Discourse on the Method
{"WorkMasterId":7607,"WpPageId":289222,"ParentWpPageId":189762,"Slug":"discourse-on-the-method","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/rene-descartes/discourse-on-the-method/","RelativeUrl":"theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/rene-descartes/discourse-on-the-method/","HasFullText":true,"RawHtmlLength":204293,"CleanHtmlLength":148049,"Kicker":"Philosophy Work","Title":"Discourse on the Method","Deck":"Discourse on the Method sets out Descartes\u0027s autobiographical method, rules of inquiry, mathematical model, and the famous methodical search for certainty.","BackLink":{"Text":"Back to René Descartes","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/rene-descartes/"},"AuthorCard":{"Label":"Author","Title":"René Descartes","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/rene-descartes/","MediaHref":"","ImageSrc":"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/rene-descartes-01-frans-hals-portrait.jpg","ImageAlt":"Portrait of Rene Descartes by Frans Hals","FilterTerra":"Western Europe","ClickText":"René Descartes","ClickHref":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/rene-descartes/","Copies":["1596 CE – 1650 CE","La Haye en Touraine","Early modern rationalist and mathematician of methodic doubt, the cogito, clear and distinct perception, mind-body dualism, innate ideas, analytic geometry, mechanical philosophy, optics, passions, free will, God, and Cartesian science."]},"ContextCards":[{"Label":"Period","Key":"Period:3","Title":"Early Modern History","DateText":"1500 CE – 1799 CE","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/eras-of-thought/philosophers-of-early-modern-history/"},{"Label":"Era","Key":"Era:8","Title":"Scientific Revolution and State Formation","DateText":"1600 CE – 1699 CE","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/eras-of-thought/philosophers-of-early-modern-history/philosophers-of-the-scientific-revolution-and-state-formation/"},{"Label":"Composition","Title":"1637 CE","Url":"","DateText":""}],"DateNote":"Source-backed approximate date.","GeoCards":[{"Label":"Region","Key":"Region:1"},{"Label":"Terra Avita","Key":"TerraAvita:1"},{"Label":"Terra Avita Region","Key":"TerraAvitaRegion:1"},{"Label":"Modern Country","Key":"Country:FRA:1"}],"OriginalTitle":"Discours de la methode","Language":"French","DisciplineCards":[{"Label":"Primary Discipline","Key":"Discipline:epistemology"},{"Label":"Secondary Discipline","Key":"Discipline:logic"}],"Tradition":"Cartesian rationalism / early modern philosophy","FullText":{"Title":"Full Text","Copy":"Public-domain full text from Project Gutenberg eBook #59 .","Url":"","Label":"","Kicker":"","Cards":[]},"CoreThesis":["Discourse on the Method sets out Descartes\u0027s autobiographical method, rules of inquiry, mathematical model, and the famous methodical search for certainty."],"Classification":{"AlternateTitles":"Discours de la methode; Discourse on Method","KeyConcepts":"Discours de la methode; Discourse on Method","Methodology":"Public source support.","Structure":"source context only"},"Arguments":["Discourse on the Method sets out Descartes\u0027s autobiographical method, rules of inquiry, mathematical model, and the famous methodical search for certainty."],"Influence":{"InfluencedBy":"","InfluenceOn":""},"Significance":["Registered from the 1637 publication with the three essays; no full text is imported.","Discourse on the Method is registered as a source-backed René Descartes work. 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The page records approximate dating, transmission evidence, and no-full-text status."]},{"Kind":"TextSection","Title":"Evidence Note","Paragraphs":["Registered from the 1637 publication with the three essays; no full text is imported."]},{"Kind":"RawSection","Title":"Full Text","BodyHtml":"\u003cp class=\"dz-philo__section-copy dz-philo__full-text-source\"\u003ePublic-domain full text from \u003ca href=\"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/59\"\u003eProject Gutenberg eBook #59\u003c/a\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n \u003carticle class=\"dz-philo__full-text-body\"\u003e\r\n\u003c\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\u003ch1\u003eDISCOURSE ON THE METHOD \u003cbr\u003e\r\nOF RIGHTLY CONDUCTING THE REASON,\u003cbr\u003e\r\nAND SEEKING TRUTH IN THE SCIENCES\u003c/h1\u003e\r\n\u003ch2 class=\"no-break\"\u003eby René Descartes\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003chr\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003eContents\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003ctable style=\"\"\u003e\r\n\u003ctbody\u003e\u003ctr\u003e\r\n\u003ctd\u003e \u003ca href=\"#note\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003ePREFATORY NOTE\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\r\n\u003c/tr\u003e\r\n\u003ctr\u003e\r\n\u003ctd\u003e \u003ca href=\"#part1\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003ePART I\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\r\n\u003c/tr\u003e\r\n\u003ctr\u003e\r\n\u003ctd\u003e \u003ca href=\"#part2\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003ePART II\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\r\n\u003c/tr\u003e\r\n\u003ctr\u003e\r\n\u003ctd\u003e \u003ca href=\"#part3\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003ePART III\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\r\n\u003c/tr\u003e\r\n\u003ctr\u003e\r\n\u003ctd\u003e \u003ca href=\"#part4\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003ePART IV\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\r\n\u003c/tr\u003e\r\n\u003ctr\u003e\r\n\u003ctd\u003e \u003ca href=\"#part5\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003ePART V\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\r\n\u003c/tr\u003e\r\n\u003ctr\u003e\r\n\u003ctd\u003e \u003ca href=\"#part6\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003ePART VI\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/td\u003e\r\n\u003c/tr\u003e\r\n\u003c/tbody\u003e\u003c/table\u003e\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca id=\"note\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\r\nPREFATORY NOTE BY THE AUTHOR\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nIf this Discourse appear too long to be read at once, it may be divided into\r\nsix Parts: and, in the first, will be found various considerations touching the\r\nSciences; in the second, the principal rules of the Method which the Author has\r\ndiscovered, in the third, certain of the rules of Morals which he has deduced\r\nfrom this Method; in the fourth, the reasonings by which he establishes the\r\nexistence of God and of the Human Soul, which are the foundations of his\r\nMetaphysic; in the fifth, the order of the Physical questions which he has\r\ninvestigated, and, in particular, the explication of the motion of the heart\r\nand of some other difficulties pertaining to Medicine, as also the difference\r\nbetween the soul of man and that of the brutes; and, in the last, what the\r\nAuthor believes to be required in order to greater advancement in the\r\ninvestigation of Nature than has yet been made, with the reasons that have\r\ninduced him to write.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c!–end chapter–\u003e\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca id=\"part1\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\r\nPART I\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nGood sense is, of all things among men, the most equally distributed; for every\r\none thinks himself so abundantly provided with it, that those even who are the\r\nmost difficult to satisfy in everything else, do not usually desire a larger\r\nmeasure of this quality than they already possess. And in this it is not likely\r\nthat all are mistaken the conviction is rather to be held as testifying that\r\nthe power of judging aright and of distinguishing truth from error, which is\r\nproperly what is called good sense or reason, is by nature equal in all men;\r\nand that the diversity of our opinions, consequently, does not arise from some\r\nbeing endowed with a larger share of reason than others, but solely from this,\r\nthat we conduct our thoughts along different ways, and do not fix our attention\r\non the same objects. For to be possessed of a vigorous mind is not enough; the\r\nprime requisite is rightly to apply it. The greatest minds, as they are capable\r\nof the highest excellences, are open likewise to the greatest aberrations; and\r\nthose who travel very slowly may yet make far greater progress, provided they\r\nkeep always to the straight road, than those who, while they run, forsake it.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nFor myself, I have never fancied my mind to be in any respect more perfect than\r\nthose of the generality; on the contrary, I have often wished that I were equal\r\nto some others in promptitude of thought, or in clearness and distinctness of\r\nimagination, or in fullness and readiness of memory. And besides these, I know\r\nof no other qualities that contribute to the perfection of the mind; for as to\r\nthe reason or sense, inasmuch as it is that alone which constitutes us men, and\r\ndistinguishes us from the brutes, I am disposed to believe that it is to be\r\nfound complete in each individual; and on this point to adopt the common\r\nopinion of philosophers, who say that the difference of greater and less holds\r\nonly among the accidents, and not among the forms or natures of individuals of\r\nthe same species.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nI will not hesitate, however, to avow my belief that it has been my singular\r\ngood fortune to have very early in life fallen in with certain tracks which\r\nhave conducted me to considerations and maxims, of which I have formed a method\r\nthat gives me the means, as I think, of gradually augmenting my knowledge, and\r\nof raising it by little and little to the highest point which the mediocrity of\r\nmy talents and the brief duration of my life will permit me to reach. For I\r\nhave already reaped from it such fruits that, although I have been accustomed\r\nto think lowly enough of myself, and although when I look with the eye of a\r\nphilosopher at the varied courses and pursuits of mankind at large, I find\r\nscarcely one which does not appear in vain and useless, I nevertheless derive\r\nthe highest satisfaction from the progress I conceive myself to have already\r\nmade in the search after truth, and cannot help entertaining such expectations\r\nof the future as to believe that if, among the occupations of men as men, there\r\nis any one really excellent and important, it is that which I have chosen.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nAfter all, it is possible I may be mistaken; and it is but a little copper and\r\nglass, perhaps, that I take for gold and diamonds. I know how very liable we\r\nare to delusion in what relates to ourselves, and also how much the judgments\r\nof our friends are to be suspected when given in our favor. But I shall\r\nendeavor in this discourse to describe the paths I have followed, and to\r\ndelineate my life as in a picture, in order that each one may also be able to\r\njudge of them for himself, and that in the general opinion entertained of them,\r\nas gathered from current report, I myself may have a new help towards\r\ninstruction to be added to those I have been in the habit of employing.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nMy present design, then, is not to teach the method which each ought to follow\r\nfor the right conduct of his reason, but solely to describe the way in which I\r\nhave endeavored to conduct my own. They who set themselves to give precepts\r\nmust of course regard themselves as possessed of greater skill than those to\r\nwhom they prescribe; and if they err in the slightest particular, they subject\r\nthemselves to censure. But as this tract is put forth merely as a history, or,\r\nif you will, as a tale, in which, amid some examples worthy of imitation, there\r\nwill be found, perhaps, as many more which it were advisable not to follow, I\r\nhope it will prove useful to some without being hurtful to any, and that my\r\nopenness will find some favor with all.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nFrom my childhood, I have been familiar with letters; and as I was given to\r\nbelieve that by their help a clear and certain knowledge of all that is useful\r\nin life might be acquired, I was ardently desirous of instruction. But as soon\r\nas I had finished the entire course of study, at the close of which it is\r\ncustomary to be admitted into the order of the learned, I completely changed my\r\nopinion. For I found myself involved in so many doubts and errors, that I was\r\nconvinced I had advanced no farther in all my attempts at learning, than the\r\ndiscovery at every turn of my own ignorance. And yet I was studying in one of\r\nthe most celebrated schools in Europe, in which I thought there must be learned\r\nmen, if such were anywhere to be found. I had been taught all that others\r\nlearned there; and not contented with the sciences actually taught us, I had,\r\nin addition, read all the books that had fallen into my hands, treating of such\r\nbranches as are esteemed the most curious and rare. I knew the judgment which\r\nothers had formed of me; and I did not find that I was considered inferior to\r\nmy fellows, although there were among them some who were already marked out to\r\nfill the places of our instructors. And, in fine, our age appeared to me as\r\nflourishing, and as fertile in powerful minds as any preceding one. I was thus\r\nled to take the liberty of judging of all other men by myself, and of\r\nconcluding that there was no science in existence that was of such a nature as\r\nI had previously been given to believe.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nI still continued, however, to hold in esteem the studies of the schools. I was\r\naware that the languages taught in them are necessary to the understanding of\r\nthe writings of the ancients; that the grace of fable stirs the mind; that the\r\nmemorable deeds of history elevate it; and, if read with discretion, aid in\r\nforming the judgment; that the perusal of all excellent books is, as it were,\r\nto interview with the noblest men of past ages, who have written them, and even\r\na studied interview, in which are discovered to us only their choicest\r\nthoughts; that eloquence has incomparable force and beauty; that poesy has its\r\nravishing graces and delights; that in the mathematics there are many refined\r\ndiscoveries eminently suited to gratify the inquisitive, as well as further all\r\nthe arts an lessen the labour of man; that numerous highly useful precepts and\r\nexhortations to virtue are contained in treatises on morals; that theology\r\npoints out the path to heaven; that philosophy affords the means of discoursing\r\nwith an appearance of truth on all matters, and commands the admiration of the\r\nmore simple; that jurisprudence, medicine, and the other sciences, secure for\r\ntheir cultivators honors and riches; and, in fine, that it is useful to bestow\r\nsome attention upon all, even upon those abounding the most in superstition and\r\nerror, that we may be in a position to determine their real value, and guard\r\nagainst being deceived.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nBut I believed that I had already given sufficient time to languages, and\r\nlikewise to the reading of the writings of the ancients, to their histories and\r\nfables. For to hold converse with those of other ages and to travel, are almost\r\nthe same thing. It is useful to know something of the manners of different\r\nnations, that we may be enabled to form a more correct judgment regarding our\r\nown, and be prevented from thinking that everything contrary to our customs is\r\nridiculous and irrational, a conclusion usually come to by those whose\r\nexperience has been limited to their own country. On the other hand, when too\r\nmuch time is occupied in traveling, we become strangers to our native country;\r\nand the over curious in the customs of the past are generally ignorant of those\r\nof the present. Besides, fictitious narratives lead us to imagine the\r\npossibility of many events that are impossible; and even the most faithful\r\nhistories, if they do not wholly misrepresent matters, or exaggerate their\r\nimportance to render the account of them more worthy of perusal, omit, at\r\nleast, almost always the meanest and least striking of the attendant\r\ncircumstances; hence it happens that the remainder does not represent the\r\ntruth, and that such as regulate their conduct by examples drawn from this\r\nsource, are apt to fall into the extravagances of the knight-errants of\r\nromance, and to entertain projects that exceed their powers.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nI esteemed eloquence highly, and was in raptures with poesy; but I thought that\r\nboth were gifts of nature rather than fruits of study. Those in whom the\r\nfaculty of reason is predominant, and who most skillfully dispose their\r\nthoughts with a view to render them clear and intelligible, are always the best\r\nable to persuade others of the truth of what they lay down, though they should\r\nspeak only in the language of Lower Brittany, and be wholly ignorant of the\r\nrules of rhetoric; and those whose minds are stored with the most agreeable\r\nfancies, and who can give expression to them with the greatest embellishment\r\nand harmony, are still the best poets, though unacquainted with the art of\r\npoetry.