Georg Friedrich Meier: Thoughts on the condition of the soul after death – Against Israel Canz

The final chapter of Meier’s work is dedicated to a reading of Israel Gottlieb Canz’s 1741 book Überzeugender Beweis aus der Vernunft von der Unsterblichkeit sowohl der Menschen Seelen insgemein, als besonders der Kinder-Seelen (roughly: Convincing proof by reason of the immortality of both human soul in general and particularly child souls). Even judging from the title of the book it is obvious that Canz is attempting to do what Meier has deemed impossible. Meier himself considers Canz’s attempt more worthy of a closer look than those of other contemporaries. In addition, Canz represents a Wolffian of an earlier generation compared to Meier, thus, it is of interest to see what Meier particularly criticises in Canz’s ideas.

Canz begins his work with preliminary discussion about what the immortality of the human soul actually means. He particularly suggests that, if the human soul merely slept eternally after its death, this would be equal to destroying the soul. Meier does not agree with this, since true destruction would mean that the soul could not at all interact with other substances in the world. Furthermore, Meier thinks, even while sleeping, the soul could still have obscure representations, thus, sensations, feelings and desires.

Canz first argues that the soul is a simple thing and won’t thus disperse at the time of death, like material bodies would do. Meier is not interested in this argument, since he thinks that simplicity of the soul has nothing to do with its possible immortality. He does contradict Canz’s statement that a materialistic reading of the human soul would imply that the soul is completely dispersed after death. Instead, Meier points out a materialist could think that the soul is a bodily atom and therefore indivisible and separable from the body.

Meier picks up the argument, when Canz tries to prove that the human soul will retain its consciousness after death. Canz begins by stating that as long as a substance endures, it will retain its force. Meier considers this to be a too vague statement. We could say, Meier notes, that an actual substance always has some force, but this force could change, if the substance is finite and contingent. By this Meier means that a substance might be unable to do something that it could do earlier: an old cherry tree might not anymore produce fruits, while an old animal loses its ability to reproduce and an old scholar their ability to demonstrate. Hence, Meier concludes, nothing says that the soul couldn’t lose its consciousness or ability of clear representations after its death. Thus, if Canz wanted to prove otherwise, he should prove that the soul retains not just its force, but the same grade of force.

Canz continues by insisting that the soul always has the same essence. Meier admits this, because he thinks that the essence of the soul consists of the internal possibility of the soul to represent the world according to the place of the human body and that the soul necessarily has this possibility. Yet, Meier objects that although the essence of the soul remains, the same does not hold of the nature of the soul and especially of its force to think, which is contingent and variable. If the soul is actual, it has the possibility to think, Meier admits, but because it is finite, not everything possible is actually in it. Thus, the soul can remain a soul without actually thinking: indeed, we are human souls even before our birth and while sleeping.

Canz tries to further his proof by denying that anything could change its species. Meier admits that this is true enough, when we say that elephants cannot become mice and canaries cannot become horses. Yet, Canz is trying to suggest that a soul that now has distinct representations cannot become such that would have only confused or even only obscure representations. Meier points out that an opposite transition happens to the human soul during birth, so he finds no reason to doubt that a soul might return to its prenatal state through death.

Canz thinks he has established the position that the human soul must have reason, if it just is actual, just because it is always in itself possible that the soul has distinct representations. Meier emphasises once again that Canz has not managed to prove this result, because despite possibly having distinct representations, the soul might still not have enough force to actually form them. Thus, Meier continues, it is not contradictory to assume that a soul had been a mere animal before birth, without a physical possibility to use reason, and only after birth received physical possibility of reason. Indeed, he adds, such a change would not require a leap, but only a gradual development of our capacity to represent. It could well be that death would gradually diminish our capacities and make us physically incapable to reason, just like often happens in old age.

Canz goes on to argue that the human soul does not just stay in the same class of things after its death, but will always rise to higher levels and thus will have greater reason in the future. He justifies this with an analogy by saying that the state of the human soul before its birth was just a means for the goal of this life and thus less perfect. Indeed, Canz insists that all natural creatures go through a similar development of becoming more perfect, unless human will meddles with this natural progression. Meier finds all of this unconvincing. Firstly, he challenges the idea that means are always less perfect than the goal. Instead, means are the cause of the goal, and the cause is usually greater than its effect. Thus, although a single means might be less noble than the corresponding goal, all means are not. Indeed, Meier points out, wisdom and goodness of God is means for the glory that God receives in creation through them, still, wisdom and goodness must obviously be much nobler than God’s glory.

Hence, Meier continues, even Canz’s analogy of souls’ becoming more and more perfect after birth falls apart, because only God’s decree can guarantee it. In any case, Meier points out that we see old animals and plants becoming more imperfect without any human interference. The same fate appears to hold for old humans, as their faculties deteriorate, when they approach death. In addition, Meier makes the final move, the notion of hell is hard to reconcile with the idea of continuous perfection of the human soul.

Canz also uses an argument where the route to the conclusion is somewhat opposite. Now, he speaks of a principle that nature has gradually, throughout generations, perfected the world. He goes on to suggest that the world couldn’t constantly be improved if nature wouldn’t have also arranged for the continuing improvement of human souls. Meier sees nothing convincing in this argument, since there is no reason why human souls couldn’t improve the world just during this life.

Canz next proceeds to refute the possibility that the human souls would just sleep eternally after their death. He compares human souls with the sun and notes that if the sun would be covered by great clouds that prevented it from warming the earth, it would not be able to fulfil its inner drive. The same would happen, Canz argues, if the human soul would just sleep after death, as it would not even live, since its central drive would be stilled. Meier objects that even if the human soul would sleep, it might still act and live in some manner that is, by having obscure representations or dreams.

