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The Philosophical Writings of Descartes

VOLUME I

These two volumes provide a completely new translation of rhe philo-


sophical works of Descartes, based on the best available Larin and
French texts. They are intended to replace the only reasonably compre-
hensive selection of his works in English, by Haldane and Ross, first
published in 1911. All the works included in that edition are rranslated
here, together with a number of additional texts crucial for an under-
standing of Cartesian philosophy, including important material from
Descartes' scientific writings. The result should meet the widespread
demand for an accurate and authoritative edition of Descartes' philo-
sophical writings in clear and readable modern English.

Contents
VOLUME ONE

General Introduction
Chronological Table
Early Writings
Rules for the Direction of the Mind
The World
Treatise on Man
Discou rsc on the Method
Optics
Principles of Philosophy
Comments on a Certain Broadsheet
Description of the Human Body
The Passions of rhe Soul
Jndex

VOLU ME TWO

General Introduction
Chronological Table
Meditations on First Philosophy
Objections and Replies
Letter to Father Dinet
The Search for Truth
Index
The Philosophical Writings of
DESCARTES

translated by
JOHN COTTlt\GHAM
ROBERT STOOTHOFF
DUGALD MURDOCH

VOLUME I

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CA MBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS


CAMBRIDGE
1.0NOON NEW YORK NEW ROCHELLE
MELBOURNE SYDl\EY
Published by the Pre;s Syndicate of the University ol Cambridge
The Pitt Building, Trumpington Street, Cambridge CBL tRr
3 2 East 57th Street, New York, r-'Y 10012, U.S.A . .
io Stamford Road, Oaklcigh, ,v lelbourne 3166, Australia

Ca mbridge lJniversiry Press 1985


Contents
First published i985

Printed m Gr<at Britain at The Pitman Prc>s, Bath


General int roduc1ion page vm
Library o( Congress catalogue card number: 84-9399 Chronological table of Descartes' life and works xi

British Library Catalog11it1g in P11b/icatio11 Data


Early Writings
Descartes, Rene Translator's preface
The phi losophical writings of Descartes. Early Writings
Vol. t
1. Philosophy
I. Title II. Cotringham, j ohn Rules for the Direction of the Mind
111. S100thoff, Robert IV. Murd0<h, Dugald Tra11slator's preface 7
194 618;? Rules for the Direcrion of the Mind 9
R11/e One 9
1s&N o J2.I 2.45 94 x hard covers
R11le Two IO
ISBN o pt 18807 x paperback
Rule Three 13
R11le Four 15
Rule Five 20
E.X lt8AI$ Ruic Six :1.1
UNIYEAStT4ttl R11/c Seven :>.5
NOvl ~- R11/e Fight
Rule Nine
:i.8
33
<f/f/Yl1-1 Ruic re11 34
7 Rule Eleven l7
Rule Twelve 39
Ruic "/'/1irtcc11 51
Rule l-t111rlce11 56
Rule H(t1111 65
Ruli ~i.\lt'Cll 66
R11lt \"111111ce11 70
1<11/r l-:t11btee11 71
1<11/1 N11tl'tet11 76
I< 1tl1 J 111,11/y 76
l<ult f 1111111y-011e 76
PP i\/1/11'tttl1:c 77

lt

ll
vi Contents Contents Vil

The World and Treatise on Man Part Truo: The Number a11d Order of the Passions
Translator's preface 79 Part Three: Specific Passions
T he World or T reatise o n Light 81
Treatise on Man 99 Index

Discourse and Essays


Translator's preface 109
Discourse on the Method II r
Part Ont n r
Part T1110 II 6
Part Three T2.2.
Part Four I2.6
Part Five I 3r
Part Six 141
Optics 152.

