Monadology
by Leibniz
(translated by Robert Latta; revised by Donald Rutherford)
From: http://philosophy2.ucsd.edu/~rutherford/Leibniz/monad.htm
1. The monad, of which we shall speak here is nothing but a simple
substance that enters into composites; simple, that is, without
parts. (sec. 10)
2. And there must be simple substances, since there are composites;
for a composite is nothing but a collection, or aggregate, of simples.
3. But where there are no parts, there is neither extension nor
figure, nor any possible division. These monads are the true atoms
of nature and, in a word, the elements of things.
4. No dissolution of these elements need be feared, and there is
no conceivable way in which a simple substance can perish naturally.
(sec. 89)
5. For the same reason there is no conceivable way in which a simple
substance can begin naturally, since it cannot be formed through
composition.
6. Thus it may be said that monads can only begin or end all at
once; that is, they can only begin by creation and end by annihilation,
whereas that which is composite begins or ends through its parts.
7. Further, there is no way of explaining how a monad can be altered
or changed internally by any other created thing; for it is impossible
to change the place of anything in it or to conceive in it any internal
motion that could be excited, directed, increased or diminished
therein, although all this is possible in the case of composites,
in which there are changes among the parts. Monads have no windows,
through which anything could enter or leave. Accidents cannot be
separated from substances or go about outside of them, as the sensible
species of the Scholastics used to do. Thus neither substance nor
accident can enter a monad from without.
8. Yet monads must have some qualities, otherwise they would not
even be beings. And if simple substances did not differ in their
qualities, there would be no means of perceiving any change in things;
for what is in the composite can come only from its simple ingredients;
and monads, if they had no qualities, would be indistinguishable
from one another, since they do not differ in quantity. Consequently,
assuming a plenum, in motion each place would always receive exactly
the equivalent of what it already had, and one state of things would
be indistinguishable from another.
9. Indeed, each monad must be different from every other; for in
nature there are never two beings which are perfectly alike and
in which it is not possible to find an internal difference or one
founded on an intrinsic denomination.
10. I assume also as a given that every created being, and consequently
the created monad as well, is subject to change, and further that
this change is continual in each.
11. It follows from what has just been said, that the natural changes
of monads come from an internal principle, since an external cause
cannot influence it internally. (secs. 396, 400)
12. But, besides the principle of change, there must be a diversity
in that which changes, which produces, so to speak, the specification
and variety of simple substances.
13. This diversity must involve a multitude in the unity or in
the simple. For all natural change occurs gradually, something changes
and something remains; consequently, there must be a plurality of
affections and relations in a simple substance, although it has
no parts.
14. The passing state that involves and represents a multitude
in the unity, or in the simple substance, is nothing but what is
called perception, which is to be distinguished from apperception
or consciousness, as will become clear later. The Cartesians have
seriously erred in this, for they discount entirely perceptions
of which we are not aware. This has led them to believe also that
minds alone are monads, and that there are no souls of beasts or
other entelechies. Thus, like common people, they have failed to
distinguish a prolonged unconsciousness and actual death, which
has made them fall back into the Scholastic prejudice of entirely
separate souls, and has even confirmed unbalanced minds in the opinion
that souls are mortal.
15. The action of the internal principle that produces the change
or passage from one perception to another may be called appetition.
It is true that appetite cannot always fully reach the entire perception
at which it aims, but it always obtains some of it and reaches new
perceptions.
16. We ourselves experience a multitude in a simple substance,
when we find that the least thought of which we are aware involves
a variety in its object. Thus all those who admit that the soul
is a simple substance should admit this multitude in the monad;
and M. Bayle ought not to find any difficulty in it, as he has done
in his Dictionary, article 'Rorarius.'
