Pierre Bayle's Cartesian Metaphysics: Rediscovering Early Modern Philosophy (Routledge Studies in Seventeenth-Century Philosophy)

Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics

Routledge Studies in Seventeenth-Century Philosophy

1. The Soft Underbelly of Reason The Passions in the Seventeenth Century Edited by Stephen Gaukroger 2. Descartes and Method A Search for a Method in Meditations Daniel E. Flage and Clarence A. Bonnen 3. Descartes’ Natural Philosophy Edited by Stephen Gaukroger, John Schuster and John Sutton 4. Hobbes and History Edited by G. A. J. Rogers and Tom Sorell 5. The Philosophy of Robert Boyle Peter R. Anstey 6. Descartes Belief, Scepticism and Virtue Richard Davies 7. The Philosophy of John Locke New Perspectives Edited by Peter R. Anstey 8. Receptions of Descartes Cartesianism & Anti-Cartesianism in Early Modern Europe Edited by Tad M. Schmaltz 9. Material Falsity and Error in Descartes’ Meditations Cecilia Wee

10. Leibniz’s Final System Monads, Matter, and Animals Glenn A. Hartz 11. Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics Rediscovering Early Modern Philosophy Todd Ryan

Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics Rediscovering Early Modern Philosophy

Todd Ryan

New York

London

First published 2009 by Routledge 270 Madison Ave, New York, NY 10016 Simultaneously published in the UK by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN

Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business This edition published in the Taylor & Francis e-Library, 2009. To purchase your own copy of this or any of Taylor & Francis or Routledge’s collection of thousands of eBooks please go to www.eBookstore.tandf.co.uk.

© 2009 Todd Ryan All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark Notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Ryan, Todd, 1967– Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian metaphysics : rediscovering early modern philosophy / by Todd Ryan. p. cm.—(Routledge studies in seventeenth-century philosophy ; 11) Includes bibliographical references and index. 1. Bayle, Pierre, 1647–1706. 2. Descartes, René, 1596–1650. 3. Metaphysics. I. Title. B1825.Z7R93 2009 194—dc22 2008050457 ISBN 0-203-87692-X Master e-book ISBN

ISBN10: 0-415-77018-1 (hbk) ISBN10: 0-203-87692-X (ebk) ISBN13: 978-0-415-77018-7 (hbk) ISBN13: 978-0-203-87692-3 (ebk)

To My Parents

Contents

Abbreviations and Editions Preface

ix xiii

Introduction

1

1

Bayle and Cartesianism

8

2

Mind-Body Dualism

33

3

Critique of Lockean Superaddition

50

4

The Problem of Causation

63

5

Leibniz and the Preestablished Harmony

95

6

Spinoza’s Monism

114

7

Mechanism and Natural Theology

137

Notes Bibliography Index

161 209 219

Abbreviations and Editions

WORKS BY BAYLE CB

Correspondance de Pierre Bayle, edited by Elizabeth Labrousse, et al. (Voltaire Foundation: Oxford, 1999–).

DHC

Dictionnaire historique et critique, 4 vols. (Amsterdam, Leiden, The Hague and Utrecht, 1740). Cited by article, remark and page.

LI

Paul Denis, “Lettres inédites de Pierre Bayle,” Revue d’histoire littéraire de la France 19–20 (1912–1913): 422–53, 916–38, 430–49.

NRL

Nouvelles de la République des Lettres. (Slatkine Reprints: Geneva, 1966).

OD

Oeuvres Diverses de M. Pierre Bayle, 4 vols. (The Hague, 1727–1731). Reprinted and supplemented with a fifth volume by Georg Olms, 1968–1982.

ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS There exists no complete, modern English translation of the Dictionnaire. Where available I have made use of P

Historical and Critical Dictionary Selections, edited by Richard Popkin (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1965). Reprint, Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing, 1991.

Translations from articles not included in Popkin and from all works other than the Dictionnaire are my own.

x

Abbreviations and Editions

WORKS BY ARNAULD OA

Oeuvres de Messire Antoine Arnauld, 43 vols. (Paris: Sigismond D’Arnay, 1775).

TFI

On True and False Ideas, New Objections to Descartes’ Meditations, and Descartes’ Replies, edited by Elmar J. Kremer (Lewistown: Edwin Mellen Press, 1990).

WORKS BY DESCARTES AT

Oeuvres de Descartes, 12 vols., edited by C. Adam and P. Tannery (Paris: CNRS/Vrin, 1964–1976). Cited by volume and page number.

CSM

The Philosophical Writings of Descartes, 3 vols., edited by John Cottingham, Robert Stoothoff, and Dugald Murdoch (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985–1991). Cited by volume and page number.

PP

Principles of Philosophy.

WORKS BY FONTENELLE OCF

Oeuvres complètes, 3 vols., edited by G. B. Depping, (Paris: 1818). Reprint, Geneva: Slatkine, 1968.

WORKS BY HUME T

A Treatise of Human Nature, edited by David Fate Norton and Mary J. Norton (Oxford: Clarendon, 2000).

WORKS BY LEIBNIZ AG

Philosophical Essays, edited by Roger Ariew and Daniel Garber (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing, 1989).

G

Die philosophischen Schriften von G. W. Leibniz, 7 vols., edited by C. J. Gerhardt (Berlin, 1875–1890). Reprint, Hildesheim: Georg Olms, 1965. Cited by volume and page number.

L

G. W. Leibniz: Philosophical Papers and Letters, 2nd ed., edited by Leroy E. Loemker (Dordrecht: D. Reidel, 1969).

Abbreviations and Editions MP

The Leibniz-Arnauld Correspondence, edited by H. T. Mason (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1967).

WF

Leibniz’s ‘New System’ and Associated Contemporary Texts, edited by R. S. Woolhouse and Richard Francks (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997).

WORKS BY LOCKE Essay

An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, edited by Peter H. Nidditch (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1975). Cited by book, chapter, section, and page number.

Works

The Works of John Locke. A New Edition, Corrected, 10 vols. (London, 1823).

WORKS BY MALEBRANCHE JS

Dialogues on Metaphysics and on Religion, edited by Nicholas Jolley and David Scott (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997).

LO

The Search After Truth, edited by Thomas M. Lennon and Paul J. Olscamp (Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 1980).

OCM

Oeuvres Complètes de Malebranche, 20 vols., edited by André Robinet (Paris: Vrin, 1958–1978). Cited by volume and page number.

WORKS BY SPINOZA C

The Collected Works of Spinoza, Vol. I, edited by Edwin Curley (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1985).

DPP

Descartes’s “Principles of Philosophy” (Renati Des Cartes Principiorum Philosophiae).

E

Ethics (Ethica).

Ep

Letters (Epistolae).

Geb

Spinoza Opera, 4 vols., edited by Carl Gebhardt (Heidelberg: Carl Winters, 1925).

KV

Short Treatise (Korte Verhandeling).

xi

Preface

The richness, diversity, and sheer massiveness of Pierre Bayle’s writings present the commentator with an almost inexhaustible field of study. Philosopher, theologian, journalist, historian, political theorist—each of these roles is successively adopted by Bayle in his vast oeuvre. In this essay I focus on just one of many facets of Bayle’s writings, namely, his treatment of a host of metaphysical issues that the rise of the mechanist philosophy, and in particular of Cartesianism, had posed for seventeenth-century philosophers. More specifically, I examine how and to what extent Cartesianism broadly construed informs Bayle’s own metaphysical commitments, as well as his critical reaction to several of his most prominent contemporaries. My choice of topic was guided partly by personal predilection, partly by a sense that this aspect of Bayle’s thought had been somewhat neglected in favor of his admittedly captivating discussions of such issues as skepticism, toleration, atheism, and the problem of evil. In this sense I conceive of the present work as complimentary to other book-length studies of Bayle that have appeared in English over the last half century, all of which have taken as their primary focus the theological and ethical dimensions of Bayle’s thought. Of these Walter Rex’s Essays on Pierre Bayle and Religious Controversy and Thomas Lennon’s Reading Bayle merit special mention. It should go without saying that I make no claim to have exhausted the rich and varied metaphysical discussions to be found in Bayle. On the contrary, limitations of space have dictated that I leave aside numerous discussions whose interest in many cases equals that of the topics I have chosen for inclusion. Thus, I say relatively little or nothing, for example, about Zeno’s paradoxes of motion, animal consciousness, and the nature of time. Some of these topics have received attention from other scholars; some I hope to make the object of future studies. Bayle is not a systematic philosopher, and in forging an interpretation, the critic must of necessity draw from the widest possible range of sources. Because many of the texts under discussion will likely be less familiar to the general reader, I have quoted more liberally than might have been necessary in a comparable study of, say, Descartes or Hume. For convenience I have included the original text wherever the translation is my own.

xiv Preface In the course of writing this book I have incurred many debts, which although they cannot be fully discharged with mere words of gratitude, must nonetheless be acknowledged. I received helpful comments on early drafts of several chapters from my colleagues in the Philosophy Department at Trinity College, as well as from Laird Addis, Richard Fumerton, Annemarie Butler, Claudia Schmidt, and especially Benjamin Hill. Jeffrey Brower helped render a number of translations of Scholastic Latin into more natural, idiomatic English; David King did as much for several passages in French. I would particularly like to thank Thomas Lennon for his generous support and encouragement and for our many fruitful conversations about Bayle. Above all, I would like to express my deep gratitude to Phillip D. Cummins, by whom I was introduced not only to Bayle, but to the practice of philosophy itself. Without his painstaking criticism, patient advising, and unfailing good humor this book would not exist. Finally, my heartfelt thanks to Maichan for her unfailing support and encouragement, even when she secretly wondered if the project would ever come to completion. Portions of the material in Chapter 2 originally appeared in “Bayle’s Defense of Mind-Body Dualism,” Aufklärung 16 (2004). An earlier version of Chapter 3 was published as “Bayle’s Critique of Lockean Superaddition,” in the Canadian Journal of Philosophy 36, no. 4 (2006). A section of Chapter 4 draws on “Bayle and Occasionalism” in Pierre Bayle (1647– 1706), le philosophe de Rotterdam: Philosophy, Religion and Reception, edited by Wiep van Bunge and Hans Bots. Leiden-Boston: Brill, 2008. Permission to incorporate this material into the present volume is gratefully acknowledged. Todd Ryan Hartford, Connecticut

Introduction

. . . quorum opiniones cum tam variae sint tamque inter se dissidentes, alterum fieri profecto potest ut earum nulla, alterum certe non potest ut plus una vera sit. (Cicero, De Natura Deorum 1.2.5)

Perhaps more than any other figure in the early modern period, Pierre Bayle’s vast oeuvre has been the object of a bewildering variety of interpretations. In the three centuries since his death, Bayle has been alternately read as a skeptic, deist, fideist, atomist, atheist, Calvinist, Jew, Manichean, and a good deal more. If recent years have seen a winnowing of the field of interpretations, the disagreement surrounding them has only intensified. In the English-speaking world Bayle has been widely regarded as a skeptic, although precisely what kind of skeptic has been a matter of dispute. In the introduction to his translation of the Dictionnaire, Richard Popkin characterizes that work as a “Summa Sceptica”, arguing that Bayle’s skepticism is most closely aligned with Pyrrhonism of a sort without clear precedent in the modern era.1 While acknowledging the influence of the French skeptical tradition, Popkin emphasizes the fundamental differences that separate Bayle from the leading figures of that school. Unlike Montaigne whose Apology for Raymond Sebond relied heavily on the standard skeptical tropes that aim to call into question the adequacy of sense perception and reason as a foundation of knowledge, Bayle undertook to refute every theory individually and “on its own terms.”2 As Popkin portrays it, Bayle’s modus operandi is to adopt provisionally, as a kind of dato non concesso, the principles and presuppositions of his dogmatic opponents in order to lay bare the inconsistencies and contradictions latent in their system. Still, not content to refute the particular theory under discussion, Bayle uses the occasion “to generalize the attack to all theories and to show the hopeless abysses to which all human intellectual endeavors lead.”3 Thus, in both its aims and achievements Bayle’s philosophical activity is, in Popkin’s view, wholly destructive. Indeed, such is the scope of Bayle’s Pyrrhonism that the result is nothing less than “the utter and total reductio ad absurdum (quite literally) of all of our intellectual pretensions.”4 However, for Popkin, Bayle’s most powerful and original contribution to modern skepticism occurs in remark B of the article “Pyrrhon.” There Bayle introduces two abbés, one of whom—commonly referred to as the

2

Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics

abbé pyrrhonien—maintains that Christian theology has immeasurably, if unwittingly, strengthened the Pyrrhonian cause. At the heart of the argument is an attempt to show that évidence cannot be the criterion of truth, since we are in possession of propositions that are at once évident and false. Having announced his skeptical “paradox” the abbé pyrrhonien proceeds to enumerate a host of logical, metaphysical, and ethical principles that, he argues, are inconsistent with orthodox Christian theology. But, of course, having apparently undermined the rational foundations of our knowledge claims, Bayle does not simply abandon his reader to a benighted skepticism. Rather, he commends belief in Christian revelation as a remedy for the global failure of reason. Drawing on the important discussion in the Éclaircissement sur les pyrrhoniens, Popkin emphasizes the stark either-or dilemma with which Bayle confronts his readers: One must necessarily choose between philosophy and the Gospel. If you do not want to believe anything but what is evident and in conformity with the common notions, choose philosophy and leave Christianity. If you are willing to believe the incomprehensible mysteries of religion, choose Christianity and leave philosophy. For to have together évidence and incomprehensibility is something that cannot be. (DHC “Éclaircissement sur les pyrrhoniens” 644; P 429) For Popkin the crucial interpretive question is whether Bayle is sincere in his fideistic professions, a question Popkin cautiously answers in the affi rmative. 5 For Thomas Lennon, by contrast, Bayle most closely resembles the practitioners of Academic skepticism, understood not as the view that the one thing we know is that we know nothing, but above all as an unswerving commitment to intellectual integrity. Drawing on the work of José Maia Neto, Lennon suggests that the unity of Bayle’s writings can be found in his adherence to the methodological imperative that one approach philosophical questions not as an advocate for a particular position, but as an impartial reporter of all views, including one’s own.6 In this the Academic skeptic stands in marked contrast to the dogmatic philosophers, who willfully distort the views of their opponents by refusing to state them in their most coherent and defensible form. On this reading Bayle’s goal is to achieve knowledge, not to undermine it. Nor is his rejection of évidence in the article “Pyrrhon” a wholesale refusal to believe what appears to him to be true. Rather, Bayle’s skepticism rests on the conviction that a proposition may appear true and yet be false. What Bayle denies is that évidence or any other epistemic criterion is an infallible mark of truth. For this reason, Bayle rejects évidence only insofar as he withholds assent from one évident proposition whenever it confl icts with another. Thus, for Lennon, Bayle’s skepticism is “highly contingent and nontheoretical” insofar as it takes its rise not from an

Introduction

3

antecedent refusal to give assent to propositions of unchallenged évidence, but from the simple fact that such cases prove exceedingly rare.7 At about the same time that Popkin was developing his Pyrrhonian reading, Elizabeth Labrousse published the landmark two-volume study that would give impetus to a new era of Bayle scholarship. Rather than read Bayle as precursor to the eighteenth-century philosophes, Labrousse sought to relocate Bayle in the Calvinist milieu in which he was raised and in which he received his theological training. Labrousse also draws attention to the profound influence of Cartesianism on Bayle’s thought, emphasizing the decisive role exercised by both Descartes and Malebranche. However, Labrousse’s interpretation suffers somewhat from a tendency to see Bayle as the anti-“méditatif,” driven to take up philosophical questions by an insatiable curiosity, but temperamentally ill-suited to participate fully in the great philosophical movements of his day. Likewise, Labrousse is perhaps too willing to explain the numerous textual confl icts that make interpreting Bayle so puzzling by appeal to psychological considerations and even to a certain naïvité. For Labrousse “it is above all in Bayle’s personality that we must seek the factors that combine these very different intellectual attitudes into a unity that is less doctrinal than psychological.”8 One of the many virtues of the work of Gianluca Mori is his insistence on viewing Bayle as an original, even pioneering, philosopher. Refusing to attribute the anomalous passages in Bayle’s writings to a spontaneous and unchecked passion for dialectic, Mori portrays Bayle as fearlessly and implacably pursuing philosophical arguments to their logical—and generally unorthodox—conclusions. Studiously avoiding the question of Bayle’s sincerity, Mori focuses instead on what he takes to be the logic of Bayle’s position, concerning which Mori states unequivocally that “all paths of Bayle’s philosophical reflections lead to atheism.”9 For Mori, Bayle’s works must be seen as posing a stark choice: philosophical atheism or irrational fideism. What Bayle demonstrates is that unfettered exercise of reason leads not to skepticism, but “materialistic atheism.” While he acknowledges the prominent place occupied by skepticism in the Dictionnaire, Mori rejects the Pyrrhonian reading of Bayle, pointing in particular to Bayle’s unwavering commitment to the objectivity of logical and ethical principles and to our capacity for achieving certain knowledge of them. Mori underscores Bayle’s contention that to embrace the fideistic alternative would amount to a complete renunciation of all claims to knowledge in these domains. By contrast atheism, which is burdened neither by the irrational mysteries of revelation nor the need to explain the presence of natural and moral evil in the world, poses no threat to our knowledge of logical and ethical truths. In metaphysics as well Bayle favorably contrasts the consistency and coherence of materialistic atheism with the difficulties that attend even the most philosophically sophisticated system of orthodox Christianity, Malebranchism. The result, Mori argues, is the thorough and unequivocal defeat of

4

Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics

orthodox Christianity, and more broadly of every system that posits the existence of a transcendent, providential God. The difficulties raised by Bayle’s oeuvre are deep, and despite the significant advances in our understanding of Bayle that have been made in the last half century defi nitive solutions remain elusive. While acknowledging the importance of these larger interpretive questions, the task I have set myself in the present work differs from earlier studies in both scope and ambition. Rather than attempt to resolve what Lennon aptly calls the “Bayle enigma,” I shall focus more narrowly on Bayle’s treatment of a set of metaphysical issues, which number among the most pressing problems faced by modern philosophers in the latter half of the seventeenth century. Among these are causation, the nature of mind, the relation of God and world, and the viability and limits of mechanism. My interest then is in Bayle’s metaphysical thought, and more particularly in its relation to Cartesianism. This is not to say that I shall leave wholly to one side the broader interpretive questions that have been the principal occupation of Bayle scholars. Rather, my approach to them shall be oblique. To anticipate, through a series of discrete though interconnected studies, I hope to show that Bayle has deeper Cartesian commitments than either the reading of him as Pyrrhonian skeptic or materialistic atheist can comfortably allow. Of course, there are in the literature a number of excellent treatments of various aspects of Bayle’s metaphysics. However, these discussions have tended to be piecemeal in their approach or undertaken from the point of view of a more canonical figure that Bayle is criticizing (or influencing). Less common has been interest in Bayle’s arguments for their own sake, much less for what they can tell us about Bayle’s philosophical commitments. Thus, there is need, I believe, for a more systematic study of Bayle’s metaphysical writings, one informed by a broader knowledge of his philosophical outlook than can be reasonably expected in a work whose principal interest is with, say, Leibniz or Hume. To my mind the virtues of this approach are several. Most obviously, by focusing too narrowly on the search for a unifying interpretation, we risk losing sight of the rich variety of arguments, whose interest is at once philosophical and historical. To take just one example, consider the argument from continuous creation, which many commentators have come to regard as Malebranche’s best argument for occasionalism. As I show in Chapter 4, Bayle maintains that the theological doctrine of continuous creation coupled with the Cartesian ontology of substance entails that no created being can be a real cause of change. The implication Bayle draws is that continuous creation is incompatible with the ascription of freedom of indifference to human agents and that as a result the appeal to human free will as a means of reconciling God’s sovereign perfections with the fact of moral evil is a failure. Like so much in Bayle, this line of argument inevitably raises the question of motivation. In pointing out what he takes to be an internal inconsistency in orthodox Christianity is Bayle seeking to

Introduction

5

overturn naïve overconfidence in the ultimate rationality of faith, or is he attempting to undermine that faith altogether? No reader can fail to pose such questions. Yet, neither should we lose sight of the fact that Bayle here develops a fascinating argument for occasionalism and one that arguably surpasses Malebranche’s own version of the argument. Moreover, it is only on the basis of a secure and detailed understanding of Bayle’s positions on a range of philosophical issues that we can hope to arrive at a satisfying interpretation of Bayle’s thought as a whole. Even as subtle a commentator as Gianluca Mori has perhaps not made full use of this method. Although my principal aim in this study has been to provide the detailed analysis that might help lay the groundwork for resolving the Bayle enigma, my choice of topics has been guided by the conviction that Bayle can be profitably thought of as a Cartesian skeptic. By this term I do not refer to the escalating series of arguments deployed by the meditator to call into doubt all of his previously accepted beliefs. Curiously, Bayle shows surprisingly little interest in Descartes’s skeptical methodology, and what little he does say suggests a rather deflationary reading of the role of doubt in the argumentative structure of the Meditations.10 Rather, like Labrousse, I believe that Bayle is convinced by the metaphysical considerations in favor of several of the central claims of Cartesianism, including the ontology of substance, the analysis of matter as res extensa, mind-body dualism, and occasionalism. To this extent Bayle can be thought of as Cartesian. Nevertheless, Bayle is neither a systematic nor a dogmatic philosopher. He openly acknowledges the seemingly irresolvable conflict between certain of these metaphysical theses—most notably occasionalism—and a number of évident principles, particularly those drawn from ethics. To this extent Bayle is a skeptic, albeit a reluctant one. Thus, my reading of Bayle is perhaps closest to that of Lennon, with the difference that, as I argue in Chapter 1, Bayle maintains that évidence is not an absolute quality of beliefs, but one that admits of degrees. As a result Bayle insists that in cases of confl ict there can be epistemic justification for preferring one évident proposition to another.

BAYLE’S WORKS Before proceeding, it will be helpful to offer a brief summary of Bayle’s writings. Since several of his works fall outside the bounds of philosophy proper, I shall largely confi ne my attention to those texts central to the project I have set myself.11 The nominal aim of Bayle’s fi rst published work, the Pensées diverses sur la comète (1682, a revised and expanded edition appeared in 1683), is to demonstrate that comets and other celestial phenomena are neither signs of God’s displeasure with humankind nor harbingers of impending calamity. However, the Pensées is unmistakably a work of Protestant controversy whose deeper purpose is to attack Catholicism

6

Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics

by drawing a series of uncomfortable parallels with pagan idolatry. Among the so-called ‘paradoxes’ propounded by Bayle are that idolatry is a greater evil than atheism and that a society of atheists is more viable than a society of true Christians. In 1684 Bayle assumed the editorship of the Nouvelles de la République des Lettres, a position he occupied until ill-health forced him to resign in 1687. Each month Bayle reviewed recent works of theology, philosophy, history, and natural science, including texts by Boyle, Bernier, Fontenelle, Christian Huygens, and others. Of especial interest are Bayle’s reviews of several works by Malebranche, including the initial entries in his protracted debate with Arnauld. Among the other works predating the Dictionnaire, the most important for our purposes is a collection of four Latin texts, which constitute the most technical philosophical writings that Bayle would produce. The Systema Totius Philosohpiae is the set of lectures delivered by Bayle as professor of philosophy fi rst in Sedan and later in Rotterdam. Following the standard curriculum of the Protestant academies in France, the Systema is divided into four unequal parts, corresponding to the four traditional areas of philosophy: logic, ethics, physics, and metaphysics.12 Doubtless, Mori expresses the received wisdom concerning the Systema when he observes that “this eclectic manual chock-full of minute physical explanations . . . has scarcely held the attention of Bayle scholarship, and for good reason.”13 To be sure, the uncritical use of these lectures as a guide to Bayle’s philosophical commitments is subject to caution. On several occasions in the Systema Bayle stakes out positions, apparently for reasons of expediency, that he is known to reject. Thus, after raising the worry that the occasionalist account of causation threatens to place moral responsibility for sin squarely on God, Bayle resolves the difficulty by appealing to the traditional view that sin has no ontological reality and so requires no efficient cause—a view he categorically rejects elsewhere (OD IV, 485). Nevertheless, the Systema is an exceedingly important text in that it offers some indication of the kinds of philosophical issues that attracted the young professor’s interest as well as the general direction in which his sympathies lie. As Mori himself concedes, the Systema “indicates to us certain dominant themes in the philosophical and theological thought of its author.”14 More importantly, the Systema constitutes an indispensable aid for reconstructing Bayle’s understanding of numerous philosophical issues. The detailed formulations of arguments in the Systema are especially useful in those instances in which the corresponding discussion in the Dictionnaire amounts to little more than a cryptic allusion. Indeed, it is no exaggeration to say that in the majority of cases in which Bayle formulates a metaphysical argument in the Dictionnaire there exists a more developed antecedent in the Systema. Similar considerations apply, though to a lesser extent, to two of Bayle’s other early writings, the Theses philosophicae and the Dissertatio. The former is a collection of theses publicly defended in or around 1680. In it Bayle shows a decided preference for mechanist physics as well

Introduction

7

as mind-body dualism and occasionalism. The Dissertatio is a sustained defense of the Cartesian account of matter as res extensa against the objections of the pseudonymous Louis de la Ville. The last of Bayle’s Latin texts, the Objectiones a Poiret (1679), is a kind of critical commentary on the Cartesian rationalist theology of Pierre Poiret as presented in his Cogitationes rationales de Deo, animo et malo. Composed at the behest of Henri Sacrelaire, a mutual friend of Bayle and Poiret, the Objectiones was apparently not intended by Bayle for publication. Nonetheless, it appeared along with Poiret’s replies in an appendix to the second edition of the Cogitationes. On the strength of both internal and external evidence, Elizabeth Labrousse argued for a joint attribution of the text to Bayle and Sacrelaire, with the latter receiving the lion’s share of the credit.15 Recently, however, Gianluca Mori has convincingly argued for attributing the work exclusively to Bayle.16 The Objectiones is an extremely important text in that it shows Bayle exploring early on the weaknesses of Cartesian philosophy, especially in its application to rational theology. Yet once again Bayle’s text must be handled with caution. In his prefatory letter Bayle explains that his objections were composed “as if I had been charged with the duty of defending the opinion of those with whom M. Poiret disagrees.”17 Published in 1696, the Dictionnaire historique et critique is doubtless Bayle’s most familiar—and idiosyncratic—work. It is in the pages of the Dictionnaire that Bayle denounces Spinoza’s substance monism, critically engages with Leibniz’s preestablished harmony, reinvigorates Zeno’s paradoxes of motion, and a great deal more. It is also here that Bayle emphasizes the themes that would occupy him for the remainder of his life, among them skepticism, fideism, and the problem of evil. The appearance of the Dictionnaire embroiled Bayle in a good deal of controversy, which the four Éclaircissements appended to the second edition (1702) did little to dispel. As a result, Bayle’s fi nal works are largely taken up with these controversies. The Continuation des pensées diverses (1704) is an extended defense of Bayle’s earlier work against the objections of the Huguenot theologian Pierre Jurieu. In the Réponse aux questions d’un provincial (1703–1707) and the posthumous Entretiens de Maxime et de Themiste (1707), Bayle defends his rejection of rationalist theology against the increasingly hostile attacks of Isaac Jaquelot, Jacques Bernard, and Jean Le Clerc. These texts form the principal object of the study to which I now turn.

1

Bayle and Cartesianism

For Bayle the seventeenth century is defi ned by Cartesianism, which he considers to be the most sophisticated and compelling Christian philosophy yet devised. Though he praises the genius of a Gassendi or Leibniz, and acknowledges the breadth and power of Spinoza’s philosophical vision, it is the two Cartesians, Descartes and Malebranche, whom Bayle considers to be the greatest philosophers of the age. That Bayle should have placed Descartes at the center of the philosophical landscape comes as no surprise. Descartes’s influence in the second half of the seventeenth century was so pervasive as to be felt in nearly every aspect of French intellectual life, and a young professor of philosophy such as Bayle could hardly have been left unaffected. Nor was he alone in his estimation of Malebranche, whose fusion of Cartesian and Augustinian thought Bayle deemed “the work of a superior genius and one of the greatest productions of the human mind.”1 Yet despite its visible influence, the precise role of Cartesianism in Bayle’s early intellectual development is not easy to determine. Undoubtedly, Bayle acquired some rudimentary knowledge of Cartesian philosophy at the hands of his Jesuit teachers at Toulouse. However, the intellectual climate there was largely one of hostility to the new philosophy and so could hardly have furnished him with a solid foundation in Cartesian thought. Reflecting back on the eighteen months he spent at Toulouse, Bayle said of himself that if he “was animatedly opposed to anything at that time, it was to the new philosophy; for he vigorously disputed in favor of the Scholastic philosophy contained in his notebooks.”2 The anti-Cartesian bias of the curriculum is amply reflected in the list of theses publicly defended by Bayle at the conclusion of his studies in 1670. Among the positions he was expected to uphold were the impossibility of securing knowledge by means of the Cartesian method of doubt, the existence of real accidents, the irreducibility of material forms to purely geometrical modifications of matter, the power of God to create a vacuum, the rejection of animal automata, and the incompatibility of the Cartesian account of matter with the dogma of the Real Presence (OD VI, 2–11). As a result Bayle’s fi rst detailed—or at any rate, sympathetic—exposure to Cartesianism did not come until his studies of theology at the Geneva

Bayle and Cartesianism

9

Academy (1670–1672).3 Among the members of the faculty with whom Bayle developed close relations, two, Louis Tronchin and Jean-Robert Chouet, were markedly sympathetic to Cartesian philosophy. Tronchin, a professor of theology said by Bayle to possess “the most profound judgment there can be,” exercised a particular influence on Bayle by his use of Cartesian physics for the purposes of Protestant controversy.4 Although it is less likely that Bayle was formally enrolled in the philosophy course taught by Chouet, Bayle did frequent his weekly lectures on experimental physics. The orientation of both Tronchin and Chouet toward physics may help to explain why it was to this aspect of Cartesianism that Bayle seems to have been especially drawn in his early years. As a young professor of philosophy, Bayle assured his brother, “I am a great friend of the new philosophers, and I yearn for the year of physics, when I will throw myself into Cartesianism and the Epicurean atoms that the great Gassendi has reestablished so well. As for this year I must restrict myself to the old school and be a Peripatetic.”5 Indeed, if Bayle’s own testimony is to be believed, of the four branches of philosophy, it was in physics alone that Cartesianism had earned his allegiance. Writing to his brother Joseph, in 1677 Bayle declared, “as for me, I am a Peripatetic almost everywhere except in physics, in which I am entirely against Aristotle and in favor of M. Descartes.”6 However, we should not perhaps set too much store by the confl icting declarations of allegiance to one or another school of philosophy to be found in Bayle’s early letters. The tone and, indeed, substance of these self-characterizations is manifestly influenced by the circumstances under which they were composed.7 What can be safely inferred is the especial esteem in which the young Bayle held Cartesian physics. Still, the restriction should not be overemphasized. For Bayle’s conception of physics, if we may judge by his own lectures on the subject, is broad enough to include a great number of metaphysical questions, including the ontology of material substance, the nature of space and time, causation, and even mind-body dualism.8 It was sometime after leaving Geneva that Bayle fi rst became acquainted with the works of the thinker who would prove to have an even greater influence, Nicolas Malebranche. Unfortunately, it is difficult to state with confidence the extent of Bayle’s familiarity with Malebranche’s writings during the 1670s. Bayle’s letters from the period make scattered reference to Malebranche’s fi rst work, the Recherche de la Vérité (1674–1675), although at least some of what Bayle says suggests that he had little or no fi rsthand knowledge of the text immediately following its publication.9 However that may be, sometime during the late 1670s Bayle made close study of the Recherche, and by 1680 he had undertaken in the Dissertatio (Dissertation on the Essence of Body) a sustained defense of Malebranche’s endorsement of the res extensa account of body. Subsequently, Bayle read the Traité de la Nature et de la Grâce (1680) and followed the Arnauld–Malebranche debate with keen interest, reviewing several contributions from each side in the Nouvelles de la République des Lettres. Despite his self-conscious

10

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efforts at disinterestedness, Bayle’s reviews were widely thought to betray a partiality to the Oratorian. This perception seems to have been shared in some measure by Malebranche himself, who in a letter to Bayle on the occasion of a review of the Réponse à M. Arnauld modestly observed, “your inclination for me has seduced you.”10 The period of Bayle’s editorship of the Nouvelles saw an increasingly close interaction between him and Malebranche. In addition to his generally favorable reviews of Malebranche’s works, Bayle was instrumental in the publication of Malebranche’s Trois Lettres, even personally undertaking the correction of the galley proofs. In 1684 Bayle included an anonymous letter by Malebranche in a collection of replies to the virulent attack on Cartesianism by Louis de Valois. Later Bayle defended occasionalism against Fontenelle, and even took up his pen against Antoine Arnauld on behalf of Malebranche’s claim that all pleasure is a form of bonheur. This period was also marked by a thriving correspondence between the two. Unfortunately, none of Bayle’s letters to Malebranche survive, nor do the extant letters from Malebranche show any inclination on the part of the Oratorian to take part in serious philosophical dialogue, in spite of Bayle’s apparent attempts to engage him.11 Direct relations between the two men appear to have come to an end when ill-health forced Bayle to abandon editorship of the Nouvelles in 1687.12 In the following sections I will explore in some detail several fundamental principles of Cartesian, or more narrowly Malebranchean, provenance that are operative in Bayle’s thought. By singling out these positions I do not mean to imply that they constitute the whole of Cartesianism’s influence on Bayle. My choice has been guided by the prominent role these particular positions play in the metaphysical discussions with which I shall be concerned in the remainder of the book. Similarly, I do not suggest that Bayle accepted each of these positions uncritically and without reservation or revision. My principal aim in this fi rst chapter is to identify those positions to which Bayle shows strong inclination and to build a prima facie case for their centrality to his thinking about metaphysics. The extent to which he may have come to harbor reservations about certain of them will be duly considered. I begin with two doctrines, which though somewhat modest in appearance, lie at the heart of much of Bayle’s metaphysical thought, namely, the Cartesian ontology of substance and the analysis of matter as res extensa. The latter is of course foundational to Descartes’s mechanistic physics and his attempt to reconceive the physical realm in a manner more amenable to the methods and presuppositions of seventeenth-century natural science. By the former I mean the account of fi nite created entities as substances possessed of a principal attribute and a collection of further qualities that are only modally distinct from the substance itself. Although several of Bayle’s arguments for these views show the influence of his Cartesian predecessors, they are nonetheless of some independent interest on account of

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Bayle’s explicit defense of the positions against Scholastic opposition. I next consider Bayle’s position concerning the nature of fi nite minds, focusing on his general commitment to mind-body dualism as well as his hesitation in the face of the parallel conception of mind as res cogitans. I then turn to two crucial elements of Malebranche’s account of human cognition, the distinction between ideas and sentiments, and the so-called vision in God. Along the way I shall offer some brief remarks on Bayle’s rather complicated attitude toward occasionalism, a topic I shall take up at length in Chapter 4.

METAPHYSICS OF SUBSTANCE Descartes provides the most systematic exposition of his ontology of substance in the Principles of Philosophy. At the most basic level is the distinction between a thing and its qualities, that is, between substance and mode. For Descartes a substance is that which depends on no other thing for its existence. Because only God exists in absolute independence, strictly speaking, he alone is a substance. However, Descartes allows that created objects—bodies and minds—may be considered substances in the attenuated sense that their subsistence depends only on God’s continued concurrence.13 Every substance so understood possesses a single principal attribute, which constitutes its essence, and to which each of its remaining qualities is “referred” (PP I, 53; AT VIII, 25). The existence of these qualities, or modes, “presupposes” that of the principal attribute with the result that modes cannot exist independently of the substance to which they belong. The relations between substance, principal attribute, and mode are further clarified by the theory of distinctions put forward in the ensuing sections of the Principles. Descartes recognizes three grades of distinctness: real, modal, and conceptual (rationis). Two entities are said to be really distinct just in case each can exist without the other. Real distinction, which obtains only between substances, is indicated by our ability to conceive each entity without conceiving of the other (PP I, 60; AT VIII, 28). By contrast, there is only a modal distinction between, say, the spherical shape of a body and the body itself, since although the body can be clearly conceived apart from its particular shape, the shape cannot be so conceived apart from the body. Similarly, a particular sense perception, say the scent of a rose, is a mode of mental substance because it cannot be clearly understood apart from the concept of a thinking thing. Thus, while a substance is capable of existing without its modes, a mode cannot exist without the substance to which it belongs. This asymmetrical dependence of modes on their substance is sometimes expressed as the claim that a mode is nothing more than a “way of being” of its substance. Shape, for example, is simply the termination of the fi nite extension of which it is a mode.

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If a mode is not really distinct from the substance to which it belongs, what is the relation between a substance and its principal attribute? In a passage upon which later Cartesians would lay great stress, Descartes argues that there is only a conceptual distinction between a substance and its principal attribute on the grounds that we cannot “form a clear and distinct idea of the substance if we exclude from it the attribute in question” (PP I, 62; AT VIII, 30; CSM I, 214). Whereas the conceptual dependence of modes on their primary attributes reveals their ontological dependence, the primary attributes themselves do not conceptually presuppose any further property and so are capable of independent existence. As is well known, Descartes contends that thought and extension constitute the essence of material and mental substance respectively, insofar as they must be “considered as nothing else but thinking substance itself and extended substance itself” (PP I, 63; AT VIII, 30–31; CSM I, 215).14 Bayle’s thinking on these issues reflects a deep sympathy for both the general Cartesian substance-attribute-mode ontology, as well as the more specific claim that extension constitutes the principal attribute of material substance. Here I want to dwell on the former, reserving the analysis of matter as res extensa for the following subsection. Although Bayle offers comparatively few discussions of substance-attribute ontology in general— that is, in isolation from the particular question of the nature of body qua body—he is committed to the view that the essence of substance is constituted by a single principal attribute, which is only conceptually distinct from the substance itself. Thus, Bayle argues that a substance can have only one principal attribute, since were it to have more than one, the attributes, which are individually identical to the substance, would be identical to one another, which Bayle takes to be absurd on its face (OD III, 942b). Indeed, so conditioned is Bayle’s thought by Cartesian substance ontology that on at least one occasion he goes so far as to suggest that it is a shared commitment of all modern philosophers. Thus, he defends his reading of Book I of the Ethics with the assertion that Spinoza “admits, along with all other philosophers, that the attribute of a substance does not differ actually from that substance” (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 259; P 302–3). Likewise Bayle maintains that “modes are not entities distinct from their subject and superadded [to it].”15 Indeed, no accident can exist apart from its substance, since “all qualities of things presuppose that which intrinsically constitutes the thing of which they are qualities.”16 Following Descartes, Bayle holds that that in substance which accidents presuppose is the primary attribute. As he puts the point with respect to material substance, “all the modes of bodies are based on the essential attributes of bodies, which are the three dimensions” (DHC “Dicearque” rem. C, 286; P 67). Behind Bayle’s insistence that qualities are only modally distinct from their substance lies his opposition to the Catholic dogma of the Real Presence and the related account of transubstantiation. It is an article of

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Catholic faith that the body of Christ is really and wholly present in the consecrated host. At the time of consecration the underlying substance of the bread is annihilated and replaced with the substance of Christ’s body. Nevertheless, as the unaltered appearance of the host suggests, the sensible accidents of the bread remain. The difficulty confronting theologians was to explain how the sensible qualities of the bread could survive the destruction of their subject of inhesion. Thomas’s solution was to maintain that the quantity of the host is miraculously preserved independently of any subject of inherence, while the remaining sensible accidents immediately inhere in the quantity. To make room for the possibility of an accident that exists without inhering in any subject whatsoever, theologians distinguished inhaerentia actualis, or actual inherence in a subject from inhaerentia aptitudinalis. The latter was said to consist in the bare capacity, or rather propensity, for actual inherence. The continued existence of the quantity of the bread after the annihilation of its underlying substance was held not to violate the essential nature of accidents as that which inheres in a subject, since their essence was said to consist in inhaerentia aptitudinalis, rather than in actual inherence in a subject.17 As Dennis Des Chene has recently argued, the tendency among seventeenth-century opponents of Scholasticism was to dismiss real accidents as contradictory on the grounds that it is the very essence of an accident to inhere in another thing, thus ignoring the carefully drawn distinction between two kinds of inherence. Nor, he maintains, was the Scholastic position obviously ad hoc as those same opponents contended, since it is of a piece with the general tendency in Aristotelianism to locate the essences of things in their potentia rather than their actus.18 Des Chene emphasizes the difficulty faced by opponents of real accidents given the Scholastic view that God’s omnipotence entails that he can bring about any state of affairs that does not involve a formal contradiction. For it follows from this that the mere logical possibility of an accident subsisting without a subject is sufficient to ensure the coherence of the account. Ultimately, Des Chene suggests, critics of real accidents such as Descartes and Boyle tended to fall back on their general—and question-begging—assertion that all accidents are modifications and therefore incapable of independent existence.19 Although not above denouncing such distinctions as unintelligible or contradictory, one of the virtues of Bayle’s defense of the recentiores is his willingness to engage Scholastic philosophy on something closer to its own terms. In the case of real accidents, Bayle develops several arguments against the crucial distinction between the two kinds of inherence limned earlier. Chief among them is the assertion that to posit inhaerentia aptitudinalis as the essence of qualities threatens to undermine the categorical distinction between substance and accident, a distinction that is foundational to Aristotelian and Cartesian metaphysics alike. Bayle’s argument is that if there is no logical barrier to an accident existing without a subject, then by parity of reasoning, it is also logically possible that a substance

14

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might cease to exist independently—that is, that it might come to inhere in a subject. Accidents and substances would then be on equal footing, each capable of existing with or without actual inherence, thereby effacing any essential difference between the two. Perhaps the most natural reply for the defender of real accidents is that there remains an essential difference between substance and accident insofar as an accident can exist without a subject only by virtue of a supernatural act of God; in the order of nature accidents must actually inhere in a subject. In the case of substance the reverse is true. Therefore, the categorical distinction between substance and accident is preserved. Bayle’s response to this line of defense is striking. He writes: that a certain thing should occur by miracle or according to the laws of nature does not establish a lesser or greater agreement (convenientiam) with the essence of creatures, and moreover it is absurd to attribute a certain exigentiam to inanimate objects, such as a stone or whiteness. (OD IV, 504)20 I shall discuss the fi rst of these considerations at length in Chapter 3. For the moment it is sufficient to point out that in Bayle’s view the distinction between God’s natural and extraordinary concourse is not grounded in the ontology of created entities, since even a miracle must be compatible with the essences of things. From the point of view of the affected object, the distinction is purely extrinsic and so cannot be constitutive of its essence. The second response, based as it is on a reduction of the notion of fi nality to conscious, intentional thought, is admittedly less charitable. 21 I shall return to it in the fi nal chapter. A second argument against real accidents turns on the inconceivability of the relation of dependence that is supposed to unite what are two really distinct entities into a single being. The premise is not without analogy to Hume’s claim that there can be no ontological dependence between really distinct entities.22 However, for Bayle the argument is expressed rather in terms of the inconceivability of one entity determining or qualifying another from which it is really distinct. Thus, he argues that: just as it is impossible that a thing be formally white by virtue of the whiteness of another thing, or joyful by virtue of another’s joy, so too it is impossible that a thing be formally extended by another’s extension—that is, by an extension that is really distinct from it. . . . These arguments prove not only that extension is not distinct from body, but also that the accidents of body are modifications of extension and in no way distinct from it. (OD IV, 135)23 In a passage from the Dictionnaire Bayle makes much the same argument concerning the mind. He writes:

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I do not understand how those theologians who posit a real distinction between the soul and the modifications of the soul dare say that a change occurs in man when he goes from the state of innocence to that of crime. . . . According to these theologians, when man sins an entity that is distinct from the soul is produced, which entity is joined to the soul, and forms with it a whole that contains two really distinct beings, of which the one is called substance and the other accident. I maintain that this union does not change the soul. . . . [I]f the soul were really distinct from its sin, it would in no way pass to a different state. (DHC “Illyricus” rem. C, 839)24 In both cases the suggestion is that by defi nition a real accident is capable of existing independently of its subject, and therefore substance and accident constitute two really distinct entities. But, Bayle maintains that it is inconceivable how one entity might be a state or determination of another from which it is really distinct. Whatever kinds of union we are able to conceive between two such entities, be it the union of soul and body (informing), the mixing of gold and silver coins (spatial proximity), the application of gold to the surface of wood (adhesion), or the manner in which theologians traditionally maintained that God is present to the world (praesentia), none amounts to a modification of the one by the other. Wood that is gilded does not become gold, nor does the union of body and mind render the soul material (OD IV, 122). Yet the Aristotelians maintain that substance and accident, although likewise really distinct, unite in such a way that the one is a determination or state of the other. Of course it would be open to a defender of real accidents to reply that the relation of inherence is sui generis and therefore the counterexamples marshaled by Bayle are strictly irrelevant. Ultimately, Bayle’s complaint is best read as a challenge to the intelligibility of the notion of inherence that underlies the account of real accidents.

THE NATURE OF BODY To Bayle’s mind no other thesis of Cartesian philosophy enjoys the certainty and fecundity of the analysis of matter as res extensa. In one of his earliest philosophical works, the Dissertatio, Bayle offers a meticulous defense of the position that “the nature of corporeal substance consists in actual extension” (OD IV, 135). 25 Again, Bayle’s lectures in philosophy abound with affi rmations of this fundamental claim of Cartesian physics.26 Even in the least Cartesian of his early writings, the Objections to Poiret, a text in which Bayle explicitly adopts the role of spokesperson for the critics of Cartesianism, Bayle can fi nd no reason to dispute the claim that every extended object is a body. 27 Bayle’s own arguments for the view are in the main borrowed from his Cartesian predecessors. Thus, he defi nes the

16

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essence of a thing as that which is conceived as being fi rst in it and which when taken away the thing is taken away, and which remaining while all else is taken away, the thing remains. Such is the relation of extension to matter, so he concludes the essence of matter is actual extension. 28 Nor are these arguments confi ned to his early writings. In a letter composed near the end of his life Bayle continued to number himself among the Cartesians with respect to this point. Asked by Coste to comment on Locke’s criticism of the res extensa account of body, Bayle replied: the reason for which we establish extension as the essence of body is not well characterized [in the Essay]. . . . We do so principally because having separated by mental abstraction every sensible quality from the body: sounds, odors . . . , etc.; we are left with an idea of the three dimensions, which we call body, and without which we do not conceive that a thing could be a body. (July 20, 1703; OD IV, 831)29 However, if Bayle’s arguments for the doctrine are largely culled from his Cartesian predecessors, his particular understanding of the view is informed by his own metaphysical commitments. Bayle conceives of extension as the state of having parts outside of parts (partes extra partes).30 Because matter just is its extension, it follows that by its very nature matter is composed of really distinct, spatially arranged parts (OD IV, 229). Beyond extension, body qua body is characterized by a number of other necessary attributes, or properties, such as divisibility, impenetrability, and occupation of place. In one sense, there is for Bayle a clear hierarchy among extension and these further properties in that the latter are conceived as following from the essence of body as extended.31 Yet Bayle insists that the conceptual distinctions between these qualities reflect no ontological complexity on the side of the object. For Bayle, just as there is no distinction—not even a modal one—between a body and its extension, so too the necessary properties of matter are “really identical” to its extension. Still, Bayle allows that there is a kind of logical or conceptual priority of extension to divisibility, impenetrability, and occupation of place, which justifies treating it alone as the essence of body.32 When Bayle states that the essence of matter is actual extension, he is employing the technical vocabulary of the Scholastics who drew a distinction between quantitas actualis and quantitas radicalis (or aptitudinalis).33 A thing is said to have quantitas actualis if it has distinct parts existing one outside the other—that is, standing to one another in defi nite spatial relations so as to constitute an extended thing. Quantitas radicalis is the distinction of parts and the bare capacity to exist one outside the other. Behind the distinction lies once again the Catholic dogma of the Real Presence. A difficulty arises because when the body of Christ replaces the substance of the bread, the extension of the bread survives the annihilation of its underlying subject. Therefore, Christ’s body cannot be extended in the Eucharist,

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since two extended objects cannot occupy the same location. Nevertheless, like all material objects, the body of Christ must have quantity. The challenge then was to explain how a body can possess quantity, and yet be unextended. As in the case of real accidents, the key to the solution lay in the distinction between the potentia to a given state and its actualization— in this case with regard to being spatially extended. Thus, according to the Scholastics, the quantity that is essential to matter is not the quantity that confers spatial extension (quantitas actualis), but merely quantitas radicalis (OD IV, 287). By virtue of this distinction it was claimed that matter can have really distinct parts, and yet be unextended, since all of its parts might exist penetratively in a single, unextended point, if their potentia to exist in a spatially ordered manner is miraculously impeded by God.34 Bayle offers two main arguments against the possibility of unextended matter. The fi rst attempts to show that in such a state, matter could not occupy a defi nite spatial location, and therefore could not exist in rerum natura. The argument runs as follows. If an entity can be formally extended, it is itself composed of parts; but every part of matter can be formally extended, therefore every part of matter is composed of parts. It follows that every part of matter is infi nitely divisible. Therefore the region of space occupied by any part of matter must in turn be infi nitely divisible. Now whatever occupies a space must exactly fill that space. Therefore, no unextended point can occupy a region of space, since no unextended point can exactly correspond to an infi nitely divisible spatial region (OD IV, 118–19). Bayle’s second argument draws on objections to the composition of the continuum by unextended points. Simply stated, the argument is that if it were possible for all of the parts of matter to exist interpenetrated in a single point, it would be impossible for them to be reconfigured so as to compose an actual extension, since not even an infinity of parts with no magnitude could compose an extended entity (OD IV, 119–20). There can be no question but that Bayle’s early enthusiasm for the Cartesian ontology of material substance is owing in some measure to its potential for Protestant apologetics.35 Indeed, in his earliest account of the intellectual climate at the Academy in Geneva, Bayle extols the deft polemical use of Cartesian philosophy made by Louis Tronchin. Writing to his father, Bayle exclaims: You would not believe the advantages [Tronchin] draws from the philosophy of M. Descartes—which he espouses rather openly—to combat those of the Roman Church. In fact, since according to the principles of that great man, place is nothing other than the body itself, which is proved by arguments that are clear as day, we obviate a legion of chicaneries and empty distinctions with which they have armed themselves in order to avoid the absurdities that follow from locating the same body in several places. (Pierre Bayle to Jean Bayle, September 11, 1671; CB I, 470)36

18 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics In the same letter Bayle cites several other Cartesian positions that favor Protestant theology, including “the impenetrability of matter, the nature of extension, and of accidents, etc.” (ibid.). Bayle later returned to these issues when he edited the Receuil de quelques pieces curieuses concernant la Philosophie de M. Descartes (1684), a compilation of articles by Malebranche, Bernier, and others (including Bayle himself) in response to a scathing attack on Cartesianism by Louis de Valois (alias Louis de la Ville). As its title suggests, Le Valois’ book, Sentimens de Monsieur Descartes touchant l’essence et les propriétez du corps opposez à la doctrine de l’Eglise, et conformes aux erreurs de Calvin sur le sujet de l’Eucharistie, aimed to establish the incompatibility of Cartesian res extensa with Catholic teachings concerning the Eucharist and to make of Descartes an ally of Calvinism. In the Preface to the Receuil Bayle argues that, taken collectively, the articles therein constitute a demonstration of the falsity of the Catholic position as formulated by the Council of Trent, since on the one hand “it is clear from M. de la Ville’s book that this decision is absolutely incompatible with the doctrine that extension constitutes the whole essence of matter,” while on the other hand, Bayle’s own arguments in the Receuil are said by him to establish that “it is as impossible that matter is penetrated as it is impossible that two things are equal when one is larger than the other.”37 Nevertheless, it would be a mistake to conclude that these polemical advantages constitute Bayle’s principal reason for endorsing the res extensa account of matter. For Bayle was an unswerving critic of those willing to advance weak arguments in defense of a good cause.38 More importantly, in addition to its epistemic credentials, Bayle’s identification of matter and actual extension was equally motivated by his hostility to occult qualities and substantial forms.39 In any case, as Bayle increasingly emphasized his fideist conception of faith and the logical inconsistency of a host of metaphysical principles with the truths of revelation, the tactic of leveling purely philosophical objections at the dogmas of opposing religions lost much of its force. Still, despite the evident philosophical appeal that the Cartesian account of the structure of matter held for Bayle, one might well wonder to what extent he continued to subscribe to the view in light of his well-known discussion of the paradox of the continuum in the article “Zenon d’Elée,” according to which every conceivable analysis of the composition of extended matter contradicts evident principles of reason.40 The difficulty is compounded by Bayle’s recognition beginning in the second edition of the Dictionnaire of the work of Newton and others, who claimed to have demonstrated the existence of a vacuum. Mori has insisted that these antiCartesian developments in physics “occasioned in Bayle a profound and irreversible intellectual disenchantment.”41 Mori acknowledges Bayle’s early allegiance to the Cartesian account of matter, but argues that it is precisely because of the strength of his earlier conviction that the rise of Newtonian physics helped to precipitate in Bayle an epistemological crisis.

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The issue is complicated and I shall return to it in Chapters 3 and 7. Simply stated, my position is as follows. While conceding the weight of these considerations, I contend that neither objection is decisive and that all things considered Bayle is best read as a proponent of the Cartesian account of matter. Let us begin with the second objection. Mori is quite right to draw attention to Bayle’s explicit recognition of the confl ict between Newtonian mechanics and Cartesian metaphysics. Still, there is reason to believe that Bayle was less thrown into “disarray” by the emergence of anti-Cartesian physicists than Mori would have us believe. The earliest discussion of these critics occurs in remark G of “Leucippe,” which appeared in 1702. From the outset Bayle’s observation that the vacuum has become “the favorite idol of the most famous mathematicians” should give pause to those who would too quickly conclude that Bayle has abandoned the Cartesian account of matter under the weight of these criticisms (DHC “Leucippe” 102; P 124). In the remark itself Bayle singles out Newton and Christian Huygens as having argued against the plenum on the grounds that motion presupposes a vacuum (DHC “Leucippe” rem. G, 102b).42 Bayle goes on to observe that these modern defenders of the vacuum “give more pleasure than they imagine to the Pyrrhoniens” since we have no idea more clear and distinct than that of extension, and this idea informs us that what is extended is composed of parts, and what is composed of parts is divisible and impenetrable. If, then, the physicists are correct in claiming to have “mathematically demonstrated” the existence of an absolute space that is extended and yet indivisible and penetrable by body, there remains no “clear and distinct idea on which our mind may depend since the idea of extension has been found to have misled us miserably” (DHC “Leucippe” rem. G, 103; P 138). To be sure such passages demonstrate Bayle’s recognition that the battle over the Cartesian account of matter and space had arrived at a new and critical juncture. Yet, whether he was thereby driven to abandon what he characterizes as “our clearest and most distinct idea” depends on the extent to which he was convinced by the arguments being put forward against the possibility of motion in a vacuum. There is reason to believe that on the whole Bayle was unpersuaded. In a letter written just two years before his death—and thus several years after the second edition of the Dictionnaire—Bayle again took up the alleged impossibility of motion in a plenum. Although his comments were most likely occasioned by a passage from Locke’s Essay, Bayle’s rejection of the argument is nonetheless instructive.43 He writes: if one will try to avoid self-deception, one cannot fi nd in one’s mind the idea of an extension that is not completely similar to the extension of matter. A vacuum might, perhaps, be necessary for motion on the assumption that bodies are the immediate and efficient cause of motion. However, if I am not mistaken, there is no need of it if one

20 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics supposes with Father Malebranche that God alone moves matter. (Bayle to Coste, April 8, 1704; OD IV, 841b)44 The argument is typical of Bayle in that it begins with an affi rmation of the epistemic certainty of the conception of matter as res extensa, then proceeds to acknowledge an apparent counterargument. What is surprising is Bayle’s appeal to occasionalism and, more specifically, the doctrine of continuous creation, whose relevance to the question is not immediately clear. Unfortunately, in the letter to Coste, Bayle does not formulate the objection to which occasionalism is said to offer some response. The version of the argument to be found in the Essay—and at any rate the one that Bayle discusses in his lectures on physics—attempts to establish the necessity of a vacuum through an analysis of the concept of motion.45 As Bayle represents their argument, proponents of the vacuum maintain that “a body cannot occupy a certain place unless it was vacant at the preceding moment, and therefore there is at least one moment in which body A has abandoned its place, before body B moves into its place.”46 Mindful of this difficulty, Descartes had argued that all motion in a plenum must occur along a closed curve. That is, matter moves as part of a ringlike structure with each part of the ring moving into the place of the adjacent part (PP II, 33; AT VIII, 58–59). What if anything is the relevance of occasionalism? One promising suggestion concerns the simultaneity of motion. Descartes’s solution requires that all motion in the ring be simultaneous, so as to preclude the existence of an unoccupied place, and hence a vacuum. The point of the appeal to continuous creation would seem to be that if at each moment God recreates every body in a determinate location, then it is not necessary for a place to be left vacant by one body prior to being occupied by another, since on the occasionalist view all bodies are assigned their locations in the same moment. To put the point another way, while the simultaneous motion required by defenders of the plenum might seem problematic if motive force is ascribed to bodies themselves, the difficulty dissolves if one adopts the view that motion is merely the recreation of bodies at different locations over successive moments.47 However that may be, the letter clearly suggests that in Bayle’s estimation the objection can be avoided, at least by an occasionalist adherent to the doctrine of continuous creation. Thus, there is good reason to think that Bayle did not feel compelled to abandon the res extensa account of matter as a result of this kind of consideration. The other difficulty concerns what Leibniz referred to as the “labyrinth of the continuum.” In the article “Zenon d’Elée” Bayle constructs on behalf of a modern Zenoist an argument against the possibility of motion according to which the existence of motion presupposes the existence of extension, but since the latter is impossible, so must be the former. Bayle’s arguments against the existence of extension are sufficiently well known to obviate the need for lengthy rehearsal. Briefly, Bayle maintains that there

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are only three possible positions one can adopt with respect to the composition of the continuum: it must be composed of mathematical points, or of atoms, or it must be infi nitely divisible.48 According to Bayle each of the three is impossible. No collection of mathematical points can constitute an extended magnitude, since taken individually each point is extensionless, and the concatenation of even an infi nite number of points of zero magnitude cannot yield a positive extension. Atoms are rejected on the grounds that every extended entity is composed of separable parts. It follows in Bayle’s view that every extended entity is divisible, and therefore atoms, that is, bodies that are extended yet indivisible, are impossible. Finally, a fi nite extended object cannot be infi nitely divisible, since among other reasons infi nite divisibility implies composition out of an infi nite number of actual parts. Now each of these parts must itself be extended, and so would have some fi nite magnitude. Therefore, an infi nite collection of such parts would of necessity form an infi nite extension, contrary to the supposition. From the failure of all three alternatives, Bayle concludes on Zeno’s behalf that extension cannot exist, or alternatively, that it cannot exist independently of the mind.49 However, it is far from clear that Bayle’s insistence on the difficulties concerning the composition of the continuum is decisive evidence against his commitment to matter as res extensa. One reason for resisting such a reading is that outside the context of “Zenon d’Elée” Bayle explicitly numbers himself among the adherents of infi nite divisibility. Thus, he observes: by maintaining this principle [that God cannot deceive] we reject the objections that we cannot resolve, and we impute this weakness to our limited understanding. In the same way by the idea of extension, we embrace its divisibility to infinity, although we cannot conceive any compatibility between three feet of extension and the infi nity of its parts, and although we succumb to innumerable objections against infi nite divisibility. (OD III, 773b)50 Still, one might be reluctant to take Bayle here at his word, given that the position he espouses is uncomfortably close to the very reasoning he ridicules in “Zenon d’Elée.” There Bayle observed that proponents of each of the three alternatives support their position by demonstrating the impossibility of the other two, while at the same time treating the évident demonstrations of the impossibility of their own view as mere “difficulties.” If we are to take Bayle’s commitment to infi nite divisibility as more than simple prejudice, there must be some theoretical basis for preferring it to its competitors. I suggest that the key to Bayle’s embrace of infi nite divisibility lies in his peculiar conception of évidence. According to Bayle, each of the three possible analyses of the continuum is beset by objections based on premises that are évident. Nevertheless, Bayle claims to adopt infi nite divisibility. Speaking of himself in the third person, he observes “if [M. Bayle]

22

Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics

adopts infi nite divisibility, it is because he prefers to the evident arguments of the atomists, the evident arguments of the Peripatetics.”51 What possible epistemic grounds can there be for this preference? The answer is that for Bayle two propositions can be évident, and yet the one be more epistemically justified than the other. In other words, évidence is a matter of degree.52 According to Bayle: The atomist fi nds évidence in the arguments that establish infi nite divisiblity and in the arguments that refute it, but he fi nds much more in the latter than in the former. That is why he rejects the évidence of the fi rst and adheres to the évidence of the second. (OD IV, 16b)53 Thus, Bayle’s position differs in two crucial respects from that of the modern Zenoist. First, for Bayle, not all évident propositions are equally évident. Second, the arguments in favor of infi nite divisibility are more évident than the objections against it. 54 Moreover, if we attempt to discern Bayle’s own view by attending carefully to his practice, we fi nd that when he reasons about matter, Bayle typically assumes that extension is its whole essence. And this is the case even when his opponent is not explicitly committed to the view. Although this general claim can only be fully demonstrated by the studies that follow, I offer here two brief examples. First, in a discussion of Simonides’s demurral in the face of repeated attempts to elicit from him a defi nition of God, Bayle constructs an elaborate line of reasoning to illustrate the difficulties that attend this question. Among other things Bayle has Simonides argue that: if I answer that [God] is extended, one will conclude that he is corporeal and material; and I am not capable of explaining to Hiero’s court that there are two kinds of extension, one corporeal and the other incorporeal, one composed of parts and hence divisible, the other perfectly simple and hence indivisible. (DHC “Simonide” rem. F, 210; P 276–77) Of course, Bayle is hardly claiming that Simonides was a Cartesian. Rather, his suggestion is that the equation of body and actual extension is a dictate of reason itself. Similarly, Bayle imagines Epicurus defending the claim that if God is not material, He cannot impart motion to bodies. Bayle has Epicurus argue that “if God is distinct from matter, he has no extension,” an inference that presupposes that whatever is extended is material. 55

THE NATURE OF MIND One of Cartesianism’s decisive advances in Bayle’s estimation is its apparent ability to secure a strict dualism of mind and body. Indeed, in the wake

Bayle and Cartesianism

23

of Descartes, Bayle is prepared to affi rm with only slight exaggeration that “nothing seems to me to be based on clearer and more distinct ideas than the immateriality of that which thinks” (DHC “Jupiter” rem. G, 904; P 114).56 For similar reasons Cartesianism is “at bottom the most capable of securing the spirituality of God.”57 In both the Thèses philosophqiues and his lectures on physics Bayle formulates standard Cartesian arguments for the immateriality of the soul (OD IV, 141–43, 455–56). Thus, we fi nd Bayle arguing that two things are distinct if the essential properties of the one are incompatible with the essential properties of the other (OD IV, 455–56). Now the essential properties of body, namely, extension, divisibility, and occupation of a place, are incompatible with the essential features of a mind, which are reasoning, willing, perceiving, and so on. These latter are, for example, indivisible and incapable of occupying a place. And conversely, the essential features of body are incompatible with those of mind. Therefore mind and body constitute two distinct species of substance. Much later, having read an extract of Locke’s reply to Stillingfleet in the Nouvelles de la République des Lettres, Bayle observed: M. Locke fi nds an incomprehensible mystery in the solidity and weight of certain bodies. This leads me to believe that he accepts the hypothesis of M. Newton concerning the vacuum. For if he supposed a plenum like M. Descartes, he would find that there is nothing easier than to understand solidity and weight in general, and he would not compare these two qualities of certain parts of matter to thought, which he maintains God could bestow on certain bodies. On that score I am entirely of the opinion of his opponent. I do not believe it possible that a body, and even less a composite of different bodies than an Epicurean atom, is capable of thought. (Bayle to Lord Ashley, November 23, 1699; OD IV, 785–86)58 It would be easy to multiply examples, and in the next chapter I shall examine Bayle’s arguments for the immateriality of the soul. The trouble begins when we try to arrive at a positive conception of the mind. For if Bayle is a fi rm proponent of the Cartesian analysis of matter as res extensa, his attitude toward the parallel account of mind as res cogitans is considerably more ambiguous. In part this ambivalence reflects a more or less widespread difficulty in conceiving what specifically is being claimed in saying that the essence of the mind is cogitare. Perhaps the most orthodox of Bayle’s discussions occurs in the Theses Philosophicae, where he defends the claim that actual, or occurrent, thought is the essence of mind (suamque habet essentiam in actuali cognitatione positam; OD IV, 141). The argument, which Bayle does not develop, is said to proceed by parity of reasoning with the case of material substance. 59 By contrast, in the Objections to Poiret, Bayle presses several difficulties surrounding the claim that the essence of mind is thought in general

24

Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics

(in cogitatione generaliter sumta). According to Bayle, the Cartesian view adopted by Poiret is beset by difficulties whether the essence of the mind is understood to be thought in general, or some particular thought. Against the former Bayle denies that we ever have such general thoughts, or that a general entity could constitute the essence of a particular being. On the other hand, if the claim is that the essence of mind is a particular thought, Bayle argues that because all such thoughts are transitory, this would imply that the essence of the mind changes, and therefore the mind changes species.60 More importantly, Bayle argues that whether thought is to be taken generally or in particular, every thought is an action of the mind, and as such is of the wrong kind to constitute its essence.61 Thus the res cogitans account reverses the order of explanation, since thoughts are actions brought about by the mind, and therefore cannot be the essence of it (OD IV, 149b). Perhaps under the influence of Arnauld’s Fourth Objections, Bayle concludes his discussion of Poiret with the observation that the most defensible position would be to hold that it is the faculty of thought that constitutes the essence of the mind.62 He writes: these difficulties are avoided if the essence of the soul is taken to be the faculty of thought, since this faculty remains fi xed and unchanged while the soul is successively affected by various modifications. Moreover, this faculty suffices to distinguish the soul from the body, just as divisibility suffices to distinguish body from mind, even if the body is never actually divided. (OD IV, 149b; OD V–1, 26)63 It can be doubted whether these objections fi nd their target insofar as both Descartes and Malebranche deny that the essence of mind consists either in thought in general or in this or that particular thought. For his part, Descartes specifically rejects the suggestion that by cogitans he means either a particular or a universal thought. Rather, it is a “particular nature” that takes on this or that mode of thought (AT V, 221). Similarly, after repeating the Cartesian claim that the essence of mind is thought, Malebranche cautions that: by the word thought, I do not mean the soul’s particular modifications, i.e., this or that thought, but rather substantial thought, thought capable of all sorts of modifications or thoughts, just as extension does not mean this or that extension, such as a circle or a square, but extension capable of all sorts of modifications or figures. (OCM I, 381; LO 198) What Bayle’s worries point up is the difficulty of understanding precisely what is meant by substantial thought considered independently of its particular modes. Indeed, immediately following the preceding passage, Malebranche concedes that his account may be obscure owing to our lack of a clear idea of the soul—a claim to which Bayle is highly sympathetic.

