of conception to the level of
greater animals, can be called spermatic. But those among them which remain in their
own kind - and this is most of them- are born, multiply, and perish like large animals;
there is only a small number of chosen ones which pass into a greater theater.
76. This is but half of the truth, however. So I have concluded that if an animal
never has a beginning naturally, neither does it end naturally, and that there will be
not only no generation but also, rigorously speaking, no total destruction or death.
And this a posteriori reasoning, drawn from experience, agrees perfectly with the
principles which I have deduced a priori above. (Ibid., Sec. 90.)
77. So it can be said that not only the soul, as mirror of an indestructible universe,
is itself indestructible but also the animal itself, although its machine may often perish
in part and cast off or take on particular organic coverings.
78. These principles have given me a method for explaining naturally the union or
better, the conformity of the soul and the organic body. The soul follows its own laws,
and the body its own likewise, and they agree with each other by virtue of the harmony
pre-established between all substances, since they are all representations of one and the
same universe. (Ibid., Preface; Secs. 340, 352, 353, and 358.)
79. Souls act according to the laws of final causes through their appetitions, ends,
and means. Bodies act according to the laws of efficient causes or the laws of motion.
And the two kingdoms, that of efficient and that of final causes, are in harmony with
each other.
80. Descartes recognized that souls cannot give force to bodies because the same
quantity of force is always conserved in matter. He believed, however, that the soul
could change the direction of the body. But this was because the law of nature was
still unknown in his day, according to which matter conserves also the same total
direction. If he had noticed this, he would have fallen upon my system of pre-establish-
ed harmony. (Ibid., Preface; Secs. 22, 59, 60, 61, 63, 66, 346-47, 354, and 355.)
81. In this system bodies act as if there were no souls (to assume an impossibility),
and souls act as if there were no bodies, and both act as if each influenced the other.
82. As for spirits or rational souls, although I find that what I have just been saying
is true at bottom of all living beings and animals (that is, that the soul and the animal
begin only with the world and come to an end only with the world), yet there is this
peculiar thing about rational animals, that their little spermatic animals, as long as
they are only this, have only ordinary or sensitive souls, but as soon as the elect among
these, so to speak, arrive at human nature through actual conception, their sensitive
souls are raised to the level of reason and to the prerogative of spirits. (Ibid., Secs.
91 and 397.)
83. Among other differences which exist between ordinary souls and spirits, some
of which I have already pointed out, there is still this: souls in general are living
mirrors or images of the universe of created beings, while spirits are also images of
divinity itself or of the author of nature, capable of knowing the system of the universe
and of imitating it to some extent by means of architectonic samples, each spirit
being like a little divinity within its own sphere. (Ibid., Sec. 147.)
84. It is this which renders spirits capable of entering into a kind of society with
God and makes his relation to them not merely that of an inventor to his machine (as
God is related to other creatures) but also that of a prince to his subjects and even a
father to his children.
85. It is easy to conclude from this that the assemblage of all spirits must make up
the city of God, that is to say, the most perfect state which is possible under the most
perfect of monarchs. (Ibid., Sec. 146; Abr. obj. 2.)
86. This city of God, this truly universal monarchy, is a moral world within the
natural world and is the most exalted and the most divine of all of God's works. In
it the true glory of God consists, for he would have no glory if his greatness and good-
ness were not known and admired by spirits. It is also in relation to this divine city

that his distinctive goodness is found, whereas his wisdom and power are shown
everywhere.
87. As we have established above a perfect harmony between two natural kingdoms,
that of efficient and that of final causes, we must also point out here another harmony
between the physical kingdom of nature and the moral kingdom of grace, that is to
say, between God considered as architect of the machine of the universe and God
considered as monarch of the divine city of spirits. (Ibid., Secs. 62, 74, 118, 248, 112,
130, and 247.)
88. The result of this harmony is that things lead to grace by means of the very
ways of nature and that this globe, for example, must be destroyed and repaired by
natural ways at those times which the government of spirits demands for the punish-
ment of some and the reward of others. (Ibid., Secs.18-19, 110,244,245, and 340.)
89. It can also be said that God as architect satisfies God as lawgiver in everything
and that sins must therefore carry their punishment with them by the order of nature,
and even by virtue of the mechanical structure of things; and that noble actions, sim-
ilarly, attain their rewards through ways that are mechanical in relation to bodies,
although this cannot and should not always happen at once.
90. Finally, under this most perfect government there will be no good action with-
out reward and no evil action without punishment, and everything must tum out for
the well-being of those who are good, that is to say, those who are not dissatisfied in
this great state, who trust in Providence after they have done their own duty, who love
and imitate the Author of all good as they ought, taking pleasure in the contemplation
of his perfections after the nature of the true pure love 14, which makes us find our
pleasure in the happiness of the beloved. This it is which makes the wise and virtuous
work for all that seems to conform to the divine will, presumptive or antecedent, and
yet content themselves with what God causes to happen to them by his will, secret,
consequent, and decisive 15; recognizing as they do that if we could sufficiently un-
derstand the order of the universe, we should find that it surpasses the desires of the
most wise and that it is impossible to make it better than it is, not only for the whole
in general, but also for ourselves in particular, if we are attached as we should be to
the Author of the whole, not only as to the architect and efficient cause of our being,
but also as to our master and final cause, who must be the whole end of our will and
can alone make our happiness. (Ibid., Sec. 134 end; Preface, 4; Sec. 278.)
REFERENCES
* Leibniz's own manuscripts of this work bear no title, but it has been known by this title since
Erdmann adopted it in his edition, following the designation of the first published version, a
German translation, in 1720. For further considerations see the introduction to No. 66. The
references to the Theodicy were added by Leibniz in the first revision.
1 See p. 329, note 30, and p. 461, note 9.
2 See p. 271, note 4, and the reference there to the Introduction. 'Denomination' implies
more than 'quality' (in Sec. 8, preceding), for it is a logical term and points to an essence or
sufficient reason for changing qualities.
3 The internal principle in Sec. 11 is clearly the law of the individual series, or the individual
concept; the detail in that which changes is the particular value of this law or concept which
contitutes the changing qualities of the monad. The dynamic parallels to the two concepts are
primary and secondary force. Leibniz now proceeds further to divide the details (or secondary
force) into aspects of activity and passivity and, from another point of view, into perceptions
and the appetites which impel them. Thus he offers a more popular derivation of the organic
structure of the monad than in the more critical Scholastic discussions with such men as De
Vol der and Des Bosses.
4 See Nos. 52 and 60 above.
5 G., VI, 41ff.
6 Memory is thus still considered by Leibniz as a condition necessary for conscious perceptions
(cf. p. 553, note 4). Leibniz has held to this point since 1670, when memory was used to
distinguish between matter and mind (No.8, I, Sec. 17).
7 The last sentence appears in the first revision; G. has it in a footnote.
S Since the ontological argument here depends upon the principle (in Sec. 44) that the reality
of essences or possibilities must be founded upon existence, this can hardly be regarded as the
ontological argument in its purity. Thus the emphasis in the argument has shifted since Leibniz's
early period (see Nos. 14 and 20) from a consideration of the possibility of the existence of a
perfect being to the existence of possibilities.
9 Pierre Poiret (1646-1719) moved from Cartesianism to a theosophic interpretation inspired
by Antoinette Bourignon.
10 The relations between monads are not spatial, of course, and therefore do not differ in
distance in the phenomenal sense. As Sec. 61 shows, spatial relations are merely symbolic
analogies to the ultimate relations of perception. Distance is here a matter of the number of
middle terms intervening in the analysis of perceptions.
11 Leibniz writes (Jvp7tvOIa mivm; he makes the same citation in the New Essays, Introduction
(G., V., 48).
12 G. omits the references to the Theodicy.
13 G., VI, 40, 44.
14 See p. 430, notes 3 and 9.
15 St. Thomas distinguished (De veritate, Q. XXIII, a, 3c; Summa theologica, I, Q. XIX, a, 6)
between the antecedent and consequent will of God. Leibniz's definitions, which modify
Thomas', are found in Theodicy, Part I, Sec. 23. God's antecedent will is for the good, absolu-
tely; his consequent will is for the best possible in existing conditions.
68
LETTERS TO NICOLAS REMOND

1714-15
Nicolas Remond, chief counselor ofthe Duke ofOrleans and brother ofthe mathematician
Remond de Monmort, was a courtier of wide interests and attainments, whose correspond-
ence with Leibniz, opened through the mediation of Pierre Coste in 1713, constitutes a
critical and philosophical miscellany of considerable interest for the closing years of
Leibniz's life. He seems to have looked to Remond in Paris, as to Eugene of Savoy in
Vienna, for the propagation of his ideas in the circles of the powerful and influential. The
correspondence begins with Remond's account ofhis interest in Plato.
[G., III, 605-7]

Vienna, January 10,1714
... I find it natural that you have enjoyed some of my thoughts after having penetrated
into Plato's, an author who has meant much to me and who deserves to be systematized.
I believe that I can carry out the demonstration of truths which he has merely advanced.
Having followed his steps and those of certain other great men, I flatter myself to have
profited by them and to have penetrated, at least to a point, the bright temples of
wisdom:
Edita doctrina, sapien tum templa serena. 1
This relates to general truths which do not depend upon facts but which are nonetheless,
in my opinion, the key to the knowledge which judges facts.
I should venture to add that if I had been less distracted, or if I were younger or
had talented young men to help me, I should still hope to create a kind of universal
symbolistic [specieuse generale] in which all truths of reason would be reduced to a
kind of calculus. At the same time this could be a kind of universal language or
writing, though infinitely different from all such languages which have thus far been
proposed, for the characters and the words themselves would give directions to reason,
and the errors - except those of fact - would be only mistakes in calculation. It would
be very difficult to form or invent this language or characteristic but very easy to learn
it without any dictionaries. When we lack sufficient data to ar,rive at certainty in our
truths, it would also serve to estimate degrees of probability and to see what is needed
to provide this certainty. Such an estimate would be most important for the problems
of life and for practical considerations, where our errors in estimating probabilities
often amount to more than a half....
... Besides always taking care to direct my study toward edification, I have tried to
uncover and unite the truth buried and scattered under the opinions of all the different
philosophical sects, and I believe I have added something of my own which takes a few
steps forward. The circumstances under which my studies proceeded from my earliest
youth have given me some facility in this. I discovered Aristotle as a lad, and even the
Scholastics did not repel me; even now I do not regret this. But then Plato too, and
Plotinus, gave me some satisfaction, not to mention other ancient thinkers whom I
consulted later. After having finished the trivial schools 2, I fell upon the modems, and
I recall walking in a grove on the outskirts of Leipzig called the Rosental, at the age
of fifteen, and deliberating whether to preserve substantial forms or not. Mechanism
finally prevailed and led me to apply myself to mathematics.
It is true that I did not penetrate into its depths until after some conversations with
Mr. Huygens in Paris. But when I looked for the ultimate reasons for mechanism, and
even for the laws of motion, I was greatly surprised to see that they could not be found
in mathematics but t~at I should have to return to metaphysics. This led me back to
entelechies, and from the material to the formal, and at last brought me to understand,
after many corrections and forward steps in my thinking, that monads or simple sub-
stances are the only true substances and that material things are only phenomena,
though well founded and well connected. Of this, Plato, and even the later Academics
and the skeptics too, had caught some glimpses, but these successors of Plato did not
make as good use of it as did he himself.
I have found that most of the sects are right in a good part of what they propose,
but not so much in what they deny. The formalists, Platonists and Aristotelians, for
example, are right in seeking the source of things in final and formal causes. But they
are wrong in neglecting efficient and material causes and in inferring from this, as did
Henry More in England and certain other Platonists, that there are phenomena which
cannot be explained mechanically. The materialists, on the other hand, or those who
accept only a mechanical philosophy, are wrong in rejecting metaphysical considera-
tions and trying to explain everything in terms of sense experience.
I flatter myself to have penetrated into the harmony of these different realms and
to have seen that both sides are right provided that they do not clash with each other;
that everything in nature happens mechanically and at the same time metaphysically
but that the source of mechanics is in metaphysics. It was not easy to uncover this mys-
tery, because there are few men who take the pains to combine both types of study.
Descartes did it, but not thoroughly enough. He went too fast in setting up most of
his doctrines; one may say that his philosophy is the entrance hall to the truth. What
held him back most was that he did not know the true laws of mechanics or of motion;
these could have put him back on the track. Mr. Huygens was the first to see them,
though imperfectly, but he had no taste for metaphysics, any more than did other
capable men who have followed him in investigating this subject. I have observed in
my book that if Descartes had seen that nature conserves not only the same force but
also the same total directiqn in the laws of motion, he would not have held that the soul
can change the direction 9f the body more easily than its force, and he would have gone
straightway to the system. of pre-established harmony, which is a necessary conclusion
from the conservation of both force and direction. 3 •••
II
[G., III, 611-13]
Vienna, March 14, 1714
... If I have succeeded in arousing men of excellence to cultivate the infinitesimal
calculus, this is because I have been able to give some important examples of its

usefulness. When I first told Mr. Huygens something about it in my letters, he scorned
it; he did not think there was anything mysterious in it until he saw its surprising
applications, which led him to study it just before his death - this man whose pre-
eminent merit almost gave him the right to distrust everything which he himself did
not know. I have spoken to the Marquis de I'Hospital and others about my universal
symbolistic, but they have paid no more attention to it than if I had told them about
a dream I had dreamed. I should have to support it too by some obvious application,
but to achieve this it would be necessary to work out at least a part of my characteristic
- a task which is not easy, especially in my present condition and without the advantage
of discussions with men who could stimulate me and help me in work of this nature.
The source of our difficulties with the composition of the continuum comes from
the fact that we think of matter and space as substances, whereas in themselves ma-
terial things are merely well-regulated phenomena, and space is exactly the same as the
order of coexistence, as time is the order of existence which is not simultaneous. 4 Insofar
as they are not designated in extension by factual phenomena, parts consist only in
possibility; there are no parts in a line except as there are fractions in unity. But if we
assume that all possible points actually exist in the whole - as we should have to say
if this whole were a substantial thing composed of all its parts - we should be lost in an
inextricable labyrinth.
I once said something about this to Mr. Hugony, who writes me that he has the
honor of your acquaintance. He has also seen my rather extensive thoughts on Locke's
work on the human understanding. I have a repugnance against publishing refutations
of dead authors, however, for such refutations should appear during their lives and
be sent to the authors themselves. Some slight comments escaped me, I do not know
how, and were carried to England by a relative of the late Mr. Burnet, Bishop of
Salisbury. Mr. Locke saw them and spoke of them with disdain in a letter to Mr. Moly-
neux, which is found with others in Locke's posthumous letters. I did not know of his
opinion until after this letter was published, but I am not surprised, for our principles
differed a little too widely, and those which I advanced must have seemed paradoxical
to him. But a friend who is inclined to favor me rather than Locke tells me that what
was insetted of my reflections seemed to him the best in the collection. s Since I have
not seen it, I cannot confirm his judgment. Mr. Locke had subtlety and skill and a kind
of superficial :metaphysics for which he was able to secure acclaim, but he was ignorant
of the math~matical method.
It is too bad that Pascal, a mind at once outstanding in mathematics and meta-
physics, grew, weak too soon, as Mr. Huygens once told me, because of too persistent
labors and t~p much pre-occupation with theological works with which he might have
secured the ~rplause of a large party if he had been able to finish them. He even gave
himself up tq austerities which could not have helped profound thinking, and even
less his healthl His nephew, Mr. Perier, once gave me an excellent work by his uncle on
conic section~ to read and arrange; I hoped that it would be published at once. It would
have conserve~ for him the honor of originality in matters which deserve such pains.. ,.
III
[G., III, 618-21]
Vienna, July, 1714
... It is true that my Theodicy does not suffice to present my system as a whole. But if
it is joined with what I have published in various journals, those of Leipzig, Paris, and
those of Mr. Bayle and Mr. Basnage, it will not fall far short of doing so, at least for
the principles ....
Mr. Wolff has adopted some of my opinions, but since he is very busy with teaching,
especially in mathematics, and we have not had much correspondence together on
philosophy, he can know very little about my opinions beyond those which I have
published. I have seen some of the things which young men have written under him;
I found much that is good in them, yet there were points with which I did not agree.
So if he has written something in the soul, whether in German or some other language,
I shall try to see it and tell you about it ....
When I was young, I found some pleasure in the Lullian art, yet I thought also that
I found some defects in it, and I said something about these in a little schoolboyish
essay called On the Art o/Combinations, published in 1666, and later reprinted without
my permission. But I do not readily disdain anything - except the arts of divination,
which are nothing but pure cheating - and I have found something valuable, too, in
the art of Lully and in the Digestum sapientiae of the Capuchin, Father Ives, which
pleased me greatly because he found a way to apply Lully's generalities to useful par-
ticular problems. But it seems to me that Descartes had a profundity of an entirely
different level. In spite of the advancement which much of our knowledge has received
from it, however, his philosophy also has its defects, of which you cannot be unaware by
this time.
As for Gassendi, of whom you ask my opinion, I find that he has great and wide
knowledge and is well versed in his reading of the ancients and in both secular and eccle-
siastical history and all classes of learning. But his thoughts satisfy me less now than
they did when I first began to drop Scholastic views in my own schoolboy days. Since
the atomic theory satisfies the perceptual imagination, I gave myself to it, and it
seemed to me that the void of Democritus or Epicurus, together with their incorruptible
atoms, would remove all difficulties. It is true that this hypothesis can satisfy mere
physical scientists, and assuming that there are such atoms and giving them suitable
motions and figures, there are few material qualities which they could not explain if we
knew enough of the details of things. So the philosophy of Gassendi could be used to
introduce young students to the knowledge of nature, if they were told that the void
and the atoms were used merely as a hypothesis and that they might someday fill this
void with a fluid so subtle that it could hardly affect phenomena and also that the
permanent rigidity of the atoms must not be taken too rigorously.
Having pushed my own thinking further, however, I have found that the void and the
atoms cannot subsist at all. Some letters which I exchanged with Mr. Hartsoeker have
been published in the Memoires de Trevoux, in which I propose certain general reasons
drawn from higher principles, which refute atoms. 6 I could offer still others, for my
whole system is opposed to them.
As concerns the disputes between Gassendi and Descartes, I find that Gassendi was
right in rejecting some alleged demonstrations of Descartes about God and the soul.
Fundamentally, however, I believe that the opinions of Descartes are the better, even
though they have not been sufficiently demonstrated. Gassendi, instead, seems to me
to waver too much on the nature of the soul and, in a word, on natural theology.
It appears from a letter of Mr. Locke to Molyneux which is printed in Locke's
posthumous correspondence that this able Englishman could not willingly endure

criticism. Since his reply to my criticisms had not been communicated to me, he did
not make it possible to answer him. I do not know whether my comments are found
in this collection in their entirety.
In my Theodicy I have expressed my opinion on the question of the action of God
and creatures, which is being so actively discussed now. If I am to examine the matter
more deeply, it seems to me that I shall have to hold to what I have said there. But
I should not be unwilling, some day, to examine the criticisms against Malebranche and
his replies to them. These questions lack clarity because we do not have good defini-
tions ....
IV
[G., III, 634-40]
Hanover, February 11,1715
Your letters always reveal your kindness and intelligence alike; I should like to deserve
the former and to satisfy the latter. The lack of confidence which I feel about my
health has prevented me from accompanying Her Highness, the Princess of Wales.
Indeed, the gout has since seized me; it is not so very painful, but it prevents me from
working outside my study, where I always find time too short, and am therefore never
bored. This is a joy in my misfortune.
I come to your difficulties, and I thank you for stating them, Sir, for I ask for nothing
more than to receive objections from people of your sincerity and penetration.
1. As for metempsychosis, I believe that the universal order does not permit it; it
demands that everything should be explicable distinctly and that nothing should take
place in a leap. But the passage of the soul from one body to another would be a
strange and inexplicable leap. What happens in an animal at present happens in it
always; that is, the body is in continuous change like a river, and what we call gene-
ration or death is only a greater or quicker change than ordinary, as would be a
waterfall or cataract in a river. But these leaps are not absolute and of the kind which
I reject, as would be that of a body which went from one position to another without
passing through the intervening space. Such leaps are prohibited not only in motion
but also in the whole order of things or of truths. This is why I have shown, in the let-
ters to Mr. Hartsoeker recently printed in the Memoires de Trevoux, that the assump-
tion of a void and atoms would lead us to such leaps. But just as there are certain
outstanding points in a geometric curve which are called summits, bend points, points
of return, or some other thing, and as there are curves which contain an infinity of
them, even so there must be conceived in the life of an animal or a person times of
extraordinary change which still fall within the general rule - as the distinctive points of
a curve can be determined by its general nature or its equation. We can always say of
an animal that everything is just as it is now; the difference is only that of more or less.
2. Since it is possible to conceive that by a development and change of matter the
machine which constitutes the body of a spermatic animal can become such a machine
as is necessary to form the organic body of man, it is also necessary for a soul which is
only sensitive to become a reasonable soul, because of the perfect harmony between
the soul and the machine. But since this harmony is pre-established, the future state
will already be contained in the present, and a perfect intelligence would recognize the
future man far in advance in the present animal, as much in its soul alone as in its body
alone. Thus a mere animal will never become a man, and the human spermatic animals
which do not pass into this great transformation through conception are mere animals.
3. There are undoubtedly a thousand derangements, a thousand disorders, in par-
ticular. But it is impossible that there should be any in the whole, even in each monad,
since each monad is a living mirror of the universe according to its point of view. It is
impossible that the universe as a whole should not be well regulated, since the superior-
ity of its perfections is the reason for the existence of this system of things in preference
to any other possible system. Thus the disorders must exist only in the parts. Just so
there are geometric curves the parts of which are irregular, but, when the entire curve
is considered, one finds it to be perfectly regulated according to its equation or general
nature. So all these particular disorders are redressed with benefit in the whole, even
in each monad.
4. As for the inertia of matter, since matter itself is nothing but a phenomenon -
though well founded - which results from the monads, this is also true of inertia, which
is a property of this phenomenon. It is necessary that matter should seem to be some-
thing which resists motion and that a small body in motion or with force could not
impart it to a great body at rest without losing its own; otherwise the effect would
exceed the cause, that is, there would be more force in the succeeding state than in
the preceding one. Thus it would appear that matter is something which resists the
motion which one tries to impart to it. But in the interior of things, since absolute
reality rests only in the monads and their perceptions, these perceptions must be well
regulated; that is, the rules of fitness must be observed, one of which orders that the
effect must not exceed its cause. If matter were a substance, as it is commonly thought
to be, it could not (without a miracle) observe the rules of fitness, and left to itself,
it would observe certain brute laws depending upon a mathematical necessity and
absolutely separated from experience. I said something about this some years ago in
one of the Paris journals, in reply to the Abbe Catelan, I believe, and I regret not being
able now to give you the year and the number. 7 Furthermore, since all monads (except
the primitive one) are subject to passions, they are not pure forces; they are the
foundation not only of actions but of resistance and passivity, and their passions are
found in their confused perceptions. It is in this that matter or the numerically infinite
is involved.
You see, Sir, that I make an effort always to satisfy you, and as you see, by using
the same principles. But I do not know if I have succeeded. If there remain difficulties
for you, the more you explain them, the more I shall be in a position to enter into them
and either give up my view or satisfy you.
I have always been most satisfied, from my very youth, with the ethics of Plato and
in some ways with his metaphysics as well; these two sciences demand each other's
company, as do mathematics and physics. If someone were to reduce Plato to a system,
he would render a great service to mankind, and it would then be clear that my own
views approach his somewhat. The late Mr. Boileau spoke a little too much like a
Jansenist when he called the ancients "these damned ancients". The Jesuits are more
reasonable in this matter. But I believe that Boileau was trying to jeer. When I was a
young boy, the students of my day sang: "Summus Aristoteles, Plato, et Euripides,
ceciderunt in profundum." 8
When I made my comments on the little work on the uses of raillery, I did not know
that Lord Shaftesbury was its author. Nor did I give my notes to anyone, contenting
myself with reading them to Madame the Electress. I found afterward that Lord

660 LE'IBNIZ: PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS AND LETTERS
Shaftesbury had corrected himself remarkably as his thought progressed and that
from a Lucian he had become a Plato - certainly an unusual metamorphosis, and one
which made me regret his loss greatly. Also, I spoke in an entirely different tone in
commenting on his Characteristics. 9 I shall send you a copy of my first comments,
however.
But here are some slight reflections of an entirely different nature which I take the
liberty of sending you, Sir, and I beg you, after having read them and even having
them copied, if you wish, to put them in the letter by quick post addressed to the Abbe
de St.-Pierre; I pray you to have this sealed and sent thus to the Abbe Varignon along
with the letter for him. For it is he who sent me the letter of the Abbe de St.-Pierre,
along with his work on the Project for Perpetual Peace, about which the author had
asked my opinion. This project shows excellent intentions and contains sound reason-
ing. 10 It is very certain that, if men wished, they could free themselves of these three
scourges - war, pestilence, and famine. As for the last two, every sovereign wants this,
but against war this accord of sovereigns is still lacking and is difficult to obtain. This
interesting subject could receive very great elaboration, particularly through historical
studies ....
REFERENCES
1 Lucretius De rerum natura ii.

2 That is, the Latin schools preparatory to the university. The curriculum of the Nicolai School
in Leipzig, while not conforming completely to the medieval trivium, still consisted of Latin
and Greek, rhetoric, and logic, together with Scholastic theology. Kabitz has shown that
Leibniz's memory was at fault in setting his decision at so early an age; he was probably 17.
3 Theodicy, Part I, Sec. 61 ; cf. Monadology, Sec. 80.
4 The sentence underscored by Leibniz is in Latin.
5 The reference is to Some Familiar Letters between Mr. Locke and Several of His Friends,
which appeared in London in 1708. It contained Re/lexions de M. L. sur /' Essai de /' entendement
humain de M. Locke, written in 1696 and sent to Thomas Burnet (G., V., 14-19).
6 See p. 628, note 12.
7 The reply to Catelan was made, not in a Paris journal, but in Bayle's Nouvelles de fa re-
publique des fettres, in 1687 (G., III, 407-17).
8 "Aristotle, Plato, and Euripides, all together, have fallen into the depths."
9 See No. 65 for Leibniz's notes on the Characteristics. His earlier comments on Shaftes-
bury's Letter on Enthusiasm (including the Uses of Raillery) are found in G., III, 407-17.
10 Leibniz's Observations sur Ie projet d'une paix perpetuelle de M. l' Abbe de Saint-Pierre was
published by Des Maizeaux in 1720.
69
LETTERS TO LOUIS BOURGUET

1714-15
An early supporter of Leibniz's views, with a keen interest in their applications to natural
science, Louis Bourgu,;{ (1678-1742) was a merchant and scholar of broad interests who
lived in Venice from 1711 to 1715. The correspondence of the two men began in 1709 on
matters relating to the origin of the alphabet, proceeded to problems of the Theodicy,
and later raised important questions about Leibniz's consistency in matters of physics,
biology, and historical change.
[G., III, 572-76]

Hanover, December ... , 1714
I have at last received the letter which you sent by Mr. Hermann, and I am pleased to
see your comments on my Theodicy. I quite agree that the idea of possibles necessarily
implies the idea of the existence of a being who could produce the possible. But the
idea of possibles does not at all imply the existence itself of this being, as you seem to
hold when you say, "If there were no such being, nothing would be possible." In order
for the thing to be possible, it suffices that a being should be possible capable of
producing the thing. Generally speaking, if a thing is to be possible, it suffices that
its efficient cause should be possible; I make an exception of the supreme efficient cause,
which must exist in fact. But this belongs to another chapter - that nothing would be
possible if the necessary being did not exist. This is because the reality of possibles and
of eternal truths must be founded upon something real and existent.
I do not agree that "in order to know of the romance if 'Astrea' is possible, it is
necessary to know its connections with the rest of the universe". It would indeed be
necessary to know this if it is to be compossible with the universe, and as a consequence
to know if this romance has taken place, is taking place, or will take place in some corner
of the world, for surely there would be no place for it without such connections. And
it is very true that what is not, never has been, and never will be is not possible, if
we take the possible in the sense of the compossible, as I have just said. It may be that
Diodorus, Abelard, Wycliffe, and Hobbes had this idea in their heads without comple-
tely untangling it. But whether the 'Astrea' is possible in an absolute sense is another
question, to which I answer 'Yes', because it does not imply any contradiction. Yet in
order for this novel to exist in fact, it would be necessary for the rest of the universe
also to be entirely different from what it is - and it is possible that it should be otherwise.
I am in no greater agreement, Sir, with your added remark that, "in order to be sure
that there is an infinity of possible worlds, we should have to think of them as ended and
determined". This comes from the same confusion of possibles for compossibles.
When you say that "one world that is infinite (in every respect) must in a sense include
all possible worlds", I agree - in the sense which I have given, taking possibles to mean
compossibles.