17. Moreover, it must be confessed that perception and that which
depends on it are inexplicable in mechanical terms, that is, in
terms of figures and motions. And supposing there were a machine,
so constructed as to think, feel, and have perception, one could
imagine it increased in size, while keeping the same proportions,
so that one could go into it as into a mill. In that case, we should,
on examining its interior, find only parts that work upon one another,
and never anything by which to explain a perception. Thus, perception
must be sought in a simple substance, and not in a composite or
machine. Further, nothing but this (namely, perceptions and their
changes) can be found in a simple substance. It is in this alone
also that all the internal actions of simple substances can consist.
18. All simple substances, or created monads, can be called entelechies,
for they have in them a certain perfection (echousi to enteles);
they have a self-sufficiency (autarkeia) which makes them the sources
of their internal actions and, so to speak, incorporeal automata.
(sec. 87)
19. If we wish to give the name "soul" to everything
that has perceptions and appetites in the general sense I have just
explained, then all simple substances or created monads could be
called souls; but as sensation is something more than simple perception,
I believe the general name "monad" or "entelechy"
suffices for simple substances that have perception only, and that
the name "soul" should be given only to those in which
perception is more distinct and accompanied by memory.
20. For we experience in ourselves a state in which we remember
nothing and have no distinguishable perceptions, as when we fall
into a faint or when we are overcome with a profound dreamless sleep.
In this state the soul does not differ perceptibly from a simple
monad; but as this state is not lasting, and the soul recovers from
it, the soul is something more than a simple monad. (sec. 64)
21. And it does not follow from this that the simple substance
is without any perception. That, indeed, cannot be, for the reasons
already given; for it cannot perish, and it also cannot continue
to exist without some affection, which is nothing but its perception.
But when there is a great multitude of little perceptions in which
nothing is distinguished, we are dazed, just as when we turn continuously
round in the same direction several times in a row, and there follows
from this a giddiness that can make us faint and prevents us from
distinguishing anything. Death may for a time put animals into this
state.
22. And as every present state of a simple substance is naturally
a consequence of its preceding state, so its present is pregnant
with its future. (sec. 350)
23. Therefore, since on waking from a stupor, we are aware of our
perceptions, we must have had perceptions immediately beforehand,
although we were not aware of them; for one perception can only
come naturally from another perception, as one motion can only come
naturally from another motion. (secs. 401-403)
24. From this we see that if we had nothing distinguished in our
perceptions—nothing, so to speak, heightened and of a more
eminent character, we would always be in a stupor. And this is the
state of bare monads.
25. Furthermore, we see that nature has given heightened perceptions
to animals, by the care she has taken to provide them with organs,
which collect numerous rays of light or numerous undulations of
the air, in order to make them have a greater effect through their
union. Something similar to this takes place in smell, in taste
and in touch, and perhaps in a number of other senses, which are
unknown to us. And I will explain presently how that which takes
place in the soul represents what happens in the organs.
26. Memory provides souls with a kind of succession, which imitates
reason, but which must be distinguished from it. Thus we see that
when animals have a perception of something which strikes them and
of which they have formerly had a similar perception, they are led
by the representation in their memory to expect what was combined
with the thing in this previous perception, and they come to have
feelings similar to those they had on the previous occasion. For
instance, when a stick is shown to dogs, they remember the pain
it has caused them, and howl and run away. (Prelim. Disc., sec.
65)
27. And the strength of the imagination that impresses and moves
them comes either from the magnitude or multitude of the preceding
perceptions. For often a strong impression produces all at once
the same effect as a long-formed habit, or as many often-repeated
ordinary perceptions.
28. Men act like beasts insofar as the succession of their perceptions
is due to the principle of memory alone; they resemble empirical
physicians, who have a simple practice without theory. Indeed, in
three-quarters of our actions we are nothing but empirics. For instance,
when we expect that the sun will rise tomorrow, we act like an empiric,
for it has always happened this way in the past. It is only the
astronomer who judges this on the basis of reason. (Prelim. Disc.,
sec. 65)
29. But it is the knowledge of necessary and eternal truths that
distinguishes us from mere animals and gives us reason and the sciences,
raising us to the knowledge of ourselves and of God. And it is this
in us that is called the rational soul or mind.
