IT

A MIRACULOUS PEOPLE

т Is impossible to contemplate the annals of Greek literature and art without being struck with them, as by far the most extraordinary and brilliant phenomena in the history of the human mind. The very language-even in its primitive simplicity, as it came down from the rhapsodists who celebrated the exploits of Hercules and Theseus, was as great a wonder as any it records. All the other tongues that civilized man has spoken are poor and feeble and barbarous, in comparison with it. Its compass and flexibility, its riches and its powers, are altogether unlimited. It not only expresses with precision all that is thought or known at any given period, but it enlarges itself naturally, with the progress of science, and affords, as if without an effort, a new phrase, or a systematic nomenclature whenever one is called for. It is equally adapted to every variety of style and subject to the most shadowy subtlety of distinction, and the utmost exactness of definition, as well as to the energy and the pathos of popular eloquence to the majesty, the elevation, the variety of the epic, and the boldest license of the dithyrambic, no less than to the sweetness of the elegy, the simplicity of the pastoral, or the heedless gayety and delicate characterization of comedy. Above all what is an unspeakable charm a sort of naïveté is peculiar to it, which appears in all those various styles, and is quite as becoming and agreeable in a historian or a philosopher - Xenophon for instance-as in the light and jocund numbers of Anacreon. Indeed, were there no other object in learning Greek but to see to what perfection language is capable of being carried, not only as a medium of communication, but as an instrument of thought, we see not why the time of a young man would not be just as well bestowed in acquiring a knowledge of it-for all the purposes, at least, of a liberal or elementary education-as in learning algebra, another specimen of a language or arrangement of signs perfect in its kind. But this wonderful idiom happens to have been spoken, as was hinted in the preceding paragraph, by a race as wonderful. The very first monument of their genius- the most ancient relic of letters in the western world-stands to this day altogether unrivaled in the exalted class to which it belongs. What was the history of this immortal poem and of its great fellow? Was it a single individ

ual, and who was he, that composed them? Had he any master or model? What had been his education, and what was the state of society in which he lived? These questions are full of interest to a philosophical inquirer into the intellectual history of the species, but they are especially important with a view to the subject of the present discussion. Whatever causes account for the matchless excellence of these primitive poems, and for that of the language in which they are written, will go far to explain the extraordinary circumstance, that the same favored people left nothing unattempted in philosophy, in letters, and in arts, and attempted nothing without signal, and, in some cases, unrivaled success. Winckelmann undertakes to assign some reasons for this astonishing superiority of the Greeks, and talks very learnedly about a fine climate, delicate organs, exquisite susceptibility, the full development of the human form by gymnastic exercises, etc. For our own part, we are content to explain the phenomenon after the manner of the Scottish school of metaphysicians, in which we learned the little that we profess to know of that department of philosophy, by resolving it at once in an original law of nature; in other words, by substantially, but decently, confessing it to be inexplicable.

From an essay on "Classical Learning."

GOTTFRIED WILHELM VON LEIBNITZ

(1646-1716)

TTFRIED WILHELM VON LEIBNITZ, one of the most celebrated philosophers and mathematicians of the seventeenth century, was born at Leipsic, Germany, July 6th, 1646.

His father was professor of Law in Leipsic University, where Leibnitz himself was educated in jurisprudence and philosophy. After studying mathematics at Jena and taking a degree of Doctor of Law at Altdorf, he began life as an assistant in revising the statutes for the elector of Mainz, in whose service he remained for about six years, leaving it to reside at Hanover where for forty years he served the Brunswick family under three successive princes, - dying November 14th, 1716, in neglect due to the fact that the House of Brunswick had succeeded to the throne of England and removed its seat to London. It is said that there was only a single mourner at his grave, and an eyewitness of the interment says that he was "buried more like a robber than what he really was, the ornament of his country. » He was a man of almost universal genius, "distinguished in mathematics, natural science, philosophy, theology, history, jurisprudence, politics, and philology." He made notable discoveries in physics, and invented a calculating machine which "added, subtracted, multiplied, divided, and extracted roots." Among his many celebrated writings, those which continue to be most generally read are his philosophical works, a valuable translation of which has been recently made by Prof. George Martin Duncan, of Yale University.