You also say that "one infinite series contains all possible numbers". I cannot agree
with this either, for the series of square numbers is infinite, yet it does not contain all
possible numbers. You add to this the words: "If one considers the universe as a
collection, one cannot say that there could be many worlds in it." This would be true
if the universe were a collection of all possibles, but it is not, since all possibles are not
compossible. Thus the universe is a collection of a certain order of compossibles only,
and the actual universe is a collection of all the possibles which exist, that is to say,
those which form the richest composite. And since there are different combinations of
possibilities, some of them better than others, there are many possible universes, each
collection of compossibles making up one of them.
I can see no reason why "one cannot say in a rigorous sense that our intellects conceive
of possibilities which will never exist". Perhaps there are figures of geometry and of
surd numbers which have never existed and never will. Are they any the less possible,
that is to say, less knowable? "Everything which comes from God (you say) necessarily
bears the characteristics of order, and consequently is admitted to existence as the
product of his perfections." These are your words, with which I agree. They prove that
only the best exists but not that only the best is possible - unless you change the meaning
of terms. I call possible anything which is perfectly conceivable and which, as a result,
has an essence or an idea, without raising the question of whether the rest of the world
permits it to become existent.
So far I have given an exact analysis of your objections, after which there is no need
to run through what you say about the actions of God and of intelligent creatures,
about a private man becoming king, about the journey of someone like Bacchus or
Hercules to India, about the possibility of sin, etc. It seems to me that these objections
are the aftereffects of reading Mr. Poiret. But when you say that "to hold that a world
without evil, preferable in order to ours is impossible, is to let Mr. Bayle win", I do
not rightly understand the reasons which you offer, for what you say contains no
'becauses' or 'therefores'. So I do not consider it an objection.
You add that "evil counts for nothing in the decisions of God". If this is understood
as you seem to explain it a little later, that "the consideration of evil is not great
enough to counterbalance the good", I agree with it. In this way the striving for the
greatest good still involves the admission of moral evil, though it seems that you would
prefer to agree to this only for metaphysical evil, or at most for some physical evil,
though you add no reason for this limitation. "As for metaphysical evil (you say) I do
not consider it as evil." But if you admit that there is metaphysical good, Sir, the
privation of this good will be metaphysical evil. When an intelligent being loses his
understanding without any pain and without sin - and therefore without any physical
or moral evil - do you not consider this as an evil? In any case you would merely be
changing. the meaning of terms.
So I find, Sir, that you could have satisfied all your doubts if you had taken the pains
to think carefully about what I have already said. Yet I am glad that I have been able
to show you this.
What you say about the development of life seems to me well taken. Those human
seminal animals which never attain a development of reason do not have this reason
enveloped within them.
In the way in which I define perception and appetite, all monads must necessarily
be endowed with them. I hold perception to be the representation of plurality in the
simple, and appetite to be the striving from one perception to another. But these two
things occur in all monads, for otherwise a monad would have no relation to the rest
of the world. I do not see how you can deduce any Spinozism from this; to do so is to
jump at conclusions. On the contlary, it is through these very monads that Spinozism
is destroyed, for there are just as many true substances, as many living mirrors of the
universe which subsist always, or as many concentrated universes, as there are monads;
according to Spinoza, on the contrary, there is only one substance. He would be right
if there were no monads; then everything except God would be of a passing nature and
would vanish into simple accidents or modifications, since there would be no substantial
foundation in things, such as consists in the existence of monads ....
II
[G., III, 580-83]
... You are right, Sir, in taking offense at the none too courteous remarks of the author
of the Preface to Mr. Newton's second edition 1, and I am astonished that Mr. Newton
let it pass. They should have spoken of Mr. Descartes with more respect, and with
more moderation of his followers. As far as I and my friends are concerned, whom they
also had in mind, they are angry because their alleged 'attractive force' was criticized
in the Leipzig Acts, though with much restraint, as being merely a revival of chimeras
which had already been banned. They commit a shrewd sophism to give themselves an
air of reasonableness and to make us appear in the wrong, as if we were opposing
those who assume gravity, without giving a reason for it. This is not at all true; we
rather disapprove of the method of those who assume irrational qualities, as the
Scholastics once did, that is, primary qualities which have no natural reason, to be
explained by the nature of the subject to which the equality must belong. We agree and
maintain with them, and have maintained even before they published their view, that
the great globes of our system, having a certain magnitude, attract each other. But
since we hold that this can happen only in a way that has an explanation, namely, by
the impact of more subtle bodies, we cannot admit that attraction is a primary property
essential to matter, as these gentlemen claim. It is this opinion which is false, based on
a hasty judgement, and incapable of being proved by phenomena. This error has
produced their second one, namely, that there must necessarily be a vacuum. They
see rightly that their pretended mutual attraction between all the parts of matter would
be useless and without effect if everything were full. I will not reply to men who attack
me in a crude and unkind manner. According to these authors, substances would not
only be unknown to us, as you well remark, Sir; it would even be impossible for
anyone, whoever he might be, to know them. God himself could not know them if their
nature is such as these men say. The only thing they can reply to this with any appear-
ance of reason will be that God makes them act in this way by a miracle or better, that
he acts for them. So we should have to return to the Mosaic philosophy of Robert Fludd,
which Gassendi gave its fitting treatment in a special work. 2 Similarly, when Roberval
said, in his Aristarque, that the planets attract each other - a remark which he may have
understood in its right sense - Descartes, taking it in the sense of our new philosophers,
made himself merry over it in a letter to Father Mersenne. 3
You would oblige me by telling me where Mr. Clarke, Mr. Ditton, and others make

use of the principle which I have put forward - that God has chosen the best possible
plan. I am too busy to be able to do enough reading.
Of what the perception of plants consists, we cannot say; indeed, we do not even have
any good conception of that of animals. But it is enough to say that the plant has a
variety in unity and therefore has a perception; and it is enough that it has a tendency
toward new perceptions and therefore appetite, in the general sense in which I use
these terms. Mr. Swammerdam has supplied observations which show that insects are
close to plants with respect to their organs of respiration and that there is a definite
order of descent in nature from animals to plants. But perhaps there are other beings
between these two.
As for the nature of succession, where you seem to hold that we must think of a
first, fundamental instant, just as unity is the foundation of numbers and the point is
the foundation of extension, I could reply to this that the instant is indeed the founda-
tion of time but that since there is no one point whatsoever in nature which is funda-
mental with respect to all other points and which is therefore the seat of God, so to
speak, I likewise see no necessity whatever of conceiving a primary instant. I admit,
however, that there is this difference between instants and points - one point of the uni-
verse has no advantage of priority over another, while a preceding instant always has
the advantage of priority, not merely in time but in nature, over following instants. 4
But this does not make it necessary for there to be a first instant. There is involved
here the difference between the analysis of necessities and the analysis of contingents.
The analysis of necessities, which is that of essences, proceeds from the posterior by
nature to the prior by nature, and it is in this sense that numbers are analyzed into uni-
ties. But in contingents or existents, this analysis from the posterior by nature to the
prior by nature proceeds to infinity without ever being reduced to primitive elements.
Thus the analogy of numbers to instants does not at all apply here. It is true that the con-
cept of numbers is finally resolvable into the concept of unity, which is not further
analyzable and can be considered the primitive number. But it does not follow that the
concepts of different instants can be resolved finally into a primitive instant. Yet I do
not venture to deny that there may be a first instant. Two hypotheses can be formed -
one that nature is always equally perfect, the other that it always increases in perfec-
tion. If it is always equally perfect, though in variable ways, it is more probable that
it had no beginning. But if it always increases in perfection (assuming that it is im-
possible to give it its whole perfection at once), there would still be two ways of
explaining the matter, namely, by the ordinates of the hyperbola B or by that of the
triangle C (Figure 38). According to the hypothesis of the hyperbola, there would be
no beginning, and the instants or states of the world would have been increasing in
perfection from all eternity. But, according to the hypothesis of the triangle, there
would have been a beginning. The hypothesis of equal perfection would be that of
rectangle A. I do not yet see any way of demonstrating by pure reason which of these
we should choose. But though the state of the world could never be absolutely perfect
at any particular instant whatever according to the hypothesis of increase, nevertheless
the whole actual sequence would always be the most perfect of all possible sequences,
because God always chooses the best possible.
When I say that unity is not further analyzable, I mean that it cannot have parts
whose concept is simpler than it. Unity is divisible but not resolvable, for fractions,
which are parts of unity, have less simple concepts than whole numbers, which are
B A
I
c
! I I
I I
~I
I
I
Fig. 38.
I
I
I
less simple than unity, since whole numbers always enter into the concepts offractions.
Many who have philosophized about the point and about unity in mathematics have
become confused by failing to distinguish between analysis into concepts and division
into parts. Parts are not always simpler than wholes, though they are always less than
the whole ....
REFERENCES
1 The second edition of the Principia appeared in 1713. It was edited by Roger Cotes, one of the
ablest and most careful of England's younger mathematicians. The bitterness ofthecontroversy
over the founding of the calculus was shown in the Preface and is reflected in this letter.
2 On Fludd see p. 412, note 37. Fludd's views were attacked, and a mathematical theory of
physical method defended, by both Kepler and Gassendi, the latter in his Epistolica exercitatio
in qua praecipua principia philosophiae Roberti Fluddi reteguntur (1630).
3 Descartes to Mersenne, Apri120, 1646 (Correspondence, ed. Adam and Tannery, IV, 392-94,
397-403).
4 The irreversibility of temporal series is thus implicit in Leibniz's logic of existence.
70
THE METAPHYSICAL FOUNDATIONS OF MATHEMATICS

After 1714
In spite of the distractions of which he complained in the last years of his life, especially
the burdensome history of the House of Brunswick of which he was never free, Leibniz
had occasion to return to his earlier studies in mathematics and logic. This paper, first
published from the Hanover manuscripts by Gerhardt, continues and pushes to a higher
degree of generality the geometrical studies of 1679 (No. 27). It is part of an effort to
base a universal mathematical doctrine of quantity and quality, space and time, upon the
relations and processes of the universal characteristic. The relations of similarity and
congruence used in the earlier studies are combined in those of homogeneity, and the
principle of continuity is generalized into homogony. Specifically, algebra and analytic
geometry on the one hand, and Leibniz's own geometry of situation on the other, are
presented as special determinations of his science of characters, the former based on
quantity, the latter on quality.
[OM., VII, 17-29]
In his Latin course in mathematics (see the Acta eruditorum for 1714), the distinguished
mathematician Christian Wolff has recently mentioned certain ideas of mine about
the analysis of axioms and the mathematical nature of similarity and has explained
them in terms of his method. 1 I should like therefore to present here, lest they be lost,
certain views which I worked out some time ago, from which it will be clear that there
is an art of analysis more inclusive than mathematics, from which mathematical
science derives its most beautiful methods. To do this I shall have to introduce a
somewhat higher order of principles.
If a plurality of states of things is assumed to exist which involve no opposition to each
other, they are said to exist simultaneously. Thus we deny that what occurred last year
and this year are simultaneous, for they involve incompatible states of the same thing.
If one of two states which are not simultaneous involves a reason for the other, the
former is held to be prior, the latter posterior. My earlier state involves a reason for the
existence of my later state. And since my prior state, by reason of the connection
between all things, involves the prior state of other things as well, it also involves a
reason for the later state of these other things and is thus prior to them. Therefore
whatever exists is either simultaneous with other existences or prior or posterior.
Time is the order of existence of those things which are not simultaneous. Thus time
is the universal order of changes when we do not take into consideration the particular
kinds of change.
Duration is magnitude of time. If the magnitude of time is diminished uniformly and
continuously, time disappears into a moment, whose magnitude is zero.
Space is the order of coexisting things, or the order of existence for things which are
simultaneous. In each of the two orders - that of time and that of space - we can judge
relations of nearer to and farther from between its terms, according as more or less
middle terms are required to understand the order between them. Thus two points are
nearer if the maximally determined intervening forms arising from them produce a
simpler configuration. Such an interval of maximum determination, that is, the
minimum and at once the most conformal figure made by the intervening terms is the
simplest path from one to the other; in the case of points this is the straight line,
which is shorter between nearer points. 2
Extension is magnitude of space. It is wrong to confuse extension with what is extend-
ed, as is commonly done, and so to consider it as a substance. If the magnitude of space
is decreased continuously and uniformly, it disappears in a point which has no mag-
nitude.
Situs is a mode ofcoexistence. Therefore it involves not only quantity but also quality.
Quantity or magnitude is that in things which can be known only through their simulta-
neous compresence - or by their simultaneous perception. Thus it is impossible for us to
know what a foot or a yard is unless we actually have something to serve as a measure
which can be applied to successive objects after each other. A foot or a yard can there-
fore not be explained adequately by a definition; that is, by one which does not include
something similar to the thing defined. For though we may say that a foot is twelve
inches, the same question arises concerning the inch, and we gain no greater insight,
for we cannot say whether the notion of the inch or of the foot is prior in nature,
since it is entirely arbitrary which we wish to assume as basic.
Quality, on the other hand, is what can be known in things when they are observed
singly, without requiring any compresence. Such are the attributes which can be explain-
ed by a definition or through the various modes which they involve. 3
Equals are things having the same quantity. Similars are things having the same
quality. Hence, if two similar things are different, they can be distinguished only when
they are co-present.
From this it is clear, for example, that two equiangular triangles have their sides
proportional, and the converse. For if the sides are proportional, the triangles are
similar, since they may be determined in a similar way. Furthermore, the sum of the an-
gles in all triangles is the same, since it is equal to two right angles; therefore the ratio
of each angle in one triangle to the sum must necessarily correspond to the ratio of the
corresponding angle in the other triangle to the sum, for otherwise one triangle could
be distinguished from the other by this fact itself, that is, without further comparison
and in itself. In this way we can easily demonstrate what otherwise would require many
devious detours. 4
Two entities are homogeneous to which two other entities can be assigned which are
equal to them and similar to each other. Given A and B; if L is taken equal to A, and
M equal to B, and Land M are similar, we call A and B homogeneous. Hence I usually
say also that homogeneous entities are those which can be made similar to each other
by means of transformations, like curves and straight lines. That is, if A is transformed
into its equal L, it can be made similar to B, or to its equal M into which B is assumed
to have been transformed.
We say that an entity is in [inesse] some locus, or is an ingredient of something, if,
when we posit the'latter, we must also be understood, by this very fact and immediately,
without the necessity of any inference, to have posited the entity as well. Thus when we
posit any finite line, we also posit its end points as belonging to it.

An entity which is in something and is also homogeneous to it is called a part, and that
which it is in is called a whole; or a part is a homogeneous ingredient of a whole. 5
A common boundary of two things is an entity which is in them when they do not
have a part in common. Insofar as these two things are understood to be parts of a
single whole, their common boundary is called a section of the whole.
It is clear from this that a boundary is not homogeneous with what it bounds, nor
a section with what it cuts.
Although they are not homogeneous, time and a moment, space and a point, bound-
ary and the bounded, are nevertheless homogonous, because one can disappear into the
other by a process of continuous change.
If one locus is said to be in another locus, we understand it to be homogonous to it;
if it is also a part, or equal to a {lart of the other locus, it will be not merely homo-
gonous but also homogeneous. Although an angle is at a point, it is not in a point;
otherwise a point would be understood to have magnitude.
If a part of one thing is equal to the whole of another, the former is called greater,
the latter less. Hence the whole is greater than a part. For let the whole be A, the part B.
Then A is greater than B, because a part of A (namely, B) is equal to the whole of B.
This can be expressed in a syllogism whose major proposition is a definition, its
minor an identity:
Whatever is equal to a part of A is less than A, by definition.
But B is equal to a part of A (namely, to B), by hypothesis.
Therefore B is less than A.
Here we see that demonstrations are finally resolvable into two kinds of indemon-
strables: definitions or ideas, and primitive propositions or identities, such as B is B,
anything whatever is equal to itself, and a great many others ofthis kind.
Motion is change of situs. We say that a thing is moved if there is in it a change of
situs and at the same time a reason for this change.
The mobile is homogonous to the extended, for even a point is thought of as movable.
A path is the continuous and successive locus of a movable thing.
A trace [vestigium] is the locus of a movable thing, which it occupies at some moment.
Thus the trace of the boundary of a moving thing is a section of the path which the
boundary describes, assuming, namely, that the movable thing does not move within
its own trace. A movable thing is said to move within its own trace when each of its
points, with the exception of its boundary, continuously and successively moves into
the position of another point of the same thing. But assuming that the movable thing
does not move in this way, then a line is the path of a point.
A surface is the path of a line. A filled space [amp/um] or what is commonly called a
solid is the path of a surface. The magnitudes of the paths in which points describe
lines, lines surfaces, and surfaces solids are called length, breadth, and depth. These
are called dimensions, and in geometry it is shown that there are only three.
An entity has breadth if its section has extension or if its boundary is extended. An
entity has depth of it does not terminate anything extended or if it cannot be a section
of the extended; clearly there is something more in depth than what can be a boundary.
A line is the ultimate extended terminating entity. A solid is the ultimate extended
terminated entity.
Similarity or dissimilarity in solids or in space is recognized on the basis of their
boundaries; thus, since a solid is something more than what can be a boundary, it is
internally everywhere similar. Solids whose boundaries completely coincide and are
congruent and assimilated, themselves coincide, are congruent and similar. The same
thing is true in a plane, which is a surface internally uniform or similar to itself, and
in a straight line, which is a line internally similar to itself.
The complete boundary of an extended thing having breadth can be called its
perimeter [ambitus]. Thus the perimeter of a circle is its circumference; that of a sphere
is the spherical surface.
A point (i.e., of space) is the simplest locus, or the locus of no other locus. Absolute
space is the fullest locus, or the locus of all loci. Nothing results [prosultare] from a
single point.
From two points something new results, namely, the locus of all the points which
are uniquely determined by their situation in relation to the two given points, that is,
the straight line which passes through the two points.
From three points there results a plane, that is, the locus of all points whose situation
is uniquely determined in relation to three points not falling in the same straight line.
From four points not falling in the same plane there results absolute space. For every
point whatsoever is uniquely determined by its situation in relation to four points not
falling in the same plane.
I use the word 'to result' to indicate the determination of a new idea; that is, when
on the basis of certain assumed data, something else is uniquely determined by a
specific relation to these data. In the present case the relationship involved is that 01
situs.
Time can be continued to infinity. For since a whole of time is similar to a part, it will
be related to another whole of time as its part is to it. Thus it must always be under-
stood as capable of being continued into another greater time. Similarly, solid space
or amplitude can also be continued to infinity, since any of its parts can also be taken as
similar to the whole. In the same way a plane and a straight line can also be continued
to infinity. The same argument can be used to show that space, as well as a straight
line and time, or in general, any continuum, can be subdivided to infinity. For in a
straight line as in time, a part is similar to the whole and can therefore itself be cut in
the same ratio as the whole. Though there are extended things in which the part is not
similar to the whole, they can nevertheless be transformed into entities in which this
is true and can thus be cut in the same ratio as that into which they are transformed.
From these considerations it follows also that for every given motion we can posit
another that is faster or slower in a given ratio, for if a rigid ray be moved about one
of its points as center, the motions of its points are proportional to their distance from
the center, so that the velocities will vary as the distances.
The estimation of magnitude is of two kinds, imperfect and perfect. It is imperfect
when we say something is greater or less than another, although they are not homo-
geneous and have no ratio between them; as, for instance, when it is said that a line is
greater than a point, or a surface than a line. It was in this sense that Euclid said that
the angle of contact [of a tangent to a circle] is less than any straight-lined angle,
though there is no true comparison between these two entirely distinct types, since
they are not homogeneous, nor can one pass into the other by continuous change. In
perfect estimations of the quantity of homogeneous entities, the rule must hold that all
intermediate states can be passed through in moving continuously from one extreme

to another. This rule does not hold in imperfect estimations, because what we here
call intermediate states are heterogeneous. Thus, in passing over from a given acute
angle to a right angle, one does not pass through the angle which a diameter or radius
makes with the circumference of a circle, although this angle is said to be less than a
right angle and greater than any acute angle. Here 'greater' is incorrectly taken to
mean that one thing falls entirely within the boundaries of another.
There are many relations according to quantity; thus two straight lines can have the
relation to each other that their sum is equal to a constant straight line. There can be
an infinite number of pairs of straight lines, x and y, which have the relation, x + y = a.
So, for example, if a is 10, x and y can be 1 and 9,2 and 8, 3 and 7, 4 and 6, 5 and 5,
6 and 4, 7 and 3, 8 and 2, 9 and 1. But there can also be an infinite number of fractions
within 10 which satisfy the condition. We can also have a relation between two straight
lines such that the sum of their squares equals the square of a given straight line a,
or that x 2 + y2 = a 2 , and of these, there could also be an infinite number of pairs. In
the circle this is the relation between the sine of any angle and the sine of its comple-
mentary angle, or the opposite, if either one is x, the other is y, and the radius is a. An
infinite number of such relations can be devised, as many as there are kinds of curves
which one can describe in a plane. For instance, if the x's are taken as abscissas on a
horizontal line, the y's are ordinates parallel to each other applied vertically to the
abscissas, whose ends form a curve.
The simplest of all relations is that called ratio or proportion, and this is the relation
between two homogeneous quantities which arises from themselves alone without
assuming a third homogeneous quantity. So if y is to x as any number is to unity, or
y = nx, x being taken as abscissa, and y as ordinate, the locus, or the line in which the
ordinates end, is a straight line. It is also clear from this that if there be an equation of
any degree for the locus, such as Ix 3 + my3 + nx 2y + pxy2 = 0, where I, m, n, and pare
specific numbers, the locus to which the equation will apply will be a ratio between
these same x's and y's . ... 6
... It is also to be noted that the whole of algebra is an application to quantities of the
art o[ combinations, or of the science of abstracted forms, which is the universal
characteristic and belongs to metaphysics. So the product of the multiplication of
a + b + c + etc. by 1+ m + n + etc. is nothing but the sum of alI the binary combina-
tions which can be built out of the letters of the two series, and the product of the three
series a+b+ c + etc., I+m +n + etc., and s + t+v + etc. is the sum of all the
ternary combinations which can be built from the three series ofletters. Other forms will
be produced from other operations.
Thus our calculation usefully obeys not only the law of homogeneous entities but
also the law of justice [lex justitiae] 7, according to which the relations between entities
in our conclusions or results must correspond to the similar relations in the data, and
must therefore be treated in the same way in mathematical operations, insofar as this is
practical. The proposition is true in general that when the data proceed in a certain
order, the conclusions proceed in a corresponding order. From this arises also the
law o[ continuity which I was the first to formulate, according to which the law of
bodies at rest is, as it were, a special case of the law of bodies in motion; the law of
equals, as it were, a special case of the law of unequals; the law of curves, as it were, a
special case of the law for straight lines. This is always true when a transition is possible
from a genus to its limit in a special case which is its apparent opposite. Here belongs
also tl}e method of reasoning which geometricians have long admired, in which they
make use of an initial hypothesis to prove its opposite, by first treating it as a special
case and then finding it to be disparate and opposite from the original problem. 8 This
is the advantage of the continuous. But continuity is found in time, extension, qualities,
and movement - in fact, in all natural changes, for these never take place by leaps.
Situs is a certain relationship of coexistence between a plurality of entities; it is
known by going back to other coexisting things which serve as intermediaries, that is,
which have a simpler relation of coexistence to the original entities.
But we know as coexisting, not merely those things which we perceive together, but
also those which we perceive successively, provided only that, during the transition
from the perception of one to that of the other, the former is not destroyed and the
latter generated. From the latter requirement it follows that both coexist now, at the
present moment in which we attain the latter perception; from the former it follows
that both existed when we experienced the former thing.
There is, moreover, a definite order in the transition of our perceptions when we
pass from one to the other through intervening ones. This order, too, we can call a
path. But since it can vary in infinite ways, we must necessarily conceive of one that is
most simple, in which the order of proceeding through determinate intermediate states
follows from the nature of the thing itself, that is, the intermediate stages are related in
the simplest way to both extremes. If this were not the case, there would be no order
and no reason for distinguishing among coexisting things, since one could pass from
one given thing to another by any path whatever. It is this minimal path from one
thing to another whose magnitude is called distance. 9
To make this more understandable, we shall now leave out of consideration all that
we see in the particular things in which distance is involved and consider them as if
they contained no plurality of properties; that is, we shall consider them as points.
For that is a point in which nothing else can be assumed to coexist, so that whatever is
in it is it.
Then the path of a point will be a line, and this cannot have breadth, since its section,
a point, can have no length. Nothing further is determined by one given point. But two
points determine the simplest path from one to the other, which we designate as a straight
line.
1. From this it follows, in the first place, that a straight line is the shortest distance
between two points or that its magnitude is the distance between the points.
2. Second, the straight line is uniform between its extremities. For there is no de-
termining factor given from which we can infer a reason for variation.
3. It follows necessarily, therefore, that one locus of a point moving along it can be
distinguished from another only in relation to its extremities. Hence any part of a
straight line is also straight, and a line is everywhere internally similar to itself, nor can
two parts be distinguished from each other if they cannot be distinguished by means of
their extremities.
4. It follows also that if the extremities of two lines are taken to be similar, con-
gruent, or coincident, the lines themselves will be similar, congruent, or coincident.
But extremities are always similar; therefore two str~ight lines are always similar, as is
every part to its whole.
5. In the third place, it follows from the definition that a straight line passes through
those points which have a unique relation to the two given points, this relation being

that of maximal determination. There must necessarily be such points, otherwise no

further determinations whatever could result from two points. If there were any other
point related in the same way to A and B together as are the proposed points, there
would be no reason why that simplest path should be determined by these given points
rather than by that other one. This is also clear from what has preceded, where we
showed that a straight line is determined if its extremities are given or that lines coincide
when their extremities coincide.
6. Fourth, it follows that a straight line is uniform in all directions; it is neither concave
nor convex as is a curve, since no reason for such diversity can be derived from two
given points.
7. Hence it follows that if any two points, Land M, are taken outside of the line
in such a way as to be related in the same way to two points on the line, or in such
a way that the relation of L to A and B is identical with that of M to A and B, they will
also have an identical relationship to the entire line, or L will be related to the line AB
in exactly the same way as M is related to it.
S. It is also clear that a rigid straight line, or one whose points do not change their
situs with respect to each other, cannot move if two points in it are fixed. Otherwise
there would be many points having the same relations to the two fixed points - namely,
the situation in which the moving point was before it moved, and that to which it
moved.
9. It follows conversely that all other points which do not fall on a straight line AB
or which do not lie in the direction AB can be moved without changing their situs in
relation to A and B, if A and B remain fixed. For the straight line is the locus of all
points having a unique relation to A and B; therefore all other points can be varied, and
in any direction, since the straight line has the same relations in all directions.
10. Therefore if a rigid solid is moved in such a way that two points remain fixed,
all its points which remain at rest will fall on a straight line passing through the
fixed points; any moving point will describe a circle about that same straight line
as axis.
Given three points which do not fall in the same straight line, the figure uniquely
determined by them is a plane. Let A, B, and C be three points not falling in the same
straight line; then the points A and B determine a straight line AB, and points Band C
determine the straight line BC. But any point on the line AB, together with any point
on the line BC, determines a new straight line, and hence, given three points A, B, and
C, an infinite number of straight lines is determined whose locus is called the plane.
1. Hence, in the first place, a plane is the smallest surface within a given boundary.
Its perimeter does not consist in a straight line, because a straight line does not inclose
space; otherwise a part of the straight line would be dissimilar to the whole. If the per-
imeter is given, therefore three points not falling in the same straight line are also given,
and so the given perimeter determines only the plane which it bounds, and this plane
must be a minimum.
2. Second, a plane is uniform within its boundaries, since no reason can be found
in its origin for any variation.
3. Hence it follows that a plane is everywhere internally similar to itself, so that the
momentary locus of any point moving within it cannot be distinguished from any other
locus except in relation to the boundaries of the plane. Nor can one part of a plane
be distinguished from another part except through their boundaries.
4. It follows further that planes whose perimeters are similar or congruent or

coincident are themselves similar, or congruent, or coincident.
5. Third, it is clear from the definition of a plane that it is the locus of all points
uniquely determined in relation to three given points.
6. Fourth, it follows that a plane is related in the same way to both sides of it, and
so is neither concave nor convex.
7. If a point has a definite relation to A, E, and C at the same time, or to the plane
determined by them, then there is another point which has the same relation to these
three points and to their plane, since no reason can be given for a difference.
8. The plane possesses breadth, for it can be cut by a straight line passing through
any two given points on it. Hence its section possesses length. But a figure whose
section has length itself has breadth.
Given four points not in the same plane, the result is depth, or a figure in which there
is something which cannot serve as a boundary, or which cannot be common to itself
and to some other figure unless the latter is included in it as a part. 10 ••.
REFERENCES
1 The reference is to an anonymous review of Christian Wolff, Elementa matheseos universae,

Vol. I (Halle, 1713), in which are pointed out Wolff's use of Leibniz's definition ofsimilars and
his syllogistic proof of the axiom that the whole is greater than any of its parts. Leibniz here
puts both ideas into a context of more general principles.
2 See p. 247, note 5; p. 258, notes 8 and 10; and p. 410, note 1. Though Leibniz does
not here make clear the conditions imposing a maximal determination upon points constituting
a straight line, they involve conformality in the sense that any part of the line is similar to the
whole, and this conformality includes the property of minimal distance between points.
Considered as a definition of a straight line, therefore, his account does not free itself from
Archimedes' definition, though it uses a much broader basis - the principle of the extremum.
3 These logical and intensional analyses of Leibniz illustrate the distinction between logical and
empirical analysis which he made at the close of the second letter to Bourguet (No. 68, II). This
distinction is essential, too, in understanding the point of view of his logic, which moves from
perceptual grasp of qualities to the analysis and combination of essences.
Quality, as contrasted with quantity, is intrinsically determinable (cf. No. 27, III). It must
not be confused with sense qualities, however, but must be understood to mean the intrinsic
relations between the elements of single mathematical figures or 'formulas'.
4 For the calculus of similarity see No. 27, III, where these theorems are developed more fully.
5 See p. 144, note 7. The relation of part-whole is thus more determinate than that of con-
tained-container, adding to it the requirement of homogeneity (see New Essays, Book IV,
17,8 [G., V, 469], and Couto L., pp. 305-6).
6 The omitted paragraphs describe more complex functions, those involving infinite series and
incommensurables, as well as linear, quadratic, and cubic functions. The whole thus con-
stitutes an analytic derivation of the notion of functionality, in which the homogeneity of all
real numbers with one is involved.
7 Or the law of correspondence or of equipollence.
S An example which Leibniz frequently uses is Euclid's derivation of the area of a circle from
that of a circumscribed regular polygon (Elements xii. 2), not directly but by proving the absur-
dity of alternate assumptions.
9 This paragraph, treating a monadic series as a specially determined case of more general
mathematical principles, is valuable for studying the relations between logical analysis and
674 HANOVER UNDER GEORGE LOUIS, 1698-1716
phenomenological interpretation in Leibniz. In the case of our perceptions the maximally

determined movement is determined by the law of the series; thus the paragraph also identifies
the mathematical principle of the extremum or maximum with the axiological principle of the
best possible.
10 There follows a more detailed analysis of the solid determined by four points.
71
THE CONTROVERSY BETWEEN LEIBNIZ AND CLARKE