Bayle and Cartesianism

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The difficulties Bayle canvasses concerning the concept of res cogitans have led at least one commentator to question Bayle’s commitment to the immateriality of the mind. Indeed, Mori offers several considerations against the reading of Bayle as proponent of mind-body dualism. First, Mori points to the article “Pomponace” in which Bayle asserts that the fact of disagreement concerning the immateriality of the soul (Bayle instances Descartes’s failure to persuade Gassendi) reveals that the Cartesian position does not possess the incontestable evidence of, say, the law of the excluded middle.64 Second, Mori cites a discussion in the Réponse aux questions d’un Provincial in which Bayle raises a number of difficulties for mind-body dualism. More specifically, Bayle maintains that several metaphysical principles seem to conflict with the account of the soul as immaterial substance. The difficulties center on the relation of such a mind to space. For example, if the immaterial soul occupies a place, it is extended. Therefore, it is material and composite, which is contrary to the hypothesis. If on the other hand it has no spatial location, we are left with the apparent inconceivability of a thing that exists and yet is literally nowhere.65 There can be no doubt that for Bayle the seeming irreconcilability of these principles with the immateriality of the soul diminishes in some measure our evidence for that position. Still, it would be too hasty to conclude in the wake of these difficulties that we are left with no epistemic grounds for assent to dualism of mind and body. For as we saw in the previous section, Bayle espouses a kind of probabilism that leaves room for rational assent to évident propositions even in cases where they are opposed by others that are themselves évident. Because évidence is for Bayle a matter of degree, he is even prepared to speak of our knowledge in such cases as a kind of certainty. It is this position that he explicitly adopts with regard to the immateriality of the soul. Responding to an attack by Jacques Bernard, Bayle writes: [Bernard] was misled when he was told that M. Bayle maintained that all evident propositions are equally evident. I reply that this thesis, bodies are incapable of thought appears sufficiently evident to M. Bayle to judge it to be certain. Yet he does not believe it to be as certain as this proposition: two plus two is four. (OD III, 1071a; Bayle’s emphasis)66 This I would argue affords a response to Mori’s two objections. For we can concede that Bayle sees a tension between the immaterialist conception of the soul and certain metaphysical principles to which we have some prima facie allegiance. Nevertheless, because the evidence of the argument for immateriality outweighs that of the metaphysical principles that are inconsistent with its conclusion, Bayle embraces a kind of mitigated assent to dualism. Similarly, Bayle’s concession in light of disagreement among philosophers that Cartesian dualism does not enjoy “incontestable evidence”

26

Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics

in no way undermines the claim that on the whole our evidence in favor of the view outweighs our evidence against.67 It remains to discuss the most serious objection, namely, the difficulties that Bayle raises in the Objections to Poiret. This task I shall defer to the next chapter, where I discuss Bayle’s defense of mind-body dualism at length.

VISION IN GOD Although influenced by Malebranche to a degree rivaled only by Descartes himself, Bayle seems to have had little use for the Oratorian’s signature epistemological thesis that ideas cannot be modifications of fi nite mental substances and so must be the intelligible essence of God himself. In a review of Malebranche’s Réponse de l’Auteur de la Recherche de la Vérité, Bayle characterizes this so-called “vision in God” as “the most incomprehensible” of Malebranche’s views.68 Although he seems to have been reluctant to criticize Malebranche publicly on this score, Bayle was less guarded in his private correspondence. In a letter to J. Turner he confides: as for the opinion of Malebranche that we see things in God, I am far from sharing it. I am convinced that the human soul is as capable of the modification we call idea as of the one that God impresses on it to make it perceive a separate idea. Father Malebranche could never explain how a separate idea could be the object of a soul of which it cannot be a modification.69 Despite his public reserve it is possible to discern in Bayle two main criticisms of Malebranche’s position. First, Bayle rejects what he takes to be Malebranche’s principal argument in favor of the view, namely that every mode of a fi nite substance must itself be fi nite and particular, and therefore can represent neither the infi nite nor being in general (cf. OD I, 26a).70 Doubtless Bayle’s suspicion of the argument owes something to Arnauld’s forceful criticism in Des Vraies et fausses idées (1683). However, as early as 1679 Bayle had already rejected a similar argument by Poiret according to whom the idea of God cannot be a modality of the human mind, since only an infi nite idea can represent an infi nite being. Bayle responded by drawing a distinction between the formal being (suam entitatem) of an idea and its representational capacity. The latter he insisted can be infi nite, even if the former is not.71 More generally, Bayle rejects the principle that if a certain object has some property F, the idea that represents that object must be formally F.72 Thus, he argues that just as our idea of body is not itself physical, so too our “idea of God is a fi nite modification, and nevertheless its object is an infi nite being.”73 Second, Bayle argues that it is incomprehensible that an idea distinct from the soul could nevertheless be an object of perception. Unfortunately,

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27

his statement of the objection is laconic to the point of obscurity. Perhaps the argument can be reconstructed as follows. According to Bayle it is impossible to explain how “a separate idea could be the object of a soul of which it cannot be a modification.” This suggests that for Bayle the mind can have immediate conscious awareness only of its own modifications.74 This does not of course mean that a thought can have no other intentional object than the mind to which it belongs. Rather, the point is that cognition of an object occurs by virtue of the representational content of an idea. This in turn implies that for the mind to cognize an object, it must have immediate awareness of the contents of the corresponding idea. However, the mind can have awareness of the content of nothing but its own modifications. Therefore, any epistemological theory according to which the representational content of an act of cognition is attributed to an entity that is numerically distinct from the mind and its various modifications must be rejected.75 Needless to say, Bayle himself never develops anything like a comprehensive metaphysical and epistemological account of cognition. On the contrary, he consistently numbers the question of the origin and nature of thought among the most intractable problems of philosophy.76 To be sure, Bayle sometimes praises the argument from elimination that Malebranche marshals in defense of the Vision in God in Book Three of the Recherche. Thus, Bayle bids his readers: consider the force with which Father Malebranche refutes everything that is said concerning the manner in which we know things. He found no other recourse than to say that we see them in God and that ideas are not produced in the soul. (DHC “Averroes” rem. E, 386b)77 However, it is important to distinguish two components of Malebranche’s account of the metaphysics of cognition. According to the occasionalist thesis, God is the complete and exclusive cause of every representational mode of fi nite minds. To this Malebranche adds the claim that the ideas God impresses on our minds are the intelligible essence of God himself. For Bayle these two are strictly independent, and the rejection of the second in no way diminishes the plausibility of the fi rst.78 It is for this reason that in those passages in which Bayle speaks approvingly of Malebranche’s epistemology, it is typically the occasionalist element to which Bayle refers. Thus, for example, he observes that to appreciate the philosophical appeal of Malebranche’s epistemological system: one must grasp the full extent of the power that befits a nature capable of painting images of objects in our minds. The intentional species of the Scholastics are the shame of the Peripatetics. One would have to be je ne sais quoi to be able to convince oneself that a tree produces its image in all of the surrounding parts of the air up to the brains of an

28 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics infi nite number of perceivers. The cause that produces all these images is quite other than a tree. Search for it to your heart’s content; if you fi nd it below the infi nite Being, it is a sign that you do not understand this matter well. (DHC “Democrite” rem. P, 274)79 Still, the extent to which Bayle can be considered a proponent of occasionalism is a complicated question. I shall return to it at length in Chapter 4.

IDEAS AND SENSATIONS However that may be, Bayle does endorse one main feature of Malebranche’s epistemological account of cognition, namely, the distinction between ideas and sensations (sentiments). For Malebranche ideas are essentially representative entities that are numerically distinct from acts of perception and that serve as their immediate objects. Taken in the strict sense, ideas are that by which the mind is able to achieve clear and distinct representation. Thus, it is ideas that provide the cognitive component of acts of pure understanding and also of sense perceptions, to the extent that the latter are clear and distinct. By contrast, sensations in the narrowest sense are intrinsically nonrepresentational modes of mind that account for the sensuous character of thought.80 The view is complicated somewhat by Malebranche’s willingness to extend the term sentiment to certain nonvolitional “natural judgments” occurring in sense perception. In this extended sense sensations are representational, although their cognitive content is neither clear nor distinct.81 However, in the strict sense sentiments are nonrepresentative sensuous modes, such as colors, smells, and pains, while ideas are nonsensuous, intrinsically representative entities. The distinction between ideas and sensations lies at the heart of Bayle’s debate with Arnauld concerning the nature of pleasure and its relation to happiness.82 In a review of Book I of Arnauld’s Réfl exions philosophiques et théologiques sur le nouveau systême de la nature et de la grace, Bayle defended Malebranche’s claim that all pleasures—even sensory pleasures—render one happy for as long as they are experienced (OD I, 348b).83 According to Bayle what tempts Malebranche’s opponents into condemning the assertion that all pleasure is a form of happiness is the distinction they want to draw between two fundamentally different kinds of pleasure, spiritual and corporeal. Predictably, these philosophers deny that the enjoyment of corporeal pleasures renders one genuinely happy. For Bayle the distinction between spiritual and corporeal pleasures does not rest on any intrinsic—much less essential—difference between various sensations of pleasure. Considered in themselves all pleasures are equally “spiritual,” since they are one and all modes of mental substance (OD I, 454b). The sorting of pleasures into spiritual and corporeal can be done only on the basis of the extrinsic and accidental relation these mental acts

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bear to their occasional causes. Now because the psychophysical laws of nature are established by divine fiat, nomological connections between sensations and their physical causes are purely accidental. Furthermore, considered in themselves—that is, according to their intrinsic nature— sensations of pleasure and pain are nonrepresentative mental modes. In the language of contemporary philosophy of mind, they are “blank feels.” As Bayle puts the point: since the action of the soul by which we refer what we sense to objects is not essential to the sensation of pleasure and is only an accident, or a well-conceived accessory for the purpose of more easily maintaining the [bodily] machine, it is certain that these sensations of pleasure would be of the same species as now, even if they were not related to this accessory. (OD I, 454b)84 Unfortunately, Bayle’s discussion is not without ambiguity. Some of what he says might be taken to suggest a causal theory of representation according to which sensations represent by the mere fact of having been produced by those external objects that serve as their occasional causes. On this reading the psychophysical laws of nature are by themselves sufficient for the representationality of sensations.85 However, Bayle’s characterization of the judgment by which sensations are referred to the body as a “well-conceived accessory” suggests that for him the intentional relation of a sensation of pleasure to its object is founded on a distinct, nonvoluntary act of judgment that arises in us owing to our God-given nature.86 On this view it is only by virtue of this distinct mental act that sensations are referred to parts of the body. Such a theory is consonant with Malebranche’s (revised) account of natural judgments in the Recherche.87 On the whole, then, it seems preferable to read Bayle as claiming that it is this naturally occurring act of referring pleasures to the corporeal world that accounts for their representationality.88 One consequence of the view that the judgments by which pleasures are referred to the physical world are accidental to, and therefore separable from, the sensation itself is especially noteworthy in that it anticipates in interesting ways the inverted spectrum argument frequently invoked by modern defenders of qualia—that is, intrinsically nonrepresentative, phenomenal states of consciousness. According to Bayle, without altering in any way the intrinsic character of our sensations, God could interchange the pleasure we now experience on the occasion of a certain physical event, say, drinking a glass of wine, with the pleasure we currently derive from experiences of a more edifying kind, say, meditating on God’s love for humanity (OD I, 455a). The principal difference between Bayle and modern defenders of qualia is that the latter appeal to the inverted spectrum as evidence for the nonrepresentational character of sensation, whereas Bayle tends to treat it as a consequence of that view.

30

Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics

For Arnauld, on the other hand, intentionality is the essence of thought, and so every mental modification is intrinsically representative.89 Arnauld invokes the intrinsic intentional relation sensations of pleasure bear to their objects to ground what he takes to be an essential difference between corporeal and spiritual pleasures. Thus, sensations whose intentional object is corporeal are themselves intrinsically corporeal. That intentionality is the mark of the mental underlies Arnauld’s complaint that on Bayle’s view the perception of a spider could be transformed into the perception of an elephant without any change in the constitution of the mental act itself (OA 40, 61). Interestingly, Arnauld goes on to suggest that one who holds with Malebranche that the representational character of thought is to be accounted for by appeal to representative entities numerically distinct from our acts of perception might be led to accept this implication. For on this model the idea that supplies the representative content of a perception could be replaced by another, while the mental mode that is the perception endures unaltered. Thus, the mind could go from, say, conceiving a square to conceiving a triangle without any intrinsic change to the perception itself.90 In response Bayle concedes that the intentional relation each idea bears to its object is essential to the idea. However, he denies that the same holds true for sentiments. He writes: the relation of our ideas to their object is essential, and [Arnauld] is right to say that God could not bring it about that the idea of a circle was separated from its relation to the circle. But it is not the same with our sensations [sentimens]. Our soul could experience cold without referring it to a foot or a hand, just as it experiences joy at receiving good news, and chagrin without referring them to any part of the body. (DHC “Epicure” rem. H, 368b)91 The comparison with joy might seem ill-chosen in that many philosophers would dispute the claim that emotions such as joy lack representational content. One could plausibly argue that we feel joy at a certain event or state of affairs and so representation is inseparable from such affective states. However, I think that in comparing bodily sensations to joy, Bayle is making a more restricted point. His argument is that whatever may be its representational content, the mental sensation of joy has no phenomenal or intentional location in the body. However, in the case of bodily sensations it is precisely their felt location that constitutes our most compelling reason for thinking them intrinsically representational. But this felt location, Bayle maintains, is the result of a natural judgment that generally accompanies bodily pleasures and pains, but is nonetheless accidental to them. If this judgment were removed, the bodily sensations would have no felt location and therefore no representational content. It is the possibility of sensations with no felt location that the example of joy is intended to establish.

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Against this conception of sensations as intrinsically nonrepresentational, Arnauld offers two arguments. First, he maintains that if it were the case that pleasures are classifiable as corporeal or spiritual only by virtue of the contingent relation they bear to their occasional causes, it would follow that “all corporeal pleasures would likewise differ from one another only by virtue of a similar extrinsic denomination based on their different occasional causes” (OA 40, 62).92 But this, Arnauld maintains, is patently false, for it implies that our ability to distinguish sensory pleasures is predicated on a prior ability to distinguish their associated occasional causes. A blind man who drinks four different wines distinguishes the wines by virtue of the various tastes he experiences; he does not distinguish the tastes by first distinguishing their respective occasional causes. Thus, far from distinguishing pleasures on the basis of their occasional causes, we distinguish occasional causes based on the distinct pleasures (OA 40, 63). Here it must be said that Arnauld’s objection betrays a serious misunderstanding.93 What Bayle maintains is that sensations of pleasure cannot be categorized as spiritual or material except by appeal to the accidental and extrinsic relation each bears to its occasional cause. What Arnauld implicitly attributes to Bayle is that considered in themselves, sensations of pleasure are experientially indistinguishable from one another. In other words Arnauld ascribes to Bayle the claim that sensations of pleasure have no intrinsic phenomenal character (or at least that all pleasures have the same phenomenal character).94 But nothing in what Bayle says commits him to this stronger and, on the face of it, far less plausible view. Second, Arnauld observes that pleasures and pains are given to us by a providential God to promote our physical well-being. Thus, the pleasure one experiences in eating a certain piece of fruit is evidence that the fruit is conducive to health. But, Arnauld continues, the sensation of pleasure we experience in eating the fruit can perform its appointed role only if it represents the fruit. As Arnauld puts the point, it is “essential to this pleasure, according to the institution of nature [l’institution de la nature], to be related to this fruit. Otherwise, this pleasure would be of no use to me for the end for which it has been given me” (OA 40, 64).95 However, as I have argued, Bayle’s claim is not that the mind does not represent corporeal objects to itself on the occasion of experiencing certain sensory pleasures. Rather, his claim is that it is an additional and accidental act of mind (judgment) that is responsible for referring the pleasure to the corporeal world. Like its predecessor, Arnauld’s second objection rests on the claim that nonrepresentative sensations would be phenomenologically indistinguishable—a claim Bayle would surely deny.

CONCLUSION These positions, to which we might add Malebranche’s occasionalist account of causation, constitute the core of the Cartesian influence on Bayle’s thought.

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Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics

Although I do not at this stage claim to have demonstrated that Bayle accepts any of these positions without reservation, I hope to have made plausible the suggestion that in a number of cases Bayle is far more inclined to dogmatism than the standard reading of him as an unmitigated skeptic would have us believe. Of course, the most persuasive case can be made only on the strength of a careful assessment of the arguments marshaled for and against each position as well as an analysis of their role in his critical reflections on philosophical systems past and present. It is to these tasks that I now turn.

2

Mind-Body Dualism

Among the Cartesian doctrines to which Bayle was sympathetic, perhaps none figures more prominently in his works than the strict distinction of mind and body. As we saw in the previous chapter, Bayle repeatedly affi rms that only an immaterial substance is capable of thought. Indeed, Elizabeth Labrousse has argued that “the distinction between thought and extension is for [Bayle] an indubitable and luminous truth that compels our recognition as soon as we have learned from Descartes to use only the understanding, without allowing the imagination and the senses to obscure its luminous self-evidence.”1 In addition to its excellent epistemic credentials, the doctrine of substance dualism holds out the sole possibility of establishing a secure metaphysical foundation for a number of dogmas of orthodox Christianity, notably the immortality of the soul and the tenability—indeed, conceivability—of a transcendent creator of the universe. Recently, however, this reading of Bayle as an unqualified adherent of Cartesian mind-body dualism has been called into question.2 Drawing on crucial passages from the Objections to Poiret and other texts, Gianluca Mori argues that Bayle discretely articulates a materialist ontology, rendering suspect his frequent appeals to standard Cartesian arguments for the distinctness of mind and body. On Mori’s reading Bayle refuses to rule out the possibility that matter might be endowed with the faculty of thought, while at the same time emphasizing the conceptual difficulties that attend the Cartesian account of mind as res cogitans. As a result the possibility of a rational proof of both the immateriality and immortality of the soul is undermined. In this chapter I will pursue two separate though related goals. First, I will explore what I take to be two of Bayle’s most original contributions to the debate over the nature of thinking substance. I will argue, pace Mori, that Bayle is committed to a form of mind-body dualism. Second, I will examine in greater detail the implications Bayle’s criticisms of the res cogitans account of mind hold for the possibility of rational knowledge of the immortality of the soul. It will be helpful to begin by distinguishing two ways one might reject mind-body dualism. Proponents of the fi rst view, which I shall call Strong Materialism, maintain that despite the ostensible or prima facie distinction

34

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between mental and physical properties, at the deepest level of philosophical analysis there is only one kind of thing, namely, the physical. To employ a modern idiom, the Strong Materialist holds that mental properties are ontologically reducible to physical properties. Because in the seventeenth century all parties to the debate embraced some form of substance ontology, Strong Materialism amounts to the claim that there are only material substances and material properties. The Weak Materialist, on the other hand, maintains that although there are, in fact, two irreducibly different kinds of properties, the mental and the physical, this essential difference does not preclude properties of both types from existing in the numerically same (material) substance. Thus, the Weak Materialist combines property dualism with a rejection of immaterial substance. Among the early moderns, Hobbes’s reduction of thought to matter in motion qualifies him as a Strong Materialist, whereas Locke’s contention that so far as we know God might have superadded thought to matter, amounts to a refusal to rule out the possibility of Weak Materialism.3

EARLY WRITINGS: BAYLE’S ANTIEMERGENCE ARGUMENT In his lectures on metaphysics Bayle develops an anti-emergence argument purporting to demonstrate the impossibility of converting insentient matter into a thinking being by mere alteration of the configuration of its physical parts. Although Bayle’s formulation makes no essential innovations on canonical versions to be found in a number of Cartesian texts, it will be helpful to examine the argument in some detail in order to better appreciate his mature position.4 Bayle begins with the premise that in any material system, every effect that is specifically attributable to its physical configuration is ultimately reducible to changes of shape and motion among its component parts, since “we cannot conceive that matter can undergo any changes other than being divided into smaller particles, being more agitated, and the like.”5 But, he continues, the modes of thought are not reducible to shape and motion, since “we deny with as much certainty that love is a shape, a motion, etc. as we deny that it is the number three.”6 Again, the ontological independence of the mental from the physical is demonstrated by the fact that: we can deny that [thought] occupies a location or is extended, and nevertheless we will clearly comprehend it as thought. For, having excluded all of these [qualities], we will have perfect knowledge of what it is to be joyous, and how joy differs from suffering. (OD IV, 456)7 The upshot is that no mechanical alteration of its parts can produce thought in a previously insentient material substance. As Bayle develops it here,

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the argument rests on two major premises. First, he rejects the type-identity theory, according to which mental properties or acts just are physical properties or events. The claim that no mode of thought is conceptually reducible to a mode of extension turns on an argument from conceivability borrowed directly from Descartes. Bayle claims that our concepts of mental acts “neither contain nor presuppose” the concept of extension and so these mental acts are of a fundamentally different kind than the modes of matter (ibid.). Let us call this fi rst premise the Irreducibility Principle.8 By itself the principle constitutes a rejection of Strong Materialism, since it ensures the truth of some form of property dualism. The second premise, which we might call the Non-emergence Principle, is that within a complex material system the only conceivable effects specifically attributable to different organizations of its parts are changes in shape and motion. Taken together these two principles rule out the possibility that thought might be an emergent property of matter. For by the second principle, one who wishes to claim that the physical organization of a complex material substance might be causally responsible for the emergence of thought must identify these mental acts with certain motions and shapes, a possibility that the fi rst principle precludes. From these premises Bayle concludes that no material substance is capable of thought, and that therefore the mind must be a distinct, immaterial substance. Although versions of this argument can be found throughout his early works, there is at least one place in which Bayle seems to call the cogency of the reasoning into doubt. The passage occurs in the Objections to Poiret, a text whose authenticity Mori has persuasively argued.9 Anticipating Locke’s better known discussion in the Essay, Bayle questions whether we can have any rational assurance that God cannot conjoin thought to extended substance as one of its accidental properties. He writes: I ask whether God by his infi nite and omnipotent power can bring it about that a body might become conscious of its own existence or the existence of any object whatsoever. If you deny this, you diminish the sovereignty and omnipotence of God. . . . I admit that I cannot conceive how an unthinking body might become thinking as a result of a change in the shape or position of its parts, or in the determination of its motion. But how do we know that it cannot receive other modifications than those, if God wished to bring to bear his power for that purpose? (OD IV, 150b)10 Bayle goes on to suggest that a similar worry can be raised within an occasionalist framework. For on that theory God is the sole efficient cause of the mental acts of fi nite minds. Thus, for example, when the body is stuck with a pin, it is God who subsequently modifies the mind with a sensation of pain. Now according to Bayle, because we are entirely ignorant of the means by which God might causally affect an immaterial mind so as to

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produce a sensation of pain, it is open to the materialist to maintain that God might affect matter itself with the same mode of thought as a lawful consequence of certain corporeal motions. Bayle writes: Similarly, I might say that on the occasion of certain motions, matter could be so modified by God that it experiences pleasure or pain. And in this way, the principle objection of the Cartesians, based on the fact that motion, shape and the other modifications of bodies differ toto coelo from the idea of thought, is destroyed. Thus, indeed, I do not say that motion and shape formally constitute the act of thought, but only that they are the occasion of thinking. (OD IV, 151a )11 If we recognize Bayle’s authorship of the Objections to Poiret, as I think we must, how are we to reconcile these objections with his frequent declarations that matter is incapable of thought? Elizabeth Labrousse has argued that in light of Bayle’s subsequent rejection of Locke’s position on thinking matter, the objection to Poiret must be viewed as no more than a “passing fancy (boutade passagère).”12 By contrast, Mori maintains that Bayle’s anticipation of Locke’s own position shows how “exaggerated (and suspect)” is Bayle’s later critique of the English philosopher in the Dictionnaire.13 Mori is surely right to insist upon the importance of the doubts that Bayle raises in the Objections. For even if Labrousse is ultimately correct in seeing Bayle’s argument as inconsistent with his mature views, it is surely not enough to dismiss the objection as nothing more than a transient and superficial worry. What is needed if the dualist reading is to be sustained is to fi nd in Bayle a compelling philosophical reason that explains his abandonment of the worry he expresses to Poiret. For reasons I shall make clear, I believe that by the time he composed the Dictionnaire Bayle had indeed come to a reasoned rejection of the materialist hypothesis entertained in the Objections to Poiret. To understand the ultimate basis of this rejection, it is important to notice precisely what is being argued in the objection to Poiret. Bayle begins by conceding the inconceivability of identifying modes of thought with modes of matter. Thus, the argument does not call into question the Irreducibility Principle. Rather in calling upon Poiret to defend the claim that various kinds of shape and motion are the only modes of which material substances are capable, Bayle poses a direct challenge to the Anti-emergence Principle. More specifically, Bayle insists on the need for a further argument to show that individual thoughts cannot be modifications of material substance. Now, as we shall see, Bayle develops two novel arguments against the materialist hypothesis, neither of which relies upon the premise that the only modes of which extended material substance is capable are various shapes and degrees of local motion. The fi rst of these occurs in a critical discussion of the Aristotelian Dicaearchus, while the second is developed at length in an article devoted to the Greek atomist, Leucippus.

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MATERIALISM AND PANPSYCHISM The ostensible starting point of Bayle’s discussion of Dicaearchus is the latter’s rejection of the immortality of the soul on the grounds that the power of thinking does not belong to a substance distinct from the living body, but is rather a capacity of the body itself. Being inseparable from the particular organic body to which it belongs, the soul cannot survive the destruction of the body. In Book I of the Tusculan Disputations Cicero portrays Dicaearchus as holding that: the soul is absolutely nothing, and this term is utterly meaningless . . . nor is there soul or spirit [animum vel animam] in either man or beast. The whole power whereby we either do or feel anything is equally diffused throughout all living bodies and is not separable from the body, since it is nothing, nor anything else than simple body so configured that it lives and feels by the disposition of nature. (Quoted in DHC “Dicéarque” rem. C, 285; P 64)14 Although his assertion that the power of thinking is “nothing, nor anything else than simple body” suggests that Dicaearchus is advocating some form of materialism, the brevity of Cicero’s account precludes a defi nitive characterization of the position.15 Yet despite the paucity of detail (or, one might say, because of it), Bayle’s reconstruction and subsequent criticism of Dicaearchus’s position constitute one of his most distinctive contributions to the mind-body debate. Bayle argues that to assert that the soul is not distinct from a particular material substance commits one on pain of contradiction to the view that that substance will always possess the power of thinking, and that therefore the inference to the mortality of the soul is unwarranted. He writes: if you once suppose, with this author, that the soul is not distinct from the body, that it is only a power equally distributed through all living things, and that it makes but one simple being with the bodies that are called living, then either you do not know what you are saying, or you have to maintain that this power always accompanies the body. For what is not distinct from the body is essentially the body; and according to the first principles of reason, it is a contradiction to say that a being ever exists without its essence. (DHC “Dicéarque” rem. C, 285; P 65) Bayle’s initial argument is that since nothing can exist without its essence, if the power of thinking is not distinct from body, then a material object that is once possessed of that power can never lose it.16 But, this is a little too crude, since the key claim that if x is not distinct from y, then x is essential to y ignores the three grades of distinction (real, modal, and nominal) articulated by Descartes. On this account modes are mere ‘ways of

38 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics being’ that are not really distinct from the substance to which they belong. Moreover, a substance can survive the loss of any of its accidental modes, as when a round ball of wax is molded into a cube. Thus, modes such as shape are precisely the sort of entities that are both not really distinct from substances, but are nonetheless inessential to them. The distinction is important, since as Cicero portrays him, Dicaearchus holds not that the power of thinking belongs to every material substance, but only to those complex material objects so configured or “modified” that they constitute a living, sentient being. On this view thought occurs in a material object only when its parts, which are themselves essentially inanimate, are arranged according to a certain precise physical configuration. At the time of death this arrangement comes undone, and the power of thinking is destroyed. In sum, Bayle’s refutation appears to miss its target in that it illicitly attributes to Dicaearchus the claim that the power of thinking is essential to material bodies simpliciter. As we might expect, Bayle is not unaware of this objection. The burden of the remainder of the remark is to rule out the possibility that mental acts such as sensations could be accidental modes of body, from which it would follow that “matter, without losing anything essential to it, could cease to feel as soon as it was no longer enclosed in the organs of a living machine” (DHC “Dicéarque” rem. C, 286; P 66). Thus, Bayle’s discussion amounts to a reconsideration of the possibility he had earlier left open in the Objections to Poiret. Bayle goes on to argue that the view that modal kinds are accidental to material substance is impossible, because every mode of which we have any knowledge can be lost by a substance only by simultaneously acquiring another of the same kind. Thus, a spherical piece of wax can lose its shape on the sole condition that it be immediately replaced by another. Similarly, a color is lost only to be replaced by another color, a degree of heat or cold by another degree of temperature. Let us call the principle that no mode can be lost by a substance without being replaced by another of the same type the Principle of Modal Continuity (PMC). Of course, even if modes of shape obviously conform to this general principle, there might still be other modalities that can be lost “without being succeeded by another positive one.” For Bayle, the most plausible counterexample is the transition from motion to rest. Motion seems to present a clear case of a quality that is indistinct from the substance to which it belongs, but which can cease to exist without being replaced by another of the same kind. However, Bayle rejects the example, arguing that: motion and rest are not different, as one supposes, in the same way as positive modalities and privations are. Rest and motion are both very real and positive local presences. They differ only in external and entirely accidental relations. Rest is the duration of the same local presence. Movement is the acquisition of a new local presence. And consequently, what ceases to move does not lose its modality without

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acquiring another of the same nature. It always has a position equal to its extension among the other parts of the universe. (DHC “Dicéarque” rem. C, 286; P 66–67) For Bayle, rest is not a mere privation of motion, since everything that is “real and positive” in a mode of motion is equally present in a mode of rest. To the extent that motion can be considered a positive mode of a material substance, it is because at each moment the substance occupies a certain place, or has a real local presence, which is equally true of a body at rest. Thus, motion fails as a counterexample to PMC, since in passing from motion to rest, a body loses one positive mode (a certain local presence) only to be replaced by another of the same kind. What would be needed for motion to count as a genuine counterexample to PMC would be a case in which a body occupies a place and at a subsequent moment occupies no place at all. Bayle’s argument here is complicated by a number of factors, the most important of which is the standard Cartesian account of local motion as a purely relational property of body.17 This suggests that what it is for a body to occupy a specific place is reducible to its standing in a certain set of spatial relations to surrounding bodies. Thus, it is not immediately obvious how Bayle can maintain a meaningful distinction between the “external and merely accidental” relations that constitute a mode of motion and a mode of rest, and the set of spatial relations that constitute occupying a certain place among other physical bodies, which Bayle claims is the “real and positive” component of a mode of motion or rest.18 What Bayle seems to have in mind is the following. The property of occupying a place follows necessarily from the Cartesian account of body as res extensa. As Bayle puts the point, a body always has “a position equal to its extension among the other parts if the universe” (DHC “Dicéarque” rem. C, 286a; P 67). In this sense, occupation of a place is an essential feature of body qua body, and so a “real and positive” mode of every body. Now consider some body b, which at time t1 is surrounded by neighboring bodies n1 and n 2 . Suppose that at times t2 , t3, and t4 b continues to be surrounded by n1 and n 2. In this case b is said to be at rest. Now suppose that at t5 b is surrounded by n1 and n3 and at t6 it is surrounded by n1 and n4. In this case b is said to be in motion. Yet the only difference between motion and rest is an entirely accidental relation between b and its surrounding bodies. When there are different bodies surrounding b from one moment to the next, b is in motion. When these bodies remain constant, b is at rest. But being surrounded by particular bodies from one moment to the next cannot be a mode of b in the way that, for example, shape is a mode of b. Of course, given the nature of extension, b must be surrounded by some bodies. But that at any given moment it should be surrounded by some particular bodies is a purely accidental and extrinsic fact, which contributes nothing to motion and rest insofar as they are “real and positive” modes of the fi nite body b.

40 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics However, at this point Bayle has shown only that certain specific kinds of physical properties conform to PMC. But, it might be objected, this sort of enumerative induction is inconclusive. What is needed if the argument is to succeed, is a general metaphysical foundation for PMC that will decisively rule out the possibility of any such counterexamples. In his fi nal argument in favor of the principle, Bayle attempts to provide such a foundation by appeal to the Cartesian analysis of matter. He writes: all the modes of bodies are based on the essential attributes of bodies, which are the three dimensions. This is why the loss of a figure or a defi nite location is always accompanied by the acquisition of another figure or another defi nite location. Extension never ceases. It never loses anything. That is why the decay of one of its modes is necessarily the generation of another. (DHC “Dicéarque” rem. C, 286; P 67) Because the nature of body qua body is to be extended in the three dimensions, and modes such as shape or occupation of place are nothing more than mere ways of being that are not really distinct from the extended substance, loss without replacement of such modes could occur only by annihilation of the material substance itself.19 To violate PMC with respect to, say, motion would be to go from having a spatial location to having none at all. But this could happen only if the body were driven completely out of existence. Therefore, if thought were a mode of extension, it could similarly be lost only by the annihilation of the material substance. Although he invokes the res extensa account of matter, it is important to notice that Bayle is not simply rehearsing the standard Cartesian claim that the only possible modes of matter are relations of distance.20 At the deepest level, Bayle’s argument turns not on the equation of material substance with extension, but more generally on the Cartesian ontology of substance—that is, on the conception of finite substance as comprised of a principal attribute and a collection of modes that are, ontologically speaking, nothing over and above the substance itself. That it is this principle of Cartesian metaphysics rather than simply the analysis of matter as res extensa that lies at the heart of Bayle’s argument is made clear by his willingness to extend his reasoning to principal attributes other than extension: But if you wish to base sensation on some attribute of matter other than the three dimensions, and unknown to our minds, I would answer you that the changes of this attribute ought to resemble the changes of extension. These latter can never make all figure and motion cease; and so the changes of this unknown attribute would not cause all sensation to cease. They would only bring about the passage from one sensation to another. (DHC “Dicéarque” rem. C, 286; P 67) If this line of argument is successful, Bayle will have blocked any attempt to attribute the power of thinking to a difference in configuration or “disposition”

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between the parts of animate and inanimate material substances. However, as an argument for mind-body dualism Bayle’s first effort suffers from an important limitation. Rather than prove the impossibility of thinking matter, what the argument does is to present the defender of materialism with a dilemma: either the soul, or that which has the power of thinking, is really distinct from the body, or all material substances think. Given that the first horn constitutes an explicit admission of mind-body dualism, the materialist position threatens to degenerate into a form of panpsychism. Still, however contrary to common sense Bayle may take such a view to be, the fact remains that a materialist could avoid inconsistency by embracing the view that matter qua matter is endowed with the power of thought. It is perhaps for this reason that in later discussions Bayle makes little of this first consideration, preferring instead an argument that shows “the impossibility of joining together the three dimensions and thought in the same subject” (DHC “Dicéarque” rem. M, 288b; P 73). It is to that argument that I now turn.

THE ACHILLES OF RATIONALIST ARGUMENTS In an extended discussion of the atomistic system of Leucippus, Bayle again takes up the question of the nature of the soul and the tenability of reductive materialism, arguing for the untenability of even Weak Materialism. For the ancient atomists the fundamental elements or principles out of which all bodies are ultimately composed are extended, solid physical atoms of various shapes and sizes. As the ultimate principles of all physical objects, these atoms were held to be indivisible, given that division requires physical separation and no smaller bodies exist that might act so as to separate them. Further it was claimed that each atom is endowed with a natural inclination to motion by virtue of its innate heaviness. All of the properties of composite physical objects were explained in terms of the various sizes and motions of their component parts. Thus, the sensible qualities of complex physical objects were explained in terms of the differing configurations and motions of the atoms out of which they are composed. Similarly, although individual atoms are insentient, human beings were held to be wholly composed of these insentient principles, which when arranged in a certain configuration, give rise to conscious thought. Thus, like Dicaearchus, the ancient atomists espoused a version of what I have called Strong Materialism. In the article “Leucippe” Bayle somewhat cryptically observes that he is continually surprised that the ancient atomists never posited the existence of atoms that are essentially animate, as this would have afforded “some reply” to two otherwise devastating objections that can be brought to bear against their system. The fi rst of these is the anti-emergence argument that we examined earlier. The second is an argument that Kant, in his discussion of the paralogisms of pure reason, called “the Achilles of all dialectical inferences.” The Achilles, whose origin can be traced back at least as

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far as Plotinus, is in fact not a single argument but a genus or collection of closely related arguments, all of which seek to establish the incompatibility of thought with complex, extended matter. 21 Perhaps the most important species, and at any rate, the one that Bayle employs against the materialists, might be called the argument from the Unity of Consciousness (UC). The crucial premise of all of the various formulations of UC is that the subject of thought must be a single unified entity, since if it were not, perception and thought would be impossible, or at least radically incoherent. It is then claimed that material substances, being composites of further material substances, lack this unity that is a necessary precondition of thought. As Bayle puts the point, “if a thinking substance was unified only in the way a sphere is, it would never see a whole tree at once; it would never feel the pain produced by a stick” (DHC “Leucippe” rem. E, 101; P 130). The Achilles, then, attempts to show that there is an essential incompatibility between coherent thought and extension—an incompatibility that precludes their coexistence in a single object. Bayle himself gives two versions of the argument. In the fi rst, we are asked to consider a physical globe whose surface is painted with all of the various geographical features of the earth. Let us now assume that this globe “is capable of knowing the shapes with which it has been decorated.” It would follow from this that just as no geographical feature is represented by a single, indivisible part of the globe, so too the globe: would contain nothing that could say, “I know all Europe, all France, the whole city of Amsterdam, the whole Vistula”; each part of the globe could only know the portion of the shape that fell to it; and since that part would be so small as not to represent any place entirely . . . no act of knowledge would result from this capacity; and at least it would be the case that these acts of knowing would be very different from those that we experience; for they make us know an entire object, an entire tree, an entire horse and so on, which is complete proof that the subject that is affected by the entire image of these objects is not at all divisible into several parts. (DHC “Leucippe” rem. E, 101; P 130) According to Bayle, were a material substance to be endowed with thought, it could never form a coherent thought or a complete perception, because each “part” of the perception would belong to a distinct part of the material substance. But in order for there to be a coherent perception of, say, a tree, the entire perceptual image must exist in a single individual center of consciousness. Just as three people, each of whom heard a different note, would never succeed in hearing a complete chord, so too a material substance whose component parts each perceive only a portion of a sense perception would never perceive an entire image. In the second version of the argument, Bayle maintains that a thinking material substance would be incapable of feeling the pain that results from being struck with a stick,

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“since the pain would divide itself into as many particles as there are in the organs that are struck” (DHC “Leucippe” rem. E, 101; P 130). However, because matter is infi nitely divisible, each organ is composed of an infi nite number of particles. As a result, “the portion of pain that would belong to each one would be so small that it would not be felt” (ibid.). Now, regardless of its philosophical pedigree, this argument is apt to strike the modern reader as dubious at best. The crucial premise in both versions is that if a complex material object could think, then for any given thought or perception, every physical part of the object would constitute a distinct center of consciousness that would perceive some limited portion of the entire perception. As Bayle puts the point with respect to the perceiving globe, “each part of the globe could only know the portion of the shape that fell to it.” Once this premise is granted, it is relatively easy to show that a unified center of consciousness such as we experience in ourselves is incompatible with material substance. But this is precisely where the argument appears to falter, since it fails to rule out the possibility that a complex material object might perceive an entire tree even though its individual parts perceive nothing. In this case the entire perception would belong to the material substance taken as a whole. In short, the argument appears to commit the fallacy of division by illicitly attributing a property (being an individual center of perceptual awareness) to each of the component parts of an object simply because that same property belongs to the object considered as a whole. Unfortunately, in neither of his two formulations does Bayle defend this crucial premise. How then are we to reconstruct his argument? Bayle does, I think, provide a number of interpretive clues, none of which are to be found in the Dictionnaire itself. The fi rst occurs in a discussion of Locke in the Réponse aux questions d’un provincial. There Bayle argues in effect that the Achilles is sound only if one maintains that extension is the essence of material substance. If, on the contrary, extension is held to be a mere accidental quality inhering in an unextended substratum, then the Achilles loses its force. He writes: if extension is only an accident of matter, it follows that matter considered according to its essence and substance is not extended, and that therefore it could indeed exist without any extension. . . . Now [in this case], I do not see how it can be said that matter has some attribute that is incompatible with thought. (OD III, 941b–42a )22 For Bayle, then, it is not the mere fact that matter is extended and thought is not that renders them incapable of coexisting in the same substance. Rather, it is only if extension is the essence of material substance that thought is precluded. This suggests that the argument turns on an account of the relation of substance and accident. Now, as we have seen, Bayle maintains that a substance is identical with its essence—that is, its

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principal attribute. Furthermore, extension is composed of actual parts. It follows from this that in a material substance whose essence is extension, the subject of inherence is essentially composite. Moreover, because the essence of extension consists in having partes extra partes, and these component parts do not inhere in one another, nor in any further substance, it follows that every extended object is essentially composed of a multiplicity of parts, each of which is itself a substance. 23 Thus, for Bayle the incompatibility between coherent thought and matter stems from the fact that the latter is essentially extended, and therefore a composite of distinct, extended substances. 24 The second clue can be found in a version of the argument offered in the Theses Philosophiae. There Bayle begins with the familiar claim that if a substance is extended, then it is incapable of thinking because “a thinking thing is necessarily a unity, but no extended thing is a unity.”25 However, he defends the claim that the perceptions of a thinking material substance would necessarily be divided among its physical parts by an appeal to motion: it is evident that if the thing that wills is extended, then the act of willing is coextensive with it, or is found in each of its parts, as motion is coextensive with the moving thing, or is found in each part of the movable object. Therefore, just as there is nothing in the thrown rock (were it endowed with the power of speech) that could truly say, “I have all the motion that has been imparted to the rock,” similarly were an extended soul to will something, there would be nothing in it that could truly say, “I have the entire act of willing.” (OD IV, 142)26 If this is merely to be taken as an analogy between that which is active in the mind and that which is active in matter, then I do not fi nd it very helpful. However, I suggest that if we combine what Bayle says here with his earlier observation that extension must be the essence of matter for the Achilles to be sound, the following argument emerges. Matter or extended substance is by nature a composite of further material substances. Now, because it is this complex that must serve as the subject of inherence for all of the substance’s qualities, it follows that if a quality is to inhere in such a subject, it must inhere in each of its parts. To put the point another way, in any material substance, the subject of inherence is by its very nature a plurality or complex of subjects. Therefore to say that a given property inheres in an extended, physical thing entails that the property inheres in each of its component parts. 27 It is this claim that Bayle is illustrating with the appeal to motion. To say that motion inheres in some complex material substance like a stone is to say that motion inheres in each of its constituent parts. This principle, which we might call the Principle of Essential Inherence (PEI), can be formulated more precisely as follows:

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PEI: For any real property p that is a determinate of some determinable G, if p inheres in an essentially complex subject S, then there must inhere in every part of S some real property q that is a determinate of the determinable G. Given this premise it follows that if thought were to inhere in an extended, material subject, it would inhere in each part of that substance. At this point it might be objected that although motion conforms to this principle, the argument still commits the fallacy of division, since the same does not hold true of other properties such as shape. For one can easily imagine assembling a physical cube out of a number of parts, none of which are themselves cubic. However, such an objection would miss the point. Bayle’s claim is not that if a certain velocity v inheres in a stone then all of its parts must likewise have velocity v, but that they must have some motion. Similarly, the component parts of a cube need not themselves be cubic, but they must have some shape. And therefore, if some particular thought is to inhere in a complex material substance, then every substantial part of that subject must itself have some property of thought.28 It remains to be shown (a) that every physical part in which a thought inheres would be a separate center of consciousness and (b) that each of these parts perceives only some portion of the entire thought. The fi rst of these two claims follows immediately from Bayle’s view that the only objects of which the mind can be aware are its own modifications. This claim is clearly expressed in the unpublished letter in which Bayle asserts that “Father Malebranche could never explain how a separate idea could be the object of a soul of which it cannot be a modification.”29 Now since no act of awareness can inhere at once in two numerically distinct substances, it follows that were thought to inhere in a complex material object, every part of the material substance would be a distinct center of consciousness capable of perceiving only its own modes of thought.30 Given this, we can interpret Bayle’s discussion of the perception of a tree as an attempt to conceive what it would mean for a thought to inhere in every distinct component of a composite substance. As Bayle sees it, either the entire thought inheres in every substantial part or some portion of the complete thought inheres in each part. But the former is absurd, since given the infi nite divisibility of matter, it would imply that in every human being perceiving a tree, there would be not one, but an infi nite number of perceivers. Thus, by accepting the fi rst alternative: you introduce an infinite number of superfluous things into the world. You can maintain your view only by making an inconceivable assumption, namely, that the image of a horse and the idea of a square, being received into a soul composed of an infi nity of parts, are preserved in their entirety in each part. . . . [In reply] I will rest content with asking you if your supposition does not manifestly include this monstrous

46

Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics consequence, namely, that . . . in a man who reads there are an infi nite number of things that read and each one knows that it reads? However, each one of us knows by experience that there is only one thing in himself that knows that it reads. (DHC “Leucippe” rem. E, 101; P 132)31

Of course, Bayle is not entitled to the claim that we “know by experience” that in every sentient human being there is only one center of consciousness. For how could we know such a thing? Indeed, the Achilles turns on the claim that each distinct center of consciousness can be aware only of its own modes of thought. Still, his point is telling, for surely it would be absurd to claim that every conscious organism contains an infi nite number of perceivers each of which perceives the same thing. If the complete thought cannot inhere in each part of the material substance, it must be the case that some “part” of the complete thought inheres in each part of the material substance. Now, given that for Bayle thoughts are mereological simples, this can only be conceived in terms of, as it were, dividing up the content of the thought. 32 Consider the case of a visual perception. The only way we can conceive this perception being divided is in terms of its complex representational content. Each part of the material substance would perceive a different portion of the visual image, with the result that no single perceiver would perceive the entire image, contrary to what we experience in ourselves. But what of nonrepresentational thoughts, such as sensations of pain?33 In this case division is conceivable only in terms of degrees of intensity. To put the point somewhat artificially, if we have a sensation of pain of one hundred degrees of intensity, we could conceive its being divided into one hundred distinct sensations each having an intensity of one degree. Now, since matter is infi nitely divisible, the intensity of each individual sensation of pain would approach zero; hence Bayle’s conclusion that “the pain would be so small that it would not be felt.” So what initially appeared to be two equivalent formulations of UC turn out to be complimentary components of Bayle’s refutation. 34 The conclusion Bayle draws from the Achilles is that the subject of coherent thought or felt sensations cannot be an essentially extended thing. The argument amounts to a rejection of both Strong and Weak Materialism. However, unlike the anti-emergence argument that we analyzed earlier, the Achilles does not rely on the claim that the only modes of which matter is capable are those that admit of quantification.35 Indeed, strictly speaking, Bayle’s version of the Achilles does not seek to establish an essential incompatibility between matter and every mental mode, but the more limited claim that if thought were a modification of matter, it would be radically incoherent. Or to put the point another way, the Achilles attempts to establish an incompatibility between mental acts such as we experience in ourselves and inherence in an essentially extended substance. Thus the Achilles constitutes Bayle’s considered reply to the rhetorical question that

Mind-Body Dualism

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he himself had put to Poiret some fi fteen years earlier: “how do we know that [shape and motion] are the only modes of which matter is capable?”

IMMORTALITY AND THE NATURE OF THE HUMAN MIND The Achilles, then, attempts to establish mind-body dualism on the grounds that the essence of material substance consists in actual extension and is therefore a composite of further substances. Because any mode of thought inhering in an essentially complex subject would be radically incoherent, Bayle concludes that the subject of mental acts must be a simple, unextended immaterial substance. Of course, one of the principal motivations for mounting a defense of mind-body dualism was the hope of securing a rational demonstration of the immortality of the soul. In the seventeenth century such arguments typically proceeded from the premise that the soul is a simple, immaterial substance to the conclusion that it cannot be driven out of existence by any natural cause, since natural destruction consists in the dissolution of a composite into its component parts. Lacking such parts, the soul is immune to destruction by natural forces and so—barring a supranatural act of annihilation—immortal.36 Yet despite his rejection of even Weak Materialism, Bayle raises serious doubts concerning the capacity of unaided reason to arrive at knowledge of the soul’s immortality. According to Bayle, it could be argued that in order to demonstrate the immortality of the soul: it is not enough to know that the soul can be destroyed only by annihilation. That is true of extension, and nevertheless trees and animals are mortal. Therefore, it would be necessary to say, I know that the soul cannot subsist without thought; the distinct idea that I have of spiritual and indivisible substance informs me that if it were shorn of thought, it would no longer exist. (DHC “Pomponace” rem. F, 781; Bayle’s emphasis)37 To secure rational knowledge of personal immortality, it does not suffice to demonstrate that the soul, or that which thinks, is a simple, immaterial substance. For although this would preclude its natural destruction, it might still be the case that the faculty of thought is merely an accident of immaterial substance. In this case the soul could lose the power of thought without ceasing to exist, just as a living organism can perish despite the natural indestructibility of the matter of which it is composed. Thus, according to Bayle, one who wishes to deny the immortality of the soul could hold that: substances distinct from the body are . . . of such a nature as to be able to retain their existence without having any thought, and that therefore spirituality is not a necessary proof of immortality. For if the life of

48 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics the soul consists in thought, it is certain that the complete cessation of thought would truly be the death of the soul. That is why the soul could die without ceasing to be a spiritual substance. (DHC “Pomponace” rem. F, 781)38 Thus, an indispensable condition of immortality is that the soul be an essentially thinking thing. Why then does Bayle not maintain with Descartes and Malebranche that the principal attribute of the mind is actual thought? One reason is that, as we saw in Chapter 1, Bayle fi nds the concept of res cogitans deeply problematic.39 However, equally important for our purposes is the manner by which the immateriality of the soul must be established. The Achilles tells us nothing about the nature of thinking substance other than that it must possess true unity. Although we can infer that the primary attribute of mind must be other than extension, there is nothing in the argument itself that entails that that attribute is thought.40 Nor, Bayle maintains, have we reason to assert the incompatibility of modes of thought with some third kind of attribute, for “if God can join thought to one unextended being, he could also join it with another unextended being, there being nothing but extension that seems to us to make matter incapable of thought” (DHC “Rorarius” rem. G, 82; P 233). Thus, although the Achilles provides us with secure knowledge of the immateriality of the soul, it affords no rational assurance of our immortality.41 In the Recherche de la vérité Malebranche famously took issue with Descartes’s contention that “the nature of the human mind is better known than body” (AT VII, 23; CSM II, 16).42 Malebranche insisted on what he took to be a deep asymmetry in the manner in which we know the mind and that in which we know matter. By virtue of our clear and distinct idea of extension, we can know a priori and with complete certainty the properties of matter as well as the full range of modes of which it is capable. However, in the case of mind we lack a clear idea of the soul; what immediate knowledge we have of the mental is wholly owing to inner sentiment (sentiment intérieur). But while we can have by this means certain knowledge of the soul’s existence, the same is not true of its nature or essence (OCM I, 451ff.). Nevertheless, Malebranche insists that we are in a position to demonstrate the spirituality of the soul. In Éclaircissement XI Malebranche clarifies that such knowledge can be achieved only indirectly, by establishing that thought cannot be a mode of matter, understood as res extensa. Although he does not explicitly mention Malebranche, Bayle’s worry concerning the alleged proof of the immortality of the soul is not unrelated to Malebranche’s position. In denying that we have demonstrative knowledge of the mind, Malebranche sometimes puts his point by claiming that we have no clear idea of thought.43 More often, however, Malebranche insists that we do not have an idea of the essence or nature of the soul.44 By putting the point in terms of the essence of the soul, Malebranche leaves himself open to the rejoinder that this view undermines his own official

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position that the essence of the soul is actual or “substantial” thought. Indeed, this is precisely how Bayle understands Malebranche’s position. In the article “Simonide” Bayle observes that: the most subtle Cartesians maintain that we have no idea at all of a spiritual substance. We know only by experience that it thinks, but we do not know what the nature of the being is whose modifications are thoughts. We do not know what is their subject, nor what is the substratum [fond] in which thoughts inhere. (DHC “Simonide” rem. F, 211; P 282) On this reading of Malebranche’s claim, such awareness as we have of our modes of thought proves only that the soul is a thing that is capable of thought. As Malebranche himself emphasizes: if one doubts, if one wills, if one reasons, one must only believe that the soul is a thing that doubts, wills and reasons, and nothing more . . . for one knows the soul only by the inner sensation one has of it. (OCM II, 369–70; LO 480) It is for this reason that Malebranche maintains that our knowledge of the spirituality of the soul rests on an argument for the impossibility of thinking matter. But such arguments fail to prove that the soul is an essentially thinking thing, still less that its essence is “substantial thought.” Hence, Bayle’s point is that for all we know, thought could be to the soul as life is to a material substance—a remark that is in keeping with his observation that the essence of the soul might best be located in the power of thinking.45

CONCLUSION Mori has argued that Bayle’s concession that we do not know the essence of the mind “quite obviously implies the possibility of materialism.”46 But as we can now see, Bayle would reject this implication. By means of the Achilles, we are indeed in a position to demonstrate the immateriality of the human mind despite our lack of a clear idea of its essence. In fact, the Achilles employs the same indirect argumentative strategy that Malebranche contends all Cartesians must adopt, that is, to appeal to our clear idea of matter to prove that thought cannot be one of its modifications.47 Where Bayle does part company with Malebranche is over the claim that our idea of extension suffices to prove the immortality of the soul. For Bayle sees what Malebranche arguably did not, namely that it is not enough for demonstrating the immortality of the mind that thought cannot be a mode of extension and that therefore the mind is simple. To have perfect assurance on this score we must know that the soul is an essentially thinking thing.

3

Critique of Lockean Superaddition

One of the deepest and most abiding of Bayle’s philosophical preoccupations concerns the possibility of rational theology, or more specifically, the extent to which unaided reason is competent to secure the fundamental tenets of orthodox Christianity. Doubtless the most familiar aspect of this intellectual “obsession” is his tenacious criticism of traditional solutions to the problem of evil. Yet these discussions represent only one facet of Bayle’s engagement with the complex issues involved in the question of rational theology. In addition to the questions of mind-body dualism and personal immortality that I examined in the previous chapter, Bayle is equally concerned with our knowledge of the existence of a transcendent, immaterial God. The three topics are, of course, interrelated, and Bayle rarely treats them in complete isolation. As we have seen, the more qualified defense of mind-body dualism that Bayle offers in his later years carries negative implications for any rational inference to the immortality of the soul. Nevertheless, Bayle continued to see the distinctness of mind and body as a necessary condition of rational theology and therefore one of the principal ramparts against the threat of materialistic atheism. At the end of the seventeenth century this constellation of issues is nowhere more urgently brought to the fore than by Locke’s agnosticism concerning the possibility of thinking matter. The controversy with Bishop Stillingfleet, which Locke’s suggestion helped to engender, was a major intellectual event in Europe, and one that Bayle followed avidly. In the course of this debate, as in the Essay itself, Locke invoked the possibility of superaddition in an attempt to secure the existence of an immaterial transcendent God while holding open the possibility that created, fi nite material substances might be endowed with the power of thought. In the fi rst part of this chapter I shall examine two important arguments that Bayle develops against Lockean superaddition. Taken together these arguments constitute a sophisticated critique of Lockean superaddition. However, I shall go on to argue that for Bayle himself the serious threat to rational theology lies less in the claim that matter might think by way of superaddition, than in the move to abandon the Cartesian analysis of matter as res extensa. More specifically I shall argue that for Bayle if we

Critique of Lockean Superaddition 51 once reject the view that extension is the essence of matter, we are left with no rational basis for upholding substance dualism. To renounce our clear and distinct idea of extension as the essence of matter is tantamount in Bayle’s eyes to opening the door to materialistic atheism.

LOCKEAN SUPERADDITION IN THE DICTIONNAIRE In a familiar passage from his discussion of the extent and limits of human knowledge, Locke denied that we have demonstrative knowledge of the immateriality of the mind. He wrote: We have the Ideas of Matter and Thinking, but possibly shall never be able to know, whether any mere material Being thinks, or no; it being impossible for us, by the contemplation of our own Ideas, without revelation, to discover, whether Omnipotency has not given to some Systems of Matter fitly disposed, a power to perceive and think, or else joined and fi xed to Matter so disposed, a thinking immaterial Substance: It being, in respect of our Notions, not much more remote from our Comprehension to conceive, that GOD can, if he pleases, superadd to Matter a Faculty of Thinking, than that he should superadd to it another Substance, with a Faculty of Thinking. (Essay IV, iii.6, 540–41) Locke’s conception of superaddition has proved notoriously difficult to interpret, in part because it involves a host of controversial issues that lie at the heart of his philosophy—the doctrine of real essences, the bare substratum account of substance, and the relative strength of his commitment to mechanism. Although I cannot address this thorny interpretive question here, it is fair to say that in the recent literature two broad lines of interpretation have emerged. The fi rst, which we might call the metaphysical interpretation, emphasizes those passages in which Locke seems positively to deny that there is any necessary connection between the characteristic operations of the primary qualities of a body and a number of its observed qualities, such as the cohesion of its parts, the power to produce sensations in perceiving minds, and (later) gravitational force. On this reading Locke’s willingness to countenance superadded qualities or powers represents an important qualification to his official position, that the characteristics of bodies are logically deducible from the real essence of matter, and an admission that some characteristics of material substances find their causal origin in brute regularities established by divine appointment. According to the second view, which we might call the epistemological interpretation, Locke’s claim is not the dogmatic one that there is no rational connection between, say, matter and thought, but the weaker claim that we fi nite human beings cannot perceive any such connection owing either to cognitive limitations or the inadequacy of our concept of substantial

52 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics essences. On this view Locke’s talk of superaddition does not represent a weakening of his commitment to mechanistic explanation, but is simply a characterization of the way the relation of matter and a number of its observed characteristics must inevitably appear to us—namely, as an arbitrary connection established by divine fiat. In the case of matter and thought, Locke’s notion of superaddition has another important role to play. For in his proof of God’s existence (Essay IV, x), Locke straightforwardly denies that mere matter in motion could be causally responsible for conscious thought. Nevertheless, Locke observes, we have intuitive knowledge of our own existence as thinking beings, from which he concludes both that there must be an eternal, cogitative being, and that the presence of thought in fi nite, created substances must be owing to an act of divine superaddition. Thus it is by appeal to superaddition as a necessary condition for the existence of thought in fi nite substances that Locke attempts to hold open the possibility of thinking matter, while securing demonstrative knowledge of the existence and nature of God. It is precisely in the context of our knowledge of the existence and nature of God that Bayle takes up the question of Lockean superaddition. In the article “Jupiter” Bayle argues that the tendency of ancient philosophers to conceive of the gods as physical beings was a natural consequence of their failure to recognize the immateriality of the human mind. Bayle goes on to express dismay bordering on outrage that some Christian philosophers have been prepared to claim that matter might be endowed with the power of thought. For if we once abandon our clear and distinct idea of matter and allow that a material substance might think, the existence of God as an immaterial, transcendent creator of the universe can no longer be secured. He writes: Nothing seems to me to be based on clearer and more distinct ideas than the immateriality of that which thinks; and nevertheless, there are some philosophers in Christendom who maintain that matter is capable of thinking, and these are philosophers of great ability and acumen. Can one rely on the clarity of ideas after that? Besides, do these philosophers not see that on such a basis the ancient philosophers could have gone so far astray as to claim that all intelligent substances had a beginning and that only matter was eternal? (DHC “Jupiter” rem. G, 904; P 114–15) If there was any doubt as to the identity of the “philosophers of Christendom,” Bayle dispels it with his next remark: This difficulty is not overcome by contending that matter only becomes something that thinks through a particular gift of God. This would not prevent it from being true that its nature was susceptible of thought; and that to make it actually something that thinks, it would suffice to

Critique of Lockean Superaddition 53 agitate it, or to arrange it in a certain way; from which it would follow that an eternal matter without any intelligence but not without movement would have been capable of producing gods and men. (DHC “Jupiter” rem. G, 904; P 115; slightly emended) It is important to distinguish two implications Bayle thinks would follow from the possibility of superaddition. First, if the power of thinking could be superadded to a complex material system, then the essence of matter must be compatible with that faculty. However, Bayle carries the point farther, arguing that this essential compatibility between matter and the faculty of thinking would render any appeal to God superfluous, since in such a case it would suffice for the production of thought to rearrange the physical parts of a material substance so as to confer upon them the configuration that is causally responsible for thinking. This latter claim is extremely puzzling, since it is difficult to see why one who maintains that God can modify the nature of a created substance by “annexing” thought to it, is committed to the view that thought could arise from mere mechanical interactions, even in the absence of any divine activity. I shall return to this question presently, but for now I want to turn to the second occurrence of superaddition in the Dictionnaire. As we saw in the previous chapter, in the article “Dicéarque,” Bayle develops a standard Cartesian argument against the reducibility of thought to modes of material substance, arguing in part that “no one has claimed to have a clear idea of a modification of matter that is an act of sensation.” In confi rmation of this he cites a passage from the Third Letter to Stillingfl eet. There Locke had conceded the inconceivability of thinking material substance. However, he went on to defend the possibility that matter might think by rejecting the inference from inconceivability to impossibility: That Omnipotency cannot make a substance to be solid and not solid at the same time, I think, with due reverence, we may say; but that a solid substance may not have qualities, perfections and powers, which have no natural or visibly necessary connexion with solidity and extension, is too much for us . . . to be positive in. . . . So that all the difficulties that are raised against the thinking of matter from our ignorance or narrow conceptions, stand not at all in the way of the power of God, if he pleases to ordain it so; nor prove anything against his having actually endued some parcels of matter, so disposed as he thinks fit, with a faculty of thinking, till it can be shown that it contains a contradiction to suppose it. (Works IV, 465–66) For Locke, Stillingfleet’s appeal to the inconceivability of thinking matter is inconclusive because it amounts to no more than an argument from ignorance, and a particularly egregious one at that, insofar as it invokes human ignorance to establish limits on divine omnipotence. According to

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Locke, the possibility of thinking matter could be ruled out only if it could be shown that the supposition involves a formal contradiction, which he maintains is beyond the limits of human reason. Bayle seizes on this argument and goes on to criticize it as follows: here is a formal admission of the incomprehensibility of the thing, and a recourse to the extent of God’s power on effects that are beyond the limits of our understanding. It is in much the same manner that the Schoolmen suppose that there is in creatures an obediential power, by which God might raise them, if he wished, to any state whatsoever. A stone might become capable of the beatific vision, a drop of water might become capable of washing away all the pollution of original sin. (DHC “Dicéarque” rem. M, 288; P 73) The argument might seem more like raillery than serious philosophical criticism. Yet as is often the case with Bayle, behind the rather laconic and bantering tone lies a serious and informed critique. To understand his position, we must turn to his discussion of obediential powers in his lectures on metaphysics. There Bayle explains that the Scholastic philosophers “understand by an obediential power, a certain power of receiving from God acting extraordinarily a virtue [talem infl uxum], by which supernatural effects are produced by creatures, as if for example God could bestow upon a stone the power to create and to reason.”1 Interestingly, Bayle observes that the primary argument put forward in support of obediential powers is “that the supposition contains no contradiction in it, and one must attribute to God the power of doing anything that does not imply a contradiction.”2 Now, whatever differences there may be between the Scholastic doctrine of obediential powers and Lockean superaddition, Bayle is drawing attention to what he takes to be two fundamental similarities. First, both Locke and the Scholastics attempt to draw a distinction between the natural powers of a creature, that is, those powers that follow from the nature or essence of the thing, and those that God can bestow upon it by a sort of extraordinary concourse. As we have seen, this distinction is crucial for Locke, since it provides a basis for demonstrative knowledge of God’s existence based on his indispensable role in introducing thought into any system of fi nite substances. Second, Bayle argues that both Locke and the Scholastics seek to defend the possibility of such divinely induced extraordinary powers by claiming that the supposition does not involve a formal contradiction, and that God is capable of bringing about any noncontradictory state of affairs. In response to the fi rst claim, Bayle argues that the distinction upon which the doctrines of obediential powers and superaddition jointly rest, namely, the distinction between the natural powers of a created object and those that might be divinely induced, is badly drawn. As Bayle puts the

Critique of Lockean Superaddition 55 point, “when a thing is said to be performed naturally, this does not mean that it occurs . . . as a result of a certain virtue which is in things considered absolutely, prior to all other faculties.”3 Rather it simply means that: this thing occurs according to certain laws, which God according to his sovereign freedom has chosen from among many others no less fitting nor less compatible with the aptitudes of creatures: whence it follows that if God ever deviates from these laws and follows others, he acts no less in accordance with the aptitude of the creature, than in ordinary cases. (OD IV, 472)4 For Bayle the attributes and powers of material substance are of two kinds. First, there are those properties necessarily implied by the essence of matter in general. Because they are logically entailed by the nature of body qua body, these properties are universally present to matter in all its various forms. Second, there are those characteristics that arise from the specific nature of a material substance, that is, those qualities and powers associated with matter so configured as to belong to a certain species (say, a stone or a tree). Because such characteristics are accidental to matter qua matter their presence is wholly owing to God’s pleasure. Specifically, God institutes a series of arbitrary connections between events and continuously observes them, thereby establishing the nomological regularities that give rise to the specific natures of material substances. However, although the accidental features of body are freely instituted by God, there is an important restriction on God’s free choice. For these divinely instituted regularities must respect the necessarily implied properties of matter qua matter. Even acting miraculously, God cannot violate the essence of matter, since to do so implies a formal contradiction. As Bayle puts the point: all Christian philosophers agree that there are no miracles with respect to the eternal laws, but only with respect to the arbitrary laws that it has pleased God to establish in Nature. . . . [I]f a law follows from the necessity of things, [and] if as a consequence it is immutable, do not expect an exception in any circumstance; that is impossible. Now among the laws, or eternal and immutable truths, none is more certain than that nothing occurs contrary to the essence of things. (OD III, 545a)5 For Bayle any power that could be superadded to material substance would have to be compatible with the essence of matter—not because the possession and exercise of such powers would otherwise require a standing miracle (this was Leibniz’s complaint against superaddition), but because even a miracle cannot violate substantial essences. Therefore, whatever additional powers a thing may have as a result of its receiving various modifications, they are all based upon and restricted by the fundamental capacities of

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matter qua matter. Thus for Bayle there is no deep ontological distinction to be drawn between those powers that follow naturally from the nature of a thing and those that arise only through superaddition. For substances have no nature that can be overcome only by supernatural effort. A quality or power is either compatible with the essence of matter or it is not. If it is not, then even God cannot endow matter with the power. If it is compatible with the essence of body qua body, but is nevertheless accidental to it, then whether or not certain suitably configured objects have this power is simply a question of what are the contingent laws of nature that govern their behavior. It is in this way that Bayle attempts to make good on his fi rst criticism of superaddition, namely, that it relies on a spurious distinction between natural and divinely induced powers. Before moving on to his second criticism, I want to pause for a moment to return to the puzzle I raised earlier concerning the allusion to superaddition in the article “Jupiter.” Recall that in that passage Bayle alleged that if one holds with Locke that God can superadd the power of thinking to a material substance, it follows not only that thought must be compatible with the essence of matter, but that in order to induce thought in a particular substance, it would suffice to manipulate its parts mechanically so as to confer upon it the physical structure that is causally responsible for thinking. With Bayle’s fi rst criticism of superaddition in hand, we are now in a position to understand why this should be so. For as we have just seen, Bayle’s argument turns on the claim that even a miracle cannot violate the essence of matter. It follows immediately that any property, superadded or otherwise, must be compatible with the essence of matter. But what of Bayle’s further claim, namely, that if thought were so compatible with the essence of matter that it could be superadded to body, then God’s role would be superfluous and thought could be made to arise merely from mechanical reconfiguration of its parts? Here we move from the general question of the ontological distinction between the properties of matter qua matter and the specific essence of material substances, to the specific question what in fact is the essence of body qua body. And as I argued in Chapter 1, Bayle consistently maintains that it is extension: “All the modes of bodies are based on the essential attributes of bodies, which are the three dimensions.”6 It follows that for Bayle the essential properties of body qua body are divisibility, impenetrability, and occupation of place. However, in addition to logically implying the universal presence of certain properties in body, the essence of extension also places restrictions on how it can be causally affected. Specifically, it follows from the equation of matter and extension that body can be acted upon only by impulse, or more specifically by imparting different degrees of motion to its parts. As Bayle puts the point, “no one distinctly conceives that matter is capable of effects other than those of impulsion and what follows from impulsion.”7 Indeed, Bayle takes this consideration so seriously that in the article “Simonides,”

Critique of Lockean Superaddition 57 he argues that the immateriality of God in conjunction with the nature of matter render inconceivable how God could be the efficient cause of motion unless he recreates it at each moment.8 This is the substantial essence that limits God’s choice of physical laws of nature that establish the accidental features of particular substances. Any such law can include among its antecedent conditions only those modalities of which extension is capable, namely, various shapes and motions. So if God could superadd thought to body, he would have to do so by establishing arbitrary psychophysical laws of nature that dictate that on the occurrence of certain physical configurations of its material parts, particular acts of thought should occur. It follows for Bayle, that if such laws were to obtain, thought could arise in material substance solely from the mechanical manipulation of its parts. Thus God’s indispensable role in endowing matter with the power of thinking is effectively undermined.9 Margaret Wilson has argued that Locke’s theory of superaddition rests on a distinction between the essence of body qua body and the real essences of specific material substances, such as rocks and trees. Locke’s assertion that matter may think amounts to the claim that although thought is not a natural consequence of the former, it might “follow from” the latter. On this reading “God superadds the properties of a peach tree to matter (to which motion has already been added). Perhaps in so doing he creates a real essence (which could not come into being by matter-in-motion by itself).”10 This, I suggest, is precisely the view against which Bayle is concerned to argue. Because, for Bayle, all qualities of material substances that are not logically implied by the essence of matter are solely determined by arbitrary laws of nature, it follows that at most God’s role in “annexing” thought to matter would be strictly limited to establishing the relevant nomological regularities. However, because a materialistic atheist could consistently attribute these laws of nature to brute regularities that admit of no rational explanation, there would be no indispensable role for God to play, and thus the appeal to divine superaddition is theoretically superfluous. Moreover, because any psychophysical law must associate thought with possible states of material substance, if such nomological regularities were to obtain, it would follow that acts of thinking could be produced solely by rearranging the physical configuration of the relevant material substance. Bayle’s fi rst criticism, then, seeks to undermine the distinction between natural and divinely induced powers that provides the conceptual foundation for superaddition in general. His second criticism is that the supposition that matter might be capable of thinking is in fact contradictory. Bayle observes that “to refute this obediential power of matter with respect to knowledge” one could make use of an argument that “has always seemed to me very proper to show the impossibility of joining together the three dimensions and thought in the same subject” (DHC “Dicéarque” rem. M, 288; P 73). The argument that Bayle invokes is a version of the Achilles

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argument that I discussed in the preceding chapter. Recall that the burden of that argument is to establish the impossibility of coherent thought inhering in a composite material substance. Discursive thought, it is claimed, requires as its subject a single, unified center of consciousness. But, the argument continues, if a composite substance were to serve as the subject of inherence for our mental acts, then every physical part of that substance would constitute a distinct center of consciousness and therefore would be capable of perceiving only some limited portion of the entire thought. This is because matter or extended substance is by nature an ens per agregationem—that is, a mere aggregate of further material substances. Now, it is this complex that must serve as the subject of inherence for all of the substance’s qualities. Therefore, if a real quality is to inhere in such a subject, it must inhere in each of its parts. So material substances, being composites of further material substances, lack that unity that is a necessary precondition of thought. The upshot, Bayle maintains, is that there is an essential incompatibility between coherent mental representation and extended material substance. Thus, Bayle’s second argument represents a direct response to Locke’s challenge to demonstrate that there is a “formal contradiction” in the claim that matter might be made to think. Of course, understood as a critique of Lockean superaddition, it could plausibly be argued that both objections rest on a fundamental misunderstanding, namely, that Locke would concede that the essence of body qua body is impenetrable extension. That Bayle did in fact read Locke in this way in the Dictionnaire is suggested not only by the presuppositions of his two main objections, but in the very statement of Locke’s position, which Bayle characterizes as the denial that the mind is “a substance distinct from extension” (DHC “Jupiter” rem. G, 904; P 114).

