Yale University Library 39002031970156 YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Healy Memorial Library 1974 NOW BEING PUBLISHED. philosophical Classics FOR English IReabets. lijuruii isv WILLIAM KNlCilT, LL.I)., Pi-oft'Sim- of Moral I'liilo.snphy, University of SI Au.hcws. In crown Svo, cloth bodrr/s, loilh J'ortmiU, pric .''.v. <>r/. nn-h. THE success which attended tlie experiment of iutro- ducing the Greek and Roman Classics to English readers, confirmed the Publishers in their original inten tion of undertaking a similar series, devoted to Foreign European Classics. In now announcing the. extension of their scheme to another Series, dealing with the ehiet Philosophical writers of modem Europe, from Bacon and Descartes onwards, the Publishers foci certain that they are filling up a blank in popular literature. A growing interest in Philosophy, arising out of the diffusion of Learning and the progress of Science, is one of the marked features of the present age. The aim of this Third Scries will be to tell tlie general reader — who cannot possibly peruse the entire works of the Philosophers — who the founders of the chief systems were, and how they dealt with the great questions 'of the Uni verse ; to give an outline of their lives and characters ; to show how the systems were connected with the individual ities of the writers, how they received the problem of Phil osophy from their predecessors, with what additions they handed it on to their successors, and what th.-v thus con tributed to the increasing purpose of the world's ihnn-'ht and its organic development; as well as to illustrate the questions that engrossed them in the light of eoniemporury diseussion. The Scrips will thus unfold the History of Modem Philo sophy under the light cast upon it by the labours of the chief system-budders. In each work it will be the aim of the writers to translate the discussion out of the dialect of the Schools, which is often too technical, and which presup poses the knowledge of a special vocabulary, into the lan guage, of ordinary life. If . the philosophical achievements ot such writers as Descartes, Spinoza, Bacon, Hobbes, Locke, Led.mz, Lutler, Berkeley, Hume, Stewart, Kant Jnhte, Kegel, Cousin, Comte, and Hamilton (not to retcr to o her names), were thus recorded,— and the discus sion popularised without being dilutee1, -it is believed that i'o, n* ,W°"ld 1'°r"1 a a™iu] ass'st-inofi to the student of 1 lulo.sophy, and be of much value to the general reader The Volumes in this Series now published are:— DESCARTES. By Professor J. P. Mahai-fy, Dublin. s.iUtWh.^nVn'''^^',*" 1he,OTi!p",al S0,,rces> aild while independently a fe wV , T 'lTe (mI;hull"g °'° ™">^ <"' l«t-r researches . l-maii^an^v^^ " I in- hie ,s excelleully (old. The el-ar and bn'eht style of the Pro- BUTLER. By the Rev. W. Lucas Collins, Jl.A. " Is eonspicuoit.ly able and interesting, and will, no doubt, hold a permanent place m philosophical lit.craluic"-J/m/m, Jtrvicic. V,ERKKhKY. By Professor A. Campbell Erased, Edinburgh. t)„'n!d,f')7T Kra,l,,'|,"'i"KS 'V1. ''asu "r <'xl"'c=sioM and a luciditvV thong,,, that, we venture to Ihink. can hardly fail to throw the ~en- •¦ral. scheme n! o:e.!,t-o,,lb-c,.ntnry thought into clearer relief eveiffor the prolesscd student of philosophy, "-.v,,,^,-,^. EICIITE. By Professor Ada.mkox, M.A., Manchester. "It is eharaefe,ised by a mastery of method and a clearness of cyi.risi!:,,,, which lender it a real introduction to the works of the plum, oiilicr. — Aliinni •tin. 'Mhob-ss,,,- Adams,,,, has l;lid I he philosophical public under a dis- mctnbl,-.,!,,,,,, .and i I,,,.,, win. 1,,-ae stmli.,1 1. ritual will know b,sUhe,a!uc,,| h,soo„-,,so and earclolly balanced statements. The 111-, is succinctly and graceluJly told. Mind. List of Volumes published -continued. KANT. By Professor Wallace, Mertoa College, Oxford. "Superior to anything wc have yet, had from an English pen: it is not only rich in facts, but presented in a lively ^^f^'Zl^- Mr Wallace's estimation oi Kant is at once lolly and soou. Academy. HAMILTON. By Professor Veitch, Glasgow. "As an introduction to the study of Sir William "^'^I'VS it is everything that can he desiun V-Kh.u he sp e, n a ha > volume for the pocket he has g.ven a mo. I valuable 1" *, .i.-h will he as acceptable to the thoughtful reader as to the sluduu 01 logic."— ilnrnimj Advertiser. HEGEL. By Professor Edward Onto, Glasgow. " Professor Caird's monograph on Hegel is a nio^ satisfactory piece of work Lire and philosophy are interwoven ill a nios,. Aibm ?andn cresting fashion' in the lirst half of the, bo, c : , . c in t second half the principles and outhncs of the I cgchat, ph. In: - v ate stated with a breadth and perspicuity that pla.c in c at Un 1 t <- reiattons of this way of thinking to all the mam problems oi nioocin life." — Scotsman. LEIBNIZ. By John Theodore Merz. "The position of Leibniz is fairly gauged-his famous views and monads on ptc-cstablislied haimony, on he onm w o „ , .. m reason, and his theological opfiinisn,, can be leauo-d, > t ,u . is win, accmacy and considetable lulncss and clearness m these ].. 0«>. Scotsman, VICO. By rmfessor Flint, D.D., Edinburgh. 'Trofvssor 'Flint has presented the pith of Yi-n's writings with crea clearness and tact He has ndced done his wo„ < , , ,n masterly manner that Vieo can no longer be said to be piac.c.du unknown in Engiand.'-y.Y.ViVi (Jwirtn-l;/ Lectew. HOBBES. Bv Professor (.'room T!oi;eutsox, London. "A model of what work of the kind should be. exact and learned -vet never dull; svmpalhetic. yet pericctly d.-p.^mra, ----.„ a wo 1. a horouUlv appreciative snney of tie lilc and work ot one o the most 'fertile and comprehensive of English th.nkcrs.'W^i/w, Co— tcrly Review. HUME. By the Editor. The ]'o!inii., Glasgow. WILLIAM LLACEWOOn & SON.-, Kni*un:cii am. London. ANCIENT CLASSICS for ENGLISH READERS, Edited et the Rev. W. LUCAS COLLINS, M.A., Honorary Canon of rcTERnoRorort. Complete in 2S vols., price 2s. fiel. each, in clntl, (sold separately); or bound In 11 iols., with calf or vellum back, for £3, 10s. HlOFEl; ¦ Tilt-; IL1AT1. iiomkii : the odyssey. herodotus. xexopiiox. . ErmrniEs. . ARISTOPHANES. . PLATO.LUCtAX. .ESOHYLITS. SOPHOCLES. IIEStOD AND THEOCNIS. CHEEK ANTHOLOGY. VtRClL. . HORACE. JUVENAL PLAUTUS AND TERENCE. CESAR. TACITUS.CICERO. PLINY'S LETTERS. LIVY. CONTENTS. By the Editor. Ey the Editoi;. By G. C. Swayne, M.A. I)y Sir Ai.f.xaxderGrant, Bart. By Yf. B. Donne. By file Editor. Bv Clifton W. Collins, M.A. Ey the Eoitou. f By Ukoinalp S. Copleston, D.D I (now Bishop of Colombo). . By Clifton W. Collins, M.A. . Bv the Rev. James Da vies, M.A. By Lord Keives. By the Editor. By Sir Theodore Martin. By Edward Walford, JI.A. By the Editor. By Anthony Tilollope. By W. B. Donne. By the Edi tor. /By Rev. Alfrcd Cituroh, M.A Kcv. Yf. J. Brodribb, M.A By the Editor J) E S C A K T E S and OVID By the Rev. A. Church, M.A .'ATULLUS, TIBULLUS, PROPERTIES. DEMOSTHENES. . ARISTOTLE. TilUfYDlDES. LUCRETIUS. PINDAR. AND-) By tlio Itev. James Davies, M.A. . By the Bev. W. J. Brodribb, M.A. /By Sir Alexander Grant, Bart., 'I LL.D. By the Editor. Ey W. II. Mallock. By the Kev. P. D. Monicn, M.A. " II is ilinVnlt to est.oe.ito too highly the value of sncli a series ns this i„ giving 'English readers ' an msndit. exact as far as it, goes, into those olden times which are so n mote an,', yd. to nn.uy of us so close." — SalvrtJay Tlrvirw " We fdrclb avail ourselves of this opportunity to recommend the other volumes of this usebd seiics, mest ot which are executed with discrimination and abilitv." 7,e,/7, rl'i lierinr. WIU.IA.V BLACKWOOD & .SOKS, Edinbuiioii axi. London. THE METHOD, MEDITATIONS, AND SELECTIONS FROM THE PRINCIPLES OF DESCARTES in TRANSLATED FROM TUE ORIGINAL TEXT* i WITH A KEYY INTRODUCTORY ESSAY, HISTORICAL. AXD .CRITICAL I!Y JOHN YE1TCH, LL.T). TROFESSOR OF LOOIC AND RHETORIC IN TUE UXlVEKsiTY OF GLASGOW NINTH EDITION WILLIAM ULACKffOOH AND SONS ED I XL, UK fill AND LUND OX •MDCCCLXXXYII CONTENTS, I'AGU PREFACE, ... .v INTRODUCTION : I. DESCARTES— HIS LIFE AND WRITINGS, . ix II. PHILOSOPHY PRECEDING DESCARTES IN THE . FIFTEENTH AND SIXTEENTH CENTURIES, . XV III. THE COGITO ERGO SUM ITS NATURE AND MEANING, . . . XXI TV, COGITO ERGO SUM OBJECTIONS TO THE PRINCIPLE, . ... xxxiii V. THE GUARANTEE OP THE PRINCIPLE, xl VI. THE CRITERION OF TRUTH, . lv VII. THE EGO AND THE MATERIAL WORLD, . Ixv VIII. INNATE IDEAS, . . jxxv IX. MALEBRANCHE, . lxxvil X. SPINOZA RELATIONS TO DESCARTES, lxxxix XL DEVELOPMENT OF CAPITES I AXtSM IN THE LINE OF STINOZA- — OMNIS DETERYi INA Hi I EST NECATIO, . . oxii XII. HEGELIAN CRITICISM — THE EGO AND THE INFINITE, . exxxiv A VI I'KEEACE. The Meditations are translated in whole The Preface and the First Part of the Principles are given, along with selections from the Second, Third and Fourth Parts of the same work. The extracts Jroiii the .Principles correspond to what is found in the edition of Gamier. An Appendix is added containing the author's Demonstrations of the Existence of Deity, as these are put by him in their strictest form. The Notes at the end of the volume may be found useful in explanation of certain terms which are of frequent occurrence and important bearing in the writings of Descartes. The Meditations and the Principles were origin ally written in Latin, the former in 1641, "the latter in 1644. As both works were translated into Drench during the author's lifetime, and re vised by himself, the French text may be con sidered as at least of equal authority with the ' other. While, therefore, the Latin or original text is that from which the present translation is made, the additions and variations of the French are also given— the former in the* text in square brackets, tlie latter in footnotes. The French translation of the Meditations was made by the Due de Luynos, and was first published in 1647; that of the Principles, which appeared in the same year, was made by Picot. Previously to the present translations, the Method had appeared in English — London, 1649, There was also an English version of the Meditations, by W. Molyneux— London, 1680. These are now rarel}- to be met with. rilEFACE. \'ti The translator has substituted for the Intro duction originally prefixed to the Method a longer and fuller discussion on tlie Philosophy of Des cartes, especially with reference to its mam his torical developments. The Loaning, Peebles, September 1879. INTRODUCTION. I. DESCARTES — HIS LIFE AND WRITINGS. ffiiE life of Descartes is best n>ad in Ins v/ninigs • ^especially in that choice and pleasing h'agnn?.;. o t J mental autobiography, the Dlscurs dr, a "'<'¦' •»<<;¦ But it is desirable to give the lc...dmS facts and dau.s of a career as unostentatious and barren ol current ami popular interest, as it was significant and event lul fur the future of modern thought Rene Descartes was bom on the 31st i-larelx I.k'O. His birthplace was La Ilaye, a small town m Urn pro vince of Touraine, now the department of the Indre et Loire. His family, on both sides, belonged to the landed gentry of the province of Pulton, and was o old standing Tho ancestral estates lay in tlie neighbour hood ofchatellerauh, in the plain water -A by the . icune. as it flows northward, amid fields fertile in com ana vines, to the Loire. The manor, called Lcs Cartes, juiii which the family derived its name, is about a league from La Haye. It is now embraced m th., commune ol Ormes-Saint-Martin, in the department of \ienne. wlucfi represents the old province of Poitou. ^ The mother of the philosopher was Jeanne Li-mard, and his father was Joachim Descartes, a lawyer by pro fession, and a counsellor in the Parliament or Lreiagne. This assembly was held in the to>w. of benne,, tne ..;l. capital of the nrovince, and there tlm family u,uaa% INTRODUCTION. times nfar'b rrl in i Seigneur du Perron, some- a s mall ,s Y?10' Came t0 him from inherits followed tSh 1USrm°ther- His Cldei' brotl1- , ven tllG others profession, and became in 1,1= gen^mL31: Cth eL?rrlPL°f *" 4"^ &5i Sf V7!*0 % family *at his brotl- S of tl S ' 1 + ^ THS eMer brother wa* the i i°nl to r'er ;' ^ * ^^ S° that * » usiako to cpresont Descartes as a Breton: He was >cally descended from Poitou ancestry. rece^lvw/1\t!;%aS'G-0f ^ lle TOS sent to the S£t*d Jeswt C°"ege of La Fleche. The He ™,tf tJ e,rlacVVei;e 0f tIle usual scholastic type. to nSe w- CSG|rbUt 6 S™ to have taken chieV to mathenia 1Cs. Here he remained eight years, leaw mg die college m 1612. After a stay in Par s of four years, the greater part of the time beiU pent m seclusion and auiet UnA,, ^ +i ? P one 1,p ™+„ 7 q stud3> at the age of twentv- Maurice 0 V ^Yr' r™8' the ^P" of ?»™ Xn'l ,SSan ? H°Uand- He afterwards took ™in F tllG DukG f Bavaria- the» niade a cam- IlTf m+.I1I"nffM7 ™der the Count de Bucquov H nsatoble desire of seeing men and the w'or d,' vmch had been the prmoipal motive for his joining the army, now urged him to travel. Moravia, Silesia 1 vSId f ^ ^.H<*^ -nd FrieslanJ were all visited by him at this time. Somewhat later, in 1623, he set cut from Paris for Italy, traversed the Alps and visited the Orisons, the Valteine, the Tyrol and then went by Innsbruck to Venice andEome. In he wmter of 1619-20, when, after close thinkin. me fundamental pomt in his philosophy dawned on vowe t " *m™iabl° ^eam, and thereupon he vowed to make a pilgrimage to Lorotto. There can be INTRODUCTION. XI little doubt that he actually fulfilled his vow on the occa sion of this visit to Italy, walking on foot from Venice to Loretto. He finally settled to the reflective work of his life in 1629, at the ago of thirty-three, choosing • Amsterdam for his residence. Holland was then the land of freedom— civil and literary— and this no doubt influenced his decision. But he also, as he tells us, preferred the cooler atmosphere of the Low Lands to the heat of Italy and France. In the former he could think with cool head, in the latter he could only produce phantasies of the brain. Here, professing and acting on the principle, Bene vixit bene qui latuit, he meditated and wrote for twenty years, with a patience, force, and fruitfulncss of genius whirh has been seldom equalled in the history of the world. His works appeared in the following order: Disarms de la Meilwde pour Men conduire sa reason, et chercher la verite dans les sciences; plus la Dioptrique, les Miteores et la Geometrie, qui sent des JSssais da cctte Metlwde. Leyden: 1637. This was published anonymously. Btienne de Courcelles translated the Method, Dioptrics, and Meteors into Latin. This was revised by Descartes. and published at Amsterdam in 16-14. The Geometry was translated into Latin, with commentary, by Francis von Schooten, and published at Leyden, 1649. The Meditations were first published in Paris in 1641. The title was Meditationes de prima Philosopliia, in qua Dei existentia et animce immortalilas demonstrantur. In the second-edition, published under the snperint, -udenee of the author himself at Amsterdam in 1642, the title was as follows : Renali Descartes Meditationes de prima I'/iilo- sophia, in quibus Dei existentia et animce- a corpnrc dis- tinctio demonstrantur. His adjunctce sunt variav. oljecfimics doctorum virorum ad istas de Deo el animce denwnstrj. tiones cum responsionibus ouctoris. The Meditation, were translated into French by the Due de Luyncs in 1617. The Principia Philose-plJcc appeared at Amster dam in 1 614. The Abbe Picot translated it into French, xii INTEODUCTION. ^ AmSam in 1 £'? *' Pauioat d& ?i™ aPP^ **** the d^De^e * ffit ,?* * ^ method, two Scetes hi [""I ed),°U tJ,° basis °f a »™ tiiiniic'in0, 7 if1!?1'*0 a,most ™^wn and of npplicatin,,1 A b l~t' ' !Wnat,,0al Pll^CS »»(1 the - o;:,^;1';:;^:;;^;10 f^r-? ^- ^ ^^-^ -.rued ex^e,;ln Pet^lLi riS l^" !% °f Phil^P^l A-totie, had pLibhS Dia;:c;-col;?ris3?tst was the Disrours dc. la MctkodTS^ Fench/ but it tn.ly revealed (he "wf Descartes which first force of his native la in ' P,TS1°"' and natural The use oo of a\ S '? m PhlIosoP^al literature. the'dtf^^ai d a, ™eSt t^ t."' rT^ ^ moot of modern thought 16 &St gr6at movB- ^onderhd for ,s compyebensilesf PaYnot^ -bled ,,j- CleUieJv ^ 1 f7 ^r^l ^'^clalunnerc, I'!'-7; 3 vols. /,¦.-„„,;/ • -'„ , o Z^& /te<* -D«c«rto-Paris ^'--AmstcnC, £01 OoS :/""'"'" ^'™ C' '-«- of tho ivories of Jtockrfc, 11 11 e"T?, ," COm]llete edition hns an edition of the ttW j£ „,' , f-°m 1S24 to 182G- Gamier 1?35 Kor those ana ouTl .ifo^ &£t ^s Vt™3-1'8™' and Uouillier, ///,^v, ,/, /u w , ' , ' Clcta,ls' see GamieiV I- SO, INTRODUCTION. xm spoken boldness which ho are accustomed to associate with great reformers. IHe was not one, indeed,^ who cared to encounter the powerful opposition of the Church, to which by education he belonged. This is obvious from many things in his writings. He avoided ;r as far as possible, the appearance of an innovator, whilo he was so in the truest sense of the word. When he attacked an old dogma, it was not by a daring march up to the face of it, but rather by a quiet process of napping the foundations. Ho got rid also of 1 radii tonal principles net so much by direct attack as by substi tuting for them new proofs and grounds of reasoning;, and thus silently ignoring them. One little incident of his life shows at once the char acter of the man and of the times in winch he lived. and the difficulties peculiar to the position of an ongmal thinker in those days. He had completed the manu script of a treatise '.De Mundo, and was about to send it to his old college friend Merscnno in Paris, with a view to arrange for its printing. In it he had main tained the doctrine of the motion of the earth. Mean while (November 1633) he heard of the censure and condemnation of Galileo. This led him not only to stay tho publication of the book, but even to talk of burning the manuscript, which he seems to have done in part, Descartes might no doubt have taken gener ally o, more pronounced course in the statement of his /-opinions; but, looking to the jealous antagonism be tween the modern spirit represented by philo.-ophy and literature on the one hand, and the old represented by theology on the other, during the inunediaroiy preced ing period of the Renaissance and in his own time, it is "doubtful whether such a line of action would have been equally successful in gaining acceptance, for his new views, and promoting the interests ol truth. An original thinker, with the recent fates of banms. Bruno, and Vanini before his eyes, to say nothing; of the loath some dungeon of Campanella, may be excused tor bourn somewhat ovcr-nmdont a+ , ¦ . in these days to cas s Lef J •**"' 't h n0t hr ™ and ciinuttLsta.ee? J Z!et ^ °f ^ 6hmotor «'«. -heiher it i mpj "ni ' . n°al Hi^f^ °f °Pin" » quite as much a pas so re r I V" ^-T °V n0t> of r,co,u , „ // Plls'sP01t t0 reputation with one sot, of people as the most pronounced orthodoxy is with university there With +],„ «l x . CTO1 ot tJK> tl,a, f IV , ° cnavnctenstic blindness of sador o France, with the help of the Prince of Or nl topped tho proceedings. Descartes is Trot tlm onlv " tniUis n diT T Ut inStTe> * ^ ™ ^ & h'Sn then ^ ^ ^ ^'^ *» ^ Queen Christina of Sweden, daughter of tho o-reat G tavus AcMnlms, had cnmo under ^ . 8^at vi itmgs of Descartes. She began a coircspondnnce vith II;1 1',7, "-'roinls, and linally ^i,^ 10 l. ui. xvi INTRODUCTION. ^^^J^-^fP^^ of authority had ance, intcl Wd a - °kstlc]sm- Du™g its continu ed ^^t:i;:zrjTnei f° mtwdki^ mind by the Church 4ni T,™ flu™sh^to the of T-slioniiug ^ ti^^f Val ^Pher thought 1'0 fonnd if plnlosop "dp ?j C ''^""'V °8',M' 0von wll°« Sliest court of i T on,"1^>(<^'"blo. The «-,?« Aristo , ¦ , ' I,w"l,h'.^i Woal in scholasticism l-Idloso, - \aim iVCM7d !"tei'P-tations of •< the sanctioned by' < \rT°7 Tl^ wiLh Ui0 'lo6»™ and an ho i - ,, ' I iiml t,,l'rofl™ wi«' ^ <™dit. the Arabic and Plela y Tl ^i"*8^ ™^ from ^-heempM Arisfotle o !r La - d th ^ 1 i" °rieinala °f 8'uage in ^Vesfer ^, ^ ^^t i^ V'6 ??* 1™" acrp.ired at fh-t h-,,,1 V , know3c^o thus disputed , d : ' iT'TT* ^G2-U2i orl526) ¦'Hid the Churc IT V I""'0110 °f the Scil°o1 divided into S :;,K "To'V110 Al'!Stotelia- -ere intcrprete.s and P A/°™Bts or traditional Alex mi o, of Anl r OT;W'S °f th0 Commentator," thol t" 1* "' ± T *?mP™ti™ was the head if as tl h , ;; • Pr 'I8"1 ^P^S his authority v, t ' P°nSt'"S flcniecl that the Aristotle A rsiot I- aCCCPted was the tr«e one The real i tie, according to his view, jeniod a ..^ , | Sir f7rffto soul,anci a ^^"i I ,' °Vns h° f'^nnos put it, Aristotle did ; c :,id,]e(d,,„a,n.tyeretl,ereforeinContnid4,io,, , ¦ i ! ' ¦lll'"ut discussmn,— the openino- of men's rumd6 to the deepest questions, -the bo^-Tin INTRODUCTION. XV11 a word, of free thought. And there was also the practical result, that the fifteenth-century philosopher denied what he as a Churchman professed to believe, or rather did not dare to disavow. It was obvious that tho course of thinking could not rest here. It must pass beyond this, urged alike by fhe demands of reason and tho interests of conscience. Put tho inner spirit of scholasticism had pretty well worked itself out. It was a body ol thought, remark able for its order and symmetry, well knit, and squared. solid and massive, like a mediawal fori i ess. Put it was inadequate as a representation and expression of the bee life that was working i:i the literature, and oven in the outside nascent philosophy, of the lime. 11 Mas formed for conservation and defence, not for progress New weapons were being forged which must inevitably prevail against it, just as the discovery of gunpowder had been quietly superseding the heavy panoply of the knight. Several thoughtful men were already dis satisfied alike with the Aristotle of the Schoolmen and tho manuscripts. Opportunely enough, the circum stances which led to tho discovery of the original Aris totle led also to the revelation of the origin;;! Plato. Some thinkers fell back on tho earlier philosopher. stimulated to enthusiasm by fhe elevation of his tran scendent dialectic. Notably among these were Plctho (born about 1390, and dead about 1490) ; his pupil. Bessarion (1395 or 1389-1472); Giovanni Pico delta Mirandola (tho nephew of Francisco, born 1463, died 1494); Fioiuo, tutor to Lorenzo de Viedioi (Tl.">,">-1499) : Patri/.i (1 a'29-1597). Influenced a good deal by tho spirit of mediawal mysticism, these thinkers for the most part clothed their Plato in the garb of Plotinus and the Neo-1'latonists. Others were led to (in- still earlier Greek philosophers. Tho newly - awakened spirit of experience in Telesio (1 oOS - 1 ,lStV) and in Itrigard, (1578-1667) found tilling nourishment in the h.'d,in physicists ; and, later in the same hue, Gassendi (] 59-'- X.V111 INTRODUCTION. IGoo) revived Epicurus. All this implied the indi vidual right of selecting the authority entitled to credence, ana was a protest against scholasticism, and a step towards free 'inquiry. The men of letters also helped to swell the tide rising strong against scholasticism. The abstract and often barbarous language of the Schools appeared taste less and repulsive alongside the rhythmic diction of Ucero, and the polished antitheses of Seneca. The spirit of imagmation and literary grace had been re pressed to the utmost in the Schools. It now asserted itself with the intensify peculiar to a strong reaction. And m the knowledge and study of the forms of the classical languages, the mind 'is far beyond the sphere ot mere deduction. It is but one remove from tho activity of thought itself. Mysticism, always operative in the middle ages, and indeed involved in the Neo-Platonism already spoken of, came to its height in tho period of the Eenaissance ?7^,Glf]? Under Paracelsus (H93-1541) and Cardan (U01-1576),— and then under Boclrm (1575-1624) and the Van Helmonts (father, 1577-1644, and son, 1618- 1699). The principle of transcendent vision by in tuition was in direct antagonism with the reasoned authority of scholasticism. Boehm's philosophy on its speculative side was an absolutism which anticipated bchelhng, and Hegel himself. The self-diremption of consciousness is Boehm's favourite and fundamental point. The superstition which lay at tho heart of the mysticism of the time, and which showed itself practi cally in alchemy, led men by the way of experiment to natural science, especially chemistry. At length in the sixteenth century, and, as if to show the extreme force of reaction, in Italy itself before the throne of the. Popo and the power of the Inquisition, there arose in succession Bruno (b. about 1550, d. 1600),' Vanini (lie t or 85 — 1619), and Campanella (1568-1639); —all deeply inspired by the spirit of revolt against au- INTRODUCTION. XIX thority, and a freedom of thought that reached even a fantastic licence. Bruno in tho spirit of the Eleatics and Plotinus, proclaimed the absolute unity of all things in the indeterminable substance, which is God ; Vanini car ried empiricism to atheism and materialism ; and Cam panella united the extremes of high churchman and sensationalist, mystical metaphysician and astrologist. The thoughts of this period, from the fifteenth to well on in the sixteenth century, have been described as " the upturnings of a volcano." The, time was indeed the vol canic epoch in European thought. Tlie principal figures we can discern in it seem to move, amid smoke and tur moil, aud to pass away in flame. The tragic fate of Bruno in the fire at Eome, and that of Vanini iu the fire at Toulouse — both done to death at the instance of the vulgar unintelligence of the Catholicism of the time — form two of the darkest and coarsest crimes ever perpe trated in the name of a Church. The Church, which claim s to represent the truth of God, dare not touch with a viler] f hand speculative opinion. It is then false to itself. In France, and in the university of Paris, the strong hold of Pcripateticism, Eamus (1515-1572) attacked Aristotle in the most violent manner. In Eamus was concentred the spirit of philosophical and literal'}' an tagonism to the Schoolmen. It was wholly unmodified by judgment or discrimination, and it did not proceed on a thorough or even adequate acquaintance with the object of its assault. Eamus is remarkable chiefly for the extreme freedom which he assorted in oratoriealiy denouncing what he considered to be the. principles of Aristotle; but he made no real advance either in the principles of logical method which he professed, or in philosophy itself. At the same time, the rude intensity and the passionate earnestness of his life were not un worthily sealed by his bloody death on the Eve of St Bartholomew. The death of Eanms, though attributed directly to personal enmity, was ready a blow struck alike at Protestantism and the freedom of modern thought. B XX INTRODUCTION. Brunc, Vanini, Campanella, and Eamus foreshadowed Descartes and the modern spirit, only in tho emphatic assertion of the freedom, individuality, and supremacy of thought. What in thought is firm, assured, and uni versal, they have not pointed out. They were actuated mainly by an implicit sense of inadequacy in the current principles and doctrines of the time. It was not given to any of them to find a now and strong foundation whereon to build with clear, consistent, and reasonable evidence. Campanella said of himself not inaptly : "I am but the bell (a impanel 'la) which sounds tho hour of a new dawn." Alongside of those more purely speculative tenden cies, Copernicus, Kepler, Galileo, and Bacon represented tho new spirit and theory of observation applied to nature. The formalism of the Schools had abstracted almost entirely from the natural world. It was a "dream land of intellcctuab'sm." And now there came an in tense reaction, out of which has arisen modern science. Bacon had given to the world the Novum Organum in 1620, seventeen years before the Method of Descartes, but his precept was as yet only slightly felt, and he had but little in common with Descartes, except an appeal to reality on a different side from that of the Continental philosopher. Descartes had not seen the Organvm previously to his thinking out the Method. He makes but three or four references to Bacon in all his writings. If to these influences we add the spirit of religious reformation, the debates regarding the relative author ity of the Scriptures and tho Church, and mainly as a consequence of the chaos and conflict of thought, in the age, the course of philosophical scepticism initiated by Cornelius Agn'ppa (1186-1535), and made fashion able especially by Montague (1533-1592), and continued by Charron (1511-1603), with its self-satisfied world - Imess and its low and conventional ethic, wo shall understand the age in which the youth of Descartes INTRODUCTION. XXI was passed, and tho influences under which ho was led to speculation. "We shall be able especially to see bow ho, a man of penetrating and comprehensive intelli gence, yet with a strong conservative instinct for what was elevating in morals and theology, was led to seek for an ultimate ground of certainty, if that were possible, not in tradition or dogma- of philosopher or churchman, but in what commended itself to him as self-verifying and therefore ultimato in knowledge — in other words, a limit to doubt, a criterion of cci tainty, and a point of departure for a constructive philosophy. III. THE COGITO HUGO SUM — ITS NATUl'.E AND JIEAMMl. The man in modern times, or indeed in any time, who first based philosophy on consciousness, and sketched a philosophical method within the. limits of consciousness. was Descartes ; and since his time, during- these two hundred and fifty years, no one has shown a more accu rate view of the ultimate problem of philosophv, or of the conditions under which it must be dealt with. The question with him is — Is there an ultimate in knowledge which can guarantee itself to me as true and certain ? and, consequently upon this, can I obtain as it were from this — supposing it found — a criterion of truth and certainty? In the settlement of those questions, the organon of Descartes is doubt. This with him means an exam ination by reflection of the facts and possibilities of consciousness. Of what and how far can I doubt? I can doubt, Descartes would say. whether it be true, as my senses testify or seem to testify, that a material world really exists. I am not. here by any neces sity of thought shut wilhin belief. I can dot even says, of mathematical truths — at least the evidence is not directly present to my niin what point then do I find that a reflective, doul bt, he \t XX11 INTRODUCTION. limits to itself? This limit he finds in self-conscious ness, implying or being self-existence. It will be found that this method makes the least possible postulate or assumption. It starts simply from the fact of a conscious questioning ; it proceeds to exhaust the sphere of the doubtable ; and it reaches that truth or principle which is its own guarantee. If we cannot find a principle or principles of this sort in knowledge, within the limits of consciousness, we shall not be able to find either ultimate truth or principle at all. Philosophy is im possible. But the process must be accurately observed. There is the consciousness — that is, this or that act or state of consciousness — even when I doubt. This cannot be sublated, except by another act of consciousness. To doubt whether there is consciousness at a given moment, is to be conscious of the doubt in that given moment ; to believe that the testimony of consciousness at a given time is false, is still to be conscious — con scious of the belief. This, therefore, a definite act of consciousness, is the necessary implicate of any act of knowledge. The impossibility of the sublation of the act of consciousness, consistently with the reality of knowledge at all, is the first and fundamental point of Descartes. This it is very important to note, for every other point in his philosophy that is at all legitimately established depends on this : and particularly the fact of tho " I " or self of consciousness. The reality of the " I " or " Ego " of Descartes is inseparably bound up with tho fact of the definite act of consciousness. But, be it observed, he docs not, prove or deduce the "Ego" from the act of consciousness ; he finds it or realises it as a matter of fact in and along with this act. Tho act and the Ego are the two inseparable factors of tho same fact or experience in a definite time. But as tho consciousness is absolutely superior to sublation, so is that which is its essential clement or co-factor — in of her words, the whole fact of experience — the con- INTRODUCTION. XX1U soious act and the conscious "I" or actor are placed on the same level of tho absolutely indubitable. By "I think" or by "thinking" Descartes thus does not mean thought or consciousness in the abstracb It is not oogitatio ergo ens, or entitas, but cogito ergo sum ; that is, tho concrete fact of me thinking. That this is so, can be established from numerous statements. " Under thought I embrace all that which is in us, so that wc are immediately conscious of it."1 "A thing which thinks is a thing which doubts, understands, [conceives,] affirms, denies, which wills, refuses, imagines also, and perceives."2 Here thinking is as wide as conscious ness ; but it is not consciousness in tho abstract ; it is consciousness viewed in each of its actual or definite forms. From this it follows that the principle does not tell us what consciousness is ; it knows nothing of an abstract consciousness, far less of a point above con sciousness ; but it is the knowledge and assertion of consciousness in one or other of its modes — or rather it is an expression of consciousness only as I have experi ence of it — in this or that definite form. Arnauld and Mersenne in their criticism of Descartes were the first to point out the resemblance of the ccgito ergo sum to statements of St Augustin. Descartes him self had not previously been aware of these. The truth is, he belonged to the school of the non-reading philoso phers. Ho cared very little for what had been thought or said before him. The passage from Augustin which has been referred to as closest to the statement of Descartes is from the De Oivitale Dei, 1. xi., c. 26. It closes as follows : " Sine ulla phantasiarum vol phan- tasmatura imaginatione ludificatoria, mihi esse me, idquo nosso et amaro ccrtlssimum est. Nulla in his veris Acadcmicorirm argumenta, formido dicentinm : Quid, si falleris? Si enim fa 11 or, sum. Nam qui non est, utique neo falli potest : ac per hoc. sum, si tailor. Quia, ergo 1 Deltnilimirs, Jiey). ml Sec. Qhj., )>. 8,1 (1070). ' Meditations, il. \: 11)9. xxiv INTRODUCTION. sum, qui fallor, quoinodo esse me fallor, quando certum est me esse si fallor"?1 On this passage Descartes himself very properly remarks, that while the principle may be identical with his own, the consequoncos which he deduces from it, and its position as tho ground of a philosophical system, make tho characteristic differ ence between Augustin and himself. The specialty of Descartes is that ho roachod this principlo of self-con sciousness as tho last limit of doubt, and made it then tho starting-point, of his system. There is all the differ ence in his case, between flic man who by chance stum bles on a fact, find leaves it isolatod as ho found it, and the man who reaches it by method — and, with a full consciousness of its importance, dovclops it through tho ramifications of a philosophical system. To him the fact when found is a significant truth as the limit of restless thought ; it is not less significant and impulsive as a new point of departure in the line of higher truth. But wdiat precisely is the relation between the cogito and the sum ? Is it, first of all, a syllogistic or an im mediate inference? Is the cogito ergo sum an enthy- meme or a proposition? There can be no doubt that Descartes himself re garded it as a form of propositiou, an intuition, not a syllogism. In reply to Gassendi,2 who objected that cogito ergo sum implies qui cogitat, est,— a, pre-judgment, — Descartes says : " The term pre-judgment is here abused. Pro-judgment thcro is none, when the cogito ergo sum is duly considered, because it then appears so evident to the mind that it cannot keep itself from be lieving it, the moment even it begins to think of it. But tho principal mistake here is this, that the objector supposes that the cognition of particular propositions is always deduced from univorsals, according to tho order of tho syllogisms of logic. Ho thus shows that he is ignorant of tho way in which truth is to be sought. For 1 Tom us yi. Bened. cd., Jligne, p. 330. - Oljectiones QniiiLc, p. 113 (1670). INTRODUCTION. XX.V it is settled among philosophers, that in order to find it a beginning must always be made from particular notions. that afterwards the universal may bo reached ; although also reciprocally, univorsals being found, other particu lars may thence be deduced." Again he says : "When we apprehend that we are thinking- things, this is a first notion which is not drawn from any syllogism ; and when some ono says, I think, hence I am, or ./ e.vist, he does not conclude his existence from his thought as by force of some syllogism, but as a thing known of itself; ho socs it by a^ simplo intuition of fhe mind, as appears from this, that if he deduced it from a syllogism, he. ¦ must beforehand have known this major, All that which thinks is or exists. Whereas, on the contrary, Ibis is rather taught him, from the fact that he experiences in himself that it cannot be that he thinks if he does not exist. For it is the property of our mind to form gen eral propositions from the knowledge of particulars." x This is a clear statement of the non-syllogistic nature of the principle, and a distinct assertion of its intuitive character. It also points to the guarantee of tho prin ciple—the experiment of not being .able to suppose con- , soiousness apart from existence — or unless as implying it. This and other passages might have saved both Eeid and Kant from the mistake of supposing that Descartes in ferred self-existence from self-consciousness syllogisti- cally or through a major.2 It is said that in the Principles Descartes represents the cogito ergo sum as the conclusion of a reasoning ; tho major premiss being that " to nothing no affections or qualities belong." "Accordingly where we observe certain affections, there a thing or substance to which thoso pertain, is necessarily found."3 Again, " sub- 1 Mcditntio de Prima Philosnphin. he?,), ad See. O,'-/,, I tones, p. 74 (Oct 1670). This rci'erenee was given in tlie lirst eilili,',, of the tiaus- lation of tho Method, 1R50. Introduction, p. xxii. 2 Krili/c, Ilartcnsteiii, p. ttli'.l. Ueid, Jii^utri/, p. 100 ( Hamilton's Edition). 3 Part I., s. 11. Compare s. 62. XXVI INTRODUCTION. tl° ° b6 fif diTVered mere1^ from ^ being ItscF if no 5 6X1Sti , ndePenden%> ^ existence by itself is not observed by us. We easily, however, dis cover substance itself from any attribute of it, by this common notion, that of nothing there are no at Xte properties, or qualities." It seems to me that there is to st^V StfemCntrs> when carefully considered, to justify this assertion. _ In fact, the second statement that substance or being ls not cognisable per se, disposes ol any apparent ground for tho syllogistic character of the inference. 1 or this implies that the so-called major, as by itself mcogmsablc, is not a major at all. What Descartes points to hero, and very properly, is tho ori ginal synthesis of the relation of quality and substance. what rUm°i ni0t-°n i iB the reflective ™? of s^ing wlrat is involved m the original primitive intuition ; and is as much based on this intuition, as this intui tion implies it. He here approximates very nearly to a distinct statement of the important doctrine that in regard to fundamental principles of knowing, the par ticular and the universal are from the first implicitly given and only wait philosophical analysis to briri them to light. 6 But misrepresentation of the true nature of the cogito ergo sum still continues to be made. "The 'therefore,'" says Professor Huxley,* "has no business there. The 'I am' is assumed in tho 'I think, which is simply another way of saying- 'I am thinking. And, in the second place, 'I think,' is not one simple proposition, but throe distinct assertions rolled into one. The first of these is ' something called I ex*sts,tha second is 'something called thdught exists,' and the third is 'the thought is the result of the action of the 1. lire only one of these propositions which can stand the Cartesian test of certainty is the second. It can not bo doubted, for the very doubt is an existent thought. But tho first and third, whether true or not, 1 Lay Sermons, Descartes, p. 328. INTRODUCTION. Xxvii may be doubted, and have been doubted; for the «<». sartor may be asked, How do you know that thought ib not self-existent, or that a given thought is not the effect of its antecedent thought or of some external power t The "therefore" has business there, as seems to me, until it is shown that immediate inference is no infer ence. The "I am " is not assumed in tho " T think- " but implied in it, and explicitly evolved from it. Then the I think," though capable of being- evolved into a variety of expressions, oven different statements of fact is not dependent on them for its reality or meaning j,,^ they are dependent upon it. There are not throb dis" tinct assertions first, which have been rolled into one On the contrary, the meaning and possibility of any assertion whatever are supplied by the "I think" it- self Something called I exists," is not known to me before I am conscious, but onlv as I am con scious It 18 not a distinct proposition. "Something- called thought exists," is not any more a distinct pro position, for tho thought which exists is inscparablv iny thought, and my thought is more than the mere ab straction "thought." " The thought is the result of the ac ion of the I is not a fair statement of the relation between the "I" and thought,** there is no I known first or distinct from thought, to whose action I can ascribe thought Tire thought is me thinking. And the exist ence of thought could never be absolutely indubitable to me, unless it were my thought, for if it be but thouo-ht this is an abstraction with which "I" have and can have no relation " How do you know that thought is not self- existent?" that is, divorced from a me or° thinker : for tins reason simply, that such a thought could never be mine, or aught to me, or my knowledge. Thought, di vorced from me or a thinker, would b3 not so much an absurdity as a nullity. "How do you know that a given thought is not the effect of its antecedent thought ¦ or ot some external power?" Because as yet I h-iye XXVill INTRODUCTION. no knowledge of any antecedent thought, and if I had 1 must know the thought and its antecedent thought hrongh the identity of my consciousness ; and thus re- la to both to the " I," conscious, existing, and identi cal. And as to some external power, I must wait for the proof of it, and if I ever get it, it must be because I am there to think the proof, and distinguish it from myseJi as an external power. And further, this external power can only be known, in so far as I am conscious of it Its known existence depends on my consciousness, as one factor m it, and therefore my consciousness could never lie absolutely caused by it. 'the cngiio ergo sum is thus properly regarded by I lescarfes as a proposition. It is, iu fact, what wo should now call a proposition of immediate inference,— such that the predicate, is necessarily implied in the subject.' Ihe requirements of tho case preclude it from being advanced as a syllogism or mediate inference. For in that case it would not be the first principle of know ledge, or the first stage of certainty after doubt. The first principle would be the major— all that thinks is, or flanking is existing. To begin with, this is to reverse the true order of knowledge ; to suppose that the uni versal is known before the particular. It is to suppose also, erroneously, a purely abstract beginning; for if I am able to say, I am conscious that all thinking is existing, tho guarantee even of this major or universal is the particular affirmation of my being conscious of its truth in a given time ; if I am not able to say this, then I cannot, assert that all or any thinking is exist ing, or indeed assert anything at all. In other words, I can connect no truth with my being conscious. I can not know at all. But what precisely is tho character of tho immediate implication? What is implied? Thoro aro four pos sible meanings of the phrase. 1. My being or existence is tho effect or product of INTRODUCTION. XXIX iny being conscious. My being conscious creates or produces my being. Here my consciousness is first in order of existence. 2. My being conscious implies that I am and was, before and in order to be conscious. 3. My being conscious is the means of my knowing what my existence is, or what it means. Here my consciousness is identical with my existence. My consciousness and my being aro convertible phrases.' 4. My being conscious informs me that. I exist, or through my being conscious I know for the first time that I exist. Hero my being conscious is first in order of knowledge. With regard to tho first of these interpretations, it is obviously not in accordance with the formula.. Implica tion is not production or creation. But, further, it does not interpret the sum in consistency with the cogito. If I am first of all supposed to be conscious, I am supposed to be and to exercise a function or to be modified in a particular form. It could hardly, consistently with this, be said that " I conscious " produce or create myself, seeing that I am alrcad_y in being, and doing. 'This interpretation may be taken as a forecast of the abso lute ego of Fichte, out of which come the ego and the non-ego of consciousness. There is no appearance of this having been tho meaning of Descartes himself. And, indeed, it is not vindicablo on any ground either of experience or reason. With regard to tho second interpretation, nothing- could bo further from tho meaning of Descartes. I am conscious; therefore, I must be before I am con scious, or I must conceive myself to be before I am conscious. Tho inference in this case would be to my existence from my present or actual consciousness, as its ground and prc-requisite, as either before the con sciousness in time, or to bo necessarily conceived by me as grounding tho consciousness. There are passages XXX INTRODUCTION. which seem to countenance this interpretation — e.g., " In order to think, it is necessary to exist." l But in another passage he says, that all that thinks exists can only be known by experimenting in oneself and finding it impossible that one should be conscious unless ho exist.2 This rather points to tho view that tho / am of the formula is simply another aspect of the I am conscious— not really independently preceding it, in timo or in thought, but found inseparable from it in reality, though distinguishable in thought. That my existence, preceded my consciousness, Descartes would bo the last to maintain ; that I was beforo I was con scious, ho would havo scouted as an absurdity. That, another Ego — viz., Deify — might havo boon, even was, he makes a matter of inference from my being, revealed to me even by my being. But existence in the abstract, or existence per se as preceding me in any real sense, either as a power of creation or self-determination — whether in time and thought, or in thought only — he would have probably looked on as the simple vagary of speculation. He was opposed to the absolute ego as a beginning — the starting-point of Fichte — which as above conscious ness is above meaning. He was opposed equally to abstract or qualityless existence as a starting-point, which is that of the Logic of Hegel, whatever attempts may be made to substitute for it a more concrete basis — viz., consciousness. But for the intuitional know ledge of myself revealed in a definite act, it is ob-, viously the doctrine of Descartes, and of truth, that I could not oven propose to myself the question as to whether there is cither knowledge or being; and any universal in knowledge is as yet to me simply mean ingless. With regard to the third interpretation, it seems to mo not to be adequate to tho meaning of Des cartes, or the. requirements of tho case. It oither docs not say so much as Descartes means, or it says 1 Method, p. 31. 2 Seo supra, p. xsv., and infra, p. xliv. INTRODUCTION. XXXI more than it professes to say. If it be intended to say my consciousness means my existence in the proper sense of these words, — /. e., in a purely explicative or logical sense — wo have advanced not one step in the way of assorting my existence. We have but compared two expressions, and said that the one is convertible with the other. But we may do this whe ther tho expressions denote objects of experience or not. This is a mere comparison of notions ; and Des cartes certainly intended not to fiud a simple relation of convertibility between two notions but to reach cer tainty as to a matter of experience or fact — viz., tho reality of my existence. This inferprelal ion, therefore, does not say so much as Descartes intends. But fur ther, if instead of a statement of identity or convert ibility between two notions it says that the one no tion — viz., my being conscious — is found or realised as a fact, this is to go beyond the mere conception of relationship between it and another notion or element, and to allege the reality of my being conscious in the first instance, and secondly, its convertibility with my being. But in that case tho formula of Descartes does not simply say my consciousness means my being. This interpretation might be stated in the form of a hypo thetical proposition. If I am conscious, I am existing. But, Descartes certainly went further than this. He made a direct categorical assertion of my existence. The decision of the question as to what my existence is may be involved in the assertion thai it is, but this is secondary, and, it may be, immediately inferential, but still inferential. We are thus shut up to tho fourth inferpr-talion which, with certain qualifications, is, it seems to me, the true one. My being conscious is the means of revealing my self as existing. In tho order of knowledge, my being conscious is first, ; it is ihc beginning of knowledge, in time and logically. But it is not a single s;ded fact: XXX11 INTRODUCTION. it _w twofold at least. No sooner is the my being con scious realised than the my being is realised. In so far at least as I am conscious, I am. This is an immediate implication. But it should be observed that this docs not impiy either tho absolute identity of my existence with my momentary consciousness, or the convertibility of my existence with that consciousness. For the " I con scious " or my being conscious, is realised by mo only' m a definite moment of time ; and thus if my bobm- were precisely identical and convertible with my being conscious m a. single moment of time, tho permanency ot my being through the conscious moments would be impossible. •' I " should simply be as a gleam of light, winch no sooner appeared than it passed away, and as various as the play of sunshine on the landscape. All, therefore, that can be said, or need be inferred, is that my existence, or the me 1 know myself to be, is revealed m the consciousness of a definite moment; but I am not entitled to say from that alone that the being of me is restricted to that moment, or identified absolutely with tho content of that moment. Nay, I may find that tho identify and continuity of tho momentary ego arc actually implied in the fact that this experience of its existence is not possible except as part of a series of moments or successive states. In this case, there would be added to tho mere existence of the ogo its identity or continued existence through variety or suc cession in time. Thus understood, the cogito ergo sum of Descartes is the true basis of all knowledge and all philosophy. It is a real basis, tho basis of ulti mate fact ; it provides for tho reality of my conscious life as something more than a disconnected series of consciousnesses or a play of words; it, opens up to mo infinite possibilities of knowledge ; tho reality of man and Ciod can now l,e grasped by me in the form of tho permanency ol sell-consciousness. INTRODUCTION. XXX UI IV. COGITO ERGO SUM— OBJECTIONS TO THE PRINCIPLE. It has been objected to the formula of Descartes that it docs not say what the sum or cxisto means ; and further, that existenco per se is a vague, even meaning Jess expression, and that to become a notion at ah existence must be cognised in, or translated into some particular attribute, to which the teim existence adds no further meaning- than the attribute already pos Bosses.1 This twofold objection seems to me 'to be unfounded. When it is said 7 am, it is not meant that I am hide finitely anything, but that I am this or that, at a .nven time. In consciously assorting that I am, I am" con sciously energising in this or that mode. I am knowim- or I am feeling and knowing, or I am knowiim- and will ing. This is a positive form of being. I am iiot called upon to vindicate the reality of existence as an abstract notion or notion per se, or even in its full extension i merely affirm that in being- conscious, I ;im revealed or appear as an existence or being- —a perfectly definite ¦reality, but not all reality-all possible or ituaoinabl- reality, though participating- in a being which is or may be wider than my being. Nor aro tlie attempts that have been made to find the express form of existence, which Descartes is held necessarily to mean, more successful than ng boa, fact of my consciousness, ii. is ,h,H„ u, me, and is no pari, of my existence or Peine;, bee iK 1 Mr MaltU'.v Arnold, and trolr^,,,- |;,lul. '" XXXIV INTRODUCTION. wider than consciousness, — at least if it is to be in any form identical with my being, it must be conscious life, just as it must be conscious walking. But the second suggested interpretation is still worse. "I think, therefore, I am something" (i.e., cither subject or object, I do not know which). Noth ing could bo further from tho meaning of Descartes than this, as is indeed admitted, or from tho truth of tho matter. I am not something, that is, a wholly indefinite. I am as I think mysolf to bo, as I am conscious in this or that dofinito mode, as I foel, apprehend, desire, or will. Being thus definitely con scious, I am not a me.ro indeterminate something. I am something simply because in tho first place I know myself to bo definitely this thing — myself. And as I know myself to be cognisant, I know myself to be definitely the knower, or, if you will, the subject. But the only object necessary to my knowledge m this case is a subject-object, or one of my own passing states. , I require nothing further in the form of a not-self, in order to limit and render clear my self-knowledge. A mere sensation or state of feeling apprehended by me as mine is enough to constitute me a definite something. Besides the alleged vagueness or emptiness of tho term sum in the formula, there is a twofold objection, — one that it is not a real inference ; the other that it is not a real proposition. It seoms odd that it can be supposed possible for tho samo person to object to it on both of theso grounds. It may be criticised as a syllogism, and if may bo criticised as a proposition ; but surely it cannot bo hold to admit of both these characters. If it can bo proved to bo not a real pro position to begin with, it is superfluous to seek to provo it an unreal inference. First, it is interpreted thus'. " I think, therefore 1 am mind, — I am not the opposite of mind, I am a definite or prociso something." It is alleged there is no real inference here, for "tho meaning; INTRODUCTION. XXXV of think contains the meaning of mind." " I think " only contains " mind " if it bo interpreted as meaning consciousness and all its contents— if it means all the acts of consciousness and tho ego of consciousness. In this caso tho " I think, I am mind " would bo no syllo- gistio or mediate inference. But tho statement would neithor be tautological nor useless; it would bo a proposition of immcdialo certainty, in which the subject explicated involved a definito being as another aspect of itself. And this meets tho objection to tho formula, as a proposition. It is said to bo not a real proposition, seeing that tho predicate adds nothing to the subject-. This, in tho first placo, is not tho test of a real pro position, or of what is essential to a proposition. A proposition may be simply analytic, and yet truly a proposition. All that is necessary to constitute a pro position is that it should imply inclusion or exclusion, attribution or non-attribution. When I explicate four into the equivalent of 1 1 1 1, I have not added to the meaning of tho subject, but 1 have identified a whole and its parts by a true prepositional form. I havo analysed no doubt merely, but truly and necessarily, and the result appears in a valid proposition. So start ing from "thinking" in the sense of consciousness, I analyse it also into act and me, and permanent me, and I thus do a very proper and necessary work. Put' I do more, for I assort definitudo of being in the thinking or consciousness,— and this, I hough' inseparable from'' it in reality, is at least distinguishable in thought. This^ constitutes a real predicate, and a very impoioint predicate, which excludes on tho one hand' a mere act or state, mere "thinking" as apart from a self or me, and an absolute mo or self, apart from an act of thought. It excludes, in fact, Ilumo on the one hand, and Fiohto on tho other. But waiving this, it is alleged that to sav "I think,'' is more redundancy, seeing 'that "I" already means "thinking," which is a function, among others," of man. o XXXVI INTRODUCTION. The proposition is therefore merely verbal or analytic. But how do I know that " I " already means " thinking," or that thinking is implied in "I"? By some test or other— by sonic form d experience. And what can this bo but by the "I" being conscious of itself as thinking? And what is this but falling back upon the principle of the cogito ergo sum as tho ultimate in knowledge ? It seems furlhcr to bo imagined that a real inference) could ho got if the formula of Descartes wore inter preted as meaning "I think, therefore I feel, and also will," for experience shows that these facts aro asso ciated. This would give tho formula importanco and validity. Surely thcro is a misconception here of what Descartes aimed at, or ought to have aimed at. Before I can associate experience, "I feel" and "I will" with , "I think," I must have the "I think" in some definite form. This must guarantee itself to me in some way ; that is the question which must be settled first ; that is the question regarding the condition of the knowledge alike of feeling and willing. It was nothing .to the aim of Descartes what was associated in experience ; > he sought the ultimate form, or fact, if you choose, m experience itself, and his principle must be met, not by saying that it only gives certain real inferences through subsequent association and experience, but by a direct challenge of tho guaranteo of tho principle itself— a challenge which indeed is incompatible, with its being the basis of any real inference. To the cogito ergo sum of Descartes it was readily and early objected, that if it identified my being and my consciousness, then I must cither always be con scious, or, if consciousness ceases, I must cease to be. Descartes chose the former alternative, and maintained a continuity of consciousness through waking and sleep ing As a thinking substance, the soul is always coercions. Through feebleness of cerebral impression, it does not always remember. What wonder is it, he INTRODUCTION. XXXV11 asks, that we do not always remember tho thoughts of our sleep or lethargy, when we often do not remember the thoughts of our waking hours? Traces on the brain aro needed, to which tho soul may turn, and it is not wonderful that they are awanting in tho brain of a child or in sleep.1 That tlie soul always thinks, was his thesis; and it was to this point that the polemic of Locke was directed. AVhether consciousness be absolut ely continuous or not — whether suspension of consciousness in timo bo merely apparent, — is a mixed psychological and physiological question. But it is hardly necessary to consider it in this connection ; and Descartes probably went too far in his affirmative statement, and certainly in allowing it as the only counter-alternative. For con sciousness must not bo interpreted in tho narrow sense of the conscious act merely, or of all conscious acts put together. That would be an abstract and artificial interpretation of consciousness. That is but one side of it; and we must take into account the other element through which this conscious act is possible, and which is distinguishable but inseparable from it. This is the "I" or "Ego" itself. When we seek to analyse my being, or my being conscious, we must keep in mind the. coequal reality or necessary implication of self and tho conscious act, and keep hold of all that is embodied in tho asser tion of tho self by itself. This we shall find to be existence in time in this or that definite act or mode, and a continuous and identical existence through till tho varying and successive modes of consciousness in time. Tho variation and succession of the modes of consciousness do not affect this identical reality, and no more need the suspension do, oven though the sus pension of the mode were proved to be absolute, and not simply such a reduction of degree as merely to be bolow memory. In our experience wo find that after at least an apparent absolute suspension of consciousness, the I, 1 lUsp. ad Quint. Ohj., Cariiiur, ii. p. 291. xxxvm INTRODUCTION. or self, on the recovery of consciousness, asserts itself to bo identical with tho I, or self, of the consciousness that preceded the suspension. There is more than a logical or generic identity. It is not that there is an " 1 " in consciousness before the suspension and an " I " also after it; but these are held by us to be one and the samo. The temporary state of unconsciousness is even attributed to this identical "I." It is supposed to havo ] Kissed through if. It is qui to clear, accord ingly, jhat the being of tho "I," or self, is somehow not obliterated by the state of uncoiisciousnoss through which if passes. It is hero that psychology and physiology touch. The, bodily organism, living and sentient, is 'the con dition and instrument of consciousness. Tho tempo rary manifestation of consciousness is dependent on physical conditions. Consciousness may bo said to animate the body ; and the body may be said to permit the manifestation of consciousness. But there is the deeper element of the Ego or self which is the ground of the whole manifestations, however conditioned. Through a non-fulfilment of the physical requirements, these manifestations may be absolutely suspended, or at least they may sink so low in degree, as to appear to be so ; they may subside to such an extent as not to be the matter of subsequent memory ; but the Ego may still survive, potentially if not actually existent ; capable of again manifesting similar acts of conscious ness, continuous and powerful enough to assert its existence and individuality, in varying even conflicting conscious states, and to triumph over the suspension /of consciousness itself. The deductive solution which has been given of this question does not meet the point at issue. It is said that though I am not always conscious of any special act or state, I am yet always conscious : for, except in consciousness, there is no Ego or self, and where there is consciousness there is always an Ego. This INTRODUCTION. XX XIX self, therefore, exists only as it thinks, and it thinks always. To say that the Ego does not exist except in consciousness, and to say that it exists always, is to say either that consciousness always exists, or to say that when consciousness does not exist, the Ego yet exists, which is a simplo contradiction, or to say that consciousness being non-existent, the Kgo neither "exists nor does not exist, which is equally incompatible with its existing always. In fact, tho two statements are irre concilable If tho Ego does not exist except in con sciousness, it can only exist when consciousness exists ; and unless the continued existence of consciousness is guaranteed to us somehow, tho 1'lgo cannot be said to oxist always. If the statement is meant, as a definition of an Ego, the conclusion from it is tolerably evident : in fact, it thus becomes an identical proposition. An Ego means a conscious Ego ; therefore there is no Ego except a conscious one. Still, it does not follow that there is always a conscious Ego, or that an Ego alwavs exists. The existence of tho Ego in time at all is still purely hypothetical, much more its continuous exist ence. Such a definition no more guarantees the reality of tho Ego, than the definition of a triangle calls it into actual existence. But what is the warrant of this definition? Is it a description of the actual Ego of my consciousness? Or is it a formula simply imposed upon actual con sciousness? It cannot be accepted as the former, for the reason that it is a mero begging of the question raised by reflection regarding the character of tho actual Ego of consciousness. The question is— Is it true or not, as a matter of fact, that the Ego which I am and know now or at o. given time survives a suspension of consciousness? It seems at least to do so, and not to be merely an Ego which reappears after the suspension. To define the actual Ego as only a conscious ego is to beg and foreclose the conclusion 'to be discussed! The definition thus assumes the character of a formula xl INTRODUCTION.- imposed, and arbitrarily imposed, upon our actual con sciousness. Let it bo further observed that this doctrine does not even guarantee the continuous identity of tho Ego, through varying successive states of consciousness. It cannot tell mo that tho Ego of a given act of conscious ness is the one identical me of a succeeding act of consciousness. All that it truly implies is that in terms of the definition an Ego is correlative with a consciousness ; but it does not guarantee to me that the Ego of this definite time is the Ego of the second definite time. It might be construed as saying no to this, and implying that logical identity is really all. But it does not, in fact, touch the reality of time at all. This is an abstract definition of an Ego, and a hypo thetical one. The Ego of our actual consciousness may possess an identity of a totally different sort from that contemplated in this definition ; and therefore, as applied to consciousness in time, it either settles nothing, or it begs the point at issue. In fact, it is impossible to dispense with the intui tions of self - existence and continuous self- existence in time, whatever formula wo state. Our existence is greatly wider than consciousness, or than phamomenal reality ; we are and we persist amid the varieties, sus pensions, and depressions of consciousness — a mys terious power of selfhood and unity, which, while it does not transcend itself, transcends at least its own states of being. V. THE GUARANTEE OP THE PRINCIPLE. Now, the question arises, What precisely is the guaran tee of this position, — the cogito ergo sum? It may be said simply individual reflection, individual test, trial, or experiment, on tho processes of knowledge — analytic reflection carried to its utmost limit. But it may be INTRODUCTION. xli urged this is wholly an individual experience, and it cannot ground a general rule or law for all human knowledge, far loss for knowledge in general. It is true that this experiment of Descartes is an individual effort, and all true philosophy is such. This is essential to speculation in any form. The individual thinker must realise each truth as his own and by his own effort. But it is possible for the individual proceed ing by single effort to find, and to unite himself with, universal truth. Thus only, indeed, can he so unite himself. It is the quickened intellect in living- quest which makes tho conquest. Doctrine held in any other way, even when it is truth, is a sapless verbalism. Now, what is tho law or ground of fhe con viction that my being conscious is impossible unless as lam? Simply the principles of identity and non-con tradiction, evidencing themselves in a definite form and application — asserting their strength, but as yet to Descartes only in a hidden way — implicitly, not ex plicitly. My being conscious is my being — my being for the moment. If I try to think my being conscious without also thinking my being, I cannot. And as these are thus in the moment of time identical, it would be a contradiction to suppose me being- con scious without me being. Thus is my momentary existence secured or preserved for thought. Whether I can go beyond tins and predicate tho identity of my being or of me as being all through suc cessive moments, is of course not at once settled by this position. But it is not foreclosed by it, and it is open to adduce the proper proof of the continuous identity, if this can be found. This, as seems to me, is what is implied as the guarantee of the first principle of Descartes. He. has not himself, however, developed it in this way, for tho reason chiefly that he did not recognise the principle of Non-Contradiction as regulating immediate inference. There is a little noticed but significant nassa^e in xlii INTRODUCTION. which he touches on this law, in a letter to Clerselior- Eeferring to that which we ought to take for the first principle, he says : " The word principle may be taken in diverse senses, and it is one thing to seek a common notion which is so clear and so general that it may serve as a principle to prove the existence of all beings, the cntia which one will afterwards know; and it is another thing- to seek a being, tho existence of which is moro known to us than that of any others, so that it may serve us as principle for knowing them. In tho first sense if may ho said that it is impossible for the same^ thing at once to be and not to be is a principle, and that if may serve generally, not proporly to make known' the oxisleneo of any thing, but only to causo that when 0110 knows it one confirms the truth of it by such a reason ing,—/!! is impossible that what is should not be ; but I know that such a thing is ; hence I know that it is impos sible it should not be. This is of little importance, and does not mako us wiser. In the other sense, the first principle is that our soul exists, because there is nothing the existence of which is more known to us. I add also that it is not a condition which we ought to re quire of the first principle, that of being such that all other propositions may be reduced to and proved by it ; it is enough that it serve to discover several of them, and that there is no other upon which it depends, or which we can find before it. For it may be that there is not any principle in the world to which alone all things can be reduced ; and tho way in which people reduce other propositions to this, — impossibile est idem simul esse ct non esse, — is superfluous and of no uso ; whereas it is with very groat utility that ono com mences to be assured of the existence of God, and after wards of that of all creatures, by the consideration of his own proper existence." l This shows, on tho whole, that Doscartos had not fully thought, out his own position. Ho had most cer- 1 Lett re LI., to Clersolicr— Gamier, QSuvrcs, iv. p. 160. INTRODUCTION. xliii tainly well appreciated tho true scope of tho principle of non-contradiction, as incapable of yielding a single fact or new notion. In this be showed himself greatly in advance of many nineteenth- century philosophers. And he showed also his thorough apprehension of the fact that tiie true principle of a constructive philosophy lies not in mere identity, or in the preservation of I ho consistency of a thought with itself, but in its affording tho ground of now truths. His view is, that ere tho principle of non-contradiction can come into exercise at all, something must bo known. And any one who really puts meaning into words cannot suppose for a moment anything else. All this should be fully and generously recognisod as ovidenco of a thoroughly far-seeing phil osophical vision. At tho same time, ho does not see the negative or preservative valuo of the principle and tho need of it as a guard for the fact of self- consciousness as being self-existence for the moment, wdiich he finds in experience. It is this principle alone which, supervening on the intuition, makes it definite or limited — a positive,— shut out from the very possibility of being identified with anv opposite or negative,, although this may be implied hi its very conception. The first truth of Descartes— being conscious, I am —is thus not properly described as, in tho first instance a universal in knowledge. It is a definite particular or individual fact, guaranteed by its necessity, bv tho impossibility of transcending definite limits, and in this necessity, or through the consciousness of it, is tho universality connected with the fact revealed. But for tho conscious necessity, I could never either know fhe universality, or guarantoo to myself this universalitv, for I have as yot but knowledge of one actual case, what ever extension my conception may assume in and tluough it ; and but for the. necessity, I could neve- assort the universality— Being conscious, I am; bcim, conscious, each is. xliv INTRODUCTION. unite it ' f C'-n ""V' b°' th° eu^antee of the . Vffa nm7°™l> * rst be a mere abstract e itl ei fo inv f /V ' m Wl)I0h °aSG ft can be W^d neither to my existence nor to my existence at a given obSied f mi'( ° " UniVeVSal t0°' e"^P«tiously obtained for it ,s a universal of thought and beinj vhich I have never known or consciously realised n any mdnudual case. And if I have not done tlS I 7Z no7t • ti b0 applicnMo t0 -y ™°> * lei'to1 tion which V tUi,a" 0U1P^ a°d illcSdimato abstrac- on, wheh can tell me nothing, because it wholly transcends any consciousness. 7 Further, the conviction which we get of the necessary sTotTe toT rlf-CHCi°U?neSS Md -If-" " is not due to the knowledge of the general formula of ^entity and non-contradiction-vil, A is A, and A not-A = 0 But, on the other hand, the necessity hs If" Th "t reaiiSe/ hj US in th6 definite "Stance lUclf. This is as true and certain to us as is the general formula or law which it exemplifies. Nay, we can only m he instance find for ourselves or test tne necessity of the formula itself. We do not thus add to the cor am ty of our conviction of the truth in the particular instance by stating the general formula ; we oiilyTaw out as it were, of the particular case, and then describe^ at most general form on which reflection shows u mle STl7rf °C Convifon rests- It is, therefore, die to alk of evolving the particular truth from the uimcrsal formula; for the latter is nothing to us until it is found exemplified in the particular instance. Nor is it of any greater relevancy to say that self-conscious ness is deduced from consciousness in general or tho idea ol consciousness ; for, on exactly the same princi ple, we know noimng of such a general consciousness 1 Seo supra, p. xxiv. INTRODUCTION. xh unless a8 exemplified in this primary self-consciousness. ¦this is as early m thought and in time as the idea of aCnTfiZneSlfln genei'al) °r °f tbe 1]R° in ^oral, or annifimto self-consciousness, whatever such an ambig uous phrase may, according to the requirements of an argument, be twisted to mean. And this consideration should bo fatal to the view or ¦CdUesentaf,on that there is here "a determination » bv the hmker, or by "thought" which, by the way, scorn's capable of dispensing with a thinker altogether. " To determine " is a very definite logical phrase, which las and can have but one clear meaning, Tl,e mind determines an object when it classifies the malerials of sense and inward experience; and when, descendnm- thro11S81lerg?niei'a) I* r0lT0S SpeC1'CS and "'dividual* through knowledge of differences extraneous to the gem era themselves. Whatever be implied in these p loel l ses it is clear at least that "determination" is a thor- oi reflective process. When wo refer anv givcn obfoct to a class, and thus fix or determine it fin- what i t 1 wo suppose the possession by us of a prior knowledge' -knowledge of a class constituted and represented Py objects-and knowledge too of this or that object of thought, which we now refer to the class. In his sense i is quite clear that Descartes could not be sn posed "to determine "his experience, either as to tie conscious act, or as to the limits under whie h , conceivable by him, for his procedure Was n f • t J and he is no gratuitously to be supposed in conscious possession of knowledge before the sir. ,i, act in which knowledge is for tlm'fiy tnV e^ et;:8' df™ati- ^PUea a consciousness of gen-' eiaiuy — Jn this case even univev^iKH- „f ' t unit, of which he could n.' S^i^ mitil ho became aware ol then, iu i]1(J very act of his o ,-nmental nJloct.ion. Ey,,, „r0 1M|)S, „ , /' of determination-that of regarding an oQeel as such XI VI INTRODUCTION. —can arise into consciousness only reflectively through tho first experience of this or that object in which the notion of object is at once revealed and empha sised. Nay, if, according to a possible but disputable interpretation of Kant, perception being " blind " and conception "empty," tho former is not a species of knowledge at all, and has no separato object : and if conception be equally void ' of object, and yet always needed to make oven an object of knowledge, deter mination is an absurdity; for tho understanding or mind as exercising this function must in this caso be sup posed ablo to determine or clothe in category that which is as yet not an object, of consciousness at all. It must bo ablo to act, though it is assumed as ontiroly ompty and incapable of filling itsolf with content. There are but two alternatives here — either the so-called " mani fold of sensation " is not matter of consciousness, or it is. If tho former, then the empty and uninformed un derstanding can make an object of what is not in any way supplied to it— it can combine into unity what is beyond consciousness itself; or if this "manifold" be in consciousness by itself, it can be so without being known, — consciousness of the manifold may exist with out knowledge of the manifold— that is, without know ledge of its object. We have thus a complexus of absurdity. The understanding can make a synthesis of a " manifold " which is never within its ken ; and it can be conscious of a universal which, as the co-factor of the unconstituted object, is not yet in knowledge. Nothing need bo said of the absurdity of describing "the manifold" of perception when perception has no distinctive object at all, but receives its object from conception. And the " manifold " of perception, while it supposes always a unity and a series of points at least, is about the most inapplicable expression which it is possible to apply to the sensations of taste, odour, sound, and tactual feeling. In these, as sensations, there is no manifold ; each is an indivisible attribute or INTRODUCTION. xlvii unity. These may, no doubt, constitute a manifold through time and succession ; but they can do so only on condition of being separately apprehended in time as objects or points. Tho manifold of sense even cannot be a manifold of non-entities or unconscious elements. But the problem of analysing object or thing is an impossible ono from the first. Of what is ulti mately an object for consciousness, we cannot state the elements, without being conscious of each clement as an object. If wo are not conscious of each element as an object by itself, as distinguished from each other element which enters into flic object, we cannot know what the elements aro which mako up any object of con sciousness. We have not even consciousness or know ledge at all. We cannot specify either the mutual relations or the mutual functions of the elements. If we are conscious of each element by itself and of its functions, wo have an object of knowledge, prior to the constitution of "the object of knowledge — the only object supposed possible. "Thing" or "object" or "being" is ultimately unanalysable by us, seeing that our in strument of analysis is itself only possible by cognising thing or being in some form, — by bringing it" to the analysis. What things are we can tell, — what sorts of things as they stand in different relations to each other, and to us ; but the ground of tho possibility of this is thing or object itself, given in inseparable correlation with the act of consciousness. The truth is that this theory of determination pro ceeds on the confusion of two kinds of judgments which are wholly distinct in character, the logical and the pyschological. The logical judgment always sup poses two ideas of objects known by us. It comes into play only after apprehension of qualities, and is simply an application of classification or attribution. The subject of the judgment is thus determined as belonging to a class, or as possessing an attribute ; but subject, class, and attribute are already in the mind oi xlviii INTRODUCTION. S ,IhlS knd of Judgment is a secondary and Ucina ,vo process, and has nothing to do with tho Pnmittvo acts of knowledge. Tho%Sy0rX Si or me aphysica judgment, if the name Lretafea tiS oh knowledge begins, aud without which tho logical udgn eit is nnpos81hlo-does not suppose a previous .1 soll-co ,sc „nR110M and in pc t. j ¦ ahtv"- t ^r ? the Present and mom-W reality are iden ical. As I am conscious of feeling- so am aformmg the reality of my consciousness or exist- 1lTobi< t t T 1 °XTenS'0r,> so I ^nn the reality of alit eith t- irIn "" olhor ™r «m I reach the icth t 1 S f °i n0t"Self- T° sllPPose that I reach it by companngthe notions of self and existence, Intel v hTT " eslstence-is to suppose an abso^ tfe Wa T SOnfal WledS° of L and fa^, the first instance, that I may know, in the second instance, whether I can join them together, and they SSST1"*! ^i thfS SUPP°SeS that J °- W ^ abstract knowledge by itself, apart from individual re alisation. It supposes also that I can have this before Ln> r i Tb°dlmSnt in the concrete at aU, and finally it fails to give me the knowledge I seek-for it only, at he utmost, could tell me that the ideas of me and existence are not incongruous or contradictory- whereas what I wish to know is whether I actually am. On such a doctrmo my existing must mean merely an ideal compatibility. * In a word, determination of things by thought, as it is called, supposes a system of thought or consciousness. It supposes the thinker to be in possession of notions and principles, and to bo consciously in possession of them O.herwiso it is a blind and unconscious deter- urination done for the thinker, and not by him, and the tnn.cer does not know at all. But if the thinker is already m possession of such a knowledge, we have not INTRODUCTION. xlix explained tho origin of knowledge or experience ; wo have only referred it to a pre-existing system of know- lodgo in consciousness. If, therefore, we arc to show how knowledge rises up for the first time, wo must look to what is before even' this system. But before tho gonoral or generalised — as an abstraction — we havo only tho concrete individual instance, — the act of con sciousness in this or that case. Either, therefore, we beg a system of knowledge, or wo do not know at all, or we know the individual as embodying the general or universal for the first time. Tho intuition of self and its modes no doubt involves a great many elements or notions, not obvious at first sight. It involves unify, individuality, substance, rela tion; it involves identity, and difference or discrimina tion of subject and object, of self and state. These notions or elements analytical reflection will explicitly evolve from the fact, as its essential factors. Somo arc disposed to call these presuppositions. I have no desire to quarrel with the word. They are presupposi tions in the sense of logical concomitance, or correlation. The fact or reality embodies them ; they are realised in the fact. The fact is, if you choose, reason realised. But they are not presuppositions, in the sense of grounds of evolution of the fact in wdiich wo find them. They are in it, and elements of it ; but the fact is as necessary to their realisation and known existence as they are to it. You cannot take these by themselves, abstract them, set them apart, and evolve this or that individuality out of them. You cannot deduce the reality or individuality of an I>o from them— -the Ego I find in experience or conscious ness — because this very reality is necessary to their realisation or being in thought at all. There is no relation or subordination here. It is co-ordination, or better, tho correlation of fact and form, — of bcinn- aud law of being. We can thus also detect how much, or rather hew I INTRODUCTION. '""'^-"entalpnueiplcofthemoderns."! "An entire re .nova of ^supposition," if hy that be mean tf££ , s not possible on any system of philosoph/ No uppos, Uonless system can be stated in this sense v.thoul glaring meonsisfency. T|, jfl ,b initio suicidal' must be there to think, that is, I must be conscious Tvbore there is thf possibility of either truth or en or • and the intelligible system developed must have an ,1' deduced basis m my conseionsness, guaranteed by t at consciousness. And in regard to the Hegelian 01 most pretentious attempt of this sort, it ooufd read li b9 shown that the method or dialectic is in no way con atneainthe basife,-or is even the native law of the dedue tion. As such it is borrowed, not deduced. D ft lime bought ls a ways necessarily postulated; other wise there is neither affirmation nor negation T Is Descartes accepted; and on this necessary assumption was ZZl 'bltl'al7' "^ Sel^aranteeing, LPv£$ liahVcUvli0 ],ll[T,,' "so.racth.in8- determined and estab- s e ml" I Ml5 11'' -thlS V a* 1MbP-^riafe an expression as could wcU be imagined. What is the "thought" which determines or establishes things for us? Is it » Sch^Icr Hulory e,f Philosophy, p. 103, 5th ect. Comn p i56 nu says . i lniosopliy has ngnm won its proper wound tint ,l>m,«,l,t proofed, frora tho„,ht, M cue thing in itUlf certain not ™ Ze nns rxtcrnr, , not Irom something gim,, but absolutely 1 freedom which is contained in 'I think.'" INTKODUCTION. li " thought " divorced from any consciousness ? Is it thought realised by me in and through my consciousness? It is apparently not what is found or given, but what determines or establishes. But is this a thing by itself, this thought, — is it a power in the universe working alone and by itself? Apparently so. If thought determines and' establishes things it is a very defmito and practical power. But then \lo I, or can I, know this thought which is obviously superior to me and tho first act of self-consciousness? How can I speak of thought at all as a determining power fur me, when as yet I am neither conscious nor existent,? If there were a system of knowledge above knowledge known to mo — or a system of thought above mv thought, thought by me — or a consciousness above my consciousness, of which, or in which, I was conscious before my consciousness,— then I could accept tho de termination by thought of all truth for me. But as it is, until I can reconcile to the ordinary conditions of intel ligibility this fallacy of doubling thought or knowledge, I must give up the experiment as a violation of good sense and reason. Determination by thought cither means that I am already in conscious possession of knowledge (in which case I presuppose knowledge to account for knowledge), or it means that something called thought, which is not yet either me or my con sciousness, or even consciousness at all, determines me and my consciousness, in which case I cannot know anything of this process of determination, for ex hypo- thesi I neither am nor am conscious until I am deter mined to bo so. To know or bo consciously determined by this thought, I must be in it actually anil consciouslv from the first, in which case I know before I know, and I am before I am, or I must be in it potentially from the first — that is, unconsciously, in which case" I am able to keep up all through tho process of determination a continuity of being between unconsciousness and con sciousness, and to retain a memory of that which I o lii 1NTK0DU0TI0N. never consciously knew. To connect myself and my consciousness in this way with such a determining thought, or something, is a simple impossibility. The fallacy in all this lies in the suggestion of the phrase " to, determine." This is ambiguous, or rather it has a connotation which is fallacious, or helps fal lacious thought. To determine is ultimately to con-: ceive, or limit by conception— i. c, to attach a predi cate to a subject. But to determine may easily be taken to mean fixing as existent — not merely as a possible object of experience, but as a real or actual object. And in this sense it is constantly used— espe cially at a pinch when it is necessary to identify the ideal possibility of an object of thought with its reality. To assert existence of a subject, and to enclose it in a predicate, are totally different operations. As to object —we can ideally construct an object of knowledge with all the determinations and relations necessary. We can think it in time and space, and under category— as quality, or effect,— but this does not give us existence. This, considered in relation to the notion, is a synthetic attribute; and the so-called constitution of the object, all its necessary conditions being fulfilled in thought, gives us no more than a purely ideal object. Existence wo get and can got only through intuition. The subject is some thing — some being — ere we determine it by predb catos. If it is ever to be real, it is already real. No subsequent predication can make it so. The truth is, that being is not a proper predicate at all. It is but the. subject— perceived or conceived — and is thus, as real or ideal, fhe prerequisite of all predication. Tho School men were right in making being transcendent — that is, something not included in tho predicamonts at all, but tho condition of predication itself. This, too, is virtually tho view of Kant, as shown in his dealing with the Ontological argument. To say that I detormino knowlcclgo by means of 1NTKODUCTION. liii forms of intuition, — as space and time, — and by cate gory, or by both, is thus to revcrso the order of know ledge. Besides, it is utterly impossible logically to de fend this doctrine without maintaining that category, or the universal in thought, or thought per se, is truly knowledge, — a doctrine which in words is denied by tho upholders oi a priori, determination, but in reality con stantly proceeded upon by them. But the spontaneous and intuitive act of knowledge necessarily precedes the reflective and formulating. Direct apprehension is the ground of self-ovidence ; testing by reflection proves space, time, and category to be necessary ; and, if necessary, universal in our knowledge. Self-evidencing reality, guarded by the principles of identity "and non-contradiction, is thus the ultimate re sult of the Cartesian method, and the starting-point of speculative philosophy. Tho basis proved a narrow- one ; and the deductive system of propositions which he grounded on it did not attain throughout even a logical consistency, far less a real truth. But this does not affect the value of his method, which is twofold — tho intuition of the reality of self as given in conscious ness, and the limit set to doubt by the principle of non-contradiction. Tho most essential and perhaps the most valuable feature in the philosophy of Descartes is thus seen to bo the affirmation involved in the cogito ergo sum of tho spon taneity of the primary act of knowledge. I am conscious is to mo tho first — the beginning- alike of knowledge and being; and I can go no higher, in the \\ ay of pi unary di rect net. Whatever I may subsequently know depends on this — tho world, other conscious beings, or (iod himself. This is to me the revelation of being, and the ground of knowledge. This was to found knowledge on its true basis — conscious experience, and conscious experience as in this or that definit.0 form, — of feeling-, perceiving, imagining, willing. Even though Descartes had gone liv INTRODUCTION. no further than tins, he inaugurated a method, an oraa- nor, l of philosophy, which, if it bo abandoned by the spec ulative thinker, must leave him open to the vagaries of abstraction, to tho mythical creations of "pure thought " ~t. e., of reasoning divorced from experience. &The least evil of this process is that it is a travesty of reason- nig it.sell— that conclusions aro attached to promissos, and not drawn from them,— and the whole process is an illegitimate personification of abstractions. Descartes properly laid down the principle that knowledge springs out of a definite act of a conscious being, self revealed m the conscious act., Ho did not stop to analyse tlio whole elements of this act, or to set forth the conditions of its possibility, or to analyse the condi tions ot the thing or "object" of which the self-con scious being takes cognisance, or to considor how the conscious act has arisen— whether out of tho inde terminate, or out of determinate conditions. He had neither full analysis nor hypothesis on these points; and as to tho last, he was right, for he saw clearly that con scious experience in a given modo must bo, ere any of these questions can even be conceived or determined. And had some of those who havo since followed out these hues of inquiry, fully appreciated and truly kept m view the Cartesian position of a positive experiential act as tho necessary basis of all knowledge by us, they would have kept their analysis of its conditions closer to the facts, and they would have seen also that no start ing-point in a so-called " universal," or in thought above this conscious experience, is at all possible ; that know ledge by " determination " is a mere dream and an illegit- lmato doubling of knowledge or consciousness ; that at tho utmost, in this respect, knowledge never can riso beyond mere con-elation of particular and universal; and that, both in philosophy and in science, knowledge grows and is consolidated, not through "re-thinking" or " reasoning- out " of experience, but through a patient study of the conditions of experience itself, in succession INTRODUCTION. Iv and coexistence, — a study in which the individuality of human life and effort matches itself in but a feeble, yet not unsuccessful way, against the infinity of time and space. This, too, would have prevented the mistake of supposing that the only critical, analytic, and reflective, in a word, philosophical, thought is 1,1ml, which accepts or finds a formula, within which our experience must bo compressed or discarded as unreal, with tho risk, actually incurred, of sacrificing what is most vital in that experience. VI. THE CRITERION OF TRUTH. Descartes sought to evolve a criterion of truth from tho first indubitable position. This was the clearness and distinctness of knowledge. He has denned this test in the following words: "I call that clear which is present and manifest to the mind giving attention to it, just as wo are said clearly to sec objects when, being present to the eye looking on, they stimulate it with sufficient force, and it is disposed to regard them ; but the distinct is that which is so precis",?, and different from all other objects as to comprehend in itself only what is clear." 