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nI was especially delighted with the mathematics, on account of the certitude\r\nand evidence of their reasonings; but I had not as yet a precise knowledge of\r\ntheir true use; and thinking that they but contributed to the advancement of\r\nthe mechanical arts, I was astonished that foundations, so strong and solid,\r\nshould have had no loftier superstructure reared on them. On the other hand, I\r\ncompared the disquisitions of the ancient moralists to very towering and\r\nmagnificent palaces with no better foundation than sand and mud: they laud the\r\nvirtues very highly, and exhibit them as estimable far above anything on earth;\r\nbut they give us no adequate criterion of virtue, and frequently that which\r\nthey designate with so fine a name is but apathy, or pride, or despair, or\r\nparricide.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nI revered our theology, and aspired as much as any one to reach heaven: but\r\nbeing given assuredly to understand that the way is not less open to the most\r\nignorant than to the most learned, and that the revealed truths which lead to\r\nheaven are above our comprehension, I did not presume to subject them to the\r\nimpotency of my reason; and I thought that in order competently to undertake\r\ntheir examination, there was need of some special help from heaven, and of\r\nbeing more than man.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nOf philosophy I will say nothing, except that when I saw that it had been\r\ncultivated for many ages by the most distinguished men, and that yet there is\r\nnot a single matter within its sphere which is not still in dispute, and\r\nnothing, therefore, which is above doubt, I did not presume to anticipate that\r\nmy success would be greater in it than that of others; and further, when I\r\nconsidered the number of conflicting opinions touching a single matter that may\r\nbe upheld by learned men, while there can be but one true, I reckoned as\r\nwell-nigh false all that was only probable.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nAs to the other sciences, inasmuch as these borrow their principles from\r\nphilosophy, I judged that no solid superstructures could be reared on\r\nfoundations so infirm; and neither the honor nor the gain held out by them was\r\nsufficient to determine me to their cultivation: for I was not, thank Heaven,\r\nin a condition which compelled me to make merchandise of science for the\r\nbettering of my fortune; and though I might not profess to scorn glory as a\r\ncynic, I yet made very slight account of that honor which I hoped to acquire\r\nonly through fictitious titles. And, in fine, of false sciences I thought I\r\nknew the worth sufficiently to escape being deceived by the professions of an\r\nalchemist, the predictions of an astrologer, the impostures of a magician, or\r\nby the artifices and boasting of any of those who profess to know things of\r\nwhich they are ignorant.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nFor these reasons, as soon as my age permitted me to pass from under the\r\ncontrol of my instructors, I entirely abandoned the study of letters, and\r\nresolved no longer to seek any other science than the knowledge of myself, or\r\nof the great book of the world. I spent the remainder of my youth in traveling,\r\nin visiting courts and armies, in holding intercourse with men of different\r\ndispositions and ranks, in collecting varied experience, in proving myself in\r\nthe different situations into which fortune threw me, and, above all, in making\r\nsuch reflection on the matter of my experience as to secure my improvement. For\r\nit occurred to me that I should find much more truth in the reasonings of each\r\nindividual with reference to the affairs in which he is personally interested,\r\nand the issue of which must presently punish him if he has judged amiss, than\r\nin those conducted by a man of letters in his study, regarding speculative\r\nmatters that are of no practical moment, and followed by no consequences to\r\nhimself, farther, perhaps, than that they foster his vanity the better the more\r\nremote they are from common sense; requiring, as they must in this case, the\r\nexercise of greater ingenuity and art to render them probable. In addition, I\r\nhad always a most earnest desire to know how to distinguish the true from the\r\nfalse, in order that I might be able clearly to discriminate the right path in\r\nlife, and proceed in it with confidence.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nIt is true that, while busied only in considering the manners of other men, I\r\nfound here, too, scarce any ground for settled conviction, and remarked hardly\r\nless contradiction among them than in the opinions of the philosophers. So that\r\nthe greatest advantage I derived from the study consisted in this, that,\r\nobserving many things which, however extravagant and ridiculous to our\r\napprehension, are yet by common consent received and approved by other great\r\nnations, I learned to entertain too decided a belief in regard to nothing of\r\nthe truth of which I had been persuaded merely by example and custom; and thus\r\nI gradually extricated myself from many errors powerful enough to darken our\r\nnatural intelligence, and incapacitate us in great measure from listening to\r\nreason. But after I had been occupied several years in thus studying the book\r\nof the world, and in essaying to gather some experience, I at length resolved\r\nto make myself an object of study, and to employ all the powers of my mind in\r\nchoosing the paths I ought to follow, an undertaking which was accompanied with\r\ngreater success than it would have been had I never quitted my country or my\r\nbooks.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c!–end chapter–\u003e\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca id=\"part2\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\r\nPART II\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nI was then in Germany, attracted thither by the wars in that country, which\r\nhave not yet been brought to a termination; and as I was returning to the army\r\nfrom the coronation of the emperor, the setting in of winter arrested me in a\r\nlocality where, as I found no society to interest me, and was besides\r\nfortunately undisturbed by any cares or passions, I remained the whole day in\r\nseclusion, with full opportunity to occupy my attention with my own thoughts.\r\nOf these one of the very first that occurred to me was, that there is seldom so\r\nmuch perfection in works composed of many separate parts, upon which different\r\nhands had been employed, as in those completed by a single master. Thus it is\r\nobservable that the buildings which a single architect has planned and\r\nexecuted, are generally more elegant and commodious than those which several\r\nhave attempted to improve, by making old walls serve for purposes for which\r\nthey were not originally built. Thus also, those ancient cities which, from\r\nbeing at first only villages, have become, in course of time, large towns, are\r\nusually but ill laid out compared with the regularity constructed towns which a\r\nprofessional architect has freely planned on an open plain; so that although\r\nthe several buildings of the former may often equal or surpass in beauty those\r\nof the latter, yet when one observes their indiscriminate juxtaposition, there\r\na large one and here a small, and the consequent crookedness and irregularity\r\nof the streets, one is disposed to allege that chance rather than any human\r\nwill guided by reason must have led to such an arrangement. And if we consider\r\nthat nevertheless there have been at all times certain officers whose duty it\r\nwas to see that private buildings contributed to public ornament, the\r\ndifficulty of reaching high perfection with but the materials of others to\r\noperate on, will be readily acknowledged. In the same way I fancied that those\r\nnations which, starting from a semi-barbarous state and advancing to\r\ncivilization by slow degrees, have had their laws successively determined, and,\r\nas it were, forced upon them simply by experience of the hurtfulness of\r\nparticular crimes and disputes, would by this process come to be possessed of\r\nless perfect institutions than those which, from the commencement of their\r\nassociation as communities, have followed the appointments of some wise\r\nlegislator. It is thus quite certain that the constitution of the true\r\nreligion, the ordinances of which are derived from God, must be incomparably\r\nsuperior to that of every other. And, to speak of human affairs, I believe that\r\nthe pre-eminence of Sparta was due not to the goodness of each of its laws in\r\nparticular, for many of these were very strange, and even opposed to good\r\nmorals, but to the circumstance that, originated by a single individual, they\r\nall tended to a single end. In the same way I thought that the sciences\r\ncontained in books (such of them at least as are made up of probable\r\nreasonings, without demonstrations), composed as they are of the opinions of\r\nmany different individuals massed together, are farther removed from truth than\r\nthe simple inferences which a man of good sense using his natural and\r\nunprejudiced judgment draws respecting the matters of his experience. And\r\nbecause we have all to pass through a state of infancy to manhood, and have\r\nbeen of necessity, for a length of time, governed by our desires and preceptors\r\n(whose dictates were frequently conflicting, while neither perhaps always\r\ncounseled us for the best), I farther concluded that it is almost impossible\r\nthat our judgments can be so correct or solid as they would have been, had our\r\nreason been mature from the moment of our birth, and had we always been guided\r\nby it alone.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nIt is true, however, that it is not customary to pull down all the houses of a\r\ntown with the single design of rebuilding them differently, and thereby\r\nrendering the streets more handsome; but it often happens that a private\r\nindividual takes down his own with the view of erecting it anew, and that\r\npeople are even sometimes constrained to this when their houses are in danger\r\nof falling from age, or when the foundations are insecure. With this before me\r\nby way of example, I was persuaded that it would indeed be preposterous for a\r\nprivate individual to think of reforming a state by fundamentally changing it\r\nthroughout, and overturning it in order to set it up amended; and the same I\r\nthought was true of any similar project for reforming the body of the sciences,\r\nor the order of teaching them established in the schools: but as for the\r\nopinions which up to that time I had embraced, I thought that I could not do\r\nbetter than resolve at once to sweep them wholly away, that I might afterwards\r\nbe in a position to admit either others more correct, or even perhaps the same\r\nwhen they had undergone the scrutiny of reason. I firmly believed that in this\r\nway I should much better succeed in the conduct of my life, than if I built\r\nonly upon old foundations, and leaned upon principles which, in my youth, I had\r\ntaken upon trust. For although I recognized various difficulties in this\r\nundertaking, these were not, however, without remedy, nor once to be compared\r\nwith such as attend the slightest reformation in public affairs. Large bodies,\r\nif once overthrown, are with great difficulty set up again, or even kept erect\r\nwhen once seriously shaken, and the fall of such is always disastrous. Then if\r\nthere are any imperfections in the constitutions of states (and that many such\r\nexist the diversity of constitutions is alone sufficient to assure us), custom\r\nhas without doubt materially smoothed their inconveniences, and has even\r\nmanaged to steer altogether clear of, or insensibly corrected a number which\r\nsagacity could not have provided against with equal effect; and, in fine, the\r\ndefects are almost always more tolerable than the change necessary for their\r\nremoval; in the same manner that highways which wind among mountains, by being\r\nmuch frequented, become gradually so smooth and commodious, that it is much\r\nbetter to follow them than to seek a straighter path by climbing over the tops\r\nof rocks and descending to the bottoms of precipices.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nHence it is that I cannot in any degree approve of those restless and busy\r\nmeddlers who, called neither by birth nor fortune to take part in the\r\nmanagement of public affairs, are yet always projecting reforms; and if I\r\nthought that this tract contained aught which might justify the suspicion that\r\nI was a victim of such folly, I would by no means permit its publication. I\r\nhave never contemplated anything higher than the reformation of my own\r\nopinions, and basing them on a foundation wholly my own. And although my own\r\nsatisfaction with my work has led me to present here a draft of it, I do not by\r\nany means therefore recommend to every one else to make a similar attempt.\r\nThose whom God has endowed with a larger measure of genius will entertain,\r\nperhaps, designs still more exalted; but for the many I am much afraid lest\r\neven the present undertaking be more than they can safely venture to imitate.\r\nThe single design to strip one’s self of all past beliefs is one that\r\nought not to be taken by every one. The majority of men is composed of two\r\nclasses, for neither of which would this be at all a befitting resolution: in\r\nthe first place, of those who with more than a due confidence in their own\r\npowers, are precipitate in their judgments and want the patience requisite for\r\norderly and circumspect thinking; whence it happens, that if men of this class\r\nonce take the liberty to doubt of their accustomed opinions, and quit the\r\nbeaten highway, they will never be able to thread the byway that would lead\r\nthem by a shorter course, and will lose themselves and continue to wander for\r\nlife; in the second place, of those who, possessed of sufficient sense or\r\nmodesty to determine that there are others who excel them in the power of\r\ndiscriminating between truth and error, and by whom they may be instructed,\r\nought rather to content themselves with the opinions of such than trust for\r\nmore correct to their own reason.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nFor my own part, I should doubtless have belonged to the latter class, had I\r\nreceived instruction from but one master, or had I never known the diversities\r\nof opinion that from time immemorial have prevailed among men of the greatest\r\nlearning. But I had become aware, even so early as during my college life, that\r\nno opinion, however absurd and incredible, can be imagined, which has not been\r\nmaintained by some on of the philosophers; and afterwards in the course of my\r\ntravels I remarked that all those whose opinions are decidedly repugnant to\r\nours are not in that account barbarians and savages, but on the contrary that\r\nmany of these nations make an equally good, if not better, use of their reason\r\nthan we do. I took into account also the very different character which a\r\nperson brought up from infancy in France or Germany exhibits, from that which,\r\nwith the same mind originally, this individual would have possessed had he\r\nlived always among the Chinese or with savages, and the circumstance that in\r\ndress itself the fashion which pleased us ten years ago, and which may again,\r\nperhaps, be received into favor before ten years have gone, appears to us at\r\nthis moment extravagant and ridiculous. I was thus led to infer that the ground\r\nof our opinions is far more custom and example than any certain knowledge. And,\r\nfinally, although such be the ground of our opinions, I remarked that a\r\nplurality of suffrages is no guarantee of truth where it is at all of difficult\r\ndiscovery, as in such cases it is much more likely that it will be found by one\r\nthan by many. I could, however, select from the crowd no one whose opinions\r\nseemed worthy of preference, and thus I found myself constrained, as it were,\r\nto use my own reason in the conduct of my life.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nBut like one walking alone and in the dark, I resolved to proceed so slowly and\r\nwith such circumspection, that if I did not advance far, I would at least guard\r\nagainst falling. I did not even choose to dismiss summarily any of the opinions\r\nthat had crept into my belief without having been introduced by reason, but\r\nfirst of all took sufficient time carefully to satisfy myself of the general\r\nnature of the task I was setting myself, and ascertain the true method by which\r\nto arrive at the knowledge of whatever lay within the compass of my powers.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nAmong the branches of philosophy, I had, at an earlier period, given some\r\nattention to logic, and among those of the mathematics to geometrical analysis\r\nand algebra,–three arts or sciences which ought, as I conceived, to contribute\r\nsomething to my design. But, on examination, I found that, as for logic, its\r\nsyllogisms and the majority of its other precepts are of avail–rather in the\r\ncommunication of what we already know, or even as the art of Lully, in speaking\r\nwithout judgment of things of which we are ignorant, than in the investigation\r\nof the unknown; and although this science contains indeed a number of correct\r\nand very excellent precepts, there are, nevertheless, so many others, and these\r\neither injurious or superfluous, mingled with the former, that it is almost\r\nquite as difficult to effect a severance of the true from the false as it is to\r\nextract a Diana or a Minerva from a rough block of marble. Then as to the\r\nanalysis of the ancients and the algebra of the moderns, besides that they\r\nembrace only matters highly abstract, and, to appearance, of no use, the former\r\nis so exclusively restricted to the consideration of figures, that it can\r\nexercise the understanding only on condition of greatly fatiguing the\r\nimagination; and, in the latter, there is so complete a subjection to certain\r\nrules and formulas, that there results an art full of confusion and obscurity\r\ncalculated to embarrass, instead of a science fitted to cultivate the mind. By\r\nthese considerations I was induced to seek some other method which would\r\ncomprise the advantages of the three and be exempt from their defects. And as a\r\nmultitude of laws often only hampers justice, so that a state is best governed\r\nwhen, with few laws, these are rigidly administered; in like manner, instead of\r\nthe great number of precepts of which logic is composed, I believed that the\r\nfour following would prove perfectly sufficient for me, provided I took the\r\nfirm and unwavering resolution never in a single instance to fail in observing\r\nthem.