Principles of Philosophy
Tra11slator's preface i 77
Preface to French edition 179
Dedicatory Letter to Elizabeth 1 90
Principles of Philosophy 193
Part One: The Pri11ciples of Human K11orvledge l 93
Part Truo: The Pri11ciples of Material Thi11gs 2:1.3
Part Three: The Visible Universe 248
Part Four: The Earth 267

Comments on a Certain Broadsheet


Tratrslator's preface i.9 3
Comments on a Certain Broadsheet 194

Description of the Human Body


Tra11slator's preface 3 13
Description of the Human Body and o f all its fun ctions 3 14

/'he Passions of the Soul


'/ m11slator's preface 325
l'riftttory letters 3 26
I he l'.1"1nns of the Soul 3 28
l'trl Otte: The Passio11s in General 3 .z.8
Ge11eral /11trod11ction ix

subsequently translated into French, and some of his French works into
Latin. O ur own t ranslations of Descarres' works arc made, in each case,
from 1he original language in which they were composed (fo r further
details see translators' prefaces to the individual works). Where subse-
quent translations a pproved by Descartes provide important additional
material , this has also been translated, but in footnotes or within
General Introduction diamond brackets < .. .>, to distinguish it from the original material.
We have thus firmly rejected the practice of Haldane and Ross, whose
translation, e.g. in the case of the Meditations and Pri11ciples, is based on
The aim of 1his t\vOvolumc edition i~ 10 provide a completely new an uneasy amalgam of the original Latin and later French editions, with
transla1ion of the philosophical writings of Descartes, based on the the result that the reader is frequent!)' left in the dark as to whether a
original Larin and French texts. Al1h ougb many of Descartes' philo given rendering corresponds to Descartes' original words or to the
sophical works are now available in English either indhiduall y or in formulation of one o f his con1emporary translators.
various selections, the onl y rolcrably comprebensive edition remains that We have endeavoured to make our translations as accurate as possible,
of Haldane and Ross, wbich firsl appeared in 191 r. 1 But although ir has while at the same time attempting to produce readable modern Engli sh.
come to be regarded as the standard English edition, HR omirs many Where Descartes employs technical terms which are now obsolete (e.g.
works which are crucia l for a full un<lersranding of Descartes' philo- 'objective reality') or uses expressions which are liable to cause difficulty
sophy. The pn:sem work, by contrast, aims to be as comprehen sive as to the modern student, we have supplied expl ana tory footnotes. Bur
possible. Considera1ions of space have prevented us from being as apart from this, we have tried to make the translations stand on their
inclusive as some, no doubt, would have wished; we have not, for own feet. Often we have found that the choice of a particular English
example, included any of Descartes' letters, partl y because an excellent word or phrase hinges on a complex chai11 of philosophi cal argument
selection is al ready available in English.1 But as well a~ incl uding all the which it it is impossible to ~ummariic adequately in a brief footnote; to
works to be found in Haldane and Ross, vi~. the Discourse on the do justice to the issues involved would have requ ired a formidable
Method, Meditations, Objections and Replies, Rules for the Oirecrio11 of exegeti ca l appara tus which would greatly have reduced the space avail -
the Mi11d, The Search for Tmth, Comme11ts 011 a Certai11 Broadsheet, able for presenting Descartes' own writings. We have also rejected the
The Passions of the So11l and selections from the Pri11ciples of Philo device, used sporadically by Haldane and Ross and others, of inserting
sophy, we have also provided cxtracrs from Descartes' Early Writi11gs, unexplai ned original Latin or French phrases when the translation is
from Tbe World, Treatise 011 Ma11, Optics and Descriptio11 of the difficult or problematical; such a proceeding merely tends to puzzle the
H11111an Body; our selection from the Pri11ciples, moreover, includes reader having no French or Latin, and is of doubtful value to those who
many articles not translated in Haldane and Ross. In gc nernl, we have arc able to consult the origi nal texts for themselves. In cases where we
construed the term 'philosophical' in a fairly generous way, so as to have found it necessary to refer to Latin or French rerms in our footnotes,
include, as wel l as Descartes' more celebrated metaphysical and episte- we have always explained their meaning.
mological w<)rks, a fair selection of his scientific writings (on physiology, In dividi ng the material between 1he two volumes, we have <iccidcd to
psychology, physics and cosmology), which arc likely robe of interest to rlacc the Meditations and the Obiections and Replies together, ,i11cc 1h~y
students of philosophy and allied disciplines. .ire imcrconneacd in the closest possible way, and wrn originally
Desca rtes wrote with equal fluency in Laci n and French, and publ ished published by Descartes as a single book. These work~ ccnnrmc 1he bulk
in both languages; within his lifetime some of his Lnin works were of Volume Two; :ilso included is The Search f<>r '/'ruth, whose exact
d.ue i~ uncertain but which was probably com r o,ed 1n the "imc period as
1hc Mcrlitarions, and deab wirh many of th< ,,11111 thtmc~. Volume One
1 The J>bi/osop/Jica/ \li'orks of Descartes, tr. Elisabeth S. Haldane aod G. R. T. Ross wn1:1in~ all the remaining works, arrang<d 111 t'h11111nlo)lical o rder. Each
2
(C.1nbndgt: CUP, 1911 , rtpr. 193 1).
Dtuartes, Phtlosophicat Ltt1m, er. A. Kenny (Oxford: OUP, 1970: r<pr. Oxford: work" preceded by an introductory nol ' 111111111 "''"'I' of i1 ~ composi-
Bbckwell, 1980). 11on and origin.ii publicauon. Comprchrn"H tlnlmophica l rndcxes are
VJJI
General lntroducrio11