1 This test is evidently derived from reflection on in tuitional knowledge. It is involved in his first truth, but it is not the sole guarantee of that truth ; for this, as wo havo seen, is ultimately non-con tradietion. His first truth could hardly be taken as affording the strict conditions of all truth, for in this case truth would need to be both direct and necessary. Certain principles might be so, but oven in respect of them, it would oxcludo tho idea of derivation and subordination, and lend to the idea of independent realitv and guarantee Aud the test would exclude all derivative knowledge, 1 Principles, Part T., s, 45j p, o12i hi INTRODUCTION. -gent or probabl0 truth w d b ^ f tmth> cm' fi-om the name. Descartes t, f°ge«-or excluded «« general statemcu 0f ' ° 00ntented Ilims^ with »d : Iiis first truth ? at^tSTT ^ <**«*«*.; the basis of deduction I™ tl i ^ aS siriW Proceed to build ire a ' 1 'i , gTOUnd wlleilc° ^ n ay rial non-Ego P rhllosol% * God and the mate. 'li«HnotIy conceive i," reef, ^ ^ "6 ^ Mld -1'!—- '-'-, an ileal PoSXv™niirUI1,mtit is I™" it is real-,'.e, a n after of f * "^ mCftn thn' Descartes has not al caref, ,T " ?»8t«"». And senses of the word t ue-a t 7 dlstlfguished those of the being of Deity from tlio ^^ m Ilis Pro°f formula m the latter , u e e a T, If W° ta,ro tLo -<- notional realiy y'i6^*0 identify truth being. " U lts ielations— thought with The best criticism of tho n»,t • questionably fh,t 4™^'™ ^erion is „„. y«Per-J/cv^^„t,s^i^.^^mte m his famous indicates with th^Zvf^ He -r concepts kn u ! J^ ct V ^^ %™d™ of tl'e object is not d l n -u shcS if °n 1$ 0bBOUro» wllen objects around it. ' I C ^°-m °U.lcr obJe°te or the tW"S',-not nothnm. ,'^Lt •> ™ ¦* mW0 BOm^ »' i'« ou-n class oHlii o ' ' ^ i;1'00180^ ". oi'l'er rJ,'i,r» »'l>enwi are -,1 I , r i i CoS,"t")". "gain, is I'-i'ilmoim, p. 7£), INTRODUCTION. lvii other ; yet we cannot specify the marks by which wo do so. At the same time suoh marks must exist, seeing the objects aro resolvable into their respective causes. Our knowledge, again, is distinct when we can specify the discriminating marks, as the assay ers in dealing with gold ; and as wo can do in the case of number, magnitude, figure. But distinct knowledge may still further bo Inadequate or Adequate. It is inadequate when the discriminating marks aro not analysed or re solved into more elementary notions, being sometimes clearly and sometimes confusedly thought, — as, for ex ample, tho weight and colour of gold. Knowledge, again, is adequate when the marks in our distinct cognition by analysis to an end or termination. Whether any perfect example of this exists is, in the view of Leibnitz, doubtful. Number is the nearest approach to it. Then there is the distinction of the Blind or Symbolical and the Intuitive in cognition, — the former being the poten tiality of conception which lies in terms ; the latrcr being the clear and distinct or individual picture of each marl- so lying undeveloped. When cognition is at once ade quate and intuitive, it is Perfect. But Leibnitz bete at least hesitates to say whether such can be, realised. To distinct cognition there attaches Nominal Definition. This is simply the evolution of tho distinct knowledge, — the drawing out of the marks which enable us to dis tinguish an object from other objects. But deeper than this lies Real Definition. This makes if manifest that tho thing conceived or alleged to be conceived is pos sible. The tost of tho possible is the absence of con tradiction in tho object thought; the proof of the im possible is ils presenco. Possibility is either a nrim-i or a posteriori, — tho former, when we resolve a. notion into other notions of known possibility; the latter, when wo havo experience of fhe actual existence of the object: for what actually exists is possible. Adequate know ledge involves cognition flu .'oug'i means oi a priori pes- lviii INTRODUCTION. S" But? -J^T analysis carried th™eh to its riut ones to the same thing, to tho absolute attributes 1,i,lMlillr'Tlv nf'1,li08 I,is diB«n°tion of nominal 1 .'-'i I: lion, the notion of the most perfect bohu> : • \ .ji " ,mld bo c°™ct to say that God neces sau-ily exists if only He. is first of all posited as possible So long as this is not done, the argument for Cex £ tence does not amount to more than a presump fo JJut Descartes has either relied on a fallacious proof of 1- possibility of the Divine existence, or T ha en leavourcd to evade the necessity of proving it. That" TrS- 'an SUPPliCd LCI'bnitZ beliGV^ Md S 1 ; o bint, as given in the real definition is at tho very K ' "S °f " B-ystcmv°f Pledge. Possibility, or the absence of contradiction, underlies, in fact clear noss and distinctness. It is esscntial Q t,^^ any object o thought. The furthest point in afiac tion to which we can go back is sonic beinq Time ^crf,-so,,,e hmg as opposed to nothing or non-bob? But even this something must be at least defin eiy bought or distinguished from its contradictory opposite oil-being or not lung, If it wero not, tho £»££ o,.,hl be nnpossihe. Its reality as a positive notion depends on tins. Nay, even the negation, non-being or 1 ftnlmann, p 80. 2 IMimmu, v. 80. Compare Ep. de Cart. Dcm., p. 78. INTRODUCTION. lix nothing, depends for any meaning it possesses on tho positive being an object of knowledge. Tho correlation here is not between two definite elements ; one known as positive, the other as negative ; there is correlation, but there is no correality. The negative side is satis fied by mere negation, as in tho parallel case of one and none. And no reconciling medium is conceivable — nono is possible to thought. If so, lei. if be named. To galvaniso the negative into a positive in such a. case, and call it synthetic thought, is simply to baptise tho absurd. This solid advance on Descartes is virtually duo to l,ho acuto and accurate mind of Leibnitz. 11, is our main safeguard against fantastic speculation. Tho most liberal, and probably the fairest interpreta tion of the criterion of Descartes is. that it is the asser tion of the need of evidence, whatever be its kind, as the ground of the acceptance of a statement or proposi tion. As such, it is the expression of the spirit of tho philosophy of Descartes, and of tho spirit also of modern research. As evidence must make, its appeal to the individual mind, it may be supposed that this principle loads to individualism in opinion. This is certainly a possiblo result, but it is not essential to fhe principle. Evidonce may be, nay, is, at once individual and uni versal. The individual consciousness may realise for itself what is common to all ; and indeed has not reached ultimate evidence until it has done so. .And, however important may bo tho place of history, lan guage, and social institutions in the way of a true and complete knowledge of mind or man, even these, must appeal in the last resort to the conscious laws and pro cesses of evidence, as embodied in the individual mind. From his virtually making truth lie in a definite and high degree of conscious activity, Descartes Mas natu rally led to regard error as more or less a negation, or rather privation. This idea he connects with Deity. Error is a mere negation, in respect of tlie Divine action ; it is a privation in respect of my own action, inasmuch Ix INTRODUCTION. as I deprive myself by it of something which I ought to have and might have. He thus develops his doctrine of Error. 1. When I doubt, I am conscious of myself as an incomplete and dependent being; along with this consciousness, or, as we would now say, correlativelv with it, I have the idea of a complete and independent Being — that is, God. This idea being in my conscious ness, and I existing, tho object of it— God— exists. '2. The faculty of judging, which I possess as the gift of a perfect being, cannot lead me into error, if I use it aright. Yet it is truo that I frequently err, or am deceived. How is this consistent with my faculty of judging being the, gift of a, perfect God? 3. " I have in my consciousness not only a real and positive idea of God, but a certain negative idea of nothing— in other words, of that which is at an infinite distance from every sort of perfection; and a conception that I am, as it wore, a mean between God and nothing, or placed in such a way between absolute existence and non-existence, that there is in truth nothing in me to lead mo into error, in so far as an absolute being is my crea tor. On the other hand, as I thus likewise participate in some degree of nothing or of non-being — in other words, as I am not myself the Supreme Being, and as I am wanting in every perfection, it is not surprising I should fall into error. And I hence discern that error, so far as error, is not something real, which de pends for its existence on God, but is simply defect. . . . Yet " error is not, a pure negation [in other words, it is not tho simplo deficiency or want of some knowledge which is not due] but the privation and want of what if would seem I ought to possess. . , . Assuredly God could have created me such that I should never be deceived. ... Is it better, then, that I should be capable of being deceived than that I should not?" 4. The answer to this is twofold. First, I, as finite, INTRODUCTION. lxi am incapable of comprehending always fhe reasons of the Divino action ; and, secondly, what appears to bo imperfection in a creature regarded as alone in tho world, may not really bo so, if tho creature be considered as occupying " a place in the relation of a part to the great whole of His creatures." What precisely that relation is, Descartes does not undertake to specify. This solution of the difficulty is, therefore, only pic- blematical. 5. As a matter of observation, error depends on the concurrence of two causes, to wit — Knowledge and Will. By the Understanding alone, I neither affirm nor deny ; but merely apprehend or conceive ideas. It is Judg ment which affirms or denies. And here we musl dis tinguish between noippossession and privation. There may be, and are, innumerable objects in the universe of which I possess no ideas. But this is simple non- possession ; it arises from my finitudc. It is not priva tion, for it cannot bo shown to be tho keeping or taking away from me of what I ought to have. Tlie form or essonco of error lies not in non-posstssion, but in priva tion. So far as Deity is concerned, this non-possession on my part of certain ideas is pioperly negation, not privation ; for it is not properly a thing or existence. It is merely that Deity, in determining my knowledge, has allowed that knowledge a definite sphere of possi bility, and restricted it from objects beyond. But as [ never had, or can be shown to have had, any a priori right to more than I have actually got, there never was in respect of me any privation. 6. Again, there aro objects which are not clearly and distinctly apprehended by the Understanding. This may be a mere temporary state of mind, which is capable uf being removed by clear and distinct knowledge. These two facts, then, that in some quarters there is no know ledge, and that, knowledge is in some cases not clear or distinct, render error possible. For the power of will, which is wider than the understanding— in fact, abso- Ixii INTRODUCTION. » t^enf enmer i^th ^ <^**-»7 W It ^'a f^lt^^iri^ -- I am unable to conceive the idea of anotl e^t S's n 11 which T V"'1 °XlTW1; S° *^i'»d.i ymy 1 - hi this .-. W !°Ut deBtr°>™S ih Its power bin" • t i-aUrnVtbaT'' '7 t0-d° " UOt to d° tbe ™ tancbng, we so act that we are not conscious of it Us essence ,s not, however, m indifference in respect to be same thing; this is the lowest grade of lilcrt° n id 0°° Y' ^f STOatC1' deSree of knowledge the mind possesses as to one of the alternatives, and the uiscqnently greater inclination of the will to adort that alternative, the more freedom there is • freedom consisting ninthly in a consciousness of not b" 1 mT " ¦ 1 VM'Uf 7 a°ti0n * ™* 6xte™^ ^o. f lowed' v ' ^ r "aniCSS °f th° ^erstandirig, ""><^'d by strong mehnarton in tho wihA As, how cut, we do not always wait for this condition t de.o.mmc affirmatively or negatively, or pursue a, sniiiL without il, wo fall into error or 'sin Error is thus no direct consequence of finitudo ; only Ce possibi bty of it ,.s fi0. It, is proporl fo bo ^ lu a, It should, however, be observed here that H.ea.tes positions regarding the will do not appear t" be consistent. The two definitions of liberty IE 1 Molualums, iv. p. iZtiets.q. INTRODUCTION. Ixiii he gives are exclusive of each other. Wc cannot be conceived absolutely free in respect of two given alter natives, and yet free when the inclination of tho will follows the greater clearness of the Understanding. The former is the liberty of indifferenco ; the hitter is simply that of spontaneity, — tho spontaneity being relative to a previous or conditioning state of the consciousness. It is further clear from the statements now quoted, that Descartes did not regard the Ego of consciousness as either a nogation, non-entity, or illusion, as is repre sented, but a very definite and real positive — a mean, as he puts it, between absolute existence on the one side, and non-oxistonco on the other. He certainly did not hold that tho finite consciousness, so far as finite, is either an error or an illusion. On tho contrary, it is with him the basis of the very possibility of know ledge, and the typo and warrant of a higher conscious ness. And what other ground is possible ? If tho finite by itself be regarded as an illusion, and the in finite by itself be regarded as the same, it is curious to find that tho two together make up reality. In this case, the relation between infinite and finite, may be assumed as the true reality. So long as wo hold the relation in consciousness, infinite and finite are known, and therefore real. But ere we can make this out, we must vindicate^ tho possibility of a conscious relation between two terms, in themselves incognisable, non existent, or illusory. Being must thus mean a ground less relation suspended in vacuo. Nor is there anything special to his doctrine of Error which logically compels him to hold thoso conclusions. Principles of inference entirely foreign to his system and habit of thought may be assumed, and conclusions of this sort thus forced on his promises. It may, for example, be said, with Spinoza, that "determination is negation,"' and that tho finite, as finite, is a mere ne gation or non-entity ; becauso it is a negation of the Ixiv INTRODUCTION. absolute substance, or of an Infinite E™ or Infinite «?Mf doctrine whatever which tcoZ^ eIo °/ "^ seiousness as simply a fact ° "a Z. % Anl Te pnncple of every determination being a negation is it is lathei self-condemned. It stands in need, at least of thorough and precise vindication ere it is o use in ,te it will be. hard to show its consistency. We must have the proof m the first instance, of the AbsZte „& 'vlf' s' Ifi lfc snifl that the Infinite Eo-0 i„ tho necessary correlate of the finite Ego? What then? e^s :-; rrrL;'rtion imply that th° ^^2:^1 Lgo is rea in the sense in which the Ego of conscious ness is real? Or rather even, as it seeing to beTf d" does it necessarily imply that the 1?™ „f /""'ou, discovers itself not X^tlTto?™™™** +1, j. -x • , . " car it at first is conscious hat it is and is really only a mode of this trdy eS mg Infin, e Ego ? These are points in the lo TIIE E«0 AND Till! MATERIAL WOULD. On this point the doctrine of Descartes may be sum marily stated. We have, in tho first place, an assured world of con sciousness with tho Ego as its centre,— the centre of thoughts and ideas. But Descartes recognises, as he must, the knowledge of extension or an extended object— of a thing filling space. This knowledge is in the consciousness. How is it got? From the ,ritv, somehow. But what precisely is the knowledge t]le' senses give us of the material non-Ego? Have we as direct a knowledge of it as we have of consciousness and its modes? In the view of Descartes eertainlv not. Tho extended does not guarantee its own exis tence, as the consciousness does. We aro not at once involved in self-contradiction, in denying its realitv, as we are m the case of our consciousness. The extended is known through idea or representation ; and it is the problem of Cartesianisni to vindicate, the realitv on tho ground of the idea, to show that outside of conscious ness, as it were, there is an object, corresponding to idea in the circle of consciousness itself. Herein lies the so-called dualism of Descartes ¦ but in point of fact, it is but one form of his dualism, for there is with h,m the contrast between the finite l>o and God, and this is as much a dualism as the contrast be tween consciousness and extension. But the position of Doscartes in relation to mind ami matter is that on the one hand, there is consciousness ; on the other there Ixvi INTRODUCTION. is extension, implying or rendering possible figure and motion. Accepting these as the only possible qualities of matter, Descartes sought to show how all the pheno mena of tho material universe might be produced, and according to the notional method of his philosophy at once inferred that they actually wore so produced. This of courso resulted in a mere ignoring aliko of facts and laws, especially of tho great Newtonian principle of gravitation, which could havo no place in such a physi cal philosophy as that of Descartes. But consciousness being set on ono side, and extension or body on the other, tho quostion arose in tho mind of Descartes as lo whether, or rather how, there could pos sibly bo between these tho relation of knowledge. If he. had simply asked whether there was such a relation, the problem was not of difficult solution ; but when he asked how such a relation was possible, he raised a totally different and probably illegitimate question. But be this as it may, Descartes hold that there could be no immediate consciousness of extension or an extended object on the part of the mind. The process of Per ception, according to Descartes, may be stated as fol lows : There is the occurrence of organic impressions on organ, nerve, and brain. The last of these reaches the central point of tho nervous organisation, — by him regarded as the pineal gland, — these organic move ments aro not in consciousness at all ; even the last of them is not apprehended or known in the process of our sensitivo consciousness. Yet the apprehension of the extra-organic object is impossible without the so as con ditions of our knowledge. On occasion of tho last of tho organic movements, an idea of the extra -organic object is generated in tho consciousness. This is the single object of consciousness. It is representative of the outward object, — of tho external or oxtra-organio object. Through and on tho ground of this representa tive idea we know and believe, in a world of outward objects. Descartes uses idea both for those organic INTRODUCTION lxvii movements, — tho traces on the brain, and for the con scious representation ; but nothing can be clearer than that ho held the former to lie who]] 3' beyond conscious ness during the time of their occurrence, and to bo merely the occasions on which the mental idea rose into con sciousness.1 Hero ho virtually supposes supernatural action to excite the idea ; and he makes an appeal to tho veracity of Deity to guarantee the inference of outward reality from it. Descartes' treatment of this point cannot bo said to bo satisfactory. Indeed no satisfactory dealing with the problem is possible, as its (onus were put by Descartes. His position in substance is, Hal as God is veracious, wo may trust that the idea, really and ade quately represents the material non-Ego. But of courso there is the prior question as to how the idea came into the consciousness, and then as to the rbdit we havo to suppose it representative. The veracity of Deity, even if adequately and logically vindicated for the system, would guarantee nothing to us beyond what our consciousness or idea might actually testify. And if the idea, be not properly got, be not a real idea, and if the conditions under which it is supposed to bo got render its representative character logical];,- impos sible, the veracity of Deity could not licit, us to give an untruo reality or character to the idea. We should then be merely calling in the veracity of Deitv to en able us to assert as real and true what was simply a matter of our own fancy and fiction ; to give to a thing. ,i reality and character which it had not, and not merely to obviate objections or satisfy doubt leg.nding the reality and the character which it proclaimed itself to have. God's veracity can never be pledged for tiny- thing more than tho facts of consciousness are, or tho deliverance of consciousness declares. Aud to ascertain this in the first place is the tti.sk of philosophical method and relloelivo anal;, sis. 1 Sec Appendix, Nolo II,, p. 27C el seq. lxviii INTRODUCTION. With respect to the first question, as to how we know tho extended reality in which we believe, whether by intuition or indirectly, there are passages in Descartes which point to the acknowledgment of direct or intuitive knowledge.1 But ho gives this up, and, through force of old presumption, restricts percep tion to ideas or states of consciousness. Obviously, if intuition cannot be made out in some form or other, a material non-Ego must bo given up ; and certainly the hypothesis of tho representative idea, as is now well acknowledged, will not help us. To think out the notion of a. material non-Ego, from tho requisites of mere self- consciousness, is impossible. Nothing can be weaker than Kant's vacillating attempts at the proof of a world in space and time from self-con sciousness. This could be done only as tho requisite of the difference of the self from the not-self; but this is satisfied by tho mere modes of consciousness themselves varying in time. Self, apart from these, is unknowable and unthinkable, but not apart from a material non- Ego. Again, a representative idea is impossible apart from repeated intuitive acts. Tlie points and details must bo successively apprehended ere they can be cog nised! in representation. And wo must apprehend these as the condition of our recognition of tho correct repre sentation. But Descartes seems to have had difficulties, as is usual, as to tho possibility of direct knowledge by consciousness of extension. These were part of the general alleged difficulties as to how two things so different in nature as consciousness and extension could have communion or intercourse — how mind could know matter, or influence it in anything — how matter could act upon or affect mind. As to the general fact of the intuition of extension, or any material quality, he did not see that in so dealing with the question ho was illogieally putting tho question of 1 Sco L'e Passionibus, Art. xxiii. INTRODUCTION. lxix possibility before the question of fact. This order could only be fairly followed on a system which pro fessed to demonstrate a priori, or by pure thought, tho possibility of knowledge, and through this possibility to determine the facts, or at least to make the con ception of the facts square with the ideal possibility. This need not at present bo discussed ; for although Descartes was in a sense demonstrative, this was not tlie kind of demonstration he contemplated ; and it is one which, as might be anticipated, 'is exceedingly likely to mutilate tho integrity alike of truth and phil osophy. But Descartes had no idea of demonsf nil intr either the possibility of knowledge or the contents iif knowledge. His demonstration was so far a legitimate one. He sought or assumed facts of experience3 or con sciousness, and endeavoured to show their logical con nections and relations. The method, when carried out in its integrity, is primarily one of observation and reflective analysis. And in order to the faithful applica tion of it, we must scrutinise carefully and fully every form of our conscious life, and every, even apparent, deliverance of our intelligence. This at least is tho first thing to be done, whatever theory wo may afterwards form of tho origin or genesis of those forms of our con scious life, or even, if that be possible, of our conscious ness itself. Of all things the most unwarrantable, is to adopt, whether on so-called grounds of reason or on tradition, which comes to very much tho samo thine- certain general assumptions regarding what is possible or impossible in knowledge, and by means of these assumptions to override, mutilate, or 'reject the positive deliverances of our intelligence— especially on the side of intuition. But this is precisely what Descartes seems to have done; it is what has "been done repeatedly since Ins time ; it is done now ; and until philosophical method is freed from this unfaithfulness, philosophy can inako no real progress, and will continue to fail short of the breadth of experience and reality. lxx INTRODUCTION. So far as the knowledge of a material non-Ego is concerned, the question is simply one of analysis of our consciousness. Wo cannot beforehand say, it is impossible I can know aught of extension or resistance, or any other form of reality, because I can know only my own states of consciousness, or because I cannot know anything distinct from myself. This is to sup pose I hat you have a. philosophy ere you set about seek ing it. Whero has this superior philosophy boon got, and what is its guarantee? Only in that consciousness tho fulness of whoso deliverances it is adduced to dis credit. For a consciousness to ino abovo my conscious ness is an absurdity and contradiction in terms. If wo look for a moment at some of tho supposed difficulties alleged against tho intuition of a material non-Ego, we shall see both how assumptive and how trifling they are. It seems that the mind or consciousness, in order to apprehend extension, or in apprehending extension, must become extended — that is, must cease to be mind. Or tho mind being indivisible, if it apprehends exten sion, must become divisible — and so on. Why must this be? Simply from an abuse of words and a false analogy. Extension apprehended is said to be within consciousness ; consciousnesss is therefore necessarily* extended; it has parts beyond parts liko extension. A sufficient answer to this would bo — when I am con scious of extension, as a series of coexisting points, I do not cease to lie conscious of mind — I do not become extended or divisible — nay, I should not know what extension or divisibility meant at all, if I had not in myself tho co-apprchension of tho non-cxtonded and indivisible. I know or apprehend only through contrast and correlation ; and if all in knowlodgo bo one, say the extended, f do not. know tho extended at all. It is really nothing for inc. or my knowledge. Conscious ness as I experience it, and as 1 can conceive if, is nn antithesis — a varying contrast — through an identity, INTRODUCTION. lxxi of acts or states and me, of objects of these acts and me, of the successive and the one, of the divisible and the indivisible, the extended and the non-extended : and because I am or am supposed to be percipient of an object made up of parts beyond parts, I no more become such, or coaso to bo the one indivisible knower, than I cease to bo one because I am conscious in succession of various thoughts or feelings. 'The ex pression, within consciousness, indicates simply a false analogy based on tho previous assumption that, con sciousness is an extended thing, which, like fhe object porcoived, is capable of a within and a without— that is, it is a mere begging of tho point, at issue. Tho truth is, that so far as this point is concerned, so far from knowledge implying an identify between the subject knowing and the object known, it rather pos tulates a difference; for wo always and must always distinguish subject and object in the act. But it should be kept in mind that in order to constitute this differ- once we do not require an object such as extension or resistance ; wo require, only a mode of consciousness whatever that may bo, feeling or desire. This enables us to discriminate self and mode, or self and object, as well as extension or resistance. The extended, and to us insentient, is tho truo test, not of self and its modes, but of self and its modes on tho one hand, and the material non-Ego on the other. Self might bo realised in tho fulness of its being through tho moments of time ; its conception of reality is amplified by tho apprehension of the points of space; but flu's does not make it to bo or to know more truly what it is. Tho living spirit knows itself to be in tho very movements which rovcal its life. If this bo so, fhe material non- Ego is pot the necessary diverso correlate of tlie Ego; the Ego is not subverted by its subversion, but The field is left open, apart, from all a priori assumption as to its powors of apprehension and compass; and a bans is laid for tho requirements of a faithful and sound Ixxii INTRODUCTION. psychology. The whole, too, of. the speculation sub sequent to Descartes regarding Occasional Causes, Vision in Deity, and Pro-established Harmony, originat ing in the groundless difficulty which he felt about the knowledge of tho material non-Ego, is superseded as being- devised merely to ovorcome an imaginary difficulty. But tho whole of the current doctrine of subjectivity is based on an assumption or an imperfect analysis of the matter of fact. The phrases, " state of conscious ness " and "our knowledgo being confined to states of consciousness," are about as ambiguous as can well be imagined. They confound the knowledge by the con scious self of its modes with the knowledge by the conscious self of qualities of a wholly different orde^ The first is a self-guaranteeing knowledge, as we have seen ; the other is a knowledge, but it is not self-guar anteeing, at least on the principle of non-contradiction. I am conscious of purely subjective states ; I am further conscious of a sentient extended organism, which I call my body, and at the same time I am conscious of an ex tension, which is no part of my sentient organism, cor responding to the surface of contact. This is as clear and distinct a deliverance of consciousness as can bo found in experience. Even supposing it to be shown that we have no consciousness of external qualities until the sensorium is reached by the ordinary organic impres sions, this by no means proves that the perceptive fac ulty, as conscious, does not reach tho utmost bound of tlie. bodily organism, the. moment the stimulus is com pleted. None of these preceding organic impressions is an object of consciousness at all ; and what we may perceive, though following upon these, is by no means limited by them. The scopo of consciousness must, in a word, be tested by what consciousness actually declares. Tlie sontiency wo experience and feci is all through the bodily organism ; for, as Mr Lowes has shown, the brain is not exclusively Iho organ of sensa- INTRODUCTION. Ixxiii tmn. But there is a limit to this sontiency— beyond Which it cannot go, and which it does not transcend lhis is found at the point of contact between Pee bodily surfaco and what we tiro thus entitled to call the oxter nal object. As this quality or object is not. felt or known by us to be sentient or part of our senticnev as oni bodily organism is, we regard it as a. non-Ego, or as not identical with any mode of our consciousness. 1'his jH for us the material or truly external non-Ego. The out- ward material world is for us the insentient, extended and resisting. Our test of this as an independent exist ence, as something uiore Hum a lucre, stale ot scnti-moy or consciousness is, that it is not necessary to the exist ence or to the fact of our consciousness, /am conscious docs not imply an outward material non-Ego ; it implies merely a distinction in the consciousness itself between the Ego and the mode, and between the E-o and tee successive modes. Withdrew either of those, and un consciousness perishes. But it is not so with the dual ities of extension and resistance correlative, to my liv ing and moving organism. Consciousness is not" sub verted by taking those awav ; and the conclusion therefore, is irresistible that I am, whether they sub sist or not— that they are not identical with mv being — that,_ m a word, there is a mutual independence and corrcahty between me, the conscious subject, and those qualities or objects of consciousness, at least duriu- the act of perception. This, as appears to me, is the" last point m the analysis of perception which we. can reach. It is for us an ultimate and irreconcilable antithesis of being. It is given us, too, by that consciousness which, in its ultimate and fully analysed primary data,, is the supreme source of knowledge for us. That there is some transcendent ultimate unity, from white both tho Ego mid the non-Ego flow, is a plausible hypothesis ; but it is only a hypothesis— one more or less probable but incapable by us of absolute oroof. Any proofs of the development of the Ego and non-Ego" from an Ixxiv INTRODUCTION. absolute, yet given by speculative philosophy, turns out, on examination, to be a mere piece of verbalism — a formula of abstraction which leaves out the differences, and thus eviscerates the problem to bo solved, or which, confounding affirmation and negation, abolishes know- lodge. And as for a scientific solution of the problem, wo may say this at least with safety, that nono has as yet been given. Even tho lower position of a mechanical equivalent of each state of consciousness is not likely to faro better, if -we may judge from a recent attempt at a statement of the question made by a ph)rsicist of note.1 It is, first of all, broadty laid down that till wo can know of the universe is a stato of consciousness. Applying this particularly to what we speak of as tho material universe, the phenomena of nature are simply states of consciousness. At the same time, it is maintained that there is, and will ultimately bo found, '' a mechani cal equivalent " of each state of consciousness. There is " a correlation of all the phenomena of tho universe with matter and motion." This language obviously points to a dualism. What precisely is "tho mechani cal equivalent of consciousness " here referred to ? It is something in correlation with tho stato of conscious ness ; it is its mechanical equivalent, as there is a mechanical equivalent of heat. But in the same breath -wo aro told that our knowledgo is entirely re stricted to states of consciousness. Is this mechanical equivalent known to us ? In that caso, it can bo but a state of consciousness. Indeed we are expressly told that " matter" and "force," so far as known to us, and, in other words, so far as tlioy are anything to us, aro simply states of consciousness. Then what sort of mechanical equivalent or correlation havo we here ? Not two filings at all, — not tho mechanical forco and the state of consciousness, but simply two states of consciousness, tho one which wc call, viz., fooling, — 1 Professor Huxley, Lay Sermons—' Doscnrtcs,' p. 339. INTRODUCTION. 1XXV tho other which wo name its mechanical equivalent— perhaps a pound weight falling through a foot. Wo have not, therefore, explained the state of consciousness or resolved it into anything different from itself. We have simply said that one state of consciousness, which we call a mechanical equivalent, is followed by another, which wo call feeling or volition. This 'is not to explain the state of consciousness by anything in more correlation with it ; it is merely to say that there is - certain or regulated succession in the states of conscious ness themselves. But each state is as far horn beine- resolved into a correlative mechanical equivalent as over it was; nay, more, we have given up the whole hypothesis of dualism, while we retain its laim-uage and think we have effected a reconciliation of material ism and spiritualism. In saying that all we know or can know is a state of consciousness, we preclude ourselves from asserting anything that is not a state of consciousness, — and any mere hypothetical matter or force or motion which wo postulate as in correlation is illegitimately assumed as a fact— nay, illegitimately oven conceived as an idea. VIII. INNATE IDEAS. Tho predicate "innate" has been a source of cTr-at debate in connection with the philosophy of Descartes. But any one who intelligently apprehends its fbst'prin- ciples, will readily see both what it, means and what is tho extent of its application in his philosophy. It will bo found to amount to this, that, there is no mental modification whatever in our consciousness, which, ac cording to Descartes, is not innate. Itet it is innate not in tho senso of being actually developed, or an actual modification of consciousness ; innate only in fhe sense of being a potentiality capable, ot development, into a form of consciousness, yet waiting certain conditions lxxvi INTRODUCTION. ere this takes place. In this sense, every idea of per ception, and every state of sensation is innate. The supposed outward world, and the organic impressions which precede perception and sensation lie wholly beyond consciousness. Yet, but for their action in the view of Descartes, neither perception nor sensation would occur. At the same time, their influence ceases at (lie. threshold of consciousness; and when their action is completed, there original e in tlie mind out ol its own nature (bo conscious idea ol extension, and the conscious sensation of colour or sound. These ideas and sensations are. wholly innate, in the sense, that they are evolutions of the consciousness alone; that they are not transmit led to the mind by fhe action of out ward objects or by the organic impressions. They arc the forms of a new and independent power, which arise simply .on occasion of external stimuli, but which these stimuli serve in no way to create. Perceptions are innate, — due, to tlie independency of the mind, on the theory of Descartes, hardly less than they are innate on the doctrine of tho spontaneous monadic development of Leibnitz. But there is another class of mental modifications with Descartes. These aro not perceptions or sensa tions. They arc "truths," or "common notions," or universal principles, — such as the law of substance and quality and of non-contradiction. These too arc innate, — especially innate. They are innate potentialities, over and above mere perceptions or sensations. Thoy too become actual in experience — but, unliko sensation, they arc not. immediately preceded by organic impres sions. 'The moment tho doctrine of Descartes is thus correctly apprehended, flic whole polemic of Locko against " Innate Ideas " is seen to bo irrelevant. If the doctrine is to bo validly assailed, it must be on wholly other grounds than those stated by Locke.1 1 All tha*. is sl.it,r,] line v ill lie found proved and illuslval.nl in the Appendix to the present volume, Notes 1. II. and VI. See especially INTRODUCTION. lxxvii IX. MALEIiRANCIIE (1638-1715). * In accordance with the usual Hegelian formula as applied to history, an attempt is made to show that the system of Descartes is part of the evolution ol what is called "thought." It is assumed, accordingly, that there is but a single conception at fhe root of Ihe philosophy of DescartcH, — that this runs all through his thinking, — and that it is carried to its necessary development by tho forco of "the immanent dialectic," through Jteiie- braiieho and Spinny.a. One of I lie, worst, features of tho Hegelian mode of looking- at tho histoiy of speculation comes out here. Assuming that speculative thought develops necessarily through a scries of specified mo ments, it must either find the single moment in a given system or reject the system as unspeculative. The result of this method is, on the one hand, an attempt to make a system express one of the moments ; or, on tho other, arrogantly to pass by flic system as of no account. We havo thus frequently instead of " pure thought" pure phantasy iu dealing with a system of philsophy, and a wilful blindness to the facts of history and experience. In the ease of Descartes the Hegelian mistake is twofold. It is wrongly assumed that the philosophy of Descartes represents a, single thought, or a single moment of thought, and it either incorrectly pp. 27S, 279, 2S7. These nre now reproduced exactly as they cupeiied in the Appendix lo the Translation of The Me.iilotiine, published ,n 1853. The int'onnat.ion therein contained, and Ihe relative passages, havo since been generally utilised Ly writers on Pe, car!,-, and Carle. siani.sm ; and not unfrcqucnlly the quotations are credited L, those who thus make use of Ihem as introduced for the first time info uur Car tesian literature 1 His writings appeared from 167-1 to 1715. Spino.'.i lived frmn 1632-1677. His writings appeared from 1663 to li '77. Jlaleln-auchc, as in some respects nearer in doctrine to Descartes, is fuel con sidered. lxxviii INTRODUCTION. i«» s°a5;rib8B th8 mai- tho"s" *•> *¦"- With Descartes, according to Hegel, wo have to re bnm„,g. ih0 spmt of the hi] Descartes is conscio,isness as the unity of thouglit and being d Th of tl l^'^fophy of Descartes has the meaning of thought, not the individuality (Einzelnhcit) of seh- consciousness.- Descartes aimonl* in „„ ¦ zz;;:r i ifci or at w at th° i-i-^ioL Tf philosophy. He does not at first properly state tho rnncrlo out of which the whole LLt\KZt) of philosophy is to bo derived. The idcn.ity of 1 eii,. and tho,,gl,t,_a],ogctl,er the most interesting ideTof modern tmlcs,_Descartes has not farther proved but nd n "us8lnS f ^i1 al°in6 aPPCaled t0 -nseiol ^ and piovis onally placed it in the front. For with Descartes tlie necessity is not in any way prcsenTo develop difference out of the "I think." Fichte fir st proceeded to this, and out of this point of absolute certainty to derive all determinations) Then of course we mus expect to find that Descartes takes being in te wholly positive sense, and has no conception that it is the negative of self-consciousness.* Then there is constant talk of tho puro consciousness contained' in the concrete < I." And Descartes is criticised in respec" that the certainty of self-consciousness does not pro perly pass over to truth, or the determined. This passing over is done " externally" and reflectively only Consciousness does not determine itself. « In plain language, the whole basis and method of Descartes are criticised from an assumption that human knowledge is possible from a mere universal or abstract i XYerke, xy. p. W0.-Gesch. d. Phil. Descartes. ^.f.P-308. a nu, „. p. 310. luul " Ibid., p. 313. INTKODUGTION. Ixxix something called pure thought, or the pure conscious ness of the "I,"— above altogether, in the first place at least, ordinary consciousness or knowledge. This system is not only unvindicablo in itself and its prin ciples, but it has really no connection, logical or his torical, with the true system of Descartes. Nothing, for example, can be more out of place historically than to connect Descartes with Fichte, or to suppose that the system of the latter is any way a fair logical evolu tion from that of tho former, It is even ludicrous to set up this so-called Hegelian development of " reason," and by virtue of the gathered power of a word, whoso connotation is altogether different from the Hecclian, to ask us to renounce the experiential method of Descartes and nearly the whole of subsequent modern philosophy. It is a complete mistake historically to assume that tho moment of Cartesianism is consciousness, — spoken of in the vague generality with which Hegel deals with it. The consciousness of Descartes is a self- guaran teeing principle, — which is a great deal more than Hegel has vindicated or can vindicate for his Pure Beiiv>- In truth, the first principle of Descartes is not con sciousness properly speaking, but self- consciousness, — tested experimentally and found self- guaranteeing. Self-consciousness was never more truly or fully ap preciated than in the system of Descartes. It is. if anything is, his most vitalising thought. And if the system of Descartes bo one thoroughly of self-con sciousness, neither that of Kant nor that of Fichte can be so- described. The basis of Fichto's system is an absolute Ego, of which the Ego of consciousness is at best phenomenal; and the real Ego of Kant is wholly noumenal, not in phenomenal consciousness at all, while his phamomenal Ego has but a generic or logical identity. For do later attempts to find the one thought of Des cartes fare better. To say absolutely that'" Descartes lxxx INTHODTJCTION. staled a thought which was legitimately developed by iUalebranclm aud Spinoza is thoroughly misleading. J. here are points in Descartes which were fairly enough. dove oped by these later thinkers ; there are others which wore Jiot. There are important points, in tho philosophy 0f Descartes which were not touched by either. Descartes thought was manifold ; and so must be its developments. The r,im of Descartes was, no doubt, to find abso lutely ultimate truth and certainty, as guaranteed bv tho reflect tvo analysis of consciousness— to obtain therein a criterion of truth and falsehood-awl, if possible to ' cyclop l,.y demonstration from (ho single ultimate fact Miolr.il.li about the world and God,-a„d thus to sub ordinate and correlate the tmilis of philosophy. Put tho peculiarity (,f Desea.rl.es was not, as wo have seen, so much tins aim— which is the common one of specula tive systems— as Ids method of seeking it, in an exam ination ot consciousness, and finding it in the principle of limit to conscious thought. It is this point of limit winch, in a speculative view, is fhe peculiarity of Car- tesianisin ; and it is this exactly which, in the' so-called evolution ol h,s thouglit, Malebranchc partially and unconsciously, and Spinoza wholly and consciously souglit to reverse. If the reversal of a position, and, . .1 should add, tho illegitimate reversal, is a develop ment, we have tho highest reach of Cartesianism in Spinoza. Spinoza developed Descartes by amending the nrmula cog, to ergo sum, into cogito erqo non sum. ' I ho truth is, that both Malebranche and Spinoza seized on those subordinate points in the philosophy of Descartes which tended to lower human activity and personality, and in different ways sought to ascribe all real efficacy or causality to a Power above and outside of man. Malebranchc certainly kept up the conception of a Personal Deity as the Supreme Cause, though inconsistently with his conception of Deity as mere indeterminate or unrestricted being. Spinoza held INTRODUCTION. Ixxxi by an Indeterminate Substance. It is doubtful, how ever, whether Malebranchc, in virtually annihilating human personality in experience, had any right there after to speak of a Divine Personality ; and certainlv Spinoza precluded himself even from the conception of a Finite Personality by placing at the source of the universe of Being mere indeterminate Substance. There would bo an inconsistency on the. doctrine of either in making this Divine or Substantial Power all, and at tho same timo holding Mini folic something — eilher a spontaneous agent, a responsible power, or even a being- ill any way resembling the living reality of human cu'i- sciousness. On one cardinal point of IVscartos — the knowlede-o of mind iu consciousness, and the o.ni'olliny that tlie soul is butler and more, clearly known than bode — Malebranchc entirely differs from him. Matebraneho maintains that wo have no idea, of the mind, and therefore no clear knowledge of it. Wo know it only through internal sentiment — that is, consciousness ; but wo have no proper idea of it. Our know lei.go of bod v or extension, on the other hand, is by means of idea ; and hence it, is a clearer knowledge than that of tlie soul. As if, forsooth, in the consciousness of extension, 1 lie ex tension or object were clearer than the conscious act of apprehension. We know, however, by this inner feeling or consciousness, that tho soul is ; but we do not know what it is. His practical test of the superior clearness of our knowledge of extension is, that extension hieing in idea, we can evolve or deduce from the idea of it alone all its numerous properties and relations: whereas from the so-called idea of the soul we can deduce, none of its properties — either pleasure, pain, or any other.1 Malebranche thus, instead of advancing on Descartes in a legitimate and necessary manner, simply deviated wholly from the spirit and procedure of the Method. 1 licclierehe ae la YCrUl, lib. iii. pt. ii. chap, vii., with tho relative Eclatrcisscmcnt. Ixxxil INTRODUCTION. He regarded a method of deduction and demonstra tion as the only truly philosophical. He was wholly misled by the analogy of mathematics, as Descartes himself partly was, and sought to deal with the range of knowledge, as a geometer may deal with tho pro perties of space which he borrows and defines. But there is no true analogy. Given space, we can ovolvo its properties, for wo need not proceed beyond itself, save by way of limit, and limit of spaco is itself space. Given an abstract Ego, it must always remain such. Given a conscious Ego, it is me-consoious, and con scious in one definite way. And let this be know ledge of an object, wo cannot proceed merely from this to evolve cither desiro or volition, or any property specifically distinct from knowledge. We must wait the development of consciousness itself, for our know ledge, even conception, of those new modes. We oan no more do this than the physical philosopher can,^ from the sight of a definite kind and quantity of motion, predict its passage into light or heat, before he has any experience of such a transition. The light or heat are sensations of a specifically different kind from the modes of motion, regarded as objects of vision. And these, therefore, it is impossible a priori to predict —impossible even a priori to conceive. Malebranche shows himself distinctly aware of this in relation to mind. " The soul knows not that it is capable of this or that sensation by any view it takes of itself, but by experience ; on the other hand, it knows that extension is capable of an infinite number of figures by the idea representative of extension. . . . We cannot give a definition which shall explain the modifications of the soul. ... It is evident that if a man had never seen colour nor felt heat, he could not bo made to understand those sensations by any definition." 1 But while thus speaking, Malebranche discredited entirely the philo sophical method, — the spirit of reflection and the analysis 1 llecherchc, lib, iii. pt. ii. chap, vii, INTRODUCTION. lxxxiii of consciousness on which Descartes relied for the foundations of his philosophy, and which were des tined to bring men face to face with the real facts of montal life. Malebranche, in so doing, left himself no basis for his own deduction, and no guaranteed law or method of deduction. The alleged advance on Descartes, or carrying out of Cartesian principles by Malebranche, is simple, and in many respects irrelevant enough. Descartes' dualism of thought and extension was his preliminary difficulty and puzzle. How can these disparate sub stances bo connected in knowledge? Instead of re cognising tho artificial nature of the difficulty, ho admitted it as real, and sought to solve il. Tho soul can but perceive that which is immediately united with it.1 Things that are corporeal cannot be imme diately perceived. Everybody, it seems, admits this. And what is the solution? Sense and imagination give us. one set of modes of consciousness or thoughts about this extended world. These are sentiments — in a word, sensations-— such as light, colour, heat, pleasure, and pain. These are not in body ; they tell us nothing of its nature ; they are relative simply to our bodily organisation. They have a reality only in us, yet we do not produce them. They are caused in us by God Himself; He is the only and the efficient cause of our sensations. Because, according to the view of Malebranche, God is the only real and efficient cause in the universe. De la Forge, Cordemoy, and Geulincx, had more or less anticipated tho doctrine of Occasional Causes. They all felt, as Malebranche himself did, that invariable sequence or correspondence is no true causality. It is a proof simply that causality is in operation ; but it is not the causality itself. They had applied this doctrine to the connection between mind and body. It was reserved for Maicbrancho to apply it universally to 1 Rcclicrchc, lib. iii. pt. ii. chap, i, sect. 1. V lxxxiv INTRODUCTION. the relations of all created things or phmnomena of the universe No finite being, according to Malebranche, be it mind or body or extra-organic object, can act on any other with a true efficiency. There is harmony or correspondenco in their manifestations, but that is .all. God alone is the efficient cause at work in the world. Things aro occasions ; their manifestations aro subject to definite laws or decrees; the Divine Power is the only sufficient agency in tho world,— whother it relate to the production of perceptions, or tho realisa tion of volitions. Mind is purely passive, whothor there, be organic change in the body, or whether even there be resolution. The nervous action, on which tho realisation of volition depends, is wholly unknown to us. Wo have thus no power over it ; no more power than we have over the organic impressions which are tlie occasion of sensation. God is all in all,— operating efficiently in and through all. A bad psychology, or rather an unwarrantable deduction, had thus destroyed the activity of knowledge and the reality of freedom and the force of personality. But we have more than sensations ; wo have ideas. These are in the sphere of the Pure Understanding. They are the immediate objects of the act of perception ; and they are distinct from bodies. Extension, figure, motion — these are not sensations ; they are ideas. " In perceiving anything of- a sensible nature, two things occur in our perception, — Sensation and Pure Idea. Tho sensation is a modification of our soul, and God causes it m us. . . . Tlie idea, which is joined to the sensation, is in God ; and we see it, because it pleases Him to reveal it to us. God connects tho sensation with the idea, when the objects are present."1 But whence come ideas? Malebranche exhausts the pos sibilities of their origin by a comprehensive statement. The possible explanations aro as follow : (1.) Ideas come from bodies. (2.) The soul has the power of 1 Recherche, lib. iii. pt. ii. chap. vi. INTRODUCTION. lxxxv producing them. (3.) God produces them in the soul at its creation. (4.) God produces them whenever ZU TJT 0bJceCt- (5>) Th6 S°U1 has or sees ^ itself all the perfections of bodies. (6.) Tho soul is united to an all-perfect being who embraces the ideas or perfections of created things.1 Ho concludes by adopting the last solution that tho soul is united to a supremely Perfect Being, who contains the ideas of all created beings. It therefore sees all ideas in God Ihe fimto is in tho bosom of the infinite. lie is the place of spirits, as spaco is tho place of bodies ; and we are immediately conscious of the ideas of tho qualifies of body in God Himself.2 Yot wo havo a higher assurance of Ihe reality of (he idea than of the quality or body which the idea repre sents. Ihe idea is external to us, yet it is surely known m God; but the world of material reality which the ideas represent is only a probable inference from the reality of the ideas themselves. " It is not neces- m17,, sat^ el'e sh°llM be Chilis without like to the idea. Ihe only reality which is the object of pcrcep- tion-that is, of which we are immediately coonisa/it and certain-is the idea itself. And we must not sun- pose that these ideas are identical with tho Divine sub stance or essence ; they express only certain of His relations to His creatures. The consciousness, accord ingly, of me, the finite, in apprehending those idca= would be inaccurately described as identical with the iJivme consciousness. In knowing those ideas I am as far from tho real inner essence of tee Divine conscious ness, as I am from the reality of tho thine- represented He says, ",t , is not properly to see God, to see tho creatures m Hun. It is not to sec His essence to see tho essences of creatures in His substance."1 All that 1 Recherche, lib. iii. pt, ii. chap. i. tcct. 2. 2 Ibid., lib. iii. chap. i. and vi. 3 Ibid., lib. iii. pt. ii, chap. i. sect. 1. 4 Kclaircisscmcnt, cm Visien in God INTRODUCTION. be alleged is, that I the percipient and Deity have inmon object of knowledge in the idea. o far we can attach a mcaniDg to this system. But question arises, What does this vision of all things tod precisely mean ? Does it refer to the perception he qualities of body, however numerous, passing, dngent these may be, in time and space ? Are the s perceived in God as numerous as the actual lities or things of experience ? Then, what becomes ho unity and indivisibility of Deity ? What is He his case but another name for the sum of our experi- 3 ? What is He but peopled space and time ? Or 3 tho vision in Deity refer merely to tho laws and 'is of things under which perception and thought are •hblo ? idulebrancho vacillates on this point. But vas finally driven to the latter conception. His idea lod came to mean the essence or type of the thing ; he names it intelligible extension. It is this idea oh is in God, and which we see in God. Along h it God determines in us certain passing sensations uch as colour, sound, heat, or cold. These are in consciousness, though confused ; the idea is in 1. It is the permanent essence. But what is intelligible extension? Is it extension — that is, co, without limit or figure — conceived as infinite? this identical with the ideas of our perception? If how? Is this the world we are supposed to per- ,re in the representative idea? The idea of the ired, definite, limited? Again, what is the connec- l between this ideal and the real extension ? Between co conceived a.s empty, and space perceived as filled h matter ? The truth is, that such a position cannot vindicated consistently with the facts of the intui- lal consciousness. It means simply abstract or void ce, and this is as far from tho reality of the world, possibility is from actuality, or absolute monotony n tho variety of experience. \s to the nature of our knowledge of God, Malebranche INTRODUCTION. Jxxxvii differed in one important respect from Descartes ; though whether it was an advance or the reverse is matter of question. Descartes distinguished the idea from the -reality of the supremely perfect, and made the reality an inference from the idea. But just as Malebranche held that the soul is not known through idea, he held that Deity, or the Being of Beings, the supremely Perfect, is not known by us through idea. It is not conceivable that anything created can represent the infinite ; that being without restriction, the immense being, can bo perceived by an idea, that is, by a parti cular being and a being different from tho universal and infinite being.1 One might suppose that, in this caso our knowledge of the supremely Pcit'cct would be obscure, liko our knowledge of the soul itself. But no. Tho soul is immediately united with tho substance of God Himself; we thus know Plim as Ho is in Himself. On occasion of every apprehension of sensation even, or of bodily movement, wo know the infinite. "If I think the infinite, tho infinite is." This is the sole demon stration of Malebranche. Yet even whilo he seems to unite tho finite consciousness to the divine substance, in order that, as more than finite, it may know this substance or itself, it turns out that it does not wholly know the substance ; our apprehension is not infinite ; we are, therefore, less than the infinite is. This, then, is another and higher vision in God. The soul is now immediately cognisant of God in his essence ; and, though only in a limited way, we thus see the infinite perfections of Deity and their relations. We see ideas, principles eternal and immutable ; we per ceive also truths — that is, the relations of those ideas. This is Reason — which is absolutely imp, rsoiial — com mon to all intelligences, human and divine. It is manifested in the form of speculative or metaphysical laws, and in that of practical or moral laws. The founor aro modifications of the idea of quantify, subsisting be- 1 Recherche, lib. iii. pt. ii. chap. vii. lxxxvm INTRODUCTION. iween ideas of the same nature ; tho latter of perfection >r graduated order among beings of different natures. Malebranche here made an advance beyond Descartes. Fhe latter had founded the distinctions of truo and also, right and wrong, beautiful and deformed, on tho nere will of God. Malebranche very properly depart ed from this position, and founded those distinctions ui the intelligence of Deify itself. The ono supremo liing- in the universe is the sovereignty of the Poason. It, bends lo the will neither of man nor of God. But there is in, filing to show that he connects the doctrine 1 the Impersonal Reason with the hypothesis — -the identity of the human consciousness with the divino substance or consciousness. This is not at all neces sary to his doctrino, and it is not legitimately involved in it. On the contrary, our knowledge of the infinite is with him never coextensive with the reality. The fair issue of the doctrino of Malebranchc regarding the infinite, which, to be intelligible, means the principle of universal truths, is that there is a common knowledge between man and God, But to say that tho conscious ness I am and experience, is the consciousness of God, or God's consciousness of Himself, is to assumo this convertibility, and it is eilher to abolish mo altogether, or to abolish God; for it gives me a God convertible with till the conditions and limitations in essence and m time of a temporal consciousness. The utmost, identity predicablc. in such a caso is a merely logical or generic identify. The human and the divine possess common laws of knowledge. This no more proves the identity of the human and divino intelligence, as existences, than the community of tho laws of knowledge among human intclligcnts dcslroj's the individuality and variety of tho selfhood of each. The whole Question as to tho relation of me, the bein"- m tune, to an llfernal Being, stands just where it was. if w\ INTRODUCTION. lxxxix -*?y .*¦¦ u i,V X. Sl'INOZA (1632-1677) RELATIONS TO DESCARTES. Leibnitz, speaking of the philosophy of Descartes, said it was tho antechamber of the truth.1 At another time, he tells us that Spiuozism is an exaggerated Cartesianism (le Spinozisme est un Cartesiauismc outre)} Again, he says, "Spinoza has cultivated only certain seeds of tho philosophy of Descartes."3 There can, I think, bo no doubt that Spinoza was stimulated to speculation by Descartes; and also that be found in Dosoarfos' writings certain points which, "when exclu sively considered, fended to suggest, his own doctrines as a complement or development. But that he truly interpreted tho main and characteristic features oi the philosophy of Descartes, or carried out its proper ten dency, or logically added to it certain results, I emphat ically deny. In the first place, Descartes1 philosophy is by method distinctly one of intuition and experience. Fo one can read the Method without feeling that the writer is seek ing relief from scholasticism, and that you have done with the schoolmen — with their abstractions and their deductions. Tho healthy breath of modern experimental thought is there. You feel it in the cngi/o ,rgo sum — in the criterion of clearness and distinctness of id,. as — and particularly in his first proof of the existence of God, founded on tho fact of the personal existence and v,-; imperfection of being revealed in human consciousness.-1 But Spinoza absolutely disdains experience and observa tion. To him a conviction or fact of consciousness, how ever deeply or thoroughly tested, by analytic reflection is nothing. Ho no doubt speaks of his philosophical method as reason founded on immediate intuition; but 1 Mire d un ami sur le C'ar/esianisme, 160.",, prd., p. 123. 2 Tticodie.ee, Part III. 8 Retire d M. L'Althi Kimise, 16117, prd., p. PtO. 4 See tho Method, p. lot. and a iunnnary stateiiKiil in Appendix p. 267 cl scq. XC INTRODUCTION. when wo come to examine his intuition, it turns out to be merely definition — and arbitrary definition. There is no analysis of consciousness whatever^ no founding on intuition or fact. It is the method of Pure Eeason all through — a return, disguise it as you may, to tho method of scholastic abstraction and deduction. Spinoza pro fesses to deduce the facts of consciousness, and con sciousness itself, from the infinite substance and its attributes. And ho holds, with Malebranche, that know ledge through consciousness and of the facts of con sciousness is obscure and confused. Descartes no doubt aimed at deduction, but it was a deduction professedly founded on facts of consciousness as the clearest sphere of human knowledge. At the samo time, he exaggerated the importance and the use of it ; and there is an obvious tendency, especially in the Principles, to supersede his original or intuitive method by the demonstrative or deductive, — to fall away, in fact, from the investigation of the real into the shadowy sphere of the abstract. At the same time, the order of the Principles may fairly enough be re garded as merely a synthetic way of putting the results of a foregone analysis. If Spinozism be regarded as in method a development of Descartes, it was not of his original aud fruitful method, but of his later unfaith fulness in the use of that method. Descartes' alienation from his original method of con scious verification arose mainly from his assuming that whatever is clearly and distinctly conceived in the idea of an object may be predicated as really true of that object. This, with all its obvious fallacy and confusion, was adopted by Spinoza, and carried to exaggeration by him, with a thorough indifference to the psychological method of Descartes, the only means of giving the idea truth, or relevancy to fact. With such a postulate, it is easy to sco how Spinoza proceeded. We have only to get tho preliminary idea of all things as clear and distinct, and then from this we can readily evolve all INTRODUCTION. xei subsequent ideas or conceptions. The universe will then be comprehended by us not in its parts merely, but as a whole. The beginning of all will be grasped, and each part of the whole will bo apprehended in its relation to the preceding part, and thus to the first of things. It will, accordingly,, be known truly for what it is, because it will be known in all its actual relations to preceding facts, and in all its possible relations to succeeding developments. This is, no doubt, a very fine conception of the aim of human knowledge. Whether it is merely a dream or a reality is, of course, a matter of argument. If wo could reach a. knowledge of the absolute totality of being, or of tho universe at any given point in its development, we should gain o knowledge which is absolutely convertible with all pos sible knowledge in each given stage ; and if wo could thus follow the evolutions, we should make our know ledge convertible with, or representative of, the whole of actual and possible being. But such an ideal of know ledge is impossible, unless on the assumption that the totality of being can be first grasped by definition, as figure in mathematics, find its various possible com binations therefrom evolved. And this is merely to assume in method or premisses what requires to be proved in result or conclusion. What would bo mu test of the completeness or adequacy of our definition ? What, then, would bo the guarantee of the totality of our knowledge in any given stage? The assumption of a causal relation between tho stages does not help us, for we have to ascertain in the first stage tho totality of the cause. And here, even on Spinoza's own admission, the doctrine must be held to break down. For while the first substance possesses an infinity of attributes, of these we know only two — extension and thought. It is thus utterly impossible for us, through the grasp of these partial forms of being, to conceive all thing, and follow tho evolutions of its totality. This would be merely an illogical identification of the part with the INTRODUCTION. whole, — reasoning, in fact, from the finitude of our knowledge to the mfmitudo of things. Of course. Spinoza grandly distinguishes this demon strative inetbod of knowledge from that of vulgar opinion and belief. This is partial and abstract, and worth nothing. It docs not see the connections of things, and thus fails of their truth. It proceeds without ex amination or reflection. It accepts common opinions. Spinoza's whole writing of this sort has been relegated long ago to tho limbo of misconception, and should havo been left there. If has been slated over and over again by the opponents of a demonstrative system of philo sophy, that the alternative alone conceived by Spinoza, and alone contemplated by those who virtually accept his method, is a simple, caricature of the method which they follow. It has been shown repeatedly that tho common opinions of mankind (or the common-sense of mankind, as it is called), form simply the materials of philosophical analysis and criticism. Hamilton, for example, tells us most explicitly that philosophy is not to be constituted by " an appeal to the undeveloped beliefs of the irreilectivc many," but "through a critical analvsis of those beliefs." l Wo may therefore set aside as utterly beside the point, as, in fact, due cither to ignorance or perversion, the misrepresentations of tho method of tho psychological school constantly made by followers of Spinoza and Hegel. Tho question as to whether wc can grasp tho universe as a whole of de velopment cannot even be fairly approached, until tho upholders of the al'firmativo position show that they Understand the nature of the psychological method. What gives 11. somewhat, ludicrous aspect to this mis represent alien of the psychological method, is the fact that when wo come to examine closely certain points in the deductive systems, we, find thai, whilo despising pysehology. they have really nothing to give us except this very common - sense of mankind which they so i Reids Wurles, p. 7f>-. See especially Note A, § iii. INTRODUCTION. Xciii haughtily reject. Spinoza, for example, tho ideal of the man who had a contempt for common-sense and all its accessories, is found after all to be dependent on it for Jus selection of tho fundamental notions of his system It appears that in his review of tho notions current among mankind thero are some which arc inadequate and confused; others which aro clear and distinct Among tee former class aro Being, Something, Freedom. hinal Cause; whilo among the clear and distinct are' GauKO, Substance, God, or the Infinite Substance When wo seek for some sort, of test of this apparently arbitrary selection, we find that fhe former aie, rele gated to unreality and untruthfulness, because thev aro notiimcs univcrsales merely — meaning, possible generalisations. But the others, such as Substance and Cause, are held to be clear and true, because they are notioncs communes ; and when we ask what the moaniire- of this is, we find that they are something common to all minds and all things.1 What is this but an appeal to the common-sense of mankind, and in its unscientific and irreflective form? If, moreover, wc apply tie test of community in things to the relegated notions of Being- or Something, it will certainly occur to us that the distinction is one rather of caprice and i.eiulanee than of logical or consistent thought. Freedom and 1'mal Cause stood rather in tho wav of his deduction • by all means, therefore, let them be sot aside as obscure and confused. Tho truth is, that anv deductive system is nothing more. than a mere hypothesis, or has no basis higher than unsifted data, so long as it is not .o, .muled on direct and complete psychological analysis of the fids But even this misrepresentation is comparatively ot littlo moment when we look on the deductive systems —such as that of Spinoza— in relation lo the full con- tents of the human consciousness. It is here i\v. prin ciple of their method reduces itself to an absolute con- ' Eihiea, II. props, xsxvii. xvxvui. Compare T.e«v-., Ilistorv or Philosophy, u. pp. 220, 221. ' 7 v XC1V INTRODUCTION. tradiction. Tho data which tho method assumes, and from which it proceeds to develop the univorso of boing, have no higher guaranteo than thoso very faots of human consciousness relating to Personality, Freedom, and Morality, which they undoubtedly subvert. It is here that the common experience of mankind, when psychologically tested as fact, comes into collision with the conclusions of tho deductivo system ; and ere the facts of common experience aro swept away, it must be shown that the so-called ideas of Substance and Cause have any higher or other guarantee in our consciousness than these other ideas, and aro entitled lo override them. What guarantee can any philosophy give for the idea of Substance, for example, or oven Puro Being or Puro Thought, which cannot be equally, even more, given for Personality and Freedom? I do not mean the Spinozistic or Hegelian caricatures of those ideas, but the concep tions of them actually given or implied in consciousness. A deductive system which sweeps away these con ceptions must, in its spirit of superior wisdom, show how mankind, in their whole history and highest purposes and actions, have been deluded into believing themselves as more than the mere necessitarian movements with consciousness which Spinoza and Hegel allow them to bo. But even if it can show this, it must do it at the expenso of allowing the principles of moral action and of true speculative thought, to bo, as a matter of fact, in diametrical contradiction. When tho contest takes this form, wo know which side must speedily go to the wall. But take the method of Spinoza as a whole. What is tho assumption on which it proceeds? Entirely tho geometric method of conception, borrowed no doubt from things both latent and expressed in tho writings of Descartes; This means postulates, definitions, and axioms. The geometrical definitions refer to one uniform idea, manifesting itself in various forms, but novel" tran scending itself. This conception is the idea of extension, INTRODUCTION. XCV coexistent points, or magnitude. It begins with the elementary perception of point, or tho minimum risihik; it goes on to the generation of line, and then of surface, or what we .know ordinarily as extension. Now wo need not consider either the source of the conceptions of point, line, and surface, or tho guarantee of them. It is sufficient for our purpose at present to note that thoso are capablo of definition, and that the knowledge which admits of boing deduced from them, or the notion at tho root of them, never passes beyond the initial con ception. It is extension of line and surface at first ; it is this and its relations all through. In fact, we are hero dealing with abstractions. The definitions are abstractions, or, if you choose, constructions bom data, — elementary data of sense. These data are unchange able, irreversible by us, and hence they and their rela tions may be said to be necessary. Given certain de finitions, we may, by means of postulate and axiom, work out the consequent truths or deductions to their utmost result as ideal combinations. This is the geometrical method. But is such a method at all possible either in Physics or in Metaphysics ? Here, confessedly, we deal with tho real or concrete. We have to look at the con tents of experience — of space and time; at what we call the phenomenal world ; and wc have to consider the relations of the parts of this -world to the preceding parts, and to each other, as it were, all around. We havo to look at it in time and space, This is the phy sical point of view. Metaphysically, we must still keep in view this concrete world. But the metaphysical questions relate to tho nature of its reality, its origin, order, development. What it is, whence it is, how it has become, whither it is tending, — these questions can not bo discussed without dealing in the same, way with tho world of consciousness— with the nature-, origin, and destiny of the Self or Fgo in consciousness — as far as this may bo competent and consistent, with the condi tions of intclligibilitv. Without doubt those contents XCV1 INTRODUCTION. are in time, or in timo and space. They are tho mate rials which wo havo to examine— if possible, to deduce in their order. Wo have to show, in fact, on such a method, tho causal relations of the whole terms of reality ; wo have to show also the necessary connection of every idea — certainly of every universal idea, be it form of perception or oi thought proper— in tho human consciousness. Wo must, in a word, deduco from somo primary conception — some primary possibility, clearly and distinctly conceived, the typical idea, at least in every physical generalisation, the universal law or con dition which is in every act of human cognition. Now the question is, Is the method of Spinoza — is, in fact, any deductive method whatever — ablo to do this? Let us look at the physical problem as under taken by the deductive method. " Eeal and physical things," Spinoza tells us, "cannot be understood so long as their essence is unknown. If we leave ossences out of view, the necessary connection of ideas which should reproduce the necessary connection of objects is destroyed." x Now we shall not ask the method to condescend to the contingent facts of time and space — to the passing individuals of tho moment. We shall test it simply by general ideas. We shall ask it to show that one form of concrete being can be the ground of tho anti cipation or prediction of another, which we have not yet experienced as following from it, or in connec tion with it. Would tho clear and distinct knowledge of the constituent elements of a body enable us in any case beforehand to predict its sensible effect, provided this effect is specifically different in its appearance to the senses from the original body or cause? In the case, for example, of two given chemical elements, could any analysis of these enable us even to conceive or to anticipate, far less determine necessarily— apart from cxpeiieneo of the actual sequence — tho character 1 De. Intelkclu-s ICmcndationc, s. 95 INTRODUCTION, XCVli of the new resultant body? Even snpposo there wore the most perfect mathematical knowledge of the pro portions of the elements, would it be possible to pass from this numerical knowledgo to the new object— say from two gases to the fluid wo call water? No scien tific inquirer would maintain such a position, and ho would be wholly right. _ But the ease is much stronger when wo have a sen sible body appreciable by one senso the effect of which is an impression or quality apprehensible only bv another senso. Suppose wo havo a complete appre hension of tho particular molecular motion which precedes the sensation of heat, should wo be able simply from this knowledgo to predict, even conceive, the wholly new sensation absolutely apart from any- given sequence in which it, occurred ? The thine: is im possible. Ivfotion is an object of one sense, heal, of an other. In other words, there must be an appeal to a now form of organic susceptibility. The same is true of the vibration preceding sound; of tho molecular motion issuing in light or colour; of tho pain or plea sure we feel from sensational stimuli; of every effect, of food, or poison, on the human organisation ; indeed,' of the whole sphere of physical causality. The truth' is, that if this method of deduction were possible in a single instance, there would bo no logical barrier to our deduction of the whole ideas embodied in the laws of the physical universe out of tho primordial atoms And if the impossibility of anticipation hold in one case, it will hold in all. Hence the conclusion is obvious, that even if we knew the actual state of the totality of phamomena in the world at any given time wo should be utterly unable to predict through this its actual stato in the, subsequent moment. But an abso lutely demonstrative physics is about tho vainest of dreams. Physical sequences cannot oven be am ieh ,a! ed after tins fashion ; far less can thoy bo necessarily tie- tcrmined. xcvm INTRODUCTION. But does this method fare any better in Metaphysics in the hands of Spinoza ? 1. Its first requirement is clear and distinct ideas of what are assumed as ultimate metaphysical conceptions, — the prima possibilia of Leibnitz. This knowledge is given in the form of definitions, — eight in number. Wc have definitions, among others, of Cause (self-cause), Substance, Attribute, Mode, God, Eternity. Of these tho primary idea, as shown in the propositions which follow, is Substance. God is defined " as tho being abso lutely infinite — i.e., the substance consisting of hifinite attributes, each of which expresses an infinite and eter nal essence." And wo are told that "that which is absolutely infinite, includes in its essenco everything which implies essenco and involves no negation." x 2. It is assumed that what is involved in these def initions, and capable of being evolved out of them, according to a process of reasoning or manipulation of the terms, constitutes our knowledge of the whole called the Universo of Being. 3. It is assumed, further, that we can gain by this process new and explicit conceptions of tho variety of the contents of the Universe : can, in fact, determine what they are, can only be, and must be. This knowledge comprises both material and spiritual reality ; both the spheres of extension and thought or consciousness. Now, first, looking at these definitions, will it be said that wo have anything like a clear and distinct knowledge of the meaning even implied in the terms in which they are, couched? Take, for example, the def inition of substance, which is really at the root of tho whole matter. Spinoza tells us that by substanco ho understands " thai which exists in itself and is con ceived per se; '' in other words, "that tho conception of which can be formed without need of tho conception of are/thing else."'2 As thus staled, there can of course bo' but one substance. Have wo oven any such con- i Ktliica, P. I. De Deo. Def. vi. 2 Ethica, Def. iii. INTRODUCTION. ception as this ? Is this expression more than a rncro form of words? Is there anything in experience or consciousness into which these terms can be trans lated? Consciousness, which is all-embracing, implies discrimination of thinker and thought or object,— a rela tion between knower and known. Can an object cor responding to the terms of a substance existing in itself, and conceived per se, appear or bo in my con sciousness ? There can be nothing before it ; there can be nothing else along with it ; it must bo at once thinker and thought, It must bo the simple indiffer ence of subject and object, absolutely beyond every form of predication. Is tho realisation of such an object in our consciousness compatiblo with tho conditions of intelligibility or meaning ? Yet it is of this we are said to havo a clear and distinct idea :• — and it is from this that we are able to deduce the Universe of Being. Now, let us compare this conception of Substance with the same notion in tho system of Descartes. "By Sub stance we can conceive nothing clso than a thing which exists in such a way as to stand in need of nothing beyond itself in order to its existence. And in truth there can be conceived but one Substance which is absolutely independent, and that is God. We perceive that all other things can exist only by help of the con course of God. And accordingly, the term Substance does not apply to God and the creatures uiiivocilly.'' Again, ho says : " By the name God, I understand a Substanco which is infinite [eternal, immutable], all- knowing, all-powerful, and by which I my.-,, If and everything that exists, if any such there be, was created."1 lie tells us that " Substance cannot be first discovered merely from its being a thing which exists independently, for oxistenco by itself is not apprehended by us. We oasily, however, discover substance hself from any attribute of it, by this common notion, that of nothing there can be no attributes, properfie-, or qu.di- 1 lithica, Deb. III., p. 15; eonipere Appendix, p. -.Mo. 0 C INTRODUCTION. ties ; for, from perceiving that some attribute is present, we mfcr that some existing- thing or substance to which it may be attributed is also of neoessitv present."1 This is obviously a totally different conception from that of Spmoza. Descartes denies entirely tho apprehension or conceptual of being- per se. Even his infinite Sub stance implies predication and relation. And the notion Substanco implies experience to begin with, and a ro- hlioii involved in expeiicnee. Here, at least, the con difions of intelligibility are not violated. Wo can put a meaning info the words without intellectual felo de se. And yet, we are bid that Spinoza simply carried out tho principles of Descartes, if to reverse the principles of a system as a starling-point is to carry them out to their logical results, Spinoza has that merit. What he did really was to take one element of a complete experience, or implicate of experience, and to set up, as a first or starting point, the abstraction which he illegitimately severed from the intelligible conditions recognised by Descartes. But what of the relation of those ideas to experience or reality? Are they adequate conceptions of what is? They are conceptions or definitions, no doubt, framed by the mind ; and by help of postulates and axioms all their implied relations can bo evolved out of them. But what then ? Do they or their relations touch experience at all ? Supposing we get the primary conception of all things, Ihe question arises, What is the relation of the concep tions following this and flowing from it to the order of fnngs? Now here wc have the gross incongruity of tlie Spmo/.istic method. One might have expected that, if clear and distinct conceptions are to bo set at tho bead of reality, clear and distinct conceptions following them in necessary order would have been all that is necessary, or at least all that we could legitimately get from such a hypothesis. But no. It seems that those ideas are essentially representative of things. The def- i Principles, P. I., s, 51, 52. INTRODUCTION. CI initions or hypotheses set at the head of the system express the essence, tho inner nature of things — other wise they are useless. There is a dualism, therefore ; there is an order of things as well as of thoughts ; and there is a complete correspondence, or, as he expresses if, identity between the order of ideas and the order of things.1 And thus " id quod in intellect u object ive con- tinofur debet necessario in nafnra dan'."2 .Hero we. are back again at subjective and objective. There is tho subjective idoa — tho clear and distinct idea corresponding to tho objeelivo reality. But what guarantee have we, on tho system, of an objeelivo reality or order of things at all? Ilow do wo pass from clear and distinct idea of Substance or Cause to what lies entirely beyond the order of ideas? What legitimate deduction can be made from clear and distinct idea, except only another clear and distinct idea? And can this bo regarded as repre senting something called nature, which, in the first in stance, it never directly knew? From the primary, clear, and distinct idea, if you can get it, you may also get its sequences ; but these will only be ideas following on ideas. The conception that they aro representative of an order of things beyond them, or that there is such an order at all, is a mere hypothesis, and one wholly illegitimate. But Spinoza grounds tho notion that there is a corre spondence between thought and extension, so strict that the former is the mirror of tho latter, on their super sensible identity in the same substance. He says that, mind and body aro " unum et idem individuum, quod jam sub cogilationis sub exfonsionis attribute coneipi- tur."3 Extension and Thought arc thus said to be two fundamental attributes of the same substance, there fore really tho same, differing1- only in appearance or phenomenally. Bodies aro modes of the firmer; finite 1 lithiea. P. II,, prop. 7. 2 llepri'Sen tut i vol v, in the Cmleiiau sense. 3 Rlhica, It., 21.