Canz also argues that nature never makes means that are useless. This would happen, he thinks, if the human soul was just sleeping after death and was unable to fulfil its drive to think. Meier points out that Canz appears to confuse ability and drive to think. Even if the human soul had the ability to think, its drive to think might be stilled and become so weak that it would not make us think anymore.

Canz goes on to insist that the human soul must have eternally those characteristics it has independent of its body, such as conceiving, judging and deducing. He again compares the human soul with the sun and considers the body to be like a cloud hindering the sun, so that a lack of body would just help the soul to think more clearly. Meier is adamantly against this idea, since he considers one of the main discoveries of the current philosophy that the soul is so closely connected to a body that it must have one also if it continued living after death. Thus, he sees a body as not just a hindrance of thinking, but required for focusing our thoughts, since they always need some object.

Canz continues to imagine the future disembodied state of the human soul and insists that it won’t need any sleep, because the need for it is caused by nothing else than the body being tired. We have already seen Meier being against the idea that the soul could exist without a body – and he points out that even the Bible speaks of the resurrection of bodies. Furthermore, he notes, even if the human soul would exist by itself, it would require sleep, because every finite force, and therefore also that of soul, weakens with time and loses the clarity of its representations. For instance, scholars who tire from reading lose their mental, not physical strength.

Meier has not found Canz’s bag of arguments convincing and thinks Canz is on even shakier grounds when attempting to show that the human soul remembers its previous life. Indeed, Canz tries to prove this with the rather incredible suggestion that the human soul can remember its previous life, because it can deduce from its state after death what its earlier life must have been. Meier points out, quite correctly, that this is not what we usually mean by memory, which requires a stronger awareness of having lived through past events.

Canz next goes on to argue that the continued existence of the human soul must have been something that God intends to occur. Most of his arguments involve basically the formula that destroying the human soul would be against God’s wisdom or goodness etc., and Meier’s counterpoint is often just that God looks for the best of the whole world and we might not know what that means for the human soul.

An interesting difference lies in what the two philosophers appear to say about the constitution of the world. Canz says that the world consists of a certain set of simple entities, and destruction of any of them would destroy the world and create a new one in its place, which would make God look like they made an error and had to correct it. Meier, on the other hand, considers the world to consist of not just a set of simple entities, but also of their spatio-temporal ordering. Thus, even the past entities of the world are still part of the world, even if they do not exist at this moment of time, just like Cicero is part of our world, even if he died in the Roman days.

Canz finally considers the question what happens to souls of small children who died before they had the chance to develop their reason. He is convinced that they will turn into fully reasoning persons at the time of death, just like tiny starlets that can finally shine, when the clouds have dispersed. Meier notes that Canz’s arguments here are even more dependent on unproven conjectures. Furthermore, he notes that Canz has difficulties with the objection concerning the oddness of how a child with nothing else, but obscure representations could suddenly have clear and distinct representations after death, especially as nature abhors such sudden leaps. Canz’s only answers are, firstly, an analogy that similar thing happens when we wake up from a deep sleep, and secondly, the first awakening of Adam to a full use of his faculties. Of the first answer, Meier points out that the sleeper in question, unlike a little child, has already had clear representations, while the case of Adam was explicitly a miraculous event.

Georg Friedrich Meier: Thoughts on the condition of the soul after death – Heaven and hell

After pondering our physical condition in the hypothesised life after death, Meier turns to the question what is our moral condition. By this moral condition or state of the soul he means everything that is dependent on its freedom, including free actions and capabilities together with all consequences following from them, such as rewards, punishments, perfections and imperfections.

Meier begins by dividing all good and evil into two types. The first of these types consists of goods and evils that is from a closer standpoint not dependent on the freedom of the soul, but either belong to its nature in a physically necessary manner or occur in combination with external causes we are used to call luck. Meier names these physical goods and evils, while the second type consists of moral goods and evils. The latter are then dependent from a closer standpoint on the freedom of the soul. Examples of such moral goods and evils are good actions, sins, virtues and vices.

As long as a finite substance exists, Meier insists, it acts. Now, every action causes a change or an accident in the finite substance, by which the sum of its perfections either increases or decreases. As long as a finite substance exists in the world, it is in connection with all other finite substances, which affect it and thus either increase or decrease its realities. If the soul continues living after death, Meier explains, this increase or decrease will also continue. Because our immortality is uncertain, it is also uncertain whether our soul will be happy or unhappy. If it is more blessed after death than in this life, we say that the soul is in heaven; but if it is more corrupt, we say that it is in hell.

Heaven and hell require actions, virtues, sins and vices, Meier says, thus, heaven and hell can be ascribed only to substances performing free actions. If a soul goes to heaven or hell, it must then be able to use its understanding and live like a person after its death. In other words, the soul must continue living after its death, it cannot sleep eternally or live only in a sensuous manner, but it must be conscious of itself, think reasonably and perform free actions. According to Meier, none of these things can be proven from reason, therefore it is uncertain whether there is heaven and hell for humans. Still, Meier considers it certain that if the soul can use its higher capacities after death, it will become either more blessed or more corrupt than in this life and that it is necessarily either in heaven or in hell. Furthermore, he is convinced, because of the Bible, that heaven and hell exist. Meier is also quick to add that while he thinks their existence is uncertain, he doesn’t deny it, and indeed, considers that high probability of heaven and hell can be proven by reason.

Meier explains that his purpose is not to do an exegetical treatise on what the Bible says about heaven and hell. Still, he emphasises that while some theologians have declared explanations of heaven and hell, other than their own, blasphemous, interpretations of the Bible can be objected with good conscience. Even so, Meier quickly adds that he won’t use biblical expressions to declare something about the Bible, but only as shorthands.