included at the eod of each volume, and each volume also contain~ .t hricf
chronological table of Descartes' life and works.
Ou r tra nslations are based on the texts to be found in the st.tnd.trd
twelve-volume editi on of Descartes' works by Adam and T a1111cry
(known as AT). 1 We have, however, consulted many other editions, and
where these have been of particular ''alue they are mentioned m the
prefaces to individ ual works. Important departures front the text in AT Chronological table of Descartes' life and works
are record ed in footnotes. Where the text is abridged, o mitted material is
indicated by dots, thus . .. , and further information is supplied in a
footnote. For each work we have supplied, in the margins, running r596 born ac La Haye near Tours on 31 }.farch
cross-references to the page number of the relevant vol ume of AT. It t606-14 anends Jesuit college of La Acchc at Anjou 1
should be noted that, unless otherwise indicated, all comments in t6t6 takes Baccalaurent and Licence in law at Univers ity of f'oiti ers
footnotes arc those of che translators, not of Descan es. r 6r8 goes to Holland; joins army of Prince Maurice of Nassau;
The work of translation has been divided as follows: John Coningham meets Isaac Beeckman; composes a short treatise on music,
has translated the Meditations, Ob1ectio11s 1md Replies, Early \Vrirings, the Compendium Musicae
Principles of Philosop/1)' a nd Description of the H11111n11 Body; Robert travels in Germany; ro November: has vision o f new mathe
Stoothoff has translated The \Vorld, Treatise 0 11 Ma11, Discourse 011 the matica l and scientific system
Method, Optics, The Passions of the So11l and the fuse half of The Search 162.2. returns ro France; during next few years spen ds time in Paris,
for Truth; and Dugald Murdoch has translated the Rules for the but also !ravels in Europe
Direction of the Mind, Comme111s on a Certain Broadsheet and the t6:i.8 composes Rules for the Dircctio11 of the Mind; leaves for
second half o( The Search for Truth. All the members of the team have, Hollan d, which is to be his home until 1649, though with
however, scrutinized each orhcr's work, and made numerous sugges- frequent changes of address
tions, many of which have found their way into the final versions. begins working on 'fhe World
We a rc happy to :1cknowl cdge o ur debt to the many previo us condemnation of Galileo; abandons plans to publish The
translators, editors and writers - 100 numerous to list here - who have \Vorld
contributed 10 our understanding of Descartes' works. In a project of this birch of Descartes' natural daughter Francine, baptized
size it is no empty formality to acknowledge our own responsibility for 7 August (died 1 640)
rhc shortco mings that undoubted ly remain; we can onl y enter as o ur pica publishes Discourse 0 11 the Method, with Optics, Meteorolo-
the words with which Descartes himself concluded the Meditations - gy and Geometry
11at11rae 11ostrae i11fin11iras est agnoscenda. Meditario11s on First Philosophy published, together with
Objections a11d Replies ( first six sets)
john Cottingham second editio n of Meditatio11s pub lished, with all seven sets
U11iversity of Readi11g, England of Objectio11s a11d Replies and Letter to Dinet
Cartesian philosophy condemned at the University o{ Utrecht;
Robert Stoothoff
Descartes' long correspondence with Princess Elizabeth of
Dugald M urdoch
Bohemia begi ns
U11iversity of Canterb11ry, New 7.ealand.
visits Frnnce; Principles of Philosophy published

