Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz
From: http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/09134b.htm
I. LIFE OF LEIBNIZ
Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz was born at Leipzig on 21 June (1
July), 1646. In 1661 he entered the University of Leipzig as a student
of philosophy and law, and in 1666 obtained the degree of Doctor
of Law at Altdorf. The following year he met the diplomat Baron
von Boineburg, at whose suggestion he entered the diplomatic service
of the Elector of Mainz. The years 1672 to 1676 he spent as diplomatic
representative of Mainz at the Court of Louis XIV. During this time
he paid a visit to London and made the acquaintance of the most
learned English mathematicians, scientists, and theologians of the
day. While at Paris he became acquainted with prominent representatives
of Catholicism, and began to interest himself in the questions which
were in dispute between Catholics and Protestants. In 1676 he accepted
the position of librarian, archivist, and court councillor to the
Duke of Brunswick. The remaining years of his life were spent at
Hanover, with the exception of a brief interval in which he journeyed
to Rome and to Vienna for the purpose of examining documents relating
to the history of the House of Brunswick. He died at Hanover on
14 Nov., 1716.
As a mathematician Leibniz claims with Newton the distinction of
having invented (in 1675) differential calculus. As a scientist
he appreciated and encharged the use of observation and experiment:
"I prefer," he said, "a Leeuwenhoek who tells me
what he sees to a Cartesian who tells me what he thinks." As
a historian he emphasized the importance of the study of documents
and archives. As a philologist he laid stress on the value of the
comparative study of languages, and made some contributions to the
history of German. As a philosopher he is undoubtedly the foremost
German thinker of the eighteenth century, Kant being generally reckoned
among nineteenth-century philosophers. Finally, as a student of
statecraft he realized the importance of freedom of conscience and
made persistent, well-meant, though unsuccessful efforts to reconcile
Catholics and Protestants.
II. LEIBNIZ AND CATHOLICISM
When Leibniz became librarian and archivist of the House of Brunswick
in 1676, the Duke of Brunswick was Johann Friedrich, a recent convert
to Catholicism. Almost immediately Leibniz began to exert himself
in the cause of reconciliation between Catholics and Protestants.
At Paris he had come to know many prominent Jesuits and Oratorians,
and now he began his celebrated correspondence with Bossuet. With
the sanction of the duke and the approval, not only of the vicar
Apostolic, but of Innocent XI, the project to find a basis of agreement
between Protestants and Catholics in Hanover was inaugurated. Leibniz
soon took the place of Molanus, president of the Hanoverian Consistory,
as the representative of the Protestant claims. He tried to reconcile
the Catholic principle of authority with the Protestant principle
of free enquiry. He favoured a species of syncretic Christianity
first proposed at the University of Helmstadt, which adopted for
its creed an eclectic formula made up of the dogmas supposed to
have been held by the primitive Church. Finally he drew up a statement
of Catholic doctrine, entitled "Systema Theologicum",
which he tells us met the approval not only of Bishop Spinola of
Wiener-Neustadt, who conducted, so to speak, the case for the Catholics,
but also of "the Pope, the Cardinals, the General of the Jesuits,
the Master of the Sacred Palace and others." The negotiations
were continued even after the death of Duke Johann Friedrich in
1679. Leibniz, it should be understood, was actuated as much by
patriotic motives as he was by religious considerations. He saw
clearly that one of the greatest sources of weakness in the German
States was the lack of religious unity and the absence of the spirit
of toleration. Indeed, the role he played was that of a diplomat
rather than that of a theologian. However, his correspondence with
Bossuet and Pelisson and his acquaintance with many prominent Catholics
produced a real change in his attitude towards the Church, and,
although he adopted for his own creed a kind of eclectic rationalistic
Christianity, he ceased in 1696 to frequent Protestant services.
The causes of the failure of his negotiations have been variously
summed up by different historians. One thing seems clear: Louis
XIV, who, through Bossuet, professed his approval of Leibniz's project,
had very potent political reasons for placing obstacles in the way
of Leibniz's irenic efforts. Leibniz, it should be added, met with
little success in his other plan of conciliation, namely, his scheme
for the union of Protestants among themselves.
III. LEIBNIZ AND LEARNED SOCIETIES
In 1700 Leibniz, through the munificence of his royal pupil Princess
Sophie Charlotte, wife of Frederick the First of Prussia, founded
the Society (afterwards called the Academy) of Sciences of Berlin,
and was appointed its first president. In 1711, and again in 1712
and 1716 he was accorded an interview with Peter the Great, and
suggested the formation of a similar society at St. Petersburg.