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nThe first was never to accept anything for true which I did not clearly know to\r\nbe such; that is to say, carefully to avoid precipitancy and prejudice, and to\r\ncomprise nothing more in my judgement than what was presented to my mind so\r\nclearly and distinctly as to exclude all ground of doubt.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nThe second, to divide each of the difficulties under examination into as many\r\nparts as possible, and as might be necessary for its adequate solution.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nThe third, to conduct my thoughts in such order that, by commencing with\r\nobjects the simplest and easiest to know, I might ascend by little and little,\r\nand, as it were, step by step, to the knowledge of the more complex; assigning\r\nin thought a certain order even to those objects which in their own nature do\r\nnot stand in a relation of antecedence and sequence.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nAnd the \u003ci\u003elast\u003c/i\u003e, in every case to make enumerations so complete, and\r\nreviews so general, that I might be assured that nothing was omitted.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nThe long chains of simple and easy reasonings by means of which geometers are\r\naccustomed to reach the conclusions of their most difficult demonstrations, had\r\nled me to imagine that all things, to the knowledge of which man is competent,\r\nare mutually connected in the same way, and that there is nothing so far\r\nremoved from us as to be beyond our reach, or so hidden that we cannot discover\r\nit, provided only we abstain from accepting the false for the true, and always\r\npreserve in our thoughts the order necessary for the deduction of one truth\r\nfrom another. And I had little difficulty in determining the objects with which\r\nit was necessary to commence, for I was already persuaded that it must be with\r\nthe simplest and easiest to know, and, considering that of all those who have\r\nhitherto sought truth in the sciences, the mathematicians alone have been able\r\nto find any demonstrations, that is, any certain and evident reasons, I did not\r\ndoubt but that such must have been the rule of their investigations. I resolved\r\nto commence, therefore, with the examination of the simplest objects, not\r\nanticipating, however, from this any other advantage than that to be found in\r\naccustoming my mind to the love and nourishment of truth, and to a distaste for\r\nall such reasonings as were unsound. But I had no intention on that account of\r\nattempting to master all the particular sciences commonly denominated\r\nmathematics: but observing that, however different their objects, they all\r\nagree in considering only the various relations or proportions subsisting among\r\nthose objects, I thought it best for my purpose to consider these proportions\r\nin the most general form possible, without referring them to any objects in\r\nparticular, except such as would most facilitate the knowledge of them, and\r\nwithout by any means restricting them to these, that afterwards I might thus be\r\nthe better able to apply them to every other class of objects to which they are\r\nlegitimately applicable. Perceiving further, that in order to understand these\r\nrelations I should sometimes have to consider them one by one and sometimes\r\nonly to bear them in mind, or embrace them in the aggregate, I thought that, in\r\norder the better to consider them individually, I should view them as\r\nsubsisting between straight lines, than which I could find no objects more\r\nsimple, or capable of being more distinctly represented to my imagination and\r\nsenses; and on the other hand, that in order to retain them in the memory or\r\nembrace an aggregate of many, I should express them by certain characters the\r\nbriefest possible. In this way I believed that I could borrow all that was best\r\nboth in geometrical analysis and in algebra, and correct all the defects of the\r\none by help of the other.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nAnd, in point of fact, the accurate observance of these few precepts gave me, I\r\ntake the liberty of saying, such ease in unraveling all the questions embraced\r\nin these two sciences, that in the two or three months I devoted to their\r\nexamination, not only did I reach solutions of questions I had formerly deemed\r\nexceedingly difficult but even as regards questions of the solution of which I\r\ncontinued ignorant, I was enabled, as it appeared to me, to determine the means\r\nwhereby, and the extent to which a solution was possible; results attributable\r\nto the circumstance that I commenced with the simplest and most general truths,\r\nand that thus each truth discovered was a rule available in the discovery of\r\nsubsequent ones Nor in this perhaps shall I appear too vain, if it be\r\nconsidered that, as the truth on any particular point is one whoever apprehends\r\nthe truth, knows all that on that point can be known. The child, for example,\r\nwho has been instructed in the elements of arithmetic, and has made a\r\nparticular addition, according to rule, may be assured that he has found, with\r\nrespect to the sum of the numbers before him, and that in this instance is\r\nwithin the reach of human genius. Now, in conclusion, the method which teaches\r\nadherence to the true order, and an exact enumeration of all the conditions of\r\nthe thing sought includes all that gives certitude to the rules of arithmetic.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nBut the chief ground of my satisfaction with thus method, was the assurance I\r\nhad of thereby exercising my reason in all matters, if not with absolute\r\nperfection, at least with the greatest attainable by me: besides, I was\r\nconscious that by its use my mind was becoming gradually habituated to clearer\r\nand more distinct conceptions of its objects; and I hoped also, from not having\r\nrestricted this method to any particular matter, to apply it to the\r\ndifficulties of the other sciences, with not less success than to those of\r\nalgebra. I should not, however, on this account have ventured at once on the\r\nexamination of all the difficulties of the sciences which presented themselves\r\nto me, for this would have been contrary to the order prescribed in the method,\r\nbut observing that the knowledge of such is dependent on principles borrowed\r\nfrom philosophy, in which I found nothing certain, I thought it necessary first\r\nof all to endeavor to establish its principles. And because I observed,\r\nbesides, that an inquiry of this kind was of all others of the greatest moment,\r\nand one in which precipitancy and anticipation in judgment were most to be\r\ndreaded, I thought that I ought not to approach it till I had reached a more\r\nmature age (being at that time but twenty-three), and had first of all employed\r\nmuch of my time in preparation for the work, as well by eradicating from my\r\nmind all the erroneous opinions I had up to that moment accepted, as by\r\namassing variety of experience to afford materials for my reasonings, and by\r\ncontinually exercising myself in my chosen method with a view to increased\r\nskill in its application.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c!–end chapter–\u003e\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca id=\"part3\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\r\nPART III\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nAnd finally, as it is not enough, before commencing to rebuild the house in\r\nwhich we live, that it be pulled down, and materials and builders provided, or\r\nthat we engage in the work ourselves, according to a plan which we have\r\nbeforehand carefully drawn out, but as it is likewise necessary that we be\r\nfurnished with some other house in which we may live commodiously during the\r\noperations, so that I might not remain irresolute in my actions, while my\r\nreason compelled me to suspend my judgement, and that I might not be prevented\r\nfrom living thenceforward in the greatest possible felicity, I formed a\r\nprovisory code of morals, composed of three or four maxims, with which I am\r\ndesirous to make you acquainted.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nThe \u003ci\u003efirst\u003c/i\u003e was to obey the laws and customs of my country, adhering\r\nfirmly to the faith in which, by the grace of God, I had been educated from my\r\nchildhood and regulating my conduct in every other matter according to the most\r\nmoderate opinions, and the farthest removed from extremes, which should happen\r\nto be adopted in practice with general consent of the most judicious of those\r\namong whom I might be living. For as I had from that time begun to hold my own\r\nopinions for nought because I wished to subject them all to examination, I was\r\nconvinced that I could not do better than follow in the meantime the opinions\r\nof the most judicious; and although there are some perhaps among the Persians\r\nand Chinese as judicious as among ourselves, expediency seemed to dictate that\r\nI should regulate my practice conformably to the opinions of those with whom I\r\nshould have to live; and it appeared to me that, in order to ascertain the real\r\nopinions of such, I ought rather to take cognizance of what they practised than\r\nof what they said, not only because, in the corruption of our manners, there\r\nare few disposed to speak exactly as they believe, but also because very many\r\nare not aware of what it is that they really believe; for, as the act of mind\r\nby which a thing is believed is different from that by which we know that we\r\nbelieve it, the one act is often found without the other. Also, amid many\r\nopinions held in equal repute, I chose always the most moderate, as much for\r\nthe reason that these are always the most convenient for practice, and probably\r\nthe best (for all excess is generally vicious), as that, in the event of my\r\nfalling into error, I might be at less distance from the truth than if, having\r\nchosen one of the extremes, it should turn out to be the other which I ought to\r\nhave adopted. And I placed in the class of extremes especially all promises by\r\nwhich somewhat of our freedom is abridged; not that I disapproved of the laws\r\nwhich, to provide against the instability of men of feeble resolution, when\r\nwhat is sought to be accomplished is some good, permit engagements by vows and\r\ncontracts binding the parties to persevere in it, or even, for the security of\r\ncommerce, sanction similar engagements where the purpose sought to be realized\r\nis indifferent: but because I did not find anything on earth which was wholly\r\nsuperior to change, and because, for myself in particular, I hoped gradually to\r\nperfect my judgments, and not to suffer them to deteriorate, I would have\r\ndeemed it a grave sin against good sense, if, for the reason that I approved of\r\nsomething at a particular time, I therefore bound myself to hold it for good at\r\na subsequent time, when perhaps it had ceased to be so, or I had ceased to\r\nesteem it such.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nMy \u003ci\u003esecond\u003c/i\u003e maxim was to be as firm and resolute in my actions as I was\r\nable, and not to adhere less steadfastly to the most doubtful opinions, when\r\nonce adopted, than if they had been highly certain; imitating in this the\r\nexample of travelers who, when they have lost their way in a forest, ought not\r\nto wander from side to side, far less remain in one place, but proceed\r\nconstantly towards the same side in as straight a line as possible, without\r\nchanging their direction for slight reasons, although perhaps it might be\r\nchance alone which at first determined the selection; for in this way, if they\r\ndo not exactly reach the point they desire, they will come at least in the end\r\nto some place that will probably be preferable to the middle of a forest. In\r\nthe same way, since in action it frequently happens that no delay is\r\npermissible, it is very certain that, when it is not in our power to determine\r\nwhat is true, we ought to act according to what is most probable; and even\r\nalthough we should not remark a greater probability in one opinion than in\r\nanother, we ought notwithstanding to choose one or the other, and afterwards\r\nconsider it, in so far as it relates to practice, as no longer dubious, but\r\nmanifestly true and certain, since the reason by which our choice has been\r\ndetermined is itself possessed of these qualities. This principle was\r\nsufficient thenceforward to rid me of all those repentings and pangs of remorse\r\nthat usually disturb the consciences of such feeble and uncertain minds as,\r\ndestitute of any clear and determinate principle of choice, allow themselves\r\none day to adopt a course of action as the best, which they abandon the next,\r\nas the opposite.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nMy \u003ci\u003ethird\u003c/i\u003e maxim was to endeavor always to conquer myself rather than\r\nfortune, and change my desires rather than the order of the world, and in\r\ngeneral, accustom myself to the persuasion that, except our own thoughts, there\r\nis nothing absolutely in our power; so that when we have done our best in\r\nthings external to us, all wherein we fail of success is to be held, as regards\r\nus, absolutely impossible: and this single principle seemed to me sufficient to\r\nprevent me from desiring for the future anything which I could not obtain, and\r\nthus render me contented; for since our will naturally seeks those objects\r\nalone which the understanding represents as in some way possible of attainment,\r\nit is plain, that if we consider all external goods as equally beyond our\r\npower, we shall no more regret the absence of such goods as seem due to our\r\nbirth, when deprived of them without any fault of ours, than our not possessing\r\nthe kingdoms of China or Mexico, and thus making, so to speak, a virtue of\r\nnecessity, we shall no more desire health in disease, or freedom in\r\nimprisonment, than we now do bodies incorruptible as diamonds, or the wings of\r\nbirds to fly with. But I confess there is need of prolonged discipline and\r\nfrequently repeated meditation to accustom the mind to view all objects in this\r\nlight; and I believe that in this chiefly consisted the secret of the power of\r\nsuch philosophers as in former times were enabled to rise superior to the\r\ninfluence of fortune, and, amid suffering and poverty, enjoy a happiness which\r\ntheir gods might have envied. For, occupied incessantly with the consideration\r\nof the limits prescribed to their power by nature, they became so entirely\r\nconvinced that nothing was at their disposal except their own thoughts, that\r\nthis conviction was of itself sufficient to prevent their entertaining any\r\ndesire of other objects; and over their thoughts they acquired a sway so\r\nabsolute, that they had some ground on this account for esteeming themselves\r\nmore rich and more powerful, more free and more happy, than other men who,\r\nwhatever be the favors heaped on them by nature and fortune, if destitute of\r\nthis philosophy, can never command the realization of all their desires.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nIn fine, to conclude this code of morals, I thought of reviewing the different\r\noccupations of men in this life, with the view of making choice of the best.\r\nAnd, without wishing to offer any remarks on the employments of others, I may\r\nstate that it was my conviction that I could not do better than continue in\r\nthat in which I was engaged, viz., in devoting my whole life to the culture of\r\nmy reason, and in making the greatest progress I was able in the knowledge of\r\ntruth, on the principles of the method which I had prescribed to myself. This\r\nmethod, from the time I had begun to apply it, had been to me the source of\r\nsatisfaction so intense as to lead me to, believe that more perfect or more\r\ninnocent could not be enjoyed in this life; and as by its means I daily\r\ndiscovered truths that appeared to me of some importance, and of which other\r\nmen were generally ignorant, the gratification thence arising so occupied my\r\nmind that I was wholly indifferent to every other object. Besides, the three\r\npreceding maxims were founded singly on the design of continuing the work of\r\nself-instruction. For since God has endowed each of us with some light of\r\nreason by which to distinguish truth from error, I could not have believed that\r\nI ought for a single moment to rest satisfied with the opinions of another,\r\nunless I had resolved to exercise my own judgment in examining these whenever I\r\nshould be duly qualified for the task. Nor could I have proceeded on such\r\nopinions without scruple, had I supposed that I should thereby forfeit any\r\nadvantage for attaining still more accurate, should such exist. And, in fine, I\r\ncould not have restrained my desires, nor remained satisfied had I not followed\r\na path in which I thought myself certain of attaining all the knowledge to the\r\nacquisition of which I was competent, as well as the largest amount of what is\r\ntruly good which I could ever hope to secure Inasmuch as we neither seek nor\r\nshun any object except in so far as our understanding represents it as good or\r\nbad, all that is necessary to right action is right judgment, and to the best\r\naction the most correct judgment, that is, to the acquisition of all the\r\nvirtues with all else that is truly valuable and within our reach; and the\r\nassurance of such an acquisition cannot fail to render us contented.