1715-16
The sharp issues raised between Leibniz's physics and metaphysics and the conceptions
of his English rival, Sir Isaac Newton, were clearly and bitterly drawn in the correspond-
ence with Newton's English follower, the theologian Samuel Clarke (1675-1729). The
correspondence was mediated by Leibniz's former pupil at Hanover, Caroline, Princess
of Wales; and it is clear that Newton himself supplied Clarke with his critical questions
and answers. There was not merely objective concern for truth in the letters but animus
as well, for Clarke had set out to discredit Leibniz's philosophical and theological pre-
tensions, as the Royal Society had apparently succeeded in discrediting his mathematical
originality in the Commercium epistolicum D. Joh. Collinsii et aliorum de analysi
promota, which it published in 1712. As Leibniz himself explains in writing to Christian
Wolff on December 23,1715, a note which he wrote to the Princess of Wales gave the
occasion for Clarke's first reply. Leibniz's death, after nine letters had passed between
the correspondents, gave Clarke the last word; though he published his fifth letter!, it
has not been found among Leibniz's papers.
The historical importance of the controversy is shown in its effects upon later discus-
sions of the problems of physical relativity, causality, and method. The texts are taken,
though with modernized spelling, capitalization, and punctuation, from Clarke's edition
of the correspondence, and his translation of Leibniz's letters is used (cj. G., VII,
345-440).
I. LEIBNIZ'S FIRST PAPER, BEING AN EXTRACT OF A LETTER

WRITTEN IN NOVEMBER 1715
1. Natural religion itself seems to decay [in England] very much. Many will have human
souls to be material; others make God himself a corporeal being.
2. Mr. Locke and his followers are uncertain at least whether the soul be not ma-
terial and naturally perishable.
3. Sir Isaac Newton says that space is an organ which God makes use of to perceive
things by. But if God stands in need of an organ to perceive things by, it will follow
that they do not depend altogether on him, nor were produced by him.
4. Sir Isaac Newton and his followers have also a very odd opinion concerning the
work of God. According to their doctrine, God Almighty 2 wants [Le., needs] to wind
up his watch from time to time; otherwise it would cease to move. He had not, it
seems, sufficient foresight to make it a perpetual motion. Nay, the machine of God's
making is so imperfect according to these gentlemen that he is obliged to clean it now
and then by an extraordinary concourse, and even to mend it as a clockmaker mends
his work, who must consequently be so much the more unskilful a workman, as he is
oftener obliged to mend his work and to set it right. According to my opinion, the

same force and vigor remains always in the world and only passes from one part of
matter to another, agreeably to the laws of nature and the beautiful pre-established
order. And I hold that when God works miracles, he does not do it in order to supply
the wants of nature but those of grace. Whoever thinks otherwise must needs have a
very mean notion of the wisdom and power of God.
II. CLARKE'S FIRST REPLY
That there are some in England as well as in other countries who deny or very much
corrupt even natural religion itself is very true and much to be lamented. But (next to
the vicious affections of men) this is to be principally ascribed to the false philosophy
v; the materialists, to which the Mathematical Principles of Philosophy are the most
directly repugnant. That some make the souls of men, and others even God himself,
to be a corporeal being is also very true; but those who do so are the great enemies of
the Mathematical Principles of Philosophy, which principles, and which alone, prove
matter or body to be the smallest and most inconsiderable part of the universe.
That Mr. Locke doubted whether the soul was immaterial or no may justly be
suspected from some parts of his writings. But herein he has been followed only by
some materialists, enemies to the Mathematical Principles of Philosophy, and who
approve little or nothing in Mr. Locke's writings but his errors.
Sir Isaac Newton doth not say that space is the organ which God makes use of to
perceive things by, nor that he has need of any medium at all whereby to perceive
things; but on the contrary, that he, being omnipresent, perceives all things by his
immediate presence to them, in all space wherever they are, without the intervention
or assistance of any organ or medium whatsoever. In order to make this more in-
telligible, he illustrates it by a similitude: that as the mind of man, by its immediate
presence to the pictures or images of things formed in the brain by means of the organs
of sensations, sees these pictures as if they were the things themselves, so God sees all
things by his immediate presence to them, he being actually present to the things
themselves, to all things in the universe, as the mind of man is present to all the pictures
of things formed in his brain. Sir Isaac Newton considers the brain and organs of
sensation as the means by which those pictures are formed but not as the means by
which the mind sees or perceives those pictures when they are so formed. And in the
universe he doth not consider things as if they were pictures formed by certain means
or organs but as real things formed by God himself and seen by him in all places
wherever they are without the intervention of any medium at all. And this similitude
is all that he means when he supposes infinite space to be (as it were) the sensorium of
the omnipresent being. 3
The reason why, among men, an artificer is justly esteemed so much the more skilful,
as the machine of his composing will continue longer to move regularly without any
further interposition of the workman, is because the skill of all human artificers con-
sists only in composing, adjusting, or putting together certain movements, the prin-
ciples of whose motion are altogether independent upon the artificer. Such are weights
and springs and the like, whose forces are not made but only adjusted by the work-
man. But with regard to God the case is quite different, because he not only composes
or puts things together but is himself the author and continual preserver of their
original forces or moving powers. And consequently 'tis not a diminution but the true
glory of his workmanship that nothing is done without his continual government and
inspection. The notion of the world's being a great machine, going on without the
interposition of God as a clock continues to go without the assistance of a clockmaker,
is the notion of materialism and fate and tends (under pretense of making God a
supramundane intelligence) 4 to exclude providence and God's government in reality
out of the world. And by the same reason that a philosopher can represent all things
going on from the beginning of the creation without any government or interposition
of providence, a skeptic will easily argue still further backward and suppose that
things have from eternity gone on (as they now do) without any true creation or
original author at all but only what such arguers call all-wise and eternal nature. If a
king had a kingdom wherein all things would continually go on without his govern-
ment or interposition, or without his attending to and ordering what is done therein,
it would be to him merely a nominal kingdom, nor would he in reality deserve at all
the title of king or governor. And as those men who pretend that in an earthly govern-
ment things may go on perfectly well without the king himself ordering or disposing
of anything may reasonably be suspected that they would like very well to set the king
aside, so whosoever contends that the course of the world can go on without the con-
tinual direction of God, the supreme governor, his doctrine does in effect tend to
exclude God out of the world.
III. LEIBNIZ'S SECOND LETTER
1. It is rightly observed in the paper delivered to the Princess of Wales, which Her
Royal Highness has been pleased to communicate to me 5, that next to corruption of
manners, the principles of the materialists do very much contribute to keep up im-
piety. But I believe the author has no reason to add that the mathematical principles
of philosophy are opposite to those of the materialists. On the contrary, they are the
same, only with this difference - that the materialists, in imitation of Democritus, Epi-
curus, and Hobbes, confine themselves altogether to mathematical principles and
admit only bodies, whereas the Christian mathematicians admit also immaterial sub-
stances. Wherefore not mathematical principles (according to the usual sense of that
word) but metaphysical principles ought to be opposed to those of the materialists.
Pythagoras, Plato, and Aristotle in some measure had a knowledge of these principles,
but I pretend to have established them demonstratively in my Theodicy, though I have
done it in a popular manner. The great foundation of mathematics is the principle of
contradiction or identity, that is, that a proposition cannot be true and false at the same
time and that therefore A is A and cannot be non-A. This single principle is sufficient
to demonstrate every part of arithmetic and geometry, that is, all mathematical prin-
ciples. But in order to proceed from mathematics to natural philosophy, another
principle is requisite, as I have observed in my Theodicy; I mean the principle of a
sufficient reason, viz., that nothing happens without a reason why it should be so
rather than otherwise. And therefore Archimedes, being desirous to proceed from mathe-
matics to natural philosophy, in his book De aequilibrio, was obliged to make use of a
particular case of the great principle of a sufficient reason. He takes it for granted that
if there be a balance in which everything is alike on both sides, and if equal weights are
hung on the two ends of that balance, the whole will be at rest. 'Tis because no reason
can be given why one side should weigh down rather than the other. Now by that

single principle, viz., that there ought to be a sufficient reason why things should be
so and not otherwise, one may demonstrate the being of a God and all the other parts
of metaphysics or natural theology and even, in some measure, those principles of
natural philosophy that are independent upon mathematics; I mean the dynamic
principles or the principles offorce.
2. The author proceeds and says that according to the mathematical principles, that
is, according to Sir Isaac Newton's philosophy (for mathematical principles determine
nothing in the present case), matter is the most inconsiderable part of the universe.
The reason is because he admits empty space besides matter and because, according to
his notions, matter fills up a very small part of space. But Democritus and Epicurus
maintained the same thing; they differed from Sir Isaac Newton only as to the quantity
of matter, and perhaps they believed there was more matter in the world than Sir Isaac
Newton will allow; wherein I think their opinion ought to be preferred, for the more
matter there is, the more God has occasion to exercise his wisdom and power. Which
is one reason, among others, why I maintain that there is no vacuum at all.
3. I find, in express words in the Appendix to Sir Isaac Newton's Optics, that space
is the sensorium of God. But the word 'sensorium' hath always signified the organ of
sensation. He and his friends may now, if they think fit, explain themselves quite
otherwise; I shall not be against it.
4. The author supposes that the presence of the soul is sufficient to make it perceive
what passes in the brain. But this is the very thing which Father Malebranche and all
the Cartesians deny; and they rightly deny it. More is requisite besides bare presence to
enable one thing to perceive what passes in another. Some communication that may
be explained, some sort of influence, is requisite for this purpose. Space, according to
Sir Isaac Newton, is intimately present to the body contained in it and commensurate
with it. Does it follow from thence that space perceives what passes in a body and re-
members it when that body is gone away? Besides, the soul being indivisible, its imme-
diate presence, which may be imagined in the body, would only be in one point. How
then could it perceive what happens out of that point? I pretend to be the first who has
shown how the soul perceives what passes in the body.
5. The reason why God perceives everything is not his bare presence but also his
operation. 'Tis because he preserves things by an action which continually produces
whatever is good and perfect in them. But the soul having no immediate influence over
the body, nor the body over the soul, their mutual correspondence'cannot be explained
by their being present to each other.
6. The true and principal reason why we commend a machine is rather grounded
upon the effects of the machine than upon its cause. We don't inquire so much about
the power of the artist as we do about his skill in his workmanship. And therefore the
reason alleged by the author for extolling the machine of God's making, grounded
upon his having made it entirely, without wanting any materials to make it of - that
reason, I say, is not sufficient. 'Tis a mere shift the author has been forced to have
recourse to, and the reason why God exceeds any other artist is not only because he
makes the whole, whereas other artists must have matter to work upon. This excellency
in God would be only on the account of power. But God's excellency arises also from
another cause, viz., wisdom, whereby his machine lasts longer and moves more regularly
than those of any other artist whatsoever. He who buys a watch does not mind whether
the workman made every part of it himself, or whether he got the several parts made by
others and did only put them together - provided the watch goes right. And if the
workman had received from God even the gift of creating the matter of the wheels,
yet the buyer of the watch would not be satisfied unless the workman had also received
the gift of putting them well together. In like manner, he who will be pleased with God's
workmanship cannot be so without some other reason than that which the author has
here alleged.
7. Thus the skill of God must not be inferior to that of a workman; nay, it must go
infinitely beyond it. The bare production of everything would indeed show the power
of God, but it would not sufficiently show his wisdom. They who maintain the con-
trary will fall exactly into the error of the materialists and of Spinoza, from whom they
profess to differ. They would, in such case, acknowledge power, but not sufficient
wisdom, in the principle or cause of all things.
8. I do not say the material world is a machine or watch that goes without God's
interposition, and I have sufficiently insisted that the creation wants to be continually
influenced by its creator. 6 But I maintain it to be a watch that goes without wanting
to be mended by him; otherwise we must say that God bethinks himself again. No,
God has foreseen everything. He has provided a remedy for everything beforehand.
There is in his works a harmony, a beauty, already pre-established.
9. This opinion does not exclude God's providence or his government of the world;
on the contrary, it makes it perfect. A true providence of God requires a perfect fore-
sight. But then it requires, moreover, not only that he should have foreseen everything
but also that he should have provided for everything beforehand with proper remedies;
otherwise he must want either wisdom to foresee things or power to provide against
them. He will be like the God of the Socinians who lives from day to day, as Mr.
Jurieu says. Indeed, God, according to the Socinians, does not so much as foresee in-
conveniences, whereas the gentlemen I am arguing with, who put him upon mending
his work, say only that he does not provide against them. But this seems to me to be
still a very great imperfection. According to this doctrine, God must want either power
or good will.
10. I don't think I can be rightly blamed for saying that God is intelligentia su-
pramundana. Will they say that he is intelligentia mundana, that is, the soul of the world? 7
I hope not. However, they will do well to take care not to fall into that notion un-
awares.
11. The comparison of a king, under whose reign everything should go on without
his interposition, is by no means to the present purpose, since God preserves every-
thing continually and nothing can subsist without him. His kingdom therefore is not a
nominal one. 'Tis just as if one should say that a king who should originally have
taken care to have his subjects so well educated, and should, by his care in providing
for their substance, preserve them so well in their fitness for their several stations and
in their good affection toward him 8, as that he should have no occasion ever to be
amending anything among them, would be only a nominal king.
12. To conclude. If God is obliged to mend the course of nature from time to time,
it must be done either supernaturally or naturally. If it be done supernaturally, we
must have recourse to miracles in order to explain natural things, which is reducing a
hypothesis ad absurdum, for everything may easily be accounted for by miracles. But
if it be done naturally, then God will not be intelligentia supramundana; he will be
comprehended under the nature of things, that is, he will be the soul of the world.

IV. CLARKE'S SECOND REPLY
When I said that the MathematicalPrinciples o/Philosophy are opposite to those of the
materialists, the meaning was that, whereas materialists suppose the frame of nature
to be such as could have arisen from mere mechanical principles of matter and motion,
of necessity and fate, the Mathematical Principles 0/ Philosophy show on the contrary
that the state of things (the constitution of the sun and planets) is such as could not
arise from anything but an intelligent and free cause. As to the propriety of the name,
so far as metaphysical consequences follow demonstratively from mathematical prin-
ciples, so far the mathematical principles may (if it be thought fit) be called metaphy-
sical principles.
'Tis very true that nothing is without a sufficient reason why it is and why it is thus
rather than otherwise. And therefore, where there is no cause, there can be no effect.
But this sufficient reason is ofttimes no other than the mere will of God. For instance,
why this particular system of matter should be created in one particular place, when
(all place being absolutely indifferent to all matter) it would have been exactly the same
thing vice versa, supposing the two systems (or the particles) of matter to be alike; there
can be no other reason but the mere will of God. Which if it could in no case act with-
out a predetermining cause, any more than a balance can move without a preponderat-
ing weight 9 , this would tend to take away all power of choosing and to introduce
fatality.
2. Many ancient Greeks, who had their philosophy from the Phoenicians and whose
philosophy was corrupted by Epicurus, held indeed in general matter and vacuum, but
they knew not how to apply these principles by mathematics to the explication of the
phenomena of nature. How small soever the quantity of matter be, God has not all the
less subject to exercise his wisdom and power upon, for other things, as well as matter,
are equally subjects on which God exercises his power and wisdom. By the same ar-
gument it might just as well have been proved that men, or any other particular species
of beings, must be infinite in number, lest God should want subjects on which to
exercise his power and wisdom.
3. The word 'sensory' does not properly signify the organ but the place of sensation.
The eye, the ear, etc., are organs but not sensoria. Besides, Sir Isaac Newton does not
say that space is the sensory but that it is, by way of similitude only, as it were, the
sensory, etc.
4. It was never supposed that the presence of the soul was sufficient but only that it is
necessary in order to perception. Without being present to the images of the things
perceived, it could not possibly perceive them. But being present is not sufficient,
without it be also a living substance. Any inanimate substance, tho' present, perceives
nothing, and a living substance can only there perceive where it is present either to the
things themselves (as the omnipresent God is to the whole universe) or the images of
things (as the soul of man is in its proper sensory). Nothing can any more act or be
acted upon where it is not present than it can be where it is not. The soul's being
indivisible does not prove it to be present only in a mere point. Space, finite or infinite,
is absolutely indivisible, even so much as in thought (to imagine its parts moved from
each other is to imagine them moved out of themselves) 1 0, and yet space is not a mere
point.
5. God perceives things, not indeed by his simple presence to them, nor yet by his
operation upon them, but by his being a living and intelligent, as well as an omnipres-
ent, substance. The soul likewise (within its narrow sphere), not only by its simple
presence, but by its being a living substance, perceives the images to which it is present
and which, without being present to them, it could not perceive.
6 and 7. 'Tis very true that the excellency of God's workmanship does not consist
in its showing the power only but in its showing the wisdom also of its author. But
then this wisdom of God appears not in making nature (as an artificer makes a clock)
capable of going on without him (for that's impossible, there being no powers of nature
independent upon God, as the powers of weights and springs are independent upon
men). But the wisdom of God consists in framing originally the perfect and complete
idea of a work which began and continues according to that original perfect idea by
the continual uninterrupted exercise of his power and government.
8. The word 'correction' or 'amendment' is to be understood, not with regard to
God, but to us only. The present frame of the solar system, for instance, according to
the present laws of motion, will in time fall into confusion and perhaps, after that, will
be amended or put into a new form. But this amendment is only relative with regard
to our conceptions. In reality and with regard to God, the present frame, and the
consequent disorder, and the following renovation are all equally parts of the design
framed in God's original perfect idea. 'Tis in the frame of the world, as in the frame
of man's body; the wisdom of God does not consist in making the present frame of
either of them eternal but to last so long as he thought fit.
9. The wisdom and foresight of God do not consist in providing originally remedies
which shall of themselves cure the disorders of nature. For in truth and strictness, with
regard to God there are no disorders, and consequently no remedies, and, indeed, no
powers of nature at all, that can do anything of themselves (as weights and springs
work of themselves with regard to men). But the wisdom and foresight of God consist,
as has been said, in contriving at once what his power and government is continually
putting in actual execution.
10. God is neither a mundane intelligence nor a supramundane intelligence but an
omnipresent intelligence, both in and without the world. He is in all, and through all,
as well as above all.
11. If God's conserving all things means his actual operation and government
in preserving and continuing the beings, powers, orders, dispositions, and motions of
all things, this is all that is contended for. But if his conserving things means no more
than a king's creating such subjects as shall be able to act well enough without his
intermeddling or ordering anything among them ever after, this is making him, indeed,
a real creator, but a governor only nominal.
12. The argument of this paragraph supposes that whatsoever God does is super-
natural or miraculous, and consequently it tends to exclude all operation of God in the
governing and ordering of the natural world. But the truth is, natural and supernatural
are nothing at all different with regard to God but distinctions merely in our con-
ceptions of things. To cause the sun (or earth) to move regularly is a thing we call
natural; to stop its motion for a day, we call supernatural. But the one is the effect of
no greater power than the other, nor is the one, with respect to God, more or less
natural or supernatural than the other. God's being present in or to the world does
not make him to be the soul of the world. l l A soul is part of a compound whereof the
body is the other part, and they mutually affect each other as parts of the same whole.

But God is present in the world, not as a part, but as a governor, acting upon all
things, himself acted upon by nothing. He is not far from every one of us, for in him
we (and all things) live and move and have our beings.
v. MR. LEIBNIZ'S THIRD PAPER 12
1. According to the usual way of speaking, mathematical principles concern only mere
mathematics, viz., numbers, figures, arithmetic, geometry. But metaphysical principles
concern more general notions, such as are cause and eifect. 13
2. The author grants me this important principle, that nothing happens without a
sufficient reason why it should be so rather than otherwise. But he grants it only in
words and in reality denies it. Which shows that he does not fully perceive the strength
of it. And therefore he makes use of an instance which exactly falls in with one of my
demonstrations against real absolute space, which is an idol of some modern English-
men. I call it an idol, not in a theological sense, but in a philosophical one, as Chan-
ceIl or Bacon says that there are idola tribus, idola specus.
3. These gentlemen maintain, therefore, that space is a real absolute being. But this
involves them in great difficulties, for such a being must needs be eternal and infinite.
Hence some have believed it to be God himself, or one of his attributes, his immensity.
But since space consists of parts, it is not a thing which can belong to God.
4. As for my own opinion, I have said more than once that I hold space to be some-
thing merely relative, as time is: that I hold it to be an order of co-existences as time
is an order of successions. For space denotes, in terms of possibility, an order of things
which exist at the same time, considered as existing together, without inquiring into
their particular manner of existing. And when many things are seen together, one
perceives that order of things among themselves.
5. I have many demonstrations to confute the fancy of those who take space to be
a substance or at least an absolute being. But I shall only use, at the present, one
demonstration, which the author here gives me occasion to insist upon. I say, then,
that if space was an absolute being, there would something happen for which it would
be impossible there should be a sufficient reason. Which is against my axiom. And I
can prove it thus. Space is something absolutely uniform, and, without the things
placed in it, one point of space does not absolutely differ in any respect whatsoever
from another point of space. Now from hence it follows (supposing space to be some-
thing in itself, besides the order of bodies among themselves) that 'tis impossible there
should be a reason why God, preserving the same situations of bodies among them-
selves, should have placed them in space after one certain particular manner and not
otherwise; why everything was not placed the quite contrary way, for instance, by
changing east into west. But if space is nothing else but that order or relation, and is
nothing at all without bodies but the possibility of placing them, then those two states,
the one such as it now is, the other supposed to be the quite contrary way, would not
at all differ from one another. Their difference therefore is only to be found in our
chimerical supposition of the reality of space in itself. But in truth the one would
exactly be the same thing as the other, they being absolutely indiscernible, and con-
sequently there is no room to inquire after a reason of the preference of the one to
the other.
6. The case is the same with respect to time. Supposing anyone should ask why God
did not create everything a year sooner, and the same person should infer from thence
that God has done something concerning which 'tis not possible there should be a rea-
son why he did it so and not otherwise; the answer is that his inference would be right
if time was anything distinct from things existing in time. For it would be impossible
there should be any reason why things should be applied to such particular instants
rather than to others, their succession continuing the same. But then the same argument
proves that instants, considered without the things, are nothing at all and that they
consist only in the successive order of things, which order remaining the same, one of
the two states, viz., that of a supposed anticipation, would not at all differ, nor could
be discerned from the other which now is.
7. It appears from what I have said that my axiom has not been well understood
and that the author denies it though he seems to grant it. 'Tis true, says he, that there
is nothing without a sufficient reason why it is, and why it is thus rather than otherwise,
but he adds that this sufficient reason is often the simple or mere will of God - as when it
is asked why matter was not placed otherwise in space, the same situations of bodies
among themselves being preserved. But this is plainly maintaining that God wills
something without any sufficient reason for his will, against the axiom or the general
rule of whatever happens. This is falling back into the loose indifference which I have
confuted at large and showed to be absolutely chimerical even in creatures and con-
trary to the wisdom of God, as if he could operate without acting by reason.
8. The author objects against me that, if we don't admit this simple and mere will,
we take away from God the power of choosing and bring in a fatality. But the quite
contrary is true. I maintain that God has the power of choosing, since I ground that
power upon the reason of a choice agreeable to his wisdom. And 'tis not this fatality
(which is only the wisest order of providence) but a blind fatality or necessity void of
all wisdom and choice which we ought to avoid.
9. I had observed that by lessening the quantity of matter, the quantity of objects
upon which God may exercise his goodness will be lessened. The author answers that
instead of matter there are other things in the void space on which God may exercise
his goodness. Be it so, though I don't grant it, for I hold that every created substance
is attended with matter. However, let it be so; I answer that more matter was consist-
ent with those same things, and consequently the said objects will be still lessened. The
instance of a greater number of men or animals is not to the purpose, for they would
fill up place in exclusion of other things.
10. It will be difficult to make me believe that sensorium does not, in its usual
meaning, signify an organ of sensation. See the words of Rudolphus Goclenius in his
Dictionarium philosophicum under sensiterium. "Barbarum Scholasticorum", says he,
"qui interdum sunt simae Graecorum. Hi dicunt (UfJ'17:ljpIOV. Ex quo illi facerunt
sensiterium pro sensorio, id est, organo sensationis." 14
11. The mere presence of a substance, even an animated one, is not sufficient for
perception. A blind man, and even a man whose thoughts are wandering, does not see.
The author must explain how the soul perceives what is without itself.
12. God is not present to things by situation but by essence; his presence is manifest
by his immediate operation. The presence of the soul is quite of another nature. To
say that it is diffused all over the body is to make it extended and divisible. To say it
is, the whole of it, in every part of the body is to make it divided from itself. To fix
it to a point, to diffuse it all over many points, are only abusive expressions, idola tribus.

13. If active force should diminish in the universe by the natural laws which God
has established, so that there should be need for him to give a new impression in order
to restore that force, like an artist's mending the imperfections of his machine, the dis-
order would not only be with respect to us but also with respect to God himself. He
might have prevented it and taken better measures to avoid such an inconvenience, and
therefore, indeed, he has actually done it.
14. When I said that God has provided remedies beforehand against such disorders,
I did not say that God suffers disorders to happen and then finds remedies for them but
that he has found a way beforehand to prevent any disorders happening.
15. The author strives in vain to criticize my expression that God is intelligentia
supramundana. To say that God is above the world is not denying that he is in the world.
16. I never gave any occasion to doubt but that God's conservation is an actual
preservation and continuation of the beings, powers, orders, dispositions, and motions
of all things, and I think I have perhaps explained it better than many others. But,
says the author, this is all I contended for. To this I answer, your humble servant for
that, Sir. Our dispute consists in many other things. The question is whether God does
not act in the most regular and most perfect manner; whether his machine is liable to
disorder, which he is obliged to mend by extraordinary means; whether the will of
God can act without reason; whether space is an absolute being; also concerning the
nature of miracles; and many such things, which make a wide difference between us.
17. Divines will not grant the author's position against me, viz., that there is no
difference, with respect to God, between natural and supernatural; and it will be still
less approved by most philosophers. There is a vast difference between these two things,
but it plainly appears it has not been duly considered. That which is supernatural
exceeds all the powers of creatures. I shall give an instance which I have often made
use of with good success. If God would cause a body to move free in the ether round
about a certain fixed center, without any other creature acting upon it, I say it could not
be done without a miracle, since it cannot be explained by the nature of bodies. For
a free body does naturally recede from a curve in the tangent. And therefore I maintain
that the attraction of bodies, properly so called, is a miraculous thing, since it cannot
be explained by the nature of bodies.
VI. CLARKE'S THIRD REPLY
1. This relates only to the signification of words. The definitions here given may well
be allowed, and yet mathematical reasonings may be applied to physical and meta-
physical subjects.
2. Undoubtedly nothing is without a sufficient reason why it is rather than not and
why it is thus rather than otherwise. But in things in their own nature indifferent, mere
will without anything external to influence it is alone that sufficient reason, as in the
instance of God's creating or placing any particle of matter in one place rather than in
another, when all places are originally alike. And the case is the same even though
space were nothing real but only the mere order of bodies. For still it would be abso-
lutely indifferent, and there could be no other reason but mere will why three equal
particles should be placed or ranged in the order 1, 2, 3, rather than in the contrary
order.l ~ And therefore no argument can be drawn from this indifferency of all places
to prove that no space is real. For different spaces are really different or distinct one
from aQother, though they be perfectly alike. And there is this evident absurdity in
supposing space not to be real but to be merely the order of bodies - that, according
to that notion, if the earth and sun and moon had been placed where the remotest
fixed stars now are, provided they were placed in the same order and distance they now
are with regard one to another, it would not only have been (as this learned author
rightly says) fa meme chose, the same thing in effect, which is very true; but it would
also follow that they would then have been in the same place too as they are now,
which is an express contradiction.
The 16 ancients did not call all space which is void of bodies, but only extramundane
space, by the name of imaginary space. The meaning of which is not that such space
is not real but only that we are wholly ignorant what kinds of things are in that space.
Those writers who by the word 'imaginary' meant at any time to affirm that space was
not real did not thereby prove that it was not real.
3. Space is not a being, an eternal and infinite being, but a property, or the conse-
quence of the existence of a being infinite and eternal. Infinite space is immensity, but
immensity is not God, and therefore infinite space is not God. Nor is there any diffi-
culty in what is here alleged about space having parts. For infinite space is one, ab-
solutely and essentially indivisible. And to suppose it parted is a contradiction in terms,
because there must be space in the partition itself, which is to suppose it parted and
yet not parted at the same time. The immensity or omnipresence of God is no more a
dividing of his substance into parts than his duration or continuance of existing is a
dividing of his existence into parts.17 There is no difficulty here but what arises from
the figurative abuse of the word 'parts'.
4. If space was nothing but the order of things coexisting, it would follow that if
God should remove in a straight line the whole material world entire, with any swift-
ness whatsoever, yet it would always continue in the same place, and that nothing
would receive any shock upon the most sudden stopping of that motion. And if time was
nothing but the order of succession of created things, it would follow that if God had
created the world millions of ages sooner than he did, yet it would not have been
created at all the sooner. Further, space and time are quantities, which situation and
order are not.
5. The argument in this paragraph is that, because space is uniform or alike, and
one part does not differ from another, therefore the bodies created in one place, if they
had been created in another place (supposing them to keep the same situation with re-
gard to each other), would still have been created in the same place as before, which
is a manifest contradiction. The uniformity of space does indeed prove that there could
be no (external) reason why God should create things in one place rather than in an-
other. But does that hinder his own will from being to itself a sufficient reason of acting
in any place, when all places are indifferent or alike, and there be good reason to act
in some place?
6. The same reasoning takes place here as in the foregoing.
7 and 8. Where there is any difference in the nature of things, there the conside-
ration of that difference always determines an intelligent and perfectly wise agent. But
when two ways of acting are equally and alike good (as in the instances before mention-
ed), to affirm in such case that God cannot act at all, or that 'tis no perfection in him
to be able to act, because he can have no external reason to move him to act in one
way rather than the other, seems to be a denying God to have in himself any original