1 l)ese:1n1.11 1i. known to have stayed :it La flt:che: forc1ght or nine yc:irs, burthttxac.tdatcs
of hii. :urivnl :wd dep:i rturc are unccrmin. Baillet places Dcscnrtcs' admission in [604,
1 Oeuvres de Dt!Uarles, ~d1tcd by c::h. Adam and P. Tannery (revised edition, Paris: 1h<" )'C'.ir o( tht Co1lr1tc:\. foundation (A. Baille1, La 11ie de M. DtsC(lrtes ( i 691 ), vol. r~
Vrin/C.:-1.R.S., 196~-76). p. 1M).

xi
xii Chronological Table

award ed a pension by King of France; publi shes Comments


on a Certai11 Broadsheet; begins work o n Description of the Early Writings
Human Body
interviewed by Frans Burman at Egmond-Binnen (Conversa-
tion 111itb Burman)
goes to Sweden on invirarion of Queen Christina ; The
Pamom of the Soul published Translator's preface
1650 dies at Stockholm on tr February

An inventory of Descartes' papers made at Stock holm after hi s death


mentions a sma ll notebook containing various early writings, apparently
composed during Descartes' travels in Europe during the years 1619-:1.:2..
The notebook is now lost, but a copy taken by Leibniz was later
discovered and published under the title Cogitatio11es Privatae ('Priva te
thoughts') in 1859. This Lat in text, as published with minor correcti ons
in Volume x of Adam and Tannery, 1 is the source of the extracts
translated below.
According to Descartes' biographer Adrien Baillet (164sr1706), the
original notebook (which he inspected) was divided into variou s sect i()nS
under different headings. TI1ese included J>raeambula ('Preliminaries')
with the mono 'The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom';
Experimenta ('Observations'); and Olympi'a ('Olympian matters'). The
probable positionings of these headings are indicated below, though the
co rrect grouping and ordering of the ex tracts is a matter of conj ecture,
;incc no divisions or headings were provided in Leibniz' copy. A derailed
,tudy of che Early Writings may be found in Henri Gouhier, Les
l'remieres J>e115tfes de Descartes (Paris: Vrin, 1958 ).
J.C.
1 See General Introduction, above p. x.
Early Writings

T he sciences are at present masked, but if the masks were taken o ff, :z.T s
they wo uld be revealed in all their bea uty. If we could sec how rhe
sciences arc lin ked together, we would 6nd them no harder to retain in
our minds tha n the series of numbers.