— Schol. cu INTRODUCTION. thought or souls are modes of the latter. Hence the representative order of ideas corresponds to the formal order of nature. As an expositor has expressed it, Soul and body are the same thing, but expressed in tue one case only as conscious thought, in the other as material existence. They differ only in form, so far as the nature and life of the body— so far, that is, as the various corporeal impressions, movements, functions, which obey wholly and solely the laws of tho material organism, spontaneously coalesce in the soul to the unity of consciousness, conception, and thought."1 It is needless to criticise language, of this sort, though commonly enough to be met villi. It has neither co herency iior intelligibility. It slurs ovor the real diffi culty of the whole problem, as to whether the uncon scious nerve-action can pass or be transmuted into any form of consciousness : it does not even touch the ques tion of proof, but takes refuge in mere assumptive verbalism. Nor is it of the slightest moment to tho argument to say that extension and thought are related as common attributes to the one substance. This, even if established, means simply that they are super- sensibly one ; whereas tho question before us is as to their correspondence or identity in our experience. But is this conception of Substance, or God, truly convertible with the Beality ? Can wc at any one time, m any one act, or in any one category of thought, em brace Being in its all-comprehending totality"? This is tho real pretension of Spinozism. Wo can have a thought— viz., that of Substance within which lies the whole content of Being, only waiting development. The assumption here is that Notional Eeality, called sometimes Thoueht, is identictd with Being, and that iu its evolutions and relations wc find the true Universe. But. such a conception is an impossibility from tho first. Bare or mere being, mere is or isness, is till which such a conception conhiins. Extensively this embraces every. ' Sehwe"ler, History of Philosophy, p. 172, 2d edition. INTRODUCTION. cm thing actual and possible ; but it is not, in the first in stance, even conceivable, per se, any more than fhe isolated singular of sensation is ; and, in the second place, it has of itself no comprehension or content. It is incapable of passing into anything beyond itself. Hegel would object to Spinoza's position here, by saying that while he was on the right lino ho made his sub stance " a pure affirmation," incapable thus of develop ment. When Spinoza made it that, he made it tec much,— more than the indeterminate or uncondil ioned was entitled to. And when it is sought to be added that "puro affirmation'' must bo held lo imply "nega tion," we are simply glossing over the difficulty by applying to so-called notions of what is above experi ence, conceptions and laws which have a meaning only in tho sphere of objects in definite consciousness. Moreover, a notion which issues necessarily in nega tion, which goes "out of itself," in the metaphorical fashion of the dialectic, and so returns enriched — with its negation absorbed — is quite entitled to be relegated to the sphere of the very " purest Eeason." Spinoza's demonstration is, in short, the grossest form of petitory assumption. It is not even attempted to be proved that the definitions of substance and attribute and mode, with which he starts, havo objects corre sponding to them in experience. All that is alleged as a ground of this is tho clearness and distinctness of the ideas. Nay, it is the boast of tho system that objects are deduced from them, and set in their necessary rela tions. But the definitions are merely postulates. All that can be claimed for them is this character: Let the term substanco stand for so-and-so: let the terms attribute and mode do the same, — and here are the necessary consequences. But tin's cannot give more. than a hypothetical system of formal abstractions ; and what is more, it can .yield only petitory conclusions. Before the system becomes real and typical of experi ence, it must bo shown that the definitions correspond CIV INTRODUCTION. to objects of experience. This, however, cannot bo done ; in fact, they are assumptions, which transcend experience from the first ; and if it could be dono, it would bo fatal to the system as one of puro reason. Nay, it cannot, even bo shown that tho method has a right to fhe use of tho terms Substanco, Attribute, and Mode at all. These are simply stolen from the language, of experience. And as to tho definition of substanco itself, it is essentially empty; for, as has been remarked, the substanco defined is neither clearly conceived as the subject of inherence nor as the cause of dependence. Tho contrast is not tho less if wo look at tho results of the two methods. The analytic observation of Des cartes yields a personal conscious being — and a personal conscious Deity, with definite attributes given to him on the analogy of our experience. The deduction of Spinoza, starting from a purely indeterminate abstrac tion called substance, gives us, as the only reality of the Ego, a mode of thought, or a collection of tho modes of thought, Thought and Extension are the two attributes ol this indeterminate substanco, which, as such, is neither, and yet both. Of those attributes, again, there are modes ; and the modes of thought aro ideas, and the soul is one of those ideas, or rather an assemblage of them. This is man, — it is simply an anticipation of David Hume's " bundle of impressions." This we may substitute for the personal Ego of Descartes. If we look a little more closely into the matter, we shall find that the vaunted idealism of Spinoza is really, when brought to tho test, the merest vulgar empiricism. Something he calls idea is the root or ground of tho human soul. But wo are immediately told that idea means nothing apart from object or idea turn. But what is tho idcatum? If, turns out to bo body. The body makes the idea adequate or complete. Wo havo con stant asseveration of this point. Tho whole system of INTRODUCTION. CV Spinoza is a roundabout way of coming to say that finite thought is an act dependent on object for its reality, and this object is body. Now we may here fairly set aside tho big talk of the system about sub stanco and conceptions. It turns out that the only thought wo really know is dependent on body or organ isation. Wo had substanco to begin with, — the pure idea; yet when wo come lo our own consciousness, this does not come down in tho line of thought from the in finite substance. This is dependent, as with llobbes or Gasscndi, on a bodily organisation, begged in know ledgo for the sake of giving reality to finite thought! What, when tested in experience, does all this come to, except the very vulgarest form of cmpiiicism? If idea — the movement of finite thought — be impossible unless as cognisant of bodily object, and object be essential to its reality, — what is it but a reflex of organisation ? Of course I may be told that extension is an attribute of Deity, and that, in knowing it, I know God. But I am afraid that, if every act of knowledge even in sense is constituted by the object or ideation called body, I must be limited to that object and its sphere. And as any hypothesis about substance and its attributes must be regarded by mo as a mere form of doubtful imagining, Spinoza is merely tho precursor of those specious high forms of idealism, which in their essence coincide actual ly with the lowest forms of empiricism and negation. Like empirical systems, they really abolish difference. and thus may bo expressed equally in the language of the lowest sensationalism and the highest idealism. But what adds to the maivcl of the whole matter is that this idea, which we venture to call self or self- consciousness, is really the reflex of certain bodily movements. These are, forms of extension, no doubt.; yet thoir reflection is what wo must lake for Ihe unify of mind. In other words, the sum of movements in the body, becoming object of the idea, gives rise to the con ception of the unity of self. The idea has nothing ex- cvi INTRODUCTION. cept what it gets from the ideatum. This i8 a series or asseinblago of bodily movements; and these, mystert oiisly reflected form m consciousness the hallucination of self and self-identity. Should we not be thankful tor demonstration in metaphysics 1 We have seen what kind of Deity Descartes found and represented. What is the Deity of Spinoza ? It is this Substance, if you choose. But taken in itself, it is wholly indeterminate ; it has no attribute. Yet it neces sarily clothes itself in two Attributes, which we chance to know— viz., Thought and Extension. But Divine or Infinite thought is not conscious of itself, is not, con sciousness at all. It knows neither itself nor its end ; yet it works out through all tho fulness of space and tune. It is the blind unconscious immanent in all things— in what wo caU souls, and in what we call bodies— m consciousness and extension. Deity in him self thus, as natura naturans, is utterly void of intelli gence : he is at the best a possibility of development into attributes and modes ; though how he is so much, bemg wholly indeterminate to begin with, it is hard to see. Such a Deity is incapable of purpose or conscious end. ^ He is an order of necessary development without foresight ; he knows not what he is about to do ; it is doubtful whether ho even knows or cares for what ho has done. He has neither intelligence to conceive, nor will to realise a final cause. Ho is impersonal, heartless, remorseless. Submit to him you may; nay, must. Love him you cannot. His perfection is the sum simply of what is, and must be. Call it good or evil, it is really neither, but the ncutrum of fate. This Deity of Spinoza was neither identical with the Deity of Descartes, nor is it a logical development of his principles. It is a Deity simply at once pantheistic and fatal. And this is not a necessary or logical con ception following from tho free and intelligent creator of Cartesianism, It is in the end but, another name for trio sum and the laws of things ; and throwing out in- 1NTRODUCTION. cvn telligence from the substance at starting, it illogieally orcdits it with ideas in the shape of modes in the end. The Deity of Descartes was an expansion of a personal consciousness ; not, as this is, and is necessarily, a simple negation alike of intelligence and morality. The lowering, almost effacing, of individualitj' in the system of Descartes, is no doubt the great blot, and that which most readily led to Spinozism. When me conscious as a fact is resolved into thought as the essence of my being — and when the external world is stript of every quality save extension, and is thus re duced to absolute passivity, — wo are wholly in the lino of abstract thought, Wc are now dealing with notions idealised, not realities, or notions realised. The res cogitans and the res externa aro essentially abstractions. The life we feel in consciousness, the living forms we know in nature, are no more. We aro on the way to the modes of Spinoza, but we are by no means called upon to accept either his identification of those enti ties, — thought or extension — or to embrace the inco herent verbalism of the indeterminate substance and its attributes. The indistinctness with which Descartes lays down the position of the conservation of the finite is a point wliich no doubt suggested a kind of Spinozistic solu tion. He makes conservation as much a divine act as creation. There is nothing, he holds, in the creature itself, or in the moments of its duration, which accounts for its continued existence. Divine power is as much needed through time for this continuity of life, as divine creation was needed at the first. This doctrine. might conceivably be regarded as implying that the actual power or being of the creature is at each mo ment a direct effect from God, or, as a pantheist would put it, a manifestation of the substance immanent in nil things. This latter was of course the Spinozistic solu tion of the problem. But the idea of dynamic force of Leibnitz, — the self-contained and self-developing power cviii INTRODUCTION. Poral individuality -w,' * Prescf ™g a certain tern, «'teple„ient fin the ,'! "T Off,0al SoIutio" <^1 hnite substances TJ ' x, doloSated His power to "H.er, thev could J, 8 f8' °°Uld '10t aCt °" ««* of D scartes s li T'Tf" Mt Tho true di^Ple ^Pnuizi "0 sol itio. e," •/ nVeQi nccessarily to the wavs carried or, f, i th° *yBUim> aml in "^ny verba listed ! teouit S d° m°VGm6Ut iUt° th° anti^ed BcSn^rflVrp^f1 °°nt -adi°tin& the °°* tory reo-ardne- ZsPV re expenence and in his- eoiftrnH in °1 and h'S naturc> SPin°™ ends by l-r tW ^ ai :rvobVnSC1°US ^^ 5 ^ aU his -de d consciousness which conceits itself to be and ^jnnst be, or rather nothing save necessary^ a^eai- . ^1'inoza was logically right wj.on ]l0 said a } but it may be said, and it is attempted to be made INTRODUCTION. C1X out, that the finite or differenced reality is a necessary part of the Infinite — is developed from it as a part of moment, — that this is a manifestation of the Infinite — that it is as necessary to the Infinite as tho Infinite is to it. Without meanwhile questioning tho assump tions here involved, I havo to ask, How far does such a doctrine lead us ? Tho finite or thing differenced from the Infinite has various forms. What reality can there be in finite knowledgo ? Difference and distinction arc merely in appearance. The yes and the no, the true and tho false, the good and tho bad, the veracious and the unveracious, aro merely in seeming or appearance. Each is an abstract view: tho real behind all this show- is the identity of their difference ; it is the Infinite out of which they come, and into which they aro to be with drawn. This Infinite is an identity of all thoughts and things. In this case, is not the whole of finite know ledge and belief a simple illusion — a deceit played out upon mo the conscious thinker? In fact, it subsists by difference — yes and no aro finite determinations, and they are differences. Are these equally manifestations of tho Infinite in every given notion? In that ease everything I assert as true is also false, and the false is just as much a manifestation of the Infinite as the true is. I oppose justice and injustice — veracity and non-verac ity : these aro different — opposite. Their very reality- consists in the difference between them being and being permanent, But if each is a manifesto! ion, and a neces sary manifestation, of tho same transcendent being or infinite, if this infinite is in them equally, and they in it equally, then they are really the same: and as the Infinite goes on developing itself, we may well expect their final absorption or identification. This doctrine of a ncccssaiy manifestation of tho Infinite in every finite form of thought, in every general idea, is, if possible, worso as a moral and theological theory than even the vague indefinite of Spinoza. But such an Infinite is really empty phraseology. It is the mere abstraction Cx INTRODUCTION. ltuSl%*TT>dmerTe °r distincti°n- subsisting ti mh of 11 ,B ' To say that * is the ultim^ inth of .1 is merely to say that all tho differenced is • lienco all the differenced is the same. ' A philosophy whose logical result is the abolition ot the distinction between good and evil, or tho rep resentation or it as only a temporal delusion,-which scorns repentanco and humility, and tho love of God to His creatures, as irrational weaknesses,— may be fairly questioned m its first principles. It may call itself the ugliest form of reason, if it chooses, but it is certain to be repudiated, and properly so, by the common con sciousness of mankind. It is an instance, also, of the injury to moral interests which is inseparable from tho assumption involved in a purely deductive or reasoned- out system of philosophy, that knowledge must be evolved from a single principle-perenbly a purely in- teUectnal one,— whereas the body of our knowledge, speculative and ethical, reposes on a series of co-or dinate principles, which aro mutually limitative, yot harmonious. _ It is claimed for Spinoza as a superlative philosophical virtue, that he was entirely free from superstition— had a Hearty and proper abhorrence of what is called com mon-sense— held ordinary opinion as misleading, behm abstract and imaginative. He was thus the proper me dium for the passage of the immanent dialectic, a proper recipient of the rays of the "pure reason." This en abled him to see things in their true relations,— their relations to each other, and tho whole which they consti tute—anil to sec also that things are not to bo judged by tho relation which thoy may appear to havo to man. J ho truth on this point is, that he was a man of extreme narrowness, and meapablo from his constitution of ap preciating ttio power and the breadth of reality, and shut out nearly from the whole circle or true and "wholesome human feeling^ His freedom from superstition, as scon in tho light of his critical exegesis, means a total ignor- INTRODUCTION. CXI ing of the supernaturahor divine element in revelation. Miracle is in his eyes impossible, to begin with, and prophecy is only an ecstatic imagination. His contempt for common-sense and common opinion is so extrava gant, that he wholly misses tho germ of fact which gives life and force to those, and which a careful analyst of human nature cannot afford to despise. From this bias ho failed entirely to appreciate psycho logical facts, and properly to analyse them. This an alysis, carried as far back as you choose, shows that personality, frco-will, responsibility, are immediate internal convictions which lie at the very root of our moral life. But these, however well guaranteed bv consciousness, aro to bo mutilated or wholly set aside in the interest of a narrow deduction. The conviction of free-will is a delusion. We have only forgot the neces sary determinations. Will and intelligence, two of the most obviouslj'' and most vitally distinct factors in our mental life, are submitted to no fii-opcr analysis. They aro simply identified, Spinoza was wholly destitute of imagination ; ho decries it , and it is deemed sufficient to put it aside from philosophy as subject to no other conditions than those of space and time. But imagina tion, of its appropriate kind, is as necessary to the phil osopher as to the historian or fhe poet, It is the means of keeping his abstract thought vital, — of helping- to realise its true meaning, individualising it and saving- it from verbalism. In a philosophy which professes to represent the universe in its absolute totality, why should tho function of imagination be. mutilated or ignored? This leanness of spirit in Spinoza is not atoned for by tho force of his reasoning. It only be comes painfully apparent in the series of statements said to bo demonstrated, and in ihe arrogant spirit with which he treats both Arisfot le 1 and Bacon. 'Ihe truth is, that his demonstration has no (rue coherency. 1 He speaks of "a eert.iin Creek pliiln^nplier n:,iiie,l A.-KLthi " (Tractates, e.. vii. p. 117) ; ami l.aron is -'a tittle coi:fu.,eJ." cxn INTRODUCTION. It is faulty m its most vital point— the connection be tween the indeterminate or Substance, and the attributes ot Ilioiight and Extension, or indeed any attribute what ever. It was an attempt to reduce the universe to a necessary order of development. But this necessary order is wholly incompatible with an indeterminate basis. Such a necessity of development is itself a de termination or attribute, and one that begs tho wholo possibility of anything flowing from such a basis. The attribute of Thought, moreover, given to Substance,— i.e., Divme or Infinite Thought,— is wholly void even of con sciousness ; and yet, this is ultimately to develop into tbc modes of consciousness known as human souls. This involves tho absurdity of supposing that tho un intelligent Substance as virtually a cause or ground, ultimately issues in intelligence. A demonstration nf this sort is the merest incoherent verbalism. XI. OEVELOPMENT OF CARTESIANISM IN THE LINE OF SPINOZA OMNIS DETERMINATE EST NEGATIO. According to Spinoza's interpretation of Descartes, the latter is represented as holding the finite— whether self-consciousness or extension— to be mere negation. The real is^ the infinite substance which grounds these. Even if this interpretation of Descartes were shown to be erroneous, which it is, Spinoza would yet force this meaning on the principles of Descartes— especially by means of the principle, or at least the assumption, in volved in it — Oinnis determinatio est ncgatio. This prin ciple, thoueli only incidentally stated by Spinoza, is, we are told, the whole of him.1 It certainly has been most profusely used by those who have followed him in the same line, and it is accepted by Hegel as virtually i Letter L (in Willis, p. 381), Opera I. 6-li ; Scliwegler. History of Philosophy, p. 170 (Sth ed.) INTRODUCTION. CX1U the principle of his own dialectic1 It is necessary, therefore, somewhat fully to examine it in itself and its bearings. A precise analysis of its real meaning- should help to settle the validity of a good many important applications of it. The Spinozistic line in relation to Descartes is mainly this, — that self-consciousness and extension as definite or positive attributes — as, in fact, implying limit — are necessarily negative of what is above and beyond themselves. In fact, they do not, im ply the presence of the real by being positive or defi nitely self-consciousness and extension. They, in this respect, rather imply the absence of the real. And it is only when limit or definiteness is removed from them that, they becomo truly real. Tho true real is the in finite substance — rather, perhaps, the hide terminate. Accordingly, neither the self-conscious Ego nor the reality extension have any proper existence as individ ual substances or things. Whatever reality they may have is only a mode of that which has absolutely no limit, or more correctly, of that to which no limit has been assigned— -the indeterminate. 1. The principle expressed in the phrase, Omnis deter minatio est ncgatio is, as employed by Spinoza, identical with that of abstraction from limit, For the limit of the individual requires to bo removed at each step of progress to the only true reality, the indeterminate substance. But before I examine this meaning of the phrase, it is necessary to consider it in its general signification, and to sec especially how, since Hegel gave it its full development, it has been accepted by him and by writers of his school. This principle of determination is explicitly stated in the Logic of Hegel (I quote from the Logic of the E>i\u- clopmdie), as far on as § 91, where, under Quality, he tells us that "the foundation of all dctcrminatencss is iicna- 1 Encyclopedic, Lmjik, § 91 : Wcrlee, vi. p. 130. Compare also Wcrlee, xv. p. 318, Phil. d. Descartes, whe.ro it is broadly sailed that every determinate tiling is a negation. cxiv INTRODUCTION. Being-as a stage in the deduction ' from Pu^ Ed* I is necessary, therefore, to look back for a moment ft 1 this iU- -T- °f Ul° di;llc°tical P-cess, and to See low this principle is now stated for the first time. We o nV wit';: i 7 th° P^^nlos. stage of Pu- e i e-' , n°CCSSar;r 1Ulpli0ate No,1Sht OT Non- ; te and the resumption of tho two moments in o Hut, AV0^V,l0",,n,,'l,,-0to'lsio»°r^ " - au ban, lo have tho p.-e-suppositionloss Itero > nig we bavo ,ts necessary solf-inovomont into its "1'1'o-to, and iho hifc-eonnecLiou of tho nioino. Is suimuod 111, n IWmi,m,H . II, ¦ ,J,U"1CIUB sell'cvolv i l".,,n "«> lho P^hmsion that those so -cud ed dcfcrmtnations are the predicates of Being. Uut ot Becoming, as a fresh starting-point, we have the moment of Quality (Caseyn), detefminat Being n Space and Time-Something (Etwas). This may be regarded as the first step of the dialectic in the region of definite cognisable reality. I do not at present pro" pose to discuss those positions fully. If T did \j10 first question I should ask would be whether there here an absolute pre - supposition!^ beginning. I should certainly challenge the statement that pure Lung as a thought is pro-suppositionless. Such a ner^aLl'tr00^ " 'f?^*™* in my conscious no s ami tho process, at least, must take place there as be abstraction from, and therefore the correlative of tie concrete beng which I already know, from a source dnlerent from pure thought. Hegel's puro Boing is W as much a shot out, of a pistol as Schelling's intuition ot tlie absolute, which ho so characterises. Tho truth is, teat pure Being as a simple abstraction from tho conditions of apprehended Being supposes an abstractor —an Ego, or thinker, whoso thought also is a correla tive cond, l,on of its possibility, n,id who, therefore, is at fee beginning as much as iho pure Being is. Take the oasis of the- system as puro Being, or as a concrete INTRODUCTION. Cxv Some -being of consciousness, how is either of these guaranteed to us ? We have seen what is the guar tee of Descartes. It is intuition regulated by non-con A diction But what is the guarantee of Hegel's Z £ Mere is, or being, is an abstraction from immediate consciousnoss. What e-uanntpn* +i ;.. "''"'cuiato w, ., ¦ , guaianteos tips consciousness? What grasps Ins abstraction? Nothing whatever in us system. There is nothing to give tho one there is nothing to guarantee tho other. He has thrown away the nossibihty of even holding tho pure bein„ a an abs motion ; for it is an abstraction from subject and atlnbuto-froni soir-eon.seiouHtiess and its act Tho »««of pure Being is ex hypolhesi, net deduced ; it is as little guaranteed. It is Lho merest, meani,,,,!,, , ilb. straotiori. On the other hand, reinstate self-conscious ness and Us act of abstraction: this act is a process of consciousness, as much as tho act of doubt is; and the basis now is not mere Being, or pure thong it;' it s the very definite one of a self-conscious thinker who « the ground of the abstraction and of the whole p recess of development, instead of being a stage or mom e, merely in the development. This self-conscious t it savo intuition and non-contradiction 2. I should deny, further, the thought of pure Borm per se, as a beginning ; or a point from which1 any move* ment of thought is possible. How can pure B i„ be supposed capable of movement, or classing into lYolh mg, and thence gathering itself up mlo the un ty ca j econhng? Can the abstraction pure Beine- r ! . Being, as conceived by „iy intellm.mr-,. ,v, • thing to be otherwise' n^Xlt.T named, because of a difference between the wo i Th ^ o,n st 1,-of its own power of motion. We a.ro u.Ul -gate itself,-place -^^VS^^ cxvi INTRODUCTION. or contradiction. It is not meanwhile explicitly said which of the two. Now I say in reply that the con cept of pure Being — mere qualityless, indeterminate Being, is utterly inconsistent with the concept of any inherent necessity of negation or movement whatever. Movement and necessity of movement are determina tions—qualities or predicates which aro wholly incom patible with a purely indeterminate concept as a be ginning. Pure Being is the mere Dead Sea of thought, and once in it there is no possibility from anything it. contains of anything whatever different from itself, or worthy of being named as different, being evolved out of it. And if it is said that the mero concopt of pure Being involves tho concopt of its opposite, non-Being, I say, in reply, in that case, the beginning was not from pure Being, but from the correlation of Being and non-Being, and there never was any move ment or dialectical passage, in the matter. When thus it is said, for example, that "pure thought" must issue in a world of space and time,— that it cannot rest in itself, — wo have a virtual confession of tho impossibility of conceiving " puro thought " per se, and therefore^ of any progress or movement from it as a starting-point. The world of time, at least the singular or concrete, is necessary even to its existence as a consciousness at all from the very first. It means, in fact, that the uni versal side, of knowledge cannot be realised or conceived per se, and as such cannot be the ground of any evolu tion. To tell us that "puro thought" is synthetic, is simply a form of words which covers the begging of the two points at issue— first, whether there is pure thought to begin with, and whether pure thought can be quali fied as synthetic or anything else. The real meaning of synthetic hero is, that it expresses a relation already assumed between tho universal and particular, while it is meant to suggest evolution or development of the latter out. of the former. 3. Besides, to say this— that these two contradictories INTRODUCTION. cxvn are involved in a concept — is to give up the professed problem of deducing the one from the other— that is, of solving the contradiction ; it is to assume simply that the contradiction already exicts, and that the concept embodying it is thinkable. The truth is, that so far as pure thought or pure Being is concerned, there is and can bo no movement. Tho Becoming which is conjured up to express its completion is not a product of puro thought at all ; and it might further be readily shown that this concept which is said to unite tho oppositos does not really do so. It has no unity for absolute Being and absolute non-Being. Nothing must always be less than Being. Becoming, moreover, is a concopt which has meaning in relation to a defi nite experience, where a determinate germ or form of being rises to its own completeness or totality, as the seed to the tree. But it is wholly inapplicable as a notion to the abstractions Being and Not-Being — the falling of one abstraction into another, or the stating fhe same qualityless abstraction in different words, and de luding one's self that one has got different concepts even as moments. 4. But, the pretension of the dialectic is, that there is here from tho first an application of the movement of negation. Negation is the impulse of the whole dialectic ; it is the means by which pure thought moves from its mere in-itselfncss to the successive assertions or determinations of thought and being, to quality. quantity, substance, and so on. Now I challenge flic dialectic in tho first place with a double use. and an abuse of tho principle of negation. It is applied equally to the indeterminate and the determinate. It is, first of all, applied to the mere pure qualityless abstract of being. This is not even something, not an Etwas, it is not in this or that space or time — it is, to begin with, above relation and category of any sort, it is not corn- passable by the intuition of experience, or by the con cept of tho understanding. The question is, Can you XiVxitLUJOCTrOiM. C^ylT^ dfei; "** Md contradiction ? P-pcr nmanh:,:? asf™:°?n°fy "J?^ * -y the mere indeterminate^ c 1 / n * t 8aid tIla< identical with itself or KuT l\ S °r Thoug»t, is an opposite of , ° - ' °t ^ ". Othor ? 0r c™ ss, cio the negation can havo a definite ap- pinaiion 01 re; , ineaiiinii. nl- ¦>! i> i i , " m,; a1 wh eh nof ""' ™ ^ » *b^ ^imn "« no^Y Pm'ely hyPOtllefel ^2?3L£ s as yet no actual negation, for there is as yet not even «« op tnat to which such a formula can\ at ed lie purely indeterminate cannot be actually Sod foi the reason that the negation is as much th« i ' terminate as the so-called "poe^ "; ^f &S" ^--thuig to oppose it either as Wrary o^ con- The delusion thus propagated by the Hegelian logic is te this vague notion of being,-this mofo indefini tuS m fact oven mere qualityless being,-has i„ itself a power of devehrenent. It has real* notlC o "the at.ng experience -not through a logical or rational ^ elopmenf. Tins indefinite is mere extension-mere INTRODUCTION. cxix generalised empty width, — and unless experienco of differences or differenced things come to our aid, it will remain tho same vague indefinite for evor to us. The facts or dotails of our experience or knowledge cannot bo filled up by any deduction from more is or ianess, even from knowing that something is. It is prcdicablo of thoso different facts or details'"; but they cannot be evolved from it. In other words, tho things or kinds of things in tho universe must bo known quite otherwise than by moro inference from our first, knowledge. This sourco of knowledgo is simply a successive and varvintr experieneo, having nothing in common with the is or //mess of the starting-point, except, that, such an element is involved in each new experience. .And ,,vcn flmugh is gave- tho thought, of dill'crence, - ¦ the is-md,— this would imply no real boing or possibility of advance. This is but a mere ideal negation, which a bad logic galvanises into a positive or reality. 5. But it may bo supposed that the dialectic reaches stronger ground when it comes down to Quality or De terminate Being. Here it is emphatically proclaimed that Omnis determinate est ncgatio, — that every deter mination not only implies but is literally negation. Let us hear how Hegel himself states the point : " Quality, as existing dctcrminateness in contrast to the negation which is contained in it, but is distin guished from it, is Beality. Negation, which is no longer an abstract nothing, but a There Being and Something, is only form in this ;— it is other Being. Quality, since this other Being is its proper determina tion, yet, in the first instance, distinct from it, is Beine.- for another,— a width of Determinate Being, of Some what. The Being of Quality as such, contrasted with this reference connecting it with another, is Behw-in- itself." "The foundation," ho adds, "of all dctcrmi nateness is negation (as Spinoza says Omnis d.lermiimtio est ncgatio)." Again : " Being firmly held as distinct from deteren- vxx INTRODUCTION. ab Wi' t,U;nri-"ltSCl, Boi^' W01'° only tllQ empty abstiaetion of Being. In There-Being- dotermmateness is one with its Being, which at tho same time, posited as negation, ,s bound, limit. Accordingly Other-being is not an equal or fellow external to being, but is its own proper moment. Something is, through its quality, first urnle, second alterable, so that finitude and alter- ablcness belong to its beino-."1 _ G. Now wc know two kinds of negation, and if Hegel- lamsm knows a third, let it vindicate it articulately. In the fust case, we havo pure or simple logical negation. VV e can deny what a concept holds or affirms absolutely or merely, without putting anything whatever in its place. Wo can negate A by not-A,— one by none,— some by none.,— and the result is zero. Wo can negate, on the other hand, by a positive concept which yet is opposed to the positive concept with which we start, and which we place in negative relation to it. We can negate pleasure by pain— green by red— and so on. 11ns is real as compared with formal negation. Now, which is used by tho Hegelian dialectic? Obviously not tho former,— not the purely logical negation ; and therefore, fhe progress of the dialectic is not of pure thought at all iu oven a subordinate sense of that term. Absolute logical negation leaves nothing in its place. The Something— the Etwas— being negated, leaves no positive m the shape of Other. It leaves merely the ideal concept not anything— cr nothing, if you choose. The something is thus a positive against a mere nega tion ; but by a trick of language if is sought to contrast this is, or something, with an Other or positive being. This is unwarrantable. Other or Another is not the proper negative of Something or Somowhat; this nega tive is none, or nut-any. This is mere negation, not position at all. That tho opposite of Somowhat is more than a mere negation is- simply an assumption of tho point at issue. " Limit in so far as negation of sorne- 1 Loyik, Pncyeloptulir, §§ 91, 02. INTRODUCTION. CXXJ thing is not abstract non-being in general, but a non- bomg which is, or that which wo call Other." i Tho questions for tho dialectic here aro the possibility of move ment from Some to Other, and tho nature of the Oilier as compared with tho Somo or Something This pass age is operated, wholly by negation,— by the. negation ot the immanent, ever pressing on movement of the conditioning thought or concept passing info negation. And every determination is negation. But the is-not is no development of is; there is no motion or pro-ress from the one to tho other; there is simple paralysis of all motion; and thcro is as little possibility of anv medium either between or above them. As David Hume pointed out, this is the true or absolute contra diction. The dialectic at the earliest stage, aud espe cially later in the case of Quality, assumes what it oiudit to prove— nay, what is unprovable— that the negation of a positive is always and necessarily itself a positive Thought is thus baptised synthetic ; and this is deemed a sufficient basis for the construction of the universe. But let us take the other form of negation,— that n° mere opposition or contrariety. This Ave know well' Here we negate one affirmative concept by another affirmative concept. We negate the Somewhat bv Some Other. We negate red by green— black bv white — square by round— and so on. Now we have n-ot be yond the formalism of the something and the opposite — the position and tho mere negation. Wc are now deal ing with definite concepts ot something and other f him- But how do wc get the some other, or positive wlheh m this relation we set in opposition to our original nosj- tivo ? Can we get it by puro negation ? This has 1 , en shown to bo impossible. All that negate,,-, implies is tho relative assertion of non-cxisfenco or nou-realhv Ibis implies nothing positive. If, then fay, wc set positive against positive as in real or conl.rnrv m,,,,,,'. turn, wo oppose one concept to the first, which' does net 1 Logik, Ene.yehperdie, §§ 91, a3. cxxii INTRODUCTION. of intuition, exEc" td elageTS'7With tlle resu^ Possible, in the fir t inTwl ? ?^~™^*> only Elation of the ta &?Hh th° "^^ tradiction ; and we are sett I ™ V "^ md non-con- positive concept, of^h^Ze^ZT^ "^ nnd can say nothirm- W ght Icn0Wfl no(J™ the vague privo mvAlf rU,0l'Kl. Lowlu'su * cannot actually dc- puvo myseirof eonseiousucss, but must always be sun 1-osod conscious of some process of thong J oven te possibility of determination remains to mc. But nothing su mo ed1?!8 " °bJeCt °f th°USht i fi» * all lim sbf Sot now ^ T^ CM be P»dicate4 I woTld be bite1 "ft that thG reSidUUm *' for that v^nofonnifl Y0 "0W reached an absolutely tsel T ',nSpef ° °f thou8'ht and knowledge self This may be called the infinite-it is simmv U.o absence of thought and predication. I maybe abed realty, and the only reality-it would bo botle ro can it nonsense. 0. To the Hegelian tho substance of Spinoza is a nuro indeterminate. The negation of tho finite or of f e < e termina ta 1B held to be allowable and just, and th it lie. abolition of the distinctive chaiacte- of the mi teat CI ("U; eXpC,liCnCC- B,lt Sl— a'° dcfoet ?., hat ho does not reach a proper first or whole. With b.m it ib the absence of quality rather than tho pres- '¦"™ "1 f>l-inl. 1 is pure anirmation without negation j « lareas it should be aflirination that necessarily negates "*<¦" by alhnuingi.ho finite. If is a simple indetemii- »«¦<;« «>r .absence „f delermina.ion ; it ought, to bo that which ,s selhdetennining, the living individual whole <-r spirit, wmch manifests itself in all that is. But I maintain that this absolutely indeterminate is tho true INTRODUCTION. and logical residuum of tho abstraction from all limit. This process will not yield a positive in any form. Finite self and consciousness being abstracted from, there can remain no infinite self and consciousness. For we are not here saying that the degree of the quality is increased, — as when wo say that there is intelligence higher than our intelligence ; but wo are seeking to throw off limit and quality altogether. Tho very limit is a negation, — a negation of tho un limited. The void indeterminate cannot, be filled, up by tho Infinite Spirit. Nor can wo properly be said to havo reached the knowledgo of a wholo which in cludes our self-consciousness as a part — whatever that may mean. This wore simply to take up Ihe discarded limits, the definite predicates of self and consciousness — and baptise them infinite self and consciousness. The abstraction must be done in good faith. Self, without or apart from limit, is to me no-self ; and consciousness, unless as a definite consciousness, as a conscious act at a given time, is no consciousness. Self and conscious ness may indeed be regarded as logical concepts. Self and consciousness are capablo of being thought by mo as notions or as names for classes of things. But as such they havo their limits or attributes ; they arc what they are, though determination and attribution, like other notions ; and the}7 aro realisable by mo only in connec tion with individual instances of them. This is a totally different position from the abstraction from their limits : in fact, it is impossible under such an abstraction. The residuum, accordingly, of this abstraction is not an infinite self or self-consciousness ; it is simply a vague indeterminate, which is neither thought nor being, and which is possiblo at all or conceivable only because whilo abstracting from all limits I surreptitiously retain tho limits of self-consoionsness and thought. To cull this a wholo in which f am included as a. part., is to apply an illegitimate analogy. Whole and pari imply limitation as much as finite self-consciousness does ; and cxxvm INTRODUCTION. we are not entitled to seek to express tho absolute ab straction from all limits by correlation or limitation. It may, of course, bo said that abstraction from tho limits of tho Ego of consciousness gives us the notion of an Ego in general. The Ego of my consciousness is an individual embodiment of the notion of a universal Ego. By abstracting from limits — that is, considering mo as but an Ego— or one of the Egos, I get to the uni versal notion— Ego, tho Ego. " I " is predicable of me ; it is prcdicable. of others, it is predicable of God. But what then becomes of tho individuality which is attri buted to the, infinite Ego, or infinite self-consciousness? How can " I," tho individual, be in any sense a part or manifestation of this infinite Ego, if'" I" and "He" are but exemplifications of a common notion? 10. There is a sense, no doubt, in which we must sup pose that finite self-consciousness is related to some thing beyond itself. As a reality in time, it has rela tions to other points of being in time ; and wo must go back to a ground of it, either in or above temporal con ditions. But tho question at present is not whether this be so or not ; or whether we can reach a solution of this problem ; but whether in the way indicated we do or can connect or identify our finite self-consciousness with what is here called an, or the, Infinite self-consciousness. Tho main objection to this view has been antici pated in the criticism of the principle of determina tion involving negation. If in affirming my self-con sciousness, I necessarily and knowingly negate an infinite sell-consciousness by imposing a limit upon if, I must bo first of all conscious of this infinite self-con scious being. lie is necessarily first in tho order of my knowledgo. Negation means previous, at least con ditioning, affirmation. Conscious limitation means a previous consciousness of the absence of limit. I can only consciously impose, limit on that which had no limit, by knowing first of all the unlimited. Now this reduces the whole process to absurdity and INTRODUCTION. CXX1X self-contradiction. If I know this infinite self-conscious ness which I negate in asserting myself, I must know both before I know and before 1 am. My knowledgo no longer begins with mo being conscious, but with me being conscious not of, but as, an infinite self-conscious ness, and that when as yet I am not distinguished from it as either existent or conscious. Or do I distinguish myself from this infinite self-consciousness when I know it? Then what becomes of its infinity ? And how then am I a mere negation of it or a moment of it? Am I identified with the primary consciousness of it? Then what becomes of mo and my knowledge? And bow can I bo said to negate this infinite self-consciousness which I am in order that I may be ? But the truth is, that if every determination is a negation of a previous determination, there never was any determination at all to begin with. Knowledge or determination never could have a beginning: for as any given determination is only a negation of another determination, and dependent on this other, every de termination is a negation. But the negation, at the same time, needs a determination as a condition of its existence — that is, it needs what, by the very conditions of the problem, is impossible. Such a statement im plies not only the non-commencement of knowledge —it implies the very subversion of tho conception of knowledge: for it ends in identifying affirmation aud negation — i.e., in pure non-determination. 11. But what, it may be asked, is the moral bearing of such a doctrine ? In order to get the truly real, tho first limit that must disappear here, is our own indi viduality ; wo are no longer truly one ; we are not really distinguished from tho infinite substance as individuals ; we have no independent existence or reality. But. take away the notion with which wc delude ourselves that wo have an existence in any way distinct from tho substance of all, and a "oo'd doal else must go. Good and evil, freedom, respon- cxxx INTRODUCTION. nihility, — all those must disappear with our person ality. It is because wo think ourselves as distinct from the substance which is identified with God, that wc are conscious of doing tho right or the wrong, — have merit or demerit. But wo may give up thcso thoughts altogether ; they havo no reality ; wo need not tronblo ourselves either about good or evil, pity or repentance, pride or humility. They are all tho same in reality. Personality as a limitation is a more nega tion, is unreal ; the only lino reality is lho unlimited substance. To it all personality is indifferent; to it also necessarily is all good and evil; thoso aro more temporary limitations of its development. Itegarded from the finite point of view, good and ovil aro dolu- sively distinguished ; but these seeming differences dis appear the moment they are contemplated from the point of view of the infinite substance. All that is, is alike to it ; all is equally what it is ; there i3 really ultimately no difference, of right or wrong in the one — that is, in tho universe. As for the abolition of the temporal distinction of good and ovil, and their identification in the absolute one or substance, all that need be said is, that what ever bo the ultimate solution of the mystery of good and evil — whether absorption or sublimation, or clova- tion of moral will in tho universe — this Spinozistio solution is obviously none. It is tho mere audacity of reckless assertion to say that there is neither good nor evil in time — that neither temporally is real; it is a mis conception, moreover, to suppose that abstraction of the differences between good and evil really identifies them : the result is not identification, but the destruction of each in thought ; for the difference being abstracted, neither remains to be identified with the other. And that they are the same in or to the eternal substance, is only vindicable on fhe supposition that this substance is neither intelligent nor moral, but a name for tho sus pension of both functions. INTRODUCTION. CXXX1 II. But it may be worth whilo, in closing this section, to look for a momont at tho correction and supplement of Spinoza, as put by Hegol himself. " Germany," as Trendelenburg tells us, "knows the formula by heart that Hegel's groat merit is that he defines God as a subject, in contradistinction to Spinozism, which defines Him as a substance." x " Substance," says Hegel, " is tho principle of the philosophy of Spinoza. But this prin ciple is incomplete. Substance is doubtless an essential momont of lho development ot tho idea; but, it, is never theless not tho idea itself; it, is the idea under the limited form of necessity. God is without doubt, neces sity or tho absolute thing, but, Ho is also a person, and to this Spinoza has not risen. Spinoza, was a Jew, and he placed himself at the oriental point of view, accord ing to which all that which is finite only appears as transitory and passing. The defect of his system is the absence of the Western principle of individual ity which first appeared in a philosophical form, con temporaneously with Spinoza, in the monadology of Leibnitz." 2 The points of the deduction are these : — 1. The tie which connects things, which causes a thing to outer into actuality as soon as its conditions are fulfilled, is Necessity. 2. This Necessity, considered in itself, is Substanco — the point of view of Spinoza. 3. But substanco, as absolute power, is determined in relation to Accident. It thus operates — becomes Causality. 1. Substance is thus Cause, inasmuch as, passing into accident, it is reflected upon itself, and thus bA- comes the original thing (urspriingliche Saehe — i.e., thing presupposed in the effect). 5. Tho effect is distinguished from the cans,.; but 1 Die Inpisehe Fror/e. in lleijelx System, LSI!. Of. Jour, tat ire Philosophy, \\. p. li.M). : Encyclopaedic, Locjik, %% 150, Ifil. I oi Spec;, cxxxii INTRODUCTION. Si?' S; tiT ediate or posited- is to be **¦ substance th?Pff! S °Perates> the™ is another =uostance-the effect-upon which tiie action happens f ^ubstet f^TV'^'" °?P°fiiti0n' OT «*»* ciiTe ret substance. Iherc is action and reaction. Causal ity passes into the relation of Reciprocity of action in Li i r °11clK]1ei,C0 of tho substance thus issues lo Je /I P -r°nClritS' a,Kl tlmS th° e^tod, like eete et T M ?bf»lcu; and because causes and i. feels act and react, thoso aro sclf-balaneinr. Effects rei„irei • h t snli tmc° tiu,s ™s in *&¦ ^-t red Hon identical with itself. And herein lies tho truth, - be conciliation of Necessity and Freedom > to its attributes or accidents is a necessary or fatal re al tain J to f 1 "I CMSe °peratiDS erfect- ft is free or h from t if °ni L ?CMSe What ft Produces necessarily is horn itself and identical with itself, is itself cause and thus remains "with itself." Subsknce in re alien to accidents is out of itself, or in relation to what is out ot itself, but substanco as cause in relation to its effect is as thus cause identical with itself, and yet combines self-identity with development. eomomes There is hardly a statement in this series, or a link of connection, which might not be properly challenged. \ bu docs the whole amount to but an identification of 1 10 relation of substance and accident with that of cause and ofiecte But apart from this, what is tho identity mtioduced? Simply the identify or rather proportional energy of substance as cause, with effect as determined result. Is this „ .entity of substantial cause with itself VVilI any one maintain that this is so in relation to Physical transmutation, or in relation to mental mani- icsf ation i Is it so in any act of volition ? Then what is the sense, if there is any coherent meaning at all, in the position that accident or effect is cause in respect of the substance or cause by which it is produced ? Does 1 T-offU; §§ 152, 153, 154. INTRODUCTION. cxxxiH the reflection or so-called reaction of an effect on it, cause constitute it a cause in respect of its otn oause ' Substances may generate other substances, and causes other causes; but these are so not in res^Lcf ™ denL Sta;? °lTSeS' bUt hl ™P«* °f the ace dens or effects which m their turn follow from then. fi Zl ,1 TP 7 a B-PeC]men °f th0 comm°» Hegelian fallacy that correlatives, as mutually reflecting upon or "plying each other, are identical. This, though i-ealte ho vital point of the whole Logic, referring as it does o die development of Spirit, is about the worst and Lite est specimen of so-called deduction in the system -tins process is brought forward as the true -renon live or creative process of the universe of God and M.-L Ihe theory has advanced on Spinoza ; it has introduced negation superseded his pure affirmation, and solved the problems of the infinite and the finiteLof jJbLty anc Necessity. Substance has now become subject 'or spmt , it is on the eve of passing into, or rather has in self diff™1' ' ^l , °nC6pt &<*&)> Whidl Posits n itself differences which return to unity with itself Ihe process moreover, is not only the way in which we may best think of God, hut it is God-God rl i before us m the creation of Himself and the u i ive ^ He is hus far on His way to His true behm, in he comp ete realisation of tho process, in which° t tnm un c se flra6Val.MtI' "ft He creates Himself and the ZlZollcl Serl°SOf'-^ ^eh He is sustained He is Substance developed into Cause, and thus into Concept and so regarded as conscious subject , H^ratcjand m the operation remains idenf icaiVi linnselt. But how is either consciousness, freedom or purpose provided for here? Substance is\ - r a ne cessity of passing mto cause, and cause again into e te ' »hicli is counter-cause. What is there h.ue bevond f re i evolution? If substance merely produces ^bLnL and cause cause, what provision is there here for « ,' ci CXXX1V INTRODUCTION. sTrit6?88 ?TpuiP°8e? Ha™ we yet come to subject or ~^ of freedom, moreover, is that which is compa b e w„ afalemanatioi, provided only tho spring or sour o hit emanation be either substance or cause itself and ¦ e process oteinanal, on necessary? Is this the highest o beedon,, or the freedom which we are to tateri- "^ <» Deify? It ,s infinitely short, of iho notion of l:"l""]!:'"""'""'" re.poitenrc "In necessary enum ;;'- -'' - virtually prede,,er,,,ined, and h.ecdo,n,\hmugi f.?1; \,ih" —>^o of spirit, is necessity lor the individual" It is the freedom of which the' materi 5 when Z T^T' lf * WSre ^^ous'at all, when let loose frem the tie which bound it to the height it descended to the earth. Or, as Trendelenburg \Z L 'Pllt * n" FrCed0m' a ^d ^. *» thus in tins tela ion no olhc, content than this comfort of the sub stance, that the upspringing are still substances, and tho if cte as working against are again causes. This rcla- uon is the most abstract reflection everywhere applicable, v here anything moyes. Who 0VRr ml]oA ifc {^^ then were necessity even freedom, if tho master strikes dm slave ; for therein are they identical that both are distances ; and the slave who gives up his baok is operating 111 this opposite action, as the master in the nrst cause. l XII.- -HEGELIAN CtnriCISJI- -TIIE EGO AND THE INFINITE. The attempt to Hegelianise Descartes seeks to correct him m what ho said, and to bring out what he meant, to say, or at least ought, to have said. It refers, of course, pio':ie.nIa,-ly m the first instance, to his Cogito ergo sum. Huh has to get a new meaning, or at least aspect, bo- 1 Loej. TJnt., p. 63 (ed. 1870V INTEODUCTIOK. CXXXV fore it can be accepted as final or sufficient. Let us see how the. thing is to be managed. The sco,,e, H.nreLL guarantee of the first principle havo ah- aly b LL plained. What is tho ltee-elian view? Wo are told, in HegclianAanguage, that the Co.fn,, cr„0 sum is not a suffieienfly deep or primary basis of phiio Sophy A mere certainty is not enough. The oovl- inte must be primary, nothing actually, but all (hi,,,,,: ,„,.,-,,;. tail y lho certainty which it gives doc, not lie. at lie root of things. If, implies a duah,m ot thoneht and being; wo must therefore go beyond if to sou'icihin,, more fundamental. Philosophy «,„„.,,. ,,nP1(.|,-:ite te a stage where thought and being are one-teo the absolute unify of bo h, which precedes their disrupt,',,,, into Iho several worlds of Nature and Mind. Ii nmst teow re tire yery beginning of thought, before it has come to the tuff consciousness of itself." 1 Now whence is this must, this necessity of penetration to an absolute unity,— whatever that mav mean ? H, -w is it that when we are supposed to be, seeking a boter,, nmg of philosophy, we are able dogmatically to lay cA„ its prerequisites in tin's fashion? Have we ahAalv- philosophy of what a philosophy ought to be V Tn that case, how can we bo supposed to be seel, Iv the. lLL ' nmg of any philosophy? Surely it is moiA m accord ance with all rules of sound scientific and ohiioretelcnl procedure to see whether we can go backwards oi- ire- wards to this unity arter we have studied the facts and the conceptions which they involve, than to msumo that tnere must, be such an absolute unite- for tefilo sopby; and further, that we must be able to know it and to demonstrate all forms of reality from it as a com' men basis. What is this but to assLe, at tire ou L a particular solution of the great problem' of philosophv' while a more modest and ciremnsnect method would eV pec such a solution, whatever its nature might be only" at the end, and after careful inquiry? ' Wallace's Logic of Ilcejel, pp. 126, 127. cxxxvi INTRODUCTION. ,uoof foLthl R r n°'V ProoiseIy th° Points of the P oof f0l this Hegelian representation of tho imperfection of Descartes doctrino and tho necessity of its own. Ifiere seem to be two main grounds of proof. These are two statements or principles, which are given in a somewhat dogmatic fashion, as apparently self-evident I or i is a characteristic of this pre-suppositionless phi losophy that it more than any other makes assumptions witnout proffering either proof or warrant of thorn. The one alleged principle is that, " to bo conscious of a limit is to transcend it. ' Or, more particularly, wc are to identify the consciousness of self as thinking with transcencl- mg tho limits of its own particular being, and so with die consciousness or idea of God.-' » Self-consciousness hasa negative clement in it,-that is, something definite, and therefore hm, ted." This is a statement of the prin ciple, and also a hint of its immediate application. The other principle is the well-known Spinozistio aphorism that determination is negation,— On,™ determinate est ncgatio. _ The two principles now mentioned very closely coin cide. The negation refeis to the qualities of individual objects; the abstraction from limits refers to things as m space and time, or to things as bounded. As quality is itself a determination, it is a limit. In order to o-ct at what is truly real, wo have to abstract from tho actual limits of individuals,— nay, we have ultimately to ab stract from all limit whatever and we shall find the only true reality m what is then called the Infinite. Hegel is credited with bringing out explicitly the principles which governed the thought of Spinoza. 2. Tho so-called principle Omnis dctcrminatio est negatio has already been sufficiently exposed.1 Let us look now at the other generality which is vaunted as a principle, and the ground of advanced philosophy. It is thus Hegel himself states the principle: '•Tho knowledge which wc have of a limit, shows 1 See supra, p. cxii et sop INTRODUCTION. exxxvii that we already overleap tho limit; it shows our infinity. Ihe things of nature are finite by this even, that fimit does not exist for them, but only for us who com,, are them with each other. We are finite when we receive ft contrary into consciousness. But wo overleap this limit in the knowledge even which we have of that con trary (other). It is only the unconscious benm- (der Unwisscnde) that is finite, for it is ignorant of itsAlimit. On the other hand, every being which knows limit knows tho limit as not a limit of its knowledge, but as an ele ment of which it has consciousness, asAan clement that belongs to the sphere of its knowledge. It is only the being unknown (or of which there is 'no consciousness) that could constitute a limit of knowledge ; whilst that known limit is by no means a limit of blowing. Con sequently, to know one's own limit is to know one's own dhmitability. Meanwhile, when we conceive spirit as unlimited, as truly infinite, we ought not to conclude that the limit is m no way in the spirit, but rather to recognise that spirit ought to determine itself and therefore to limit itself and place itself in tho sphere of the finite. Only the understanding is deceived when it considers this finitude as insurmountable and the difference of limit aud infinity as absolutely irrecon cilable, and when, conformably to this conception it- pro tends that spirit is finite or infinite. Finitude,' seized m its reality is, as we havo just said, in infinite. The hunt is m the unlimited ; and consequently spirit is not infinite or finite, but as well the one as' the, other The spirit remains infinite in its finitude, for it sun presses its finitude. In it nothing has an existence fixed and isolated, but all is found idealised, all passes and is absorbed in its unity. It is thus that God ,,0. cause He is Spirit, must determine Himself, nositin Tin- finitude (otherwise Ho would be only a void and dead abstraction) ; but as tho reality which He tevr., Himrelf m determining Himself is a reality whieltes completely adequate to Him, God, in determining Himself becomes CXXXV111 INTRODUCTION. in no way a finite being. Limit is not then in God and in tho Spirit, but it is placed (posited) by tho Spirit in order that it may be suppressed. It is only as moment that finitude can appear in the Spirit and remain there $ for by its ideal nalure tho Spirit raises itself above it, and knows that limit is in no way a limit insuperable for it. This is why if, overpasses it, and frees itself from it. And this deliverance is not, as the understand ing represents it, — a deliverance that is never accorn plished, an indefinite effort towards the iufinitc, — but a deliverance in which tho Spirit frees itself from this indefinite progress, completely effaces its limit or its contrary, and raises itself to its absolute individuality and its true infinity."1 Again : " To be annulled by and in its contrary, there is the dialectic which makes the finitude of pre ceding spheres. But it is the Spirit, the notion, the eternal in itself which effaces this image (simulacrum) of existence, in order to accomplish within itself the annihilation of the appearance." 2 We find the principle of this passage repeated in Hegelian literature as apparently not requiring proof. We are told that " to know a limit as such is to be in some sense beyond it ; " " the consciousness of a limit implies the consciousness of something beyond it;" and as applied to reality, it is said to follow that " the dual ism of mind and matter is not absolute, and thought transcends the distinction while it recognises it." We find it asserted that "if the individual is to find in his self-consciousness the principle of all knowledge, there must be something in it which transcends the distinc tion of self and not-self, which carries him beyond the limit of his own individuality." Subjective conscious ness passes into objective in the consciousness of God. "ft is because wo find God in our own minds that we find anything else." Finally, the result of the doctrine 1 PhilosoptJc des ndslcs, sect. 387, Zasalz. Compare Logik, soet. 91. - Ibid., sect. 8? 7. INTRODUCTION CXXXIX. of the transcending of limit is that " our consciousness of God is but a part of God's consciousness of Himself, our consciousness of self and other things is but God's consciousness of them, and there is no existence either of ourselves or otlier beings except in this consciousness." 3. As applied to tho Cartesian position, tho correction it yiolds may bo summed up as follows : — The being conscious, or tho finite, is an illusion or puro negation, if me-being or mo-conscious is viewed as a being or reality in itself, and having an existence distend from, or even in opposition to, a not-self in tho form either 'of God or Matter — extension. I conscious do not exist apart from my being consciously Clod Himself — an infi nite self-consciousness — or at least a part of Him, or an individual included under Him as a part of His con sciousness in which I partake. It does not seem to be affirmed that I, the individual conscious Being, am really God, in tho sense of boing convertible absolutely with His Being or consciousness. He passes in mo and over me, if He does not trample me out. I am affirmed, how ever, to be a part or a moment in His consciousness, whatever that may mean ; so that I cannot be conscious of myself without being conscious that, so far as I am conscious, I am God, or His consciousness is my con sciousness, or my consciousness is His ; only my being- conscious does not exhaust His consciousness. The moment, however, that I conceit myself as anything but an indissoluble part of the consciousness of God, I deceive myself, raise illusion to tho rank of reality. The only reality is the Infinite ; and I am in His devel opment. That is all I can lay claim to. This is true also of all the individual consciousnesses of the universe: they are not really individual consciousness in the sense of being consciousnesses separate from the Divine con sciousness ; they are simply moments in His conscious ness: His consciousness is theirs, and theirs is His. The Divino wave of consciousness flows through all humanity — indeed through all the universe. ; for tho nxl INTRODUCTION. different ascending stages of being are but moments in the JJivino consciousness as it moves upwards and on wards ti-om its dun unconscious potentiality to self-consci ousness m man, and to the transcending of things in the absolute Spirit, which, in knowing itself to be all, is all. Several questions thus at once arise. The first of these is tho historical ono as to whether it is tho doc trine of Descartes. This comes very much to inquiring as to whether his statements, collateral with his main principle, give reasonable hints of if. _ I. There can, I think, bo little doubt that this identi fication of finite self-consciousness and an infinite solf- cousciousness, or consciousness of Deity, is a totally dif ferent conception from that of Descartes. He no doubt holds, that alongside the finite self-consciousness there is an idea of the Infinite— an idea which is positive, which possesses more reality than the idea of the finite. This idea is suggested to us, or it arises into actual consciousness, through the conception of our own fini tude, limitation, or imperfection. It is, in fact, the cor relate of the intuition of self and its limitations ; but it is not, in Descartes' view, an intuition of being, as our self-consciousness is ; it is not, properly speaking, a consciousness of being at all; it is not, as it has boen improperly regarded, the consciousness of God on tho same level with the consciousness of self— it is simply an objective or representative idea in the consciousness of tho finite being. The idea and the reality of God aro so far from being identical, that tho principle of Causality is called in by Descartes to infer tho Being from the Idea. There is no identification here of the finite self-consciousness as an intuition with tho idea e^en, far less with that which is totally separate from the, idea — Iho Being or consciousness of Deity. We could not, properly, on tho Cartesian doctrine, even speak of the consciousness of God, as wo can of tho consciousness of oursclf; for, in tho latter case, we are the reality — in fhe former wc arc not even face to face with it. INTRODUCTION. cxli 1. But Descartes makes a further statement on this point. Ho tells us that tho idea of the Infinite is not only positive, but " in some sense prior " to the con sciousness of the finite— to my self-consciousness. This, of course, would be contradictory of his main doctrine, that self-consciousness is the first principle of know ledge, if wo did not remember that the priority '' in some sense" of which ho here speaks, is the priority, not of actual consciousness, but of latency, lie is giv ing, in fact, an instanco of his doctrine of Innate Ideas. These, according to him, mean not ideas actually elicited into consciousness, but ideas somehow prior to and conditioning our actual consciousness, while appearing in it. And tho idea of the Infinite had, according lo Descartes, a special claim to be regarded as innate, be cause, unlike tho ideas of sense, it was not dependent for its actuality on physical conditions. This was not, however, a priority of knowledge, but of potentiality or latency. This statement cannot, therefore, be rele vantly adduced as proving actual knowledge before finite or self-conscious knowledge. 2. We fortunately havo a perfectly precise explanation of the matter by Descartes himself: "I say," he tells us in explanation, " that tho notion which I have of the infinite is in me before that ot the finite ; for tins reason, that from this alone, that I conceive being or that which is, without thinking whether it is finite or infinite, it is infinite being which I conceive ; but in order that I may be ablo to conceive a finite being, it is necessary that I retrench something from this geneial notion of being, which consequently ought to precede."1 Two things are, clear from this: a. That Descartes confused the mere indeterminate of thought, — what is as yet not laid down as either infinite or finite, — with the true conception of infinity, b. 'That, he cannot be cited as having consequently countenanced the doctrine that the finite is a mere negation of tho infinite; fur the 1LcltrcLII. ct M. (Jlcrsdicr; Gamier, iv. \. 1(12. cxlii INTRODUCTION. simple reason that be was not speaking of the true infinite, or of what he in other places described as such. The finite might, as a determinate notion, be a stop further than tho inoro state of non-predication ; but if, cannot bo represented as in any proper senso of the term a negation, far less a negation of the infinite. And certainly it is ludicrous to say, in such a case, that tho so-callod infinite or indeterminate has more reality than tho finite or determinate. It is truly void of any attribute or predicate whatever. 3. But, if we look at the matter closely, wo shall see that there is no true contradiction in tho two positions of Descartes, that knowledge begins with tho Cogito ergo sum, and that in a sense tho idea of God is iii us prior to the intuition of the Ego cogitans. For he quite distinctly regards tho knowledge of self and the know ledge of God as of two different orders. In the one case we havo an intuition, — tho reality is in conscious ness, in a sense the reality is the consciousness. The knowing and tho known are for the time convertible. In the other case, we are distinct from the reality; we know it only representatively or by idea; tho exist ence of the object is not the idea of it the idea even is not commensurate with tho reality. And whatever be the mode in which wo may reach a guarantee of tho reality itself, this is not by direct knowledge or intuition of it, as in tho case of tho Ego cogitans. The direct knowledgo of tho conscious ego is actually the first. 1. It ought to bo observed that while Descartes holds the idea of the infinite to be true, real, or positive, and to bo " clear and distinct," ho does not hold it to be adequate or commensurate with tho reality. Ho holds, in fact, along with these positions, that the infinite is incomprehensible by us. Nothing can bo more explicit than his statement on this point: — ¦ "Tho idea of a being supremely perfect and infinite is in the highest degree true ; for although, perhaps, we INTRODUCTION. exliii may imagine that such a being does not exist, we cannot, nevertheless, suppose that his idea represents nothing real, as I havo already said of tho idea of cold. It is likewiso clear and distinct in the highest degree, since, whatever the mind clearly and distinctly conceives as real and true, and as implying any perfect ion, is con tained entire in this idea. And this is true, neverthe less, although I do not comprehend tho infinite, and although there may be in God an infinity of things which I cannot comprehend, nor perhaps even compass by thought in any way ; for it is of the nature of the infinite that it should not bo comprehended by the finite; and it is enough that I rightly understand this, and judge that all which I clearly perceive, and in which I know there is some perfection, and perhaps also an infinity of properties of which I am ignorant, are formally or eminently in God, in order that the idea I have of Him may become the most true, clear, and distinct of all the ideas in my mind." Our knowledge thus is so far from being identical with the being of God or tho Infinite that it is not even adequate to the reality of that being. The being of tlie Infinite may be a consciousness, but it is not our con sciousness, nor is ours related to it as the part to the whole, or in any way necessary to it. God is to Descartes "a substance infinite, eternal, immutable, independent, all-knowing, all-powerful, by which I myself, and every other thing that exists, if any such there be, were cre ated." l But our knowledge of llim is not adequate to His actual infinity or rcalitj' ; it is, in fact, but an ana logical knowledge, which does not contain all that lie is or may be, and which can at tho best grasp His perfections not formally but, eminently. So far, then, as the doctrine of Descartes itself is con cerned, there is no proof that lie in any way identified tho finite and infinite consciousness. At ihe very time that ho says there is greater reality in tlie. id.-a, ol tba 1 Meditations, iii. p. 12.",. cxliv INTRODUCTION. Infinite than in that of the Finite, and that the former is in somo sense prior to the latter, he distinctly infers an actual Infinite, who is the cause of the Idea in the finite, and thus makes as complete a dualism as if he had laid down the material non-ego as an object of direct per ception. The true dualism of Descartes is that between the finite and infinite, the imperfect and the perfect; and this is as repugnant to Hcgelianism as a dualism be tween thought and extension. II. But the question arises — Can such a doctrino as this bo made self-consistent? Is it coherent, or oven intelligible? I. being is consciousness — these are convertible. My consciousness is, and it is not. It is not whilo I think it as mine ; but when I conceive it as also the conscious ness, infinite consciousness, of God, it is. The infinite consciousness or consciousness of God is, and it is not. It is not apart from my consciousness ; it is when I am conscious. Infinite consciousness and finite conscious ness thus exist only as they exist in each other. They are not co-factors — for neither is real by itself; but each is real in relation to the other. In' fact, reality is in neither of tho co-factors ; each taken by itself is an illusion ; but let the infinite go out into the finite, or let the finite rise to the infinite, and both become real. There is just one slight difficulty about this doctrine, and it is this — that it gives up too much, and can get too little for its requirements. If the infinite conscious ness is by itself an illusion, and tho finite consciousness is by itself an illusion — a mere non-entity — how does the illusory infinite consciousness pass into or add on to itself tho finite ? and how does the illusory finite con sciousness rise to the infinite? We must either sup pose that tho co-factoi-s — the infinite and finite conscious ness — had each an independent existence before they became one, — in which case their reality does not lie in their unity : or we must suppose that what was simply unreal and illusory had the power of becoming what is INTRODUCTION. cxlv both real and true : or wc must hold that there was some thing beyond them which constrained them to unite, or rather created them in union— in -which case, however, there was being beyond consciousness. 2. Infinite self-consciousness is not (does not conceive itself to be), unless it is (or conceives itself to be) finite self-consciousness ; finite self-consciousness is not, unless it is (or conceives itself to be) infinite self-con sciousness. In bare formula, A is not, unless it is not-A (or B) ; not-A (or B) is not, unless it, is A. Strictly taken, neither tho one nor tho other is; only if either is, the other is : if ono is conceived, the other is con ceived. Neither is by itself; both tire, if they are at nil. Up to this poinl, no statement is made except flail of a hypothetically necessary relationship. Exception even might lie taken.to the validity of tho alleged neces sary relation. But waiving this meanwhile, the question now is — Can this hypothetical relationship be realised or fulfilled ? Do the terms of it not preclude the possi bility of its absolute assertion ? I hold that they do, and that the problem as put is ab initio null. Wc have merely a hypothetical see-saw. The one term — viz., finite self- consciousness — is not, unless it is the other term, infinite self-consciousness. There is, therefore, no starting-point for determination. If the one is not, until or unless, it is the other, I can never say that either the one or the other is, or that they both are. If I had before me two exclusive alternatives, or even correlates, equally co existent, I could absolutely say, This is, therefore the other is not ; or, This is, therefore that is ids,,. If it had been said infinite self-consciousness and finite self-con sciousness are necessary correlatives, I could have con cluded that, when I got the one I had the oilier. But if I say, as this formula does, the one is not unless it is the other, I can determine nothing. For my finite self- consciousness is not, until that infinire self-consciousness which is said to bo inseparably it, is also; and so the infinite self-consciousness is not, until my finite self cxlvi INTRODUCTION. consciousness which is inseparably it, is also. I must, therefore, always beg the very thing which I am caUed upon absolutely to establish, before I can assert or infer it. I shut myself up in an absolute petitio principii. I do not exist only in the consciousness of God ; and God does not exist only in my consciousness, and in the consciousness of other minds. I have not merely a universal existenco ; and God has not merely a dis tributive existence. At least these are prbpositions I am never able to affirm, for the reason that I can never, ex hypolhesi, even be until I am not myself, but God ; and God can never be until He is not Himself, but me. Or I can never bo conscious until I am conscious as God ; and God can never be conscious until He is con- scions as me. I therefore can never know God's con sciousness ; and He can never know mine. As con sciousness and being are identical, for the same reason neither God nor I can ever be. 3. But what precisely is tho extent of the statement that my consciousness is God's consciousness, and God's consciousness is mine? Is this the human conscious ness in all its modes or moods, thoughts, feelings, desires, volitions — in all their limitations and imperfec tions — in all their purity and impurity, their foulness and their fairness? Is this God's consciousness, at least temporally? Is it His consciousness passing through man ? Then what sort of Divine conscious ness is this? What, of injustice, falsehood, and slan der ? Is this the Divine consciousness in man? At any rate, we need not deal much with its ethical results. These aro tolerably apparent. Had we not better take refuge in Dualism? Or is it only that my conscious ness is God's consciousness in tho senso of logical or generic identity? — iu tho sense, that is, of tho two consciousnesses being tho same in essential character and feature? So that wo know at least, as Terrier put it, what God is, if wo do not know that Ho is. In this ease, we have no real identity or identity except in INTRODUCTION. cxlvii thought. We havo the same identity which wo havo in any classification. But this implies a duality of per ception or intuition. And wo have not yot reduced all consciousness — i.e., all boing — to one. _ 4. Although Hegelianism seeks to make tho prin ciple of non-contradiction of very little effect in its sys tem of doctrino, wo aro at least, in the first instance, entitled to try any doctrino it advances by this prin ciple. For I presume even Hegelianism, in establish ing its own positions by proof, must in the first place assume these positions to be what they are alleged to be, and distinguish them from their contradictory opposites. Self - consistency, accordingly, must be postulated for any series of doctrines which even it may lay down. Otherwise perfectly opposite conclu sions might be drawn from the same principle, and thus all reasoning and all consistency of thought abolished. Now, applying this test merely, we have tho me-being conscious, or the individual self-conscious ness which we suppose we find by reflection in o in experience pronounced to be ultimately only an illusion. It seems to us to bo real. There is self with an attri bute or series of attributes, which is distinguished by us from any infinite self-consciousness which we may chance to apprehend or know in any way, as it is dis tinguished from other individual self - consciousness, which wo may find or conceive. If it be oulv individual or independent in appearance or seeming to itself, how can this seemingly illusory entity afford a process of proof or ground of reason for detecting tho true reality, which it, considered as independent, is not? If mv consciousness be in tho first instance illusory, fortified as it is by the law of non-contradiction, regarding tho nature and reality of my own being,— how can It be trustworthy, in tho second place, regarding the true or ultimate reality of my own being and oAtes infinite self-consciousness? Let it be observed, consciousness >S the only reality ; there arc not both consciousness and CX1V111 INTRODUCTION. w'lf +,m sefal'atl°n-. TIleso *™ °'« and the same. V\ ell, the only consciousness I as yet know is my own; louhr, tV f aS SU°h' and lt is imP°^iblo for me to ctoubt it. It asserts, as is admitted, its own independent individuality, as opposed alike to the Infinite sclf-con- scicmsness, to other individual finite self-consciousnesses; but in doing so, it deceives itself Can it any longer, alter that, bo accepted as a reasonable trustworthy ground for determining the true reality? Can the illusory consciousness be trusted to rise to tho true infinite al.uling sell-cunscousness? Such a deceitful conscious ness ,s obviously too ,-otten a foundation on which to Imitil oil tier philosophy or theology. r>. but it. may bo said tho Idea hero comes to our aid,— the idea in the march oi "tho immanent dialectic " This comes in to correct the ordinary consciousness, which is irreflective and superficial. It seems clear that the consciousness of individuality, of which we here speak, though common, has been dealt with by Descartes and others in nether an ineffective nor a superficial way. It has been tested and analysed as far back as analysis wnhm the limits of human intelligence will go. It has been found to assert itself under pain of self-annihila tion —of the annihilation of thought or consciousness itself. I suspect no other philosophy can give another or at least a deeper guarantee for its first principle. At least one would like to see it produced. But this imma nent dialectic of the idea, — wherein does it appear? How docs it make itself known or felt? I presume in consciousness, and within my consciousness,— within some individual consciousness ; otherwise it is not and cannot be anything to me or to any one conscious. But then my consciousness, my individual consciousness, is pronounced and confessed to be illusorv. It is deceitful in its very root ; in holding itself to be what it most intimately believes itself to be —in what it is absolutely constrained to think itself. How, then, does the imma nent dialectic of the idea, as at least in the first instance, INTRODUCTION. cxlix ¥1 y ." ii' f -1 A and as in knowledge, a form of consciousness, escape, the taint of this illusory consciousness in which it appears' How can I trust it when I cannot trust the dehver,-irice of the same consciousness regarding my own individu ality t Ihis dialectic may bo called nooesrerv — a necessary evolution of the idea,— and looked up' to as the march of omnipotence. But not less necessary -,d indisputable is tho self-assertion of consciousness and yet it is but illusion. Why may tho necessity of fhe immanent dialectic not be an illusion of the s„,„. (,e, SOioiisnoss? How, in fact, on such a principle, can we think it to bo anything olsc? IT tho «,„.,•„,, of ]„„„,.. lodgo be poisoned at its fountain, what caA purify its waters? Or if our intelligence bo a faulty and ilhAnrv pnsm, how can wc expect it to transmit Ar reflect the pure light of truth ? _ III. After what has been said of the inherent incon sistency of the theory, it is hardly necessary to inquire whether such a doctrine can be admitted as the neces sary and logical supplement of the view of Dcscartc- Hut it may be well to examine tho alleged ground of its proof. This touches on a question rcgardiim- the nature of consciousness, which has important general bearings.1 '^" Wo have, in tho passage quoted from Hegel, one si a fo ment which is tangible enough to be grasped and V- amined, and it is the principle of the whole. It seems that the consciousness of a limit overleaps or transcend* the limit,— m plain words, that when conscious of „ limit, say an opposite, contrary or contradictory I nece; sanly transcend that limit, and apparently talre it up into myself as a part of me— abolish it bv absortefon Th- reason of this which is given seems to be that', as an object of consciousness, it is within my knowtetee or consciousness; and whatever is so, ceases to be a item - or contrary to me It is fused with me in the unite of knowledge, and loses its character as an opposite' or 1 See above, p. exxxvi et s ,j. cl INTRODUCTION. contrary. I, tho conscious thinker, become both myself and tho limit which restricts me to myself-being. 1. The first thing to be said about this principle is that, if simply because a limit known is in consciousness, it is necessarily transcended or abolished — then there never can be a limit at all. For it is useless and nonsensical to say that it is only the being of which, there is no consciousness, or which is unknown, that could consti tute a limit of knowledge. What is unknown is for us undetermined to any alternative, or in respect of any predicate — either as this or that ; and so long as it is unknown, could bo neither limit nor tho roverso to us. If, then-fore, liinif, be to us at all, it must, bo a conscious limit, or a limit known in consciousness ; but how can it even be known as such if, tho moment I am conscious of it, it disappears ? The very possibility of the existence of limit is first of all taken away by saying that a conscious limit is not a limit at all ; aud yet it is immediately asserted that there is a liniit in consciousness to be taken awajr. 2. But let us look at this principle in its main ap plication, and we shall see how very vague the state ment is, and how thoroughly misleading it frequently is. Hegel speaks of consciousness ; but it is truly the conscious act which must transcend the limit, if it bo transcended at all. We cannot deal with consciousness in general, for we know it as a reality only in this or that special act. How let us look at the main classes of those acts, and test the alleged principle. Let us tako Sense — Perception. I apprehend, for example, a certain amount, and therefore limit, of space — say, as far as tho horizon. I am conscious at the same time that there is space be}rond what I actually see. I can imagine spaco beyond the visible space, and I can go en doing this indefinitely. Hero I transcend the limit of vision. But have I in any way abolished the visible limit? In no sense whatever. The bounds within which my vision is exercised remain to mo as much INTRODUCTION. Cli bounds as ever, — as definite andunimpassable by vision as before. I cannot see beyond the horizon. All that I have done is, that I have ideally added to the amount of space lying within the limits of vision. In so doing I in no way affect the limit of my original perception. I transcend it in imagination ; but I neither abolish it, nor do I absorb it in the consciousness which I havo of it, or of tho imaginative ideal which I join to it. And what is more, if I placo the act of imagination on the samo lcvol with the act of vision, because both are in consciousness, I make an assumption which I havo not, attempted to vindicate, and which is not viudi- cablo. For tho act of vision is primary and intuitive, and conversant with, an object of a totally different character from the secondary and ideal object of imagi nation. 3. Let us try the principle by reference to the limit ex perienced in Desire,— a favourite Hegelian illustration. To transcend the limit here, obviously means in thought. When we are conscious of desiring a particular object, we are conscious of the object desired, that we have it not in possession, and we can conceive ourselves as possessing it. That is " transcending " the '•' limit " im plied in the desire. Nobody need dispute this. It is stating the fact of desire and what is essential to it iu explicit words. But what then ? Is it transcending the- limit in any real or positive sense ? Does this con ception of what I seek put me, the seeker, in possession of tho object? In other words, is my consciousness of what I am or havo added to by the conception merely of what I want? In that case, to desire must mean that we have tho thing desired. The transcending tlm limit in the sense of being conscious of what the limit is, and reaching the limit in consciousness, are s,, wholly different things, that only a man inspired with the belief that his consciousness even of a possibility is the only actuality can accept such a conclusion. Nothim- could more clearly show that we arc here dealing with :li INTRODUCTION. ^Xrtneatli1ngreIated t0 ™** *«* " ** 4. But let us take logical limit. Here, if any where the doctrine ought to hold good, that the'consoiousne s of a limit transcends the limit. In the constitution of a notion we have limit ; limit is essential to the existence of a notion. In one point of view a notion is an attribute or set of attributes named; in another, it is the (ideal) sum of objects in which the attribute or attributes aro embodied. Here distinction, difference, therefore limit is essential. Tho attribute ol /,/;• e.g., marks off tho thing possessing it horn others which do not. Organisation does the same; and but for the distinction, and therefore limit, implied in the notions, there would be no conception knowledge, or thought at all. It may be said that because I am conscious of the attribute life, and there fore of its opposite or negative, I have transcended the Particular attribute. If to know what a thing is not, is to transcend the knowledge of what it is, I have. This can hardly seriously be regarded as either a novel or important discovery. But this is not all that is meant or implied m the transcending, and we must inquire whether there is abolition of the limit here, or absorp tion oi it m the mere consciousness of it. There is neither such abolition nor absorption. If the limit be abolished by my being conscious of it, there never was a limit to begin with, for there was no limit of which I was not conscious. And if the limit be abolished at all, then tho attribute itself is abolished, its very reality as an object of thought is subverted, and there is the blank ot knowledge. As to absorption in a third notion which embraces or is tdontical alike with life and its contradic tory opposite— or even contrary opposite— wo must wait until this third is produced. It is a mere confusion of thought to supposo that because I know opposites in one and the same act— grasp them in a unity of know ledge—the opposites themselves arc necessarily identi- INTRODUCTION. cliii hed or absorbed. Both are in consciousness ; and in his way the contrary may be said to be "the other" o he given attribute, but their real difference subsists all the same-subsist, m the consciousness itself, on pain of he very abolition of knowledge. Correlation eve cfe ttVtl '"A rd thG m°ment C01TClativ- - luentineci the correlation ceases. 