principle or power of beginning to act, but that he must needs (as it were mechanically)
be always determined by things extrinsic.
9. I suppose that determinate quantity of matter that is now in the world is the most
convenient for the present frame of nature, or the present state of things, and that a
greater (as well as a less) quantity of matter would have made the present frame of the
world less convenient and consequently would not have been a greater object for God
to have exercised his goodness upon.
10. The question is not what Goclenius, but what Sir Isaac Newton, means by the
word 'sensorium', when the debate is about the sense of Sir Isaac Newton's and not
about the sense of Goclenius' book. If Goclenius takes the eye or ear or any other organ
of sensation to be the sensorium, he is certainly mistaken. But when any writer expressly
explains what he means by any term of art, of what use is it, in this case, to inquire in
what different senses perhaps some other writers have sometimes used the same word?
Scapula explains it by domicilium, the place where the mind resides.
11. The soul of a blind man does for this reason not see, because no images are
conveyed (there being some obstruction in the way) to the sensorium where the soul
is present. How the soul of a seeing man sees the images to which it is present, we
know not. But we are sure it cannot perceive what it is not present to, because nothing
can act or be acted upon where it is not.
12. God, being omnipresent, is really present to everything, essentially and sub-
stantially.18 His presence manifests itself indeed by its operation, but it could not
operate if it was not there. The soul is not omnipresent to every part of the body and
therefore does not and cannot itself actually operate upon every part of the body but
only upon the brain or certain nerves and spirits, which, by laws and communications
of God's appointing, influence the whole body.
13 and 14. The active forces 19 which are in the universe diminishing themselves so
as to stand in need of new impressions is no inconvenience, no disorder, no imperfection
in the workmanship of the universe, but is the consequence of the nature of dependent
things. Which dependency of things is not a matter that wants to be rectified. The
case of a human workman making a machine is quite another thing, because the
powers or forces by which the machine continues to move are altogether independent
on the artificer.
15. The phrase intelligentia supramundana may well be allowed as it is here explained.
But, without this explication, the expression is very apt to lead to a wrong notion, as
if God was not really and substantially present everywhere.
16. To the questions here proposed, the answer is that God does always act in the
most regular and perfect manner, that there are no disorders in the workmanship of
God, and that there is nothing more extraordinary in the alterations he is pleased to
make in the frame of things than in his continuation of it; that in things in their own
nature absolutely equal and indifferent the will of God can freely choose and de-
termine itself without any external cause to impel it, and that 'tis a perfection in God
to be able to do so; that space does not at all depend on the existence or order or
situation of bodies. And as to the notion of miracles:
17. The question is not what [it] is that divines or philosophers usually allow or not
allow but what reasons men allege for their opinions. If a miracle be that only which
surpasses the power of all created beings, then for a man to walk on the water, or for
the motion of the sun or the earth to be stopped, is no miracle, since none of these
things r,equire infinite power to effect them. For a body to move in a circle round a
center in vacuo, if it be usual (as the planets moving about the sun), 'tis no miracle,
whether it be effected immediately by God himself or mediately by any created power.
But if it be unusual (as for a heavy body to be suspended and move so in the air), 'tis
equally a miracle, whether it be effected immediately by God himself or mediately by
any invisible created power. Lastly, if whatever arises not from, and is not explicable
by, the natural powers of body be a miracle, then every animal motion whatsoever is a
miracle. Which seems demonstrably to show that this learned author's notion of a miracle
is erroneous.
VII. LEIBNIZ'S FOURTH LETTER
1. In things absolutely indifferent there is no (foundation for) choice, and consequently

no election or will, since choice must be founded on some reason or principle.
2. A mere will without any motive is a fiction, not only contrary to God's perfection
but also chimerical and contradictory, inconsistent with the definition of the will, and
sufficiently confuted in my Theodicy.
3. 'Tis a thing indifferent to place three bodies, equal and perfectly alike, in any
order whatsoever, and consequently they will never be placed in any order by him who
does nothing without wisdom. But then, he being the author of things, no such things
will be produced by him at all, and consequently there are no such things in nature.
4. There is no such thing as two individuals indiscernible from each other. An in-
genious gentleman of my acquaintance, discoursing with me in the presence of Her
Electoral Highness, the Princess Sophia, in the garden of Herrenhausen, thought he
could find two leaves perfectly alike. The princess defied him to do it, and he ran all
over the garden a long time to look for some; but it was to no purpose. Two drops of
water or milk, viewed with a microscope, will appear distinguishable from each other.
This is an argument against atoms, which are confuted, as well as a vacuum, by the
principles of true metaphysics.
5. These great principles of sufficient reason and of the identity of indiscernibles
change the state of metaphysics. That science becomes real and demonstrative by
means of these principles, whereas before it did generally consist in empty words.
6. To suppose two things indiscernible is to suppose the same thing under two
names. And therefore to suppose that the universe could have had at first another
position of time and place than that which it actually had, and yet that all the parts of
the universe should have had the same situation among themselves as that which they
actually had - such a supposition, I say, is an impossible fiction.
7. The same reason which shows that extramundane space is imaginary proves that
all empty space is an imaginary thing, for they differ only as greater and less.
8. If space is a property or attribute, it must be the property of some substance. But
what substance will that bounded empty space be an affection or property of, which
the persons I am arguing with suppose to be between two bodies?
9. If infinite space is immensity, finite space will be the opposite to immensity, that
is, 'twill be mensurability, or limited extension. Now extension must be the affection
of something extended. But if that space be empty, it will be an attribute without a
subject, an extension without anything extended. Wherefore, by making space a prop-
erty, the author falls in with my opinion, which makes it an order of things and not
anything absolute.

10. If space is an absolute reality, far from being a property or an accident opposed
to substance, it will have a greater reality than substances themselves. God cannot
destroy it, nor even change it in any respect. It will be not only immense in the whole
but also immutable and eternal in every part. There will be an infinite number of
eternal things besides God.
11. To say that infinite space has no parts is to say that it does not consist of finite
spaces and that infinite space might subsist though all finite space should be reduced
to nothing. It would be as if one should say, in the Cartesian supposition of a material
extended unlimited world, that such a world might subsist, though all the bodies of
which it consists should be reduced to nothing.
12. The author attributes parts to space, on page 9 of the third edition of his
Defense of the Argument against Mr. Dodwell, and makes them inseparable one from
another. But on page 30 of his Second Defense he says they are parts improperly so
called - which may be understood in a good sense.
13. To say that God can cause the whole universe to move forward in a right line
or in any other line, without making otherwise any alteration in it, is another chimerical
supposition. For two states indiscernible from each other are the same state, and con-
sequently 'tis a change without any change. Besides, there is neither rhyme nor reason
in it. But God does nothing without reason, and 'tis impossible that there should be
any here. Besides, it would be agendo nihil agere, as I have just now said, because of the
indiscernibility.
14. These are idola tribus, mere chimeras, and superficial imaginations. All this is
only grounded upon the supposition that imaginary space is real.
15. It is a like fiction (that is), an impossible one, to suppose that God might have
created the world some millions of years sooner. They who run into such kind offictions
can give no answer to one that should argue for the eternity of the world. For since God
does nothing without reason, and no reason can be given why he did not create the
world sooner, it will follow either that he has created nothing at all or that he created
the world before any assignable time, that is, that the world is eternal. But when once it
has been shown that the beginning, whenever it was, is always the same thing, the
question why it was not otherwise ordered becomes needless and insignificant.
16. If space and time were anything absolute, that is, if they were anything else besides
certain orders of things, then indeed my assertion would be a contradiction. But since
it is not so, the hypothesis (that space and time are anything absolute) is contradictory,
that is, 'tis an impossible fiction.
17. And the case is the same as in geometry, where by the very supposition that a
figure is greater than it really is, we sometimes prove that it is not greater. This indeed
is a contradiction, but it lies in the hypothesis, which appears to be false for that very
reason.
18. Space being uniform, there can be neither any external nor internal reason by
which to distinguish its parts and to make any choice among them. For any external
reason to discern between them can only be grounded upon some internal one. Other-
wise we should discern what is indiscernible or choose without discerning. A will
without reason would be the chance of the Epicureans. A God who should act by such
a will would be a God only in name. The cause of these errors proceeds from want of
care to avoid what derogates from the divine perfections.
19. When two things which cannot both be together are equally good, and neither
in themselves nor by their combination with other things has one the advantage over
the other, God will produce neither of them.
20. God is never determined by external things but always by what is in himself,
that is, by his knowledge of things before anything exists without himself.
21. There is no possible reason that can limit the quantity of matter, and therefore
such limitation can have no place.
22. And supposing an arbitrary limitation of the quantity of matter, one could
always add something without detracting from the perfection of the things which are
already there, and consequently something must always be added in order to act
according to the principle of the perfection of the divine operations.
23. And therefore it cannot be said that the present quantity of matter is the fittest
for the present constitution of things. And supposing it were, it would follow that this
present constitution of things would not be the fittest absolutely if it hinders God from
using more matter. It were therefore better to choose another constitution of things,
capable of something more.
24. I should be glad to see a passage of any philosopher who takes sensorium in any
other sense than Goc1enius does. 20
25. If Scapula says that sensorium is the place in which the understanding resides, he
means by it the organ of internal sensation. And therefore he does not differ from
Goc1enius.
26. Sensorium has always signified the organ of sensation. The pineal gland would
be, according to Descartes, the sensorium in the above-mentioned sense of Scapula.
27. There is hardly any expression less proper upon this subject than that which
makes God to have a sensorium. It seems to make God the soul of the world. And it
will be a hard matter to put a justifiable sense upon this word, according to the use
Sir Isaac Newton makes of it.
28. Though the question be about the sense put upon that word by Sir Isaac New-
ton, and not by Goc1enius, yet I am not to blame for quoting the philosophical diction-
ary of that author, because the design of dictionaries is to show the use of words.
29. God perceives things in himself. Space is the place of things and not the place
of God's ideas, unless we look upon space as something that makes a union between
God and things in imitation of the imagined union between the soul and the body,
which would still make God the soul of the world.
30. And indeed the author is much in the wrong when he compares God's knowledge
and operation with the knowledge and operation of souls. The soul knows things
because God has put into it a principle representative of things without. But God
knows things because he produces them continually.
31. The soul does not act upon things, according to my opinion, any otherwise than
because the body adapts itself to the desires of the soul, by virtue of the harmony
which God has pre-established between them.
32. But they who fancy that the soul can give a new force to the body, and that God
does the same in the world in order to mend the imperfections of his machine, make
God too much like the soul by ascribing too much to the soul and too little to God.
33. For none but God can give a new force to nature, and he does it only super-
naturally. If there was need for him to do it in the natural course of things, he would
have made a very imperfect work. At that rate, he would be with respect to the world
what the soul, in the vulgar notion, is with respect to the body.

34. Those who undertake to defend the vulgar opinion concerning the soul's influence
over the body, by instancing in God's operating on things external, make God still
too much like a soul of the world. To which I add that the author's affecting to find
fault with the words intelligentia supramundana seems also to incline that way.
35. The images with which the soul is immediately affected are within itself, but they
correspond to those of the body. The presence of the soul is imperfect and can only be
explained by that correspondence. But the presence of God is perfect and manifested
by his operation.
36. The author wrongly supposes against me that the presence of the soul is connect-
ed with its influence over the body, for he knows I reject that influence.
37. The soul's being diffused through the brain is no less inexplicable than its being
diffused through the whole boc!y. The difference is only in more and less.
38. They who fancy that active force lessens of itself in the world do not well
understand the principal laws of nature and the beauty of the works of God.
39. How will they be able to prove that this defect is a consequence of the dependence
of things?
40. The imperfection of our machines, which is the reason why they want to be
mended, proceeds from this very thing, that they do not sufficiently depend upon the
workman. And therefore the dependence of nature upon God, far from being the
cause of such an imperfection, is rather the reason why there is no such imperfection in
nature, because it depends so much upon an artist who is too perfect to make a work that
wants to be mended. 'Tis true that every particular machine of nature is in some measure
liable to be disordered, but not the entire universe, which cannot diminish in perfection.
41. The author contends that space does not depend upon the situation of bodies. I
answer: 'Tis true, it does not depend upon such or such a situation of bodies, but it
is that order which renders bodies capable of being situated, and by which they have a
situation among themselves when they exist together, as time is that order with respect
to their successive position. But if there were no creatures, space and time would be
only in the ideas of God.
42. The author seems to acknowledge here that his notion of a miracle is not the
same with that which divines and philosophers usually have. It is therefore sufficient
for my purpose that my adversaries are obliged to have recourse to what is commonly
called a miracle. 21
43. I am afraid the author, by altering the sense commonly put upon the word 'mira-
cle', will fall into an inconvenient opinion. The nature of a miracle does not at all
consist in usefulness or unusefulness, for then monsters would be miracles.
44. There are miracles of an inferior sort which an angel can work. He can, for
instance, make a man walk upon the water without sinking. But there are miracles
which none but God can work, they exceeding all natural powers. Of which kind are
creating and annihilating.
45. 'Tis also a supernatural thing that bodies should attract one another at a distance
without any intermediate means and that a body should move around without receding
in the tangent, though nothing hinder it from so receding. For these effects cannot be
explained by the nature of things.
46. Why should it be impossible to explain the motion of animals by natural
forces? Though, indeed, the beginning of animals is no less inexplicable by natural
forces than the beginning of the world.
P.S. All those who maintain a vacuum are more influenced by imagination than by
reason. When I was a young man, I also gave in to the notion of a vacuum and atoms,
but reason brought me into the right way. It was a pleasing imagination. Men carry
their inquiries no further than those two things: they (as it were) nail down their
thoughts to them; they fancy they have found out the first elements of things, a non
plus ultra. We would have nature to go no further and to be finite as our minds are;
but this is being ignorant of the greatness and majesty of the author of things. The
least corpuscle is actually subdivided in infinitum and contains a world of other
creatures which would be wanting in the universe if that corpuscle was an atom, that
is, a body of one entire piece without subdivision. In like manner, to admit a vacuum
in nature is ascribing to God a very imperfect work; 'tis violating the grand principle
of the necessity of a sufficient reason, which many have talked of without understanding
its true meaning; as I have lately shown in proving, by that principle, that space is
only an order of things, as time also is, and not at all an absolute being. To omit many
other arguments against a vacuum and atoms, I shall here mention those which I
ground upon God's perfection and upon the necessity of a sufficient reason. I lay it
down as a principle that every perfection which God could impart to things without
derogating from their other perfections has actually been imparted to them. Now let
us fancy a space wholly empty. God could have placed some matter in it without
derogating in any respect from all other things; therefore he hath actually placed some
matter in that space; therefore there is no space wholly empty; therefore all is full. The
same argument proves that there is no corpuscle but what is subdivided. I shall add
another argument grounded upon the necessity of a sufficient reason. 'Tis impossible
there should be any principle to determine what proportion of matter there ought to
be, out of all the possible degrees from a plenum to a vacuum, or from a vacuum to
a plenum. Perhaps it will be said that the one should be equal to the other, but, because
matter is more perfect than a vacuum, reason requires that a geometrical proportion
should be observed and that there should be as much more matter than vacuum, as the
former deserves to have the preference before the latter. But then there must be no
vacuum at all, for the perfection of matter is to that of a vacuum as something to
nothing. And the case is the same with atoms: What reason can anyone assign for
confining nature in the progression of subdivision? These are fictions merely arbitrary
and unworthy of true philosophy. The reasons alleged for a vacuum are mere sophisms.
VIII. CLARKE'S FOURTH REPLY
1 and 2. This notion leads to universal necessity and fate, by supposing that motives
have the same relation to the will of an intelligent agent as weights have to a balance,
so that, of two things absolutely indifferent, an intelligent agent can no more choose
either than a balance can move itself when the weights on both sides are equal. But the
difference lies here. A balance is no agent but is merely passive and acted upon by the
weights, so that, when the weights are equal, there is nothing to move it. But intelligent
beings are agents - not passive, in being moved by motives as a balance is by weights,
but they have active powers and do move themselves, sometimes upon the view of
strong motives, sometimes upon weak ones, and sometimes where things are absolu-
tely indifferent. In which latter case, there may be very good reason to act, though two
or more ways of acting may be absolutely indifferent. This learned writer always

supposes the contrary as a principle but gives no proof of it either from the nature of
things or the perfections of God.
3 and 4. This argument, if it was true, would prove that God neither has created
nor can possibly create any matter at all. For the perfectly solid parts of all matter, if
you take them of equal figure and dimensions (which is always possible in supposition),
are exactly alike, and therefore it would be perfectly indifferent if they were transposed
in place; and consequently it was impossible (according to this learned author's
argument) for God to place them in those places wherein he did actually place them at
the creation, because he might as easily have transposed their situation. 'Tis very true
that no two leaves, and perhaps no two drops of water, are exactly alike, because they
are bodies very much compounded. But the case is very different in the parts of simple
solid matter. And even in compounds, there is no impossibility for God to make
two drops of water exactly alike. And if he should make them exactly alike, yet they
would never the more become one and the same drop of water because they were alike.
Nor would the place of the one be the place of the other, though it was absolutely
indifferent which was placed in which place. The same reasoning holds likewise
concerning the original determination of motion, this way or the contrary way.
Sand 6. Two things by being exactly alike do not cease to be two. The parts of time
are as exactly alike to each other as those of space; yet two points of time are not the
same point of time, nor are they two names of only the same point of time. Had God
created the world but this moment, it would not have been created at the time it was
created. And if God has made (or can make) matter finite in dimensions, the material
universe must consequently be by its nature movable, for nothing that is finite is
immovable. To say therefore that God could not have altered the time or place of the
existence of matter is making (this) to be necessarily infinite and eternal and reducing
all things to necessity and fate.
7. Extramundane space (if the material world be finite in its dimensions) is not
imaginary but real. Nor are void spaces in the world merely imaginary. In an exhausted
receiver, though rays of light, and perhaps some other matter, be there in exceeding
small quantity, yet the want of resistance plainly shows that the greatest part of that
space is void of matter. For subtleness or fineness of matter cannot be the cause of
want of resistance. Quicksilver is as subtle and consists of as fine parts and as fluid as
water and yet makes more than ten times the resistance, which resistance arises there-
fore from the quantity and not from the grossness of the matter.
8. Space void of body is the property of an incorporeal substance. Space is not
bounded by bodies but exists equally within and without bodies. Space is not inclosed
between bodies, but bodies, existing in unbounded space, are themselves only terminated
by their own dimensions.
9. Void space is not an attribute without a subject, because by void space we never
mean space void of everything but void of body only. In all void space God is certainly
present, and possibly many other substances which are not matter, being neither
tangible nor objects of any of our senses.
10. Space is not a substance but a property. And if it be a property of that which is
necessary, it will consequently (as all other properties of that which is necessary must
do) exist more necessarily (though it be not itself a substance) than those substances
themselves which are not necessary. Space is immense and immutable and eternal,
and so also is duration. Yet it does not at all from hence follow that anything is eternal
hors de dieu. For space and duration are not hors de dieu but are caused by and are
immediate and necessary consequences of his existence. And without them his eternity
and ubiquity (or omnispresence) would be taken away.zz
11 and 12. Infinites are composed of finites in no other sense than as finites are com-
posed of infinitesimals. In what sense space has or has not parts has been explained
before (Paper 3, Sec. 3). Parts in the corporeal sense of the word are separable, com-
pounded, ununited, independent on and movable from each other. But infinite space,
though it may by us be partially apprehended, that is, may in our imagination be
conceived as composed of parts, yet those parts (improperly so called) being essentially
indiscernible and immovable from each other, and not partable without an express
contradiction in terms (see above, Paper 3, Sec. 3), space consequently is in itself es-
sentially one and absolutely indivisible.
13. If the world be finite in dimensions, it is movable by the power of God, and there-
fore my argument drawn from that movableness is conclusive. Two places, though exact-
ly alike, are not the same place. Nor is the motion or rest of the universe the same
state, any more than the motion or rest of a ship is the same state, because a man shut
up in the cabin cannot perceive whether the ship sails or not, so long as it moves
uniformly. The motion of the ship, though the man perceives it not, is a real different
state and has real different effects and upon a sudden stop would have other real effects;
and so likewise would an indiscernible motion of the universe. To this argument no
answer has ever been given. It is largely insisted on by Sir Isaac Newton in his Mathe-
matical Principles, Definition 8, where, from the consideration of the properties,
causes, and effects of motion, he shows the difference between real motion, or a body's
being carried from one part of space to another, and relative motion, which is merely a
change of the order or situation of bodies with respect to each other. This argument is
a mathematical one, showing from real effects that there may be real motion where
there is relative, and relative motion where there is none real, and is not to be answered
by barely asserting the contrary.
14. The reality of space is not a supposition but is proved by the foregoing arguments,
to which no answer has been given. Nor is any answer given to that other argument,
that space and time are quantities, which situation and order are not.
15. It was no impossibility for God to make the world sooner or later than he did,
nor is it all impossible for him to destroy it sooner or later than it shall actually be
destroyed. As to the notion of the world's eternity, they who suppose matter and space
to be the same must indeed suppose the world to be not only infinite and eternal but
necessarily so; even as necessarily as space and duration, which depend not on the wiIl
but on the existence of God. But they who believe that God created matter in what
quantity, and at what particular time, and in what particular spaces he pleased are
here under no difficulty. For the wisdom of God may have very good reasons for
creating this world at that particular time he did and may have made other kinds of
things before this material world began and may make other kinds of things after this
world is destroyed.
16 and 17. That space and time are not the mere order of things but real quantities
(which order and situation are not) has been proved above (see Paper 3, Sec. 4, and in
this paper, Sec. 13), and no answer yet given to those proofs. And tiIl an answer be
given to those proofs, this learned author's assertion is (by his own confession in this
place) a contradiction.

18. The uniformity of all the parts of space is no argument against God's acting in
any part after what manner he pleases. God may have good reasons to create finite
beings, and finite beings can be put in particular places. And, all things being originally
alike, even though place were nothing else but the situation of bodies, God's placing
one cube of matter behind another equal cube of matter rather than the other behind
that is a choice in no wise unworthy of the perfections of God, though both these
situations be perfectly equal, because there may be very good reasons why both the cubes
should exist, and they cannot exist but in one or other of equally reasonable situations.
The Epicurean chance is not a choice of will but a blind necessity of fate.
19. This argument (as I now observed, Sec. 3), if it proves anything, proves that
God neither did nor can create any matter at all, because the situation of equal and
similar parts of matter could not but be originally indifferent, as was also the original
detennination of their motions, this way or the contrary way.
20. What this tends to prove with regard to the argument before us, I understand
not.
21. That God cannot limit the quantity of matter is an assertion of too great con-
sequence to be admitted without proof. If he cannot limit the duration of it neither,
then the material world is both infinite and eternal, necessarily and independently
upon God.
22 and 23. This argument (if it were good) would prove that whatever God can do
he cannot but do, and consequently that he cannot but make everything infinite and
everything eternal. Which is making him no governor at all but a merely necessary
agent, that is, indeed, no agent at all but mere fate and nature and necessity.
24-28. Concerning the use of the word 'sensory' (though Sir Isaac Newton says
only "as it were the sensory"), enough has been said in my third paper, Section 10, and
second paper, Section 3, and first paper, Section 3.
29. Space is the place of all things and of all ideas, just as duration is the duration of
all things and of all ideas. That this has no tendency to make God the soul of the world,
see above in Paper 2, Section 12. There is no union between God and the world. The
mind of man might with greater propriety be styled the soul of the images of things
which it perceives than God can be styled the soul of the world, to which he is present
throughout and acts upon it as he pleases, without being acted upon by it. Though this
answer was given before (Paper 2, Sec. 12), yet the same objection is repeated again and
again, without taking any notice of the answer.
30. What is meant by "a representative principle", I understand not. The soul
discerns things by having the images of things conveyed to it through the organs of
sense; God discerns things by being present to and in the substances of the things
themselves. Not by producing them continually (for he rests now from his work of
creation) but by being continually omnipresent to everything which he created at the
beginning.
31. That the soul should not operate upon the body, and yet the body, by a mere
mechanical impulse of matter, conform itself to the will of the soul in all the infinite
variety of spontaneous animal motion, is a perpetual miracle. Pre-established harmony
is a mere word or term of art and does nothing toward explaining the cause of so
miraculous an effect.
32. To suppose that in spontaneous animal motion the soul gives no new motion or
impression to matter but that all spontaneous animal motion is performed by me-
chanical impulse of matter is reducing all things to mere fate and necessity. God's act-
ing in the world upon everything after what manner he pleases, without any union and
without being acted upon by anything, shows plainly the difference between an omni-
present governor and an imaginary soul of the world.
33. Every action is (in the nature of things) the giving of a new force to the thing
acted upon. Otherwise 'tis not really action but mere passiveness, as in the case of all
mechanical and inanimate communications of motion. If therefore the giving a new
force be supernatural, then every action of God is supernatural, and he is quite ex-
cluded from the government of the natural world. And either every action of man is
supernatural or else man is as mere a machine as a clock.
34 and 35. The difference between the true notion of God and that of a soul of the
world has been before shown: Paper 2, Section 12, and in this paper, Sections 29 and 32.
36. This has been answered just above, Section 31.
37. The soul is not diffused through the brain but is present to that particular place,
which is the sensorium.
38. This is a bare assertion without proof. Two bodies void of elasticity meeting
together with equal contrary forces both lose their motion. And Sir Isaac Newton has
given a mathematical instance (p. 341 of the Latin edition of his Optics) wherein
motion is continually diminishing and increasing in quantity, without any communi-
cation thereof to other bodies. 23
39. This is no defect as is here supposed, but 'tis the just and proper nature of inert
matter.
40. This argument (if it be good) proves that the material world must be infinite and
that it must have been from eternity and must continue to eternity; and that God must
always have created as many men and as many of all other things as 'twas possible for
him to create and for as long a time also as it was possible for him to do it.
41. What the meaning of these words is: "an order (or situation) which renders
bodies capable of being situated", I understand not. It seems to me to amount to this
- that situation is the cause of situation. That space is not merely the order of bodies
has been shown before, Paper 3, Sections 2 and 4. And that no answer has been given
to the argument there offered has been shown in this paper, Sections 13 and 14. Also
that time is not merely the order of things succeeding each other is evident because the
quantity of time may be greater or less, and yet that order continue the same. The order
of things succeeding each other in time is not time itself, for they may succeed each
other faster or slower in the same order of succession but not in the same time. If no
creatures existed, yet the ubiquity of God and the continuance of his existence would
make space and duration to be exactly the same as they are now.
42. This is appealing from reason to vulgar opinion, which philosophers should not
do, because it is not the rule of truth.
43. Unusualness is necessarily included in the notion of a miracle. For otherwise
there is nothing more wonderful, nor that requires greater power to effect, than some
of those things we call natural, such as the motions of the heavenly bodies, the gene-
ration and formation of plants and animals, etc. Yet these are for this only reason not
miracles, because they are common. Nevertheless, it does not follow that everything
which is unusual is therefore a miracle. For it may be only the irregular and more rare
effect of usual causes, of which kind are eclipses, monstrous births, madness in men,
and innumerable things which the vulgar call prodigies.