Reason cannot give as stimulating a concept of heaven as God reveals in the Bible, Meier continues. The Bible, he thinks, says that all moral evil with its bad consequences will disappear in heaven and all its denizens will be so perfect, despite their finity, that they will not be disturbed by anything in their happiness. Reason, on the other hand, cannot ascertain that souls in heaven will not sin, since even the most virtuous have in this life a capacity to sin, so that mere divorce from the body seems not reason enough to assume that sinning will end. Such a change we could understand, if it happened gradually, while sudden disappearance of sin would be a wonder, which cannot be proven by reason.

Similarly, Meier suggests, reason cannot tell with certainty whether there will be no consequences for sin in heaven, such as guilt and punishments. Sin naturally has consequences, according to Meier, and death as such could not take away these consequences, because it shouldn't break the order of nature. Thus, by reason we should assume that punishments continue in heaven, but God could miraculously suppress the natural order. This is in line with what the Bible tells us about the Saviour, Meier says, but reason cannot prove the existence of Christ. Meier also thinks that reason cannot say souls living in happier parts of heaven will remain there eternally. In order to remain, they would have to continue living virtuously, but we cannot be certain whether they won’t sin again. The Bible, on the other hand, assures us God will strengthen the souls in heaven so that they will not sin again, but this is a miracle that reason cannot prove.

So far Meier hasn’t been able to find anything certain about heaven, but there are such things, he assures us. Souls in heaven will be more blessed than they are in current life, in other words, in heaven blessedness must be greater than the opposite imperfection. Now, blessedness is not possible without virtue, so that the blessed in heaven will do more morally good than morally bad actions. They will especially do their duties toward God, but also toward themselves and others. Thus, Meier concludes, they will have to have good understanding, and clearer, more distinct and livelier concepts than in this world. Nothing else can we say about heaven with the help of reason, Meier insists.

Meier considers the question whether heaven is a reward for virtuous actions in this world. He thinks it cannot be just that, for then there could be people in heaven who would not act virtuously anymore after death or who would sin in heaven. Thus, blessedness in heaven should be a consequence of good deeds in heaven, although it could also be a reward for virtuous deeds in this world. Reason can regard heaven with certainty only as a natural reward or consequence of good actions, although it understands the possibility of God freely choosing to share extra rewards.

Meier thinks that everything he has said of heaven could be applied analogously to hell. The Bible gives a detailed view of the hell that reason could not demonstrate. Philosophers cannot say whether the damned could still make good actions, although we can assume that people who were more vicious than virtuous during their life will probably continue in the same manner and will thus find themselves in hell. To reason it seems probable that the damned can still do good things. Indeed, since no finite thing can be completely imperfect, in Meier’s opinion, reason cannot think a damned person without any perfections, because they must still have their essence, force and actuality. Reason might even assume that the damned will receive some rewards in hell, even if the Bible says that cannot happen, because good deeds will have their natural rewards, and where is a human being who would never do any good deeds?

Eternity of hell and punishment cannot be demonstrated by reason, Meier says. If hell had no exit, there would be no improvement nor conversion and God’s mercy would be eternally deprived from the damned. Reason can prove neither of these with certainty, because the amount of vice is contingent and thus damned could become virtuous and leave hell: God might harden the hearts of the damned, but reason cannot know this.

The only thing reason can say about hell with certainty, according to Meier, is that damned are less blessed there than in this life, and indeed, their unblessedness weighs clearly more than their remaining perfections, and all their unblessedness is based on sin and vice. The damned will have to do free actions in hell, hence, they will do more and greater sins than morally good actions. Because all sins presuppose practical errors, Meier thinks, the damned will have to think about many good and bad things, and these thoughts will either be as a whole false or then be so weak that they cannot determine the will of the damned. Indeed, they will have to have some satisfaction, but just of wrong things. The damned will sleep and be awake, and this will increase their pain, since the occasional sleep will make the pain clearer. Reason cannot say that the hell would be punishment only of sins in this world, since the damned will continue sinning and these sins will lead to at least natural punishments. Just like in the case of heaven, reason cannot say whether God will decree to those in hell additional punishments beyond the natural punishments.

Are the souls of the damned in hell physically more perfect than in this life? Will they have greater and stronger forces, will their powers of cognition and understanding be greater, will they have clearer, more distinct, more correct, more certain and livelier concepts than in this life? Meier reminds us that earlier we saw that we cannot decide on the basis of mere reason whether souls in general will be physically more or less perfect, yet, he at once adds, this is a different question. If the souls of the damned would be less perfect, they would not be as conscious of what was happening to them. Therefore, if the damned are to be punished properly, they should be more perfect. The problem is how could their will still be imperfect. Meier suggests that the damned must be lacking in truth, that is, their practical cognition must be either erroneous or not lively enough.

Meier still considers the question whether a dying person can know just on the basis of reason whether they are going to heaven or hell. He denies this, since we cannot know with certainty whether we have been more virtuous than vicious. Indeed, he adds, self-love often makes us confuse our vicious actions with virtuous deeds.

Meier concludes the chapter by considering attempted proofs for the immortality of the soul that are based on the goodness, wisdom and righteousness of God. Starting from goodness, he states that to show that something is in accord with the goodness of God, we should not just show that it is good in itself, but that it belongs to the best world. Indeed, something can be good in itself, but might cause imperfections in connection with other things: perfection of a part might contradict perfection of the whole. Meier thinks that we can know that all that happens in the world must be part of the best world, but we cannot beforehand say what is in accordance with God’s goodness. Indeed, even such a surprising thing as the fall of humans must have been for the best. Thus, he concludes, we cannot know whether denying immortality from the soul might serve other things, even if it takes some perfections away from the soul.