5. Let us look at the principle in its application to the Dualism of Mind and Matter. Because wo are conscious of mind and matter as two real, ,es wo know (aro conscious) of something beyond ine dualism or limit. Thought is conscious, and conscious not only ol it- 1, but, ol extension. It transcends, therclore, tec ab solute demotion between itself and the other attributes " hat is this transcendent something now known ? "' a. Is it a unity in which the dualism disarrea- ,->' ne this, what proof is there ? Are we actually -AAA,-',- - , - any suclriunty— conscious as we are of tlA drteCte "" 6. Is the something the idea or conception ofte™. sibi bty of such a unity? How does this destroy the duabsm or limit If we are consci w ,^4^ of such a possibility, must we not always, to make his even intelligible, confront it with the dualism £ of which we are actually conscious ? In this case, the consciousness of somothiim beyond w a harmless hypothesis, waiting proof of its realitv £d s m utior ^ ° 1 * " "^^ a C°ii0n °f conscio listts b lit te! f A consciousness as embracing the possi bilities of thought. The ideal ecnceptioif of a limit lansccnded is not the actual transcending of the lb t ¦ ami it ought not to be put on the same level y,itl ' t' SH «-ss. This is to put possibllh v mde i- ;S (?allty-tl10 ^option of the conditio,,; thou^-ht. DS ^ P°SSible aS-nst actual definite c But let the object of knowledge c,,;n,,i in tllis transcendent act be supposed to be actually either f ],e cliv INTRODUCTION. CoteAoT 01' ,° Klettlty °f tl16 SUbJeCt a»d 0l^Ct Of consciousiiess In either case tho relation of contrast or opposition between the two disappears. We have a Knowledge above relation and difference, and, therefore above consciousness. This statement is a simple con tradiction m terms. Tho words knowledge and con sciousness cease to apply to these barren formula Tho absolute identity of subject and object in any form of con sciousness wc can reach, is no more to us than a square circle. And to rest tho assertion of such knowledgo or conscious,, ess on the simple statement that conscious ness, in apprehending a dualism, transcends itsolf, is to leave out lho only point demanding attention and proof <>. but tho statement may bo looked at in its htehest generality as referring, not to this or that definite act of consciousness, but to consciousness in general— con sciousness regarded as aware of limit in general in knowledge. It may be said-nay, must be said-logi- calfy, consciousness ultimately transcends itself — it passes into something beyond itself. What is the meaning of this ? Tho ultimate limit of consciousness is that which separates it from unconsciousness. When it passes into something beyond itself, does it pass into this opposite— the unconscious? In this case, tran scending itself is simply ceasing to be or to know. Our consciousness seems to be under the necessity of a logi cal suicide. ° 7. Wc havo a good deal of talk in these days of limit in thought as self-imposed, and therefore superable,— such as wc not only may but must overpass. In what sense is any hunt in thought scir-imposcd ? Is thought, then, complete— iolus, teres, atque rotundus,—and does it thus impose a limit on itself— a limit, say, of identity and non contradiction ? This is absurd; for if thought already be, it is independent of anything— bo it limit or other —which it may impose on itself,— it is thought com plete. It need not bo guilty of anything so foolish and arbitrary as this. But seli'-imposed limit is really an INTRODUCTION. civ absurdity. The limit in thought, or of thought, is the limit in or as which thought exists— under which it is possible. We think an object ; in doing so, wc think it as identical with itself,— that is one limit: wo think it as contradistinguished from what is not itself, that is another limit : and our thought as thought, as existing or real, is a consciousness of those limits. It does not impose them, for the simple reason that it, is not in ex istence before them, is in and Ibrondi them, and cannot exist apart from them. The truth is, that consciousness itself is impossible apart from Jiinit — njuui. Item the consciousness of self and not self, UM allirniali,,,, of this and that. And if consciousness always and necessarily transcends lho limit, it, always aud "necessarily tiaiis- conds its own reality, which, in plain English," means, it ceases to be. But the whole point lies in this, that while each opposite or contradictory is in consciousness, each is an opposite or contradictory still, notwithstand ing that they possess the common element of helm in consciousness. The fallacy lies in making tho common element of consciousness in each convertible with the difference of the opposites of which there is conscious- "f i'cr ThSVe 1S' in fact' the usual Hegelian disregard ot difference, because of a common clement. 8. Those who seem to hold this doctrine talk constantly of the doctrine to which it is opposed as imtevim- that knowledge is represented as limiting, and" that ail beyond this is the vaguo unlimited, or unqualified. xsow I certainly deny that this is a fair statement of tho position. Knowledge is not to be described as merely a limit-that would bo to define it by negation Knowledge, relative, or under limit, is a positives thhre the only positive thing we can have, and if is distinc tion or distinctiveness which guards it as such for "=-¦ It is tho content of our knowledge which males it re-d for us not tho bare limit. The h'mil, or law enables us to hold tho content definitely and distinr-ticely • and if there be no fixity iu that, there is simply chaos for us clvi INTRODUCTION. It is in the content, too, of our knowledge, that its variety lies, and its possibility of increase or development. It is in this, too, that change is possible, transmutation becoming development ; but this itself is impossible if every form of consciousness is superable. For what would be the course of human life and human know ledge if this wore so? If everything must pass over into its contrary — if we can never hold anything as fixed or won for thought, — then the aim of thought and bib is not, to roach tho perfection of a type, as we genera] ly imagine, but it is to go on in endless unrest. Mere mutation, whether in an endless line or in the Hegelian circle, is a low aim ; it is not true free dom, it is fate, and it is not worth living for. There must be an ultimate type to which life and thought aspire ; and such a conception is utterly incompatible with the doctrine that the content and the form of thought are equally unfixed. 9. One would expect cogent proof of such a theory as the foregoing. But really such is far to seek. Finite self- consciousness, it is said, implies infinite self-consciousness, as finite spaces presuppose infinite space. Is there any true analogy here ? Is finite self- consciousness related to any infinite self-consciousness, as the known points of space are to the imagined, whether indefinite and infinite ? In the case of space we repeat similars, — coexisting similars; we have as clear an idea of space from the smallest portion of it as from the greatest imaginable. It is at its full extent but a repetition of points. Is this tho case with regard to the relation between finite self- consciousness and infinite self- consciousness ? Is the infinite self- con sciousness simply the endless repetition of finite self- consciousnesses? In this case, wo should havo an infinite series of Unites, but this would not make 0110 infinite self-consciousness. Wo arc as far- — nay, farther — from unit} than when we started. Is the infinite self- consciousness presupposed a self-consciousness which is INTRODUCTION. clvii entirely above limit and predication of any sort, except the general statement that it is a self- consciousness absolutely without limit? This statement is really suicidal, — if not positively meaningless. The term self cannot be applied under such conditions ; and no more can the term consciousness. At any rate, such a self is not the self of consciousness which we know, and has no more logical or other connection with it than it has with non-entity, or the blank of indefinitcness. 10. The infinite self-consciousness and the finite self- consciousness aro two phrases which are bandied about as if they were equally grasped by us, and this infinite self- consciousness were as patent to our knowledge as our own self-consciousness is. But the truth is, that while we have a perfectly definite knowledge of our own self-consciousness, personality, and individuality, — as a matter of fact or fact in time, — we have no such knowledge of an infinite conscious personality. We may be led to infer it from our own consciousness or from other facts of our experience, or wo may try to conceive it. This even we shall find an exceedingly difficult task, — for a conscious personality above time and limit, yet divided into an infinity of personalities in time — a me that is every me, and yet itself above every me — is a conception the elements of which are by us positively irreconcilable. At any rate, this we do not find or ap prehend, as we do our own self-conscious reality. And to speak of the consciousness of God as on tic same level of apprehension and evidence as our own self- consciousness, without even offering explicit proof, is as bad a presupposition as can well be imagined. Wo might ask a question as to what, an infinite self- consciousness really means. It is an exceedingly am biguous phrase, — a phrase into which it is hardly pos sible to put a consistent meaning. The only internal analogy through which we can conceive are- meaning in it, is that of extending our self-consciousness to ihe universe. Wc know that we are conscious all through clviix INTRODUCTION. the bodily organism until wo meet with a limit to the sphere of our sentiency. This is tho truo and ultimate distinction between the finite Ego and the material non- Ego. We may carry this analogy with us, and suppose that there is an Ego who is conscious of himself all through the universe of being, as we are conscious all through our sentient bodily organism. But this is as yet to us nothing more than a conception or ideal. Wo have no warrant, simply becauso wo aro self-conscious within a certain sphere or limit, to supposo that thcro is an all-pervading consciousness which appropriates to itself as its own sphere of sentiency both all finite minds and all matter. Yet what olso docs an infinite self- consciousness properly mean? And will it, bo maintained that wo have an equal intuition of a boing of this character with that of our own individual exist ence within the sphere of sentiency? Is it not the height of unreason to maintain further that we can make this conception reconcilable with the individuality of finite minds? or that in this case the so-called reality of finite minds can be construed by us as anything but a mere dream? The self-conscious being who conceits himself as real, is merely a thing to which the infinite all-pervading consciousness permits a passing moment of self-illusion. But what are the terms in which the Infinite or in finite being, is represented ? It appears that wo con ceive of the Infinite Being by the very fact that we conceive of being without thinking whether it be finite or no. We may take this as an explicit statement of what is meant when there is talk of the infinite being. But what truly does this mean ? Would any ono acquainted with the. discussions on this point accept such a state ment as a correct description of what we suppose we mean when we speak of the infinite being? To be con scious of being, without thinking whether it be finite or no — this is thinking being infinite. Then, in that case, simply because we reach the indeterminate in INTRODUCTION. clix thought — neither finite nor the reverse, — we have got the infinite ! We do not predicate of the notion being. therefore our notion of it is infinite ! The cessation ol predication is the infinite 1 Well, such an infinite is not worth the paper it is written on. But is this con sistent with other statements that the infinite is an infinite self-consciousness — that it is spirit, and so on? Certainly not. This so-called infinite is the mere vague iiidotcrminato of thought. It is worse as a terminal description of tho infinite than even the indefinite of Mill. Tho true infinite, if there bo a positive infinite at all, in knowledge, is that of being in one or other or its forms — that is, intelligible being raised 1o such a hoight ol conception that wo are able on grounds of evidenco to say that it is an entity absolutely without bounds. This abstinence from thinking the object as either finite or not, is not a conception or statement, even in terms, of infinity or tho infinite ; it is a mere indeterminate possibility of thought, IV. But let us look for a moment at the bearings of this doctrine on Finite Beality, — especially the Person ality and Individuality of man. What is its fair logical consequence ? Is it consistent with the facts of our experience ? 1. Individual realities, if the expression be allowable, are tho most vain and passing things in the world. They have no true reality ; they are, but they are only as passing forms of tho outpour of tho infinite sub stance. They are as rain-drops to vapour ; the partial manifestations of the ultimate reality — again, perhaps, to return to vapour. All that can lie said is, that this infinite substance individualises itself only again to take the individual, perhaps, up into itself, or to lot it pass into other individuals ; but the idea of anything more than some necessary individualisafion need not be admitted. Tho whole sphere, therefore, of human individuality and personality, is swept away, so far as any distinctiveness or permanency is concerned. clx INTRODUCTION. Each individual is I, Thou, He, at a particular point of time ; but these Egos, or Selves, or Personalities have little or no meaning or concern in tho Universe. These arc simply forms in which the infinite sub stance must individualise itself. But that is all. Any other ego or self besides me and thee and him will do equally well, provided simply it is an ego. We pass away from time, and other egos come in our place — equally emanations of the infinite substance — and thus tho evolution or issue of this infinite substance is fulfilled. As to why and how I am horo, except that tho infinite necessarily evolves itself, I know not and need not care. As to where I am going, and whether I am going anywhere, — this is equally loft unaccounted for, except that probably I shall return into that infinite or indefinite, being — that neutrum of Personality and Impersonality from which I came. It might seem necessary here even to call in the common experience or consciousness of mankind, and to ask whether this is an adequate representation of reality as we find it in experience, or as we find it suggested in experience. A philosophy of this sort does not meet, it shirks essentially the questions of highest and most pressing interest to human life. Some development in things, — - a development even of a particular sort, and according to particular laws — it being indifferent all the while what are, whence are, and whither go the individualities, the conscious personal existences of the universe— except as accidentally filling up the scheme of things which alone subsists in the Eternal Substance or Reason, — this is a system which can satisfy only when faith and hope have fled from the breasts of men, and they are convinced that existence blossoms and comes to highest fruit only in the passing aggregate of human self-consciousnesses. 2. But consciousness by a man of his being merely a relative in the correlation of finite and infinite, really makes him to be— constitutes his being. No man, INTRODUCTION. cJxj everlT0' Who f °8 n°* ^ t0 tLis ™n^™sncss, ever is. Who among men m the past hay0 attained to this consciousness? Who of the actors, the speak ers, even the thinkers, of the world? Who in hisw have really ewer realised this within their own 'con sciousness ? I say none-not one-none until IW h nnself, if he did this-in formulating certain phrase ology It follows, therefore, that alf men befme nts SuxtevT^' ""ii 6J did' iU th0ir in<%endent indi viduality, have really never existed. Thev were not ¦ they were a mere illusion to themselves "'ITey lllTt,' roso to the speculative consciousness; they never the-/ fore, roso to mere being. Their lives are to bo sot. aside as merely side- waters, having nothing to do with the mom S "Ti/ lif" Th6y Cannot °™ bs -^ to it moments of the eternal being ; for they were never con scious of their true relationship to it, and therefore never- existed even as moments of it. Hegel could thus quite consistency, yet inhumanly, say that justice and' vir tue, injustice, violence, and vice, talents and their deeds passions small and great, guilt and innocence, tlie grandeur of individual and of national life, the indepm deuce and the fortunes of states and individuals 1 ave their meaning m the sphere of conscious reality but hat with hese the universal or world-history 1 lis no concern. It looks only to the necessary moment of the idea of tho world-spirit* " 3. To represent the world of human thought, feebly- and volition as in itself a mere negation; to do lie same regarding the world of extension, resistance colour, sound, and all the manifold varied of sensible experience ; to hold all this as a negation of an , finite something, which has never itself" truly com S in our consciousness at all,— is not to ehwafe but to grade our view both of man and the world. The!, t the most positive objects we know; and if amtetVl e be positive or real, it is because these are poteP e and 1 Phil. d. Rcchts, § 345; Werke, viii. 421. clxii INTRODUCTION. real, aud we know them to be such. So far from there being an infinite which is the only reality, there can be no innmte which is a reality at all, if these be not m themselves, as we experience them, what our con- sciousness testifies they arc, distinctive existences. Man s spirit, so far as it is a negation, is a negation of tee non-existent and tho unconscious ; and the world, so far as it is A negation, is a negation of infinite vacuity m tune and space. Thoso are tho notions negated, if wo are to talk of man and the world as negatives. The negation is of the previous absonco of being, by the position of being— of consciousness and material real ity. The true correlation is between the definite of Lino and space and tho indefinite of both or cither. But this is an unequal correlation ; it is not the subor dination of man and the world to a higher reality ; it is not the negation of a higher reality ; it is not the evo lution of these from it : it is simply the statement of tho real as opposed to the unreal,— which must be the limit and condition to us of any conception of reality at all. 4. Hegel himself no doubt imagines that he harmonises tho reality of the finite with the infinite, as he thinks that he conciliates realism and idealism. The ordinary view of tho reality of God and man is, according to him, this : " God is, and we are also." " This," he says, " is a bad synthetic combination. It is the way of the Kepresen- tation that each side is as substantial as the Other. God lias worship and is on this side, but so also finite things have being (Seyn). Reason, however, cannot allow this e-iuipollence to stand. The philosophical need is there fore, to grasp the unity of this difference, so that the difference is not lost but proceeds eternally out of the substance, without becoming petrified in dualism."1 Again : " Phamomenon is a continual manifestation of imirtenco by form. Iteality is neither essence or tho thing hi itseii. ii.-r phamomenon ; it is neither the ideal world nor fhe phenomenal world, — it is their unity, 1 Geseh. d. Philosophic, Wcrke. sv, 350. INTRODUCTION. clxiii their identity, the unity of force and its manifestation essence, and existence." ' _ The conciliation of infinite and finite thus Hven is simply to substitute for both a process, an ongohm or outcommg of the infinite, or indeterminate, called at a certain stage substance and spirit. Iteality is thus simply movement-movement in the phamomenal world Hub phenomenal movement,— for there is here really no pbamomcnal world,-is all that is cither of fhe materiel world or of finite spirit. It, is represented as an eternal process of creation and absorption It is a creation which creates only that it mav destroy; a 0,eate„i which simulates a dualism which novel- really is n any point of time or space. A dualism which ncver oxists in time is no dualism ; a dualism winch exists m thought only to be abolished or trampled out by that m which it exists, is a mere passing illusion. This is not a conciliation of realism and idealism ; it is the an- mhi ation of everything corresponding to reality, either in the material or the mental world. It is the resolu tion of both into a shadowy pageantry of a process m winch nothing proceeds. There is not the sin-blest ground for representing dualism as an absolute "oppo sition ; and not the slightest approach is made to a con ciliation of the finite and infinite bv fusing both into a process or relation between terms the distinctive realitv of each of which is denied. The pantheism which openly identifies God with the sum of all phareomena may be false ; it is not, an absolute or inherent violation of tee laws of intelligibility. 5. But. why speak of the phamomenal or of actual real ity at all on such a system ? The finite mind is simply m the process ; it is tho process. In that case to what, or whom is there a phrenomenal,-aii apparent? " JW lias it any menning unl„f,s tec-re ]¦• ,¦ ',}i - - ..r ';, intelligence who apprehends it? A^m, T ;:" „],' An,-, mcnal to the Infinite Spirit? This, however is as much in the process, or tho process itself, as the finite L elxiv INTRODUCTION. tical with the phJnonen of "'" t0 be iden- i«, that the H nt™reait XPen<3nC/? Tho trutl1 translated bv the 0 ial h J ^ ^^ M^ be 1-ving sitesti-atu VI eS ie TcZote IW' ^ --est passing illusion of reality ' "" " "^ ^ «"» self-hood, aid also with ™ r ' 1S Credltcd with S em Ur'in1m,°PP0Sit, in a thH-which is i - tircly v?t " ,'t W01'dS' tGnnS and Pt««eB en- t"^,"" l .te^d to'tnif58 " ^ » Con«^- •^ until it becomes a self-consciousness above the ue consciousness and all finite reality: for i is both u e consciousness and finite conscious ess it. s noil the one nor the other, but the fusing 0 bote that the unconscious nasses tern „„ ¦ -sumed, not proved : the * wl ich i TeT^" " sought to be shown by clokgtee ill^ £ consciousness or its terms; and thus the disputed fa0t is established only by a pelilio principii. T e grounc low ¦n-°nS ^ b°ir,ff; and tho ™«'t » ve t on . . ' , "" ?fcon,ra'lic«"n in which both b'.atne thought and pos.tive being disappear. The INTRODUCTION. chw so-called idealism is truly a veiled form of irroflcctive realism ; the so-called concrete, or positive result of tho system is merely nihilism, oral the utmost phamorme! inl" LpCii11S Yl f°r a m°ment at the Theological bear- mgs of the doctrine. It is adduced as a corrective ot prevailing views regarding the Divine Reality and xxature Ihero are some positions retrarding Deity whlch this advanced thought thinks itself competent to interpret n, its own way, and to correct.. It is *aid ¦.'St, that if the worhl or the finite material universe' bo regarded as originating i„ the liec-v.ill of Dtetv called arbilrary, ite connect.',,,, will, ]fi,„ ,.s |„ he re garded as " external," •¦ accidental," and astern,,,, no proper or necessary relationship to llim. It is said secondly that in order to giyo a reasonable cha,' acter to this relationship, the finite world must be re garded as somehow emanating from Him by a npr-p«-u-.- connection, which stands clear out in theAight of rcA on.; tl ?„ 7 Mly ?ammod> is fou,id to »«™- "»* only that there is such a necessary connection but that i ,s deduciblo from the very notion of D,ltv itself regarded as the Infinite ; and further, that this is dedm cible by us as a process of thought or consciousness 1. iNtew, with regard to the first point, it. is inoorre, < and unfair to represent origination or creation In- free- wi as an arbitrary act. It is to be regareled'as an arbitrary act only m the sense in which any. act of ree resolution is an arbitrary act-this andAaahiim bee P i^ ^ ne6d "^ 8'° lnt0 the action of bee -will to know that will, the hfohest and best form m resolution conceivable bv us, isAbat re-rla'te'd by a conception of what is most fitting and best in' the circumstances,-™-, if yOU choosAo employ a vague phrase, by reason. To say that, resoluAo,, necessarily arbitrary, is itself a mere arhttearv M - ¦ J.te So far fro,,, creation which depends" on ai Z "f hee-wdl, regulated by thought, evidcneiire ,m . clxvi ¦INTRODUCTION. an external or accidental relationship, it is in fact analogous to the very closest, most intimate of all the relationships of our own consciousness. For the closest tio wliich we know in our inward experience is just that which subsists between me willing and the resolution which I form. I relate resolution to myself in a way in which I relate no other mode of consciousness, — neither feeling, desire, nor thought itself. It is mine in the sense of boing truly my own creation ; and it is to me the most fitting of all analogies for the mysterious fact of Divine origination itself. Tho finite as' thus related to tho Infinite is truly the passago of the Divine power into actuality or realisation. It is only a purely verbal logic, founding on verbal assumptions, which can regard it as " external " or " accidental." If it is to be compre hended at all by us, it must bo in some such way as this, and by some such analogy. Will, the expression of per sonality, both as originating resolutions, and as mould ing existing material into form, is the nearest approach in thought which we can make to Divine creation. 2. With regard to the second point, — the so-called essential or necessary relationship of reason, — the first thing to be noted is, that the finite material or mental world, which arises in this way, is and must be the only possible world. If the Infinite is under a necessity of development, He will develop in one definite way, and in no other; and if He has developed in time, that de velopment is the one possible, and no other. Are we prepared to take this consequence ? Do the facts of experience wan-ant it? Does the physical or moral quality of tho world warrant it ? Can we ascribo to the finite material world which we find in experience more than a purely hypothetical necessity? No one, I think, wiU venture rationally to do more than this. Mechanical and chemical laws depend ultimately on atomic existence, proportion, combination, and colloca tion. Organisation and life are somehow also connected with those circumstances. But is it not conceivable that INTRODUCTION. clxvii those ultimate material constituents of the universe might have been different in various points of constitution and adjustment? Will it be maintained that the actual order which we know has arisen is the only possible order, — tho single necessary and essential development of the Infinite Power at the root of things ? Further, does not tho element of evil in the world imply a con tingency which is entirely incompatible with tho sup position of a single possible best evolution from an absolutely perfect Infinite? At any rate, can we with our lights provo this to be tho absolutely best even in tho long-run ? The theology resulting from these principles may lie summed up, in these words of Leibnitz, iu two propo sitions — " What docs not happen is impossible { what happens is necessary." l 3. But let us first take this necessary development of the Infinite or Absolute. Is it speculatively self- consistent? The finite comes from it necessarily— nay, it is, as it originates the finite, material and spiritual. Its reality is, therefore, dependent on its necessary development and relation to tho finite : the finite is as necessary to it as it is to tho finite. Yet this prior term of a mere relation is an absolute — an infinite, self-sufficient, — as such needing nothing but itself fru its existence ! Tho term absolute or infinite has no longer the slightest application. The prior term here is a relative— purs and simple, — a more relative, de pendent for its meaning — nay, its reality — on a develop ment which it can no more control than the bodv which gravitates can regulate or reverse its own movement. A god who is only as ho must be, producing the con tents of space and time — who is only a means to these contents, — is about the lowest form of mechanical agency over sot up for man to worship. But further. if an infinite or absolute cause is necessarily- at work, must not the effect bo an infinite or absolute one? Ii 1 Lcltre tX M. L'Abb: Sicaise, Enl. p. 139. clxviii INTRODUCTION. tho cause works necessarily, without let or control, must not its whole power pass into act in the single given operation or moment of action? -Then, what have we here ? Hot a finite result, surely, but a result infinitely or absolutely great, and, therefore, coequal Willi tho infinite or absolute power at work. But what an absurdity does this land us in ? Either the absolute perishes in the act of necessary development, and wo have a new absolute in its effect— Deity has perishod m creation, — or we havo two absolutes — an absolute cause and an absolute effect — coexisting in tho uni verse. 'Ibis is an inherent absurdity ; and further, what then becomes of our absolute monism? 1. But havo we considered the full effect of the state ment that the finite is as necessary to the infinite as the latter is to the former ? I am quite willing to take the finite here spoken of as the finite in some form- not the actual finite of space and time. Let it bo any finite form of being whatever. Deity, in order to be, must produce this actual finite. His reality is depend ent on it. What kind of Deity is this ? A Deity wait ing for his reality on the finite thing which he cannot but produce ? The cause dependent for its reality on the effect ? We are accustomed to think oi Deity as possessing existence in himself— necessary and self- sufficient ; and if he have not this, he has no more or other reality than any finite thing which arises in tho succession of causality. But here, forsooth, he waits on necessary production for his reality ! Is this con ception at all adequate or worthy of God ? Is not the self-conscious I, with its free power of will, higher than this? — a better and more elevating way of conceiving of God ? Is it not a higher perfection than this to be able to say I will, or [do not will — yet I retain my individuality : I am tho centre and the possessor of powers which I can use, or not use, as intelligence directs me, and as moral interests require? Is not this a higher grade of being than a something which depends on tho neces. INTRODUCTION. :b nary production of a given effect for its reality, and which, further, must also depend for tho continuance of its being on tho continuance of the given effect ? For this is the logical result of the doctrine, even granting it the most favourable terms. For unless the effect continues, which is not provided for by the theory, the producing power might quite well be supposed to pa.ss away with its own necessary effort. And this is to be oar advanced conception of Deity ! 5. But, further, finite being as an evolution of in- finito being is certainly variable as to content. Wo need not again point out the absurdities of the neces sary development of infinite being. Is the finite being or development not variablo in content a! the will — the. reasonable or righteous will, it may be — of the Infinite one? Then what becomes of his infinity? Can we conceive a Being as infinite who is restricted to a single development of finite being? But if he is not so restricted, but may evolve several forms of finitude, how can it be said that the finite as a given form is equally necessary to the infinite, as the infinite is to the finite? If a conscious personality is possessed of free-will, how can it be said that a given resolution which he forms is as necessary to his power of free- determination as free-determination with all its possi bilities is to it? Such a position can be maintained only on the suicidal basis that a given finite is as neces sary to the infinite, as tho infinite with all its inherent possibilities is to it. 0. Then, further, there is tho point to be established that we have any conception, thought, or notion of the Infinite which is at all adequate, or truly distinguishable from what is strictly an analogical notion, — whether, in fact, the Infinite, in any form, is so comprehensible bv us as to bo the. basis of a necessary evolnt ion of thought. For even although it be admitted that finite and infinite arc as thoughts eorrclai ive, it has yet re be shown that they are of the same nature, positive content or reality. clxx INTRODUCTION. Unless this character can bo vindicated to tho Infinite as a notion, it cannot bo made the basis of a necessary evolution m thought-of the actual finite, or anything with positive attribute. J""""e> 7. Then this evolution, even if compassable by our thought is but a process of thought. It would' be tho ideal mode m which tho Divino Power was sup posed to work ; but it, would fall far short of any ac tual realisation of tho ideal in tihtc. It is, after all, but a process of reasoning, in which the Infinite is assumed as major notion, and in which, accordingly, wo lave but a hypothetical conclusion. But wo have really no guarantee that the process either represents or is identical with anything in time, or that it is adequate to or convertible with tho evolution of that finite world which we know in experience. The mode or ideal of Divine 1 ower, however distinctly conceived, leaves us wholly m tho dark as to whether the Power was ever exercised or not. This can only be guaranteed on the assumption that the process of necessary consciousness through which we proceed is identical with Divine action, —that m fact, our thinking, sublimated to the imper sonal form of thought, is God's act in Creation. This is but a part of the larger assumption that the real is the rational,— or rather, that reality means certain so-called necessary processes in the human consciousness, call it reason or by what name you choose. This assumption, as unproved as it is unprovable, is contradicted by tho tact that tho whole concrete world of the sciences of nature and of mind is utterly untouched by it. It is in capable of yielding a single fact or general law of nature or of mind as manifested in consciousness. Hegel's Philosophy of Nature and bis Philosophy of Spirit have been long ago generally given up as utter failures in point of consecutive thinking or fair evolution. They are, the mere manipulations of a harlequin logic, which borrows in the premisses under ono guise' of words what it brings out in the conclusion under another. INTRODUCTION. clxxi 8. But what, on such a philosophy, is Deity ? Or rather, where is the place of Deity at all? If Ae look at the first stage of the development, Ho is the most abstract conception possible,— the Idea in itself,— what may be identified with nothing, yet credited with the power of motion. This first moment is not even real. The Idea becomes real or actual only in tho develop ment, in the process. But this, again, is not absolute reality. We find this the highest si ago only in fhe Idea when it becomes absolute Subject or ilgo, and Contemplates itsolf as everything that is. In oilier words, tho unconscious abstraction called thought, not at first God, not God even in the process, becomes ab solute solf-consciousness in the end. He is dependent even for this consciousness,— that is, for his reality,— on retracing the steps wliich he has somehow taken into the realm of nature, where he was "out of himself," and so in the end finding himself in his own supreme con scious identity. This result may bo translated into in telligible language by saying that Deity is ultimately the highest point which human consciousness can reach in the way of evolution or development. He is the most which I can think Him— nay, he is I when I have in consciousness transcended myself, and identified myself with Him. Of course it will be said I, the individual ego of this or that conscious momont, am not God. But then I, tho individual ego, am necessary to His existence,— as He, the infinite ego, is necoAsary to mine. His reality lies in tho conscious relation which I, the individual, think as connecting me and Him. This relation is matter of my thought or consciousness. It is not, unless in the consciousness of some one. Deity, therefore, at tho best or highest, is a process of my consciousness. As I think, God is; arid what I think, God is. The step from this to the degradatfou of Deity to tho actual sum or tho generic conception of human consciousness is easily, and has been pr,„H-rl\ taken. The Hegelian Deity is reallv man himself- cl.xxii INTHOIWCTION. regarded as the subject of a certain conscious relation- 9. Deity, as standing in necessary relation to man is dependent on man for his reality ; Anan, as standing in necessary relation to Deity, is dependent on Deity for his reality Ihe reality in either case is equal: Deity has le reality winch man has; man has the reality which Heity possesses. They aro two terms of one relation, •'"d Does Ins solution help us, or must we tel-e ito « q . ,', is not n person beside and above other r,1W]1H \ but, Ho is the eternal movement ot the universal tnaki,,- iteeP cb INTnODUCTION. not then to be conceit , ?e!:s°nal1^ of G°d ought '"hvcrsal pe,-sonalitv n TmAlvf™1; but as a total, absolute, i tin nceSixy to T 1 °f ?m^S the unifying itsSf toTfiS^i18"™ t0 COnCeiVG ft aS P- n~^ "T ? G°d " thG etemal itself! What may The '^ '? itself snb.i°°* to 'l its orie.' 1, A , roe,1 S I* 1T°m°nt' hnt ^ H'oing of tl,„,o.s ,md xAj A, i n'°anS tho 0U- rcaches is teal i col • \°1% Perso™hty he is or -ti-.,,L.s is mat in collective hnmqm'tvO n perly retain the name of Go Xr lU A ™ W°' bow the knee to a Juggle of words ? " ? *** ™ t0 ,n;1 eX^ °f t^ attributes of God in ordinary lan- stand? Z I6110™ m them- Ho^ do we now b ™m^^S'^t,? PTOCeSS haTO ^tributes? It "as h ttelbXs ^ TtVeiTnanie7 " ^ ^k^ --bed "all i God ^^Baiousnesa. Yell ,i-i ¦ A. , J-nat 1 cannot do. Tho lfM on "God" ttT Pr°°eSS ibeC°m0S -^°-LS aione Uod It ne\ cr possessed an attribute till now • it was formerly simply a ereature of necessary ^S/i* -though how it should be so muoh, nobody earn tel 4. Strauss, in the Leben Jesu fmi fi^ \,Ja t 1 • • to exhibit the essence of Cl^^ddit it W its external accidental, and temporary fo ms Til was a true Hegelian conception. But n was dear tea the historical character of the books and acto is couTd °nh the historical character, but the distinctive doc- 1 The Chnsll. Glaubcnshhre, iii. 505-521. INTRODUCTION. clxxvii trines, rapidly disappeared in the development of the school, in the writings of Ludwig Feuerbach,1 Bruno Bauer,2 and Arnold Huge.3 The movement was entirely in the line of diminish ing, — in fact abolishing the supernatural or divine, and equally the matter of fact or historical. The shadow of being in itself and pure thought to which, the Divine had already been virtually reduced, naturally gave. place to a deification of humanity— not merely an anthro pomorphic god. HiTaanity itself having no true divine substratum, lost both tho knowledge of its origin and tho hopo of immortality. The movement which began on tho height of tho loftiest idealism thus issued, as might have beeu anticipated, in a hopeless naturalism, — in the simple identification of all things with God, — and ethically in an intellectual arrogance wliich conceits itself as the depository of the secret of the universe, — while it is too narrow to know even the facts. VII. The representation of the doctrine of Dual ism made by Hegel and his followers is thoronghly incorrect. Dualism is, of course, the great bugbear, whether it relate to the finite realities of consciousness and extension, or to the contrast of the finite and in finite realities. The predicates in these cases are said to be held as fixed and insuperable by fhe ordinary doctrine of dualism, whereas Hegelianism introduces identity, — even the identity of contradictories. In particular it is insisted on (1), that on the ordinary dualistic presupposition, as it is called, there is an absolute opposition between the infinite and the finite ; and (2), that this is unphilosophical, for the finite in this case must be regarded either as something independent of the infinite — and this involves an obvious contradic- 1 See especially Das Wescn des Chrislenlhunu , 1811 : 1& ed.,lS-l-3. Mensch odcr Christ, 1845. 2 In his philosophical writings from 1S36. See also A'ritik J.er -.van- gel.iv.hcn Geschichle der Synopliker, 18-11-2. 3 Chiefly in the Jahrbiicher. clxx viii INTRODUCTION. I tion— or it must be regarded as absolutely a non-entity. Statements of this sort abound in Hegelian writings. One preliminary point to bo noted here is, that tho - doctrine of the absolute opposition of finite and infinite is to bo set down as unphilosophical, because it would involve a transparent contradiction. As contradiction is a legitimate moment in tho Hegelian dialectic, tho opposttion must so far be right enough; and even if 'be opposition be absolute, tho absurdity is not greater (ban the alleged idenlity 0r fhe two terms, by which ij is sought lo solve ii. The consistent cooxis'tenco in thought ol finite aud infinite is certainly not a greater absurdity Item a supposed concept in wliich the two become identical. Contradielion, according to criticism ol this sort, must be absurd when it is' regarded as fixed and rational when it is regarded as superable. In the latter case, the only mistake is that tliore was no contradiction to begin with. But is this a true representation of the position of a dualistic philosophy m the matter? Is a dualist shut up to hold either the absolute independence of tho finite or its non-entity ? Why, what is the opposition between the infinite and finite which the dualist really alleges? It is not an absolute opposition in the nature of things. It is an opposition merely in the act of knowledge. Ami the dualist is entitled to say this with a view to vindicate the position, until it is proved that all the opposition wo thmk is identical with all the opposition which exists, or that these are, convertible. For the Hegelian to assume this is to miss the wholo point at issue. between him and fhe dualist. Tho dualist docs not accept the convertibility of knowledge and existence, and it is only on this assumption that ho can bo shut un, and then only on his own principles of logic, to the alien, alive of a eonl radiction between finite and inlinite, or of the. non-cntil.y ol' the former,— or for that matter,' ol the latter also. Put. no reasonably intelligent up holder of dualism, or, which is tho saino thing, tho INTRODUCTION. clxxix relativity of knowledge, would allow that, the opposi tion which he finds in consciousness between finite and infinite is an absolute opposition, or one implying a fixity or absoluteness in the nature of thimrs In fact tho very phrases, limit of knowledge or 'relativity of knowledge, imply that the fixity or invariableness of tho limit is in the thought or consciousness. When wo speak of a limit to tho understanding, we speak of the extent of our power of conceiving things; but we do not nocossarily imply that, tho thim-n conceived arc really permanently and invariably fixed or determined by, or as is tho capacity of, our thought. It is said lor example, the thought, of finite existence,-- ;,,,v lllVM„ir —renders it impossible for us to think orconcche as coexisting with it an infinite self or being. Iter fhe sphere of boing the finite self occupies— the sum of our being, — is excluded from that sphere or sum possessed by the infinite self whom we attempt to conceive, and he is thus conceived as limited. But in doing so wo do not affirm that a conciliation of this inconceivable is impossible, or that in the nature of things, tho finite and infinite reality wliich we vainlv attempt to conceive together are really incompatible It is, therefore, nothing to the point Ao talk of the predicates of the understanding being regarded as fixed permanent, or invariable, in fhe doctrine of the imitation of knowledge; for this is, after aU but a subjective limitation which is maintained and is in no way inconsistent with the possibility 'of bom- transcending conception. We say merely that Ac cannot conceive tho compatibility of an infinite bcim- with our own finite existence. We do not say or allow mat what wc conceive is necessarily convertible with what is, or with the possibilities of lAiie-. Wo ere not therefore, shut up to maintain the ate/Aito opposition and consequently the absolute contradielion in' ,,,i1,ty" ol mfinito and finite. Nor are we, therefore compelled to regard the finite as a non-entity in tho mteiv.st o! clxxx INTRODUCTION. the infinite, nor the infinite as a non- entity in tho interest of the finite. For despite the limitation of our knowledge, in some way unknown to us as to process or ground, the co-reality of finite and infinite is, after all, compatible. Nay, in a transcendent sense, "all being may be one. It is not even necessarily maintained on the doctrino of limitation that the finite is more than temporally distinct from the infinite. Evidence to decide those, points must bo sought for outside the 1 henry of limitation. Tho real question at issue between absolutism and tho theory of limita tion is not, as lo 1he possibility of being out of and beyond limit, — or being that surmounts limit — for tin- lorn, or is constantly loudly proclaiming this, and proclaiming it even as the only real being,— but as to the possibility of our knowing such being, and connecting it conceivably and rationally with the being we know in consciousness. Kelativist as well as ab solutist maintains being above limit; they differ simply as to whether this can come within consciousness, in a sense in which it is to be regarded as truly and properly knowledge, — and as to whether we can so relate tho definite knowledge and being wo have in consciousness with this transcendent something called knowledge and being. If what has been already said be at all well founded, we can rise above the temporal contrast of finite and infinite in thought only by sacri ficing knowledge, — by becoming the absolute idontity of tho two we are supposed to know. In this region wo may expatiate at will among tho " domos vacnas et, mania regna ' of verbalism; but we shall not gather from it either what is fitted to increase the reverence of the heart, or what may help us to read more intelli gently the lessons of the past, or guide us better in the conduct of life. All that the doctrine of limitation requires to mako it, consistent and valuable is, that whatever happens in the future of Ihe universe, nothing shall occur in abso- T INTRODUCTION, clxxxi lute contradiction of what wo now rationally know and believe. Our present consciousness may bo, probably will bo, modified — in some sense, perhaps, tianscendcd. But it must not be contradicted. Our analogical know ledge of God, even if raised to the stage of intuition, will receive greater compass, directness, and certainty; but this will not bo at the expense or the reversal ofA-i single thoroughly-tested intellectual or moral conviction. DISCO CKSE on ¦rnv. METHOD OF EIGHTLY CONDUCTING THE EEASON AND SEEKING TRUTH IK THE SCIENCES DESCARTES TRANSLATED FPOM THE FRENCH AND COLLATED WITH THE LATIN [PliEFATORi XOTE BY THE AUTHOR.] Ir this Discourse appear too long to be read at once, it may be divided into six parts: and, in the first, will bo found various considerations touching the Sciences; in tho second, the principal rules of the Method wliich the Author has discovered; in the third, certain of the rules of literals which he has deduced from this Method; in the fourth, the reasonings by which he establishes J the existence of God and of the Human Soul, which are the foundations of his Metaphysic; in the fifth, the order of the Physical- questions which he has investi gated, and, in particular, the explication of the motion of the heart and of some other difficulties pertaining to Medicine, as also the difference between the soul of man and that of the brutes; and, in the last, what the Author believes to be required in order to greater ad vancement in the investigation of Nature than has yet b'-en made, with the reasons that have induced him to write. DISCOURSE ON MimiOD. PART I. Good Sense is, of all things among men, the most equally distributed ; for every one thinks himself so abundantly provided with it, that those c\ en who are tbc most difficult to satisfy iu everything else, do not usually desire a larger measure of this quality than they already possess. And iu this it is not likely that all are mistaken : the conviction is rather to be held as testifying that the power of judging aright and of distinguishing Truth from Error, which is properly what is called Good Sense or Reason, is by nature, equal ^ in all men ; and that the diversity of our opinions, con sequently, docs not arise from some being endowed with a larger share of Reason than others, but solely from this, that we conduct our thoughts along different ways, and do not fix our attention on the same objects. For to be possessed of a vigorous mind is not enough ; the prime requisite is rightly to apply it. The crcatest , minds, as they arc capable of the highest excellencies, \ are open likewise to the greatest aberrations ; aud Uure: i mscoonsB who travel very slowly may yet make far greater pro gress, provided they keep always to the straight road, than those who, while thoy run, forsake it. For myself, I have never fancied my mind to be in any respect more perfect than thoso of the generality; on tlie contrary, I have often wished that I were equal to some others in promptitude of thought, or in clear ness and distinctness of imagination, or in fulness and readiness of memory. And besides these, 1 know of no other qualities Hint contribute to tho perfection of I lie mind ; for as to the Reason or Sense, inasmuch as H is that alone which constitutes us men, mid distin guishes us from the brutes, I am disposed to believe that it is to be found complete in each individual ; and on this point to adopt the common opinion of philosophers, who say that the difference of greater and less holds only among the accidents, and not among the /orms or natures of individuals of tho same species. I will not hesitate, however, to avow my belief that it has been my singular good fortune to have very early in life fallen in with certain tracks which have con ducted mc to considerations and maxims, of which I have formed a Method that gives me the means, as I think, of gradually augmenting my knowledgo, and of raising it by little and little to the highest point wliich the mediocrity of my talents and the brief duration of my life will permit mc to reach. For I have already reaped from it such fruits that, although I have been accustomed to think lowly enough of myself, and al though when I look with the eye of a philosopher at the varied courses and pursuits of mankind at large, I find scarcely one which docs not appear vain and use less, I nevertheless derive the highest satisfaction from the progress I conceive myself to have already made OK METHOD. in the search after truth, and cannot help entertaining such expectations of the future as to believe that if, among the occupations of men as men, there is any ono really excellent and important, it is that which I have chosen. After all, it is possible I may be mistaken ; and it is but a little copper and glass, perhaps, that I take for gold and diamonds. I know how very liable wc are to delusion in what relates to ourselves, and also how much the judgments of our friends are to be suspected when given in our favour. ISut I shall endeavour in thisDiscourso to describe the paths I have followed, and to delineate my life as in a picture, in order that, each one may be able to judge of them for himself, and that in the general opinion entertained of Lhem, as gathered from current report, I myself may have a new help towards instruction to bo added to those I have been in the habit of employing, My present design, then, is not to teach the Method which each ought to follow for the right conduct of' his Reason, but solely to describe the way in which I have endeavoured to conduct my own. They who set themselves to give precepts must • of course regard themselves as possessed of greater skill than those to whom they prescribe ; and if they err in the slightest particular, they subject themselves to censure. Rut as this Tract is put forth merely as a history, or, if you will, as a tale, in which, amid some examples worthy of imitation, there will be found, perhaps, as many more which it were advisable not to follow, I hope it will prove useful to some without being hurtful to any, and that my openness will lind some favour with all. From my childhood, I have been familiar with loi ters ; and asl was given to believe that by thcirholr 6 DISCOUKSE a clear and certain knowledge of all that is useful in life might be acquired, I was ardently desirous of in. strnclion. Rut as soon as I had finished the entire courso of study, at the close of which it is customary to be admitted into the order of the learned, I completely changed my opinion. For I found myself involved in so many doubts and errors, that I was convinced I hnd a,lv:m ' »" farther iu all my attempts at. learning, than the discovery at ex cry turn of my own ignorance. And yet I was studying in one of the most celebrated Schools in Europe, in which 1 thought there must be learned men, if such were anywhere to be found. I had been taught all that others learned there; and not contented with the sciences actually taught us, I had, in addition, read all the books that had fallen into my hands, treating of such branches as arc esteemed the most curious and rare I knew the judgment whjch others had formed of me; and I did not find that! was considered inferior to my fellows, although there were among them some who were already marked out to fill the places of our instructors. And, in fine, our age appeared to me as flourishing, and as fertile in powerful minds as any preceding one. I was thus led to take the liberty of judging of all other men by my self, and of concluding that there was no science in> existence that was of such a nature as I had previouslyf been given to believe. •--' I still continued, however, to hold in esteem the studies of the Schools. I was aware that the Lano-u.-mes taught in them arc necessary to the understanding of tho writings of tho ancients ; that the grace of Fable stirs the mini! ; thai the memorable deeds of History elevate it ; and, if read v.ith discretion, aid in forming the judgment; that the perusal of all excellent books is, as it were, to ON MKIIIOI), mterview with the nobiesl men of past ages, who have written then, and even a studied interview, in which are discovered to us only their choicest thoughts; (hat Eloquence has incomparable force and beauty; that Poesy has its ravishing graces and delights ; that in the Mathematics there are many refined discoveries emi- i ncntly suited to gratify the inquisitive, as well as fm- Ithernll the arts and lessen the labour ol man ; (hat numerous highly useful precepts and exhortations to virtue aro contained in treatises on Morals ; that Theo logy points out the path to heaven ; jhjU_l'hitesophy dhl to know something of the manners of different nations, that wo may be enabled to form a more correct pufom.cnt re garding our own, and be prevented from thinkiim that everything contrary to our customs is ridiculous and irrational,— a conclusion usually come to by tho:<-> as regulate their conduct by cxamn o.uicsolthe kinght-errants of Romance, and to cn- tc an, projccls that exceed theh- powers. I esteemed ICIoquencc highly, and was in raptures V" Poesy; but I thought that both were gifts o the faculty of Reason is predominant, and who most k. folly dispose their thoughts with a view to rem verncd by our d siZ ' " lc"^h of «'«*, go- -v- — „cd ,,s lor s : : n r;: t°; ,wr,T »i- tl,at i( " --dnu,,,, impossible thai o„J ' C°noI,,de™ng a state by funda- was. tnm „c ¦ •- ° same t thoimln on„: aa:a :::; ::r:r~':s i"° ^ H'te bac undergone thc scrutiny of Keason. I ON METHOD. 15 firmly believed that in this way I should much better succeed in the conduct of my life, than if I built only upon old foundations, and leant upon principles which, in my youth, I had taken upon trust. For although I recognised various difficulties in this undertaking, these were not, however, without remedy, nor once to be compared with such as attend the slightest reformation in public affairs. Large bodies, if once overthrown, tire with great difficulty set up again, or even kept erect when once seriously shaken, and thc fall of such is al ways disastrous. Then if there arc any imperfections in (he constitutions of states, (and that main' such exist the diversity of constitutions is alone sufficient to assure us,) custom has without doubt materially smoothed thcii inconveniencics, and has even managed to steer alto gether clear of, or insensibly corrected a number which sagacity could not have provided against with equal effect; and, in fine, the defects arc almost always more tolerable than the change necessary for their removal; in the same manner that highways which wind among mountains, by being much frequented, become gradu ally so smooth and commodious, that it is much better to follow them than to seek a straighter path by climb ing over the tops of rocks and descending to the bot toms of precipices. Hence it is that I cannot in any degree approve of those restless and busy meddlers who, called neither by birth nor fortune to take part in the management of public affairs, arc yet always projecting reforms; and if I thought that this Tract contained aught which might justify the suspicion that I was a victim of such folly, I would by no means permit its publication. I havo never contemplated anything higher than the re formation of my own opinions, and basing them on . re; D1SCOUI1SE S U J ^ °Wn- A"d aUho"Sh »7 own draft of it "^ W°rk h"" ,0d "° te P"^t hero a tn ' °f U' Id0 "ot b7 an7 means therefore recommend whomT°oi°h " t0,make a simila-^Pt tTo -bom God has endowed with a larger measure of genius will entertain, perhaps, designs still more «- ¦hed; but for (he many I am much afraid lest even tlm present undertaking be more than they can safely venture ,o imbatc./Tbe Sing,e design to strip one's self •'" l«'st beliefs ,s one that ought not to bo taken by clTs'7 ° T T';° 'm'i0n'ly °f ",c" is comP°«"l of two classes, for neither of which would this be at all a be- httmg resolution: in the first place, of those who with umre than a due confidence in their own powers, are Pi-ecipuate m their judgments and want the patience requisite for orderly and circumspect thinking; whence |t happens, that if men of this class once take the liberty to doubt of their accustomed opinions, and quit the beaten highway, they will never be able to thread the byeway that would lead them by a shorter course, and v.l lose themselves and continue to wander for life • m the second place, of those who, possessed of sufficient' sense or modesty to determine that there are others who excel them in thc power of discriminating between truth and error, and by whom they may be instructed, ought rather to content themselves with the opinions of such than trust for more correct to their own Season. If or my own part, I should doubtless have belonged to the latter class, had I received instruction from but one master, or had I never known the diversities of opinion that from time immemorial have prevailed among mCn 0f the greatest learning. But I had be come aware, even so early as during my college life, Uat no opinion, however absurd and incredible, can ON METHOD. -, ¦ W imagined which has hot been maintained by some one of the philosophers; and afterwards in the con™ of my travels I remarked tint -,11 tl,n,„ i also the very different character vhicl a t i breT "o^ wutuil would have possessed had he live! ah,-,,,. ' *iirt oi • •¦- > m-, ij \ m .11 \\ ;j v;? anion f be Chinese or with savages, and thc cireunis, « "-t m dress itself the fashion which pleased , t -hismomente^:^-^ led to infer that the^ground of our opinions is " i custom and example than any certain knowlectec" A 1 1 foially a h 0ugh such be the ground of our optio ' parked that a plurality of suffrages is no L Z t of ruth where it is at all of difficult discovc s m such cases it is much more likely that it v 1 , V i, by one than by many. I coidd however. Lfr ' J crowd no. one whose opinions seemed w 1 preference, and thus I found myself contained i it -et0 use my own Reason in tee coiiduetoihte1 Bit hk0 one walking alone and in the da, 1,7 ,[ olve to proceed so slowly and with such eireimisp - ^0 fn ^ lld:0;.ad— ^I-uldatleastgird i ' t] J d' . .« eve» <*««* to dismiss Auni- liefoi,! \ u °P!ni°nS ,Imt ha;1 «^l'l i».o my be. Sre7s^ M nil took sufficient (,n,Q carefully to satisfy mv^f of ^general natureorthetaslawLcttingniiif; Ii;; IS DISCOCaaE ascertain the true Method by which .A • knowledge of whatever lay Sthi to ° "I ^ powers. } a the c°mpass of my her^riofl^ tho, t he ' ° att°"t 0" t0 L°*ic> ™* among a,, d ^,u : tr ^ to Geomc,ricai Anai^is »* » > ¦ , three Arts or Sciences which ought, as I con- Ii;1*: of: whnt - ai— 7 know, Nation of fl,; 1 lg"°rant' tbanin the »»'es- conte Z h id 1 " 7"; and aUh0U8h this Science P t ho -I * nUmb°r °f C°rreCt and -ry excellent Precept, there are, nevertheless, so many others and goiter injurious or superfluous, minted Sit oimci, that it is almost quite as difficult to effect a "or0 a Mi ln'e f'f°m ^ «*» ™ " i8 t0 -- Th n " to tl T T ' r°USh bl°ck °f """We. bin as to the Analys.s of tho ancients and the Afoebra o 11 c moderns, besides that they embrace only „ir!te ng re "S'Vel7 r°S!ricted t0 the consideration of con, r '^ eXCnaS0 the Understanding only on z irroHr-7faUsninstho^nnu»r*«niin ue ad'f 7" ? ComPlote "^ Ejection to ccrto rules and formulas, that there results an art full of con- m,e fo^T 77° lh° mind" B7 these con- « I I was induced to seek some other Method "['^-•dd comprise tho advantages of the three and Rqu-Jcneun ,',' li'A", "iT b° ^ "' c1ui™'™t «™I'lj to thr ON METHOD. 10 be exempt from their defects. And as a multitude of laws often only hampers justice, so that a state is best governed when, with few laws, these are rigidly ad ministered ; in like manner, instead of the great num ber of precepts of wliich Logic is composed, I believed that (ho hair following would prove perfectly sufficient forme, provided I took tho firm and unwavering resolu tion never in a single instance to fail in observing tbem. The first was never to accept anything for true ..which I did not clearly know lo ho such; that is to say, carefully to avoid precipitancy and prejudice, and _to comprise nothing more in 1113- judgment ihan what yvas presented to my mind so clearly and distinctly a? to exclude all ground of doubt. The second, to divide each of the difficulties under examination into as many parts as possible, and as might be necessary for its' adequate solution. The third, to conduct my thoughts in such order that, by commencing with objects thc simplest and easiest to know, I might ascend by little and little, and, as it were, step by step, to the knowledge of fhe more complex; assigning in thought a certain order even to those objects which in their own nature do not stand in a relation of antecedence and sequence. And the last, in every case to make enumerations so complete, and reviews so general, that, I might be as sured that nothing was omitted. The. long chains of simple and easy reasonings by means of wliich geometers arc accustomed to roach the conclusions of their most difficult demonstrations, had led mo to imagine (hat all things, to the knowledge of wliich man is competent, are mutually connected in the same way, and that (.here is nothing so far 1 mm cd from us as to be beyond our roach, or so hidden that 20 x>ISCODKSE -opting (he Z 77 C"1'™ abstai» f-m our thoughts tlie order A ' "7 ahv^s P^erve ia one trutefron a„o7ei 777 7 ^ dcductio" «f determining the obiects 7 i ^ "^ diffici% * commence fo t w, "7 Wl"°h " W£lS necos^7 to that of all those who 1, 7 °W' Qnd' co»^dering Sciences, t 7 W6''1^ S°^ht **th in the «nd a,,,^ E rc;nrsIonehavebcenabi°to d— o„s, i did „ot 7 7 7.7csI7in77vi- ^en (he rule of their invest^ T 77 7'C their obiects, 7 ^"""^S^^everdiflbrent f^A"A^A7-r-=" diem, and without- i„ nc knowledge of II,,, tha a 7 IS"",1;1""5 ^^""S thcm ^ - legitimately a p,i7l L p/S^ ^ ^ '" order to unders'am] ti,M 7 g furthor' that ^"-^vctec!:;7uU7i,:°w:^ oo-reu, I teougui thai, m on,Cr the better to con- ON METHOD. 21 eider them individually, I should view them as subsist ing between straight lines, than which I could find no • objects more simple, or capable of being more distinctly represented to my imagination and senses ; and on the other hand, that in order to retain them in the memory, or embrace an aggregate of many, I should express them by certain characters the briefest possible. In this way I believed that I could borrow all that was best both in Geometrical Analysis and in Algebra, and correct all the defects of the one by help of the oilier. And, in point of fact, the accurate observance of these few precepts gave me, I take the. liberty of say ing, such ease in unravelling all the questions embraced in these two sciences, that in the two or three months I devoted to their examination, not only did I reach solutions of questions I had formerly deemed exceed ingly difficult, but even as regards questions of the so lution of which I continued ignorant, I was enabled, as it appeared to me, to determine the means whereby, and the extent to which, a solution was possible; re sults attributable to the circumstance that I commenced with the simplest and most general truths, and that thus each truth discovered was a rule available in the discovery of subsequent ones. Nor in this perhaps shell I appear too vain, if it he considered that, as the truth on any particular point is one, whoever apprehends thc truth, knows all that on that point can be known. The child, for example, who has been instructed in the ele ments of Arithnr v ra' matter to reflect mf,;„, i , 7 business in each ^.,o,,.llc,,:rPr:tAi,:A;,;r;isAfti;:.'' ¦•oofed out from my ,„;,„, .„ (, U°r' J S™l"»"y J'i«-^-reptintoi7Ntetef777.",'if'hi-' Sceptic, who doubt only (1 It t ,' ' 7 Z^ "'C «<*'»«* beyond »nmO K^ "'"^ my design was singly fo /n„ * ,'„ 7 ° '— tra,,, ™* «ido the loose enrtb and sa ,7 77''''' ""d the rock or thc clay m 7 ""-'"' rcac!l successful eno7 7nr r ™ ^^ fo m<-'> J ™* «» fal.seho:°0r nem77neC^f tlde'1V0Ured t0 di8C™ -r^r: a,a77:-;= contribute towards the erection so n \ .rUinS '° of my opinions as I jud7l to 7 H 7i° 7'S S°Ci' variety of observations 7 [°Z Z ' "^ a perience of which J™v "f acM»»;«d an araolint 0f es. ofnioi-ecer:tehi^:i;:ff-i!-'-.^->.nm,it "^fin the McJ 7 dp^S- V°TT '^-g care in general tocondi^^nyb^r" -J*^ -7::tr r-f- tioiis belonging to other s ' , "' S;il'ie rpu-5- * e ° °"'U ^''cnccs, but which, by n;y 30 DISCOURSE having detached them from such principles of these Sciences as were of inadequate certainty, were rendered almost Mathematical : the truth of Ibis will bo mani fest from the numerous examples contained in this volume* And thus, without in appearance living other wise than those who, with no other occupation than that of spending their lives agreeably and innocently, study to sever pleasure, from vice, and who, that they may enjoy their leisure without ennui, have recourse to such pursuits as arc honourable, I was nevertheless prosecuting my design, and making greater progress in the knowledge of truth, than I might, perhaps, have made had I been engaged in the perusal of books mere ly, or in holding converse with men of letters. These nine years passed away, however, before Iliad come to any determinate judgment respecting the diffi culties which form matter ofedispute among the learned, or had commenced to seek the principles of any Philo sophy more certain than the vulgar. And the examples of many men of the highest genius, who had, in former times, engaged in this inquiry, but, as appeared to me, without success, fed me to imagine it lobe a work of so much difficulty, that I would not perhaps have ventured on it so soon had I not heard it currently rumoured that I had already completed the inquiry. I know not what were tho grounds of this opinion ; and, if my conversa tion contributed in any measure to its rise, this must have happened rather from my having confessed my ignorance with greater freedom than those are accustomed to do who have studied a little, and expounded, perhaps, the reasons that led me to doubt of many of those thhms 'tlie Discourse on Method was originally published along with the Dim, tries, the .Meteovics, and tlie Geometry. See the Introduc tion, p. xi,_7r. ON METHOD. 31 that by others are esteemed certain, than from nv havmg boasted of any system of Philosophy. B 7s lam of a disposition that makes mc un7,lhm t„ b esteemed d.fferent from what I really am, I , 77 ; wmthy of the reputation aec0Iy,cd to , \ now exactly eight years since- this desire oust a ed mo to remove from all thoscfAlacos where 7 froinanyofmyaequ^cer;: 7 it7,7fo ^7 .nyself.o this cmintlT* in which tee long' 7 i, tf hatetl, , atmes maintained seem to be of use only i, - .»'l'"g tho mhabitants to enjoy more SUCurelv the blessings of peace; and where, in the midst of a ^at crowd actively engaged in business, and more careful of their own affairs than curious about those of others I have been enabled to live without being deprived" of any of the conveniences to be had in the most populous cities, and yet as solitary and as retired as in thc77t ct the most remote deserts. * Holland; to which country he withdrew in 1629. Tr. DISCOURSE PART IV. I am m doubt as (o the propriety7\making my firs) meditations in the place above mentioned maiAev-f dis course ; for these are so metaphysical, and so uncoin men as not, perhaps, to be acceptable to every one.' And yet that it may be determined whether the foun- ofo ions that 1 have laid arc sufficiently secure, I find myself m a measure constrained to advert to them I had long before remarked that, in relation to practice, -t is sometimes necessary to adopt, as if above doubt opinions which wc discern to be highly uncertain, as 'has been already said ; but as I then desired to give my attention solely to the search after truth, I thought that a procedure exactly the opposite was called for and that I ought to reject as absolutely false all opb n.ons in regard to wliich I could suppose the least ground for doubt, in order to ascertain whether after that there remained aught in my belief that was wholly .indubitable. Accordingly, seeing that our senses some times deceive us, I was willing to suppose that there existed nothing really such as they presented to us • and because some men err in reasoning, and fall into paralogisms, even on the simplest matters of Geometry I, convinced that I was as open to error as any other' rejected as fahe all thc reasonings I had 'hitherto ON METHOD. 33 taken for demonstrations; and finallv, when I con Sidercd that the very same thoughts" (presentations) which we experience when awake may also be expe rienced when we are asleep, while there is at that time not one of them true, I supposed that all the ob jects (presentations) that had ever entered into my mind when awake, had in them no more truth than the illusions of my dreams. Ihit immediately upon this I observed that, whilst I thus wished, to think that all was false, it was absolutely necessary that I, who thus thought, should be somewhat; and as I ob served that this truth,/ think, hence, I am, was so certain ahd of such evidence, that no ground of doubt, how ever extravagant, could be alleged by the Sceptics capable of shaking it, I concluded that I might, with out scruple, accept it as the first principle 'of the Philosophy of which I was in search. In the next place, I attentively examined what. I was, and as I observed that I could suppose that I had no body, and that there was no world nor any place m which I might be; but. that I could not therefore suppose that I was not; and that, on the contrary, from the very circumstance that I thought to doubt of the truth of other things, it most clcarlv and cerfiinte followed that I was; while, on the other hand, if I had only ceased to think, although all the other ob jects which I had ever imagined had been in reality existent, I would have had no reason to believe teat I existed; I thence concluded that I was a substance whose whole essence or nature consists only in think ing, and which, that it may exist, has need of no place, nor is dependent on any material thing; so thai " I," that is to say, the mind by which I am what I am, is wholly distinct from the body, and is even more :i t DISCOURSE easily known than the latter, and is sueh, that although be latter were not, it would still continue to be all liiat it is. _ After this I inquired in general into what is essen tial to tho truth and certainty of a proposition; for since I had discovered one which I knew to be true I thought that 1 must likewise be able to discover the ground of this certitude. And as I observed that in the words 1 thinl; hence 1 am, there is nothing at ail which gives mo assurance of their truth beyond this, liat I see very clearly that in order to think it is icccssary to exist, I concluded that I might take, as i general rule, the principle, that all the things which ve very clearly and distinctly conceive are true, only foserving, however, that there is some" difficulty in Mghtly determining the objects which we distinctly conceive. In the next place, from reflecting on thc circum stance that I doubted, and that consequently my beino- vas not wholly perfect, (for I clearly saw that it was i greater, perfection to know than to doubt,) I was led •o inquire whence I had learned to think of something nore perfect than myself; and I clearly recognised"' hat I must hold this notion from some Nature which n reality was more perfect.. As for the thoughts tef many other objects external to me, as of the sky, thc :arth, light, heat, and a thousand more, I was less at loss to know whence these came; for since I re- narked in them nothing which seemed to render them uperior to myself, I could believe that, if these were rue, they were dependencies on my own nature, in so re as it possessed a certain perfection, and, if they rerc fake, that I held them from nothing, that is to ay, that they were in me because of a certain imper- 0N METHOD. 0 ,-, flection of my nature. But this could not be the case with the idea of a Nature more perfect than myself; for to receive it from nothing was a thing manifestly impossible ; and, because it is not less repugnant that the more perfect should be an effect of, and dependence on the less perfect, than that something should proceed from nothing, it was equally impossible that I could hold it from myself: accordingly, it but remained that h had been placed in mc by a Nature which was in reality more perfect than mine, and which even pos sessed within itself all the perfections of which I could form any idea ; that is to say, in a single word, which was God. And to this I added that, since I knew some perfections which I did not possess, I was not the only being in existence, (I will here, with your permission, freely use the terms of the schools) ; but, on tho contrary, that there was of necessity some other more perfect Being upon whom I was dependent, and from whom I had received all that I possessed ,' for if I had existed alone, and independently of every other being, so as to have had from myself all the per fection, however little, which I actually uossessed, I should have been able, for the same reason, to have had from myself the whole remainder of perfection, of the want of which I was conscious, and thus could of myself have become infinite, eternal, immutable, omni scient, all-powerful, and, in fine, have possessed all the perfections which I could recognise in God. For in order to know the nature of God, (whose existence has been established by the preceding reasonings,) as far as my own nature permitted, I had only to con- . sideiljn reference to all the properties or which T teund in my 'mind some idea,! whether their possession was a mark of_ perfection ; and I was assured that no one 3C DISCOURSE which inclieated any imperfection was in him, and that none of the rest was awanting. Thus I perceived that doubt, inconstancy, sadness, and such like, could not be found in God, since I myself would have been Happy to be free from them. Besides, I had ideas of many sensfolo and corporeal things ; for altlioimh I might suppose, that I was dreaming, and that all which saw or imagined was false, I could not, nevertheless, «feny that the ideas were in reality in my thoughts Iml, because I had already very clearly recognised in -: myscll that thc intelligent nature is distinct from the j corporeal, and as 1 observed that all composition is an j evidence of dependency, and that a state of dependency I is manifestly a stale of imperfection, I therefore deter mined that it could not be a perfection in God to bo compounded of these two natures, and that consequently he was not so compounded; but that if there were any bodies m the world, or even any intelligences, or other natures that were not wholly perfect, their existence depended on his power in such a way that they could not subsist without him for a single moment. I was disposed straightway to search for other truths- ami when I had represented to myself the object of the geometers, which I conceived to be a continuous body, or a space indefinitely extended in length, breadth, and height or depth, divisible into divers parts which ad mit of different figures and sizes, and of being moved or trails,,,,^,! in alt manner of ways, (for all "this the geometers suppose to be in the object they contem plate,) I went over some of their simplest demonstra tions. And, in tho first place, I observed, that the great certitude which by common consent is accorded to these demonstrate,,..*-, is founded solely upon this, that they ere clearly conceived in accordance with the rules 1 ON .METHOD. 37 bave already laid down. In the next place, I perceived Umt here was nothing at all h, these demonstrations Inch could assure me of the existenee-of their object • bus, for example, supposing a triangle to be given I distinctly perceived that its three angles were neces sarily equal to two right angles, but I did not on that account perceive anything which could assure me that any triangle existed.- while, on the contrary, recurring to the examination ol the idea or a Perfect telm, f ound that the existence of the Being was comprised h, . >e idea in the .same way that the equality of its ! "-ce angles to two right angles is comprised in the . -dea of a triangle, or as in the idea of a sphere, the equ.distanee of all points on it, surface from the centre or even still more clearly; ai,d that consequently it is at least as certain that God, who is this Perfect Bcm„ is, or exists, as any demonstration of Geometry can be' But the reason which leads many to persuade them selves that there is a difficulty in knowing this Irel and even also in knowing what their mind really U is that they never raise their thoughts above sensible objects, and are so accustomed to consider nothin, except by way of imagination, which is a mode of thinking termed to material objects, that all that is not imaginable seems to them not intelligible. Thc truth of tins is sufficiently manifest from the single circum stance, that the philosophers of the Schools accept as a maxim that there is nothing i„ the UneWMiZZ winch was not previously in the Senses, in which how'! ever it «, certain that the ideas of God and ot (he soul Z "SVCI\b CCn; and U aW™ "> ™ «hat thev who -Ire use of their imagination to comprehend Ate! f-do exactly the same thing as if, j,/ order to hcai- sounds or smell odours, they strove to avail thems 3,9 DISCOURSE of their eyes ; unless indeed that there is this difference, that the sense of sight does not afford us an inferior assurance to those of smell or hearing; in place of which, neither our imagination nor our senses can give us assurance of anything unless our Understanding in tervene. _ Finally, if there bo still persons who are not suffi ciently persuaded of the existence of God and of the soul, by the reasons I have adduced, I am desirous that they should know that all tho other propositions, of the truth of which they deem themselves perhaps more assured, as that we have a body, and that there exist stars and an earth, and such like, are less certain; for, although we have a moral assurance of these thiims, which is so strong that there is an appearance AArelc- travagance in doubting of their existence, yet at the _same time no one, unless his intellect is impaired, can deny, when the question relates to a metaphysical cer titude, that there is sufficient reason to exclude entire assurance, in the observation that when asleep we can- in the same way imagine ourselves possessed of another- body and that we see other stars and another earth, when there is nothing of the kind. For how do we know that thc thoughts which occur in dreaming~are false rather than those other which we experience when awake, since the former aro often not less vivid and distinct than the latter? And though men of the highest genius study this question as long as they please, I do not believe that they will be able lo give any reason wliich can be sufficient to remove this doubt, unless they presuppose the existence of God. For, in the first place, even the principle wliich I havo already taken as a. rule, viz., that all tho things which we clearly and distinctly conceive are true, is certain ON METHOD. 30 only because God is or exists, and because he is a Per fect Being, and because all that wc possess is derived from him : whence it follows that our ideas or notions, which to the extent of their clearness and distinctness are real, and proceed from God, must to that extent be true. Accordingly, whereas we not unfrequently have ideas or notions in which some falsity is contained, this can only be thc case with such as are to some extent confused and obscure, and in this proceed from nothing (participate of negation,) that is, exist in us thus con fused because we are not wholly perfect. And it is evident that it is not less repugnant that falsity or im perfection, in so for as it is imperfection, should pro ceed from God, than that truth or perfection should proceed from nothing. But if we did not know that all which wo possess of real and true proceeds from a Pcifect and Infinite Being, hewever clear and distinct our ideas might be, we should have no ground on that account for the assurance that they possessed the per fection of being true. But after the knowledge of God and of the soul has rendered us certain of this rule, wo can easily under stand that the truth of the. thoughts we experience when awake, ought not in the slightest degree to be called in question on account of the illusions of our dreams. For if it happened that an individual, even when asleep, had some very distinct idea, as, for example, if a geometer should discover some new de monstration, the circumstance of his being asleep would not militate against its truth ; and as for the most or dinary error of our dreams, which consists i„ their representing to us various objects in the same 1Viy as our external senses, this is not prejudicial, since it leads us very properly to suspect the truth of the hfoa* JO DISCOURSE of sense; for wc are not unfrcquently deceived in the same manner when awake; as when persons in the jaundice sec all objects yellow, or when the stars or bodies at a great distance appear to us much smaller than they are. For, in fine, whether awake or asleep, we ought never lo allow ourselves to be persuaded of the truth of anything unless on the evidence of our Reason. And it must bo noted that. I say of our Jieason, and not of our imagination or of our senses: thus, for example, although wo very clearly see the sun, wo ought not therefore to determine that it is only of the size which our sense of sight presents; and wc may very distinctly imagine the head of a lion joined to the body of a goal, without being therefore shut up to the conclusion that a chimera exists; for it is not a dictate of Reason that what wc thus see or imagine is in reality existent; but it plainly tells us that all our ideas or notions contain in them some truth; for otherwise it could not be that God, who is wholly perfect and vera cious, should have placed them in us. And because our reasonings arc never so clear or so complete during sleep as when we arc awake, although sometimes the acts of our imagination are then as lively and distinct, if not more so than in our waking moments, Reason further dictates that, since all our thoughts cannot be true because of our partial imperfection, those pos sessing truth must infollibly be found in the experience of our waking moments rather than in that of our dreams. ON JIKTIIOD. 41 TAUT V. I would here willingly have proceeded to exhibii the whole chain oi truths which I deduced from these primary; but as with a view to this it wou'd have been necessary now to treat of many questions in dispute among the learned, with whom I do not -,-Uh to be embroiled, I believe that it will be better for lw to refrain from this exposition, and onlv mention in general what these truths are, that the more judicious 'naybe able to determine whether a more snecial ac count of them would conduce to the public advantage I have ever remained firm in my original resolution' lo suppose no other principle than that of which I have recently availed myself in demonsiruting ,]io i-teenco of God and of the soul, and to accept as true noteim. that did not appear to mo more clear and certain than thA de monstrations of the geometers had formerly appeared ¦ and yet I venture to slate that not only have I found meansfosatisfyinyselfinashorttimeoiiAlllhopri,,,,-.,.; difficulties which are usually treated of in Philosophy but I have also observed certain laws establish,.,! h! nature by God in such a manner, and of u hid, he h,s impressed on our minds su«-Ji nolious, thai alter w, have reflected sufficiently upon these, wc cannot doub, that they are accurately observed in all thai exists „- 4-2 DISCOURSE takes place in the world : and farther, by considering the concatenation of these laws, it appears to mc thai f have discovered many truths more useful and more important than all I had before learned, or even had expected to learn. But because I have essayed to expound the chief oi these discoveries in a Treatise, which certain considera tions prevent me from publishing, I cannot, nmko the results known more conveniently than by here giving a summary of the contents of this Treatise. It was my design to comprise- in it all that, before I set myself to write it, I (bought 1 knew of the nature of material objects. But like the painters who, finding themselves unable to represent equally well on a plain surface all the different faces of a solid body, select one of the chief, on which alone they make the light fall, and throwing the rest into the shade, allow them to appear only in so for as they can be seen while looking at thc principal one ; so, fearing lest I should not be able to comprise in my discourse all that was in my mind, I resolved to expound singly, though at considerable length, my opinions regarding light ; then to take the opportunity of adding somelliing on the sun and the fixed stars, since light almost wholly proceeds from them; on the heavens since they transmit it; on the planets, comets, and earth, since they reflect it ; and particularly on all the bodies that are upon the earth, since they are cither coloured, or transparent, or lumi nous; and finally on man, since lie is the spectator ot these objecls. Further, to enable me to cast this variety ol subjects somewhat into the shade, and to express my judgment regarding them with greater freedom, without bring necessitated to adopt or refute the opinions of thc learned, I resolved to leave all the ON METHOD. 43 people here to their disputes, and to speak only of what would happen in a new world, if God were now to create somewhere in thc imaginary spaces matter suffi cient to compose one, and were to agitate variously and confusedly the different parts of this matter, so" that there resulted a chaos as disordered as the poets ever feigned, and after that did nothing more than lend his ordinary concurrence to nature, and allow 1,,-r to act m accordance with the laws which he had establish,.,! On Ibis supposition, I, j„ |h0 first ph,Ce, described (his matter, and essayed lo represent it j„ s„r|, a 111{1I1I1(T that lo my mind there can he nothing clearer and more intelligible, except what has been recently said read ing God and the soul; for I even expressly supposed that it possessed none of those forms or qualities which are so debated in the Schools, nor in -eneml anvthiim the knowledge of which is not so natural to our minds that no one can so much as imagine himself ignorant of it. Besides, I have pointed out what arc the laws of nature ; and, with no other principle upon which to found my reasonings except the infinite perfection of God, I endeavoured to demonstrate all those about which there could be any room for doubt, and to prove that they are such, that even if God had created more worlds, there could have been none in which these laws were not observed. Thereafter, I showed how the greatest part of the matter of this chaos must, in ac cordance with these laws, dispose and arraime itself in such a way as to present the appearance of heavens; how in the meantime some of its parts must compose an earth and some planets and comets, and others r! sun and fixed stars. And, making ;l dicv.-teor. at ilte stage on tho subject of light, 1 expounded at consi derable length what thc nature of that lfeht nuisi be 1-1 DISCOURSE which is found in the sun and the stars, and how thence in an i„stant of ,me ., ^^ ^ .^ t ~ of the heavens, and how from the planets and comets it is reflected towards thc earth. To this I likewise added much respecting the substance, the situation, the motions, and all the different qualifies of these heavens ami stars ; so that I thought 1 had said enough respect mg ll.cn to show that there is nothing observable in the ucavens or stars of our system thai must not, oral least may not appear precisely alike in those of the .ystem winch I described. I came next to speak of Um earth n, particular, and to show how, even though J had expressly supposed that God had given nowei-dit to the matter of which it is composed, this should not prevent all its parts from tending exactly to its centre; how with water and air on its surface, the disposition of the heavens and heavenly bodies, more especially of the moon, must cause a flow and ebb, like in all its circumstances to that observed in our seas, as also a certain current both of water and air from cast to west, such as is likewise observed between the tropics; how Urn mountains, seas, fountains, and rivers might natu rally be formed in it, and the metals produced in the mines, and the plants grow in the fields; and in gene ral, how all the bodies which are commonly denomi nated mixed or composite might be generated: and, among other things in the discoveries alluded to, mas-' much as besides the stars, I knew nothing except fire which produces light, I spared ho pains to set forth all that pertains to its nature,— the manner of its produc tion and support, and to explain how heat is sometimes found without light, and light without heat; to show how it can induce various colours upon different bodies and other divciy-e qualities; how it reduces some to a ON METHOD. -to liquid state and hardens others; how it can consume almost a bodies, or convert them into ashes and smoke : and finally, how frora these ^^ ])y ^ ^ .^^ sity of its action, it forms glass: for as this transmuta tion of ashes into glass appeared to mc as wonderful -., any other in nature, I took a special pleasure in de- scribing it. I was not, however, disposed, from these circum stances, to conclude that this world had been creed in lho manner I described ; for it is much more lilely that God made it at thc first such as it was to be. J',,1. this is certain, and an opinion commonly received among theologians, that the action by which he now ? sustains it is the same with that by wliich he originally created it; so that even although he had from tee be ginning given it no other form than that of chaos, pro vided only he had established certain laws of nature, and had lent it his concurrence to enable it to act a-! it is wont to do, it may be believed, without discre dit to the miracle of creation, that, in this wav alone things purely material might, in course of time, have become such as we observe them at nrc.rent; and their nature ,s much more easily conceived when tlicv are beheld coming in this manner gradually into existence . than when they aro only considered as produced at once m a finished and perfect state. From the description of inanimate bodies and plants I passed to animals, and particularly to man Bu' since I had not as yet sufficient knowledge to enable me to treat of these in the same manner aAof the rest that is to say, by deducing effects from their cmire,' and by showing from what elements and in what m-m- ncr Nature must produce them. I remained satisfied nith thc supposition that God formed the body of man p ¦IG DISCOURSE of the organs, of thosa.uc ^^ conf°™ation bribed, and at firet nC7' ' °'' ^ ''^ * had dc" »y other P in inle if ln;t,n° S*"0"1 S°^ "or »"«i, i .i,.„,A A , , "'"™;')-^.