THINKING MATTER REVISITED Although Coste’s French translation of the Essay appeared in 1700, it is difficult to determine the extent to which Bayle was directly acquainted with the work.11 However, it is tempting to think that he had occasion to revisit the Essay following the publication of the second edition of the Dictionnaire in 1702, since when he returns to these issues in the Réponse aux questions d’un provincial, Bayle’s interpretation of Locke has undergone a major revision. Bayle now treats Locke as a skeptic concerning the essence of substance in general, and in particular concerning the real essence of matter. However, it is not an unalloyed skepticism that Bayle attributes to Locke. For as Bayle now understands him, Locke positively denies that impenetrable extension constitutes the essence of body qua body, treating it instead as a mere property (in the technical Scholastic sense) of material substance. Bayle writes:

Critique of Lockean Superaddition 59 [Locke] did not believe that we know the nature of substances. He admitted that impenetrable extension, divisibility, [and] mobility were properties of matter, or of corporeal substance, but not the essence, or constitutive attribute of the substance of matter. Therefore, he believed that those properties subsist in a subject that is unknown to us. (OD III, 941b)12 As we shall see, this revised understanding of Locke’s position occasions a dramatic shift in Bayle’s argumentative strategy vis-à-vis Lockean thinking matter. However, before looking more closely at Bayle’s particular criticisms, it will be helpful to summarize briefly the main argument of the chapter in which it occurs. As part of an extended discussion of the argument for the existence of God based on universal consent, Bayle insists upon the difficulty of knowing the nature of God by unaided reason. He begins by observing that reason provides us with an excellent argument for the immateriality of God. He then produces a schematic version of the now familiar Achilles argument: “God must be an intelligent nature; everything that is composed of parts is incapable of intelligence; everything material is composed of parts; therefore God must be immaterial” (OD III, 940a).13 Although Bayle here characterizes the argument as “very strong” he goes on to observe that to be perfectly satisfied on this score, we must be able to answer all of the difficulties to which the doctrine of the immateriality of God gives rise. He then raises a number of general problems with this conclusion, one of which is of particular interest for our purposes. Bayle observes that if the argument is sound, it establishes the immateriality not only of God, but of all intelligent beings. However, this broader conclusion is open to several objections stemming from doubts concerning the nature of animal minds14 and the question of the spatial location of immaterial substances.15 It is in this context that Bayle once again takes up the question of thinking matter in Locke. For Bayle, it follows from Locke’s denial that extension, impenetrability, and mobility constitute the essence of matter that they must be mere accidents, since what does not belong to the essence of a thing is accidental to it, and hence separable from it. Underlying this interpretation is Bayle’s rejection of the Scholastic distinction between accidents and so-called propria quarto modo, that is, attributes that are necessarily conjoined with a substance without thereby constituting its essence. Such was said to be risibility in the case of human beings. For Bayle if an attribute is inseparable from a substance, then it is essential to it, since everything can exist “provided only that it has its essence.” Therefore the very notion of a nonessential but necessary attribute is self-contradictory: We, who do not recognize any difference between an attribute joined necessarily and an essential attribute, hold that the proprium quarto

60

Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics modo is an essential attribute that is really identified with the difference. (OD IV, 224)16

The rejection of properties as distinct from essence explains Bayle’s assertion that if extension is not the essence of matter, then it is accidental to matter, and therefore separable from it. It is for this reason, Bayle argues, that Locke was led to acknowledge the possibility that matter might think. For having made extension a mere accident of matter, and therefore separable from it, “Locke could not deny that he did not know what matter stripped of extension would be” (OD III, 941–42). An implication of this view is that the essence of matter is entirely unknown. However, in order to establish the incompatibility of two things, we must have clear and distinct ideas of both the one and the other. But lacking an idea of the essence of body qua body, we cannot rule out the possibility of a material substance that thinks (cf. OD IV, 112). Bayle goes on to compare Locke’s view to the Catholic doctrine of real accidents, with all of its attendant difficulties, most notably that extension conceived as an accident that is really distinct from its subject could not render that subject extended, and that it entails the Scholastic doctrine of eduction of forms, which is an inconceivable creation. It is worth pausing here to notice the remarkable shift that Bayle’s revised understanding of Locke has engendered. Far from being refuted by the Achilles argument, Locke’s view is now portrayed as calling its conclusion into serious doubt! Gone is all reference to violations of our clear and distinct ideas and to obediential powers. Indeed, Locke’s signature doctrine of superaddition, which was the central focus of the Dictionnaire discussion, is not so much as mentioned. How are we to explain these shifts? If my reading of the Achilles argument is correct, the fi rst of these textual puzzles can be readily explained. For as I have argued, the Achilles is founded on the premise that extension is the essence of matter, that is, that material substance is identical with extension in the three dimensions. However, Bayle now believes that Locke rejects this conception, and thus the Achilles is rendered impotent. Moreover, our ability to muster any argument for the immateriality of the mind is called into question, since if we do not know the nature of material substance, we cannot know whether thought is compatible with it or not. Thomas Lennon has expressed puzzlement about Bayle’s argumentative strategy in that his “criticism” seems to take the form of a reductio ad absurdum whose conclusion is that matter might be capable of thought.17 And, indeed, this does seem odd, since Bayle is well aware that this is precisely the view for which Locke is arguing. However, the tension can be resolved once we recognize that Bayle’s discussion proceeds in two stages. In the fi rst, which we have just analyzed, Bayle shows how Locke, beginning with the claim that extension is not the essence of matter, was forced to maintain that he did not know the essence of matter, which in turn led

Critique of Lockean Superaddition 61 him to hold open the possibility that matter might think. In this, Bayle was not so much criticizing Locke as explaining the logic of his position. But Bayle does not stop there. Beginning again with the Lockean premise that extension is not the essence of matter, Bayle proceeds to argue that “we are led directly” to the claim that there is only one kind of substance. For if extension is a mere accident, then it is separable from matter, and the principal attribute of matter, whatever it may be, must be unextended.18 But this implies that the only conceivable incompatibility between matter and thought—that established by the Achilles—has been removed. Nor can we draw a specific difference between material and mental substance by attributing to the former a natural aptitude for extension, which is absent in the latter. For again, if the essence of matter is unextended, we have no rational grounds for holding that thought is any more or less compatible with its essence than is extension. More generally, Bayle rejects the Scholastic notion of natural aptitudes as unintelligible: the [Scholastic concept of] an aptitude [exigentia] for extension attached to substance in general does not yield any distinct idea, but only a vague, confused and manifestly false idea, unless . . . you reduce this aptitude to a simple passive power which, because it distinctly signifies nothing but a lack of incompatibility, befits all possible beings and so is utterly incapable of constituting the specific difference of matter. (OD IV, 116)19 The upshot is that the refusal to equate impenetrable extension with material substance leads to the conclusion that there is only one type of substance, whose essence is unknown but unextended, and therefore is equally compatible with extension and thought. 20 Michael Ayers has argued that Locke’s doctrine of superaddition is best understood epistemologically—that is, as the claim that we fi nite humans cannot perceive any necessary connection between certain observable features of bodies, such as the cohesion of its parts, and the essence of matter. 21 Ayers further maintains that Locke’s chief reason for holding this is his skepticism concerning the nature of material substance. On Bayle’s view, once we reject extension as the essence of matter, the doctrine of superaddition becomes philosophically idle, since whatever the main attribute of matter turns out to be, it must be unextended, hence there is no conceivable incompatibility between thought and extension inhering in the numerically same substance. This, I suggest, is why Bayle makes no mention of Lockean superaddition or obediential powers in his fi nal works. Still, considered as a criticism of Locke, one might again be tempted to question the pertinence of Bayle’s criticism, since Locke’s point is after all that matter might be capable of thinking. But here the context of Bayle’s discussion—the attempt to achieve rational knowledge of the nature of God—supplies the missing premise. For, as Bayle understands him,

62 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics Locke certainly does want to say that there are two fundamentally different kinds of substance, since like all “philosophers of Christendom,” Locke is committed to the view that God is an immaterial, cogitative being. It is this claim that Locke’s skepticism about the nature of matter threatens to undermine.

CONCLUSION Perhaps better than any of his contemporaries Bayle clearly saw the tendency of seventeenth-century philosophy toward atheistic materialism and deism. 22 Yet if I am correct, for Bayle the seeds of materialism lay not so much in Locke’s controversial appeal to the possibility of superadding thought to matter as in the abandonment of the Cartesian view that extension is the essence of matter. As Bayle exclaims at the end of his discussion of Locke, “How much more advantageous would it be for religion to embrace the Cartesian principle that extension and matter are one and the same substance!”23 Time and again Bayle instances our clear and distinct idea of matter as res extensa as a paradigm of metaphysical knowledge. But as we saw in Chapter 1, Bayle was quite aware that the view was gradually being abandoned with the decline of Cartesian physics and the rise of Newtonian mechanics: [much] attention is required to discover the [primary] attribute of body in our idea of extension; one must combat . . . popular prejudices concerning the vacuum . . . In addition to this, there are several reasons from mechanics, which lead many great minds to assert that if there were no vacuum, there would be no motion. . . . It is in this way that the natural revelation concerning the identity of body and extension has grown dim. (OD III, 545a)24 In this sense, perhaps, Bayle sees Locke less as a progenitor of this tendency, then as a sign of the times.

4

The Problem of Causation

In Bayle’s eyes it is the theory of occasionalism that constitutes Malebranche’s most important contribution to modern philosophy. Bayle’s early works offer a spirited defense of the occasionalist account of causation, the arguments for which “scarcely admit of reply” (OD IV, 138). This is not to say that even at this early stage Bayle considered occasionalism to be entirely free of difficulty. As early as 1679, Bayle had raised several acute objections to Poiret’s version of the thesis. Toward the end of his life, Bayle’s attitude was even more complex. Bayle remained sufficiently convinced of the soundness of the occasionalist position to declare: I am persuaded that just as God alone can move bodies, it is God alone who can communicate ideas to our soul. It is not the cause of them; it does not know how to arouse them. It has ones that it would like not to have. . . . It is therefore God who communicates to us the idea we have of him. (OD III, 341a–b)1 In general, however, Bayle’s tone in these later works is one of diffidence and circumspection. Thus, in a discussion of the problem of mind-body interaction, Bayle observes that although the occasionalist solution “is subject to unfortunate drawbacks, nevertheless it seems to me that it is the only one that can be given” (OD III, 940b). Elsewhere he is even more cautious, characterizing the theory as simply “preferable to the common hypothesis” (OD III, 789b). From the outset it is important to distinguish two components of what Bayle sometimes refers to as “Malebranchism.” First, there is the theory of occasionalism proper—that is, the metaphysical account of causation according to which God alone is a real efficient cause, all fi nite objects being at most occasional causes. Second, there is Malebranche’s attempt to explain the presence of evil in a world created by a supremely perfect being. The key to Malebranche’s solution is that God must always act in a manner worthy of his supreme wisdom. It follows for Malebranche that in achieving His ends God must employ those means that are at once the simplest and most fecund. A corollary of this view is that God always acts

64 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics by general volitions in the order of nature. Although God may on occasion depart from such general volitions in the order of grace, Malebranche insists that God’s particular volitions are limited to those occasions on which he wishes to manifest himself to human beings through miracles. As a result Malebranche contends that although God could prevent the occurrence of calamities and other misfortunes that follow from the general laws of nature, to do so would require that he interrupt his ordinary activity with particular volitions, which would be an unacceptable violation of his supreme wisdom. Although early on Bayle shows some inclination to Malebranche’s theodicy, most notably in the Pensées diverses sur la comète, in his fi nal works Bayle unequivocally rejects the appeal to “the system of general laws” as an adequate explanation of God’s permission of evil.2 For Bayle it is God’s justice and benevolence that he must respect above all other attributes. To conceive of God as neglecting the claims of justice out of respect for his wisdom is to falsify our clear and distinct idea of the supremely perfect being. In the posthumous Entretiens de Maxime et de Themiste Bayle derides the notion of a God “who prides himself solely on [his] knowledge; [who] prefers to allow the whole human race to perish than to permit a few atoms to move more quickly or slowly than is dictated by the general laws.”3 With respect to the theory of occasionalism proper, it is important to distinguish those objections that are of a fundamentally theological or moral order from those that are strictly metaphysical in character. As we shall see, when Bayle questions the tenability of the occasionalist account of causation, it is always the theological and moral implications of the theory that are the source of his reservations. More specifically, Bayle worries that occasionalism cannot be reconciled with the ascription of freedom of indifference to creatures, with the result that the theory threatens to rob human beings of their moral agency and make God the author of sin. In this chapter and the next I will examine Bayle’s two most important discussions of causation. In the present chapter I focus on Bayle’s measured defense of occasionalism, while in the next I will examine his critical reflections on Leibniz’s rival account of causation, the theory of preestablished harmony. In both chapters I shall confi ne my attention to the theory of causation proper, leaving aside the difficulties that beset Malebranche’s theodicy.4 The theory of occasionalism consists of two fundamental theses: (i) no finite entity is a real cause of change, and (ii) all real changes are produced immediately by God. For the occasionalist every apparent case of real fi nite causation, be it a body affecting a body, a mind affecting a body, or a body affecting a mind, is only an occasion for God to exercise his causal efficacy. So, for example, when one billiard ball strikes another setting it in motion, the first ball is not the real but only occasional cause of motion in the second. The second ball is set in motion because God directly moves it upon impact according to the laws of motion that he himself has established. Similarly,

The Problem of Causation 65 when I will to raise my arm, my volition has no real causal efficacy, but merely provides the occasion upon which God causes my arm to be raised. The extent to which Descartes himself held the view is controversial, but within a few years of his death the theory had been embraced by a number of his most prominent followers, including Louis de La Forge and Géraud de Cordemoy.5 However, it is undoubtedly with Nicolas Malebranche that the doctrine is most closely associated, and it is under his influence that Bayle takes up the argument.6 Bayle advances a number of considerations in favor of occasionalism, each of which have some counterpart in Malebranche. However, in each case the philosophical differences are significant enough to merit careful consideration. In what follows I shall discuss Bayle’s treatment of three of the most prominent arguments for occasionalism: the Argument from Necessary Connection, the Quod Nescis Argument, and the Argument from Continuous Creation. I shall go on to consider Bayle’s critical reflections on the attempt by Malebranche to reconcile occasionalism with human freedom.

FONTENELLE AND THE ARGUMENT FROM NECESSARY CONNECTION In his own arguments for occasionalism, Bayle never, to my knowledge, appeals to one of the principal considerations advanced by Malebranche in favor of the doctrine, an argument that might be called the Necessary Connection Argument. The crucial premise of that argument is that if some event, A, is the real cause of another event, B, there must be a necessary connection between the occurrence of A and the occurrence of B. However, no such connection obtains between any two fi nite events. On the contrary, the only genuinely necessary connection between events is that which obtains between God’s willing some event and the occurrence of that event. From this it is concluded that God’s volitions alone are genuine efficient causes.7 Although Bayle himself never explicitly appeals to the argument, the claim that real causation requires a necessary connection figured as one of the central issues in an exchange between Bayle and Bernard de Fontenelle on the subject of Malebranche’s occasionalism.8 In Chapter 3 of his Doutes sur le système physique des causes occasionelles (1686), Fontenelle attempts to show that fi nite material objects are real efficient causes of the changes in motion that result from collision, arguing that there is a necessary connection between the collision of impenetrable, extended substances and the subsequent communication of motion among them (OCF I, 618–23). To illustrate this point Fontenelle imagines a scenario in which God has made no decree governing the communication of motion at impact. He then invites us to consider two bodies, A and B, of unequal size and speed, converging on a single point in space. Fontenelle

66 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics contends that given their impenetrability, if A and B collide, there must occur a change in motion in one or both bodies. However, because by hypothesis God has yet to establish any law governing the behavior of bodies at impact, the necessity of this alteration in motion is not the result of any divine decree, but arises solely from the impenetrable nature of body qua body. From this it follows that the bodies themselves are (partial) efficient causes of the alteration of motion. Fontenelle concedes that from the mere fact of impenetrability, we do not perceive that any one particular redistribution of motion must result from the collision. Nevertheless, he insists, there is a necessary connection between the two bodies colliding and their undergoing some change in motion, and because this necessity is grounded in the very nature of the bodies themselves, it follows that their collision is the true efficient cause of the alteration. Fontenelle further illustrates this point by contrasting the impact laws of motion with other laws that God might have elected to establish. More specifically, Fontenelle imagines a case in which God decrees that the communication of motion between objects shall occur not by collision, but upon their approaching one another at a distance equal to the mean square of their diameters. Fontenelle contends that insofar as it brought about an alteration in motion, the occurrence of such an event would be an instance of a purely occasional cause. This is because, considered independently of God’s decree, there is no necessary connection between two bodies approaching one another at such a distance and the redistribution of motion among those bodies. Prior to issuing any decree governing the communication of motion, if God were to move two bodies, A and B, along a trajectory that brought them within a distance equal to the mean square of their diameters, he would be under no necessary constraint to alter their motions—any choice to do so would be entirely owing to his good pleasure. By contrast, were God to move A and B so as to bring about a collision: it is absolutely necessary that there occur some change or other; and the necessity of this change arises not from the will of God . . . but from the nature of the bodies and of their impenetrability, which is absolutely opposed to the continuation of the motion of A and B such as it was. (OCM XVII–1, 589; OD V–1, 191)9 The key principle to both formulations of the argument is that in contrast to a true cause, which produces its effect precisely insofar as it exists and is of such and such nature, an occasional cause is one between which and its effect there is no necessary connection (liaison naturelle). According to Fontenelle it follows that “nothing can be by its very nature the occasional cause of anything whatsoever; this can only be by institution.”10 In other words, if one holds with Malebranche that the impact of one body upon another is merely the occasional cause of their change in motion, then one is committed to the claim that there is no necessary connection between

The Problem of Causation 67 such collisions and the communication of motion. But this, Fontenelle concludes, has been shown to be false. Malebranche’s own response to the objection is disappointing. Writing anonymously in the Réfl exions sur un livre, Malebranche is content to argue that Fontenelle begs the question against the occasionalist by assuming that bodies might move of their own force, independently of God’s continuous creation (OCM XVII–1, 580; OD V–1, 174–75). However, if Malebranche underestimates the force of Fontenelle’s objection, Bayle does not. In his Réfl exions sur la lettre de l’auteur des doutes, Bayle rejects the claim that for an event to be a genuine occasional cause the decision of the agent to use it as such must be wholly arbitrary. According to Bayle: it suffices for a cause to be merely occasional that it does not produce its effect, and that it does nothing but determine some other agent to produce it, even if it is otherwise of such a nature that if the agent allows himself to be determined to produce something on this occasion, he is obliged to adapt himself to it. (OCM XVII–1, 592; OD V–1, 198) For Bayle the fact that fi nite objects are necessarily devoid of causal powers does not imply that their essences place no constraints on the divinely appointed laws of nature that govern their behavior.11 But this line of argument seems to pose a problem for the occasionalist. For if fi nite material substances are wholly devoid of causal powers, in what sense can they be said to “determine” an agent to produce some effect? Does not this power of determination threaten to undermine the occasionalist claim that all causal power is located in God? Recently, Andrew Pyle has argued that what Fontenelle’s argument shows is that “impenetrability cannot, for a strict occasionalist, be a real power residing in bodies and compelling God to act in certain ways.”12 Pyle goes on to praise Bayle for having offered the “most acute and incisive reply” to Fontenelle’s objection. According to Pyle, Bayle defends occasionalism by arguing that impenetrability is not an essential property of body qua body, but merely a contingent quality arising from an arbitrary institution of the laws of motion by God. On this reading the necessary constraints that the impenetrability of bodies places on the possible laws of motion are not owing to any innate causal power of the bodies themselves, since “what it is for bodies to be impenetrable is simply for God to have established certain rules for His continuous re-creation of bodies and the re-distribution of the modes of local motion.”13 Therefore, insofar as impenetrability necessitates a change of motion, the ground of this necessity lies not in the essence of extension, but is simply the result of divinely established laws of nature. Whatever the philosophical merits of this resolution of the difficulty, it is surely not Bayle’s. As we have seen, Bayle holds that impenetrability is an inseparable property of extended matter.14 Indeed, in Bayle’s view, there is

68

Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics

only a distinction of reason between extension and impenetrability. As he argues in his lectures on physics: it cannot happen that an extended being is really separated from divisibility, measurability, having a shape (figurato), impenetrability, etc. since all of these are really one and the same being, and consequently they are all inseparable and essential properties of matter. (OD IV, 278)15 It is for this reason that the very notion of empty space, that is, of a penetrable, immobile extension existing independently of matter, is incoherent. In Bayle’s view such an entity is impossible, since the very nature of extension—which is antecedent to the contingent laws of physics—implies impenetrability: [Our] ideas show us manifestly that extension is an entity that has parts outside of one another and is, consequently, divisible and impenetrable. By experience we know of the impenetrability of bodies; and if we look for the source and a priori reason for this, we fi nd it with the utmost clarity in the idea of extension and of the distinction of the parts of an extended being. And we can imagine no other foundation for it. (DHC “Leucippe” rem. G, 103; P 138)16 Thus, for Bayle, the impenetrability of body qua body cannot be the result of the contingent laws of nature, as Pyle suggests. But if this is so, we are back to our original question: how is Bayle able to argue that the essential nature of fi nite objects determines the agent to produce certain effects, without committing the occasionalist to the disastrous claim that these objects are possessed of real causal powers? Bayle’s response, I believe, is not that extended bodies must be stripped of their essential impenetrability, but that the necessity involved in impenetrability is not causal, but metaphysical. That is, for Bayle it is a metaphysical truth that two extended objects cannot interpenetrate, just as it is a metaphysical truth that the same object cannot simultaneously exist in two different locations.17 Unfortunately, the examples Bayle marshals in defense of this claim are not always well chosen. Thus, in arguing against Fontenelle that an object can serve as an occasional cause even if its nature places certain necessary constraints on the manner in which it is employed, Bayle instances the sounding of a horn and the ringing of a bell as occasional causes of, say, an army’s retreat or the raising of a drawbridge. His point is that such objects can serve as occasional causes despite having a nature that places certain restrictions on the manner in which an agent may make use of them (a horn, for example, must be blown in order to serve as an adequate signal for an army to retreat). The problem with such examples is that they suggest that the constraint that

The Problem of Causation 69 the nature of the objects places on their use is owing to certain causal powers of the objects—a suggestion that the occasionalist must surely resist. Bayle is on somewhat fi rmer ground when he cites motion in a plenum, which given the essential nature of body, can only occur according to certain laws of motion. He writes: When we attributed the immediate principle and real production of motion to God alone, we never claimed that he could establish any sort of law under any supposition. For it implies a contradiction that given the plenum, and that matter never exits the world [la matiere ne sortant jamais hors du monde], God should make a law according to which he will always move bodies in a straight line. (OCM XVII–1, 593; OD V–1, 200–201)18 Bayle’s point is that the nature of body qua body places certain metaphysical restrictions on the laws of nature that God can institute. For example, a body cannot exist in two places at once, nor can it exist in no place at all.19 These necessary restrictions on God’s creative powers are not owing to any putative causal powers of extended substance, but rather to the essential nature of extended matter. Similarly, for Bayle, it is a metaphysical truth that no two extended objects can simultaneously occupy the same location, and therefore every extended object is necessarily impenetrable. But, it might be objected, does this not imply that there is after all a certain innate force included in the essence of material substance? No more, Bayle would say, than the restriction that no law of nature can require the same body to move in two different directions at once is owing to an innate causal power of material bodies. To see this, consider a proposed law of nature according to which the collision of two bodies always results in the smaller body being moved in the same direction and at the same velocity as the body by which it is struck. If per impossibile God were to create a world with exactly two material objects of unequal size moving in a vacuum, there would be no inherent difficulty in his choosing to establish such a law governing their motion. But if we now imagine a world in which there are three bodies, A, B, and C, of ascending size, it would be a contradiction for God to decree the aforementioned law. For if A were to be simultaneously struck from different directions by B and C, body A would be lawfully obligated to move simultaneously along two different paths. But this is impossible, and therefore the proposed law of nature cannot obtain in such a world. But this impossibility, Bayle would say, is owing not to any putative causal power inherent in the three bodies, but to the metaphysical truth that it is impossible that the numerically same body should occupy two different places simultaneously. 20 Bayle’s argument then is that the substantial essences of fi nite objects may partially “determine” God’s choice of the laws of nature that govern them,

70 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics but that these necessary constraints are of a metaphysical rather than a causal order. 21 Although he reconstructs the argument somewhat differently than Pyle, Thomas Lennon also underscores the force of Fontenelle’s critique. 22 Lennon argues that the requirement that there be a necessary connection between cause and effect ultimately precludes occasional causes from having any essential nature whatsoever, since these essences will be necessarily connected with certain outcomes, and to that extent they will be (under suitable circumstances) real causes. Lennon acknowledges Bayle’s suggestion that impenetrability is not a real cause because it does not produce anything, but merely imposes restrictions on the manner in which God can act upon material bodies should he choose to do so. However, Lennon questions the adequacy of this line of argument, observing that: what Fontenelle’s argument fi nally comes to is that occasionalism is incompatible with essential properties of any sort, because to the extent that a thing has essential properties and ceteris paribus conditions can be met, it enters into necessary connections that limit God’s action, perhaps to a single possibility, and thus qualify it as a cause of what God produces. (Lennon 1980, 820) Does this way of understanding Fontenelle’s objection vitiate Bayle’s reply as I have reconstructed it? I am not convinced that it does. What Lennon’s reading helps to bring out is that Fontenelle’s criticism requires the premise that if there is a necessary connection between two events, A and B, then the occurrence of one is at least a partial (real) cause of the occurrence of the other. It is precisely this premise that Bayle rejects. Bayle’s contention is that not every necessary connection is best thought of as a causal connection, even if it constrains God’s choice of the laws of nature governing the universe. Notice that as I have reconstructed it, the Argument from Necessary Connection requires only the premise: 1. Event A is a real cause of event B only if there is a necessary connection between the occurrence of A and the occurrence of B. By attacking the converse of this principle, Fontenelle implicitly ascribes to Malebranche the stronger thesis: 2. Event A is a real cause of event B if and only if there is a necessary connection between the occurrence of A and the occurrence of B. Whether Malebranche accepted this form of the Necessary Connection Principle is a question I cannot hope to settle here. However, if he did accept it, then this is one place where Bayle is prepared to part company with him.23

The Problem of Causation 71 THE QUOD NESCIS ARGUMENT A second argument to be found in Malebranche turns on the claim that nothing can do what it does not know how to do (quod necsis quomodo fi at, id non facis). More specifically, the argument lays down as a necessary condition of genuine causal efficacy that the cause have adequate knowledge of both its effect and the means by which that effect is to be produced. Although the Quod Nescis Argument seems to have been of secondary importance to Malebranche, it is arguably Bayle’s principal argument in favor of occasionalism.24 In Malebranche the principle is most clearly applied to alleged cases of causal efficacy of human volitions. Thus, taking as an example the case of willing to raise his arm, Malebranche observes: I deny that my will is the true cause of my arm’s movement, of my mind’s ideas, and of other things accompanying my volitions, for I see no relation whatever between such different things. I even see clearly that there can be no relation between the volition I have to move my arm and the agitation of the animal spirits, i.e., of certain tiny bodies whose motion and figure I do not know and which choose certain nerve canals from a million others I do not know in order to cause in me the motion I desire through an infinity of movements I do not desire. (OCM III, 225–26; LO 669)25 As stated, the argument rests on a theory of sighted agency according to which individual acts of volition require an idea to supply the content of the volition: “my will, which is unable to act or will without knowledge, presupposes my ideas” (OCM III, 225; LO 669). 26 Now because my mind lacks detailed knowledge of the physiological process that is the immediate physical cause of the raising of my arm, it is claimed that my will cannot be the real cause of my arm being raised. If we then add the claim that fi nite minds are causes only insofar as they will a particular effect, we have an argument to the effect that the mind is not a genuine cause of motion in the body. Malebranche goes on to apply a similar line of reasoning to rule out the mind being a real cause of its own ideas. Beyond this, it is unclear to what extent Malebranche is prepared to invoke the argument as a general consideration in favor of occasionalism, rather than as an argument against the real causal efficacy of the volitional acts of finite agents. 27 However, there is no such ambiguity in Bayle, who willingly applies the criterion of causal agency embodied in the Quod Nescis Argument to all kinds of efficient cause, be they mental or physical. 28 The inefficacy of fi nite bodies, which lack intentionality and volition, follows immediately. Needless to say, the result is an argument of dubious merit insofar as it imposes conditions governing agent causation on causal interactions of all kinds. Further, whereas Malebranche underscores the invincible ignorance of the human mind concerning the means of carrying out what it wills, Bayle’s

72 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics own emphasis is somewhat different. This is particularly true in the case of physical causation, where Bayle’s formulation of the argument rests on a consideration concerning the order and lawful regularity that characterize the operations of the natural world. For him it is principally the inability of insentient physical objects to conform to divinely decreed laws that rules out the causal efficacy of fi nite objects. 29 Such laws of nature are expressed by a certain propositional content. Now since corporeal objects can know neither the laws by which they are governed nor whether their present circumstances satisfy the antecedent conditions, they cannot themselves be the executors of these divine decrees: Moving bodies communicate now more, now less of their motion with the bodies they encounter. They communicate more if the impacting body is larger, and less if it is smaller. Consequently, this communication is the result of [fluere] a cause that knows perfectly the ratio of the size of the impacted body to the size of the moving body. But no corporeal cause is of this kind. Therefore, bodies are not the cause of motion that they appear to communicate to others. (OD IV, 139–40)30 Nor can it be said that the laws themselves are causally responsible for the behavior of bodies, if these laws are understood as something other than the efficacious will of God. Laws of nature themselves have no causal efficacy independent of their executor. Thus, for Bayle, although we may cite a law such as the conservation of momentum as part of a causal explanation of, say, the continued motion of a projectile, taken by itself such a law provides no account of the metaphysics of causation. If you say that the motion of a projectile continues by virtue of a natural law according to which bodies to the extent that they are able [quantum in se est] always remain in the same state, by this very reply you have recourse to God as immediately moving the thrown body, [since] natural laws have no other efficacy than that of the agent who executes them, and that agent cannot be a body. . . . Therefore it is God himself. (OD IV, 140)31 Indeed so fi rmly rooted in Bayle’s mind is the quod nescis principle, that he freely ascribes it to others. Witness his review of Robert Boyle’s De ipsa Natura in the Nouvelles de la République des Lettres. Bayle writes: there are some who by Nature mean nothing else than the power to execute what God decrees. Thus, the nature of fi re would only be a certain law that God has imposed on it. The author [Boyle] correctly observes that this is a figurative and improper way of speaking, and he offers this proof among others that a body knows nothing, and consequently it cannot receive an order, nor prepare to execute it, nor apply

The Problem of Causation 73 its power [vertu] in conformity with it. This argument is demonstrative against those who believe that bodies have received from God the power of self-motion. (OD I, 706a)32 Bayle and Boyle agree that the insentience of corporeal substances renders them incapable of executing a law of nature conceived on the model of the decrees of a lawgiver. Both draw the consequence that one speaks “figuratively” in claiming that God prescribed a certain law that is executed by nature. Yet arguably for Boyle it is the conception of the nomological regularities governing the physical universe as laws decreed by God that must be understood as a simple metaphor, whereas Bayle concludes that material objects cannot move themselves! Perhaps it is best to think of Bayle’s formulation of the argument as based on a consideration concerning the status of laws of nature on the one hand and the essence of matter on the other. I have argued that an apparent implication of the res extensa account of matter is that the essence of matter does not fully determine the lawful behavior of material substances. If the behavior of matter in motion is to be fully determined in all circumstances, some further decision on God’s part is required. Now, if one takes seriously the idea that the laws of motion are established by divine institution and that nevertheless they are not, as it were, written into the essence of material substance as such, one might be tempted to conclude that a law of nature is simply the propositional content of a divine decree, and that to execute that decree one must have knowledge of the content itself. However that may be, it is certain that the Quod Nescis Argument plays a prominent role in Bayle’s thinking both about causation and natural theology. I shall return to this point at length in the fi nal chapter.

THE ARGUMENT FROM CONTINUOUS CREATION Bayle develops his fi nal argument for occasionalism in the course of a discussion of the problem of evil. More specifically he portrays Zoroaster, a defender of the Manichean hypothesis, as arguing ad hominem against the Christian philosophers that the doctrine of continuous creation is incompatible with the real causal agency of fi nite minds and that therefore the traditional appeal to human free will as the source of moral evil is illusory.33 Although the argument is introduced to rule out the claim that a fi nite mental substance can be a real cause of its own mental states, Bayle himself makes clear that the argument holds generally against any real causal power in fi nite, created beings.34 Although several of the early Cartesians, among them Louis de La Forge and Antoine Le Grand, attempted to draw an occasionalist conclusion from the doctrine of continuous creation, it is with Malebranche that the argument has come to be most closely associated.35 In any case it is undoubtedly

74 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics the latter who most directly influenced Bayle, so it will be helpful to consider in some detail Malebranche’s formulation of the argument. In that way we will be in a better position to assess Bayle’s alternate argumentative strategy. In a characteristic formulation, Malebranche maintains that: it is the will of God that gives existence to bodies and to all creatures, whose existence is certainly not necessary. So long as this same volition that has created them always subsists, they always exist; and when this volition ceases . . . it is necessary that bodies cease to exist. (OCM XII, 156; JS 111) Malebranche’s claim that it is “bodies” and more generally “creatures” whose existence God wills, suggests that the objects of God’s continuous creation are particular, fi nite substances. To help us get clear on the precise nature of Malebranche’s position, consider the following two theses concerning God’s causal role with respect to the created world:36 Weak Conservation (WC): For every finite substance x and time t, if x exists at t, then God is the complete and exclusive cause of x existing at t.

Strong Conservation (SC): For every fi nite substance x and time t, if x exists at t, then God is the complete and exclusive cause of x existing at t, and for every quality F, if x is F at t, then God is the complete and exclusive cause of x being F at t. Two clarifications are in order concerning these defi nitions. First, in speaking of qualities I mean to include relational as well as monadic features of substances, whatever ontological analysis the former are ultimately to be given. Second, because in a substance ontology, every contingent state of affairs ultimately consists in the possession of a collection of qualities by one or more substances, I take (SC) to express the thesis that God is the sole and complete cause of every contingent state of affairs. The theory of weak conservation expressed by (WC) is meant to capture a minimal commitment shared by all proponents of the view that God’s conservation is a continuous creation. According to it, God alone is causally responsible for the existence of every fi nite substance at every moment. By contrast, (SC) expresses an understanding of continuous creation strong enough to secure a thoroughgoing occasionalism. According to this principle, God alone is causally responsible not only for the existence of every fi nite substance, but of every quality of every substance as well. Now, given that most defenders of the doctrine of continuous creation would want to resist the suggestion that fi nite objects and their qualities are no more than occasional causes of their associated effects, one way of framing the philosophical objective of the Argument from Continuous Creation is as an

The Problem of Causation 75 attempt to invoke certain metaphysical principles that will license the move from (WC) to (SC). Consider now two ways one who subscribes to the (WC) thesis might nevertheless defend the real causal efficacy of finite material substances. First, one might insist on the distinction between the causal production of substances on the one hand and of the qualities or states of those substances on the other. Thus, one could hold that at every moment God is the complete and exclusive cause of every finite substance, while pointing out that this leaves open the possibility that a creature might be a real cause of certain qualities or states of these substances. On this view, which we might call the Division of Labor theory of continuous creation, God creates the finite substances while creatures are real causes of at least some of their qualities.37 Alternatively, a defender of the compatibility of (WC) with real secondary causes might concede that God is a complete cause not only of substances, but of all their qualities, yet insist that finite substances are themselves complete causes of one or more of those qualities. The most straightforward version of this would involve positing a causal overdetermination in the production of certain contingent states of affairs. Thus, one could hold that God and secondary, or natural, causes are each numerically distinct, complete causes of the same effect. A second more intricate version involves adopting a form of divine concurrence, according to which God and secondary causes are each total causes of a given effect, although each brings about the effect in a different manner. This concurrentist position was advanced by Aquinas, according to whom “the same effect is ascribed to a natural cause and to God, not as though part were affected by God and part by the natural agent; but the whole effect proceeds from each.”38 In what follows I shall restrict my consideration to causal overdetermination, since it comes with less philosophical (and theological) baggage, and any argument that precludes it will likewise preclude concurrence. Thus, we have two broad methods for resisting the move from (WC) to (SC). Consider now how Malebranche attempts to rule them out. In a well-known passage from the Entretiens sur la métaphysique Malebranche offers what is perhaps his fullest statement of the Argument from Continuous Creation. It begins as follows: Creation does not pass, because the conservation of creatures is—on God’s part—simply a continuous creation, a single volition subsisting and operating continuously. Now, God can neither conceive nor consequently will that a body exist nowhere, nor that it does not stand in certain relations of distance to other bodies. Thus, God cannot will that this armchair exist, and by this volition create or conserve it, without situating it here, there, or elsewhere. It is a contradiction, therefore, for one body to be able to move another. (OCM XII, 160; JS 115–16)39 Taking Malebranche’s example of the armchair, the basic strategy of the argument can be stated as follows. In order for the armchair to endure,

76 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics God must continuously sustain it in existence—at each moment he must recreate the armchair. Now, in order to bring an armchair into existence, God must place it in a determinate location—that is, with a determinate spatial relation to every other existing body. From this Malebranche concludes that the various states of motion and rest of the armchair are a simple function of its re-creation by God over successive moments. If God re-creates the armchair at the same location, it is at rest. If he re-creates it at spatially continuous locations, it is in motion.40 Malebranche’s argument would seem to have difficulty ruling out both the Division of Labor and the Overdetermination theses. Consider fi rst the Division of Labor Account. To eliminate it Malebranche must show that it is God’s volition that is causally responsible for the existence of every quality of every fi nite substance. Notice however that, as stated, Malebranche’s argument concerns only the spatial location, and by implication, the states of motion and rest of material objects. What Malebranche needs, of course, if this is to serve as a general argument for (SC), is a means of securing the broader conclusion that God is the efficient cause of (a) every state of physical substances, and of (b) every state of mental substances as well. Although not always explicit in recognizing its existence, most recent commentators have attempted to fill this logical gap by appealing to a general principle according to which God cannot create an object without at the same time endowing it with a complete set of determinate qualities. Thus, Andrew Pyle argues that “the crucial premise here is that of complete modal determinacy, i.e. that, as a matter of metaphysical necessity, the creation of a body (or a soul) requires its creation with a fully determinate set of modes.”41 On this reading the same considerations that dictate that in creating a body, God must provide it with a determinate location apply equally to every quality of every fi nite substance, be it mental or physical. As Clatterbaugh summarizes the argument: simply stated, God can create no substance without its complete complement of modalities (properties) and since God recreates each substance at each moment, God is the real cause of its modalities at each moment. Obviously, such an argument can readily be extended to all created substances. (Clatterbaugh 1999, 118) Thus, Nadler, Pyle, and Clatterbaugh each attribute to Malebranche some version of the following principle: Principle of Complete Modal Determinacy (PCM): For every substance x, quality F and time t such that x is F at t, it is God’s volition that is causally responsible for x’s being F at t. Now, to be sure, were we to add this premise to Malebranche’s argument, then the defender of the Division of Labor hypothesis would stand refuted.

The Problem of Causation 77 But no proponent of that view will accept PCM without further argument, since it amounts to little more than a bare assertion of the falsity of the Division of Labor Account.42 In light of its controversial status and its centrality to the argument as they reconstruct it, the defenders of PCM have been surprisingly cavalier in their defense of the principle. What considerations they do cite on Malebranche’s behalf seem to amount to the claim that God cannot create abstract or indeterminate objects. As Nadler puts the point: just as God cannot create/sustain a body in abstraction but only with specific and particular modes—especially spatial relations to other bodies—so must God, it would seem, create and sustain not some pure thinking substance in abstraction but a particular individual mind with its particular thoughts, its modes.43 Presumably this is meant to follow from the view—shared by philosophers in the seventeenth century—that only complete objects can exist, that is, for every existing object x, property F and time t, either x is F at t or x is not-F at t. Thus, Pyle argues that God must be causally responsible for the properties of created substance “given that a body cannot exist without a determinate set of modes.”44 Admittedly, this formulation of the argument can be found among Malebranche’s contemporaries. Thus, the Protestant theologian Isaac Jaquelot argued that in creating me at each moment, God must will each of my qualities, since every object is fully determinate. For I do not exist “as a being without form, as a species, or some other universal of Logic. I am an individual”—that is, a concrete particular being.45 Malebranche himself might be taken to argue in just this way when he maintains that God “cannot will what cannot be conceived. Thus He cannot will that this chair exist, without at the same time willing that it exist here or there and without His will placing it somewhere, since you cannot conceive of this chair existing unless it exists somewhere, either here or elsewhere” (OCM XII, 156; JS 112). However, I do not think that this is in fact Malebranche’s argument, and in any case it is clearly inadequate to establish PCM. For it is one thing to say that every existent must be fully determinate, but it is quite another to say that it follows from God’s continuous creation not only that he wills at each moment the existence of every created substance, but that for any given quality, F, of every created substance, x, it is God’s volition that x exist that brings it about that x is F or not-F. The most that would follow is that at each moment there must be some cause that determines x to be F or not-F. But this is hardly something that the Division of Labor theorist need deny. It is worth considering whether Malebranche has other resources for ruling out the Division of Labor Account of continuous creation. Malebranche sometimes suggests a second line of argument. As we have just seen, the claim that God must re-create fi nite material substances at each

78

Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics

moment does not entail that God’s volition is the cause of every state of that substance for some arbitrarily chosen moment. However, there is one case in which the inference does appear to be licensed, namely at the initial moment of creation. For at that moment there are no antecedently existing created objects that might causally contribute to the production of a substance or its qualities. Now given the plausible assumption that no finite substance can exist without any qualities whatsoever, it follows that at the fi rst moment of creation God must will the existence of each substance as well as its full compliment of qualities. Now Malebranche insists that God must create the universe at each moment, and that were he to stop willing that it exist, it would ipso facto cease to do so. Consider again Malebranche’s statement of the Continuous Creation thesis: God wills that there be a world. His will is all-powerful, and so the world is made. Let God no longer will that there be a world, and it is thereby annihilated. For the world certainly depends on the volitions of the Creator. If the world subsists, it is because God continues to will that the world exist. On the part of God, the conservation of creatures is simply their continued creation. (OCM XII, 157–58; JS 112)46 As yet we do not have an argument against the Division of Labor hypothesis. For, suppose we grant that if God were to cease to will that the universe exist, it would immediately go out of existence. By itself this does not show that at any noninitial moment God’s creative act must also be the cause of every quality of created substances. For in a substance ontology such as Malebranche’s, no quality can exist independently of the substance in which it inheres. Therefore, even if some qualities of created substance were the result of real secondary causes, it would be equally true that if God were to cease to sustain the substances in which those qualities inhere, the whole created universe would disappear. However, Malebranche goes on to suggest that what the argument is meant to show is that it is the numerically same act of will that conserves objects as that which brought them into existence at the fi rst moment of creation. Now since this divine volition is causally responsible for every state of substance at the initial moment of creation, it must likewise be productive of the states of substance at subsequent moments. Thus, he writes, “creation does not pass away because, in God, conservation and creation are one and the same volition, which consequently is necessarily followed by the same effect” (OCM XII, 157–58; JS 112).47 Unfortunately, as a response to the Division of Labor hypothesis this argument fares no better than its predecessor. For to say that if God ceased to will the existence of a substance it would ipso facto go out of existence is hardly enough to show that at each moment God sustains the world by the numerically same act of will by which he fi rst brought it into existence.48 Moreover, even if this were granted, it would still have to be argued that the volitional content of God’s

The Problem of Causation 79 creative act is not sufficiently complex to allow for a causal contribution by fi nite substances at noninitial moments of creation. As a result, Malebranche’s argument lacks the resources to rule out the Division of Labor Account. Moreover, the argument faces equal difficulties with the possibility of causal overdetermination—that is, that God and secondary, or natural, causes are each complete causes of the same effect.49 Malebranche’s most direct treatment of this issue occurs in the following passage from the Dialogues: it is a contradiction for you to be able to move your armchair. . . . The proof of this is clear. For no power, however great it be imagined, can surpass or even equal the power of God. Now it is a contradiction that God wills this armchair to exist, unless He wills it to exist somewhere and unless, by the efficacy of His will, He puts it there, conserves it there, creates it there. Hence no power can convey it to where God does not convey it, nor fi x nor stop it where God does not stop it, unless God accommodates the efficacy of His action to the inefficacious action of His creatures. (OCM XII, 160; JS 115–16) Malebranche’s strategy for excluding the possibility of causal overdetermination runs as follows. As a preliminary point, notice that, for Malebranche, God’s sole means of exercising his power is by an act of volition. Therefore, if God is the cause of some state of affairs p obtaining, then p is the result of a divine volition. 50 Now, consider some body, A, which God, as a result of his continuous creative activity, causes to exist at a determinate location at time t. In order for some other body, B, to be a real cause of motion in A, it would have to cause A to exist at some location other than the one in which God willed it exist at t. But, Malebranche asserts, for B to bring about such a change in the location of A, it would have to override a positive volition of God. Now, because God’s will is omnipotent, it cannot be contravened, and consequently no fi nite object has the power to move a body. The problem with this line of argument, as several commentators have remarked, is that if it works at all, it rules out only those cases in which the alleged natural cause conflicts with the contents of the divine volition. But the point of causal overdetermination is that God’s volition and the fi nite substance work independently to produce the same effect. Nothing in what Malebranche says here suffices to preclude that possibility.51 Malebranche also argues that given the sufficiency of God’s volitions for producing what he wills, any real causal contribution on the part of fi nite substances would be redundant. As he puts the point in the Recherche, “God needs no instruments to act; it suffices that He wills in order that a thing be, because it is a contradiction that He should will and that what He wills should not happen” (OCM II, 316; LO 450). However, Malebranche himself claims that not only must God will that a body exist in a particular location, but that it is impossible that he fail to do so, since:

80 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics it is a contradiction that God wills this armchair to exist, unless He wills it to exist somewhere and unless, by the efficacy of His will, He puts it there, conserves it there, creates it there. (OCM XII, 160; JS 116)52 Although an appeal to Occam’s Razor might lend some weight to the occasionalist thesis, it can hardly show that it is a contradiction that fi nite substances are real, independent causes of the states of motion or rest of bodies, as Malebranche repeatedly insists.53 Earlier I pointed out that Malebranche’s statement of the argument in the Dialogues privileges spatial location (and consequently motion and rest) as a quality that God must determine in creating a material substance. The question we must now ask is why does Malebranche single out this particular characteristic of body? The answer, I suggest, has to do not with any modal determinacy requirement, but the special relation between occupation of place and the essence of body qua body. To see why, consider some enduring material substance, s. We know by (WC) that God must re-create s at each moment. But what specifically must God create? In other words, what exactly is a material substance for Malebranche? The answer, of course, is that a material substance just is a fi nite portion of extension. It follows that if God is to create a material substance he must endow it with extension, or more precisely, he must create a particular, extended thing. Because for Malebranche there is no ontological distinction between a material substance and its extension, there can be no division of labor between God and other causes with respect to extension or any of its necessary properties, such as divisibility and mobility. Now, what of the accidental qualities of the substance? Consider Malebranche’s own example of spatial location. Notice that Malebranche is careful—in a way that contemporary scholars have not always been—to argue that existence in a determinate location is a necessary condition of a body’s existing. To put the point another way, the occupation of some determinate place is a necessary consequence of a body’s being a fi nite extended thing. Does it follow from this that in willing that a body exist, God must will that the extension exist in a determinate place? Malebranche maintains that it does, on the grounds that it is hard to understand how God could be said to create an extended thing without creating it in a certain location relative to other bodies. 54 However, contrary to the Pyle–Nadler reading, Malebranche does not apply the same analysis to other physical accidents. Instead, he appeals to the standard mechanist thesis that every physical state of affairs results from an alteration in the states of motion and rest of one or more physical objects.55 He writes: it is God who does everything in all things. For since I know that all the changes that occur in bodies have no other principle than the different communications of motion that take place in both visible and invisible

The Problem of Causation 81 bodies, I see that it is God who does everything, since it is His will that causes, and His wisdom that regulates, all these communications. (OCM III, 209; LO 660)56 In short, Malebranche argues that because God is the complete cause of all motion in bodies, and motion is the sole principle of change in the physical realm, it is God alone who is the true cause of every noninitial physical state of affairs.57 We are now in a position to see a fi nal limitation inherent in Malebranche’s use of continuous creation as an argument for occasionalism. Even if we grant for the sake of the argument that in creating an extended substance God must will that it exist in a determinate location, it is not at all obvious that this argument could be extended to minds. For as is well known, Malebranche maintains that we have no clear and distinct idea of the soul, so he is in no position to prove that every fi nite mental substance must have some determinate quality, which could serve as a mental analog to motion—that is, a mental property that is both necessitated by the essence of the mind as res cogitans, and which is solely responsible for the production of all other mental states. This, I suggest, explains an otherwise puzzling omission on Malebranche’s part, namely, his failure to apply the Argument from Continuous Creation to the case of fi nite minds. As Nadler himself observes, “Oddly, Malebranche does not extend the ‘divine sustenance’ argument to the case of minds in this way. It is, however, a natural and, indeed, compulsory extension of the argument.”58 However, if I am right, there is good reason why Malebranche never applies the argument to the case of mental substances and their states. Quite simply, he recognizes that he is in no position to do so.59

BAYLE ON CONTINUOUS CREATION It is here that Bayle has a contribution to make to the debate.60 As I have already indicated, the context in which Bayle develops his version of the argument concerns the possibility of absolving God of responsibility for the presence of moral and physical evil in the world. That Bayle develops the argument in response to the freewill theodicy helps to explain two salient features of his discussion. First, unlike Descartes and Malebranche, Bayle is not concerned with providing a purely philosophical argument for the doctrine of continuous creation itself.61 Rather, his aim is to establish the incompatibility of that doctrine with human freedom of indifference. Second, unlike Malebranche who consistently explicates his version of the argument by appeal to bodies in motion, Bayle’s principal aim is to demonstrate that no fi nite mental substance can be a real cause of its own modifications (OD III, 785a). Bayle’s initial sketch of the argument occurs in the article “Pauliciens.” He writes:

82 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics according to the ideas we have of a created being, we cannot comprehend at all that it can be an originating source of action; that it can move itself; and that, while receiving its existence and that of its faculties every moment of its duration, while receiving it, I say, entirely from another cause, it should create in itself any modalities by virtue of something that belongs exclusively to itself. (DHC “Pauliciens” rem. F, 628a; P 180) According to Bayle, it is the modern doctrine that accidents are modes that are not really distinct from the substance to which they belong that clinches the argument against the real efficacy of secondary causes (OD IV, 43). For he goes on to argue that the states of a fi nite mental substance are either distinct from the substance of the soul, or they are not. If they are distinct, then they are created ex nihilo. But, Bayle maintains, it is agreed on all hands that no fi nite being has the power to create, and therefore no created mind can be the cause of its own mental states. If, on the other hand, accidents are not distinct from the substance to which they belong—that is, if as the Cartesians hold, they are mere modifications—they can only be produced by the same cause that produces the substance itself. Now it is obvious that no fi nite mental substance is the cause of its own existence. As a result no fi nite created mind can be the cause of its own mental states. However, despite Bayle’s suggestion that occasionalism is a straightforward implication of continuous creation together with the Cartesian conception of accidental qualities as modes, when he spells out the argument more fully in the second part of the Réponse aux questions d’un provincial (1705), it turns out to be interestingly more complex. Indeed, Bayle there offers two distinct arguments for (SC), only one of which is based on the Cartesian ontology of substance. Bayle’s development of both arguments occurs in the course of a debate with the rationalist theologian Isaac Jaquelot. In response to Bayle’s ad hominem argument against the Christian philosophers, Jaquelot had suggested that continuous creation might be rendered compatible with the mind’s producing some of its own accidental states as follows. At each moment God creates a mental substance along with its active faculties. Furthermore, God brings these faculties into existence in the act of producing their effects. Thus, while God is causally responsible for sustaining the substance and its faculties in existence at each moment, the mind’s faculties themselves are real causes of some of its states. Bayle rejects this account, arguing that if it is granted that no creature can be productive in the fi rst moment of creation, it must be conceded that it is equally passive in subsequent moments. Commenting on Jaquelot’s suggestion, Bayle observes: You see that with respect to the fi rst instant [Jaquelot] assigns all activity to the Creator, and he leaves creatures with nothing but the character of passive being. Now, they have as much need of being created at

The Problem of Causation 83 the second moment as at the fi rst, since their conservation is a continuous creation. Therefore, he should say that they are as much passive beings at the second moment as at the fi rst. (OD III, 788a)62 At fi rst glance this looks like nothing more than a version of the problematic argument based on the numerical identity of God’s creative volition that we discussed in connection with Malebranche. That is, Bayle appears to be arguing that because God must be the complete and sole cause of the existence of every being at the initial moment of creation, it is the numerically same volition that gives being to creatures at each subsequent moment, and therefore God must be the complete cause of the existence of creatures at every moment. However, closer inspection reveals that the appeal to the initial moment of creation is a heuristic device whose role in the argument is not indispensable. To understand Bayle’s argument, consider any arbitrary moment in the duration of some mental substance. The doctrine of continuous creation stipulates that the substance must be created by God at that moment. According to Bayle, the mental substance cannot be a cause at that moment of either itself or its own states, and therefore it is God who must create each of its qualities or modes along with the substance itself. Bayle justifies this claim by appeal to the Scholastic principle that action follows existence (operari sequitur esse).63 From this he infers that a created substance cannot concur in its own conservation, since “what conserves itself, acts. Now, what acts, exists, and nothing can act before having its complete existence. So, if a creature were to conserve itself, it would act prior to existing.”64 Of course, the doctrine of continuous creation entails that a creature must be re-created at each moment of its existence. But the same reasoning we applied to our arbitrarily chosen moment applies equally to every moment of the creature’s duration. Therefore, at no moment can a created substance be the real cause of itself or any of its qualities.65 As stated, the argument needs to be developed in two directions. First, it applies only to immanent or self-causation. More important, it fails to rule out fi nite causation across time. That is, one might object that even if a created substance cannot concur with God to produce any states of itself at the very moment it is created, why could it not act as a real efficient cause of its accidents at some subsequent moment? The answer, I believe, is that Bayle holds that every complete cause must be simultaneous with its effect. Although he never fully develops the point in his works for publication, Bayle does explicitly reject the view that it is a necessary condition of causation that a cause be temporally prior to its effect. He writes: it is certain that the cause does not contain within its idea a priority of time with respect to the effect, and that is especially true with respect to an omnipotent cause, which has only to will to produce everything that it wills. (DHC “Zabarella” rem. H, 530b)66

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Here Bayle is most likely following Descartes, who in a well-known passage from the First Replies denied that a cause must be temporally prior to its effect, observing that “the natural light does not establish that the concept of an efficient cause requires that it be prior in time to its effect.” Descartes went on to affi rm that on the contrary, “the concept of a cause is, strictly speaking, applicable only for as long as the cause is producing its effect, and so it is not prior to it” (AT VII, 108; CSM II, 78). Unfortunately, in the “Zabarella” passage Bayle is silent concerning Descartes’s positive thesis that a genuine efficient cause must be simultaneous with its effect. However, that this is in fact Bayle’s view is confi rmed by a remarkable passage from the lectures on metaphysics. There Bayle argues: Do not say that a creature at instant B acts so as to conserve itself at instant C, for that is physically impossible. . . . it can produce no material action [actionem physicam] unless it is for the present moment. For example, no one can produce today the local motion by which he will be actually walking tomorrow. (OD IV, 478)67 Thus, Bayle’s fi rst argument for (SC) consists of two stages, each of which is based on a distinct causal principle. First, no creature can be a complete or even partial cause of its own existence at a given moment, since acting presupposes existence. But neither can a created substance be a real cause of its existence or accidents at some subsequent moment, since every effect must be simultaneous with its cause. Commenting on this argument in the Theodicée, Leibniz takes issue with the first stage. Leibniz concedes that it cannot be said that at a single instant God first creates a substance with its active faculties, after which those faculties produce some accidental state of the substance, and this for the obvious reason that it would imply that one could distinguish an earlier and later within an indivisible moment. Nevertheless, Leibniz insists that there is a logical (rather than a temporal) priority between the creation of a substance with its powers and the exercise of those powers, and that this priority of reason leaves room for real causal efficacy of finite substances. He writes: let us suppose that a creature is newly produced at each moment; and let us grant that, being indivisible, an instant excludes all priority of time. But notice that it does not exclude a priority of nature, or what is called in signo rationis, and that that suffices. The production, or action by which God produces, is prior in nature to the existence of the creature that is produced. Considered in itself with its nature and necessary properties, the creature is prior to its affections and actions. And yet all of these things are to be found in the same moment. (G VI, 345–46)68 Thus, within a single instant of creation Leibniz distinguishes (a) God’s production of a finite substance with all of its essential properties and powers

The Problem of Causation 85 and (b) the exercise of those powers to produce at least some of the accidental qualities of the substance. He further maintains that the former is logically or conceptually prior to the latter. Yet Leibniz’s reply is inadequate insofar as it fails to address Bayle’s claim that an object must have its complete being before acting. According to Bayle, if God were to create only a substance with its active faculties, the substance could not act because “nothing can act before having its complete existence.” In other words, Bayle denies what Leibniz here insists upon, namely, the conceptual coherence of an incomplete object acting as a true efficient cause.69 Unfortunately, Bayle himself offers no real defense of the principle, contenting himself with qualifying it as “one of the first principles of metaphysics” (OD III, 788).70 The result is something of a stalemate with each side affi rming his own position more or less without supporting argument. It is at this point that Bayle offers an alternate defense of the fi rst stage of his argument—a defense based on the Cartesian doctrine that modes are not truly distinct from their substance. According to Bayle, it follows from this that their production can only be owing to an act of creation. More specifically, Bayle appeals to the Cartesian attempt to eliminate real powers or faculties of substances. He writes: one could not maintain that there is a real distinction between the substance of minds [esprits], their faculties, and the acts of those faculties without admitting inconceivable absurdities. Spiritual substance, its faculty of thinking, [and] the thought that it has at each moment are only one thing. . . . Thus, the creative act that brings about the substance of minds and their capacity for thought necessarily brings about their actual thought. It would be a contradiction that of three really identical things, God creates two and does not create the third. (OD III, 789a)71 Bayle rejects a real distinction between the faculties of a substance and the acts of those faculties.72 This extreme nominalism supplies the missing premise to the Argument from Continuous Creation. For if the faculties of a substance are not distinct from its acts, and both are merely modifications, which are not ontologically distinct from the substance to which they belong, then in creating a substance with, say, the faculty of volition God must create the volitions themselves. Now, since the same reasoning applies to every mode of fi nite substance, we have a general argument against the Division of Labor hypothesis. What of the possibility of causal overdetermination or divine concurrence? The crucial premise of this stage of the argument is that fi nite entities lack the power of creation. As Bayle puts the point, “only an infi nite power [vertu] can create” (OD III, 789a).73 Bayle extends this principle to both ontological categories of entity. Least controversially, he asserts

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that fi nite objects cannot create substances. However, Bayle also uses the creative impotence of finite substances to rule out their being real causes of qualities or states of substance. Since again on the modern view, modes are nothing distinct from substances to which they belong, fi nite objects cannot be real efficient causes of any modification, because to do so would be to be either a partial or complete cause of the creation of a substance. Thus, Bayle contends that by appeal to the Cartesian ontology of substance, we can supply the missing premise to the Argument from Continuous Creation, thereby establishing (SC). It is worth emphasizing that Bayle’s insistence that fi nite objects do not have the power of creation is more than a bit of Christian piety. In Bayle’s eyes it constitutes one of the most formidable criticisms that the moderns have leveled against the Scholastic doctrine of substantial forms. Time and again Bayle insists upon the absurdity of the Scholastic position according to which eduction of forms involves the production of a new form that did not previously exist in the substance, but that nevertheless is not a creation ex nihilo.74 In summary, we earlier distinguished two problems for Malebranche’s Argument from Continuous Creation. First, why in creating a substance must God’s volition also be the exclusive cause of every quality of that substance? Second, why could not fi nite objects concur with God in producing some accidents either in themselves or in some other fi nite substances? Bayle’s answer to the fi rst question is that the doctrine of continuous creation implies that at every moment God creates every substance. Now in order to do this, he must create the essence, or principal attribute of the substance, because it is not ontologically distinct from the substance itself. Further, he must also create every accident of the substance, since an accident is ontologically speaking nothing more than that substance existing in a certain manner. Bayle’s answer to the second question is that fi nite substances cannot be even a partial cause of a thing’s being created. Now since modes are not ontologically distinct from their substances, it follows that production of a mode requires the production of a substance. Therefore, created objects cannot be real causes of any accidental qualities. Bayle’s version of the Argument from Continuous Creation turns on a particularly strong claim about the ontological reducibility of accidents. This may stem from a broader issue concerning the status of relations in both Bayle and Malebranche. Consider the case of material substance. Bayle holds that accidents are not really distinct from the substance to which they belong. In his lectures on metaphysics, he illustrates this claim with the example of location, conceived as local presence. According to Bayle, changes in location occur without the moving thing gaining or losing any intrinsic quality (aliquod intrinsecum). Thus, for example, if someone approaches me while I am stationary, I become locally present to that person without any change in my or her intrinsic qualities (OD IV, 498). Similarly, Bayle maintains that ubication and shape are not really distinct from

The Problem of Causation 87 the body to which they belong, since even God cannot bring it about that a fi nite body exists without a determinate location or figure. From this Bayle infers that every body has location essentially. Likewise, if motion is taken to be merely a change of location over time, it requires no new entity in the moving body. However, there is an ambiguity in Bayle’s argument that a body’s ubication, or the state of occupying a place, is not really distinct from the body itself. Bayle maintains that this must be so because even God cannot bring it about that a body exist and yet literally be nowhere. Because Bayle adopts the Cartesian criterion that two things are really distinct if each is capable of existing without the other, Bayle seems entitled to conclude that no body is really distinct from its ubication. But surely, we are inclined to say, there must be some ontological ground of the body’s occupation of this determinate place rather than that one.75 The problem is that Bayle begins with the plausible claim that changes in my spatial relations do not result in any intrinsic modification in me. Yet from this he attempts to conclude that all contingent states of affairs are made true by nothing other than the objects themselves. This is not implausible in the case of internal relations, which by defi nition are such that they cannot fail to obtain given the nature of the relata. Thus, one might reasonably hold that the relation ‘being darker than’ obtains between scarlet and pink merely by virtue of the intrinsic natures of those colors. However, this is more problematic in the case of external relations. For it is far from clear that a relation such as “being ten feet removed from” obtains solely by virtue of the intrinsic properties of the related objects. In this sense, Bayle’s comparison of distance to resemblance is highly significant. Because resemblance is typically taken to be an internal relation, Bayle’s comparison suggests an assimilation of external relations to internal ones. Bayle writes: It is certain that distance does not superadd any entity to the distant thing, [just as] resemblance does not add anything to the resembling thing. For Peter in himself [per se ipsum], and without any acquired being, resembles John with respect to human nature. (OD IV, 498)76 This willingness to treat in like manner the ontology of external and internal relations is abetted by the tendency of both Bayle and Malebranche to consider relations as nonentities. Consider the case of Malebranche. Although he nowhere offers a detailed ontological analysis of the category of relations, what little he does say suggests that for him relations are quite simply nothing. That this is so can be seen from his discussion of the relation of equality. He writes: We do not claim, as does Saint Augustine, that we see God in seeing truths, but in seeing ideas of these truths—for the ideas are real, whereas the equality between ideas, which is the truth, is nothing real.