In 1689, during his visit to Rome, he was elected a member of the
pontifical Accademia Fisico-Mattematica .
IV. LEIBNIZ'S WORKS
Since the discovery in 1903 of fifteen thousand letters and unedited
fragments of Leibniz's works at Hanover, the learned world has come
to realize the full force of a saying of Leibniz himself: "He
who knows me by my published works alone does not know me at all"
(Qui me non nisi editis novit, non novit). The works published during
his lifetime or immediately after his death are, for the most part,
treatises on particular portions of his philosophy. None of them
gives an adequate account of his system in its entirety. The most
important are
"Disputatio metaphysica de principio individui,"
"La monadologie ","Essais de théodicée",
and
"Nouveaux essais sur l'entendement humain," a reply, chapter
by chapter, to Locke's "Essay".
Of Leibniz's treatises on religious topics the most important are:
"Dialogus de religione rustici", a fragment, dated Paris,
1673, and treating of predestination;
"Dialogue effectif sur la liberté de l'homme, et sur
l'origine du mal," dated 1695, and treating of the same topic;
"Letters" to Arnauld and others on transubstantiation,
Letters, tracts, opuscula, etc., of an irenic character, e. g. "Variae
definitiones ecclesiae" "De persona Christi", "Appendix,
de resurrectione corporum", "De cultu sanctorum",
letters to Pelisson, Bossuet, Mme de Brinon, etc.
contributions to mystical theology, e.g. "Von der wahren Theologia
Mystica", "Dialogues" on the psychology of mysticism.
V. LEIBNIZ'S PHILOSOPHY
As a philosopher Leibniz exhibited that many-sidedness which characterized
his mental activity in general. His sympathies were broad, his convictions
were eclectic, and his aim was not so much that of the synthetic
thinker who would found a new system of philosophy, as that of a
philosophic diplomatist who would reconcile all existing systems
by demonstrating their essential harmony. Consequently, his starting-point
is very different from that of Descartes. Descartes believed that
his first duty was to doubt all the conclusions of all his predecessors;
Leibniz was of the opinion that his duty was to show how near all
his predecessors had come to the truth. Descartes was convinced,
or at least assumed the conviction, that all the philosophers who
went before him were in error, because they appeared to be involved
in inextricable contradictions- Leibniz was equally well convinced
that all the great systems agree fundamentally, and that their unanimity
on essentials is a fair indication that they are in the right. Leibniz
therefore resolved, not to isolate himself from the philosophical,
scientific, and literary efforts of his predecessors and contemporaries,
but, on the contrary, to utilize everything that the human mind
had up to his time achieved, to discover agreement where discord
and contradiction semed to reign, and thus to establish a permanent
peace among contending schools. Even thinkers so widely separated
as Plato and Democritus, Aristotle and Descartes, the Scholastics
and modern physicists, hold certain doctrines in common, and Leibniz
makes it the business of his philosophy to single out those doctrines,
explain the manifold bearings of each, remove apparent contradictions,
and so accomplish a diplomatic triumph where others had like Descartes,
but made confusion worse confounded. The philosophy, to which Leibniz
thus ascribed irenics as one of its chief aims, is a partial idealism.
Its principal tenets are:
The doctrine of monads,
pre-established harmony,
the law of continuity, and
optimism.
(1) The Doctrine of Monads
Like Descartes and Spinoza, Leibniz attaches great importance to
the notion of substance. But, while they define substance as independent
existence, he defines substance in terms of independent action.
The notion of substance as essentially inert (see OCCASIONALISM)
is fundamentally erroneous. Substance is essentially active: to
be is to act. Now, since the independence of substance is an independence
in regard to action, not in regard to existence, there is no reason
for maintaining, as Descartes and Spinoza maintained, that substance
is one. Substance is, indeed, essentially individual, because it
is a centre of independent action but it is no less essentially
manifold, since actions are many and varied. The independent, manifold
centres of activity are called monads. The monad has been compared
to the atom, and is, indeed, like it in many respects. Like the
atom, it is simple (devoid of parts), indivisible, and indestructible.