*..u»,i "¦» l","l of fancio,,, A ,',,., i',"''"'" ' °'"""i""1 - , a, dependent on thought alone, belong to u a oo\ci mere as soon as I sunnoeorl rre i . i a Rational Sou,, and to ZZZno^Zto^ bT^ =H.ar.icular maiiner which I described °djln But in order to show how I there handled this mat- tm, I mean here to give the explication of the mot ion ^ the heart and arteries, which, as the first „ , ost general motion observed in animals, will aflb d the Z7Z :zdyzzzin'ms what shouw b° ^s UN MF.T1IOD. .<-, before they commence the perusal of these observation, o teethe trouble of getting dissected in their ZZZ he heart of some large animal possessed of lu!U bis is throughout sufficiently like the human,) and to W shewn to them its two ventricles or cavili £ the fiist place, that in the right side, with which cor- Z '7 ^ »™ ",0 "^ v«-, (he hollow y , p c^a,) which is the principal receptacle of ,1, loo a the trunk of the tree, as it were, of whiel al the other veins m tho body arc branches ; and tee arteria vein, (VCna artcriosa.) inappropriate),, so de„0! n natcd since ,t is in truth only an arte, v, wide taking itsnse m the heart, is divided, after passim on from it, into many branches which presently disperse themselves all over the lungs ; in the second rplacetl cav,ty m the left side, with which correspond ame manner two canals in Ata equal to orAargcr th preceding, v,,., the venous artery, (artcria^,) likewise inappropriately thus designated, because it is simply a vein which comes from the lungs, where it is ivicledinto many branches, interlaced "virb tho'c of he artcrm yem, and those of thc -tube called the -nlpipe, through which the air we breathe enters and the great artery which, issuing from the beret' sends ,ts ranches all over the body. I „hould ^ also that such persons were carefully shewn the eleven foe cs winch, like so many small valve, open an shut the four orifices that are in these two cavities viz., three at the entrance of the hollow vein, where they are disposed in sueh a maimer as by no means o preven the blood which it contains from ffowim' in *e right ventricle of the heart, and yet exactly 0 Fcvmi its fiowing out; three at the entrance to ,,e '"'.erial vein, which, arranged in a manner ex, cte IS DISCOURSE opposite of the former, readily permit the blood con- tamed m this cavity to pass into the lungs, but hinder (hat contained in thr lungs from returning to • thia cavity; and, in like manner, two others at the mouth of the venous artery, which allow thc blood from the lungs to flow into the left cavity of the heart, but pre clude its return ; and three at the mouth of the great rnlcry, which sutler Ihe blood to flow from thc heart, but prevent its reflux. Nor do we need to seek any other reason for Ihe number of these pellicles beyond tins that the orifice of ihe venous artery being of an oval shape fro,,, the nature of its situation, can be ade quately closed with two, whereas fhe others being round are. more conveniently closed with three. Be° sides, I wish such persons to observe that the grand artery and the arterial vein are of much harder and firmer texture than the venous artery and the hollow vein ; and that the two last expand before entering thc heart, and there form, as it were, two pouches deno minated the auricles of the heart, which arc composed of a substance, similar to that of tlie heart itself; and that there is always more warmth in the heart, than in any other part of the body ; and, finally, that this heat is capable of causing any drop of blood that passes into the cavities rapidly to expand and dilate, just as all liquors do when allowed to fall drop by drop into a highly heated vessel. For, after these things, it is not necessary for me lo say anything more with a view to explain thc motion of thc hear!, except (hat when its cavities are not full of blood, into these thc blood of necessity flows,— from the hollow vein into the right, and from the venous artery info the left; because these two vessels are always full of blood, and their orifices, wliich are turned towards ON METHOD. -10 the heart, cannot then be closed. But as soon as two drops of blood have thus passed, one into each of the cavities, these drops which cannot but be very force, because thc orifices through which they pass are wide, and the vessels from which they come full of blood, arc immediately rarefied, and dilated by the heat they meet with. In this way they cause the whole, heart to expand, and at thc same time press home and shut (he five small valves that are at (he entrances of the two vessels from which they flow, and thus prevent any more blood from coming down into the heart, aud be coming more and more rarefied, they push open the six small valves that are in the orifices of thc other two vessels, through wliich they pass out, causing in this way all the branches of the arterial vein and of the grand artery to expand almost simultaneously with the heart — which immediately thereafter begins to contract, as do also the arteries, because tlie blood that has entered them has cooled, and thc six small valves close, and the five of the hollow vein and of the venous artery open anew and allow a passage to other two drops of blood, which cause the heart and the arteries again to expand as before. And, because the blood which thus enters into the heart passes throimh these two pouches called auricles, it thence happens thai their motion is the contrary of that of the heart, and that when it expands they contract. But. le.-l those who are ignorant of thc force of mathematical demonslralions. and who arc not accustomed to distinguish (rue reasons from mere verisimilitudes, should venture, without ex amination, to deny what has been said, I wish if to be considered that the motion which I have now explained follows as necessarily from lho very arrange:.!, nt of the parts, which may be absolved in the heart by tho 50 DISCOURSE eye alone, and from the heat which may be felt with >e fingers and from the nature of the blood as learecd om experience, as does the motion of a clock from ¦ Z'Z ? SItUatbn' and shaPe of its counter- weights and wheels. But if it he asked how it happens that the blood in he veins, tlowing in this way continually into the -art, is not exhausted, and why the arteries do not become too full, since all the blood which passes through thc heart flows into them, I need only men- boa m rep]y ^ has been written by a physician*' oi bug laud, who has the honour of having broken tho ice on this subject, and of having been the first to teach hat there are many small passages at the extremities of he arteries, through which the blood received by them from the heart passes into the small branches of the veins, whence it again returns to the heart ; so that its course amounts precisely to a perpetual circulation. Of this wc have abundant proof in the ordinary experi ence of surgeons, who, by binding the arm with a tie of moderate straitness above the part where they open the vein, cause tho blood to flow more copiously than it would have done without any ligature ; whereas quite tlie contrary would happen were they to bind it below; that is, between the hand and the openin- 0r iverc to make tho ligature above the opening very tight. For it is manifest that the tie, moderately straitened, while adequate to hinder the blood already in the arm from returning towards the heart by the veins, cannot on that account prevent new blood from coming forward through the arteries, because these are situated below the veins, and their coverings, from then- greater consistency, arc more difficult to com- ' Harvej— IaiL Tr, OS METHOD. TA press ; and also that the blood which comes from the heart tends to pass through them to the band with greater force than it does to return from the band to the heart through the veins. And since the latter current escapes from the arm by the opening made in one of the veins, there must of necessity be certain passages below thc ligature, (hat is, towards the cx- tremiliesof the arm Ihrough which it can come thither from thc arteries. This physician likewise abundantly establishes what he has advanced respecting the motion ol thc blood, from the existence of certain pellicles,' so disposed in various places along (he course of ihe veins, in the manner of small valves, as not to permit the blood to pass from the middle of the body towards the extremities, but only to return from the extremities to the heart ; and farther, from experience which shows that all the blood which is in the body may Hove out of it in a very short time through a single artery that has been cut, oven although this had been closely tied in the immediate neighbourhood of the heart, and cut between the heart and the ligature, so as to prevent the supposition that the blood flowing out of it could come from any other quarter than the heart. But there are many other circumstances wliich evince that what I have alleged is the true cause of the motion of the blood: thus, in thc first pi1Ce, thc difference that is observed between the blood which flows from the veins, and that from the arteries, can only arise from this, that being rarefied, and, as it were, dis tilled by passing through the heart, it is thinner! and more vivid, and warmer immediately after leaviim tho heart, in other words, when in the arteries, than it was a short, time before passing into cither, in other words, when it was in the veins; and if attention be 62 DISCOURSE given, it will be found that this difference is very marked only in the neighbourhood of the heart ; and is not so evident in parts more remote from it. In the next place, thc consistency of the coats of which the arterial vein and the great artery are composed, suffi ciently shows that the blood is impelled against them with more force than against the veins. And why should tho left cavity of the heart, and the great artery be wider and larger than the right cavity and the arterial vein, were it not that the blood of thc venous artery, having only been in the lungs after it has passed through Ihe heart, is thinner, and rarefies more readily, and in a higher degree, than the blood which proceeds immediately from the hollow vein? And what can physicians conjecture from feeling the pulse unless they know that according as the blood changes its nature it can be rarefied by the warmth of the°heart, in a higher or lower degree, and more or less quickly than before ? And if it be inquired how this heat is communicated to the other members, must it not be admitted that this is effected by means of the blood, which, passing through the heart, is there heated anew, and thence diffused over all the body! Whence it happens, that if the blood be withdrawn from any part, the heat is likewise withdrawn by the same means; and although the heart were as hot as glowing iron, it would not be capable of warming the feet and hands as at present, unless it continually sent thither new blood. Wc likewise perceive from this, that the true use of respiration is to bring sufficient fresh air into the lungs, to cause the blood which flows into them from the right ventricle of the heart, where it has been rarefied and, as it were, changed into vapours, to become thick, and to convert it anew into blood, ON METHOD. before it flows into the left cavity, without which pro cess it would be unfit for the nourishment of the fire that is there. This receives confirmation from the cir cumstance, that it is observed of animals destitute of lungs that they have also but one cavity in the heart, and that in children who cannot use them while in the womb, there is a bole through which thc blood flows from the hollow vein into the loft cavity of the heart, and a tube through which it passes from thc arterial vein into the grand artery without passing through tlie lung. In the next place, how could diges tion be carried oil in tlie stomach unless the. hi art communicated heat to it through the arteries, and along with this certain of the more iluid parts of thc blood, which as.sist in the dissolution of the food that has been taken in ? Is not also the operation which converts the juice of food into blood easily compre hended, when it is considered that it is distilled by piloting and repassing through the heart perhaps more than one or two hundred times in a day? And what more need be adduced to explain nutrition, and the production of the different humours of the body, be yond saying, that the force with which tlie blood, in being rarefied, passes from thc heart towards the ex tremities of tlie arteries, causes certain of its parts to remain in the member/ "at which they arrive, and there occupy the place of some others expelled by them ; and that according to the situation, shape, or smaliness of the pores with wliich they meet, some rather than others flow into certain parts, in the same wav that some sieves are observed to act, which, by being vari ously perforated, serve to separate different species of grain ? And, in the last place, what above all is here worthy of observation, is the generation of tlie /u DISCOURSE ^rcend4te;ra;;:;irrsrrm - brain thence penetrates through the nerved no he muscles, and gives motion to atf the memoere o h to account for other parts of the blood whiel,' ^,g,,; i.od and penetrating, are the fittest toe m- oe these spirits, proceeding towards the brain, it is necessary to suppose any other cause, than simply »•« >« arteries winch carry them thither proceed f-ntlrelreiu-tretbc mom direct lines, and (, ,( a c- -ng to the rules of Mechanics, which arc the a e U those of fsatere when many objects tend at once for 1 Z- rHt '° ^ iS n0t Sufficie»t "om flo, f fS r^ WUh tLe Parts °f th0 U-d which fore fort h from the left cavity of the heart and tend towards the brain,) the weaker and less abated part must necessarily be driven aside from thatpoim by tUe stronger which alone in this way reach it 1 had expounded all these matters with sufficient --.(miess m thc Treatise which I formerly ,hou! H pa hshmg. And after these, I had shewn what i, e he fabric of the nerves and muscles of the huZn body to give the animal spirits contained in it the power -i.tu they nave been struck off still move and bito th* earth, although no longer animated ; what ehan! rest take place in the brain to produce waking, sleep dreams how light, sounds, odours, taste! hea ! (^th different ideas by means of the senses ; how -frei- thirst, and the other internal affections cm uew.scmprcss upon it divers ideas; what must be understood by fhe common sense (sensus communis) i„ ON METHOD, fi5 which tliese ideas are received, by the memory which retains them, by the fantasy which can chance them in various ways, and out of them compose new ideas, and which, by the same means, distributing the animal spirits through the muscles, can cause thorencmbers of such a body to move in as many different ways, and in a manner as suited, whether to tlie objects that are presented to its senses or to its internal affections, as can take place in our own case apart from the c'lfot- ance of the will. JS'or will this appear at ail streuicc to those who are acquainted with the variety of m.Ae- mcnls pci-ferincd by the different ai.-foinalaAor movintr machines rubricated by human industry, and thai with help ol but few pieces compared with thc great mul titude or bones, muscles, nerves, arteries, veins, and other parts that are found in the body of each animal. Such persons will look upon this body as a machine made by the hands of God, which is iueomparabiy bctter arranged, and adequate to movements more admirable than is any machine of human invention. And here I specially stayed to show that, were there such machines exactly resembling in organs and out ward form an ape or any other irrational animal, wc could have no means of knowing that they were in any respect of a different nature from these animals; but if there were machines bearing the image of our bodies and capable of imitating our actions "as for as it is morally possible, there would still remain two most certain tests whereby to know that they were not there fore really men, 01 these the first is that they could never use wordarer. other signs arranged in "such a manner as is .competent to us in order to declare our thoughts to others: for wc may easily conceive a ma chine to be so constructed that it emits vocables, and a 6 DISCOURSE C,C" . ,a* ,fc Pmits "»« correspondent to the action upon it of external objects which cause a change in its organs; for example, if touched in a parlicular°place it may demand what, wc wish to say to it; if in another it may cry out that it is hurt, and such like; but not (hat U should arrange them variously so as appositely to reply to what is said in its presence, as men of the fewest grade 0f intellect can do. (The second testis, that although ,s,lrl, machines might execute many things with equal ni- perhaps greater perfection than any of U-, Ihcy would, without doubt, foil in certain others | horn which it could be discovered that they did not act I from knowledge, but solely from thc disposition oi their organs: for while Reason is an universal instrument that is alike available on every occasion, these organs, on the contrary, need a particular arrangement for each particular action ; whence it must be morally impos sible that there, should exist in any machine a diversity of organs sufficient to enable it to act in all the occur rences of life, in the way in which our reason enables \ us to act. ) Again, by means of these two tests wc may V likewise know thc difference between men and brutes. For it is highly deserving of remark, that there are no men so dull and stupid, not even idiots, as to be in capable of joining together different words, and thereby constructing a declaration by which to make their thoughts understood ; and that on thc other hand, there is no other animal, however perfect or happily circum stanced wliich can do the like. Nor does this' inability arise from want of organs: for we observe that mag pies and parrots can utter words like ourselves, and arc yet unable to speak as we do, that is, so as to show- that they understand what they say ; in place of wliich men born deaf and dumb, and thus not less, but rather ON .METHOD. 57 more than the brutes, destitute of the organs which others use in speaking, are in the habit of spontaneously inventing certain signs by which they discover their thoughts to thosawbo, being usually in their eoiireany, have leisure to learn their language. And this prove! not only that the brutes have less Iteason than man, but that they have none at all : lor we see that very little is required to enable a person lo speak ; ami since a certain inequality of capacity is observable among animals d the same species, as well as among uu-n, and since some are more capable of being in.-'lructed than others, it is incredible that the must°perfo.-|. ape or parrot of its species, should not in this be equal to the most stupid infant of its kind, or at least to one that was crack-brained, unless the soul of brutes were of a nature wholly different from ours. And we ought not to confound speech with the natural movementAwhich indicate the passions, and can bo imitated by machines as well as manifested by animals; nor mire it be thought with certain of the ancients, that the brutes speak, although we do not understand their himmage. For if such were the case, since they are endowed wnh many organs analogous to ours, they could as easilv communicatc their thoughts to us as' to their fellows. It is also very worthy of remark, that, though there are many animals which manifest more indusTry than we in certain of their actions, thc same animals are yet observed to show none at all in many others : so that the circumstance that they do better than we does not prove that they are endowed with mind, for it would thence follow that they possessed greater Reason than any of us, and could surpass us in all things; on the contrary, it rather proves that they are destitute of Reason, and that it is Nature which acts in them accord- DISCOURSE rA^r:r™»™-—SA= AAA AA,'A Arbe" u" Eoa»"*bfc s»"'. ""j *v-.f.A™:AtLA=L:A;:s1^ "Ml, ,I,c „ ,„.„, ,„ „ sll! „„|m J "¦ «™.,i...,..s .,,,1 ii,,,. ;, ,, „,„,«„,, f' it ,; ™ ;,A:,,,k ':"" """'J' ">«« '-i..;, I. .*,¦ ,« -zrr^r'if "'™e'""«— ;:::-«re.fo,AAAASt.AAAA::-a iA^=-:-:— z no. ha 'eadj r'ffiCient!y refuted. *«™ » "rev from tl I' TCrfUl iD 1C[l,,i"g feCbl° "*>*• a tiaj hom the stra.ght path of virtue than the suppo- ;- that tec soul of the brutes is of the same natere ¦ ^ our own ; and consequently that after this life we 1-ve nothing to hope for or fear, more than flies ad «n*; ». Place of which, when we know how for t y vx much better comprehend the reasons which c«t« Wish that the soul is of a nature wholly indepen omofthe body, and that consequently it is'not lib! o ie wlth tfo latter; and, finally, because no other causes are observed capable of destroying it we are naturally led thence to judge that it is immortal ON METHOD. 50 PART VI, Thiiek years have now elapsed since I finished the treatise containing all these matters; and I was l- ^nimg to revise i( with the view to put i, into (he fou sofa printer, when Ilearned that persons to whom Igrea y defer, and whose authoritv over my actions >3 .mdly less influential than h my own Ite.Aon ovc! "J thoughts had condemned a certain doctrine in I hjsics, published a short time previously by ,nore,,. - -vidual,* to which I will not say that Adhere! h>«t only that, previously to their censure, I had',-, served in it nothing which I could imagine to be nre- ju mial e,f or to religion or to the state, and nothin, therefore winch would have prevented me from ^i^ ' expression to it in writing, if Reason had pervaded me of its truth ; and this led me to fear lest, amoire own doctrines likewise some one might be foui'fo re which 1 had departed from the truth, notwitlrs, ( fr,'! he great care I have always taken not to accord biff o new opinions of which I had not the most ccr ' emons.ral,ons,andnotto give expression to a,,eluU^ *f tend to thc hurt of any one. This has \Z ameieii to make me a,te,-i,,ypurpus,: of ,,,,,:, 'hem; for although the reasons by which II, * Galileo 7-,.. ao Occ.-i CO DISCODKSE >""! hooks, etia ,le A ' T "^ h°Stile to "*- biking the task And th? "0t under- 'hc other, are s a-1 , u ? T"1. on °"e **> -id Xa: lzvZ «-"=«: g1,1 t ' ',""'"1"'S "le'"' ««l" U'O" wlnm God k., cons „„,„,, tl„ ,„„„„ „, »» » t„,v-l,o„, ,,0 ,,„ eivc„ mffidcn[ I" ;:i;SAAAA,A:t;i=S-S ££f«£ ,A-AAA£ could not keep them concealed without shmin, I „ ^y agnnst the law by which wc are bound te- me as far as m us lies, the general good of mankind. to. b teem I perceived it to be possible fo arrive, at Knowledge ifrhlv useful i„ ire i ¦ ' c m^mj icetut m hie- and m room of the ON METHOD Gl 63 Speculative Philosophy usually taught in the School- to diseovpr n -p,.„„*- 11 ° 'jcnoots, uiouuver a Practical, by m».,n. nc ,,., • , ' S/'^-andae^JtenaiterL^:;- the heavens, and all thc other bodies th ,t s ' as distinctly as we know he vm 0 c™ of ™' -f-anjj we might also apply , nZZ the t ™ to all the uses to which they arc adapted, ¦„ d te, -ncr ourselves the lords and p„ss„ L,, o , „ An-nfos ,s a result to be desired, not oidvi^i'.'; .c, nvent.onoran infinity otforts, by which nc,,- lc enabled to enjoy wilhout any trouble the te, J - earth, and all i, comforts, L aZZZ ZZ oi e preservation of health, which is witho,, , of all he blessings of this life, thc first and fiuteemem 1 one for the moid is so intimately den, ndent m -dition and relation of the org,, of he 7," ^ any means can ever be found to render me v- ei- ami more ingenious than hitherto, I belie ^/if Medicine they must be sought for. ~ ZZtZZZZ =ceo Medicine, as it now exists, contfo!.: whose utthty is very remarkable : but without any Ah »» deprecate .t, I am confident that there is ! !, e en among those whose profession i, is who , *!, - T, admit that all at present known in it, is hi V- T, ¦« comparison of what remains to be ZZl te ? ^hat we could free ourselves from -, f , '' T r^y^^^^fnnn^^ZZZZZZZ horn the debilitv of ao, re ,,,„ ,, , 1 ,, .' ' C,L" knowledge of fl;ireau^:sLdCofh;!;;,raU^;l,'1'',^ vided for us by Nature. lb,t s , I ZZZZ Z' my whole life in the search after so Z^ZZZZ^ and since I had fallen in witli a path which '' -e such, that if any one fodowiU,1,;^:0 -«* "—desired, unless he be IZZdZZ't Q fi2 DISCO UUSE the shortness of ]\fc- r.„ *. judged that there could J "*** °' «*Per™«*ta> I against these two ,i r ^ m°re CffeC'nal Provisio" s, mesc tv, o impediments than if I were f.,-t,re„u, to communicate to the Dublin =,11 at the commencement, •retell "SC °"ly °f What is sP-taneousi; fo, ! , Ui "Si a"d °f Which - "--not remain •vc> sbght, ban to concern ourselves about more un- ~';-d-onditephtciion,ena:thereasonof;i i », that the more uncoinmon often only mislead us so ong as the causes of the more ordinary are , In, hnow,1;aii(tehecireumstaneesuponwhic,inm;d^ ¦ o almost uhvays so ^cud and tninute as to be hthly dillicult to detect. But in Ibis T I , , ° J loving order- first I ,° ^ th° M' .re , ¦ • ' ' h:'V0 p",saKd to find in general M'-.c,,,, or first causes of all that is or can be - I- read, without taking into consideration for th -'fo ..lythuiglnit God hi.nself who has created! and - (bout educing them from any other source than from cc.fain ger„ls of truths naturally existing in our ^•t i", "¦« secoud „laco, I examined what were »'<• iuM am! mostoremary effects that could be deduced ON JtETIIOD. 63 ZZZZT™^ itappenra t0 me ^m this ^of,uJ.M;r;,^oTS?d^reTotLor common and simple, and hence the , t ZZoZ Afterwards, when I wished to descend to then ore p ," icular, so many diverse objects presented theicXs ton-^hmlbelievedittobeim^idbleterthViuiu, ¦nmd to distinguish the forms or species of bod ' ^^-^.^-'-'''niily of others whi "ght have been, ,,„,,,„, pleased (tel ,o pl,ce ,!,,,„ there, or consequently to apply thorn to our „,, unless we nse to causes through their effects, and avLil oU1! selves of many particular experiments. T'ttou.,,.. turning over in my mind all the objects that! had ever been presented to my senses, I freely VL,Ulirc t0 £(a(c hat I have never observed any which I could not s i - J ordy explain by the principles I had discovered h t it ,s necessary also to confess that the power o! nature ,s so ample and vast, and these pnn Lie- eQ «»ple and general, that I have hardly ob e - ed " smgle particular effect which I cannot at ZoZZZ horn th P-iciples and that my greatest, diffieuhv suallyis to discover ,n which of these modes thc effrA " dcP°nd'!Mt ul'«»» «'om ; for out of ,h„ ,m „, ^ cannot otherwise extricate myself than bvaeainS,,, •"Scer.aincxpcrinientewhiehinaybesA.ir -'( "r "-ult isnot the same, if it is in thereof tec, ^ 'ha wc must explain it, as it would be if it explained ,n the other. As to what remains/ m", ¦n a position to discern, as I 1hink,wi!hM,ic!'nicr -ss what course must be telen to make Z am ire "f those experiments which n,ay conduce tit fe 64 DISCOURSE but I perceive likewise that thoy are such and so nun.ej.us, that neither my hJh nor ^ though it were a thousand times larger than it is would be sufficient for them all; so that, according as henceforward I shall have the means of makiim more or fewer experiments, I shall in the same proportion make, greater or less progress in the knowledge of nature. 'Plus was what 1 had hoped to make known by the ireatiscl had written, and so clearly lo exhibit the advantage that would thence accrue to the public, as to induce all who have the common good of man at heart, that is, all who are virtuous in truth, and not merely in appearance, or according to opinion, as well to communicate to mc the experiments they had al ready made, as to assist me in those that remain to be made. But since that time other reasons have occurred to mc, by which I have been led to change my opinion, and to think that I ought indeed to go on committing to writing all the results which I deemed of any mo ment, as soon as I should have tested their truth, and to bestow the same care upon them as I. would have done bad it been my design to publisli them. This course commended itself to me, as well because I thus afforded myself more ample inducement to examine them thoroughly, for doubtless that is always more narrowly scrutinized which we believe will be read by many, than thatvhich is written merely for our private use, (and frequent])- what lias seemed to me true when I first conceived it, has appeared false when I have set about committing it to writing;) as because 1 thus lost no opportunity of advancing the interests of the public, as far as in me lay, and since thus likewise, if my writings possess any value, those into whose OX METHOD. 05 hands they may fall after my death may be able to put them to what n E S C A If T 1-: S tjuxslatu, rro.v -j„K Llr;x _,_,.„ f(.,; ^ "'tin run riirxcu 0 (LA* TENTS. h— THE MEDITATIONS. .11 Dedication,Preface, . SYNOPSIS OF THE MEDITATIONS, . . 91 MEDITATION I. Of the Things of which we may Doubt, . . 97 MEDITATION II. Of the Nature of tlie Human Mind ; and that it is more easily known than the Doily, . . 104 MEDITATION III. Of God : that he exists, . 115 MEDITATION IAr. Of Truth and Error, . . j -yp, MEDITATION Y. Of the Essence of Material Things ; and, again, of God : that lie exists, . . j^.j -> MEDITATION VI. Of the Existence of Material Things, and of thc peal Distinction between the Mind ami Ite dy of Man, . l.'U so OOXTENTS. II.— THE PRINCIPLES OF PHILOSOPHY. Preface, . . . . . 173 Dedication, ... ... 189 PART I. Of the Principles of Human Knowledge, . . . 193 i TART II. Of the Principles of Material Things. Sects, i. to xxv., 232 PART lit. Of the Visible World. Sects, i. to iii., PART IV. Of the Earth. Sects, cixxxviii. to covii., . 247 249 THE mi SAGE AND xlLUSTEIOUS DEAN AND DOCTORS OF THE SACKED FACULTY OF THEOLOGY OF PARIS. Gentlemen, The motive which impels me to present this Treatise to you is so reasonable, and, when you shall learn its design, I am confident that you also will consider that there is ground so valid for your taking it under your protection, that I can in no way better recommend it to you -than by briefly stating the end wliich I proposed to myself in it. I have always been of opinion that the two questions respecting God and the Soul wore the chief of tliose that ought to be determined by help of Philosophy rather than of Theology ; for although to us, thc faithful, it be sufficient to hold as matters of faith, that the human soul does not perish with the body, and that God exists, it yet assuredly seems impossible ever to persuade infidels of the reality of any religion, or almost even any moral virtue, unlcs.-, first of all, those two things be proved to them by natural reason. And since in (his life, there arc. frequently trreater rewards held out to vice than to virtue, low would prefer the right to the useful, if the-/ were restrained neither by the fear of God nor thc expectation of another INDICATION. life ; and although it is quite true that the existence of God is to be believed since it is taught in the sacred Scriptures, and that, on the other band, the sacred Scrip tures are to be believed because they come from God (for since faith is n. gilt of God, thc same I'cing who bestows grace to enable us to believe other things, can likewise impart of it to enable, us to believe his own existence), nevertheless, this cannot be submitted to infidels, who would consider that the. reasoning proceeded in ;i circle. And, indeed, I have observed that you, with nil the other theologians, not only alhrmed the sufficiency of natural reason for the. proof of the existence of God, but also, that if may be inferred from sacred Scripture, that the know ledge of God is much clearer than of many created things, and that it. is really so easy of acquisition as to leave those who do not possess it blame-worthy. This is manifest from these words of the Book of Wisdom, chap, xiii., whore it is said, Ilowbeil they are not to be excused; for if their ¦understanding was so great that they could discern the icorld and the creatures, why did they not rather find out tlie Lord thereof? And in Romans, chap, i., it is said that they are loilhout excuse; and again, in the same place, by these words, — That which may be known of God is manifest in them — we seem to be admonished that all which can be known of God may be made manifest by reasons obtained from no other source than the inspection of our own minds. I have, therefore, thought that it would not be unbecoming in me to inquire bow and by what way, without going out of ourselves, God may be more easily and certainly known than the things of the world. And as regards tho Soul, although many have judged that its nature could not be easily discovered, and some have even vcu lured to say that human reason led to thc conclusion that it perished with the body, and that the cent, ai-y opinion could be held through faith alone; never theless, since the Lateran Council, held under Leo X. (in DEDICATION. S3 session viii.), condemns these, and expressly enjoins Chris tian philosophers to refute their arguments, and establish the truth according to their ability, I have ventured to attempt it in this work. Moreover, I am aware thrt most of the irreligious deny the existence of God, and the distinctness of the human soul from tho body, for no other reason than because these points, as they allege, have never as yet been demonstrated. Now, although I am by no moans of (heir opinion, bul, on the coiitrary, hold (hat almost all thc proofs which have been adduced on these. questions by great men, possess, when righlly undri-si, „•,,], the force of demonslralions, and that it is next to im possible to discover new, yet Ihere is, 1 apprehend, no more useful service to be performed in Philn.-uphy, than if some one were, once for all, carefully to seek out (he best of these reasons, and expound them so accurately and clearly that, for the future, it might be manifest to all thai they aro real demonstrations. And finally, since many persons wore greatly desirous of this, who knew that I had cultivated a certain Method of resolving all kinds of dif ficulties in the sciences, which is not indeed now (there being nothing older than truth), but of wliich thev were aware I had made successful use in other instances, I judged it to be my duty to make trial of it also on the present matter. Now the sum of what I have been able to accomplish on tho subject is contained in this treatise. Not that 1 here essayed to collect all the diverse reasons which might bo adduced as proofs on this subject, for this docs not seem to be necessary, unless on matters where no one proof of adequate certainty is to be had ; but I treated the tirst and chief alone in such a manner that I should yen lure now to propose them as demonstrations of thc hicliest certainty and evidence. And I will also add that they are such as to lead me to think that there is no way open to the mind of man by which proofs superior to them can ever DEDICATION. bo discovered ; for the importance of the subject, and the glory of God, to which all this relates, constrain me to speak hero somewhat more freely of myself than 1 have been accustomed to do. Nevertheless, whatever certitude and evidence I may find in these demonstrations, I cannot therefore persuade myself that they are level to the com prehension of all. But just as in geometry there are many of the demonstrations of Archimedes, Apollonius, Pappus, and others, which, though received by all as evident even and certain (because indeed they manifestly contain nothing wliich, considered by itself, it is not very easy to under stand, and no consequents that are inaccurately related to their antecedents), are nevertheless understood by a very limited number, because they are somewhat long, and de mand the whole attention of thc reader ; so in the same way, although I consider thc demonstrations of which I here make use, to be equal or even superior to the geo metrical in certitude and evidence, I am afraid, nevertheless, that they will not be adequately understood by many, as well because they also are somewhat long and involved, as chiefly because they require the mind to be entirely free from prejudice, and able with ease to detach itself from the commerce of the senses. And, to speak the truth, the ability for metaphysical studies is less general than for those of geometry. And, besides, there is still this differ ence that, as in geometry, all are persuaded that nothing is usually advanced of which there is not a certain demon stration, those but partially versed in it err more frequently in assenting to what is false, from a desire of seeming to understand it, than in denying what is true. In philosophy, on the other hand, where it is believed that all is doubtful, few sincerely give themselves to the search after truth, and by far the greater number seek the reputation of bold thinkers by audaciously impugning such truths as are of the greatest moment. Hence it is that, whatever force my reasonings may pos- OEDICATIOX. sess, yet because they belong to philosophy, I do not expect they will havo much effect on thc minds of men, unless you extend to them your patronage and approval. But since your Faculty is held in so groat esteem by all, and since the name of Sorbonnb is of such authority, that not only in matters of faith, but even also in what regards human philo sophy, has the judgment of no other society, after the Sacred Councils, received so great deference, it being the universal conviction that it is impossible elsewhere to fin! greater perspicacity and solidity, or greater wisdom and integrity in giving judgment, I doubt not,— if you but condescend to pay so much regard to this Treatise as to be willing, in the first place, to correct it (for, mindful not only of my humanity, but chiefly also of my ignorance. I do not affirm that it is free from errors) ; in the second place, to supply what is wanting in it, to perfect what is in complete, and to give more ample ill 'stration where it is demanded, or at least to indicate these defects to inv.-elf that I may endeavour to remedy them ; and, finally, when the reasonings contained in it, by which tlie existence of God and the distinction of tho human soul from the body are established, shall have been brought to such degree of perspicuity as to be esteemed exact dcmcnstratiAns, of which I am assured they admit, if you condescend to accord them the authority of your approbation, and render a public testimony of their truth and certainty. — I doubt not, I say, but that henceforward all tho errors wliich havo ever been entertained on these questions will a cry soon be effaced from the mind? of men. For troth itself will readily lead thc remainder of the ingenious and the learned to subscribe to your judgment ; and your authority will cause the atheists, who are in general sciolists rather than ingenious or learned, fo lay aside the spirit of con tradiction, and lead them, perhaps, to do battle in their own persons for reasonings wliich they find considered demonstrations by all men of genius, lest they should seen; not to understand them ; and, finally, the rest. of mankind will readily trust to so many testimonies, and there will no longer be any one who will venture to doubt either the existence of God or the real distinction of mind and body. It is lor you, in your singular wisdom, to judge of the im portance of the establishment of such beliefs, [who arc cognisant of the disorders wliich doubt of theso truths produces].* IhiL it would not hero become me to coin- mend at greater length tho cause of God and of religion to you, who have always proved the strongest support of thc Catholic. Church. * 'flu' square bnrkot.s, lion.- Hint tliroii^liont tlie volume, arc used to murk additions to '..lie onidun! ,.f the revise,! t'l-ciml, transition. PREFACE TO THE READER. I iiAVn alrondy slighily (.niched upon Ihe quc.siions re- p-pocling (ho existence of God and Ihe nature, of (he human foul, in thc "Discourse on Iho. iMclhodolriehlly.u.nductine the Reason, and seeking truth in thc Sciences," published in French in tho year Ki.'JV ; noi, however, will, the desi..„ of there treating of them fully, but only, as it were, "in passing, that I might learn from the judgments of my readers in what way I should afterwards handle them : for these questions appeared to me to bo of such moment as to be worthy of being considered more than once, and thc path which I follow in discussing them is so little trodden, and so remote from the ordinary route, that I thoucht it would not be expedient to illustrate it at greater length in French, and in a discourse that might be read by all, lest even the more feeble minds should believe that thispath might be entered upon by them. But, as in the Discourse on Method, I had requested all who might find aught meriting censure in my writiims, to do me the favour of pointing it out to me, lAnay state that no objections worthy of remark have been alle-ed against what I then said on these questions, except two, to which I will here briefly reply, before undertaking their more detailed discussion. The first objection is that though, while the human mind reflects on itself, it docs not perceive1* that it is any * Sec Note I. Thc numbers refer in tbe N„t,s, i„ wh;ch „;„ b., found some notices of thc various terms throughout the volume 0- c appeared to require a word of comment. S3 I-KKFACE TO Til IS KEADKIt. other than a thinking thing, it does not follow that its nature or essence consists only in its being a thing which thinks ; so that the word only shall exclude all other things which might also perhaps be said to pertain to the nature of the mind. To this objection I reply, that it was not my intention in that place to exclude these according to the order of truth in thc maltcr (of wliich I did not then treat), but only according to thc order of thought (perception); so that my n leaning was, that 1 clearly apprehended nothing, so tar as 1 -was conscious, as belonging to my essence, except that I was a thinking thing, or a thing possessing in itself the faculty of thinking. But I will show hereafter how, from tlie consciousness that nothing besides thinking belongs to the essence of the mind, it follows that nothing else does in truth belong to it. The second objection is that it does not follow, from my possessing the idea of a thing more perfect than I am, that the idea itself is more perfect than myself, and much less that what is represented by the idea exists. But I reply that in the term idea2 there is here some thing equivocal ; for it may be taken either materially for an act of thc understanding, and in this sense it cannot he said to be more perfect than I, or objectively, for the thing represented by that act, which, although it be not supposed to exist out of my understanding, may, nevertheless, be more perfect than myself, by reason of its essence. But, in the sequel of this treatise I will show more amply how, from my possessing the idea of a thing more perfect than myself, it follows that this thing really exists. Besides these two objections, I have seen, indeed, two treatises of sufficient length relating to the present matter. In these, however, my conclusions, much more than my premise.-, were impugned, and that by arguments borrowed from the common places of the atheists. But, as argu ments of this sort can make no impression on the minds of PBEFACE TO THE HEADER. 89 those who shall rightly understand my reasonings, and as the judgments of many are so irrational and weak that they are persuaded rather by the opinions on a subject that are first presented to them, however false and opposed to reason they may be, than by a true and solid, but subsequently received, refutation of them, I am unwilling here to reply to these strictures from a dread of bciim, in the first instance, obliged to state them. I will only say, in general, that all which the atheists commonly allege in favour of the non-existence ol God, arises continually from one or other of these (wo thiims' namely, cither the ascription of human affections to Deity,' or tho utitluo attribution to our minds of so much vi-mA- and wisdom that we may essay to determine and compre hend both what God can and ought to do; hence all that is alleged by them will occasion us no difficulty, provided only we keep in remembrance that our minds must be considered finite, while Deity is incomprehensible and infinite. Now that I have once, in some measure, made proof of the opinions of men regarding my work, I again undertake to treat of God and thc human soul, and at tho same time to discuss tho principles of the entire First Philosophy without, however, expecting any commendation from' the' crowd for my endeavours, or a vide circle of readers On thc contrary, I would advise none to read this work, unless such as are able and willing to meditate with me in earnest, to detach their minds from commerce with the senses, and likewise to deliver themselves from all prejudice •' and individuals of this character are, I well know, remarkably rare. But with regard to those who, without, earinc A, comprehend the order and connection of tlie rejourn"* shall study only detached clauses for the purpos, of small but noisy criticism, as is the custom with many, I „,„¦ ,.„- that such persons will not pr.o/jt greatly by tlA rcadiA- ,'f this treatise; and allhoug ,. perhaps they may find oppor- 90 riilil-'ACE TO THE IllCAIJKlt. trinity for cavilling in several places, thoy will yet Iiardly start any pressing objections, or such as shall be deserving of reply. But since, indeed, I do not promise to satisfy others on all these subjects at 'first sight, nor arrogate so much to myself as to believe that I havo been able to foresee all that may be the source of difficulty to each one, I shall expound, first of all, in tlie Meditations, thoso considerations by which I feel persuaded that I have arrived at a certain and evident knowledge of truth, in order that I may ascertain whether the reasonings which have prevailed with myself will also be effectual in convincing others. 1 will then reply lo the objections of some men, illustrious for their genius and learning, to whom these Meditations were sent for criticism before they were committed to the press; for these objections arc so numerous and varied that I vent tire to anticipate that nothing, at least nothing of any moment, will readily occur to any mind which has not been touched upon in them. Hence it is that I earnestly entreat my readers not to come to any judgment on the questions raised in the Meditations until they have taken care to read the whole of the Objections, with the relative Beplics. SYNOPSIS or tjm: SIX FOLLOWING MEDITATIONS. ^ (ho First Meditation I „„„,.„, „ w "»'.v doubt i„ oV!,cZZZZ S''0mdSOn^M> «al .objects, so^ ^ ZZ"^ Z ^"^ foundations for he Z ' °fl WC W no other p-ssed. s*zz:z;z :hz^zzeim- may not be manifest at fir t , • 3 °"U £0S^™I g-atest, since it d hvc „ Z Z ' u " \1CTCrt!'cle« - ** Uic easiest pathwyb 1 , f" ^l!'"^ -<' ^ rds « A-om the Z ZZ ZZ1 Z lm'ml ^ W"l5",raw In the Second ,1 , aftorwards discover truth. freedom pe .' ZZZ ^ " thc ™c of «" the existence^ f v, , Z' ^^ thai ™ object is, of ^di^Str intellectual nvZZZZ1 '° ithelf' thal ^ *° the *"t since S0:^ Progress, a s.atJn en o' h ^^ ' *' ^ ^ of °«' ^ofthein^x rrrid'-T^"1'1^0- to make such aware tint it ' ."'"* U r'-oper lice of which I could no! SiZZZdZlZ !° WitC n°lhinS t-refore felt myself obliged to t I ! " "" "^ X ^^-^^zzzzzzzz.zz SVNOPSIS OF TUB SIX FOLLOWING MEDITATIONS. upon which the proposition in question depends, before coming to any conclusion respecting it. Now, the first and chief pre-requisite for tho knowledge of the immor tality of the soul is our being able to form the clearest possible conception (conceptus — concept) of the soul itself, and such as shall be absolutely distinct from nil our notions of body ; and how this is to be accomplished is there shown. There is required, besides this, the assurance that all objects which wc clearly and distinctly think aro true (really exist) in that very niodo in which wc think them ; and this could not be established previously to thc Fourth Meditation, Farther, it is necessary, for tho samo purpose, that wc possess a distinct conception of corporeal nature, which i3 given partly in the Second and partly in the Fifth and Sixth Meditations. And, finally, on these grounds, we are necessitated to conclude, that all tliose objects which are clearly and distinctly conceived to be diverse substances, as mind and body, are substances really re ciprocally distinct ; and this inference is made in the Sixth Meditation. Thc absolute distinction of mind and body is, besides, confirmed in this Second Meditation, by showing that we cannot conceive body unless as divisible; while, on the other hand, mind cannot be conceived unless as indivisible. For we arc not able to conceive the half of a mind, as we can of any body, however small, so that thc natures of tliose two substances are to be held, not only as diverse, but even in some measure as contraries. I have not, however, pursued this discussion further in the present treatise, as well for the reason that these considerations arc sufficient to show that the destruction of the mind does not follow from the corruption of .the body, and thus to afford to men the hope of a future life, as. also because the promises from which it is competent for us to infer the immortality of the soul, involve an explication of thc whole principles of Physics : in order to establish, hi the first place, that generally all substances, that is, 5™orSiS or -x-ni, srx following mentations. 93 tzz;Tiizz ^IZlZ conseqTO of ha^ '» concurrence to them, reduce them To ot W "f »" the second place, that body, taken ~n ' substance, and therefore can nAe- 1 1 %' K " "~body,inasfaras?d;; Z^ZthZZT ^ constituted only by a certain .r, r "''"' H fn-1 by other aemden^n ZZZZZZf^''^ '« "ot made „p 0f accident* , , t Z 7 "'""' For although all the accident c ,, rdT 7 7"' a't ough, for example, it think JZZZZZZ^ »»d perceive others, the mmd i(s„I<- ,in \ ' w m its own nature immortal ° mmd lZZZvh;dMedit!lti0n' * W ™^ «t sufficient .length, as appears to me, my chief ar^-ncm A ?, existence of God R,,(mi ¦ A ai=>u>ncnt f°r the avoid the use of ;0mP , i 0,t ZZZZ™ ^ '^ <° that I might withdra ° 7 ma'01'ial obJco,s> -y-^zz^:2:i,ZmZz:^zmizo[ remain, which, however, will I u-,ZZ A per,,aPs removed in the Eepli To '1 Ol ' >¦ ^ ^^ ^; thingS, it ^mcZoZz:z:zzzzs of a being absolutely nerfect which !„ <• ¦ ldea Possesses so much ob^Zo rZl\Z 'bT 7^ representation in so many de^iee f bc h^ 7^^ * that it must be held to arL hC iZZl^ZZT3 lhW is illustrated in the Replies bv he ' PCl'lCCZ- ;f7P^et machine, thc idSoT^i ZZZZZ^i of some workman ; foras the objective (,' , ~ , , ° " perfection of this idea must have some Z '7'.^^^ 9i srxoras ok the six following meditations. whom lie has received the idea, in the same way the idea of God, which is found in us, demands God himself for its cause. In the Fourth, it is shown that all which we clearly and distinctly perceive (apprehend) is true ; and, at the same time, is explained wherein consists tho nature of error ; points that require to be known as well for confirming the preceding truths, as for thc better understanding nf those that are to follow. But, meauwliile, it must be observed, (hat 1 do not at all there treat of Sin, that is, of error committed in fhe pursuit, of good and evil, but of that sort alone, which arises in thc determination of the true and the false. Nor do I refer to matters of faith, or to the conduct of life, but only to what regards specu lative truths, and such as are known by means of the natural light alone. In the Fifth, besides the illustration of corporeal nature, taken generically, a new demonstration is given of tho existence of God, not free, perhaps, any more than the former, from certain difficulties, but of these the solution will be found in the Replies to the Objections. I further show, in what sense it is true that the certitude of geo metrical demonstrations themselves is dependent on the knowledge, of God. Finally, in the Sixth, tho act of the understanding (inteJ/cetio) is distinguished from that of the imagination (imae/ineitio) ; flic, marks of this distinction are described ; the human mind is shown to be really distinct from thc body, and, nevertheless, to be so closely conjoined there with, as together to form, as it were, a unity. The whole of the errors which arise from thc senses are brought under review, while the means of avoiding them are pointed out ; and, finally, all the grounds aro adduced from which the existence of material objects may be inferred ; not. however, because I deemed them of great utility in establishing what they prove, vi/..', that there is in reality SVMOPSI8 OF THE SIX FOLLOWING Hr,,1TAT,os, «,, ~':;f^:A::rAA::H He reasonings which conduct us to the kn.Avlcde "-'••-'ofGod^so.hatdielaltc,.. Z, Z Z " ^ -der human knowledge, the mo, cZZ ZZZZ ^ eoncusion which it was my sinclc aim in these Me li ^fo establish; on which account I here omit 2 of the various other questions which, in (!lc com.g, of t* ¦hscussion, I had occasion likewise to consider ' MEDITATIONS ON THE FIRST PHILOSOPHY, TT1B EX18TJ5NCF. OF COD, AND TltF UFA], 1XSTLXCT10N OF MIND AND UODY, AUK DF.MONSTKATFD MEDITATION I. OF THE THINGS OF WUICn WE MAY DOUBT. oevehal years have now elapsed since I first became aware that I had accepted, even from my youth, ma alse opinions for true, and that consequently what after-' wards based on such principles was highly doubtful "j rom that time I was convinced of the necessity of , takm.n- nnnn In r,,,. i:c x_ ¦ -, . „ J UIUIU ¦ — — «„x ,;,c necessity ,tl !"!!^m^ifbto rid m^ of all the opinions vcrk of iblisli a Hut as * i t "c ui,c oi srrcat. ma. on. tude, I waited until I had attained T , , . , ¦¦•" "Vomi ui an mi I Jmd adopted, and of commencing anew the work of establish a ¦ - .1 the sciences. Hut as this enterprise appeared to mc to be one of -n-cat -i— > ""« ui ooinmcncing anev, building from tlie foundation, if I d^ired firm and abiding superstructure in ^ an aire so uiaturo v, tn euro me no hope that at any stage of bib more ZZl I should be better able to execute my deshm. 0 account, I have delayed so Ion, that /should bZZ-- , consider I was doing wrong were I 8tiU l0 consume n 98 MEDITATION I. deliberation any of the time that now remains for action. To-day, then, since I have opportunely freed my mind from all cares, Quid am happily disturbed by no passions], and since I am in the secure possession of leisure in a peaceable retirement, I will at length apply myself ear nestly and freely to the general overthrow of all my former opinions. But, to this end, it will not be necessary for me to show that the whole of these arc false, — a point, perhaps, which I shall never reach ; but as even now my reason convinces me that I ought not thc less carefully to withhold belief from what is not entirely certain and indubitable, than from what is manifestly false, it will be sitllicicnt to justify the rejection of tho whole if I shall find in each some ground for doubt. Nor for this purpose will it be necessary o\ en to deal with each belief individually, which would be truly an endless labour; but, as the re moval from below of the foundation necessarily involves the downfall of the whole edifice, I will at once approach . the criticism or the principles on which all my former beliefs rested. All that I have, up to this moment, accepted as possessed of the. highest truth and certainty, I received either from or through the senses.1 I observed, however, that these sometimes misled us ; and it is the part of prudence not to place absolute confidence in that by which we have even once been deceived. But it may he said, perhaps, that, although the senses occasionally mislead us respecting minute objects, and such as are so far removed from us as to be beyond the reach of close observation, there are yet many other of their informations (presentations), of the truth of which it is manifestly impossible to doubt; as for example, that I am in this place, seated by the fire, clothed in a winter dress ing-gown, that I hold in my bands this piece oi paper, with other intimations of the same nature, But bow could I deny that I possess these hands and this body, and OF THE THINGS OF WHICH WE MAY DOUBT. J withal escape being classed with persons in a state of b sanity, whose brains are so disordered and clouded by dai bilious vapours as to cause (hem pertinaciously to a-se that they are monarchs when they are in tlie n-reate, poverty; or clothed [in gold} and purple when dcMhute c any covering ; or that their head is made of clay thei body of glass, or that they arc gourds ? I should eertai.,1 he not less insane than they, were I to regulate my pro' ceiluro according to examples so extravagant _ Though this be true, I must nevertheless here com s«lcr that I am a man, and that, consequent, 1 am j„ Hlc habit of sleeping, and representing to- ,„v,eli'i„ dream, those same things, or even sometimes others less nrobablo which tho insane think arc presented to Ihcm'in their waking moments. How often have I dreamt that I was in these familiar circumstances,— that I was drc^ed and occupied this place by the fire, when I was lying undressed in bed. At the present moment, 'however, I certainly look upon this paper with eyes wide awake; the head which I now move is not asleep ; I extend this hand con sciously and with express purpose, and I perceive it; the occurrences in sleep are not so distinct as all thi* But I cannot forget that, at other times, I have been deceived in sleep by similar illusions ; and, attentively considering those cases, I perceive so clearly that there exist no ecrKn marks by which the state of waking can ever be distin guished from sleep, that I feel eresitly a*roni*hcd • and m amazement I almost persuade myself that I am' now dreaming. Let us suppose, then, that we are dreaming and that all these particulars— namely, the opening of "the ey„. ,he motion of the W,, the forth-puttiugAf thc hamhlaro merely illusions; and even that we reallv p,^Cs< nm'tl er an entire body nor hands such as wc sec". Ncverih-W it must bo admitted at least that the objects which -or7- to us in sleep are, as it were, painicd replantations .-ui:i>nv\. TION I. which could not havo been formed unless in the likoneso of realities; and, therefore, that those general objects, at all events, — namely, eyes, a head, bands, and an entire body — are not simply imaginary, but really existent. For, in truth, painters themselves, even when they study to represent sirens and satyrs by forms the most fantastic and extraordinary, cannot bestow upon them natures abso lutely new, but can only make a certain medley of the members of dill'crcut animals; or if they chance to imagine something so novel that nothing at all similar has over been seen before, and such as is, therefore, purely fictitious and absolutely false, it is at least certain that the colours of wliich this is composed arc real. And on the same principle, although these general objects, viz. [a body], eyes, a head, hands, and the like, be imaginary, we are nevertheless absolutely necessitated . to admit the reality at least of some other objects still more simple and universal than these, of which, just as of certain real colours, all those images of things, whether true and real, or false and fantastic, that are found in our consciousness {cogitatio),5 are formed. To this class of objects seem to belong corporeal nature in general and its extension ; the figure of extended things, their quantity or magnitude, and their number, as also the place in, and the time during, wliich they exist, and other things of the same sort. We will not, therefore, perhaps reason illegitimately if we conclude from this that Physics, Astronomy, Medicine, and all the other sciences that have for their end the consideration of composite objects, aro indeed of a doubtful character; hut that Arithmetic, Geo metry, and the other sciences of thc same class, which regard merely thc simplest and most general objects, and scarcely inquire wl, ether or not theso aro really existent, contain somewhat that is certain and indubitablo : for whether I am awake or dreaming, it remains true that two and three make five, and that a square has but four OF TIIU THINGS OF WHICH WE MAY LOUBf. 101 sides ; nor does it seem possible that truths so apparent car, ever fall under a suspicion of falsity [or incertitude-]. Nevertheless, the belief that there is a God who is all- powerful, and who created me, such as I am, has, for a long time, obtained steady possession of my mind. How then do I know that he has not arranged that there should be neither earth, nor sky, nor any extended thin-, nor figure, nor magnitude, nor place, nrovidin- at the same time, however, for [the rise in me of the pcrceolions otall these objects, and] thc persuasion that these do not exist otherwise than as I perceive them '? And ft.rlhcr as I sometimes think that others are in error rcsncciii- mat ters of which they believe themselves to possess a perfect knowledge, how do I know that I am not aho deceived each time I add together two and three, or number the sides of a square, or form some judgment still more simple, if more simple indeed can be imagined? But perhaps Deity has not been willing that I should be the* deceived, for He is said to be supremely good. If. how ever, it were repugnant to the goodness of Dcitv {o h„c created me subject to constant deception, it would seem likewise to be contrary to his goodness to al'mv nc to be occasionally deceived ; and yet it is clear that thh is permitted. Some, indeed, might perhaps bo found who would be disposed rather to deny the existence of a Be— -0 powerful than to believe that there is nothing certain But let us for thc present refrain from opposing this otlnhv, -,„,! grant that all which is here said of a Deity is' fabulous • nevertheless, in whatever way it be suuposcd tl.-f I re^\7 the state in which I exist, whether by fitc, or chance or by an endless series of antecedents And consequents; or by any other means, it is clear (since to he d, .vived and to err is a certain defect) lhat the probabdily of my f, '.;„.' so imperfect as to be thc constant vie-niAof dAa ,,(;,„/ will be increased exactly in proportion as thc power" possessed by thc cause, to which they assign my orM,, S1EDITATION I. is lessened. To these reasonings I havo assuredly nothing to reply, but am constrained at last to avow that there is nothing of all that I formerly believed to be true of which it is impossible to doubt, and that not through thoughtless ness or levity, but from cogent and maturely considered reasons ; so that henceforward, if I desire to discover anything certain, I ought not the less carefully to refrain from assenting to tliose same opinions than to what might be shown to bo manifestly false, But it is not sufficient to have made these observations ; care must be taken likewise to keep them in remembrance. For those old and customary opinions perpetually recur — long and familiar usage giving them the. right of occupying my mind, even almost against my will, and subduing my belief; nor will I lose the habit of deferring to them and confiding in them so long as I shall consider them to be what in truth they are, viz., opinions to some extent doubtful, as I have ahead)' shown, but still highly probable, and such as it is much more reasonable to believe than deny. It is for this reason I am persuaded that I shall not be doing wrong, if, taking un opposite judgment of deliberate design, I become my own deceiver, by supposing, for a time, that all those opinions are entirely false and imaginary, until at length, liaving thus balanced my old by my new prejudices, my judgment shall no longer be turned aside by perverted usage from the path that may conduct to thc perception of truth. For I am assured that, meanwhile, there will arise neither peril nor error from this course, and that I cannot for the present yield too much lo distrust, since the end I now seek is not action but knowledge. I will suppose, then, not that Deity, who is sovereignly good and the fountain of truth, but that some malignant demon, who is at once exceedingly potent and deceitful, has employed all his artifice lo deceive mc ; I will suppose that the sky, the air, thc earth, colours, figures, sounds, and all external things, are nothing better than the illusions OK THE THINGS Or WHICH WE MAY DOUBl. 103 ot dreams, by means of which this being has laid snares for my credulity ; I will consider myself as without hands, eyes, flesh, blood, or any of the senses, and as falsely believing that I am possessed of these ; I will continue resolutely fixed in this belief, and if indeed by this means it be not i" my power to arrive at the knowledge of truth. I shall at least do what is in my power, viz., [suspend my judgment], and guard with settled purpose against giving my assent to what is false, and being imposed upon by this deceiver, whatever be his power and art i lice. But Ibis undertaking is arduous, and a ccrlain indolence insensibly leads mc back to my ordinary course, ol life ; and just as thc captive, who, perchance, was enjoying in his dreams an imaginary liberty, when he begins to suspect that it is but a vision, dreads awakening, and conspires with the agreeable illusions that the deception may be prolonged; so I, of my own accord, fail back into tlie train of my former beliefs, and rear to arouse myself from my slumber, lest the time of laborious wakefulness that would succeed this quiet rest, in place of bringing any light of day, should prove inadequate to dispel the darkness thai will arise from the difficulties that have now been raised. 104 MEDITATION H. MEDITATION II. OF THE NATURE OF THE HUMAN MIND; AND THAT IT IS MOKE EASILY KNOWN THAN THE BODY. The Meditation of yesterday has filled my mind with so many doubts, that it is no longer in my power to forget them. Nor do I see, meanwhile, any principle on which they can be resolved ; and, just as if I had fallen all of a sudden into very deep water, I am so greatly disconcerted as to be unable either to plant my feet firmly on the bottom or sustain myself by swimming on thc surface. I will, nevertheless, make an effort, and try anew the same path on which I had entered yesterday, that is, proceed by easting aside all that admits of the slightest doubt, not less than if I had discovered it to be absolutely false ; and I will continue always in this track until I shall find something that is certain, or at least, if I can do nothing more, until I shall know with certainty that there is nothing certain. Archimedes, that he might transport (ho entire globe, from the place it occupied' to another, de manded only a point, that was firm and immoveable; so also, I shall be en I i tied to entertain the highest expectations, if I am fortunate enough to discover only one thing that is certain and indubitable. I suppose, accordingly, that all thc things which I sec are false (fictitious) ; I believe that none of those objects which my fallacious memory represents ever existed; I suppose that I possess no senses; I believe that body, figure, extension, motion, and place arc merely fictions of OF THE NAIUHI! OP THE HUMAN MIND. , f, ", TrlT^ZZ " Z™' the"' that «n ^ -teemed true ? Perhaps this only, that there is absolutely nothing certain. J d But how do I know that there is not something different altogether from the objects I have now enumerated, of which it is impossible to entertain the slightest doubt, Is there not a God, or some being, by whatever name I may designate him, who causes these fbo,„d,(s to ari-o in my mmd? But wliy suppose such a bci,,- f01. it nn bo I myself nm capable of producing (]lom » Anl j then, at least not something? J!ul. t ,)cf(,n, (lcj|i(,(] ()n| [ possessed senses or a body; I hesitate, however, for what lollops from that? Am I so dependent on the body -ml the senses that without these I cannot exist ? But I had the persuasion that there was absolutely nothing j„ the world, that there was no sky and no earth, neitlmr minds nor bodies; was I not, therefore, at thc same time txr suaded that I did not exist? Far from it; I assuredly existed, since I was persuaded. But there is I know no' what being, .who is possessed at once of the hichest power and the deepest cunning, who is constantly emplovin- all his ingenuity in deceiving me. Doubtless, then, I exb' since I am deceived ; and, let him deceive me as he m7 he can never bring it about that I am nothing so Ion- as I shall be conscious that I am something. SoA'nt it mii en was HI knew with so much distinctness in the p!; of Max? Assuredly, it could be nothing ol all that I ,,1, servpd by means oP (hc ^ ^ fel under (astc, smell, sight, touch, and hearingarc cicnl and yet ,ho same wax remain. It was p^ps ^ 'J now think v,2., that this wax was neither the Lee tits of honey, the pleasant odour of flowers, the whitenel "he %ure, noi-the.sound, but only a body that a little bo> appeared to me conspicuous. under these forms, and yd k is now perceived under others. But, to speak pi ly what is it that I imagine when I think of ,1 Z 7ZZJl Let it be attentively considered, and, retrenching al ,1 -it does not belong to the wax, let us see what remains! Tl e eitanly remains nothing, except something exten flexible, and moveable. But what is meant°by Z Mo and moveable ? Is it not that I imagine that (^ , r wax, being round, is capable of becom , I '% ^ Z li passing rrom a square into a tn,n,ul7 7 Z 7 suredly such is not the case beca„=,: T or , admitsofaninfinityofsimilJrch^ r^r:;; over, unab e to compass this infinity ^ ima,in tt ad eonsequently this conception which IhZo of th y Z is no the product of the faculty of imagination r ? , »«* -tension? Is it lot aZZZZ ? ZZ ZZZ greater when the wax is melted, greater whci I i": I? and greater still when the heat increases ¦ -,,,,! m not conceive [clearly and] according to truthl^ ^ >t is, if I did not suppose that the piece wc are consider,',',. 132 MEDITATION II. admitted even of a wider variety of extension than I ever imagined. I must, therefore, admit that I cannot even comprehend by imagination what the piece of wax is, and that it is the mind alone {mens, Bat., entendement, F.) which perceives it. I speak of one piece in particular ; for, as to wax in general, this is still more evident. But what is the piece of wax that can be perceived only by the [hinder-standing or] mind? It is certainly the same which I see, touch, imagine; and, in fine, it is thc same which, from thc beginning, I believed it, to be. But (and this it is of moment fo observe) fhe perception of it is neither an act of sight, of touch, nor of imagination, and never was cither or these, though it. might formerly seem so, but is simply an intuition (inipectio) of the mind, which may be imperfect and confused, as it formerly was, or very clear and distinct, as it is at present, according as the attention is more or less directed to the elements which it contains, and of which it is composed.But, meanwhile, I feel greatly astonished when I ob serve Qbe weakness of my mind, and] its proneness to error. For although, without at all giving expression to what I think, I consider all this in my own mind, words yet occasionally impede my progress, and I am almost led into error by the terms of ordinary language. We say, for example, that we see the same wax when it is before us, and not that we judge it to bo the same from its retaining the same colour and figure: whence I should forthwith be disposed to conclude that the wax is known by the act of sight, and not by the intuition of the mind alone, were it not for the analogous instance of human beings passing on in the street below, as observed from a window. In this case I do not fail to say that, I sec the men themselves, just as I say that I sec the wax ; and yet what do I see froi.i the window beyond hats and cloaks that might, cover artificial machines, whose motions might be determined by springs ? But 1 judge that there are human Qt THS NATUKI5 OF THE HUMAN MIND. 113 beings from those appearances, and thus I comprehend, by the faculty of judgment alone which is in the mind, what I believed I saw with my eyes. The man who makes it his aim to rise to knowledge superior to the common, ought to be ashamed to seek occasions of doubting from the vulgar forms of speech : instead, therefore, of doing this, I shall proceed with thc matter in hand, and inquire whether I had a clearer and more perfect perception of the piece of wax when I first saw it, and when I thought I knew it by means of tlie external sense itself, or, at all events, by the common sense (sensus communis), as it is called, that is, by the imaginative faculty; or whclhcr I rather apprehend it imuv clearly at present, after haying examined with greater care, both what it is, and in what way it can be known. It would certainly be ridiculous to entertain tiny doubt on this point. For what, in that first perception, was there distinct? What did. I perceive which any animal might not have perceived? But when I distinguish the wax from its exterior forms, and when, as if I had stripped it of its vestments, I consider it quite naked, it is certain, although some error may still be found in my judgment, that I cannot, nevertheless, thus apprehend it without possAsinc a human mind. ' But, finally, what shall I say of the mind itself, that is, of myself? for as yet I do not admit that I am anvthing but mind. What, then ! I who seem to posses* so dis tinct an apprehension of thc piece of wax,— do I not know myself, both with greater truth and certitude, and also much more distinctly and clearly? For if I judtrc that the wax exists because I see it, it assuredly follows, much more evidently, that I myself am or exist, for the same reason : for it is possible that what I see may not in mith be wax, and that I do not oven possess eyes with which to sec anything; but it cannot bo that when I sec, or. which comes to the same thing, when I think I see I 114 MULUTATION JI. myself who think am nothing. So likewise, if I judge that the wax exists because I touch it, it will still also follow that 1 am ; and if I determine that my imagination, or any other cause, whatever it be, persuades me of tho existence of the wax, I will still draw the same conclusion. And what is here remarked of the piece of wax, is appli cable to all (he other things that are external to mc. And further, if the [notion or] perception of wax appeared to me more precise and distinct, after that not only sight and touch, but many other causes besides, rendered it manifest to my apprehension, with how much greater distinctness must 1 now know myself, since all the reasons that con tribute to the knowledge, of Ihe nature of wax, or of any body whatever, manifest still better the nature of my mind ? And there are besides so many other things in the mind itself that contribute to the illustration of its nature, that those dependent on the body, to which I have here referred, scarcely merit to be taken into account. But, in conclusion, I find I have insensibly reverted to the point I desired ; for, since it is now manifest to mc that bodies themselves arc not. properly perceived by thc senses nor by thc faculty of imagination, but by the intellect alone ; and since they arc not perceived because they are seen and touched, but only because they are understood £or rightly comprehended by thought], I readily discover that there is nothing more easily or clearly apprehended than my own mind. But because it is dillicult to rid one's self so promptly of an opinion to wliich one has been long accustomed, it will be desirable to lurry for some, time at. this stage, that, by long continued meditation, I may more deeply impress upon my memory this new know hl^e. OF GOD : THAT 1 in hx!3ia. 115 MEDITATION III. OF GOD : that iii; exists. I will now close my eyes, 1 will stop my cars, T will turn away my senses from their objects, I will even educe from my consciousness all lho images of corporeal things; or at least, because this can hardly be accomplished, I will consider them as empty and false; and thus, holding eon- verse only with myself, and closely examining my nature, I will endeavour to obtain by degrees a more intimate and familiar knowledge of myself. I am a. thinking (conscious; thing, that is, a being who doubts, affirm-, denies, knows a few objects, and is ignorant of many. — [[who loves hates]. wills, refuses, — who imagines likewise, and perceives ; h,r, as I before remarked, although the things wliich 1 perceive or imagine arc perhaps nothing at all apart from me raud in themselves], I am nevertheless assured that those modes of consciousness which I call perceptions and imaginations, in as far only as they are modes of consciousness, exist in me. 'And in the little. I have said I think I have summed up all that I really know, or at least all that up to tiiis time I was aware I knew. I\Tow, as I am endeavouring to extend my knowledge, more widely, I will use. cir cumspection, and consider with care whether I can still discover in myself anything further which I have not yet hitherto observed. I am certain that 1 am a thinking thing; but. do J not therefore likewise know what is required to render me certain of a truth'? In this first knowledge, doubtless, there is nothhi"- that "ives nA> US MEDITATION III. ¦ assurance of its truth except the clear and distinct per ception of what I affirm, which would not indeed be sufficient to give me tho assurance that what I say is true, if it could ever happen that anything I thus clearly and distinctly perceived should prove false ; and accordingly it seems to me that I may now take as a general rule, that all that is very clearly and distinctly apprehended (conceived) is true.Nevertheless I before received and admitted many things as wholly certain and manifest, wliich yet I afterwards found to be doubtful. What, then, were tliose? They were the earth, the sky, the stars, and all the other objects which I was in thc habit of perceiving by the senses. But what was it that I clearly [and distinctly] perceived in them? Nothing more than that the ideas and the thoughts of those objects were presented to my mind. And even now I do not deny that these ideas aro found in my mind. But there was yet another thing which I affirmed, and which, from having been accustomed to believe it, I thought I clearly perceived* although, in truth, I did not perceive it at all ; I mean the existence of objects external to mc, from which those ideas proceeded, and to which they had a perfect, resemblance ; and it was here I was mistaken, or if I judged correctly, this assuredly was not to be traced to any knowledge I possessed (the force of my perception, Bat.). But when I considered any matter in arithmetic and geometry, that was very simple and easy, as, for example, that two and three added together make five, and things of this sort, did I not view them with at least sufficient clearness to warrant mo in affirming their truth ? Indeed, if I afterwards judged that wc ought to doubt of these things, it was for no other reason than because it occurred to mc that a God might perhaps have given me such a nature us that I should be deceived, even respecting the matters that appeared to me the most evidently true. But as often OF GOD : THAT HE EXISTS. 117 as this preconceived opinion of the sovereign power of a God presents itself to my mind, I am constrained to admit that it is easy for him, if he wishes it, lo cause me to err, even in matters where I think I possess tho highest evi dence ; and, on the other band, as often as 1 direct my attention to things which I think I apprehend with great clearness, I am so persuaded of their truth that I natuially break out into expressions such as these: Deceive me who may, no one will yet ever be able to bring it about that I am not, so long as I shall be conscious that I am, or at any future time cause it to be true that I have never been, it being now true that I am, or make two and three more or less than five, iu supposing which, and other like ab surdities, I discover a manifest contradiction. And in truth, as I have no ground for believing that Deity is deceitful, and as, indeed, I have not even con sidered the reasons by which the existence of a Deity of any kind is established, the ground of doubt that rests only on this supposition is very slight, and. so to speak, metaphysical. , But, that I may be able wholly to remove it, I must inquire whether there is a God, as soon as an opportunity of doing so shall present itself; and if 1 find that there is a God, I must examine likewise whether he can be a deceiver ; for, without the knowledge of these two truths, I do not see that I can ever be certain of any thing. And that I may be enabled to examine this without interrupting the order of meditation I havo proposed to myself [which is, to pass by degrees from the notions that I shall find first in my mind to those I shall afterwards discover in it], it is necessary at this stage to divide all my thoughts into certain classes, and to consider in which of these classes truth and error arc, strictly spoakir.g. to lie found. Of my thoughts some are, as it were, images of things, and to these alone properly belongs the name idea; as when I think [represent to my mind] a man. a chimera, 118 MEDITATION III. the sky, an angel, or God. Others, again, have cer tain other forms ; as when I will, fear, affirm, or deny, i always, indeed, apprehend something as the object of my thought, but I also embrace in thought something more than thc representation of the object; and of this class of thoughts some are called volitions or affections, and others judgments. Now, with respect to ideas, if these are considered only m themselves, and are not referred to any object beyond them, they cannot, properly speaking, be false ; for, whe ther 1 imagine a goat or a chimera, it is not less true that 1 imagine the one than the oilier. Nor need we fear that falsity may exist iu (he will or ail'cctions ; for, although I may desire objects that are wrong, and even that nev°er existed, it is still true, that I desire them. There thus only remain our judgments, in which we must take diligent heed that we be not deceived. But the chief and most ordinary error that arises in them consists in judging that the ideas which are in us are like or conformed to the things that, are external to us; for assuredly, if wo but considered thc ideas themselves as certain modes of our thought (consciousness), without referring them to any thing beyond, they would hardly afford any occasion of error. But, among these ideas, some appear to me to be innate,8 others adventitious, and others to be made by myself (factitious); for, as I have the power of conceiving what is called a thine, or a truth, or a thought, it seems°to me that I hold, this power from no other source than my own nature. ; but if I now hear a noise, if I sec the sun, or if I feci heat, I have all along judged that these sensations proceeded from certain objects existing out of myself; and, in fine, it appears to mo that sirens, hippogryphs, and thc like, are inventions of my own mind. But I may even perhaps come to be of opinion that all my ideas are of lie. class which I call adventitious, or that thev are all OF GOD : THAT HE EXISTS. lift innate, or that they are all factitious, for I have not vet clearly discovered their true origin ; and what I have here principally to do is to consider, with reference fo those that appear to come from certain objects without me, what grounds there are for thinking them like those objects. Tlie first of these grounds is that it seems to me 1 am so taught by nature; and the second that I am con scious that those ideas arc not dependent on my will, and therefore not, on myself, for they are frequently presented to me against my will, — as at present, whether I will or not, I feel heat; audi am thus persuaded that (his sen sation or idea (sensum vcl idcatu) of heat is produced, in nic by something different from myself, \iz., by the heat of the fire by which I sit. And it is very reasonable to suppose that this object impresses me with its own likeness rather than any other tiling. But I must consider whether these reasons arc sufficient! v strong and convincing. When I speak of being taught by nature in this matter, I understand by the word nature only a certain spontaneous impetus that impels mc to believe in a resemblance between ideas and their objects, and not a natural light that affords a knowledge of its truth. But these two things are widely different; for what the natural light shows to be true can be in no decree doubtful, as, for example, that I am because I doubl, and other truths of the like kind: inasmuch as I possess no other faculty whereby to distinguish truth from error, wliich can teach me the falsity of what flic natural light declares to be (rue, and which is equally trcsl-woilA- ; but with respect to [seemingly] natural impulses, I have observed, when the question related to the choice of right or wrong in action, that they freqiuntly led mc to take the worse part; nor do I see that I have any better ground for following them in what relates to truth and error. Then, with respect to the other reason, which is 120 MEDITATION III. Z:ZZ7ZZ 7Znotd^^-y^^y -ore eon , b7 ZZZZ" ^7'- ™' * *° "0t find " -P"lses, of whic I h 1 H1' J°i' JUSt " 'h0S° »«"»! notwiths ,,„di ^ !:,!" , if VP,°kCn' ai'° f°U"d S» ™> -v will, so lit-:,, , , 7 "° ahvi^8 in ha™y with ''--AA:.:;;::!;,,AA;:i:^:r;r.A,,0,',,,s™'' n::A::i:A::A::T::;;:''^u-;-;i'"::=- a .u-e-if dilfcr ' ', °f ,n8t~> thnt there was a .cut dille.cn c between the object and its idea. Thus ZZZZ h y Zl u nppcnn t0 mo «'™™iy P ed i , 0 fl '> I'01" thC SOTSeS' Md "-ould he wl hi i e ° OT :U,WntUl0US ^ the other, bv ea h i t -c m? T^ tnn°S lal'gei' thBn thc -^ole eaitli, is taken up on astronomical grounds, that is elicited A:::;r:,A;AA;;A'AA?c' A* f™rf b->s ' ": ,' 0,ll> fl'0ln a sort of blind impulse that I on means timght be, conveyed their ideas or ima^s '"i 7; 7m]. ^ imP"8^ ^ -th their likenesses] 7 But there ,s still another way 0r inquiring whether of he oueots whose ^as arc in my mmd/there^are an^h -W o.,t 01 ,uc. If uleas arc taken in so far only as thev «™ cctani modes of consciousness, I do not remark any OF GOD : THAT HE KXISTS. 1-M difference or inequality among them, and all seem, in „I0 r ~P« l0 'A™1 ^ myself; but, ,,,„„, then as images, of which o,ie represents one thn,,,- ,md another a different, it is evident that a creat divV ohtams among them. Bo,, without doub,, ZZ ht represent substances are something more, and contain in themselves, so to speak, more objective reality [that is l-.''i'tm.pa(c by representation in higher degrees, of u7 °r pcrlec.tion], ,],„„ 1Il0RC tlul, ^.^.^ " ^^ - accidents; and again, (he idea by which I con-'civc a ,h„l [.sovereign], eternal, infinite, [immutable], albku-vb-r « -Powerlul, and the creator of all, h„,,A , hat are out oi Inn scir,-_(l„s, I say, has ccrlaii,ly i„ it „„„,. (ib;,v|iv„ reality than those ideas by which finite substances arc represented. ' , Now, it is manifest by fhe natural light that they -„,-, I at lca?t ,,c as "™<* reality in the efficient, and total n-,1 | ^ ,n its effect; for whcDce can the efie.-t draw its 7dZ I if not from its cause? and how could thc cause communi cate to it this reality unless it possessed it in iiself > And hence it follows, not only that what is cannot be nr-vueed by what is not, but likewise that the more pcrfi^-in oilier words, that which contains in itself more re-ity _ cannot be the effect of the less perfect: and diis'"is iiot only evuently true of those effects, whose reality is actual or formal, but likewise of ideas, whose reality i, onb- con sidered as objective. Thus, for example, the Mono tin* is not yet m existence, not only cannot now commence lo" he, unless it be produced by that which possesses in it-eK formally or eminently/ all that enlers into its coinposilion" [m other words, by that which contains in itself the .--J properties that are in thc stone, or others superior' '0 1mm ; and heat can only bo produced in a subject tl^ was before devoid of it, by a cause that is of an 01 dZ [degree or kind], at least as perfect „, heat : and so of Z other, ^t further, even the idea of the heat, o°,h 1L'2 MEDITATION IIT. b one, cannot exist in me unless it be put there by a cause bat contams, at least, as much reality as I conceive t and excellent, that the more attentively I consider the A tho less I feel persuaded that Iho idea I have of them owes its origin to myself alone. And (bus it is absolulcly necessary to conclude, from all that I have before said, that (loci exists: for though the idea of substance be in my mind owing to this, that I myself am a substance, I should not however, have thc idea ol an infinite substance, s.-ci„.* I MEDITATION III. am a finite being, unless it were given me by some sub stance in reality infinite. And I must not imagine that I do not apprehend (ho infinite by a true idea, but only by the negation of the finite, in tho same way that I comprehend repose and darkness by thc negation of motion and light: since, on the contrary, 1 clearly perceive that there is more reality in the infinite substance than in thc finite, and therefore that in some way I possess thc perception (notion) of the infinite before that of the finite, that is, the perception of God before that of myself, for how could I know that I doubt, desire, or that something is wanting to me, and that 1 am not wholly perfect, if I possessed no idea of a being more perfect than myself, by comparison of which I knew the deficiencies of my nature ? And it cannot be said that this idea of God is perhaps materially false, and consequently that it may have arisen from, nothing, [in other words, that it may exist in me from my imperfection], as I before said of the ideas of heat and cold, and the like: for, on the contrary, as this idea is very clear and distinct, and contains in itself more objective reality than any other, there can be no one of itself more Lrue, or less open to the suspicion of falsity. The idea, I say, of a being supremely perfect, and infinite, is in the highest degree true ; for although, per haps, wo may imagine that such a being does not exist, we cannot, nevertheless, suppose that his idea represents nothing real, as I have already said of the idea of cold. It is likewise clear and distinct in the highest degree, since whatever the mind clearly and distinctly conceives as real or true, and as implying any perfection, is contained entire in this idea. And this is true, nevertheless, although I do not ¦: unprchend the infinite, and although there may be in God an infinity of things that I cannot compre hend, nor perhaps even compass by thought in any way ; ' for it is of the nature of the infinite that it should not bo OP COD: THAT HE EXISTS. comprehended by the finite ; and it is enough that I rfohtl, understand this, and judge that all which I elcarl/p,.,' ceivc, and in which I know there is some perfection are perhaps also an infinity of properties of which I am ignor ant, are formally or eminently in God, in order thai thc idea I have of him may become the most true, clear, and distinct of all the ideas in my mind. But perhaps I am something more than T suppose myself to be, and it may be that all (hose perfections wliich I attribute to God, in some way exist potentially in mc, although they do not yet show themselves and arc not reduced to act. Indeed, I am already conscious that my knowledge is being increased [and perfected] by degree/; and I see nothing to prevent it from thus gradually increas ing to infinity, nor any reason why, after such increase and perfection, I should not be able thereby to acquire all the other perfections of tlie Divine nature"; nor, in fine, why the power I possess of acquiring those perfections, if it really now exist in me, should n o t he sufficient to produce (he ideas of them. Yet, on looking mere closely into the matter, I discover that this cannot be ; for, in the first place, although it were true that my knowledge daily acquired new degrees of perfection, and although thai were potentially in my nature much that was not as yet i actually in it, still all these excellences make not the j slightest approach to thc idea I have of the Deity, in whom j there is no perfection merely potentially [but all' actually] 'existent; for it is even an unmisfakeablc token of imp-'r- j fection in my knowledge, that it, is augmented by degrees. Further, although my knowledge increase more' and more, nevertheless I am not, therefore, induced to think that it will over be actually infinite, sinco it can never reach that point beyond which it shall be incapable of further increase. But. I conceive God as actually infinite BO that nothing can he added to his perfection. ' And, in fine, I readily perceive that the objective being of' an 123 MEDITATION III. idea cannot be produced by a being that is merely potentially existent, which, properly speaking, is nothing, but only by a being existing formally or actually. And, truly, I see nothing in all that I have now said wliich it is not easy for any one, who shall carefully con sider it, to discern by thc natural light ; but when I allow my attention in some degree to relax, the vision of my mind being obscured, and, as it were, blinded by thc images of ¦sensible objects, I do not readily remember the reason why the idea of a being more perfect than myself, must of necessity have, proceeded from a being in reality moro perfect. On this account I am here desirous to inquire further, whether I, who possess this idea of God, could exist supposing there were no God. And I ask, from whom could I, in that case, derive my existence ? Per haps from myself, or from my parents, or from some other causes less perfect than God ; for anything more perfect, or even equal to God, cannot be thought or imagined. | But if I [were independent of every other existence, and] ' were myself thc author of my being, I should doubt of ' nothing, I should desire nothing, and, in fine, no perfection i would be awanting to me; for I should have bestowed ' upon myself every perfection of which I possess the idea, and I should thus be God. And it must not be imagined that what is now wanting to me is perhaps of more difficult acquisition than that of which I am already possessed ; for, on the contrary, it is quite manifest that it was a matter of much higher difficulty that I, a thinking being, should arise from nothing, than it would be for me to acquire the knowledge of many things of which I am ignorant, and wliich are merely thc accidents of a thinking substance; and ccrlainly, i IT possessed of myself the greater perfection ol which I have now spoken, [in other words, if I were the author of my own existence], T would not at bast have denied to myself things that may bo more easily obtained, [as that infinite variety of knowledge of which OF GOD : THAT HE EXISTS. 