88

Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics When we say, for example, that the cloth we are measuring is three ells long, the cloth and the ells are real. But the equality between them is not a real being—it is only a relation found between the three ells and the cloth. When we say that twice two is four, the ideas of the numbers are real, but the equality between them is only a relation. (OCM I, 444; LO 234)

This suggests a tension at the heart of Bayle’s Cartesian metaphysics of matter. On the one hand, spatial relations are constitutive of the determinate qualities of bodies. On the other hand, they are treated as not really distinct from the material substances they relate. In this sense the Cartesian ontology of substance literally tries to get something—indeed, a great deal—for nothing. It is this extreme reductionism about modes that Bayle’s version of the Argument from Continuous Creation attempts to turn to its advantage.

OCCASIONALISM AND HUMAN FREEDOM Although Bayle nowhere engages in an extended discussion of human free will, he does offer isolated remarks both in the Dictionnaire and other works. According to Bayle, reason is at a standstill concerning the question of human free will. Bayle typically distinguishes the freedom of indifference, that is, the power to perform or not to perform a certain action, from the freedom of spontaneity, or the freedom to perform what one wills. It is this latter conception of freedom that was championed by Luther and Calvin as the sole freedom enjoyed by postlapsarian humans. In Bayle’s view the claim that human freedom is limited to freedom of spontaneity is supported by the stronger metaphysical arguments, whereas the ascription to humans of freedom of indifference finds its greatest support in the theological and ethical consequences of the opposing view.77 Although when speaking in propria persona Bayle deliberately refrains from arguing that metaphysical considerations are decisive against freedom of indifference, he does claim that on balance these arguments tell against freedom of indifference. It is only the demands of morality and theology that provide positive considerations in favor of human free will.78 Typical of this point of view is Bayle’s judgment of Jaquelot’s arguments for freedom of indifference in human beings. Bayle writes: He [Jaquelot] argues in opposition to Spinoza for the freedom of the creator based on that which we experience in our soul. However, it is certain that our experience of freedom is not a good reason to believe that we are free, and I have yet to see anyone who has proved that it is possible that a created spirit is the efficient cause of its volitions. All the best arguments that are put forth are that without it man would

The Problem of Causation 89 not sin and God would be the author of evil thoughts as well as good ones. That is fi ne when speaking from one Christian to another, but in a debate with the impious, one ends up begging the question. (Bayle to l’Abbé du Bois, December 13, 1696; OD IV, 726)79 However, in his fi nal work Bayle cautions that he never asserted absolutely that the soul cannot be the efficient cause of its volitions.80 Much of Bayle’s discussion of free will is a critical reflection on the views of Malebranche. Malebranche had conceded that we cannot arrive at knowledge of our freedom through simple contemplation of the essence of the human mind. For our cognition of the soul is based not on a clear and distinct idea—as in the case of body—but rather on the confused perception of inner sense (sentiment interieur). Nevertheless, Malebranche insisted that the introspective awareness afforded by inner sense is sufficient to secure knowledge of the soul’s freedom, conceived as the “noninvincibility” of our desire for particular objects. For Malebranche, just as I have conscious awareness of the pain that I suffer, so too, “I have an inner sensation that I am not invincibly lead to [porter à] the love of particular goods. Therefore, I know that I am free to love them or not to love them.”81 It is this ability to consent or not to consent to our desire for particular goods that Malebranche terms freedom.82 As we have seen in Chapter 2, Bayle was sympathetic to Malebranche’s contention that we have no clear and distinct idea of the soul. Moreover, Bayle agrees with Malebranche that our limited knowledge of the soul’s essence affords no secure basis for a demonstration of the soul’s freedom. However, just as Bayle questioned Malebranche’s assertion that despite our lack of a clear and distinct idea of the soul, we are still in a position to prove its immortality, so he also contests the validity of any proof of human freedom based on introspective awareness. Bayle’s most detailed discussion of the argument from inner sense occurs in the Réponse aux questions d’un provincial in the context of a dispute with Isaac Jaquelot. Developing a line of argument he likely found in Spinoza, Bayle maintains that such appeals to introspection prove nothing since they amount to no more than an argument from ignorance.83 To illustrate this point Bayle observes that if there were a systematic causal connection between each of the soul’s modifications, including its acts of volition, and particular states of the brain, the deliverances of inner sense would be indistinguishable from what we experience in our present situation. In such a case we would have precisely the same introspective awareness of our deliberations, hesitations, and volitions, despite their having been brought about by the physical states to which they are lawfully connected. Indeed, since the physical states that cause our volitions could simultaneously produce in us a certain feeling of satisfaction, “we could sometimes sense that these volitions are infi nitely pleasing to us, and that they lead us in the direction of our deepest inclinations. We would not feel any constraint”

90 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics (OD III, 786a).84 Bayle concedes that inner sensation provides adequate grounds for our taking ourselves to be free in the sense of acting voluntarily and without constraint (OD III, 791a). But this would be true even if God were the sole cause of our volitions. What Bayle denies is that inner sensation affords a proof of freedom of indifference. Inner sense offers awareness of our volitions, but cannot inform us whether those volitions are produced by the undetermined power of the agent to whom they belong or whether they are the result of certain physiological states to which they are lawfully connected. Additionally, Bayle develops a second objection to the argument from inner sense, based on the doctrine of continuous creation. He writes: I clearly and distinctly sense that I exist, nevertheless I am not the source of my existence. Therefore, although I clearly and distinctly sense that I do this or that, it does not follow that I do it through myself. Notice that we do not discern whether we exist through ourselves by the clear and precise sensation we have of our existence. . . . We do not sense the creative action that conserves us. . . . Let us also say that the clear and precise sensation that we have of our acts of will cannot make us discern whether we give them to ourselves, or whether we receive them from the same cause that gives us existence. (OD III, 785b)85 Bayle’s critique is rather subtle. According to the occasionalist understanding of continuous creation, God is the sole and complete cause not only of our existence, but of all of our various perceptual states. Now, it is by virtue of inner sense that we are aware of our mental states, and consequently of our existence itself. However, inner sense provides no conscious awareness of God’s causal conservation of the mind and its various sensations and perceptions. Indeed, in Éclaircissement XV Malebranche himself sought to account for our commonsense belief that it is our desire to think about something coupled with a mental effort to do so that is causally responsible for the appearance of the corresponding idea in our minds by arguing that “God and His operations contain nothing sensible” and that therefore our lack of awareness of God’s causal efficacy is no argument against occasionalism.86 For Bayle, it follows by parity of reasoning that my lack of introspective awareness of any external cause of my volitions and acts of consent fails to establish that such acts are not completely determined at every moment by a divine act of conservation. From this Bayle concludes that inner sense provides no epistemic justification of the belief in human freedom. Such knowledge, if possible at all, can be had only by metaphysical argument. However, the difficulty that occasionalism poses for our conception of ourselves as free agents goes far beyond our inability to secure a compelling proof of our freedom of indifference. For the thesis that God is the sole efficient cause of every contingent state of affairs seems to preclude

The Problem of Causation 91 freedom of indifference in any fi nite, created agent. For Bayle, the inescapable conclusion of the arguments for occasionalism is that no fi nite substance, be it body or mind, is the efficient cause of any of its modalities. But if this is correct, then human beings cannot possess freedom of indifference, which in turn undermines moral responsibility of fi nite agents and threatens to make God the author of sin. If Bayle’s early writings clearly evince the unmistakable appeal that the metaphysical arguments for occasionalism held for him, they also reveal his keen awareness of these moral and theological difficulties.87 Already in his review of Pierre de Villemandy’s Traité de l’effi cace des causes secondes in the Nouvelles de la République des Lettres, Bayle had observed that: no one will doubt that [Villemandy] forcefully attacked the author of the Recherche de la Vérité concerning the power [Malebranche] ascribes to souls to settle [arrêter sur] the motion that God imparts towards the good in general on a particular object. This is the sole subject of embarrassment in the system of occasional causes. For if one could grant that the human soul is in no way the efficient cause of its volitions, it would be smooth sailing in every direction. But religion necessarily obliges us to say that the soul is the real cause of its volitions, and after that one can indeed prove that body is in no way the efficient cause of motion, but not that it is impossible for God to give it this power. (OD I, 623b)88 At times Bayle portrays Malebranche as excluding human volitions from the general thesis that all effects have God as their sole and complete efficient cause. Thus Bayle cautions Isaac Jaquelot, who had raised similar objections to occasionalism: “I can tell you in passing that a Malebranchian would scarcely be troubled by these objections. He closed the door on the principal objection by granting activity to created minds with respect to morally good or bad volitions.”89 However, Bayle treats this exception as an ad hoc concession made to the demands of Christian orthodoxy that undermines the validity of Malebranche’s general arguments for occasionalism. Of course, Malebranche himself did attempt to reconcile occasionalism with human freedom. In fact, his strategy shows clear signs of evolution, although there is some disagreement among commentators as to whether the various presentations of his views amount to different and incompatible theories of human freedom.90 Malebranche’s general account involves a distinction between two kinds of movement of the will. First, there is a continuous movement toward the good in general, which Malebranche equates with a general desire for happiness. This movement, which is continuously impressed upon our souls by God, is said by Malebranche to be “invincible,” that is, human beings have no freedom to desire other than to be happy. Second, there is the movement toward particular objects conceived as goods. These desires for particular goods are determinations

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of the movement of the will toward the good in general, and Malebranche insists that in at least some cases they are free. Although he sometimes suggests that the soul has the power to direct the desire for the good in general toward particular objects, beginning with Éclaircissement I Malebranche locates the soul’s freedom in its ability to “stop at” a particular good or to “continue on” toward others. On this view sin results not from the desire for particular goods per se, but from the decision to rest content with these goods rather than to continue on toward God, who is the supreme good. According to Malebranche as soon as the understanding receives the idea or sensation of a particular good, the motion toward the good in general is determined by that perception, and a desire for the particular object results. Now because God is the true cause of both the motion toward the general good and of our ideas and sensations, God is the sole and complete cause of our desires even for particular goods. What then is the role of the sinner? According to Malebranche, it is that the sinner does precisely nothing. “He stops, he rests, he does not follow God’s impression—he does nothing” (OCM III, 19; LO 548). In other words, it is in the passive acquiescence in our desires for particular goods that sin consists. It is this theory, which has been dubbed the “consent as rest defense,” that Bayle most closely associates with Malebranche.91 After arguing that no human being has the power to create new mental states within himself, Bayle remarks that there are some philosophers who contend that “the motion that pushes one comes from outside oneself [lui vienne d’ailleurs], but that, nonetheless, one can stop it and fi x it upon a particular object.” To which Bayle curtly replies: “This is contradictory, since it does not require any less force to stop something moving than to move something at rest” (DHC “Pauliciens” rem. F, 628a; P 180). It might be objected that Bayle here takes literally what Malebranche specifically treats as a metaphorical explanation of human volition.92 Bayle’s point is that insofar as consenting to or withholding consent from a desire is a mental act, it is a modification of the soul. Now, since occasionalism rules out all real efficacious activity on the part of created minds, it is God alone who must be causally responsible for the production of all of our mental acts, including those by which we give or withhold consent. Malebranche’s fi nal exposition of his account of human freedom, to be found in both the defi nitive edition of the Éclaircissements (1712) and the Réfl exions sur la prémotion physique (1715), is an attempt to respond to just this sort of objection. There Malebranche continues to assert that human freedom extends only to the ability to consent to or withhold consent from our desires for particular goods. However, he insists that these free acts of consent are not real or positive modifi cations of the soul, in that they have no “material reality [réalité physic].”93 As a result they do not require a real efficient cause.94 In this way Malebranche attempts to reconcile the claim that God creates every substance

The Problem of Causation 93 along with its full complement of modes with the claim that the human mind is the undetermined source of its own free acts of granting or withholding consent. Although published some six years after his death, there can be little doubt of Bayle’s fundamental hostility to any solution along the lines of Malebranche’s fi nal account of human freedom. Throughout his career Bayle consistently rejected the view that sin has no positive reality.95 As early as 1679 Bayle criticized Poiret’s attempt to reconcile thoroughgoing occasionalism with human responsibility for sin by appeal to the claim that sin is a mere privation and thus requires no efficient cause.96 Like Malebranche, Poiret had maintained that “everything real in our mind comes from God,” but that God is not responsible for sin, because sin has no positive reality.97 To this account Bayle objects that if sin is a pure nothing, “how can it be known? Why seek a cause of it? Does nothingness have properties, a cause, a concept?”98 Further, if sin has no positive reality, it cannot be caused by a human agent, since nothingness has no cause. On the other hand, if sin involves a change of state in the mind of the sinner, then “this state is not a pure nothing. Therefore, it requires a positive cause.”99 But this would imply that the human mind has the power to produce real modifications in itself, which the occasionalist must deny. Doubtless Bayle would have advanced a similar line of argument against the theory of human freedom articulated in the Réfl exions sur la prémotion physique. For consenting to a desire is a different state than withholding consent. Thus, it is difficult to see how this difference is owing entirely to a free act of consent that has no “material reality.”100

CONCLUSION As is often the case in Bayle, the occasionalist account of causation poses an acute dilemma for human reason. Attending strictly to metaphysical considerations, one is inevitably led to conclude that God alone is a real efficient cause. The difficulty begins when we consider the moral and theological implications of the view. The confl ict is clearly expressed in one of Bayle’s fi nal works, the Continuation des pensées diverses. After rehearsing several arguments in favor of occasionalism, Bayle declares that he is “convinced that just as it is only God who can move bodies, so too it is only God who can communicate ideas to our soul.”101 Yet, he goes on to observe: If you were to reply that the Cartesian doctrine leads us to believe that [God] is also the cause of our acts of will, I would reply in turn that I will not enter into this mystery. It is a noli me tangere. . . . Philosophy cannot begin to understand this matter; we must humbly have recourse to the light of revelation. (OD III, 342b)102

94 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics Human reason is unable to reconcile the philosophical account of causation with either our conception of ourselves as moral agents or our idea of God as a supremely perfect being. It is this confl ict that explains the increasing tepidity with which Bayle speaks of occasionalism toward the end of his life. Nevertheless, Bayle remained convinced of the superiority of occasionalism to rival accounts of causation, and in particular to the preestablished harmony advanced by Leibniz. It is to Bayle’s criticism of this latter that I now turn.

5

Leibniz and the Preestablished Harmony

If Malebranche’s system lay at the center of Bayle’s philosophical thought, the influence of Leibniz was never more than peripheral. Nevertheless, intellectual relations between the two, which began in the 1680s and ended shortly before Bayle’s death, proved remarkably fruitful. This is particularly true in the case of Leibniz, for whom Bayle served as a welcome critic as well as a conduit by which his views were made available to a wider, French-speaking audience. It was, for example, under Bayle’s editorship of the Nouvelles de la République des Lettres that Leibniz published in 1686 his Démonstration courte d’une erreur considerable de M. Descartes.1 The appearance of this article, with its criticism of the Cartesian law of conservation of motion, initiated a debate with Catelan and seems to have exerted some influence on Malebranche’s account of the laws of motion. The period between Bayle’s departure from the NRL in 1687 and the publication of the Dictionnaire in 1696 saw little, if any, direct correspondence between the two. However, Leibniz did, through the mediation of their mutual friend Basnage de Beauval, solicit Bayle’s opinion of the Animadversiones in partem generalem principiorum cartesianorum (Critical Thoughts on the General Part of the Principles of Descartes), a criticism of Descartes’s Principles of Philosophy, which Leibniz was privately circulating. 2 Bayle’s brief reply, in which he characteristically defends the Cartesian account of matter as res extensa was communicated to Leibniz by Basnage.3 Leibniz also took an active interest in Bayle’s writings during this period, drafting a set of remarks on the Projet et fragmens d’un Dictionnaire Critique in which Leibniz offers a number of suggestions for improving the utility of the Dictionnaire as originally conceived.4 However, it was the publication of the Dictionnaire itself that occasioned Leibniz’s two most important and substantive exchanges with Bayle. Of these, the best known concerned Bayle’s notorious insistence on the irreconcilability of Christian theology with the fact of moral and physical evil. It was owing in no small measure to Bayle’s forceful restatement of the traditional problem of evil that Leibniz was prompted to compose his Essais de Théodicée. Indeed, much of the Théodicée consists in a virtual point-by-point refutation of the anti-rationalist arguments advanced

96 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics by Bayle in the Dictionnaire and subsequent works. The second debate, and the one that will be my central focus, concerned Leibniz’s theory of preestablished harmony.5 In June 1695, Leibniz published the Système nouveau de la nature et de la communication des substances, aussi bien que de l’union qu’il y a entre l’ame et le corps in which he offers an account of the nature of mental substance and its relation to the body. Historically, publication of the Système nouveau was a pivotal event in Leibniz’s philosophical career. Because his most important early works remained unpublished until after his death, it was largely through the Système nouveau that the public, and Bayle himself, became acquainted with Leibniz’s mature metaphysical thought. In a discussion of the dispute over animal mechanism in the fi rst edition of the Dictionnaire, Bayle published a lengthy extract from the Système nouveau, accompanied by several critical remarks. Following a response by Leibniz, Bayle offered a fuller statement of his objections in the second edition of the Dictionnaire to which Leibniz again replied. Receiving no response, Leibniz attempted to pursue the discussion through private correspondence. However, his efforts to engage Bayle in further debate proved largely unavailing, and their correspondence seems to have come to an end.6 In this chapter I shall examine Bayle’s objections to the theory of substance and causation put forward in the Système nouveau. Bayle’s discussion is of interest not only for the clarifications it elicited from Leibniz, but also because his confrontation with the preestablished harmony brings together many of the issues we have been examining in the preceding chapters. However, before turning to the specifics of the debate, it is well to recollect briefly the details of Leibniz’s metaphysics as presented in the Système nouveau.

METAPHYSICS IN THE SYSTÈME NOUVEAU In assessing contemporary reactions to the philosophy of Leibniz, the modern commentator inevitably confronts a familiar yet still pressing difficulty. Because Leibniz published comparatively little during his lifetime, almost invariably his correspondents were operating with a less than adequate grasp of both the details of his system and the deeper principles that lay behind it. The problem is compounded by Leibniz’s tendency to conceal certain features of his views depending upon the philosophical and theological outlook of his expected audience. Because my principal interest is in what the exchange with Leibniz reveals about Bayle’s own metaphysics, I shall largely confi ne my attention to those sources available to Bayle himself. In addition to the Système nouveau itself, Bayle was certainly familiar with the criticisms of Simon Foucher as well as Leibniz’s published response, both of which appeared in the Journal des savans (G IV, 487–90, 493–98). Bayle had also read Leibniz’s letter to Henri Basnage de Beauval

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as published in the Histoire des ouvrages des savans.7 Additionally, Bayle cites François Lamy’s discussion of the preestablished harmony in the second edition of De la conoissance de soi-même (1699), although there is no evidence of Bayle’s having read Leibniz’s replies, which were published only after Bayle’s death. Bayle was also aware of De Ipsa natura (G IV, 504–16), a reply to Johann Christopher Sturm’s Physica electiva, the latter of which Bayle seems to have known only through a review of the work that appeared in the Journal de Leipsic. In addition to these texts to which he explicitly refers, it is exceedingly likely that Bayle would have known of Leibniz’s Extrait d’une lettre de M.D.L. sur son hypothese de philosophie (G IV, 500–503) as well as Tournemine’s reflections on the Système nouveau, which appeared in the Mémoires de Trévoux in 1703 (WF 247–49). Finally, Bayle was certainly familiar with Leibniz’s “Considerations sur les principes de vie, et sur les natures plastiques,” which was written in response to the debate concerning plastic natures that arose between Bayle and Jean Le Clerc (G VI, 539–46).8 As is well known, the development of Leibniz’s metaphysics is generally thought of as occurring in three broad stages. The early period, which extends from the time of Leibniz’s initial forays into philosophy in the mid1660s through the late 1670s, saw the formulation of many of his characteristic philosophical principles.9 The middle period is dominated by the Discours de métaphysique and the subsequent correspondence with Arnauld. The fi nal stage, which is generally agreed to have begun in the early 1690s, issued in the defi nitive statement of Leibniz’s theory of substance in the Monadologie and the Principes de la Nature et de la Grâce. In terms of its metaphysical concerns and commitments, the Système nouveau is generally thought to announce the beginning of the late period.10 Leibniz’s chief aim in the Système nouveau is to set forth a theory of finite substances and their causal activities, and it is his account of substantial causation that serves as the central focus of Bayle’s critical remarks. However, because Leibniz explicitly portrays the theory of preestablished harmony as a consequence of his general account of substance, we would do well to begin with a brief examination of the latter. On this issue, the Système nouveau exhibits both similarities and discontinuities with Leibniz’s earlier metaphysics. At the heart of his account lies the traditional concept of substance as ens per se, that is, an enduring subject of properties that itself exists independently of any subject of inherence. However, Leibniz enriches this basic account in at least three ways. First, a substance must be a true unity or unum per se, since for Leibniz every composite entity (ens per accidens) ultimately owes its being or reality to the individual entities of which it is comprised. To put the point somewhat differently, a being by aggregation is merely a mode of the individual beings of which it is composed. Now because Leibniz maintains that it is impossible for an aggregate being to consist entirely of component beings that are themselves aggregates and so on to infi nity, the existence

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of a composite being presupposes the existence of beings that are true unities. Only such a unum per se is capable of independent existence, and so it alone is a substance.11 The second manner in which Leibniz extends the traditional concept of substance is through the requirement that substances be spontaneous principles of action. For this purpose it is not sufficient that a substance possess an inherent force or activity. Rather, it must be causally self-sufficient— that is, it must be the complete cause of all of its successive properties or states. This requirement issues from Leibniz’s contention that substances are not merely the ultimate subjects of predication but also the ultimate explanatory principles.12 It follows from this that a property or state can truly be said to belong to an individual substance only if that substance is the complete reason for the existence of the property or state. But, of course, if a substance contains within itself the complete explanation of the existence of some property, that substance must be the complete cause of the property. As a result, every substance is the complete cause of each of its properties or states.13 The account of substance that emerges is of an entity whose nature consists in a spontaneous, active force that continuously acts provided that nothing impedes or obstructs it. This force is what Leibniz refers to as entelechy. Although he sometimes uses the term interchangeably with substance, when speaking more accurately, Leibniz makes clear that an entelechy is best thought of as the form of substance. Because this entelechy must be the complete cause of every property the substance will possess throughout its existence, it can be conceived as acting in accordance with a “law of the series,” an internal law that determines the precise sequence of states with which the substance will modify itself throughout its duration. Further, it follows from Leibniz’s identification of this law with the essence of substance, together with his commitment to the identity of indiscernibles that this internal law must be unique to each substance. In this sense the law of the series can be thought of as playing roughly the same role in the metaphysics of the Système nouveau as the complete concept played in the Discours de métaphysique. So far I have discussed Leibniz’s general account of substance. However, in addition to unity and causal self-sufficiency, all mental substances have the additional feature of being essentially representative entities. More specifically, every perception or state of a mental substance represents a corresponding physical state of the body to which it is united. As Leibniz puts the point: these internal perceptions in the soul itself must arise from its own original constitution, that is to say from its representational nature (its ability to express external things which are in relation with its organs), which it has had since its creation, and which constitutes its individual character. (G IV, 484; WF 18)

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The correspondence of mental and physical states obtains because God has established a perfect synchronization between soul and body, such that, for example, at the very instant that the body is pricked with a pin, the mind modifies itself with a sensation of pain. In a well-known analogy, Leibniz compares the synchronized activity of body and soul to two clocks so accurately constructed that, although they do not causally affect one another, nevertheless always report precisely the same time (G IV, 498–500). However, for Leibniz the representative nature of the soul goes far beyond the states of the body with which it is causally coordinated. For as the sequel of the previous passage makes clear, the soul represents, in a certain manner and from the perspective of its body, every event that occurs in the external world. He writes: each of these substances accurately represents the whole universe in its own way and from a particular point of view, and . . . its perceptions or expressions of external things occur in the soul at just the right time in virtue of its own laws, as in a world apart, as if there existed nothing but God and that soul. (G IV, 484; WF 18) Thus, for Leibniz, the internal rule, or law of the series, of a substance is so constituted that the mind’s perceptions represent not only every occurrence in its body, but indeed every event in the universe. With this brief account of the metaphysics of the Système nouveau in hand, let us turn to the central issues raised by Bayle’s critical remarks.

LEIBNIZ AND OCCASIONALISM One common reaction to the system of preestablished harmony among Leibniz’s contemporaries was to judge it not essentially different from occasionalism. Arnauld, for example, suggested that at bottom the theory of preestablished harmony amounts to “the same thing” as occasionalism, an assertion echoed by Foucher and Lamy among others.14 This helps to explain why Leibniz’s discussions of causation from our period invariably feature an attempt to distinguish his own view from occasionalism, especially of the Malebranchean variety. Typically, this strategy is deployed as part of a larger argument from elimination on behalf of preestablished harmony—an argument that occupies a central place in the Système nouveau. According to Leibniz, there are only three possible accounts of the apparent causal interaction of created substances: the way of influence, according to which fi nite substances are capable of producing direct causal effects upon one another, the way of assistance, or occasionalism, and Leibniz’s own preestablished harmony.15 On some occasions Leibniz is not averse to acknowledging the occasionalists’ contributions to our understanding of causation. In the Système

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nouveau in particular Leibniz goes so far as to praise the occasionalists for having “gone a long way . . . in telling us what cannot be the case” (G IV, 483; WF 17).16 However, care must be taken in interpreting this qualified endorsement. Leibniz’s concession cannot be an acceptance of the negative thesis of occasionalism, namely, that no fi nite created substance is a real cause of change, since Leibniz is committed to the view that all fi nite substances are real, imminent causes of their own states. In fact, Leibniz is here crediting the occasionalists with having established the more limited claim that intersubstantial causation between created substances is impossible. In other words, Leibniz takes the occasionalists to have shown the impossibility of the so-called way of influence. Although he rejects the claim that God alone is a real cause of every contingent state of affairs, Leibniz does not likewise consider the occasionalist account of causation to be logically or metaphysically impossible. He concedes that there is a sense in which God could have produced a world consisting of fi nite entities that are wholly devoid of real causal efficacy, and whose successive changes from state to state are the direct result of divine volition.17 However, Leibniz maintains that such a world would require God to act in a manner contrary to his supreme wisdom and so is to be rejected as morally impossible. Leibniz raises a number of objections to occasionalism, several of which fi nd place in the texts with which Bayle was directly acquainted.18 Of these it is the argument that occasionalism involves a perpetual miracle that occupies a central place in the Système nouveau. There Leibniz insists: to solve problems it is not enough to make use of a general cause and to introduce what is called a deus ex machina. For to do this, without giving any other explanation drawn from the order of secondary causes, is really to have recourse to a miracle. (G IV, 483; WF 17) In his fi rst edition comments, Bayle rejects this criticism on the grounds that God’s ordinary causal activity is lawfully governed. According to Bayle: it cannot be said that the theory of occasional causes requires that the action of God occur miraculously, deus ex machina, in the reciprocal dependence of soul and body. For as God intervenes there only according to general laws, it is not a question of acting extraordinarily. (DHC “Rorarius” rem. H, 83a; P 238)19 In response Leibniz acknowledges the lawlike regularity of God’s ordinary concourse but maintains that this alone does not suffice to establish that natural events are governed by laws of nature, since any event that exceeds the power of created entities is properly speaking a miracle. Thus, citing the occasionalist view that God acts in accordance with general laws, Leibniz writes:

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I agree that he does, but in my view that isn’t enough to remove miracles. Even if God produced them all the time, they would still be miracles, if the word is understood not in the popular sense, as a rare and marvellous thing, but philosophically, as something which exceeds the power of created things. It isn’t sufficient to say that God has made a general law, for in addition to the decree there has also to be a natural way of carrying it out. It is necessary, that is, that what happens should be explicable in terms of the God-given nature of things. (G IV, 520; WF 82) In the second edition of the Dictionnaire Bayle allows that because preestablished harmony puts to rest any concern regarding perpetual miracles, he would prefer it to occasionalism if he “could conceive some possibility” in it (DHC “Rorarius” rem. L, 85b; P 245). However, he cautions that this concession should not be read as a reversal of his earlier position. Bayle goes on to propose that the dispute concerning miraculous activity be set aside in the interest of paring the debate down to its essentials—a dialectical maneuver that Thomas Lennon has characterized as “outrageous.”20 Apparently, taking his cue from Bayle, Leibniz elects not to pursue the issue further. The question before us, then, is why does Bayle feel entitled to lay aside what is arguably Leibniz’s principal objection to occasionalism? More generally, why is Bayle unmoved by any of Leibniz’s several criticisms of occasionalism? Superficially, the disagreement between Leibniz and the occasionalists concerns the proper defi nition of a miracle and, correlatively, of a law of nature. For Bayle, as for Malebranche, the laws governing the natural order are founded on a decision by God to bring about change in a certain uniform manner. On their view, a law of nature is simply a divine decree to the effect that whenever an event of type A occurs, an event of type B shall occur (OD IV, 138–40; OD IV, 323). A miracle, then, is an act of God that stands as an exception to the nomological regularities that ordinarily govern his causal activity in the natural world. Given this, Leibniz’s charge that for the occasionalists a miracle amounts to nothing more than a “rare and wonderful” event is surely more rhetorical than philosophical, since considered in itself the regularity conception of laws of nature carries no implication for the frequency with which the kinds of events governed by those laws should occur. However, as several commentators have remarked, Leibniz’s deeper complaint concerns the relation of these laws to the natures of created beings. Rutherford in particular has convincingly argued that Leibniz’s charge of perpetual miracles rests on his insistence that in the order of nature every event must be explicable solely in terms of the natures of fi nite objects. Thus, as Leibniz tells Bayle, all that happens “should be explicable in terms of the God-given nature of things” (G IV, 520; WF 82). For Leibniz, then, a miracle is an event that cannot be explained in terms of the nature of created substance. On this reading, it

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is Leibniz’s commitment to the rational intelligibility of the created world, which is in turn required by God’s wisdom, that motivates Leibniz’s claim that occasionalism involves a perpetual miracle.21 It is precisely this attempt to ground the laws of nature in the essences of created substances that Bayle rejects. According to him, “that a certain thing should occur by miracle or according to the laws of nature does not establish a lesser or greater agreement (convenientiam) with the essence of creatures.”22 As we saw in Chapter 3, Bayle distinguishes those qualities that are necessarily implied by the substantial essence of a thing (in the case of material substance, its nature as res extensa) from those that result from its specific nature (i.e., from its being, say, a mouse or a stone). The former, insofar as they follow from the essence of matter qua matter, are antecedent to the laws of nature. Because these essences are absolutely inviolable even by God himself, the distinction between lawful and miraculous events cannot be drawn at the level of substantial essence. By contrast, the qualities that constitute a thing’s specific essence take their rise from the laws of nature that God has freely instituted. Thus, although God is free to suspend or otherwise violate these specific essences, his decision to do so is not ipso facto a miracle. Rather, a miracle is a suspension of the laws of nature that give rise to these essences. In sum, for Leibniz a miracle is an event that cannot be explained in terms of the nature of created substance, whereas for Bayle, as for the occasionalists, a miracle is a violation of the laws of nature that give rise to the specific natures of substances. At a deeper level, then, the disagreement between Bayle and Leibniz turns on their competing accounts of the relation between laws of nature on the one hand and the essences or natures of fi nite substance on the other. As a result, it may seem that the differences separating Leibniz from the occasionalists are too deep and the common ground too meager to afford any constructive dialogue on the issue. However, Leibniz does offer two further considerations against the Cartesian position in the texts under discussion. In neither case does Bayle take up the argument explicitly, so of necessity our discussion will be somewhat speculative. First, Leibniz takes issue with the occasionalist conception of a law of nature on the grounds that “natural laws are not as arbitrary and groundless [indifferentes] as many think” (G IV, 520; WF 82). 23 Nicholas Jolley has argued that taken as a criticism of Malebranche the objection fails, since for Malebranche the laws of nature are far from arbitrary insofar as God must always act in a manner that is consonant with his supreme wisdom.24 But it is difficult to believe that this does full justice to Leibniz, since even the most passing familiarity with the Traité de la nature et de la grâce makes manifest this crucial element of Malebranche’s theodicy, and Leibniz could hardly have been unaware of it. 25 Perhaps a better way of understanding Leibniz’s complaint is that the requirement that God must always act in the manner most worthy of his wisdom implies not only that God’s actions must exhibit certain formal characteristics, such as

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simplicity and fecundity, but also that their content must respect certain rational principles. Indeed, it is something very like this consideration that Leibniz presses against Malebranche in the Nouvelles de la République des Lettres. Malebranche had conceded that the laws of communication of motion championed by Leibniz were possible, since according to Malebranche the laws of nature are “arbitrary and depend on the will of the creator” (NRL, April 1687, 449). In reply, Leibniz maintains that genuine laws of nature are not arbitrary in that they must conform to the principle that “when the difference between two cases can be diminished beyond any given quantity, in datis, or in what is posited, it must also be capable of being diminished beyond any given quantity, in quaesitis, or in what results from it.”26 Although the principle is said by Leibniz to be logically necessary in the realm of mathematics, its necessity in physics is not absolute, but results from the supreme wisdom that characterizes God’s actions. This, I suggest, is a more plausible way to read Leibniz’s later charge of arbitrariness. Unfortunately, so understood, the objection is not a general argument against the occasionalist account of laws of nature. At best what it shows is that some occasionalists held mistaken views about which laws actually govern the physical realm. And Bayle is quite happy to concede that several of the laws of motion propounded by the Cartesians stand in need of revision (cf. OD IV, 137–38). At other times Leibniz suggests that what the laws of nature must respect if they are not to be considered arbitrary are the natures of those things governed by the laws. Leibniz illustrates this point with the assertion that if God had willed that motion should occur in circles with radii that vary as a function of the size of the body, the result would not be a law of nature, but a miracle, provided that the motion could not be explained in terms of simpler laws (G IV, 520–21). 27 However, understood in this way, Leibniz’s objection amounts to no more than a reassertion of his earlier claim that events in the natural order must be fully explicable in terms of the natures of created substance, and therefore adduces no additional consideration in favor of that view. Thus, on neither reading does Leibniz’s charge of arbitrariness provide independent reason for rejecting occasionalism. Leibniz offers a second argument against occasionalism based on his requirement that substances must be spontaneous principles of action. According to Leibniz, insofar as occasionalism refuses real causal agency to fi nite created entities, it denies them the ontological independence that is characteristic of substance. As a result, created beings are reduced to mere modifications of the divine substance that sustains them in existence. In short, occasionalism threatens to collapse into Spinozistic monism. As Leibniz puts the point in De Ipsa Natura: [occasionalism] is so far from increasing the glory of God by removing the idol of nature that, quite the contrary, it seems with Spinoza to make of God the very nature of things, while created things disappear

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To criticize the occasionalists for failing to include active force in the nature or essence of created entities presupposes that the causal inertness of creatures that characterizes the occasionalist position could be avoided by a more judicious choice of substantial essence. This thought might be encouraged by the Cartesian account of matter as res extensa, which more than one of Descartes’s successors attempted to use as the basis for an argument against real causal powers in material substance. 29 However that may be, Bayle himself makes little use of this rather crude argument for occasionalism. The reason is that for Bayle the ultimate source of matter’s inefficacy lies not in its substantial essence, but in its status as a created being. As I argued in the previous chapter, Bayle holds that the doctrine of continuous creation is incompatible with real causal agency of created beings.30 Consequently, whatever attribute one identifies as the essence of matter, it cannot confer any real causal power on material substances. In fact, Bayle makes precisely this point in his brief response to Leibniz’s Animadversiones. Bayle’s reply as transmitted by Basnage runs as follows: The difficulty that M. Leibniz has developed against the Cartesians’ system concerning the essence of matter struck me as very beautiful and worthy of a mind as acute and mathematical as his. However, I am not at all convinced that the essence of body should be placed in an attribute other than extension, because it seems to me that every other attribute would be as difficult to reconcile with the resistance that bodies offer to one another as is extension. For I cannot understand that body can have within itself and as something internal or intrinsic, a certain force [effort] for remaining in a certain place. Therefore, this force must originate in a principle external to the body. (Basnage to Leibniz, undated; G III, 92)31 To be sure, in the article “Rorarius” Bayle chooses not to press the objection that God cannot confer upon fi nite substances the power of self-motion on the grounds that the discussion should be limited to those difficulties that bear uniquely on Leibniz’s theory. As Bayle explains: I will not set forth the difficulties that oppose the supposition that a creature could receive from God the power of moving itself. These difficulties are great and almost insurmountable; but Leibniz’s theory is no more open to attack on this score than is that of the Peripatetics; and I do not know whether the Cartesians would dare to assert that God cannot communicate to our soul the power of acting. If they assert

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this, then how can they declare that Adam sinned? And if they do not dare assert it, they weaken the arguments by which they want to prove that matter is not susceptible of any sort of activity. (DHC “Rorarius” rem. L, 85b; P 246–47) Here, as in the previous text, Bayle only alludes to the doctrine of continuous creation without openly identifying it as the source of his rejection of real causal powers in created substance. However, there is evidence that Bayle had raised the difficulty more explicitly in private correspondence. Responding to a letter from Bayle that has not survived, Leibniz again takes issue with the claim that created substances cannot be real causal agents, arguing that such a position, if true, would rob them of their substantiality. Leibniz writes: I would like to understand more distinctly why created substance could not have such a force, for I believe that without that it would not be a substance. In my opinion the nature of substance consists in this regulated tendency from which phenomena are born in order, and which it received at the outset, and which is conserved in it by the author of things from whom realities or perfections emanate by a kind of continual creation. (Leibniz to Bayle, undated; G III, 58)32 Thus, Bayle’s principle reason for rejecting Leibniz’s criticism is that on Bayle’s view no created entity can be endowed with real causal power and this is not so much a consequence of the Cartesians’ particular account of substantial essences, but rather a general difficulty for all who maintain that God’s conservation is a continuous creation. To this point we have granted for the sake of the argument Leibniz’s criterion of substantiality according to which only entities with real causal powers are substances. But, in fact, Bayle does not grant it. As we shall see in Chapter 6, Bayle endorses the traditional account of substance as ens per se, understood narrowly as that which exists without any subject of inhesion. Therefore, if Leibniz’s criterion of substance as “a force for acting and being acted upon” is to be regarded as something other than purely stipulative, he needs some argument for the claim that the metaphysical role traditionally ascribed to substance can be fi lled only by a being with intrinsic causal power (G IV, 508; AG 159). Unfortunately, in those texts within Bayle’s ken, Leibniz tends to raise the specter of Spinozism without fully justifying the criterion of substance that underlies the objection. As a result, the deeper motivations for their divergent accounts of substance went largely unexplored. However, Leibniz does offer one interesting consideration in De Ipsa Natura. Leibniz argues that if bodies lack an intrinsic force they will be “robbed of discriminability.” More specifically, Leibniz maintains that at each moment a body must contain a force or nisus that determines its future location, for if this were not the case, there would

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be no basis for distinguishing bodies in the plenum. Nor could motion be appealed to as a criterion of synchronic difference, since at any given moment a “body A in motion would differ not at all from a body B that is at rest” (G IV, 513; AG 163). In short, if there were no intrinsic force in bodies we would be left with no criterion of synchronic difference and so at every moment, there would be only a homogenous plenum. Like Leibniz, Bayle rejects the notion that the distinction of parts in the extended plenum is a result of motion. In Bayle’s view even if the plenum were quiescent, there would still be a real distinction among its parts. This is made clear in his discussion of the theory of matter put forward by Anaxagoras, who rejected the existence of a vacuum in rerum natura.33 Bayle renounces any objection to Anaxagoras’s system based upon the necessity of motion for the individuation of parts, observing: I do not object to [Anaxagoras] that he recognized a difference between the parts of matter before they were moved. This objection has always struck me as very weak. I conceive very clearly that division presupposes distinction, and that an iron stake lodged in a piece of wood and perfectly at rest with respect to the wood which is also perfectly at rest, is as different from the wood as if it and the wood were in motion. (DHC “Anaxagoras” rem. G, 214a)34 For Bayle, the distinction of parts in the extended plenum is antecedent to motion, since motion presupposes the distinctness of parts.35 Still, Leibniz’s objection remains. If the parts of a plenum cannot be distinguished by motion on what grounds would matter be other than a homogenous plenum? Although Bayle nowhere addresses the question in detail, it would seem that for Bayle there need be no qualitative difference among material substances in order to distinguish them, since he maintains that the principle of individuation is being itself. As Bayle puts the point in the Systema, “we believe that each thing can be individuated by its own being, as is obvious in the case of spirits.”36 If this is correct, Bayle is in a position to reject Leibniz’s claim that without intrinsic force, bodies would be indistinguishable at each moment, since it is their being itself that serves to distinguish them from one another.37

BAYLE AND THE PREESTABLISHED HARMONY Leibniz’s chief concern in the Système nouveau is to advance a theory of the relation of mind and body, so it is natural that Bayle’s objections should take issue with Leibniz’s account of the soul and its relation to the body. Bayle’s first objection draws out what he takes to be the implications of the preestablished harmony for the physical realm, and more particularly for the explanation of physical human behavior. Taking the example of Julius Caesar, Bayle writes:

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[I]t must be said that the body of Julius Caesar exercised its moving faculty in such a way that from his birth to his death it went through a continual series of changes that corresponded exactly to the continual changes of a certain soul that it did not know and that made no impression on it. It must be said that the rule according to which that faculty of Caesar’s body was to produce its acts was such that he would go to the senate on such and such a day, at such and such a time, that he would there pronounce such and such words, and so on, even if it had pleased God to annihilate Caesar’s soul the day after it was created . . . Can a blind force modify itself so exactly as the result of an impression communicated thirty or forty years earlier, and which has not been renewed since, and which force is abandoned to itself without ever knowing what it has to do? (DHC “Rorarius” rem. L, ii, 85b; P 247) Thomas Lennon has dubbed this the “a priori implausibility argument,” and indeed it would appear to be little more than a simple expression of disbelief that a purely physical automaton might be capable of spontaneously producing the full range of human behavior.38 It is not hard to sympathize with Leibniz’s rather impatient reply that it is not the part of a philosopher to base an objection on the marvelousness of a system (G IV, 557). Doubtless, part of Bayle’s concern is the threat of solipsism. Bayle, who seems to have been unable to convince himself of the tenability of the theory of animal automata despite its clear theological advantages, emphasizes that not even the Cartesians were willing to say that such distinctive human behaviors as language use could be the result of a purely physical mechanism.39 The worry, of course, is that by reducing the human body to a mere corporeal mechanism, one must renounce Descartes’s arguments for the conclusion that human behavior requires an immaterial, rational soul as a principle of explanation. It is this worry that motivates Bayle’s observation that in Leibniz’s view even if the soul of Caesar were to be annihilated, his body would continue to engage in the same linguistic behaviors and to act in pursuit of the same ends.40 Bayle’s insistence that the behavior of Caesar’s body can be explained only by appeal to intentional mental states helps to explain his rather surprising claim that the nature of matter qua matter is such that even God could not fashion purely physical automata capable of producing the effects that Leibniz’s system requires. Bayle writes: the nature of things does not permit the faculties communicated to creatures to exist without certain necessary limitations. The actions of creatures must necessarily be proportioned to their essential state and be performed in accordance with the character belonging to each machine, according to the axiom of the philosophers—whatever is received is proportional to the capacity of the subject. (DHC “Rorarius” rem. L, iv, 86a; P 248–49)

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Ultimately, however, the dispute concerning the possibility of animal (and human) automata amounts to little more than an exchange of conflicting intuitions and needn’t detain us further.41 More substantively, Leibniz holds that the psychophysical laws of nature on which the way of influence and occasionalism jointly rest must be rejected in that they involve a constant disruption (dérangement) of the internal laws of substances. As Leibniz puts the point: instead of saying with [the occasionalists] that God has made for himself a law always to produce changes in one substance in conformity with those in another, which disrupts [troublent] their natural laws at every moment, I say that God gave each one of them from the outset a nature whose own laws produce these changes. (Leibniz to Basnage, late 1695?; G III, 122; WF 65)42 In what sense do occasionalists allow the “disruption” of natural laws? The crux of Leibniz’s argument appears to be that occasionalism allows for physical events, say the raising of my arm, that occur by virtue of a causal chain initiated solely by a mental event.43 Leibniz had leveled a similar charge against Descartes, whom he portrayed as denying that the mind can impart motion to bodies, while insisting nevertheless that it can alter their direction. Leibniz rejects this allegedly Cartesian solution, since “neither the one nor the other can nor ought to occur” (G IV, 559). For Leibniz both cases violate the principle that every physical event must have a sufficient cause that is itself physical. In short, Leibniz criticizes occasionalism for violating the causal closure of the physical realm.44 However, as we shall see in the fi nal chapter, Bayle does not believe that the physical realm is causally closed in either sense. On Bayle’s view, the laws of mechanism alone are insufficient to account for all physical phenomena. And this is arguably true not only in the case of the overt physical behavior of rational agents, but also for the formation of animal bodies and even the motion of the planets. For this reason Bayle takes it to be a virtue of occasionalism that it makes provision for the lawful intervention of minds in the physical realm, without which numerous physical phenomena are not fully explicable. Bayle’s second argument concerns the interaction of mind and body proper. Exploiting Leibniz’s claim that the soul spontaneously produces each of its successive states “as if there existed nothing but God and it” (G IV, 484), Bayle contends that Leibniz commits himself to the view that the soul would experience the same sequence of perceptions even if the body with which it is associated were to be annihilated. Bayle writes: I cannot comprehend the chain of internal and spontaneous actions that would make a dog’s soul feel pain immediately after having felt joy, even though this soul were the only entity in the universe. I understand why

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a dog passes immediately from pleasure to pain when, being very hungry and eating some bread, he is suddenly beaten with a stick. But that his soul be constructed so that at the instant he is hit, he feels pain and would so even though he were not hit and even though he continued eating bread without trouble and without being stopped—this is what I cannot understand. (DHC “Rorarius” rem. H, 83a; P 238) Initially, Leibniz attempts to waive the objection on the grounds that it constitutes a supposition per impossibile. However, it is far from clear that Leibniz is in a position to reject the scenario imagined by Bayle as metaphysically impossible. For this reason perhaps Leibniz concedes that there is a sense in which the supposition is possible, allowing that “God could give each substance its own phenomena, independent of all others” (G IV, 519; WF 81).45 However, he questions whether the competing accounts of the correlation of mind and body are genuinely more intelligible than his own, arguing that “neither does M. Bayle understand how the stick affects [influe sur] the soul, nor the manner in which the miraculous operation by which God continually harmonizes [accord] the soul and body occurs” (G IV, 532).46 However, Leibniz’s response evades the question. Bayle seems to have two worries here, neither of which involve doubts about the relative intelligibility of immanent causation of the kind posited by the preestablished harmony. Bayle’s fi rst point concerns the status of counterfactuals in Leibniz’s system.47 By conceding that the series of states with which a mind is affected would be unaltered even if its associated body did not exist, Leibniz’s theory discards the seeming indispensability of certain physical events for the occurrence of certain mental ones (and vice versa). In the present case Bayle takes it to be part of the explanandum not only that if the body is struck, the mind will experience pain, but equally that if the body is not stuck, then all else being equal, the mind will not experience pain. On this score Bayle sees a clear advantage for occasionalism in that, like the way of influence, it preserves our ordinary intuitions concerning causal relations—even if such relations prove to be merely occasional. It is in this sense that Bayle claims to “understand why a dog passes immediately from pleasure to pain” when struck by its master. Bayle’s second point takes issue with the internal law governing the spontaneous production of the successive mental states of the soul. Bayle argues that the internal law of the soul cannot have the propositional content that Leibniz’s system requires. Consider again the dog that while experiencing pleasure is struck by a stick and subsequently feels pain. On Leibniz’s view the soul, following its internal law of the series, must spontaneously modify itself with a sensation of pain. Drawing a comparison with a lone Epicurean atom traveling unhindered through empty space, Bayle argues that just as the absence of internal mechanism and external impediment entails that the atom will never deviate from its current path,

110 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics similarly an immaterial soul that is both lacking in internal complexity and causally isolated from the external world would never experience a change of perception. He writes: If the fi rst thought that it gives itself is a feeling of pleasure, then why is not the second one also this? For when the total cause of an effect remains the same, the effect cannot change. . . . If you answer me that [the soul] ought to be in a state of change . . . I reply to you that its change would be like the change of the atom . . . [and it would] give itself a new thought like its preceding one. (DHC “Rorarius” rem. L, 86b; P 250–51) Bayle’s argument is not simply that the law of the series that governs the soul’s activity is unintelligible insofar as there is no rational explanation why the soul, which is a simple, immaterial substance, should pass from a state of pleasure to a sensation of pain.48 His claim is that certain metaphysical principles, whose truth Leibniz does not contest, are inconsistent with the internal law of the series that must characterize fi nite substances if the observed phenomena are to be explained. In other words, Bayle’s argument is that the laws of the series posited by preestablished harmony are arbitrary in precisely the sense in which Leibniz complained to Malebranche of the arbitrariness of occasionalist laws of nature: namely, that they violate certain higher order principles that any law governing the natural world must respect. Chief among these is that “a thing always remains in the state it is in, if nothing happens that makes it change” (DHC “Rorarius” rem. L, 86a; P 238).49 Bayle maintains that this principle is violated in Leibniz’s system, since the internal law of the dog’s soul would require it to pass from a state of pleasure to a state of pain, even if it were alone in the created universe, and hence even if the total cause of its perceptual states were to remain unchanged. Of course, Leibniz would deny that the total cause would remain the same, since at every moment the state of the soul includes a multiplicity of perceptions, each involving appetition—that is, a tendency to other perceptions, and that as a result the soul is in a continual state of change (G IV, 544, 546–47). I shall return to this point presently. However, there is a further element to Bayle’s objection. Drawing a distinction between the content of a law of nature and the means by which it is implemented, Bayle observes that the theories of preestablished harmony and occasionalism agree insofar as both posit divinely established laws, which ensure that the states of the soul express the corresponding state of the body. However, the two theories disagree as to “the way in which these laws are put into execution” (DHC “Rorarius” rem. L, 87a; P 252). If the doctrine of preestablished harmony is correct, God has formulated a law that dictates the precise succession of mental states that must occur in the mind in order to represent the parallel but causally independent chain of events occurring in its body. Bayle contends that it is not possible that

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the soul itself should effect the transition from its current perceptual state to its lawfully determined successor, since the soul lacks the “necessary instruments” for executing the law. Here again Bayle seeks to turn one of Leibniz’s criticisms of occasionalism back against him. Recall that Leibniz had objected to the occasionalists that to establish a law of nature, it is not sufficient that God will the relevant regularity, but that he must also endow creatures with the means to carry it out. As Leibniz puts the point: To avoid miracles, it is not sufficient that God should decree a certain law if he does not also give to created things a nature capable of carrying out his orders. It is as if someone were to say that God had ordained that the moon should move freely through the air or in the ether in a circle around the globe of the earth without there being any angel or intelligence which steered it . . . or any heaviness, magnetism, or other mechanically explicable cause which stopped it from leaving the earth and going off along the tangent of the circle. (G IV, 595; WF 170) Nicholas Jolley has argued that Leibniz’s position rests on a confusion between the prescriptive and descriptive sense of a law of nature. For Jolley, Leibniz’s insistence that God must endow creatures with a nature capable of executing his nomological decrees is plausible only if such laws are understood prescriptively, that is, as orders to be carried out. However, taking laws in the descriptive sense—for our purposes, as divine volitions of the form “let it be the case that . . .”—the requirement that created entities have some means of executing the laws is strictly redundant, since God’s volition is by itself sufficient to guarantee the lawful behavior of the relevant entities.50 If this interpretation is correct, it might well be argued that the dispute between Bayle and Leibniz rests on a shared confusion and so merits no further consideration. Admittedly, Leibniz’s way of putting the point leaves him open to the sort of worry that Jolley expresses. Still, a more charitable reading is that for Leibniz, as for Bayle, our world is not one in which complex phenomena such as planetary orbits are brought about on the basis of ad hoc laws of nature, which themselves admit of no explanation in terms of more elementary laws. We expect that the laws governing complex phenomena can ultimately be explained in terms of simpler laws. Were such complex, irreducible laws of nature to be admitted they would be, in the idiom of contemporary philosophy of mind, “nomological danglers.”51 It is this point, I take it, that Leibniz means to be making when he argues that circular motion of the moon must be explained not by appeal to a law of lunar motion, but in terms of some more general cause. Applying this to the soul, we can understand Bayle as objecting that the sequence of perceptions with which a mind is affected cannot be the result of an irreducible law, and so must be owing to more fundamental mechanisms. According to Bayle, there are just three ways in which this might occur. The soul must either (i) know the sequence of perceptions that it is

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to produce within itself or (ii) have the complete series in memory, or (iii) it must be composed of a collection of “particular instruments, each of which would be the necessary cause of such and such a thought,” and so arranged as to produce the appropriate sequence of perceptions—in sum, the soul must be a kind of immaterial mechanism. Bayle maintains that experience shows (i) and (ii) to be false, since as a matter of fact we have no certain knowledge of our future perceptions. But (iii) is likewise false, because the soul is not a “legion of spirits” but a simple immaterial substance, and as such it has no component parts that might play a causal role equivalent to that of the physical components of a machine (DHC “Rorarius” rem. L, vii, 86b; P 252). The key to Leibniz’s solution to these difficulties lies in his claim that every sense perception is founded on an infi nite number of petites perceptions that are capable of fi lling the causal role that Bayle takes to be lacking from the soul. Although Bayle is not unaware of the appeal to petites perceptions as the means of resolving the difficulty, he was in no position to appreciate it fully, since Leibniz chose not to reveal the crucial distinction between perception and apperception without which the theory cannot be understood. Instead, Leibniz limits himself to the assertion that although the soul does not clearly know the series of perceptions with which it will be successively modified, nevertheless it “perceives them confusedly, and . . . there are in every substance traces of everything that has happened to it and everything that will happen to it.”52 As Leibniz explains, at each moment the soul is modified by a perceptual state that is itself composed of an infi nite multitude of further perceptions and these perceptions, although confused, function lawfully to produce the subsequent state of the soul in much the same way that the components of a machine serve to produce its successive states. In his private reading notes, Leibniz had made clear that on his view the soul of the dog represents the impending blow, “but weakly by perceptions that are confused and without apperception, that is to say without the dog noticing it” (G IV, 532). However, this fundamental component of the theory was not included in the fi nal version. Nevertheless, it is clear Bayle would have rejected the distinction between perception and apperception. In his lectures on metaphysics Bayle distinguishes two senses of reflective awareness. According to the fi rst, a mental act is reflexive if it involves awareness of itself—that is, if it is a conscious act. In the second sense, reflective awareness occurs when the mind takes one of its mental acts as the object of another. For Bayle every mental act is essentially reflexive in the fi rst sense insofar as every mental act essentially involves awareness of itself.53 Bayle reaffi rms this view in the article “Rorarius,” where he argues that every act of cognition is conscious of itself and that therefore of necessity if an animal perceives, it is aware of its perception. He writes: It is evident to anyone who knows how to judge things that every substance that has any sensation knows that it senses, and it would not be

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more absurd to maintain that the soul of man actually knows an object without knowing that it knows it than it is absurd to say that the soul of a dog sees a bird without seeing that it sees it. This shows that all the acts of the sensitive faculties are by their nature and essence reflexive on themselves. (DHC “Rorarius” rem. E, 79a; P 221–22) Unfortunately, Bayle offers little by way of argument in either the Systema or “Rorarius.” In the latter, Bayle does cite one passage from Maignan to the effect that every act of sense perception must be conscious. But Maignan’s argument does little more than beg the question against the defender of the possibility of perception without apperception (DHC “Rorarius” rem. E, 79a). In any case, Bayle’s hostility to nonreflexive or unnoticed perceptual states helps to explain Leibniz’s apparently deliberate decision to omit this crucial element from his published response.

CONCLUSION One cannot but feel disappointment at the lost opportunity for further debate concerning Leibniz’s account of perception. Armed only with an incomplete account of the theory of petites perceptions, Bayle politely reserved the right to withhold assent until a more detailed account of the soul’s representational mechanism was forthcoming. In what was likely his fi nal letter to Leibniz, Bayle continued to insist on the difficulty of explaining the means by which the soul might effect a transition from one perceptual state to the next, observing that “it seems to me that the possibility of your hypothesis cannot be disputed as long as the substantial foundation [le fond substantiel] of the soul and the manner by which it can transform itself from one thought to another is not clearly known.”54 Having arrived at this impasse, discussion of the theory drew to a close.

6

Spinoza’s Monism

The article Bayle devotes to Spinoza is unquestionably among the best known and historically most influential in the Dictionnaire. Yet, Bayle’s criticisms of the Ethics have not been well received by scholars. Even those most sympathetic to Bayle have tended to see his objections as something of an embarrassment. Elizabeth Labrousse concedes that Bayle’s criticisms “never attain the authentic thought of Spinoza, but combat a phantom.”1 According to Geneviève Brykman if we once set aside Bayle’s fiery rhetoric, we are left with only a single objection—and that addressed not to the Ethics itself, but to immanentist systems in general—plus a humble complaint concerning the ambiguous use of a term. It is small wonder she should conclude that Spinoza “emerges unscathed from these manoeuvres.”2 Gianluca Mori characterizes Bayle’s rejection of Spinoza’s substance monism as the “least original” element of the article, suggesting that even if the criticisms are in some sense “sincere,” they were conceived by Bayle as little more than a vehicle for insinuating his own preferred brand of atheism.3 For his part, Edwin Curley sees Bayle’s line of argument as “suspicious” and suggests that the true target of the article may be the mysteries of orthodox Christianity.4 In this chapter I examine Bayle’s objections to Spinoza’s substance monism. I argue that whatever its inadequacies, Bayle’s reading is not as ungrounded in Spinoza’s text as it has commonly been portrayed. Indeed, the passage on which Bayle leans most heavily—the crucial scholium to IP15—also provides the foundation for several contemporary interpretations. More importantly, I will show that Bayle’s argumentative strategy is born not of a crude (much less willful) misunderstanding of the Ethics but of a deep and substantive disagreement on a number of metaphysical issues, notably the nature of extension and mereology. Once again, my primary concern in reconstructing Bayle’s arguments will be to uncover the philosophical presuppositions that drive his interpretation and criticism. It may be that the differences separating Bayle from Spinoza are too deep to readily admit of a non-question-begging defense. Nevertheless, Bayle succeeds at a minimum in putting his fi nger on a number of thorny interpretive issues that continue to exercise Spinoza scholars.

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BAYLE’S CHARACTERIZATION OF SPINOZA’S METAPHYSICS At the beginning of Remark N, which constitutes the heart of his critique of the Ethics, Bayle provides his fullest account of Spinoza’s system. The passage is worth quoting in full. Bayle writes: [Spinoza] supposes that there is only one substance in nature, and that this unique substance is endowed with an infinity of attributes—thought and extension among others. In consequence of this, he asserts that all the bodies that exist in the universe are modifications of this substance in so far as it is extended, and that, for example, the souls of men are modifications of this same substance in so far as it thinks; so that God, the necessary and infinitely perfect being, is indeed the cause of all things that exist, but he does not differ from them. There is only one being, and only one nature; and this nature produces in itself by an immanent action all that we call creatures. It is at the same time both agent and patient, efficient cause, and subject. It produces nothing that is not its own modification. (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 259b; P 300–301) This summary is characteristic of Bayle’s treatment of the Ethics in that it is largely confi ned to the metaphysical system presented in Book I.5 That the reading is somewhat reductive can be seen, for example, from the failure to mention either the so-called infi nite modes or Spinoza’s rather idiosyncratic defi nition of such crucial terms as freedom (E ID7) and eternity (E ID8). Perhaps the spareness of Bayle’s account owes something to his incomplete understanding of the work, but it is equally a function of his limited aims. Reflecting back on his arguments in the second edition of the Dictionnaire, Bayle cautions that he never sought to write “a book against Spinoza’s entire system, following it page by page,” but opted instead to exploit a single weakness, which he took to be the cornerstone of Spinoza’s substance monism (DHC “Spinoza” rem. DD, 268b; P 330). Still, despite the obvious omissions, much of what Bayle here attributes to Spinoza is nominally correct. As is well known, Spinoza maintains that God, who is “a being absolutely infi nite, i.e., a substance consisting of an infi nity of attributes,” necessarily exists, and that “except God, no substance can be or be conceived” (E IP14). Of the infi nite set of divine attributes, the human mind is directly acquainted with two: thought and extension (E IIP1, 2). Apart from God and his attributes, all other entities, including every fi nite being, are modes of the unique substance (E IP15). Moreover, God is both the efficient and the immanent cause of these modes, which “have been determined from the necessity of the divine nature to exist” (E IP29). In recent years, one of the main points of scholarly contention has been the interpretation of substance and mode. Perhaps the most natural way to understand these terms as they occur in the Ethics is to take Spinoza to be

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claiming that the relation of mode to substance is essentially that of quality to subject. In his pioneering study of the Ethics, Curley called this reading into question, arguing that because Spinoza’s finite modes are ordinary objects such as rocks and trees, they are “of the wrong logical type” to be related to God as qualities to substance.6 Curley suggests that Spinoza’s attributes of thought and extension be understood instead as the collection of nomological facts corresponding to the basic laws of nature that govern the mental and physical realms respectively. God, the unique substance, is the totality of such basic nomological facts, while the modes of, say, extension are the ordinary material objects governed by the physical laws of nature.7 More recently, Jonathan Bennett has attempted to reinvigorate the inherence interpretation, arguing that Spinoza is best read as proposing a “field metaphysic” account of extension and its modes. On this reading the attribute of extension is taken to be infi nite, substantial space, while ordinary physical objects are qualitative modifications of this space. Thus, for a red ball to exist is for space to contain a spherical region that is red, hard, and rubbery over successive moments. Likewise, the motion of objects is analyzed into a series of qualitative alterations in continuous regions of space.8 As Bennett helpfully illustrates the view, “when a thaw moves across a countryside, as we say, nothing really moves; there are just progressive changes in which bits of the countryside are frozen and which are melted.”9 Although I cannot hope to resolve this interpretive question here, it should be recognized from the outset that Bayle understands Spinoza to use the terms ‘substance’ and ‘mode’ in roughly the same way that Descartes had done. Even when he worries that Spinoza might have broken with the tradition on this score, Bayle never considers treating Spinoza’s substance as a fundamentally different kind of entity, such as a universal essence or a collection of basic nomological facts. Thus, if something like Curley’s reading is correct, Bayle’s own interpretation is wide of the mark. In what follows I shall adopt as a working assumption that the traditional inherence reading of the relation of Spinozistic modes to substance is broadly correct. This procedure is justified in that my principal interest lies with Bayle, and it will facilitate our task of understanding him if we assume that Spinoza’s substance is not of an altogether different kind than what Bayle and the tradition took it to be. Moreover, it is owing in part to Bayle’s criticisms of Spinoza understood in Cartesian terms that commentators have been led to offer alternate interpretations of Spinoza’s substance monism. Thus, by getting clear on the nature and force of Bayle’s objections we should be in a better position to determine the extent to which recourse to such reinterpretations is warranted.