Meier thinks that it is even more difficult to argue anything on the basis of God’s wisdom: we know that best in every case is in accordance with God’s wisdom, but what is best? The system of the divine goals in the best world is incomprehensible to finite spirits, Meier insists, and we cannot do anything, but to wait for God’s plans to unfold. We cannot therefore say with certainty that immortality of our souls is in accordance with divine wisdom. It might seem unwise to first create something and then destroy it, Meier admits, but this is actually something we cannot be certain of: maybe human souls are so insignificant to the overall good of the universe that it is best to just get rid of them. Of course, we can abstractly say that human souls play an important part in achieving God’s goal of the best world and that eternally living soul would serve this goal better than a mortal spirit, but in relation to the whole creation of God the answer might be different. As a further point Meier notes the analogy that from an abstract viewpoint a sinless soul is better than sinful, but God has still allowed millions of souls to fall to sin.

Many people want to justify the immortality of human souls from divine righteousness, Meier notes, because God must reward and punish souls proportionally. Meier admits this, but immediately adds that we couldn’t then just assume that rewards and punishments in this world were not enough. At least natural rewards and punishments in this world are always equal to their causes and thus proportionate, although not always remarkable. Thus, if a virtuous person appears to face bad luck, they are either justly punished for some sins or then we are dealing with mere apparent evil. Meier considers the final objection that the free actions at the final moment of life should also require rewards and punishments, which cannot be given anymore in this life. His answer is that humans lose the ability for free actions long before the final moment of their life.

Georg Friedrich Meier: Thoughts on the condition of the soul after death – Will we have bodies in the beyond?

Having just shown how uncertain the question of our immortality is, Meier continues by investigating what we could say about our condition after death, assuming we exist at all. He notes that this condition has two different aspects: our moral state or condition or what is based on our freedom and our physical state or condition or what is not based on our freedom of soul, in other words, all the inner contingent features of the soul that are caused by natural necessity. Meier starts with a study of the physical condition, leaving the moral condition to a later chapter.

Meier begins by considering the condition of the soul at the very moment of death. He notes that people feel fear at impending death and thus think that death is something horrible. He then reassures the reader that this fear is either caused by something else than death itself or it is completely unfounded. Death itself is just a transition to a new condition and is therefore nothing to fear about, even if the condition after this transition or the end of our current condition might be.

Indeed, Meier goes on, all of our negative emotions in our current condition are caused by a clear feeling of imperfection. Thus, if it is probable that the soul is not even conscious of itself at the time of death, death has physically nothing to be afraid of. Now, death severs the connection of the soul and body, which makes all the feelings and sensations connected to organs of the body vanish. Dying soul cannot then immediately feel its body and it will not be conscious of the condition of the body and is even incapable of feeling pain. This still leaves the possibility that the soul might be in pain during the final moments just before death. Meier assures us that during these moments we have no external sensations and our soul probably sleeps without dreams.

Meier notes that before Christianity people often believed in reincarnation, probably because they couldn’t understand how soul could endure without a body. Since they knew of no other organic bodies than animals, they thought that the soul would occupy another human body or then some other animal body. Meier quickly dismisses the idea of reincarnation, not really with any arguments, but just by setting it aside. Still, he thinks that the idea of reincarnation contained the important notion that after its death the soul will have a new body.

Meier goes on to explain why we call a certain body our own. Firstly, we represent this body more strongly and more often than other bodies. Indeed, we immediately represent only our bodies, while the existence of other bodies we deduce from the effects they have on our sense organs. Furthermore, whenever we represent other bodies, we also represent our own body. Secondly, what we call our body is in most close combination with our soul, since our soul affects no other thing so immediately and strongly and no other finite thing affects our soul as immediately and strongly.

Thus, Meier concludes, if we can prove that the same things hold for some other body after our death, it can be shown that the soul will be connected to another body. Assuming then that the soul has after death representations of the bodies in the world and is connected to them, Meier insists that the level of these representations and connections varies quantitatively and one of these levels must be greatest. The body to which this greatest level applies will therefore be our own body. Furthermore, Meier adds, representing external things requires sensations, which also requires that the soul has its own body.

Meier makes the remark that the soul will then in a sense not die, since it will always be connected to a body – just not the same one that it had earlier. He quickly adds that this is not against the Bible, since the scripture does not deny that the soul will be embodied after its death. Of course, he notes, people have a tendency to ask for more detailed characteristics, when something is proven to exist, and if such characteristics cannot be described with any probability, they disbelieve the proof of the existence. Thus, people will want to know what our bodies after death will be like, and indeed, Meier says, there have been many speculations about them: they are shiny, weightless and have sense organs all over. Meier makes fun of all these speculations and tells the reader that some gourmands would probably insist that our new bodies must have a stomach, although actually nothing definite can yet be known about them.

Where do these new bodies then come from? Meier recounts that some newer philosophers suggest it will be a quintessence of our current bodies and thus resemble it in outline – a sort of astral body. He agrees that this would be in line with the principle that nature makes no leaps. Yet, he adds, we only have a very vague idea of the basic parts of the human body and we cannot comprehend how such an astral body would not even now interact with our visible body.

The next question Meier deals with concerns the constitution of the new bodies. Will they be more perfect or imperfect than the current ones and do they even belong to the same species? Meier will later argue that we cannot even know whether our soul will be more perfect or imperfect after our death, thus, he concludes, we also cannot say anything about the perfection of our future bodies. As for the question of the species of the body, Meier notes that nature mostly deals with similarities, but that organic processes also involve natural variety, such as when a caterpillar dies and becomes a butterfly. He also points out that before birth our bodies looked very different from what they look like after birth and suggests that the external shape is not an essential feature of the human bodies, but determined by the standpoint from which we represent the world.