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nHaving thus provided myself with these maxims, and having placed them in\r\nreserve along with the truths of faith, which have ever occupied the first\r\nplace in my belief, I came to the conclusion that I might with freedom set\r\nabout ridding myself of what remained of my opinions. And, inasmuch as I hoped\r\nto be better able successfully to accomplish this work by holding intercourse\r\nwith mankind, than by remaining longer shut up in the retirement where these\r\nthoughts had occurred to me, I betook me again to traveling before the winter\r\nwas well ended. And, during the nine subsequent years, I did nothing but roam\r\nfrom one place to another, desirous of being a spectator rather than an actor\r\nin the plays exhibited on the theater of the world; and, as I made it my\r\nbusiness in each matter to reflect particularly upon what might fairly be\r\ndoubted and prove a source of error, I gradually rooted out from my mind all\r\nthe errors which had hitherto crept into it. Not that in this I imitated the\r\nsceptics who doubt only that they may doubt, and seek nothing beyond\r\nuncertainty itself; for, on the contrary, my design was singly to find ground\r\nof assurance, and cast aside the loose earth and sand, that I might reach the\r\nrock or the clay. In this, as appears to me, I was successful enough; for,\r\nsince I endeavored to discover the falsehood or incertitude of the propositions\r\nI examined, not by feeble conjectures, but by clear and certain reasonings, I\r\nmet with nothing so doubtful as not to yield some conclusion of adequate\r\ncertainty, although this were merely the inference, that the matter in question\r\ncontained nothing certain. And, just as in pulling down an old house, we\r\nusually reserve the ruins to contribute towards the erection, so, in destroying\r\nsuch of my opinions as I judged to be Ill-founded, I made a variety of\r\nobservations and acquired an amount of experience of which I availed myself in\r\nthe establishment of more certain. And further, I continued to exercise myself\r\nin the method I had prescribed; for, besides taking care in general to conduct\r\nall my thoughts according to its rules, I reserved some hours from time to time\r\nwhich I expressly devoted to the employment of the method in the solution of\r\nmathematical difficulties, or even in the solution likewise of some questions\r\nbelonging to other sciences, but which, by my having detached them from such\r\nprinciples of these sciences as were of inadequate certainty, were rendered\r\nalmost mathematical: the truth of this will be manifest from the numerous\r\nexamples contained in this volume. And thus, without in appearance living\r\notherwise than those who, with no other occupation than that of spending their\r\nlives agreeably and innocently, study to sever pleasure from vice, and who,\r\nthat they may enjoy their leisure without ennui, have recourse to such pursuits\r\nas are honorable, I was nevertheless prosecuting my design, and making greater\r\nprogress in the knowledge of truth, than I might, perhaps, have made had I been\r\nengaged in the perusal of books merely, or in holding converse with men of\r\nletters.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nThese nine years passed away, however, before I had come to any determinate\r\njudgment respecting the difficulties which form matter of dispute among the\r\nlearned, or had commenced to seek the principles of any philosophy more certain\r\nthan the vulgar. And the examples of many men of the highest genius, who had,\r\nin former times, engaged in this inquiry, but, as appeared to me, without\r\nsuccess, led me to imagine it to be a work of so much difficulty, that I would\r\nnot perhaps have ventured on it so soon had I not heard it currently rumored\r\nthat I had already completed the inquiry. I know not what were the grounds of\r\nthis opinion; and, if my conversation contributed in any measure to its rise,\r\nthis must have happened rather from my having confessed my Ignorance with\r\ngreater freedom than those are accustomed to do who have studied a little, and\r\nexpounded perhaps, the reasons that led me to doubt of many of those things\r\nthat by others are esteemed certain, than from my having boasted of any system\r\nof philosophy. But, as I am of a disposition that makes me unwilling to be\r\nesteemed different from what I really am, I thought it necessary to endeavor by\r\nall means to render myself worthy of the reputation accorded to me; and it is\r\nnow exactly eight years since this desire constrained me to remove from all\r\nthose places where interruption from any of my acquaintances was possible, and\r\nbetake myself to this country, in which the long duration of the war has led to\r\nthe establishment of such discipline, that the armies maintained seem to be of\r\nuse only in enabling the inhabitants to enjoy more securely the blessings of\r\npeace and where, in the midst of a great crowd actively engaged in business,\r\nand more careful of their own affairs than curious about those of others, I\r\nhave been enabled to live without being deprived of any of the conveniences to\r\nbe had in the most populous cities, and yet as solitary and as retired as in\r\nthe midst of the most remote deserts.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c!–end chapter–\u003e\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca id=\"part4\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\r\nPART IV\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nI am in doubt as to the propriety of making my first meditations in the place\r\nabove mentioned matter of discourse; for these are so metaphysical, and so\r\nuncommon, as not, perhaps, to be acceptable to every one. And yet, that it may\r\nbe determined whether the foundations that I have laid are sufficiently secure,\r\nI find myself in a measure constrained to advert to them. I had long before\r\nremarked that, in relation to practice, it is sometimes necessary to adopt, as\r\nif above doubt, opinions which we discern to be highly uncertain, as has been\r\nalready said; but as I then desired to give my attention solely to the search\r\nafter truth, I thought that a procedure exactly the opposite was called for,\r\nand that I ought to reject as absolutely false all opinions in regard to which\r\nI could suppose the least ground for doubt, in order to ascertain whether after\r\nthat there remained aught in my belief that was wholly indubitable.\r\nAccordingly, seeing that our senses sometimes deceive us, I was willing to\r\nsuppose that there existed nothing really such as they presented to us; and\r\nbecause some men err in reasoning, and fall into paralogisms, even on the\r\nsimplest matters of geometry, I, convinced that I was as open to error as any\r\nother, rejected as false all the reasonings I had hitherto taken for\r\ndemonstrations; and finally, when I considered that the very same thoughts\r\n(presentations) which we experience when awake may also be experienced when we\r\nare asleep, while there is at that time not one of them true, I supposed that\r\nall the objects (presentations) that had ever entered into my mind when awake,\r\nhad in them no more truth than the illusions of my dreams. But immediately upon\r\nthis I observed that, whilst I thus wished to think that all was false, it was\r\nabsolutely necessary that I, who thus thought, should be somewhat; and as I\r\nobserved that this truth, I think, therefore I am (COGITO ERGO SUM), was so\r\ncertain and of such evidence that no ground of doubt, however extravagant,\r\ncould be alleged by the sceptics capable of shaking it, I concluded that I\r\nmight, without scruple, accept it as the first principle of the philosophy of\r\nwhich I was in search.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nIn the next place, I attentively examined what I was and as I observed that I\r\ncould suppose that I had no body, and that there was no world nor any place in\r\nwhich I might be; but that I could not therefore suppose that I was not; and\r\nthat, on the contrary, from the very circumstance that I thought to doubt of\r\nthe truth of other things, it most clearly and certainly followed that I was;\r\nwhile, on the other hand, if I had only ceased to think, although all the other\r\nobjects which I had ever imagined had been in reality existent, I would have\r\nhad no reason to believe that I existed; I thence concluded that I was a\r\nsubstance whose whole essence or nature consists only in thinking, and which,\r\nthat it may exist, has need of no place, nor is dependent on any material\r\nthing; so that “I,” that is to say, the mind by which I am what I\r\nam, is wholly distinct from the body, and is even more easily known than the\r\nlatter, and is such, that although the latter were not, it would still continue\r\nto be all that it is.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nAfter this I inquired in general into what is essential to the truth and\r\ncertainty of a proposition; for since I had discovered one which I knew to be\r\ntrue, I thought that I must likewise be able to discover the ground of this\r\ncertitude. And as I observed that in the words I think, therefore I am, there\r\nis nothing at all which gives me assurance of their truth beyond this, that I\r\nsee very clearly that in order to think it is necessary to exist, I concluded\r\nthat I might take, as a general rule, the principle, that all the things which\r\nwe very clearly and distinctly conceive are true, only observing, however, that\r\nthere is some difficulty in rightly determining the objects which we distinctly\r\nconceive.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nIn the next place, from reflecting on the circumstance that I doubted, and that\r\nconsequently my being was not wholly perfect (for I clearly saw that it was a\r\ngreater perfection to know than to doubt), I was led to inquire whence I had\r\nlearned to think of something more perfect than myself; and I clearly\r\nrecognized that I must hold this notion from some nature which in reality was\r\nmore perfect. As for the thoughts of many other objects external to me, as of\r\nthe sky, the earth, light, heat, and a thousand more, I was less at a loss to\r\nknow whence these came; for since I remarked in them nothing which seemed to\r\nrender them superior to myself, I could believe that, if these were true, they\r\nwere dependencies on my own nature, in so far as it possessed a certain\r\nperfection, and, if they were false, that I held them from nothing, that is to\r\nsay, that they were in me because of a certain imperfection of my nature. But\r\nthis could not be the case with-the idea of a nature more perfect than myself;\r\nfor to receive it from nothing was a thing manifestly impossible; and, because\r\nit is not less repugnant that the more perfect should be an effect of, and\r\ndependence on the less perfect, than that something should proceed from\r\nnothing, it was equally impossible that I could hold it from myself:\r\naccordingly, it but remained that it had been placed in me by a nature which\r\nwas in reality more perfect than mine, and which even possessed within itself\r\nall the perfections of which I could form any idea; that is to say, in a single\r\nword, which was God. And to this I added that, since I knew some perfections\r\nwhich I did not possess, I was not the only being in existence (I will here,\r\nwith your permission, freely use the terms of the schools); but, on the\r\ncontrary, that there was of necessity some other more perfect Being upon whom I\r\nwas dependent, and from whom I had received all that I possessed; for if I had\r\nexisted alone, and independently of every other being, so as to have had from\r\nmyself all the perfection, however little, which I actually possessed, I should\r\nhave been able, for the same reason, to have had from myself the whole\r\nremainder of perfection, of the want of which I was conscious, and thus could\r\nof myself have become infinite, eternal, immutable, omniscient, all-powerful,\r\nand, in fine, have possessed all the perfections which I could recognize in\r\nGod. For in order to know the nature of God (whose existence has been\r\nestablished by the preceding reasonings), as far as my own nature permitted, I\r\nhad only to consider in reference to all the properties of which I found in my\r\nmind some idea, whether their possession was a mark of perfection; and I was\r\nassured that no one which indicated any imperfection was in him, and that none\r\nof the rest was awanting. Thus I perceived that doubt, inconstancy, sadness,\r\nand such like, could not be found in God, since I myself would have been happy\r\nto be free from them. Besides, I had ideas of many sensible and corporeal\r\nthings; for although I might suppose that I was dreaming, and that all which I\r\nsaw or imagined was false, I could not, nevertheless, deny that the ideas were\r\nin reality in my thoughts. But, because I had already very clearly recognized\r\nin myself that the intelligent nature is distinct from the corporeal, and as I\r\nobserved that all composition is an evidence of dependency, and that a state of\r\ndependency is manifestly a state of imperfection, I therefore determined that\r\nit could not be a perfection in God to be compounded of these two natures and\r\nthat consequently he was not so compounded; but that if there were any bodies\r\nin the world, or even any intelligences, or other natures that were not wholly\r\nperfect, their existence depended on his power in such a way that they could\r\nnot subsist without him for a single moment.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nI was disposed straightway to search for other truths and when I had\r\nrepresented to myself the object of the geometers, which I conceived to be a\r\ncontinuous body or a space indefinitely extended in length, breadth, and height\r\nor depth, divisible into divers parts which admit of different figures and\r\nsizes, and of being moved or transposed in all manner of ways (for all this the\r\ngeometers suppose to be in the object they contemplate), I went over some of\r\ntheir simplest demonstrations. And, in the first place, I observed, that the\r\ngreat certitude which by common consent is accorded to these demonstrations, is\r\nfounded solely upon this, that they are clearly conceived in accordance with\r\nthe rules I have already laid down In the next place, I perceived that there\r\nwas nothing at all in these demonstrations which could assure me of the\r\nexistence of their object: thus, for example, supposing a triangle to be given,\r\nI distinctly perceived that its three angles were necessarily equal to two\r\nright angles, but I did not on that account perceive anything which could\r\nassure me that any triangle existed: while, on the contrary, recurring to the\r\nexamination of the idea of a Perfect Being, I found that the existence of the\r\nBeing was comprised in the idea in the same way that the equality of its three\r\nangles to two right angles is comprised in the idea of a triangle, or as in the\r\nidea of a sphere, the equidistance of all points on its surface from the\r\ncenter, or even still more clearly; and that consequently it is at least as\r\ncertain that God, who is this Perfect Being, is, or exists, as any\r\ndemonstration of geometry can be.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nBut the reason which leads many to persuade them selves that there is a\r\ndifficulty in knowing this truth, and even also in knowing what their mind\r\nreally is, is that they never raise their thoughts above sensible objects, and\r\nare so accustomed to consider nothing except by way of imagination, which is a\r\nmode of thinking limited to material objects, that all that is not imaginable\r\nseems to them not intelligible. The truth of this is sufficiently manifest from\r\nthe single circumstance, that the philosophers of the schools accept as a maxim\r\nthat there is nothing in the understanding which was not previously in the\r\nsenses, in which however it is certain that the ideas of God and of the soul\r\nhave never been; and it appears to me that they who make use of their\r\nimagination to comprehend these ideas do exactly the some thing as if, in order\r\nto hear sounds or smell odors, they strove to avail themselves of their eyes;\r\nunless indeed that there is this difference, that the sense of sight does not\r\nafford us an inferior assurance to those of smell or hearing; in place of\r\nwhich, neither our imagination nor our senses can give us assurance of anything\r\nunless our understanding intervene.