BAYLE’S OBJECTIONS The common target of all Bayle’s objections is Spinoza’s substance monism, that is, the claim that “God is the only substance that there is in

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the universe and that all other beings are only modifications of that substance” (DHC “Spinoza” 269–70; P 304).10 In general, Bayle does not so much take issue with the logic of Spinoza’s demonstrations as call attention to what he takes to be contradictions inherent in the metaphysical system and to Spinoza’s ad hoc attempts to avoid them. Bayle’s criticisms can be usefully distinguished into five major arguments.

Argument from the Compositeness of Extension Bayle’s fi rst objection can be stated roughly as follows. Chief among the infi nite attributes that Spinoza assigns to the unique substance is “extension in general”—that is, the extended, physical plenum considered in abstraction from its modes.11 Now according to Bayle: everything that is extended necessarily has parts, and everything that has parts is composite; and since the parts of extension do not subsist in one another, it must be the case either that extension in general is not a substance, or that each part of extension is a particular substance distinct from all the others. (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 259b; P 302) However, the objection continues, Spinoza is committed to the substantiality of extension, and so his substance monism is undermined. Looking more closely, Bayle’s argument can be seen to proceed in three stages. First, Bayle argues that extension is essentially composite—it consists of a multiplicity of really distinct parts. Next, he maintains that for Spinoza extension in general is not a property or quality of substance, but a substance in its own right. From this Bayle concludes that each part of this extended substance must itself be a distinct substance. Let us consider each stage in turn. For Bayle the essential compositeness of extension is revealed by our clear and distinct idea of it as that which consists of partes extra partes.12 Although he will go on to argue that each of these parts must itself be a substance, it is important to notice that at this stage of the argument, Bayle is concerned only to establish that extension is by its nature composite. As he puts the point elsewhere: [there is as truly] a multiplicity of really distinct parts in a tree or in the air, as in a pile of stones. And it is certain that continuity leaves just as much of a distinction among the parts as does contiguity or distance. (OD III, 225b)13 However, if Bayle sees the complexity of extension as following immediately from its essential nature as that which has partes extra partes, he is willing to defend the view on independent grounds. His principal claim is that incompatible properties require distinct subjects of inherence. I shall return to this argument later.

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In the second stage Bayle argues that Spinoza’s attribute of extension is itself a substance. As Bayle understands him, Spinoza is committed to the Cartesian view that there is only a conceptual distinction between a substance and its principal attribute, from which the substantiality of the attribute of extension follows immediately. Although this interpretation is not without textual support, Bayle insists that Spinoza is under philosophical pressure to deny the real distinctness of the attribute of extension from its substance.14 For to conceive of God as numerically distinct from extension would be to conceive of him as an essentially unextended substance. But this would require Spinoza to explain the relation between the immaterial substance, God, and the extended plenum in a way that is consistent with his claim that there is but one substance. According to Bayle, any attempt to do so will be faced with all of the difficulties that beset the Scholastic doctrine that quantity is a real accident, numerically distinct from its subject of inherence. For example, he maintains that an unextended substance could not serve as the subject of inherence of the three-dimensional plenum. Therefore, the extended plenum would exist without any subject of inherence and consequently would itself be a substance, thereby undermining substance monism. Following the tradition, Bayle defi nes substance as that which exists in itself (ens per se subsistens). What this means for Bayle is that substance is “that whose existence requires no other thing in which it inheres [quod non indiget ad existendum ulla alia re, cui inhaereat]” (OD IV, 228). By contrast, in the Principles Descartes had defi ned ens per se existens more narrowly, conceiving of it as a thing that exists in such a way that it requires no other thing to exist (rem quae ita existit, ut nullâ aliâ re indigeat ad existendum; PP I, 51; AT VIII, 24). By omitting the restrictive clause cui inhaereat, Descartes signals that on his view a substance must be independent not only of any subject of inherence, but of every object whatsoever. The consequence he draws from this, that strictly speaking only God is a substance, suggests that Descartes’s tightening of the criterion of per se existence is chiefly motivated by a concern to uphold the causal independence of substance. Of course, Bayle is well aware of Descartes’s reworking of the traditional notion of substance. However, in his lectures on logic Bayle explicitly rejects this more restrictive notion of existence per se, arguing that “it is certain that by existence in itself, we understand only existing without a subject.”15 On the basis of this criterion of substance, Bayle argues that each individual part of extension must itself be a substance. For these parts “do not subsist in one another,” nor, by the second stage of the argument, do they inhere in any distinct, unextended subject (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 259; P 302). Therefore, they have no subject of inherence and so are themselves distinct substances.16 The conclusion Bayle draws is that in order to defend the claim that there is only one substance and that it is essentially extended, Spinoza must reject the crucial premise upon which the objection rests.

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Specifically, he is forced to deny that the attribute of extension is composed of really distinct parts, maintaining instead that it is a simple being, “as exempt from composition as the mathematical points” (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 259b; P 304). I shall return to Bayle’s defense of the essential compositeness of extension in the next section. For the moment I want to consider Spinoza’s main argument for the simplicity of extended substance, as doing so will help us appreciate several deep differences in their respective accounts of extended substance. At E IP12 Spinoza defends the claim that as an attribute, extension cannot have parts on the grounds that what is composed of parts must be conceived through its parts, whereas, by E IP10, the attributes of substance must be conceived through themselves. For Spinoza this latter claim is an immediate consequence of the defi nitions of substance and attribute. Thus, he argues that if parts of substance were themselves substances, “the whole could both be and be conceived without its parts, which is absurd” (E IP12D; Geb II, 55; C 419). Similarly, in the Metaphysical Thoughts Spinoza rejects the composition of substance on the grounds that “component parts are prior in nature at least to the thing composed” (Geb I, 258; C 324). On Bayle’s view, as we have seen, it is the very nature of extension to be composed of parts. As Bayle puts the point: every extension is composed of parts that are distinct and, consequently, separable from one another; from which it follows that if God were extended, he would not be a simple, immutable, and properly infi nite being, but an assemblage of beings, ens per aggregationem, each of which would be fi nite, even though all of them together would be unlimited. He would be like the material world, which, in the Cartesian theory, has an infi nite extension. (DHC “Zénon d’Elée” rem. I, 544b; P 380) Bayle maintains that ontologically, the whole is nothing over and above its component parts taken collectively; the unity of a composite is purely ideal. Insofar as an extended object can be considered one individual, its unity is owing entirely to an arbitrary mental act by which its distinct parts are considered together as a single object. Speaking of the alleged unity of an extended object, Bayle observes: your supersubstantial unity is only a mental abstraction by which we consider a whole without attending to the portions of which it is composed, but in reality there is no distinction between a whole and its parts joined together . . . To fi nd some unity in this aggregate one must have recourse to abstractions of logic, either by considering only the activity spread throughout the entire mass, or by ascending to some instant of reason in which the cause is conceived as prior to its effects. (OD III, 290b)17

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Whereas Spinoza insists on the conceptual and ontological priority of substance, which precludes its composition out of parts, for Bayle the nature of extended substance is to be composed of parts that are both conceptually and ontologically prior to the whole. The whole qua whole is nothing over and above the various parts united into a single object by a perceiving mind.18 Doubtless the confidence with which Bayle presses this account of extension stems in part from what he takes to be its a priori character. However, it is equally clear that Bayle makes his task considerably lighter by neglecting the second component of Spinoza’s defi nition, according to which substance is that which is not only in itself, but conceived through itself.19 However, Bayle’s understanding of extension as that which consists of partes extra partes virtually insured that he could not accept, nor perhaps even fully appreciate, the role of conceptual independence in Spinoza’s account of substance. It is indicative of his failure to appreciate the importance of this component of Spinoza’s definition that in defending his criticisms against the charge of misinterpretation in the second edition of the Dictionnaire, Bayle makes no mention of the conceptual independence of substance, drawing attention instead to his having granted for the sake of the argument that “for something to deserve the name of substance, it must be independent of all causes, or exist by itself eternally and necessarily” (DHC “Spinoza” rem. DD, 268b; P 330). Bayle’s discussion of extension in the “Zénon d’Elée” passage cited earlier points up a second crucial difference with Spinoza. In the Short Treatise Spinoza maintains that “the infi nite cannot be composed of a number of fi nite parts” (KV I.i.9; Geb I, 18; C 64). For the same reason he argues that infi nite, extended substance must be simple, or non-composite, because: if it did consist of parts, it would not be infi nite through its nature, as we have said it is. But it is impossible that parts could be conceived in an infi nite Nature, for all its parts are, by their nature, fi nite. (KV I.ii.19; Geb I, 25; C 71) Thus, for Spinoza it is not merely the conceptual independence of substance, but its infi nitude that precludes its being composed of fi nite parts. Bayle agrees that by its very nature, extension is infi nite. 20 However, he denies that it follows from this that extension does not consist of parts, arguing: it would be in vain for you to claim that the infi nite has no parts, which must necessarily be false with respect to all infi nite numbers, since number includes essentially several units. (DHC “Zénon d’Elée” rem. I, 544; P 381) What the example of natural numbers is intended to show is that an infi nite extension can be composed of fi nite parts, provided among other things that there is an infi nite number of them. Indeed, for Bayle “an infi nite [material]

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world is nothing but an aggregate of an infi nity of limited beings.”21 Thus, while he acknowledges the infi nity of the extended plenum, Bayle denies that what is infi nite is ipso facto compositionally simple. 22

Argument from Incompatible Properties Although his preferred argument for the compositeness of extension consists in a straightforward appeal to our clear idea of extension as partes extra partes, Bayle does argue for the same conclusion by invoking the principle that incompatible properties entail distinctness of parts. Alluding to Spinoza’s discussion of the indivisibility of extended substance at E IP15S, Bayle cautions: let no one come and urge objections to us against the imagination and the prejudices of the senses; for the most intellectual notions, and the most immaterial ones, make us see with complete evidence that there is a very real distinction between things, one of which possesses a quality and the other of which does not. (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 259; P 305) According to Bayle, incompatible qualities require numerically distinct subjects of inherence. The same subject cannot be at once both round and square. Thus, if a square shape and a round shape exist, they must exist in two distinct substances. “All this shows that extension is composed of as many distinct substances as there are [incompatible] modifications” (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 260a; P 307). However, in formulating the objection in this way, Bayle leaves himself open to a telling reply. For the argument appears to trade on a confusion between (a) existing independently of any subject of inherence and (b) being a bearer of qualities. Traditionally, substances were taken to exhibit both characteristics—that is, a substance was understood to be a subject of properties that is not itself a property of any further subject. Nevertheless, it is important to keep the two characteristics distinct. For some have held that while every substance is a subject of properties, the converse is not the case. For these philosophers, there is a category of entity whose instances are bearers of predicates, but whose existence is adjectival on that of some further subject. Let us call such an entity a modal subject. A modal subject, then, is that which (a) is a subject of qualities and (b) whose being is exhausted by the possession of some set of properties by one or more further entities. Consider, for example, a smile. Insofar as a smile can be characterized as broad or furtive, it is a subject of predicates. Nevertheless, a smile is not an ens per se subsistens, since in itself, it is nothing over and above the parts of a face standing to one another in certain determinate spatial relations. On the basis of this distinction more than one commentator has accused Bayle of illicitly sliding from the concept of subject of predicates to that

122 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics of substance, understood as an independently existing entity. Thus, James Van Cleve takes issue with Bayle’s contention that for Spinoza the thoughts we commonsensically ascribe to Peter and Paul are rightly predicated of God and that therefore God must be the subject of incompatible predicates. According to Van Cleve: in assuming that if God is the only substance, he must also be the only subject, Bayle is equating the notions of subject and substance. . . . But in declaring Peter to be a mode rather than a substance, Spinoza is not denying that Peter is a subject. He is maintaining that Peter’s existence (as well as his having the predicates he does) consists in God’s having certain predicates, but these predicates need not include being the real thinker of Peter’s thoughts. (Van Cleve 1999, 175) In considering Van Cleve’s criticism it will be helpful to distinguish two distinct, though closely related, complaints. First, Van Cleve charges that Bayle assumes without argument that every subject of predicates is a substance, effectively ignoring the possibility of modal subjects. It is this assumption, Van Cleve suggests, that underlies Bayle’s assertion that if God is the only substance, then all qualities of modes must be directly ascribed to God himself. The second criticism begins with the fact that Peter is a subject of predicates. Now because on Spinoza’s view Peter is also a mode of God, it follows that Peter’s having the qualities he does is exhausted by God’s having certain qualities. However, these qualities need not be the same as those predicated of Peter.23 Van Cleve’s suggestion is that a quality, F, may be truly predicable of a modal subject by virtue of the fact that some other quality, F*, belongs to the underlying substance. But this implies that the inference from ‘Peter is F and is a mode of God’ to ‘God is F’ is fallacious. The second of these complaints perhaps most clearly concerns the Argument from Divine Goodness, which I discuss later. For the moment, let us focus on the fi rst. In reconstructing the Argument from the Compositeness of Extension, I have tried to show that initial appearances to the contrary, Bayle does not move directly from the existence of incompatible properties to the existence of numerically distinct substances. Rather, he argues that (a) incompatible properties require distinct subjects of inherence, (b) these subjects of inherence, or parts of extended substance, themselves inhere in no further subject, and (c) therefore these parts are individual substances. Thus, as it stands, Van Cleve’s charge that Bayle is guilty of straightforwardly “equating the notions of subject and substance” is unfounded. Nevertheless, we might sharpen Van Cleve’s criticism so as to more clearly target premise (b). Specifically, we could take Van Cleve to be arguing that it is wrong to assume that the distinct subjects of inherence required by incompatible properties have themselves no subject of inherence, since they might turn out to be modal subjects. Therefore, the inference from incompatible properties to multiplicity of substances is invalid.

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In the article “Spinoza” Bayle gestures at a defense of the claim that all predicates that are truly predicable of a certain subject apply stricto sensu to the substance and not to its accidents. Bayle lays down the principle that “all names that are given to a subject to signify either what it does or what it suffers apply properly and physically to its substance and not to its accidents” (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 261a; P 309). Although his talk of names might suggest he is here taking ‘predicate’ in its linguistic sense, the subsequent assertion that predicates such as hardness apply “physically” to the material substance shows that Bayle’s real concern is with the ontology of qualities. Unfortunately, the examples he marshals in defense of his position leave him open to precisely the sort of objection that Van Cleve suggests. Thus, Bayle insists that the statements ‘iron is hard’ and ‘iron is heavy’ assert not that hardness is hard nor that heaviness is heavy, but that “the extended substance of which [the iron] is composed is heavy” (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 261a; P 309). The problem with these examples is that they appear to rest on the question-begging assumption that the only possible subjects of predicates in, say, a sword are (i) the material substances of which it is composed and (ii) the predicates themselves. It is only by ignoring the possibility that the immediate subject of the qualities might be a modal subject that Bayle is able to move directly from the absurdity of predicating hardness of hardness to the conclusion that it is correctly predicated of the material substance itself. To my knowledge there is only one other text in which Bayle defends the view that the proper subject of qualities is substance. In his lectures on logic Bayle bids us consider a piece of burning wood. He asks whether the accident of burning inheres in the wood or in the matter of which the wood is composed. The two possibilities are distinct, he maintains, because “wood in so far as it is wood is not a substance, but only a certain mode of matter.”24 Thus, Bayle explicitly poses the question whether burning immediately inheres in the modal subject wood or in the material substance of which it is composed. His position is that, although linguistically we predicate the burning of the wood, metaphysically the “true and unique subject” of the burning is the underlying material substance of which the wood is composed (OD IV, 227). That Bayle takes this result to be fully generalizable to all accidents of material substance can be seen from his willingness to apply it without further argument to other physical qualities. Thus, in arguing for the separability of every accidental quality from its subject of inherence, he considers the objection that blackness is accidental to the “face of an Ethiopian,” but is nevertheless inseparable from it. Bayle rejects the counterexample on the grounds that “the Ethiopian is not the subject of the blackness, because from what has been said before, matter is the true and proper subject of accidents.”25 Unfortunately, Bayle does not spell out the argument in greater detail. However, his claim would appear to be that burning is nothing more than a certain kind of motion, and motion inheres immediately in the individual

124 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics parts of the matter of which wood is composed. Behind this line of argument lies the familiar mechanist thesis that every quality of material substance is ontologically reducible to various spatial arrangements of its parts and their relative states of motion or rest. The suggestion would seem to be that since shape and motion are nothing over and above the spatial relations in which the parts of matter stand to themselves and to other bodies, they are not ontologically reducible to further kinds of accidents. Therefore, for the mechanist, all real qualities of bodies immediately inhere in the parts of matter of which they are composed. Doubtless, Bayle’s confidence in pressing this objection against Spinoza is founded on what he takes to be a shared commitment to a mechanist ontology of matter. 26 If so, this is one place where Bayle’s contention that Spinoza had been “a great Cartesian” has a substantive role to play in the argument. One might be tempted to object to the Argument from Incompatible Properties on the basis of a consideration suggested by Van Cleve’s remarks. Recall that Van Cleve’s second point was that the accidents that are predicable of a modal subject need not be the same as those that are predicated of the underlying substance in which it inheres. The problem, as Van Cleve sees it, is that Bayle moves directly from the fact that Peter is angry and is a mode of God to the claim that God, the underlying substance, is angry. But although Peter’s being a modal subject of God entails that if Peter has the property F, God must have some property F*, Bayle offers no argument for the claim that F and F* must be the same property. Now consider two incompatible properties F and G each of which is correctly predicable of a mode of God. One might argue that at best what Bayle has shown is that there must be some properties F* and G* which are truly predicated of God. But because we are not entitled to infer that F is F* and G is G*, from the fact that F and G are incompatible it does not follow that F* and G* must likewise be incompatible. Although formally correct, the suggestion loses whatever plausibility it has when we consider that any sensible ontological reduction will preserve the incompatibility among the reduced qualities at the level of the reducing qualities. If it did not, then we would be left with no explanation for the incompatibility of qualities at the macrolevel. Thus it is reasonable to expect that any incompatibility at the level of modal predication will be replicated at the level of substance. Still for all Bayle has said, it is far from clear that the argument succeeds in establishing that the parts in which incompatible properties inhere must be distinct substances. For we could grant to Bayle that it is programmatic for a mechanist that reduction of macro-level physical qualities is to be accomplished solely in terms of shape and motion, yet still wonder whether this shows that the existence of motion in the extended plenum proves that it is composed of substantial parts. Jonathan Bennett has argued that it does not, since on the field metaphysic reading, Spinoza’s extended plenum is a simple, substantial whole on which bodies exist adjectivally. 27 More specifically, Bennett suggests that physical objects be treated as logical

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constructions out of the qualitative features of a collection of continuous space-time pairs. Rather than analyze bodies into modifications of regions, which might be construed as constituent parts of space, Bennett suggests that Spinoza could fi x the locations of objects by appeal to (indexical) locational adverbs. Thus, “a billiard ball exists in region R” would be expressed by statements of the form “Space is red and hard in this region.” The motion of bodies would then be analyzed in terms of successive qualitative modifications of space. Bennett insists that in this way Spinoza could avoid the Argument from Incompatible Properties, since the field metaphysic offers an ontological analysis of body and motion that preserves the simplicity and uniqueness of extended substance. One reason for hesitation concerning Bennett’s field metaphysic interpretation involves the proposed equation of Spinoza’s attribute of extension with space. A straightforward implication of Descartes’s theory of extended substance is that there cannot be at the deepest level of ontological analysis two fundamentally different kinds of extended entity. The metaphysical picture of impenetrable body existing in an infi nite spatial container must be rejected in favor of a view that accords ontological priority either to matter or to space. As is well known, Descartes chooses concrete, extended matter as his fundamental entity, reducing space and place to nothing more than abstractions from body. However, on Bennett’s reading, Spinoza reverses this priority, making three-dimensional space ontologically prior to matter, which exists adjectivally on space. Thus Bennett offers a Spinoza whose account of extended substance is a complete inversion of Descartes’s view. 28 Of course, one might reply that Spinoza is offering an innovative metaphysical account of extended substance, and so it is question-begging to insist on reading him as slavishly cleaving to Cartesian orthodoxy. However, an additional worry is that Bennett’s interpretation threatens to deprive motion and rest of its status as the most fundamental mode of extension. Although his discussion in the Ethics is notoriously abstract, when pressed in correspondence to provide examples of what have come to be called the immediate infi nite modes, Spinoza names motion and rest in the case of extension (Letter 64). This suggests that for Spinoza there is a logical priority of motion and rest to the remaining modes of extension. However, on Bennett’s reading this suggestion would be incoherent, since motion and rest are logical constructions out of some irreducible, and presumably unknown, monadic properties immediately inhering in space. Thus, far from giving rise to all qualitative change in extended substance, motion is nothing over and above a series of irreducible qualitative changes in continuous regions of space. I shall return to these issues later.

Argument from Divine Mutability Whereas the previous two objections took issue with Spinoza’s claim that God is a simple being, Bayle’s next criticism attempts to demonstrate that

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insofar as it is formally extended Spinoza’s unique substance is the subject of all change, which is incompatible with divine immutability. Bayle offers two arguments against the immutability of Spinoza’s God. The burden of the first is to show that the divine substance is subject to a specific kind of change, namely, division. The argument is simply stated. If a substance is divisible, it is mutable. Extension is by nature divisible, therefore extended substance is essentially mutable. Spinoza’s God is an extended substance. Therefore, Spinoza’s God is essentially mutable. According to Bayle, Spinoza attempts to elude this unwelcome result by redefining divisibility. Bayle writes: [‘the Spinozists’] contend that for matter to be divided it is necessary that one of its portions be separated from the others by empty spaces, which never happens. It is most certain that this is a very bad way of defi ning division. We are as actually separated from our friends when the interval that separates us is occupied by other men ranged in a fi le as if it were full of earth. One overthrows, then, both our ideas and our language when one asserts to us that matter reduced to cinders and smoke is not separated. (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 260; P 307) As Bayle understands him, Spinoza’s defense of indivisibility turns on a definition of division according to which two bodies are really divided only if they are separated by an empty space—that is, a vacuum. Initially, the suggestion is puzzling, since Spinoza’s official arguments for the indivisibility of substance and attribute, which occur at E IP13 and E IP12 respectively, make no appeal to the notion of a vacuum. However, Bayle is once again drawing on the crucial scholium to IP15, where Spinoza does invoke the impossibility of a vacuum in support of the indivisibility of material substance. Before looking at that passage, it will be useful to distinguish two notions of divisibility at work in our texts. According to the fi rst, which I shall call strong divisibility, an object is divisible if and only if it is comprised of parts that can continue to exist in the same state even if one or more of the remaining parts is annihilated. While this criterion is unquestionably present in IP15S, Bayle’s objection suggests that he sees a second notion of divisibility at work in Spinoza. According to this alternate criterion of weak divisibility, an object is divisible if and only if it is comprised of two or more parts that are separable from one another. Now what does it mean to say that two objects are mutually separable? Given his claim that for Spinoza division requires separation “by empty spaces,” it might seem that the criterion of separation Bayle has in mind is something like standing on opposite sides of a vacuum. However, if this is his understanding of Spinoza’s argument, it is difficult to make sense of Bayle’s rejoinder that “we are as actually separated from our friends when the interval that separates us is occupied by other men ranged in a fi le as if it were full of earth.” If the relevant sense of separability in Spinoza’s argument is supposed to be interposition of a vacuum, why does Bayle’s refutation not draw a contrast

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between men separated by earth and men separated by an empty region? In fact, what the contrast between men separated by earth and men separated by other men is supposed to establish is that in order for two human beings to be separated, it is not necessary that there be something between them that is not a human being—that is, something that is different in kind from the things it serves to separate. More generally, then, the criterion of separability that Bayle is implicitly attributing to Spinoza is the following: Separabilty1: Given two objects, x and y, of type F, x and y are separable1 just in case it is possible for them to fall on opposite sides of an entity that is not-F. As Bayle reads him, it is this criterion of separability that lies behind Spinoza’s contention that the indivisibility of extended substance is demonstrated by the impossibility of a vacuum. Given this, we can reconstruct Bayle’s understanding of Spinoza’s argument as follows. Insofar as they are material objects, two portions of matter could be weakly divided only if they could be separated by a region that is not material. However, for Spinoza as for Descartes, it is the essence of material substance to be extended. Now, trivially, every spatial expanse is extended, from which it follows that every such region is material. Put another way, in order for two bodies to be separated1 there would have to lie between them an extended region that is not itself a body. But since a vacuum is impossible—that is, since every extended region is material—matter qua matter is neither separable1 nor consequently weakly divisible. 29 Such is the Argument from Weak Divisibility that Bayle attributes to Spinoza. Where, if anywhere, does Spinoza make this argument? The most prominent appeal to the impossibility of a vacuum to establish the indivisibility of extended substance occurs in the following passage from the scholium to IP15: All those who know that clear reason is infallible must confess this— particularly those who deny that there is a vacuum. For if corporeal substance could be so divided that its parts were really distinct, why, then, could one part not be annihilated, the rest remaining connected with one another as before? And why must they all be so fitted together that there is no vacuum? Truly, of things which are really distinct from one another, one can be, and remain in its condition, without the other. Since, therefore, there is no vacuum in nature (on which elsewhere), but all its parts must so concur that there is no vacuum, it follows also that they cannot be really distinguished, i.e., that corporeal substance, insofar as it is a substance, cannot be divided. (Geb II, 59; C 423) In asserting that the extended plenum cannot be so divided that one part might be annihilated while leaving the remainder existing “in its condition

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(in suo statu),” Spinoza is denying that extended substance is strongly divisible.30 I shall have more to say about Spinoza’s Argument from Strong Divisibility later. For the moment I want to ask whether there are other texts suggestive of an argument from weak divisibility. One clue as to Bayle’s target is the carefully worded final sentence of the objection: “[Spinoza] asserts to us that matter reduced to cinders and smoke is not separated.” The suggestion is that on Spinoza’s view, when wood is divided by fire, matter or corporeal substance is not so divided. This suggests Bayle is taking issue with the well-known contrast in IP15S between two ways of conceiving quantity, a discussion in which Spinoza explicitly links the concepts of divisibility and separability. Spinoza concedes that water “is divided and its parts separated from one another” insofar as it is water—that is, insofar as it is a mode of extended substance. However, he insists that insofar as water is corporeal substance “it is neither separated nor divided” (E IP15S; Geb II, 60; C 424). As Bayle reads him, Spinoza is willing to grant that insofar as it is a mode, water consists of parts that are separable, because the parts of water can be so arranged that there is a non-watery region between them.31 However, he takes Spinoza to deny that water insofar as it is an extended substance can be separated, since “matter is everywhere the same.”32 Or to put the point another way, even when water is separated by a non-watery region there is no immaterial region by which two portions of matter could be separated, because such a region would constitute a vacuum, which is impossible.33 Despite its resourcefulness Bayle’s reading of the water passage from E IP15S is not easy to assess, since Spinoza does not carefully spell out the argument from inseparability that Bayle claims to find there.34 However, if we look to the Short Treatise, we fi nd Spinoza arguing in much the way that Bayle suggests. There Spinoza rejects the divisibility of extended substance into distinct parts based on an appeal to inseparability. He writes: When you divide the whole extension, can you also, according to the nature of all parts, cut off from the others the part you cut off with your intellect? Assuming that you can, I ask what there is between the part cut off and the rest? You must say: either a vacuum, or another body, or something of extension itself. There is no fourth alternative. Not the fi rst, for there is no vacuum, something positive, but not a body. Not the second, for then there would be modes where there can be none, since extension as extension is without and prior to all modes. The third then. And so there is no part, but only extension as a whole. (KV I.ii.19, note g; Geb I, 25; C 71) Spinoza is attempting to establish that extended substance is not composed of parts on the grounds that it is not divisible. To this end he challenges the defender of divisibility to characterize the region that would separate a severed

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part from the remaining portion of extension following a hypothetical division (“I ask what there is between the part cut off and the rest?”). Spinoza immediately rules out the possibility that the parts of extension might be separated by empty space on the grounds that there can be no vacuum. He goes on to conclude that what would lie between the putative part of extension and the remainder could only be a portion of extension, and that therefore the alleged part is, in fact, no part at all. The suggestion is that in such a case the parts would not be truly separated, and therefore the whole would remain undivided. The argument is puzzling unless we take Spinoza to be claiming that part and whole alike are extended entities and so cannot be separated1 by extension, since separation1 requires interposition of an entity of a different kind from the objects separated. If this is correct, Spinoza’s argument rests on the same assumption that informs Bayle’s reading of the water passage from E IP15, namely, that divisibility presupposes separability1. Earlier we saw Bayle objecting to the defi nition of separability that underwrites Spinoza’s criterion of weak divisibility. Bayle himself proposes an alternate criterion of separability and with it a different account of weak divisibility. He writes: things that can be separated from one another with regard to time or place are distinct. Applying these characteristics to the twelve inches of a foot of extension, we will fi nd a real distinction between them. . . . I can transpose the sixth to the place of the twelfth; it can be separated from the fifth. (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 259; P 306) Bayle’s suggestion is the commonsense view that two parts are separable if they are transposable with respect to one another. On this criterion, the character of the intervening entities is irrelevant. As we might expect Bayle holds that separability in the sense of transposability follows immediately from the essence of material substance as res extensa. He writes: we distinctly conceive that [extension] is divisible, because we distinctly conceive that it consists of distinct parts, none of which need lie next to one part rather than another. It follows that each part is separable from the others, and it is in this that the divisibility of body consists. (OD IV, 224–25)35 For Bayle, the capacity of two things to undergo a change in spatial relations relative to one another entails their separability, and consequently, their weak divisibility.36 In sum, the very essence of extension entails that every extended substance is weakly divisible. This, in turn, suffices to ensure the mutability of the divine substance insofar as it is extended.37 Bayle’s second argument against the immutability of Spinoza’s God relies on the premise that ordinary produced objects are modes that inhere in the divine substance. It follows, according to Bayle, that God is the ultimate

130 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics subject of all of the various alterations among these modes. As a result, God is mutable in the sense of being the subject of successive states. As Bayle portrays him, Spinoza attempts to defend himself against this charge by insisting that alteration occurs only at the level of modes, whereas God’s substantial essence is eternal and unchanging. Thus, God suffers no alteration insofar as he “would still equally be an infinite, extended, thinking substance, and so on, with all the other substantial or essential attributes” (DHC “Spinoza” rem. CC, 267a; P 325). As Bayle points out, the tradition recognizes two kinds of change among existing things: alteration and annihilation. The latter is the complete destruction of a thing, whereas the former involves the passing from one mode or state to another of a substance whose essence remains unchanged.38 According to Bayle, Spinoza’s attempt to secure God’s immutability amounts to an unwarranted equation of change with annihilation. As Bayle puts the point, a mutable nature is: not only a nature whose existence can begin and end, but a nature that, always subsisting in terms of its substance, can acquire successive modifications and lose accidents or forms that it has sometimes had. (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 260; P 308)39 On Bayle’s view, the claim that God necessarily exists by virtue of his essence and that that essence is eternal and unchanging shows not that God is immutable, but only that he is not subject to annihilation. Again, Bayle is attempting to show that Spinoza’s substance monism contravenes our clear and distinct idea of the divine nature and that therefore Spinoza’s God is “not at all the supremely perfect being” (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 260b; P 308).40 However, Bayle seems also to be drawing on Corollary 2 to E IP20 where Spinoza contends that from the fact that God’s existence is identical to his essence, it follows that “God, or all of God’s attributes, are immutable. For if they changed as to their existence, they would also (by P20) change as to their essence . . . which is absurd” (Geb II, 65; C 428–29).41 For Bayle, then, Spinoza’s insistence that God’s attributes are eternal and unchanging is insufficient ground for asserting that God himself is immutable. Earlier I noted that Spinoza puts forward an argument for the indivisibility of matter based on the criterion of strong divisibility. I would now like to return to that argument. Recall that Spinoza maintains that a substance is divisible if and only if it is composed of really distinct parts.42 He writes: of things which are really distinct from one another, one can be, and remain in its state (in suo statu), without the other. Since, therefore, there is no vacuum in nature . . . but all its parts must so concur that there is no vacuum, it follows also that they cannot be really distinguished, that is, that corporeal substance, insofar as it is a substance, cannot be divided. (E IP15S; Geb II, 59; C 423)

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According to Spinoza, because one part of extension cannot be annihilated without destroying the whole, the extended plenum is not composed of really distinct parts, and so it is not strongly divisible. Given the attention he pays to IP15S, it is surprising that Bayle should fail to engage this argument from strong divisibility as part of his objections to the simplicity and immutability of Spinoza’s God. The omission is all the more striking in light of a discussion of annihilation and the extended plenum to be found in the article “Zénon d’Elée.” In that passage Bayle rehearses a standard objection to the Cartesian analysis of body as res extensa and acknowledges the difficulty it poses for the real distinctness of the parts of extension.43 As Bayle formulates the objection, it follows from the Cartesian account of matter that: either there are no bodies in nature, or there are an infi nite number of them. One cannot be destroyed without annihilating all the rest, nor can the smallest be preserved without preserving all the rest. However, we know by evident ideas that when two things are really distinct, one can be preserved or destroyed without the other being so; for whatever is really distinct from a thing is accidental to it; and . . . everything can be preserved without that which is accidental to it. (DHC “Zénon d’Elée” rem. I, 545b; P 384) The difficulty stems from the Cartesian view that each part of the extended plenum is a really distinct substance and so capable of existing independently of every other part. For, this appears to be inconsistent with the fact that if one part of extension were to be annihilated, the entire plenum would cease to exist. Mori has argued that the difficulty Bayle raises for the Cartesian account of res extensa vitiates his objections to Spinoza. Indeed, Mori goes further and claims that in the “Zénon d’Elée” passage, “[Bayle] observes that Cartesian plenism thwarts the refutation of Spinoza, because it presupposes the existence of a ‘continuous whole’ which is reminiscent of the unique substance of the Ethics.”44 However, this is too hasty, if for no other reason than that Bayle makes no mention whatsoever of Spinoza in the passage at issue. Thus, it is misleading to claim that Bayle here “observes” that the difficulty surrounding the Cartesian account of material substance undermines his refutation of Spinoza’s monism. In fact, before we can draw any conclusions about the philosophical impact on Bayle’s objections to Spinoza, we must look more closely at precisely what it is being claimed in the “Zénon d’Elée” passage. When we do, I believe, we will find that Bayle’s objections emerge largely, if not wholly, intact. To begin, neither the Argument from Divine Mutability, nor the objections I shall examine later depend on the claim that extended substance is composed of really distinct parts—that is, that it is strongly divisible. Nothing in the difficulty Bayle raises in “Zénon d’Elée” requires him to call into

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question the attribution of weak divisibility to the extended plenum. As a result these arguments are left untouched by the “Zénon” worry. Thus, the question reduces to whether Bayle would be forced to renounce the Argument from the Compositeness of Extension. Recall that the conclusion of that argument is that by its very essence the extended plenum is composed of a multiplicity—indeed, an infi nitude—of substances. The tension in the Cartesian account of the extended plenum arises from the following inconsistent set of principles: 1.

If two objects are really distinct, each can continue to exist even if the other is annihilated. 2. All extended substances are really distinct from one another. 3. Extension is composed of several parts each of which is an extended substance. 4. No portion of extension can continue to exist if any one of its parts is annihilated without replacement. In claiming that the “Zénon d’Elée” argument vitiates Bayle’s attack on substance monism, Mori assumes without argument that Bayle commits himself to the rejection of 3. However, it is striking that nowhere does Bayle himself draw this conclusion. On the contrary, he continues to affi rm 3. in subsequent texts. Thus, to take but one example, Bayle argues in the Continuation des pensées diverses that “there would be nothing more absurd than to say that each part of a substance is not a substance” (OD III, 225b).45 Of the remaining premises, 1. is purely defi nitional. Nor does Bayle show any inclination to question 4. However, it would be open to Bayle to reject 2. For the criterion of real distinction makes no part of Bayle’s defi nition of substance. As we have seen, Bayle holds that a substance is any being that is ens per se, understood simply as that which does not inhere in a subject. As Bayle repeatedly insists, noninherence constitutes “the whole essence of substance” (OD III, 225b). Thus, the view that all substances are really distinct from one another rests on the assumption that there is only one kind of metaphysical dependence between entities: that of inherence in a subject. Arguably, what Bayle takes the “Zénon” passage to show is that this is a mistake and that there is another sort of metaphysical dependence that characterizes the parts of extension—a dependence such that, as Bayle puts the point, “one cannot be destroyed without annihilating all the rest, nor can the smallest be preserved without preserving all the rest” (DHC “Zénon d’Elée” rem. I, 545b; P 384). Indeed, Bayle imagines a possible reply on behalf of the Cartesians. According to Bayle, one could argue that God can annihilate any fi nite portion of extended substance, provided that he simultaneously replace it with another of the same size and spatial relations. The suggestion is that on the Cartesian account of the extended plenum, each body exists independently

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of every other insofar as it is capable of surviving the annihilation of any other particular body, even if there must be some body occupying the precise position of the annihilated one. In sum, Bayle suggests that there is a weaker sense of real distinctness that characterizes the parts of extended substance and that preserves the substantiality of those parts. It might be objected that the solution is merely verbal in that the identity conditions for a portion of the infi nite plenum will be based on its spatial relations to other portions, and that therefore the notion of replacing one portion of extension with a numerically distinct, but quantitatively identical portion is incoherent. However, Bayle may be willing to accept the possibility as genuine, because as we saw in the last chapter, he holds that “each thing can be individuated by its own being” and that therefore sameness of spatial relations does not entail sameness of object.46 This would also explain why immediately following the reply he suggests on behalf of the Cartesians, Bayle reinterprets the difficulty as theological rather than metaphysical, insofar as the Cartesian account of matter places a restriction on God’s freedom to create and annihilate such portions of extension as he sees fit. Bayle writes: The Cartesians can reply that [God] can destroy each particular body, provided he makes another of the same size. But is this not putting limits on his freedom? Is this not imposing a kind of servitude on him that obliges him necessarily to create a new body every time he wishes to destroy one? (DHC “Zénon d’Elée” rem. I, 545b; P 385) That Bayle should portray the modern Zenoist as shifting away from the metaphysical objection based on the real distinctness of parts suggests that Bayle himself may be satisfied with the weaker sense of real distinction. Moreover, Bayle denies elsewhere that the theological version of the objection constitutes a genuine worry for the Cartesians.47 Thus, while he could have chosen to abandon the Argument from Compositeness in light of the “Zénon” objection, it seems more likely that he accepted instead a modified version of real distinction, at least with respect to the component parts of extended substance.

ARGUMENT FROM THE IDENTITY OF ATTRIBUTES Bayle next raises a brief but important worry concerning the difficulty Spinoza faces in explaining how God’s various attributes (Bayle focuses on extension and thought in particular) can belong to the numerically same substance. As we have seen, Bayle takes Spinoza to be committed to the denial of a real or even modal distinction between substance and its principal attribute—for Bayle, a substance just is its principal attribute. There is some textual basis for this reading, as when Spinoza speaks of

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“substances, or what is the same thing (D4), their attributes and their affects” (IP4D).48 The challenge confronting Spinoza is to explain the relation between God, the unique substance, and a collection of attributes each of which is conceived through itself, and so is arguably a substance in its own right. One solution, offered by Curley, proposes we take seriously Spinoza’s talk of God as a being that “consists of infi nite attributes” (IP10S). For Curley, such passages suggest that Spinoza means to identify God with the collection of attributes.49 This preserves the distinctness of the attributes, but at the risk of making of God a mere aggregate of substance-like attributes. For his part, Bayle argues in the opposite direction, maintaining that given his equation of substance and principal attribute, it follows from Spinoza’s substance monism that thought and extension must be identical. 50 For, if two attributes are individually identical to one and the same substance, they must be identical to one another. 51 According to Bayle, “Spinoza, who taught that the eternal and necessary being had together the attribute of thought and the attribute of extension, acknowledged that this alloy [alliage] was incomprehensible, and the weakest and most awkward part of his system” (OD III, 942b). Of course, Spinoza would resist this implication, since he insists that each attribute is conceived as really distinct (IP10S). Presumably, Spinoza would reply that while it is true that each attribute is conceived as constituting the essence of substance, it need not be conceived as constituting its whole essence. While this might block Bayle’s inference, it leaves unilluminated the precise relation between substance and its attributes. Moreover, it is not clear that Spinoza is in a position to maintain the real distinctness of the attributes, since each attribute exists necessarily and so no one can exist without the others. Thus, it is fair to say that even if his objection rests on a rather uncharitable reading, Bayle here puts his fi nger on an interpretive difficulty that remains unresolved.

Argument from Divine Goodness Finally, Bayle raises a moral objection to Spinoza’s system. Although not developed as carefully as one might like, the main thrust of Bayle’s argument is that if fi nite, produced objects, and more specifically human beings, are modes of the one substance God, then God is both the agent and subject of all moral evil: for one good thought the infi nite being will always have a thousand foolish, extravagant, impure, and abominable ones. It will produce in itself all the follies, all the dreams, all the fi lthiness, all the iniquities of the human race. It will not only be the efficient cause of them, but also the passive subject, the subject of inhesion [subjectum inhaesionis]. (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 261; P 311)

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Just as he previously argued that all predicates are truly predicated of substances, so Bayle maintains that, properly speaking, it is substances that both act and are acted upon. He writes: modes do nothing; and it is the substances alone that act and are acted upon. This phrase “the sweetness of honey pleases the palate,” is only true in so far as it signifies that the extended substance of which the honey is composed pleases the tongue. (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 261b; P 311–12)52 Thus, every action that common sense would take to be performed by one finite individual on another in fact has no other agent or patient than God himself. Hence the famous formula that according to Spinoza’s principles, we must say that “God modified into Germans has killed God modified into ten thousand Turks” (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 261b; P 312). The Argument from Divine Goodness is doubtless the most rhetorical and least compelling of Bayle’s objections. Bayle’s argument rests on the familiar claim that our clear and distinct idea of God includes sovereign perfection, and therefore supreme goodness, which is incompatible with moral evil. However, insofar as it is meant to point up an internal inconsistency in Spinoza’s system, the objection takes no account of Spinoza’s position concerning the relativity of values. In the Preface to Part IV of the Ethics, Spinoza maintains that “as far as good and evil are concerned, they also indicate nothing positive in things, considered in themselves, nor are they anything other than modes of thinking, or notions we form because we compare things to one another” (Geb II, 208; C 545). Bayle was hardly unaware of Spinoza’s moral relativism. Moreover, his own adherence to moral realism coupled with his ever-present concern with the issue of God’s relationship to evil, would seem to make this a rich topic for reflection.53 Yet, Bayle chooses not to pursue the issue in any serious way. Perhaps he found the claim that the good is nothing more than what one desires, or what can be known to be useful to oneself to be too obviously false to require argument. 54 Whatever the explanation, Bayle’s moral objection to Spinoza’s monism is largely a missed opportunity. 55

CONCLUSION At the heart of Bayle’s critique of Spinoza’s substance monism lies a deep disagreement concerning the nature of extended substance. While both agree that the extended plenum is infi nite and exists per se, for Bayle the plenum is an essentially composite entity that is nothing over and above the aggregation of its distinct parts. Moreover, while he appeals to mobility as the mark of divisibility, Bayle insists that the parts of extension are distinct

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prior to their actual separation by motion. Far from introducing diversity into the extended plenum, motion presupposes distinctness of parts. To be sure, these fundamental differences—to which one might add the defi nition of substance as that which exists without any subject of inherence—ensure that in some measure Bayle and Spinoza are talking past one another. Still, Bayle’s reading of Book I of the Ethics shows a good deal more subtlety than has been commonly allowed. Indeed, despite their lack of shared principles, Bayle’s objections successfully point up many of the interpretive issues that have occupied commentators for the past three hundred years. To that extent, the puzzles Bayle raises concerning Spinoza’s text have proved to be of remarkably enduring significance.

7

Mechanism and Natural Theology

In the preceding chapters we have looked in detail at Bayle’s position with respect to a number of central theses of Cartesian and Malebranchean metaphysics, including mind-body dualism, occasionalism, and the res extensa account of matter. In this fi nal chapter I take a somewhat broader view and consider Bayle’s assessment of Cartesianism taken as a system. Taking my cue from Bayle himself, I approach the issue through consideration of the promise and limits of mechanism. From the outset it must be acknowledged that Bayle’s limited competence in mathematical and experimental questions conspired to make of him a mere observer in the development of natural science. Still, Bayle’s views repay careful examination not only for what they reveal about the philosophical issues confronting mechanism at the close of the seventeenth century, but because Bayle is intensely interested in the rich implications the mechanist program holds for natural theology. The discussion is of particular interest since Bayle is led to assess the relative coherence of Malebranche’s metaphysical system vis-à-vis not only Aristotelianism and other Christian competitors, but also what Bayle dubs “Naturalism”—that is, a form of atheistic materialism. As I shall argue, the analysis holds deep implications for the global interpretation of Bayle’s thought.

BAYLE AND MECHANISM The mechanist program as it developed in the seventeenth century can be broadly defi ned in terms of its commitment to two fundamental theses. According to the fi rst, which we might call the Composition Thesis, the physical world is exhaustively constituted by fi nite bits of matter of various shapes, sizes, and states of motion and rest. The second, which I shall call the Explanatory Thesis, holds that a full account of all physical phenomena can be given in terms of the interactions of these bits of matter as governed by the general laws of motion. Descartes offers a concise formulation of the mechanist program in Le Monde where he asserts that all physical properties can be explained “without the need to suppose anything in their matter

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other than the motion, size, shape, and arrangement of its parts” (AT XI, 26; CSM I, 89). As we saw in Chapter 1 it was by Bayle’s own account Cartesian physics that earned his allegiance as a young professor of philosophy. This observation is borne out by his lectures on physics, which in spite of their Scholastic trappings show a decided preference for the fundamental principles of mechanism (OD IV, 279–86). Some years later, Bayle endorses the Composition Thesis with typical verve in a discussion of ancient atomism. He writes: The terms “madman,” “dreamer,” “visionary” are appropriate to anybody who claims that the fortuitous meetings of an infi nity of corpuscles has produced the world and is the continual cause of generations. But if one applies the same names to those who assert that the diverse combinations of atoms form all the bodies we see, one shows clearly that one has no taste and no idea of true physics. (DHC “Leucippe” rem. D, 100; P 127) Although the present passage does not suffice to make it clear, Bayle champions the Composition Thesis in its strictest form—that is, without appeal to such supplemental characteristics as solidity and gravitational force as irreducible qualities of body qua body.1 Indeed, Bayle identifies the fundamental error of Aristotelian physics as the abandonment of the view that all physical change is reducible to alterations of shape and motion in favor of an account of generation that countenances the production and annihilation of entities numerically distinct from their subject. 2 Underlying this judgment is Bayle’s hostility to what he takes to be the thoroughly discredited Scholastic theory of form. 3 Bayle’s arguments against substantial and accidental forms are largely inherited from the previous generation, notably Gassendi.4 However, Bayle’s tendency to favor certain kinds of argument is indicative of his preoccupation with the metaphysical foundations of mechanism. Thus, Bayle makes comparatively little of the alleged vacuity of Scholastic explanations, which were commonly portrayed as characterizing the explanans solely in terms of its power to bring about the explanadum. Instead, he chooses to lay stress on a pair of objections concerning the “production and nature” of forms. In a typical passage, Bayle rehearses a series of objections to substantial forms, including: that a substance distinct from matter is nevertheless material and only subsists dependently upon matter; that it is drawn out of the power of matter without having existed in it previously; that it is composed of neither matter nor any other preexisting thing, and that nevertheless it is not a created entity; fi nally, that without the assistance of an understanding [connoissance] that guides its operations, it produces the machine of animals and of plants. [The Aristotelians] maintain all these monstrous doctrines, after having been overwhelmed by objections by

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the likes of Father Maignan, Gassendi, etc. This is what astonishes. (DHC “Morin, Jean-Baptiste” rem. M, 430)5 The fi rst difficulty concerns the bringing into existence of substantial form by matter, which was said to occur by eduction. Although there was some disagreement on this issue, many late Scholastics, Suarez among them, maintained that substantial forms do not preexist in the matter from which they are educed.6 Nor were the resulting forms held to be composed out of this matter. On the contrary, the forms were taken to be really distinct from the matter they informed insofar as each was capable of existing independently of the other—if not in the order of nature, then at least by virtue of a miracle.7 For Bayle, it follows that these forms are entirely new entities that are derived from the power of matter, yet not composed of any previously existing entity.8 In sum, the eduction of forms from matter amounts to “a veritable creation” ex nihilo in the order of nature (OD IV, 281).9 Bayle’s second complaint focuses on the inability of insentient entities to act so as to bring about ends they do not intend. Behind this criticism lies the Cartesian reduction of fi nality to conscious, intentional thought. I shall have more to say about both arguments later. In the Systema Bayle wields a third argument against the Scholastic theory of form, a straightforward appeal to Occam’s Razor. If all physical phenomena can be adequately explained solely in terms of the shape, motion, and size of the particles of matter as governed by the general laws of motion, substantial forms will have been shown to be superfluous (OD IV, 279–80). If this argument drops out of his later writings, it is because Bayle came to harbor serious doubts about the explanatory resources of the mechanist program. Beginning in the Dictionnaire, Bayle offers a series of extended discussions of the mechanist project with respect to the formation of the cosmos, animal generation, and animal behavior. Not surprisingly, Bayle underscores the close connection between the adequacy of the physical laws of nature for explaining the formation and continued functioning of the material world and the prospect of rational knowledge of the existence and nature of God. It is to these discussions that I now turn.

FORMATION OF THE PHYSICAL UNIVERSE Perhaps nowhere were the implications of the new mechanist science for natural theology more in evidence than in Descartes’s claim that the unaided laws of motion acting on matter would suffice to produce the present state of the universe. In Le Monde, as in the Principles of Philosophy, Descartes describes the mechanical processes that might gradually give rise to vortices, planets, stars, comets, and other features of the cosmos. Although for convenience of exposition the Principles discussion begins with the presupposition that the extended plenum is divided into parts of roughly equal

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size, Descartes makes clear that no particular assumption concerning the initial state of matter is necessary for a mechanistic account of the formation of the cosmos. He writes: it makes very little difference what initial suppositions are made, since all subsequent change must occur in accordance with the laws of nature. And there is scarcely any supposition that does not allow the same effects . . . to be deduced in accordance with the same laws of nature. For by the operation of these laws matter must successively assume all the forms of which it is capable. (AT VIII, 103; CSM I, 257–58) Descartes famously treats his cosmogony as nothing more than a useful fiction, arguing that reason and revelation agree that the universe did not gradually evolve, but came into existence fully formed at the fi rst moment of creation. Still, he leaves no doubt that the interactions of lawfully governed matter in motion would eventually yield the present universe without direction of an intelligent being. Characteristically, Bayle approaches these matters obliquely. In a discussion of the poetic account of the formation of the world out of primordial chaos in the opening book of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Bayle distinguishes three main paths by which one might attempt to secure the existence of an immaterial God as cause of the physical universe. First, one could hold that matter cannot exist necessarily or a se and that every contingent being must have a cause of its existence. From this it could be argued that only by appeal to an immaterial being with the power of creation ex nihilo, can the existence of matter be explained.10 Second, one could hold that by its nature matter is inert, that is, without an inherent source of activity. From the presence of motion in matter one could then conclude to the existence of an immaterial fi rst cause. Finally, one could point to the existence of complex physical entities that exhibit an order or purpose that, it is claimed, can be explained only by appeal to an intelligent cause. Of course, these strategies are not mutually exclusive. Locke, for example, appeals to all three considerations in his discussion of our knowledge of the existence of God (Essay IV.iii.10). Nevertheless, Bayle insists that the three are not logically independent. For Bayle, God’s role as fi rst cause of motion and intelligent designer presupposes that he has created matter ex nihilo and that he continues to do so at each moment. Bayle writes: To reason correctly about the production of the world one must consider God as the author of matter and as the first and only principle of motion. If one cannot ascend to the idea of creation properly speaking, one cannot avoid all of the pitfalls, and one must . . . affi rm things with which our reason cannot be reconciled. For if matter existed of itself [par elle-même], we would not understand how God could have or should have given motion to it. (DHC “Ovide” rem. G, 557b)11

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According to Bayle, if God and matter are coeternal, existentially independent entities, it is a mistake to conceive God as having organized the world whether by imparting motion to a naturally inert matter or by directing its innate motion to bring about an orderly arrangement of its parts. Bayle focuses his discussion on the ancient philosophers, who were united in affi rming the necessary existence of matter based on a shared commitment to the impossibility of creation ex nihilo. Thus, as Bayle understands them, all ancient philosophers were committed to rejecting the fi rst of the three proofs of God’s existence. Nevertheless, some such as Anaxagoras, reserved for God the role of organizer of the physical universe, maintaining that God drew the parts of matter out of chaos, setting them in motion and arranging them so as to form the actual world. Bayle argues that any system that ascribes to God the task of altering the state of motion of an independently existing matter is beset by two difficulties. First, somewhat cryptically, Bayle suggests that the position is inconsistent, since on the one hand Anaxagoras holds that matter must be eternal on the grounds that creation ex nihilo is impossible, while on the other he allows that motion had a beginning. The two claims are inconsistent, since “the production of a quality that is distinct from its subject” constitutes an instance of creation ex nihilo (DHC “Anaxagoras” rem. G, 214a). Although it is not immediately obvious why a philosopher such as Anaxagoras should be committed to the claim that motion is a real quality distinct from its subject, perhaps we can make sense of Bayle’s complaint if we take him to be speaking not of motion as mere translatio, or local motion, but as motive force. This reading receives some measure of support from the sequel in which Bayle contrasts Anaxagoras’s position with the Cartesian conception of motion as occupation of contiguous locations over successive moments (ibid.). More importantly, Bayle argues that if God did not create matter ex nihilo it is impossible he should alter its natural state of motion or rest. The argument, which is familiar from the debate surrounding Cartesian mindbody interaction, rests on the principle that matter can be causally affected only by impulse. Now, Bayle takes the Cartesians to have demonstrated that an immaterial being is unextended and consequently not spatially located (DHC “Simonide” rem. F, 211; P 281–82). Therefore, an immaterial, transcendent God could not come into contact with physical objects, and so would be unable to alter their state of motion (DHC “Epicure” rem. S, 373a). More interestingly, perhaps, Bayle takes over a less well-known argument from Malebranche, according to which God must contain within himself the grounds of his knowledge.12 This is true not only in the case of necessary truths, which God knows by virtue of his ideas, but also of every contingent fact. According to Malebranche, if God did not have knowledge of matter by virtue of his own creative volitions, he could know of its existence and successive states only by means of some causal mechanism such as sense perception. Since, therefore, God is a purely active being that cannot be acted upon, if the existence and disposition of matter did not depend

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at each moment on God’s creative volition, he would lack all knowledge of its present state and so could play no causal role in moving or arranging its parts (DHC “Epicure” rem. T, 374; cf. OCM X, 97).13 Both difficulties, in Bayle’s view, can be met by proponents of the continuous creation account of occasionalism, according to which local motion is merely the re-creation of matter in contiguous locations over successive moments.14 The appeal to continuous creation solves the problem of explaining how motion can be created ex nihilo, since the act of creation is attributed not to the causal agency of fi nite objects, but to God himself. Moreover, by locating motive force exclusively in God, the account entails that the only kind of motion that can be truly ascribed to bodies, local motion, is a mode of material substance and so not really distinct from it. With regard to the second difficulty, the occasionalist thesis eliminates the problem of explaining how an immaterial substance can impart motion to bodies, since unlike impulsion, creation of matter does not require a cause that is spatially located. In sum, Bayle contends that the continuous creation account of causation is best able to secure an indispensable causal role for God with respect to the motion and organization of matter, and therefore offers the best and perhaps sole foundation for a rational proof of the existence of an immaterial, omnipotent God.15 Moreover, on the hypothesis of the eternity of matter, the intervention of a transcendent, immaterial being is not only metaphysically impossible, it plays no indispensable role in the scientific explanation of the formation of the cosmos. Following Descartes, Bayle maintains that if we once suppose matter in motion, the physical laws of nature suffice to explain the process by which a world such as ours could have been formed from an initially chaotic state. Bayle acknowledges that Descartes’s specific formulations of the laws of motion as well as his theory of vortices have been subject to searching criticism, especially by Newton. However, Bayle insists that Descartes’s general thesis that a handful of laws of motion would suffice to generate a world such as ours from chaotic matter in motion would not be disputed by Newton himself.16 As Bayle observes: Once you suppose bodies that are determined to move in straight lines and to tend either toward the center or the circumference whenever they are compelled by the resistance of other bodies to move in a circle, you establish a principle that of necessity will produce a great deal of variety in matter. If it does not produce this system, it will produce another. (DHC “Ovide” rem. G, 558a)17 Faced with the theological worries engendered by Descartes’s mechanist cosmogony, Bayle once again appeals to occasionalism to safeguard rational knowledge of the existence of God, arguing that Descartes’s position poses no serious problem for religion, since on the Cartesian view only God can execute the laws of nature (OD I, 368b).

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It is important to note that Bayle confi nes his discussion in “Ovide” to the basic elements of cosmological systems such as “hard and fluid bodies, cold and heat, opacity and diaphanousness, vortices, etc.” from which more complex physical entities take their rise. Bayle’s claim is that the formation of “this or that” world—by which he means the clustering of elements into planetary systems—is assured by the sole operation of lawfully governed matter in motion.18 It is in this context that we must read Bayle’s commentary on a passage from Guillaume Lamy, in which the French atomist defends the possibility of the world having arisen without intervention of an intelligent agent. Lamy considers the standard objection that it is far less probable that the actual world arose from the chance encounters of atoms than that a collection of letters thrown to the ground at random should produce the Iliad. Lamy points to a crucial dissimilarity between the two cases, arguing that the improbability of the latter is owing to the fact that the Iliad is a particular poem and so its production would require a specific arrangement of letters. By contrast, however unlikely it may be that the chance encounters of atoms should have produced the actual world, it is no less true that they must inevitably form some bodies, the collection of which would constitute a world.19 After rehearsing Lamy’s argument Bayle observes: there is no great necessity to go into all of this. We can grant [Lamy] part of his claims and at the same time deny that our world, in which there are so many things that are regular and that tend to certain ends, can be the result of chance. (DHC “Ovide” rem. G, 558b)20 According to Mori, the terseness of Bayle’s response in contrast to his ordinary “passion for dialectic” suggests that this “(non-)refutation cannot but appear suspect.”21 However, this is far from obvious. As Bayle understands it, Lamy’s claim is that “in order to make a world generally speaking—either this one or another—it is not necessary that the atoms collide and join together in a certain precise, unique and determinate manner. For, however they latch on to one another, they will necessarily form physical aggregates, and consequently a world.”22 Bayle is willing to concede that even in the absence of intelligent direction, mere matter in motion might produce a world in the general sense of a collection of compound physical objects. The question is whether such unguided mechanism could have produced the whole inventory of the actual world. As he had pointed out just a few paragraphs earlier, what remains unaccountable on the atomistic system is not the general frame of the cosmos, but that: chance could produce an assemblage of bodies such as our world in which there are so many things that endure for so long in their regularity, and so many animal machines much more fi nely wrought than

144 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics those produced by human art, which of necessity require intelligent direction. (Ibid.)23 For Bayle, then, it is not the formation of planets and vortices that poses the real challenge for mechanism; it is principally in the existence of living organisms that the difficulty lies.

ANIMAL GENERATION We have already seen in the last chapter that despite his clear-sighted appreciation of the philosophical and theological advantages of animal mechanism, Bayle could not bring himself to accept the Cartesian theory of bêtes machines. However, for Bayle, it is not only animal behavior that cannot be fully explained using the sole resources of mechanism. Plant and animal generation seemed equally to exceed its explanatory capacity. Indeed, on Bayle’s view, the latter poses a far greater challenge to the mechanist program, since the behavior of animals is “incomparably less wondrous than the industry required to construct their bodies” (OD III, 884b). 24 For Bayle, it is inconceivable that the unguided laws of motion should suffice to produce machines of the intricacy and complexity of animal bodies. He writes: No one hesitates to aver that motion could never produce a clock without the guidance of an individual intelligence. Consequently, those laws are incapable of producing the least plant or fruit. For, there is more artifice in the construction of a tree or a pomegranate than in that of a ship. (DHC “Caïnites” rem. D, 7b)25 Whereas his rejection of the bêtes machines was based in large measure on what he takes to be the “a priori implausibility” of mechanistic explanations of animal behavior, Bayle understands his denial of mechanistic accounts of animal generation to reflect the considered opinion of the leading natural philosophers of the day. He writes: Laws of motion, shape, rest, location of particles to your heart’s content. That is fi ne before you are forty years old. After that, you fi nd that the most excellent Cartesians confess confidentially that they are beginning to doubt the adequacy of their principles. (Ibid.)26 The allusion is undoubtedly to Malebranche, who had decisively broken with Descartes by denying that animal generation could be the work of the undirected laws of nature. For the Oratorian, the initial organization of living organisms is not the result of the interactions of homogenous matter governed by the general laws of motion. Rather, the foetus of every

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animal preexists in the egg from which it arises (OCM II, 340ff.; cf. OCM III, 217). Malebranche further hypothesizes that the female foetus may in turn harbor eggs, which themselves contain foetuses and so on to infi nity, so that every successive generation already exists in an organized, albeit undeveloped, state in the reproductive organs of the female (OCM I, 82). It follows from this so-called theory of emboîtement that, strictly speaking, there is no animal generation in the order of nature; what is commonly taken to be the coming into existence of a new plant or animal is merely the development of a preexisting organism. However, Malebranche insists that although the initial formation of animal bodies requires fi nal causes, the growth and development of the foetus is governed by purely mechanical processes. As Malebranche puts the point, “these simple and general laws are sufficient to cause all those wonderful works, all of which God formed in the fi rst days of the creation of the world, to grow insensibly and appear in due time” (OCM XII, 229; JS 175–76). In itself, then, Bayle’s worry concerning the resources of mechanism for explaining animal generation was not unique. Nor was the pessimism confi ned to Cartesian natural philosophers. Indeed, by the end of the seventeenth century, the rejection of mechanistic accounts of animal generation was sufficiently widespread to have some claim to scientific orthodoxy. Nevertheless, two crucial differences separate Malebranche’s views from the more extreme position adopted by Bayle. First, while Bayle allows that the Malebranchean hypothesis of preexistence “resolves the most difficult problems” surrounding the formation of animals, it leaves, in his estimation, several others wholly intact (OD III, 892b). Chief among these is the apparent difficulty of accounting for even the growth and development of organisms without appeal to fi nal causes. Alluding once again to Malebranche, Bayle writes: I know of learned men who boast that they understand how the general laws of the communication of motion, however simple, and however few in number, suffice to make a fetus grow, provided that it is already organized. But I admit my feebleness; I cannot understand this. . . . If these two things are equally difficult, why should we believe that the laws of motion, which are incapable of organizing a point of matter, should have the power to convert it into a vastly larger animal, if they fi nd it already organized . . . ? (DHC “Sennert, Daniel” rem. C, 190b)27 Bayle is sufficiently convinced of the impossibility of accounting for even the development of embryonic matter using the sole resources of mechanism that he is willing to hazard the prediction that some sort of immaterial being may ultimately have to be recognized as the cause of animal organisms. Here again, Bayle’s position is hardly idiosyncratic, even if it is, by his own account, the minority view (DHC “Anaxagoras” rem. G, viii, 214b).