44. This is a concession of what I alleged. And yet 'tis contrary to the common
opinion of divines to suppose that an angel can work a miracle.
45. That one body should attract another sans aucun moyen is indeed not a miracle
but a contradiction. For 'tis supposing something to act where it is not. But the moyen
by which two bodies attract each other may be invisible and intangible, and of a dif-
ferent nature from mechanism, and yet, acting regularly and constantly, may well be
called natural, being much less wonderful than animal motion, which yet is never
called a miracle.
46. If the word 'natural forces' means here mechanical, then all animals, and even
men, are as mere machines as a clock. But if the word does mean not mechanical
forces, then gravitation may be effected by regular and natural powers, though they
be not mechanical. 24
IX. LEIBNIZ'S FIFTH PAPER
To Sections 1 and 2 ofthe Preceding Paper:

1. I shall at this time make a larger answer to clear the difficulties and to try whether
the author be willing to hearken to reason and to show that he is a lover of truth, or
whether he will only cavil without clearing anything.
2. He often endeavors to impute to me necessity and fatality, though perhaps no
one had better and more fully explained than I have done in my Theodicy the true
difference between liberty, contingency, spontaneity, on the one side, and absolute
necessity, chance, coaction, on the other. 25 I know not yet whether the author does
this because he will do it, whatever I may say, or whether he does it (supposing him
sincere in those imputations) because he has not yet duly considered my opinions. I
shall soon find what I am to think of it, and I shall take my measures accordingly.
3. It is true that reason in the mind of a wise being, and motives in any mind whatso-
ever, do that which answers to the effect produced by weights in a balance. The author
objects that this notion leads to necessity and fatality. But he says so without proving
it and without taking notice of the explications I have formerly given in order to remove
the difficulties that may be raised upon that head.
4. He seems also to play with equivocal terms. There are necessities which ought to
be admitted. For we must distinguish between an absolute and a hypothetical ne-
cessity. We must also distinguish between a necessity which takes place because the
opposite implies a contradiction (which necessity is called logical, metaphysical, or
mathematical) and a necessity which is moral, whereby a wise being chooses the best,
and every mind follows the strongest inclination.
5. Hypothetical necessity is that which the supposition or hypotbesis of God's
foresight and preordination lays upon future contingents. And this must needs be
admitted, unless we deny, as the Socinians do, God's foreknowledge of future con-
tingents and his providence which regulates and governs every particular thing.
6. But neither that foreknowledge nor that preordination derogate from liberty.
For God, being moved by his supreme reason to choose, among many series of things
or worlds possible, that in which free creatures should take such or such resolutions,
though not without his concourse, has thereby rendered every event certain and de-
termined once for all, without derogating thereby from the liberty of those creatures
that simple decree of choice, not at all changing but only actualizing their free natures
which he saw in his ideas. 26
7. As for moral necessity, this also does not derogate from liberty. For when a wise
being, and especially God who has supreme wisdom, chooses what is best, he is not the
less free upon that account; on the contrary, it is the most perfect liberty not to be
hindered from acting in the best manner. And when any other chooses according to the
most apparent and the most strongly inclining good, he imitates therein the liberty of a
truly wise being, in proportion to his disposition. Without this, the choice would be
a blind chance.
8. But good, either true or apparent - in a word, the motive - inclines without
necessitating, that is, without imposing an absolute necessity. For when God (for
instance) chooses the best, what he does not choose, and is inferior in perfection, is
nevertheless possible. But if what he chooses was absolutely necessary, any other way
would be impossible, which is against the hypothesis. For God chooses among pos-
sibles, that is, among many ways none of which implies a contradiction.
9. But to say that God can only choose what is best, and to infer from thence that
what he does not choose is impossible, this, J say, is confounding of terms; 'tis blending
power and will, metaphysical necessity and moral necessity, essences and existences.
For what is necessary is so by its essence, since the opposite implies a contradiction.
But a contingent which exists owes its existence to the principle of what is best, which
is a sufficient reason for the existence of things. And therefore I say that motives in-
cline without necessitating and that there is a certainty and infallibility but not an
absolute necessity in contingent things. Add to this what will be said hereafter, in Nos.
73 and 76.
10. And I have sufficiently shown in my Theodicy that this moral necessity is a good
thing, agreeable to the divine perfection, agreeable to the great principle or ground of
existences, which is that of the want of a sufficient reason, whereas absolute and meta-
physical necessity depends upon the other great principle of our reasonings, viz., that
of essences, that is, the principle of identity or contradiction. For what is absolutely
necessary is the only possible way, and its contrary implies a contradiction.
11. I have also shown that our will does not always exactly follow the practical
understanding, because it may have or find reasons to suspend its resolution till a
further examination. 27
12. To impute to me after this the notion of an absolute necessity, without having
anything to say against the reasons which I have just now alleged and which go to the
bottom of things, perhaps beyond what is to be seen elsewhere - this, I say, will be an
unreasonable obstinacy.
13. As to the notion of fatality which the author lays also to my charge, this is
another ambiguity. There is a fatum Mahometanum, a fatum Stoicum, and a fatum
Christianum. 28 The Turkish fate will have an effect to happen even though its cause
should be avoided, as if there was an absolute necessity. The Stoical fate will have a
man to be quiet because he must have patience whether he will or not, since 'tis im-
possible to resist the course of things. But 'tis agreed that there is a fatum Christianum,
a certain destiny of everything, regulated by the foreknowledge and providence of
God. Fatum is derived from fari, that is, 'to pronounce', 'to decree', and in its right
sense it signifies the decree of providence. And those who submit to it through a
knowledge of the divine perfections, whereof the love of God is a consequence, have
not only patience, like the heathen philosophers, but are also contented with what
is ordained by God, knowing he does everything for the best and not only for the

greatest good in general but also for the greatest particular good of those who love
him.
14. I have been obliged to enlarge in order to remove ill-grounded imputations
once for all, as I hope I shall be able to do by these explications, so as to satisfy equit-
able persons. I shall now come to an objection raised here against my comparing the
weights of a balance with the motives of the will. 'Tis objected that a balance is merely
passive and moved by the weights, whereas agents intelligent, and endowed with will,
are active. To this I answer that the principle of the want of a sufficient reason is com-
mon to both agents and patients - they want a sufficient reason of their action as well as
of their passion. A balance not only does not act when it is equally pulled on bot
sides, but the equal weights likewise do not act when they are in an equilibrium, so that
one of them cannot go down without the other's rising up as much.
15. It must also be considered that, properly speaking, motives do not act upon the
mind as weights do upon a balance, but 'tis rather the mind that acts by virtue of the
motives, which are its dispositions to act. And therefore to pretend, as the author does
here, that the mind prefers sometimes weak motives to strong ones, and even that it
prefers that which is indifferent before motives; this, I say, is to divide the mind from
the motives as if they were without the mind as the weight is distinct from the balance and
as if the mind had, besides motives, other dispositions to act by virtue of which it could
reject or accept the motives. Whereas, in truth, the motives comprehend all the dispo-
sitions which the mind can have to act voluntarily, for they include not only the reasons
but also the inclinations arising from passions or other preceding impressions. Where-
fore if the mind should prefer a weak inclination to a strong one, it would act against
itself and otherwise than it is disposed to act. Which shows that the author's notions,
contrary to mine, are superficial and appear to have no solidity in them when they are
well considered.
16. To assert also that the mind may have good reasons to act when it has no mo-
tives and when things are absolutely indifferent, as the author explains himself here;
this, I say, is a manifest contradiction. For if the mind has good reasons for taking the
part it takes, then the things are not indifferent to the mind.
17. And to affirm that the mind will act when it has reasons to act, even though the
ways of acting were absolutely indifferent; this, I say, is to speak again very super-
ficially and in a manner that cannot be defended. For a man never has a sufficient
reason to act when he has not also a sufficient reason to act in a certain particular
manner, every action being individual and not general, nor abstract from its circum-
stances, but always needing some particular way of being put into execution. Where-
fore when there is a sufficient reason to do any particular thing, there is also a sufficient
reason to do it in a certain particular manner, and consequently several manners of
doing it are not indifferent. As often as a man has sufficient reasons for a single action,
he has also sufficient reasons for all its requisites. See also what I shall say below,
No. 66.
18. These arguments are very obvious, and 'tis very strange to charge me with
advancing my principle of the want of a sufficient reason without any proof drawn
either from the nature of things or from the divine perfections. For the nature of things
requires that every event should have beforehand its proper conditions, requisites, and
dispositions, the existence whereof makes the sufficient reason of such event.
19. And God's perfection requires that all his actions should be agreeable to his
wisdom and that it may not be said of him that he has acted without reason or even
that he has preferred a weaker reason before a stronger.
20. But I shall speak more largely at the conclusion of this paper concerning the
solidity and importance of this great principle of the want of a sufficient reason in
order to every event, the overthrowing of which principle would overthrow the best part
of all philosophy. 'Tis therefore very strange that the author should say I am herein
guilty of a petitio principii, and it plainly appears he is desirous to maintain indefen-
sible opinions, since he is reduced to deny that great principle which is one of the
most essential principles of reason.
To Sections 3 and 4:
21. It must be confessed that though this great principle has been acknowledged,
yet it has not been sufficiently made use of. Which is in great measure the reason why
the prima philosophia has not been hitherto so fruitful and demonstrative as it should
have been. I infer from that principle, among other consequences, that there are not
in nature two real, absolute beings, indiscernible from each other, because, if there
were, God and nature would act without reason in ordering the one otherwise than the
other; and that therefore God does not produce two pieces of matter perfectly equal
and alike. The author answers this conclusion without confuting the reason of it, and
he answers with a very weak objection. "That argument", says he, "if it was good,
would prove that it would be impossible for God to create any matter at all. For the
perfectly solid parts of matter, if we take them of equal figure and dimensions (which
is always possible in supposition), would be exactly alike." But 'tis a manifest petitio
principii to suppose that perfect likeness, which, according to me, cannot be admitted.
This supposition of two indiscernibles, such as two pieces of matter perfectly alike,
seems indeed to be possible in abstract terms, but it is not consistent with the order of
things, nor with the divine wisdom by which nothing is admitted without reason. The
vulgar fancy such things because they content themselves with incomplete notions.
And this is one of the faults of the atomists.
22. Besides, I don't admit in matter parts perfectly solid, or that are the same
throughout without any variety or particular motion in their parts, as the pretended
atoms are imagined to be. To suppose such bodies is another popular opinion ill
grounded. According to my demonstrations, every part of matter is actually subdivided
into parts differently moved, and no one of them is perfectly like another.
23. I said that in sensible things two that are indiscernible can never be found; that,
for instance, two leaves in a garden or two drops of water perfectly alike are not to be
found. The author acknowledges it as to leaves and perhaps as to drops of water. But
he might have admitted it without any hesitation, without a 'perhaps' (an Italian
would say senza/orse), as to drops of water likewise.
24. I believe that these general observations in things sensible hold also in proportion
in things insensible and that one may say in this respect what Harlequin says in the
Emperor 0/ the Moon: 'tis there just as 'tis here. And 'tis a great objection against
indiscernibles that no instance of them is to be found. 29 But the author opposes this
consequence, because (says he) sensible bodies are compounded, whereas he main-
tains there are insensible bodies which are simple. I answer again that I don't admit
simple bodies. There is nothing simple, in my opinion, but true monads, which have
neither parts nor extension. Simple bodies, and even perfectly similar ones, are a con-

sequence of the false hypothesis of a vacuum and of atoms, or of lazy philosophy,

which does not sufficiently carryon the analysis of things and fancies it can attain to
the first material elements of nature because our imagination would be therewith
satisfied.
25. When I deny that there are two drops of water perfectly alike, or any two other
bodies indiscernible from each other, I don't say 'tis absolutely impossible to suppose
them but that 'tis a thing contrary to the divine wisdom, and which consequently
does not exist.
26. I own that if two things perfectly indiscernible from each other did exist they
would be two, but that supposition is false and contrary to the grand principle of
reason. The vulgar philosophers were mistaken when they believed that there are two
things different solo numero, or only because they are two, and from this error have
arisen their perplexities about what they called the principle of individuation. 30 Meta-
physics have generally been handled like a science of mere words, like a philosophical
dictionary, without entering into the discussion of things. Superficial philosophy, such
as is that of the atomists and vacuists, forges things which superior reasons do not
permit. I hope my demonstrations will change the face of philosophy, notwithstanding
such weak objections as the author raises here against me.
27. The parts of time and place considered in themselves are ideal things, and
therefore they perfectly resemble one another like two abstract units. But it is not so
with two concrete ones, or with two real times, or two spaces filled up, that is, truly
actual.
28. I don't say that two points of space are one and the same point, nor that two
instants of time are one and the same instant, as the author seems to charge me with
saying. But a man may fancy, for want of knowledge, that there are two different
instants where there is but one; in like manner, as I observed in the seventeenth
paragraph of the foregoing answer, that frequently in geometry we suppose two in
order represent the error of a gainsayer, where there is really but one. If any man
should suppose that a right line cuts another in two points, it will be found, after all,
that these two pretended points must coincide and make but one point.
29. I have demonstrated that space is nothing else but an order of the existence of
things observed as existing together, and therefore the fiction of a material finite uni-
verse moving forward in an infinite empty space cannot be admitted. It is altogether
unreasonable and impracticable. For besides that, there is no real space out of the
material universe, such an action would be without any design in it; it would be
working without doing anything, agendo nihil agere. There would happen no change
which could be observed by any person whatsoever.31 There are imaginations of phi-
losophers who have incomplete notions, who make space an absolute reality. Mere
mathematicians who are only taken up with the conceits of imagination are apt to
forge such notions, but they are destroyed by superior reasons.
30. Absolutely speaking, it appears that God can make the material universe finite
in extension, but the contrary appears more agreeable to his wisdom.
31. I don't grant that every finite is movable. According to the hypothesis of my
adversaries themselves, a part of space, though finite, is not movable. What is movable
must be capable of changing its situation with respect to something else and to be in
a new state discernible from the first; otherwise the change is but a fiction. A movable
finite Irtust therefore make part of another finite, that any change may happen which
can be observed.
32. Cartesius maintains that matter is unlimited 32, and I don't think he has been
sufficiently confuted. And though this be granted him, yet it does not follow that
matter would be necessary, nor that it would have existed from eternity, since that un-
limited diffusion of matter would only be an effect of God's choice judging that to be
the better.
To Section 7:
33. Since space in itself is an ideal thing like time, space out of the world must needs
be imaginary, as the Schoolmen themselves have acknowledged. The case is the same
with empty space within the world, which I take also to be imaginary, for the reasons
before alleged.
34. The author objects against me the vacuum discovered by Mr. Guericke of
Magdeburg, which is made by pumping the air out of a receiver, and he pretends that
there is truly a perfect vacuum or a space without matter (at least in part) in that re-
ceiver.33 The Aristotelians and Cartesians, who do not admit a true vacuum, have
said in answer to that experiment of Mr. Guericke, as well as to that of Torricelli of
Florence (who emptied the air out of a glass tube by the help of quicksilver), that there
is no vacuum at all in the tube or in the receiver, since glass has small pores which the
beams of light, the effluvia of the loadstone, and other very thin fluids may go through.
I am of their opinion, and I think the receiver may be compared to a box full of holes
in the water having fish or other gross bodies shut up in it, which, being taken out,
their place would nevertheless be filled up with water. There is only this difference -
that though water be fluid and more yielding than those gross bodies, yet it is as heavy
and massive, if not more, than they, whereas the matter which gets into the receiver
in the room of the air is much more subtle. The new sticklers for a vacuum allege in
answer to this instance that it is not the grossness of matter but its mere quantity that
makes resistance, and consequently that there is of necessity more vacuum where there
is less resistance. They add that the subtleness of matter has nothing to do here and that
the particles of quicksilver are as subtle and fine as those of water, and yet that quick-
silver resists above ten times more. To this I reply that it is not so much the quantity
of matter as its difficulty of giving place that makes resistance. For instance floating
timber contains less of heavy matter than an equal bulk of water does, and yet it makes
more resistance to a boat than the water does.
35. And as for quicksilver, 'tis true, it contains about fourteen times more of heavy
matter than an equal bulk of water does, but it does not follow that it contains fourteen
times more matter absolutely. On the contrary, water contains as much matter, if we in-
c1ude both its own matter, which is heavy, and the extraneous matter void of heaviness
which passes through its pores. For both quicksilver and water are masses of heavy
matter, full of pores, through which there passes a great deal of matter void of heavi-
ness (and which does not sensibly resist), such as is probably that of the rays of light
and other insensible fluids, and especially that which is itself the cause of the gravity of
gross bodies, by receding from the center toward which it drives those bodies. For it is
a strange imagination to make all matter gravitate, and that toward all other matter,
as if each body did equally attract every other body according to their masses and

702 LEIBNIZ: PHILOSOP HICAL PAPERS AND LETTERS
distances - and this by an attraction properly so called, which is not derived from an
occult impulse of bodies, whereas the gravity of sensible bodies toward the center of the
earth ought to be produced by the motion of some fluid. And the case must be the
same with other gravities such as is that of the planets toward the sun or toward each
other. (A body is never moved naturally except by another body which impels it by
touching it, and afterward it advances until it is stopped by another body which
touches it. Every other operation on bodies is either miraculous or imaginary.)34
36. I objected that space, taken for something real and absolute without bodies,
would be a thing eternal, impassible, and independent upon God. The author endeavors
to elude this difficulty by saying that space is a property of God. In answer to this I
have said, in my foregoing paper, that the property of God is immensity but that space
(which is often commensurate with bodies) and God's immensity are not the same
thing.
37. I objected further that if space be a property, and infinite space be the immensity
of God, finite space will be the extension or mensurability of something finite. And
therefore the space taken up by a body will be the extension of that body. Which is an
absurdity, since a body can change space but cannot leave its extension. 35
38. I asked also, if space is a property, what thing will an empty limited space (such
as that which my adversary imagines in an exhausted receiver) be the property of? It
does not appear reasonable to say that this empty space, either round or square, is a
property of God. Will it be then perhaps the property of some immaterial, extended,
imaginary substances which the author seems to fancy in the imaginary spaces?
39. If space is the property or affection of the substance which is in space, the same
space will be sometimes the affection of one body, sometimes of another body, some-
times of an immaterial substance, and sometimes perhaps of God himself, when it is
void of all other substance, material or immaterial. But this is a strange property or
affection, which passes from one subject to another. Thus subjects will leave off their
accidents like clothes, that other subjects may put them on. At this rate how shall we
distinguish accidents and substances? 36
40. And if limited spaces are the affections of limited substances which are in them,
and infinite space be a property of God, a property of God must (which is very
strange) be made up of the affections of creatures, for all finite spaces taken together
make up infinite space.
41. But if the author denies that limited space is an affection of limited things, it
will not be reasonable neither that infinite space should be the affection or property of
an infinite thing. I have suggested all these difficulties in my foregoing paper, but it
does not appear that the author has endeavored to answer them.
42. I have still other reasons against this strange imagination that space is a property
of God. If it be so, space belongs to the essence of God. But space has parts; therefore
there would be parts in the essence of God. Spectatum admissi !
43. Moreover, spaces are sometimes empty and sometimes filled up. Therefore there
will be in the essence of God parts sometimes empty and sometimes full and conse-
quently liable to a perpetual change. Bodies filling up space would fill up part of God's
essence and would be commensurate with it; and in the supposition of a vacuum, part
of God's essence will be within the receiver. Such a God having parts will very much
resemble the Stoic's god, which was the whole universe considered as a divine animal.
44. If infinite space is God's immensity, infinite time will be God's eternity; and
therefore we must say that what is in space is in God's immensity and consequently in
his essence and that what is in time is also in the essence of God. Strange expressions,
which plainly show that the author makes a wrong use of terms.
45. I shall give another instance of this. God's immensity makes him actually
present in all spaces. But now if God is in space, how can it be said that space is in God
or that it is a property of God? We have often heard that a property is in its subject,
but we never heard that a subject is in its property. In like manner, God exists in all
time. How then can time be in God, and how can it be a property of God? These' are
perpetual alloglossies.
46. It appears that the author confounds immensity, or the extension of things, with
the space according to which that extension is taken. Infinite space is not the immensity
of God; finite space is not the extension of bodies, as time is not their duration. Things
keep their extension, but they do not always keep their space. Everything has its own
extension, its own duration, but it has not its own time and does not keep its own space.
47. I will here show how men come to form to themselves the notion of space. They
consider that many things exist at once, and they observe in them a certain order of
coexistence, according to which the relation of one thing to another is more or less
simple. This order is their situation or distance. When it happens that one of those
coexistent things changes its relation to a multitude of others which do not change
their relations among themselves, and that another thing, newly come, acquires the same
relation to the others as the former had, we then say it is come into the place of the
former; and this change we call a motion in that body wherein is the immediate cause
of the change. And though many, or even all, the coexistent things should change
according to certain known rules of direction and swiftness, yet one may always
determine the relation of situation which every coexistent acquires with respect to
every other coexistent, and even that relation which any other coexistent would have
to this, or which this would have to any other, if it had not changed or if it had changed
any otherwise. And supposing or feigning that among those coexistents there is a
sufficient number of them which have undergone no change, then we may say that
those which have such a relation to those fixed existents as others had to them before
have now the same place which those others had. And that which comprehends all
those places is called space. Which shows that in order to have an idea of place, and
consequently of space, it is sufficient to consider these relations and the rules of their
changes, without needing to fancy any absolute reality out of the things whose situation
we consider; and to give a kind of definition, place is that which we say is the same
to A and to B, when the relation of the coexistence of B, with C, E, F, G, etc., agrees
perfectly with the relation of the coexistence which A had with the same C, E, F, G, etc.,
supposing there has been no cause of change in C, E, F, G, etc. It might be said also,
without entering into any further particularity, that place is that which is the same in
different moments to different existent things when their relations of coexistence with
certain other existents which are supposed to continue fixed from one of those moments
to the other agree entirely together. Andfixed existents are those in which there has been
no cause of any change of the order of their coexistence with others, or (which is the
same thing) in which there has been no motion. Lastly, space is that which results from
places taken together. And here it may not be amiss to consider the difference between

place and the relation of situation which is in the body that fills up the place. For the
place of A and B is the same, whereas the relation of A to fixed bodies is not precisely
and individually the same as the relation which B (that comes into its place) will have
to the same fixed bodies; but these relations agree only. For two different subjects, as
A and B, cannot have precisely the same individual affection, it being impossible that
the same individual accident should be in two subjects or pass from one subject to
another. But the mind, not contented with an agreement, looks for an identity, for
something that should be truly the same, and conceives it as being extrinsic to the
subject; and this is what we here call place and space. But this can only be an ideal
thing, containing a certain order, wherein the mind conceives the application of
relations. 37 In like manner as the mind can fancy to itself an order made up of geneol-
ogical lines whose bigness would consist only in the number of generations wherein
every person would have his place; and if to this one should add the fiction of a me-
tempsychosis and bring in the same human souls again, the persons in those lines might
change place; he who was a father or a grandfather might become a son or a grandson,
etc. And yet those genealogical places, lines, and spaces, though they should express
real truths, would only be ideal things. I shall allege another example to show how the
mind uses, upon occasion of accidents which are in subjects, to fancy to itself something
answerable to those accidents out of the subjects. The ratio or proportion between
two lines Land M may be conceived three several ways: as a ratio of the greater L to
the lesser M, as a ratio of the lesser M to the greater L, and, lastly, as something
abstracted from both, that is, the ratio between Land M without considering which
is the antecedent or which the consequent, which the subject and which the object.
And thus it is that proportions are considered in music. In the first way of considering
them, L the greater, in the second, M the lesser, is the subject of that accident which
philosophers call 'relation'. But which of them will be the subject in the third way of
considering them? It cannot be said that both of them, Land M together, are the
subject of such an accident; for, if so, we should have an accident in two subjects, with
one leg in one and the other in the other, which is contrary to the notion of accidents.
Therefore we must say that this relation, in this third way of considering it, is indeed
out of the subjects; but being neither a substance nor an accident, it must be a mere
ideal thing, the consideration of which is nevertheless useful. To conclude, I have here
done much like Euclid, who, not being able to make his readers well understand what
ratio is absolutely in the sense of geometricians, defines what are the same ratios.
Thus, in like manner, in order to explain what place is, I have been content to define
what is the same place. Lastly, I observe that the traces of movable bodies, which they
leave sometimes upon the immovable ones on which they are moved, have given men
occasion to form in their imagination such an idea, as if some trace did still remain,
even when there is nothing unmoved. But this is a mere ideal thing and imports only
that if there was any unmoved thing there, the trace might be marked out upon it. And
'tis this analogy which makes men fancy places, traces, and spaces, though these things
consist only in the truth of relations and not at all in any absolute reality.
48. To conclude, if the space (which the author fancies) void of all bodies is not
altogether empty, what is it then full of? Is it full of extended spirits perhaps, or im-
material substances capable of extending and contracting themselves which move
therein and penetrate each other without any inconveniency, as the shadows of two
bodies penetrate one another upon the surface of a wall? Methinks I see the revival of
the odd imaginations of Dr. Henry More, otherwise a learned and well-meaning man,
and of some others who fancied that those spirits can make themselves impenetrable
whenever they please. Nay, some have fancied that man in the state of innocency had
also the gift of penetration and that he became solid, opaque, and impenetrable by his
fall. Is it not overthrowing our notions of things to make God have parts, to make spirits
have extension? The principle of the want of a sufficient reason does alone drive away
all these specters of imagination. Men easily run into fictions for want of making a
right use of that great principle.
To Section 10:
49. It cannot be said that a certain duration is eternal but that things, which continue
always, are eternal, by gaining always new duration. 38 Whatever exists of time and of
duration, being successive, perishes continually, and how can a thing exist eternally
which (to speak exactly) does not exist at all? For how can a thing exist whereof no
part does ever exist? Nothing of time does ever exist but instants, and an instant is not
even itself a part of time. Whoever considers these observations will easily apprehend
that time can only be an ideal thing. And the analogy between time and space will easily
make it appear that the one is as merely ideal as the other. (However, if by saying that
the duration of a thing is eternal is merely understood that it lasts eternally, I have no
objection. 39 )
50. If the reality of space and time is necessary to the immensity and eternity of
God, if God must be in space, if being in space is a property of God, he will in some
measure depend upon time and space and stand in need of them. For I have already
prevented that subterfuge - that space and time are in God and as it were properties
of God. (Could the opinion which should affirm that bodies move about in the parts
ofthe divine essence be maintained? 40)

51. I objected that space cannot be in God because it has parts. Hereupon the
author seeks another subterfuge by departing from the received sense of words, main-
taining that space has no parts because its parts are not separable and cannot be
removed from one another by discerption. But 'tis sufficient that space has parts,
whether those parts be separable or not, and they may be assigned in space, either by
the bodies that are in it or by lines and surfaces that may be drawn and described in it.
To Section 13:
52. In order to prove that space without bodies is an absolute reality, the author
objected that a finite material universe might move forward in space. I answered, it
does not appear reasonable that the material universe should be finite, and though we
should suppose it to be finite, yet 'tis unreasonable it should have motion any otherwise
than as its parts change their situation among themselves, for then there is motion in
space, but it consists in the order of relations which are changed. The author replies
now that the reality of motion does not depend upon being observed and that a ship
may go forward, and yet a man who is in the ship may not perceive it. I answer, mo-
tion does not indeed depend upon being observed, but it does depend upon being pos-
sible to be observed. There is no motion when there is no change that can be observed.
And when there is no change that can be observed, there is no change at all. 41 The

contrary opinion is grounded upon the supposition of a real absolute space, which I
have demonstratively confuted by the principle of the want of a sufficient reason.
53. I find nothing in the eighth definition of the Mathematical Principles of Nature,
nor in the scholium belonging to it, that proves or can prove the reality of space in
itself.42 However, I grant there is a difference between an absolute true motion of a
body and a mere relative change of its situation with respect to another body. For
when the immediate cause of the change is in the body, that body is truly in motion, and
then the situation of other bodies with respect to it will be changed consequently,
though the cause of that change be not in them. 'Tis true that, exactly speaking, there
is not anyone body that is perfectly and entirely at rest, but we will frame an abstract
notion of rest by considering the thing mathematically. Thus have I left nothing un-
answered of what has been alleged for the absolute reality of space. And I have de-
monstrated the falsehood of tha~ reality by a fundamental principle, one of the most
certain both in reason and experience, against which no exception or instance can
be alleged. Upon the whole, one may judge from what has been said that I ought not
to admit a movable universe, nor any place out of the material universe.
To Section 14:
54. I am not sensible of any objection but what I think I have sufficiently answered.
As for the objection that space and time are quantities, or rather things endowed with
quantity, and that situation and order are not so, I answer that order also has its quan-
tity; there is in it that which goes before and that which follows; there is distance or
interval. Relative things have their quantity as well as absolute ones. For instance, ratios
or proportions in mathematics have their quantity and are measured by logarithms,
and yet they are relations. 43 And therefore, though time and space consist in relations,
yet they have their quantity.
To Section 15:
55. As to the question whether God could have created the world sooner, 'tis ne-
cessary here to understand each other rightly. Since I have demonstrated that time,
without things, is nothing else but a mere ideal possibility, 'tis manifest if anyone
should say that this same world which has been actually created might have been creat-
ed sooner without any other change, he would say nothing that is intelligible. For there
R
,..----------, S
!, .!
iA 18
I.l=E'--_ _ _ _ _~F
Fig. 39.
is no mark or difference whereby it would be possible to know that this world was
created sooner. And, therefore (as I have already said), to suppose that God created the
same world sooner is supposing a chimerical thing. 'Tis making time a thing absolute,
independent upon God, whereas time must coexist with creatures and is only con-
ceived by the order and quantity of their changes.
56. But yet, absolutely speaking, one may conceive that a universe began sooner
than it actually did. Let us suppose our universe or any other to be represented by the
figure AF and that the ordinate AB represents its first state and the ordinates CD and EF
its following states; I say one may conceive that such a world began sooner by con-
ceiving the figure prolonged backward and by adding to it SRABS (Figure 39). For
thus, things being increased, time will be also increased. But whether such an aug-
mentation be reasonable and agreeable to God's wisdom is another question, to which
we answer in the negative; otherwise God would have made such an augmentation. 44 It
would be like as
Humano capiti cervicem pictor equinam
Jungere si velit. 45
The case is the same with respect to the destruction 46 of the universe. As one might
conceive something added to the beginning, so one might also conceive something
taken off toward the end. But such a retrenching from it would be also unreasonable.
57. Thus it appears how we are to understand that God created things at what time
he pleased, for this depends upon the things which he resolved to create. But things
being once resolved upon, together with their relations, there remains no longer any
choice about the time and the place, which of themselves have nothing in them real,
nothing that can distinguish them, nothing that is at all discernible.
58. One cannot therefore say, as the author does here, that the wisdom of God may
have good reasons to create this world at such or such a particular time, that particular
time considered without the things being an impossible fiction, and good reasons for
a choice being not to be found where everything is indiscernible.
59. When I speak of this world, I mean the whole universe of material and imma-
terial creatures taken together, from the beginning of things. But if anyone mean only
the beginning of the material world, and suppose immaterial creatures before it, he
would have somewhat more reason for his supposition. For time then being marked
by things that existed already, it would be no longer indifferent, and there might be
room for choice. And yet, indeed, this would be only putting off the difficulty. For
supposing the whole universe of immaterial and material creatures together to have a
beginning, there is no longer any choice about the time in which God would place that
beginning.
60. And therefore one must not say, as the author does here, that God created
things in what particular space and at what particular time he pleased. For all time
and all spaces being in themselves perfectly uniform and indiscernible from each
other, one of them cannot please more than another.
61. I shall not enlarge here upon my opinion explained elsewhere that there are no
created substances wholly destitute of matter. For I hold with the ancients, and
according to reason, that angels or intelligences, and souls separated from a gross
body, have always subtle bodies, though they themselves be incorporeal. The vulgar
philosophy easily admits all sorts of fictions; mine is more strict.

62. I don't say that matter and space are the same thing. I only say there is no space
where there is no matter and that space in itself is not an absolute reality. Space and
matter differ as time and motion. However, these things, though different, are insep-
arable.
63. But it does not at all follow that matter is eternal and necessary, unless we sup-
pose space to be eternal and necessary - a supposition ill grounded in all respects.

