It is only necessary to add, that the sole attributes of this Substance which are capable of being known by our limited intelligence, and which are discerned by an immediate "intuition of reason," are two, namely, extension and thought. We know nothing, and can know nothing, of God beyond this: He has no will, or his will is mere intelligence or thought; He has no law, or His law is merely His thought embodied in the arrangements of nature; He has no moral properties that are cognizable by the human faculties. It follows that God is not the creator of the world, for creation implies an act of will, and God has no will; that He is not the Lawgiver or Governor of the world, for there is no law emanating from a superior, but such only as is created by human compact or agreement, and there is "no natural obligation to obey God," no invariable standard of right and wrong. The principles which are thus assumed in regard to the nature of God are afterwards applied to many important questions, relating, first, to the soul of man; secondly, to the science of Ethics; thirdly, to the doctrine of political right and liberty; and, fourthly, to the supposed claims of Revelation. And they are carried out, with inexorable logic, into all their most revolting results.

Such is a concise, but, as we believe, a correct outline of the leading principles of the system of Spinoza. We shall now offer a few remarks upon it, directed to the object of showing wherein consists the radical fallacy on which it rests, and what are the considerations by which thoughtful men may be most effectually secured against its pernicious influence.

It has been well said by Professor Saisset, that the fallacy of this system does not lie in any one proposition of the series, but that it is a vicious circle throughout; that the paralogism is not in this or that part of the "Ethics,"—it is everywhere; and that the germ of the whole is contained in the definitions, which are assumed, but not proved.[123] Our attention, therefore, must be given, in the first instance, to the fundamental assumptions on which the whole superstructure is built.

1. It is assumed, without proof, that the entire system of Being may be ranked under the three categories of Substance, Attributes, and Modes. It is assumed, equally without proof, that there can be no substance which is not self-existent, necessary, and eternal, and that every being which does not possess these properties must be only a "mode" or affection of another being to whom they belong. It is further assumed, also without proof, that extension and thought are necessary "attributes" of the one self-existent "substance," each of the two exhibiting only a different aspect of his eternal essence, while both are equally essential and equally infinite. And, finally, it is assumed, still without proof, that Nature comprehends a twofold series of existences, distinct from each other, but developed, as it were, in parallel lines,—Corporeal and Intellectual beings, which correspond respectively to the Divine attributes of extension and thought,—which partake of the essential nature of these attributes, but exhibit them in finite and transient forms, as mere modes or manifestations of the one infinite "substance." These are some of the fundamental assumptions on which he proceeds; they are not proved, nor even attempted to be proved; for, although several are stated in the form of distinct propositions, and accompanied with a formal demonstration, the most cursory inspection of the pretended proof is sufficient to show that it consists entirely in a series of deductions from principles previously assumed, and that its validity must ultimately rest on the definitions in which these principles are embodied.

Now, let any one examine these "definitions," and he will find that they are wholly arbitrary, and that he is not bound by any law of his intellectual nature to admit them, still less entitled, on any ground of experience, to assume and found upon them, as if they were self-evident or axiomatic truths. It is possible, and it may even be legitimate and useful for the purposes of philosophical speculation, to classify the various objects of human knowledge by ranging them under the categories of Substance, Attributes, and Modes. But is it a self-evident truth, that there can be no substance in nature excepting such as is self-existent and eternal? Is it a self-evident truth that man, with his distinct personality and individual consciousness, is a mere "mode" or affection of another being? Is it a self-evident truth that the ape, the lizard, and the worm are equally "modes" of the same substance with the angel and the seraph? Is it a self-evident truth that extension and thought are equally expressive of the uncreated Essence and necessary "attributes" of the Eternal? Is it a self-evident truth that no being can exist in nature otherwise than by development out of the Divine substance, and that the creation of a distinct but dependent being is impossible? In regard to questions such as these, the appeal must lie to that common sense, or those laws of thought, which are the heritage of every thinking mind, and which cannot be cramped or fettered by the arbitrary definitions of any philosophical system whatever. These definitions must commend themselves as true, either by their own self-evidencing light, or by their manifest conformity with experience, before they can be assumed and founded on in any process of reasoning; and we are very sure that those which have been specified cannot be candidly examined without appearing to be, as they really are, the grossest instances of a petitio principii that have ever been offered to the world. For these "definitions" constitute the foundation of the whole superstructure; they contain the germ, which is subsequently expanded and developed in a long series of propositions; and, as they are assumed without proof, while they are far from being self-evident, no amount of logical power and no effort of dialectic skill can possibly extract from them any doctrinal results, whether theological, ethical, or political, possessing greater evidence than what belongs to themselves. This is our first objection.