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nFinally, if there be still persons who are not sufficiently persuaded of the\r\nexistence of God and of the soul, by the reasons I have adduced, I am desirous\r\nthat they should know that all the other propositions, of the truth of which\r\nthey deem themselves perhaps more assured, as that we have a body, and that\r\nthere exist stars and an earth, and such like, are less certain; for, although\r\nwe have a moral assurance of these things, which is so strong that there is an\r\nappearance of extravagance in doubting of their existence, yet at the same time\r\nno one, unless his intellect is impaired, can deny, when the question relates\r\nto a metaphysical certitude, that there is sufficient reason to exclude entire\r\nassurance, in the observation that when asleep we can in the same way imagine\r\nourselves possessed of another body and that we see other stars and another\r\nearth, when there is nothing of the kind. For how do we know that the thoughts\r\nwhich occur in dreaming are false rather than those other which we experience\r\nwhen awake, since the former are often not less vivid and distinct than the\r\nlatter? And though men of the highest genius study this question as long as\r\nthey please, I do not believe that they will be able to give any reason which\r\ncan be sufficient to remove this doubt, unless they presuppose the existence of\r\nGod. For, in the first place even the principle which I have already taken as a\r\nrule, viz., that all the things which we clearly and distinctly conceive are\r\ntrue, is certain only because God is or exists and because he is a Perfect\r\nBeing, and because all that we possess is derived from him: whence it follows\r\nthat our ideas or notions, which to the extent of their clearness and\r\ndistinctness are real, and proceed from God, must to that extent be true.\r\nAccordingly, whereas we not infrequently have ideas or notions in which some\r\nfalsity is contained, this can only be the case with such as are to some extent\r\nconfused and obscure, and in this proceed from nothing (participate of\r\nnegation), that is, exist in us thus confused because we are not wholly\r\nperfect. And it is evident that it is not less repugnant that falsity or\r\nimperfection, in so far as it is imperfection, should proceed from God, than\r\nthat truth or perfection should proceed from nothing. But if we did not know\r\nthat all which we possess of real and true proceeds from a Perfect and Infinite\r\nBeing, however clear and distinct our ideas might be, we should have no ground\r\non that account for the assurance that they possessed the perfection of being\r\ntrue.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nBut after the knowledge of God and of the soul has rendered us certain of this\r\nrule, we can easily understand that the truth of the thoughts we experience\r\nwhen awake, ought not in the slightest degree to be called in question on\r\naccount of the illusions of our dreams. For if it happened that an individual,\r\neven when asleep, had some very distinct idea, as, for example, if a geometer\r\nshould discover some new demonstration, the circumstance of his being asleep\r\nwould not militate against its truth; and as for the most ordinary error of our\r\ndreams, which consists in their representing to us various objects in the same\r\nway as our external senses, this is not prejudicial, since it leads us very\r\nproperly to suspect the truth of the ideas of sense; for we are not\r\ninfrequently deceived in the same manner when awake; as when persons in the\r\njaundice see all objects yellow, or when the stars or bodies at a great\r\ndistance appear to us much smaller than they are. For, in fine, whether awake\r\nor asleep, we ought never to allow ourselves to be persuaded of the truth of\r\nanything unless on the evidence of our reason. And it must be noted that I say\r\nof our reason, and not of our imagination or of our senses: thus, for example,\r\nalthough we very clearly see the sun, we ought not therefore to determine that\r\nit is only of the size which our sense of sight presents; and we may very\r\ndistinctly imagine the head of a lion joined to the body of a goat, without\r\nbeing therefore shut up to the conclusion that a chimaera exists; for it is not\r\na dictate of reason that what we thus see or imagine is in reality existent;\r\nbut it plainly tells us that all our ideas or notions contain in them some\r\ntruth; for otherwise it could not be that God, who is wholly perfect and\r\nveracious, should have placed them in us. And because our reasonings are never\r\nso clear or so complete during sleep as when we are awake, although sometimes\r\nthe acts of our imagination are then as lively and distinct, if not more so\r\nthan in our waking moments, reason further dictates that, since all our\r\nthoughts cannot be true because of our partial imperfection, those possessing\r\ntruth must infallibly be found in the experience of our waking moments rather\r\nthan in that of our dreams.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c!–end chapter–\u003e\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca id=\"part5\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\r\nPART V\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nI would here willingly have proceeded to exhibit the whole chain of truths\r\nwhich I deduced from these primary but as with a view to this it would have\r\nbeen necessary now to treat of many questions in dispute among the earned, with\r\nwhom I do not wish to be embroiled, I believe that it will be better for me to\r\nrefrain from this exposition, and only mention in general what these truths\r\nare, that the more judicious may be able to determine whether a more special\r\naccount of them would conduce to the public advantage. I have ever remained\r\nfirm in my original resolution to suppose no other principle than that of which\r\nI have recently availed myself in demonstrating the existence of God and of the\r\nsoul, and to accept as true nothing that did not appear to me more clear and\r\ncertain than the demonstrations of the geometers had formerly appeared; and yet\r\nI venture to state that not only have I found means to satisfy myself in a\r\nshort time on all the principal difficulties which are usually treated of in\r\nphilosophy, but I have also observed certain laws established in nature by God\r\nin such a manner, and of which he has impressed on our minds such notions, that\r\nafter we have reflected sufficiently upon these, we cannot doubt that they are\r\naccurately observed in all that exists or takes place in the world and farther,\r\nby considering the concatenation of these laws, it appears to me that I have\r\ndiscovered many truths more useful and more important than all I had before\r\nlearned, or even had expected to learn.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nBut because I have essayed to expound the chief of these discoveries in a\r\ntreatise which certain considerations prevent me from publishing, I cannot make\r\nthe results known more conveniently than by here giving a summary of the\r\ncontents of this treatise. It was my design to comprise in it all that, before\r\nI set myself to write it, I thought I knew of the nature of material objects.\r\nBut like the painters who, finding themselves unable to represent equally well\r\non a plain surface all the different faces of a solid body, select one of the\r\nchief, on which alone they make the light fall, and throwing the rest into the\r\nshade, allow them to appear only in so far as they can be seen while looking at\r\nthe principal one; so, fearing lest I should not be able to compense in my\r\ndiscourse all that was in my mind, I resolved to expound singly, though at\r\nconsiderable length, my opinions regarding light; then to take the opportunity\r\nof adding something on the sun and the fixed stars, since light almost wholly\r\nproceeds from them; on the heavens since they transmit it; on the planets,\r\ncomets, and earth, since they reflect it; and particularly on all the bodies\r\nthat are upon the earth, since they are either colored, or transparent, or\r\nluminous; and finally on man, since he is the spectator of these objects.\r\nFurther, to enable me to cast this variety of subjects somewhat into the shade,\r\nand to express my judgment regarding them with greater freedom, without being\r\nnecessitated to adopt or refute the opinions of the learned, I resolved to\r\nleave all the people here to their disputes, and to speak only of what would\r\nhappen in a new world, if God were now to create somewhere in the imaginary\r\nspaces matter sufficient to compose one, and were to agitate variously and\r\nconfusedly the different parts of this matter, so that there resulted a chaos\r\nas disordered as the poets ever feigned, and after that did nothing more than\r\nlend his ordinary concurrence to nature, and allow her to act in accordance\r\nwith the laws which he had established. On this supposition, I, in the first\r\nplace, described this matter, and essayed to represent it in such a manner that\r\nto my mind there can be nothing clearer and more intelligible, except what has\r\nbeen recently said regarding God and the soul; for I even expressly supposed\r\nthat it possessed none of those forms or qualities which are so debated in the\r\nschools, nor in general anything the knowledge of which is not so natural to\r\nour minds that no one can so much as imagine himself ignorant of it. Besides, I\r\nhave pointed out what are the laws of nature; and, with no other principle upon\r\nwhich to found my reasonings except the infinite perfection of God, I\r\nendeavored to demonstrate all those about which there could be any room for\r\ndoubt, and to prove that they are such, that even if God had created more\r\nworlds, there could have been none in which these laws were not observed.\r\nThereafter, I showed how the greatest part of the matter of this chaos must, in\r\naccordance with these laws, dispose and arrange itself in such a way as to\r\npresent the appearance of heavens; how in the meantime some of its parts must\r\ncompose an earth and some planets and comets, and others a sun and fixed stars.\r\nAnd, making a digression at this stage on the subject of light, I expounded at\r\nconsiderable length what the nature of that light must be which is found in the\r\nsun and the stars, and how thence in an instant of time it traverses the\r\nimmense spaces of the heavens, and how from the planets and comets it is\r\nreflected towards the earth. To this I likewise added much respecting the\r\nsubstance, the situation, the motions, and all the different qualities of these\r\nheavens and stars; so that I thought I had said enough respecting them to show\r\nthat there is nothing observable in the heavens or stars of our system that\r\nmust not, or at least may not appear precisely alike in those of the system\r\nwhich I described. I came next to speak of the earth in particular, and to show\r\nhow, even though I had expressly supposed that God had given no weight to the\r\nmatter of which it is composed, this should not prevent all its parts from\r\ntending exactly to its center; how with water and air on its surface, the\r\ndisposition of the heavens and heavenly bodies, more especially of the moon,\r\nmust cause a flow and ebb, like in all its circumstances to that observed in\r\nour seas, as also a certain current both of water and air from east to west,\r\nsuch as is likewise observed between the tropics; how the mountains, seas,\r\nfountains, and rivers might naturally be formed in it, and the metals produced\r\nin the mines, and the plants grow in the fields and in general, how all the\r\nbodies which are commonly denominated mixed or composite might be generated\r\nand, among other things in the discoveries alluded to inasmuch as besides the\r\nstars, I knew nothing except fire which produces light, I spared no pains to\r\nset forth all that pertains to its nature,–the manner of its production and\r\nsupport, and to explain how heat is sometimes found without light, and light\r\nwithout heat; to show how it can induce various colors upon different bodies\r\nand other diverse qualities; how it reduces some to a liquid state and hardens\r\nothers; how it can consume almost all bodies, or convert them into ashes and\r\nsmoke; and finally, how from these ashes, by the mere intensity of its action,\r\nit forms glass: for as this transmutation of ashes into glass appeared to me as\r\nwonderful as any other in nature, I took a special pleasure in describing it. I\r\nwas not, however, disposed, from these circumstances, to conclude that this\r\nworld had been created in the manner I described; for it is much more likely\r\nthat God made it at the first such as it was to be. But this is certain, and an\r\nopinion commonly received among theologians, that the action by which he now\r\nsustains it is the same with that by which he originally created it; so that\r\neven although he had from the beginning given it no other form than that of\r\nchaos, provided only he had established certain laws of nature, and had lent it\r\nhis concurrence to enable it to act as it is wont to do, it may be believed,\r\nwithout discredit to the miracle of creation, that, in this way alone, things\r\npurely material might, in course of time, have become such as we observe them\r\nat present; and their nature is much more easily conceived when they are beheld\r\ncoming in this manner gradually into existence, than when they are only\r\nconsidered as produced at once in a finished and perfect state.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nFrom the description of inanimate bodies and plants, I passed to animals, and\r\nparticularly to man. But since I had not as yet sufficient knowledge to enable\r\nme to treat of these in the same manner as of the rest, that is to say, by\r\ndeducing effects from their causes, and by showing from what elements and in\r\nwhat manner nature must produce them, I remained satisfied with the supposition\r\nthat God formed the body of man wholly like to one of ours, as well in the\r\nexternal shape of the members as in the internal conformation of the organs, of\r\nthe same matter with that I had described, and at first placed in it no\r\nrational soul, nor any other principle, in room of the vegetative or sensitive\r\nsoul, beyond kindling in the heart one of those fires without light, such as I\r\nhad already described, and which I thought was not different from the heat in\r\nhay that has been heaped together before it is dry, or that which causes\r\nfermentation in new wines before they are run clear of the fruit. For, when I\r\nexamined the kind of functions which might, as consequences of this\r\nsupposition, exist in this body, I found precisely all those which may exist in\r\nus independently of all power of thinking, and consequently without being in\r\nany measure owing to the soul; in other words, to that part of us which is\r\ndistinct from the body, and of which it has been said above that the nature\r\ndistinctively consists in thinking, functions in which the animals void of\r\nreason may be said wholly to resemble us; but among which I could not discover\r\nany of those that, as dependent on thought alone, belong to us as men, while,\r\non the other hand, I did afterwards discover these as soon as I supposed God to\r\nhave created a rational soul, and to have annexed it to this body in a\r\nparticular manner which I described.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nBut, in order to show how I there handled this matter, I mean here to give the\r\nexplication of the motion of the heart and arteries, which, as the first and\r\nmost general motion observed in animals, will afford the means of readily\r\ndetermining what should be thought of all the rest. And that there may be less\r\ndifficulty in understanding what I am about to say on this subject, I advise\r\nthose who are not versed in anatomy, before they commence the perusal of these\r\nobservations, to take the trouble of getting dissected in their presence the\r\nheart of some large animal possessed of lungs (for this is throughout\r\nsufficiently like the human), and to have shown to them its two ventricles or\r\ncavities: in the first place, that in the right side, with which correspond two\r\nvery ample tubes, viz., the hollow vein (\u003ci\u003evena cava\u003c/i\u003e), which is the\r\nprincipal receptacle of the blood, and the trunk of the tree, as it were, of\r\nwhich all the other veins in the body are branches; and the arterial vein\r\n(\u003ci\u003evena arteriosa\u003c/i\u003e), inappropriately so denominated, since it is in truth\r\nonly an artery, which, taking its rise in the heart, is divided, after passing\r\nout from it, into many branches which presently disperse themselves all over\r\nthe lungs; in the second place, the cavity in the left side, with which\r\ncorrespond in the same manner two canals in size equal to or larger than the\r\npreceding, viz., the venous artery (\u003ci\u003earteria venosa\u003c/i\u003e), likewise\r\ninappropriately thus designated, because it is simply a vein which comes from\r\nthe lungs, where it is divided into many branches, interlaced with those of the\r\narterial vein, and those of the tube called the windpipe, through which the air\r\nwe breathe enters; and the great artery which, issuing from the heart, sends\r\nits branches all over the body. I should wish also that such persons were\r\ncarefully shown the eleven pellicles which, like so many small valves, open and\r\nshut the four orifices that are in these two cavities, viz., three at the\r\nentrance of the hollow veins where they are disposed in such a manner as by no\r\nmeans to prevent the blood which it contains from flowing into the right\r\nventricle of the heart, and yet exactly to prevent its flowing out; three at\r\nthe entrance to the arterial vein, which, arranged in a manner exactly the\r\nopposite of the former, readily permit the blood contained in this cavity to\r\npass into the lungs, but hinder that contained in the lungs from returning to\r\nthis cavity; and, in like manner, two others at the mouth of the venous artery,\r\nwhich allow the blood from the lungs to flow into the left cavity of the heart,\r\nbut preclude its return; and three at the mouth of the great artery, which\r\nsuffer the blood to flow from the heart, but prevent its reflux. Nor do we need\r\nto seek any other reason for the number of these pellicles beyond this that the\r\norifice of the venous artery being of an oval shape from the nature of its\r\nsituation, can be adequately closed with two, whereas the others being round\r\nare more conveniently closed with three. Besides, I wish such persons to\r\nobserve that the grand artery and the arterial vein are of much harder and\r\nfirmer texture than the venous artery and the hollow vein; and that the two\r\nlast expand before entering the heart, and there form, as it were, two pouches\r\ndenominated the auricles of the heart, which are composed of a substance\r\nsimilar to that of the heart itself; and that there is always more warmth in\r\nthe heart than in any other part of the body–and finally, that this heat is\r\ncapable of causing any drop of blood that passes into the cavities rapidly to\r\nexpand and dilate, just as all liquors do when allowed to fall drop by drop\r\ninto a highly heated vessel.