64. I think I have answered everything, and I have particularly replied to that
objection that space and time have quantity and that order has none. See above, No. 54.
65. I have clearly shown that the contradiction lies in the hypothesis of the opposite
opinion, which looks for a difference where there is none. And it would be a manifest
iniquity to infer from thence that I have acknowledged a contradiction in my own
opinion.
To Section 18:
66. There I find again an argument which I have overthrown above, No. 17. The
author says God may have good reasons to make two cubes perfectly equal and alike,
and then (says he) God must needs assign them to their places, though every other re-
spect be perfectly equal. But things ought not to be separated from their circumstances.
This argument consists in incomplete notions. God's resolutions are never abstract and
imperfect, as if God decreed first to create the two cubes and then made another decree
where to place them. Men, being such limited creatures as they are, may act in this
manner. They may resolve upon a thing and then find themselves perplexed about
means, ways, places, and circumstances. But God never takes a resolution about the
ends without resolving at the same time about the means and all the circumstances.
Nay, I have shown in my Theodicy that, properly speaking, there is but one decree for
the whole universe, whereby God resolved to bring it out of possibility into existence.
And therefore God will not choose a cube without choosing its place at the same time,
and he will never choose among indiscernibles.
67. The parts of space are not determined and distinguished but by the things which
are in it, and the diversity of things in space determines God to act differently upon
different parts of space. But space without things has nothing whereby it may be
distinguished and, indeed, not anything actual.
68. If God is resolved to place a certain cube of matter at all, he is also resolved in
which particular place to put it. But 'tis with respect to other parts of matter, and not
with respect to bare space itself, in which there is nothing to distinguish it.
69. But wisdom does not allow God to place at the same time two cubes perfectly
equal and alike, because there is no way to find any reason for assigning them different
places. At this rate there would be a will without a motive.
70. A will without a motive, such as superficial reasoners suppose to be in God, I
compared to Epicurus' chance. The author answers, Epicurus' chance is a blind ne-
cessity and not a choice of will. I reply that Epicurus' chance is not a necessity but
something indifferent. Epicurus brought it in on purpose to avoid necessity. 'Tis true,
chance is blind, but a will without motive would be no less blind and no less owing to
mere chance.
To Section 19:
71. The author repeats here what has been already confuted above, No. 21 - that
matter cannot be created without God's choosing among indiscernibles. He would
be in the right if matter consisted of atoms, similar particles, or other the like fictions
of superficial philosophy. But that great principle which proves there is no choice
among indiscernibles destroys also these ill-contrived fictions.
To Section 20:
72. The author objected against me in his third paper (Nos. 7 and 8) that God
would not have in himself a principle of acting if he was determined by things external.
I answered that the ideas of external things are in him and that therefore he is determin-
ed by internal reasons, that is, by his wisdom. But the author here will not understand
to what end I said it.
To Section 21:
73. He frequently confounds in his objections against me what God will not do with
what he cannot do. See above, No.9, and below, No. 76. For example, God can do
everything that is possible, but he will do only what is best. And therefore I don't say,
as the author here will have it, that God cannot limit the extension of matter; but 'tis
likely he will not do it and that he has thought it better to set no bounds to matter.
74. From extension to duration, non valet consequentia. Though the extension of
matter were unlimited, yet it would not follow that its duration would be also unlimited;
nay, even a parte ante, it would not follow that it had no beginning. If it is the nature
of things in the whole to grow uniformly in perfection, the universe of creatures must
have had a beginning. 47 And therefore there will be reasons to limit the duration of
things, even though there were none to limit their extension. Besides, the world's
having a beginning does not derogate from the infinity of its duration a parte post, but
bounds of the universe would derogate from the infinity of its extension. And there-
fore it is more reasonable to admit a beginning of the world than to admit any bounds
of it, that the character of its infinite author may be in both respects preserved.
75. However, those who have admitted the eternity of the world, or at least (as
some famous divines have done), the possibility of its eternity, did not for all that
deny its dependence upon God, as the author here lays to their charge without any
ground.

76. He here further objects, without any reason, that according to my opinion,
whatever God can do he must needs have done. As if he was ignorant that I have
solidly confuted this notion in my Theodicy, and that I have overthrown the opinion
of those who maintain that there is nothing possible but what really happens, as
some ancient philosophers did, and among others, Diodorus in Cicero. 48 The author
confounds moral necessity, which proceeds from the choice of what is best, with ab-
solute necessity; he confounds the will of God with his power. God can produce ev-
erything that is possible or whatever does not imply a contradiction, but he wills only
to produce what is the best among things possible. See what has been said above,
Nos. 9 and 74.
77. God is not therefore a necessary agent in producing creatures, since he acts with

choice. However, what the author adds here is ill grounded, viz., that a necessary
agent would not be an agent at all. He frequently affirms things boldly and without
any ground, advancing against me notions which cannot be proved.
To Sections 24-28:
78. The author alleges it was not affirmed that space is God's sensorium but only,
as it were, his sensorium. The latter seems to be as improper and as little intelligible as
the former.
To Section 29:
79. Space is not the place of all things, for it is not the place of God. Otherwise there
would be a thing coetemal with God and independent upon him; nay, he himself
would depend upon it ifhe has need of place.
80. Nor do I see how it can be said that space is the place of ideas, for ideas are in
the understanding.
81. 'Tis also very strange to say that the soul of man is the soul of the images it per-
ceives. The images, which are in the understanding, are in the mind, but if the mind was
the soul of the images, they would then be extrinsic to it. And if the author means cor-
poreal images, how then will he have a human mind to be the soul of those images, they
being only transient impressions in a body belonging to that soul?
82. If 'tis by means of a sensorium that God perceives what passes in the world, it
seems that things act upon him and that therefore he is what we mean by a soul of the
world. The author charges me with repeating objections without taking notice of the
answers, but I don't see that he has answered this difficulty. They had better wholly
lay aside this pretended sensorium.
To Section 30:
83. The author speaks as if he did not understand how, according to my opinion,
the soul is a representative principle. Which is as if he had never heard of my pre-
established harmony.
84. I don't assent to the vulgar notions that the images of things are conveyed by
the organs of sense to the soul. For it is not conceivable by what passage, or by what
means of conveyance, these images can be carried from the organ to the soul. This
vulgar notion in philosophy is not intelligible, as the new Cartesians have sufficiently
shown. It cannot be explained how immaterial substance is affected by matter, and to
maintain an unintelligible notion thereupon is having recourse to the Scholastic chimer-
ical notion of I know not what inexplicable species intentionales passing from the or-
gans to the soul. Those Cartesians saw the difficulty, but they could not explain it. 49
They had recourse to a certain wholly special concourse of God, which would really
be miraculous. But I think I have given the true solution of that enigma.
85. To say that God perceives what passes in the world because he is present to the
things, and not by the dependence which the continuation of their existence has upon
him and which may be said to involve a continual production of them, is saying some-
thing unintelligible. A mere presence or proximity of coexistence is not sufficient to
make us understand how that which passes in one being should answer to what passes
in another.
86. Besides, this is exactly falling into that opinion which makes God to be the soul
of the world, seeing it supposes God to perceive things, not by their dependence upon
him, that is, by a continual production of what is good and perfect in them, but by a
kind of perception, such as that by which men fancy our soul perceives what passes in
the body. This is a degrading of God's knowledge very much.
87. In truth and reality, this way of perception is wholly chimerical and has no place
even in human souls. They perceive what passes without them by what passes within
them, answering to the things without, in virtue of the harmony which God has pre-
established by the most beautiful and the most admirable of all his productions, where-
by every simple substance is by its nature (if one may so say) a concentration and a
living mirror of the whole universe according to its point of view. Which is likewise
one of the most beautiful and most undeniable proofs of the existence of God, since none
but God, viz., the universal cause, can produce such a harmony of things. But God
himself cannot perceive things by the same means whereby he makes other beings
perceive them. He perceives them because he is able to produce that means. And other
beings would not be caused to perceive them if he himself did not produce them all
harmonious and had not therefore in himself a representation of them; not as if that
representation came from the things, but because the things proceed from him and be-
cause he is the efficient and exemplary cause of them. He perceives them because they
proceed from him - if one may be allowed to say that he perceives them, which ought
not to be said unless we divest that word of its imperfection, for else it seems to signify
that things act upon him. They exist and are known to him because he understands and
wills them and because what he wills is the same as what exists. Which appears so
much the more because he makes them to be perceived by one another and makes
them perceive one another in consequence of the natures which he has given them once
for all and which he keeps up only according to the laws of everyone of them severally,
which, though different one from another, yet terminate in an exact correspondence
of the results of the whole. This surpasses all the ideas which men have generally
framed concerning the divine perfections and the works of God and raises (our notion
of) so them to the highest degree, as Mr. Bayle has acknowledged, though he believed,
without any ground, that it exceeded possibility. 51
88. To infer from that passage of Holy Scripture, wherein God is said to have
rested from his works, that there is no longer a continual production of them would
be to make a very ill use of that text. 'Tis true, there is no production of new simple sub-
stances, but it would be wrong to infer from thence that God is now in the world only
as the soul is conceived to be in the body, governing it merely by his presence without
any concourse being necessary to continue its existence.
To Section 31,'
89. The harmony or correspondence between the soul and the body is not a perpetual
miracle but the effect or conSf:quence of an original miracle worked at the creation
of things, as all natural things are. Though indeed it is a perpetual wonder, as many
natural things are.
90. The word 'pre-established harmony' is a term of art, I confess, but 'tis not a
term that explains nothing, since it is made out very intelligibly; and the author alleges
nothing that shows there is any difficulty in it.
91. The nature of every simple substance, soul, or true monad being such that its
following state is a consequence of the preceding one, here now is the cause of the

harmony found out. For God needs only to make a simple substance become once
and from the beginning a representation of the universe according to its point of view,
since from thence alone it follows that it will be so perpetually and that all simple
substances will always have a harmony among themselves because they always re-
present the same universe.
To Section 32:
92. 'Tis true that according to me the soul does not disturb the laws of the body,
nor the body those of the soul, and that the soul and body do only agree together, the
one acting freely according to the rules of final causes and the other acting mechani-
cally according to the laws of efficient causes. But this does not derogate from the
liberty of our souls, as the author here will have it. For every agent which acts 52
according to final causes is free, though it happens to agree with an agent acting only
by efficient causes without knowledge, or mechanically, because God, foreseeing what
the free cause would do, did from the beginning regulate the machine in such a manner
that it cannot fail to agree with that free cause. Mr. Jaquelot has very well resolved
this difficulty in one of his books against Mr. Bayle, and I have cited the passage in my
Theodicy, Part I, Section 63. I shall speak ofit again below, No. 124.
To Section 33.
93. I don't admit that every action gives a new force to the patient. It frequently
happens in the concourse of bodies that each of them preserves its force, as when two
equal hard bodies meet directly. Then the direction only is changed without any
change in the force, each of the bodies receiving the direction of the other and going
back with the same swiftness it came.
94. However, I am far from saying that it is supernatural to give a new force to a
body, for I acknowledge that one body does frequently receive a new force from
another, which loses as much of its own. But I say only 'tis supernatural that the whole
universe of bodies should receive a new force, and consequently that one body should
acquire any new force without the loss of as much in others. And therefore I say
likewise, 'tis an indefensible opinion to suppose the soul gives force to the body, for then
the whole universe of bodies would receive a new force.
95. The author's dilemma here is ill grounded, viz., that according to me, either a
man must act supernaturally or be a mere machine like a watch. For man does not act
supernaturally, and his body is truly a machine acting only mechanically, and yet his
soul is a free cause.

96. I here refer to what has been or shall be said in this paper, Nos. 82, 86, 88, and
111, concerning the comparison between God and a soul of the world, and how the
opinion contrary to mine brings the one of these too near to the other.
To Section 36:
97. I here also refer to what I have before said concerning the harmony between the
soul and the body; No. 89, etc.
To Section 37:
98. The author tells us that the soul is not in the brain but in the sensorium, without
saying what that sensorium is. But supposing that sensorium to be extended, as I believe
the author understands it, the same difficulty still remains, and the question returns
whether the soul be diffused through that whole extension, be it great or small. For
more or less in bigness is nothing to the purpose here.
To Section 38:
99. I don't undertake here to establish my Dynamics or my doctrine of forces; this
would not be a proper place for it. However, I can very well answer the objection here
brought against me. I have affirmed that active forces are preserved in the world (with-
out diminution).53 The author objects that two soft or unelastic bodies meeting to-
gether lose some of their force. I answer, 'No.' 'Tis true their wholes lose it with
respect to their total motion, but their parts receive it, being shaken internally by the
force of the concourse. And therefore that loss of force is only in appearance. The
forces are not destroyed but scattered among the small parts. The bodies do not lose
their forces, but the case here is the same as when men change great money into
small. 54 However, I agree that the quantity of motion does not remain the same, and
herein I approve what Sir Isaac Newton says, page 341 of his Optics, which the author
here quotes. But I have shown elsewhere that there is a difference between the quantity
of motion and the quantity of force.
To Section 39:
100. The author maintained against me that force does naturally lessen in the mate-
rial universe and that this arises from the dependence of things (third reply, Secs. 13
and 14). In my third answer, I desired him to prove that this imperfection is a conse-
quence of the dependence of things. He avoids answering my demand by falling upon
an incident and denying this to be an imperfection. But whether it be an imperfection
or not, he should have proved that 'tis a consequence of the dependence of things.
101. However, that which would make the machine of the world as imperfect as
that of an unskilful watchmaker surely must needs be an imperfection.
102. The author says now that it is a consequence of the inertia of matter. But this
also he will not prove. That inertia alleged here by him, mentioned by Kepler, repeated
by Cartesius in his letters, and made use of by me in my Theodicy in order to give a
notion, and at the same time an example, of the natural imperfection of creatures has
no other effect than to make the velocities diminish when the quantities of matter are
increased, but this is without any diminution of the forces. 55
To Section 40:
103. I maintained that the dependence of the machine of the world upon its divine
author is rather a reason why there can be no such imperfection in it, and that the
work of God does not want to be set right again, that it is not liable to be disordered,
and, lastly, that it cannot lessen in perfection. Let anyone guess now how the author
can hence infer against me, as he does, that if this be the case, then the material world
must be infinite and eternal, without any beginning, and that God must always have
created as many men and other kinds of creatures as can possibly be created.
To Section 41:
104. I don't say that space is an order or situation which makes things capable of

being situated; this would be nonsense. Anyone needs only consider my own words,
and add them to what I said above, No. 47, in order to show how the mind comes to
form to itself an idea of space, and yet that there needs not be any real and absolute
being answering to that idea distinct from the mind and from all relations. I don't say,
therefore, that space is an order or situation, but an order of situations, or an order
according to which situations are disposed, and that abstract space is that order of
situations when they are conceived as being possible. Space is therefore something
merely ideal. But it seems the author will not understand me. I have already, in this paper,
No. 54, answered the objection that order is not capable of quantity.
105. The author objects here that time cannot be an order of successive things be-
cause the quantity of time may become greater or less, and yet the order of successions
continue the same. I answer, this is not so. For if the time is greater, there will be more
successive and like states interposed, and if it be less, there will be fewer, seeing there
is no vacuum, nor condensation, nor penetration (if I may so speak) in times any more
than in places.
106. 'Tis true, I maintain that the immensity and eternity of God would subsist
though there were no creatures, but those attributes would have no dependence either on
times or places. If there were no creatures, there would be neither time nor place, and
consequently no actual space. The immensity of God is independent upon space, as
his eternity is independent upon time. These attributes signify only, in respect to these
two orders of things, that God would be present and coexistent with all the things that
should exist. And therefore I don't admit what's here alleged, that if God existed alone
there would be time and space as there is now, whereas then, in my opinion, they would
be only in the ideas of God as mere possibilities. The immensity and eternity of God
are things more transcendent than the duration and extension of creatures, not only
with respect to the greatness, but also to the nature of the things. Those divine attri-
butes do not imply the supposition of things extrinsic to God, such as are actual places
and times. These truths have been sufficiently acknowledged by divines and philo-
sophers.
To Section 42:
107. I maintained that an operation of God by which he should mend the machine
of the material world, tending in its nature, as this author pretends, to lose all its
motion, would be a miracle. His answer was that it would not be a miraculous opera-
tion because it would be usual and must frequently happen. I replied that 'tis not
usualness or unusualness that makes a miracle properly so called, or a miracle of the
highest sort, but its surpassing the powers of creatures, and that this is the general
opinion of divines and philosophers; and that therefore the author acknowledges at
least that the thing he introduces and I disallow is, according to the received notion,
a miracle of the highest sort, that is, one which surpasses all created powers, and that
this is the very thing which all men endeavor to avoid in philosophy. He answers now
that this is appealing from reason to vulgar opinion. But I reply again that this vulgar
opinion, according to which we ought in philosophy to avoid as much as possible what
surpasses the natures of creatures, is a very reasonable opinion. Otherwise nothing
will be easier than to account for anything by bringing in the deity, deum ex machina,
without minding the natures of things.
lOS. Besides, the common opinion of divines ought not to be looked upon merely
as vulgar opinion. A man should have weighty reasons before he ventures to contra-
dict it, and I see no such reasons here.
109. The author seems to depart from his own notion, according to which miracle
ought to be unusual, when in Section 31, he objects to me - though without any
ground - that the pre-established harmony would be a perpetual miracle. Here, I say,
he seems to depart from his own notion, unless he had a mind to argue against me ad
hominem.
To Section 43:
110. If a miracle differs from what is natural only in appearance and with respect to
us, so that we call that only a miracle which we seldom see, there will be no internal
real difference between a miracle and what is natural, and at the bottom everything
will be either equally natural or equally miraculous. Will divines like the former, or
philosophers the latter?
111. Will not this doctrine, moreover, tend to make God the soul of the world, if
all his operations are natural like those of our souls upon our bodies? And so God will
be a part of nature.
112. In good philosophy and sound theology we ought to distinguish between what
is explicable by the natures and powers of creatures and what is explicable only by the
powers of the infinite substance. We ought to make an infinite difference between the
operation of God, which goes beyond the extent of natural powers, and the operations
of things that follOW the law which God has given them, and which he has enabled
them to follow by their natural powers, though not without his assistance.
113. This overthrows attractions, properly so called, and other operations inexpli-
cable by the natural powers of creatures, which kinds of operations the assertors of
them must suppose to be effected by miracle, or else have recourse to absurdities, that
is, to the occult qualities of the Schools, which some men begin to revive under the
specious name of forces, but they bring us back again into the kingdom of darkness.
This is inventafruge, glandibus vescio 56
114. In the time of Mr. Boyle and other excellent men who flourished in England
under Charles the Second, nobody would have ventured to publish such chimerical
notions, I hope that happy time will return under so good a government as the present
and that minds a little too much carried away by the misfortune of the times will
betake themselves to the better cultivation of sound learning. Mr. Boyle made it his
chief business to inculcate that everything was done mechanically in natural philo-
sophy. 57 But it is men's misfortune to grow at last out of conceit with reason itself and
to be weary of light. Chimeras begin to appear again, and they are pleasing because
they have something in them that is wonderful. What has happened in poetry happens
also in the philosophical world. People are grown weary of rational romances such as
were the French CM/ie or the German Aramene, and they are become fond again of
the tales offairies. 58
115. As for the motions of the celestial bodies and even the formation of plants and
animals, there is nothing in them that looks like a miracle except their beginning. The
organism of animals is a mechanism which supposes a divine preformation. What
follows upon it is purely natural and entirely mechanical. 59
116. Whatever is performed in the body of man and of every animal is no less
mechanical than what is performed in a watch. The difference is only such as ought

to be between a machine of divine invention and the workmanship of such a limited

artist as man is.
To Section 44:
117. There is no difficulty among divines about the miracles of angels. The question
is only about the use of that word. It may be said that angels work miracles, but less
properly so called, or of an inferior order. To dispute about this would be a mere
question about a word. It may be said that the angel who carried Habakkuk through the
air, and he who troubled the water of the pool of Bethesda, worked a miracle. But it
was not a miracle of the highest order, for it may be explained by the natural powers
of angels, which surpass those of man.
To Section 45:
118. I objected that an attraction, properly so called or in the Scholastic sense,
would be an operation at a distance without any means intervening. The author
answers here that an attration without any means intervening would be indeed a
contradiction. Very well. But then what does he mean when he will have the sun to
attract the globe of the earth through an empty space? Is it God himself that performs
it? But this would be a miracle if ever there was any. This would surely exceed the
powers of creatures.
119. Or are perhaps some immaterial substances or some spiritual rays, or some
accidents without a substance, or some kind of species intentionalis, or some other
'I know not what', the means by which this is pretended to be performed? Of which
sort of things the author seems to have still a good stock in his head, without explaining
himself sufficiently.
120. That means of communication, says he, is invisible, intangible, not mechanical.
He might as well have added inexplicable, unintelligible, precarious, groundless, and
unexampled.
121. But it is regular, says the author; it is constant and consequently natural. I
answer, it cannot be regular without being reasonable, nor natural unless it can be
explained by the natures of creatures.
122. If the means which causes an attraction properly so called be constant and at
the same time inexplicable by the powers of creatures, and yet be true, it must be a
perpetual miracle, and if it is not miraculous it is false. 'Tis a chimerical thing, a
Scholastic occult quality.
123. The case would be the same as in a body going round without receding in the
tangent, though nothing that can be explained hindered it from receding. Which is an
instance I have already alleged, and the author has not thought fit to answer it because
it shows too clearly the difference between what is truly natural, on the one side, and a
chimerical occult quality of the Schools, on the other.
To Section 46:
124. All the natural forces of bodies are subject to mechanical laws, and all the
natural powers of spirits are subject to moral laws. The former follow the order of
efficient causes, and the latter follow the order of final causes. The former operate
without liberty, like a watch; the latter operate with liberty, though they exactly agree
with that machine which another cause, free and superior, has adapted to them
beforehand. I have already spoken of this above, No. 92.
125. I shall conclude with what the author objected against me at the beginning of
this fourth reply, to which I have already given an answer above, Nos. 18, 19,20. But
I have deferred speaking more fully upon that head to the conclusion of this paper.
He pretended that I have been guilty of a petitio principii. But of what principle, I
beseech you? Would to God less clear principles had never been laid down. The
principle in question is the principle of the want of a sufficient reason in order to any-
thing's existing, in order to any event's happening, in order to any truth's taking place.
Is this a principle that wants to be proved? The author granted it or pretended to
grant it, No.2 of his third paper, possibly because the denial of it would have appeared
too unreasonable. But either he has done it only in words or the contradicts himself or
retracts his concession.
126. I dare say that without this great principle one cannot prove the existence of
God, nor account for many other important truths.
127. Has not everybody made use of this principle upon a thousand occasions?
'Tis true, it has been neglected out of carelessness on many occasions, but that neglect
has been the true cause of chimeras such as are, for instance, an absolute real time or
space, a vacuum, atoms, attraction in the Scholastic sense, a physical influence of the
soul over the body, and a thousand other fictions either derived from erroneous
opinions of the ancients or lately invented by modern philosophers.
128. Was it not upon account of Epicurus' violating this great principle that the
ancients derided his groundless declination of atoms? And I dare say the Scholastic
attraction, revived in our days and no less derided about thirty years ago, is not at all
more reasonable.
129. I have often defied people to allege an instance against that great principle, to
bring anyone uncontested example wherein it fails. But they have never done it, nor
ever will. 'Tis certain there is an infinite number of instances wherein it succeeds, or
rather it succeeds in all the known cases in which it has been made use of. From
whence one may reasonably judge that it will succeed also in unknown cases, or in such
cases as can only by its means become known, according to the method of experimental
philosophy which proceeds a posteriori, though the principle were not perhaps other-
wise justified by bare reason, or a priori. 60
130. To deny this great principle is likewise to do as Epicurus did, who was reduced
to deny that other great principle, viz., the principle of contradiction, which is that
every intelligible enunciation must be either true or false. Chrysippus undertook to
prove that principle against Epicurus, but I think I need not imitate him. I have already
said what is sufficient to justify mine, and I might say something more upon it, but
perhaps it would be too abstruse for this present dispute. And I believe reasonable and
impartial men will grant me that having forced an adversary to deny that principle is
reducing him ad absurdum. 61
REFERENCES
1 In A Collection of Papers Which Passed between the Late Learned Mr. Leibnitz and Dr.
Clarke, in the Years 1715 and 1716, Relating to the Principles of Natural Philosophy and Re-
ligion, London, printed for James Knapton, MDCCXVII.
2 Clarke supplies the reference to Newton's Optics, Question 31. Irregularities in cometal
motion led Newton to ascribe loss of energy to collision and to suggest the possibility of a
time when "the present system of nature shall want to be anew put in order by its author".
8 The passage referred to is in Newton's Optics, Question 20.
4 Clarke's note refers to Theodicy, p. 396: "God, according to my opinion, is an extramundane
intelligence, as Martianus Capella styles him, or rather, a supramundane intelligence."
5 The clause "In the paper ... communicate to me" is lacking in Leibniz's manuscript, as are
the paragraph numbers, which were supplied by Clarke.
6 Leibniz: ont besoin de son influence continuelle.
7 Newton had already rejected the view that God is anima mundi in the famous scholium
ending the second edition of the Principia.
8 Leibniz wrote merely: leur capacite et bonne volonte.
S Clarke gives a reference to the Theodicv, pp.158 and 161.
10 cr. the Principia, scholium to Def. 8, from which Clarke quotes (Opera omnia, ed. Horsley
[1779], II, 8). Note the assumption that space is something really existent, which cannot be
divided without being moved.
11 Oarke here quotes the closing scholium to the Principia on God.
12 Leibniz's copy has the note: "Duplicate. Sent to the Princess of Wales, Feb. 25, 1716."
18 Leibniz's notion of metaphysics is thus more inclusive than his monadology but close to
Aristotle's science of first principles, including both essence and existence, and therefore the
phenomenal principle of causality. At the same time it is more sharply distinguished from
mathematics than in his first period, when he regarded number as a metaphysical ultimate.
The steps in this separation were, first, the subordination of mathematics to the universal
characteristic and, then, the separation of dynamics from geometry and phoronomy.
14 "A barbarism of the Scholastics, who sometimes ape the Greeks. The latter say i'1.I8'17:1jplOv,
from which the former make sensiterium, for sensorium, that is, for the organ of sensation."
Rudolf Goclenius (1547-1628) professor at Marburg, published the Lexicon philosophicum
quo tanquam clave philosophiae fores aperiuntur in 1613.
15 Clarke's example, assuming an indifference of spatial arrangements of the same elements,
runs counter, of course, to Leibniz's view that their spatial properties are intrinsic denomina-
tions of things and merely abstracted from their dynamic properties, a view which he had used
in his theory of relative force and motion. The fundamental difference in the two men's
approach, Clarke assuming the independence and ultimacy of spatial relations, Leibniz their
abstract and dependent nature, is never resolved.
18 Clarke's note: "This was occasioned by a passage in the private letter wherein Mr. Leib-
nitz's third paper came enclosed." (G. did not find this letter among the Leibniz papers.)
17 Leibniz, too, recognized a distinction between space and situation but regarded both as
subject to the same logical-phenomenological analysis and not as paralleling the distinction
between space and matter (see p. 540, note 7; p. 541, note 20; and p. 628, note 5; and
the definition of situs in No. 70).
18 Clarke notes: "God is omnipresent not only virtually but substantially, for powers cannot
subsist without a substance. Newton's Principia, general scholium at end."
19 Clarke notes: "The word active force signifies here nothing but motion, and the impetus or
relative impulsive force of bodies arising from and being proportional to their motion. For
the occasion of what has passed upon this head was the following passage." (Here Clarke
again quotes the passage from the last question of the Optics describing the diminution of
motion.)
20 Sentence omitted by Clarke: "I was right in quoting the philosophical dictionary of this
author to show the usual sense in which the word sensorium is taken; this is what dictionaries
are for."
21 Leibniz's copy adds: "and which they try to avoid in philosophizing".
22 Clarke again quotes the general scholium of Newton's Principia on God.
88 The reference is to Newton's account of the loss of motion in the collision of inelastic and
imperfectly elastic bodies; he infers the necessity, therefore, of active principles affecting matter
from without (somewhat in the tradition of Leibniz's own early arguments for mind) and
suggests that gravity may be such a principle. Active force and passive matter are therefore
mutually exclusive for Newton; for Leibniz they are two aspects offorce itself.
24 Clarke ends his letter with a note on Leibniz's postscript which G. omits: "N.B. The
arguments alleged in the postscript to Mr. Leibnitz's fourth paper have been already answered in
the foregoing replies. All that needs here to be observed is that his notion concerning theimpossi-
bility of physical atoms (for the question is not about mathematical atoms) is a manifest
absurdity. For either there are or there are not any perfectly solid particles of matter. If there
are such, then the parts of such perfectly solid particles, taken of equal figure and dimensions
(which is always possible in supposition), are physical atoms perfectly alike. But if there be
no such perfectly solid particles, then there is no matter at all in the universe. For the farther
the division and subdivision of the parts of any body is carried, before you arrive at parts
perfectly solid and without pores, the greater is the proportion of pores to solid matter in that
body. If therefore carrying on the division in infinitum, you never arrive at parts perfectly solid
and without pores, it will follow that all bodies consist of pores only, without any matter at
all; which is a manifest absurdity."
25 cr. Theodicy, Part III, Secs. 301-20.
26 The meaning of this paradoxical sentence is found in Leibniz's doctrine of freedom,
according to which the spontaneous (i.e., self-determined) act of a rational monad is entirely
consistent with the natural contingency (or temporal determinateness) of the world which God
has chosen as the best of all possible ones. Freedom in this sense is therefore entirely consistent
with God's election of each individual law as the best of all possible individuals within the
conditions of the entire contingent system (see No. 29).
27 cr. Theodicy, Part III, Sec. 310. Note that Leibniz does not here, like Kant, identify will
with practical reason.
28 These meanings offate are analyzed in the Preface to the Theodicy.
29 This is, of course, only an empirical consideration, not bearing directly on the principle as
applied to monads. But phenomenal relations imperfectly represent an infinity of real ones.
30 Clarke's solution of the old issue is Thomistic in the sense that this principle is matter;
Leibniz's, on the other hand, is an extension of Scotism in that individuality is the result of the
combination of a number of logical possibilities, themselves indeterminate, into a determinate
concept or notion.
31 The pragmatic way in which Leibniz uses the principle of sufficient reason, here and else-
where, is noteworthy. A theory like Newton's conception of gravitational force is 'imprac-
ticable' when it does not provide a sufficient reason for observable differences in facts or if it
provides a sufficient reason for supposed facts which contradict experience.
32 See Principia philosophiae, Part I, 26, 27.
33 Leibniz's correspondence with Guericke on vacuums and other problems is given in G.,
1,93-112.
34 The sentences in parentheses are in Leibniz's copy of the letter but are printed by Clarke as
footnotes.
35 Sections 36-48, particularly Sec. 47, give one of the clearest of Leibniz's analyses of the
relations of situation, space, and body, in terms both of Scholastic categories and of Leibniz's
own new relational analysis. In part it repeats, in part supplements, the logical analysis in the
preceding work (No. 70). The relational and abstract nature of space finds clear expression,
and the reader must not lose sight, not merely of the a priori nature of space, as formal
possibility demanding empirical content in order to determine existence, but also of its basis
in metaphysics and in the Leibnizian theory ofiogical form.
36 This reformulates, for spatial relations, Leibniz's doctrine of the intrinsic nature of all
denominations. There are no freely floating qualities and relations such as neorealism
held to.
37 For earlier analyses of the abstract nature of situation and space see Nos. 54, 62, and 63,
p. 540, note 7, and p. 628, note 3. Leibniz's derivation of space perception here may be
contrasted with Berkeley's in being, not psychological, but logical and existential, with an
empirical or 'phenomenological' test for the truly existent as opposed to the fictional reification
of abstractions with which he charges his opponents. The theory of space and situation is thus, on
the one hand, a more empirical and determinate application of the universal characteristic and
logic of relations and, on the other, an analysis of the forms constitutive of perception and of
their limitations.
The functional notation would have served Leibniz (as it would Euclid in the example
mentioned) to universalize his theory of the pragmatic nature of relations. The three interpreta-
tions of the relation between Land M would then be L=f(M}; M=f(L); andf(L,M} =0.
88 cr.New Essays, II, 14, Secs. 25-26.
89, 40 See note 34 above
41 This application of the principle of indiscernibility to phenomena brings Leibniz close to
Kant's phenomenalism, since possible experience is the decisive mark of existence. But Leibniz
would not have subordinated geometry and algebra to the forms of space and time, as did
Kant (cf. Sees. 54 and 129 below).
42 See p. 628, note 4.
43 The logarithm of a ratio, for example, can be expressed as the difference between the
logarithms of its two terms: log(a/b)=loga-Iogb.
44 Leibniz's fuller analysis of the possibilities regarding the beginning of the universe in time
are found in the letter to Bourguet, August 5, 1715 (No. 69, 11). Here as elsewhere, however,
merely logical considerations do not entirely determine existence (see note 47, below).
45 "As if a painter tried to join the neck of a horse to the head of a man."
46 O. has duratio for destructio.
47 Leibniz thus arrives at an assertion of a finite beginning.of creation on theological grounds
(Clarke's and his own beliefin uniform growth in perfection), not on logical.
48 Cicero De fato chap. xvii.
49 Leibniz here interprets the occasionalists as developing their view in correction of the
Scholastic doctrine of intentional species transmitted by the body to the soul. For the sources
see Thomas, Contra Gentiles i. 46; ii. 59; Summa theologica i. 85. 2, etc. (see p. 329, note 30).
50 The phrase in parentheses inserted by Clarke has no support in Leibniz's original; his sense
seems to have been: "and raises them to the highest level".
51 See the second reply to Bayle in 1702 (No. 60).
52 O.insertsavecchoix.
58 The words in parentheses are added by Clarke.
54 The transfer of energy from macromasses to their internal molecules is inferred by Leibniz
as a result ofthe conservation of force (see No. 46, I, for a fuller exposition, in relation to the
principle ofthe conservation of internal, relative force).
55 On the distinction between Leibniz's theory of inertia and Newton's see p. 539, note 3.
66 "To live on acorns when fruit has been discovered." Leibniz's criticism, here and in what
follows, of Newton's theory of gravitational attraction overlooks entirely Newton's clarification
in the closing scholium of his second edition and the sharp delineation which results between
the methods of physics and of metaphysics. Throughout the controversy Leibniz seems to be
conscious of the influence of Henry More upon Newton's earlier speculations. The view that
space is indivisible is traceable to him.
57 For Leibniz's appreciation of Robert Boyle (1626-91) see No. 52 and the New Essays, IV,
12, 13, where he expresses approval of Boyle's mechanistic principles but denies that they can
be established on the basis of experience alone (0., V, 437).
58 Cltflie (1656) waS written by Mile de Scudery; Aramena (1669), by Duke Anton Ulrich of
Brunswick-Wolfenbiittel, as whose librarian Leibniz served. Leibniz's perception of the change
of taste at the tum of the centuries was acute.
59 For Leibniz's theory of preformation see Nos. 58 and 60, and Introduction, Sec. VIII.
60 This empirical justification of the principle of sufficient reason, considered along with
Leibniz's rejection of the possibility of any 'pure' empiricism, is an instance of Leibniz's
twofold method, a posteriori and a priori.
61 Clarke's fifth reply, probably written after Leibniz's death, is here omitted.
INDEX
Academy, 8-9, 151, 153-54, 582; see also Anselm, St., 231, 234, 386
Skepticism Antitypy, 95, 101-102; see also Mass
Accident, 246, 600, 601-3, 605-6, 609, 621 Aphthonius of Antioch, 469, 471
- absolute, 602 Apollonius of Perga, 187,254, 383
- categoriai, 614 Apologetics, Christian, 109-20,259-62,
- and modification, 600, 606, 609; 614,617 303-330
- nonmodal, 600--1 Apperception, 22, 62, 553, 637, 642, 644;
Action, 271, 502-4, 511-12, 609 see a/so Reflection; Self-consciousness
- external, 503 Appetite, 38,101,504,537,636,644,662-63
- internal, 644 Aquinas, St. Thomas, 117, 274, 293, 308,
- and passion, 118-19, 269, 313, 448, 309, 342, 386, 454, 461, 653
511-12,520,530--31,533-34,623-24, Archeus, 309, 328, 409, 412, 441, 555, 587
647-48; see also Force Archimedes, 180, 187, 227, 236, 268, 341,
Addition 393, 468, 543, 677
- logical, 380--81 Architectonic, 479, 480, 484, 485; see also
- real and quantitative, 381 Optimum, principle of
Aesthetics, 48-49, 425-26, 428, 489-91, Aristotelians, 135, 188, 432, 436, 554-55,
565-66; see also Beauty 586; see a/so Aristotle
Affections, 76 Aristotle, 25, 37, 48, 60, 81, 93-104, 117,
- natural, 632-33, 634 124,126,127, 161,186,188-89,190,223,
Aggregates, 605, 614, 617 274,320--21,342,391,454,456,477.499.
Agricola, Rudolf, 127 554,571,593, 630, 631, 654-55, 677
Agrippa von Nettesheim, 101 - logic, 389, 465-66
Albertus Magnus, 342, 454 Arithmetic, 90, 92
Alchemy, 85, 124,249 Arithmetical machine, 274-75,474
Algebra, 76, 84, 166, 192, 193,233,248, Arnauld, Antoine, 6, 19, 60, 148-50, 210,
250,276,545-46 211, 212, 259-260, 271, 276, 291, 294,
Anagogical principle, 45,477, 484-85; see 303, 331-350, 359--62, 453, 460, 474, 579
also Mechanism, and teleology Art of characteristics; see Characteristic;
Analogy, 123, 284 Universal characteristic
Analysis situs, 248-258; see also Geometry, Art of combinations, 73-84, 84, 91, 173-75,
of situation 192-93, 222-23, 229-30, 657, 670, see
Analysis and synthesis, 20--21, 80, 88, also Logical calculus; Universal calculus
151-52,173-76,184-85,186--88,191, Art of Thinking, The, 60, 294, 465
182-93,226,229-34,234,236,264-65, Assistance, way of; see Occasionalism
282-86, 293, 540, 664, 673 Association, 40, 90, 638
- reductive, 233; see also Judgment - laws of, 86--87.
Anaxagoras, 96--97 Atheism, 50, 102, 109-10; 272-74, 633
Ancient philosophy; see Philosophy, Atomism, 112, 157-58,269-70,405-6,
ancient and modem 415-16, 420, 506, 599, 657, 691, 719
Andreae, Tobias, 94 Atoms; see Atomism
Angelus Silesius, 47, 425, 554, 594 Attention, 113, 384, 388
Animals; see Beasts Attila, 634
INDEX 723
Attributes, 160-61, 197-201,245,246, Bisterfeld, John Henry, 88, 91