120 I am at present destitute]. I could not, indeed, have de nied to myself any property which I perceive is contained in the idea of God, because there is none of these that seems to mc to be more difficult to make or acquire ; and if there were any that should happen to be more difficult to acquire, they would certainly appear so to me (sup posing that I myself were the source of the other things I possess), because 1 .should discover in them a limit to my power. And though I were to suppose that I always was as I now am, I should not, on this ground, escape the. force of these reasonings, since it, would not. follow, even on this supposition, that no author of my existence needed to be nought after. For the whole time of my lite may be divided into an infinity of parts, each of which is in no way dependent on any other ; and, accordingly, because I was in existence a short time ago, it does not follow that I must now exist, unless in this moment some cause create me anew as it were, — that is, conserve me. In truth, it is perfectly clear and evident to all who will attentively consider the nature of duration, that the conservation of a substance, in each moment of its dura tion, requires the same power and act that, would be necessary to create it, supposing it were not j-et in exist ence ; so that it is manifestly a dictate of the natural light that conservation and creation differ merely in respect of our mode of thinking [and not in reality]- All that is here required, therefore, is that I interrogate myself to discover whether I possess any power by means of which I can bring it about that I, who now am, shall exist a moment afterwards : for, since I am merely a thinking thing (or since, at least, (be precise quesiion, in the mean time, is only of that part of myself), if such a power re sided in me, I should, without doubt, be coii.-clnus of it but I am conscious of no such power, and therein. ! manifestly know that 1 am dependent upon some Wine different from myself 130 MEDITATION III But perhaps the being upon whom I am dependent, is not God, and I have been produced either by my parents, or by somo causes less perfect than Dcily. This cannot be : for, as I before said, it is perfectly evident that there must at least be as much reality in the cause as in its effect ; and accordingly, since I am a thinking thing, and possess in myself an idea of God, whatever in the end be the cause of my existence, it must of necessity be admitted that il is likewise a thinking being, and (hat it -possesses in itself the idea and all tho perfections I attri bute to Deity. Then it may again be inquired whether (his cause, owes its origin and existence to itself, or to sonic other cause, for if it lie self-existent, if follows, from what I havo before laid down, that this cause is God ; for, since it possesses the perfection of self-existence, it must likewise, without doubt, have the power of actually possess ing ever}- pcrfceiion of wliich it has thc idea,- — in other words, all the perfections 1 conceive to belong to God. But if it owe its existence to another cause than itself, wC de mand again, for a similar reason, whether this second cause exists of itself or through some other, until, from stage to stage, we at length arrive at an ultimate cause, which will be God. And it is quite manifest that in this matter there can be no infinite regress of ca uses, seeing that the question raised respects not so much the cause which once produced me, as that by which I am at this present moment conserved. Nor can it he supposed that several causes concurred in my production, and that from one I received the idea of one of the perfections I attribute to Deity, and from another the idea of some other, and thus that all those perfections are indeed found somewhere in the universe, but do not all exist together in a single being who is God; for, on tlie contrary, the unity, the simplicity or inseparability of all tho properties of Deity, is one of the chief perfection;! I conceive him to possess; and tho idea of this unitj' of all the perfections of Deity could certainly not bo put into O* GOD : inAT HE EXISTS. V-)\ my mind by any cause from which 1 did not likewise receive the ideas of all the other perfections ; for no power could enable me to embrace them in an inseparable, unity, without at tho same time giving me the knowledge of what they were [and of their existence in a particular mode]. Finally, with regard to my parents [from whom it appears I sprung], although all that I believed respecting them be true, it does not, nevertheless, follow that I am conserved by them, or even that I was produced by them, in so far as I am a thinking being. All that, at the most, thcy contributcd to my origin was the giving of certain dis positions (modifications) to thc. mailer in which 1 h.iye hitherto judged thai. I or my mind, which is what alone f now consider to bo myself, is enclosed ; and thus there can here be no difficulty with respect to them, and it is absolutely necessary to conclude from this alone that I am, and pcA sess the idea of a being absolutely perfect, that is, of God, that his existence is most clearly demonstrated. 'Mere remains only the inquiry as to the way in which I received this idea from God ; for I have not drawn it from the senses, nor is it even presented to me unexpectedly, as is usual with the ideas of sensible, objects, when these are presented or appear to be presented to the externa! organs of the senses; it is not even a pure production or fiction of my mind, for it is not in my power to take from or add to it ; and consequently there but remains the alter native that it is innate, in the same way as is the idea of myself. And, in truth, it is not to be wondered at that G oil, at my creation, implanted this idea in me, that it might serve, as it were, for the mark of the workman impressed on his work ; and it is not also necessary that, tlie mark should be something different from the work itself; but considering only that God is my creator, it is highly probable that he in some way fashioned mc after his own image and like ness, and that I perceive this likeness, in which is contained tho idea of God, by the same faculty by which I apprehend 132 MEDITATION HI. myself,— ln other words, when I make myself the object of reflection, I not only find that I am an incomplete, Umpertect] and dependent being, and one who unceasingly aspires after something better and greater than he is ; but, at the same time, I am assured likewise that he upon whom t am dependent possesses in himself all the goods after which I aspire, [and the ideas of which I find in my mind], and that not merely indefinitely and potentially, but infinitely and actually, and that he is thus God. And the whole force of the argument of wliich I have here availed myself to establish the existence of God, consists in tins, that I perceive I could not possibly be of such a nature as I am, and yet have in my mind the idea of a God, if God did not in reality exist,— this same God, I saj-, whose idea is in my mind— that is, a being who possesses all those lofty perfections, of wliich the°mind may have some slight conception, without, however, being able fully to comprehend them,— and who is wholly su perior to all defect, [and has nothing that marks huper- icctiou] « hence, it is sufficiently manifest that he cannot be a deceiver, since it is a dictate of thc natural light that all fraud and deception spring from some defect. But before I examine this with more attention, and pass on to the consideration of other truths that may be evolved out of it. I think it eroper to remain here for some time in tlie contemplation of God himself— that I may ponder at leisure his niarvellcus attributes— and behold, admire, and adore the beauty of this light so unspeakably great, as far, at least, as the strength of my mind, which is to some de gree dazzled by the sight, will permit. For just as we learn by faith that the supreme felicity of another life consists in the contemplation of the Divine majesty alone, so even now we learn from experience that a. like meditation, though incomparably less perfect, is the source of the highest satisfaction of which wc are susceptible in this life. OP THDTH AND EREOB. 133 MEDITATION IV. OC TltUTIi AMI KKKOK. I have been habituated these bygone davs to detach mv mind from the senses, and I have accurately observed, thai there is exceedingly little which is known Villi certainty respecting corporeal objects —that we know much more of the human mind, and still more of God him.-oif. 1 nm (bus able now without difficulty to abstract my mind from the contemplation of [sensible or] imaginable objects, and apply it to tlin.se which, as disengaged from all matter, arc purely intelligible. And certainly the idea 1 have oi the human mind in so far as it is a thinking thing.. a:„] not extended in length, breadth, and depth, and partici pating in none of thc properties of body, is incompar ably more distinct than the idea of any corporeal 0lrWu • and when I consider that 1 doubt, in other words, that j am an incomplete and dependent being, the idea of c complete and independent being, that is to sav of God', occurs to my mind with so much clearness and disiinctne--' s foun .! in ms —and from the fact alone that this idea L , that I who possess it exist, the conclusions that God exists', and that my own existence, each moment of it., continuance' is absolutely dependent upon him, arc so manifest,— as to lead me to believe it impossible that the h„„;an mind can know anything with more clearness and e.erliinde. And now I seem to discover a paih that will conduct us )',-,,,„ the contemplation of thc (rue God, in whom arc contain..,! / 3-1 MEDITATION IV. all the treasures of science and wisdom, to the knowledge of the other tilings in the universe. For, in the first place, I discover that it is impossible for him ever to deceive me, for in all fraud and deceit there is a certain imperfection: and although it may seem that thc ability to deceive is a mark of subtlety or power, yet the will testifies without doubt of malice and weakness; and such, accordingly, cannot be found in God. In the next place, I am conscious that I possess a. certain faculty ol judging [or discerning truth from error], which I doubtless received from God, along villi whatever else is mine; and since it. is impossible that be should will to deceive mc, it is likewise certain that ho has not given mc a faculty that will ever lead me into error, provided I use it aright. And there would remain no doubt on this head, did it not seem to follow from this, that I can never therefore be deceived; for if all I possess be from God, and if he planted in me no faculty that is deceitful, it seems to follow that I can never fall into error. Accordingly, it is true that when I think only of God (when 1 look upon myself as coming from God, Fr.), and turn wholly to him, I discover [in myself] no cause of error or falsity : but immediately thereafter, recurring to myself, experience assures me that I am nevertheless subject to innumerable errors. "When I come to inquire into the cause of these, I observe that there is not only present to my consciousness a real and positive idea of find, or ol a being .supremely perfect, but also, so io speak, a certain negative idea of nothing, — in oilier words, of thai which is at an infinite distance from every smt of perfection, and that I am, as it wore, a mean bc« (ween God and nothing, or placed in such a way between absolute existence and non-existence, that there is in trutli nothing in me to lead me into error, in so far as an absolute being is my creator ; but that, on the other hand, as I thus likewise, participate, in some degree of nothing or of non- OP TliUTH AND EllI'.OK. 13C being, in other words, as I am not myself the supreme Being, and as I am wanting in many perfections, it is not surprising I should fall into error. And I hence, discern that error, so far as error is not something real, which depends for its existence on God, but is simply defect ; and therefore that, in order to fall into it, it is not neces sary God should have given mc a f icnllv expressly f,,r this cud, but that my being deceived arises fro,,, thc circumstance th at the. power which God 1ms given in c o I discerning trill h from error is not infinite. Nevertheless this is not y,'t quite satisfactory ; for error is not a pure negation, [in oilier words, it is not thc simple deficiency or want of some, knowledge wliich is not due], but thc privation or want of some knowledge which it would seem I ought to possess. But, on considering the nature of God, it seems impossible that he should 'nave planted in his creature any faculty not perfect in its kind, that is, wanting in some perfection due. to it : fin- if it be true, that in proportion to tlie skill ol the maker the per fection of his work is greater, what thing can have been produced by the supreme Creator of the universe that is not absolutely perfect in all its parts? Ami a.s-uredly there is no doubt that God could have created me such as that I should never be deceived ; it is certain, likewise, that he always wills what is best: is it better, then, that I should be capable of being deceived than- that I should not? Considering this more a I tenlively, the first thing i.hat oc curs to me is the. reflection that, 1 must not bo surpri.-, d if I am not always capable, of comprehending (he reasons y by God acts as he does; nor must I doubt, of his existence be cause 1 find, perhaps, that (here, are. several oliicr (bines besides the present respecting which 1 understand neither why nor how they were created by him ; for, knowing al ready that my nature is extremely weak and limited, and that . the nnturo of God, on the other hand, is immense, ineom- I B6 MEDITATION- IV. prchensiblc, and infinii-n T i '» <^7S th..;; zz i riSr^1' 'l'.-over the [impenetrable] ends of Deity 7 It further occurs to me that we must not consider onlv -e creature apart fi,„n the others, if we wish to ,1 ,2 c.catuus together; lor lJlc ,:llnc ob; , t, • -th some show of reason, be deemed highly m^S it were il!o the world, may for all tliafbe the o of evervth 71 S' ' WaS m7 PllrP0Se fo doubt cyeiythmg, I only as yet know with certainty my own existence and that of God, nevertheless, \ ¦ ZZZZZ Z iUllnitC ^^ °f Dd^ 1 «™ot deny that he may have produced many other objects or t least that he is able to produce them, so that iZl z:zzz::z"ic^n^^^^^^ Whereupon, ,-egarding myself more closely, and con- -Jcrmg wfou my errors are (which alone testify to the c -tencc ot impcribetion in n,e), I observe that these '1 P-iu on the concurrence, of two causes, vis., the faculty " ^""-'-hich I possess, an(l (1,at of election i m power of ,,, ehoiec,-in other words, the under- 3fi7">f^ "--,11. Kor by Ihe understanding alone , [net her affirm ,„„- d.eny anything, but] merely „„' firchcud (y,m.,/w) l]i0 ilIcas ,0ff!ll,]inK w]ildi / ' 0l'"Vl J!;'Ament; nor is any error, properly so called, foium in „, thus accurately taken. And although there arc pernaps innumerable, objects in the world of which' ' lmn' »" """i i" my understanding, i|. ,,,„„,„, on l||)U OF TUCTII AND KUUOU, 137 account, be said that I am deprived of those ideas [as of something that is due to my nature], but simplv that i do not. possess then,, because, in truth, there, is no'-round to prove that Deity ought to have endowed ,„e with a larger faculty of cognition than he has actually bestowed upon me ; and however skilful a workman I si,pp,,s,. f h„ to be, I have no reason, on that account, to think that it was obligatory on him to give to each of his works all the perfections be is able to bestow upon some. Nor, moreover. can I complain that God has not given me freedom of choice, or a will sufficiently ample, and perfect, since, i„ truth, I am conscious of will so ample and extended as to be superior to all limits. And what appears to me. here, to be, | highly remarkable is that, of all the other properties I j possess, there is none so great and perfect as thai I do not i clearly discern it could be still greater and more perfect. For, to take an example, if I consider the faculty of under standing which I possess, I find that it is of very small extent, and greatly limited, and at the same timoA form the idea of another faculty of thc same, nature, much more ample and even infinite ; and seeing that I can frame the idea of it, I discover, from this circ.un.-lnr.eo alone, that it pertains to the nature of God. In the same way' if I examine thc faculty of memory or imagination, or an other faculty I possess, I fi„d n0ne that A uot ,n'.:,]| !n^j circumscribed, and in God immense [and infinit.- 1 j( is the faculty of will only, or freedom efi choice which I experience to be so great, that I am unable to creche the ilea of another that shall be. more, ample :^l extended • so that it is chiefly my will which leads me to discern that 1 bear a certain image and similitude of Deity ]-,„. nl Ihough the faculty of will is incomparably ..,,.'.„„ in f,'(„, than in myself, as well in respect of th," kmnGe.b-o -v"' power that are conjoined with il, and lh.il render it Mncmer and more efficacious, as in respect of the object. sinee'V, luin it extends lo a greater number of thmeA, \t ,|()l,s llof I3.S MEDITATION IV. nevertheless, appear to me greater, considered in itself formally and precisely : for the power of will consists only in this, that we are able to do or not to do the same thing (that is, to affirm or deny, to pursue or shun it), or rather in this alone, that in affirming or denying, pursuing or shun ning, what is proposed to us by the understanding, wc so act that we arc not conscious of being determined to a par ticular action by any external force. For, to Ihe possession of freedom, it is not necessary that I be alike indifferent towards each of two contraries ; but, on the contrary, the more. 1 am inclined towards the one, whether because I clearly know that in it Ibero is the reason of truth and goodness, or because God thus internally disposes my thought, the more freely do I choose and embrace it; and assuredly divine grace and natural knowledge, very far from . diminishing liberty, rather augment and fortify it. But the indifference of which I am conscious when I am not im pelled to one side rather than to another for want of a reason, is the lowest grade of liberty, and manifests defect or nega tion oi knowledge, rather than perfection of will ; for if I always clearly knew what, was true and good, I should never have any difficulty in determining what judgment 1 ought to come to, and what choice I ought to make, and I should thus be entirely free without ever being indifferent. From all this I discover, however, that neither the power of willing, wliich I have received from God, is of itself the source of my errors, for it is exceedingly ample aud perfect in its kind ; nor even the power of under standing, for as I conceive no object unless h}' means of the faculty that God bestowed upon me, all that I conceive is doubtless rigidly conceived by me, and it is impossible for mc to be deceived in it. "Whence, then, spring my errors? They arise from this cause alone, that I do not restrain the will, which is of much wider range than the understanding, within the same limits, but extend it even to things I do not understand, OF XliCTH AKD ERKOK. 130 and as the will is of itself indifferent to such, it readily falls into error and sin by choosing the false in room of the true, and evil instead of good. For example, wheiillafely considered whether aught really existed in the world, and found that because I considered this question, it very manifestly followed that I myself existed, 1 could not but judge that what I so clearly conceived w:i< true, not that I was forced lo this judgment .by any exlcrnal cause, but simply because great clearness of the. understand- in"- was .succeeded by strong inclination in the will; ami 1 believed this the more freely and spoulaueoii.-ly in propor tion as I was less indifferent with respect to it. lint n.,w I not only know thuf 1 exist, in so far as 1 am a. thinking being. but there is likewise presented to my mind a certain idea of corporeal nature ; hence I am in doubt as to whether the thinking nature which is in me, or rather which I myself am, is different from that corporeal nature, or whether both are merely one and the same thing, and I here suppose that I am as yet ignorant of any reason that would deter mine me to adopt the one belief in preference to the other: whence it happens that it is a matter ol perfect, lndil- feroncc to me which of the. two suppositions I affirm or deny, or whether I form any judgment at all in the matter. This indifference, moreover, extends not only to things of wliich the understanding lias no knowledge at all, but in general also to all those which it does not discover with perfect clearness at. the moment the will is deliberating upon them ; for, however' probable thc conjectures may be that dispose me to form a judgment in a particular matter, thc simple knowledge, that these are merely conjectures, and not certain and indubitable reasons, is sufficient to lead mc to form one that is directly the opposite. Of this I lately had abundant experience, when I laid aside as false all that I had before held for true, on the single "round that I could in some degree doubt of it. But if O s, I abstain from judging of a thing when I do not conoid w> 1 10 MEDITATION IT. it with sufficient clearness and distinctness, it is plain that 1 act rightly, and am not deceived ; but if I resolve to deny or alarm, I then do not make a right use of my free will ; and if I affirm what is false, it is evident that I am deceived • moreover, even although I judge according to truth, 1 stumble upon it by chance, and do not therefore escape the imputation of a wrong use of my freedom; for it is a dictate of tho natural hght, that the knowledge of tho understanding ought always to precede the determination of the will. And it is this wrong use of the freedom of the will in which is found the privation that constitutes the form of error. Privation. I say, is found in tho act, in so far as it proceeds from myself, but it does not exist in the faculty which I received from God, nor even in the act, in so tar as it depends on him ; for 1 have assuredly no reason to complain that God has not given me a greater power of intelligence or more perfect natural light than he has actually bestowed, since it is of the nature of a finite understanding not to comprehend many things, and of the nature of a created understanding to be finite"; on tho con trary, I have every reason to render thanks to God, who owed me nothing, for having given me all the perfections I possess, and I should be far from thinking that ho has unjustly deprived me of, or kept back, the other perfections which lie has not bestowed upon me. ^ I have no reason, moreover, to complain because he has given me a will more ample than my understanding, since, as the will consists only of a single element, and that indi visible, it would appear (bat this faculty is of such a nature that nothing could be taken from it [without destroying it] ; and certainly, the more extensive it is, the more cause I have to (hank the goodness of him who bestowed it upon me. And, finally, I ought not also to complain that God eoiicur.s with mc in forming the acts of this will, or the judgments in which I am deciived, because those acts are OF TU0TH AND EltKOT 14 1 wholly true and good, in so far as they depend on God; and the ability to form them is a higher degree of perfection in my nature than the want of it would be. "With rc-ard to privation, in which alone consists thc formal reason of error and sin, this does not require the concurrence of Deity, because it is not a thing [or existence], and if it be referred to God as to its cause, it ought not to be called privation, but negation, [according to the caVfofieatior- of these words in the schools.] Bor in truth it is no impei- ( fcclion ill Deity that he has accorded to me thc power ,,!" I giving or withholding my assent from certain thing.s of which he has not put a clear and distinct knowledge h. n.v i understanding; but it is doubtless an imperfection in me s that I do not use my freedom aright, and readily -ive m- ', judgment on matters which I onlyAbscurely and confused! y conceive. I perceive, nevertheless, that it. was easy for Dcily so to liave constituted me as that I should never be ibA-eived although I still remained free and postered of a limited knowledge, viz, by implanting in my understandi:- a char and distinct knowledge of all the objects respcctiimAvbieh I should ever have to deliberate ; or simply by po clAeniy en graving on my memory the resolution to" bulge of notliir- without previously possessing a clear and distinct eon, option of it, that I should never forget it. And I easily understand that, in so far as I consider myself as a .single whole, wilhoic reference to any other being in thc universe, I should l,,v, been much more perfect than I now am, had Deity created me superior to error; but I cannot therefore deny that it is not somehow a grealcrperfeeiion in thc univeAe diet, certain of ils parts arc not exempt from defect, as other-, are, than if they were all perfectly alike. And I have no right to complain because Cod, who placed me in the world, was not. willing (hat I .should sust ; i„ that character which of all others is the chief and i,„s, perfect ; I have even good reason to ,,,,„.,;„ s.uisflcd ,,,,, x 11-2 MEDITATION IV. |S£w=.ESSS has t , If! tel'? regardi"S Which * Ca" d««boratc, i firn 77 7 my P°Wel' tLe other "eans, which is I J m / to retain the resolution never to judge where tS istioclea,^ ^' y"«aon (he same thought, I can nevertheless, by m: and olt-repeated meditation, impress it so ¦ i: T lnCm0i'y l',al J Sl':,U —r fiiil to recollect "qiiin, u, aiul 1 can acquire in this way (he habitude o not. erring- •,,,,! „; ¦. • • , ' lll"h. -"I'l since it is in be hi" snnerinr £™r l,;° lnf r!u,d ^^-uon or m;:;ir sst ,1 deem hat I have not gained little by this day's nieihlation, in having discovered the source of error and exffi' dneT'io"17 Z ^ "i "° 0t,KT thnn whnt Z '^ »•" ' ' f7 aS °Z aS X *> ^truin my will within the ¦Z ZZ'' ??' tUnt " f0™8 "° J-lg-ent except v ailfl obscure] (£) ^idi fop t future I snail give diligent heed. i/B- IKE ESSENCE, OP MATERIAL TH1XCS. 143 MEDITATION V. Cr THE ESSENCE OF HATI'tltAE TIllXOS ; AND, AGAIN, 01- C!OI> 1 THAT III-, EXISTS. Sevekat, other questions remain for consideration respect ing the attributes of God and my own nature or mind. I v\ill, however, on some other occasion perhaps resume the investigation of these. Meanwhile, as I have dbco<. ered what must be done and what avoided fo arrive at the knowledge of truth, what I have chiefly to do is to c.-say lo emerge from the state of doubt in which I have for some. time been, and to discover whether anything can be known with certainty regarding materia! objects. But before considering whether such objects as I conceiie exist with out me, I must examine their ide.is in so far as these arc to be found in my consciousness, and discover which of them are distinct and which confused. In the first place, I distinctly imagine that quantity wliich the philosophers commonly call continuous, or the extension in length, breadth, and depth that is in this quantity, or rather in the object to which it is attributed. Further, I can enumerate in it many diverse parls. and at tribute to each ol these all sorts of sizes, figures, situations, and local motions ; and, in fine, I can assign to each of tho*e motions all degrees of duration. And I not only distinctly know these things when I thus consider them in general'; but besides, by a little attention 'A discover inntmierublc particulars respecting figures, numbers, motion, and the like, which aro so evidently true, and so accordant with 14-1 MEDITATION V. my nature, that when I now discover them I do not so much appear to learn anything new, as to call to remem brance what I before knew, or for the first time to remark what was before in my mind, but to which I had not hitherto directed my attention. And what I here find of most importance is, that I discover in my mind innumer able ideas of certain objects, which cannot be esteemed pure negations, although perhaps they possess no reality beyond my thought, and which arc not framed by me though it may be in my power to think, or not to think them, but possess true and immutable natures of their own. As, for example, when I imagine a. triangle, although there is not perhaps and never was in any place in the universe apart from my thought one such figure, it remains true nevertheless that this figure possesses a certain determinate nature, form, or essence, which is immutable and eternal, and not framed by me, nor in any degree dependent on my thought ; as appears from the circumstance, that diverse properties of the. triangle may be demonstrated, viz., that its three angles arc equal to two right, that its greatest side is subtended by ils greatest angle, and the like, which, whether I w'!l or not, I now clearly discern to belong to it, although before I did not at all think of them, when, for the first time, I imagined a triangle, and which accordingly cannot lie. said to have been invented by me. Nor is it a valid objection to allege, that perhaps this idea of a triangle, came, into my mind by thc medium of the senses, throiieli ni)' having seen bodies of a triangular figure; for I am able to form in thought an innumerable viiriety of figures with regard to which it cannot be supposed that thev were ever objects ol sense, and I can nevertheless demonstrate diverse properties of their nature no less than ot the, triangle, all of which are assuredly true since I clearly c<,n<\.',vc. them : and (bey are therefore something, and no! mere negations ; for it i; highly evident that all that is true is .soiuelhing, [(ruth being idenlical will) existence] ; OF GOD: THAT HE EXISTS. Me and I have already fully shown the truth of the principle, that whatever is clearly and distinctly known is true. And although this had not been demonstrated, yet the nature of my mind is such as to compel me to assent to what I clearly conceive while I so conceive it; and I re collect that even when I still strongly adhered to the objects of sense, I reckoned among the number of the most eeiiaiu truths those I clearly conceived relating to figures, numbers, and other mutters that pertain to arithmetic and geometry, and in general to the pure mathematics. But now if because I can draw from my thought, the idea of an object, it follows that all I clearly and distinctly apprehend to pertain to this object, does in truth belong to it, may I not from this derive an argument for the exist ence of God? It is certain that I no less find the idea of a God in my consciousness, that is, the idea of a being supremely perfect, than that of any figure or number whatever : and I know with not le.s.s clearness and dis tinctness that an [actual and] eternal existence pertains to his nature than that all which is demonstrable of any figure or number really belongs to the nature of that. fin-urc or number ; and, therefore, although all the conclu sions of the preceding Meditations were false, the cxi.-'ence of God w.guld pass with mc for a truth at least as cer tain as I ever judged any truth of mathematics to be. although indeed such a doctrine may at first sight appear lo contain more sophistry than truth. For, as I have been accustomed in every oilier matter to distinguish beliweu existence, and essence, I easily believe that the existence can bo separated from the essenco ol God, and that dins God may be conceived as not actually existing. But, nevertheless, when I think of it more ultenib ely, it appears that (he cxislcnce can no more lie separated from the essence of God, thnn (he. idea of a mountain Com thai ,-i a valley, or the. equality ol its three angles 10 two light angles, from the essence, of a [rectilineal] triangle ; so ihat 1-tG MEDITATION V. it is not less impossible to conceive a God, that is, a bein* supremely perfect, to whom existence is awanting, or who is devoid of a certain perfection, than to conceive a moun tain without a valley. But, though, in truth, I cannot conceive a God unless as existing, anymore than I can a mountain without a. valley, yet, just as it does not follow that there is any mountain in the world merely because I conceive a mountain with a valley, so likewise, though I conceive God as existing; it does not, seem to follow on that account that God exists ; for my (bought i, eposes no necessity oil things; and as I may imagine a. winged horse, though there be none such, so 1 could perhaps attribute existence to God, though no God existed. Hut the cases arc not analogous, ancfa fallacy lurks under the semblance of this objection : for because I cannot conceive a mountain without a valley, it does not follow that there is any mountain or valley in existence, but simply that the mountain or valley, whethef they do or do not exist, aro inseparable from each other ; whereas, on the other hand, because I cannot conceive God unless as existing, it follows that existence is insepar able from him, and therefore that he really exists : not that this is brought about by my thought, or that it im poses any necessity on things, but, on the contrary, the necessity which lies in the thing itself, that is, the necessity of the existence of God, determines me to think in this way : for it is not in my power to conceive a God without existence, that is, .-, being supremely perfect, and yet devoid of an absolute perfection, as 1 am free to imagine a horse with or without wings. Nor must it be alleged here as an objection, that it is in truth necessary to admit that God exists, after bavin". supposed him to possess all perfections, since existence is one of them, but, that my original supposition was not necessary; juf-t. as it is not necessary to think that all quadriialcral figures can be inscribed in the circle, since, OE GOD : THAT HE EXISTS. 1-17 if I supposed this, I should be constrained to admit that' the rhombus, being a figure of four sides, can be therein inscribed, which, however, is manifestly false. This ob jection is, I say, incompetent ; for although it may not be necessary that, I shall at any time entertain the notion of Deity, yet each time I happen to think of a first and sovereign being, and to draw, so to speak, the idea of him from the store-house of the, mind, I am necessitated to attri bute to him all kinds ol perfections, though 1 may not then enumerate them all, nor think of each of then, in particular. And this necessity is sufficient, as soon as I di-vovor lhat existence is a perfection, lo cause me to infer the e.\blei,i-e of this first and sovereign being : just as it is not necessary that I should ever imagine any triangle, but whenever I am desirous of considering a rectilineal figure composed of only three angles, it is absolutely necessary to attribute those properties to it from which it is correctly inferred that its three angles are not greater than two right angles, although perhaps I may not then advert to this relation in particular. But when I consider what figures are capable of being inscribed in the circle, it is by no means necessary to bold that all quadrilateral figures are of ibis number; on the contrary, I cannot even imagine such to be the case, so long as- I shall be unwilling to accept in thought aught that I do not clearly and distinctly 'con ceive : and consequently there is a vast difference between false suppositions, as is the one in question, and the true ideas that were born with me, lho first and chief of which is the idcaof God. Forindeed I discern on many grounds that this idea is not. factitious, depending simply on my thought, but that it is the representation of a true and immutable nature: in the first place, because I can eonech e. no other being, except God, to whose essence existence [necessarily] pertains ; in the second, because it is impossible to con ceive two or more gods of this kind ; and if, being sup posed that one such God exists, I clearly see that lie must US MEDITATION V. Arr,!SAZAr":"u'T ", -m »¦•« <° - «««»., , al777:^^^°'1 tZB?Z^^^7^ ,o J tbs manner, some, indeed, are obvious cose nd c" V °- '^ W °^ disc™d "tar Md . aiefm »>™t,gation ; nevertheless, after thev -use of a ri It ', • ' f°r °XilmPle' to l:,ke ^e fi- t a fi t ;i° 'in,1S,°' altl'°ngh U is "ot so ",,„!. '-t at firat that the square of the base is equal to fhe to tie gicate.,t angle; nevertheless, after it is once AAnre ^zzizzzjzr^^^7z Z °"M SldeS by the continual presence of LZZds mo e e lZ th ^ S' F°r " thel'° a">- *™* no c c eai than the existence of a Supreme Being or of et Zo S 1S t0 '1IS °8SOnoe d0ne tlwt [neccssa y and t nal] existence pertains f And although the rHi eon -Ptimi of tins truth has cost me muclAAlose think^, nev te less at present I feel not only as assured of it Z tZoZZZ 7S\ cnrtainj but I remnrk fBrt,»« <^ n i -, h "I f!'UtbS " S° flbs°lutcI^ pendent ' >h that v ithout tins knowledge it is impossible ever to know anything perfectly. For although I am of such a nature as to be unable, a after TC"Sa 77 den'' nnd distinot apprehension of mt.ero resist the conviction of its truth yet because myeonstituuon is also such as to incapacitate me from k-!»^ my mmd continually fixed on (he same object OF GOD : THAT HE EXISTS. 140 and as I frequently recollect a past, judgment without at the same tunc being able to recall the grounds of it it may happen meanwhile that other reasons arc presented to mc which would readily cause mc to change my opinion, if I did not know that God existed ; and thus I should po»e« no true and certain knowledge, but merely v.-,,., and vacillating opinions. Thus, for example, when I Aon -ide,- the nature of the [rectilineal] triangle, it most clearly appears to me, who have been instructed in the orineipies of geometry, that its three angles are equal to two rhd,t angles, and I find it impossible to believe othcrwbe, while I apply my mind to thc demonstration ; but as soon 7[ cense from attending to Ihe process ,.,r proof, ulthotmh I still remember that I had a clear comprehension of it? vet I may readily come to doubt of fhe (ruth demonstrated', if I do not know that there is a God : for I may persuade myself that I have been so constituted, by nAture as to be sometimes deceived, even in matter, Ahich I think I apprehend with the greatest evidence and certitude, espe cially when I recollect that I frequently considered many things to be true and certain which other reasons after wards constrained me to reckon as wholly false. But after I have discovered (hat God exist ;, soofo" I abo at the same time observed that all things depend cVhim. and that he is no deceiver, and thence hrferred that all which I clearly and distinctly perceive is of necessity t-,,c • although I no longer attend to the grounds of a jmbcueni' no opposite reason can be alleged sufficient to ieaiAme to' doubt of its truth, provided only I remember that I o,„v possessed a clear and distinct comprehension of b "\fo, knowledge of it thus becomes true and certain. -Ind this same knowledge extends likewise to whatever I remember to have formerly demonstrated, as the truths of -vomotry and the. like : for what can be alleged against them to lead me to doubt of them ? Will it be that my nature is such that I may be frequently deceived ? Ibit'l alreadv know 150 MEDITATION V. that I cannot be deceived in judgments of the grounds of which I possess a clear knowledge. Will it be that I for merly deemed things to be true and certain which I after- vvnrds discovered to be false? But I had no clear and ihsf.net knowledge of any of those things, and, being as vet ignorant of the rule by which I am assured of thc truth of a judgment, I was led to give my assent to them on grounds which I afterwards discovered were less strong than at the time 1 imagined them to be. What further ofjcclion, then, is there? Will it be said that perhaps I •'un dreaming (an objeelion I lately myself raised), or that nil the thoughts of which I am now conscious havo no morn truth thai, Ihe reveries of my. dreams? But although, in truth, I should be dreaming, the rule still holds that°a]l which is clearly presented to my intellect is indisputably true. J - And thus I very clearly see that the certitude and truth of all science depends on the knowledge alone of the true God, insomuch that, before I know him, I could have no perfect knowledge of any other thing. And now that I know him, I possess the means of acquiring a perfect knowledge respecting innumerable matters, as well relative to God himself and other intellectual objects as to cor poreal nature, in so far as it is the object of pure mathe matics [which do not consider whether it exists or not]. OF THE EXISTENCE OF MATE1UAL THINGS. 151 MEDITATION VI. OF THE EXISTENCE OP MATERIAL TI1IXOS, AMI Of THE ItEAI, distinction Between the bund ami i-.ohy of max. There now only remains the inquiry as to whether material things exist. With regard to this question, I at least know with certainty that such things may exist, in as far as they constitute the object of the pure mathe matics, since, regarding them in this aspect, I can v conceive them clearly and distinctly. For there can be no doubt that God possesses the power of producing all the objects I am able distinctly to conceive, and I never considered anything impossible to him, unless when I experienced a contradiction in the attempt fo conceive it aright. Further, the faculty of imagination wliich I pos sess, and of which I am conscious that I make use when I apply myself to tlie consideration of material tilings, is sufficient to persuade me of their existence : for, whim I attentively consider what imagination is, I find that it is simply a certain application of 'the cognitive faculty (facultas cognoscitiva) to a body which is immediately pre sent to it, and which therefore exists. And to render this quite clear, I remark, in Ihe first place, the difference that subsists between imagination and pure intellection [or conception], For example, when I imagine a triangle I not only conceive, (intdhgo) that it is a figure comprehended by three lines, but at the same time also I look upon (intueor) these three lines as present by the power and internal application of my mind (ode 1.52 meditation vi. menus), and this is what I call imagining. But if I desire to think of a chiliogon, I indeed rightly conceive that it is a figure composed of a thousand sides, as easily as I con ceive that a triangle is a figure composed of only three sides; but I cannot, imagine the thousand sides of a chiliogon as I do the three shies or a triangle, nor, so to speak" view then, as present [with tho eyes 0r my mind]. And al though, in accordance with the habit I have or always imagining somelliing when I think of corporeal things, it may happen lh.it, in conceiving a chiliogon, 1 confusedly represent some figure to myself, yet it is quite evident (lint this is not a, chiliogon, sinee if in no wise differs from that which 1 would represent to myself, if 1 were to think of a niyriogon, or any other figure of many sides ; nor would this representation be of any use iu discovering and unfolding the properties that constitute the difference between a chiliogon and other polygons. But if the question turns on a pentagon, it is quite true that I can conceive its figure, as well as that of a chiliogon, with out the aid of imagination; but I can likewise imagine it by applying the attention of my mind to its five sides, ami at the same time to the area which they contain. Thus I observe that a special effort of mind is necessary to the act of imagination, which is not required to conceiving or understanding (ad intclligendum);- and this special exertion of mind clearly shows tho difference between imagination and pure .intellection (iiuagimitio el. inklleclio jmra). I remark, besides, (hat this power of imagination which I possess, in as far as it d, tiers from the power of conceiving, is in no way neces sary to my [nature or] essence, that is, to the essence of my mind ; for although I did not possess it, I should still remain the same that I now am, from which it seems we may conclude that it depends on something different from the mind. And I easily understand that, if some body exists, with wliich my mind is so conjoined and OF THE EXISTENCE OF MATERIAL THINGS. ETC. 153 united as to be able, as it were, to consider it when it chooses, it may thus imagine corporeal objects ; so that this mode of thinking differs from pure intellection only in this respect, that the mind in conceiving turns in some way upon itself, and considers some one of the ideas it possesses within itself; but in imagining it turns towards the body, and contemplates in it some object conformed to the idea which it either of itself conceived or apprehended by sen.-e. I easily undersland, I say, (hat imaginalion may be llius formed, if it is true that there are bodies ; and 'bemuse I find no other obvious mode, of explaining it, I i.honr, . will, probability, conjecture that they exist, but only y, id, prob ability; and although I carefully examine all (him-, nevertheless I do not find (hat, from the distinct ideaA>f corporeal nature I have in my imagination, I can neces sarily infer thc existence of any body. But I am accustomed to imagine many oilier objects besides that corporeal nature wliich is the object of the pure mathematics, as, for example, colours, sounds, tastes. pain, and (he like, although with less distinctness ; and, inasmuch as I perceive these objects much heller by the. senses, through the medium of which and of memory' they seem to have reached thc imagination, I bebeic (hat in order the more advantageously to examine (hem, it is proper I should at (he same time examine what sen'sc- perceptiou is, and inquire whether from those ideas flat are apprehended by this mode of thinking (eonsciousncC ), I cannot obtain a certain proof 0r the existence of eorpo're-1 objects. And, in the first place, I will recall (o my mind the things I have hitherto held as tree, because nerceived bv the senses, and the foundations upon which my beli-f i-i their truth rested; T will, in the second, place, examine Ihe rea sons that afterwards constrained me to doubt ol them ¦ and, finally, I will consider what of them I ought now to believe. 15 1 .MEDITATION VI. Firstly, then, T perceived that I bad a bead, hands, feet, end othci. members composing that body which I con sidered as part, or perhaps even as the whole, of myself. I perceived further, that that body was placed among many others by which it was capable of being affected in diverse ways, both beneficial and hurtful ; and what was beneficial 1 remarked by a certain sensation of pleasure, and what was hurtful by a sensation of pain. And, besides this plea sure, and pam, I was likewise conscious of huno-ei- (hirst ami other appetites, as well as certain corporeal inclinations towards joy, sadness, anger, and similar passions And out oi myself, besides the extension, figure, and motions oi hodies, I hkewise perceived in them hardness, heat, and the other tactiic qualities, and, in addition, light," colours, odours, tastes, and sounds, the variety of which gave me the means of distinguishing the sky, the earth, the sea, a ml gen-rally all the other bodies, from one another. And certainly, considering the ideas of all these qualities, which were presented to my mind, and wliich alone I properly and immediately perceived, it was not without reason that I thought I perceived certain objects wholly different from my thought, namely, bodies from which those ideas pro ceeded ; for I was conscious that the ideas were presented to me without my consent being required, so that, I could not perceive any object, however desirous I might be, unless it were present to fhe organ of sense; ancf it was wholly out. of my power not to perceive it when it was thus- present. And because thc ideas I perceived by the senses were much more lively and clear, and even, in their own way, more distinct than any of those I could or myself frame by meditation, or which I found impressed on my memory, it seemed that they could not have, proceeded from niy-clf and must therefore have been caused in mo by some other objecls : and as 0r Ihose objects I bad no knowledge beyond what Ihe ideas themselves gave me, nothing was so likely to occur to my mind as the supposi- OP THE EXISTENCE OF lUATEniAL Til INGS, ETC. If, 5 'Ion Ulat thc objects were similar io Ihe ideas wl • 1 ,i caused A„,i i -r un.is wliich hey oauscn. And because I recollected aho that 1 !,.,,! r , trusted to the senses ,.„,! ,, formerly s"=::;::A:;;A.:A;A.;:::r,i"Ai-,J and in fine 1 „ n. , m3 ¦Ti"~bfcsan,iafleelion.-, f;^p,:i boohes that were separated from it. But ZZ ZerlZd into the reason why, from this I know not what se of pam, sadness of mind should follow, and vh f 0 «t i°z dS l^™™rrmott* "ess of sadness which spring, froni the ' ¦ ; Z "A" m Ihe same way it seemed to me that a UJe ' , ' meets I had formed rco,, ,.flill„ ,, ' fi[liU\'A,ov jud:,- diebitesornature;beeaus: Z7 L t^!'"?"™ were formed in me, before I 1 tl'^J'"ljf"'enta -^crthe reasons «Z LZ ZZZZZZ Z" them. "- l" !IK to form But, afterwards, a wide experience bx- d l"° n'ii" ' "»" '¦.-' u::: AAA™, AAA i or, MEDITATION VI. observed that towers, which at a distance seemed round appeared square when more closely viewed, and thai colossal figures, raised on the summits of these towers, looked like small statues, when viewed from the bottom of them ; and, in other instances without number, I also dis covered error in judgments founded on lho external senses; and not only in those founded on the external, but even in thoso that rested on the internal senses; for is there might more inlernal than pain? and yet I have sometime? been informed by parlies whose arm or leg had been am putated, that (bey si ill occasionally seemed lo feel pain in that part of the body which they had lost,— a circumstance that led me to think that I could not bo quite certain even that any one of my members was affected when I felt pain in it. And to these grounds of doubt I shortly afterwards also added two others of very wide generality : the first of them was that I believed I never perceived anything when awake which I could not occasionally think I also per ceived when asleep, and as I do not believe that the ideas I seem to perceive in my sleep proceed from objects ex ternal to me, I did not any more observe any ground for believing this of such as I seem to perceive when awake ; the second was that since I was as yet ignorant of the author of my being, or at least supposed myself to be so, I saw nothing to prevent my having been so constituted by nature as that I should be deceived even in matters that appeared to me to possess tho greatest truth. And, with respect to the grounds on which I had before been persuaded of the existence of sensible objects, I had no great difficulty in finding suitable answers to them ; for as nature seemed to incline me to many things from which reason made me averse, I thought (hat I ought not to con fide much in its (cachings. And although the perceptions of the senses wore not. dependent on my will, I did not think that 1 ought on that ground to conclude that they proceeded from things different from myself, since perhaps OF THE EXISTENCE OF MATEIUAC THINGS, ETC. 1 07 there might be found in me some faculty, though hitherto unknown to mo, which produced then But now that I begin to know myself better, and to discover more clearly the author of nry bei„, I \lo m ° -deed, tlnnk that I ought rashly to afouit ah whkh e senses seem to teach, nor, on the other hand, is it my c v.cl.o„ that I ought to doubt in genera. of their teaching And, firstly, because I know that all winch I eieaily and distinctly conceive can be ,,„„,„„.,, , (;«g and unextended thing, and as, on the other hand I po sess a dist.net idea of body, in as far M it is m7\* extended and unthinking thing, it is certain that I tl ¦S, my mind, by which I am what I am], is entirely truly distinct from my body, and may exist without it Moreover, I find m mYself diverse f.io„!;K,s of thick;,., that havxe each their special mode; for example, I fo 7l -ssessthefimultiesofiniagiiiingmidpereeivno y.i,h 1 oiZZr.77 de:U'ly "^ d,'Jli"Ctl* W"-- -nv,lf ntne, but I cannot reciprocally conceive them witho.c MEDITATION VI. conceiving myself, that is to say, without an intelligent substance in which they reside, for [in the notion we have of them, or to use the terms of the schools] in their formal concept, they comprise some sort of intellection ; whence I perceive that they arc distinct from myself as modes are from things. I remark likewise certain other faculties, as the power of changing place, of assuming diverse figures, and the like, that cannot be conceived and cannot thcroforo exist, anymore than thc preceding, apart from a substance in which they inhere. It is very ovident, however, that these faculties, if they really exist, must belong to some corporeal or extended substance, since in their clear and distinct concept there is contained some sort of extension, but no intellection at all. Farther, I cannot doubt but that there is in me a certain passive faculty of perception, that is, of receiving and taking knowledge of the ideas of sensible things;, bat this would be useless to mc, if there did not also exist in me, or in some other thing, another active faculty capable of forming and producing those ideas, But this active faculty cannot, be in me [In as far as I am but a thinking thing], seeing that it does not presujvp"bs(3 thought, and also that those ideas arc frequently pro duced in- my mind without my contributing to it in Ttny way, and e\en frequently contrary to my will. This faculty must therefore exist in some substance .different from n u\ in vehieh all the objective reality of the ideas that are produced by this faculty, is contained formally or eminently, as I before remarked : and this substanco is either, a body, that is to say, a corporeal nature in which is contained formally [and in e fleet] all that is objectively [and by representation] in those ideas ; or it is God him self, or some other creature, of a rank superior to body, in" wliich the same is contained eminentl}'. But ns_God is no dceci\er, it is manifest that be does not of himself and' immedialc.iy communicate those ideas to me, nor even j the. interveiitioii of any creature in which their objerps OK THE EXISTENCE OI- ..ATEIHA L THINGS, ETC 159 ^^^:^^7ZXZZT^ objects, I do not see how he could b foi ZZd 7^7 charge of deceit, if in truth they proeed from , source, or were produced by other <•" * tl>i"gs: and accordin„,y Znn t 1 "T l'n,'1Wcal i ,-. -_a'J._J1, must lie Concluded li,-,, , jmreal objects exist. Neverlhelcs. ,1 - ' C0''" 'exactly such AA Ave pe ei , 7 ™ "V^ comprehension by the sense , "¦ m*' '°'' ir obscure and conful, ZZ\ZZIZ7 "^"^ ^ t,,nt "» wlM-ch I clearly a 1 , , £" W-^«'«»t ' "ced of food and drink ' T ,'''Ui!- ;""1 *Um']* ''» of hunger and U,i ZZZZZZ'T Z ^^ ' C' A,ul therelore 1 ought no: too WICBITATION Vr. jfjoubt but that there is some truth in these InW Nature likewise teaches me by these sensations of pain iSr etC" '7 * - -t only lodged in my ££ c nioined 7 ' ^ ^ * am BeSkleS S° ™^y co me and as it were intermixed with it, that my mind and body compose a certain unity. For if this were not the ease, 1 should not, feel pain when my body is hurt seeing I am mm,]v a fhinki,lg thin& b(]t ^^ the wound by the understanding alone, just as a pilot per ceives by sight when any part cHiis vessel is damaged ; and when my body has need of food or drink, I should have a e ear knowledge of this, ami not be made aware of it by the confused sensations of hunger and thirst: for, in truth, all these sensations of hunger, thirst, pain, etc, are nothing more than certain confused modes of thinking, arising &0* the union and apparent fusion of mind and body Besides this, nature teaches me that my own body is surrounded by many other bodies, some of which I have toseek after, and others to shun. And indeed, as I per ceive different sorts of colours, sounds, odours, tastes, heat, hardness, etc., I safely conclude that there are in the bodies from which the diverse perceptions of the senses proceed certain varieties corresponding to them, although, perhaps,' not m reality hke them ; and since, among these diverse " perceptions of the senses, some are agreeable, and others disagreeable, there can be no doubt that my bodv, or rather my entire self, in as far as I am composed of body and mmd, may be variously affected, both beneficially and hurtfidly, by surrounding bodies. But there aro many other beliefs which, though seem ingly the teaching of nature, arc not in reality so, but which obtained a place in my mind through a" habit of judging inconsiderately of things. It, may thu8 easi] happen that such judgments shall contain error: thus for example, the opinion I have that all space in which OE THE EXISTENCE OP MATEU1AE TIHNCS, ETC. 1G1 there is nothing to affect Th,- „,„i senses is void; ^ZZolZ^ZZZZ^ ^ "* respect similar to the idea of hVi ! 7™ ever7 -Ihte or green body there " ^ .S^'" « 17 "'hlch 1 P--vc ; that in a bitter ZZZhZZZ' 8 thG 8amo ^ «nd 30 in other instances • 1 tho Z™ towers, and all dis.ant bodies, are of , Z ' ^rA,:A;rt::A!;AA:,::AAH':;'- «™»A A° AAA™ A "r1""^"1 « *: ¦™'M,ati;r'iA„:rzAt::z/Arrr SlALAA'r1'7 'A ™™"ShAA A ,»»™ contained oofa »,,/' '''"'"""™»J ^T, «a «¦» ,L 'VIZ. „TS Z:S'UV> P ™«1, taococ, „„ 10 „„ ,„; „, . » »» ™- » l»„, ».n- '»"'-¦-- «*pec,i„g ,„„.„,„ „%c,s ,,..,'» <¦< » J co„c,„s,„, ,™t».e] »,«,,,„,,„„„ of „ ,,;;;-; ™;;".[.'"A',°'' =r,:AAlA;AAA-to:B::;;;;:;::;i"» 162 MEDITATION VI. candle, I do not, nevertheless, experience any real or posi tive impulse determining me to believe that the star is not greater than the flame ; the true account of thc matter being merely that I have so judged from my youth without any rational ground. And, though on approaching the fire I feel heat, and even pain on approaching it too closely, I have, however, from this no ground for holding that something resembling the heat I feel is in the fire, any more than that there is something similar to the pain ; all that I have ground for believing is, that there is something m it, whatever it may be, which excites in mc (hose sent sal ions of heat, or pain. So also, although there are spaces m which I Ibid nothing to excite- and affect my senses, [ must not therefore conclude that those spaces contain 'in them no body ; for I see that in this, as in many other similar matters, I have been accustomed to pervert the order of nature, because these perceptions of the senses, although given me by nature merely to signify to my mind what things arc beneficial and hurtful to the composite whole of which it is a part, and being sufficiently clear and distinct for that purpose, are nevertheless used by me as infallible rules by which to determine immediately the essence of the bodies that exist out of me, of which they car, of course afford mc only tho most obscure and con fused knowledge. But I have already .sufficiently considered how it hap pens that, notwithstanding the supreme goodness of God, (here is falsity in my judgments. A difficulty, however! here presents itself, respecting the things which I am taught by nature must bo pursued or avoided, and also respecting the internal sensations in which I seem to have occasionally detected error, [and thus to be di rectly deceived by nature] : thus, for example, I may be so deceive. 1 by the agreeable taste oi some viand with which poison has been mixed, as to be induced to take the poison. In this case, however, nature may bo OF THE EXISTENCE OF MATERIAL THINGS, ETC. Kl3 excusod, for it simply leads me to desire tho viand for its agreeable taste, and not the poison, which is unknown to it; and thus we can infer nolhing from this circumstance beyond that our nature is not omniscient ; at which there is assuredly no ground for surprise, since, man being of a finite nature, his knowledge must likewise be of limited per fection. But we also not unfrcquently err in that to which we aro directly impelled by nature, as is Ihe case with in valids who desire drink or food that would be hurtful lo ihcin. It will here, perhaps, be alleged that the roa-mn why such persons are. deceived is (hat their nalure is corrupted ; but this leaves the diflicully untouched, for a sick man is not less really (he creature of God than a man who is in full health ; and therefore it is as repugnant to thc goodness of God that the nature of thc former should be deceitful as it is for that of the hitter to be so. And, as a clock, com posed of wheels and counter weights, observes not the les.; accurately all the laws of nature when it is il! made, and points out the hours incorrectly, than when it satisfies the desire of the maker in every respect ; so likewise if the body of man be considered as a kind of machine, so made up and composed of bones nerves, muscles, veins, blood. and skin, that, although there were in it no mind, it would still exhibit the same motions which it at present manifests involuntarily, and therefore without tlie aid of the mind. [and simply by the dispositions of its organs], I easily discern that it would also be as natural for tiAh a bodv, supposing it dropsical, for example, to experience ihe parehedness of the throat that is Usually accompanied in the mind by the sensation of thirst, and 'to be di-po-td by this parehedness to move its nerves and its other parts in tlie way required for drinking, and thus increase its malady and do itself harm, as it is natural for it, when it is not indisposed to be stimulated to drink for its ,,ni)(j by a simi lar cause; and although looking to the use Ibi-Avld-h a clock was destined b >y lis ma I ma ny licit it is 16-1 MEDITATION VI. deflected from its proper nature when it incorrectly indicates the hours, and on the same principle, considering the ma chine of thc human body as having been formed by God for thc sake of the motions wliich if usually manifests, although I may likewise have ground for thinking that it does not follow the order of its nature when the throat is parched and drink docs not tend to its preservation, nevertheless I yet plainly discern that this latter acceptation of the term nature is very different from the other ; for this 'is nolhing more than a certain denomination, depending entirely on my (bought, and hence called extrinsic, by which I compare a sick man and an imperfectly constructed clock with the idea. I have of a. man in good heallh and a well made clock; while by the other acceptation of nature is understood something which is truly found in things, and therefore possessed of some truth. But, certainly, although in respect of a dropsical body, it is only by way of exterior denomination that we say its nature is corrupted, when, without requiring drink, the throat is parched ; yet, in respect of the composite whole, that is, of the mind in its union with the body, it is not a pure denomination, but really an error of nature, for it to feel thirst when drink would be hurtful to it : and, accord ingly, it still remains to be considered why it is that the goodness of God docs not prevent tho nature of man ilpis taken from being fallacious. To commence this examination accordingly,. I here remark, in the first place, that there is a vast difference between mind and body, in respect that bodj', from its nature, is always divisible, and that mind is entirely indivisible. For in truth, when I consider the mind, that is, when I consider myself in so far only as I am a thinking thing, I can distinguish in myself no parts, but I very clearly discern that I am somewhat absolutely one and entire ; and although the whole mind seems to be united to the whole body, yet, when a foot, an arm, or any other OF THE EXISTENCE OF MATERIAL THINGS. ETC. 1G5 part is cut off, I am conscious that nothing has been taken from my mind ; nor can the faculties of willing, pcrceivimr. conceiving, etc., properly be called its parts, for it is the same mind that is exercised [all entire] .in -willing, in perceiving, and in conceiving, etc. But quite the,opposite holds in corporeal or extended things; for /j[_caunot imagine any one of them/ [how small soever it may be], 1 which I cannot easily sunder in thontrbi, and which, therefore, I do not know to be divisible.; This would be sufficient lo teach me that Ihe mind- or soul i't man is entirely different from the body, if I bad not already been apprised of it on other grounds. I remark, in the next place, that the mind does not immediately receive the impression from all the parts of the body, but only from tho brain, or perhaps even from one small part of it, viz., that in which the common sense (sensus communis) is said to be, which as of', en as it is affected in the same wajr, gives rise to the same perception in tho mind, although meanwhile the other parts of the body may be diversely disposed, as is proved by innu merable experiments, which it is unnecessary here to enumerate. I remark, besides, that the nature of body is such that none of its parts can be moved by another part a little removed from the other, which cannot likewise be moved in the same way by any one of the parts that lie between those two, although the most remote part does not act at all.(y As, for example, in the cord a, b, c, d, [which is in tension], if its last part d, be pulled, the first part a, will not be moved in a different way than it would be were one of the intermediate parts B or c to be pulled, and the last part r> meanwhile to remain fixed. Aud in the .same way, when I feel pain in the foot, the science of phyrics teaches me that this sensation is experienced by means of the nerves dispersed over thc foot, which, extending like cords from it to the brain, when they are contracted in the 166 MEDITATION VI. hi which 7 ft T-° tim° thG iam°at partS °f thc brain in which they have their origin, and excite in these parts n certain motion appointed by nature to cause in the mind n sensat.on of pain, as if existing in the foot : but as these nerves must pass through the tibia, the leg, the loins, he back, and neck, in order to reach the brain, it may hnppen that although their extremities in the foot are not nfo-cted, but only certain of their parts that pass through tbe loins or necfo the same movements, nevertheless, are exciied in tbe brain by this motion as would havo been caused there by a hurt received in the foot, and hence (he mmd will necessarily foci pain iu the, foot, just as if it bad liecn hurt ; and the same is true of all the other perceptions ot our senses. I remark, finally, that as each of the movements that are made m the part of the brain by which the mind is immediately affected, impresses it with but a single sensa tion, the most likely supposition in the circumstances is, that tins movement causes thc mind to experience, anion" all the sensations which it is capable of impressing upon it, that one which is thc best fitted, and generally the most iiselul for the preservation of the human body when it is m lull health. But experience shows us that all the per ceptions which nature has given us are of such a kind as I have mentioned ; and accordingly, there is nothing found m them that does not manifest the power and goodness of (>od. Thus, for example, when (he nerves of the foot are violently or more ihan usually shaken, the motion passbm- through the medulla of (he spine to the innermost parts of the brain affords a sign (0 thc mind on which it expe riences a. sensation, viz., of pain, as if it were in the foot, by which (he mi„d is admonished and excited (o do its inmost („ remove lho cause, of it as dangerous and hurtful Iu the fool. if is t..„e that God could have so cousfifuled Ihe nalure of man as that (he same molion in (he brain would luce informed (he mind of something altogether Oi? THE EXISTENCE OE MATERIAL THINGS, ETC. 167 different : tlie motion might, for example, have been the occasion on wliich the mind became conscious of itself, in so far as it is in the brain, or in so far as it is in some place intermediate, between the foot and the brain, or, finally, the occasion on which it perceived some other object quite different, whatever that might be; but nothing of all this would have so well contributed to the preserva tion of the body as that which thc mind actually feels. In the same way, when wc stand in need of drink, there arises from this want a certain parehedness in the throat that moves its nerves, and by means of them the inlcrnal parts of the brain; and this movement affects the mind with thc sensation of thirst, because there is nothing on that occasion which is more useful for us than to be made aware that we have need of drink for the preservation of our health ; and so in other instances. Whence it is quite manifest that, notwithstanding tlie sovereign goodness of God, the nature of man, in so for as it is composed of mind and body, cannot but be sometimes fallacious. For, if there is any cause wliich excites, not in the foot, but in some one of the parts of the nerves that. stretch from the foot to the brain, or even in the brain itself, (ho same movement that is ordinarily created when the foot is ill affected, pain will be felt, as it were, in the foot, and the sense will thus be naturally deceived ; for as tbe same movement in the brain can but impress the mind with the same sensation, and as this sensation is much more frequently excited by a cause which hurls the foot than by one acting in a different quarter, it is reasonable that it should lead the. mind to feel pain in the foot ralher thnn in any other part of the body. And if it somelimes happens that the parehedness of the throat does not arise, as is usual, from drink being necessary for the health of the body, but from quite the opposite cause, as is thc case with the dropsical, yet it, is much belter (hat. if, should be deceitful in that instance, than if on tbe contrary, il IMS MEDITATION VI. were continually fallacious when the body is well-disposed and tlie same holds true in other eases. And certainly this consideration is of great service, not only in enabling me to recognise the errors to which my nature is liable, but likewise in rendering it more easy to avoid or correct then : for, knowing (hat all my senses more usually indicate lo mo what is true (ban what is false, in inatters relating to (bo advantage of the body, and being able almost always to make use of more than a simile sense in examining the same object, and besides this, behu* able to use my memory in connecting present with past knowledge, and my understanding which has already dis covered all the causes of my errors, I ought no longer to fear that falsity may be met with in what is daily presented to me by thc senses. And I ought to reject all the doubts of those bygone days, as hyperbolical and ridiculous, especially the general uncertainty respecting sleep, which I could not distinguish from the waking state : for I now fold a very marked difference between the two states, in respect that our memory can never connect our dreams with each other and with tbe course of life, in the way it is in the habit of doing with events that occur when we arc awake. And, in truth, if some one, when I am awake, appeared to me all of a sudden and as suddenly disappeared, as do the images I see in sleep, so that I could not observe either whence he came, or whither lie went, I should not without reason esteem it either a spectre or phantom formed in my brain, rather than a real man. But when I perceive objects with reeai d (o which I can distinctly delermine both thc place whence they eome, and (hat in which (hey are, and the time at wliich they appear to nm, and when, without interruption, I can connect the perception I have of them with flic whole of (he oilier parts of my life, I nm perfectly sure licit what I (bus perceive occurs while I am awake and not during sleep. And 1 ought not in the least degree lo doubt of ihe truth of (hose presenlations, if, after having OF THE EXISTENCE OF MATERIAL THINGS. 100 called together all my senses, my memory, and my under standing for the purpose of examining them, no deliverance is given by any one of these faculties which is repugnant to that of any other : for since God is no deceiver, it ne cessarily follows (hat I am not herein, deceived. Bet because the necessities of action frequently oblige us to come to a determination before wc have had leisure for so careful an examination, il must be confessed that the life of man is frequently obnoxious to error wilh respect to individual objects ; and we must, in conclusion, acknow ledge the weakness of our nature. SELECTIONS riaei THE PBINCIPIES OP PHILOSOPHY DESCAliTES "727/ TUB FUENCI-I LETTER OF THE AUTHOR IREACIt TRANSLATOR OF THE PlilXCIrLES Or rniLOSOPH. SERVING Wit a rREFACE MR,— Ihe version of my Principles which you have been at pains to makc, is so elegant and finished as to lead me to expect that the work will be more generally reel in Irench than in Latin, and better understood. The only apprehension I entertain is lest the title should defer some who have not been brought up to letters, or with whom philosophy is in bad repute, because the kind they were taught has proved unsatisfactory ; and this makes me think that it will be useful to add a preface to it for the purpose of showing what the matter of the work is, what, end I Tad m view m writing if, and what utility may be derived from it. But although it might be my part to write a pref ec of this nature, seeing I ought to know those partici,for= better than any other person, I cannot nevertheless pre vail upon myself to do anything more than merely to fore a summary of the chief points that fall, as I thhfo to be discussed in it: and I leave it to your disemfon to present to the public such part of them as von shall ifo" proper. •' .iu--L I should have desired, in tbe lfrsr p]MC, to h]p what philosophy is, by commencing with the ni.t,,,'! ¦natters as for example, that the word philosophy ,7ZC the study of wisdom, and that by wisdom is to be under: z I 74 OKEIACE TO THE 1'KIKCll'I.ES. stood not merely prudence in the management of affairs, but a perfect knowledge of all that man can know, as well for thc conduct of bis life as for the preservation of his health ami (he discovery of all the arts, and that knowledge to subserve these ends must necessarily be deduced from first causes ; so that in order to study the acquisition of it (which is properly called philosophizing, we must commence with the investigation of those first causes which arc, called Principles. Now those principles must possess two eoneiilions : in thc first place, they must be so clear and evident that tho human mind, when it atlctively considers (hem, cannot doubt of their truth; m the second place, the knowledge of other things must be so dependent on them as that though the principles themselves may indeed be known apart from what depends on them, the latter cannot nevertheless be known apart from the former. It will accordingly be necessary there after to endeavour so to deduce from those principles the knowledge of the things that depend on them, as that there may be nothing in the whole series of deductions which is not perfectly manifest. God is in truth the only being who is absolutely wise, that is, who. possesses a perfect knowledge of all things ; but we may say that men are more or less wise as their knowledge of the most important truths is greater or less. And I am confident that there, is , cubing, hi what I have now said, in which all the learned do not concur. I should, in the next place, have proposed to consider the utility of philos0| by, and at the same time have shown that, since it embraces all that thc human mind can know, we might to believe that it is by it, we are disl blemished from savages and barbarians, and that thc civilisation and culture of a nation is regulated by the degree in wliich true philosophy nourishes in it, and, accord ingly, that to contain true philosophers is thc highest privilege a state can enjoy. Besides this, I should "have rllEEACE TO THE l'KINCI CI.E.K. 171 shown that, as regards individuals, it is not only useful for each man to have intercourse with those who apply themselves to this study, but that it, is incomparably better he should himself direct his attention to it; just as it is doubtless to be preferred that a man should make use of his own eyes to direct his steps, and enjoy by means ot thc same tho beauties of colour and light, than that he should blindly follow the guidance of another ; though the latter course is certainly boiler than fo have the eyes closed with no guide except one's self. But to live with out philosophizing is in truth the. same as keeping the eyes closed without attempting to (pen tbeni : aud the pleasure of seeing all that sight discloses is not to be compared with the satisfaction afforded by thc discoveries. of philosophy. And, finally, this study is more im peratively requisite for the regulation of our manners. and for conducting us through life, than is the use of our eyes for directing our steps. The brutes, which havo only their bodies to conserve, arc continually occupied in seeking sources of nourishment; but men, of whom the chief part is the mind, ought to make the search after wisdom their principal care, for wisdom is the true nourish ment of the mind ; and I feel assured, moreover, that there are very many who would not fail in the search, if thcy would but hope for success in it, and knew tbe decree of their capabilities for it. There is no mind, hoy frnoble soever it be, which remains so firmly bound up in the objects of the senses, as not sometime or other' to turn itself away from them in thc aspiration after some higher good, although not knowing frequently wherein that good consists. The greatest favourites of fortune— tliose who have health, honours, and riches in abundance arc not more exempt from aspirations of this nature (ban others ; nay, I am persuaded that, these are the persons who sich the most deeply after another good greater and more perfectstill than any they already possess. But (be supreme 176 I'KEEACE TO THE PRINCIPLES. good, considered by- natural reason without the light of hn lb, is nothing more than tbe knowledge of truth through its first causes, in other words, the wisdom of which philosophy is the study. And, as all these particulars aro indisputably (rue, all that is required to gain assent to their truth is thai, they be well stated. But as one is restrained from assenting to these doctrines by experience, which shows that they who make pretensions to philosophy are olicn less wise, and reasonable than others who never applied themselves to the study, I should have here shortly explained wherein consists all the scieneo we now possess, anil what are the degrees of wisdom at which we have, a.rived. The first degree conlains only notions so clear of themselves that they can be acquired without meditation ; the second comprehends all that the experience of the senses dictates ; the third, that which the conversation of other men teaches us ; to which may be added os the fourth, the reading, not of all books, but especially of such as have been written by persons capable of conveying proper instruction, for it. is a species of con versation we hold with their authors. And it seems to me that all the wisdom we in ordinary possess is acquired only in these four ways ; for I do not class divine revela tion among them, because it does not conduct us by degrees, but elevates us at once to an infallible faith. There have been, indeed, in all ages great minds who endeavoured to tied a fifth road to wisdom, incomparably more sure and elevated than tbe other four. The path they essayed was the search of first causes and true prin ciples, from which might be deduced the reasons of all that can be known by man ; and it is to them the appellation of philosophers has been more especially accorded. I am not aware that there is any one of them up to the present who has succeeded in this, enterprise. The first and chief •vho.se writing, we posse-s, are Plato and Aristotle, between whom there was no difference, except that thc former, PREFACE TO THE PRINCIPLES. 177 following in the footsteps of his master, Socrates, ingenu ously confessed that ho had. never yet been able to find anything certain, and that he was contented to write what seemed to him probable, imagining, for this end, certain principles by wliich he endeavoured to account for the other things. Aristotle, on the other hand, characterised by less candour, although for twenty years thc disciple of Plalo, and with no principles beyond I hose of his master, com pletely reversed his mode of pulling (hem, and proposed as true and certain what it is probable he himself m.^cr esteemed ns such. But these two men had acquired much judgment and wisdom by the four preccdin- means, qualities which raised their aulhorily very Inch, so much so that those who succeeded them were willing rather to acquiesce in their opinions, than to seek belter for them selves. The chief question among their disciples, however was as to whether we ought to doubt of all things or hold some as certain, — a dispute which led them on both sides into extravagant errors ; for a part of those who were for doubt, extended it even to tlie actions of life, to the neglect of the most ordinary rules required for its conduct ; those, on the other hand, who maintained the doctrine of certainty, supposing that it must depend upon the senses, trusted entirely to them. To such an extent was this carried by Epicurus, that it is said he ventured to affirm, contrary to all the. reasonings of tbe astronomers, that the sun is no larger than it appears. It is a fault wc may remark in most disputes, that, as truth is the mean between the two opinions that are upheld, each disputant departs from it in proportion to thc degree in which he possesses the spirit of contradiction. But the error of those who leant too much to tbe side of doubt, was not followed for any length of time, and that of thc opposite party has been to sonic extent corrected b ,- the doctrine that tlie senses are rleecilful in mnnvinstam .A Nevertheless, I do not know that (his error was wholly 178 PREFACE TO THE PRINCIPLES. Z7h;zi^z^^^^^Zo^ tl"om even though constrained by the evidence of C 1 in ignorance of this truth, or, if there was any Zo °M .II .W" kno™, horn neglect of it, the mafority Mindly lolloweil Aristotle so (V,i tl r '"A'1"101*5' runted fbo , ' ' ° ('":lt tllc.y frequently cor- uptul the sense ol hts writings, and attributed to him various opinions which he would not recognise as lbs ot fo i1: T t0 mnm t0 the world; a,id ^ -» o d " atst mi J' r6.^ ;1I'C t0 be *"°* "any of the 0icaestn„nd.s. did yet not escape being imbued with his "P-mons m their youth, as these form the stap e of r Hon in the schools; and thu.s their minds were so me occupied that they could not rise to the knowledge of tim prmeip e. And though I holdall the philosophers hi eleem ml am unwdlmg to incur odium by my censure I can a luce ^ f of my ^^ ^ J ™ I - «» hem wilt gainsay, which is, that they all laid down 17 ¦nnciplc what thcv did not perfectly know. For example Wno,,^ cavity m terrestnal bodies ; but although experience ^k>ws us very clearly that bodies we call heavy dcZZ -ai'ls the eenlre of „,,, earth, wo do not, therefore, Tn w "e nature of graviiy, (ll.,l(, ; (1|e "™ v.;;;- o.' which bodies descend, and we must'de liv^nr -o«,,focof „, Iron, some other source. The same may A, °! ;! VM""1"" i,,lfl !ll°™> of heat and cold, of dryness -l..m;id,,y and,,,' salt, sulphur, and mercury, and thc otl.e. I lungs of th,., sort which some have adopted as their foincples. lb,., no concision deduced from a principle PBEPACE TO THE PH1NC1P1.ES. 17 0 which is not clear can be evident, even although the deduction be formally valid ; and hence it follows that no reasonings based on such principles could lead them to the certain knowledgo of any one thing, nor consequently ad vance them one step in the search after wisdom. And if they did discover any truth, this was due to one or other of the four means above mentioned. Notwithstanding this, I am in no degree desirous to lessen the honour which each of them can justly claim ; I am only constrained to say, for the consolation of those who have not given their attention to study, that just as in travelling, when wc turn our h.vk upon the place to which we were going, we recede the farther from it in proportion as wc' proceed in the new direction for a greater length of time and with create,- speed, so that, though we may be afterwards bronchi back to the right way, we cannot nevertheless arrive at die des tined place as soon as if we bad not moved backwards at all; so in philosophy, when we make use of fabe princi ples, we depart the farther from the knowledge of truth and wisdom exactly in proportion to fhe care with wide!, we cultivate them, and apply ourselves to the deduction of diverse consequences from them, thinking that we -re philosophizing well, while we are only departing the fa ther from thc truth ; from which it must be inferred tha' they who have learned the least of all that has been hitherto distinguished by the name of philosophy are the most fitted for the apprehension of truth. After making tliose matters clear, I should, in the next place, have desired to set forth the grounds for l,0ldin~ that the true principles by which wo may reach that Ifohct degree of wisdom wherein consists the sovercfrn 7d ol !""»an life, arc (hose I hay e proposed in this work ; and considerations alone arc suflieient to establish H,i- 1 1 . ., ,p.«f of which is, that these principles are very clear, and the second, that we can deduce all oilier truths from H,e.m • mr it is only these two conditions that are -comr,! in ISO CKEEACE TO THE PRINCIPLES. n . e prmeiples. Imf I easily prove that they are very clear; Justly, by a. reference to the manner in which I found hem, namely, by rejecting all propositions that were in tho least doubtful, for it is certain that such as could not be rejected „y tins test when they were attentively considered, arc thc most evident and clear which the human mind can know. 1 bus by considering that he who strives to doubt of all is unable nevertheless (o doubt that ho is while ho < oubts, ami that what reasons (bus, i„ ,lot, boing ab]c (f) 'lonbt ol itself and doubting nevertheless of everything else ih not that which we call our body, but what we name our >»'»<1 or thought, 1 have, taken the existence of this (hoimht ->r ll.c hrst principle, !r„m whidl , vcry c]c,u,,y ^^ the iollowing truths, namely, that there is a God who is the author of all that is in the world, and who, being the source of all truth, cannot have, created our understanding of such a. nature as to be deceived in the judgments ft forms of thc things of wliich it possesses a very clear and distinct perception. Those are all thc principles of which 1 avail myself touching immaterial or metaphysical objects, from which I most clearly deduce these other prin ciples of physical or corporeal things, namely, that there are bodies extended in. length, breadth, and depth, which ere of diverse figures and are moved in a variety of ways buch are in sum the principles from which I deduce all other truths. The second circumstance that proves the clearness of these principles is, that they have been known in till ages, and even received as true and indubitable bv all men, with the exception only of the existence of God, which lias been doubted by some, because they attributed' too much to the perceptions of tho senses, and God can neither be .seen nor touched. P.ut, though all tho truths which I class among my principles were known at all times, and by all men, never theless, there has been no one up to the present, who, so far as f know, has adopted them as principles of phifoso- VREFACE TO THE l'KlNCIPLES. 181 phy : in other words, as such that Ave can deduce from them the knowledge of whatever else is in the world. It accordingly now remains for me to prove that they are such; and it appears to me that I cannot better establish this than by the test of experience : in other words, by- inviting readers to peruse the following work. For, though I havo not treated in it of all matters — that being impos sible — I think I have so explained all of which 1 had occasion to treat, that they who read it allenliveiy Mill have ground for the persuasion that it is unnecessary to seek for any other principles than those ] have foven, in order to arrive at the most exalted knowledge ol which the mind of man is capable; especially if, alter the perusal of my writings, they take tbe trouble to consider how many diverse questions are therein discussed and explained, and, referring to the writings of others, they see bow little probability there is in the reasons that are adduced in ex planation of the same questions by principles different from ^ine. And that they may the more easily undertake this, 1 might have said that those imbued with my doctrines have much less difficulty in comprehending the writings of others, and estimating their true value, than those who have not been so imbued ; and this is precisely the oppo site of what I before said of such as commenced with the ancient philosophy, namely, that the more they have studied it the less fit are they for rightly apprehending the truth. I should also have added a word of advice regarding the manner of reading this work, which is. that I should wish the reader at first to go over thc whole of it, as he would a romance, without greatly straining his attention, or tarrying at the difficulties ho may perhaps meet with in it, with the view simply of knowing in general Ihe matters of wliich I treat; and that afterwards, if they seem to him to merit a more careful examination, and be feel a desire to know their causes, he may read it a second time, in order to observe the connection of my reasonings; but that lie 1S2 PREPACK TO THE PRINCIPI,ESi I'^of- or understand dl ho Section of the »™»-/ to mark y r;;"1^ "oinS ™* '^Iambics occur and c ' p,aCM w,,cro th« -P'iontofbc fo' ^n if fo;!1'? to r«d -««>out inter- :;;i;;:;^t^-i--.ormostofti,eihii;;!!icr;^ , , t"°'""1 ,l0 fnt'nl in another readin- ;f....,A,ob;,,™»;l;;Arr,AAl,,A,AA:!rr "'hess most manifest iirfrr n Z 1 °™ ^ on too rapidly: whence it comes to pass tint thevf i ences from the,,,. For this reason, I should ZhZ Z :; p ,on 7 tn . ,ii—""1 °f *«> own BW% z --o -'«"-y (!,at even (he mos( superi: •cs , Menee oln inch lime and attention to remark ' n,. signed to embrace, therein. PREFACE TO THE I'KtSCH'LES. 1SE After this, that I might lead men to understand the real design I had in publishing them, I should have wished hero to explain fhe order wliich it seems to me. one oiiLdif to fol low with the view of instructing himself. In the first place. a man who has merely the vulgar and imperfect knowledge which can be acquired by the four means above explained. ought, before all else, to endeavour to form for himself a code of morals sufficient fo regulate the actions of bis life. as well for the reason that this does not admit of delay as because it ought to bo our first care to live well. In (he next place, be ought lo study Logic, not that of thc schools, for it is only, properly speaking, a dialectic which teaches the mode of expounding to others what we already know, or even of speaking much, without judgment, of what Ave do not know, by which means it corrupts rather than in creases good sense — but the logic which teaches the rfoht conduct of the reason with the view of discovering the truths of which we are ignorant; and, because it creatfo depends on usage, it is desirable he should exercise bin,"- self for a length of time in practising its rules on easy and simple questions, as tliose of the mathematics. Then, when he has acquired some skill in discovering the truth in these questions, be should commence to apply liimself in earnest to true, philosophy, of which fhe first part is Metaphysics. containing the principles of knowledge, among which is the explication of the principal attributes of God, of the immateriality of the soul, and of all the clear and .simple notions that are in us ; the second is Physics, in which. after finding the. true principles of material thfrcs, we examine, in general, bow the whole univer.se has been framed: in the next place, we consider, in particular, the nature of Iho earth, and of all the. bodies that are most generally found upon if, as air, waler. fire, (he loadstone and other minerals. In the next place, if is necessary also to examine singly the nature ol plants, 0f animals' and above all of man, in order that we may thereafter be aide IS4 fl.