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nFor, after these things, it is not necessary for me to say anything more with a\r\nview to explain the motion of the heart, except that when its cavities are not\r\nfull of blood, into these the blood of necessity flows,–from the hollow vein\r\ninto the right, and from the venous artery into the left; because these two\r\nvessels are always full of blood, and their orifices, which are turned towards\r\nthe heart, cannot then be closed. But as soon as two drops of blood have thus\r\npassed, one into each of the cavities, these drops which cannot but be very\r\nlarge, because the orifices through which they pass are wide, and the vessels\r\nfrom which they come full of blood, are immediately rarefied, and dilated by\r\nthe heat they meet with. In this way they cause the whole heart to expand, and\r\nat the same time press home and shut the five small valves that are at the\r\nentrances of the two vessels from which they flow, and thus prevent any more\r\nblood from coming down into the heart, and becoming more and more rarefied,\r\nthey push open the six small valves that are in the orifices of the other two\r\nvessels, through which they pass out, causing in this way all the branches of\r\nthe arterial vein and of the grand artery to expand almost simultaneously with\r\nthe heart which immediately thereafter begins to contract, as do also the\r\narteries, because the blood that has entered them has cooled, and the six small\r\nvalves close, and the five of the hollow vein and of the venous artery open\r\nanew and allow a passage to other two drops of blood, which cause the heart and\r\nthe arteries again to expand as before. And, because the blood which thus\r\nenters into the heart passes through these two pouches called auricles, it\r\nthence happens that their motion is the contrary of that of the heart, and that\r\nwhen it expands they contract. But lest those who are ignorant of the force of\r\nmathematical demonstrations and who are not accustomed to distinguish true\r\nreasons from mere verisimilitudes, should venture, without examination, to deny\r\nwhat has been said, I wish it to be considered that the motion which I have now\r\nexplained follows as necessarily from the very arrangement of the parts, which\r\nmay be observed in the heart by the eye alone, and from the heat which may be\r\nfelt with the fingers, and from the nature of the blood as learned from\r\nexperience, as does the motion of a clock from the power, the situation, and\r\nshape of its counterweights and wheels.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nBut if it be asked how it happens that the blood in the veins, flowing in this\r\nway continually into the heart, is not exhausted, and why the arteries do not\r\nbecome too full, since all the blood which passes through the heart flows into\r\nthem, I need only mention in reply what has been written by a physician of\r\nEngland, who has the honor of having broken the ice on this subject, and of\r\nhaving been the first to teach that there are many small passages at the\r\nextremities of the arteries, through which the blood received by them from the\r\nheart passes into the small branches of the veins, whence it again returns to\r\nthe heart; so that its course amounts precisely to a perpetual circulation. Of\r\nthis we have abundant proof in the ordinary experience of surgeons, who, by\r\nbinding the arm with a tie of moderate straitness above the part where they\r\nopen the vein, cause the blood to flow more copiously than it would have done\r\nwithout any ligature; whereas quite the contrary would happen were they to bind\r\nit below; that is, between the hand and the opening, or were to make the\r\nligature above the opening very tight. For it is manifest that the tie,\r\nmoderately straightened, while adequate to hinder the blood already in the arm\r\nfrom returning towards the heart by the veins, cannot on that account prevent\r\nnew blood from coming forward through the arteries, because these are situated\r\nbelow the veins, and their coverings, from their greater consistency, are more\r\ndifficult to compress; and also that the blood which comes from the heart tends\r\nto pass through them to the hand with greater force than it does to return from\r\nthe hand to the heart through the veins. And since the latter current escapes\r\nfrom the arm by the opening made in one of the veins, there must of necessity\r\nbe certain passages below the ligature, that is, towards the extremities of the\r\narm through which it can come thither from the arteries. This physician\r\nlikewise abundantly establishes what he has advanced respecting the motion of\r\nthe blood, from the existence of certain pellicles, so disposed in various\r\nplaces along the course of the veins, in the manner of small valves, as not to\r\npermit the blood to pass from the middle of the body towards the extremities,\r\nbut only to return from the extremities to the heart; and farther, from\r\nexperience which shows that all the blood which is in the body may flow out of\r\nit in a very short time through a single artery that has been cut, even\r\nalthough this had been closely tied in the immediate neighborhood of the heart\r\nand cut between the heart and the ligature, so as to prevent the supposition\r\nthat the blood flowing out of it could come from any other quarter than the\r\nheart.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nBut there are many other circumstances which evince that what I have alleged is\r\nthe true cause of the motion of the blood: thus, in the first place, the\r\ndifference that is observed between the blood which flows from the veins, and\r\nthat from the arteries, can only arise from this, that being rarefied, and, as\r\nit were, distilled by passing through the heart, it is thinner, and more vivid,\r\nand warmer immediately after leaving the heart, in other words, when in the\r\narteries, than it was a short time before passing into either, in other words,\r\nwhen it was in the veins; and if attention be given, it will be found that this\r\ndifference is very marked only in the neighborhood of the heart; and is not so\r\nevident in parts more remote from it. In the next place, the consistency of the\r\ncoats of which the arterial vein and the great artery are composed,\r\nsufficiently shows that the blood is impelled against them with more force than\r\nagainst the veins. And why should the left cavity of the heart and the great\r\nartery be wider and larger than the right cavity and the arterial vein, were it\r\nnot that the blood of the venous artery, having only been in the lungs after it\r\nhas passed through the heart, is thinner, and rarefies more readily, and in a\r\nhigher degree, than the blood which proceeds immediately from the hollow vein?\r\nAnd what can physicians conjecture from feeling the pulse unless they know that\r\naccording as the blood changes its nature it can be rarefied by the warmth of\r\nthe heart, in a higher or lower degree, and more or less quickly than before?\r\nAnd if it be inquired how this heat is communicated to the other members, must\r\nit not be admitted that this is effected by means of the blood, which, passing\r\nthrough the heart, is there heated anew, and thence diffused over all the body?\r\nWhence it happens, that if the blood be withdrawn from any part, the heat is\r\nlikewise withdrawn by the same means; and although the heart were as-hot as\r\nglowing iron, it would not be capable of warming the feet and hands as at\r\npresent, unless it continually sent thither new blood. We likewise perceive\r\nfrom this, that the true use of respiration is to bring sufficient fresh air\r\ninto the lungs, to cause the blood which flows into them from the right\r\nventricle of the heart, where it has been rarefied and, as it were, changed\r\ninto vapors, to become thick, and to convert it anew into blood, before it\r\nflows into the left cavity, without which process it would be unfit for the\r\nnourishment of the fire that is there. This receives confirmation from the\r\ncircumstance, that it is observed of animals destitute of lungs that they have\r\nalso but one cavity in the heart, and that in children who cannot use them\r\nwhile in the womb, there is a hole through which the blood flows from the\r\nhollow vein into the left cavity of the heart, and a tube through which it\r\npasses from the arterial vein into the grand artery without passing through the\r\nlung. In the next place, how could digestion be carried on in the stomach\r\nunless the heart communicated heat to it through the arteries, and along with\r\nthis certain of the more fluid parts of the blood, which assist in the\r\ndissolution of the food that has been taken in? Is not also the operation which\r\nconverts the juice of food into blood easily comprehended, when it is\r\nconsidered that it is distilled by passing and repassing through the heart\r\nperhaps more than one or two hundred times in a day? And what more need be\r\nadduced to explain nutrition, and the production of the different humors of the\r\nbody, beyond saying, that the force with which the blood, in being rarefied,\r\npasses from the heart towards the extremities of the arteries, causes certain\r\nof its parts to remain in the members at which they arrive, and there occupy\r\nthe place of some others expelled by them; and that according to the situation,\r\nshape, or smallness of the pores with which they meet, some rather than others\r\nflow into certain parts, in the same way that some sieves are observed to act,\r\nwhich, by being variously perforated, serve to separate different species of\r\ngrain? And, in the last place, what above all is here worthy of observation, is\r\nthe generation of the animal spirits, which are like a very subtle wind, or\r\nrather a very pure and vivid flame which, continually ascending in great\r\nabundance from the heart to the brain, thence penetrates through the nerves\r\ninto the muscles, and gives motion to all the members; so that to account for\r\nother parts of the blood which, as most agitated and penetrating, are the\r\nfittest to compose these spirits, proceeding towards the brain, it is not\r\nnecessary to suppose any other cause, than simply, that the arteries which\r\ncarry them thither proceed from the heart in the most direct lines, and that,\r\naccording to the rules of mechanics which are the same with those of nature,\r\nwhen many objects tend at once to the same point where there is not sufficient\r\nroom for all (as is the case with the parts of the blood which flow forth from\r\nthe left cavity of the heart and tend towards the brain), the weaker and less\r\nagitated parts must necessarily be driven aside from that point by the stronger\r\nwhich alone in this way reach it I had expounded all these matters with\r\nsufficient minuteness in the treatise which I formerly thought of publishing.\r\nAnd after these, I had shown what must be the fabric of the nerves and muscles\r\nof the human body to give the animal spirits contained in it the power to move\r\nthe members, as when we see heads shortly after they have been struck off still\r\nmove and bite the earth, although no longer animated; what changes must take\r\nplace in the brain to produce waking, sleep, and dreams; how light, sounds,\r\nodors, tastes, heat, and all the other qualities of external objects impress it\r\nwith different ideas by means of the senses; how hunger, thirst, and the other\r\ninternal affections can likewise impress upon it divers ideas; what must be\r\nunderstood by the common sense (\u003ci\u003esensus communis\u003c/i\u003e) in which these ideas\r\nare received, by the memory which retains them, by the fantasy which can change\r\nthem in various ways, and out of them compose new ideas, and which, by the same\r\nmeans, distributing the animal spirits through the muscles, can cause the\r\nmembers of such a body to move in as many different ways, and in a manner as\r\nsuited, whether to the objects that are presented to its senses or to its\r\ninternal affections, as can take place in our own case apart from the guidance\r\nof the will. Nor will this appear at all strange to those who are acquainted\r\nwith the variety of movements performed by the different automata, or moving\r\nmachines fabricated by human industry, and that with help of but few pieces\r\ncompared with the great multitude of bones, muscles, nerves, arteries, veins,\r\nand other parts that are found in the body of each animal. Such persons will\r\nlook upon this body as a machine made by the hands of God, which is\r\nincomparably better arranged, and adequate to movements more admirable than is\r\nany machine of human invention. And here I specially stayed to show that, were\r\nthere such machines exactly resembling organs and outward form an ape or any\r\nother irrational animal, we could have no means of knowing that they were in\r\nany respect of a different nature from these animals; but if there were\r\nmachines bearing the image of our bodies, and capable of imitating our actions\r\nas far as it is morally possible, there would still remain two most certain\r\ntests whereby to know that they were not therefore really men. Of these the\r\nfirst is that they could never use words or other signs arranged in such a\r\nmanner as is competent to us in order to declare our thoughts to others: for we\r\nmay easily conceive a machine to be so constructed that it emits vocables, and\r\neven that it emits some correspondent to the action upon it of external objects\r\nwhich cause a change in its organs; for example, if touched in a particular\r\nplace it may demand what we wish to say to it; if in another it may cry out\r\nthat it is hurt, and such like; but not that it should arrange them variously\r\nso as appositely to reply to what is said in its presence, as men of the lowest\r\ngrade of intellect can do. The second test is, that although such machines\r\nmight execute many things with equal or perhaps greater perfection than any of\r\nus, they would, without doubt, fail in certain others from which it could be\r\ndiscovered that they did not act from knowledge, but solely from the\r\ndisposition of their organs: for while reason is an universal instrument that\r\nis alike available on every occasion, these organs, on the contrary, need a\r\nparticular arrangement for each particular action; whence it must be morally\r\nimpossible that there should exist in any machine a diversity of organs\r\nsufficient to enable it to act in all the occurrences of life, in the way in\r\nwhich our reason enables us to act. Again, by means of these two tests we may\r\nlikewise know the difference between men and brutes. For it is highly deserving\r\nof remark, that there are no men so dull and stupid, not even idiots, as to be\r\nincapable of joining together different words, and thereby constructing a\r\ndeclaration by which to make their thoughts understood; and that on the other\r\nhand, there is no other animal, however perfect or happily circumstanced, which\r\ncan do the like. Nor does this inability arise from want of organs: for we\r\nobserve that magpies and parrots can utter words like ourselves, and are yet\r\nunable to speak as we do, that is, so as to show that they understand what they\r\nsay; in place of which men born deaf and dumb, and thus not less, but rather\r\nmore than the brutes, destitute of the organs which others use in speaking, are\r\nin the habit of spontaneously inventing certain signs by which they discover\r\ntheir thoughts to those who, being usually in their company, have leisure to\r\nlearn their language. And this proves not only that the brutes have less reason\r\nthan man, but that they have none at all: for we see that very little is\r\nrequired to enable a person to speak; and since a certain inequality of\r\ncapacity is observable among animals of the same species, as well as among men,\r\nand since some are more capable of being instructed than others, it is\r\nincredible that the most perfect ape or parrot of its species, should not in\r\nthis be equal to the most stupid infant of its kind or at least to one that was\r\ncrack-brained, unless the soul of brutes were of a nature wholly different from\r\nours. And we ought not to confound speech with the natural movements which\r\nindicate the passions, and can be imitated by machines as well as manifested by\r\nanimals; nor must it be thought with certain of the ancients, that the brutes\r\nspeak, although we do not understand their language. For if such were the case,\r\nsince they are endowed with many organs analogous to ours, they could as easily\r\ncommunicate their thoughts to us as to their fellows. It is also very worthy of\r\nremark, that, though there are many animals which manifest more industry than\r\nwe in certain of their actions, the same animals are yet observed to show none\r\nat all in many others: so that the circumstance that they do better than we\r\ndoes not prove that they are endowed with mind, for it would thence follow that\r\nthey possessed greater reason than any of us, and could surpass us in all\r\nthings; on the contrary, it rather proves that they are destitute of reason,\r\nand that it is nature which acts in them according to the disposition of their\r\norgans: thus it is seen, that a clock composed only of wheels and weights can\r\nnumber the hours and measure time more exactly than we with all our skin.