284-87, 390, 411, 519, 526, 528, 620, 621 Bodenhausen, Baron, 359, 435
- simple, 205, 285, 525, 526; see also Bodies
Concepts - composite; see Substance, composite
Augustine, St., 38, 147, 322, 342, 582, 593, - as phenomenal, 330, 343, 600--1; see also
594,603 Body; Phenomenalism
Authorship, 631 - system of, 450
Averroes, 95, 117,321,425,554, 603 Bodin, Jean, 93, 102, 104
Averroists, 95, 321, 425, 560, 594; see also Body, 33-34, 75, 106, 109-12, 107, 116,
Averroes 140-41, 142-45, 165, 173-76, 210, 270,
Avicenna, 499 274,277-79,309-10,325-26,343-44,
Axioms, geometric, 383-84 360,365,392,440-42,444-45,503-4,
521-22,532-33,539,596-617,715
Bacon, Francis, 89, 93, 94, 109, 110, 124, - mathematical, 100, 535-36
152, 188,277,465,682 Body-soul relation, 39-40, 211, 269,
Bacon, John; see Baconthorpe, John 324-25,338-39,453-61,492-95,513-14,
Baconthorpe, John, 342, 454 517-18,556-57,574-81,593,649-50,
Barbarism, 223 686,689-90,710-12
Barometer, 474 Body-soul unity, 269, 339, 360, 539, 598
Barrow, Isaac, 419 Boehme, Jacob, 221
Bartholin, Erasmus, 76. Boileau, Nicolas, 659
Basnage de Beauval, Henri, 383, 416, 453, Boineburg, Baron von, 109, 121,259-60
513,586 Borelli, John Alphonso, 298, 439
Basso, Sebastian, 93, 127 Bosses, Bartholomew des, 597-617
Bayle, Pierre, 12, 56,212,453,492-97,513, Bossuet, Jacques Benigne, 6, 47, 259, 430
527-28, 559, 574-85, 586, 590, 644, 648, Boundary,95-96,141,668
711 Bourguet, Louis, 661-65
Beasts, 190,211,275-76, 342, 345-47, 455, Boyle, Robert, 94, 110, 165, 166,277,290,
512-13, 557-58, 588-89, 638, 644, 645 498,499,508,715,720
Beatific vision, 109, 154, 559, 641 Brachistochrone, 477, 478, 485
Beauty, 137, 425-26, 428, 479, 489-91, Brain, 565
552-53,565-66,641 Brief Demonstration of a Notable Error of
Becher, Johann Joachim, 58, 249, 258 Descartes, etc., A, 296-302
Bede, St. 115 Brunswick, House of, history of, 359
Being, 89, 242, 363, 549; see also Substance Burnet, Gilbert 656
- law of, 24 Burnet, Thomas, 356, 629
- most perfect; see Ontological argument
- and nonbeing, 367-68 Caesar, Gaius Julius, 569
Berkeley, George, 609, 514, 616 Calculus
Bernier, Nicolas, 472 - differential and integral, 59, 61, 191, 361,
Bernoulli, James, 417, 511, 542 417, 419, 420, 474, 475, 542-43, 655-56
Bernoulli, John, 383,417,477,511-14, - logical; see Logical calculus
523, 538, 542 - mathematical, 191
Best possible, principle of, 27, 45, 157, Campanella, Tommaso, 93, 100-101, 104
209-10,217-19,304-6,328,333-34,513, Campensis, Claudius, 81
659,664; see also Optimum, principle of Cardan, Jerome, 75, 78-79, 93, 193, 466
Biel, Gabriel, 128, 342 Caroline, princess of Wales, 356, 658, 675,
Bignon, Jean Paul, 475, 476 677
Billettes, Giles Fillieau des, 211, 472-76 Cartesians, 33, 34, 94, 177-81, 188, 190,
Binary numbers, 59 274,275,298,333,494-95,512,521,522,
Biology, 35-37, 186,282,316,317,345-46, 526,527,532,536,578,588,619-20,637;
455, 557-58; see also Beasts see also Descartes, Rene
724 INDEX
Cartesius, Renatus; see Descartes, Rene Colors, 484

Casuistry, legal, 82 Combinations; see Art of combinations
Casuists, 215 Comenius, John Amos, 90, 389
Categories, 229, 464-65 Commercium epistolicum, 675
Catelan, Abbe, 210, 212, 296, 348, 351,542, Common sense, 548, 602, 631
659 Complexions; see Art of combinations
Catholic Demonstrations, 49-51, 109-20, Component terms, 372
148, 173, 259--62, 277, 303 Composition and division, 243-44, 372
Causality, 26-27, 35, 75, 89, 129, 153, - of conatuses, 142
173-76,201,208,268-69,279-87, Compossibility, 169, 266, 661-62
312-13, 321, 365, 588, 637, 680 Conatus, 16, 17, 32, 107, 108, 140-42,
Cause, see Causality 144-45,149,279,299,435,437,473,609;
Cavalieri, Francesco Bonaventura, 8, 140, see also Impetus
144, 584 Concepts, 318-21, 518-20, 522, 549; see
Certainty, 122, 153-54,283-84, 383 also Ideas; Terms
- moral and metaphysical, 129-30, 364-65 - complete versus partial, 24, 268-69,
Chance, 708; see also Indifference 307-8, 332-35, 348-49, 529, 708
Change, 96-97, 519, 521, 531, 532-33, 538, - distinct and confused, 178-80, 230--31,
643-44 285-87,292,389,525
Character, 21, 164, 183-85, 192-93, 208 - obscure and clear, 291-92
Characteristic, 21, 192-93,221-28,248-49, - perfect; see Concepts, complete versus
249-50,261-62,273-74,371-82 partial
- geometrical 248-58; see also Universal - primary and derivative, 91, 230--31, 292
characteristic - simple and complex; see Terms, simple
Characteristic numbers, 221-25, 235-36, and complex
238-40 Concomitance, 269, 336-38, 340, 458
Charity; see Love Concrete and abstract, 529, 620--21; see
Chemistry, 97, 173-76 also Concepts, complete versus partial;
Chevreuse, Due de, 249 Ideal and real
Christina, queen of Sweden, 554 c;on/ession 0/ Nature against Atheists, The,
Church, 213-15, 260 50, 102, 109-13
- unification of, 259--62 Congregation for the Propagation of the
Cicero, 99, 136, 570 Faith,262
City of God, 347-48, 458, 640, 651-52; see Congruence, 135,251-53,258,363-64
also Grace, kingdom of Conring, Herman, 95, 96, 103, 186-91
Claim, legal versus moral, 422-23 Conscience, 135-36
Clarity, 121-23; see also Clear and distinct Consciousness, 161, 671
Clarke, Samuel, 32, 94, 663, 675-721 Consensus; see Body-soul relation;
Clauberg, Johann, 94 Harmony
Clavius, Christopher, 79 Conservation
Clear and distinct, 287, 291-92, 293-94, - of force; see Force, conservation of
318-19,389; see also Concepts; Ideas - principle of, 27, 296-302, 314-15
Clerselier, Claude de, 94 - of quantity of motion; see Quantity, of
Cluver, Philipp, 544 motion, conservation of
Cocceius, John, 227 Considerations on Vital Principles and
Codex juris gentium diplomaticus, Preface of, Plastic Natures (1705), 586-91
421-24,567,594 Consistency, 153-54, 351
Coherence, 363-64 Constance, Council of, 58
Cohesion, 106-7, 112, 141, 148, 403-9 Contained-containing; see Inclusion
Coincident terms, 237, 371-72 Contarini, Casparo Cardinal, 554
Cointegrant terms, 379 Contingency, 203-4, 263-66, 268, 310--11,
Colbert, Jean Baptiste, 249 328-29,487,697
INDEX 725
Contingent truths, 263-66; see also Truths, 291,292, 339-40, 342, 352, 432-33, 439,
of faltt; Truths, necessary and contingent 447, 452, 468, 473, 522, 537, 613, 655,
Continuity, 315, 412, 447, 521, 544, 658, 657, 663, 701
671; see also Continuum - conservation of quantity of motion,
- principle of, 30--31,271, 351-54, 354, 296-302, 352, 393-95, 443-44, 587,
397-403, 446-48, 484, 515-16, 521, 539, 655
546, 573, 583, 670 - demonstration of existence of God,
Continuum, 96, 139-42, 158,264,270,608, 143-45,154,168,180,211,231,292
656 - laws of motion, 274, 352, 396-403, 408,
Contradiction, principle of, 225, 646 448
Conversation of Philarete and Ariste (ca. - ontological argument, 143-45,211,
1711),618-28 386-87
Cooper, Anthony Ashley; see Shaftesbury, - optics, 480
third Earl of - Principles of Philosophy, 383-412, 416,
Copernicus, 419, 450 419
Cordemoi, Gerauld de, 270, 343, 456, 502 - voluntarism, 181, 387-89, 647; see also
Corpuscular philosophy, 93-104, 110,290, Cartesians
338,349, 353,451,478,496 Deschales, Claude, 298, 439
Cosmography, 90 Determinants, 258
Cosmological argument, 50,73-74, Determinism, 146-47, 179-80, 322-23,
486-87, 565-66, 587 331-50; see also Necessity
Coste, Pierre, 356, 629, 654 Digby, Kenelm, 93, 94, 97, 103, 110
Couturat, Louis, 23, 267 Diophantus, 248
Creation, 97, 331-36, 486-91, 500--1, 597, Dioptrics; see Optics
598, 664, 691, 706-8, 720; see also Best Discourse on Metaphysics, 303-30
possible, principle of Discovery; see Invention
Criterion of truth; see Truth, criterion of Disparate terms, 238, 245, 372, 379-81
Cryptography, 188, 192, 283 Disposition, 78, 95, 323, 698-99
Cudworth, Ralph, 586, 589, 590 Disputation, 224, 466-67
Cycloid, 142 Distance, 666-67, 671
Ditton, Humphrey, 663
Dalesme, Andre, 472 Diverse terms, 245, 371
De diaeta, 342, 456 Doubt, Cartesian, 383-84
De Witt, Jan, 584 Dreams, 113-15, 119, 153-54,557,640
Death, 345-46, 514, 557-58, 638; see also Dreier, Christian, 95
Immortality Du Cange, Sieur, 359
Deduction, 20 Duns Scotus, John, 60, 120, 128
Deferent, 361, 415 Durr, Johann Conrad, 95
Definition, 25, 122-23, 133, 183, 187, 194, Duty, 48
197, 230--32, 245, 246, 267, 292-93, 319, Dynamics, 139-45, 296-302, 359, 360,
511,519 413-20,435-452,459,625
Deism, 676 Dynamism, 16, 19; see also Force
Democritus, 112, 188, 435, 558, 593, 623,
677 Eckhard, Arnold, 177-81, 190
Demonstration, 133-34, 138, 177, 187,232, Education, 85-92
383-84,465-67,668 Ego, 39, 325, 335, 456, 549, 593, 619, 638,
Denominations, 268, 365, 464, 500, 526-27, 646; see also Apperception; Reflection;
643,719 Selfconsciousness
Denores, Jason, 95 Egoism, 47, 134,424-25
Descartes, Rene, 36,42, 76, 88, 91, 93-94, Elastic force, 279, 350, 397, 446-47, 448.
107, 110, 139, 152-54, 165, 188-90, 473, 506, 718-19
210--12, 223, 254, 261, 263, 264, 272-74, Election. 323-24
726 INDEX
Elegance, 121-22 327, 337-38, 339-41, 365, 457-58, 531;

Elementa de mente, 37, 105, 107, 149, 165 see also Perception; Representation
Elementa physicae, 277-290 Extension, 143-45, 270, 390, 392-93, 516,
Elements, physical, 75, 81 518-19,525,527,601,607,619-22,667;
Elements 0/ Calculus, 235-240 see also Space
Elements 0/ Natural Law, 131-38, 150 Extremum, principle of; see Optimum,
Elements of Natural Science, On the; see principle of
Elementa physicae Extrinsic denominations, 268, 271, 365,
Elizabeth, Countess Palatine, 209 432, 500, 505; see also Denominations
Eloquence, 132
Emanation, 311, 312, 324 Fabri, Honoratius, 298, 439, 613
Empiricism, 153-54, 547-551, 645 Faith, 369
Encyclopedia, 221, 277 Fardella, Michelangelo, 359
Entelechy, 522, 529, 576-77, 644; see also Fate, 146, 697
Force, primitive and derivative; Souls; Fatio de Duillier, 417, 420
Substantial form Feeling, 38, 325,340-41,492-94
Enthusiasm, 592-95, 629 Felden, Johann von, 48, 95, 421, 428-30,
Epicurus, 99, 112, 577-78, 677, 680, 708, 431
717 Fenelon, Francois, 47, 328, 425, 431
Epistemology, 18, 41-44, 151-56, 161-62, Fermat, Pierre de, 165, 248, 318, 479, 584
182-85,207-8, 291-95, 363-66, 547-51, Fernel, Jean, 342
626-27 Fictions, 543, 552, 604
Equality, 667; see also Equipollence Figure, 95-96, 110,254,270,278,505
Equilibrium, 698 Filmer, Robert, 572, 573
Equipollence, 205, 227, 279,296-301, Final causes, 477-79, 651; see also
442-43,445 Mechanism, and teleology
Equity, 422, 568-69 Firmness, 111,403-9,415-16,449
Equivalence; see Equipollence First philosophy; see Metaphysics
Erasmus, Desiderius, 469, 471 First truths, 74, 225-27, 228, 234, 267-71,
Ernest August, Duke of Hanover, 272 385
Ernest of Hesse-Rheinfels, Landgrave, 7, Fitness, principle of, 76, 640, 647; see also
259, 303, 331 Best possible, principle of
Error, 44, 292, 384-86, 387-88, 391, 611; Fludd, Robert, 409, 412, 441, 502, 663, 665
see also Truth, and falsity Fluidity; see Firmness; Fluids
Essence and existence, 203-4, 664 Fluids, 403-8
Eternity, 705 Fontenelle, Bernard de, 456
Ethics, 46-49, 75-76, 89, 131-38, 150, 360, Force, 32, 33, 92, 155, 221, 276, 279, 301,
421-31,561-73,593-94,630-35 360,361,393,433,434,435,444-50,451,
Eucharist, 109,596,600-1,614-15; see also 501-2, 503-5, 516, 537, 624, 712
Transsubstantiation - active, 433, 436-37, 517, 528, 609, 686,
Euclid, 82, 142, 153, 187, 193,230,236,248, 718
254,258,294,383-84,391,410,486 - conservation of, 33, 296-302,314-15,
Eugene of Savoy, Prince, 59, 356, 636, 654 393-95, 443-44, 499, 639, 676, 713
Evil, 49, 51, 147,211,217-18,265,322-23, - dead and living, 299, 438-39, 512
489-91,513,582,659 - passive, 437; see also Force, active;
- moral, 307, 567-68, 630-31, 662 Matter
Evolution, 37, 513 - primitive and derivative, 341, 436-37,
Exigence, 487, 600, 601 514, 529, 533-34
Existence, 91, 158, 163,205,363-64 - violent and harmless, 442
- law of, 26 Forge, Louis de la, 502, 508
Experiment, 173-76,282-84 Forms, 160--61, 162-63, 269, 271, 511-12;
Expression, 198, 203, 207-8, 242, 269, 312, sf;e also Ideas; Substantial forms; Terms
INDEX 727
- simple, 160; see also Qualities, primary 52, 679; see also Nature, kingdom of
Formulas, 193, 233 Gravity, 361, 414-15, 417-18, 473, 513, 663,
Foucher, Simon, 151-56,453,582 696, 701-2, 716
Fracastori, Girolamo, 93 Great Britain, 631, 634
Freedom,27-28,40-41,52-53,146-47,211, Gregory of Rimini, 128
214,263-66,280,321-22,324,384, Gregory of St. Vincent, 130
388-89,503,696-97,712,719 Grotius, Hugo, 6, 58, 59, 75-76, 84,469
Fromond, Libertus, 60, 159 Guericke, Otto von, 94, 103,701
Function, mathematical, 29-31, 60, 579 Guyon, Mme, 328
Future, 310-11, 360, 513
Habit, 85-88, 645
Gabets, Dom Robert des, 151, 154-55 Hamel, Jean Baptiste du, 94
Galen, 81 Hansch, Michael Gottlieb, 592-97
- hynm of, 280, 479 Happiness, 131,219,306,327,424-25
Galilei, Galileo, 93,110,153,188,259,273, Harmony,I4-17,76,112,138,141,146,157-
301,302,393,439,469-70 58,311-12,425-26,489-91,565-67,569,
Gallois, Abbe, 167, 542, 544 640,648-49,652,658-59,711-12
Games, 61,472,487,584 - pre-established, 457, 460, 461, 492-95,
Gassendi, Pierre, 93, 94,110,112,152,290, 574-81, 586-88, 599, 610, 612, 637, 651,
450, 579, 584, 657, 663 679, 694-95, 710-12
General Characteristic, On the; see Hartsoeker, Niklaas, 455, 461, 628, 657, 658
Universal characteristic Harvey, William, 36
General science, 21-23, 60 Hedonism, 46-47, 630
Genus-species, 237, 246 Heereboord, Adrian, 94
Geometry,90,92,98-99,148-49,274,278, Hegel, G. W. F., 56-57
383-84, 666-74; see also Characteristic, HeImont, Franciscus Mercurius von, 508,
geometrical 589,591,631-32
- of situation, 193, 248-58, 361 Helmont, Jean Baptiste, 328
Geopolitics, 59 Hermann, Jacob, 542
German language, 125 Herrenhausen, 13-14
Geulincx, Arnold, 461 Heterogeneity, 238; see also Homogeneity
Gilbert, William, 94 Hippocrates, 342, 499
Glanville, Joseph, 93, 103, 221 History, 88-89, 131,290,421,491,660,664
Goc1enius, Rudolph, 683, 686, 689 - of House of Brunswick, 359
God,45, 50-52,138,158-60,163-64,197- Hobbes, Thomas, 37, 82, 85, 88, 93, 94,
206, 280, 283, 294, 301-330,346-48, 105-8, 110, 114, 126, 128, 130, 161, 182,
360, 367-69, 488, 489, 507, 552-53, 183, 231, 258, 273, 397, 501, 562, 569,
561-73, 580, 639, 646-48, 678-79, 683- 571, 577, 588, 630, 631, 677
84,702-3 Hoghelande, Cornelius von, 94
- arguments for existence of, 50-52, 73-74, Homme honnete; see Honor, man of
109-12, 200-201, 211, 275, 341, 386-87, Homogeneity, 278, 286, 443, 666, 668,
486-87,587,711 672; see also Heterogeneity
- foreknowledge of, 322-23, 681, 696 - of bodies, 394
- immensity and eternity of, 714 Homogony, 666, 668
- vision of, 305, 627; see also Beatific vision Honor (honestas), 48, 136,423,570
- will of, 303-4, 305-6, 500-1, 561, 647-48, - man of, 3, 9, 14, 58, 213, 426-28, 631
683, 685-86, 709 Hontan, Baron de la, 7
Goeckel, Rudolf; see Goclenius, Rudolph, Hooke, Robert, 96
Goodness, 134,561-62,564 Hospital, Marquis de 1', 417, 435, 474,
Grace, 305-6, 323-24, 368-69 542,584
- kingdom of, 46, 53,218, 327-28, 346-48, Hudde, Jean, 249, 584
409-10,442,478-79,588,590,641,651- Huet, Pierre Daniel, 275, 276, 463, 471
728 INDEX
Hugony, Charles, 656 360,535, 652; see also Individuation