-EI'ACE TO Til,.; PIHiVCIPLES. in Zzzzz Zzzzes Tr wM to »¦ ^ bi-anebcs that grow out 77 7 "" S0Iences the ^ three prhtclpi a , 1 ZZ' ^'^ mo rcduc«1 Ethics. Byihe '( fo', S' McdlCino' Panics, and • -fo) the science of Morals. I understand tho l ¦ i and most perfect which nm ¦ "mlusUlld tllc highest ^>- et, ;1;!;:L/':;vhei'ootSOTt,,cti'i"ik-f(-" t^ir b : ": r, ' uon y from tiie cxtremi«- of ponds on ZZ Z'Z1 Umy °f Pllil°S°P^ de" ^brsto/foh^ these, the ,e-d I fou , S r i ''•" ,gn°rant °f almost a11 service to 1, p ,'b ^ ?"., '" ^"^ to ^ of U'ines I tlioim-hf T lA l , "ayS 0n the d°c- I'-ayswa°^ Di ' ^7^ The &St P^ of these in.th P.,' o, "i rSC!0n t!l°Mctlwdof'»Shtlyeonduct- -inch i ,; c ; ' ,„f„„T ngf Trath in the Scieno->" - and also o an L f T, ^^P"1 ™I«> of logic, provisional £ f ZZZ^ * 7™ ""* foI^W ^^the,.pLtsw^th:e:.eSs?:etro;D'brtei'- the second of Meteors, and the thirl' 77 Dl0Ptnc8> SA?Al:hiAVhrr:1^--- A1:6-;1™ °f «<*«*. i «™t is very clearly deduced from true principles. I well know, likewise, lhat many ages may elapse ere. all -he trulh.s deducble from these principles are evohed out 01 them, as well because the greater number of such as remain to be discovered depend on certain particular experiments that never occur by chance, but which require to be investigated with care and expense by men of the highest intelligence, as because it will hardly happen that the same persons who have the sagacity to make a right use o them, will possess also the means of making then,, and also because the majority of the best minds leave formed so low an estimate ot philosophy in general, from the im- pertecf.ons they have remarked in the kind in vo-me up to ice present tune, that they cannot apply themselves to the search after truth. But, in conclusion, if the difference discernible between the principles m question and those of every other system, and, the great array of truths dedueible from them, lead them (o discern the importance of continnfon- Hu, sc.u,.h abci- thee truths, and lo observe the degree of wisdom, the pcrieoiiou and lehcity „[ life, t„ wliieli they are filled to conduct us, 1 venture to believe that there will not be 1 "! '""¦ wll° is n°t i-'-'aly to labour hard in so ]1rofilablc a study, or at least lo favour and aid with all his mfrht ! '' v''h" -'il:l11 'h'vote themselves to it willi success. Ihe hefoht of my « ish.es is, that posterity may some- '."'„¦ behold thc. luq.py issue of it, etc. DEDlOATiOX. l.'i'j 10 TUB JlflST 8i:ill;.\i.; ntlMlfss, EL IS Ail Kill, ¦nnit.vr DAunim-.i; of ri:i:i>i;i:tyic, kixo of no:n COUNT PALATINE, AMI, I.t.LCTOK OF Till; SACKED K0.1IAN EtUl'IliC. Madam,— The greatest advantage I have derived from the writings which I have already published, has arisen from my having, through means of the,,,, become k:, ,wu to your Highness, aud thus been privileged to hold occasion..,; converse with one in whom so main- rare and estimable qualities are united, as to lead me to "believe I shofod do service to the public by proposing them as an example to posterity. It would ill become me to ilatte-, or to -ivc expression to anything of which I had no eerie in know ledge, especially in the first pages of a work in which I aim at laying down the principles of truth. And thc generous modesty that is conspicuous in all you- aeiioos assures mc that the bank and simple judgmAi! ot a man who only writes what he believes wiil be more, a.-rced fo to you than the ornate laudations of those who haye.Aludied the art ol compliment. For this reason, I will give in sertion to nothing in this letter for which I Irc-e'iiot the certainty both of experience and reason ; and in too ex ordium, as in the rest of the work, r will write only ls becomes a philosopher. There is a vast difference bei Aeen real and apparent virtues; and there is also a -real «* tho cub f e Fi s^pl T7 7Cn° abHit^ th0 --^tions of the Fust Philosophy: insomuch that I can ,-,-"- will, t-th I know but one mind, and that is yl' v, " Hhich both studies are alike congenial, i,d wfocli I l'J-3 DEDICATION. therefore, with propriety, designate incomparable. But what most of all enhances my admiration is, that so ac curate and varied an acquaintance with tho whole circle of the sciences is not found in some aged doctor who has employed many years in contemplation, but in a Princess sliil young, and whose, countenance and years would more fitly represent one of (he Graces than a Muse or the sao-e Minerva. In conclusion, I not only remark in your High ness all that is requisite on the part of the mind to perfect and .sublime wisdom, but also all that can be required on the part of flic will or the manners, in which benignity and gentleness are. so conjoined with majesty that, though foi-luno has a (.lacked you with continued injustice, it has failed either to irritate or crush you. And this constrains me to such veneration that I not only think this work due to you, since it treats of philosophy which is the siudy of wisdom, but likewise foel not more zeal for my reputation as a philosopher than pleasure in subscribing myself, — Of your most Serene Highness, The most devoted servant, DESCARTES. THE PRINCIPLES OF PHILOSOPHY. •ART I. OP THE PKINClI-i.r.S OE HUMAN K \owi.k: >c i:. I. That in order fo seek truth, it is noo-scry once in for course or our life, to doubt, as far as possibfoA.f ail things. As wc were at one time children, and as we forme,! various judgments regarding the objects prc-ctel l0'o,ir senses, when as yet we had not die entire use of on,- rea son, numerous prejudices stand in fhe way of our ,---rivfo~ at the knowledge of truth ; and of these it '.ecus imno-sihlc for us to rid ourselves, unless we undertake, o,e-A in o„r bfetime, to doubt of all tliose things in whfoi we imA discover oven the smallest suspicion of uncertainty. II. That wc ought also to consider as fabe all that m doubtful. Moreover, it will be useful likewise to es,,,.„, as ftp,,, the Ibmgs of which we shall be abb, lo doubt, lhat vo ,-,,-v with grealer clearness discover what posses,,..; „„-.,( cer tainty and is the easiest, to know. IIP That we ought not meanwhile lo make use of d ch in the conduct of life, In the meantime, it, is to be observed lhat we are lo -,vil ourselves of this general doubt, only while en—, d in [be contemplation of truth. For, as Jar as ceiicenrs the com' x!U THE PRIXCIPLES OE PHILOSOPHY, duet^ of life, wo are. very frequently obliged to follow opinions merely probable, or even sometimes, though of two courses of action we may not perceive more probability in the one than in the other, to choose one or other, seeing the opportunity of acting would not ^infrequently pass away before we could free ourselves from our doubts. IY. Why we may doubt of sensible things. Accordingly, since wc now only design to apply ourselves to the investigation of truth, we will doubt, first, whether of all the things lhat have ever fallen under our senses, or which we have ever imagined, any one really exist ; in the first place, because wc know by experience that the senses sometimes err, and it would be imprudent to trust too much to what has even once deceived us ; secondly. because in dreams wo perpetually seem to perceive or imagine innumerable objects wliich have no existence. And to one who has thus resolved upon a general doubt, there appear no marks by which he can with certainty distinguish sleep from thc waking state. V. Why we may also doubt of mathematical demon strations. We will also doubt of tlie other things we have before held as most certain, even of the demonstrations of mathe matics, and of their principles which wc have hitherto deemed self-evident ; in the first place, because we havo sometimes seen men fall into error in such matters, and admit as absolutely certain and self evident what to us appeared false, but, cliiefly because we have learnt that God who created us is all-powerful ; for we do not yet know whether perhaps it was his will to create us so that we are always deceived, even in the things wo think wc know best: since this does not appear more impossible than our lining occasionally deceived, which, however, as observation teaches us, is the case. And if we suppose that an ah-powi rful fiol is not the author of our bcinn-, void that we exist ol ourselves or by some other means, PAltT i. 105 still, the less powerful we suppose our author fo be, the greater reason will we have for believing that we arc not so perfect as that we may not be continually deceived. VI. That we possess a free-will, by wliich wc can with hold our assent from what is doubtful, and thus avoid error. But meanwhile, whoever in the end may be the author of our being, and however powerful and deceitful he may be, we arc nevertheless conscious of a freedom, by which wo can refrain from admitting to a place in our belief aught, that is not manifestly certain and undoubted, and thus guard against ever being deceived. 1> II. That we cannot doubt of our existence while we doubt, and that this is the first knowledge we acquire when we philosophize in order. While we thus reject all of wliich we can entertain tbe smallest doubt, and even imagine that it is false, we. ea.sifr indeed suppose that there is neither God, nor skv, nor bodies, and that we ourselves even have neither "bands nor feet, nor, finally, a body; but, we cannot in the. same way suppose that we aro not while we doubt of fhe tre.'li of these things; for there is a repugnance in conceiving that what thinks does not exist at the very time when it thinks. Accordingly, the knowledge, I thhik. tberefoir. 1 am, is tlie first and most certain that occurs to one who philosophizes orderly. A III. That we hence discover the distinction between the mind and the body, or between a thinking- and corpo real thing. And this is the best mode of discovering the. nature of thc mind, and its distinctness from the body :'Aor examining what we arc, whilo supposing, as we now do, that there is nothing really existing apart from our thought, we clearly perceive that neilhcr extension, nor figure, nor local motion,* nor anything similar that can be attributed to Instead of "local motion," the French has " existence in ny place. 196 THE PHIXCiri.ES OP PHILOSOPHY. body, pertains to our nature, and nothing save thought alone; and, consequently, that the notion we have of our mmd precedes that of any corporeal thing, and is more certain, seeing we still doubt whether 'there is any body in existence, while we already perceive that we llnnk; IX. What thought (eogitatio) is. By the word thought, I understand all that which so lakes place in us that wc oi ourselves arc immediately con scious of it; and, accordingly, not only to understand (ut/edtgere, a,tai,lre\ to will (relic), to imagine (imafinari), but even to perceive, (.entire, senile), arc here the same as to llnnk (cogitare, par^r). For if I Kl}, 1 see, or, I walk, therefore I am ; and if I understand by vision or walkino the act of my eyes or of my limbs, which is the work of the body, the conclusion is not absolutely certain, because, as is often the case in dreams, I may think that I see or walk, although I do not open my eyes or move from mv plaee, and even, perhaps, although I have no body: but, il I mean tbe sensation itself, or eonseionsness of seeing or walking, the knowledge is manifestly certain, because it is then rdforcd to thc mind, wliich alone perceives or is con scious that it sees or walks. * X. That the notions wliich ore .simplest and self-evident, a™ obscured by logical definitions; and that such arc not bi lie reckoned among the cognitions acquired by study. Phut as born with it- j I do not be-e explain several other terms which I have used, or design to use in tbe sequel, because their meaning seems to me sufficiently self-cyident. And I frequently remarked that philosophers erred in attempting to explain, by logical definitions, such truths as are most simple and self-evident; for they thus only rendered them more ob scure. And when I said that the proposition, I think. l.i the lu-eiieh, ''whir!, aione lias the power of perceiving-, or ol soin^ conscious in am other v.- ay whatever." PART I. in 7 therefore I am, is of all others the first and most certain which occurs to one philosophizing orderly, I did not there fore deny that it was necessary to know what, fbomfol existence, and certitude are, and the truth lhat, in order to think it is necessary to be, and the like; but, because these are the most simple notions, and such as of then, selves afford the knowledge of nothing existing, I did not judge it proper there to enumerate them. XI. How we can know our mind more elenrlv than em body. But now that it may be discerned how the knowieifoe we have of thc mind n-t only precedes, and has greater certainty, but is even clearer, than that we Inn e Af tbe body, it must be remarked, as a matter that is hfohiv manifest by the natural light, that to nothing no affections or qualities belong; and, accordingly, that where we ob serve certain affections, there a fling or substance to which these pertain, is necessarily found.' The same ifrfo also shows us that we know a thing or substance more'cicifoy in proportion as we discover in it a, greater number of qualities. Xow, it is manifest that we remark a n-ect, r number of qualifies in our mind than in any other thin- ; for there is no occasion on which we know anvthinc who ever when we arc not at the same time led with much greater certainty to the knowledge of our own mind. fo,r example, if 1 judge that there is an earth hecam.. I touch or see it, on the same ground, and with still creator reason. I must be persuaded that mv mind exists ; for it may be" perhaps, that I think I touch tho earth while there is none in existence; but it is not possible that I should -0 judge, and my mind which thus judges not exist ; and *he same holds good of whatever object is presented to or mind. XII. How it happen* that every one does net come equally to know this. Those who have not philosophized in order have iiad 198 THE PRINCIPLES OF PIIILOSOPHV. other opinions on this subject, because they never distin guished with sufficient care the mind from the body. For folhough they had no dilfic.ulty in believing that they themselves existed, and that they had a higher assurance of this than of any other thing, nevertheless, as they did not observe that by thnnsch-es, they ought here to under stand their minds alone [when the question related to me taphysical certainty] ; and since, on the contrary, they rather meant their bodies which they saw with their eyes, touched with their hands, and to which they erroneously attributed the faculty of perception, they were prevented from distinctly apprehending the nature of the mind. XIII. In what sense the knowledge of other things de pends upon the knowledge of God. Put when the mind, which thus knows itself but is still hi doubt as to all other things, look? around on all sides, with a view to the farther extension of its knowledge, it first of all discovers within itself the ideas of many things ; and while it simply contemplates them, and neither af firms nor denies that there is anything beyond itself cor responding to them, it is in no danger of erring. The mind also discovers certain common notions out of which it frames various demonstrations that carry conviction to such a degree as to render doubt of their truth impossible, so long as we give attention to them. For example, tho mind has within itself ideas of numbers and figures, and it has likewise among its common notions (he principle that if cjuals be added lo ajuetk the ivholes will be copied, and the like; from which it is easy to demonstrate that tho three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles, et-. Bow, so long as wc attend to the premises from which this conclusion and others similar to it were deduced, we lei assure,1, of their truth; foil, as the mind cannot always think ol these with attention, when it has the re- meiiibi..,.iee of. a, conclusion without rceollcrfing the order PART I. 199 of its deduction, and is uncertain whether the author of its being has created it of a nature that is liable to be deceived, even in what appears most evident, it pereeives that there is just ground to distrust the truth of such con clusions, and that it cannot possess any certain knowledge . until it has discovered its author. XIV. That we may validly infer thc existence of God from necessary existence being comprised in tbe concept we have of him. V hen the mind afterwards reviews the dithrent ideas that arc in it, if discovers what is by far the chief among' them — that, of a Being omniscient, all-powerful, and absolutely perfect; and it observes that in (his idea there is contained not only possible and contingent, existence, as in thc ideas of all other things which it clearly perceives, but existence absolutely necessary and eternal. And just as because. for example, the equality of its three ancles to two right angles is necessarily comprised in the idea of a triande, the mind is firmly persuaded that tbe three angles of a tri angle are equal to two right, angles ; so, from its perceiving necessary and eternal existence to be comprised in the idea wliich it has of an all-perfect Being, it ought manifestly to conclude that this all-perfect Being exists. XV. That necessary existence is not in the same way compriscd in the notions which we have of other things, but merely contingent existence. The mind will be still more certain of the t,-u,h of this conclusion, if it consider that, it has no idea of nny othcr thing in which it can discover that necessary existence is conlained ; lor, from this circumstance alone, it will discern that tho idea oi an all-perfect Being has not been framed by itself, and that it docs not represent a. chimera, but a true and immutable nature, which must exist since it can only bo conceived as necessarily existing. XVI. That prejudices hinder many from clearly blow ing tho necessity of the existence of (foul. 200 THE 1MUXCIPI.ES OF PHIEOSOPHr. lint as we have been nceu tome '/ °m 1-ejudiees; t^.fo^ssencefi.oni.S^fo ;(Ho','n""Sh'inn,1°fhCr hleas of thing, which i, " to ^fo'"* at will many happens, when we d ZZddZZ ZZ'Z " ""^ contemplation of the -fo- Hn-foc B 7 g'"S °n ,h° ns to whether the • Z 1 v n * '^ ° d°Ubt nri«» -foci, we frame ¦ c d ' " " "0t °ne °f tho8e -iH,e o^ZzZuZzz" oi; at loast °f that c];,ss t0 u' LXi.-bii',e does not pertain h-!'fom'he"!:i,tr";;.'t-:nhi7(ivvropwe,i^i-)p"'- nnistb.tl ', ¦ ¦ °' ''' """foll'e greater also "m.st i>e tbe. pc-ieciion ol its cause us ilte" t,r-htfr '' "°C. M "" ;ari0"8 ^ ftnt ^ » a o : t hi,; w,' ,X'C,VU tlmt.t lei'° is not much difference "° ' A'AA ''n wc c°™'h-r them simply as certain iw ;nr °""C ° n,^etS th°y ^l^sent; and mbizr:;::::-:^:-^^;1-'1-^^--,.- Vnr ,„ ¦ ° -¦•,' ¦•|-Cll'° Perfection contained in them/ oJ^foLh^et i:t,i;rm:foAnUicconstru"tim i. . .-, . fofocd, m «hieh Circumstances we t;.«:,A:::::foA:;:!::;;A?'AM"1"fl""!;-;:!- fo'--- A™- i:-A~:A: eenins. tliat he was able ofld-n-ue * ¦ I,.,, in,, ,i. i !f t0 lnvont ]t> -hhout UM„g elsewhere seen anything like it; for all the rngenin y winch is contained in the idea objectively its uZ Vi 77'7 '" " Pif't,irP' in,lst ^ at least in 7;:. ',,lcl'i;—-^atever that may be, not only ^ i A °r ^¦™«^v, but in truth formally or "•¦"'«''nt they icprcscl,,!- their object has more perfection.'-— /"micA I- ART I. OQl XVIII. That tho existence, of God may be again in ferred from the above. Thus, because we discover in our minds (he idea, of God or of an all-perfect Being, we have a right to inquire into the source whence wc derive it; and we will discover that the perfections it represents are so immense as to render it quite certain tliat wc conld only derive it from an all- perfect Being ; that is, from a God really exi-fing. For it is not only manifest by the natural l'ieht that nothing cannot lie thc cause of anything whatever, and lhat the more perfect cannot arise from the less ported, yn as fo be thereby produced as by its ellieient and total cause, but also (hat it is impossible we can have the idea or repre sentation of anything whatever, unless there be somewhere. either in us or out of us, an original which comprises, fo reality, all the perfections that are thus represented to is: bul, as wc do not in any way find iu ourselves those abso lute perfections of which wc have the idea, wc must con clude that they exist in some nature, dilferei.t from our.-, that, is, in God, or at, least, that they were once in him ; and' it most manifestly follows [from their infinity] that foey are still there. XIX. That, although we may not cmurelmnd tbe nature of God, there is yet nothing winch we know so clearly as his perfections. This will appear sufficiently certain and manifest to those who have been accustomed to contemplate tho idea of God, and to turn their thoughts to his iA finite Perfec tions ; for, although we may not comprehend them, because it is of the nature of the infinite not to be comprehended by what is finite, we nevertheless conceive them more clearly and distinctly than material objects, for (hi., mi--,,,-., that, being simple, and unobscured by limits,* tliev cecum' our mind more folly. ' ' * After lints, » „l,n(, of then ,ve ,lo cecebe is „meh ),-< co„f,,-c,l J hero is, besides, no speculation more calculate,] l„ ai,l in perfecti,- 202 THE PltlKCIPIKS OF P1III.OSOPHV. f, .X.X" T1'at 1Ve arc not the ca™o of ourselves, but that tlns^s God, and consequently that there is a God. But, because every one has not observed this, and be cause, when wo have an idea of any machine in which great skill is displayed, we usually know with sufficient accuracy the manner in which wc obtained if, and as we cannot even recollect when the idea wc have of a God was communicated to us by him, seeing it was always in our trends, it. is still necessary that we should continue our review, and make inquiry after our author, possessing, as we do, the idea of the infinite perfections of a God : foifof is in the highest degree evident by the natural light, that that which knows something more perfect than itself, is not the source of its own being, sinee'it would thus have given to itself all the perfections which it knows; and that,' conse quently, it could draw its origin from no other being than from him who possesses iii himself all those perfections, that is, from 'led. XXI. That the duration alone of our life is sufficient to demonstrate tbe existence of Cod. The limb of this demonstration will clearly appear, provided we, consider the nature of time, or the duration of things ; for this is of such a kind that its parts are not mutually dependent, and never co-existent; and, accord ingly, from the fact that we now are, it does not necessarily follow that wc shall be a moment afterwards, unless some cause, viz.. that which first produced us, shall, as it were, continually reproduce us, that is, conserve us. For we easily understand that there is no power in us by which we can conserve ourselves, and that the being who has so much power as to conserve us out of himself, must also by so much the greater reason conserve himself, or rather stand in need of being conserved by no one whatever, and, in fine, be God. our muhu-starchng, and ,ihi 1, is more important than this, inasmuch as the enusuleration of an object, that has no limits to its perfections (ills us uiih satisfaction and as^nniiico." — French. PAKT I. g(J3 XXII. That in knowing ihe existence of God, in the manner hero explained, wc likewise know all hi.-, attributes, as far as they can be known by the natural light alone. There is the great advantage in proving the existence ot God in this way, viz., by his idea, that went the same time know what he 'is, as far as the weakness of our nature allows; for, reflecting on the idea wc have of him which is born with us, we perceive that he is eternal, omniscient. omnipotent, the source of ail goodness and truth, creator of all things, and that, in fine, he has in liimself nil that in wliich we can clearly discover any infinite perfection or good that is not limited by any imperfection. XXIII. That God is not corporeal, and docs not perceive by means of senses as wo do, or will the evil of sin. For there are indeed many thing.-; in the y,,jrhl thai aie to a certain extent imperfect or limited, though possess ing also some perfection ; and it is accordingly impossible that any such can be in God. Thus', looking lo corporeal nature,* since divisibility is included in local extension. and this indicates imperfection, it is certain that God b not body. And although in men it is to some degree : perfection to be capable of perceiving by means of thc senses, nevertheless since in every sense there is passivity j which indicates dependency, wo must conclude that God is in no manner possessed 0f senses, and that be only undcrstands and will-:, not, however, like us. by acts iii any way distinct, but always by an act that is one, identi cal, and the simplest possible, understands, wills, and oper ates all, that is, all things that in reality exist,; for he does not will the evil of sin, seeing this is but the negation of being. XX IV. That iii passing from the knowledge of God to the » In thc French, "since extension constitutes the nature ot t.oob - 1 in the French, " because our perceptions arise four, impression-: made upon us from another source," i. <¦„ than ourselves ¦JO I THE PUHVCIPI.KS OF PHILOSOPHY. himself v ' knowledge we have of God fo. 1 ( V7 t0 thC C^i[™ of ^ things which he re i , vH "S"y * ZUC* U '™ *° notions tha x ; e:,;;::;,T.tc1i'wcriI1,h,,sobtiiiiithcm°st lnfir c,„ I , ' knowl«lge of effects throufo, ; 77 Uit that ^ maJ' ^ able to make (hi c i on ,o , ear in nimdas much as possible that God, who tlu^,u,ho,; o. (bmgs, )S infinite, while we are whollv finite ni. ion Ji i ma y surpass the reach of our faculties. Urns, if perhaps God reveal to us or others, matters concerning hnnseb which surpass the natural p0 ers o ^^^^thomystonosoithomo^JZZrli *»¦ «'-fy we will not refuse to believe them, although vm nmy not clearly understand them ; nor wi.l ve be n i y -fov surprised to find in the immensity of his nature or even m what he has created, many thinis that cxcted on compi-ehension. cxeeea om XXVI. That it is not needful to enter into disputes* fofordmg Plie infinite, but merely to hold all that in which ^ - ('"d - h.nits as imiefinite, such as the extend »v,i:;^ -r t;:c ^^lt3t;:IjiUfc- of tlie ™ °^ — — ^c „ Wx°(;ViH '.".'* "-nch. t 'I'h,: last clause, 1,,'iduiiiiiK "bearing; in mind," is omitted in tli« French. PART 1. 207 in those things that appear to us the most evident The same principle ought also to be of avail against ail the oilier p-ounds oi doubting ihat, have been already enumerated lor mathematical truths ought now to be above suspicion' smee these are of the clearest. And if we perceive an - thmg by our senses, whether while awake or asleep, we will easily discover the truth, provided we separate what there i', of clear and distinct in the knowledge from what is obscure and confused. There is no need that I should here — more on this subject, since it has already received ample treatment in the metaphysical Meditations; aud what fol lows will serve lo explain it, still more accurately. XXXI, That our errors are, in respect 0f oAl, merely negations, but, in respect of ourselves, privations But as it happens that we frequently fall into error, although God .s no deceiver, if we desire to inquire into the origin and cause of our errors, with a view to -uard against them, it is necessary to observe tliat tbev deperd ess on our understanding than on our will, and that they have no need of the aelnal concourse of God, m order to their production ; so that, when considered in reference to God, they are merely negations, but in reference to our selves, privations. XXXII. That there are only two modes of thinking in os, viz., the perception of the understanding ilml ipeacbou of Ihe will. ' For all the modes of thinking of which wc are commons nay be referred (o (wo general classes, the one of ybich the perception or operation of the nndersmndbm. and 'lie other the volition or operation of (he will. Thus to perceive by the senses (scntirc), (o iniayine. and ,o eon eeivethmgs purely i,i,clbgible,B are onlv'difieren, n,0[ "e perecivnig (PcrciPiendi) ¦ bnt ln (l,,bo. ,o be averse from' to a.lnn^fo,^todoubt,a,-edillei-en«,inodesoi,i1,ilJ .V-AxVUl. lhat we never err unless when we fo.fA ,,f something which we do not suilieiently apprehend. " " 208 Tin: PU1NCIPLKS OF PMILOSOPHT. When we apprehend anything wo are in no danger ot error, if we refrain from judging of it in any way ; and even when we have formed a judgment regarding it, wo would never fall into error, provided we gave our assent only to what we clearly and distinctly perceived ; but the reason why we are usually deceived, is that wc judge with out possessing an exact knowledge of that of which we judge. XXXIV. That the will as well as the understanding is required for judging. I admit that, the understanding is necessary forjudging, there being no room to suppose lhat we can judge of that which we in no way apprehend ; but the will also is required in order to our assenting to what we have in any degree perceived. It is not necessary, however, at least to form any judgment whatever, that we havo an entire and perfect apprehension of a thing ; for we may assent to many things of which wc have only a very obscure and confused knowledge. XXXV. That thc will is of greater extension than the understanding, and is thus the source of our errors. Further, the perception of the intellect extends only to the few things that are presented to it, and is always very limited : the. wili. on the other hand, may, in a certain sense, be said to be infinite, because wc observe nothing that can be the, object of thc will of any other, even of the unlimited will of God, to which ours cannot also ex- lend, so that we easily carry it beyond the objects we clearly perceive ; and when we do this, it is not wonderful that we happen to be deceived. XXXVI. That our errors cannot be imputed to God. But although God has not given us an omniscient under standing, ho is not on this account lo be considered in any wi.-e tbe author of our errors, for it is of the nature of created intellect to be finite, and of finite intellect not to embrace all things. PART I. 200 XXXVII. That the chief perfection of man is his bcim- able to act freely or by will, and that it is this which rcii- dcrs him worthy of praise or blame. That the will should be the more extensive is in har mony with its nature; and it is a high perfection in man to be ablo to act by means of it, that is, freely; and. thus in a peculiar way to be the master of his own actions, and merit praise or blame. For self-acting machines are not commended because they perform with exactness all ihe movements for which they were adapted, seeing their mo tions are carried on necessarily; but the maker of them is praised on account of the exactness v,i(h wliich they were framed, because he did not act of necessity, but freely; and, on the same principle, we must attiibutc to ourselves something more on this account, that when wc embrace truth, we do so not of necessity, but freely. XXXVIII. That error is a defect in our mode of act ing, not in our nature; and that the faults of their subjects may be frequently attributed to other masters, but neve- to God. It is true, thai as often as we err, there is some defect in our mode of action or in the use of our liberty, but not in our nature, because this is always the same', whetlmr our judgments be true or false. And although God could have given to us such perspicacity of intellect that we should never have erred, wc have, notwilhsfandfoe, no right to demand this of him ; for, although with us he who was able to prevent evil and did not is held guiltv ol it, God is not. in the same way to be reckoned re-'oon.vible for our errors because he had the power to prevent them, inasmuch as tho dominion which some men possess over others has been instituted for the purpose of enabling them to hinder those under them from doing evil, where,; the dominion which God exercises over the un, verse is per fectly absolute and free. For this reason we o, ,..-!,( .„ thank him for the goods he has given us, and not complain HO THE PRINCIPLES OF PHILOSOPHY. that he has not blessed us with all which we know it was ;u bis power lo imparl. XXXIX. That the liberty of our will is self-evident. Finally, it is so manifest that we possess a free will, capable of giving or withholding its assent, that this truth must be reckoned among the first and most common notions which are born with us. This, indeed, has already very clearly appeared, for when essaying to doubt of all things, we went so far as to suppose even that he who created us employed his limitless power in deceiving us in every way, we were conscious nevertheless of being free to abstain from believing what was not in every respect certain and undoubted. Put that ol which we arc unable to doubt at such a lime is as self-evident and clear as any thing wo can over know. XB. That it is likewise certain that God has fore ordained all tilings. But because what we have already discovered of God, gives us the assurance that his power is so immense that we would sin in thinking ourselves capable of ever doing anything which be bad not ordained beforehand, we sliould soon be, embarrassed in great difficulties if we undertook to harmonise the pre-ordinat.ion of God with tbe freedom of our will, and endeavoured to comprehend both truths at XLf. How tbe freedom of our will may be reconciled with the Divine pre-onlination. But, in place of this, we will be free from these embar rassments if we recollect that our mind is limited, while the power of God, by which ho not only knew from all eternity what, is or can be, but also willed and pre-ordained it, is infinite. It thus happens that wc possess sufficient intelli gence to know clearly and distinctly that, this power is in ("rod, but not enough to comprehend how he leaves the free actions ol men indeterminate; and, on the other band, wc have such consciousness of the liberty and indifference I'AHT I. Ml which exists in ourselves, that there is nothing we i acre clearly or perfectly comprehend : [.so that the o,nuipo(o,ioo of God ought not to keep us from believim- it] F(„ it would be absurd to doubt, of that of which we are fully conscious, and which we experience as existing in OUKCi,,,; because we do not comprehend another matter which, from its yery nature, we know to be incomprehensible. XLII. How, although we never will to err, it is never theless by our will that, we do err. But now since we know that all our errors depend upon our will, and as no one wishes fo deceive himself it mav seem wonderful that there is any eiror in our j,„fr,„e„A at al. It is necessary to remark, however, that lhAe is a great difference between willing to be deceived, and ¦villfo.r to y,eld assent to opinions in which it happens that, error is found. For though there is no one who cxpr, ~]v wishes to fall into error, we will yet hardly find anv on,- who is not ready to assent to things in whi-h. unknoAn to himself, error lurks; and it even fre-ptenily foipoem, ,W it is the desire itself of following after truth 'that leads tl„>e not folly aware of the order in which if ougfo to b~ -oimfo for, to pass judgment on matters of which the-.- have Am adequate knowledge, and thus to fall into error." XBIII. That we. shall never err if we give our assent only to what we clearly aud distinctly perceive. But it is certain we will never admit falsity for (ruth so long as we judge only of that which wc clearly and dis tinctly perceive ; because, as God is no deceiver, the f-,e. hv of knowledge which he has given us cannot be fidlacious nor, for the same reason, the faculty of will, when we do not extend it beyond the objects we clearly know And even although this truth could not be established fo, reasonmg, the minds of all have, been so impressed b'y nature as spontaneously to assent to whatever is c' -i-A perceived, and to experience an impossibility |„ doubt of its truth. 212 THE PRINCIPLES OF PHILOSOPHY. XLIV. That we uniformly judge improperly when we assent to what we do not clearly perceive, although our judgment may chance to be true ; and that it is frequently our° memory which deceives us by leading us to believe that certain things were formerly sufficiently understood by ns. ' It is likewise certain that, when we approve of any reason which we. do not apprehend, wo are either deceived, or, if we stumble, on thc truth, it is only by chance, and thus wc can never possess thc assurance that wc are not in error. I confess it seldom happens that we judge of a thing when wc have observed wc do not apprehend it, because, it is a dictate of the natural light never to'judge of what wc do not know. But we most frequently err in this, that wc presume upon a past knowledge of much to which we give our assent, as to something treasured up in the memory, and perfectly known to us ; whereas, in truth, we have no such knowledge. XBV. What constitutes clear and distinct perception. There are indeed a great many persons who, through their whole lifetime, never perceive anything in a way necessary forjudging of it properly; for tbe knowledgo upon which we can establish a certain and indubitable. nubmiont must be not only clear, but also distinct. I call 'that clear which is present and manifest to the mmd giv ing attention to it, just as we are said clearly to see objects when, hem- present to tbe eye looking on, they stimulate it with sufficient force, and it is disposed to regard them ; but the, distinct is that which is so precise and different from all other objects as to comprehend in itself only what is clear* . XBVB It is shown, from the example ot pain, that a perception may bo clear without being distinct, but that it cannot be distinct unless it is clear. ¦¦ what api-.c.-u-s manifestly to him w who considers it as he ought."— Frrneh. PART I. 213 For example, when any one feels intense pain, the knowledge which ho has of this pain is very clear, but it is not always distinct; for men usually confound it with the obscure judgment they form regarding its nature, and think that there is in the suffering part something similar to the sensation of pain of which they arc alone conscious. And thus perception may be clear without being distinct, but it can never be distinct, without likewise being clear. XBVII. That, to correct the. prejudices of our early years, wc must consider what is clear in each of our simple* notions. Aud, indeed, in our early years, the mind was so im mersed in the body, that, although it percebod many things with sufficient clearness, it yet knew nothing dis tinctly ; and since even at that time wc exercised out- judgment in many matters, numerous prejudices were tfrj = contracted, which, by tbe majority, are never afterwards laid aside. But that we may now be in a position to eet rid of these, I will here briefly enumerate all the simple notions of which our thoughts are composed, and distin guish in each what is clear from what is obscure, or fitted to lead into error. XLVIII. That all the objects of our knowledge, aro to be regarded either (1) as things or the affections of tilings : or (2) as eternal truths; with the enumeration of tilings. Whatever objects fall under our knowledge we consider cither as things or the affections of things, j- or as clcn.al truths possessing no existence beyond our thought. Of thc first class the most general arc substance, duration, order, number, and perhaps also some others, which no tions apply to all the kinds of things. I do not, however, recognise more than two highest kinds (siunnui genera) of « "first.."— French. t Thing's and thc affections of things are iiu thc Trench) c;pii, alert to "what has some (i.e. a real) existence," as opposed to tho class e:f. "eternal truths," which have merely an idea! existence. nr THE P1UXCIPLES OP 1'UILOSOPHV, things; the first of intellectual things, or such as have the power of thinking, including mind or thinking substance and its properties; the second, of material things, embrac ing extended substance, or body and its properties. Per ception, volition, and all modes as well of knowing as of willing, arc related to thinking substance; on the other hand, to extended substance wo refer magnitude, or exten sion in length, breadth, and depth, figure, motion, situa tion, divisibility of parts themselves, and fhe. like. There are, however, besides these, certain things of which wo have an internal experience that ought not to be. referred either to the mind of itself, or to the, body alone, but to the close, and intimate union between them, as will here after be shown in its place. Of this class are thc appetites of hunger and thirst, etc., and also the emotions or passions of the mind which are not exclusively mental affections, as the emotions, of anger, joy, sadness, love, etc. ; and, finally, all the sensations, as of pain, titillation, light and colours, sounds, smells, tastes, beat, hardness, and the other tactile qualities. XI IX. That the eternal truths cannot be thus enumer ated, but that this is not, necessary. What I have, already enumerated we are to regard as things, or the qualities or modes of things. We now eome to speak of eternal truths. When we apprehend that it is impossible a thing can arise from nothing, this proposition, e.r. nihilo nihil fit, is not considered as somewhat existing, or as. the mode of a thing, but as an eternal truth having its seat in cur mind, and is called a common notion or axiom. Of this class are tbe following: — It is impossible the same thing can at once be and not be; what is done cannot be undone; be who thinks must exist while he thinks; and innumerable others, tbe whole of which it is indeed difficult to enumerate, but this is not necessary, .since, if blinded by no prejudices, we cannot fail to know them when the occasion of thinking them occurs. PART I. 215 L. That these truths are clearly perceived, but not equally by all men, on account of prejudices. And, indeed, with regard to these common notions, it is not to be doubted that they can be clearly and distinctly known, for otherwise they would not merit this appella tion : as, i„ truth, some of them are not, with rcspccVto all men, equally deserving of the name, because they are not equally admitted by all : not, however, from this reason, as I think, that the faculty of knowledge of one man ex tends farther than that of another, but rallier because these common notions arc opposed to die pr. judices of some, who, on (his account, are not able readily lo embrace [hem, even although others, who are free bom tliose prejudices, apprehend them with the greatest clear ness. LI. What subslance is, and that the term is not .appli cable to God and the creatures in the same seise. But with regard to vGiat wo consider as things or the modes of things, it is worth while to examine earn of them by itself. By substance we can concehe nothing else than a thing which exists in such a way its lo sAmd in need of nothing beyond itself in order to iis existence. And, in truth, there can be concehed but one substance .which is absolutely independent, and that is God,. Vf0 perceive that all other things can exist only by hcip of the concourse of God. And, accordingly, tho'lcrm substance docs not apply to God and the creatures uedotv/lij. lo adopt a term familiar in the schools ; that is, „o sieuifi, alien of this word can be distinctly understood which is common to God and them. LIB Thai Ihe term is applicable univoeally to the mind and the body, and bow substance, itself is known. Created substances, however, whether corporeal or thinking, may bo conceived under (his common' concept; for these are things which, in order to their existence,' stand in need of nothing but the concourse of God. Ifoi 216 IHE PRINCIPLES OP PHILOSOPHY. yet substance cannot be first discovered merely from its being a thing which exists independently, for existence by itself is not observed by us. We easily, however, discover substance itself from any attribute of it, by this common notion, that of nothing there arc no attributes, properties, or qualities : for, from perceiving that some attribute is present, we infer that some existing thing or substance to which it may be attributed is also of necessity present. LIII. That of every substance there is one principal attribute, as thinking of the mind, extension of the body. But, alt bough any attribute is sufficient to load us to thc knowledge of substance, there is, however, one prin cipal property of every substance, which constitutes its nature or essence, and upon which all the others depend. Thus, extension in length, breadth, and depth, constitutes the nature of corporeal substanco ; and thought the nature of thinking substance. For every other thing that can be attributed to body, presupposes extension, and is only some mode of an extended thing; as all the properties we dis cover in the mind are only diverse modes of thinking. Thus, for example, we cannot conceive figure unless in something extended, nor motion unless in extended space, nor imagination, sensation, or will, unless in a thinking thin"-. But, on the other hand, we can conceive exten sion without figure or motion, and thought without imagi nation or sensation, and so of the others ; as is clear to any ono who a (tends to these matters. LIV. How wc may have clear and distinct notions of the substance which thinks, of that which is corporeal, and of God. And thus wc may easily have two clear and distinct notions or ideas, the one of created substance, which thinks, the. other of corporeal substance, provided we carefully distinguish all the attributes of thought from those of extension. We may also have a clear and distinct idea of 217 rm uncreated and independent thinking substance, that is, of God, provided wc do not suppose that this idea adequately represents to us all that is in God, and do not mix up with it anything fictitious, but attend simply to the characters that are comprised in the notion we have of him, and which we clearly know to belong to tbe mature of an absolutely perfect Being. For no one can deny ifoit there is in us such an idea of God, without grounu'lcssly supposing that there is no knowledge of God at all in the human mind. BV. How duration, order, and number may be also distinctly conceived. We will also have most distinct, conceptions of duration. order, and number, if, in place of mixing up with our notions of them that which properly belongs lo the concent of substance, we merely think that the duration of a thing is a mode under which we conceive this thing, in so far as it continues to exist ; and, in like manner, that order and number are not in reality different from things disposed in order and numbered, but only modes under which we diversely consider these things. LVI. What arc modes, qualities, attributes. And, indeed, we hero understand by modes tho same with what we elsewhere designate attributes or nunlitks But when we. consider substance as affected or vaiic-d by them, we rjpc the term modes ; when from this variation it may beMenominatcd of such a kind, wc adopt ihe term qualities [to designate fhe different modes which cause it to bo so named]; and, finally, when we simply regard these modes as in the substance, wc call then attributes. Accordingly, since God must be conceived as superior to change, it is not proper to say that there are moles or qualities in him, but simply attributes ; and even in created things that wliich is found in them always in the same mode, as existence and duration in the thing which exists and cn- ' durcs, ought to bo called attribute, and not mode or quality 218 THE 1'IIINCIPIES OF PHILOSOPHY. BVII. That some attributes exist in tho things to which they are attributed, and others only in our thought; and what duration and time are. Of these attributes or modes there are some which exist in the things themselves, and others that have only an existence in our thought,; thus, for example, time, which we distinguish from duration taken in its generality, and call the measure of motion, is only a certain mode under which we, think duration itself, for we do not indeed con ceive the duration of things that arc moved to be different from the duration of things that arc not moved : as is evi dent from l his, lhat if two bodies are. in motion for an hour, the one moving quickly and the oilier slowly, we do not reckon more time in thc one than in the other, although there may be much more motion in the one of the bodies than in the other. But that we may comprehend the duration of all things under a, common measure, we compare their duration with that of thc greatest and most regular motions that give rise to years and days, and which we call time; hence what is so designated is nothing superadded to duration, taken in its generality, but a mode of thinking. BVIII. That number and all universals are only modes or thought. In the same way number, when it is not considered as in cronicd things, but merely in the abstract or in general, is only a mode of thinking; and the same is true of all those general ideas we call universals. LTX. How universals are formed; and what are (he five common, viz., genus, species, difference, property, and accident. Universals arise merely from our making use or one and the same idea in thinking or all individual objects between which there .;ubsists a certain likeness; and when wo comprehend all the objects represented by this idea under one name, this term likewise becomes universal. ' For example, when we see two stones, and do not regard their PART I. My oZ^^;:z:f^t -°° iZz:; - fl,n+ h ot lliem so hue as to obi",- e ^-AA=;A;A:AfoTAr,;;A ::a;^:=a— :-:saa;:a three sales we form a certain idea, which we call bn,: ofa triangle, and we afterwards make use of i, as (hi :z: % 7Tni to our mi',,, ai! °,h"- '*"- ^™> S'ffis. 1 „ when we remark more parliclarly (hot ,., ot, ve form the universal idea of a right-angled (namfo. vh.ch being related to the preceding as „,orS ..,„..,. ,A .1 he called species ; and the right angle the universal dbfo"' j- 3Mv),ichright-anplcd,rianglesA,i.edistii,guid ,,f , aho hers ;vnndfi,r,her, because the square oft! hie sustains the right angle is c,l,aI'l0 tlie ^ ^ he othc t sideS) aM(1 |iccsuiM (h.s ^ -a of to this species of triangles, we may „ i it' .1 ° ' Z property of the species. F na Iv fr Z " ^ ^^ }he» triangles some are mZoZ Z Z7ZZ Z" fo ^ their universal accident; and, accord mg "Z7ZZ monly reckon five universal, vb, • enee, proper/accident. ' ^ "^ *^ difl«- LX. Of distinctions; and first of the real But number in things themselves arises from the fo- metion there is between them : and distinct i 7 - ^ fold, viz., real, modal, and of reason Th , subsists between two or more s, b ',nce '¦ , d 7^7 220 THE PRINCIPLES OF PHILOSOPHT. we have now, for example, the idea of an extended and corporeal substance, though we as yet do not know with certainty whether any such thing is really existent, never theless, merely because we have the idea of it, we may be assured that such may exist ; and, if it really exists, that every part which we can determine by thought must be really distinct from ihe other parts of the same substance. In the. same way, since every one is conscious that he thinks, and that be in thought can exclude from himself every other substance, whether thinking or extended, it is certain that each of us thus considered is really distinct from e^ery other thinking and corporeal substance. And although we, suppose that God united a body to a soul so closely that it was impossible to form a more intimate union, and thus made a composite whole, the two sub stances would remain really distinct, notwithstanding this union ; for with whatever tic God connected them, he was not, able to rid himself of the power he possessed of sepa ration- them, or of conserving the one apart from the other, aud the things which God can separate or conserve sepa rately arc really distinct, LXI. Of tho modal distinction. There are two kinds of modal distinctions, viz., that be tween the mode properly so-called and the substance of which it is a mode, and that between two modes of the same substance. Of the former wc have an example in this, that we can clearly apprehend substance apart from the mode which we say differs from it ; while, on the other hand, we cannot conceive this mode without con: eciving the substance itself. There is, for example, a modal distinction between figure or motion and corporeal substance in which both exist; there is a similar distinc tion between affirmation or recollection and the mind. Of the latter kind we have an illustration in our ability to recngifo-e tbe one of two modes apart from thc other, as ffoure apart from motion, and motion apart from figure ; PART I. 221 though we cannot think of either the one or the other without thinking of the common substance in which they adhere. If, for example, a stone is moved, and is withal square, we can, indeed, conceive its square figure without its motion, and reciprocally its motion without, its square figure; but we can conceive neither this motion nor this figure apart from the substance of the stone. As for the distinction according to which (he mode of one. substance is different from another substance, or from Ihe mode of another substance, as the motion of one body is biffereni from another body or from the mind, or as motion is differ ent from doubt, it seems to me that it should be called real rather than modal, because these mode- cannot be clearly conceived apart from the really distinct substances of which they are the modes. BXII. Of the distinction of reason (logical dis tinction). Finally, tho distinction of reason is that between a sub stanco and some one of its attributes, without which it is impossible, however, wc can have a distinct conception of the substance itself; or between two such altiibutes of a common substance, the one of which we essay to think without the other. This distinction is manifest from our inability to form a clear and distinct idea of such substance, if we separate from it such attribute; or to have a cfoar perception of the one or two such attributes if wc separate it from the other. For example, because any substance which ceases to endure ceases also to exist, duration is not distinct from substance except in thought (ratione); and in general all the modes of thinking which we consider as in objects differ only in thought, as well from the objects of which they are thought as from each other in a common object* It occurs, indeed, to mc that I have, elsewhere * "and generally all the attributes that lead us to entertain different thoughts of the same thing, such as, for example, the extension of hod- and its property of divisibility, do not differ from the body whi-h ii to 2 C 222 THE PRINCIPLES OF PHILOSOPHY. classed this kind of distinction with tho modal (viz., towards tho end of tho Reply to tbe First Objections to tlie Meditations on (he First Philosophy); but there it was only necessary to treat of these distinctions generally, and it was sufficient for my purpose at that time simply to distinguish both of them from the real. LXIII. How thought and extension maybe, distinctly known, as constituting, the one the nature ol mind, Ihe oilier that ol' body. Thought and extension may he regarded as constituting the natures of intelligent and corporeal substance ; and then they must not, be otherwise conceived than as the thinking and extended substances themselves, that is, as mind and body, which in this way are conceived with the greatest clearness and distinctness. Moreover, we more easily conceive extended or thinking substance than sub stance by itself, or with the omission of its thinking or extension. For there is some difficulty in abstracting the notion of substance from the notions of thinking and ex tension, which, in truth, are only diverse in thought itself (i.e., logically different); and a concept is not more distinct because it comprehends fewer properties, but because we . accurately distinguish what is comprehended in it from all other notions. LXIV. How these may likewise be distinctly conceived as modes ol substance. Thought and extension may be also considered as modes of substance ; in as far, namely, as the same mind may have many different thoughts, and the same body, with its size unchanged, may be extended in several diverse ways, at one time, more in length and less in breadth or depth, and :d another time more in breadth and less in length ; and then they aro modally distinguished from substance, us the. object of (hem, or from eaeh other, unless as ire. sometimes con fusedly think the one without, thinking the other."— Fren'b. PART I. o'>3 and can be conceived not less clearly and distinctly, pro vided they be not regarded as substances or things Aop-.,- ated from others, but simply as modes of ,l,in^ ° ],-„/,', regarding them as in the substances of which foev arc (be modes, wc distinguish them from these substances and bike them for what in truth they are : whereas, on (he other hand, if wc wish to consider then, anarl from the substances in which they aro, we should by this bself regard then, as self-subsisting things, and thus confound the ideas of mode and substance. BXY. How wo may likewise know their modes In the same way we. will best apprehend the diverse modes of thought, as intellection, imagination, recollection volition, etc., and also the diverse modes of extension or those that belong to extension, as all figures, the fo-r,- t.on of parts and their motions, provided wo consider thorn simply as modes of the things in which they are • am] motion as far as it is concerned, provided we think merely ot locomotion, without seeking to know the force th-'t produces it, and which nevertheless I will essav to exifrfo, m its own place. ' BXVI. How our sensations, affections, and appetites may be clearly known, although we are freouentlv wro.-e- in our judgments regarding (hem. There remain our sensations, affections, am! apnefitc, of winch wo may also have a clear knowledge, if wc take care to comprehend in the judgments we form of them onlv that which is precisely contained in our peree„tion ,1 them, and of which we are immediately conscious ' There is, however, great, dillieulfy in observing fob. at b-„t in respect of sensations ; because we have all, without „,.„„. tion.from our youth judged that all the fhime, we perceive',! by our senses bad an cxislcncc bey,,,,,! our thoimht ami Mint they were entirely similar to ihe sense, ions, frat js perceptions, we bad of them. Thus when, for ni b' wo saw a certain colour, we thought wc saw sometbmJ ¦J -J A THE PKINCIPI.KS OF PHILOSOPHY. occupying a place out of us, and which was entirely simi lar to that idea of colour we were then conscious of; and from tbe habit of judging in this way, we seemed to see this so clearly and distinctly that we esteemed it (i.e., the externality of the colour) certain and indubitable. LXV1I. That we are frequently deceived in our judg ments regarding pain itself. Thc same prejudice has place in all our other sensations, even in those of titillation and pain. For though we are not in the habit of believing that there exist out of us objects that resemble titillation and pain, wc do not never theless consider these sensations as in tho mind alone, or in our perception, but as in the hand, or foot, or some other part of our body. There is no reason, however, to constrain us to believe that the pain, for example, which we feel, as it were, in the foot is something out of the mind existing in the foot, or that the light which we see, as it were, in the sun exists in the sun as it is in us. Both these beliefs are prejudices of our early years, as will clearly appear in the sequel. BXVIII. How in these things what we clearly conceive is to be distinguished from that in which we may be de ceived. But that we may distinguish what is clear in our sensa tions from what is obscure, we ought most carefully to observe that wc possess a clear and distinct knowledge of pain, colour, and other things of this sort, when we con sider them simply as sensations or thoughts ; but that, when they arc judged to be certain things subsisting be yond our mind, wo arc wholly unable to form any con ception of them. Indeed, when any one tells us thai he sees' colour in a body or feels pain in one of bis limbs, this is exactly the same as if he said tliat he there, saw or felt something of the nalure of which be was entirely ignorant, or that lie did not know what he saw or felt. For although, when less altenlively examining bis thoughts, a person may easily persuade himself that ho has some knowledge of it, since he supposes that there is something resembling that sensation of colour or of pain of wliich he is conscious! yet, if he reflects on what the sensation of colour or pain represents to him as existing in a coloured body or in a wounded member, he will find that of such he has abso lutely no knowledge. BXIX. That magnitude, figure, etc., are known far differently from colour, pain, etc. What we have said above will be more manifest, espe cially if we consider that size in thc body perceived, figure, motion (at least local, for philosophers by fancying other kinds of motion have rendered its nature less intelligible to themselves), the situation of parts, duration, number. and those oilier properties which, as we have already said! we clearly perceive in all bodies, are known by us in a way altogether different from that in which wc know-.vh.it colour is in the same body, or pain, smell, taste, or any other of those properties which I have said above must bo referred to thc senses. For although when wc see a body we are not less assured of its existence from its appearing figured than from its appearing coloured,* we yet know°with far greatcr^clearness its property of figure than its colour. BXX. That we may judge of sensible things in two ways, by the one of which we avoid error, by the other fall into it. It is thus manifest that to say we perceive colours in objects is in reality equivalent fo saying we perceive, some thing in objects and arc yet ignorant of what it is. except as that which determines in us a certain highly vivid and clear sensation, which wc call the sensation of colours. 'There is, however, very great diversity in (he manner of judging; for so long as we simply judge that there is an imknowiAso, no thing in objects (that is, in things such as tiiey are, from 'by the colour we pcrceCc on nceasiou ol'lt."- F;,;k. U2G THE PRINCIPLES OF PHILOSOPHY. which tlie sensation reached us), so far are we from falling into error that, on the contrary, we thus rather provide against it, for we are less apt to judge rashly of a thing which wc observe we do not know. But when we think we perceive colours in objects, although we aro in reality ignorant, of what we then denominate colour, and are unable to conceive any resemblance between the colour we suppose to bo in objects, and that of which we are con scious iu sensation, yet because we do not observe this, or because there arc in objects several properties, as size, figure, number, etc., which, as we clearly know, exist, or may exist in them as they are perceived by our senses or conceived by our understanding, wc easily glide into the error of holding that what is called colour in objects is something entirely resembling the colour we perceive, and thereafter of supposing that Ave have a clear perception of what is in no way perceived by us. BXXI. That the chief cause of our errors is to be found in the prejudices of our childhood. And here we may notice the first and chief cause of our errors. In early life the mind was so closely bound to the body that it attended to nothing beyond tbe thoughts by which it perceived the objects that made impression on the body : nor as yet did it refer these thoughts to anything existing beyond itself, but simply felt pain when the body was hurt, or pleasure when anything beneficial to the body occurred, or if the body was so slightly affected lhat it was neither greatly benefited nor hurl, the mind experienced the .sensations we call tasles, smells, sounds, heat, cold, light, colours, and thc like, which in truth are representative of nothing existing out of our mind, and which vary according to the diversities of the parts and modes in which the body is aliened* The mind at (he same lime also perceived "which vary aeeoi'duiy to Iho diversities of tho movements that pa.,s from all .,-uU ol' our body to the part of the brain to wliich it (Ihe mi, nl) is elosel) joined aud unilcd." — French. magnitudes, figures, motions, and the like, which were not presented to it as sensations but as things of the modes of things existing, or at least capable of existing out of thought, although it did not yet observe this difference between these two kinds of perceptions. And afterwards when the machine of the body, which has been so fabri cated by nature- that it can of its own inherent power move itself in various ways, by turning itself at random on every side, followed after what was useful and avoided what was detrimental ; the mind, which was closely connected with it, reflecting on thc objects it pursued or avoided, remarked, for the first time, that they existed out of itself, and not only attributed to them magnitudes, figures, motions, ami thc like, wliich it apprehended either as things or as the modes of things, but, in addition, attributed to them tastes, odours, and the other ideas of that serf, the sensations of which were caused by itself;* and as it only considered other objects in so far as they were useful to the body, in which it was immersed, it judged that there was greater or less reality in each object, according as flic impressions it caused on the body were more or less powerful. Hence arose the belief that there was more substance or body in rocks and metals than in air or water, because the mind perceived in them more hardness and weight. Moreover, the air was thought to be merely nothing so long as we experienced no agitation of it by the wind, or did not feel it hot or cold. And because (ho stars gave hanllv more light than the slender flames of candles, we siippesed that each star was but of this size. Again, since the mind did not observe that the earth moved on its axis, or that its superficies was curved like that of a globe, it was on that account more ready to judge the earth immoveable and its surface flat. And our mind has been imleied from on- iufancy with a thousand other prejudices of the. same soil * "which it perceived on occasion of them "p. ,«., of external ehp ct-j — French. 228 thi: pkinoiit.es of philosophy. wliich afterwards in our youth we forgot wc had accepted without sufficient examination, and admitted as possessed of thc highest truth and clearness, as if they had been known by means of our senses, or implanted in us by nature. LXXII. That the second cause of our errors is that wo cannot forget these prejudices. And although now in our mature years, when the mind, being no longer wholly subject lo the body, is not in the habit of referring all things to il, but also seeks to discover the truth of things considered in themselves, we observe the falsehood ol' u great many ol' the judgments we had before lonneil ; yet wc experience a difficulty in expunging them from our memory, and, so long as they remain there, they give rise to various errors. Thus, for example, since from our earliest years we imagined the stars to be of very small size, we find it highly difficult to rid ourselves of this imagination, although assured by plain astronomical reasons that they arc of the greatest, — so prevailing is the power of preconceived opinion, LXXIII. The third cause is, that we become fatigued by attending to those objects wliich are not present to the senses ; and that we are thus accustomed to judge of these not from present perception but from pre-conceived opinion. Besides, our mind cannot attend to any object without at length experiencing some pain and fatigue ; and of all objects it has the greatest difficulty in attending to thoso which are present neither to the senses nor to the imagina tion : whether for fhe reason that this is natural to it from its union villi the body, or because in our early years, boing occupied merely with perceptions and imaginations, it has become more familiar with, and acquired greater facility in thinking in those modes than in any other. Hence it also happens that many arc unable to conceive any sub stance except what is imaginable and corporeal, and even sensible. For they are ignorant of the circumstance, that those objects alone are imaginable which consist, in exten sion, motion, and figure, while there arc many others besides these that are intelligible ; and they persuade them selves that nothing can subsist but bod)-, find, finally, that there is no body which is not sensible. And since in truth wc perceive no object such as it is by sense alone Quit only by our reason exercised upon sensible objects^], as will hereafter bo clearly shown, it thus happens that the majority during life perceive nolhing unless in a confused way. LXXIV. The fourth source of our errors is, that wc attach our thoughts to words which do noL express them with accuracy. Finally, since for the use of speech we attach all our conceptions to words b}r which to express them, and com mit to memory our thoughts in connection with these terms, and as we afterwards find it more eas}' to recall the words than the things signified by them, we can scarcely conceive anything with such distinctness as to separate entirely what we conceive from tho words that were selected to express it. On this account the majority attend to words rather than to things ; and thus very frequently assent to terms without attaching to them any ineaninc, either because they think they once understood them, or imagine they received them from others by whom they were correctly understood. 'This, however, is not thc place to treat of this matter in detail, seeing the nature of the human body has not yet been expounded, nor the existence even of body established ; enough, nevertheless, appears to have been said to enable one to distinguish such of our conceptions os aro clear and distinct from those that aro obscure and confused. LXXV Summary of what must be observe! iu order to philosophize correctly. Wherefore if wc would philosophize in earner;, and eive 230 TIIK PIUNCIPLES OF PHILOSOPHY. ourselves to the search after all tho truths we are capable, of knowing, we must, in the first place, lay aside our pre judices ; in other words, we must take care scrupulously to withhold our assent from the opinions we have formerly admitted, until upon new examination we discover that they are true. "We must, in the next place, make an orderly review of the notions we have in our minds, and hold as true all and only those which we will clearly and distinctly apprehend. In this way we will observe, first of all, that we exist in so far as it is our nature to think, and at tlie same time that there is a God upon whom we depend ; and after considering his attributes we will be able to inxesiigate the truth of all other things, since God is the cause of them. Besides the notions we have of God and of our mind, we will likewise find that we possess the knowledge of many propositions which are eternally true, as, for example, that nothing cannot be the cause of any thing, etc. We will farther discover in our minds the knowledge, of a corporeal or extended nature that may be moved, divided, etc., and also of certain sensations that affect us, as of pain, colours, tastes, etc., although we do not yet know the cause of our being so affected ; and, comparing what we have now learned, by examining those things m their order, with our former confused knowledge of them, we will acquire the habit of forming clear and distinct conceptions of all the objects we are capable of knowing. In these few precepts seem to me to be comprised thc most general and important principles of human knowledge. BXXVI. Tliat we ought to prefer the Divine authority to our perception :* but that, apart, from things revealed, we ought to assent to nothing that wc do not clearly appre hend. Above all, we must impress on our memory the infallible ' " reasonings." — French 231 rule, that what God has revealed is incomparably more certain than anything else ; and that we ought to submit our belief to the Divine authority rather than to our own judgment, even although perhaps the light of reason should, with the greatest clearness and evidence, appear to suggest to us something contrary to what is revealed, But in things regarding which there is no revelation, it is by no means consistent with the character of a philosopher to accept as true what he has not ascertained to be such, and to trust more to the senses, in other words, to tlie incon siderate judgments of childhood than to the dictates of mature reason. * 23; THE PIUNCIPLES OF P1I1LOSO I'll V. TART II. OK TIIK PUINCIl'LKS 01" MATKUTAL TIIINOB. I. Tin-, grounds on which the existence of material things may be known -will, cerlainly, Allhougb wc are all sufficiently persuaded of tho exist ence of material things, yet, since this was before called in question by us, and since we reckoned the persuasion of their existence as among the prejudices of our childhood, it is now necessary for us to investigate the grounds on which this truth may be known with certainty. In- the first place, then, it cannot be doubted that every percep tion wc have comes to us from some object different from our mind ; for it is not in our power to cause ourselves to experience one perception rather than another, the percep tion being entirely dependent on tho object which affects our senses. It may, indeed, be matter of inquiry whether. that object, be God, or something different from God ; but because we perceive, or rather, stimulated by sense, clearly and distinctly apprehend, certain matter extended in length, breadth, and thickness, the various parts of which have different figures and motions, and give rise to the sensa tions we have of colours, smells, pain, etc., God would, without question, deserve to be regarded as a deceiver, if he directly and of himself presented to our mind the idea of ibis extended matter, or merely caused it to be pre sented to us by some object wliich possessed neither extension, figure, nor motion. For we clearly conceive this matter as entirely distinct from God, and from our. PAUT II. selves, or our mind ; and appear even clearly lo discern that the idea of it is formed in us on occasion of objects existing out of our minds, to which it is in every respect similar. But since God cannot deceive us, for this is repugnant to his nature, as has been already remarked, we must unhesitatingly conclude that there exists a certain object extended in length, breadlh, and thickness, and possessing nil those properties wliich we clearly apprehend to belong to what is extended. And this extended sub stance is what wo call body or matter. II. How we likewise know that the human body is closely connected with the mind. We ought also to conclude lhat a certain body is more closely united to our mind than any other, because we clearly observe that pain and other sensations affect us without our foreseeing them ; and these, the mind is con scious, do not arise from itself alone, nor pertain to it, in so far as it is a thing which thinks, but only in so for as it is united to another thing extended and moveable, which is called the human body. But this is not tbe place to treat in detail of this matter. III. That thc perceptions of thc senses do not teach us what is in reality in things, but what is beneficial or hurt ful to the composite whole of mind and body. It will be sufficient to remark that the perceptions of the senses are merely to bo referred to this intimate union of the human body and mind, and that they usually make us aware of what, in external objects, may be useful or adverse to this union, but do not, present to us these objects as they a^e in themselves, unless occasionally and by acci dent. For, after this observation, we will without difficulty lay aside thc prejudices of the senses, and will have recourse to our understanding alone on this question, b-- refiecting carefully on the ideas implanted in ii, by nature. IV. That the nature of body consists not in weight, hardness, colour, and tho like, but in extension alone. 234 THE PRINCIPLES OF PHILOSOPHY. In this way we will discern that the nature of matter or body, considered in general, does not consist in its being hard, or jionderous, or coloured, or that which affects our senses in any other way, but simply in its being a substanco extended in length, breadth, and depth. For, with respect to hardness, we know nothing of it by sense farther than that the parts of bard bodies resist the motion of our bands on coming inlo contact with them ; but if every time our hands moved towards any part, all the bodies in that place receded as quickly as our hands approached, we should never feel hardness ; and yet we havo no reason to believe that bodies which might thus recede would on this account lose that which makes them bodies. Tho nature of body docs not, therefore, consist in hardness. In the same way, it may be shown that weight, colour, and all the other qualities of this sort, which are perceived in corporeal matter, may be taken from it, itself meanwhile remaining entire : it thus follows that the nature of body depends on none of these. V. That the truth regarding the nature of body is obscured by the opinions respecting rarefaction and a vacuum with which we aro pre-occupiod. There still remain two causes to prevent its being fully admitted that the true nature of body consists in extension alone. The first is tlie prevalent opinion, that most bodies admit of being so rarefied and condensed that, when rare- tied, they have greater extension than when condensed ; and some even have subtilized to such a degree as to make a distinction beiwcen the substance of body and its quan tity, and between quantity itself and extension. The second cause, is this,, tb.-it where we conceive only extension in length, breadth, and depth, wc arc not in the habit of saying that, body is there, but only space and further void space, which, die generality believe to be a mere negation. VI, In what way rarefaction takes place. But with regard to rarefaction and condensation, who- part n. 235 ever gives his attention to his own thoughts, and admits nothing of which he is not clearly conscious, will not suppose that there is anything in thoso processes further than a change of figure in the body rarefied or condensed : so that, in other words, rare bodies are those between tho parts of which there are numerous distances filled with other bodies ; and dense bodies, on the other hand, those whose parts approaching each other, either diminish these distances or take them wholly away, in the latter of wliich cases the body is rendered absolutely dense. The body, however, when condensed, has not, therefore, less exten sion than when the parts embrace a greater space, owing to their removal from each other, and their dispersion into branches. For we ought not to attribute to it the exten sion of the pores or distances which its parts do not occupy when it is rarefied, but to the other bodies that till these interstices ; just as when we see a sponge full of water or any other liquid, we do not suppose that each part of the sponge has on this account greater extension than when compressed and dry, but only that its pores arc wider, and therefore that the body is diffused over a larger space. VII. That rarefaction cannot be intelligibly explained unless in the way here proposed. And indeed I am unable to discover the force of the reasons which have induced some to say that rarefaction is the result of the augmentation of tlie quantity of bodv. rather than to explain it on the principle, exemplified fo the ease of a sponge. For although when air or water are rarefied we do not sec any of the pores that are ren dered largs, or the new body that is added to occupy them. it is yet less agreeable to reason to suppose something that is unintelligible for the purpose of giving a vei bal am! merely apparent explanation of fhe, rareeiction of bodies, than to conclude, because of their rarefaction, that there arc pores or distances between tho parts which are increased in size, and filled with some new body. Xor 2.3G THE PRINCIPLES OF PHILOSOPHY, ought we to refrain from assenting to this explanation, because we perceive this new body by none of our senses, for there is no reason which obliges us to believe that we should perceive by our senses all the bodies in existence. And we see that it is very easy to explain rarefaction in this manner, but impossible in any other; for, in fine, there would be, as appears to me, a manifest contradiction in supposing that any body was increased by a quantity or extension which it had not before, without the addition to it of a now extended substance, in other words, of another body, because it is impossible, to conceive any addition of extension or quantity to a thing without supposing tbe addition ol a substance basing quaidily or extension, as will more clearly appear from what follows. VIII. That quantity and number differ only in thought (rationc) from that which has quantity and is numbered. For quantity differs from extended substanco, and num ber from what is numbered, not in reality but merely in our thought; so that, for example, we may consider the whole nature of a corporeal substance which is comprised in a space of ten feet, although we do not attend to this measure of ten feet, for the obvious reason that the thing conceived is of thc same nature in any part of that space as in tbe whole ; and, on the other hand, we can conceive the number ten, as also a continuous quantity of ten feet, without thinking of this determinate substance, because the concept of the number ten is manifestly the same whether we consider a number of ten feet or ten of anything else ; aud we can conceive a continuous quantity of ten feet without thinking of this or that determinate substance, although wo cannot conceive it without some extended substance of which it is the quantity. It is in reality, liowever, impossible that any, even tho least part, of such quantity or extension, can be taken away, without the rcirer.chment at the same time of as much of the substance, nor, on the. other hand, ca.n we lessen the substance, with out at the same time taking as much from the quantify or extension. IX. That corporeal substance, when distinguished from its quantity, is confusedly conceived as something in corporeal. Although perhaps some express themselves otherwise on this matter, I am nevertheless convinced that they do not think differently from what I havo now said : for when they distinguish (corporeal) substance from extension or quantity, they either mean nothing by the word (corporeal) substance, or they form in their minds merely .„ confused idea of incorporeal substance, which ihey falsely attribute to corporeal, and leave lo extension the true idea oi this corporeal substance ; which extension they call an accident, but with such impropriety as to make it easy to discover that their words arc not in harmony with their thoughts. X. What space or internal place is. Space or internal place, and the corporeal substance which is comprised in it, arc not different in realitv, but merely in the mode in which they arc wont to be conceived by us. For, in truth, the same extension in length, breadth, and depth, which constitutes space, constitutes body; and the difference between them lies oniy in this, lhat in body wo consider extension as particular,' and con ceive it to change with the body; whereas in space, we attribute to extension a generic unity, so that after tabby from a certain space the body which occupied if. we do not suppose that we have at the same time removed the extension of the space, because it appears to us that thc same extension remains there so long as it is of fhe same magnitude and figure, and preserves the same situation in respect to certain bodies around it, by means of which, we determine this space. XL How space is not in reality different from corporeal substance. And indeed it will bo easy to discern that it is Ihe same 2 D 238 THE PRINCIPLES OF PHILOSOPHY. extension which constitutes the nature of body as of space, and that these two things are mutually diverse only as the nature of the genus and species differs from that of the individual, provided wc reflect on tho idea we have of any bod}', taking a stone for example, and reject all that is not essential to tho nalure of body. In the first place, then, hardness may bo rejected, because if the stone were liquefied or reduced to powder, it would no longer possess hardness, and. vet would notecase to be a body; colour also may be thrown out, of account, because we have fre quently seen stones so transparent as to have no colour ; again, wc may reject weight, because we. have the case of fire, which, though very lighl, is si ill a body; and, finally, we may reject cold, heat, and all the other qualities of this sort, cither because they aro not considered as in the stone, or because, with the, change of these qualities, thc stone is not supposed to have lost the nature of body. After this examination we will find that nothing remains in the idea of body, except that it. is something extended in length, breadth, and depth ; and this something is comprised in our idea of space, not only of that wliich is full of body, but even of what is called void space. XII. How space differs from body in our mode of con ceiving it. There is, however, some difference between them in the mode of conception ; for if we remove a stone from the space or place in which it was, we conceive that its ex tension also is taken away, because wc regard this as particular, and inseparable from Ihe stone itself: but mean while we suppose that, the same extension of place in which ibis stone was remains, although the place of the stone be occupied by wood, water, air, or by any other bod}', or be even supposed vacant, because wc now consider extension in general, ami think that the. same is common fo sloe,;.-, yeod, water, air, and other bodies, and even to a vacuum itself, if there is any such thing, provided it bo PART II. 23'J of the same magnitude and figure as before, and preserve the same situation among tbe external bodies which deter mine Ibis space. XIII. "What external place, is. The reason of which is, that (he words place and space signify nolhing really different from body which is said to be in place, but merely designate its magnitude, figure, and situation among other bodies. For it is nccessarjCfo order to determine this situation, to regard certain other bodies which wc consider as immoveable; and, according as we, look to different bodies, we may see that the same thing at the same time does and does not change place. For example, when a vessel is being carried out fo -on, a pi r.-oti sitting at Ihe. stern maybe said to remain ab.vavs hi one place, if wc look to tlie purls of the vessel, since with respect to these he preserves tbe same situation ; and on tbe oilier band, if regard be had to the neighbouring shores, thc same person will seem to be perpetually changing place, seeing he is constantly receding from one .shore anil approaching another. And besides, if wo suppose that the earth moves, and that it makes precisely as much way from west to east as thc vessel from east to west, we willAgafo say that the person at thc stern does not change his piaec, because this place will be determined by certain immove able points which wo imagine to be. iu the hea-ens. But if at length wc are persuaded that there are no points rcrdb- immovcable in tho universe., as will hereafter be shown to- be probable, wc will Ibence conclude, that nolhing has a permanent place unless in so far as it is fixed by our thought. "XIV. Wherein place and space differ. The terms place and space, however, differ fo significa tion, because place more expre-ly designates situation than magnitude or figure, while, on the oilier hand, we think of the latter when wc speak of space. For we frequently say that a thing succeeds to the place or another, al(hoii»ii 2-10 Tin; pkincipi.es of philosophy. it be not exactly of the same magnitude or figure; but we do not therefore admit that it occupies the same space as the other; and when the situation is changed wo say that the place also is changed, although there are the same magnitude and figure as before: so that when we say that a thing is in a particular place, we mean merely that it is situated in a determinate way in respect of certain other objects ; and when we add that it occupies such a space or place, we understand besides that it is of such deter minate magnitude and figure as exactly to fill this space. XV. JIow external place is rightly taken for the super ficies of ihe surrounding body. And thus we never indeed distinguish space from ex tension in length, breadth, and depth ; we sometimes, however, consider place as in the thing placed, and at other tones as out of it. Internal place indeed differs in no way from space ; but external place may be taken for the superficies that immediately surrounds the thing placed. It ought to be remarked that by superficies wc do°nothere understand any part of the surrounding body, but only the boundary between the surrounding and surrounded bodies, which is nothing more than a mode ; or at least that we speak of superficies in general which is no part of one body rather than another, but is always considered the same, provided it retain the same magnitude and' figure. For although the whole surrounding body with its superficies were changed, it would not be supposed that the body which was surrounded by it had therefore changed its place, if it meanwbifo preserved the same situation with respect to the other bodies that are regarded as immoveable. Thus, if we suppose that a boat is carried in one direction by the current of a stream, and impelled by the wind in the opposite with an equal force, so that its situation with respect to the banks is not changed, wo will readily admit Hint it remains in the same plAce, although the whole superficies which surrounds it is incessantly changing. 