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nI had after this described the reasonable soul, and shown that it could by no\r\nmeans be educed from the power of matter, as the other things of which I had\r\nspoken, but that it must be expressly created; and that it is not sufficient\r\nthat it be lodged in the human body exactly like a pilot in a ship, unless\r\nperhaps to move its members, but that it is necessary for it to be joined and\r\nunited more closely to the body, in order to have sensations and appetites\r\nsimilar to ours, and thus constitute a real man. I here entered, in conclusion,\r\nupon the subject of the soul at considerable length, because it is of the\r\ngreatest moment: for after the error of those who deny the existence of God, an\r\nerror which I think I have already sufficiently refuted, there is none that is\r\nmore powerful in leading feeble minds astray from the straight path of virtue\r\nthan the supposition that the soul of the brutes is of the same nature with our\r\nown; and consequently that after this life we have nothing to hope for or fear,\r\nmore than flies and ants; in place of which, when we know how far they differ\r\nwe much better comprehend the reasons which establish that the soul is of a\r\nnature wholly independent of the body, and that consequently it is not liable\r\nto die with the latter and, finally, because no other causes are observed\r\ncapable of destroying it, we are naturally led thence to judge that it is\r\nimmortal.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c!–end chapter–\u003e\r\n\u003cdiv class=\"chapter\"\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003ca id=\"part6\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\r\nPART VI\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nThree years have now elapsed since I finished the treatise containing all these\r\nmatters; and I was beginning to revise it, with the view to put it into the\r\nhands of a printer, when I learned that persons to whom I greatly defer, and\r\nwhose authority over my actions is hardly less influential than is my own\r\nreason over my thoughts, had condemned a certain doctrine in physics, published\r\na short time previously by another individual to which I will not say that I\r\nadhered, but only that, previously to their censure I had observed in it\r\nnothing which I could imagine to be prejudicial either to religion or to the\r\nstate, and nothing therefore which would have prevented me from giving\r\nexpression to it in writing, if reason had persuaded me of its truth; and this\r\nled me to fear lest among my own doctrines likewise some one might be found in\r\nwhich I had departed from the truth, notwithstanding the great care I have\r\nalways taken not to accord belief to new opinions of which I had not the most\r\ncertain demonstrations, and not to give expression to aught that might tend to\r\nthe hurt of any one. This has been sufficient to make me alter my purpose of\r\npublishing them; for although the reasons by which I had been induced to take\r\nthis resolution were very strong, yet my inclination, which has always been\r\nhostile to writing books, enabled me immediately to discover other\r\nconsiderations sufficient to excuse me for not undertaking the task. And these\r\nreasons, on one side and the other, are such, that not only is it in some\r\nmeasure my interest here to state them, but that of the public, perhaps, to\r\nknow them.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nI have never made much account of what has proceeded from my own mind; and so\r\nlong as I gathered no other advantage from the method I employ beyond\r\nsatisfying myself on some difficulties belonging to the speculative sciences,\r\nor endeavoring to regulate my actions according to the principles it taught me,\r\nI never thought myself bound to publish anything respecting it. For in what\r\nregards manners, every one is so full of his own wisdom, that there might be\r\nfound as many reformers as heads, if any were allowed to take upon themselves\r\nthe task of mending them, except those whom God has constituted the supreme\r\nrulers of his people or to whom he has given sufficient grace and zeal to be\r\nprophets; and although my speculations greatly pleased myself, I believed that\r\nothers had theirs, which perhaps pleased them still more. But as soon as I had\r\nacquired some general notions respecting physics, and beginning to make trial\r\nof them in various particular difficulties, had observed how far they can carry\r\nus, and how much they differ from the principles that have been employed up to\r\nthe present time, I believed that I could not keep them concealed without\r\nsinning grievously against the law by which we are bound to promote, as far as\r\nin us lies, the general good of mankind. For by them I perceived it to be\r\npossible to arrive at knowledge highly useful in life; and in room of the\r\nspeculative philosophy usually taught in the schools, to discover a practical,\r\nby means of which, knowing the force and action of fire, water, air the stars,\r\nthe heavens, and all the other bodies that surround us, as distinctly as we\r\nknow the various crafts of our artisans, we might also apply them in the same\r\nway to all the uses to which they are adapted, and thus render ourselves the\r\nlords and possessors of nature. And this is a result to be desired, not only in\r\norder to the invention of an infinity of arts, by which we might be enabled to\r\nenjoy without any trouble the fruits of the earth, and all its comforts, but\r\nalso and especially for the preservation of health, which is without doubt, of\r\nall the blessings of this life, the first and fundamental one; for the mind is\r\nso intimately dependent upon the condition and relation of the organs of the\r\nbody, that if any means can ever be found to render men wiser and more\r\ningenious than hitherto, I believe that it is in medicine they must be sought\r\nfor. It is true that the science of medicine, as it now exists, contains few\r\nthings whose utility is very remarkable: but without any wish to depreciate it,\r\nI am confident that there is no one, even among those whose profession it is,\r\nwho does not admit that all at present known in it is almost nothing in\r\ncomparison of what remains to be discovered; and that we could free ourselves\r\nfrom an infinity of maladies of body as well as of mind, and perhaps also even\r\nfrom the debility of age, if we had sufficiently ample knowledge of their\r\ncauses, and of all the remedies provided for us by nature. But since I designed\r\nto employ my whole life in the search after so necessary a science, and since I\r\nhad fallen in with a path which seems to me such, that if any one follow it he\r\nmust inevitably reach the end desired, unless he be hindered either by the\r\nshortness of life or the want of experiments, I judged that there could be no\r\nmore effectual provision against these two impediments than if I were\r\nfaithfully to communicate to the public all the little I might myself have\r\nfound, and incite men of superior genius to strive to proceed farther, by\r\ncontributing, each according to his inclination and ability, to the experiments\r\nwhich it would be necessary to make, and also by informing the public of all\r\nthey might discover, so that, by the last beginning where those before them had\r\nleft off, and thus connecting the lives and labours of many, we might\r\ncollectively proceed much farther than each by himself could do.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nI remarked, moreover, with respect to experiments, that they become always more\r\nnecessary the more one is advanced in knowledge; for, at the commencement, it\r\nis better to make use only of what is spontaneously presented to our senses,\r\nand of which we cannot remain ignorant, provided we bestow on it any\r\nreflection, however slight, than to concern ourselves about more uncommon and\r\nrecondite phenomena: the reason of which is, that the more uncommon often only\r\nmislead us so long as the causes of the more ordinary are still unknown; and\r\nthe circumstances upon which they depend are almost always so special and\r\nminute as to be highly difficult to detect. But in this I have adopted the\r\nfollowing order: first, I have essayed to find in general the principles, or\r\nfirst causes of all that is or can be in the world, without taking into\r\nconsideration for this end anything but God himself who has created it, and\r\nwithout educing them from any other source than from certain germs of truths\r\nnaturally existing in our minds In the second place, I examined what were the\r\nfirst and most ordinary effects that could be deduced from these causes; and it\r\nappears to me that, in this way, I have found heavens, stars, an earth, and\r\neven on the earth water, air, fire, minerals, and some other things of this\r\nkind, which of all others are the most common and simple, and hence the easiest\r\nto know. Afterwards when I wished to descend to the more particular, so many\r\ndiverse objects presented themselves to me, that I believed it to be impossible\r\nfor the human mind to distinguish the forms or species of bodies that are upon\r\nthe earth, from an infinity of others which might have been, if it had pleased\r\nGod to place them there, or consequently to apply them to our use, unless we\r\nrise to causes through their effects, and avail ourselves of many particular\r\nexperiments. Thereupon, turning over in my mind I the objects that had ever\r\nbeen presented to my senses I freely venture to state that I have never\r\nobserved any which I could not satisfactorily explain by the principles had\r\ndiscovered. But it is necessary also to confess that the power of nature is so\r\nample and vast, and these principles so simple and general, that I have hardly\r\nobserved a single particular effect which I cannot at once recognize as capable\r\nof being deduced in man different modes from the principles, and that my\r\ngreatest difficulty usually is to discover in which of these modes the effect\r\nis dependent upon them; for out of this difficulty cannot otherwise extricate\r\nmyself than by again seeking certain experiments, which may be such that their\r\nresult is not the same, if it is in the one of these modes at we must explain\r\nit, as it would be if it were to be explained in the other. As to what remains,\r\nI am now in a position to discern, as I think, with sufficient clearness what\r\ncourse must be taken to make the majority those experiments which may conduce\r\nto this end: but I perceive likewise that they are such and so numerous, that\r\nneither my hands nor my income, though it were a thousand times larger than it\r\nis, would be sufficient for them all; so that according as henceforward I shall\r\nhave the means of making more or fewer experiments, I shall in the same\r\nproportion make greater or less progress in the knowledge of nature. This was\r\nwhat I had hoped to make known by the treatise I had written, and so clearly to\r\nexhibit the advantage that would thence accrue to the public, as to induce all\r\nwho have the common good of man at heart, that is, all who are virtuous in\r\ntruth, and not merely in appearance, or according to opinion, as well to\r\ncommunicate to me the experiments they had already made, as to assist me in\r\nthose that remain to be made.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nBut since that time other reasons have occurred to me, by which I have been led\r\nto change my opinion, and to think that I ought indeed to go on committing to\r\nwriting all the results which I deemed of any moment, as soon as I should have\r\ntested their truth, and to bestow the same care upon them as I would have done\r\nhad it been my design to publish them. This course commended itself to me, as\r\nwell because I thus afforded myself more ample inducement to examine them\r\nthoroughly, for doubtless that is always more narrowly scrutinized which we\r\nbelieve will be read by many, than that which is written merely for our private\r\nuse (and frequently what has seemed to me true when I first conceived it, has\r\nappeared false when I have set about committing it to writing), as because I\r\nthus lost no opportunity of advancing the interests of the public, as far as in\r\nme lay, and since thus likewise, if my writings possess any value, those into\r\nwhose hands they may fall after my death may be able to put them to what use\r\nthey deem proper. But I resolved by no means to consent to their publication\r\nduring my lifetime, lest either the oppositions or the controversies to which\r\nthey might give rise, or even the reputation, such as it might be, which they\r\nwould acquire for me, should be any occasion of my losing the time that I had\r\nset apart for my own improvement. For though it be true that every one is bound\r\nto promote to the extent of his ability the good of others, and that to be\r\nuseful to no one is really to be worthless, yet it is likewise true that our\r\ncares ought to extend beyond the present, and it is good to omit doing what\r\nmight perhaps bring some profit to the living, when we have in view the\r\naccomplishment of other ends that will be of much greater advantage to\r\nposterity. And in truth, I am quite willing it should be known that the little\r\nI have hitherto learned is almost nothing in comparison with that of which I am\r\nignorant, and to the knowledge of which I do not despair of being able to\r\nattain; for it is much the same with those who gradually discover truth in the\r\nsciences, as with those who when growing rich find less difficulty in making\r\ngreat acquisitions, than they formerly experienced when poor in making\r\nacquisitions of much smaller amount. Or they may be compared to the commanders\r\nof armies, whose forces usually increase in proportion to their victories, and\r\nwho need greater prudence to keep together the residue of their troops after a\r\ndefeat than after a victory to take towns and provinces. For he truly engages\r\nin battle who endeavors to surmount all the difficulties and errors which\r\nprevent him from reaching the knowledge of truth, and he is overcome in fight\r\nwho admits a false opinion touching a matter of any generality and importance,\r\nand he requires thereafter much more skill to recover his former position than\r\nto make great advances when once in possession of thoroughly ascertained\r\nprinciples. As for myself, if I have succeeded in discovering any truths in the\r\nsciences (and I trust that what is contained in this volume I will show that I\r\nhave found some), I can declare that they are but the consequences and results\r\nof five or six principal difficulties which I have surmounted, and my\r\nencounters with which I reckoned as battles in which victory declared for me. I\r\nwill not hesitate even to avow my belief that nothing further is wanting to\r\nenable me fully to realize my designs than to gain two or three similar\r\nvictories; and that I am not so far advanced in years but that, according to\r\nthe ordinary course of nature, I may still have sufficient leisure for this\r\nend. But I conceive myself the more bound to husband the time that remains the\r\ngreater my expectation of being able to employ it aright, and I should\r\ndoubtless have much to rob me of it, were I to publish the principles of my\r\nphysics: for although they are almost all so evident that to assent to them no\r\nmore is needed than simply to understand them, and although there is not one of\r\nthem of which I do not expect to be able to give demonstration, yet, as it is\r\nimpossible that they can be in accordance with all the diverse opinions of\r\nothers, I foresee that I should frequently be turned aside from my grand\r\ndesign, on occasion of the opposition which they would be sure to awaken.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nIt may be said, that these oppositions would be useful both in making me aware\r\nof my errors, and, if my speculations contain anything of value, in bringing\r\nothers to a fuller understanding of it; and still farther, as many can see\r\nbetter than one, in leading others who are now beginning to avail themselves of\r\nmy principles, to assist me in turn with their discoveries. But though I\r\nrecognize my extreme liability to error, and scarce ever trust to the first\r\nthoughts which occur to me, yet-the experience I have had of possible\r\nobjections to my views prevents me from anticipating any profit from them. For\r\nI have already had frequent proof of the judgments, as well of those I esteemed\r\nfriends, as of some others to whom I thought I was an object of indifference,\r\nand even of some whose malignancy and envy would, I knew, determine them to\r\nendeavor to discover what partiality concealed from the eyes of my friends. But\r\nit has rarely happened that anything has been objected to me which I had myself\r\naltogether overlooked, unless it were something far removed from the subject:\r\nso that I have never met with a single critic of my opinions who did not appear\r\nto me either less rigorous or less equitable than myself. And further, I have\r\nnever observed that any truth before unknown has been brought to light by the\r\ndisputations that are practised in the schools; for while each strives for the\r\nvictory, each is much more occupied in making the best of mere verisimilitude,\r\nthan in weighing the reasons on both sides of the question; and those who have\r\nbeen long good advocates are not afterwards on that account the better judges.