Humanities, 464 principle of
Hume, David, 56 - as series, 360, 533, 534, 577
Humor, 629 Individuality, 17-19, 203, 268-69, 307-9,
Huygens, Christian, 139, 151,248-49,301, 331-35,360,530-31,534,554-60,581-82,
413-20,419,439,452,459,465,542,655 586--90
- De ludo aleae, 472, 584 Individuation, principle of, 117, 120, 700,
Hylarchic principle, 441, 499, 587 719
Hypotheses, equivalence of, 445, 459 Induction, 129-30, 234, 284, 550
Hypothesis, 73, 83, 100, 133, 188, 231, Inertia, 437, 503-4, 516--17, 539, 647, 659,
283-84, 458, 493, 514, 515, 527 713
Infallibility and contingency, 263-66; see
Iceland spar, 413, 485 also Contingency; Necessity
Idea; see Ideas Infinite, 30-31, 75, 159, 167--68, 264-65,
Ideal and real, 539, 543-44, 704-5 351, 387, 511-14, 541, 542-44, 555,
Idealism, 578 626--27,649,669,693
Ideas, 15-19,118-19, 120,154-55,163,204, Infinitesimals, 511, 514, 542-46, 583-84
207-8,291-95,318-321,344,386-87, Infinity; see Infinite
517-18,520,625-27,646,710 Influence, 75, 83, 126,269,453-60
- operative, 100 Ingredience; see Inclusion; Subject-
Identities; see Identity predicate inclusion
Identity, 23-24, 163, 187,225-26,677-78 Initia et specimina scienfiae generalis, 221
- of indiscemibles, 268, 308, 505-6, 643, Innate ideas, 593
687, 692, 699-700 Innocent XI, Pope, 259, 262
- personal, 39, 162, 349; see also Self- Instruments, scientific, 131, 174, 175
awareness; Self-consciousness; Self- Intellect, 204, 549-50, 554, 556
knowledge Intension and extension, logical, 237-38,
- principle of, 45,225-26,267, 677-78 247,379
Imaginary numbers, 511, 543 Intensity, 86--87, 177
Imagination, 89, 91, 161,478,522,548-49, Intentional species, 320, 710, 716, 720; see
553,645 also Species, sensible
Immensity, 159, 163, 164,685,702,703; see Interaction, 338,494,534,613,694-95,710;
also Space see also Influence
Immortality, 53,113,162, 169,270,326-27, Interest, 630
337, 455, 556--57, 564-65, 588-89, 594, Internal sense, 548
638,650 Intuition, 120,292,593,607; see also Know-
Impact, 111-12,269,278,349-50 ledge, intuitive or symbolic
- laws of, 142,302, 352, 396-403, 411-12, Invention, 88, 281-83, 463-65
447-49 - and judgment, 80, 88, 126--27, 229-34
Impenetrability, 95, 100,517; see also Ives, Father, 657
Firmness Izquierdo, Sebastian, 604
Impetus, 299-301, 437, 450
Impossibility, 319 Jagodinski, Ivan, 157
Inclination, 227, 696--97 Jansen, Comelis, 603, 616
Inclusion, 236--37, 372-74, 379-80,668; see Jansenists, 148,214,474,603,659; see also
also Subject-predicate inclusion Jansen, Comelis
Indians, American, 630, 634 Jaquelot, Isaac, 712
Indifference, 322, 337, 687 Jesuits, 213-16, 261, 274, 359, 659
Indiscernibles; see Identity, ofindiscemibles Jesus Christ, 214--16, 327
Individual Joan, Popess, 597, 615
- concept, 307-8, 309-10, 331-35 John Frederick, Duke of Brunswick, 259-62
- law of, 17, 30, 39, 155, 309-11, 331-35, Joy, 425, 492; see also Pleasure
INDBX 729
Judgment, 465-67; see also Invention, and - philosophical infil.1ence, 56-58

judgment Leucippus, 112
Julian, Emperor, 634 Liberty; see Freedom
Jung, Joachim, 95, 124, 130, 223, 227, 290, Life, 637; see also Organism; Vitalism
468 Light,473
Jurieu, Pierre, 679 - inner, 367
Jurisprudence, 82, 85-92, 106, 131-38, - natural, 549-51; see also Intellect
149-50,421-24,561-73 Line, 668
Justel, Henri, 195, 359 - straight, see Straight line
Justice, 47, 75-76, 106, 133-38, 149-50,360, Lipsius, Justus, 85, 90
421-24, 561-73, 640 Locality; see Situs
- principle of, 348, 490, 670; see also Loci; see Locus
Harmony Locke,John,12,56,547,554,593,631,632,
656, 657, 675, 676
Kant, Immanuel, 56, 329, 410 Locus, 88,251-53,668-73
Kepler, Johannes, 301, 393, 395, 473 Logic, 23-28, 73-84, 126-27, 160-61,
Kircher, Athanasius, 230, 234 221-28,229-47,260,371-82,389,404,
Knowledge, 18,41-44, 151-56,291-95, 462-71
318-19,363-66,689; see also Concepts; - and metaphysics, 23-28, 126-27,267-71
Epistemology; Truth Logical calculus, 25-26, 235-47, 371-82,
- adequate or inadequate, 42, 291-92 463-64
- finite, 599 Logistics, 254
- intuitive or symbolic, 232, 291-92, 319 Love, 135-37, 150,213-16,219,280, 305,
- of other minds, 365, 612, 613 360,368,421-24,641.652
- disinterested, 133-34,424-25, 430, 594,
La Chaise, Fran90is d'Aix de, 273-75, 276 630, 632-33, 635
Laboratories, 282 Lucretius, 112
Labyrinths, 27, 159,264,309 LulIy, Raymond, 82, 88,91,230,657
Lami, Dom Francis, 453, 585 LUlla Fixa, 237
Language, 121-30, 193,221 Luther, Martin, 128
- universal, 654
Lasser, Herman Andrew, 6, 85, 131 Mabillon, Jean, 359
Lavintheta, Bernard, 82 Machines, natural and artificial, 456,
Law, 6,47, 81,422-25, 564 574-76,637,649, 677-79, 690; see also
- of the indefinite series; see Individual, as Mechanism
series Magnenus, John Chrysostum, 112
- natural and moral, 423-24,716-17 Magnetism, 75, 415, 473-74
positive divine, 424 Magnitude, 110,249,254
Laws Malebranche, Nicolas, 151, 154-55,207,
- of motion, Cartesian; see Descartes, 209-12, 276, 291, 294, 295, 344, 351,
laws of motion 352-53, 448, 455, 457, 463, 502, 532,
- of nature, 144, 306-7, 477-78, 494-95, 555, 593, 618-28, 658, 678; see also
499-502 Occasionalism
Le Clerc, Jean, 586 Malpighi, MarceIlo, 344, 350, 455, 560
Learning, 87-88 Mandates, 81
Leeuwenhoek, Anton van, 36, 345, 350, Manicheism, 583
455, 560, 566 Mantissa codicis juris gentium, 424-25
Leibniz, Gottfried Wilhelm von Marci, Marcus, 100-101, 104,439
- autobiographical, 152-53, 222-23, 229, Marinus of Neopolis, 254
259-60, 440-41, 453-57, 462-65, 654-55 Mariotte, Edmonde, 248, 439, 447
- life and works, 4-13 Masham, Lady, 356, 591
- philosophical inconsistencies, 54-56 Mass, 95, 101, 103,296,451, 503, 598,
730 INDEX
701-2; see a/so Matter, primary and Method/or Distinguishing Real/rom

secondary Imaginary Phenomena, On the, 363-66
Materia prima; see Matter, primary and Middle science, 27, 61, 266
secondary Mind, 88, 107, 113, 116-18, 141, 149, 160,
Materialism, 501-2, 551-53, 577, 587-88, 161-62,210,454,535; see also Spirit
623-24,676,677,680; see a/so Atomism Mind-body problem; see Body-soul
Mathematics, 28-31, 76-77, 89-90, 98-99, relation
189,261,273-74,535,542--46,584, Mind-body unity; see Body-soul unity
666-74, 677-78, 682 Minds, other, 365
- and metaphysics, 28-31, 76-77, 98-99, Miracle, 306-7, 313,494,497,578,625,
261, 289, 513, 529, 542--43, 583-84, 592, 684, 686-8, 690, 695, 714-15
666-74, 677-78, 682 Mirandola, John Pico of; see Pico della
Matter, 100, 158, 342--43, 350, 503--4, 517, Mirandola, Giovanni
529, 597, 659, 701-2 Missionaries, 225, 262
- primary and secondary, 17, 33, 95-96, Mnemonics, 88
350, 366, 437, 451, 504, 508, 511, 598, Modem philosophy; see Philosophy,
615 ancient and modem
Maxima and minima, 478-79, 487-88 Modes, 203, 390, 524-25, 528-29, 532-33,
Maximum, principle of, 477-85, 667; see 608,617, 624
a/so Optimum, principle of Modifications; see Modes
Measurement, 249, 256, 468, 667, 669-70 Molanus, Gerhard, 177
Mechanism, 109-10, 173, 189-90,217, Molina, Luis, 61
275-76,456,499,574-76,624, 655; see Molinos, Miguel de, 328, 425, 554
a/so Machines, natural and artificial Molyneux, William, Dioptrics, 442, 479,
- organic, 189-90,275-76,529-31 500, 656, 657
- and teleology, 35, 44-46, 189-90, 273, Momentum; see Quantity, of motion, con-
288-89, 290, 315-18, 338, 347--48, 353, servation of
409-10,441--42,472-73,477-85,588, Monadology, The (1714),60,643-53
655,715-16 Monads, 45, 62, 503, 504, 508, 521, 534,
Medicine, 132, 191,274,282,417,474,632 539, 579, 603-5, 636-37, 643-53, 663
Meditations on Knowledge, Truth, and - dominant, 531, 580, 604-5, 617; see also
Ideas, 291-95 Entelechy; Souls
Melissus, 342, 456 - as series; see Individual, as series
Memory, 113-15, 141, 155, 160-61,325-6, Monism, 532, 554-55
337,384,637,645.653 Moral certainty; see Certainty
Menochius, Jacob, 82 More, Henry, 342,441,452, 499, 555, 655
Mercenarius, Angelus, 117 Morland, Sir Samuel, 298
Mere, Chevalier de, 475, 584 Motion, 32, 73-74, 96-104, 111-13,
Mersenne, Marin, 282, 302, 433, 663 139--42, 148-50, 278, 341, 445--46, 505,
Metamorphosis; see Transformation 533,668
Metaphysical Foundations 0/ Mathematics, -laws of, 144,274, 301-2, 352, 396--403,
The (after 1714), 666-74 412,459
Metaphysics, 13-19,44--46,76-77,260, - relativity or absoluteness of, 393, 418,
267-71,303-30,432-34,453-61,472-73, 419,420,445--46,448-50,459,693
492-97, 498-508, 511, 515--41, 554-55, Motives, 570, 697, 698
586-89, 596-617, 636--42, 643-53, 655, Multiplication, logical, 235; see also
661-65, 666-74, 675-721, 718; see also Addition, logical
Logic, and metaphysics; Mathematics, Murcia, Francesco, 117
and metaphysics Music, 48--49, 425-26, 490, 641
Metempsychosis, 455, 658 Mysticism, 49, 367-70,424,593, 594
Method, 19-23, 88, 133, 173-76, 186-91,
229-34, 277-90 Napier, John, 275
INDEX 731
Natural law, 106, 131-38,421-25,428-30, Optics, 248,317-18,479-83

630 Optimism, 131-32, 147, 216-20, 322-28,
Natural right; see Natural law 489-91; see also Pessimism
Natural science, 173-76, 277-290, 296-302, Optimum, principle of, 61,217-19, 304-6,
566,638 308,477-79,487-88; see also Best
- utility, 131-32,273-75, 277-281 possible, principle of
Naturalism, 49, 102; see also Nature Order, principle of, 77, 184-85,348,
Nature, 62, 142, 166, 198,498-508, 566, 351-52, 381, 495, 496, 515-16, 521, 557,
621,630,632,634,664 565
- and art, 499 Organ, musical, 81-82
- kingdom of, 409-10, 442, 478-79, 588, Organism, 35-36, 343-44, 347, 637, 638
590, 651; see also Grace, kingdom of Origenists, 583
- laws of; see Laws, of nature Ovid,86
Nature Itself, On (1698), 498-508
Naude, Gabriel, 102, 555 Papin, Denis, 296, 471, 474
Necessary truths; see Truths, necessary Pappus, 254
and contingent Paracelsus, 328, 412
Necessity, 152, 185, 187, 203, 205, 226-27, Parallelism; see Body-soul relation
331,664,691,696-97 Pardies, Ignatius Baptista, 439
- metaphysical, 488-89 Paris Notes, 157-64
- metaphysical versus moral, 696-97, Parmenides, 342, 343, 456
709-10 Parsimony, principle of, 128
- physical or hypothetical, 488-89, 696 Part-whole, 73, 76-77, 83, 379, 534,
Negative truths; see Truths, negative 664-65, 668; see also Inclusion
New Method of Learning and Teaching Pascal, Blaise, 165, 275, 276, 294, 298, 474,
Jurisprudence, A, 85-92, 186 476, 584, 656
New Physical Hypothesis, 139, 148,440, 516 Passions, 632
New System of the Nature and the com- Passivity; see Action, and passion
munication of Substances, A (1695), Path, mathematical, 668
453-61, 492, 574 Peirce, Charles S., 57
Newton, Sir Isaac, 12, 355, 413, 415, 417, Pellisson-Fontanier, Paul, 6, 475
418,419,473,513,663,675-721 Penn, William, 369
Nicole, Pierre, 60, 474 Perception, 38-39, 41, 62, 91-92, 119,
Nieuwentijt, Bernard, 542, 544 160--61, 161-62,271,279,292,339-41,
Nijmegen, Treaty of, 259 344,456,496,513,537,552,580-81,
Nizolius, Marius, 93, 121-30, 133 586, 610, 611, 625-26,636-37, 644,
Nominalism, 127-30 662-63,671,678,680,683,710-11
Number, 76-77, 84, 92, 221, 664 - unconscious or petit, 557, 587, 644
Perfection, 45, 167-68, 177,218-20,303-6,
Obedience 367,424-26,489-90,523,569-70,640,
- external and internal, 260 646-47; see also Attributes
- passive and active, 59, 260 Perier, Antoine Scipion, 474, 476, 656
Obligation, 137,630 Perier, Casimir Pierre, 474, 476, 656
Occam, William of, 128 Permutation; see Variation
Occasionalism, 269,321-22,338,340, Personality, 39, 347, 552
444-45,450,457,460,494,506-7,532, Perspectives, 97, 103, 312, 468, 648
580, 587, 624, 720 Pessimism, 216-217; see also Optimism
Ocellus Lucanus, 81 Peter I, czar of Russia, 609
Oldenburg, Henry, 165-66,419 Phenomenalism, 142-45,232,270,343,
Ontological argument, 52. 143-45, 157, 363-66,390-91,445-46,496,530,531,
165-66,167-68,169,177-180,231, 600,601-2,604,623,659
292-93,385-86,647,653 Philipp, Christian, 272-73, 276
732 INDEX
Philoponus, 342 Predicate, 621; see also Subject-predicate

Philosophy inclusion
- ancient and modem, 93-104, 124-25, Preformation, 36-37, 455, 589, 638, 650,
188-90,261 715
- history of, 93, 496-97, 592-93, 680 Prestet, Jean, 210, 212
- terminology of, 124-26 Primary matter; see Matter, primary
Phoronomy, 139-42, 145 Primary truths; see Truths, primary
Phosphorus, 176, 249, 277, 289-90 Primitive concepts; see Concepts, primary
Physics, 31-35, 75, 90, 93-104, 139-45, and derivative
274, 296-302, 352-53, 360, 391-412, Principles of Nature and of Grace, The
435-52,450-51; see also Natural (1714), 59, 636-42
science Probability, 61, 260, 283-85, 364-65, 389,
Piccart, Michel, 95 467, 584, 654; see also Certainty, moral
Pico della Mirandola, Giovanni, 127 and metaphysical
Piety, 214-16, 423, 570 Probity; see Piety
Placcius, Vincent, 12-13, 465, 471 Proclus, 383, 384
Place, 703-4; see also Locus Progress, 37,436,491,664
Plane, 672-73 Property, 245-46
Plants, 344, 664 Proportion, 265-66; see also Ratio
Plastic natures, 101, 586-91 Proposition, 24, 82, 88-89, 187-88,225-26,
Plato, 76, 118, 151, 155,272,316,320,343, 235, 236-37, 240-42; see also Subject-
432, 436, 477, 562, 592-95, 654-55, 659, predicate inclusion
677 - hypothetical, 151-52
- Phaedo, 272, 276, 316, 353, 549, 579 - necessary and contingent, 74-75,
Platonism, 367,432,496, 549, 555, 592-95, 88-89, 152-53, 311; see also Truths,
633 necessary and contingent
Pleasure, 136-37, 425, 569-70, 579 - negative; see Truths, negative
- and pain, 141, 177,492-94 Protagaea, 37
Plenitude, 157-58, 347, 579, 636 Providence, 217-20, 565-66, 679
Plenum, principle of; see Plenitude Prudence, 133-34; see also Justice
Plotinus, 592, 655 Psychology, 37-41, 61, 62, 89, 159-62
Plus ultra, 221, 229 - of learning, 85-88
Pneumatics, 89; see also Psychology Pythagoras, 221, 477, 496, 555, 589, 592,
Point, 140, 145, 253, 456, 669 677
- metaphysical, 456, 460, 461, 599; see also Pythagoreans; see Pythagoras
Monads
Poiret, Pierre, 647, 662 Qualities
Politics, 132, 260-61, 630 - intelligible and sensible, 89, 277
Pomponatius, Petrus, 554 - primary, 75, 81, 110, 167-68
Porphyry, 464-65 - sense, 89,101,110, 161, 189, 547-49,580
Possibility, 152, 159,231,263,324-25,329, Quality, 233, 277, 287-88, 290, 667, 673
336-37,488-89,513 Quantity, 233, 667
- and actuality, 177, 273, 333, 583-84, - of motion, conservation of, 290,296-302,
661-62 314-15, 393-95,411,437, 499-500
- and existence 143-45, 147, 157-58, 168, - and quality, 76-77, 255, 667
181, 204-5, 263, 336, 709 Quietism, 305, 328, 430, 554, 559, 594
Power, 73, 177,204-5, 368-69,421,
426-27,479,564 Radical Origination of Things, On the
- kingdom of, 442 (1697), 786-91
Practical philosophy; see Ethics Raey, Jean de, 94, 97, 103
Predicables, 465, 621 ; see also Raillery, 629
Denominations Ramists; see Ramus, Petrus
INDBX 733
Ramus, Petrus, 58, 464, 471 Sanchez, Francisco, 544

Ratio, 670, 704; see also Relation Scaliger, Julius Caesar, 94, 97, 101, 103,
Rational souls; see Spirit 122, 130, 470, 499, 589
Reading, 152-53 Scapula, John, 686, 689
Realis de Vienna; see Wagner, Gabriel Schelhammer, Gunther Christopher, 488
Realization, 491, 600, 602, 604 Schonborn, John Phillip of, 85
Reason, 547-53, 645; see also Sufficient Scholastics, 95, 102, 117, 124, 125,
reason, principle of 127-28, 188-90, 259, 289, 321, 338,
- lazy, 305, 425 432-33,454,538,596-617,655,710
Reductive analysis; see Analysis, Schooten, Francis, 76, 84, 472, 475
reductive Schwenter, Daniel, 78, 84
Reflection, 39, 44, 113-14, 162, 360, Science, applied, 131-32,281
638,646, see a/so Apperception; Sciences, hierarchy of, 43
Self-consciousness Scripture, sacred, 82, 367, 369,424,561
Reflections on the Common Concept of Seckendorff, Veit Ludwig von, 275
Justice (1702[?]), 561-73 Sectarianism, philosophical, 209, 496-97,
Reflections on the Doctrine of a Single 654-55
Universal Spirit (1702), 554-60 Self-awareness, 334-35
Refraction of light; see Optics Self-consciousness, 113-14, 161-62,325,
Regis, Henry, 94 593,638,645-46; see also Apperception;
Regis, Pierre Sylvain, 455, 461 Ego; Reflection
Relation, 28, 76, 247, 271, 337, 525, 540, Self-knowledge, 349, 368, 549
609,648,670,703-4,718 Sennert, Daniel, 93
- oblique, 24 Sensation, 38, 107, 325, 344, 391-92
Religion, 213-20, 562, 633 457,547-48; see also Qualities,
- natural, 675, 676 intelligible and sensible
Remond, Nicolas, 636, 654-60 - as resistance 162
Repetition, 86-87 Sense, 143-45, 547-51
Representation, 21, 62, 208, 339, 493, - knowledge of, 161, 384
517,639, 648-49, 694, 710--11; see also Sensible species, 320, 548-49
Expression; Perception Sensorium; see Space, as sensorium
Resistance, 162, 517, 520, 522, 532, 701 ; Sentiment, 637, 644
see also Force, passive Series, 265-6, 534, 536, 543-44
Respiration, 186 Sextus Empiricus, 544
Result (prosu/tare), 669 Shaftesbury, third Earl of, 629-35,
Rhetoric, 121-30 659-60
Right, 133-38, 421-24 Sign, 88,141,145; see also Character
- and justice, 421-31,561-73; see also Similarity, 254-57, 258, 278, 667, 668-69;
Justice; Law see a/so Homogeneity
Roanez, Duc de, 275, 472, 474 Simple ideas; see Terms, simple and
Roberval, Gilles Personne de, 153, 155, complex
165, 383, 584, 663 Simultaneity, 666; see also Space, and
Rohan, Duc de, 630 time; Time
Roi, Honore Ie, 586, 590--91 Sin, 265, 322-23, 368-69, 652, 662
Rolle, Michel, 542, 544 Situation, 254-57, 277-78, 598, 695
Romanticism, 56-57 Situs, 77-78, 162, 184,249, 667, 671;
Rorarius, Jerome, 85, 90 see also Situation
Roscellin of Campeinge, 128 Skepticism, 102, 153-54, 384, 496, 655
Rosental (Leipzig), 83, 655 Slavery, 428-29, 572-73
RusselI, Bertrand, 23, 33, 59. Snell, WiIlebrord, 317, 318, 329, 479
Societies, 48, 428-30
Saint-Pierre, Abbe de, 58, 660 Socinians, 102, 679, 696
734 INDEX
Socrates, 353, 579 Subject, 160, 287, 540

Solicitation, 438, Subject-predicate inclusion, 191, 236-37,
Soner, Ernst, 95 264,267-68,307-8,337
Sophia, electress of Hanover, 209, 272, Sublime, 633-34
561,687 Subordinate regulations, 307, 314-15,
Sophia Charlotte, queen of Prussia, 365, 328-29; see also Laws, of nature
547,561 Substance, 73, 97-99, 115-16, 117-19,
Souls, 36, 38, 62, 155,278-79,289,329, 153,155,160,179,196-201,307-11,
342,349,360,454-56,495-96,503-4, 325-27, 332, 335-36, 344, 365, 390,
512, 520, 522, 551-52, 560, 578-80, 432-34, 435-36, 445-46, 453-61,
586-91, 644-45, 658 515-41,551-53,596-617,620,627-28,
- origin of, 342, 555-56, 589, 597, 598-99 636-37,643-45,663; see also Bodies;
Space, 100, 139-42,278-79, 392-93,598, Individual; Individuality; Souls
622,678,682,684-85,690,692-93 - composite, 596-617
- as sensorium, 676, 678, 680, 683, 686, - corporeal, 270, 365, 600-1, 619-20, 624;
689, 694-95, 710 see also Body
- and time, 16, 531, 536, 540, 583, 604, - living, 637
656, 666-67, 690, 713-14, 719 - simple and compound, 617, 636-37, 641,
- ideality of, 700-1 643
- relativity or absoluteness of, 328, Substantial chain; see Vinculum substan-
682-83,684-85,688-89,692-94, tiate
700-706; see also Extension Substantial form, 97-99, 104, 117-18, 189,
Spanheim, Frederick, 597 261, 271, 288-89, 309-10, 342-44, 345,
Species, 329, 332, 581 454,503-4; see also Entelechy; Monads;
- sensible, 320, 578, 720; see also Souls
Intentional species Substantive, 246
Specimen dynamicum (1695),435-52,477 Substitution, 241
Spener, Phillip Jacob, 90, 102, 104. Subtraction, logical, 380, 381
Sperling, Johann, 93 Succession; see Time
Spinola, Ambrozio di, 259 Sufficient reason, 677, 680,684
Spinoza, Baruch, 40, 46, 94, 120, 162,165, - principle of, 24-25, 142,227,268, 337,
167-69,194,195,207,263,273,496,502, 486-87,639,646,677,682,683,684,687,
507, 526, 532, 533, 554, 555, 559, 582, 698,717,719; see also Reason
583,594,620,663,679 Supernatural, 679, 681, 684, 686-87, 690;
Ethics, notes on, 196-206 see also Miracle
Spirit, 326-27, 346-47, 454-55, 551, Suppositum, 115, 117, 119-20,307,502
554-60,640,651-5; see also Mind Surface, 668
Spitzel, Theophilus Gottlieb, 102, 104 Swarnmerdam, Jan, 345, 350, 455, 584, 585,
Spontaneity, 99, 325, 457, 492-94, 664
496-97,577; see also Freedom Syllogism, 75, 404, 465-67
State, 105-6,281-82 Symbol, 649; see also Character
Steno, Nicolaus, 213, 220, 263, 581 Symbolistic, universal, 654, 655-56; see
Stoicism, 58, 136, 436, 463, 496, 582, 593, also Universal characteristic
594,632 Sympathy, 288, 325, 339, 426, 527, 623,
Straight line, 236, 253, 667, 720, 671-72, 628
673 Synthesis, 187-88,232-33; see also
Strict right, 422,567-68,570-71 Analysis and synthesis
Sturm, John Christopher, 432, 498-508,
532 Tambourino, Michelangelo, 612, 613
Suarez, Francisco, 10,40, 83, 126, Tartalea, Nicolas, 79
329 Taste, 634, 715, 720
Subalternate terms, 372, 379 Teaching, 85-92
INDEX 735
Teleology, 51, 486-91; see also 226-27,232,263-66,268, 310--11, 550,

Mechanism, and teleology 646
Telesio, Bernardino, 93 - negative, 163,237,247,381-82
Tentamen anagogicum (1696), 477-85 - primary, 74-75, 226, 267-71
Term, 89, 123-24, 235; see also Concepts; - primary and derivative; see Concepts,
Ideas primary and derivative
Terms - of reason, 133, 138, 646, 654; see also
- collective, 128-29 Truths, of fact
- concrete and abstract, 126, 540 Tschirnhaus, Ehrenfried Walter von, 165,
- disparate and diverse, 245, 371-72, 166, 192-95, 275-76
379-80
- simple and complex, 89,160-61, 169,
Unconscious, 40, 180,557
285, 295, 519
Understanding; see Intellect
Theism, 486-87, 633
Theodicy, 56, 597, 601, 605, 615, 624, 633,
Union, metaphysical, 596, 598, 600, 602,
604,605-6,610--11; see also Body-soul
656-57,658,661,677,687,696,697,710,
712; see also Evil
unity; Vinculum substantiale
Theology, 49-53, 82, 109-20, 213-20, Unity, 76-77, 342-44,530,535, 559-60,
259-60, 265, 303, 367-70; see also 664-65
Universal calculus, 240--46; see also Logical
Catholic Demonstrations
Theory of Abstract Motion, The, 139-42
calculus; Universal characteristic
Universal characteristic, 166, 192-94,
Thing, 142
221-28, 380, 654, 655-56, 670
Thomasius, Christian, 462
Thomasius, Jacob, 37, 93-104 Universals, 128-30
Thought, 89, 113, 160--61, 339, 579-80
Thrasymachus, 76, 562 Vacuum, 96, 269, 347, 392, 414, 415, 622,
Time, 141-42, 531, 534, 664, 669, 682-83, 687, 691, 692, 701
693; see also Space and time Valerianus Magnus, 165
Toland, John, 547 Valla, Lorentio, 127
Torricelli, Evangelista, 584, 701 Values, 18-19,48-49, 136-38,326,489-91,
Tournemine, Rene Joseph, 538, 596 565-67
Trace, 155, 668 Variation, 77-78
Traduction, 342, 598 Varignon, Pierre, 542-44, 660
Transcendentals, mathematical, 274 Vector, 439
Transcreation, 515-16, 521; see also Velocity, relative, 450; see also Motion
Occasionalism Vergil,3
Transformation, 270, 325, 667, 669 Vicinity, 77, 78; see also Distance
- biological, 345-47, 557-58, 589 Vieta, Fran\tois, 193, 248
Transsubstantiation, 115-19, 600--1, 602, Vinculum substantiale, 34, 600, 608,
607-8 610-11, 614, 615
Trent, Council of, 58, 117, 118,259,596 Violence, 577, 585
Trew, Abdias, 98 Viotti, Bartholomeo, 95
True Theologia mystica, On the, 367-70 Virtues, 135,569-70, 593-94, 630
Truth,121,182-85,239-40,291-95, Vitalism, 101, 329, 409,496,498-99,508,
549-51 555,586-91, 624
- criterion of, 43, 363-66, 517, 518, 550 Vives, Ludovico, 127
- and falsity, 182-85; see also Error Viviani, Vincent, 419
Truths Vogel, Martin, 124, 130
- of fact, 43, 60, 226, 363-66, 646; see also Voider, Burcher de, 511, 515-41
Contingent truths Vorst, Conrad, 158
- primary, 152, 153, 232, 385 Vortex, 158, 162,413-15
- necessary and contingent, 133, 151-54, Vossius, Gerhard, 94
736 INDEX
Wagner, Gabriel, 25, 462-71 387-89, 687, 691, 697, 698, 708-9
Wallis, John, 417, 419, 439 - general and particular, 307, 310-11;
Wander, Guillaume, 212 see also God, will of
War, 660 William of Occam; see Occam, William of
Ward, Seth, 75 William of Saint-Amour, 321
Wedderkop~ ~agnus, 146-47 Winds, 473
Weigel, Erhard, 98, 104 Wisdom, 425-28, 564
Weigel, Valentine, 47, 425, 430, 554, 594 Wolff, Christian, 56, 657, 666,675
What Is Independent of Sense and Words, 122-23, 182-85
Matter, On, 547-53 World, beginning and end, 164,664,
White, Thomas, 94, 98,139 693-94, 706-8; see also Creation
Whitehead, Alfred North, 57 Wren, Sir Christopher, 139, 439, 452
Whole; see Part-whole
Will, 91, 146,204,321-22, 332-33,384-85, Zarabella, Jacob, 95, 117, 603

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GOTTFRIED WILHELM LEIBNIZ

PHILOSOPHICAL PAPERS AND LETTERS

DANIEL ELLIOT GARBER, University of Chicago

JAN A. AERTSEN, Free University, Amsterdam

A Selection Translated and Edited, with an Introduction by

KLUWER ACADEMIC PUBLISHERS

Published by Kluwer Academic Publishers,

Kluwer Academic Publishers incorporates

Sold and distributed in the U.S.A. and Canada

In all other countries, sold and distributed

First edition: 1956 by Chicago University Press, Chicago

printed Oil acidfi'ec paper

All Rights Reserved

To acknowledge with gratitude the social co-operation required in such work is a

Emory University. Georgia

The appearance of a corrected edition of these Leibniz translations provides an op-

Emory University, 1969

Introduction: Leibniz as Philosopher 1

7. Elements of Natural Law, 1670-71 131

PART II. HANOVER TO THE ITALIAN JOURNEY, 1676-87 171

32. On the Elements of Natural Science, ca. 1682-84 277

PART III. HANOVER TO THE DEATH OF ERNEST AUGUST, 1690-98 357

PART IV. HANOVER UNDER GEORGE LOUIS, 1698-1716 509

55. Correspondence with De Voider, 1699-1706 515

For references see p. 58

I. THE 17TH CENTURY

For references see p. 58

II. LEIBNIZ'S LIFE AND WORK

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power. In spite of inherent difficulties, Leibniz boldly imposed Aristotle's predicables

For references see p. 58

paraphrases, and preliminary sketches contains studies of Plato, Aristotle, Augustine,

III. THE METAPHYSICAL PATTERN

For references see p. 58

For references see p. 58

For references see p. 58

IV. LEIBNIZ's METHOD

For references see p. 58

of analysis and synthesis on the basis of an unpublished manuscript given him by

For references see p. 58

V. LOGIC AND THE PRINCIPLES OF TRUTH AND REALITY

For references see p. 58

distortion of meaning. If they cannot, the reason is either contradiction or inade-

For references see p. 58

For references see p. 58

VI. MATHEMATICS AND PHILOSOPHY

For rejerrmces see p. 58

relationship between an infinity of variables. Each solution of this complex relation-

VII. PHYSICS AND THE REALM OF NATURE

If Leibniz's mathematical concepts suggested the answer to the metaphysical problems

For references see p. 58

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opposed to Locke's psychological analysis of the genesis of experience. If Descartes

XI. SUMMAR Y: STRUCTURE AND PURPOSE

For references see p. 58

Finally, Leibniz's combination of mechanism and purpose is now also complete.

XII. ETHICS AND SOCIAL THOUGHT