However, the indivisibility of the atom is not absolute but only
relative to our power of analysing it chemically, while the indivisibility
of the monad is absolute, the monad being a metaphysical point,
a centre of force, incapable of being analysed or separated in any
way. Again, according to the Atomists, all atoms are alike: according
to Leibniz no two monads can be exactly alike. Finally, the most
important difference between the atom and the monad is this: the
atom is material, and performs only material functions; the monad
is immaterial and, in so far as it represents other monads, functions
in an immaterial manner. The monads therefore, of which all substances
are composed, and which are, in reality, the only substances existing,
are more like souls than bodies. Indeed, Leibniz does not hesitate
to call them souls and to draw the obvious inference that all nature
is animated (panpsychism).
The immateriality of the monad consists in its power of representation.
Each monad is a microcosm, or universe in miniature. It is, rather,
a mirror of the entire universe, because it is in relation with
all other monads, and to that extent reflects them all, so that
an all-seeing eye looking at one monad could see reflected in it
all the rest of creation. Of course, this representation is different
in different kinds of monads. The uncreated monad, God, mirrors
all things clearly and adequately. The created monad which is the
human soul-the "queen-monad"-represents consciously but
not with perfect clearness. And, according as we descend the scale
from man to the lowest mineral substance, the region of clear representation
diminishes and the region of obscure representation increases. The
extent of clear representation in the monad is an index of its immateriality.
Every monad, except the uncreated monad, is, therefore partly material
and partly immaterial. The material element in the monad corresponds
to the passivity of materia prima, and the immaterial element to
the activity of the forma substantialis. Thus, Leibniz imagined,
the Scholastic doctrine of matter and form is reconciled with modern
science. At the same time, he imagined, the doctrine of monads embodies
what is true in the atomism of Democritus and does not exclude what
is true in Plato's immaterialism.
The universe, therefore, as Leibniz represented it, is made up
of an infinite number of indivisible monads which rise in a scale
of ascending immaterialism from the lowest particle of mineral dust
up to the highest created intellect. The lowest monad has only a
most imperfect glimmering of immateriality, and the highest has
still some remnant of materiality attached to it. In this way the
doctrine of monads strives to reconcile materiaiism and idealism
by teaching that everything created is partly material and partly
immaterial. For matter is not separated from spirit by an abrupt
difference, such as Descartes imagined to exist between body and
mind. Neither are the functions of the immaterial generically different
from the functions of material substance. The mineral, which attracts
and is attracted, has an incipient or inchoate power of perception;
the plant, which in so many different ways adapts itself to its
environment, is in a sense aware of its surroundings, though not
conscious of them. The animal by its power of sensation rises by
imperceptible steps above the mentality of the Plant and between
the highest or most "intelligent" anii mals and the lowest
savages there is no very violent break in the continuity of the
development of mental power. All this Leibniz maintains without
any thought, apparently, of genetic dependence of man on animal,
animal on plant, or plant on mineral. He has no theory of descent
or ascent. He merely records the absence of "breaks" in
the plan of continuity, as it presents itself to his mind. He is
not concerned with the problem of origins, but rather with the Cartesian
problem of the alleged antithesis between mind and matter. How to
bridge the imaginary chasm between mind which thinks, and matter
which is extended, was the problem to which all the philosophers
of the eighteenth century addressed themselves. Spinoza merged mind
and matter in the one infinite substance; the materialists merged
mind in matter; the immaterialists merged matter in mind; Hume denied
the terms of the problem, when he reasoned away both matter and
mind and left only appearances. Leibniz, diplomat and peacemaker,
toned matter up and toned mind down until they gave forth what he
considered unison. Or, if we are to go back to the original figure
of speech, he spanned the chasm by his definition of substance as
action. Representation is action; representation is a function of
so-called material things as well as of those which are generally
called immaterial. Representation, rising from the most rudimentary
"little perception" (petite perception) in the mineral
up to "apperception" in the human soul, is the bond of
substantial continuity, the bridge that joins together the two kinds
of substances, matter and mind which Descartes so inconsiderately
separated. There is no doubt that Leibniz was conscious of this
aim of his philosophy. His opposition to "immoderate Cartesianism"
was openly acknowledged in his philosophical treatises as well as
in his lectures. He looked upon Spinoza's conclusions as being the
logical outcome of Descartes's erroneous definition of substance.