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nAs for the advantage that others would derive from the communication of my\r\nthoughts, it could not be very great; because I have not yet so far prosecuted\r\nthem as that much does not remain to be added before they can be applied to\r\npractice. And I think I may say without vanity, that if there is any one who\r\ncan carry them out that length, it must be myself rather than another: not that\r\nthere may not be in the world many minds incomparably superior to mine, but\r\nbecause one cannot so well seize a thing and make it one’s own, when it\r\nhas been learned from another, as when one has himself discovered it. And so\r\ntrue is this of the present subject that, though I have often explained some of\r\nmy opinions to persons of much acuteness, who, whilst I was speaking, appeared\r\nto understand them very distinctly, yet, when they repeated them, I have\r\nobserved that they almost always changed them to such an extent that I could no\r\nlonger acknowledge them as mine. I am glad, by the way, to take this\r\nopportunity of requesting posterity never to believe on hearsay that anything\r\nhas proceeded from me which has not been published by myself; and I am not at\r\nall astonished at the extravagances attributed to those ancient philosophers\r\nwhose own writings we do not possess; whose thoughts, however, I do not on that\r\naccount suppose to have been really absurd, seeing they were among the ablest\r\nmen of their times, but only that these have been falsely represented to us. It\r\nis observable, accordingly, that scarcely in a single instance has any one of\r\ntheir disciples surpassed them; and I am quite sure that the most devoted of\r\nthe present followers of Aristotle would think themselves happy if they had as\r\nmuch knowledge of nature as he possessed, were it even under the condition that\r\nthey should never afterwards attain to higher. In this respect they are like\r\nthe ivy which never strives to rise above the tree that sustains it, and which\r\nfrequently even returns downwards when it has reached the top; for it seems to\r\nme that they also sink, in other words, render themselves less wise than they\r\nwould be if they gave up study, who, not contented with knowing all that is\r\nintelligibly explained in their author, desire in addition to find in him the\r\nsolution of many difficulties of which he says not a word, and never perhaps so\r\nmuch as thought. Their fashion of philosophizing, however, is well suited to\r\npersons whose abilities fall below mediocrity; for the obscurity of the\r\ndistinctions and principles of which they make use enables them to speak of all\r\nthings with as much confidence as if they really knew them, and to defend all\r\nthat they say on any subject against the most subtle and skillful, without its\r\nbeing possible for any one to convict them of error. In this they seem to me to\r\nbe like a blind man, who, in order to fight on equal terms with a person that\r\nsees, should have made him descend to the bottom of an intensely dark cave: and\r\nI may say that such persons have an interest in my refraining from publishing\r\nthe principles of the philosophy of which I make use; for, since these are of a\r\nkind the simplest and most evident, I should, by publishing them, do much the\r\nsame as if I were to throw open the windows, and allow the light of day to\r\nenter the cave into which the combatants had descended. But even superior men\r\nhave no reason for any great anxiety to know these principles, for if what they\r\ndesire is to be able to speak of all things, and to acquire a reputation for\r\nlearning, they will gain their end more easily by remaining satisfied with the\r\nappearance of truth, which can be found without much difficulty in all sorts of\r\nmatters, than by seeking the truth itself which unfolds itself but slowly and\r\nthat only in some departments, while it obliges us, when we have to speak of\r\nothers, freely to confess our ignorance. If, however, they prefer the knowledge\r\nof some few truths to the vanity of appearing ignorant of none, as such\r\nknowledge is undoubtedly much to be preferred, and, if they choose to follow a\r\ncourse similar to mine, they do not require for this that I should say anything\r\nmore than I have already said in this discourse. For if they are capable of\r\nmaking greater advancement than I have made, they will much more be able of\r\nthemselves to discover all that I believe myself to have found; since as I have\r\nnever examined aught except in order, it is certain that what yet remains to be\r\ndiscovered is in itself more difficult and recondite, than that which I have\r\nalready been enabled to find, and the gratification would be much less in\r\nlearning it from me than in discovering it for themselves. Besides this, the\r\nhabit which they will acquire, by seeking first what is easy, and then passing\r\nonward slowly and step by step to the more difficult, will benefit them more\r\nthan all my instructions. Thus, in my own case, I am persuaded that if I had\r\nbeen taught from my youth all the truths of which I have since sought out\r\ndemonstrations, and had thus learned them without labour, I should never,\r\nperhaps, have known any beyond these; at least, I should never have acquired\r\nthe habit and the facility which I think I possess in always discovering new\r\ntruths in proportion as I give myself to the search. And, in a single word, if\r\nthere is any work in the world which cannot be so well finished by another as\r\nby him who has commenced it, it is that at which I labour.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nIt is true, indeed, as regards the experiments which may conduce to this end,\r\nthat one man is not equal to the task of making them all; but yet he can\r\nadvantageously avail himself, in this work, of no hands besides his own, unless\r\nthose of artisans, or parties of the same kind, whom he could pay, and whom the\r\nhope of gain (a means of great efficacy) might stimulate to accuracy in the\r\nperformance of what was prescribed to them. For as to those who, through\r\ncuriosity or a desire of learning, of their own accord, perhaps, offer him\r\ntheir services, besides that in general their promises exceed their\r\nperformance, and that they sketch out fine designs of which not one is ever\r\nrealized, they will, without doubt, expect to be compensated for their trouble\r\nby the explication of some difficulties, or, at least, by compliments and\r\nuseless speeches, in which he cannot spend any portion of his time without loss\r\nto himself. And as for the experiments that others have already made, even\r\nalthough these parties should be willing of themselves to communicate them to\r\nhim (which is what those who esteem them secrets will never do), the\r\nexperiments are, for the most part, accompanied with so many circumstances and\r\nsuperfluous elements, as to make it exceedingly difficult to disentangle the\r\ntruth from its adjuncts–besides, he will find almost all of them so ill\r\ndescribed, or even so false (because those who made them have wished to see in\r\nthem only such facts as they deemed conformable to their principles), that, if\r\nin the entire number there should be some of a nature suited to his purpose,\r\nstill their value could not compensate for the time what would be necessary to\r\nmake the selection. So that if there existed any one whom we assuredly knew to\r\nbe capable of making discoveries of the highest kind, and of the greatest\r\npossible utility to the public; and if all other men were therefore eager by\r\nall means to assist him in successfully prosecuting his designs, I do not see\r\nthat they could do aught else for him beyond contributing to defray the\r\nexpenses of the experiments that might be necessary; and for the rest, prevent\r\nhis being deprived of his leisure by the unseasonable interruptions of any one.\r\nBut besides that I neither have so high an opinion of myself as to be willing\r\nto make promise of anything extraordinary, nor feed on imaginations so vain as\r\nto fancy that the public must be much interested in my designs; I do not, on\r\nthe other hand, own a soul so mean as to be capable of accepting from any one a\r\nfavor of which it could be supposed that I was unworthy.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nThese considerations taken together were the reason why, for the last three\r\nyears, I have been unwilling to publish the treatise I had on hand, and why I\r\neven resolved to give publicity during my life to no other that was so general,\r\nor by which the principles of my physics might be understood. But since then,\r\ntwo other reasons have come into operation that have determined me here to\r\nsubjoin some particular specimens, and give the public some account of my\r\ndoings and designs. Of these considerations, the first is, that if I failed to\r\ndo so, many who were cognizant of my previous intention to publish some\r\nwritings, might have imagined that the reasons which induced me to refrain from\r\nso doing, were less to my credit than they really are; for although I am not\r\nimmoderately desirous of glory, or even, if I may venture so to say, although I\r\nam averse from it in so far as I deem it hostile to repose which I hold in\r\ngreater account than aught else, yet, at the same time, I have never sought to\r\nconceal my actions as if they were crimes, nor made use of many precautions\r\nthat I might remain unknown; and this partly because I should have thought such\r\na course of conduct a wrong against myself, and partly because it would have\r\noccasioned me some sort of uneasiness which would again have been contrary to\r\nthe perfect mental tranquillity which I court. And forasmuch as, while thus\r\nindifferent to the thought alike of fame or of forgetfulness, I have yet been\r\nunable to prevent myself from acquiring some sort of reputation, I have thought\r\nit incumbent on me to do my best to save myself at least from being ill-spoken\r\nof. The other reason that has determined me to commit to writing these\r\nspecimens of philosophy is, that I am becoming daily more and more alive to the\r\ndelay which my design of self-instruction suffers, for want of the infinity of\r\nexperiments I require, and which it is impossible for me to make without the\r\nassistance of others: and, without flattering myself so much as to expect the\r\npublic to take a large share in my interests, I am yet unwilling to be found so\r\nfar wanting in the duty I owe to myself, as to give occasion to those who shall\r\nsurvive me to make it matter of reproach against me some day, that I might have\r\nleft them many things in a much more perfect state than I have done, had I not\r\ntoo much neglected to make them aware of the ways in which they could have\r\npromoted the accomplishment of my designs.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nAnd I thought that it was easy for me to select some matters which should\r\nneither be obnoxious to much controversy, nor should compel me to expound more\r\nof my principles than I desired, and which should yet be sufficient clearly to\r\nexhibit what I can or cannot accomplish in the sciences. Whether or not I have\r\nsucceeded in this it is not for me to say; and I do not wish to forestall the\r\njudgments of others by speaking myself of my writings; but it will gratify me\r\nif they be examined, and, to afford the greater inducement to this I request\r\nall who may have any objections to make to them, to take the trouble of\r\nforwarding these to my publisher, who will give me notice of them, that I may\r\nendeavor to subjoin at the same time my reply; and in this way readers seeing\r\nboth at once will more easily determine where the truth lies; for I do not\r\nengage in any case to make prolix replies, but only with perfect frankness to\r\navow my errors if I am convinced of them, or if I cannot perceive them, simply\r\nto state what I think is required for defense of the matters I have written,\r\nadding thereto no explication of any new matte that it may not be necessary to\r\npass without end from one thing to another.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nIf some of the matters of which I have spoken in the beginning of the\r\n“Dioptrics” and “Meteorics” should offend at first\r\nsight, because I call them hypotheses and seem indifferent about giving proof\r\nof them, I request a patient and attentive reading of the whole, from which I\r\nhope those hesitating will derive satisfaction; for it appears to me that the\r\nreasonings are so mutually connected in these treatises, that, as the last are\r\ndemonstrated by the first which are their causes, the first are in their turn\r\ndemonstrated by the last which are their effects. Nor must it be imagined that\r\nI here commit the fallacy which the logicians call a circle; for since\r\nexperience renders the majority of these effects most certain, the causes from\r\nwhich I deduce them do not serve so much to establish their reality as to\r\nexplain their existence; but on the contrary, the reality of the causes is\r\nestablished by the reality of the effects. Nor have I called them hypotheses\r\nwith any other end in view except that it may be known that I think I am able\r\nto deduce them from those first truths which I have already expounded; and yet\r\nthat I have expressly determined not to do so, to prevent a certain class of\r\nminds from thence taking occasion to build some extravagant philosophy upon\r\nwhat they may take to be my principles, and my being blamed for it. I refer to\r\nthose who imagine that they can master in a day all that another has taken\r\ntwenty years to think out, as soon as he has spoken two or three words to them\r\non the subject; or who are the more liable to error and the less capable of\r\nperceiving truth in very proportion as they are more subtle and lively. As to\r\nthe opinions which are truly and wholly mine, I offer no apology for them as\r\nnew,–persuaded as I am that if their reasons be well considered they will be\r\nfound to be so simple and so conformed, to common sense as to appear less\r\nextraordinary and less paradoxical than any others which can be held on the\r\nsame subjects; nor do I even boast of being the earliest discoverer of any of\r\nthem, but only of having adopted them, neither because they had nor because\r\nthey had not been held by others, but solely because reason has convinced me of\r\ntheir truth.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nThough artisans may not be able at once to execute the invention which is\r\nexplained in the “Dioptrics,” I do not think that any one on that\r\naccount is entitled to condemn it; for since address and practice are required\r\nin order so to make and adjust the machines described by me as not to overlook\r\nthe smallest particular, I should not be less astonished if they succeeded on\r\nthe first attempt than if a person were in one day to become an accomplished\r\nperformer on the guitar, by merely having excellent sheets of music set up\r\nbefore him. And if I write in French, which is the language of my country, in\r\npreference to Latin, which is that of my preceptors, it is because I expect\r\nthat those who make use of their unprejudiced natural reason will be better\r\njudges of my opinions than those who give heed to the writings of the ancients\r\nonly; and as for those who unite good sense with habits of study, whom alone I\r\ndesire for judges, they will not, I feel assured, be so partial to Latin as to\r\nrefuse to listen to my reasonings merely because I expound them in the vulgar\r\ntongue.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\r\nIn conclusion, I am unwilling here to say anything very specific of the\r\nprogress which I expect to make for the future in the sciences, or to bind\r\nmyself to the public by any promise which I am not certain of being able to\r\nfulfill; but this only will I say, that I have resolved to devote what time I\r\nmay still have to live to no other occupation than that of endeavoring to\r\nacquire some knowledge of Nature, which shall be of such a kind as to enable us\r\ntherefrom to deduce rules in medicine of greater certainty than those at\r\npresent in use; and that my inclination is so much opposed to all other\r\npursuits, especially to such as cannot be useful to some without being hurtful\r\nto others, that if, by any circumstances, I had been constrained to engage in\r\nsuch, I do not believe that I should have been able to succeed. Of this I here\r\nmake a public declaration, though well aware that it cannot serve to procure\r\nfor me any consideration in the world, which, however, I do not in the least\r\naffect; and I shall always hold myself more obliged to those through whose\r\nfavor I am permitted to enjoy my retirement without interruption than to any\r\nwho might offer me the highest earthly preferments.\r\n\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c!–end chapter–\u003e\r\n\u003cdiv style=\"display:block; margin-top:4em\"\u003e\u003c/div\u003e\r\n\u003c/article\u003e"}],"SectionSequence":["Back Link","Work Title","Deck","Author","Period","Era","Composition","Date Note","Region","Terra Avita","Terra Avita Region","Modern Country","Original Title","Language","Primary Discipline","Secondary Discipline","Tradition","Full Versions","Core Thesis","Classification","Arguments","Influence","Significance","Evidence Note","Full Text"],"Counts":{"ContextCards":3,"GeoCards":4,"DisciplineCards":2,"Links":11,"Sections":25,"Styles":3,"Scripts":1}}