Meier mentions theological discussions about souls sleeping for a while after death. He notes that there is no consensus how long this sleep would last, although some theologians have suggested it will last until resurrection. Meier thinks that the human reason can say nothing decisive about this issue, although a period of sleep appears probable, since death means passage from one body to another, which could imply that for a while we might have more obscure sensations. He adds that such a time of sleep should be especially accepted by those who believe that the soul will not have a body after death, since our soul in this life conceives things only in relation to its body and it would seem improbable that the soul gained completely new capacities. Then again, he immediately says, it also seems reasonable that the soul would be awake after death, because it should immediately be connected to another body, thus receiving new and therefore very clear representations.

The previous considerations of the physical state have been of no interest to moral or religion, Meier thinks, and then suggests a question that is: will the soul live after death spiritually or just sensuously? This question presupposes Leibnizian division of finite monads into three classes: the lowest class consists of elements of bodies that represent the world only obscurely, higher than these are sensuous souls that represent the world obscurely and clearly, but indistinctly, and the highest class is formed of finite spirits – including human souls – that represent at least parts of the world distinctly. Question is then whether souls can move from one class to another, either upwards or downwards

According to Meier, some philosophers have said that while there generally may be progress within a class, nothing can leave its class. Meier argues against this opinion, because we see things changing their classes daily: an ignorant person becomes learned, a caterpillar becomes a butterfly etc. The opinion is true if we speak of classes defined by essential differences, Meier admits, but we haven’t yet proven that, for instance, being unable to represent distinctly is an essential property of sensuous souls. A particular objection against souls changing their classes is that the souls are hindered by the limits of their force of representation. Meier notes that this argument just begs the question, since assuming sensuous souls to be incapable of becoming a spirit is just what had to be proven. Thus, Meier concludes, no one has yet proven that a soul could not move from one class to another.

Meier himself thinks that although it is not certain, it is at least very probable that an element of a body can become a sensuous soul and then a spirit. His argument hinges on the idea that a difference between obscure, clear, but indistinct, and distinct representations is just quantitative: an obscure representation becomes clear when its parts are forceful enough to distinguish the whole representation from other, while an indistinct representation becomes distinct, when its parts become clear representations. Thus, Meier insists, representative force that had represented only obscurely has to just grow and gain more parts to become more perfect. Experience seems to show that such growth happens, he adds, since babies still represent things obscurely. Corruption of representative force seems also possible, Meier adds, since no level of clarity is necessary and experience shows that e.g. formerly distinct representations are forgotten.

Meier foresees the objection that the ability to develop distinct representations is already a defining characteristic of spirits, which would lead us to straightforward idealism. He suggests that this is just a question of how to define words. By spirits, he thinks, is not usually meant any entities that have an absolute or abstract possibility for distinct representations. What is required, instead, is a hypothetical possibility for distinct representations in the current context. Furthermore, what is now hypothetically impossible can become hypothetically possible, thus, animals might in future become spirits, Meier concludes. In addition, while our soul is spirit as long as it is connected to a body in this world and hence belongs to the highest class of finite monads, it is possible that it will lose its higher capacities after death and even all consciousness. All of this depends on nothing but the decree of God.

Meier recounts that philosophers have argued that a soul will have a more perfect power of representation after death, because finite things must constantly increase their perfection, since perfection leads to more perfection, as a good tree bears only good fruits. He considers this a weak argument, since the good fruits might not anymore affect the finite thing that caused them. In addition, the human soul has many imperfections that can cause further imperfections that might overcome the perfections, just like imperfections of our body cause the ailments of old age. Meier mentions also an argument from analogy with birth: just like semen is turned more perfect in the womb, similar change happens when the soul gets a new body with its death. He points out that we cannot really say how good the analogy is, since we are not even sure whether the soul is not destroyed in death.

Could the soul just sleep eternally? If it will, Meier ponders, all its future representations will be obscure and it will descend to the level of mere elements of bodies. He notes that eternal sleep contains no contradiction, since clarity of our representations is not necessary. Furthermore, he says, eternal sleep is even hypothetically possible, because consciousness of the soul depends on constant help from God, and if God chooses not to help it anymore, the soul will sink into sleep. In addition, the soul could also be combined with a body similar to what it had before birth, which would also mean a relapse into eternal sleep. Then again, Meier admits, it is possible that God will continue helping the soul and that it will get a physically more perfect body that is better equipped for clear representations. Furthermore, although we cannot demonstrate anything certain about this question, Meier insists, it is more probable that it will not sleep eternally, since God cannot reward and punish us, if the soul sleeps eternally.

Assuming that the soul won’t sleep eternally after its death, Meier thinks he can prove that it will still sleep sometimes. If we assume immortality to be true, he suggests, the nature of our soul isn’t completely changed, and thus it will want to rest from time to time, as its clear representations become obscure: rest renews our powers and makes our representations very clear after a period of obscurity. According to Meier, if there was no sleep in heaven and hell, they wouldn’t feel as pleasurable and painful, but would eventually become obscure.

Supposing that the soul does not sleep eternally, will it retain its higher capacities or will it descend into a state of an animal? Like with many questions before, Meier has to conclude that this depends on God’s will and cannot thus be demonstrated. The supposed proofs Meier considers fall for the same errors as proofs against the soul changing its class after death.

Can the soul distinctly remember its state before death and can it know itself to be the same person as it was? Meier refers to some ancient philosophers who had assumed that the soul will forget everything of its current life: he explicitly mentions the story of Lethe, the mythical river of forgetfulness. Meier notes that there is no reason to assume that the soul won’t forget everything and in current life we have examples of people losing their memories due to a sickness. Some might even think it a good thing to forget all the pains of the current life, he adds. Then again, it is more natural and more probable to assume that the soul will remember itself.