30. It is also through the knowledge of necessary truths and their
abstractions that we rise to reflective acts, which make us think
of what is called I, and consider that this or that is within us:
and thus, thinking of ourselves, we think of being, of substance,
of the simple and the composite, of the immaterial, and of God himself,
conceiving that what is limited in us is in God without limits.
And these reflective acts furnish the chief objects of our reasonings.
(Pref. [GP VI 27])
31. Our reasonings are founded on two great principles: that of
contradiction, in virtue of which we judge that which involves a
contradiction false, and that which is opposed or contradictory
to the false true. (secs. 44, 169)
32. And that of sufficient reason, in virtue of which we hold that
there can be no real or existing fact, no true statement, unless
there is a sufficient reason, why it should be so and not otherwise,
although these reasons usually cannot be known by us. (secs. 44,
196)
33. There are two kinds of truths, those of reason and those of
fact. Truths of reason are necessary and their opposite is impossible;
truths of fact are contingent and their opposite is possible. When
a truth is necessary, its reason can be found by analysis, resolving
it into simpler ideas and truths, until we come to those that are
primitive. (secs. 170, 174, 189, 280-282,367; Summary, Obj. 3)
34. It is in this way that the speculative theorems and practical
canons of the mathematicians are reduced by analysis to definitions,
axioms and postulates.
35. Finally, there are simple ideas, which cannot be defined; there
are also axioms and postulates, or in a word, primitive principles,
which cannot be proved and indeed have no need of proof; these are
identical propositions, whose opposite involves an explicit contradiction.
(secs. 36, 37, 44, 45, 49, 52, 121-122, 337, 340-344)
36. But there must also be a sufficient reason in contingent truths
or truths of fact, that is, in the succession of things dispersed
throughout the universe of created beings; here analysis into particular
reasons could proceed into unending detail, because of the immense
variety of things in nature and the infinite division of bodies.
There is an infinity of present and past shapes and motions that
enter into the efficient cause of my present writing, and there
is an infinity of past and present minute tendencies and dispositions
of my soul that enter into its final cause.
37. And as all this detail involves other prior or more detailed
contingent things, each of which again needs a similar analysis
to give its reason, we are no further ahead: and the sufficient
or final reason must be outside of the succession or series of this
diversity of contingent things, however infinite it may be.
38. Thus the final reason of things must be in a necessary substance,
in which the diversity of changes exists only eminently, as in its
source; and this substance we call God. (sec. 7)
39. Now as this substance is a sufficient reason for all this diversity,
which also is everywhere connected, there is only one God, and this
God is sufficient.
40. We may also conclude that this supreme substance, which is
unique, universal and necessary, nothing outside of it being independent
of it, and which is a mere consequence of possible being, must be
incapable of limits and must contain as much reality as possible.
41. From this it follows that God is absolutely perfect; for perfection
is nothing but the magnitude of positive reality, in the strict
sense, leaving aside the limits or bounds in things that have them.
And where there are no bounds, that is, in God, perfection is absolutely
infinite. (sec. 22; Pref. [GP V 27])
42. It follows also that created beings derive their perfections
from the influence of God, but that their imperfections come from
their own nature, which is incapable of being without limits. For
it is in this that they differ from God. (secs. 20, 27-30, 153,
167, 377 sqq.; secs 30, 380; Summary, Obj. 5)
43. It is further true that in God there is not only the source
of existences but also that of essences, insofar as they are real,
that is, the source of what is real in the possible. For the understanding
of God is the region of eternal truths or of the ideas on which
they depend, and without him there would be nothing real in possibilities,
and not only would there be nothing existing but nothing would even
be possible. (sec. 20)
44. For if there is a reality in essences or possibilities, or
rather in eternal truths, this reality must be founded in something
existing and actual, and consequently in the existence of the necessary
being, in which essence involves existence, or in which to be possible
is to be actual. (secs. 184-189, 335)
45. Thus God alone (or the necessary being) has this privilege,
that he must exist, if he is possible. And as nothing can interfere
with the possibility of that which involves no limits, no negation
and consequently no contradiction, this alone suffices to make known
the existence of God a priori. We have thus proved God's existence
through the reality of eternal truths. But we have just proved it
also a posteriori, since there exist contingent beings, which can
have their final or sufficient reason only in the necessary being,
which has the reason for its existence in itself.