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Throughout the second half of the seventeenth century and well into the eighteenth, many prominent biologists felt compelled to posit some kind of immaterial entity to explain embryonic development.28 Still, such a radical limitation of the mechanist program was unacceptable to Malebranche himself, who by positing the preexistence of every descendent in the egg of the fi rst female of each species, effectively packs all requisite design into the initial moment of creation. But, of course, creation itself is not subject to the laws of nature; it is that by which the natural order is established. Thus, despite his reintroduction of finality into natural philosophy, Malebranche could plausibly claim to have preserved the guiding assumption of the scientific enterprise, namely, that the laws of nature are by themselves sufficient to explain every physical phenomenon at every noninitial moment of the universe. A second difference separating Bayle from Malebranche, is that for the latter, the need to appeal to design in the case of animal generation is largely owing to our inability to conceive how the laws of motion might simultaneously bring into existence all of the interdependent biological systems upon which the life of an organism depends (OCM II, 343–44). Malebranche insists that unlike the Cartesian account of the cosmos, the various functional systems of an organism cannot gradually come into existence, since each requires for its proper functioning that all of the others be already in operation. 29 By contrast, the considerations that lead Bayle to reject mechanist accounts of animal generation are of a more general order. For Bayle it is the mutual adaptation and harmonious functioning of parts combined with the sheer complexity of the animal bodies that cast doubt on every conceivable mechanist explanation. The neglect of Malebranche’s specific argument at the expense of a more general consideration concerning the complexity of living organisms helps to confi rm Bayle in the conviction that development is no less difficult to explain than generation, neither of which can be accounted for without appeal to an intelligent designer. As Bayle puts the point: what is needed here is a cause that has an idea of its work [ouvrage], and which knows the means by which to construct it. All of that is necessary to those who make a watch or a ship. All the more so must it be present in that which organizes living beings. (DHC “Sennert, Daniel” rem. C, 190b)30 It is at this point that Bayle parts company with the biologists of the day, for he fi nds no other resource than to appeal to the direction of certain disembodied mental substances, or intelligences, charged with overseeing the formation and development of both plants and animals. He writes: Among [the Cartesians], the one who has best turned to advantage the volontés simples et générales of God very clearly insinuates that there

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are a large number of occasional causes that are unknown to us. Now, these occasional causes are nothing other than the volitions and desires of certain angels [intelligences]. These must be posited wherever the laws of the communication of motion are not capable of producing certain effects. (DHC “Caïnites” rem. D, 7b)31 The suggestion is that just as God has established certain psychophysical laws of nature that make human volitions the occasional causes of voluntary motions of the body, so too has God established general laws of nature that make angelic volitions occasional causes of motion in, for example, a fertilized egg. Malebranche had raised the possibility of a set of general laws governing angelic volitions only in the order of grace.32 Malebranche invokes the hypothesis in the Dernier Eclaircissement of the Traité de la Nature et de la Grâce in an attempt to show that the miraculous events related in the Old Testament do not require God to have acted by particular volitions (OCM V, 197–206). Malebranche goes on to sketch one means by which God might bring about such supernatural events while acting strictly by general volitions. Bayle here exploits what in Malebranche is a theological hypothesis concerning God’s causal activity in the order of grace and presses it into service to resolve what he takes to be a fundamental philosophical problem in the order of nature. Needless to say, it is disconcerting to fi nd Bayle, the outspoken critic of substantial forms, “peddling angelology” to use Lennon’s apt phrase.33 In fairness, it should be pointed out that Bayle never offers an unconditional endorsement of the view, but merely suggests that of the available alternatives, the theory of intelligences is the most attractive. Be that as it may, nowhere is Bayle further from the modern scientific worldview than in putting forward—however tentatively—the need for celestial intelligences to supply the explanatory deficiencies of the physical laws of nature. Still, it is worth pausing over the considerations that push Bayle toward this already anachronistic position as they shed a good deal of light on what he takes to be the chief difficulties confronting the mechanist program at the close of the seventeenth century. One way to bring out the various pressures on Bayle’s thought is to ask how one can consistently reject substantial forms and other Scholastic faculties while maintaining that complex physical phenomena must ultimately be explained by the intervention of certain celestial intelligences. The suggestion is all the more puzzling in that Bayle claims to be moved in part by the metaphilosophical principle that to appeal to God as the immediate cause of phenomena is not to philosophize (DHC “Anaxagoras” rem. R, 217–18; DHC “Sennert, Daniel” rem. C, 191a). On what grounds, one might reasonably ask, is an appeal to the volitions of angels permissible? Is this not the very sort of supernaturalistic explanation that the principle proscribes? For Bayle the widespread agreement that the laws of mechanism alone cannot account for such orderly effects as the organization of

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homogenous matter into animal bodies implies that we must readmit fi nal causes into natural philosophy. Reflecting on the biological debate between preformation and preexistence theories of animal generation, Bayle maintains that this can be accomplished in one of two ways: either by positing in organisms an immaterial principle capable of acting to achieve certain complex ends or by holding with Malebranche, Leibniz, and others that organisms exist preorganized in the seed.34 However, as we have seen, the latter fails to address all of the deficiencies of mechanist explanations. As a result, Bayle sees no credible alternative to positing created, immaterial entities as the immediate causes of animal organisms. Now, one obvious candidate for such entities is substantial forms. However, these are subject to a number of insoluble difficulties. Following Malebranche, Bayle argues that we have no clear and distinct idea of such entities. More importantly, as we have seen, Bayle repeatedly insists that the process of eduction by which substantial forms are produced amounts to a creation ex nihilo in the order of nature (OD III, 788a).35 Moreover, Bayle endorses the claim that fi nality—the capacity to act so as to bring about certain ends—can be understood only in terms of intentionality, which is itself exclusively and irreducibly mental. 36 This equation can be seen, for example, in Bayle’s rejection of the Scholastic notion of exigentia: only mental entities have an inclination toward one state rather than another (OD IV, 280a).37 Therefore, since substantial forms lack the capacity to form an idea of the putative ends they strive to achieve, the Scholastic theory is incoherent. 38 Indeed, it is presumably because of their character as nonmental fi nal causes that Bayle insists we can form no clear idea of them. Finally, as I argued earlier, Bayle insists on the metaphysical impossibility of an immaterial substance imparting motion to bodies except by means of continuous creation. Hence, he sees no other solution than intelligences whose desires serve as occasional causes of God’s causal activity in the physical realm. Given the blind alley this view represents for the natural sciences, it is reasonable to ask whether Bayle’s discussion might not better be taken as ironic. Mori suggests we read Bayle’s invocation of intelligences as a sardonic denunciation of the move to abandon mechanistic explanations on the grounds that this will inevitably lead to the rehabilitation of substantial forms. According to Mori, Bayle’s point is that “any weakening with respect to mechanism would lead us to accept a throng of intelligences moyennes, angels, genies, demons to explain every phenomenon in which we fi nd any order whatsoever.”39 Yet, despite the undeniable appeal of reading Bayle so as to return him to the fold of modern scientific thought, there is no compelling reason not to take him at his word. Bayle agrees, indeed insists, that the laws of mechanism cannot account for the formation of a foetus. Moreover, on Mori’s reading, Bayle’s criticisms would be misplaced, since as I have argued Malebranche does not abandon the view that after the initial moment of creation all physical phenomena can be explained in mechanist terms. On the contrary, it is Bayle who does so by insisting on

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the inadequacy of the laws of motion to explain animal development. Nor can Bayle’s argument be read as a reductio ad absurdum of the principle by which Malebranche rejects mechanistic accounts of animal generation, since Malebranche bases his claim on a specific argument concerning the functional interdependence of biological systems that is in no way generalizable to the case of animal growth and development. Mori’s principal evidence for reading the appeal to intelligences as ironic is that Bayle characterizes a similar view—that of Jean-Baptiste Morin—as “surrounded by difficulties” (DHC “Morin, Jean-Baptiste” rem. M, 430a). However, closer examination reveals crucial differences that are the source of these difficulties. Briefly, Morin holds that the organization and development of animal organisms are brought about by their individual substantial forms. To be sure, Morin maintains that these forms are created at the beginning of the world and endowed with the intelligence necessary to produce organized bodies, thereby sidestepping two of Bayle’s principal objections to the standard Scholastic theory of form. However, in Bayle’s view, it is precisely the attribution of knowledge to the substantial forms of animals that vitiates Morin’s solution. For Bayle, it is not credible that the form of a larva or a mustard seed should possess the knowledge required to construct a machine of such complexity as a living organism. He writes: Is one in possession of common sense who maintains that an animal has the intelligence [lumieres] necessary to convert drops of blood into a machine whose organs are almost infi nite in number and inspire awe by their symmetry [and] variety . . . ? (OD I, 393a)40 Moreover, Morin’s hypothesis is contrary to experience, since he can offer no plausible explanation for why the soul does not retain its detailed physiological knowledge (DHC “Sennert, Daniel” rem. C, 191a). The problem is particularly acute in our own case, since according to the tradition, the human soul is the form of the body. As a result, Morin must hold that the human mind is possessed of the requisite knowledge to assemble our bodies, and Bayle takes it to be known by introspection that this is not the case (OD I, 393a).

PLASTIC NATURES To be sure, it is not uncommon for Bayle to criticize a view on the grounds that it makes room for the return of Scholastic forms. In Bayle’s view, “the fate of physics would be deplorable if we had to admit that we hadn’t conclusively refuted substantial forms, et al.” (OD III, 883b).41 However, his concern is not with the alleged capacity of substantial forms to act for ends per se, but with the fact that they are nonmental entities acting for ends. Perhaps the most familiar instance of this line of criticism concerns the

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theory of plastic natures advanced by Ralph Cudworth and championed by Jean Le Clerc. Cudworth, who shared Descartes’s conception of matter as inert, impenetrable extension, argued that neither the general laws of motion nor occasionalism can provide an adequate account of the causal structure of the universe.42 Cudworth posited the existence of an immaterial, living entity endowed with a vital force that is responsible for the organization of complex material systems such as animal bodies. These plastic natures were characterized as insentient beings devoid of understanding and reason, yet capable of acting for ends “artificially”—that is, without intending the ends for which they act. Although he conceives of these entities as lacking consciousness, Cudworth characterizes them as essentially mental entities, since in his view “mind and understanding is the only cause of orderly regularity, and a plastic nature is mental causality.”43 As Susan Rosa summarizes the view, a plastic nature is “a creative spiritual force which, while lacking any will of its own, or consciousness of its operations, acts purposefully to execute laws and commands prescribed to it by the Divine Intellect.”44 Bayle never criticizes plastic natures on the grounds that they introduce fi nal causes into physics. Rather his complaint is that as characterized they cannot perform their appointed task and therefore are explanatorily idle. Indeed, such entities are worse than useless, since if one is prepared to countenance entities that act for an end without knowledge of that end or the means by which it can be achieved, the design argument is undermined. According to Bayle, such a view threatens to vitiate the inference from the beauty, order, and harmony of the world to the existence of a God who oversaw its production. He writes: Nothing is more embarrassing for the atheists than to fi nd themselves reduced to attributing the formation of animals to a cause that has no idea of what it does, and that regularly executes a plan without knowing the laws it executes. However, the plastic form of M. Cudworth and the vital principle of M. Grew are in the same situation, and thus they rob this objection to the atheists of all of its force. (OD III, 217a)45 Although he is not always careful to distinguish them, Bayle’s understanding of the Argument from Design is based on two alleged impossibilities. The fi rst concerns the observed regularity of nature. According to Bayle, the uniform behavior of physical objects can be explained only in terms of laws of nature, which in turn presuppose sentient beings that can grasp the propositional content of such laws and regulate their behavior in conformity with it. As Bayle repeatedly insists, to promulgate a law to an insentient being is equivalent to having made no law whatsoever. For Bayle, the force of the Argument from Design lies in the fact that those who reject the need for an intelligent principle must “attribute the production of a work in which the subordination and regularity are so visible to causes that know

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nothing.”46 In sum, Bayle appeals to the Quod Nescis Argument that I have analyzed in Chapter 4. To this nomological component of the Argument from Design, Bayle adds the classic teleological consideration, according to which an undirected, insentient being could not give rise to the complex, orderly, and harmonious effects we observe in nature. According to the second consideration, the laws of nature alone are insufficient to bring about the natural order, whereas according to the fi rst, such laws cannot be executed by other than an intelligent agent. Thus, as Bayle understands it, the Argument from Design relies on the premise that “a being who does not know what it does, nor the plan that it must fulfill, nor the goal for which it must aim could make nothing regular.”47 The appeal to plastic natures undermines the validity of the inference, by attributing to these unconscious substances the causal power to organize matter, while at the same time denying them knowledge of both the object to be constructed and the means of carrying out its organization. For Bayle, the theory of plastic natures effects a conceptual divorce between the capacity to produce complex effects, characterized by regularity, and order and the need for an intelligent designer, thereby destroying the analogy upon which the design argument is based. Thus, Bayle explicitly points out that the appeal to génies could help to insulate the design argument from the otherwise telling reply that such complex effects as living organisms are not produced by an efficient cause that possesses detailed knowledge of animal physiology (OD III, 334a; cf. OD III, 890–93).

STRATO AND MATERIALISTIC ATHEISM Thus, the picture of Malebranche’s occasionalist Cartesianism that emerges from the Dictionnaire is of a metaphysical system unrivaled among orthodox Christianity for its internal consistency and ability to accommodate the truths of rational theology. Of course, this is not to say that the system is entirely free of difficulties. If the hypothesis of continuous creation is alone able to secure an indispensable role for a transcendent God in the existence and continued functioning of the physical universe, it remains the case that creation ex nihilo is itself inconceivable, since it violates the selfevident metaphysical principle, ex nihilo nihil fit.48 Moreover, as we saw in Chapter 4, Bayle sees no way to reconcile occasionalism with freedom of indifference in creatures. As a result, Malebranche’s account of causation threatens to rob human beings of their moral agency and to place full responsibility for evil on God. In an important discussion in the Continuation des pensées diverses (1704) Bayle considers once again the possibility of achieving knowledge of the existence and nature of God through unaided reason. Published just two years prior to his death, Bayle’s intricate, guarded treatment of the relative coherence of orthodox Christianity and materialistic atheism is the

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deepest—and boldest—analysis he would offer on the question. The work takes the form of a defense of the Pensées diverses sur la comète (1682) against the objections of his erstwhile colleague and mentor, Pierre Jurieu. Among the so-called paradoxes advanced by Bayle in that earlier work was the claim that idolatry is more abhorrent to God than atheism. Jurieu had objected to this thesis on the grounds that having been shorn of false conceptions of the divinity, an atheist could more readily be persuaded of religious orthodoxy than an adherent of paganism. Bayle seizes the occasion afforded by Jurieu’s reply to consider whether an atheistic philosopher could be rationally compelled to accept the metaphysical account of God embraced by orthodox Christianity. As a preliminary, Bayle sketches the main lines of what he takes to be the most philosophically coherent atheistic system, a position he ascribes to the Aristotelian philosopher Strato. According to this view, which Bayle dubs Naturalism, the fi rst cause of the universe is an eternal and necessarily existing nature that produces motion in bodies according to necessary and immutable laws.49 This nature is the imminent cause of its effects, which it produces without knowledge or design (OD III, 312b). For Strato, as for Spinoza, the world is the result of neither chance nor the free choice of an intelligent creator but is produced by a nature that acts necessarily and eternally (DHC “Spinoza” rem. A, 253). Although willing to consider this fi rst cause divine, Strato denies it both transcendence and providence (OD III, 294a). For his purposes, Bayle takes it as a matter of indifference whether this divine nature is a single being distinct from and diffused throughout the whole of matter or is simply a logical abstraction from the intrinsic active powers of individual bodies. However, Bayle insists that like all ancient philosophers, Strato considers the fi rst cause to be an essentially extended being and consequently a composite of distinct substances. From this Bayle concludes, by a pattern of reasoning similar to the Achilles, that “no faculty [vertu] of God exists anywhere in its entirety” and that consequently Strato’s fi rst cause is not a fit object of religion (OD III, 330b). The question Bayle poses is whether a philosopher who subscribes to this account of the deity could be convinced on purely philosophical grounds to abandon the position in favor of the orthodox conception of God as a simple, immaterial being who knows everything by a simple act of understanding, who created the universe ex nihilo by a free act of will, and who continues to govern it providentially. 50 At the outset, Bayle considers two main objections that could be brought by a defender of orthodox Christianity. First, it is incomprehensible that an imperfect, limited being such as Strato’s material God should exist a se— that is, independently of any cause.51 Second, it is incomprehensible that nature acting without knowledge of its effects or the means by which they can be produced should be responsible for the order and regularity exhibited by, for example, plants and animal bodies. To anticipate, Bayle will argue that the fi rst objection fails and that as a result the whole question of

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the tenability of materialistic atheism turns on the cogency of the second. Mori has argued that the upshot of Bayle’s confrontation of the two views is that all Christian philosophers, even Malebranche, must acknowledge that their own system inevitably runs afoul of the very metaphysical principles underlying their most plausible objections to Strato. As a result, materialistic atheism emerges unscathed. Indeed, insofar as it is not subject to the difficulties attending orthodox Christianity, Strato’s Naturalism proves to be philosophically “superior.”52 To assess this claim, let us consider in turn Bayle’s treatment of the two objections. The fi rst objection is based on the principle that only a perfect and unlimited being can exist a se. From this it is argued that the existence of matter, which is both imperfect in nature and limited in its attributes, must be contingent. Now, because every contingent being must have a cause of its existence, it is argued that matter must have been brought into existence by a numerically distinct cause—that is, created ex nihilo by a transcendent, immaterial being. Bayle introduces this fi rst argument against the followers of Strato as follows: I can scarcely see but one good philosophical path for their conversion. That is, to begin by laying down the principle that nothing imperfect can exist of itself [de soi-même], and to conclude from that that because matter is imperfect, it does not exist necessarily, and that therefore it was produced out of nothing, [and] therefore there is an infinite power, a supremely perfect being that created it. (OD III, 333a)53 Bayle canvasses several considerations in favor of the inference from aseity to supreme perfection, two of which merit brief mention. First, it might be argued that a being can be limited only by an external cause; nothing is of its very nature self-limiting. However, in the case of a being a se, there can be no externally imposed limits, since by defi nition such a being exists independently of any external cause. Therefore, of necessity, that which exists a se is unlimited.54 Second, it bespeaks greater power for a thing to bring itself into existence than to cause itself to possess any given quality. Therefore, a being capable of conferring existence upon itself would endow itself with every conceivable perfection, and so would be perfect and unlimited.55 This latter argument, of course, had been put forward by Descartes as part of his proof of God’s existence in the Third Meditation in order to block the suggestion that the meditator himself might be the cause of his own existence. 56 Bayle contends that the inference from aseity to supreme perfection fails as an objection to Strato, because it can be retorted back against the Christian philosophers. As Bayle understands their position, God is a being that exists a se, and yet one that by its very nature is subject to various limitations. Bayle observes that it is a commonplace of Christian theology that God cannot do what involves a contradiction, nor can he violate the essences

154 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics of things. God cannot, for example, create a square circle or bring it about that the shortest distance between two points is other than a straight line. Nor can he choose to die or to act unjustly. Thus, Bayle maintains, orthodox Christians must admit that a necessarily existing being can be subject to limitations by its very nature, thereby undermining the central premise of their fi rst objection. Of course, theologians had long maintained that the inability to create a square circle does not constitute a genuine limitation of God’s power on the grounds that it is no part of the essence of omnipotence to be able to bring about that which is logically impossible. Bayle responds that these limitations are nonetheless real insofar as “a cause that could form such a circle would be more powerful and more skillful than one that cannot” (OD III, 347b). I shall return to this point presently. Thus, Bayle maintains that orthodox Christians are in no position to object to the limited and imperfect nature of Strato’s fi rst cause. However, in Bayle’s view, the materialistic atheist has available a more powerful reply than a simple retorsion, or argument ad hominem, against the inference from aseity to supreme perfection.57 As Bayle sees it, the main thrust of the objection is that Strato can offer no explanation why his necessarily existing being is of limited perfection and virtue, or to put the point somewhat differently, why it has only certain perfections and not others. However, Bayle suggests that Strato could plausibly respond that: he was not obligated to offer any explanation of what was asked of him, that if Nature had been produced by an efficient cause, the question could have been put to him, and he would have been able to consult the ideas of this efficient cause [to determine] why Nature was this way and not that way. But in the case of a being that exists of itself, that was not made according to any plan, any idea, any exemplary cause, it would be wrong to ask, why is it this way and not that way? The fi rst cause is the non plus ultra of all our speculations. There is neither explanation [raison] nor cause beyond the fi rst being. (OD III, 342a; Bayle’s emphasis)58 Bayle speaks somewhat misleadingly of this defense as “the last asylum of ignorance.” However, his point is not the epistemological one that the human mind necessarily lacks the acuity to formulate a rational explanation of the nature and essence of the fi rst principle. Rather, his claim is that in the case of the necessarily existing fi rst cause there is no further reason or explanation to be had; it is here that all rational explanation comes to an end. As Bayle puts the point elsewhere, “when an uncreated thing is such and such, it cannot be asked why it is that way. That is its nature. One must necessarily stop there” (DHC “Pauliciens” rem. H, 631b; P 187). Thus, in Bayle’s view, the objection to Strato is misplaced in that it demands an explanation for what is and must be without explanation, namely, the nature of the fi rst cause. 59

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As early as 1679 in the Objections to Poiret, Bayle had criticized the inference from aseity to supreme perfection, claiming that the argument would be sound only if, per impossibile, we could conceive of the necessarily existing being as bringing itself into existence as a result of a free act of will. In such a case, we could—at least in principle—seek an explanation of God’s nature in his own self-creating volition. However, Bayle insists that God does not exist by virtue of a free choice, nor is he the cause of his own essence. Rather, the necessity of both his existence and essence can only be attributed to the “nature of things.” Bayle writes: But if God exists by an ineluctable necessity, and not by virtue of a choice . . . why should we not say that the nature of things, which determined that certain beings should exist, necessarily determined that these beings were of this kind rather than another? Therefore, it was not in the power of God’s free will to give itself such and such perfection, but it was the nature of things that has determined this? (OD IV, 153a)60 For Bayle, there is no logical or metaphysical connection between existence a se and supreme perfection or infi nitude. It follows that the possibility of an eternal uncreated matter cannot be ruled out—a conclusion he does not fail to draw: “Similarly, if matter is supposed to exist a se, to one who would ask why it is not simple, indivisible, intelligent, and why its power is not unlimited, it could be replied: such is its nature.”61 To ask why an uncaused being has the characteristics that it does is to ask why it has the essence that it does. But because essences are not made according to an archetype, there can be no answer to this question. It is as if we were to ask why extended matter should have precisely three dimensions. The only possible reply is “such is its nature.”62 However, this reply suggests a means by which a Christian philosopher might seek to avoid Strato’s retorsion. As we have seen, the tradition recognizes that God’s power is subject to limits that have not been set by his own volitions. That is, God has not freely chosen to have a nature subject to these constraints. On the contrary, the extent and limit of his power are determined, on Bayle’s view, by the same inexplicable “nature of things” to which the Stratonicians attribute the existence and nature of matter, since the eternal essences that even God cannot violate exist independently of his will. However, Bayle suggests that one could maintain that these essences are freely established by an act of divine will. In other words, one could embrace the Cartesian doctrine of the creation of the eternal truths. A philosopher willing to follow Descartes on this point could maintain that “God can create a square circle when he wishes” and that as a result the only limits to which he is subject are those that he himself has freely chosen to observe (OD III, 348a). Such a philosopher could consistently maintain that only a supremely perfect and unlimited being can exist a se, thereby avoiding Strato’s ad hominem retorsion.

156 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics However, Bayle makes clear on more than one occasion that, on his view, the doctrine of the creation of the eternal truths is unacceptable. For Bayle, the fi rst principles of morals and metaphysics are true independently of God’s volitions. It is especially in the ethical domain that Bayle finds troubling the extreme voluntarism endorsed by Descartes. For, Bayle takes the Cartesian account to imply that God could have chosen, for example, to make hatred of the divinity morally good—a possibility that Bayle categorically rejects. He writes: If to do no harm to anyone were a good action not in itself, but by an arbitrary disposition of God’s will, it would follow that God could have given humankind a law directly opposed on every point to the commandments of the Decalogue. That is horrifying. (OD III, 409b)63 Bayle also offers a “more direct” argument for the same conclusion. Let us grant that God exists not by virtue of an act of his will, but by the necessity of his nature. Now, God’s attributes, including his power and knowledge, exist by the same necessity, since these attributes are not really distinct from the divine substance. It follows, Bayle maintains, that God’s knowledge is not the effect of his will, but rather is coeternal with it. Therefore, the essences that serve as the objects of God’s knowledge of necessary truths must likewise be independent of his will. In short, it is God’s nature that determines his understanding, not vice versa. Thus, despite its real advantages for natural theology, the Cartesian doctrine of eternal truths must be rejected. As a result, Bayle judges the fi rst objection to Strato’s atheistic materialism a failure, since the argument is unsound, and in any case, it cannot be advanced by orthodox Christian philosophers without inconsistency. The second objection to Naturalism is based on the order, symmetry, and regularity of the universe—in short, the Argument from Design. Bayle introduces the argument as: the proof that fi rst presents itself, and that is at bottom truly excellent, that is the one that is based on the beauty and regularity of the heavens, and on the obvious industry in animal machines, in which we see manifestly that the parts are directed to certain ends and made for one another. (OD III, 333b)64 As I argued earlier, the principle upon which Bayle’s formulation of the design argument rests concerns the impossibility of orderly, regular, and mutually adapted effects arising from a cause that has no knowledge of what it produces. As Bayle puts the point: It seems to me that there was nothing more confounding for a Stratonician philosopher than to be told that a cause that lacks knowledge

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could not have made this world, in which there is such a beautiful order, an exact mechanism, and laws of motion so fitting and constant. (OD III, 334a)65 In assessing the cogency of this line of argument as an objection to Strato, Bayle’s strategy once again is to ask whether Naturalist philosophers could retort the argument back on their philosophical opponents. Bayle opens the discussion by repeating his claim that no one who accepts the existence of substantial forms, plastic natures, or other insentient fi nal causes in the order of nature can consistently press the design argument against Strato, since these philosophers are committed to the view that order and regularity can result from causes that lack knowledge of their effects and of the means to produce them. Only the Cartesian occasionalist who ascribes all real causal efficacy to God is immune to this ad hominem reply (OD III, 334a). Yet, the rejection of real secondary causes fails to settle the question, since the worry can be raised with respect to the nature of the fi rst cause itself. That is, the Naturalist can argue that the God of orthodox Christianity is an immaterial mind that exhibits the same characteristics of regularity, organizational complexity, and mutual adaptation, which proponents of the design argument contend can be explained only by appeal to an intelligent cause. Yet, by hypothesis, the Christian God exists a se; there is no archetypal cause by which he has been produced. Therefore, the order and regularity exhibited by the divine intellect must be the result of blind necessity.66 Before turning to the fi rst cause of orthodox Christianity, Bayle illustrates the Naturalist’s retorsion with regard to Plato, for whom God is also a necessarily existing immaterial mind (OD III, 335a). Bayle portrays Strato as demanding of his Platonic opponent whether the Forms exist independently of God’s mind. If they do: here are things that, without depending on any directing or living cause, have each of them their respective qualities—the one represents a human being, the other a horse, etc. . . . Whence could these differences, relations and subordinations arise, if it were true, as you maintain, that no insentient cause is capable of producing anything in which there is proportion or direction towards a certain end? (OD III, 335a)67 On this alternative, Strato could maintain that the Forms themselves constitute a necessarily existing system that exhibits order, symmetry, and directedness without having been produced by an intelligent agent. If, on the other hand, the Platonist responds that the Forms are created by God in conformity with the ideas in his own mind, then the same objection can be pressed against God’s ideas themselves (OD III, 335a). Nor can it be said that God is the free cause of his own ideas and that, therefore, their order and adaptation to ends are the result of divine volition. For, as

158 Pierre Bayle’s Cartesian Metaphysics we have seen, Bayle maintains that God’s knowledge of eternal truths is not the result of his volition, but is identical to and so coeternal with the divine substance.68 Thus, all Christian philosophers, even those who, like Malebranche, deny the real efficacy of secondary causes, must recognize that a system exhibiting order, harmony, and adaptation can arise from the unguided necessity of “the nature of things.” As Bayle puts the point at the culmination of his discussion: if there are propositions that are eternally true by their own nature, and not by God’s institution, if they are not true by a free decree of his will . . . it follows that in its infinite ideas, the divine understanding always and from the outset discovered [rencontré] their perfect conformity with their objects, without being directed by any knowledge. For it would be a contradiction [to maintain that] an exemplary cause had served as a model for the acts of God’s understanding. (OD III, 348a)69 As a result, neither objection, in the hands of the Christian philosophers, succeeds as a criticism of Strato’s Naturalism. Nevertheless, I believe it would be rash to conclude with Mori that the upshot of Bayle’s discussion is that materialistic atheism is the most defensible of philosophical systems, and that the Naturalists “emerge victorious from the combat.”70 Because I cannot enter here into the extraordinarily complex interpretive question of Bayle’s ultimate attitude toward atheism and fideism, I shall restrict myself to considering his assessment of materialistic atheism as a philosophical system. To understand the implications of Bayle’s confrontation of Strato’s Naturalism and orthodox Christianity, it is important to emphasize the parameters that Bayle established for his discussion. Bayle imagines a philosophical dispute between two dogmatic philosophers, the one an adherent of materialistic atheism and the other a defender of orthodox Christianity. The question Bayle poses is whether the Naturalist philosopher could be compelled to abandon his position in favor of a conception of God as an immaterial, free creator of the universe. Now, in a clear allusion to its violation of the Quod Nescis principle, Bayle characterizes Strato’s position as subject to objections that admit of no solution. He writes: The incomprehensible views with which Strato can be taxed form an insoluble argument, an insurmountable difficulty. . . . That is why I embraced the Cartesian hypothesis that God is the unique and immediate author of all local motion. To make laws of motion and to give them to an insentient Nature to be executed is all the same as to make no laws at all and to will that nothing move. (OD III, 341b)71 To be sure, Bayle goes on to argue that the objection to Strato can be retorted back against his Christian opponents. Moreover, Bayle goes out of

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his way to defend the rationality of those who refuse to abandon a position in the face of an unanswerable objection, if all of the the alternative views are subject to the same difficulty. According to Bayle, to change allegiance in such a case would be irrational (or at least rationally unmotivated) since it would amount to abandoning one system for another that is equally problematic with respect to the issue at hand.72 As a result, a Christian philosopher cannot convict of obstinacy or irrationality a materialistic atheist who refuses to recognize the existence of a supremely perfect fi rst cause. But it does not follow that the objection is of no force absolutely speaking. On the contrary, unlike the necessary existence objection, which can be not only retorted back but dissolved, the Quod Nescis difficulty cannot be resolved, but only retorted back against its Christian proponents. As a result, there is nothing in Bayle’s discussion to suggest that Naturalism is an acceptable philosophical system, given that it violates an évident principle of metaphysics. Moreover, in Bayle’s view, Naturalism is subject to several other philosophical difficulties. Chief among them is its rejection of mind-body dualism. As we saw in Chapter 2, Bayle denies that mental properties are either ontologically reducible to physical ones or are capable of belonging to a material substance. That is, Bayle rejects both Strong and Weak Materialism. Indeed, the claim that only immaterial substance can possess the faculty of thinking is “one of the strongest arguments that can be raised against the Naturalists” (OD III, 342b). Bayle insists that although the argument from the impossibility of thinking matter can be retorted back against Scholastic philosophers, who ascribe to animals a material soul capable of sensation and even rudimentary reasoning, the Cartesians are immune to such an ad hominem attack.73 For this reason, Bayle portrays Strato as countering the objection by appeal to the problem of evil, a difficulty to which his deterministic materialism is not subject. To be sure, Bayle acknowledges that “there are no more frightful objections than those that a Stratonician would draw from the moral and physical evil that obtain among men.”74 Yet, it remains the case that the philosophical difficulties that attend any materialist account of mind are such that a Naturalist “has no valid reply” (OD III, 343a). A second difficulty confronting Naturalism stems from its ascription of a faculty of self-motion to material substances, a position that Bayle judges contrary to the essence of matter. As Bayle puts the point: It is as difficult to conceive of this power [i.e., self-motion] in an atom as to conceive of its having sensation. Extension and solidity make up the whole nature of an atom according to our ideas of it. The power of self-motion is not contained in that idea. It is something that our ideas fi nd alien and extrinsic to bodies and extension, just as knowledge is. (DHC “Leucippe” rem. L, 101b; Bayle’s emphasis)

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Although he is here arguing against Leucippus’s atomism, Bayle’s point applies equally to proponents of the physical plenum. For Bayle, the essence of matter is exhausted by its being an extended, and consequently impenetrable, being. Our concept of matter makes no provision for its possession of intrinsic active force. On balance, then, the best reading of Bayle’s discussion of Strato’s Naturalism would seem to be that, like orthodox Christianity, it is subject to several insoluble philosophical difficulties. In the Entretiens de Maxime et de Themiste, written during the fi nal months of his life, Bayle attributed to Jean Le Clerc the epistemological principle that any doctrine that is “subject to évident objections to which one cannot reply” must be rejected as false (OD IV, 15a). I suggest that Bayle’s refusal of this principle holds the key to understanding his considered position with regard to atheistic materialism. According to Bayle, Le Clerc’s principle, if rigorously applied, “leads not to deism or to atheism, which are systems opposed by evidently insoluble objections, but to the most outlandish Pyrrhonism, or acatalepsy.”75 The implication is that the two dogmatic systems are equally beset by insoluble philosophical difficulties. What is important to note is that the issue of retorsion of difficulties between the two systems is no longer relevant, for the question here is not the relative coherence of atheistic materialism vis-à-vis orthodox Christianity, but of its absolute tenability. As a kind of ad hominem argument, the method of retorsion can be used only against a dogmatic opponent, which is why Bayle maintains that Le Clerc’s principle would ultimately lead to skepticism. Unfortunately, Bayle does not elaborate on the “évident objections” to which materialistic atheism is subject. However, it is not implausible to assume that the difficulties to which he alludes are the materialist account of mind and the violation of the Quod Nescis principle, neither of which, as we have seen, the Naturalists can effectively resolve. On the other hand, the Cartesian occasionalist position fares well with respect to the inertness of matter and mind-body dualism, but it encounters its own difficulties with respect to the problem of evil and the conceivability of creation ex nihilo. Bayle’s insistence on the intractability of the fi rst is too well known to require detailed treatment. As for the latter, Bayle maintains that to prove the existence of an immaterial, transcendent God “it would have been necessary to know that the world was created ex nihilo, and he [Bayle] is convinced that, by itself, the natural light is inadequate for this . . . and that without the light of Scripture [the Stratonicians] could not easily have discerned this path.”76 Thus, while Cartesian occasionalism is the most coherent of Christian metaphysical systems, it, like its Naturalist competitor, fails to resolve all of the difficulties encountered by human reason.

Notes

NOTES TO THE INTRODUCTION 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10.

11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17.

P xii. P xxiii. Popkin (1965, 28). Popkin (1965, 29). “[H]erein lies the heart of the matter. Was Bayle, in his forceful, skeptical way, trying to lead people to faith, or was he secretly trying to destroy it?” (P xxiii). Lennon (2002, 274ff.); cf. Maia Neto (1999, 271–72). Lennon (2002, 278). Labrousse (1964, xvii). Mori (1999, 189). In a discussion of the manner in which a Christian philosopher can legitimately and open-mindedly examine the various proofs of God’s existence drawn from natural theology, Bayle observes that to properly investigate this question: it is not necessary actually to doubt, and even less to affi rm that everything we have believed is false. It suffices to hold [our belief] in a kind of inaction—that is, to not allow our convictions to guide us in the judgment that we render on the proofs of God’s existence. Doubtless this is what Mons. Descartes intended when he required his philosopher to doubt everything before examining the reasons for certitude: Il n’est pas nécessaire de douter actuellement, et moins encore d’affi rmer que tout ce que nous avons cru est faux: il suffit de le tenir dans une espece d’inaction, c’est-à-dire de ne point souffrir que notre persuasion nous dirige, dans le jugement que nous porterons sur les preuves de l’existence de Dieu . . . C’est sans doute ce qu’a prétendu Mr. Des Cartes, lors qu’il a voulu que son Philosophe doutât de tout, avant que d’examiner les raisons de la certitude. (DHC “Maldonat (Jean), Jésuite” rem. L, 296a) There currently exist two excellent intellectual biographies of Bayle: Labrousse (1963) and Bost (2006). For a shorter summary of Bayle’s life and works, see Ryan (2002). Cf. Pittion (1996, 432). Mori (1999, 91). Ibid. Labrousse (1964, 145–51). Mori (1999, 55–63). “quam si partes mihi essent demandatae eorum propugnandi sententiam a quibus Dn. Poiret dissentiret” (OD IV, 146b; CB III, 162).

162

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NOTES TO CHAPTER 1 1. “un ouvrage d’un génie supérieur et l’un des plus grans efforts de l’esprit humain” (OD III, 812a). 2. “S’il a été animé alors contre quelque chose, c’est contre la nouvelle Philosophie; car il disputoit vigoureusement dans l’occasion pour la Philosophie Scholastique de ses Cahiers” (OD II, 759b). Bayle goes on to claim that he abandoned Aristotelianism soon after leaving Toulouse. 3. Cf. Labrousse (1963, 100–103); Bost (2006, 64–65). 4. Pierre Bayle to Jacob Bayle, September 2, 1671; CB I, 46. For more on the relation of Cartesianism to Protestant controversy, see the following. 5. “je suis grand ami des nouveaux philosophes, et que je soupire ardemment apres l’année de physique, où je me jetterai dans le cartesianisme et dans les atomes d’Epicure que le grand Mr. Gassendi a si bien retablis. Pour cette année il faudra s’en tenir à la veille game et etre peripateticien” (Pierre Bayle to Jacob Bayle, November 25, 1675; CB II, 299). Bayle’s philosophy course was taught over two years, the fi rst of which covered logic and ethics, while the second was devoted to physics and metaphysics. 6. “Pour moi je suis peripateticien presque par tout hormis en physique, dans laquelle je suis entierement contre Aristote pour Mr Des Cartes” (Pierre Bayle to Joseph Bayle, March 28, 1677; CB II, 401). 7. Thus, despite his earlier enthusiasm for Cartesian physics, Bayle assures his brother in another letter that he regards Aristotle, Descartes, and Epicurus as nothing more than “inventors of conjectures that one adopts or abandons depending on whether one wants to pursue this or that intellectual pleasure: inventeurs de conjectures que l’on suit ou que l’on quitte selon que l’on veut chercher plutot un tel qu’un tel amusement à l’esprit” (Pierre Bayle to Jacob Bayle, May 29, 1681; CB III, 244). However, as the context of the letter makes clear, Bayle is hoping to secure an academic appointment in the Netherlands and is anxious to forestall any objections that might have arisen on account of his sympathy for the modern philosophy, and in particular Cartesianism. 8. For a more detailed discussion of the influence of Cartesianism and Scholasticism in Bayle’s formative years, see Labrousse (1964, 39ff.). 9. Thus, in a letter of July 1675, Bayle says of the Recherche, “it is quite an excellent book, from what I am told: c’est un très excellent livre à ce qu’on m’a dit” (Pierre Bayle to Jacob Bayle; CB II, 245). Two earlier letters also mention Malebranche and the Recherche: Pierre Bayle to Jacob Bayle, November 2, 1674; CB II, 4; and Bayle to Jacques Basnage, April 3, 1675; CB II, 106. 10. Malebranche to Bayle, July 9, 1684; OCM XVIII, 327. 11. As Bayle explained to one of his correspondents: I want to write to Father Malebranche at first chance to ask him to explain to me how he can maintain these two things, 1˚ that God is not formally extended, 2˚ that he fills everything, even the infinite space beyond the world. For he says that in his latest book against M. Arnauld: Je veux ecrire au premier jour au P[ère] Mallebranche pour le prier de me dire comment il peut avancer ces deux choses 1˚ que Dieu n’est point etendu formellement, 2˚ qu’il remplit tout, et même des espaces infinis hors du monde, car il dit cela dans son dernier livre contre M. Arnaud. (Bayle to Jacques Lenfant, April 2, 1685; CB 323–24) For Malebranche’s letters to Bayle, see OCM XVIII, 326–28, 356–57, 357–58, 400–402, 413–14. 12. For more on relations between Bayle and Malebranche, see Mori (81999, 9–154).

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13. PP I, 51–52; AT VIII, 29–30. I return to Descartes’s two defi nitions of substance in Chapter 6. 14. For a discussion of the development of Descartes’s ontology of substance, see Garber (1992, 85–93). 15. “Modos non esse entia distincta a suo subjecto, ipsique superaddita” (OD IV, 498). 16. “omnes qualitates rerum supponunt tamquam aliquid prius illud quod rem ipsam intrinsice constituit, cujus sunt qualitates” (OD IV, 466). 17. Cf. OD III, 545b. 18. Des Chene (1996, 131–32). A Protestant philosopher such as Bayle might well object that the characterization of accidents as that which has an essential inhaerentia aptitudinalis is still ad hoc insofar as it is only by virtue of a miracle that an accident’s potentia to inhere in a subject can fail to be actualized, and therefore inhaerentia aptitudinalis is posited solely to make room for the very case that is in dispute, namely, the miracle of transubstantiation. However, as we shall see, Bayle does not pursue this line of argument, preferring instead a more radical response. 19. Des Chene (1996, 132–34). The worry that Descartes’s failure to establish a real distinction between a substance and its accidents threatened to undermine the Catholic account of transubstantiation had been expressed as early as Arnauld’s Fourth Objections (AT VII, 217–18). In reply, Descartes boldly affi rmed that the doctrine of real accidents is “contrary to reason” (AT VII, 254; CSM II, 177). 20. “Quod res aliqua fiat per miraculum, aut juxta leges naturae, non arguit aliquam minorem, vel majorem convenientiam cum essentia creaturarum, et aliunde ineptissimum est tribuere rebus inanimatis aliquam exigentiam, lapidi verbi gratia, et albedini.” 21. For similar arguments, see OD IV, 113 and OD IV, 116. 22. Treatise 1.4.5.5. For a discussion of Hume’s Difference Principles and their implications for his ontology, see Cummins (1996). 23. “sicut fieri nequit ut res aliqua sit formaliter alba albedine aliena, vel laeta guadio alieno, ita etiam fieri nequit ut sit formaliter extensa extensione aliena, hoc est extensione realiter a se distincta. . . . Atque haec argumenta non solum probant extensionem non distingui a corpore, sed accidentia quoque corporis esse modificationes extensionis ab ipsa minime distinctas.” The same argument is used by Bayle to establish the real identity of thought and mind (OD IV, 143). 24. “Je ne comprens pas comment les Théologiens qui supposent une distinction réelle entre l’ame, et les modifications de l’ame, osent dire qu’il se fait un changement dans l’homme, lors qu’il passe de l’état de l’innocence à celui du crime. . . . Selon ces Théologiens, quand l’homme peche il se produit une entité distincte de l’ame, laquelle entité se joint avec l’ame, et compose avec elle un tout, qui contient deux êtres réellement distincts l’un de l’autre, dont l’un s’appelle substance, et l’autre accident. Je soutiens que cette jonction ne change point l’ame. . . . si l’ame étoit réellement distincte de son péché, c’està-dire du péché avec lequel elle seroit jointe, elle ne passeroit point à un autre état.” 25. “Substantiae corporeae natura in actuali extensione posita est.” Cf. OD IV, 122–23. 26. See, for example, OD IV, 276 and OD IV, 278. 27. “Credo equidem omnem substantiam extensam esse corpus” (OD IV, 150a). 28. OD IV, 278; cf. OD IV, 115.

164 Notes 29. “on n’a pas bien représenté la raison, qui fait que nous établissons dans l’Etenduë l’Essence du Corps. . . . Nous le faisons principlement à cause qu’aiant séparé par des Abstractions mentales toute qualité sensible d’avec le Corps, les Sons, les Odeurs . . . , etc.; il nous reste une Idée de trois Dimensions lesquelles nous appellons Corps, et sans laquelle nous ne concevrions pas qu’une chose pût être Corps.” 30. OD IV, 208. 31. “Materia enim non aliunde suam impenetrabilitatem habet, quam à suâ extensione, neque suam extensionem aliunde, quam à multitudine partium” (OD IV, 505). 32. OD IV, 224–25. Cf. Bayle’s defense of Rohault at OD IV, 116–17. 33. Cf. OD IV, 142. 34. For further details of the Scholastic account of quantity and matter, see Des Chene (1996, 97–109). 35. Cf. DHC “Aristote” rem. X, 328–29. For a discussion of Cartesian attempts to accommodate the Catholic miracle of transubstantiation, see Laymon (1982) and Watson (1982). Bayle compares the relative merits of Maignan’s and Rohault’s methods of explaining transubstantiation in DHC “Maignan” rem. A, 280–81. 36. “vous ne sauriez croire quels avantages [Tronchin] tire de la philosophie de Mr Des Cartes dont il fait assés ouverte profession, pour combattre ceux de l’Eglise romaine. En effet comme par les principes de ce grand homme, le lieu n’est autre chose que le corps meme, ce qui se prouve par des raisons claires comme le jour, on met à bas une legion de chicanes et de distinctions creuses dont ils se sont munis pour se sauver des absurdités qui naissent de poser un meme corps en plusieurs lieux.” 37. “il est aussi impossible que la matiere soit pénétrée, qu’il est impossible que deux choses soient égales lors que l’une est plus grande que l’autre” (OD IV, 187b). Bayle offers a similar assessment in a letter to Minutoli: There has just been published a book intended to show the opposition of M. Descartes’s principles with the Roman Catholic faith concerning transubstantiation and their conformity with Calvinism. It is a very well-written treatise, and the author, who is called Louis de la Ville, proves incontrovertibly what he seeks to prove. For, at bottom it was scarcely difficult: On vient de publier un livre pour faire voir l’opposition des principes de Mr Des-Cartes avec la foi de l’Eglise romaine touchant la tran[s]substantiation, et leur conformité avec le calvinisme. C’est un traité qui est fort bien écrit; et l’auteur, qui se nomme Louïs de La Ville, prouve invinciblement ce qu’il veut prouver; car, dans le fonds, cela n’étoit gueres difficile à faire. (March 24, 1680; CB III, 222) 38. Bayle observes that “one does a great deal of harm to a cause by defending it indiscriminately with good and bad arguments: on fait beaucoup de tort à une cause lors qu’on la soutient indifféremment par de bonnes et de mauvaises raisons” (OD III, 236b). 39. For more on Bayle’s rejection of substantial forms, see Chapter 7. 40. Cf. Mori (1999, 124–25). 41. Mori (1999, 125). 42. Similarly, in the Réponse aux questions d’un Provincial Bayle alludes to “a few considerations from mechanics, which convince certain great minds that if there were no vacuum, there would be no motion: quelques raisons de méchanique, qui font trouver à de grands esprits, que s’il n’y avoit point de vuide, il n’y auroit point de movement” (OD III, 545a). 43. In the passage that immediately precedes the quoted text, Bayle discusses the degree of heresy involved in maintaining God is formally extended. In a

Notes

44.

45.

46. 47. 48. 49. 50.

51.

52.

165

footnote to this passage Bayle’s eighteenth-century editors speculate that he is responding to an inquiry concerning Locke, who, they claim, came close to maintaining that God is formally extended. Whatever the merits of this reading of Locke, the editors’ conjecture would suggest that Bayle’s defense of the possibility of motion in a plenum is also offered in response to a question concerning Locke. For Locke’s argument that motion requires a vacuum, see Essay, bk. 2, chap. 13, sect. 22, as well as Essay, bk. 2, chap. 4, sect 3. “on ne sauroit trouver dans son esprit, si l’on tâche de ne se pas faire illusion, l’idée d’une étenduë qui ne soit point tout-à-fait semblable à l’étenduë de la Matiere. Le Vuide pour le mouvement pourroit, peut-être, être nécessaire dans la supposition que les Corps sont la cause immédiate et efficiente du mouvement; mais si je ne me trompe, l’on n’en a aucun besoin lorsque l’on suppose avec le Pere Malebranche, que Dieu seul meut la matiere.” In a passage cited by Bayle, Huygens alludes to the same argument: “As for the void, I accept it without reservation, and I even believe it to be necessary for the motion of small corpuscles among themselves: Pour ce qui est du vuide, je l’admets sans difficulté, et mesme je le crois necessaire pour le mouvement des petits corpuscules entre eux” (Huygens 1690, 162). Bayle cites this passage at DHC “Leucippe” rem. G, 102b, note 38. “corpus non posse aliquem locum occupare quin instanti praecedenti vacuus fuerit, atque adeo prius esse saltem unico instanti corpus, A, dereliquisse locum suum, quam corpus, B, in ejus locum succedere” (OD IV, 308). It is worth noting that the argument seems to presuppose an atomistic conception of time. Bayle defends such a view at DHC “Zenon d’Elée” rem. F, 538–39; P 353–54. A fourth option, inflatable (mathematical) points, is rejected by Bayle at DHC “Lugo (Jean de)” rem. E, 219. DHC “Zenon d’Elée” rem. G, 540–42; cf. OD IV, 292–303. For a clear discussion of Bayle’s argument, see Cummins (1990). “en se tenant donc à ce principe [que Dieu ne peut nous tromper] l’on rejette les objections que l’on ne saurait résoudre, et l’on n’impute ce défaut qu’aux bornes de nos lumières. C’est ainsi que par l’idée de l’étendue l’on embrasse sa divisibilité à l’infi ni, quoi que l’on ne puisse concevoir aucun accord entre une étendue de trois pieds et l’infi nité de ses parties, et quoi qu’on succombe aux objections innombrables qui attaquent la divisibilité à l’infi ni.” In his lectures on logic, Bayle maintains that there are things whose existence is certain, but whose “manner of existence” is incomprehensible. As an example he cites material objects, arguing that it is clear that matter is infi nitely divisible, although we cannot understand how this can be true (OD IV, 217–18). For a somewhat less sanguine view of the difficulties surrounding the continuum, see OD II, 546b. “si [M. Bayle] adopte la divisibilité à l’infi ni, c’est parce qu’il préfère aux raisons évidentes des Atomistes, les raisons évidentes des Peripaticiens” (OD IV, 48b). Similarly, after rehearsing several arguments against the suggestion that the continuum is composed of extensionless mathematical points, Bayle concludes “thus the hypothesis of infi nitely divisible parts, however surrounded it may be by horrendous difficulties, is the least beleaguered of all: ainsi la supposition des parties divisibles à l’infi ni, quelque environée qu’elle soit de difficultez abimantes, est la moins embarrassée de toutes” (OD I, 436–37). Bayle summarizes his position as consisting in the dual claim that “évidence seems to me the mark of truth, and not all évident propositions are equally évident: l’évidence me paroît le caractere de la vérité, et que toutes les propositions évidentes ne me semblent pas également évidentes” (OD III, 1074a).

166 Notes 53. “l’atomiste trouve de l’évidence dans les raisons qui prouvent la divisibilité à l’infi ni et dans les raisons qui la combatent, mais il en trouve beaucoup plus dans celles-ci que dans celles-là, c’est pourquoi il rejette l’évidence des premieres, et n’adhere qu’à l’évidence des secondes.” 54. For more on Bayle’s claim that there can be rational grounds for preferring one évident proposition to another with which it is logically inconsistent, see Ryan (forthcoming). 55. “S’il [Dieu] est distinct de la matiere, il n’a aucune étendue” (DHC “Epicure” rem. S, 373a). Cf. Bayle’s argument against the Aristotelilan, Gabriel Daniel: “it is only necessary to ask if the substance that is neither body nor mind is extended or not. If it is extended, it would be wrong to distinguish it from matter. If it is not extended, I would like to know on what basis it is distinguished from mind” (DHC “Rorarius” rem. G, 82a; P 233). 56. Cf. “man’s soul is simple, indivisible, and immaterial. Leibniz admits this; and if he did not agree but, on the contrary, supposed . . . that a being composed of several material parts arranged in a certain way is capable of thinking, I would regard his hypothesis as absolutely impossible on that account; and there would be many other ways of refuting it”(DHC “Rorarius” rem. L, 86a; P 249). 57. “dans le fond la plus capable de soutenir la spiritualité de Dieu” (OD III, 217a). 58. “Mr. Locke trouve un mystere incompréhensible dans la dureté et la pesanteur de certains Corps. Cela me fait croire qu’il suit l’Hypothése de Mr. Newton, touchant le Vuide; car s’il supposoit le plein, comme Des Cartes, il ne trouveroit rien de plus aisé que de comprendre en gros et en général la Dureté et la Pesanteur, et il ne compareroit point ces deux qualitez de certaines parties de la Matiere avec la Pensée, qu’il suppose que Dieu a pû donner à certains corps. Là dessus, je suis tout-à-fait du sentiment de son adversaire. Je ne crois pas qu’il soit possible qu’aucun Corps, et moins un assemblage de divers Corps, qu’un Atôme d’Epicure, soit susceptible de la Pensée.” 59. Interestingly, Bayle attempts to disarm the commonplace objection that thought stands to mind as motion stands to body by suggesting that the correct analogy is rather between actual thought and occupation of place. Thus, just as body whether at rest or in motion must at each moment occupy a determinate place, so too at each moment the soul must entertain a particular thought, which it sometimes quits in favor of another (OD IV, 142–43). 60. A number of these objections are made by Arnauld in a letter of 1649 to Descartes (AT V, 211–15, 219–24). 61. Cf. OD IV, 497 where Bayle treats ideas as operations of the mind. 62. Cf. “Nor indeed does it seem necessary that the mind is always thinking, even if it is a thinking substance, for it is enough that the power of thinking be always in it, just as corporeal substance is always divisible, even if it is not always actually divided” (Arnauld to Descartes, June 3, 1648; AT V, 188; TFI 186). 63. At several points in his lectures on metaphysics Bayle affi rms that the essence of the mind is to think. However, as in the Objectiones a Poiret, he emphasizes that this position gives rise to the very difficult question whether cogitare is to be understood as actual (occurrent) thought or the faculty of thinking (OD IV, 506–8). Curiously, the difficulties Bayle stresses are not those pertaining to the unsuitability of actions for constituting the essence of a thing. Rather, he raises the quasi-empirical worry that a foetus does not seem to be constantly thinking in the womb. Bayle concludes—with some hesitation—that the essence of the mind is best placed in occurrent thought, yet he acknowledges the strength of several objections to this view.

Notes

167

64. See DHC “Pomponace” rem. F, 780–81. Mori goes on to claim that in the same article Bayle endorses Jurieu’s assertion that it is impossible to have a clear perception of the soul’s immateriality (Mori 1999, 36). However, no such assertion is to be found in Bayle’s discussion, and significantly Mori provides no direct quotation in support of this reading. 65. OD III, 940–41. Cf. DHC “Simonide” rem. F, 211; P 280–82. 66. “ on l’a trompé, lors qu’on lui a dit que Mr. Bayle soûtenoit que toutes les propositions évidentes étoient également évidentes. Je lui répons que cette these, les corps sont incapbles de penser, paroît assez évidente pour Mr. Bayle pour la juger certaine; mais qu’il ne la croit pas aussi évidente que cette proposition, deux et deux font quatre.” 67. Furthermore, without denying its role in Bayle’s writings, it must be admitted that the a posteriori criterion of certainty according to which the failure to convince certain opponents of the évidence of a proposition constitutes a serious reason for doubting its certainty is not only philosophically suspect, but is arguably at variance with Bayle’s own insistence that our judgment is frequently compromised by passions and prejudice in theological and philosophical disputes (cf. OD III, 242b). More importantly, Bayle elsewhere rejects the dependence of évidence on the conviction of others, observing that a philosopher should always “make his judgment in accordance with considerations that he draws from the essence and intrinsic properties [of the object of investigation], and not according to extrinsic and foreign considerations, such as the opinions of other men. If he arrives at évidence by examining the object itself, he affi rms [the proposition] without fear of error, and is unconcerned whether all men judge as he does” (OD III, 237a; Bayle’s emphasis). 68. “[Malebranche soûtient à Arnauld] “qu’il se trompe, lorsqu’il s’imagine que les idées, par lesquelles nous connoissons les objets qui sont hors de nous, sont des modalitez de notre ame. Il lui soûtient aussi que les modalitez de l’ame ne peuvent point être représentatives des objets differens de l’ame, et qu’elles ne sont que des sentimens. C’est la plus incompréhensible de toutes les pensées de cet Auteur” (OD I, 25b–26a). A letter written to DesMaizeaux some twenty years later reveals that Bayle had not changed his opinion on this issue: I skimmed through Father Malebranche’s new book against M. Arnauld, and I understood less than ever his contention that the ideas by which we cognize objects are in God and not in the soul. There is some misunderstanding there. It is, it seems to me, a perpetual series of equivocations: J’ai parcouru le nouveau Livre du Pere Malebranche contre Mr. Arnauld; et j’y ai moins compris que jamais sa prétention, que les Idées, par lesquelles nous connoissons les objets, sont en Dieu, et non dans notre Ame. Il y a là du malentendu: ce sont, ce me semble, des équivoques perpétuelles. (OD IV, 862) 69. “pour ce qui est du sentiment de Mallebranche que nous voïons les choses en Dieu, j’en suis très-éloigné, je me persuade que l’âme de l’homme est aussi susceptible de la modification qu’on apelle idée que de celle que Dieu lui imprimeroit pour lui faire voir une idée séparée. Le p. Mallebranche ne pourrait jamais expliquer comment une idée séparée pourroit être l’objet d’une âme dont elle ne pourroit pas être une modification” (Bayle to J. Turner, March 15, 1697; cited in Labrousse 1964, 157). 70. Malebranche presses this argument in several places, including the Conversations chrétiennes (OCM IV, 74–75) and his replies to Arnauld (OCM IX, 952–54). Bayle portrays this consideration as Malebranche’s principal argument for the Vision in God at OD I, 26a. Similarly, in his review of Malebranche’s Trois Lettres, Bayle represents the latter’s assertion that our ideas

168

71.

72.

73. 74.

75.

76. 77.

78.

Notes are not modifications of our own minds as resting on the claim that “our mind is too limited of a subject to be capable of a modification that is the idea of the objects of which we have knowledge: notre esprit est un sujet trop borné, pour être capable d’une modification, qui soit l’idée des objets dont nous avons connoissance” (OD I, 283a). “That which is fi nite in itself can represent the infi nite. . . . Therefore, an idea that is fi nite with respect to its formal being will be able to represent completely the infi nity of God: Quod in se fi nitum est, repraesentare potest infi nitum. . . . Ergo idea fi nita quoad suam entitatem, poterit repraesentare infi nitatem Dei complete” (OD IV, 153b). I do not mean to suggest that Malebranche’s argument against the infi nite representational capacity of fi nite modifications of the mind is based on the rather crude principle to which Poiret seems to appeal. The deeper source of disagreement between Bayle and Malebranche is that the former accepts a distinction between the representative capacity of an idea and its formal being, whereas Malebranche’s position turns on a rejection of that distinction. For further discussion of Malebranche’s version of the argument, see Nadler (1992, 40–44). “Idea Dei est modus fi nitus, objectum illius è contra Ens infi nitum” (OD IV, 157b). Elsewhere Bayle renews his complaint that according to Malebranche the mind perceives ideas that are not modifications of it. He writes, “according to this view, the perception of an idea is different from the idea itself. The perception is a modality of our soul, but the idea is not. This is what few people comprehend: selon ce sentiment, la perception d’une idée est differente de l’idée même. La perception est une modalité de notre ame, mais l’idée ne l’est pas. Voilà ce que peu de gens comprennent” (OD I, 283a). Bayle hints at a further objection—also advanced by Arnauld—according to which it follows from Malebranche’s doctrine of the Vision in God that it is God himself who is the immediate object of our perceptions. In a discussion of Democritus’s claim that the images of sensible objects are divine, Bayle writes, “Y a-t-il bien loin de cette pensée à dire que nos idées sont en Dieu, comme le P. Mallebranche le dit, et qu’elles ne peuvent être une modifi cation d’un esprit créé? Ne s’ensuit-il pas de là que nos idées sont Dieu lui-même?” (DHC “Democrite” rem. P, 274a). For his part Malebranche concedes that there is a sense in which in perceiving ideas, we perceive God himself, but he attempts to soften the blow by claiming that we see God’s essence only insofar as it is representative of things outside of him and not insofar as it represents God himself. See, for example, OCM IV, 81. “s’il y eut jamais de matiere difficile, c’est celle de la formation de la pensée. Elle est peut-être plus impénétrable que celle de l’origine de l’âme” (DHC “Averroes” rem. E, 386b). “Voiez avec quelle force le Pere Mallebranche réfute tout ce qu’on dit de la maniere dont nous connoissons les choses. Il n’a point trouvé d’autre ressource, que de dire que nous les voions en Dieu, et que les idées ne sont point produites dans notre ame.” There is one text in which Bayle adopts a Malebranchean epistemology. In the opening pages of the Commentaire philosophique Bayle argues: therefore it is God himself, the essential and substantial truth, who immediately illuminates us, and who causes us to contemplate in his essence the idea of the eternal truths contained in the principles or common notions of metaphsyics: c’est Dieu lui-même, la Vérité essentielle et substantielle, qui nous éclaire alors très-immédiatement, et qui nous fait contempler dans son

Notes

79.

80. 81. 82. 83. 84.

85.

86.

87. 88. 89.

169

essence les idées des véritez éternelles, contenuës dans les principes, ou dans les notions communes de Métaphysique. (OD II, 368a–b) However, Bayle’s concern here is much less to defend a particular epistemological theory than to secure our knowledge of the fundamental principles of metaphysics and ethics as a preliminary to developing a theory of religious toleration. In any case, Bayle’s decisive rejection of the Vision in God in other texts suggests that his provisional adoption of that theory in the Commentaire amounts to little more than a philosophical convenience. “il faut comprendre toute l’étendue de pouvoir, qui convient à une nature capable de peindre dans notre esprit les images des objets. Les especes intentionelles des Scholastiques sont la honte des Péripatéciens: il faut étre je ne sai quoi pour se pouvoir persuader qu’un arbre produit son image dans toutes les parties de l’air à la ronde, jusques au cerveau d’une infi nité de spectateurs. La cause qui produit toutes ces images est bien autre chose qu’un arbre. Cherchez-la tant qu’il vous plaira, si vous la trouvez au deçà de l’Etre infi ni, c’est signe que vous n’entendez pas bien cette matiere.” For a defense of the claim that Malebranche subscribes to an adverbial theory of consciousness, see Jolley (2000, 37–42). Malebranche’s account of ideas and sensations is examined in Nadler (1992, chap. 2). Bayle also appeals to the distinction between ideas and sentiments in defending the Cartesian account of matter as res extensa against an objection from Locke. See Bayle to Coste, July 20, 1703 (OD IV, 831). For an interesting discussion of the broader debate concerning the summum bonum in the latter half of the seventeenth century, see Solère (1995) and McKenna (1982), as well as Lennon (1996). “comme l’action de l’ame par laquelle nous raportons aux objets ce que nous sentons, n’est pas essencielle au sentiment de plaisir, et qu’elle n’en est qu’un accident, ou un accessoire bien imaginé, pour entretenir plus facilement la machine; il est certain que ces sentimens de plaisir seroient dans la même espece qu’aujourd’hui, encore qu’ils ne fussent pas liez à cet accessoire.” Thus, Bayle sometimes suggests that the mere alteration of the occasional cause of a sensation of pleasure from a physical event to a mental one would suffice to change its denomination from corporeal to spiritual: “change only the occasional causes of these two pleasures and leave them what they were before in themselves, you will fi nd that you must change their denominations: changez seulement les causes occasionelles de ces deux plaisirs, et laissez-les en eux-mêmes ce qu’ils étoient auparavant, vous trouverez qu’il faudra faire un échange de leurs titres” (OD I, 455a). Cf. “if while [the soul] is united to a body it refers pain and certain pleasures to a certain part of this body . . . it is only by an absolutley free institution on the part of the author of its union with the body. It is only so that it can better attend to the conservation of the machine to which it is united: si pendant qu’elle [notre âme] est unie à un corps elle rapporte à quelque partie de ce corps la douleur et certains plaisirs . . . ce n’est que par un établissement tout-à-fait libre de l’Auteur de son union avec le corps, ce n’est qu’afi n qu’elle puisse mieux veiller à conserver la machine qui lui est unie” (DHC “Epicure” rem. H, 368b). OCM I, 96–97, 129–30. For a discussion of Malebranche’s theory of natural judgments, see Nadler (1992, 18–26). Bayle argues that the phenomenon of phantom pain establishes the claim that sensations are referred to parts of the body (OD IV, 433). Nadler also reads Arnauld as maintaining that every mental act or state is essentially intentional. See Nadler (1989, 82–83).

170 Notes 90. Although he explicitly endorses the intrinsic intentionality of ideas, Bayle does not make clear whether he follows Malebranche in conceiving ideas as immediate objects of perception distinct from the perceptions themselves, or rather agrees with Arnauld that ideas and perceptions are a single mental act considered under different aspects. As we have seen Bayle rejects Malebranche’s contention that ideas are not modes of our mind. However, this leaves undetermined the question of the distinctness of ideas from acts of perception. In short, Bayle declines to endorse either the content or the object theory of intentionality. 91. “Le rapport de nos idées à leur objet est essentiel; et il [Arnauld] a raison de dire que Dieu ne pourroit pas faire que l’idée du cercle fût séparée du rapport au cercle. Mais il n’en va pas de même de nos sentimens. Notre ame pourroit sentir du froid sans le rapporter à un pied, ni à une main, tout comme elle sent la joie d’une bonne nouvelle et le chagrin, sans les rapporter à aucune des parties du corps.” 92. “tous les plaisirs corporels ne seroient aussi différents les uns des autres, que par une semblable dénomination extrinseque, prise de leurs différentes causes occasionnelles.” 93. It is worth noting that at least one commentator seems to follow Arnauld in his misreading of Bayle. See Nadler (1989, 176–78). 94. It is interesting to speculate why Arnauld mistakenly imputes such a strong and prima facie implausible position to Bayle. One possible explanation is that Arnauld assumes, to put the point anachronistically, that the representational content of a mental act supervenes on its phenomenal character. From this he concludes that if, as Bayle maintains, sensations of pleasure and pain were not intrinsically intentional, they would have no intrinsic sensuous character whatsoever. 95. “Il est donc essentiel à ce plaisir, selon l’institution de la nature, d’avoir rapport à ce fruit: autrement ce plaisir ne me serviroit de rien pour la fi n pour laquelle il m’est donné.”

NOTES TO CHAPTER 2 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7.

8.

Labrousse (1964, 175). Mori (1999, especially 36–38; 70–74). I examine Bayle’s critique of Lockean superaddition in Chapter 3. Bayle discusses Galen’s version of the argument in DHC “Epicure” rem. F, 367. “non concipiamus alias mutationes accidere posse materiae, praeter divisionem in particulas minutiores, majoremque agitationem, aut quid simile” (OD IV, 456). “tanta certitudine negamus amorem esse figuram, motum, etc., quanta negamus amorem esse numerum ternarium” (OD IV, 456). “possumus negare, [cogitationem] occupare aliquem locum, sive esse extensam; et tamen clare cognoscemus esse cogitationem; nam his omnibus eliminatis, perfecte cognoscemus, quid sit gaudere, vel quomodo gaudium differat a dolore.” For a similar argument in Bayle’s later works, see DHC “Dicéarque” rem. L, 288; P 71. There is another sense in which Bayle would reject the reducibility of the mental to the physical. Bayle asserts that psychophysical laws of nature are not determined by the body of laws that govern the physical realm. Bayle argues that one must carefully distinguish:

Notes

9. 10.

11.

12. 13. 14.

15.