Meier goes through some fanciful ideas of the places where souls will go after their deaths: some people think heaven lies at the centre of Earth and the hell on a comet, some think that souls remain on Earth, others believe they will sour the stars. Meier thinks it futile to investigate all these suggestions. What we can say, according to Meier, is that if the soul is immortal, it will find itself after death in such a position that is demanded by the standpoint from which it represents the world and through which it steps in close connection with things that are appropriate for the role it will play after death. Furthermore, he thinks it necessary that the soul will remain in the world, because the world is a series of all actual contingent things: even the biblical heaven and hell would be just parts of this world.

Even less can we say about the actions of the soul after death, Meier says. According to him, if the soul can use all its capacities, it will have many new representations. Thus, it will have many new desires and aversions and will move its new body in many ways. Anything else about these actions cannot be known, because the place the souls are in and the things they are in contact with determine their actions also.

What happens to the souls of children who die before they have learned to use their reason? Again, Meier thinks that we cannot really know. If the souls of children are not destroyed, they will certainly live forever, and then they will get new bodies, which might enable the use of higher capacities, Meier argues. Still, all of this is uncertain, and their current lack of higher capacities makes all of this slightly more improbable. The case is similar with old people who have exhausted their capacities and have come into a second childhood. Meier notes that some people suggest that the feebleness of the faculties of the elderly is wholly dependent on the frailty of their body and that freedom from this body would instantly return the higher capacities. He answers that considering the harmony of the soul and body, it is certain that the soul has something to do with their demented state.

Georg Friedrich Meier: Thoughts on the condition of the soul after death – Is there life after death?

This time we are considering the part of Meier’s treatise he himself considers the most important: he will show that the immortality of the soul is uncertain, making it thus even more uncertain what the life after death would be like. Meier begins from something he considers to be a proven fact, that is, the simplicity and immateriality of the soul. Like all simple beings, he continues, the soul has – or more likely, is – a force that supports its accidental features. This means that the soul exists as long as it retains its force, which is its nature.

This force or nature is the sufficient reason for the changes of the soul, Meier notes. Thus, as long as the soul exists, this nature acts, and this acting can be witnessed in the various ways its accidental features change. These changes are what the life of the soul consists of. As long as the soul exists, then, it lives, or the soul and its life are intrinsically entwined to one another. Meier adds the clarification that it is only the sensuous life he is speaking of and thus the only thing that needs to be proven is this sensuous life of the soul.

Meier follows the Wolffian tradition in stating that simple things like the soul cannot be taken apart, but they can only be destroyed through a complete annihilation, whereby nothing remains of the simple thing that does not exist anymore. Since the soul is a finite thing, it changes and can even fail to exist. Thus, Meier concludes, it is possible that it will be annihilated or that it dies after its death. Indeed, thinking the soul necessarily exists would be tantamount to equating it with God.

Now, Meier admits, this argument determines the mortality of the soul only in itself or in abstraction. To determine whether the soul will truly die or not requires determining whether there are any actual causes that would annihilate it. Meier notes that if the soul is annihilated, it must be annihilated by some substance and its force, which has to be one of three kinds: the soul itself, some other finite substance and its force or God with their infinite power.

Meier quickly concludes that the soul cannot annihilate itself: if the soul is to do something, it must exist, excluding the possibility of the soul being annihilated when it acts. For a somewhat similar reason, Meier insists, a soul cannot be annihilated by other finite things. This proposition Meier bases on the general fact that when a finite thing acts on another finite thing, the other thing acts also in the same measure back to the original thing. This means that if a finite thing would annihilate another, this other thing would at the same time have to exist and act on the first thing, making the annihilation impossible.

The only option left is then that God might annihilate the soul. Meier notes that God should be able to do everything that is in itself possible, which implies that God must also be able to kill the soul. Of course, he adds, God might not choose to do so. Still, he thinks, we cannot really know what God has chosen about this matter. Following the common assumptions of the Wolffian tradition, Meier thinks that God has chosen to actualise the best possible world. Since we haven’t died yet, we cannot know by experience whether our soul will continue to live after it. Then again, if we wanted to demonstrate this future life without relying on experience, we would have to show that it is a necessary ingredient of the best possible world. Such a demonstration, in Meier's opinion, would require going through all the events of the actual world, which clearly exceeds our capacities.

Meier has concluded the main task of this chapter: he has shown we cannot be certain that God won’t destroy us and thus our immortality cannot be demonstrated. Then again, he adds, we also cannot demonstrate that immortality would be contradictory. Meier goes even so far as to argue that materialism is not incompatible with the immortality of the soul. Of course, he immediately adds, if the soul were just another name for the body or some part of it, like the brain, it would die at the same time as the body dies. Then again, materialism is compatible with the position that the soul is something different from the body, just as long as it will be material, for instance, an atom or a combination of atoms. As an atom, the soul could very well be immortal, and even if the soul were a combination of atoms, it might be such that it cannot be broken apart like ordinary matter.

As a conclusion of this chapter, Meier goes through a list of supposed proofs for the immortality of soul, showing all to be lacking. I shall go through these proofs and Meier’s criticism of them very quickly:

• Simplicity justifies immortality; Meier notes that this assumption ignores the possibility of God annihilating the soul
• Our drive for eternal life justifies immortality; Meir insists that even if we had such an innate drive, this would by itself justify immortality just as poorly as our sexual drive would prove we will have sex at some point
• Shared conviction of all nations justifies immortality; Meier notes that before Copernicus we could have with similar grounds said that the Sun truly rotates the Earth
• Failure of arguments against immortality justifies immortality; Meier thinks that this argument is as convincing as if he would say that the Moon must have telepathetic denizens, because we cannot prove it wrong.