46. We must not, however, imagine, as some do, that eternal truths,
being dependent on God, are arbitrary and depend on his will, as
Descartes and later M. Poiret, appear to have held. That is true
only of contingent truths, of which the principle is fitness or
the choice of the best, whereas necessary truths depend solely on
his understanding and are its internal object. (secs. 180-184, 185,
335, 351, 380)
47. Thus God alone is the primitive unity or original simple substance,
of which all created or derivative monads are products; and they
are born, so to speak, through continual fulgurations of the divinity
from moment to moment, limited by the receptivity of the created
thing, of whose essence it is to be limited. (secs. 382-391, 398,
395)
48. In God there is power, which is the source of all, then knowledge,
which contains the diversity of ideas, and finally will, which brings
about changes or products in accordance with the principle of the
best. (secs. 7, 149, 150) And these characteristics correspond to
what in created monads makes up the subject or ground, the faculty
of perception, and the faculty of appetition. But in God these attributes
are absolutely infinite or perfect, and in created monads or entelechies
(or perfectihabies, as Hermolaus Barbarus translated the word) there
are only imitations of these attributes, according to the degree
of perfection. (sec. 87)
49. A created thing is said to act outwardly insofar as it has
perfection, and to be acted upon by another, insofar as it is imperfect.
Thus action is attributed to the monad, insofar as it has distinct
perceptions, and passion insofar as its perceptions are confused.
(secs. 32, 66, 386)
50. And one created thing is more perfect than another in that
there is found within it that which serves to explain a priori what
happens in the other, and it is for this reason that the former
is said to act upon the latter.
51. But in simple substances the influence of one monad upon another
is only ideal, and it can have its effect only through the mediation
of God, insofar as in the ideas of God any monad reasonably claims
that God, in regulating the others from the beginning of things,
should have regard for it. For since one created monad cannot have
any physical influence upon the interior of another, it is only
by this means that the one can be dependent upon the other. (secs.
9, 54, 65, 66, 201; Summary, Obj. 3)
52. Accordingly, among created things, actions and passions are
mutual. For God, comparing two simple substances, finds in each
reasons that oblige him to accommodate the other to it, and consequently
what is active in certain respects is passive from another point
of view; active insofar as what is known distinctly in it serves
to explain what happens in another, and passive insofar as the reason
for what takes place in it is found in what is distinctly known
in another. (sec. 66)
53. Now, as there is an infinity of possible universes in the Ideas
of God, and as only one of them can exist, there must be a sufficient
reason for God's choice, which determines him toward one rather
than another. (secs. 8, 10, 44, 173, 196 sqq., 225, 414-416)
54. And this reason can be found only in the fitness, or the degrees
of perfection, that these worlds contain, since each possible thing
has the right to claim existence in proportion to the perfection
it involves. (secs. 74, 167, 350, 201, 130, 352, 345 sqq., 354)
55. And this is the cause of the existence of the best, which God
knows through his wisdom, chooses through his goodness, and produces
through his power. (secs. 8, 78, 80, 84, 119, 204, 206, 208; Summary,
Objs. 1, 8)
56. Now this connection or accommodation of all created things
to each and of each to all the others, means that each simple substance
has relations that express all the others, and, consequently, that
it is a perpetual living mirror of the universe. (sec. 130, 360.)