171

the general laws of the communication of motion from the laws of the union of mind and body. These are two kinds of laws, of which the second has no necessary connection [liaison naturelle] with the fi rst. The laws of the communication of motion could be executed to the fullest extent without the stimulation [ébranlement] that they cause in the fibers of the human brain giving rise to any sensation in the mind. There is no necessary connection between local motion and sensation, not even on the hypothesis of the materiality of the mind: les loix générales de la communication des mouvemens, d’avec les loix de l’union de l’ame et du corps. Ce sont deux sortes de loix dont la seconde n’a aucune liaison naturelle avec la premiere. Les loix de la communication du mouvement pourroient être exécutées sans qu’il y manquât rien quoi que l’ébranlement qu’elles causeroient dans les fibres d’un cerveau d’homme n’excitât aucun sentiment dans l’ame. Il n’y a aucune liaison naturelle entre le mouvement local, et le sentiment, non pas même dans la supposition de la matérialité de l’ame. (OD IV, 64b) For Bayle both physical and psychophysical laws of nature fi nd their origin in God’s free volitions. However, considered in themselves the laws of motion neither logically entail nor otherwise explain the laws governing the causal interaction of mind and body. The latter are not even conditionally necessitated by God’s prior choice of the laws of motion. Bayle denied any necessary connection between mental states and physical states as early as the Objections to Poiret (OD IV, 159b; OD V–1, 67). See also OD III, 667–68. Mori (1999, 55–69). “Quaero, num Deus Virtute sua infi nita et omnipotenti efficere valeat ut corpus existentiae suae, alteriusve cujusdam rei, fiat sibi conscium? Si neges, imminuis Dominium Dei ejusque omnipotentiam. . . . Fateor me non concipere qui corpus ex non cogitatione fieri posset cogitans mutata figura vel positione ipsius partium, determinationeque illius motus: Sed unde habemus non alias adhuc modificationes posse suscipere si Deus virtutem suam in illud explicare voluerit?” “Dicam ego pariter, ad praesentiam certorum motuum materiam sic posse modificari à Deo ut ipsa guadeat vel doleat. Atque hoc pacto ruet objectio praecipua Cartesianorum desumta ex eo quod motus, figura, aliaeque modificationes corporum, toto coelo discrepent ab idea cogitationis. Ergo enim non dico motum et figuram esse formaliter actum cogitandi, sed solum occasionem cogitandi.” Labrousse (1964, 179). Mori (1999, 71). “nihil esse omnino animum, et hoc esse nomen totum inane . . . neque in homine inesse animum vel animam, nec in bestia. Vimque omnem eam, qua vel agamus quid, vel sentiamus, in omnibus corporibus vivis aequaliter esse fusam, nec separabilem a corpore esse, quippe quae nulla sit, nec sic quicquam, nisi corpus unum et simplex, ita figuratum ut temperatione naturae vigeat et sentiat.” Bayle was aware that by some accounts Dicaearchus advanced a harmony theory of the soul. In a footnote Bayle observes rather curtly that Dicaearchus: believed that the soul was the harmony of the four elements. . . . Therefore, he should have held that all composites [mixtes] have a soul, because the four elements must resolve themselves into a harmony. But is it not as absurd to suppose that the harmony of the four elements produces thought as to suppose that a certain musical harmony is a sound that is aware of itself and of surrounding objects?: [Dicaearchus] croioit que l’ame étoit l’harmonie des 4 éléments . . . il devoit donc croire que tous les mixtes ont une ame, car les 4

172 Notes

16.

17. 18.

19. 20. 21. 22.

23. 24.

25. 26.

27.

éléments s’y doivent réduire à l’harmonie. Mais n’est-il pas aussi absurde de supposer que l’harmonie des 4 élémens produit la pensée, que de supposer qu’un certain concert de Musique seroit un son qui se connoitroit soi-même, et qui connoitroit les objets voisins? (DHC “Dicéarque” rem. C, note 53, 288) The inference from inseparability to essentiality was common among the Cartesians. Rohault, for example, argues that “we must say that extension, divisibility, figure, and impenetrability are at least essential properties of matter, since they always accompany it, and are inseparable from it” (Rohault 1682, vol. 1, chap. 7). For a detailed discussion of the unique status of motion as a mode of body in Descartes’s metaphysics, see Garber (1992, especially 172–75). A further complication arises from the fact that elsewhere Bayle rejects Descartes’s defi nition of motion as ‘pitiful’ and goes on to claim that in fact we have no adequate defi nition of motion (DHC “Zenon d’Elée” rem. G, 542). However, this is perhaps less serious than it might fi rst appear. For to say that we have no adequate defi nition of a thing does not entail that we know nothing about it. Thus, Bayle could say that even if no satisfactory defi nition of motion has been found, there are certain characteristics of motion that any adequate defi nition must take into account, and among these is that the only thing that is “real and positive” in a mode of motion is that the body occupies a certain place. Bayle consistently maintains that we are ignorant of the true defi nition of motion. See, for example, OD IV, 135–36. Similarly, in the lectures on physics, Bayle contends that even acting miraculously God could not create a fi nite material substance with no shape or spatial location. For Malebranche’s development of this argument, see OCM XII, 34–35. For a discussion of the history of this and related arguments, see Mijuskovic (1974, especially chap. 3). Bayle offers a similar line of argument in a discussion of the Catholic dogma of the real presence: “if matter is penetrable, it is clear that extension is only an accident of body, and thus that body, according to its essence, is an unextended substance. It can then have all the attributes that we conceive of as belonging to spirit—understanding, will, passions, sensations” (DHC “Pyrrhon” rem. B, 733; P 201). Cf. OD III, 225b. I consider Bayle’s defense of this claim at greater length in Chapter 6. This is brought out more clearly by Bayle’s statement in the conclusion of Theses Philosophiae: “if it [a thinking thing] were composed of several substances, as our body is composed of several members, it could never see an entire object: si esset composita ex multis substantiis, sicuti corpus nostrum constat ex variis membris, non posset unquam cernere integrum aliquod objectum” (OD IV, 141). “Res cogitans est necessario una, nulla vero res extensa una est” (OD IV, 141). “evidens est si res volens sit extensa, actum volendi coextendi ipsi sive reperiri in qualibet illius parte, quemadmodum motus coextenditur mobili, sive reperitur in qualibet parte mobilis; ergo sicut in lapide projecto nihil est quod, si loquendi facultate praeditum esset, verè dicere posset, Ego habeo totum motum lapidi impressum: ita nihil esset in anima extensa, si vellet aliquid, quod verè dicere posset, Ego habeo integrum actum volendi.” The principle that every extended substance is ultimately a composite of several distinct substances is frequently invoked by Bayle in support of the claim that God’s essential unity precludes his being extended. However, on at least

Notes

28.

29. 30.

31.

173

one occasion, Bayle goes further and argues that if God were a composite of distinct substances, there would be no one being who heard our prayers. The suggestion seems to be that a composite being is ontologically reducible to its component parts, and therefore it cannot act as a whole, since the reality of the whole is purely nominal. He writes: A corporeal god would not be one substance [une substance], but a mass of several substances, for every body is composed of parts. If this God were invoked, he would not understand qua whole, since nothing composite exists outside of our understanding with the nature of a whole. There is nothing more pitiful than to see the question, whether a whole is really distinct from its parts taken collectively, treated very seriously in every Scholastic philosophy course. This distinction can be no more than ideal . . . for the utility of language we have invented words that express in the singular what is in reality only a multitude of substances: Un Dieu corporel ne seroit pas une substance, mais un amas de plusieurs substances, car tout corps est composé de parties. Si l’on invoquoit ce Dieu il n’entendroit point cela entant que tout, puis que rien de composé n’existe hors de notre entendement sous la nature de tout. Il n’y a rien de plus pitoïable que de voir traiter fort sérieusement dans tous les cours de Philosophie scholastique la question, si le tout est distingué réellement de ses parties prises ensemble. Cette distinction du tout ne peut être qu’ideale: . . . pour la commodité du langage on a inventé des mots qui expriment au singulier ce qui n’est réellement qu’une multitude de substances. (OD III, 392a) Elsewhere Bayle argues that just as the actions of an army are wholly reducible to the actions of the individual soldiers, so too the actions of an ens per agregationem must be wholly reducible to the actions of its component parts (OD III, 226). However, even if the argument succeeds in establishing that the acts of the whole must be reducible to the acts of the parts, Bayle would seem to need a further argument to show that the acts of the components must be of the same kind as that of the whole. Of course, whether PEI can be made plausible is a complex question. One example of a property kind that would seem to pose diffi culties for the principle is structural properties, such as brittleness or fragility. It is not obvious that each of the individual particles of which a wine glass is composed must themselves be fragile. I suspect that given his sympathy for the mechanist account of material substances, Bayle would attempt to argue that such structural properties are not different in kind from the properties of their component parts. Cited in Chapter 1. Jean-Pierre Schachter has argued that the principle that a mind can be consciously aware of only its own modifications results from an identification of the relation of inherence and the relation of conscious awareness. He further argues that this identification follows from the Scholastic principle (endorsed by Bayle) that “accidents do not migrate from subject to subject” (Schachter 2002). The attribution of such a line of reasoning to Bayle seems problematic, since nowhere does Bayle endorse the claim that in the case of mental substances the relation of inherence just is the relation of mental awareness. More generally, I think that the ‘Non Migrant’ principle plays far too large a role in Schachter’s reconstruction of Bayle’s argument. Elsewhere, Bayle maintains that we know by introspective awareness that all of our actions originate in the numerically same principle: “each person experiences in himself that the principle that desires carnal pleasures is numerically identical to the principle that opposes this desire. . . . We would not observe this unity of principle if we had two kinds of souls really distinct

174

32.

33. 34.

35.

Notes (réellement distincte) from one another” (DHC “Rorarius” rem. K, 84; P 241). Similarly, Bayle ascribes knowledge of the unity of the mind to the “sentiment intérieur et évident de chaque personne” (DHC “Eclaircissement sur les Manichéens” 641). “Non nego Dei cogitatationes in se esse unum et simplicem actum; sed hoc etiam convenit animae: ipsa, et actus seu cogitationes suae, sunt una et simplex entitas. Ergo omnes cogitationes illius sunt unus et simplex actus” (OD IV, 152b). For Bayle’s contention that sensations of pain are nonrepresentational modes of thought, see Chapter 1. As we have seen Bayle begins his discussion in “Leucippe” by observing that had the ancient atomists ascribed an innate power of thinking to individual atoms they might have avoided the otherwise devastating Achilles objection. Jean-Pierre Schachter has argued that Bayle’s insistence on the incompatibility between coherent thought and divisible matter suggests that he is not here offering a friendly amendment to the theory of physical atoms, but rather is proposing a kind of Leibnizian monad as the most defensible form of atomism (Schachter 2002, 255). However, this reading strikes me as problematic. For Bayle’s observation that the hypothesis of thinking atoms would not be subject to the Achilles stems solely from his willingness to grant for the sake of the argument the atomists’ claim that physical atoms are indivisible and therefore ontologically simple. That Bayle is prepared to grant such a claim as a kind of dato non concesso is clear from his parallel treatment of physical atoms in his lectures on physics. There Bayle acknowledges the theoretical advantage that the atomist enjoys on account of the alleged simplicity of his constitutive principles, before going on to attack that simplicity in the very next sentence: “[The atomists’] opinion has this great advantage, that these principles are perfectly simple and devoid of all composition. However, we reject it both because it admits a vacuum and because it is incomprehensible that a body endowed with magnitude as is an Epicurean atom, allows no composition of parts” (OD IV, 275). Bayle makes a similar concession in a discussion of Anaxagoras’s theory of homoeomeris. Speaking of one of Anaxagoras’s principles, he writes: “if it were an Epicurean atom—a perfectly simple, perfectly unique body, devoid of all composition—I grant that nothing could divide it” (DHC “Anaxagoras” rem. G, 214). Further, Bayle’s primary concern in “Leucippe” is simply to render the hypothesis of physical atoms as internally consistent as possible. This is confi rmed by his concluding observation that it is no more absurd to claim that thought belongs to the essence of an atom, than that self-motion does, the latter of which Bayle expressly rejects. Moreover, to endorse Leibnizian monads would not be an enhancement to, but rather an abandonment of the theory of physical atoms, for surely the distinguishing feature of that theory is its claim that atoms are extended entities, that are nevertheless ontologically simple. In any case, it is difficult to see how the hypothesis of thinking monads would be more satisfactory in Bayle’s eyes, given his well-known rejection of the possibility that the physical continuum might be composed of mathematical points. Thus, I cannot agree with Schachter who sees the Achilles as invoking the claim that the accidents of matter are limited to those that can be quantified (Schachter 2002, 243–44). As far as I can see this premise plays no role in the argument, which instead grants as a dato non concesso that mental acts might inhere in extended physical substance. Indeed, to invoke such a restriction on the kinds of qualities that can belong to matter, would render idle much of the argumentative machinery of the Achilles, since the

Notes

36. 37.

38.

39. 40. 41.

42.

43. 44. 45. 46. 47.

175

conclusion that thought cannot inhere in a material substance would follow immediately. Bayle rehearses this standard argument for immortality in the Systema (OD IV, 457). “Ce n’est pas assez que de savoir que l’ame ne peut être detruite que par annihilation. Cela convient à l’étendue, et néanmoins les arbres et les animaux sont mortels. Il faloit donc dire, je sçai que l’ame ne peut subsister sans la pensée; l’idée distincte que j’ai de la substance spirituelle et indivisible m’apprend que si on la depouilloit de la pensée, elle n’existeroit plus.” “les substances distinctes du corps sont peut-être d’une nature à pouvoir retenir leur existence sans avoir aucune pensée, et qu’ainsi la spiritualité n’est pas une preuve nécessaire de l’immortalité; car si la vie de l’ame consiste dans la pensée, il est sûr que la cessation totale de la pensée seroit une vraie mort de l’ame; c’est pourquoi l’ame pourroit mourir sans cesser d’être une substance spirituelle.” For a discussion of Bayle’s objections to the notion that the essence of mind is actual thought, see Chapter 1, as well as Mori (1999, 70–74). Bayle argues that the defi nition of spirit as immaterial substance is “very imperfect,” since it tells us only what a spirit is not, namely a material being (OD IV, 241–42; cf. OD IV, 505). Nevertheless, it would be too hasty to read Bayle’s worry about the soundness of standard proofs of immortality as a straightforward rejection of the very possibility of such arguments. For Bayle takes no stand on the ultimate validity of the objections to the Cartesian argument for immortality. Instead, he limits himself to the observation that a Cartesian would do well to “defend the truth of his principle right to the end” and to address the objections “to the best of his ability” (DHC “Pomponace” rem. F, 781a). More importantly, as we saw earlier, Bayle invokes the PMC in order to show that even if thought were a mode of material substance, a thinking being could never become insentient, since it is the nature of modes to be lost only if they are replaced by another of the same kind, an argument that would apply equally to immaterial substance. Indeed, Bayle explicitly invokes the PMC as a means of refuting Dicaearchus’s argument for the mortality of the soul. It may be that the worries Bayle considers in “Pomponace” reflect a recognition on his part that the PMC, though plausible, even probable, cannot be known with complete certainty. This may help to explain why Bayle emphasizes the Achilles in subsequent discussions of mind-body dualism. Bayle seems to have been convinced by Malebranche that we have no clear and distinct idea of the soul. In a review of the Réponse de l’auteur de la Recherche de la Verité au livre de M. Arnauld, Bayle characterizes Malebranche’s position as “the best proved” thesis in the book, adding that Arnauld’s objections on this score are “rather weak” (OD I, 26b; cf. OD II, 397a). “on n’a pas une idée claire de la pensée” (OCM I, 382). Malebranche makes the same claim at OCM VI, 161. “But if it is easy to know the existence of our soul, it is not so easy to know its essence and nature” (OCM II, 369; LO 480). For more on this claim, see Chapter 1. Mori (1999, 127). It is worth noting that although they agree in general argumentative strategy, Bayle and Malebranche differ with respect to the particular argument used to establish the impossibility of mental modes of extended substance. Malebranche typically argues that the only kinds of modification of which extension is capable are relations of distance and that as a result thought cannot be

176 Notes a mode of material substance. Significantly, in his mature writings Bayle does not appeal to this argument, which turns on a form of the Anti-emergence Principle that Bayle calls into question in the Objections to Poiret. Instead, Bayle favors the Achilles argument, which as I have emphasized, makes no appeal to this premise.

NOTES TO CHAPTER 3 1. “Intelligunt per potentiam obedientialem, vim quandam recipiendi à Deo extra ordinem operante talem influxum, per quem deinde producantur effectus supernaturales à creaturis, ut si verbi gratiâ Deus instrueret lapidem virtute creandi aliquid, et ratiocinandi” (OD IV, 470). 2. “quod non inde sequantur duo contradictoria, Deo verò tribuenda sit potentia faciendi quaecumque non implicant contradictionem” (OD IV, 470). 3. “quando res aliqua dicitur fieri naturaliter, hoc non significat fieri . . . juxta virtutem quandam, quae sit in rebus absolutè consideratis, prae omni alia facultate” (OD IV, 472). 4. “illam rem fieri, secundùm certas leges, quas Deus summâ suâ libertate, inter multas alias non minùs commodas, nec minùs aptitudini creaturarum congruas, elegit: unde sequitur, quod si Deus spretis illis legibus, alias sequatur nonnumquam, aequè agit secundùm aptitudinem creaturae, ac in aliis casibus consuetis.” 5. “Tous les Philosophes Chretiens conviennent, qu’il n’y a point de miracles par raport aux loix éternelles, mais seulement par raport aux loix arbitraries, qu’il a plu à Dieu d’établir dans la Nature. . . . [S]i une loi émane de la nécessité des choses, [et] si en conséquence de cela elle est immuable, n’y attendez point d’exception en aucun cas, c’est une affaire impossible. Or entre les loix, ou les véritez éternelles et immuables, il n’y en a point de plus certaine que celle-ci, que rien n’arrive contre l’essence des choses.” Cf. OD III, 409–10 and OD III, 884. 6. DHC “Dicéarque” rem. C, 286; P 67. Cf. OD IV, 109–32. 7. “nemo distinctè concipit, corpora aliorum effectuum esse capacia, quam impulsonis, et eorum quae impulsionem sequuntur” (OD IV, 471). 8. DHC “Simonide” rem. F, 210; P 277. Similarly, Bayle argues that in order for a god or demiurge to forge a world out of an uncreated, chaotic matter, “would it not be necessary for him to produce motion in it; and for that would it not be necessary for him to touch it and push it?: ne faudra-t-il pas qu’il y produise le mouvement; et pour cela ne faudra-t-il pas qu’il la touche, et qu’il la pousse?” (DHC “Epicure” rem. S, 373a). I discuss this argument in Chapter 7. 9. It might be objected that even if we accept Bayle’s argument there remains an indispensable role for God in that only he can establish the laws of nature. But a materialistic atheist could simply deny that the arbitrary laws of nature fi nd their origin in divine institution, maintaining instead either that they are brute facts that admit of no further explanation or necessary truths determined by the “nature of things.” Thus, Bayle argues that for the ancient atomists, according to whom matter is eternal and uncreated, no rational explanation of the laws of nature governing the interactions of atoms is possible; their obtaining can only be ascribed to the inexplicable “nature of things”: Do not ask why in certain situations the effect of the reaction [produced by the collision of atoms] is this rather than that, because the properties of a thing admit of explanation only when it was freely created by a cause that

Notes

10. 11.

12.

13. 14. 15. 16.

17. 18.

177

had its reasons and its motives for producing it: Ne demandez pas pourquoi en certaines rencontres l’effet de la réaction est plutôt ceci que cela; car on ne peut donner raison des propriétez d’une chose, que lors qu’elle a été faite librement par une cause qui a eu ses raisons, et ses motifs en la produisant. (DHC “Democrite” rem. R, 275) Elsewhere Bayle makes a similar point: “when an uncreated thing is such and such, it cannot be asked why it is at that way. That is its nature. One must necessarily stop there” (DHC “Pauliciens” rem. H, 631; P 187). Wilson (1982, 251). Bayle had no working knowledge of English, a fact he lamented on numerous occasions. What direct acquaintance he had with Locke’s philosophical works was acquired from French and Latin translations. An extract of the Essay had appeared in French translation as early as 1688 in LeClerc’s Bibliothèque Universelle, although Bayle shows no signs of familiarity with the work at this early date. However, Bayle followed closely the debate between Locke and Stillingfleet through accounts that appeared in the Histoire des ouvrages des savans in 1697 and 1698, as well as two articles in the Nouvelles de la République des Lettres in 1699. Later Pierre Coste, Locke’s translator and a close friend of Bayle, sent the latter a copy of his French translation of the Essay, which fi rst appeared in 1700. In a letter dated 1703, Bayle responds to Locke’s criticism of the Cartesian account of material substance, although he declines to reply to Coste’s query about Locke’s view of substance. We also know that Bayle read Book I of the Essay as part of his preparations for writing the Continuation des Pensées Diverses. For a complete account of Locke’s personal relations with Locke, and of Bayle’s familiarity with Locke’s writings, see Whitmore (1959). “[Locke] ne croïoit pas que nous conussions la nature des substances. Il avoüoit que l’étenduë impénétrable, la divisibilité, la mobilité étoient des propriétez de la matiere, ou de la substance corporelle, mais non pas l’essence ou l’attribut constitutif de la substance de la matiere. Il croïoit donc que ces propriétez-là subsistoient dans un sujet que nous ne connoissons pas.” “Dieu doit être une nature intelligente: tout ce qui est composé de parties est incapable d’intelligence: tout ce qui est materiel est composé de parties: il faut donc que Dieu soit immaterial.” Bayle discusses these difficulties at much greater length in DHC “Rorarius.” Gianni Paganini argues that this latter discussion influenced Hume’s treatment of mind-body dualism in the Treatise. See Paganini (1996). “Nos qui nullum discrimen agnoscimus inter attributum necessario conjunctum, et attributum essentiale, dicimus proprium quarto modo esse attributum essentiale et identificatum realiter cum differentia.” Interestingly, Bayle illustrates this claim with the example of divisibility with respect to extension, arguing that divisibility, which is a proprium quarto modo of matter does not differ from extension, and is therefore really identical with the essence of material substance, that is with extension itself. For more on Bayle’s ontology of substance, see Chapter 1. Lennon (1997, 182–83). Here I must disagree with Lennon, who reads Bayle as ascribing to Locke a bare substratum view of substance. In general, Bayle’s metaphysical arguments always presuppose the Cartesian ontology of substance according to which a substance is identical with its primary attribute. Indeed, Bayle seems to treat this view as a philosophical commonplace. Thus, Bayle observes that Spinoza “admits, along with all other philosophers, that the attribute of a substance does not differ actually from that substance” (DHC “Spinoza”

178 Notes

19.

20.

21. 22. 23. 24.

rem. N, 259; P 302–3). However, on Bayle’s view the question of whether Locke holds a bare substratum view of substance in general, or instead takes it to be a natured particular is largely irrelevant. For once one denies that extension is the essence of matter, it must be an accident. Thus, whatever the nature of material substance, be it bare particular or natured particular, it is essentially unextended. Hence, there is no longer any conceptual impossibility in claiming that matter is capable of thinking. “exigentia extensionis affi xa substantiae in communi non praebet ullam ideam distinctam, sed conceptum vagum, confusum et manifestè falsum, nisi redigas . . . exigentiam ad meram potentiam passivam, quae cùm nihil distinctiùs significet quàm non repugnantia omni enti possibili conveniens, inepta est prorsus ad constituendam differentiam specificam materiae.” Bayle had offered a similar line of reasoning in the Dictionnaire: If it [an alleged third kind of substance] is not extended, I would like to know on what basis it is distinguished from mind; for it is like mind in being an unextended substance, and we cannot comprehend how this classification can be divided into two kinds, since the specific attribute that may be given to one would never be incompatible with the other. If God can join thought to one unextended being, he could also join it with another unextended being, there being nothing but extension that seems to us to make matter incapable of thought. (DHC “Rorarius” rem. G, 82; P 233; slightly emended) Ayers (1981). I return to Bayle’s assessment of the tenability of atheistic materialism in Chapter 7. “Combien seroit-il plus avantageux à la Religion de s’en tenir au principe des Cartésiens que l’étenduë, et la matiere ne sont qu’une seule et même substance!” (OD III, 942b). “[beaucoup d’] attention pour trouver l’attribut de corps dans l’idée de l’étenduë; il faut pour cela livrer combat . . . aux préjugez populaires touchant le vuide. . . . A cela se joignent quelques raisons de mécanique, qui font trouver à de grands esprits, que s’il n’y avoit point de vuide, il n’y auroit point de movement. . . . C’est ainsi que la revelation naturelle sur l’identité du corps, et de l’étenduë, s’est obscurcie.” In the article “Zenon d’Elée” Bayle reports having heard from a mathematician familiar with Newton’s work that “the falsity and impossibility of this proposition [that motion is possible in a plenum] had not only been proved, it has been mathematically demonstrated.” He goes on to argue that modern mathematicians thus stand in opposition to our clearest and most distinct idea, that of extension (DHC “Zenon d’Elée” rem. I, 545; P 379). Cf. DHC “Leucippe” rem. G.

NOTES TO CHAPTER 4 1. “Je suis persuadé que comme il n’y a que Dieu qui puisse mouvoir les corps, il n’y a que Dieu qui puisse communiquer des idées à notre ame. Elle n’en est point la cause, elle ne sait de quelle maniere elles s’excitent; elle en voudrait qu’elle n’a pas . . . C’est donc Dieu qui nous communique l’ídée que nous avons de lui.” 2. For Bayle’s discussions of Malebranche’s theodicy in the Pensées diverses, see especially OD III, 130–31 and 140–42. Bayle’s defi nitive rejection of that theory can be found at OD III, 811–13 and OD IV, 65. 3. “[qui] ne se pique que de science; il aime mieux laisser périr tout le genre humain que de soufrir que quelques atomes aillent plus vite ou plus lentement que les loix générales ne le demandent” (OD IV, 62b).

Notes

179

4. For an account of Bayle’s rejection of Malebranche’s theodicy, see Mori (1999, chap. 3). 5. Daniel Garber argues that Descartes accepted occasionalism in the case of body-body causation, that he rejected it with respect to mind-body causation, and that he vacillated on the issue of body-mind causation. See Garber (1993). 6. For a discussion of occasionalism among the early Cartesians, especially La Forge, see Nadler (1993). 7. Malebranche formulates a version of this argument at Recherche 6.2.3 (OCM II, 313; LO 450). 8. The stages of this debate are summarized at OCM XVII–1, 567–70. 9. “il faut de necessité absolue qu’il arrive un changement quel qu’il soit; et la necessité de changement est prise, non de la volonté de Dieu . . . mais de la nature des corps et de leur impenetrabilité qui s’oppose absolument à la continuation du mouvement d’A et de B tel qu’il étoit.” 10. “rien ne peut estre de sa nature cause occasionelle de quoi que ce soit; ce ne peut être que par institution” (OCM XVII–1, 588; OD V–I, 188). 11. It has been suggested that Malebranche attempts to deal with this objection by claiming that even if the impenetrable nature of bodies necessitates some change or other upon collision, nevertheless the collision of bodies cannot be counted as a true cause, because considered in itself the nature of body does not necessitate any determinate effect. For his part, Bayle accepts the claim that all efficient causes must produce fully determinate effects, but he does not invoke the principle in this context. 12. Pyle (2003, 126). 13. Pyle (2003, 127). 14. Cf. Chapter 1. 15. “fieri non posse, ut τò esse extensum separetur realiter à divisibili, mensurabili, figurato, impenetrabili etc. cum haec omnia sint una, et eadem realiter entitas, ac per consequens, has omnes esse proprietates inseparabiles et essentiales materiae.” Bayle argues that the essence of extension implies impenetrability at OD IV, 117–21 and again at OD IV, 278. Malebranche defends the same thesis at OCM II, 325–26; LO 455. 16. Cf. “If there is any nature, the essential properties of which we know clearly, it is extension. We have a clear and distinct idea of it that makes us know that the essence of extension consists in the three dimensions and that the properties or inseparable attributes are divisibility, mobility and impenetrability . . . Let us search as much as we please in the recesses of the mind, we will not fi nd there any idea of an immobile, indivisible and penetrable extension” (DHC “Zenon d’Elée” rem. I, 544; P 379). See also DHC “Simonide” rem. F, 211; P 281. 17. Cf. OD IV, 290. 18. “Nous n’avons jamais pretendu, lors que nous avons attribué à Dieu seul le principe immediat et la production relle du mouvement, qu’il ait pu en toutes suppositions établir toutes sortes de loix; car il implique contradicton, que tout étant plein, et la matiere ne sortant jamais hors du monde, Dieu fasse une loi qui porte qu’il mouvra toujours le corps en ligne droite.” 19. For the claim that a body cannot occupy two distinct places simultaneously, see DHC “Zenon d’Elée” rem. F, 538; P 353. 20. Several commentators have expressed puzzlement over the confidence with which Malebranche rejects the possibility of action at a distance in favor of purely mechanistic laws of communication of motion at impact (see, for example, Pyle 2003, 124–28; Downing 2005). Given that for the occasionalist the laws of communication of motion have their origin not in the essence

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of body qua body but in a free act of divine will, it is not obvious on what grounds it could be maintained that God could not have chosen another set of laws according to which, to take Fontenelle’s example, the direction of bodies is altered when they pass within the mean square distance of their diameters. Certainly there is nothing in occasionalism per se to preclude such a law. But perhaps Malebranche could defend his proscription of action at a distance in a different way, namely, by appeal to the simplicity of God’s ways. For as we have seen, the very nature of extended substance entails that bodies cannot interpenetrate. Now given the impossibility of a vacuum, all bodies exist in an extended plenum, and therefore must be in contact with one another. As a result, if God wishes to set these bodies in motion, then owing to the inevitability of collision, he must of necessity institute some laws governing the redistribution of motion at impact. However, there is no such metaphysical requirement that God establish a law of nature providing for action at a distance. Now Malebranche could hold that because God’s wisdom dictates that he achieve his ends in the simplest possible manner, the introduction of a second kind of law represents an additional complexity that would be justified only if the laws governing collision of bodies were of themselves insufficient to produce all of God’s desired effects. Indeed, something like this line of reasoning occurs in the Méditations chrétiennes et métaphysiques, where Malebranche argues that: given the impenetrability of bodies, it was their collisions that had to serve as the foundation of the general laws of the communication of motion in order that God’s action, which of necessity must change, changed as little as possible, so that it constantly followed simple and general laws, so that it bore the character of the divine attributes: les corps étant impénétrables, c’étoit leur choc qui devoit servir de fondement aux lois générales des communications de mouvemens, afi n que l’action de Dieu, dans la nécessité du changement, changeât le moins qu’il étoit possible, afi n qu’elle suivît constamment des loix simples et générales, afin qu’elle portât le caractére des attributs Divins. (OCM X, 60) In a recent article Lisa Downing explores the possibility of defending an occasionalist mechanistic physics by appeal to the simplicity of God’s ways, but ultimately rejects the strategy on the grounds that Malebranche came to acknowledge that “we are not particularly good at judging what exactly is dictated by God’s simplicity and that we must have reference to experience to determine the laws of motion” (Downing 2005, 221). However, we can concede that for Malebranche the mere consideration of the simplicity of God’s ways is an insufficient basis for determining the particular laws of motion instituted by God, while insisting that any law of action at a distance would constitute an additional kind of law, and therefore would be justified only if the laws of collision alone were inadequate for achieving God’s purposes. One of the merits of this suggestion is that it acknowledges the empirical nature of our investigation of the laws of physics, while providing an a priori presumption in favor of pure mechanism against Newtonian attractionism. 21. For further discussion of the inviolability of substantial essences and their relation to the freely ordained laws of nature, see Chapter 3. 22. Lennon (1980, 818ff.). 23. Malebranche returned to Fontenelle’s objection in the Entretiens sur la métaphysique et sur la religion, fi rst published in 1688, where he offers a response that suggests some measure of influence by Bayle. Malebranche acknowledges that at the moment of contact, the impenetrability of the bodies would necessarily determine God to alter the motion of one of them, however he insists that this in no way proves “that a moving body can, by means of

Notes

24.

25. 26. 27.

28. 29.

30.

31.

32.

33.

34.

181

something belonging to it, move another body which it encounters” (OCM XII, 164; JS 118). Mori goes so far as to say that, for Bayle, the Quod Nescis Argument constitutes “the only possible foundation of occasionalism from a philosophical point of view” (Mori 1999, 95). However, as we shall see, this requires some qualification. Cf. OCM III, 227–28; LO 670–71; OCM II, 315; LO 449–50. Cf. Nadler (2000, 122–23). Nadler argues that certain passages in Malebranche hint at a broader application of the argument to cases of body-body and body-mind interaction. For further detail concerning Malebranche’s use of the Quod Nescis Argument, see Nadler (1999) and Nadler (2000, 121–25). For a clear application of the argument to ideas, volitions, and other mental modifications, see OD III, 787a. This is not to suggest that such considerations are entirely absent from Malebranche’s works. In the fi rst edition of the Conversations chrétiennes, Malebranche offers an argument against the real causal efficacy of bodies that is very much like the one I attribute to Bayle. He writes: les corps ne sçavent pas même ni la grosseur ni le mouvement de ceux qu’ils rencontrent. Il faut, ce me semble, qu’une intelligence, et une même intelligence, produise et règle tous les mouvements de la matière, puisque la communication des mouvements est toûjours la même dans les mêmes rencontres. (OCM IV, 22) Interestingly, the argument does not appear in subsequent editions of the Conversations. “Corpora quae moventur modo magis modo minus sui motus communicant cum corporibus occurentibus; communicant magis, si corpus occurens sit majus, et minus, si sit minus. Hinc sequitur eam communicationem fluere ab aliqua causa quae perfecte cognoscat rationem magnitudinis corporis occurrentis ad magnitudinem mobilis; atqui nulla causa corporea est ejusmodi, ergo corpora non sunt causa motus quem videntur cum aliis communicare.” “Si dicas motum projectorum durare virtute legis naturalis qua statutum est ut corpora quantum est in se, maneant in eodem semper statu, hoc ipso recurris ad Deum immediate moventem corpora projecta, leges enim naturales nullius sunt efficaciae, nisi si agens aliquod eas exequatur, atqui illud agens non potest esse aliquod corpus . . . ergo est ipse Deus.” Cf. OD IV, 487. “Il y a des gens qui par la Nature n’entendent autre chose que la force d’exécuter ce que Dieu prescrit; ainsi la nature du feu ne sera qu’une certaine loi que Dieu lui a imposée. L’Auteur [Boyle] dit avec raison que c’est parler figurément et improprement, et il en allegue cette preuve, entre autres, c’est qu’un corps ne connaît rien, et ne peut par conséquent recevoir un ordre, ni se préparer à l’exécution, ni apliquer sa vertu conformément à cela. Ce raisonnement est demonstratif contre ceux qui croïent que les corps ont reçu de Dieu la force de se mouvoir.” “We have no distinct idea that could make us comprehend how a being that is not self-existent should, however, be the master of its own actions [agisse pourtant par lui-meme]. Zoroaster will say that the free will given to man is not capable of giving him an actual determination since it exists continuously and totally by the action of God” (DHC “Manicheans” rem. D, 306; P 149). Bayle repeats the claim that the doctrine of continuous creation cannot be reconciled with the attribution of freedom of indifference to fi nite spiritual substances at DHC “Spinoza” rem. O, 262b; P 314–15. Cf. OD III, 785a.

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35. For a discussion of La Forge’s formulation of the argument, see Nadler (1998). Clatterbaugh discusses Le Grand’s “Divine Concursus Argument” in Clatterbaugh (1999, 107–8). Malebranche’s use of the argument is discussed in Sleigh (1990b) and Pessin (2000). 36. I have been aided in my thinking about these issues by Sleigh (1990b) and Philip Quinn (1988). 37. Nor is this a mere abstract possibility. As Daniel Garber has argued, Descartes may well have held that God is causally responsible for the being of substances in a way that leaves open the possibility that fi nite objects are real partial causes of (at least some of) their states. According to Garber, while it is true for Descartes that God is a cause of both the being of each substance and its states, Descartes is careful to distinguish the two causal roles. Although God is a cause of the motion of bodies, God moves bodies in the same way that we do—by pushing bodies through space in the way our mind moves its legs when it wills to walk. Now because motion in a body is the result of all of the various component motions imparted to it, God’s causal production of motion in bodies in no way precludes other real efficacious causes of motion in the same bodies (Garber 1987). More recently, Philip L. Quinn has defended a version of continuous creation according to which at every moment God’s causal sustenance is responsible for the existence of every substance, whereas the properties of these substances are (at least in some instances) determined by fi nite causes. As Quinn puts the point concerning a lit match that causes a container of water to be heated, “God and the lit match collaborate to produce the heated water: God provides the water, and the lit match provides the heat” (Quinn 1988, 70). 38. Quoted in Clatterbaugh (1999, 59). 39. Other formulations of the argument can be found at OCM X, 50 and OCM III, 237–43; LO 676–80. 40. This point is made more clearly in the Méditations chrétiennes, where Malebranche writes “body is in rest because God always creates it or conserves it in the same place; it is in motion because God always creates it or conserves it successively in different places: un corps est en repos, parce que Dieu le crée ou le conserve toûjours dans le même lieu: il est en mouvement, parce que Dieu le crée ou le conserve toûjours succesivement en differens lieux” (OCM X, 50). 41. Pyle (2003, 111–12). Although he is somewhat less explicit, Nadler makes largely the same point, arguing that “when God conserves/recreates a body, he does not sustain that body in abstraction (‘God cannot create a body that is nowhere’); rather, it must be recreated at each moment in some particular place and in some specific relations of distance to other bodies. . . . Presumably, because God is required to sustain not only bodies in existence, but also minds, similar considerations would establish God as the sole cause of states—sensations, perceptions, and volitions—of fi nite minds” (Nadler 2000, 127–28). 42. In an interesting discussion, Andrew Pessin also argues that in order for continuous creation to yield occasionalism some principle like PCM must be invoked (Pessin 2000, 431–32). However, from this Pessin somewhat hastily concludes that rather than appealing to continuous creation to ground occasionalism, it is only Malebranche’s prior commitment to occasionalism that justifies him in asserting PCM. Yet, the mere fact that additional metaphysical principles may be needed to move from (WC) to (SC) fails to establish that continuous creation provides no independent support for occasionalism. To be sure, the premises Pessin considers on

Notes

43.

44. 45. 46.

47. 48. 49.

50.

51. 52.

53. 54.

55.

183

Malebranche’s behalf would be question-begging against the opponents of occasionalism, but for all that, an appeal to commonly accepted principles to fi ll the logical gap has not been ruled out. As we shall see, this is precisely Bayle’s strategy. Nadler (1998, 221). Similarly, Pyle asserts that “this argument is perfectly general, applying to minds as well as bodies. Just as God cannot create a body without determinate values for its size, shape, and position, so He cannot create a mind without a corresponding set of psychological modes, i.e. perceptions and inclinations” (Pyle 2003, 113). Pyle (2003, 111). “comme un être sans forme, comme une espece, ou quelqu’autre des universaux de la Logique. Je suis un Individu” (OD III, 787b). “Dieu veut qu’il ait un tel monde. Sa volonté est toute-puissante: voilà donc ce monde fait. Que Dieu ne veüille plus qu’il y ait de monde: le voilà donc anéanti. Car assurément le monde dépend des volontez du Créateur. Si le monde subsiste, c’est donc que Dieu continuë de vouloir que le monde soit. La conservation des créatures n’est donc de la part de Dieu que leur création continuée. . . . la création ne passe point, puisqu’en Dieu la conservation et la création ne sont qu’une même volonté, et qui par consequent est nécessairement suivie des mêmes effets.” This pattern of reasoning is also suggested by Malebranche’s formulation of the argument at OCM X, 50. Cf. Sleigh (1990b, 178–79). Several commentators have suggested that Malebranche’s argument for occasionalism faces a particular difficulty in ruling out either causal overdetermination or divine concurrence. See, for example, Sleigh (1990b, 191, note 27); Pessin (2000). Jolley offers a related criticism in his introduction to the Dialogues. In his less cautious moments Malebranche suggests the stronger thesis that if God is cause of some state of affairs p obtaining, then God wills that p obtain. However, for reasons both theological and philosophical, I think, Malebranche would resist this characterization of his position. This point has been made by Sleigh (1990b, 191) and Pessin (2000, 432). Cf. “For, take note, God cannot do the impossible, or that which contains a manifest contradiction. He cannot will what cannot be conceived. Thus He cannot will that this chair exist, without at the same time willing that it exist either here or there and without His will placing it somewhere, since you cannot conceive of a chair existing unless it exists somewhere, either here or elsewhere” (OCM XII, 156; JS 111–12). Cf. “For it is a contradiction—a contradiction, I say—that bodies can act on bodies” (OCM XII, 154). Still its not clear that Malebranche’s argument entitles him to the claim that God alone can be the cause of the spatial location of created bodies. However, I have granted this point for the purpose of exposition. For an interestingly different reading of Malebranche’s argument, although one which I think lacks sufficient textual support, see Pessin (2000, 422–26). It may be worth pointing out that Bayle formulates the argument in just this way in his lectures on metaphysics. With regard to the production of physical states of affairs, he writes “according to the hypothesis of the moderns, nothing is produced among bodies except local motion. Therefore, if creatures cannot produce local motion, it is true that creatures can produce nothing.” Bayle goes on to rehearse the familiar argument according to which states of motion and rest are simply the result of God’s creation of bodies in determinate locations over time (OD IV, 487).

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56. Malebranche presents a similar line of argument in the Méditations chrétiennes, where after rehearsing the Argument from Continuous Creation, the Word goes on to observe: I assure you that you will never clearly conceive other principles of the changes that occur in the world than those that depend on motion, for even the figure of bodies depends on it. . . . Admit then, my son, that God does everything: Je t’assure que tu ne concevras jamais clairement d’autres principes des changemens qui arrivent dans le monde, que ceux qui dépendent du mouvement, car la figure même des corps en depend . . . Reconnais donc, mon fi ls, que Dieu fait tout. (OCM X, 51) Cf. OCM II, 313–14; LO 448–49. 57. Malebranche sometimes offers a second consideration for the same conclusion, arguing that in order for one body, A, to be a true efficient cause of motion in another body, B, there would have to be a transference of motor force from body A to body B at the moment that A sets B in motion. However, bodies do not have a motor force that sets or keeps them in motion. Rather, the motive force resides in God’s will alone. Now, because a cause cannot communicate what it does not possess, it follows that no body is the true cause of motion, or indeed of any physical change. See, for example, OCM II, 313; LO 448. 58. Nadler (2000, 137, note 21). 59. Pessin also points out that Malebranche does not apply the continuous creation argument to fi nite mental substance, although the reasons he cites are different from my own. 60. In fact Bayle may have been influenced by Malebranche, since there is one text in which Malebranche anticipates Bayle’s argument. In the Conversations chrétiennes, Malebranche argues as follows: All volitions of creatures are inefficacious in themselves. Only the one who gives being can give modifications of being, since the modifications of being are just the beings themselves in such or such a manner. . . . For what is more evident than that if God, for example, always conserves a body in the same place, no creature will be able to put it in another . . . ? It is the same with the modifications of spirits. If God conserves or creates the soul with an unpleasant modification, such as pain, no spirit will be able to relieve it, nor make it feel pleasure, if God does not cooperate with it to execute its desires: Toutes les volontéz des créatures sont par elles-même inefficaces. Il n’y a que celui qui donne l’être, qui puisse donner les maniéres de l’être, puisque les maniéres des êtres ne sont que les êtres mêmes de telle ou telle façon. . . . Car qu’y a-t-il de plus évident, que si Dieu, par exemple, conserve un corps toûjours dans le même lieu, nulle créature ne pourra le mettre dans un autre. . . . C’est la même chose des maniéres d’être des esprits. Si Dieu conserve ou crée l’ame dans une maniére d’être qui l’affl ige, telle qu’est la douleur, nul esprit ne pourra l’en délivrer, ni lui faire sentir du plaisir; si Dieu ne s’accord avec lui pour éxecuter ses desirs. (OCM XI, 160) 61. In the article “Rodon” Bayle sketches an argument for the more limited claim that a created being must be sustained in existence at each moment by a continued act of creation: One must reject the most manifest notions or agree that a being drawn out of nothingness by the infi nite power of the creator cannot have in itself any cause of its existence. Therefore, it can continue to exist only by the same power that produced it at the beginning. Therefore, it is created at each moment of its duration—that is, it exists at each moment only because God continues to will what he willed when this being began to exist. This act of the divine will cannot cease to create while it subsists, since it created at the

Notes

62.

63. 64. 65.

66.

67.

68.

69.

185

fi rst moment of the creature’s existence: Il faut rejetter les notions les plus manifestes, ou tomber d’accord qu’un être tiré du néant par la vertu infi nie du Créateur, ne peut avoir en lui-même aucune cause de son existence: il ne peut donc continuer d’exister que par la même vertu qui l’a produit au commencement: il est donc créé dans tous les momens de sa durée; c’est-à-dire il n’existe à chaque moment, qu’à cause que Dieu continue de vouloir ce qu’il a voulu, lors que cet être a commencé d’exister. Cet acte de la volonté divine ne peut point cesser d’être créatif pendant qu’il subsiste, puis qu’il l’a été au prémier moment de l’existence de la créature. (DHC “Rodon” rem. D, 65; cf. DHC “Zabarella” rem. H, 531b) Bayle was, of course, aware of Descartes’s more ambitious argument in the Third Meditation. See OD IV, 477. “Vous voyez que par raport au premier instant il [Jaquelot] donne toute l’activité au Créateur, et qu’il ne laisse aux Créatures que la qualité d’êtres passifs. Or elles ont autant de besoin d’être créées au second instant qu’au premier, puis que leur conservation est une création continuée, il doit donc dire qu’elles sont autant un être passif au second instant qu’au premier.” Among the Scholastic theses that Bayle defended for his master’s thesis at the University of Toulouse was “nulla causa potest Physice agere, nisi actu existat” (OD V–1, 5). “ce qui se conserve, agit; or, ce qui agit, existe, et rien ne peut agir avant que d’avoir son existence complete, donc si une Créature se conservoit, elle agiroit avant que d’être » (OD III, 788a). Bayle never seriously grapples with the possibility that God’s creation might literally be continuous—that is, that it might amount to simply sustaining in being what he has previously created. For Bayle understands the theological doctrine to entail that at each moment God recreates every creature de novo. This is of a piece with his commitment to an atomistic conception of time. Cf. DHC “Zenon d’Elée” rem. F, 538–39. “il est certain que la cause n’enferme point dans son idée une priorité de tems par rapport à son effet, et que cela est sur-tout vrai quant à une cause toutepuissante qui n’a qu’à vouloir pour produire actuellement tout ce qu’elle veut.” “Nec dicas creaturam in instanti B: agere pro conservatione sui, in instanti C: nam hoc Physicè impossibile est. . . . nullam potest edere actionem physicam, nisi pro tempore praesenti. Verbi gratiâ nemo potest edere motum localem hodiè, per quem reddatur cras actu ambulans.” “Supposons que la creature soit produite de nouveau à chaque instant; accordons aussi que l’instant exclut toute priorité de temps, étant indivisible: mais faisons remarquer qu’il n’exclut pas la priorité de nature, ou ce qu’on appelle anteriorité in Signo rationis, et qu’elle suffit. La production, ou action, par laquelle Dieu produit, est anterieure de nature à l’existence de la creature qui est produite, la creature prise en elle même, avec sa nature et ses proprietés nécessaires, est anterieure à ses affections et à ses actions; et cependant toutes ces choses se trouvent dans le même moment.” Bayle was hardly unaware of the distinction Leibniz draws between logical and temporal priority. Indeed, Bayle himself appeals to the distinction in more than one place in those texts against which the Theodicée is directed. Thus, for example, Bayle argues against the voluntarist account of eternal truths, arguing that there is a logical (but not temporal) priority of these truths to God’s cognition of them (OD III, 409–10; cf. OD III, 289b). What Bayle objects to in the present case, then, is not the viability of the distinction between logical and temporal priority, but rather the conceptual coherence of the claim that an incomplete object can be a genuine efficient cause.

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70. One possible line of argument to be found in the Systema is that the action of fi nite material substances is attributed to the matter as modifi ed by the form. Bayle’s example is of a sword. The action of cutting is attributed to the iron of which the sword is composed, while the shape determines the action (OD IV, 286). From this one might infer that it is only the substance as determinately modified that is capable of acting. 71. “l’on ne sauroit soûtenir sans admettre des absurditez inconcevables, qu’il y a une distinction réelle entre la substance des esprits, leurs facultez, et les actes de ces facultez. La substance spirituelle, sa faculté de penser, la pensée qu’elle a dans chaque moment, ne sont qu’une seule chose. . . . [A]insi l’action créatrice qui tombe sur la substance des esprits, et sur leur capacité de penser, tombe nécessairement sur leur pensée actuelle. Il y auroit contradiction que de trois choses réellement identifiées Dieu en créât deux et ne créât pas la troisiéme.” 72. Malebranche makes clear that in his view there is no real distinction between the soul and its faculties. “It should not be imagined that the soul’s different faculties, of which the understanding and the will are the chief ones, are entities different from the soul itself” (OCM III, 40; LO 560). However, given his assertion that the essence of the soul is substantial thought, it is much less clear whether Malebranche would accept Bayle’s reduction of the will itself to individual volitions. 73. Bayle discusses several arguments for the claim that only an infi nite being can create in his lectures on metaphysics (OD IV, 470–71). 74. OD III, 789a; OD IV, 281. For more on this criticism, see Chapter 7. 75. In considering objections to the view Bayle does concede that there is some distinction between mode and substance, to the extent that they “compose a state that is not essential to the thing,” but he reiterates his point that this does not amount to a real distinction, since shape cannot exist without body (OD IV, 500). 76. “Certum etiam est distantiam non superaddere entitatem aliquam rei distanti, neque similitudinem superaddere aliquid rei simili. Nam Petrus per se ipsum, et sine ullo ente adventitio, est similis Joanni in natura humana.” 77. OD III, 782b. 78. According to Bayle, all Christian theologians agree that moral responsibility (and so, divine reward and punishment) presuppose freedom of indifference. Even Calvin, who defends the justice of divine punishment of postlapsarian humans despite their loss of free will, holds that God could not have punished Adam had he not acted with freedom of indifference (DHC “Synergistes” rem. C, 219). 79. “Il [Jaquelot] prouve, contre Spinoza, la liberté du Créateur, par celle que nous éprouvons dans notre ame; mais il est certain que notre expérience de liberté n’est pas une bonne raison de croire que nous soions libres; et je n’ai vu encore personne, qui ait prouvé qu’il soit possible qu’un Esprit créé soit la cause efficiente de ses volitions. Toutes les meilleures preuves, qu’on allegue, sont que sans cela l’homme ne pécheroit point, et que Dieu seroit l’Auteur des mauvaises pensées, aussi bien que des bonnes. Cela est bon à dire de Chrétien à Chrétien; mais en disputant contre des Impies, on tombe par là dans la pétition du principe.” 80. OD IV, 44a. Cf. OD III, 785–87. 81. “J’ai sentiment interieur que je ne suis point invinciblement porter à l’amour des biens particuliers: je sçai donc que j’ai la liberté de les aimer, ou de ne les point aimer” (OCM VI, 163). Cf. OCM V, 118. 82. OCM V, 118–19. 83. For the claim that Bayle’s argument is influenced by Spinoza, see Mori (1999, 174–75).

Notes

187

84. “Nous pourrons sentir quelquefois que les actes de notre volonté nous plaisent infi niment, et qu’ils nous menent selon la pente de nos plus fortes inclinations. Nous ne sentirons point de contrainte.” 85. “Je sens clairement et distinctement que j’existe, et néanmoins je n’existe point par moi même. Donc quoi que je sente clairment et distinctement que je fais ceci ou cela, il ne s’ensuit pas que je le fasse par moi-même. Prenezgarde, je vous prie, que par le sentiment clair et net que nous avons de notre existence, nous ne discernons pas si nous existons par nous-mêmes. . . . Nous ne sentons point l’action créatrice qui nous conserve. . . . Disons aussi que le sentiment clair et net que nous avons des actes de notre volonté, ne nous peut pas faire discerner si nous nous les donnons nous mêmes, ou si nous les recevons de la même cause qui nous donne l’existence.” 86. OCM III, 229; LO 671. 87. For example, in the Objections to Poiret Bayle observes that “the Cartesians are attacked, because they are accused of absolving creatures of all fault, and of considering them as a piece of wood, moved by external forces: magna enim invidia laborant Cartesiani, quasi creaturam ab omni culpa absolvant, ut quae non ipsis aliter se habeat quam nervis alienis mobile lignum” (OD IV, 153b). 88. “Personne ne doutera qu’il [Villemandy] n’ait attaqué fortement l’Auteur de la Recherche de la Vérité, sur la force qu’il attribuë aux esprits d’arrêter sur un objet particulier le mouvement que Dieu leur imprime vers le bien en général. C’est la seule chose qui embarasse dans le systême des causes occasionnelles; car si on pouvait accorder que l’ame de l’homme n’est point la cause efficiente de ses volontez, on iroit de plein pied par tout ailleurs; mais la Religion engage nécessairement à dire, que l’ame est la cause réelle de ses volontez; et dès là on peut bien prouver que le corps n’est point la cause efficiente du mouvement, mais non pas qu’il soit impossible que Dieu lui donne cette efficace.” Nor did Bayle change his mind in his later years. On the contrary he observes that “it cannot be denied, even if one fi nds this system [occasionalism] preferable to all others, that it is subject to many difficulties, of which the principal one seems to me to result from the question of human freedom: On ne peut nier lors même qu’on trouve ce systême préférable à tous les autres, qu’il n’ait beauccoup de difficultez, dont la principale ce me semble résulte de la question de liberté de l’homme” (OD III, 892b). Bayle goes on to dismiss other objections to occasionalism as “more popular than philosophical.” Cf. OD I, 335a. 89. “Je puis vous dire en passant qu’un Mallebranchiste ne s’embarasseroit guere de ces objections; il a fermé la porte à la principale en laissant aux esprits créez l’activité à l’égard des volitions bonnes ou mauvaises moralement” (OD III, 790a). Cf. DHC “Averroes” rem. E, 386b. 90. Schmaltz (1996) and Sleigh, Chappell, and Della Rocca (1998) suggest that Malebranche offers incompatible solutions to the problem. For the claim that Malebranche adhered to a single, unified theory of human freedom, see Kremer (2000). 91. Sleigh, Chappell, and Della Rocca (1998, 1243). 92. Malebranche grants that such terms as “rest,” “motion,” and “consent” are no more than simple metaphors when applied to the will, but he maintains that such figurative language is inevitable in the absence of a clear and distinct idea of the soul (OCM VII, 568). 93. In the last edition of Éclaircissement I to be published in his lifetime, Malebranche adds an extended response to the argument that continuous creation is incompatible with human freedom. It is not unlikely that Malebranche’s primary target is Bayle. Malebranche admitted in a letter to Leibniz that Bayle’s later works “often irritated” him (OCM XIX, 814).

188

Notes

94. The difference between this fi nal account of human freedom and those that preceded it may largely be one of emphasis, since as early as the fi rst edition of Éclaircissement I Malebranche had maintained that “our consent or our inactivity upon perceiving a particular good is nothing real or positive on our part” (OCM III, 20; LO 548). Similarly, he observed that “the formal aspect of concupiscence has nothing more real about it than the formal aspect of sin” (OCM III, 35; LO 557; Malebranche’s emphasis). 95. DHC “Lubin” rem. B, 199; DHC “Euclide” rem. B, 414. See also DHC “Manichéens” rem. D, 305; P 147–48, especially footnote 53. 96. Cf. Mori (1999, 84–87). 97. OD IV, 159b. Cf. OCM III, 17. 98. “unde est quod cognoscitur? Quare inquiritur ejus causa? Nihilum habetne proprietates, causam et conceptum?” (OD IV, 161a). 99. “ille status non est nihil. Ergo illius requiritur causa positiva” (OD IV, 160b). 100. Cf. Sleigh, Chappell, Della Rocca (1998, 1244). 101. “Je suis persuadé que comme il n’y a que Dieu qui puisse mouvoir les corps, il n’y a que Dieu qui puisse communiquer des idées à notre ame” (OD III, 342a). 102. “Si vous me répliquiez que la doctrine des Cartésiens porte à croire qu’il est aussi la cause des actes de notre volonté, je vous répliquerois à mon tour que je n’entre point dans ce mystere. C’est un noli me tangere. . . . La philosophie n’y peut voir goûte, il faut recourir humblement aux lumières révélées.”

NOTES TO CHAPTER 5 1. OD I, 635; L 455–63. A Latin version of this article had appeared in Acta eruditorum in March 1686. 2. G IV, 350–92; L 629–76. 3. Basnage to Leibniz, undated (G III, 91–93). 4. G VI, 16–20. For a discussion of Leibniz’s comments on the Projet, see Bianchi (1988) and Bianchi (1990). For further information concerning the personal relations between Leibniz and Bayle, see Barber (1955, 58–61 and 71–75). 5. Leibniz, who on numerous occasions expressed his respect for Bayle’s critical acumen, welcomed the opportunity that Bayle’s criticisms afforded to elaborate and develop his system. Typical of this attitude is Leibniz’s remark upon reviewing the second edition of the Dictionnaire: “I was surprised all over again at the fecundity, the force, and the brilliance of his thought. No Academic, not even Carneades, could have brought out the problems better. Although very clever in such meditations, M. Foucher was nowhere near it, and for myself I fi nd that nothing in the world is of more use in resolving these problems” (G IV, 567; WF 120). For his part, Bayle’s expressions of admiration for Leibniz so far exceed the conventional formulas of seventeenth-century politesse that their sincerity is beyond question. Most striking in this regard is Bayle’s observation that “[Leibniz] est de ces hommes rares qui ne trouvent point de bornes dans la sphere du mérite humain, ils la remplissent toutes » (DHC “Pellisson” rem. C, 642a)—an expression that defies translation, but which might be serviceably rendered: “In the field of human endeavor, [Leibniz] is one of those rare men whose merit knows no limit.” 6. The stages of the debate are as follows: (a) Leibniz, “Système nouveau,” Journal des Savants, June 27, 1695 (G IV, 477–87; L 453–59), (b) Bayle, DHC “Rorarius” rem. H, (c) Leibniz, “Éclaircissement des difficultés que Monsieur

Notes

7.

8. 9. 10. 11.

12. 13.

14. 15. 16.

17.

18. 19.

189

Bayle a trouvées dans le système nouveau de l’union de l’ame et du corps,” Histoire des ouvrages des savants, July 1698 (G IV, 517–24; L 492–97), (d) Bayle, DHC (2nd ed., 1702), “Rorarius” rem L, (e) Leibniz, “Réponse aux reflexions contenues dans la seconde Edition du Dictionnaire Critique de M. Bayle, article Rorarius, sur le systême de l’harmonie preétablie” (G IV, 554–71; L 574–85), (f) Bayle to Leibniz, October 3, 1702 (G III, 64–65), (g) Leibniz to Bayle, December 5, 1702 (G III, 65–69). The letter from Leibniz to Basnage, reprinted at G IV, 498–500, formed the basis for the articles of February and November 1696 that appeared in the Histoire des ouvrages des savans. For an account of the relations between these three texts, see WF 61–64. Bayle alludes to Leibniz’s text at OD III, 995b. For an excellent discussion of Leibniz’s early metaphysics, see Mercer and Sleigh (1995). Cf. Rutherford (1995b, 124). Leibniz argues for the essential unity of substance in a number of letters to Arnauld. See Leibniz to Arnauld, December 8, 1686 (G II, 76–77; MP 93–95); April 30, 1687 (G II, 97–98; MP 120–23); and October 9, 1687 (G II, 118–20; MP 152–54). Rutherford plausibly suggests that Leibniz’s rationale for this view is that “whatever is prior in order of existence must also be prior in order of understanding” (Rutherford 1995b, 135). Mercer and Sleigh refer to this requirement as the Principle of Causal SelfSufficiency, which they formalize as follows: “for any being S, strictly speaking, S can be said to have a property p and p can be said to exist in S just in case the complete reason for p can be found in the nature of S” (Mercer and Sleigh 1995, 72). Arnauld to Leibniz, March 4, 1687 (G II, 84–85; MP 105–6). Cf. WF 145. For a useful discussion of Leibniz’s conception of the “way of influence,” see O’Neill (1993). At times Leibniz is even prepared to acknowledge an important debt to Malebranche’s treatment of causation. Thus, speaking of the preestablished harmony, Leibniz allows that “it can be said that it is not so much an overthrow of [Malebranche’s] doctrine as an advancement, and that it is to him that I am indebted for my foundations on this subject” (Leibniz to l’Hôpital, September 30, 1695; quoted in Sleigh 1990a, 151). However, given his commitment to the Principle of Causal Self-Sufficiency, Leibniz would not be prepared to consider such entities as substances. Indeed, he frequently asserts that Malebranche’s system amounts to a form of Spinozism, insofar as it implies that God is the only genuine substance and all other beings are merely modes of God, who is their sufficient cause. I shall return to this point later. For a discussion of Leibniz’s various criticisms of occasionalism, see, among others, Rutherford (1993); Sleigh (1990b); and Woolhouse (1988). The system of preestablished harmony is, of course, a comprehensive theory of substantial causation. However, Leibniz often speaks of it more narrowly as an account of mind-body interaction to emphasize its immunity to the various difficulties concerning causation between mental and material substances to which Cartesian dualism was commonly thought to give rise. Thus, in the Système nouveau Leibniz introduces the topic of causality with the observation: “when I set myself to think about the union of the soul with the body I was as it were carried back into the open sea. For I could fi nd no way of explaining how the body can make something pass over into the soul or vice versa, or how one created substance can communicate with another”

190 Notes

20. 21. 22. 23.

24. 25.

26.

27. 28. 29. 30. 31.

(G IV, 483; WF 17). This emphasis helps to explain Bayle’s tendency to portray the preestablished harmony as above all an account of mind-body relations. Lennon (1993b, 185). For a general account of the role of the intelligibility requirement in Leibniz’s philosophy, see Rutherford (1992). For a treatment of Leibniz’s application of the principle to his debate with the occasionalists, see Rutherford (1993). “Quod res aliqua fiat per miraculum, aut juxta leges naturae, non arguit aliquam minorem, vel majorem convenientiam cum essentia creaturarum” (OD IV, 504). Cf. OD III, 883, note p. Leibniz alludes to this objection in De Ipsa Natura where he observes: “[Sturm] believed that the laws of motion are arbitrary, a view that seems to me not to be altogether coherent. For I believe that God came to decree those laws observed in nature through considerations of wisdom and reasons of order” (G IV, 506; AG 157). Jolley (2005, 127). Cf. Rutherford (1993, 144–45). Interestingly, this line of argument may be more to the point against Bayle who seems to endorse a more robust voluntarism with respect to the laws of nature. Bayle’s worry is that if God’s nature is such that he must always act in the manner that is most worthy of his wisdom, then it is impossible that what does not occur could have occurred. For Bayle the insistence upon God’s sovereign freedom is the surest, and perhaps the only way to stave off determinism and, indeed, the collapse of logical into causal possibility. He writes: Here is another very shocking dogma: that things that have never occurred and will never occur are not possible. . . . I do not see how those who say that God is determined by his infi nite wisdom to do what is most worthy of him can consistently deny the doctrine of this philosopher: Voici un autre dogme fort choquant: c’est que les choses, qui n’ont jamais été, et qui ne seront jamais, ne sont point possibles. . . . je ne voi pas que ceux qui disent, que Dieu est determiné par sa sagesse infi nie à faire ce qui est le plus digne de lui, puissent nier sans inconséquence la doctrine de ce Philosophe. (DHC “Beringer” rem. H, 527) For a rejection of Spinoza’s reduction of logical and causal possibility, see DHC “Chrysippe” rem. S, 174. “lorsque la difference des deux cas peut être diminuée au dessous de toute grandeur donnée, in datis, ou dans ce qui est posé, il faut qu’elle se puisse trouver aussi diminuée au dessous de toute grandeur donnée in quaesitis, ou dans ce qui en résulte” (NRL, July 1687, 746; Leibniz’s italics). Leibniz offers a fuller version of this argument at G IV, 594–95. Leibniz alludes to this objection in his reply to the second edition of the Dictionnaire, see G IV, 567–68. In a text sent to Bayle via Basnage de Beauval, Leibniz portrays the occasionalist thesis as a direct consequence of the account of matter as res extensa (G IV, 467). In the Système nouveau Leibniz allows that “all things, with all their reality, are continually produced by the power [vertu] of God” (G IV, 483; L 746). “La difficulté que M. de Leibnits a formée contre le système des Carthesiens sur l’essence de la matiere, m’a paru belle, et digne d’un esprit aussi fort et aussi mathematicien que le sien. Je ne suis pourtant point convaincu qu’il faille mettre l’essence du corps dans un attribut different de l’etendue: parceque tout autre attribut me paroistroit aussi mal aisé à accorder avec la resistance que font les corps les uns aux autres, que l’etendue; car je ne sçaurois pas comprendre qu’un corps puisse avoir en lui mesme et comme une chose

Notes

32.

33. 34.

35.

36. 37. 38. 39.

40.

41.

42.

191

interne ou intrinseque, un effort pour demeurer en un certain lieu. Cet effort doit donc proceder d’un principe exterieur au corps.” “je souhaiterois d’entendre plus distinctement, pourquoy la substance créée ne sçauroit avoir une telle force, car je croirois plustot que sans cela ce ne seroit pas une substance, la nature de la substance consistant à mon avis dans cette tendence reglée, de laquelle les phenomenes naissent par ordre, qu’elle a reçue d’abord et qui luy est conservée par l’auteur des choses, de qui toutes les realités ou perfections emanent tousjours par une maniere de creation continuelle.” For Anaxagoras’s rejection of the vacuum, see OD IV, 276 and DHC “Zenon d’Elée” rem. I, 544a; P 378. “Je n’objecte point à ce Philosophe, qu’il reconnoissoit de la différence entre les parties de la Matiere avant qu’elles fussent mues. Cette objection m’a semblé toujours très-foible: je conçois très-clairement que la division suppose la distinction, et qu’une cheville de fer fichée dans une piéce de bois, et parfaitement en repos autour du bois parfaitement en repos, est aussi différente du bois, que si elle se mouvoit, et le bois aussi.” Bayle provides a fuller defense of the actuality of parts prior to motion in his lectures of physics. First, he rejects the notion of potential parts made actual only by “a kind of motion that is called division,” arguing that if two things can be made distinct, they have always been distinct. Second, he maintains that objects must be individuated on the basis of intrinsic features. Therefore, the parts of the continuum cannot be made actually distinct by an extrinsic act of division. Finally, he argues that the various parts of the continuum are the subjects of incompatible properties and that incompatible attributes imply real distinction (OD IV, 299). For a discussion of several of these arguments, see Holden (2004b). “censemus rem quamlibet individuari posse suammet entitatem, ut manifestum est, quoad spiritus” (OD IV, 483). Des Chene explores a similar suggestion with respect to Suarez’s theory of individuation (Des Chene 1996, 374–75). Lennon (1993b, 186). Bayle expresses deep reservations about animal automata on several occasions. He observes, for example, that our commonsense belief that animals are conscious beings is “revêtuë d’une évidence presque invincible” (OD I, 8a). Cf. DHC “Rorarius” rem. B, 76a. “[Daniel] shows that the arguments of the Cartesians lead us to judge that other men are machines. This is perhaps the weakest side of Cartesianism” (DHC “Rorarius” rem. G, 81b; P 231). In an earlier remark to the same article, Bayle had characterized Daniel’s accusation of solipsism in the Voyage du monde de Descartes as the strongest objection not only to animal mechanism, but to the whole of Cartesianism. As might be expected, Leibniz embraces Daniel’s critique, observing that those who advance this objection against the Cartesians “have said exactly and precisely what I need for this half of my hypothesis, which relates to the body; ont dit justement et precisement ce qu’il me faut pour cette moitié de mon hypothese, qui regard le corps” (G IV, 559). Apparently, Leibniz’s defense of the possibility of such automata failed to convince Bayle, since when he returns to the A Priori Implausibility Argument in the Réponses aux questions d’un Provincial, Bayle goes so far as to label the preestablished harmony “chimerical.” See OD III, 884b. Similarly, in a letter to Arnauld, Leibniz contends that: the hypothesis of occasional causes does not, it seems to me, satisfy a philosopher. For it introduces a sort of continual miracle, as though God were

192 Notes

43.