"Spinoza", he wrote, "simply said out loud what Descartes
was thinking, but did not dare to express". But while he had
in view the refutation of extreme Cartesianism, he must have intended
also by means of his doctrine of monads to stem the current of materialism
which had set in in England and was soon to sweep before it in France
many of the ideas which he cherished.
(2) The Doctrine of Pre-established Harmony
"Every present state of a simple substance is a natural consequence
of its preceding state, in such a way that its present is always
the cause of its future" ("Monadologie," thesis xxii).
"The soul follows its own laws, and the body has its laws.
They are fitted to each other in virtue of the pre-established harmony
among all substances, since they are all representations of one
and the same universe" (op. cit., thesis lxxviii) . From Descartes's
doctrine that matter is essentially inert, Malebranche (q. v.) had
drawn the conclusion that material substances cannot be true causes,
but only occasions of the effects produced by God (Occasionalism).
Leibniz wished to avoid this conclusion. At the same time, he had
reduced all the activity of the monad to immanent activity. That
is he had defined substance as action, and explained that the essential
action of substance is representation He saw clearly, then, that
there can be no interaction among monads. The monad, he said, has
"no windows" through which the activity of other monads
can enter it. The only recourse left him is to maintain that each
monad unfolds its own activity, pursues, as it were, its career
of representation independently of other monads. This would make
each monad a monarch. If, however, there were no control of the
activities of the monad, the world would be a chaos, not the cosmos
that it is. We must, therefore, conceive that God at the beginning
of creation so arranged things that the changes in one monad correspond
perfectly to those in the other monads which belong to its system.
In the case of the soul and body, for instance, neither has a real
influence on the other: but, just as two clocks may be so perfectly
constructed and so accurately adjusted that, though independent
of each other, they keep exactly the same time, so it is arranged
that the monads of the body put forth their activity in such a way
that to each physical activity of the monads of the body there corresponds
a psychical activity of the monad of the soul. This is the famous
doctrine of pre-established harmony. "According to this system",
says Leibniz, "bodies act as if (to suppose the impossible)
there were no souls at all, and souls act as if there were no bodies,
and yet both body and soul act as if the one were influencing the
other" (op. cit., thesis lxxxii). Thus the monad is not really
a monarch, but a subject of God's Kingdom, which is the universe,
"the true city of God".
If we take this doctrine literally, and deny all influence of one
monad on another, we are forced at once to ask: How, then, is it
possible for the monad to represent, if it is not acted upon? Leibniz's
answer would be that he denied to the monad all communication from
without, he affirmed that the monad has no windows on the outside,
but he did not deny that in the heart of the monad is a door that
opens on the Infinite and from that side it is in communication
with all other monads. Here Leibniz passes over the problem from
metaphysics to mysticism. If harmony is unity in diversity, the
unity in the pre-established harmony is not so much a unity of source,
as a unity of final destiny. All things "co-operate" in
the universe not only because God is the Source from whom they all
spring, but still more so because God is the End towards which they
are all tending, and the Perfection which they are all striving
to attain.
(3) Law of Continuity
From the description of the monads given above, it is clear that
all kinds and conditions of created things shade off by gradual
differences, the lower appearing to be merely an inferior degree
of the higher. There are no "breaks" in the continuity
of nature, no "gaps" between mineral plant, animal, and
man. The counter-view is the law of indiscernibles. There can be
no meaningless duplication in nature. No two monads can be exactly
alike. No two objects, no two events can be entirely similar, for,
if they were, they would not, Leibniz thinks, be two but one. The
application of these principles led Leibniz to adopt the view that,
while every thing differs from every other thing, there are no true
opposites. Rest, for instance, may be considered as infinitely minute
motion; the fluid is a solid with a lower degree of solidity, animals
are men with infinitely small reason, and so forth The application
to the theory of the differential calculus is obvious.
(4) Optimism
In the center of the vast harmonious system of monads which we
call the universe is God, the original, infinite monad. His power,
His wisdom, His goodness are infinite. When, therefore, He created
the system of monads, He created them as good as they could possibly
be, and established among them the best possible kind of harmony.
The world, therefore, is the best possible world, and the supreme
law of finite being is the lex melioris. The Will of God must realize
what His understanding recognizes as more perfect. Leibniz represents
the possible monads as present for all eternity in the mind of God
-- in them was the impulse towards actualization -- and the more
perfect the possible monad the more strongly did it possess this
impulse. There went on, therefore, so to speak, a competition before
the throne of God, in which the best monads conquered, and, as God
could not but see that they were the best, He could not but will
their realization. Behind the lex melioris is therefore, a more
fundamental law, the law of sufficient reason, which is that "things
or events are real when there is a sufficient reason for their existence."