57. And just as the same town looked at from different sides appears
completely different, and as if multiplied in perspective, so through
the infinite multitude of simple substances, it is as if there were
so many different universes, which nevertheless are only perspectives
on a single universe, according to the different point of view of
each monad. (sec. 147)
58. And by this means there is obtained as much variety as possible,
along with the greatest possible order; that is, it is the means
of obtaining as much perfection as possible. (secs. 120, 124, 241
sqq., 214, 243, 275)
59. Besides, only this hypothesis (which I venture to call demonstrated)
suitably exalts the greatness of God; and this Monsieur Bayle recognized
when, in his Dictionary (article 'Rorarius'), he raised objections
to it, in which he was inclined even to think that I was attributing
too much to God—more than it is possible to attribute. But
he was unable to explain why this universal harmony, according to
which every substance exactly expresses every other through the
relations it has with them, was impossible.
60. Further, one sees in what I have just said the a priori reasons
why things could not be otherwise than they are. For God in regulating
the whole has had regard for each part, and in particular for each
monad, whose nature being representative, nothing can limit it to
representing only a part of things, although it is true that this
representation is only confused as regards the detail of the entire
universe, and can be distinct only as regards a small part of things,
namely, those that are either nearest or greatest in relation to
each of the monads; otherwise each monad would be a divinity. It
is not in their object, but in the mode of their knowledge of the
object, that monads are limited. They all move confusedly toward
the infinite, the whole; but they are limited and distinguished
through the degrees of their distinct perceptions.
61. And composites agree in this respect with simple substances.
For all is a plenum (and thus all matter is connected) and in the
plenum every motion has some effect upon distant bodies in proportion
to their distance, so that each body not only is affected by those
which are in contact with it and in some way feels the effect of
everything that happens to them, but also is indirectly affected
by bodies touching those with which it is in immediate contact.
It follows that this communication extends to any distance, however
great. And consequently every body feels the effect of all that
takes place in the universe, so that one who sees all could read
in each what is happening everywhere, and even what has happened
or will happen, observing in the present that which is far off in
time as well as in place: sympnoia panta, as Hippocrates said. But
a soul can read in itself only what is represented there distinctly;
it cannot unpack all at once all its implications, for they extend
to infinity.
62. Thus, although each created monad represents the whole universe,
it represents more distinctly the body which is specially assigned
to it, and of which it is the entelechy; and as this body expresses
the whole universe through the connection of all matter in the plenum,
the soul also represents the whole universe by representing this
body, which belongs to it in a particular way. (sec. 400)
63. The body belonging to a monad, which is its entelechy or soul,
constitutes with the entelechy what can be called a living thing,
and with the soul what is called an animal. Now this body of a living
thing, or animal, is always organic; for as every monad is, in its
own way, a mirror of the universe, and as the universe is regulated
according to a perfect order, there must also be an order in that
which represents it, i.e., in the perceptions of the soul, and consequently
in the body, according to which the universe is represented in the
soul. (sec. 403)
64. Thus the organic body of each living thing is a kind of divine
machine or natural automaton, which infinitely surpasses all artificial
automata. For a machine made by human art is not a machine in each
of its parts. For instance, the tooth of a brass wheel has parts
or fragments which for us are no longer artificial things, and which
have nothing to indicate the machine in relation to which the wheel
was intended to be used. But machines of nature, that is, living
bodies, are still machines in their smallest parts, to infinity.
It is this which constitutes the difference between nature and art,
that is, between divine art and ours. (secs. 134, 146, 194, 403)
65. And the Author of nature has been able to practice this divine
and infinitely marvelous art, because each portion of matter is
not only infinitely divisible, as the ancients recognized, but also
actually subdivided without end, each part into parts, of which
each has some motion of its own; otherwise it would be impossible
for each portion of matter to express the whole universe. (Prelim.
Disc., sec. 70; sec. 195.)
66. From this we see that there is a world of creatures, living
things, animals, entelechies, souls in the smallest portion of matter.