Georg Friedrich Meier: Thoughts on the condition of the soul after death – What is immortality?

After the preliminary considerations, Meier begins his investigation by elucidation of what is meant by the soul being immortal. He notes that many earlier philosophers, especially those of Cartesian school, had said that the soul's immortality means that it will not be decomposed. Because they also thought that the soul was simple and thus composed of nothing further, they imagined they had sufficiently proven the soul to be immortal.

Meier notes that this Cartesian notion of immortality is simply inadequate: even if the soul cannot be destroyed, it might still fail to be immortal. As an extreme case of an opposite kind, Meier introduces Ludvig Thümmig’s notion of immortality. Thümmig had said that to be immortal, the soul must not just be indestructible, but it also must exist eternally after death, live after death and finally recollect its previous life. Meier thinks Thümmig includes in his notion things that are not really about the immortality of the soul, but about the condition of the soul after death. The true notion should then lie somewhere between Cartesian and Thümmig’s notions.

Meier starts his own discussion of immortality with a discussion of life, which he defines, following Baumgarten, as something continuing its own nature. By nature Meier means sum of all such inner determinations that causes changes in accidences or makes them actual. Thus, he elucidates, nature of something does not include just its essence and capacities, but also forces. One could then prove that something lives by showing, firstly, that it continues to have its capacities or forces, or secondly, by showing that it continues to have actual accidences or changes in them that depend on its particular nature. Meier notes that the latter method is more common and easier, and indeed, the only way we can prove the life of something from experience, because we cannot directly perceive capacities and forces. For instance, we can know a tree has not died during winter, only if we see it grow leaves again in spring.

Death Meier then defines as the opposite of life, that is, interruption in the nature of something. Hence, something can be known to have died, firstly, if we know a priori that its forces have disappeared, or secondly, if we know a posteriori that it has no natural changes or accidences anymore. Note that the dead thing can still change in a manner that does not belong to its particular nature, just like a dead tree can still rot.

Meier continues by defining human being as a complex consisting of a reasoning soul and a human body, which are in a close relation of correspondence. Humans thus have three types of life: life of their body, life of their soul and life of the whole human being. Meier notes that the life of a human being requires the life of the body and the soul. Then again, he adds, if a human body lives, so must its soul and the whole human being also. The death of the human being implies then the death of the body and the ensuing separation of the body and the soul, but it need not imply the death of the soul.

In separation from the body, Meier says, the soul has two kinds of life, because it has two types of forces. In regard to its lower capacities, based on indistinct representations, it has sensuous or animal life, while in regard to its higher capacities, based on distinct representations, it has spiritual life. Now, he adds, spiritual life requires sensuous life, but not the other way around, as we can see in a sleeping person. Soul can then also die in two senses: by losing its sensuous life and thus all representation or by losing its spiritual life and only distinct representations.

Meier defines mortal to be something that can die, while immortal things cannot die. Because what is impossible cannot be actual, assuming the immortality of the soul means, he explains, assuming that the soul cannot die and that it will continue living after the death of the human being. Because what is possible need still not be actual, mortality of the soul might not mean that it would actually die, although usually people assume that the mortality of the soul implies its eventual death.

Following common definitions in the ontology of his times, Meier notes that possibility and impossibility could be absolute or hypothetical. This implies then two senses of mortality and immortality. If something is absolutely or in itself mortal, it can die, when we do not regard its relation to other things. Hypothetically mortal, on the other hand, is mortal when regarded in relation to other things or in some context. Meier notes that the human body is mortal both in itself and hypothetically. Absolutely immortal is then something, the death of which would imply in itself a contradiction: this sort of immortality Meier reserves only for the highest being. Hypothetically immortal, then, is something which cannot die in some context. Meier notes that a thing can be absolutely mortal without being hypothetically mortal in all contexts, while hypothetically mortal is always absolutely mortal. Absolutely immortal, on the other hand, cannot die in any context and is therefore hypothetically immortal.

Meier notes that for the sake of religion and morality it is not enough to prove that the soul is immortal or continues living after death, because it could just sleep or live like an animal. Instead, if one wants to defend religion and morality with such proofs, they should also show that the soul is at least occasionally conscious of itself and of other things in the future life, that it uses at least occasionally its higher forces, that is, freedom and understanding, and that in its future state it also remembers what it did while attached to the body and even recognises its identity with its former state. These latter properties, Meier elucidates, do not characterise the immortality of the soul, but something more, namely the condition of the soul after the death.

Georg Friedrich Meier: Thoughts on the condition of the soul after death (1746)

Meier’s Gedanken von dem Zustande der Seelen nach dem Tode is a rare book for its time, since although it studies the condition of the human soul after death, it does not try to demonstrate that this soul will continue to exist then. Indeed, he says, most of the demonstrations suggested for the immortality of our souls seem convincing just because the conclusion has already been accepted. We believe in the afterlife, because the idea agrees with our hopes, and indeed, we picture the afterlife to be as we would like it to be: Meier mentions a noble who was certain that in the afterlife souls of the nobility won’t have to mingle with souls from the lower classes.

Meier still makes sure to ascertain that he isn’t trying to disprove the immortality of the soul either. The reason for such an explanation is clear, since Meier speaks of the pressure of religious zealots, who censure everyone who even appears to go against such central religious dogmas. Meier assures the reader that he believes in the immortality of the soul and the final judgement of all humans, just because the Bible has taught him so. He even admits that we can be morally certain of this immortality and commends anyone who wants to go even further and demonstrate it with complete mathematical certainty.