This is a fundamental law of thought, as well as a primary law of
being.
The four doctrines here outlined may be said to sum up Leibniz's
metaphysical teaching. They find their principal application in
his psychology and his theodicy.
(5) Psychology
In the "Nouveaux Essais," which were written in refutation
of Locke's "Essay", Leibniz develops his doctrines regarding
the human soul and the origin and nature of knowledge. The power
of representation, which is common to all monads, makes its first
appearance in souls as perception. Perception, when it reaches the
level of consciousness, becomes apperception. The Cartesians "have
fallen into a serious error in that they treat as non-existent those
perceptions of which we are not conscious." Perception is found
in all monads; in those monads which we call souls there is apperception,
but there is a large subconscious region of souls in which there
are perceptions. Perceptions are the source of apperceptions. They
are the source also of volitions, because impulse, or appetite,
is nothing but the tendency of one perception towards another. From
perception, therefore, which is found in everything, up to intelligence
and volition, which are peculiar to man there are imperceptibly
small grades of differentiation.
Whence, then, come our ideas? The question is already answered
in Leibniz's general principles. Since intelligence is only a differentiation
of that immanent action which all monads possess, our ideas must
be the result of the self-activity of the monad called the human
soul. The soul has "no doors or windows" towards the side
facing the external world. No ideas can come from that direction.
All our ideas are innate. The Aristotelian maxim, "there is
nothing in the intellect that was not previously in the senses,"
must be amended by the addition of the phrase, "except the
intellect itself". The intellect is the source as well as the
subject of all our ideas. These ideas, however subjective their
origin, have objective value, because, by virtue of the harmony
pre-established from the beginning of the universe, the evolution
of the psychic monad from virtual to actual knowledge is paralleled
by the evolution in the outside world of the physical monad from
virtual to actual activity.
Leibniz has no difficulty in establishing the immateriality of
the soul. All monads are immaterial or rather, partly immaterial
and partly material. The human soul is no exception- its "immateriality"
is not absolute, but only relative, in the sense that in it the
region of clear representation is so much greater than the region
of obscure representation that the latter is practically a negligible
quantity. Similarly, the immortality of the human soul is not absolutely
speaking, a unique privilege. All monads are immortal. Each monad
being an independent self-active, source of action, neither dependent
on other monads nor influenced by them, it can continue acting without
interference forever. The human soul is peculiar in this, that its
consciousness (apperception) enables it to realize this independence,
and therefore the soul's consciousness of its immortality is what
makes human immortality to be different from every other immortality.
(6) Theodicy
The work entitled "Théodicée", a treatise
on natural theology, was intended as a refutation of the Encyclopeedist,
Bayle, who had tried to show that reason and faith are incompatible.
In it Leibniz takes up:
the existence of God
the problem of evil, and
the question of optimism.
Existence of God
Leibniz, true to his eclectic temperament, admits the validity
of all the various arguments for the existence of God. He adduces
the argument from the contingency of finite being, recasts the ontological
argument used by Descartes (see GOD), and adds the argument from
the nature of the necessity of our ideas. The third of these arguments
is really Platonic in its origin. Its validity depends on the fact
that our ideas are necessary, not merely in a hypothetical, but
in an absolute and categorical sense, and on the further contention
that a necessity of that kind cannot be explained unless we grant
that an absolutely necessary Being exists.
(b) Problem of Evil
This problem is discussed at length in the "Théodicée"
and in many of Leibniz's letters. The law of continuity requires
that there be no abrupt differences among monads. God, therefore,
although He wished to create the best possible world, and did, in
fact, create the best world that was in se possible, could not create
monads which were all perfect, each in its own kind. He was under
no necessity of His own Nature, but He was obliged, as it were,
by the terms of the problem, to lead up to perfection by passing
through various degrees of imperfection. Leibniz distinguishes metaphysical
evil, which is mere finiteness, or imperfection in general, physical
evil, which is suffering, and moral evil, which is sin. God permits
these to exist, since the nature of the universe demands variety
and gradation, but He reduces them to the minimum, and makes them
to serve a higher purpose, the beauty and harmony of creation as
a whole. Leibniz faces resolutely the problem of reconciling the
existence of evil with the goodness and omnipotence of God. He reminds
us that we see only a part of God's creation, that part, namely,
which is nearest to ourselves, and, for that reason, makes the largest
demand on our sympathy. We should learn he says, to look beyond
our own immediate environment, to observe the larger and more perfect
world above us. Where our sympathies are involved, we should not
allow the prevalence of evil to overpower our feelings, but should
exercise our faith and our love of God, where we can view God's
works more impersonally, we should realize that evil and imperfection
are always and everywhere made to serve the purpose of harmony,
symmetry, and beauty.