ON THE ULTIMATE ORIGIN OF THINGS

N ADDITION to the world or aggregate of finite things, there is some unique Being who governs, not only like the soul in me, or rather like the Ego itself in my body, but in a much higher relation. For one Being dominating the universe not only rules the world, but he creates and fashions it, is superior to the world, and, so to speak, extramundane, and by this very fact is the ultimate reason of things. For the sufficient reason of existence can be found neither in any particular thing, nor in

the whole aggregate or series. Suppose a book on the elements of geometry to have been eternal and that others had been successively copied after it, it is evident, that, although we might account for the present book by the book which was its model, we could, nevertheless, never, by assuming any number of books whatever, reach a perfect reason for them; for we may always wonder why such books have existed from all time; that is, why books are and why they are thus written. What is true of books is also true of the different states of the world, for, in spite of certain laws of transformation, a succeeding state is in a certain way only a copy of the preceding, and to whatever anterior state you may go back you will never find there a perfect reason why, forsooth, there is any world at all, and such a world as exists. For even if you imagine the world eternal, nevertheless, since you posit nothing but a succession of states, and as you find a sufficient reason for them in none of them whatsoever, and as any number of them whatever does not aid you in giving a reason for them, it is evident that the reason must be sought elsewhere. For in eternal things it must be understood that even where there is no cause there is a reason which, in perduring things, is necessity itself or essence, but in the series of changing things, if it were supposed that they succeed each other eternally, this reason would be, as will soon be seen, the prevalence of indications where the reasons are not necessitating (by an absolute or metaphysical necessity, the opposite of which would imply contradiction), but inclining. From which it follows that, by supposing the eternity of the world, an ultimate extramundane reason of things, or God, cannot be escaped.

The reasons of the world, therefore, lie hidden in something extramundane different from the chain of states or series of things the aggregate of which constitutes the world. We must, therefore, pass from physical or hypothetical necessity, which determines the posterior states of the world by the prior, to something which is absolute or metaphysical necessity, the reason for which cannot be given. For the present world is necessary, physically or hypothetically, but not absolutely or metaphysically. It being granted, indeed, that the world is such as it is, it follows that things may hereafter be such as they are. But as the ultimate origin must be in something which is metaphysically necessary, and as the reason of the existing can only be from the existing, there must exist some one being metaphysically necessary, or

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whose essence is existence; and thus there exists something which differs from the plurality of beings or from the world, which, as we have recognized and shown, is not metaphysically necessary.

But in order to explain a little more clearly how, from eternal or essential or metaphysical truths, temporary, contingent, or physical truths arise, we ought first to recognize that from the very fact that something exists rather than nothing, there is in possible things, that is, in the very possibility or essence, a certain need of existence, and, so to speak, some claim to existence; in a word, that essence tends itself towards existence. Whence it further follows that all possible things, whether expressing essence or possible reality, tend by equal right toward existence, according to their quantity of essence or reality, or according to the degree of perfection which they contain, for perfection is nothing else than quantity of essence.

Hence it is most clearly understood that among the infinite combinations of possibles and possible series, that one exists by which the most of essence or of possibility is brought into existence. And, indeed, there is always in things a principle of determination which is to be taken from the greatest and the smallest, or in such a way that the greatest effect is obtained with the least, so to speak, expenditure. And here the time, place, or, as many say, the receptivity or capacity of the world. may be considered as the expenditure or the ground which can be most easily built upon, whereas the varieties of forms correspond to the commodiousness of the edifice and the multiplicity and elegance of its chambers. And it is with it in this respect as with certain games where all the spaces on a table are to be filled according to determined laws. Now, unless a certain skill be employed, you will be finally excluded by unfavorable spaces and forced to leave many more places empty than you can or wish. But there is a certain very easy way of filling the most possible space. Just as, therefore, if it is resolved to make a triangle, there being no other determining reason, it commonly happens that an equilateral results; and if it is resolved to go from one point to another without any further determination as to the way, the easiest and shortest path will be chosen; so it being once posited that being is better than not being, or that there is a reason why something should be rather than nothing, or that we must pass from the possibility to the act, it follows that even in the absence of every other determination the quantity of