241 XVI. That a vacuum or space in which there is abso lutely no body is repugnant to reason. With regard lo a vacuum, in the philosophical sense of the term, that is, a space in winch tliere is no substance, it is evident that such does not exist, seeing the extension of space or internal place is not different Irom tliat of bodv. For since from this alone, that a body has extension in length, breadth, and depth, we have reason to conclude that it is a substance, it being absolutely contradictory that nolhing should possess extension, we ought to form a similar inference regarding ihe space wliich is suppo.-ed void, viz., that, since tliere is extension in it there is neces sarily also substance. XVII. That a vacuum in thc ordinary use of the term does not exclude all body. And, in truth, by the term vacuum in its common use, we do not mean a place or space in which there is abso lutely nothing, but only a place in which there is none ot those things we presume ought to be there. Tims, because a pitcher is made to hold water, it is said to be empty when it is merely filled with air ; or if there are no fish in a fish-pond, we say tliere is nothing in it, although it be full of water; thus a vessel is said to be empty, when, in place of the merchandise which it was design:.,:! to carry, it is loaded with sand only, to enable it to resist the violence of the wind ; and, finally, it is in the same sense that we say space is void when it contains nothing sensibfo, although it contain created and self-subsisting matter ; for we are not in the habit, of considering the bodies near us, unless in so far as they cause in our organs of sense im pressions strong enough to enable us to perceive them. And if, in place of keeping in mind what ought to be understood by these terms a vacuum and nothing, we afterwards suppose that in the space we called a va'miim, there is not only no sensible object, but no object at all, wo will fall into the same error as if, because a fotcher in 21: THK PKINCIPLKS OF PHILOSOPHY. which there is nothing but oi,- iV ;„ ,,„ , , """o out, nn, is ni common sneocb sibl be empt,., we were therefore to judge that the a r el. tamed m it )S not a substance (res subsisted). XVIII How the prejudice of an absolute vacuum is to be corrected. We have ahnos! all fallen into (his error from the car- .est age, hr, observing lh:lt |llnl.p ;s no nec c_ ;--"-nn V(,ssel and the body if contains, we thought 'hit t;od at least could take from a vessel thc body which 'K'm.pied ,(, without if being necessary that any oilier *'." "Mile put m,ho phmc. of (he one. removed. Ibif (foot «'e may be able now to correct this fidse opinion, if is necessary to remark l!,a( there is in trull, no connection 7W7 ' ; V">Gl a"d thc P;»"^ular body which it con- ams, but fhe. (hero is an absolutely necessary connection "e.ween the concave figure of the vessel and the extension considered gonerfoly which must bo comprised in this cavity ; so that ,t is not more contradictory to conceive -, nioimfau, without a valley than such a cavity without the exfens,,,,, ,l contains, or this extension apart from an extended stfotar.ee, for, as we have often said, of nothing 7'''\ Can b" nn l'xtc™""- And accordingly, if it be as.l.ei, what woubl happen were God to remove from a VCS'*' a" '7 My Cf>,lfi»n^ i» h, without permitting another bod.y to occupy its place, the answer must be that , * °' ll!P Vl'SWl WO,,1,1 ,,lus comn i1110 1'roxi.nity with e;U''1 °.flK'1'- V'" ('"'0 ''"'lies must touch each other when there is nothing between them, and it is manifestly con- iradietory lor two bodies lo be apart, in other words", that thero should be a dislance between them, and Ibis dislance yet be nolhing ; for all distance is a mode of extension, and cannoUherclbre exist without an extended substance. XIX. Thai this confirms what was said of rarefaction. After we have (bus remarked that (he nalure of corporeal substance cnsbis only in its being an extended thing, and font its extension is not different from that which we'atlri- PAirr ii. 2 13 bote to space, however empty, it is easy to discoi r-v (be impossibility of any one of its parts in any way whafocw- occupying more space at one time than at, aAotfo r and thus of be,ng otherwise rarefied than m the way evphbofo above ; and it is easy to pcrecfoe also that there cannot be more mailer or body in a vessel when it js tided Mill, }, „q "rgold, or any oilier body however heavy and hard, (lem when it but contains a,'r and is supposed (A be empty ¦ ror Mm quantity of Ihe parls ol which ., body is composed does not depend on (heir weight, or hanfocA. but only on (he extension, which is always equal in the same y;l:A. XX. That from this the non-existence of' aloms mav likewise be demonslraled. Wo likewise discover (hat there cannot exist anv alori^ or parls of matter that are of their own naturo indivhilfo For liowever small wc suppose these parts to be v,.t because they are necessarily extended, we are ab.vav, Afo m thought to divide any one of them into two or more •smaller parts, and may accordingly admit fheirdivi fofofo- bor there is nothing we can divide in thomfot which we do not lhercbyrecogni.se to be divisible; and, tforefb-e v-ei-e wc to judge if indivisible our judgment would not" be in harmony with, (he knowledge wc have of the flfom . and although we should even suppose that (food had reduced any particle of matter to a smallness so extreme that it did not admit of being further divided it. w„„ld nevertheless be improperly styled indivisible, for tboufo, (,od bad rendered fhe particle so small that it „,,, not 'in the power of any creature to divide it, be cefod not how ever deprive himself of the ability fo do so, «\,„.0 U j, absolutely impossible for him to lessAi his own omninoi,,^ as was before observed. Wherefore, absolutely .,'.,. .- ;„A the smallest extended particle is always divi.-.frv/.-in, e P is such of its very nature. XXI. It is thus also demonstrated that the extension of -tho world is indefinite. •-Id -CUE PRINCIPLES OP PHILOSOPHY. We further discover that this world or the whole (unwersitas) of corporeal substance, is extended without hunt, for wherever we fix a limit, wc still not only imagine beyond it spaces indefinitely extended, but perceive these to be truly imaginable, in other words, to be in reality such as we imagine them ; so that they contain in them cor poreal substance indefinitely extended, for, as has been already shown at length, the idea of extension which we conceive in any space whatever is plainly identical with the idea of corporeal substance. XXII. It also follows that the matter of the heavens and earth is the same, and that there cannot be a plurality of worlds. And it may also be easily inferred from all this that the earth and heavens are made of the same matter; and that even although there were an infinity of worlds, they would all be composed of this matter ; from which it follows that a plurality of worlds is impossible, because we clearly conceive that the matter whose nature consists only in its being an extended substance, already wholly occupies all thc imaginable spaces where these other worlds could alone be, and we cannot find in ourselves the idea of any other matter. XXIII. That all the variety of matter, or the diversity of its forms, depends on motion. There is therefore but one kind of matter in the whole universe, and this we know only by its being extended. All tho properties we distinctly perceive to belong to it are reducible to its capacity of being divided and moved according to its parts; and accordingly it is capable of all ibosc affections which wo perceive can arise from the. motion of its parts. For the partition of matter in thought makes no change in if; but all variation of if, or diversity of form, depends on motion. The philosophers even seem universally to have observed this, for they said that nature was the principle of motion and rest, and by nature they PAltT 11. 2-15 understood that by wliich all corporeal things become such as they are found in experience. XXIV. What motion is, taking the term in its common use. But motion (viz., local, for I can conceive no other kind of motion, and therefore I do not think we ought to suppose there is any other in nature), in the ordinary sense ol the term, is nothing more than the action by vddch a body passes from one place to another. And just as we have remarked above that the same thing may be said to change and not to change place at the same lime, so also we may say that the same thing is at the same time moved and not moved. Thus, for example, a person seated in a vessel which is setting sail, thinks he is in motion if he look to the shore that he has left, and consider it as fixed ; but not if bo regard the ship itself, among the parts of which he pre serves always the same situation. Moreover, because we are accustomed to suppose that there is no motion without action, and that in rest there is the cessation of action, the person thus seated is more properly paid to be at rest than in motion, seeing he is not conscious of being in action. XXV. What motion is properly so called. But if, instead of occupying ourselves with that which has no foundation, unless in ordinary usage, we desire to know what ought to be understood by motion according to the truth of the thing, wc may say, in order to give it a determinate nature, that it is the transporting of one part oj matter or of one body from the vicinity of those bodies that are in immediate contact with it, or which we regard as at rat,'' to the vicinity of other bodies. By a body as a part of matter, I understand all that wliich is transferred together, although it, be perhaps composed of several parts, which in them selves have other motions ; and I say that it is the trans porting and not thc force or action wliich transports, with the view of showing that motion is always in (bo moveable thing, not in that which moves ; for it seems to me that 246 THE pkincipi.es op philosophy. we are not accustomed to distinguish these two things with sufficient accuracy. Farther, I understand that it is a mode of the moveable thing, and not a substance, just as figure is a property of the thing figured, and repose of that which is at rest. 21? FART III. of Tin? visiunn vvoniji. I. That, wc cannot think too highly of Ihe works of God. Having now ascertained certain principles of material things, which were sought, not by the prejudices of the senses, but b)r the light of reason, and which thus possess so great evidence that we cannot doubt of their truth, it remains for us to consider whether from these alone we can deduce the explication of all the phenomena of nature. We will commence with those phenomena that are of tbe greatest generality, and upon which the others depend, as, for example, with the general structure of this whole visible world. But in order to our philosophising aright re garding this, two things arc first of all to be observed, The first is, that wc sliould ever bear in mind the infinity of thc power and goodness of God, that we may not fear falling into error by imagining his works to be too great, beautiful, and perfect, but that we may, on thc contrary, take care lest, by supposing limits to them of which wc have no certain knowledge, we appear to think less highly than wc ought of the power of God. II. That we ought to beware lest, in our picsumption, wc imagine that the ends which God proposed lo himself in the creation of the world are understood by us. The seer, ml is, that we should beware of pre-eifono- too highly of ourselves, as it seems we should do if we supposed certain limits to the world, without being assured of their 2-1S THE PRINCIPLES OP PHILOSOPHY. existence either by natural reasons or by divine revelation a if the power of our thought extended^eyond w ha! G d' nr^v^K;,-b,,t ,i!"°Wi8C Stm ra01'e " W° ^ ' 01 selves that all things were created by God for us only, o i we merely supposed that we could comprehend by o him f ^ imdIeCt th° C"dS w,,ich God P-P°se to himseff m creating thc universe, HI. In what sense it may be said that all things were created for the sake of man. For although, as far as regards morals, it may be a pious thought to behove that God made all things for us, s Lin* -o may flu,, be incited to greater gratitude and love to! -ard hue, ; and although it is even in some sense true, because there is no created thing of which we cannot make some use, frit, be only that of exercising our mind in con sidering ,t, mm honouring God on account of it, it is yet by no means probable that all things were created for us in Ins way that, God had no other end in their creation; and tms supposition would be plainly ridiculous and inept in Physical reasoning, for we do not doubt but that many things exist, or formerly existed and have now ceased to be, which were never seen or known by man, and were never ot fee (o him. PART IV. 219 part iv; OF THE EARTH. _ CLXXXVIH. Of what is to be borrowed from disqui- sitions on animals and man to advance the knowledge 0f material objects. I sliould add nothing farther to this the Ifounb Bart of the Principles of Philosophy, did I purpose can-form out my original design of writing a Fifth and Sixth Part foe one treating of things possessed of life, that is, anima's'and plants, and the other of man. But because I have rot -et acquired sufficient knowledgo of all the matters of which I should desire to treat in these two last parts and do no* know whether I ever shall have sufficient leisure to finish them, I will hero subjoin a few tilings rogerrfrm (he object of our senses, that I may not, for Ihe sake nf the hitler delay too long tho publication of the former parts ,„¦ Q( what may be desiderated in them, which I mi, hi h -Vn ,- / served for explanation in those others : fo,- I have hitherto described this earth, and generally the wholo visible world as if ,t were merely a machine in which there was nollfoo- at all to consider except the figures and motions fo it! parts, whereas our senses present to us many office thfo,,< for example colours, smells, sounds, and the like, of which' if I did not speak at all, it would be (bought I had omitted the explication of the majority of the objects that are in nature. CBXXXIX. What perception (smsns) is. and how we perceive. Wc must know, tliererore, that although tho human soul 2.-50 THE ntlNCIPLES OP PHILOSOPHY. is united to the wholo body, it has, nevertheless, its principal seat in tho brain, where alone it not only understands and imagines, but also perceives; and this by the medium of the nerves, which are extended like threads from the brain to all the other members, with which they are so connected that wo can hardly touch any ono of thorn without moving the extremities of some of the nerves spread over it; and this motion passes to the other extremities of those nerves which arc collected in the brain round the. seat oi the soul,* as I have, already explained with sufficient minuteness in the fourth chapter of the Dioptrics. But thc move ments which are thus excited in the brain by tbe nerves, variously affect, thc soul or mind, wliich is intimately con joined with fhe brain, according to the diversity of the motions themselves. And the diverse affections of tho mmd or thoughts that immediately arise from these motions, are called perceptions of the senses (sensuum per- ceptwnes), or, as wo commonly speak, sensations (sensu.s). GXC. Of the distinction of the senses; and, first, of the infernal, that is, of the affections of the mind (passions), and the natural appetites. ^ Tbe varieties of these sensations depend, firstly, on the diversity of tbe nerves themselves, and, secondly, of the movements that are made in each nerve. We have not, however, as many different senses as there are nerves! We can distinguish but seven principal classes of nerves, of which two belong to the internal, and the other five to the external senses. The nerves which extend to the stomach, the oesophagus, the fauces, and tbe other in ternal parts that are subservient to our natural wants, constitute one of our internal senses. This is called the natural appetite (apprtitus naluralis). Thc other internal sense, which embraces all the emotions (commotiones) of the mind or passions, and affections, as joy, sadness, love, " common sense."— French PART IV. 251 hate, and the like, depends upon the nerves which extend to the heart and the parts about tho heart, and are ex ceedingly small ; for, by way of example, when thc blood happens to be pure and well tempered, so that it dilate.- in the heart more readily and strongly than usual, tbi, s0 enlarges and moves the small nerves scattered around the orifices, that, there is thence a corresponding movement in the brain, which affects (he mind willi a certain mumfo feeling of joy ; and as often as these same nerves are moved in the same way, although (his is by other causes, (hey excite in our mind the same feeling (se.nsus, sentiment). Thus, tho imagination of the enjoyment of a good does not contain in itself the. feeling of "joy, but it ceruses the animal spirits to pass from the brain to the mii-cbs in which these nerves are inserted; and thus dilating tbe orifices of the heart, it also causes these small nerves to move in tbe way appointed by nature to afford the. sensa tion of joy. Thus, when we receive news, the mind first of all judges of it, and if the news be. good, if rejoices with that intellectual joy (ga.ud.ium intellect uale) which is inde pendent of any emotion (commotio) of the body, and which the Stoics did not deny to their wise man [altboufoi they supposed him exempt from all passion]. But as loon As this joy passes from the understanding to the. imafonation the spirits flow from the brain to tbe muscles "hat 7 about the heart, and there excite tbe motion of tbe small nerves, by means of which another motion is caused in (be brain, which affects the mind with the sensation of animal joy (laetitia animalis). On the same principle, when Dm blood is so thick that it flows but sparingly i„;0 the ven tricles of the heart, and is not tliere sufficiently dilated it excites in the same nerves a motion quite dbforenl from tbe preceding, which, communicated to ihe brain, -ives to the mmd the sensation of sadness, although the mind itself is perhaps ignorant of the cause of its sadness. And all the other causes which move these nerves in the same wav THE PRINCIPLES OF PHILOSOPHY. may also give to the mind the same sensation. But the other movements of the same nerves produce other effects, as the feelings of love, bate, fear, anger, etc., as far as they aro merely affections or passions of the mind ; in other words, as far as they arc confused thoughts which the mind has not from itself alone, but from its being closely joined to the body, from which it receives impressions ; for there is the widest difference between these passions and thc distinct thoughts which we have of what ought to be loved, or chosen, or shunned, etc., [although these are often enough found together]. The natural appetites, as hunger, thirst, and the others, are likewise sensations excited in tho mind by means of the nerves of the stomach, fauces, and other parts, and are entirely different from thc will which wo have to eat, drink, [fond to do all that which we think proper for tho conservation of our body] ; but, because this will or appetition almost always accompanies them, they are therefore named appetites. CXCI. Of the external senses ; and first of touch. We commonly reckon the external senses five in number, because there are as many different kinds of objects which move the nerves and their organs, and an equal number of kindsof confused thoughts excitedin the soul by these motions. In tbe first place, the nerves terminating in the skin of the whole body can be touched through this medium by any terrene objects whatever, and moved by these wholes, in one way by their hardness, in another by their gravity, in a third by their boat, in a fourth by their humidity, etc. — and in as many diverse modes as they are cither moved. or hindered from their ordinary motion, to that extent are diverse sensations excited in the mind, from which a cor responding number of tactile qualities derive their appella tions. Besides this, when these nerves are moved a little more powerfully than usual, but not nevertheless to the degree by which our body is in any way hurt, there thus arises a sensation of titillation, which is naturally agreeable PART IV. 253 to tbe mind, because it testifies to it of the powers of the body with which it is joined, [in that the latter can suffer the action causing this titillation, without being hurl]. But if this action be strong enough to hurt our body in nny way, this gives to our mind the sensation of pain. And we thus sec why corporeal pleasure and pain, although sensations of quite an opposite character, arise nevertheless from causes nearly alike. CXCII. Of taste. In the second place, the other nerves scattered over the tongue and the parts in its vicinity arc diversely moved by the particles of thc same bodies, separated from each other and floating in the saliva in the mouth, and (bus entire sensations of diverse tastes according to the diversity of figure in these particles.* CXCIII. Of smell. Thirdly, two nerves also or appendages of the brain, for they do not go beyond the limits of the skull, are moved by the particles of terrestrial bodies, separated and flying in the air, not indeed by all particles indifferently, but by those only that are sufficiently subtle and penetrating to enter the pores of the bone we call tbe, spongy, when drawn .into the nostrils, and thus to reach the nerves. From the different motions of these particles arise the sensations of the different smells. CXCIV. Of hearing. Fourthly, there arc two nerves within the ears, so ..ttaebed to three small bones that are mutually sustaining, and the first of which rests on tho small membrane that covers the cavity we call the tympanum of the ear, that all the. diverse vibrations which the surrounding air communicates to this membrane, are transmitted to the mind by these nerves, and these vibrations give rise, according to their diversity, to the sensations of tho different sounds. " In tli o French this section begins, " Taste, after touch thc firosse ,|^ gangrene having spread, after the expiry of a, few days tbe arm was amputated from fhe elbow [without, the girl's knowledge]; linen cloths lied 0i,u above the. other were substituted in place of the part nmpulalod, so thai she re mained for some time without knowing that the operation bad been performed, and meanwhile she conn, lamed of feeling various pains, sometimes in one finger of' the hand that was cut off, and sometimes in another. The only explanation of this is, that the nerves which before, stretched downwards from the brain to Ihe. hand, aud Inn termi nated in thc arm close to the elbow, were there iroi cd in the same way as they required to be moved before in the hand for the purpose of impressing on '.he mind residing in the brain the sensation of pain in this or that finger. [And this clearly shows that the pain of the hand is not felt by thc mind in so far as it, is in the hand, but in so far as it is in tho brain], CXCVII. That the nature of the mind is such lhat from the motion alone or body the various sensations can be. excited in it. In the next place, it can bo proved (hat our mind is of such a nature that the motions of the body alone are suffi cient to excite in it all sorts of thoughts, vilhout it being necessary that these should in any way resemble >7 motions which give, rise to them, and especially that those motions can excite in it those confused thoughts called sensations (sensus, sensationes). For we see that words, whether ullered by the voice, or merely written, excite in our minds all kinds of thoughts and emo tions. On the same paper, with the same pen end ink. by merely moving the point of the pen over the nmor'in a particular way, Ave can trace. Idlers that will rai-A in the minds of our readers the thoughts of combats, tempests, or 2.5(1 TUli PRINCIPLES OP PHILOSOPHY. tlie furies, and tho passions of indignation and sorrow ; in place of which, if the pen be moved in another way hardly dillerent from the former, this slight change will cause thoughts widely different from the above, such as those of repose, peace, pleasantness, and the quite opposite passions of love, and joy. Some one will perhaps object that writ ing and speech do not immediately excite in tho mind any passions, or imaginations of things dillerent from the letters and sounds, but afford simply tho knowledge of these, on occasion of which the mind, understanding the significa tion of the words, afterwards excites in itself the imagina tions and passions that correspond to thc words. But what will be said of ihe sensalions of pain and titillation ? Tbe motion merely of a sword cutting a part of our skin causes pain, [but does not on that account make us aware of the motion or figure of the sword]. And it is certain that this sensation of pain is not less different from the motion that causes it, or from that of the part of our body which the sword cuts, than are the sensations we have of colour, sound, odour, or taste. On this ground we may conclude that our mind is of such a nature that the motions alone of certain bodies can also easily excite in it all the other sensations, as the motion of a sword excites in it the sen sation of pain. CXCVIII. That by our senses we know nothing of ex ternal objects beyond their figure [or situation], magnitude, aud motion. Besides, we observe no such difference between the nerves as to lead us to judge that one set of them convey to the brain from tbe organs of tbe external senses any thing different from another, or that anything at all reaches the brain besides thc local motion of the nerves themselves. And wc see that local motion alone causes in us not only the sensation of titillation and of pain, but also of light and sounds. For if we receive a blow on Ihe eye of sufficient force to cause the vibration of the stroke to reach the PAItT IV. -Jill retina, we see numerous sparks of fire, wliich, nevertheless, are not out of our eye ; and when wc stop our ear with our finger, wo hear a humming sound, the cause of which can only proceed from the agitation of the air that is shut up within it. Finally, we frequently observe that heat [hardness, weight], and the other sensible qualifies, as for as they are. in objects, and also the forms of (hose bodies that are purely material, as, for example, the forms of tire. are produced in them by the motion of certain oilier bodies, and that thoso iu their turn likewise produce other motions in other bodies. And we can easily conceive bow the motion of one body may be, caused by (ha! of another, and diversified by Ihe size, figure, and situation ol its parts, but we are wholly unable to conceive boxy these same things (viz., size, figure, and motion), can produce some thing else of a nature entirely different from themselves, as, for example, those substantial forms and real qualities which many philosophers suppose to be in bodies ; nor likewise can we conceive how these qualities or forms possess force to cause motions iu other bodies. But .since we know, from the nature or our soul, that the diverse mo tions or body are sufficient fo produce in it all the sensa tions which it has, and since wc learn from experience that several of its sensations are in reality caused by such motions, while we do not discover that anything besides these motions ever passes from the organs of the external senses to the brain, we havo reason to conclude that we in no way likewise apprehend that in external objects, wliich we call light, colour, smell, taste, sound, heat or cold, and (be other tactile qualities, or that which we call their substantia] forms, unless as the various dispositions of these objects which have the powerofonovhigour nerves fo various ways,* CXCIX. That there is no phenomenon of nature, whose explanation has been omitted in this treatise. * "thc diverse figures, situations, ui.ignitudcs, and motions of th-ir fiarts."— French. 258 rni5 PUINCIPLICS op philosophy. And thus it may be gathered, from an enumeration that is easily made, that tliere is no phenomenon of nature whose explanation lias been omitted in this treatise; for beyond what is perceived by the senses, there is nothing that can be considered a phenomenon of nature. But leav ing out of account motion, magnitude, figure, [and the silnalion of the. parts of each body], which I have explained as they exist in body, we perceive nothing out of us by our senses except, light, colours, smells, tastes, sounds, and the tactile, qualities; and these 1 havo recently shown to be nothing- more, at least so far as they are known lo us, than certain dispositions of the objects, consisting in mag nitude, figure, and motion. CC. That this treatise contains no principles wliich are not universally received ; and that this philosophy is not new, but of all others the most ancient and common. But I am desirous also that it sliould be observed that, though I have here endeavoured to give an explanation of the whole nature of material things, I have nevertheless made use. of no principle which was not received and ap proved by Aristotle, and Ivy the other philosophers of all ages ; so that this philosophy, so far from being new, is of all others the most ancient and common : for I have in truth merely considered tlie figure, motion, and magnitude of bodies, and cxan lined what must follow from their mutual con course on the principles of mechanics, which are confirmed by certain and dai!}' experience. But no one ever doubted that bodies are moved, and that they aro of various sizes and figures, according to tho diversity of which their motions also vary, and that from mutual colli sion tho-e sninevbat greater than others aro divided into main- su, idler, and thus change figure. Wo havo experi ence of the tnilb of this, not, merely by a single sense, but by several, as touch, sight, and hearing: wo also distinctly imagine and understand it. This cannot be said of any of the other things that fall under our senses, as colours, PART IV. 259 sounds, and the like ; for each of these affects but one of our senses, and merely impresses upon our imagination a confused image oi foclf, affording our understanding no distinct knowledge of what it is. CCI. That sensible bodies arc composed of insensible particles. But I allow many particles in each body that are. per ceived by none of our senses, and this will not perhaps be approved of by thoso who take the senses for the. measure of the knowable. [We greatly wrong human rcn.-;,n, liowever, as appears to me, if we suppose that it does not go beyond the eye-sight] ; for no one can doubt that there are bodies so Small as not to be perceptible by any of our senses, provided he only consider what is each moment added to those bodies that are boing increased little be little, and what is taken from those that arc diminished in the same way. A tree increases daily, and it is impossible to conceive how it becomes greater than it was before, unless wc at the same time conceive that some body is added to it. But who ever observed by tbe senses those small bodies that arc in one day added to a tree while growing? Among thc philosophers ;nt leas!, those who hold that quantity is indefinitely divisible, ought to admit that in thc division the parts may become so small as to bo wholly imperceptible. Aud indeed it ought not fo be a matter of surprise, that we aro unable lo perceive, very minute bodies; for tbe nerves that must be moved by objects to cause perception are not themselves very minute, but are like small cords, being composed of a. quantity fo smaller fibres, and thus tho most minule bodies, are. not capable of moving them. Nor do I think that anv one who makes use of his reason will deny that we philosophise with much greater truth when we judge ol' what hikes place in those, small bodies which are imperceptible from their minuteness only, aflcr (be annfogv of what, we see occurring in (hose we do pereehe, [and in this way explain 2G0 thu piukcjplks op philosophy. all that is m nature, as I have essayed to do in this treatise], than when we give an explanation of the same things by inventing I know not what novelties, that have no relation to the things we actually perceive, [as first matter, sub stantial forma, and all that grand array of qualities wliich many are in the habit of supposing, each of which it is more difficult to comprehend (ban all that is professed to be explained by means of them]. GGII. That the. philosophy of Ifoinoeritus is not less different, from ours than from the common.* But it may be said that Democritus also supposed cer tain corpuscles lhat were of various figures, sizes, and motions, from the heaping together and mulual concourse ol which all sensible bodies arose ; and, nevertheless, his mode of philosophizing is commonly rejected by all. To this I reply that the philosophy of Democritus was never rejected by any one, because be allowed the existence of bodies smaller than those wc perceive, and attributed to them diverse sizes, figures, and motions, for no one can doubt that there are in reality such, as we have already shown; but it was rejected, in the first, place, because he supposed that these corpuscles were indivisible, on which ground I also reject it ; in the second place, because be imagined there was a vacuum about them, which I show to be impossible; thirdly, because he attributed gravity to these bodies, of which I deny the existence in any body, in so far as a body is considered by itself, because it is a quality that depends on the relations of situation and motion which several bodies bear to each other; and, finally, because he has not explained in particular how all things arose from the concourse of corpuscles alone, or, if be gave this ex planation with regard to a few of them, his whole reason ing was fin- from being coherent, [or such as would warrant us in extending the same explanation to the whole of * " that of Aristotle or the others."— French. part IV. 20 1 nature]. This, at least, is the verdict we must give re garding his philosophy, if we may judge of bis opinions from what has been handed down to us in writing. ] leave it to others to determine whether the philosojihy 1 profess possesses a valid coherency, [and whelicr on its principles we can makc the requisite number of deductions ; and, inasmuch as thc consideration of figure, magnitude! and motion has been admitted by Aristotle and byAdl the others, as well as by Democritus, and since 1 reject, all that the latter has supposed, with this single exception. while I reject generally all that has been supposed by (be others, it is plain that this mode of philosophizing has no more affinity with that of Democritus (ban of any other particular sect]. CCIII. How we may arrive at the knowledge of (he figures, [magnitudes], and motions of tlie insensibleAp articles of bodies. But, since I assign determinate figures, magnitudes, am! motions to the insensible particles of bodies, as if I had seen them, whereas I admit that they do not full under the senses, some one will perhaps demand bow I have come by my knowledge of them. [To this I reply, that I firs: considered in general all the clear and distinct notions of material things that are to be found in our understanding, and that, finding no others except those of figures, magni tudes, and motions, and of tlie rules according to which these three things can be diversified by each other, which rules are the principles of geometry and. mechanics, I judged that all tho knowledge man can have of nature niusA of necessity be drawn from this source; because all the other notions we have of sensible, tilings, as confused and ob scure, can be of no avail in affording us the knowledge of anything out of ourselves, but, mu-t serve rather to im pede it]. Thereupon, taking as my ground of inference the simplest aud best known of the principles tliat, have been implanted in our minds by nature, I considered the 202 THE PPHNCIPLES OP PHILOSOPHY. chief differences that could possibly subsist between the magnitudes, and figures, and situations of bodies insensible on account of their smallness alone, and wdiat sensible effects could be produced by their various modes of coming into contact; and afterwards, when I found like effects in the bodies that, wc perceive by our senses, I judged that they could have been thus produced, especially since no other mode ol explaining them could bo devised. And in this mallet- the example of several bodies made by art was of great service to me : for 1 recognise no difference between these and natural bodies beyond Ibis, that the effects of machines depend for tho most part on the agency ol certain instruments, which, as (hey must bear some, pro portion to the bands of those who make them, are always so large that their figures and motions can be seen ; in place of which, tlie effects of natural bodies almost always depend upon certain organs so minute as to escape our senses. And it is certain tliat all tbe rules of mechanics belong also to physics, of which it is a part or species, [so that all that is artificial is withal natural]: for it is not less natural for a clock, made of the requisite number of wheels, to mark ihe. hours, than for a tree, which has sprung from this or that seed, to produce the fruit peculiar to it. Accordingly, just as those who are familiar with automata, when they are informed of the use of a machine, and see some of its parts, easily infer from these the way in which the others, that are not, seen by them, are made; so from considering the sensible, effects and parts of natural bodies, I have essayed lo determine the character of their causes and insensible parts. CCIV. That, touching the things which our senses do not perceive, it is sufficient to explain how they can be, [and that this is all lhat Aristotle has essayed]. But here, some one will perhaps reply, that although I have "opposed causes which could produce all natural ob jects, wo ought not on this account to conclude thai they part IV, ong were produced by those causes ; for, just as the same arti san can make two clocks, which, though they both equally well indicate the time, and are not different in oiitwaAi appearance, have nevertheless nothing resembiino- fo the composition of their wheels; so doubles.-; the Supremo Maker of tilings, has an infinity of diverse means H his disposal, by each of wliich he could ha-.e made -,11 tlie jhmgs of this world to appear as we see (hem, without it being possible for (ho human mind to know which all these means ho chose to employ. I most freely concede tins; and I behove that I have, done all lhat was required if the causes I have assigned are such lhal (heir eh'eel.- accu rately correspond to all the phenomena of nature, without determining whether it is by these or by others that ffo-y are actually produced. Anrl it will be sufficient for the use of life to know the causes thus imagined, for medicine' mechanics, and in general all the arts to which tbe know ledge of physios is of service, have for their end only those effects that aro sensible, and that are accordiimly" to be reckoned among the phenomena of nature.* Aii'd b-t it should bo supposed that Aristotle did. or professed to V anything more than this, it ought, to be remembered tlmt be himself expressly says, at, the commencement of the seventh chapter of the first book of tbe Metcorofofrc^, that will, regard to things which are not manifest, toAlie senses ],e tlnnks fo adduce sufficient reasons and demonstrate r's r-' them, if be only shows that they may be such as he ex plains them, j- have for their end only to apply certain seiisiM, bodies ,0 ea^ other in such aivay that, in the course of natural causes, certain 7 Bible effects may be produce! ; andue vill heable toaceo,,,;,!,-,, till, ,vX wire, fo- consider!,,, tho series of certain cans,, thcA i Aw ,'A ough false, as ,f they mrc the true, since this scries i, senpAed , '- Inr as far as regards sensible elects."— /-yc„,.A. t 'Ei<; 3! T1?; tS, &<;mS, rH *,Vfl>Vt, ,„„,g.,MV •,..,-. • , , - r *«->. Tj, Mr,,, iik ,,, Tj j„,„j„ i,^iy„hiK u n t.v r.i( ^u;urr A,A A "i A, »5, ,H1 nirm ^„.T„ „y[^„/l£„_ MiTla,{ a 1__,il 2G4 Till.. PKINCIl-l-KS OP PHILOSOPHY. CGV. That nevertheless tliere is a moral certainty that all the things of this world are' such as has been here shown they may be. But nevertheless, that I may not wrong the truth by supposing it less certain than it is, I will here distinguish two kinds of certitude. The first is called moral, that is, a certainly sufficient for the conduct of life, though, if we look to the absolute power of God, what is morally certain may be false. [Thus, those who never visited Home do not doubt that it is a city of Italy, though it might be' that. all from whom they got their information wore deceived]. Again, if any one, wishing to decipher a letter written in Latin characters that arc not placed in regular order, be thinks himself of reading a B wherever an A is found, and a C wherever there is a B, and thus of substituting in place of each letter the one which follows it in tho order of tho alphabet, and if by this means he finds that there are cer tain Latin words composed of these, he will not doubt that the true meaning of the writing is contained in these words, although he may discover this only by conjecture, and al though it is possible that tbe writer of it did not arrange the letters on this principle of alphabetical order, but on some other, and thus concealed another meaning in it : for this is so improbable [especially when the cipher contains a number of words] as to seem incredible. But they who observe bow many things regarding the magnet, fire, and the fabric of tho whole world, are here deduced from a '.-cry small number of principles, though they deemed that I had taken them up at random and without grounds, will yet perhaps: acknowledge that it could hardly hap pen thai, so many things should cohere if these principles were false. CCYT. That wc possess even more than a moral cer tainty of it. Besides, there are some, even among natural, things which we judge to be absolutely certain. [Abso- part iv. "fin lute certainty arises when we judge that it is impossible a tiling can be otherwise than as we think if]. This certainty is founded on thc metaphysical ground, that, as God is supremely good and thc source or all truth, the faculty of distinguishing truth from error which he gave us, cannot be fallacious so long as we use it aright, and distinctly perceive anything by it. Of this character arc the demonstrations of mathematics, thc knowledge that material things exist, and the clear reasonings that arc formed regarding them. The results I have given in this treatise will perhaps be admitted to a place in tbe class of truths that are absolutely certain, if it be considered that they are deduced in a continuous scries from the first and most elementary principles of human knowledge ; especially if it be sufficiently understood that we can perceive no external objects unless some local motion be caused by them in our nerves, and that such motion cannot be caused by the fixed stars, owing to their great distance from us, unless a motion be also produced in them and in the whole heavens lying between them and us: for these points being admitted, all the others, at least the more general doctrines which I have advanced regarding the world or earth [_e. g.. the fluidity of the heavens, Bart III., §. XL VI.], will ap pear to be almost the only possible explanations of thc phenomena they present. CCVII. That, however, I submit all my opinions to the authority of the church. Nevertheless, lest I should presume too far, I affirm no thing, but submit all these my opinions fo tbe authority of the church and the judgment of the more sage; and I desire no one to believe anything I may have said, unless be is constrained to admit it by the force and evidence of reason. APPENDTX. (Froml/ie Reply In the S;;,n,t Objections- latin, 1 070. />;,. SG-'H. French, Hornier. Tom. II., ].],. 7 -1-si.) reasons which establish TttK r..\n,Ti:xcr. ot- eon. .\>;:> Till; DISTINCTION UtrinVKltN TIIK MIND AND UODV Ol' MAN, DISl'OSKI) IN Gini.MCTniCAL OltDICt:. DEFINITIONS. I. Hv the term thought (eogitatin, pettt'e), I eoinprehcnd all that is in us, so that wo are immediately conscious of it. Thii=,.,ll the o],ei,itious of the will, intellect, imagination, and senses, are thought". Bui I have used the word immrdinlrl,/ expressly to e.\eh,do whatever fellow, or de pends upon our thoucdits : for example, udnntnry motion lias, in tnoii, thnneht for its source (principle), but yet it is not itself flmucht. [Tims milking is not a thought, but tho perception or knowledge we have of our walking is.] II. By the word idea I understand that form of any thought, !,-,- the ioimrdiatc pcrc, ption of which I am conscious of that same '.holed, t ; so that I can express nolhing in words, when 1 understand what 1 soy without, making it certain, by this alone, thai I posses the i,!>a of the thing that is sonified by these words. And thus I g-vc the ;,p'i,cliati,,n idea not, to the images alone that are depicted h, the phantasv ; on the contrary, I do not here apply this name to them, iu so f:,v as i]liy „,,. ;„ thc corporeal phant,i«_v, that is to say, in so far as limy ,m. depicts,! in ccrbdn parts of the brain, but only in so far ;,s they inform the uiiml itself, when tin noil towards that part of the brain. III. By the abjretier. reality of nn idea I idlers (and the entity or being of the thing represented by thc idea; in so far as tl.i- entity :< in thc idea; and, in the same nuiiinei-, ,t may be ealie,l ciher an ob,eebv 268 APPENDIX. perfection, or objective artifice, etc. (artificium objeclivum). For all that w-c conceive to be in the objects of the ideas is objectively [or by repre sentation] iu the ideas themselves. IV. The same, things are said to be formally in the objects of thc ideas when they are in them such as wo conceive them; and they are said to be iu the objects eminently when they aro not indeed such as wc conceive, them, but. arc so great that they can supply this defect by ibeir excellence. V. Fverylhing in which there immediately resides, as in a subject, or by which there exists any object wo perceive, that is, any property, or qualify, or attribute of which we have in us n real idea, is railed sub stance. For wo have, no other idea of substance, accurately taken, except that it is a thing in which exists formally or eminently this pro perty or quality which we perceive, or which is objectively in some one of one ideas, since wc are taught by tho natural light that nothing can have no real attribute. Arl. The substance in which thought immediately . .. hies is here called minrl (mens, esprit). I here spcalc, liowever, of mens r..*her than of anima, for the latter is equivocal, being frequently applied vo denote a corporeal object. VII. The substance which is the immediate subject of local exten sion, and of tbe accidents that presuppose this extension, as figure, situation, local motion, etc., is called body. But whether the substance which is called mind be the same with that which is called body, or whether they are two diverse substances, is a question to be hereafter considered. VIII. The substance which we understand to be supremely perfect, and in which wc conceive nothing that involves any defect, or limitation of perfection, is called God. IX. "When we say that some attribute is contained in the nature or concept of a thing, this is the same as if we said that the attribute is true of the thing, or that it may be affirmed of the thing itself. X. Two substances are said to be really distinct, when each of them may exist without the other. POSTULATES. 1st. I request that my readers consider how feeble arc tho reasons that have hitherto led them to repose faith in their senses, and how uncertain arc all the judgments which they afterwards founded on them; and that they will revolve this consideration in their mind so long and so frequently, that, in fine, they may acquire thc habit of no longer trusting so confidently in their senses ; for I hold that this is necessary to render 01,0 capable of apprehending metaphysical truths. 2d. That they consider their own mind, and all those of its attributes of wliich they shall find they cannot doubt, though they may have sup posed that ali they ever received by the senses was entirely false, and that they do not leave off considering it until they have acquired the APPKND1X. 2G9 unow t::7ZZi^Zci and of bcli-- ^ « « — «* - ^rireep^ SHE- jangle that of Km „Zo7ZZ77:^ 7 77 ^ of mmd, the nature of body, and above auAha of tod o J ,f \ beng supremely perfect. And I request then, t„ ohsemc ll,A i ivith truth be affirmed that all these t gs ar i | . " , ' „' early codcc.vo to be contained in thorn : for example, 1 cc A n nature of t hrCea.'S'eS arC c«uaI to "™ "tfht angles, and that in the natuie of body or of an extended thing, d,visibilitv is Amnrised ,,„•¦ we 0 not conceive any extend,,, thing so small thAt we cannot 7 7, at least ,11 thought}-,,, is true that the three angles „f a reetilinea oth. lhat they dwell much and loi,K on (he c,„lt ' ,p,ti„n of , urreme.y perfect Being, and, atuong other things, ,,„ ', h ideas of all other natures, possible exisf,-.,,,., i • , , ".« in the idea of Uod A 7ZC777 7Z" 77777 necessary existence. For, from this „,one aAl wuho c 7 " they will discover that God exists • and it A " ' ^'"""s"- Med latino*, they ,„,„,„„, ,, , ' "!l h ' s;>"KC in my cleariyknoAln. ,, h" e.,h::r AS <" f A":™>" th'"^ ^' - r^^^^^7^77Z77Z777'[ on the contrary, tl,ey never fA„ ° T^',) .".*¦«• which thev conceived but nbs,-„Ai ¦ , ' '"'- t,'utl1 '" llm"-;; 7v^^^Z;777777Z7777''il «!uch contain what is unknown, tl„v ell iu ,1 ,„, - A , <">'hl's"s 9 TA 270 APPENDIX. 77 177:777717 17:7° md r "-"<¦ «-*. - ought rather to baic b, ' ''A" m"C'' bettCT ""folded, and had desired to be more exact mS ™ *x[°ms' if ' AXIOMS OR COMJIOf) NOTIONS »« ^:S;x;;: ittl's bc in,lnhTd ,vl,f is thc — °< - > 1 »rai,v cause in or 1c • o ,is i'^™ '''R' ^ "0t lbflt «'"'« »""»«i'.v of his nature i , e o," ""' b",t ,,m""c tl,° vo^' '"- <»'.v cause of his existence ' r0!,S"n W,,y t,, "«'l of ,..'''cd!'d,d.Ti':;,his:;:;::l tueTcm'ont on ti,i,t """•¦" ¦¦-- ,,1.,^ -¦irr-,,Ag ,,,,,,, ^:^:;';:;i-;:7 ^ ^-s cause for co,^ «»«"> But this vision does not affect the ,„Ll ' ¦ e°aUS0 W0 sc(! it? ''"'d »" Weit inherint, in '" A" '" S0 ^ as !' •« «"> Mca, t'>e phantasy; and, bv reason of th^ " ^ "''^ dcr'ctcd on exists unless we supple T everv M n W°t™nnot J»^ ^it the sky 'ive renhty which is leal,, P 7 e l *d Z! '" a ""A °f itS "'^ sk.v hself, and so in the other induces ° W° 'H»e l° b° thc 4; zz;:7::Zo77777'^ofe^^efoc- "'¦<" ^•l^ance than f, it . . , , ' A "a" aC°'dCnt 0r mof,p- *n,l inti- ^•b-crive reabiv h h C1A 1 A A'A""" nIs0 that tl>™ is ™rc Z Vl:7r7 77:777 77 7^-"^ t-'cod that is clearly know, to it A ""A'1'1*?5 "^""''y. to the 1'cetions which it Los , ' ''Cf"n)' lf il dis™vcr any por- ^eifif,„e ,,. 7:7 777\7 imanay <"»"¦" ««•""• C. i^ - .1 cat,.,. ,.„,, ,,,;„ ¦:;.;• fc'-11 p— «,.* .„ possess the™ s«^;„'r;. Tin„i::":;;m;1 """'c ,mm]l thu>* * ™* «-• ^^ n bds ceatio t A A ,::';r7° 'tR M"lm{n "Properties; but -tio,., a, has be , a eAlV , ''' °'' m0,'e d'ffiCUlt t'"'1" ,ta C— APPENDIX; 271 X. In the idea or concept of a thing existence is contained hecau e « are unable to conceive anything unless under the. fm-m , f 2 2 Inch e.x,sts; but with this difference that, in thc concent of ah, d thing, possible or contingent existence is a,one conta he, red , e concept of a being; sovereignly perfect, perfect and .. • ' , A eti en IS comprised. •> cxiateuce rnorosrrioN j. a„me. "'^ * ^ '" "m,Wn r™" th° "-''1-ati.m of his nature OlSMUNSTItATKlN. To say that an attribute is eonlaii.ed i„ ,,,„. ,„,„„,, „,. nfn "^-•hos„mcas„,say,,l„ltthisal,rih„,eis,rue„f le I a»'l that ,t may be affirmed to boh, it. (|)„f,„i,i(>„ ,y ties ,!,,„„, or'^no/cxisis1:11 ll'Uth b° Mid that nw-"'-' c— is » K And this syllogism is thc same as that of which I made „s„ ;r -Ply to the sixth article of these o,y'ect,ons; a,!d Us e ti ¦ v'A Known wathout proof by those who are free fron, all nreiu he 's',, '.-en sa,d ,n Postulate V. But because it ,s not so easy to rA'eV A PROPOSITION II. ^ZeZTZZ" " dCn,0nMrated- ^°^- ''"- «.» alone, "KMONSTRATION. the objective reality of each of our ideas roqobes a cause in wVel, ssame reahty ,s contained, not simply obb lively 7e' 7 inentlv (by ^xinni Ar) ooj.itn,.^, put rormally or ::;:™t,:i-;:;;:,S;,::;;:.^;;,- ^¦"¦i:;>:£ Ti thiscm I'ltii'cisrrto.v in. ^sr^Si'jThtr""' * hi""— 272 APPENDIX. DEMONSTRATION. I ice, I have not tho power of self-conservalion ^ "cntly all that is in me (bv Axiom IV) formally 01. emi. We tlm perception of these same pSffiKTS^JJiS 1^^^™^,?^°'° J ^ COnSe"ed Ca™0t "- «-. ' -hich he has not A h Z e "orm 1 o """""T l° Wm' that is to «* having tho power of on e v n g" "y * B™t* <& Axiom VII) ; for have, clforLi, the Sn"^ T^ *W' '1C Sh°U,d they were awanting tA him (o^Axi^Vm Inl 5 7* '"^ « Z:l77777^7l7tha ^^— ^h ! discover to recently proved- * °0,,ceire can he in God alone, as I jg Hence he has ah these in himself, formally or eminently, and thus he COROLLART. tZZZ7Z£Z7,lZ Z7:t*7. that is «-¦ con. conceive in the manner 7777177^ ^ "* ^ DEMONSTRATION. »,,.*; « ,:,;„?:,':* js;:,k;'^ ¦» ¦»• «>- ".^ »i,« ... APPENDIX. 27c PROPOSITION IV. The mind and body are really distinct. DEMONSTRATION. All that we clearly conceive can bo made by God in the manner in winch we conceive it (by foregoing Corollary). But we clearly conceive mind, that is, a substance, which thinks without body, that is to say, without an extended substance (by IV-culate III- and, on the other hand, wo as clearly conceive body without mind (A every one admits); ' Hence, at least, by the omnipotence of God, the mind can exist with out the body, and the body without thc mind. Now, substances which can exist independently of each ot'.er are really distinct (by Definition X). But the mind and thc body are substances (by Definitions V VI and I II), which can exist independently of each other, as I leave re cently proved : Hence the mind and the body aro really distinct And it must be observed that I havo here made' use of the omnipo tence of God m order to found my proof on it, not that there is nee.' of any extraordinary power in order to separate the mind from the body hut tor this reason, that, as I have treated of God only in the for-oiiA ppopos.tu.ns, I could not draw my proof from any other source thanfrom him : and ,t matters very little by what power two thin-: are separated in order to discover that they are reallv distinct. NOTES. I. TO PERCKIVfi— PERCEPTION— p. 87. '^7^^77:^71 7 a mUCh ^ ^i»«tio„ in the Thoo,s of phiio::;: " ir u :i nrx1 vi ,iterature of the denote the immediate knnwlci™ ™cPt,on 's, at present, used to further restricted o A A™ ^'U thn^ «*<*. or even still Primary ViaUti„s 77^7^77 1 ^ ^ beCn ™iM the bhers generally, the word ' ^, ^T'5' a"d tbe oI^ philoso- »-owl,i„„s„A 0 c°, ' ^ rac°-of m,th,esame *™° * "hich we hend or take note of he obie t of 0 A ^ Which We ""^ »PP™- «* distinguished frl , a p em • Uff,t °'' .0nsci»«^s, considered ^ Accordingly, in C 77 77Z "'' nep,U°n 0n,5*meBt> ''"^dhig <™p»7m„, when An he r ,7 ht*nta™ Perception is synonymous with the aPPr'chc777a tlTZ ""!, °f ",° tC™' U is Said '" consist .„ •^A » W„, a s^p Tto lud, ™T". " 'C —«« "/ *«* chides b„t,. the represe ta vo 1 .,w, 1 "A rraS°ni"=' U ti,US »- Cartesians, of se.se) m ll ™0H f^ <>f ™ag,„ation (and with the S'ivon in a 'notion C)n l^ttt0 " representative knowledge —option, represent ^t "7 77777 ta""ta«to» °" «.. -thorn perceiving or immcdlJ e ^ n Z ^^.^^ Cartcs.an literature is thus, with greater Lis ^™/>ere "¦ aseqmbale.it to eonnoseere ,-„/;;, , P'opnoty, considered ;;:;:;;,,rs' - A:; "-£££i" "'SS'c^:, 41'Jsct to the Mem,, «*,,<„<;„„„ ,„„ compo,il«m, or NOTIiS. nntinnum comphxio per ajlirmalionnn et „e,jalio„em, i.e., enuneiatio, or, in the language of Descartes, a truth.— Prin. of Phil, p I § .ps Alau bergius Op. P. I., pp. 0:ti, o03. (Ed, IG'Jl.) Flei.dcrus', L..A. Cont. Clanh. III. 55 1,5. (-lth Ed.) To illustrate more particularly tho nature and sphere of perception as the term is used in the Cartesian school, it is necessary to attend to' (he division of the phuaiomena or consciousness, adopted Ay D-en-tes and current among his followers. Descartes divides all o„r tlioAhA' K7,7,//mJ!M)_andwitl, him thought is the genera! name for each mode or plKonnmrnon of consciousness_-i„(o two grand el.', ises, vi/ , t|„. \,.|i vines and Passivities of mind (aetiones ,1 passioncs sice tgiectus onhnee) the distinguishing element of these two classes 1,,-iug, thai in the former ease the miml of itself determines its own modification ; i„ the latter ,t is determined to it, by some action, to wit, foreign from the win The first ela*s embraces all the arts of the Will, or the volitions, (volition?, tn-e operational •olnntulis), inasmuch as all such modifications of miml are considered hi him as determinable, and actually determined, by lie- power of free choice or will, i.e., by the mind itself'; and under voi,t':,,i, (i. e , to use the language, of his followers, latio qnaedum animi tendem ad uhjeetum in idea proposilum) he comprehends judgment and will pro per (vellc et node), according as the object is regar.lcd under the notions ol thc true and tho /«/.«•, or 0f the quod and the had. To the second class |,o refers all the Cognitive acts of the mind, considered nmrelv as apprehensive of their objects (perceptions sine operationes i„lcUectus"\ m.Timieh as our apprehensions are not made aibitrai ilv, or at the plea' sure of our will, but determined by their objects, and a.Atl.us in a se, 7fl the external senses, and finally transmitted by tho nerves to the brain. Aud they had no ground to suppose there were such images, hcrond observing that our thought can bo efficaciously excited by a picture to conceive the object pictured ; from wliich it appeared to them that the mind must be, in the same way, excited to apprehend the objects wliich affect the senses, by means of certain small images delineated in our head. Whereas we ought to consider that there arc many things be sides images that can excite our thoughts; as, for example, words and signs which in no way resemble the things they signify. And if, that we may depart as little as possible from tho commonly received opinions, we may bo allowed to concede that the objects we perceive arc really depicted iu the brain, we must at least remark that no image is ever absolutely tike to the object it represents ; for in that case there would be no distinction between the object and its image ; but that a. partial likeness (rutin:, dntilitndtn, m) is sufficient,, and that frequently oven the perfection of images consists in their not resembling the objects as far as they might. Thus, we sec that engravings formed merely by the placing of ink here and there on paper, represent to us forests, cities, men, aud even battles and tempests; and yet of the innumerable quali ties of these objects which they exhibit to our thought, there is none except thc figure of which they really bear tho likeness. And it is to be remarked that even this likeness is very imperfect, since on a plane surface they represent to us bodies variously rising and sinking ; and even that according to tho rules o< perspective, they frequently repre sent circles better by ovals than by other circles, and squares by rhombi than by other squares, and so on in other instances; so that in order to the absolute perfection of tho imago, and tho accurate delineation of the object, thc former more frequently requires to be unlike the latter."-. Diopt. cap. iv. 5 6. C. 5 7. Prim nf Phil., p. iv. s§ 107, 10S. " Whoever has well comprised (says Descartes in contravention of the doctrine of Regius, that all our common notions owe their origin to observation ami tradition), the extent and limits of our senses, and what precisely by their means can reach our faculty of thinking, must admit (hat no idea or objects are represented to us by them such as wc form thnn by thought; so that there is nothing in our ideas that is not natural to thc mind or to the faculty of thinking which it possesses, if we but except eeriaio circumstances that pertain only to experience; for example, it, is experience alone that leads us lo judge that such and such ideas, which are now present to the mind, are related to certain objects that are out of us; not in truth that tliose, things transmitted them into our mind by the to-gans of the senses such as ice perceive them ; but bcettuse they irnnsmiltetl son,, I/ting which gave occasion to our mind, by the noluntl faculty il possesses, to form Haw at that time rather than at atttflo r. I ,.r, as our author himself avers in article til, in accordance with, tlie doctrine of my Principles, nothing can come from external objects to our mmd by thc medium of thc senses, except certain corpo real movcto-nis ; but neither these, movements themselves nor the figures NOTES. 27!J arising from them, are conceived by us such as they are. in the organs ol sense,,, I have amply explained in the Dioptrics ¦ whence it folio" ha even the ideas of motion and figures arc naturally in us. And Ac more the ideas of pain, colours, sounds, and of other shui 1, ,1 ¦mist be natural to us, to thc end that „„', min,lo77,Z ! 7'7 corporea movements, with which they have no resemblance, mat, be 7- , reprint them to to// "-Remarks on the Pro,,,,,,,,,,,, , f R ..,,-, .- P. .. xeix (Ed 1008), or ton,, iv. Lett, x.xxviii. „f Ganders 1 A ' ' finally, I hold that all those (ideas) whiel, involve uo negation or an nation, are innate n, us, far the organs of the senses eon,;,, nob,, to usofthc same character as the idea which is fm u,cd ,„, ,A, ¦ A them, .,,,,1 thus the idea must have been previonCi, ,n 77^ 7" t Iv., or Gander's Ed. torn, iv. belt, l.xix. ' ' " Whence do we know that the sky exists? ]s it because we see h- But tins v.smn docs not affect II ind unless iu h„ far as it is an id,-,'. and an idea uthcring in the mind itself, aud not an in,,,,,,, dejdclcd on the phantasy."— App. Ax. o. p. >2H). ' "I hold that, there is no other difference between the mind and. its ideas than between a piece of wax and the diverse f,j tires of -which it is- coonble And since the receiving diverse figures is not properly an action A ilA ax, but a passton ; so .t seems to me to be also a passim, in tbe mind hat it receives this or that idea ; and I consider that except ,ts voh- tions ,t has no actions, but that its ideas are induced upon it pa-tlv by objects affecting the senses, partly by the unpressics t .at are n the bran, and partly also by the dispositions which ha, e .-one before mmd .tsetf, and by thc movements of its will '-Kp y j c„ " The mmd always receives these (its perceptions) from the An'.e.s r- preseuted by them."-Dc Pass. Part i. Art 17 Among- Cartesians, compare Do la Foige, De IT.sprit ,lc nionnm- cap. x. Gcuhn.x, Dictata in Prim PIlil.°p. ;„ % J., j „ , ; Recherche de la Vcrite, Liv. ii. ; De n,„agu,.,tion, Can". A ¦ A Liv. 1. Des Sens, chap. x. 55. ' ' "' a,t"' lam aware that some maintain that Oescarb-s held the mnter.al ,m prcss.on to be an object of consciousness, an opinion ,0 ! bed and Stewart incline (see Retd's j^!1}s „„ tllt! MvtJ 7 A'! F.,say ,,., chap. vul. ;, Slcwarfs Dissertation, note \ „ •¦,-, • Pen ,A -' an ,., chap, f, note, p. ,;,, cj. ps.,,„. Th,u sm,,As -At, A',c A, AA of Descartes, is manifest from the passages already cited I, A, necessary, however, in order fo a fo.ler eonsidctiA, 0 ' he A 1 o reler .0 those doubtful statements which at first ,4, give some countenance to the snppos.tmn ZZ^7Z::77777777 77: " -' ''thatifsomebodyexAswith:^ as it wc-c, „, consider it when it chooses, it ma, thus A, ', e A objects, so that this mode of tlnnl-i,,.- .'A, A ' "''' """¦|n this •— •»- ^ Z777:Z777r:77;: 280 upon itself, and considers some one of the ideas it possesses within itself; but, in imagininir, it turns toward the body, and contemplates in it some object conformed to the idea which it either conceived of itself or apprehended by sense." — Med. vi., pp. 152, 153. " The former, or corporeal spccics'which must be in tho brain in order to imagination, are not thoughts ; but the operation of the mind imagining or turning towards these species, is a thought." — Ep. p. ii. liv. (Do Pass. p. h, art. 3.",. Appendix. Del', ii., p. 267). These and similar passages might seem, at first sight, to countenance the supposition, that Descartes admitted a knowledge of tho cor poreal species or organic impression. Such an interpretation is, however, rash and untenable, were there no other ground for rejecting it, save thc various contradictions of the principles of tho philosophy of which it is supposed to form a part, for these aro so many and so mani fest, that wc could hardly suppose such a thinker as Descartes to have allowed, them to escape his notice. Before showing that the passages in themselves do not really warrant thc interpretation hero referred to, I shall point out its' general inconsistency, not only with the main prin ciple, hut with certain particular doctrines of Cartcsianism, and these the most important, and distinctive. In thc first, place, then, had Descartes admitted a knowledge of the material impression, either in sense or imagination, and, be it observed, an immediate knowledge is the only suppcsable, ho must have allowed an immediate consciousness of matter, for thc corporeal species is a material object. But this would have been to contradict tho funda mental principle of his philosophy, according to which, mind, on account of its absolute diversity from body, is supposed to be able to hold no immediate converse w ith matter, but only to bo cognisant of it by means of its own modifications, determined hypcrplijsically on occasion of certain afi'ictions of the body with which it is conjoined. And thus, if the mind he immediately cognisant of the corporeal species, what occu pies the prominent and distinctive place in Cartcsianism, — viz., the host of mental ideas representative of the outward object, becomes forthwith the superfluity and excrescence of thc system ; for if tbe mind can take immediate cognisance of the corporeal species, t. e. of matter, why postulate a mental representation in order to the perception of the outward object? But in the second place, whether the material impression be an object of consciousness or not, Descartes must still bo held to allow the exist ence of a mental modification or idea. The species, therefore, on the hypothesis that it is an object of consciousness, is cither really identical with the mental idea, or it is different from it. To take the former supposition, or that of the identity of the material and mental modifica tions, it wi'i follow that mind and matter arc no longer distinguishable, ale ii, j .anger diverse substances, seeing their modifications coincide — a tenet no less at variance with the entire .course of the speculations of Descartes, than is thc doctrine from which it flows with the numerous KOTKS. 281 *~ But the organic >^7T£^**» must be tio:,. diverse from, the mental idea. AfowAs'' A, 7 i""' T' wlth' nn,6t tlie material idea is perceived 77" hypothesis in o.^ti,,., of perception, there mLho in ah of^™1 » hk°"™ an object t on a two-fold object. For such A oct , * 7 * • Cn,e ami *""&»*- of a ground in all the writings of Descart ' 'S "0t tho shjd™ But, in thc third place let it b„ c ' , "- existence of JnX^ZTtt^ ^^ did ™^°« '" perception, and that the organic hnme^,n''°''C °"h' * Si""!" oh^ allowance a palpable com,,,l?ction 7, A™' ",t!l tf"'S ^,ili(™* -o„ld arise. The organic imr.rcss m, h'!. A "> thc l'""-o,..ior Presentativo idea of the object mus, , l'""st-itufc the m- »' - represent it ^rX'ZtZ'7' ^ ""'^ '"" -^ he object could not bo simj by 7'7 7'lZ " ^T" ^ f'"' Presented, without appearing in a ,Au A ' i'"'' .",""1 or «'•» "e- -eontra,,- to the hypothesis: But T , ^V"" "r -en, which the same time representative ,vu7f 7 * ,fi:,te'-ia!, and at "tonally (intentionaliter) 71 A- 1, 7^7 ^ ^ r°<"™:-' ".represent,, or 1,e the image or ,77! ^^"'^ the objea only his own doctrine of A, ~ ™ f ?**™** c,Iltr..llict not tions of any rcpresentative'doc t" Wo A, "\ ' V'T* "" ^'"^ -,.,!,- on winch a doctrine of represon io ° A ' ™ ""' ""'¦* 'rr"n"': that tho mind is not immediate! p '• , " "ftf ^I— -ccsss,,, is Descartes at the same timchol.Mlm h °ut,vard l']'W< * no an object external to the mind 7 Aa Z^V11""- ^'-'.'f material erccved, he mnst alloir ,„ n > b < A A" ",ff '" l,'« ''mb,, is cmal of the existence of 777 a 7 7' '""W °" «'e intat.ve object is founded. a-ert.or, of the need of a re„le- I lir";n no.,..:.) _ . 'J,hese considerations „r Highly improbable »,,.,* tv ahoivtothomindac olZ^* '^ '"' the i ¦ and imnn.|„,(!„_ A °1 ^""^ness of the or, •^ I think, sufficient to show, that, it is at leas i':ot,.d to converse,, towards th- •-"¦es, it w:'!j be found, by a reference to tbe passages in which it occurs, that it is always used as descriptive of the acts of senso and imagination, when these arc spoken of in contrast to the act of the pure intellect, or that faculty whose exercise is independent of all organic impression; and then the contrast indicated is in the, origin or source of the ideas, or objects of these faculties, thoso of sense and imagination having their (remote) source in bodv,-lbosc of intellect, their (immediate) origin ,11 the mind itself. In this way, all that conversion towards thc species indicates is merely that the mind does not receive certain ideas directly bom itself, but is in some way dependent for at least their actual pre sence on certain conditions of the bodily organism. And this, it is manifest, does not necessarily imply thc consciousness by tho mind ot the organic impression. A.-lin the corporeal species may in its turn he said to inform the mind (informant- went,,,,), inasmuch as it is to it tho mental modifica tion or idea, viewed apart from its hyperphysical origin, is immediately att.ched, ami on occasion of wliich it is revealed to consciousness; and this on the law of the union of mind and body, as parts of thc same whole In the same sense, Deity is said to inform the mind, in so con stituting it as that in the course of the development of its powers, the knowlocWe of himself should naturally arise. But in the second place, the species may, in a literal sense, be said to i"form the mind, for the word, in its strict acceptation, merely de notes the "iviii"- a particular form or shape to a thing; and in the Cartesian phraseology, thc spiritual notions or mental ideas were but thc different, forms of thc mind in which its acts were clothed, limited, and determined.- Vide Appendix, Def. ii. p. 187. De la Forgo, Do ITspvit, chirp, x., p. Ill and passim. Claim. Op. p. 11., p. Got). Tlie doctrine of Descartes on this point seems to be well put by CI. invin, when, after noticing the doctrines of certain of tho Pcnpa- tet-cs re.-ardin". species, he savs :— " There are, however, among more recent philosophers, not a few who retain tbe nomenclature of species impress and erpressa. But with them the species imprcssa is nothing mo.-e than a certain motion impressed either mediately or immediately, bv external objects, on the parts of thc body, and thence by the nerves tAns-nil led to the brain, or a certain commotion of the fibres of the brain p.-occrdh.... from the agitation of thc animal spirits flowing 1,1 the brain- whb-h, as they have nn resemblance to the objects of nature arc , stccineu reprcseniamens of these things, on no other account •ban because Ihe. mind on occasion of them [i.e., ihe motions], makes thc things present In itself, and contemplates the. same, in its ott-n ideas there- fr, in a-isi-m * * ' * but the species e.t-pressa is nothing more than that notion of the mmd which is expressed on the presence of ,1„. ,,.,¦.,',.¦ imprcssa, and bv attention to and inspection (inlmhonc) of u A eh 'the tl.iov itself is known."— Lexicon Rationale, Species, (1G92). An.- Prill, of r'hih, Part iv. £§ 189, 1117, 198. " ,>„t lastly, thc whole ambiguity is probably due to thc extreme NOTES, -'SI tin mbty of the philosopher, and his anxious solicitude to br in* thc ro-„]r, ofh.sownmdcpendent reflection into an apparent ha.n.Av 1 th ! opinions generally received in his time; wild, led bin, |V L A clothe his really new doctrines in the cuAent Lis 7 77 7 * sa, e IT " T' n0t °VCn °n thC S"Ccia' ^°""'1 O' the ambiguous p„ ag s tl en .selves, any reason to suppose that Descartes cvcAde a L bom a doctrine essential to the eonsis.enev of his phiMsoph, , non-consciousness of the organic impression. So'nme, 0 I A, material or organic modification. We must now, however, consider idea in reference to mind ic as n object of consciousness. I„ this re.ation.lhe fund.,,,,™ Lim 'to he attached to the term, as used by ,i,,,ea, tes ami thc Carles i, le of a represcntat.ve thought, or an object of consciousness in and by h -ow edge 0 which wc become aware ofson.ethingdistmc I jeet ...self Idea, Decades says, is to be tab,,, « pro oo.ni re n„7k 77777^ ^ «h>etivum in inte!,eetu.-_l,iss. do A.Afu Ic'ctn" 7 .,'kAl0ht.'',S;ir«™gitata qua, eons est objedive in iutcl- 77 ,'n 1 iv,'"' ' ¦ 'S :<,0'"'itati" t'-""l":>'" ''ei imagC'-Co,, Med. iii. lis necessary, however, with a view to an adequate miderst.Adh.g 0 the Cartesian plulosophy, to distinguish the two aspects under win," ho same idea was v.cwcd by Descartes and his followers. The mental den, while really one and indivisible, was coc.lend „. two lo "i ;cd"rtI^is'0,'S^Z',,,Uth '" "" "^ ¦""' ™ a "-liumof AmAA ledge 11 at , m reference to thc mind knowiog ;„,d „lc „,,;„..( ]{I1( I is ihstmctmn ,s made by Desea.tes in sever.,1 p:e-s.,..-„s „f t|„. Mll. tations. Thus, - ,f ideas arc taken in so far ,„dv as 7 7 Zun nodes of consciousness, I do not remark any uWorence ,'!,,. among them and all seem in the same manner- to „r„eeod f.-om .A'A A but eonsKlermg then, as images, of uhich one represents „„„ ,/„ A „ ,J another advent, it is eudont that a great duersitv obtain A them. -Med. iii. p. ]21. r,.0face of Med p 8S Tins distinction of idea as act and as rep,esontati,e o'njeet rc-rade, he whole body of Cartesian ,i,P1,lillrc. V,,,,n tlkt,J ' * l.,«-y concept or ideaf'saysClauberg.'.hasaOco/hWdeoeodeocc,; one from the conceiving and tldnhing intellect, in as far as it , 'in A he other from the thing conceived or lik-, A „,,,,,, t0 , ; . ' ' [' rprcsrntatwn or image, or whence it is s!„,ek out bv mi, yi„o - ( , ;«¦ P; »7 (Ed. ,«.!). Con. De la bo.ge, Del'b.spri, L i pp~ 7 b- 1. • endcrus, bogiea Contrac.a Claobergiana (1th cd As, .-, . 'j 1 Id a has thus with the Cartesians,, twofold relation or dee ,' , ,,',ec 0 mmd (operatio mentis, ,,,,,.//,,,,,,,, idea poss,s-os a f. r 7 1 m of the object thought (imag,, rei eotptatao. cv jn tpe „h„ ehject (in vice .-«,,,,, ,t ,lns an ,hJccM,r „,. -^ ; ^ ¦<- ''"• nve vteanum). A,r,,l„ ;,!„., „....,-..,, ..... '. - k 1, ta ll, .it 'oedlvirr. " " "" '¦¦'•jeeuvi or vicarious hem," esse ,,/„>,.'•-.•„- •»«»1- Again, idea, as standing i„ this ,lu„blo V elation oAdA 7777 fa' I0, 7"- , tWf °'d Ca"S0' vil- an ^'>-' -o an „OT- ' "' . -" so„far as il moio of consciousness, tho idea has its efficient 77 .777" in the mi."d itso,f <«« « 7 X772 cause), m so far as rcprcsentat.ve, the object is the exemplar, cause .^.Hiding ,n relation to the idea as the archetype to the ectype lie principal to the vicarious. "ic tciype, tlie It is the discrimination of idea as a mental operation or representa tive object, which affords the logical distinction of ^J 7 7ea ol* mot with on all hands in Cartesian literature. « By the term >fica says Descartes himself, « I understand that form of any thought b he .mmerhatc to«m of which I am conscious of that same though,,. —Appendix, Def. ii. p. 267. same1 Hdi? SailV sa-v'A, Aa',A' "that l taIce Inception and idea for thc same thing. It should he observed, however, that this thing, although one has two relations : thc one to thc mind which it modifies, the other o he tln.nr pcrecved, in so far as it is objectively in the mind, and that he word perecpUon more distinctly marks tho former relation, and nha the latter, llu.s, the perception of a square marks more directly niy mmd as perceiving a square; and the idea of a square marks more brcclythe square m so far as it is objectively in mv niind.»_Des A ra.es et des Gausses Idecs, chap. v. Def. 6. Con. Do la Forge, De 1 Esprit, chap. x. pp. 128, 110. U should be observed, however, with regard to this distinction of iaea and perception, that with Descartes perception is sometimes used where, m accordance with the propriety of language, wo should have expected idea. Thus he says, "The mind always receives these (its perceptions) from the things represented, bv them." (De Pass P. i. ..xit. 17.) On the other hand, we find idea "where, in accordance with his general nomenclature, wc should have looked for perception. U hen I will and fear, because at the same time I perceive that I will and fear the volition itself and fear are reckoned by mc among ideas." — Ob. et Kesp. Perthy, Ob. v. p. 98 (Ed. 1G70). Looking to ideas as tbe immediate objects of knowledge or percep tion, and considering them in relation to the faculties of which they are the objects, they may bo classed as ideas of sense, of imagination aud of the pure intellect, in the exercise of each of which powers we arc said to be apprehensive or percipient of ideas. But, as the objects of these powers, ideas differ both in their origin, and accordion- to the cnaraetsr ot the objects they represent. In the first relation, ideas ar.se ether simply from thc mind, as those of the pure intellect or from the mind on occasion of body, modified by the corporeal species as those of sense and imagination. Considered as to their origin the ideas oi sense and imagination thus stand in contrast to those of the pmc intellect, for in sense and imagination (here is always a phvsical impression or corporeal species as thc cause or occasion of the mental idea- whereas the intellect, as deriving its ideas from the mind itself has uo need of a material organ or of corporeal species. Tho ideas of NOTES. 285 sense ami imagination, while they agree in being the res.," th„ , liypeiphysically determined, of a physical antvL It n 7 f * of the corporeal species, and thus in both depend ,g 0, t 1 le? organism, nevertheless differ in this that thr «„ A , l!'-v is attached is in the case of ™^t^%^£t 7 M« ser.ee and action of external objects; whbc in'im I t™ ™ .'ft only remotely on external objects, and proximo el on A * memory, and the action of thelnimal ipirL ' °n *" "'""' thc But the chief contrast of ideas arises from the character of the ohW. hey represent In this relation, on thc Cartesian d m i e de-, , o two great classes. The first comprehends all ideas o ho in dividual and p.cturable, in other words, all the objects of A =0 and imagination; the second contains all our notions of th " en " A jve or unp.cturable in other words, tbe ideas of the pure ntn L Con. Med. v,. pp. T51-153 ; Prin. of Phil. P. i. fi :ii jA„ , ' ' ' "¦•¦ P-318 of Carnicr's cd„ or vol. vi., L.lxii. duod.A,,. 7 'i lA 7 I>o Ibspr.t, chap, xviii. pp. ans-wvj.l-im.l or sense it siA,,p A; »l-erved that idea, in thc writings of Demotes aswel , "A, in the Cartesian school, denotes indifferently the..". ! Ami , of To primary and thesensations of the secondary qualitie of matte Thus heat. Malebranchc himted idea (idee) to thc apprehension 0f thr. r" mary reserving sentiment to designate thc sens.IL 777, /a" he.d'hvS7A^hi Re°°ndary qHa,itiCSOn «™ -hicctn ; : "e held by the Cartesians to be merely modifications of the neAh ir , subject, and not to exist in nature as in consciousness, i, ia L to hm(wh,chwas.not generally the case out of the Ah ¦ I 7, A'A < artcs), was not representative. Vide P,i„. of Phil. P. i. g§ eg, , o, „A III. OBJECTIVE nEAUTY—(rcalila?objert;,y,)-p „3 ph^ea'D^S^ pai.at.on of the term objective reality. 7,, a A ha , ' a A a aiT that aspect of a representative thought in which .1 is eon A ^ re ation to the object represented; heAce thc oh i i^s id oi r" ¦|ULI1L leriijtv in so far as it, nviV* v*-. -,-. L • . (7;::;,;Vf ilnrintellectui). 777 JCS: i wiilte rnaaike, 1, ,s precisely opposed to the more modern (K .nb ,, A f on or the san.e word, and corresponds, to a ce.tLn A, V 77' =::;i'S^£.^ the lea i„ so '• A A ' '-^ d,sti""ui-<'^ '™m thc object of dee i.,dep«.,K,,i;,ro t- ur r^Ti'th1; n,?iHtc 7u-> c/— - "" In ""s relation the oojeef .vtissiij 9 ,- 2S6 NOTKS. to nossess realilas actualis, formalis, as opposed to real.itas objectiva. (Con. Med. iii. pp. 121, 122 ; Med. vi. p. 158.) The object as it exists n nature was by other philosophers, and among these by some of the Cartesians, called ens principal*, reale, fundamental* (quasi f, indumentum "(Tithe second place, the representative being of an idea was distin- , J 1 fn.m its relation to the mind of which it isltho act and in h,s " ,,,-t idea so far as act, was- said to possess esse, reale, materttde.Jor- 7 ( a forma etucedam mentis,^ this in contrast with ohjertiuum), ri!;,; in relation to the object represented, it was sa,d to possess 7 77nt,,e,f innate (and this in contrast with m^c), o^ctimm ¦ • , ¦ tbe-e are thc strictly contrasted appellations. lhc esse J • ¦, ,¦ r„„ rtnnb -On P. 11- np. 607 -ul i. lianui- imatfote, per imtlationem. Con. Claim, up. i • 11 ton's livid, lip. Wlfi, 807. iv. FU..M ok tiiuougii run sensi-.s-OZ • '!"->«" ufi-.-, »' -r judgm ,. ' / ^Ai J" Wi,ich Descartes Adds {„nt' , ^ theimpossibihtyofderivinAh P<,nP"C'e and ,,a'^ «° tin- mind i "¦ovements, »h cb J cSlt ^m "'.'™from »'*- W c o, „ Ad W.'.„7/,W). ' Cmc'ent' cou,d S-'ve rise to modifications o'„ ,,.iy ^r7!77^7i7m the ¦»«*» ^i b,,,,. a„a , , ; -'es, that Descant 1 ' 3^'' ?¦ "^ ^' ^ the modern, and one tllc princil ,? " ! A Ct:'''"e °fin:,;«e i''™- M'.ir ^'^^ aeulty of 1,,;,,,^ ^ '~,a,,d meanwhile ,,„eed 7t 7 alhnns mv,Inet,,npill '^ a I,,,,, natural to it 0r innate- 7 "ever cither said 0P ,,„ ,A , , A T '"'>""- !t "» «,.,,l ).-,„ i ,' "!^ ^hieh are „„v A ' , A .'0 ""'"' "i,s »™< -f inoa ,, Ai;o K,A" T remarked,,, at tA.A'i^-'hstm.iheef.i^JA1': "ot proceed from exteroa' , ,,- mo eertaiu ,h„i„,i,u „,,.",: . A "i". hut fro,,, „„. ,,„. ¦ . "A.N',"i'f'";" 'he de,.- AAA" ""' ¦»*>.» distinguish „:;;;;:¦;„;;; ; »>?¦»« ^^711? ""iiii'i a-H. "Inch are th ¦ c '' ¦"s Hi, l.irnis ,,f t;,,,,H„ 288 thoughts, from others adventitious or factitious, I called them innatt in the same sense in which we say that generosity is innate in certain families, iu others certain diseases, as gout or gravel, not that, there fore, the infants of those families labour under those diseases in the womb of the mother, but because they are born with a certain disposi tion or faculty of contracting them." Again, on Art. xiii., he says — "-\Vhat supposition is more absurd than that all the common notions which aro in the mind arise from these corporeal motions, and cannot exist without them? I should wish our author to show mc what that corporeal movement is which can form any common notion in our mind ; for example,— that the things which arc thc same with a third are the same with each other, or the like. F,,r all thoso motions are particular; but these notions are universal, and possess no affinity with motions, nor any relation to them." "He (Regius) proceeds, in Atticlc xiv., to affirm that the very idea of God which is in us aiiscs not from our faculty of thinking, in which it is innate, but from divine revelation, or tradition, or the observation of things. We shall easily discover the error of this assertion, if wc con sider that a thing can be said to bo from another, cither because that other is its proximate and primary cause, or because it is simply thc remote and accidental, which, in truth, gives occasion to the primary to produce its own effect at one time rather than at another. Thus, all workmen arc the primary and proximate causes of their own works ; but they who commission them, or offer payment for the execution of the works, arc the accidental and remote causes, because the works would not perhaps have been done, without the order. It cannot be doubted but that tradition or tbe observation of things is the remote cause, inviting us to attend to tho idea of God which we possess, and to exhibit it in presence to our thought. But that it is the proximate cause (effextrix) of that idea can be alleged only by one who holds that we can know nothing of God beyond the word God, or the corporeal figure exhibited to us by painters in their representations of God. In asmuch as observation, if it be of sight, presents nothing of its own proper power to the mind except pictures, and pictures whoso whole variety is determined solely by that of certain corporeal movements, as our author liimself baches ; if it be of hearing, observation presents nothing but words and sounds ; if of the other senses, it presents nothing that can be related to God. And, indeed, it is manifest to every one that sigiit properly and by itself pi csent= nothing except pictures, and hearing nothing but words or sounds; so that all which we think beyond these words or pictmes, as the significates of them, arc represented to us by ideas coming from no other source than our faculty of thinking, and therefore natural to it; that is, always existing iu us in power. For to be in any faculty is not to be in act but in power only, because the very word faculty designates nothing but power." — Lett, xxxviii, Gunner's Ed. Tom. iv. Not. iu Prog. Latin (1670), p. 176. NOTES. 289 ideafo^ ihe° 7771 ^7" ^ De ta ¥m^ as to *»"*hcr «« weas ot the mind are born with it, or acquired T ronK- th.,* .. both one and other, They are bo'rn ,777 7y 7 7, k Zl never received them from the senses, ,,„t aisi, because'it s or e^idth the feci Uj of flunking and forming them, which is the pro innte a principal cause of them ; in the same way that we say goo, m ': li . ' natural to certain families, when the member, of them bring U era proxunatc dispositions to those maladies. But those ideas are acqvi and not natural, if by natural wc understand that thev ire in hi ub-' stance of the soul as in a conservatory, in the manner in which ictut 8i e disposed ,n a gallery, that we .nay consider them as we please • for there ,s none of them in particular that needs to he actually present to our mmd, winch being a thinking substance, can have notlbnA aetually Z177 't -°f;V'-'iCh, U hM "° k"0",ed»C' U is f°r «* reason they a e contained m tho mind only in power, and not in act ."-De v 7m X" PP' 143' "*¦ Con- c'JUbc,»- on JIed- iil- °p- VII. formally akd eminently (formalher, e,mner,tcr)-p to. Besides the application of the word formal already noticed, viz. m m opposition to objective, to denote tho object as it exists in \7J- and (2) as a Synonyme for objective in contrast to material, to denote the idea so far as it is a representation, there is still another use of the tm.n the wntrngs of Descartes and in the Cartesian literal,. , In hs thirel application,/,™* is opposed to eminent, and refers to th- re- ation of cause and effect. The contrast indicated by these te, „ ui ^ effect "T^ t0 7 mn"nCr '" "'** a ™- is ^77 tain its effect. A cause, as tbe sum of the perfection or realitv of its effect, may contain this reality in either of two wa,s and m„s ' ,",, f em, on the one hand, if the pcrfcetiot, of thc * the cause m the same mode in which it exists in the effect o • ii cause he only possessed, in this respect, of equal perfect! u | ! effect, the reality of the effect is said to be in the c.Le 77 7 oalier q (L ,„„, ^^ n ^ 1 1. f '¦>- =K=ssiv^re-i.- ,;:>"AAA;" the Divme intellect contains the human «i„re rl , *" t-ie imperfections incident to the 7- 7 7 ^^ 7 ^ A cause containing eminently thus contains all h " i v of'-"' 290 NOTES. ;'r..bog., § 51, 77 Vex \77:7 i,i"-1G01') *'<» (^.t.-Ca,,,) T:xe,,i,vi.,§r^4ai^-^', DcVrics ynr. ruiiE ixt.llcction (i,,tellc„tio pun)-* 907 *i £r. srssT^ isthc ^ »-•'-'<'«'- •""" J" «.m sense the I'™ ii ,, X XlT ? 7" f "" ' "lemory, imagination „,. 0r :,' , s ail the acts, whether of sense, '-sides its gAiet-.l \ 7777 ^'"^ ""* '"""¦%»«* has -l-iaHy when 7777^7^ ^M^"« i and tin -nrUootion tintellc-tlo 7, ]n 7 A"" '" ¦i°inC*1 with ft- *"«> '-'"'ledge, whetl e ¦ , ii, to " 7^° ''" ^ncraI. b"t the and geiArallv „.'„,,, ° *0"C,'a'' °f ti,° ~' Phenomena, »»vcr sense of the 7-777 T"'" C:-l'M° o{ """'""H i» the na„ '»' ''-f/e or picture. 7 77 777cZ 7" 7° °"" lni»* "> landing is the faculty of the uZ '!l"S lh° lmre nmlc<- oble. Whatever knoilcL t3 " ,maGini,'ion of «<° /»*«r- or of God,-of body in i K ,'• ' A'' "^ be ab'e t0 reach °f mi'.d as are either too g.A.t or Ao in moT 7''"' °'' ', ^ °f Us P'-Perties those judgments which ° e , 0 L n"" A^A™0'1 ^ SC"SC-°f of the pore intellect 1S "-'"el— falls within the province 4l;:iitki^ either an immediate n a me ii te , 'A A' !""A idew-in other words, ahme that „ e tal e ,; " . 1 nP ' S'°' " " by th° ',Ure "^"ect these we can uumeii , , ^AA' T ""nd in ltS Phenomena, and thing distinct fro,,, i Axh A "1?i,> ^rolled. But of every- havcluitanicdia-e tio; , ' 7 77 ^ th° inte"00t> ™ ™<> "¦"» "f the id, .as of , AiA • AU,C',ffe by idCa' Th0 disti"e- t» the distinction if t lo i ,A i ', ^ Z inte"CCt' " "™'lv similar '»->< anions (i„ 1 e oldeA en "r r? °f ^ inrtlvl"Ual a"d *>™1, Con. 2<„u, ii., V . t T 'r . V T'1' -and "°'t''"U °r C°'W^feJ 1'i.rb, S 70 lett h-vv ' '"'1'-lul- S'ed. vi. pp. 151. 153. p,.;,, , 12.110.) Ep x'ix' CaVn,0,At01,A iV' P" "1S(°rl-i- «" vol. vi. Ed De lint chap A i' pp^ A . ' ".?'• 7^ ^ »° Ia ^orgc, I m», pp. -,H-„o_\ Ham.lton's Kcid, p. 291. Note. IX. MOTION— p. 2-13 ^7o7z::77l7^r7c' hr * tn *- *™ >- *. ^ona, Can., as »ri;J^Vc"S.X"y_0n "^ d°Ctrin0 °f °CCa- "4;--^--^.Vi?^rot- :.: ;;; j.ri-i •,-- — he — -e- * ciniiii rhili!;: Ain;;;! !" ";e ";lt,»refiof "«>«-. ^ I* necessan. -"^-,Which,sthcgi^'-— ^it^-n-ridi NOTES. 201 -th motion and rest, a'nd noiy b^ lis ^ 77 r™ "'^ ^ serves in the whole the same 77 ""''^""o aiooc pre- then ,,iacf.,| in it Fo], ;™e am"unt °t motion and rest that he -ved b.,t its^de,1^ Th7;7: 77 is rr,in;: in t,,c -att': "hich we easily under,,:,,,,, ma" eon a a ,,¦' 7'"""^ T^' •ii'iverse, although it changes in each it, A '.m.C '" tl,l! ,,huip "'»th, we may hold, when a n-t of' , • P" ' '" *' S" tl,''lt' "' n-knessofaAotheAand[;,a;i„i,mr Iii ti.iA;!::;;;1" d-"1-!- there is just precisely as much moth,,, 1 A '"rmc.. that in the greater • and "that b ii ! ' "° ,"m't'' "' ""' '^ ''o.h as reduced, so fa t^," 'of m t . 7^2™, ^ r''"" °( ^ °^ >™ »¦ -o, that there is perfection ii G J,:; XZ^' "¦ 7 ^" .inimitable, but because he ,„„.,..,, ' 1,U|,M ,IP '¦¦< m hineelf ¦nannerpossibieirihlr: 't ie;;;:;;:oii;;strt:ii,'nn'','^'b'^ manifest experience, or divine vwhtioT^Z \ T° wWch Perceive or believe are brought abmU^i "^ ii1^;^^. « »o ought to suppose no other in his works, lest. A, , 7 A, L,l'il1!"'' fitrnund for concln.iing inconstancy in Col him e i'? '"AAAA1^ as most consonant to reason, that merdv h , ie G,„ " ° f fc,lio" , he parts of matter when he first created tl e i, , , l''SC'-V ""'M: t at matter, manifestly in the same mode a, Ah s ^'"V ",l .vh.eh he first created it, he also abv.-ns ,,,,,,c™ ho I'""L ' " "" motion in the matter itsehV_Part ii! §' ,,'g. '"'"^ q'u"1'^ ot X. SECOND ELBMI.-.NT— ]1. ^",-1 "Thus we may reckon upon bavin-.. -.Iveao,. r forms in matter, which ma be tai- ,Ao ! , ' ^i ."""r^'V" " ''"A" ments of the visible world. The first is , r , .hl,t '"" '-|l- "hich must have been separate, ', i , t A ( '^ uF tll0/',ra.l'""-' ^--,',.,,) they we.e rounded, and i ,„„ , ,i 'A " °' "Ut"T' h! '" alone of its agitati'ou is s he . ' ' si'h ' U"'"cit-V l"»' «* <— bodies, to be broken and aw7cl7^7\7 '" Z^^- '^ "'"n Cos that are of such a fig,,, e as niii i Vaii^ !' i'iA! "T",' "¦•"¦"- small interstices which they find arc, ,-„l AA , " h°k's 'i'"! that of all the rest of tho .oattei w ii ! , " '"'7 TIlt' al!'"' '- -ia.1 in comparison of the bodies wo si' 77Z777^ '""' "'Vy 7 P™-- -,oc determinate onantitv. si, 'ie",1'''. "AA'11'''- "thcrs much smaller: and wc win slid tbul i A V.- h,"1 !'" "''"' :1"" some parts of matter to wit in H ' „ ' " "' thini '"] "' '" a-! figure, can not, be so iis'ili 7 77 °" ¦1"m' ' th™ «'- --t-ti::::-!!;;-:;;;;;-;^ -ts.tow.it.thatthesunandr'nxii^iiiV.^iiiiiir'A 292 a" NOTES. flirt ot these c'ements, the heavens that of the second, and the eartn .th the planets and comets that of the third. For since the sun and the fixed stars em.t light, since the heavens transmit it, and since the earth the planets, and comets reflect it, it appears to me I have ground for these three differences, [hnniuousness, transparency, and opacity or obscurity, which arc the chief wc can relate to the sense of sight], in order to distinguish the three elements of the visible world "—Prin of Phil. Part iii., 5 r,2. Can. Chauvin, Lex. Rat., Art. Elementu ttum. ri,i:n CO liV W.I.I.HM HI. O KWuei, AND SONS. 1197 0156