2. The philosophical method of Spinoza, as applied to our special subject, is radically vicious. It is not the inductive or experimental method; it is an argument a priori, a deductive process of reasoning. Now, this method, suitable as it is to a certain class of subjects, such as those of Geometry, in which clear and precise definitions are attainable, is either utterly inapplicable to another class of subjects, such as most of those of which Spinoza treats, or it is peculiarly dangerous, especially in the hands of a daring speculator, since, in the absence of adequate definitions, he may be tempted to have recourse to such as are purely arbitrary. All the possible properties of a circle may be deduced from the simple definition of it; but it will not follow that all the possible forms of being in nature may be deduced from the definition of "substance." The reason is clear; we cannot have such a definition of substance as we may have of a circle. We do not object merely to the geometrical form of his reasoning,—that is a mere accessory, and one which renders the "Ethica" much more dry and less attractive than the "Tractatus," in which he gives free scope to his subtle intellect, unfettered by any such artificial plan,—but we object to the essential nature of his system, to the a priori and deductive method by which he attempts to solve some of the highest problems of philosophy respecting God, Nature, and Man. Here, if anywhere, is a field of inquiry which demands for its due cultivation an enlarged experience and a patient spirit of induction. Yet, with him, the starting-point of philosophy is the highest object of human thought. He begins with the idea of self-existent Being, without which, as he imagines, nothing else can be conceived; and then, following the line of a descending series, he attempts to deduce from it the philosophy of the whole system of the universe![124] His Metaphysics must borrow nothing from experience; his very Psychology must be purely deductive. From the intuitive idea of "substance" he deduces the nature and existence of God; from the nature of God, the necessity of a Divine development; from the necessity of a Divine development, the existence of a universe comprising souls and bodies; and nowhere does he condescend to take notice of the facts of experience, except in two of his axioms, in which he assumes that "man thinks," and that "he feels his body to be affected in various ways." His whole philosophy resolves itself ultimately into an intellectual intuition, whose object is Substance or Being, with its infinite attributes of extension and thought,—an intuition which discerns its object directly and immediately, in the light of its own self-evidence, without the aid of any intermediate sign, and which is as superior, in a philosophical point of view, to the intimations of sense, as its objects are superior to the fleeting phenomena of Nature.

Now, we submit that this method of constructing a philosophy of Nature is radically vicious, and diametrically opposed to the only legitimate, the only possible way of attaining to sound knowledge. He is not content to tell us what is the order of things; he aspires, forsooth, to show what the order of things must be. We have no wish to disparage Metaphysical Science; it has a natural root in human reason, and a legitimate domain in the ample territory of human thought; but we protest against any attempt to extend it beyond its proper boundaries, or to apply it to subjects which belong to the province of experience and observation. The schemes which have been recently broached in Germany, and imitated in France, for constructing, at one time, a deductive Psychology, at another a deductive Physics, at a third a deductive Ethics, at a fourth a deductive Theory of Progress, at a fifth a deductive History of Religion, afford more than sufficient evidence that hitherto the spirit of the Baconian philosophy has been little understood, and still less appreciated, by our continental neighbors; and that the efforts of the highest genius have been sadly frustrated, in attempting the impracticable task of extracting from mere reason that knowledge which can only be acquired in the school of experience. This is our second objection.