(c) Optimism
Leibniz is, therefore, an optimist, both because he maintains as
a general metaphysical principle that the world which exists is
the best possible world, and because in his discussion of the problem
of evil he tries to trace out principles that will "justify
the ways of God to man" in a manner compatible with God's goodness.
It had become the fashion among materialists and freethinkers to
draw an over-gloomy picture of the universe as a place of pain,
suffering, and sin, and to ask triumphantly: "How can a good
God, if He is omnipotent, permit such a state of things?" Leibniz's
answer, though not entirely original, is correct. Evil should be
considered in relation not to the parts of reality, but to reality
as a whole. Many evils are "in other respects" good. And,
when, in the final resort, we cannot see a definite rational solution
of a perplexing problem, we should fall back on faith, which, especially
in regard to the problem of evil, aids reason.
(7) Leibniz's Ethics
We have seen that, although the monad is by definition independent,
and, therefore, a monarch in its own realm, vet, by virtue of preestablished
harmony the multitude of monads which make up the universe are organized
into a kingdom of spirits, of which God is the Supreme Ruler, a
city of God, governed by Divine Providence, or, more correctly still,
a family, of which God is the Father. Now, there is "a harmony
between the physical realm of nature and the moral realm of grace"
(" Monadologie ", thesis lxxxviii); monads making progress
along natural lines towards perfection are progressing at the same
time along moral lines towards happiness. The essential perfection
of a monad is, of course, perfect distinctness of representation.
The more the human soul progresses in distinctness of ideas, the
more insight it obtains into the connection of all things and the
harmony of the whole universe. From this realization springs the
impulse to love others, that is to seek the happiness of others
as well as one's own. The road to happiness is, therefore through
an increase of theoretical insight into tie universe and through
an increase in love which naturally follows an increase of knowledge.
The moral man, while he thus promotes his own happiness by seeking
the happiness of others, fulfils at the same time the Will of God.
Goodness and piety are, therefore, identical.
VII. INFLUENCE OF LEIBNIZ
Through his controversy with Clarke concerning the nature of space
and the existence of atoms, and also on account of the rivalry between
himself and Newton in respect to the discovery of the calculus,
Leibniz came to be well known to the learned world in England at
the end of the seventeenth century and the beginning of the eighteenth.
His residence in Paris brought him into contact with the great men
of the court of Louis XIV, as well as with almost all the writers
of that age who were distinguished either in the world of science
or in that of theology. It was, however, in his own country that
he became best known as a philosopher. The multiplicity of his interests
and the variety of the tasks he set himself to accomplish were unfavourable
to the systematic development of his philosophical doctrines. It
was due to the efforts of his follower Christian Wolff (1679-1754),
who reduced his teachings to more compact form, that he exerted
the influence which he did on the movement known as the German Illumination.
In point of fact, until Kant began the public exposition of his
critical philosophy, Leibniz was the dominant mind in the world
of philosophy in Germany. And his influence was, on the whole, salutary.
It is true that his philosophy is unreal. His fundamental conception,
that of substance, is more worthy of a poet and a mystic than of
a philosopher and a scientist -- nevertheless, like Plato, he is
to be judged by the loftiness of his speculations, not by his lack
of scientific precision. He did his share in stemming the tide of
materialism, and helped to preserve spiritual and aesthetic ideals
until such time as they could be treated constructively, as they
were by the greatest thinkers in the nineteenth century.
WILLIAM TURNER
Transcribed by Tomas Hancil
The Catholic Encyclopedia, Volume IX
Copyright © 1910 by Robert Appleton Company
Online Edition Copyright © 1999 by Kevin Knight
Nihil Obstat, October 1, 1910. Remy Lafort, Censor
Imprimatur. +John M. Farley, Archbishop of New York
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