67. Each portion of matter can be conceived as a garden full of
plants, and as a pond full of fishes. But each branch of a plant,
each member of an animal, each drop of its humors is also such a
garden or such a pond.
68. And although the earth and the air which are between the plants
of the garden, or the water which is between the fish of the pond,
are neither plants nor fish, yet they also contain plants and fishes,
but most often so minute as to be imperceptible to us.
69. Thus there is nothing fallow, nothing sterile, nothing dead
in the universe, no chaos, no confusion save in appearance, somewhat
as might it appear in a pond at a distance, in which one would see
a confused movement and, as it were, a swarming of fish in the pond,
without separately distinguishing the fish themselves. (Pref. [GP
V 40, 44])
70. Hence we see that each living body has a dominant entelechy,
which in an animal is the soul; but the members of this living body
are full of other living things, plants, animals, each of which
also has its entelechy, or its dominant soul.
71. But it must not be imagined, as has been done by some who have
misunderstood my thought, that each soul has a mass or portion of
matter belonging exclusively to itself or assigned to it forever,
and that it consequently possesses other inferior living things,
destined to serve it forever. For all bodies are in a perpetual
flux like rivers, and parts enter them and leave them continually.
72. Thus the soul changes its body only little by little, and by
degrees, so that it is never deprived at once of all its organs;
and there is often metamorphosis in animals, but never metempsychosis
or transmigration of souls; nor are there entirely separated souls
or spirits without bodies. God alone is completely without body.
(secs. 90, 124.)
73. It also follows from this that there is never absolute generation
nor, strictly speaking, complete death, involving the separation
of the soul. What we call generations are developments and growths;
what we call deaths are envelopments and diminutions.
74. Philosophers have been much perplexed about the origin of forms,
entelechies, or souls; but today when it has become known through
careful studies of plants, insects, and animals that the organic
bodies of nature are never products of chaos or putrefaction, but
always come from seeds, in which there was undoubtedly some preformation,
it is judged that not only was the organic body already there before
conception, but also a soul in this body, and, in short, the animal
itself; and that through conception this animal has merely been
prepared for a great transformation, in order to become an animal
of another kind. Something like this is seen even apart from generation,
as when worms become flies and caterpillars become butterflies.
(secs. 86, 89; Pref. [GP V 40ff]; secs. 90, 187, 188, 403, 86, 397)
75. Those animals of which some are raised by means of conception
to the rank of larger animals may be called spermatic; but those
among them which remain in their own kind (that is, the majority)
are born, multiply, and are destroyed like the large animals, and
it is only a few elect that pass to a greater theater.
76. But this was only half the truth: I judged, therefore, that
if the animal never begins naturally, it no more ends naturally,
and that not only will there be no generation, but also no complete
destruction or death in the strict sense. And these a posteriori
reasonings, drawn from experience, agree perfectly with my a priori
principles, as deduced above. (sec. 90)
77. Thus it may be said that not only is the soul (mirror of an
indestructible universe) indestructible, but also the animal itself,
even though its machine may often perish in part and cast off or
put on organic coverings.
78. These principles have given me a way of explaining naturally
the union or rather the conformity of the soul and the organic body.
The soul follows its own laws, and the body likewise follows its
own laws; and they agree with each other in virtue of the harmony
preestablished among substances, since they are all representations
of the same universe. (Pref. [GP V 39]; secs. 340, 352, 353, 358)
79. Souls act according to the laws of final causes through appetitions,
ends and means. Bodies act according to the laws of efficient causes
or motions. And the two kingdoms, that of efficient causes and that
of final causes, are in harmony with one another.
80. Descartes recognized that souls cannot impart any force to
bodies, because there is always the same quantity of force in matter.
Nevertheless he believed that the soul could change the direction
of bodies. But this is because in his time it was not known that
there is a law of nature which affirms also the conservation of
the same total direction in matter. Had Descartes noticed this he
would have come upon my system of preestablished harmony. (Pref.