3. The system of Spinoza is vicious, because it applies a mere abstraction of the human mind to account for whatever is real and concrete in the universe. We have no sympathy with those who rail at all abstract ideas, as if they were imaginary essences or mere illusions; we recognize the faculty of abstraction as one of the wisest provisions of Nature, and one of the most useful powers belonging to the mind of man,—a power which comes into action with the first dawn of infant intelligence, and is only matured as reason rises into manhood, till it becomes the internal spring of all Philosophy and Science. Nor do we hold that an abstract idea is necessarily an unreality, or a mere negation; for, without reviving the controversy between the Nominalists and Realists, or pronouncing any decision on the intricate questions which that controversy involved, we may say, in general terms, that the idea of a circle, of a square, or of a triangle, is neither unreal nor negative, but a very positive, and, withal, intelligible thing. It is the idea of that which is essential to the nature of each of these figures respectively, and common to all possible figures of the same class, whatever may be their accidental varieties, whether in point of dimension or form. And so the idea of Being or Substance, although it be highly abstract, is not necessarily unreal or negative; it is the idea of existence, or of that which is common to everything that is, abstraction being made of every diversity by which one being is distinguished from another. Conscious that we ourselves exist, and observing that other beings exist around us, we strike off the peculiarities which belong to individuals, and form the general idea which includes nothing but what is common to all, and yet contains a positive element, which is the object of one of the strongest convictions of the human mind.[125] The conception of Infinite Being contains the positive element of being, abstraction being made of all limitation or bounds. That this is a real, legitimate, and useful conception, we have no disposition to deny; we cannot divest ourselves of it; it springs up spontaneously from the innermost fountain of thought. But we cannot accept the account which Spinoza has given of its nature and origin, and still less can we assent to the application which he has made of it. He describes it as the idea of absolute, necessary, self-existent, eternal Being; and he traces its origin, not to the combined influence of experience and abstraction, acting under the great primitive law of causality, but to an immediate perception, or direct intuition, of reason. Now, we submit that the concept of being, and the concept of absolute self-existent being, are perfectly distinct from each other, and that they spring from different laws of thought. The concept of being applies to everything that exists, without reference to the cause or manner of its existence; and this springs simply from experience and abstraction. The concept of self-existent being, which is equally suggested by the laws of our mental constitution, does not apply to everything that exists, but only to that whose existence is not originated or determined by any other being; and this concept springs also from experience and abstraction, combined, however, with the law or principle of causality, which teaches us that no change can occur in Nature, and that nothing can ever come into being, without a cause, and prompts us to infer from the fact of existence now, the conclusion that something must have existed from all eternity. The origin of each of these concepts may thus be naturally accounted for by the known laws of our mental constitution, without having recourse to any faculty of intellectual intuition such as Spinoza describes,—a faculty independent of experience, and superior to it,—a faculty which gazes direct on Absolute Being, and penetrates, without the aid of any intermediate sign or manifestation, into the very essence of God. Spinoza has not discriminated aright between these two concepts, in respect either of their nature or their origin. He has not overlooked, indeed, the distinction, between abstract ideas and the intellectual intuitions, of which he speaks; but he confounds the concept of being with the concept of self-existent being, as if the two were identical, or as if being could not be predicated of anything, otherwise than as it is a "mode" or affection of the one only "substance." A sounder Psychology has taught us that our conception of existence arises, in the first instance, from our own conscious experience; and that, when this conception subsequently expands into the idea of Absolute Being, and results in the belief of a necessary, self-existent, and eternal Cause, the new element which is thus added to it may be accounted for by the principle of causality, which constitutes one of the fundamental laws of human thought, and which, if it may be said to resemble intuition in the rapidity and clearness with which it enables us to discern the truth, differs essentially from that immediate intuition of which Spinoza speaks, since it is dependent on experience, and, instead of gazing direct on Absolute Being, makes use of intermediate signs and manifestations, by which it rises to the knowledge of "the unseen and eternal."