Still, Meier says, the aim of his work is to show that such a demonstration is impossible for human beings, although, as he immediately adds, human reason is not inevitably led to doubt the immortality of the human soul. He will even analyse some suggested demonstrations and show where they fail to prove what they set out to prove. Finally, Meier concludes, his work will make it clear that nothing certain can be revealed about the condition of our soul after death.

Meier emphasises that his work has not been motivated by mere arrogance. Instead, he wants to raise the value of faith and scripture by lowering the worth of the human reason. Furthermore, Meier insists, the distinction of the faith and the reason also defends the faith: if one would think that belief in the immortality of the soul is based on nothing else than supposed demonstrations of reason, the weaknesses of these demonstrations would place the faith also in jeopardy.

Meier scorns all those who prefer leaving people with the incorrect opinion that demonstration of the immortality of the soul is possible in the name of religion and morality. On the contrary, he says, religion and morality do not need such weak defences. Immortality does motivate us for morality and religion, but motives need not have mathematical, but mere moral certainty.

Morality specifically, Meier thinks, has motives, even if we didn’t believe in immortality, because it has good consequences even in this life, and at least philosophers are equipped to understand these motives. Even if other people would not recognise these motives, Meier says, they still wouldn’t all become murderers and robbers, if they did not believe in the immortality of the human soul. His justification is that people generally do not act on the basis of some theories, but on the basis of their passions and inclinations. Furthermore, he insists, universal lack of morality could not occur, since, for instance, a universal disregard of property rights would soon collapse, since no one could make sure that they could keep on to what they had stolen from others.

Even religion could exist with the belief in human immortality, Meier says. True, he admits, most non-believers in immortality are atheists. Still, the demonstration of God’s existence is independent of the truth of our immortality, and when we accept the existence of God already, we always have to accept religion also.

Christian Wolff: Natural right 6 – What a scholar must do

Wolff ends this part of Jus naturae with a study of the duties of a scholar, that is, a person who knows of things. Wolff begins by noting that there are different kinds of scholars depending on what the person in question knows: e.g. there are scholars of law and scholars of languages. Furthermore, he continues, scholars come in different grades. Scholars of the lowest or vulgar order merely know facts. More experienced scholars, on the other hand, have philosophical or even mathematical understanding why something is true. The highest order of scholars, finally, are capable of finding new truths.

Wolff suggests that all scholars should aim for the proper place in this hierarchy, that is, the place where they can achieve something. Thus, if they can ascend to a higher order, they should not be content with remaining on a lower order. Indeed, scholars of all orders should continuously try to progress further, Wolff says, and not be satisfied with the knowledge of things they have already acquired.

Wolff is also a proponent of cooperation in scholarship: if some scholar can help others further, for instance, by providing advice in acquiring information or in finding new truths, they should do so. Particularly, scholars of superior grades should teach those of inferior grades things that are useful in promoting knowledge and understanding. On the other hand, a scholar who cannot decide something on their own should follow the guidance of other, preferably more experienced scholars.

The goal of a scholar, Wolff determines, should be to propagate knowledge and science and to develop them, unless this would be contrary to other important duties. This general goal has many subgoals, as it could imply perfecting one’s intellect, but also perfecting one’s will (if we are speaking of the science of morals) or even perfecting arts that serve humankind to reach necessities, commodities and pleasures of life.

Scholars can have different careers, depending on what they are good at (e.g. whether they are used to working with their hands or with mere intellect and how they apply what they know to other things). Whatever their career choice, Wolff explains, a person following a career should especially know the things they work with. If a scholar wants to pursue any career and they haven’t decided yet what it should be, they should choose it depending on their abilities.

An important task for every scholar, Wolff emphasises, is to have a cognitive faculty they can use readily. This implies that they should especially perfect their intellect. Furthermore, their intellect should enable them to discern true from apparent good and have enough understanding of the natural law for cultivating virtue. Because of this assumed expertise, scholars are expected to be more perfect in virtue than ordinary people and to show a good example to others.

Wolff thinks that all scholars should be given as much praise as they merit. Then again, no scholar has a right for praise, if they do not merit it. Thus, they have no right to complain, when they are not praised in this case. Wolff also insists that no scholar should envy another for being praised, even if the other person does not really merit it: we are allowed to praise anyone we want, provided this is not done contemptuously.

According to Wolff, scholars have the right to defend their own fame or fame of others against those who challenge it. Then again, they are not allowed to contend for their fame by showing contempt toward others. Similarly, scholars are not allowed to gain favour of their countrymen by deriding other nations, or vice versa, to gain favour of foreigners by deriding their own country.

Scholars of second and primary order, Wolff continues, have as their special duty to raise disciplines of science to such a grade of certainty that they can and to distinguish truth in these disciplines from falsehoods. Then again, they should not undertake judgement of such things, which they have not endeavoured to know so meticulously as things, in which they excel. Thus, they should not attempt to reach greater certitude in things, which they are not yet adequately acquainted with.

Who is able to correct or refute errors committed by others has the right to do this, Wolff thinks. Then again, scholars of lowest order are not able to do this and have therefore no right to refute others and even less to correct errors. Wolff notes there are two methods of refuting people. In direct refutation, one is to demonstrate propositions as true what the other thinks is false or to show the manner in which the other falls into error. In indirect refutation, one is to assume as true what the other asserts and then infer from it propositions that the other acknowledges as false. Refutation should also not contain any scorn or arguments conducted out of hate.

In Wolff’s opinion, freedom to philosophise belongs to scholarship. Indeed, he thinks that everyone is permitted to propose their opinion on philosophical matters and also are to be permitted to publicly say their opinion on them. Thus, no one should be forced to defend an opinion that they hold to be untrue. Hence, although scholars have a right to defend truth against assailants, this truth cannot and shouldn’t be defended with external force.