[GP V 44]; secs. 22, 59, 60, 61, 63, 66, 345, 346 sqq., 354, 355)
81. According to this system bodies act as if (to suppose the impossible)
there were no souls, and souls act as if there were no bodies, and
both act as if each influenced the other.
82. As regards minds or rational souls, though I find that what
I have just said is at bottom true for all living things and animals
(namely that animals and souls only begin when the world begins
and no more come to an end than the world does), yet there is this
peculiarity in rational animals, that their small spermatic animals,
so long as they are only that, have merely ordinary or sensitive
souls; but when those who are chosen, so to speak, attain to human
nature through an actual conception, their sensitive souls are elevated
to the rank of reason and to the prerogative of minds. (secs. 91,
397)
83. Among other differences which exist between ordinary souls
and minds, some of which I have already noted, there is also this:
that souls in general are living mirrors or images of the universe
of created things, but that minds are also images of the divinity
itself, or of the author of nature, capable of knowing the system
of the universe and of imitating it to some extent through architectonic
patterns, each mind being like a small divinity in its own sphere.
(sec. 147)
84. It is this that enables minds to enter into a kind of society
with God, and makes it that, in relation to them, he is not only
what an inventor is to his machine (which is the relation of God
to other created things), but also what a prince is to his subjects,
and even what a father is to his children.
85. From this it is easy to conclude that the collection of all
minds must compose the city of God, that is, the most perfect state
that is possible, under the most perfect of monarchs. (sec. 146;
Summary, Obj. 2)
86. This city of God, this truly universal monarchy, is a moral
world in the natural world, and is the most exalted and most divine
among the works of God; and it is in it that the glory of God truly
consists, for he would have no glory were his greatness and goodness
not known and admired by minds. It is also in relation to this divine
city that God properly has goodness, whereas his wisdom and power
are manifested everywhere.
87. As we have shown above that there is a perfect harmony between
the two natural kingdoms, the one of efficient causes, the other
of final causes, we should notice here also another harmony between
the physical kingdom of nature and the moral kingdom of grace, that
is, between God considered as architect of the machine of the universe
and God considered as monarch of the divine city of minds. (secs.
62, 74, 118, 248, 112, 130, 247)
88. This harmony brings it about that things are led to grace by
the very ways of nature, and that this globe, for example, must
be destroyed and repaired by natural means at moments when the government
of spirits requires it, for the punishment of some and the reward
of others. (secs. 18 sqq., 110, 244, 245, 340)
89. It may also be said that God as architect satisfies in every
respect God as legislator, and thus that sins must carry their penalty
with them, through the order of nature, and even in virtue of the
mechanical structure of things; and likewise that noble actions
will attain their rewards by mechanical means, in relation to bodies,
although this cannot and ought not always to happen immediately.
90. Finally, under this perfect government no good action will
go unrewarded and no bad one unpunished, and everything must result
in the well-being of the good, that is, of those who are not dissatisfied
in this great state, but who trust in providence, after having done
their duty, and who love and imitate, as they should, the author
of all good, finding pleasure in the contemplation of his perfections,
as is the way of genuine pure love, which takes pleasure in the
happiness of the beloved. This is what leads wise and virtuous people
to devote their efforts to everything which appears in harmony with
the presumptive or antecedent will of God, and yet makes them content
with what God actually brings about by his secret, consequent or
decisive will, recognizing that if we could sufficiently understand
the order of the universe, we would find that it exceeds all the
wishes of the wisest, and that it is impossible to make it better
than it is, not only for the whole in general but also for ourselves
in particular, if we are attached, as we ought to be, to the author
of the whole, not only as the architect and efficient cause of our
being, but as to our master and to the final cause which ought to
be the whole aim of our will and which alone can make for our happiness.
(secs. 134, 278; Pref. [GP V 27, 28])
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