We submit, further, that a system which rests on the mere idea of Being as its sole support, cannot afford any satisfactory explanation of real and concrete existences. The idea of Being is one of our most abstract conceptions; it is associated, indeed, with an invincible belief in the reality of Being,—a belief which springs up spontaneously, along with the idea itself, from our own conscious experience. It is even associated with an invincible belief in necessary, self-existent, and eternal Being,—a belief which springs from the principle of causality, or that law of thought whereby, from the fact that something exists now, we instinctively conclude that something must have existed from all eternity. But neither the simple concept of Being, which is derived from experience and framed by abstraction, nor the additional concept of self-existent Being, which springs from the action of our rational faculties on the data furnished by experience, can afford any explanation of the nature and origin of the real, concrete existences in the universe. These must be studied in the light of their own appropriate evidence; they must be interpreted, and not divined; they cannot be inferred deductively from any, even the highest and most abstract, conception of the human mind. Yet the philosophy of Spinoza attempts to explain all the phenomena of the universe by the idea of Absolute Being; it accounts for the concrete by the abstract; it represents all individual beings as mere modes or affections of one universal substance; in other words, it realises the abstract idea of thought and extension, but denies the existence of bodies and souls, otherwise than as manifestations of these eternal essences.

4. The system of Spinoza is vicious, because his whole reasoning on the subject of Creation is pervaded by a transparent fallacy. He affirms the impossibility of Creation, and attempts to demonstrate his position. But how? By proving that a "substance" cannot be produced. And why may not "a substance" be produced? Because, by the definition, "a substance" is that which is "self-existent." In other words, a self-existent substance cannot be created,—a truism which scarcely required the apparatus of a geometrical proof by means of propositions, scholia, and corollaries, or, as Professor Saisset says, with laconic naïveté, "ce qui a à peine besoin d'être demontré." But, while the only proof that is offered extends no further than to self-existent or uncreated substance, it is afterwards applied to everything that exists, so as to exclude the creation even of that which is not self-existent; and this on the convenient assumption that whatever exists must be either a "substance," or an "attribute," or a "mode." And thus, partly by an ambiguity of language, partly by an arbitrary and gratuitous assumption, he excludes the possibility of Creation altogether. Surely it might have occurred to him that by proving the necessary existence of an uncreated Being—a doctrine held by every Christian Theist—he did not advance one step towards the disproof of the possibility of creation, nor even towards the establishment of his favorite theory of unisubstancisme; for, grant that there is an uncreated and self-existent Being; grant, even, that there can be no more than one,—would it follow that there can be no created and dependent beings, or that they can only exist as "modes" or "affections" of that absolute Essence? Might they not exist as creatures, as products, as effects, without partaking of the nature of their cause?[126] Yet, if there be one idea more than another which Spinoza is anxious to extirpate, it is that of creation, and he summons the whole strength, both of his logic and sarcasm, when he has to deal with the argument from "final causes." And no marvel; for the doctrine of a creation would cut up his system by the roots. The radical difference, in fact, between Theism and Pantheism mainly consists in this: that the former regards creation as distinct from the Creator, as the product of His omnipotent and free will, as the object of His constant providential care, as the subject of His supreme control and government; whereas the latter represents it as a necessary emanation from the Divine substance, as an eternal development of the uncreated Essence; the finite, in all its forms, being a "mode" of the infinite, and the temporary phases of nature so many transient but ever-renewed manifestations of the unchangeable and eternal. These two conceptions are diametrically opposed; they cannot admit of conciliation or compromise; and hence the daring attempt of Spinoza to prove the impossibility of creation, even when he admits the existence of an Infinite and Eternal Being.