44.

45.

46. 47. 48.

49. 50. 51.

constantly changing the laws of bodies, on the occasion of the thoughts of minds, or changing the regular course of the thoughts of the soul by arousing in it other thoughts, on the occasion of movements of bodies. (Leibniz to Arnauld, July 4/14, 1686; G II, 57–58; MP 65) This reading of the argument has been advanced by Sleigh, and more recently, Jolley (Sleigh 1990b, 166–69; Jolley 2005, 122–24). On the other hand, Rutherford argues that Leibniz’s complaint here is closely linked to his former objection that laws must be grounded in the natures of fi nite things. As Rutherford nicely summarizes the point, “Laws of nature must be laws of natures.” Understood in this way Leibniz’s objection seems no more telling than the last and for similar reasons. For Bayle the laws of nature help to constitute the essences of things, they do not arise out of them. It is perhaps worth noting that the principle of the causal closure of the physical realm admits of both a strong and weak version. On the strong version the physical realm is causally closed if and only if every physical event has only physical causes. According to the weaker version, to say the physical realm is causally closed is to say that every physical event has a sufficient cause that is purely physical. The difference between the two is that, unlike the strong principle of causal closure, the weak version is consistent with the claim that a physical event might have a mental event as a cause, provided that causal overdetermination is possible. In his discussion of the objection Jolley seems to attribute to Leibniz a strong version of causal closure according to which “physical events have exclusively physical causes” (Jolley 2005, 123). However, it is not clear that Leibniz would accept the strong version of the principle, since he sometimes allows that human volitions are rightly considered to be causes of bodily movements. In any case, Bayle rejects both versions of the principle, so I have formulated Leibniz’s objection in terms of the weaker version. Leibniz takes a similar tack in his private reading notes on “Rorarius,” fi rst objecting that Bayle’s scenario is impossible, then conceding that God could “alter the course of bodies in such a way that the blow would not occur, without changing the nature of the soul and the natural course of its modifications” (G IV, 531). Leibniz allows that in such a case the dog’s soul would experience pain despite having been spared a blow to its body. “M. Bayle ne comprend pas non plus comment le baton influe sur l’ame, ny comment se fait l’operation miraculeuse, par laquelle Dieu accorde continuellement l’ame et le corps.” Cf. Sleigh (1990a, 150–51). Robert Adams reads Bayle as criticizing the preestablished harmony on the grounds that the internal laws of the series it posits are ad hoc insofar as we are offered no rational explanation as to why certain particular perceptions follow certain others (Adams 1996, 5–7). I agree that this is part of Bayle’s worry, however, as I argue later, Bayle is equally concerned to press the charge of arbitrariness in the specific sense that the laws of the series fail to respect certain metaphysical principles to which Leibniz and he are committed. Bayle also cites the principle “when the total cause of an effect remains the same the effect cannot change” (DHC “Rorarius” rem. L, vi, 86b; P 251). Jolley (2005, 127–28). Although Bayle and Leibniz agree in rejecting such complex, irreducible laws of nature, their reasons are significantly different. For Leibniz, it is God’s wisdom that rules out the possibility of complex events being brought about by irreducible laws of nature. For Bayle, on the other hand, it is not the case that if God were to make such a decree the result would not be a law of nature (this is why Bayle rejects Leibniz’s criticism of occasionalism). Rather

Notes

193

Bayle’s point is simply that experience shows that the world is not governed by such irreducible laws. 52. G IV, 521. Quoted in DHC “Rorarius” rem. L, viii, 87b; P 253. 53. “[C]oncerning reflex acts it must be noted that every thought [cogitationem] is essentially a reflex act. That is, it is known through itself such that by the very fact that it knows an object, it knows that it knows it, and consequently it knows its own act of knowing. In addition there are certain thoughts that are reflexive in another sense, namely those by which the soul examines its own acts in particular such that one thought is the object of another: Cicra actus reflexos observandum est, omnem cogitationem essentialiter esse actum reflexum, hoc est cognosci per se ipsam, ita ut cognoscens, hoc ipso, quod cognoscit objectum, sciat se cognoscere illud, ac per consequens cognoscat actum suum cognoscendi. Sed praeterea dantur quaedam cognitions alio sensu reflexae, illae nempe, quibus in particulari anima examinat suos actus, ita ut una cogitatio sit objectum alterius” (OD IV, 457). 54. Bayle to Leibniz, October 3, 1702 (G III, 65).

NOTES TO CHAPTER 6 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11.

12.

Labrousse (1964, 202). Brykman (1988, 270). Mori (1999, 155–65). Curley (1969, 20). This is not to suggest, of course, that Bayle was unfamiliar with the remainder of the work. He takes seriously, for example, Spinoza’s discussion of the illusion of free will in Book II (DHC “Buridan” rem. C, 710). Cf. Mori (1999, 175–81). For more on Bayle and human freedom, see Chapter 4. Curley (1969, 18). Curley (1969, 50ff.). Bennett (1984, 88–92). Bennett (1984, 89). Cf. Lettre de l’Auteur du Dictionnaire Historique et Critique, à Monsieur *** sur la question s’il a bien ou mal compris la doctrine de Spinoza (OD IV, 170a). See, for example, DHC “Spinoza” rem. DD where Bayle compares Spinoza’s attribute of extension to Aristotelian prime matter. This reading is confi rmed by Bayle’s characterization of the absolutist account of space favored by certain opponents of Cartesianism. According to Bayle these philosophers consider space to be an entity “distinct from bodies . . . [whose] indivisible, impalpable, penetrable, immobile, and infi nite extension is something real” (DHC “Spinoza” rem. B, 255b; P 293). Bayle goes on to claim that this conception of space is essentially what Spinoza ascribes to God in endowing him with the attribute of extension. The principal difference is that Spinoza holds that extension is always in motion, thereby giving rise to individual bodies. Although Bayle himself would consider the comparison between the container view of space and Spinoza’s attribute of extension imperfect (he would not want to ascribe penetrability to Spinozistic extension), the passage confi rms the suggestion that Bayle interprets Spinoza’s attribute of extension as the infi nite, extended plenum. “[M]atter per se has a plurality of parts lying one outside the other, whence it follows that the quantity of matter is matter itself: materia per se ipsam habet plures partes, extra se invicem positas, unde sequitur quantitatem materiae esse ipsam materiam” (OD IV, 229).

194

Notes

13. “ils [the Scholastics] reconnoissent la multiplicité de parties réellement distinctes les unes des autres aussi bien dans l’arbre, et dans l’air que dans un monceau de pierres; et il est certain que la continuité laisse tout autant de distinction entre les parties, que la contiguité ou que la distance.” Elsewhere, Bayle acknowledges that there are some philosophers who deny that continuous quantity is composed of really distinct parts independently of its being actually divided (DHC “Spinoza” rem. P, 264). Bayle provides a fuller defense of the actuality of parts prior to motion in his lectures on physics. First, he rejects the notion of potential parts made actual only by “a kind of motion that is called division,” arguing that if two things can be made distinct, they have always been distinct. Second, he maintains that objects must be individuated on the basis of an intrinsic characteristic. Therefore, the parts of the continuum cannot be made actually distinct by an extrinsic act of division. Finally, he argues that the various parts of the continuum are the subjects of incompatible properties and that incompatible attributes imply real distinction (OD IV, 299). For a discussion of several of these arguments, see Holden (2004b). 14. I discuss later the textual evidence for reading Spinoza as identifying substance and attribute. 15. “per το subsistere per se, certum est nos intelligere solum subsistere ab aliquot subjecto” (OD IV, 228). In the second edition of the Dictionnaire Bayle reaffi rms the conception of substance as that which exists independently of any subject of inherence (DHC “Spinoza” rem. DD, 268–69; P 330–31). To be sure, Bayle acknowledges Spinoza’s further claim that substance exists necessarily (DHC “Spinoza” rem. DD, 268b; P 330). My point here is that for Bayle the core notion of substance is simply that of having no subject of inherence. 16. Bayle offers a clear example of this line of reasoning in a discussion of polytheism among the ancients. There he argues that those pagan philosophers who make God formally extended are committed to a multiplicity of gods. He writes: there would be nothing more absurd than to say that each part of a substance is not a substance. For if they were to exist in the manner of accidents in the composite of which they are parts, if, I say, they existed in it as in their subject of inhesion, they could not be parts of a substance. Therefore, it is certain that they must exist without being the mode of a substance, or without inhering in any subject. Therefore, they have the whole essence of a substance, and consequently are substances. Therefore, since God is a substance, it must be concluded that if he is composed of parts, each of them is a substance: Il n’y auroit rien de plus absurde que de dire que les parties d’une substance ne sont pas chacune une substance; car si elles existoient à la maniere des accidens dans le composé dont elles sont des parties; si elles y existoient, dis-je, comme dans leur sujet d’inhésion, elles ne pourroient pas être des parties d’une substance. Il est donc certain qu’elles doivent exister sans être le mode d’une substance, ou sans inhérer à aucun sujet; elles ont donc toute l’essence de la substance et sont par conséquent des substances. Puis donc que Dieu est une substance, il faut conclure que s’il est composé de parties, chacune d’elles est une substance. (OD III, 225b) 17. “votre unité supersubstantielle n’est qu’une abstraction mentale selon laquelle nous considérons un tout sans être attentifs aux portions qui le composent, mais réellement il n’y a nulle distinction entre un tout et ses parties conjointes ensemble. . . . [P]our trouver quelque unité dans cet assemblage il faut recourrir aux précisions de Logique, ou en n’y considérant que l’activité répanduë par toute la masse, ou en s’élevant à quelque instant de raison dans lequel

Notes

18. 19. 20.

21. 22.

23.

24.

25.

26.

27.

28.

195

on envisage la cause comme antérieure à ses effets.” Cf. “such a substance is one only abusively and improperly, or under the arbitrary notion of a certain whole: une telle substance n’est une qu’abusivement et improprement, ou que sous la notion arbitraire d’un certain tout, ou d’un être collectif” (OD III, 286). “Evidens est partes quae componunt aliquod totum non distingui ab illo toto” (OD IV, 287). For a discussion of Leibniz’s puzzlement concerning the relation between these two components of Spinoza’s defi nition of substance, see Curley (1969, 14–18). Cf. “There is a natural revelation that extension is infi nite. . . . the idea of an infi nite extension is so clearly imprinted in the human mind that it occurs immediately and with all its luster each time we consult it: il y a une révélation naturelle, que l’étenduë est infi nite . . . l’idée d’une étenduë infi nie est si nettement empreinte dans l’esprit humain qu’elle se présente d’abord, et avec tout son éclat, toutes les fois qu’on la consulte” (OD III, 544–45). “un monde infi ni n’est autre chose qu’un assemblage d’une infi nité d’êtres limitez” (OD III, 546a). It is worth noting that Bayle denies that revelation obliges us to reject the infi nity of matter, even if it teaches that all creatures are fi nite. For according to Bayle, “the numerical infi nity of creatures in no way prevents them from being limited beings. A body is not more perfect when it exists with an infi nite number of other bodies, than if it were alone: L’infi nité numérale des créatures n’empêche point qu’elles ne soient un être borné: un corps n’est pas plus parfait lors qu’il existe avec un nombre infi ni d’autres corps, que s’il étoit tout seul” (OD III, 546a). Cf. Bennett (1984, 96) and Carriero (1995, 262–63). Schmaltz suggests there is a tension in Descartes’s account of substance in that in the Second Replies he offers an alternate defi nition of substance as that which is a bearer of properties that is not obviously equivalent to the defi nition given in the Principles (Schmaltz 1999, 177–78). “lignum quatenus est lignum, non esse substantiam, sed modum quemdam materiae” (OD IV, 227). Similarly, Bayle argues that insofar as the human body is causally dependent upon other bodies for its existence it is “not a substance, but a mode of substance” (OD IV, 229). “Aethiopem, non esse subjectum nigredinis, quia ex ante dictis materia est verum et proprium subjectum accidentium” (OD IV, 227). Some twenty years later, Bayle had not altered his position on this point. In an important discussion of the metaphysics of space, Bayle again defends the view that all accidents are separable from their subject of inherence, offering a condensed version of the example of the color of an Ethiopian (DHC “Zénon d’Elée” rem. I, note 125, 545; P 384). Bayle was certainly familiar with the letter to Oldenburg in which Spinoza allows that the ontological reducibility of tangible qualities to shape and motion has already been well established by Descartes (Letter 6; Geb IV, 25; C 178–79). Similarly, in a subsequent letter, Spinoza asserts that “all the variations of bodies happen according to the Laws of Mechanics” (Letter 13; Geb IV, 67; C 210). Thomas Holden has also argued that the Argument from Incompatible Properties fails to establish that continuous quantity is composed of actual parts, although his interest is less in Spinoza’s indivisible extended substance than in the Aristotelian conception of continuous quantity as having potential parts made actual only by an act of division (Holden 2004a, 110–14). Schmaltz makes a similar point (Schmaltz 1999, 184–85).

196

Notes

29. This explains why Bayle attributes to Spinoza that “for matter to be divided it is necessary that one of its portions be separated from the others by empty spaces” (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 260; P 307). 30. Spinoza also seems to appeal to something like the criterion of strong divisibility in a letter to Oldenburg where he argues: men are not created, but only generated, and their bodies already existed before, though formed differently. It may, indeed, be inferred, as I cheerfully acknowledge, that if one part of matter were annihilated, the whole of extension would vanish at the same time. (Letter 4; Geb IV, 14; C 172) For an excellent discussion of the Scholastic background of this passage, see Carriero (2002). 31. As might be expected, Bayle is quite clear that he takes the parts of extension to be ontologically prior to its modes. As Bayle puts the point elsewhere: Remove the form from water by a logical abstraction, you will still not arrive at a unity. You will have a substance that is extended and consequently, composed of innumerable parts that are each a true body and a material thing: Otez la forme à l’eau par une abstraction de Logique, vous ne viendrez pas pourtant à l’unité, vous aurez une substance étenduë, et composée par conséquent d’une quantité innombrable de parties qui sont chacune un vrai corps, et une matiere. (OD III, 286b) 32. Similarly, Spinoza argues in the Short Treatise that “if I want to divide water, I divide only the mode of the substance, not the substance itself; the substance is always the same, [though] now [it is the substance] of water, now [the substance] of something else” (KV I.ii.21; Geb I, 26; C 72). 33. That he reads Spinoza as offering this Argument from Weak Divisibility helps to explain why Bayle consistently maintains that if the existence of a vacuum could be demonstrated, Spinoza’s substantial monism would be undermined. Thus, for example, Bayle observes that if the vacuum did exist, “the impenetrable substance would not be a continuous whole [un tout continu], but a collection of particles, each entirely separated from the others and surrounded by a large incorporeal space” (DHC “Zénon d’Elée” rem. I, 545b; P 384). Bayle’s point is not (or at least not merely) that bodies that occupy distinct spatial locations are numerically distinct substances. Rather his claim is that Spinoza’s own defense of the indivisibility of extended substance turns in part on the impossibility of any two portions of it being separated by a vacuum. Cf. DHC “Leucippe” rem. G, 103; P 138. 34. For a different reading of Spinoza’s argument, see Bennett (1984, 97). 35. “concipimus [extensionem] tamen distincte illud esse divisibile, quia concipimus distincte illud constare partibus distinctis, quarum nulla postulat viciniam unius partis potius quam alterius, ex quo sequitur, singulas esse separabiles à se invicem, in quo consistit corporis divisibilitas.” 36. Interestingly, Charlie Huenemann reads Spinoza as appealing to what I have called the strong and weak divisibility criteria at E IP15S. However, Huenemann seems to treat the two as a single criterion (Huenemann 2004, 29–30). Further, Huenemann fails to see the connection that Bayle attempts to establish between the criterion of weak divisibility and the objection to divine immutability. As a result, he misses much of the subtlety of Bayle’s critique. 37. It is important to bear in mind that Bayle raises the issue of divisibility in order to show that God qua extended substance is mutable. This, he believes, requires only that it be shown that extension is weakly divisible. By contrast, Spinoza’s principal concern in E IP15S is to show that corporeal substance is not built up out of really distinct parts ontologically prior to the whole. This requires him to show that extension is not strongly divisible. The point is worth emphasizing, because at least one commentator has worried that there is

Notes

38.

39. 40.

41. 42.

43.

197

a tension in Spinoza’s use of the impossibility of a vacuum as part of his defense of the indivisibility of corporeal substance. Tad Schmaltz observes that the one argument for the impossibility of a vacuum to be found in Spinoza’s corpus entails that extension is divisible. The argument, which occurs in Part II of Descartes’s Principles of Philosophy, turns on the familiar Cartesian assertion that extension is the whole essence of matter, from which it follows that a vacuum, conceived as an extended region devoid of matter, is impossible. The difficulty, Schmaltz argues, is that in the same text, Spinoza argues that extension is by its nature divisible. Therefore, the argument for the impossibility of a vacuum seems to entail rather than preclude the essential divisibility of corporeal substance (Schmaltz 1999, 182–91). Schmaltz appeals to this apparent tension as motivating his claim that for Spinoza corporeal substance is best thought of not as the extended plenum, but as a kind of universal essence. However, if we recognize the distinction between two kinds of divisibility, the apparent tension dissipates, since what the DPP argument establishes is that res extensa is weakly divisible—that is, it consists of parts that are transposable with respect to one another. But what Spinoza is concerned to deny in the passage from IP15S is that extended substance is strongly divisible. Cf. OD IV, 285. In a discussion of the cosmology of Giordano Bruno, Bayle argues that a similar dispute concerning the immutability of substance between Bruno and the Scholastics equally rests on a simple equivocation: There is only a verbal dispute between [the Scholastics and Bruno] concerning the immutability, or the destructibility of all things. [The Scholastics] never held that matter qua substance, qua common subject of generations and corruptions, suffers the least change. But they maintain that the production and destruction of forms presupposes that the subject that acquires and loses them successively is in no way immutable and unalterable: Il n’y a entre eux et lui qu’une dispute de mot à l’égard de l’immutabilité, ou de la destructibilité des choses. Ils n’ont jamais prétendu que la matiere entant que substance, entant que sujet commun des générations et des corruptions, souffre le moindre changement. Mais ils soutiennent que la production, et la destruction des formes suppose que le sujet qui les aquiert, et qui les perd successivement, n’est point immuable et inalterable. (DHC “Brunus” rem. D 680b) For an excellent discussion of the Scholastic background to this objection, see Carriero (1995, 263–66). Cf. “Spinoza’s hypothesis carries with it its own antidote by the continual mutability or corruptibility he attributes to the divine nature, in light of its modalities. This corruptibility offends common sense . . . : L’Hypothese de Spinoza porte avec soi son préservatif, par la mutabilité ou par la corruptibilité continuelle qu’il attribue à la Nature Divine, eu égard aux modalitez. Cette corruptibilité souleve le sens commun” (DHC “Xenophanes” rem. L, 524). Curley appeals to Spinoza’s explicit denial of divine mutability as one of the principal objections to reading the attribute of extension as the physical plenum. See Curley (1969, 13) and Curley (1988, 34). Although he does not offer an explicit criterion of parthood, Spinoza does provide a clue as to the nature of real parts when he writes that “by a part of substance nothing can be understood except a fi nite substance” (E IP13S; Geb II, 55–56; C 420). This suggests that each part of a substance would be an entity that both exists in itself and is conceived through itself, which would entail their real distinctness from one another. Both Arnauld and More raised a version of this objection in correspondence with Descartes (AT V, 215, 223–24, 240–41, 272). For more detail on Descartes’s treatment of the problem, see Garber (1992, 148–54).

198 44. 45. 46. 47.

48.

49. 50. 51.

52.

53. 54.

55.

Notes Mori (1999, 163–64). Cf. OD III, 545–46. “rem quamlibet individuari posse per suammet entitatem” (OD IV, 483). As we have seen, Bayle holds that even acting miraculously God cannot violate the essences of things. Now since by its very nature extension must be infi nite, it is no diminution of God’s omnipotence to allow that he cannot annihilate one part of matter without simultaneously replacing it with another of the same size (OD III, 546). Thus, I cannot agree with Mori who takes the theological component of this difficulty at face value. Mori maintains that “according to Bayle, the Cartesian definition of matter limits God’s freedom: God cannot create a fi nite bit of matter, for that would contradict the essence of body, and for the same reason, he cannot annihilate one part of matter” (Mori 1999, 163–64). Mori neglects those later passages in which Bayle deals with the alleged theological difficulty in propria persona only to conclude that there is no sound theological objection to the Cartesian analysis of matter as res extensa and the resulting infi nite extended plenum. Bayle repeats this assertion at DHC “Leucippe” rem. G, 102; P 136. Bayle also discusses the objection, although without commenting on its cogency at OD IV, 306. Another striking example occurs in Letter 9 where Spinoza observes, “By substance I understand what is in itself and is conceived through itself. . . . I understand the same by attribute, except that it is called attribute in relation to the intellect, which attributes such and such a defi nite nature to substance” (Geb IV, 46; C 195). Curley (1969, 16–18). Bayle makes use of the same argument against Locke’s account of substance; cf. Chapter 3. As he does elsewhere in the article, Bayle here draws a parallel between Spinoza’s substance monism and the Catholic teaching concerning transubstantiation on the grounds that both doctrines contradict our most fundamental rational principles. Geneviève Brykman is sufficiently impressed by the numerous parallels Bayle draws between Spinoza’s doctrine and the attempt to rationalize the Christian mysteries to see the latter as the real target of the article (Brykman 1988, 269). To be sure, Bayle is a tireless opponent of attempts to reconcile Christian mysteries with principles of reason. Nevertheless, I believe Brykman underestimates the extent and depth of Bayle’s philosophical disagreement with Spinoza (DHC “Spinoza” rem. N, 261a; P 311). Cf. “The purest natural light shows us that substance is the principle of actions: Les plus pures lumieres naturelles nous montrent que le principe des actions, c’est la substance” (OD IV, 92a). Similarly, in the Systema Bayle attributes the activity of natural bodies to the matter of which they are composed (OD IV, 286a). For a brief comparison of Spinoza and the Aristotelians on this point, see Carriero (1995, 268–72). Spinoza contends the judgment ‘x is good’ to mean ‘x is desired by me’ at E IIIP9S. The defi nition of good as “what we certainly know to be useful to us” occurs at E IVD1. The article “Spinoza” is not the only occasion on which Bayle declines to take issue with a nonobjectivist account of ethics. After noting Archelaus’s claim that actions in themselves are morally indifferent and that moral good and evil purely the result of human convention, Bayle is content to observe that this claim is “scarcely orthodox” (DHC “Archelaus, Philosophe Grec” 290). For the sake of completeness it should be noted that in Remark P Bayle offers a fi nal objection aimed at E IP5, which states that “in nature there cannot be two or more substances of the same nature or attribute.” The objection is not

Notes

199

easy to assess, since Bayle says next to nothing about the argument Spinoza employs in defense of the theorem. Instead, Bayle maintains that the proposition involves an equivocation on the word same. To expose the fallacy, he contends, it suffices to draw the following distinction: “I admit that there cannot be several substances with the numerically same nature or attribute, but I deny that there cannot be several substances of the same type [specie] of nature or attribute” (DHC “Spinoza” rem. P, 263b). Thus, Bayle maintains that Spinoza fails to establish what he needs, namely, that there cannot be two substances of the same kind. Martial Guéroult, one of the few commentators to notice Bayle’s complaint, charges that the objection fails, because it rests on a misunderstanding of the divine attributes. Specifically, Bayle fails to appreciate that for Spinoza an attribute is “a physically real thing,” treating it instead as “an abstract universal capable of belonging to [rentrer dans la compréhension de] several subjects” (Guéroult 1968, 120; Guéroult’s emphasis). But, Guéroult continues, “if an attribute is that which by itself constitutes the nature of the substance, it is evident that it could not at the same time constitute the nature of another or belong to it, since these two natures would be but one” (ibid.). What Bayle fails to appreciate is that if an attribute is identical to its substance, it is a concrete individual (une chose physiquement rélle), and therefore is of the wrong logical type to constitute the essence of two distinct substances. However, it is difficult to make sense of Guéroult’s criticism since the point on which he most insists is precisely what Bayle allows. For we can agree with Guéroult that if an attribute is identical to the substance to which it belongs, it follows trivially that two substances cannot have the numerically same attribute. As Bayle himself concedes, “I admit that there cannot be several substances with the numerically same nature or attribute.” Bayle’s point is that this does not preclude the existence of two substances with attributes of the same kind. Nor is Guéroult on fi rmer ground when he accuses Bayle of treating Spinoza’s attributes as “abstract universals.” On the contrary, it is precisely because of his nominalism that Bayle is willing to concede that two distinct entities cannot share the numerically same attribute—a concession that a realist about universals would hardly be willing to make. Bayle clearly stakes out a nominalist view of qualities in the Systema: It must not be thought that the human nature that is in many beings is one; it is multiplied by the number of men in which it exists, since it is certain that the human nature that is in Peter is not the same in number as the human nature that is in Paul. Therefore, it is called one because it is conceived as one by us, on account of the resemblance that obtains between all human natures: Nec tantum credendum est, naturam humanam, quae est in multis, esse unam, multiplicatur enim pro numero hominum, in quibus existit, quandoquidem certum est naturam humanam, quae est in Petro, non esse eamdem numero cum ea quae est in Paulo. Dicitur ergo una, quia propter similitudinem quae est inter omnes humanas naturas, concipitur a nobis una. (OD IV, 219–20) Bayle’s point, then, is that two substances can have numerically different attributes that are of the same type, where being of the same type is understood in terms of resemblance.

NOTES TO CHAPTER 7 1. Speaking of Locke’s account of matter, Bayle observed that “if he had posited the plenum like Descartes, he would have found that nothing was easier than

200 Notes

2.

3. 4.

5.

6. 7. 8.

9.

a general understanding of solidity and gravity: s’il supposoit le Plein, comme Descartes, il ne trouveroit rien de plus aisé que de comprendre en gros et en général la Dureté et la Pesanteur” (Bayle to Ashley, November 23, 1699; OD IV, 786). Cf. “If in the seventeenth century physics has reappeared with a little luster . . . it is because we have excluded from the account of generation that class of entities of which the mind has no idea, and we have embraced the shape, motion and arrangement of the particles of matter, all of which we conceive clearly and distinctly: si dans le XVII siecle la Physique a reparu avec quelque lustre . . . c’est parce que l’on a exclus de la doctrine des générations ce nombre d’entitez, dont notre esprit n’a aucune idée, et que l’on s’est attaché à la figure, au mouvement, et à la situation des particules de la matiere, toutes choses que l’on conçoit clairement et distinctement” (DHC “Aristote” rem. M, 327). For Bayle’s rejection of substantial forms see DHC “Gorlaeus (David)” rem. A, 577; DHC “Heidanus” rem. E, 700; DHC “Sennert, Daniel” rem. C, 190. Bayle’s conception of Aristotelianism was largely based on the expositions to be found in seventeenth-century textbooks (cursus) rather than in the commentaries of previous centuries. This is not to say that Bayle had no fi rsthand knowledge of these earlier texts or that he naïvely equates the philosophy of Aristotle with that of the Aristotelians (cf. “everyone is aware of the infi nite number of forms and faculties that are distinct from substance, which the followers of Aristotle have introduced: chacun sait le nombre infi ni de formes et de facultez distinctes de la substance, que les sectateurs d’Aristote ont introduites” [DHC “Aristote” rem. M, 327b]). Rather, the point is that Bayle generally took his opponents to be the modern defenders of Aristotelian philosophy, and it is with their works that he was engaged. “qu’une substance distincte de la matiere est néanmoins materielle, et ne subsiste que dépendamment de la matiere: qu’elle est tirée de la puissance de la matiere sans y avoir existé auparavant: qu’elle n’est composée, ni de la matiere, ni d’aucune autre chose prééxistente, et que nonobstant cela elle n’est pas un être créé: enfi n que sans l’aide d’une connoissance qui la dirige dans ses opérations, elle produit la machine des animaux, et celle des plantes. Ils soutiennent tous ces dogmes monstrueux, après avoir été accablez des Objections d’un Pere Maignan, d’un Gassendi, etc. c’est ce qui étonne.” For a lucid discussion of the philosophical pressures that led late Scholastics such as Suarez to the conclusion that forms do not exist in matter prior to their generation, see Des Chene (1996, 139–41). For a discussion of the common complaint that the very notion of a substantial form amounted to a contradiction in terms, see Des Chene (1996, 76–78). “[T]here is nothing more awkward for those who endorse substantial forms than the objection that they could only be produced by a veritable creation: il n’y a rien de plus incommode pour ceux qui admettent les formes substantielles que l’objection que l’on fait qu’elles ne pourroient être produites que par une vértitable creation” (OD III, 789a). Cf. “It is certain that the production of a quality distinct from its subject is in no way different from a true creation. This has been demonstratively proved by the modern philosophers against the Aristotelians, who accept an infi nitude of substantial and accidental forms that are distinct from matter. For since they are not composed of any pre-existing subject, it follows that they are made out of nothing: Il est certain que la production d’une qualité distincte de son sujet, ne differe point d’une vraie création. C’est ce que les

Notes

10. 11.

12.

13. 14. 15.

16.

17.

18.

201

Philosophes modernes prouvent démonstrativement aux Aristotéliciens, qui admettent une infi nité de formes substantielles et accidentelles, distinctes de la matiere; car puisqu’elles ne sont point composées d’aucun sujet préexistent, il s’ensuit qu’elles sont faites de rien” (DHC “Anaxagoras” rem. G, vi, 214; cf. OD III, 942a–b). On one occasion Bayle recognizes that the moderns’ complaint that the production of substantial forms by matter constitutes an instance of creation ex nihilo can be retorted back against them. According to Bayle, the Cartesians acknowledge that free acts of will are produced by the human mind. Now, these volitions are either distinct from the mind, or they are not. If they are distinct, then they too are created ex nihilo. If they are not distinct, they can be brought about only by the same divine act of creation that sustains the mind in existence at each moment. But this implies that God is the cause of our allegedly free volitions (DHC “Sennert, Daniel” rem. D, 191–92). For discussion of a related argument, see Chapter 4. I examine the argument from necessary existence to supreme perfection later. “Il faut, pour bien raisonner sur la production du Monde, considérer Dieu comme l’Auteur de la matiere, et comme le prémier et le seul principe du mouvement. Si l’on ne peut pas s’élever jusques à l’idée d’une création proprement dite, on ne sauroit éviter tous les écueils, et il faut . . . débiter des choses dont notre Raison ne sauroit s’accommoder: car si la matiere existe par elle-même, nous ne comprenons pas bien que Dieu ait pu, ou qu’il ait dû, lui donner du mouvement.” Bayle also offers several moral objections against the hypothesis of two eternal principles, one of which arranges the parts of the other so as to form a world (DHC “Hierocles, philosophe platonicien” rem. A, 760; DHC “Epicure” rem. S, 373; and DHC “Ovide” rem. G, 557b). Cf. “communiter sentiunt Theologi et Philosophi Deum intuendo in semet ipsum cognoscere quaecunquae fieri possunt, etiam independenter à suis decretis; et vi sui decreti cognoscere solum res ut actu futures” (OD IV, 154b). For a discussion of the continuous creation account of occasionalism, see Chapter 4. In the article “Zabarella” Bayle argues that occasionalism enjoys a further advantage over Aristotelianism with respect to proofs of the existence of God, more specifically the Cosmological Argument. Because Scholastic philosophers hold that forms are endowed with intrinsic motive force, one could hold that the fi rst mover of the universe is a kind of animal soul that informs matter and will perish with the disintegration of the body (DHC “Zabarella” rem. G, 529b). Bayle’s meager mathematical education was such that what knowledge he had of Newton’s physics was largely based on secondhand accounts, and on this particular point Bayle seems to have been misinformed. In fact, Newton maintained that the laws of mechanics were insufficient to explain the formation of our solar system. As Newton tells Bentley, “ye motions wch ye Planets now have could not spring from any naturall cause alone but were imprest by an intelligent Agent” (December 10, 1692; Newton 1959-77, vol. 3, 234). “dès que vous supposez des corps déterminez à se mouvoir par des lignes droites, et à tendre ou vers le centre, ou vers la circonférence, toutes les fois qu’ils se trouvent obligez à se mouvoir circulairement à cause de la résistance des autres corps, vous établissez un principe qui formera nécessairement beaucoup de variétez dans la matiere, et s’il ne forme pas ce Systême-ci, il en formera un autre.” Descartes, of course, omitted the formation of plants and animals from the naturalistic cosmogony he proposed in Le Monde. However, as is clear from his correspondence, he saw no in principal reason why his account could not

202

19. 20.

21. 22.

23.

24. 25.

26.

27.

28. 29. 30.

31.

Notes be extended to living organisms. Descartes suggests that the impediments he had heretofore encountered were of a practical, rather than theoretical nature (Descartes to Mersenne, February 20, 1639; AT II, 523–26). “é contra verò ex atomorum motu et conjunctione licet fortuitis, mundus aliquis necessario nascitur: ex ipsis enim quoquo modo conjunctis coropora necessario constituuntur, quorum congeries mundus est” (Lamy 1669, 293). “il n’est pas fort nécessaire de discuter tout ceci: on peut lui accorder une partie des ses prétensions, et nier en même tems que notre Monde, où il y a tant de choses régulieres, et qui tendent à de certaines fi ns, puissent être l’effet du hazard.” Mori (1999, 136). “pour faire un Monde généralement parlant, celui-ci, ou d’autres, il n’est pas besoin que les atômes se rencontrent et se combinent d’une certaine maniere précise, unique, et déterminée; car de quelque maniere qu’ils s’accrochent, ils formeront nécessairement des assemblages de corps, et par conséquent un Monde” (DHC “Ovide” rem. G, 558b). “que le hazard puisse produire un assemblage de corps tel que notre Monde, où il y ait tant de choses qui persévérent si long-temps dans leur régularité, et tant de machines d’animaux mille fois plus industrieuses que celles de l’art humain, qui demandent nécessairement une direction intelligente.” Cf. OD I, 393b. “Personne ne fait difficulté d’avouer que jamais le mouvement ne produiroit une horloge, sans la direction d’une Intelligence particuliere. Par conséquent, ces Loix-là sont incapables de produire la moindre plante et le moindre fruit: car il y a plus d’artifice dans la construction d’un arbre et d’une grenade, que dans celle d’un navire.” Cf. DHC “Morin, Jean-Baptiste” rem. M, 430a. “Lois du mouvement, figure, repos, situation des particules, tant qu’il vous plaira. Cela est bon pendant que l’on n’a pas encore quarante ans: après quoi, vous voyez les plus excellens cartésiens vous avouer confidemment, qu’ils commencent à douter de la suffisance de ces principes.” “Je connois d’habiles gens qui se vantent de comprendre, que les loix générales de la communication du mouvement, quelque simples, quelque peu en nombre qu’elles soient, suffisent à faire croître un foetus, pourvu qu’on suppose qu’elles le trouvent organisé. Mais j’avoue ma foiblesse; je ne saurois bien comprendre cela. . . . Si ces deux choses sont également difficiles, pourquoi croirions-nous que les loix du mouvement, incapables d’organiser un point de matiere, auroient la vertu si elles le trouvent organisé, de le convertir en un animal mille fois plus gros . . . ?” Smith (2006, 14–15). For a discussion of Malebranche’s theory of preexistence, see Pyle (2006) as well as Pyle (2003, chap. 7). The argument from the interdependence of functional systems is discussed at Pyle (2006, 202–4). “Il faut ici une cause qui ait l’idée de son ouvrage, et qui connoisse les moiens de le construire: tout cela est nécessaire à ceux qui font une montre et un vaisseau; à plus forte raison se doit-il trouver dans ce qui fait l’organisation des êtres vivants.” “celui d’entre eux [the Cartesians] qui a le plus fait valoir les volontés simples et générales de Dieu, insinue très-clairement . . . qu’il y a un très-grand nombre de causes occasionelles que nous ne connaissons pas. Or ces causes occasionelles ne sont autre chose que les volontés et les désirs de certaines intelligences. Il en faut admettre partout où les lois de la communication du mouvement ne sont pas capables de produire certains effets.” Bayle mentions this theory as early as 1685 in the Nouvelles de la République des Lettres (OD I, 393b).

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32. Cf. Mori (1999, 129). 33. Lennon (1993b, 194). 34. DHC “Morin, Jean-Baptiste” rem. M, 430. For a comparison of preformation and preexistence theories, see Pyle (2006, 195). 35. The same criticism can be brought against Sennert’s theory of traduction, according to which immaterial souls are able to multiply to form others of the same species. For a discussion of Sennert’s account of traduction, see Arthur (2006, 150–54). Bayle criticizes this view at DHC “Sennert, Daniel” rem. C, 190. 36. In a well-known passage from the Sixth Replies Descartes claims that the fi nality ascribed by Aristotelians to falling bodies can be understood only in terms of “little minds” (AT VII, 442; cf. AT III, 648). Cf. Des Chene (1996, 393–94). 37. Bayle expressed his reservations concerning the adequacy of the laws of motion even for explaining relatively simple astronomical phenomena such as the motion of the planets. Bayle observes that although modern mechanism constitutes a decisive advance over Aristotelian and Scholastic physics, nonetheless there are certain doctrines that will have to be revisited and ultimately reinstated in physics (DHC “Aristote” main text, 329). In a footnote Bayle elaborates, observing that “such is the hypothesis of motor intelligences; for the doctrine of the vortices operating according to certain general laws and without particular guidance of each planet cannot satisfy the mind: telle est l’hypothese des Intelligences motrices; car la doctrine des tourbillons sous quelques Loix générales, et sans quelque direction particuliere à chaque Planete, ne peut contenter l’esprit” (DHC “Aristote” note p, 329). Once again this seemingly retrograde view receives some comfort from Bayle’s understanding of the present state of science. Bayle was aware of Newton’s claim to have disproved the Cartesian doctrine of vortices, a result that encourages the notion that the laws of motion alone cannot explain such basic astronomical phenomena as the motion of the planets. Meanwhile, Newton himself did not believe that the continued operations of the physical realm could be fully explained without divine intervention. As Bayle summarizes the situation: I believe that Mons. Newton, who teaches mathematics—a disciple, if I am not mistaken, of [Henry] More—took from him the idea . . . that the mechanical laws are in no way sufficient for explaining nature. We must recognize on more occasions than we do the particular direction of an angel [intelligence]. I am much mistaken if Fr. Malebranche is not of this opinion. Mons. Newton did not abstain from making sole use of mechanical principles in the work he gave to the public in which he claims that he has mathematically destroyed Descartes’s vortices: Je crois que M. Newton, qui professe les mathematiques, disciple, si je ne me trompe, de ce Morus, a puisé de là la pensée dont je vous ai parlé, que les lois mechaniques ne suffisoient point à expliquer la nature; il faut reconnoitre en plus d’occasions qu’on ne fait, la direction particuliere d’une intelligence. Je suis fort trompé si le P. Mallebranche n’est de cet avis. M. Newton n’a pas laissé d’emploier uniquement les principes mechaniques dans l’ouvrage qu’il a donné au public, et ou l’on pretend qu’il a ruiné mathematiquement les tourbillons de M. Descartes. (Bayle to Dubos, August 12, 1697; LI 936) Bayle’s characterization of Newton as holding that the laws of motion are inadequate “to explain nature” is ambiguous. As is well known, Newton maintained that the continued functioning of the universe required a periodic intervention by God to prevent the loss of energy that would otherwise lead to the gradual degradation and ultimate destruction of the system. The

204

38.

39. 40.

41. 42. 43. 44.

45.

46. 47.

Notes alleged need for divine interference in the continued functioning of the physical universe was one of the crucial issues in the Clarke–Leibniz debate. In any case, the conclusion Bayle draws from Newton’s rejection of the vortices is that “one can no longer be satisfied with only general laws of nature” and that a return to the Scholastic doctrine of intelligences motrices to account for the motion of the planets may be inevitable (DHC “Ricius” rem. C, 54b). It is perhaps worth mentioning that there are other apparent phenomena that Bayle believes cannot be accounted for by mechanistic laws devoid of fi nal causes, but that can be accounted for in a theologically satisfying way by occasionalism. Among these are chance, luck, and fortune. See, for example, DHC “Plotin” rem. G and DHC “Timoléon” rem. K. On some occasions, by what he doubtless takes to be an application of the principle of charity, Bayle attributes to the Scholastics the view that substantial forms and real qualities are intentional agents, much like the intelligences that he himself favors: “[The Aristotelians] posit in every body a substantial form endowed with a certain number of qualities by which it satisfies its desires. . . . Is this not to assign to plants an intelligence whose task it is to produce vegetation in a certain part of the universe?: [les Aristoteliens] mettent dans tous les corps une forme substantielle qui a pour son apanage un certain nombre de qualitez avec quoi elle accomplit ses desires . . . N’est-ce point admettre dans les plantes une Intelligence préposée à faire végéter une partie de l’Univers . . . ?” (DHC “Caïnites” rem. D, 7a–7b). Cf. “Les scolastiques, au lieu de génie ou d’intelligence, se servent des mots forme substantielle, vertu plastique, etc.; mais les mots n’y font rien” (DHC “Caïnites” rem. D, 7b). Mori (1999, 129). By contrast, both Labrousse and Lennon take these passages at face value. See Labrousse (1964, 247–56) and Lennon (1993b). “est-ce avoir le sens commun, que de prétendre qu’une bête ait les lumieres nécessaires pour convertir des goutes de sang en une machine, dont les organes en nombre presque infi nis en nombre ravissent en admiration par leur symmetrie, par leur varieté . . . ?” Cf. “Indeed, we more readily understand that God immediately produces plants and animals than we understand how the seed might have the power to produce organization: en effet on comprend mieux que Dieu produise immédiatement des plantes et des animaux, que l’on ne comprend que la semence ait la vertu de produire l’organisation” (DHC “Sennert, Daniel” rem. C, 190a). Cf. OD III, 996a. Passmore (1951, 21). Cudworth (1845, 241–42). Rosa (1994, 149). One of Cudworth’s motivations in positing plastic natures was to establish a sort of causal intermediary between God and the world that acts on inert matter in accordance with God’s commands; plastic natures provide a convenient explanation of the imperfections of creation. Such flaws can be attributed to the limited power of the plastic natures without impugning God’s omniscience or omnibenevolence. “Rien n’est plus embarassant pour les Athées que de se trouver réduits à donner la formation des animaux à une cause qui n’ait point l’idée de ce qu’elle fait, et qui exécute régulierement un plan sans savoir les loix qu’elle exécute. La forme plastique de Mr. Cudworth, et le principe vital de Mr. Grew, sont cependant dans le même cas, et ainsi ils ôtent à cette objection contre les athées toute sa force.” “ils attribuent à des causes qui ne connoissent rien, la production d’un ouvrage où la subordination et la régularité sont si visibles” (OD III, 881a). OD III, 181a.

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48. “A matter created from nothing is inconceivable, whatever efforts we make to form an idea of an act of will that might convert into a real substance that which was formerly nothing” (DHC “Spinoza” rem. O, 262b; P 314). 49. Bayle’s use of the term ‘Naturalism’ is meant to capture the fact that, like Spinoza, Strato identifies God and nature. 50. Cf. OD III, 934b. 51. Bayle glosses existence a se as the quality of being “unproduced” at OD IV, 517. 52. Mori (1999, 140). 53. “Je ne voi guere qu’une bonne route philosophique pour leur conversion. C’est de poser d’abord pour principe que rien d’imparfait ne peut exister de soi-même, et de conclure de là que la matière étant imparfaite n’existe point nécessairement; qu’elle a donc été produite de rien; qu’il y a donc une puissance infi nie, un esprit souverainement parfait qui l’a créée.” In fact, Bayle offers a canonical version of this argument in his lectures on metaphysics, where he argues that all philosophers recognize a being that exists per se, be it God or matter or nature. There is no middle term between existence ab alio and existence a se, and therefore whoever denies that matter was brought into existence by another must hold that it exists a se ipso. But, the argument continues, there is no reason why a being with enough perfection to exist from eternity would not have all perfections, including knowledge. Therefore, one must recognize the existence of an eternal, uncreated, thinking being, or God (OD IV, 517). Notice that, for Bayle, to exist necessarily or a se, is simply to exist independently of all cause. 54. OD III, 342b. Cf. OD IV, 152b; OD III, 346b. 55. “A being that is capable of giving itself existence would not deprive itself of that which completes and embellishes its existence: Quod ens capax sibi dandi existentiam, non sibi deneget ea quae complent et exornant existentiam” (OD IV, 152b). 56. “[I]f I had derived my existence from myself, which is a greater achievement, I should certainly not have denied myself the knowledge in question, which is something much easier to acquire, or indeed any of the attributes which I perceive to be contained in the idea of God” (AT VII, 48; CSM II, 33). 57. If I understand him correctly, Jean-Luc Solère takes the response that Bayle offers on behalf of Strato to be a simple retorsion. See Solère (2004, 143–45). 58. “il n’étoit point obligé de rendre aucune raison de ce qu’on lui demandoit; que si la Nature avoit été produite par une cause efficiente, on auroit pû le questionner, et qu’alors il auroit pû rechercher dans les idées de cette cause efficiente pourquoi la Nature étoit ceci et non pas cela; mais qu’un être qui existe de lui-même n’aïant été fait sur aucun plan, sur aucune idée, sur aucune cause exemplaire, on avoit tort de demander, pourquoi est il tel et non pas tel? La premiere cause est le non plus ultra de toutes nos spéculations, il n’y a ni raison, ni cause au de-là du premier être.” 59. Of course, it might be argued that the Christian philosophers are in a better position than Strato in that they can maintain that God’s nature is selfexplanatory. Unfortunately, Bayle nowhere discusses this claim, so any conjecture as to his response would be purely speculative. 60. “Si vero Deus existat necessitate ineluctabili, non vero optione quadam facta . . . , quidni dicamus naturam rerum, quae necessario statuit esse aliqua entia, sic se habuisse, ut statuerit necessario haec entia talis esse ordinis potius quam alterius: Ergo non fuisse penes liberum Dei arbitrium sibi dare hanc vel illam perfectionem, sed naturam rerum de his statuissse?”

206 Notes 61. “Similiter, posito quod materia esset à se, si quis quaereret, cur non esset simplex, indivisibilis, intelligens, cur esset limitateae virtutis? Responderi posset, talem esse ejus naturam” (OD IV, 153a). 62. Labrousse has claimed that Bayle’s reasoning amounts to a rejection of the ontological argument insofar as he calls into question “the connection between perfection and necessary existence, [or] being a se” (Labrousse 1964, 165). However, whatever Bayle’s attitude to the Ontological Argument may ultimately be, it is not clear that the objection he here raises commits him to rejecting it. Ontological arguments involve an attempt to argue from supreme perfection to necessary existence. What Bayle disputes is the converse entailment—that is, the inference from necessary or uncaused existence to supreme perfection. 63. “de ce que ne faire tort à personne seroit une bonne action non pas en soimême, mais par une disposition arbitaire de la volonté de Dieu, il s’ensuivroit que Dieu auroit pû donner à l’homme une loi directement oposée en tous ses points aux commandements du décalogue. Cela fait horreur.” Cf. Mori (1999, 148–49). 64. “la preuve qui se présente d’abord, et qui est au fond très-excellente, c’est celle qui est fondée sur la beauté, et sur la régularité des cieux, et sur l’industrie qui éclate dans les machines des animaux, où l’on voit manifestement que les pieces sont dirigées à certaines fi ns, et faites les unes pour les autres.” 65. “Il n’y avoit rien, ce me semble, de plus accablant pour un Philosophe Stratonicien que de lui dire qu’une cause destituée de connoissance n’a point pû faire ce monde, où il y a un si bel ordre, un méchanisme si exact, et des loix du mouvement si justes et si constantes.” 66. This argument appears to have influenced Hume, who offers a similar objection to the Argument from Design in Part IV of the Dialogues concerning Natural History. Cf. Mori (1999, 234–35). 67. “voilà des choses qui sans dépendre d’aucune cause doüée de direction, et de vie, ont chacune leurs qualitez propres, l’une est représentative de l’homme, l’autre du cheval, etc. . . . D’où pourroient venir leurs diférences, leurs relations, et leurs subordinations, s’il était vrai comme vous le prétendez, qu’aucune cause insensible n’est capable de rien faire où il y ait de proportion, et de la tendance vers une certain fi n?” 68. As Bayle puts the point, God “does not know things by virtue of a free choice, but by the necessity of his nature: [Dieu] ne connoît point les choses par un choix libre, mais par la nécessité de sa nature” (OD III, 335a). 69. “S’il y a des propositions d’une éternelle vérité qui sont telles de leur nature, et non point par l’institution de Dieu, si elles ne sont point véritables par un décret libre de sa volonté . . . Il resulte . . . de là que l’entendement divin dans l’infi nité de ses idées a rencontré toûjours et du premier coup leur conformité parfaite avec leurs objets, sans qu’aucune connoissance la dirigeât, car il y auroit contradiction qu’aucune cause exemplaire eût servi de plan aux actes de l’entendement de Dieu.” 70. Mori (1999, 229). 71. “les incompréhensibilitez qu’on peut objecter à Straton forment un argument insoluble, et une dificulté insurmontable. . . . c’est pour cela que j’ai embrassé l’hypothese Cartésienne, que Dieu est l’auteur unique et immédiat de tout mouvement local. Faire des loix du mouvement et les donner à exécuter à une Nature insensible, c’est toute la même chose, ce me semble, que de ne point faire ces loix, et que de vouloir que rien ne se meuve.” 72. “Ce seroit donc faire le déclamateur mal à propos que de prétendre qu’un homme qui ne veut point changer d’opinion pendant que ses adversaires sont sujets aux mêmes difficultez ou à d’aussi grandes difficultez que lui, est

Notes

73.

74. 75.

76.

207

un opiniâtre qui s’aveugle malicieusement. Son refus est très conforme aux régles de la raison” (OD III, 333b). On one occasion, Mori acknowledges that, in Bayle’s view, the arguments on behalf of mind-body dualism constitute genuine difficulties for Strato’s Naturalism (Mori 1999, 45). Nevertheless, Mori portrays the Naturalists as having defeated their Christian opponents on strictly philosophical grounds (Mori 1999, 229). “il n’y a point d’objections plus épouvantables que celles qu’un Stratonicien emprunteroient du mal moral et du mal physique qui regne parmi les hommes” (OD III, 343a). “La maxime de Mr. Le Clerc conduit non pas au Déisme ou à l’Athéisme qui sont des systêmes combatus par des objections évidemment insolubles, mais au Pyrrhonisme le plus outré, ou à l’Acataleptisme . . . c’est-à-dire l’incompréhensibilité de toutes choses” (OD IV, 15a; Bayle’s emphasis). “il auroit fallu connoître que le monde a été tiré du néant, et il se persuade que les seules lumieres de la nature ne leur sufisoient pas . . . [et que] sans les lumieres de l’Ecriture ils ne pouvoient pas facilement s’apercevoir de ce chemin-là” (OD III, 934b). Similarly, Bayle argues that “there is scarcely any notion more shocking to our reason than that of a beginning of existence that is preceded by an eternity of nothingness: Il n’y a guere de pensée qui révolte plus notre raison que celle d’un commencement d’existence qui ait été précédé d’une éternité de néant” (OD III, 934b).

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Index

A Accidents, real, 8, 12–15, 60, 118 Achilles Argument, 41–46, 47–49, 57–58, 59, 60–61, 152, 174– 175, 176 Adams, Robert, 192 Alteration: distinguished from annihilation, 130 Anaxagoras, 106, 141, 174, 191 Animals: automata, 59, 96, 106–108, 144, 177, 191; generation of, 139, 143–149, 150–151, 201–202, 203, 204 Anti-Emergence Argument, 34–36, 41, 46, 53, 175–176 Aquinas, Thomas, 13, 75 Archelaus, 198 Argument from Necessary Connection, 65–70 Aristotle, 162, 193, 200; and physics, 9, 137, 138 Arnauld, Antoine, 24, 163, 166, 197; correspondence with Leibniz, 97, 99, 189, 191–192; debate with Malebranche, 6, 9, 26, 30, 162, 167–168, 175; on pleasure, 10, 28–31, 169, 170 Arthur, Richard T. W., 203 Aseity: See Necessary Existence Atheism, 3, 4, 6, 50–51, 57, 62, 137, 151–160, 176–177, 178; See also Strato of Lampsacus Atomism, 1, 9, 21–22, 23, 41, 138, 143, 159-160, 162, 174, 176–177 Augustine, 87 Ayers, Michael, 61, 178

B Barber, William H., 188

Basnage de Beauval, Henri, 95, 96, 104, 108, 188, 189, 190 Basnage de Beauval, Jacques, 162 Bennett, Jonathan, 116, 124–125, 195, 196 Bernard, Jacques, 7, 25 Bernier, François, 6, 18 Bianchi, Lorenzo, 188 Boyle, Robert, 6, 13, 72–73 Bruno, Giordano, 197 Brykman, Geneviève, 114, 198

C Calvin, John, 18, 88, 164, 186 Carriero, John, 195, 196, 197, 198 Catelan, Abbé, 95 Causation: causal closure, 108, 192; causal overdetermination, 75, 79–80, 85–86; occasionalism, 7, 20, 27, 29, 31, 35–36, 63–94, 99–106, 108–109, 113, 141–142, 146–147, 151, 157, 158, 160, 204; preestablished harmony, 7, 64, 96–113, 191, 192; simultaneity of cause and effect, 83–84 ; See also Leibniz (preestablished harmony) Chappell, Vere, 187, 188 Chouet, Jean-Robert, 9 Cicero, 1, 37–38 Clarke, Samuel, 204 Clatterbaugh, Kenneth, 76, 182 Concourse, divine, 14, 75 Continuous creation, 4–5, 20, 56–57, 73–88, 90, 104–105, 142, 181, 184–185, 201; See also occasionalism Continuum: composition of, 18, 20–22 Cordemoy, Géraud de, 65

220

Index

Coste, Pierre, 16, 20, 58, 169, 177 Cosmogony, 139–144 Creation Ex Nihilo, 140–142, 148, 151, 153, 160; See also matter (necessary existence of) Cudworth, Ralph, 150, 204 Cummins, Phillip D., xiv, 163, 165 Curley, Edwin, 114, 116, 134, 193, 195, 197, 198

D Daniel, Gabriel, 166, 191 Della Rocca, Michael, 187, 188 Des Chene, Dennis, 13, 163, 164, 191, 200, 203 Descartes, 8, 11–12, 13, 17, 20, 23, 24, 48, 65, 84, 95, 107, 116, 125, 127, 153, 199, 203; cosmogony of, 139–140, 142, 201–202; on continuous creation, 81, 185; on distinctness, 11–12, 37–38; on mechanism, 137–138; on mind-body interaction, 108; on motion, 39, 172; on occasionalism, 65, 182; on substance, 118, 195; See also Eternal Truths (voluntarist theory of) Design Argument, 140, 145–146, 150–151, 152–153, 156–158 Dicaearchus, 36, 37–38, 41, 171–172, 175 Distinctness, Conceptual, 87; Modal, 85–86; Real, 85–88, 106, 117, 121, 127, 130–133 Divisibility, 126–129, 130–133, 196; and separability, 127–129; and the vacuum, 126–128, 196; strong and weak distinguished, 126 Downing, Lisa, 179–180 Dualism: mind-body, 7, 9, 11, 22–26, 33–49, 50, 159, 207

E Epicurus, 22, 162 Eternal truths: voluntarist theory of, 154, 155–156, 185 Évidence, 21–22, 25–26 Evil: as privation, 93; Problem of, 3, 4, 6, 7, 64, 73, 81, 91, 93–94, 95–96, 151, 159, 160, 187, 204 Extension: see matter (res extensa)

F Fideism, 3, 7, 18

Finality, 14, 139, 146–148, 157, 203–204 Fontenelle, 6, 10, 65–70, 180 Form: eduction of, 60, 86, 139, 148, 200, 201; substantial, 18, 86, 138–139, 147–150, 157, 164, 200, 204 Foucher, Simon, 96, 99, 188 Freedom: human, 4–5, 73, 88–93, 151, 201; immediate awareness of, 88–90; of indifference, 4–5, 18–19, 64, 81, 88, 90–91, 151, 181, 186; of spontaneity, 88, 90

G Galen, 170 Garber, Daniel, 163, 172, 179, 182, 197 Gassendi, Pierre, 9, 25, 138–139 God: cause of physical universe, 140– 144; nature of, 59, 152–160; goodness of, 134–135; immateriality of, 59; immutability of, 125–133, 197; knowledge of external world, 141–142; limited nature of, 153–154; omnipotence of, 13, 35–36, 53–56, 154, 155–156, 198 Grew, Nehemiah, 150

H Hobbes, Thomas, 34 Holden, Thomas, 191, 194, 195 Huenemann, Charlie, 196 Hume, David, 14, 163, 177, 206 Huygens, Christian, 6, 19, 165

I Irreducibility Principle, 35, 36

J Jaquelot, Isaac, 7, 77, 82–83, 88–89, 91 Jolley, Nicholas, 102–103, 111, 169, 183, 190, 192 Jurieu, Pierre, 7, 152, 167

K Kant, Immanuel, 41 Kremer, Elmar J., 187

L La Forge, Louis de, 65, 73, 179, 182 La Ville, Louis de. See Le Valois, Louis Labrousse, Elisabeth, 3, 5, 7, 33, 36, 114, 161, 162, 204, 206

Index Lamy, François, 97, 99 Lamy, Guillaume, 143–144, 202 Laws of nature, 29, 68–70, 72–73, 108, 176–177; voluntarist conception of, 55–57, 101–103, 179–180, 190 Le Clerc, Jean, 7, 97, 150, 160, 177 Le Grand, Antoine, 73, 182 Le Valois, Louis, 7, 10, 18 Leibniz, G. W., 4, 8, 20, 94, 148, 166, 187, 188, 189, 204; against occasionalism, 99–106, 110– 111, 189, 192–193; critique of superaddition, 55; on continuous creation, 84–85, 186, 190; on substance, 97–99, 103–106, 189; petites perceptions, 112–113; preestablished harmony, 7, 64, 94, 95–113, 189; theory of monads, 174 Leucippus, 36, 41, 160 Lennon, Thomas, x, xiv, 2–3, 4, 5, 60–61, 70, 101, 107, 147, 169, 177–178, 204 Locke, John, 43; argument for existence of God, 52, 54, 62, 140; bare substratum account of substance, 51, 177–178, 198; critique of res extensa, 16, 199– 200; motion and the vacuum, 19–20; on real essence, 51, 57, 58–61; on superaddition, 23, 34, 35–36, 50–62 Luther, Martin, 88

M Maignan, Emmanuel, 113, 139, 164 Malebranche, Nicolas, 3, 6, 8, 9–11, 18, 20, 24, 30, 43, 45, 63, 65, 95, 137, 141–142, 147, 162, 172, 175, 179, 186, 203; and occasionalism, 63–64, 67, 70, 71–72, 99, 101, 102–103, 110, 151, 153, 158, 165, 179, 180–181, 189; on animal generation, 144–146, 148–149, 202; on continuous creation, 4–5, 73–81, 83, 86, 182–183, 184, 187; on essence of soul, 24, 48–49, 175–176; on freedom, 89–93, 187, 188; on ideas and sensations, 28–30, 169, 170; on miracles, 146–147; on natural judgments, 29, 169; on pleasure,

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28; on relations, 86–88; rejection of action at a distance, 179–180; theodicy, 63–64, 178, 179; vision in God, 26–28, 167–169; See also causation (occasionalism) Manicheism, 73 Materialism, 41; Strong and Weak Materialism, 33–34, 46, 47, 159 Matter: annihilation of, 131–133; compositeness of, 44, 58, 105–106, 117–121, 121–125, 172–173, 174, 191; inertness of, 140, 159, 160; infinite extent of, 120, 195; impenetrability of, 65–70; infinite divisibility of, 21–22, 43, 45; necessary existence of, 140–141, 153–156, 20; res extensa, 7, 8, 9, 10, 12, 15–22, 39, 40, 43–44, 50–51, 56, 62, 67–68, 73, 80, 104, 117–121, 125, 127, 131, 159–160, 190, 193, 199 McKenna, Antony, 169 Mechanism, 6, 80–81, 108, 123–125, 137–160, 184, 195, 203; and formation of the universe, 139–144; See also Animals (generation of) Mercer, Christia, 189 Mijuskovic, Ben Lazare, 172 Miracles, 55–56, 100–103, 191–192 Montaigne, Michel de, 1 Moral Value: Realism vs. Relativism, 135, 198; Rejection of divine voluntarism, 156 More, Henry, 197, 203 Mori, Gianluca 3–4, 5, 6, 7, 18–19, 25, 33, 35, 36, 49, 114, 131–132, 143–144, 148–149, 153, 158, 162, 164, 167, 175, 179, 181, 186, 188, 193, 198, 203, 206, 207 Morin, Jean-Baptiste, 149 Motion, 44, 57, 69, 125; in a vacuum, 19–20, 62; nature of, 38–39, 76, 141, 172, 183

N Nadler, Steven, 76, 77, 80, 81, 168, 169, 170, 179, 181, 182, 183, 184 Necessary Existence, 152–156, 205; See also Matter (necessary existence of)

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Index

Neto, José Maia, 2 Newton, Isaac, 180, 201; critique of Cartesian vortices, 142, 203– 204; on the vacuum, 18–20, 23, 62, 178 Non-emergence Principle, 35

Rex, Walter, x Rohault, Jacques, 164, 172 Rosa, Susan, 150, 204

S

Quinn, Philip, 182 Quod Nescis Argument, 65, 71–73, 150–151, 156–157, 158, 159, 160, 181

Sacrelaire, Henri, 7 Schacter, Jean-Pierre, 173, 174–175 Schmaltz, Tad, 187, 195, 197 Scholasticism, 8, 11, 13–14, 16–17, 27 Sennert, Daniel, 203 Sensation, non-representational, 29–31, 46, 174 Simonides, 22 Skepticism, 7, 32, 159–160; Academic, 2–3; Cartesian, 5; Pyrrhonian, 1–2, 3, 4, 19 Sleigh, Robert C. Jr., 182, 183, 187, 188, 189, 192 Smith, Justin E. H., 202 Solère, Jean-Luc, 169, 205 Soul: as res cogitans, 11, 12, 23–25, 48–49, 81; immateriality of, 22–26, 50–62, 175; immortality of, 33, 37, 47–49, 50, 89, 175; no idea of, 25, 48, 89; unity of, 41–47, 48, 58, 173–174; See also dualism (mind-body) Space: nature of, 17, 19, 193 Spinoza, 8, 12, 152, 177–178, 190, 193, 205; on determinism, 190; on extension, 117–121; on freedom, 88, 89, 115, 186, 193; substance monism, 7, 103–104, 105, 114–136, 189, 193, 194, 195, 196, 197, 198, 199 Stillingfleet, Edward, 23, 50, 53–54, 177 Strato of Lampsacus, 151–160, 205, 207 Sturm, Johann Christopher, 97, 190 Suarez, Francisco, 139, 191, 200 Substance: definition of, 118, 121, 194; distinguished from subject of predicates, 121–122, 123–124, 195; ontology of, 4, 8, 9, 10, 11–15, 40, 43–44, 74, 82, 85–86, 86–88, 105, 118, 177–178; See also Leibniz, G. W. (on substance)

R

T

Real Presence, 8, 12–14, 16–17, 18, 172, 198 Relations, 86–88

Time, atomistic account of, 185, Tournemine, René-Joseph de, 97 Transubstantiation: See Real Presence

O Obediential Power, 54–56, 57-58, 60 Occasionalism. See causation (occasionalism) Occult qualities, 18 Oldenburg, Henry, 195, 196 Ontological Argument, 206 O’Neill, Eileen, 189 Ovid, 140

P Paganini, Gianni, 177 Panpsychism, 41 Passmore, J. A, 204 Pessin, Andrew, 182–183, 184 Plastic Natures, 97, 149–151, 157 Plato, 157–158 Pleasure, 28–31; intrinsically nonrepresentative, 29 Plotinus, 42 Poiret, Pierre, 7, 15, 23–24, 26, 33, 35–36, 38, 47, 63, 93, 155, 166, 168, 171, 176, 187 Popkin, Richard 1–2 Pre-established Harmony. See Leibniz, G. W. (preestablished harmony) Principle of Complete Modal Determinacy, 76–77 Principle of Essential Inherence, 44–45 Principle of Modal Continuity, 38–41, 175 Proprium quarto modo, 59–60 Pyle, Andrew, 67–68, 70, 76–77, 80, 179, 182, 183, 202, 203 Rutherford, Donald, 101–102, 189, 190, 192

Q

Index Tronchin, Louis, 9, 17–18

W

V

Whitmore, P. J. S., 177 Wilson, Margaret, 57, 177 Woolhouse, Roger, 189

Vacuum, 8, 18–20, 68, 180; See also divisibility (and the vacuum) Van Cleve, James, 122–124 Villemandy, Pierre de, 91 Vision in God: See Malebranche (vision in God)

Z Zeno of Elea, 18; on motion, 7, 20–22 Zoroaster, 73, 181

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