For each o( us there is a set limit to our imellecrual powers which we


cannot pass. Those who, through lack of intelligence, cannot make
ATX EARLY WRITINGS
discoveries by employing first principles, will still be able to recognize the
true worth of the sciences, and this w ill enable them to arrive at a correct
judgement of the value of things.
Preliminaries
1 13 Actors, taught not ro let any cmbarrassmem show on their faces, put on a
mask. I will do 1he same. So far, I have been a spectator in this theatre
Observations
which is the world, but I am now about to mount the stage, and I come I use the term 'vices' to refer to the diseases of the mind, which are not so
forward masked. easy t0 recognize as diseases of 1he body. This is because we have
frequently experienced sound bodily health, bur ha"e never known true
1 14 In my youth, when I was shown an ingenious invention, I used co health of the mmd.
wo nder whether l could work it o ut for myself before reading the
inventor's account. This practice gradually led me to realize that l was I notice chat if I am sad or in danger and preoccu pied by so me serious
making use of definite rules. undcrrnking, I sleep deeply and eat voracio usly. But if J am full of joy, I
do not cac or sleep.
Science is like a woman: if she srnys faithful to her husband she is
respected; if she becomes common property she grows t0 be despised. In a gorclcn we can prod uce shadows to represent certain shapes, such
as crccs; or we can tri m a hedge so thac from a certain perspective it 2 l6
In the case of most books, once we have re~d a few lines and looked at represents a given ohape. Again, in a room we can arrange for the rays o f
a few of the diagrams, the entire message is perfectly o bvious. T he rest is the sun 10 pass through various openings so as to represent different
added only to fill up t he paper. numbers o r figures; or we can make it seem as if there arc 10ngues of
name, or chariots of fire , or orhcr shapes in rhc air. This is all done by
The mathematica l treasure trove of l'olybius, citizen of the world. 1 mirro rs which focus the sun's rays at various poinrs. Again, we can
This work la)S dow n the true means of solving all the difficulties in the arrange things so that when the sun is shining into a room, it always
science of ma1hema tics, and demonstrates rha1 the human intellect can seems to come from the same direction, or seems to go from west to cn>1.
achieve norhing further on these quc>lions. The work is aimed at certain This is all done by parabolic reAcctors: the sun's rays must foll on a
people who promise to show u~ miraculous discoveries in all the sciences, concave mirror on the roof, and the mirror's focal point mu,1 h.- m lmc
its purpose being co chi de 1hem for their sluggishness and to expose the with a small hole, on the other side of which is another con'"" mirror
emptiness of their boam. A further aim is to lighten the agonizing toil of with rhe same focal distance, which is also aligned on llw hole. l his
those who struggle night and day with the Gordian knots of this science, causes the sun's rays to be cast in parallel lines ins1dr dw mom. 1
and who squander their imellcaual resources to no avail. The work is
offered afresh to learned men 1hroughout the world and especiall)' to the In 1hc )'Car 1620, I began to understand 1hc fuml.1111 .. n1.1 I principles of a
distinguished bro1hers o f the Rose Croix in Germany.1 wonderful di>t."Ovcry.

1 yidemly a pstudon)rn which ~ants conl(mplatcd usmg. 1 I ht" on~an.11 nl elm pttlir ''in I rlmh .ind nOI, .l\ I\ th1 ' ! y, 1th .1ll 1h< ochc-r txrrJccs, m
1 "Afresh': wh~u Dtscanrs mc~uu hm:: lS not l:no~ n. The rcfcrcn tO tht" Ros.icrucians I.um.
m3y well be 1romcil.
4 Earl) \'l/ri1i11gs Early Writings

In November 1619, I had a dream involving the Seventh Ode of The pronouncements of the learned can be reduced to a very sma ll
Ausonius, whid1 begins Quod vitae sectabor iter ('What road in life shall I number of general rules.
follow?'). 1
Before the end of Nov em bee l shall head for Loretto. l intend to go 1l 8
~r 7 It is jusr as valuable to be censured by friends as it is splendid to be there on foot from Venice, if this is feasible and is rhe custom. If not, I
praised by enemies. We desire praise from those who do not know us, but will make Lh c pilgrimage with all the devotion thar anyone could
from friends we want the truth. normally be expected to show.
At all events I will complete my treatise before Easter, and if I can find
In the minds of all of us there arc certain elements which once aroused, publishers, and I am satisfied with what I manage to produce, I shall
however slightly, produce mong emotions. Thus, if a high-spirited child publish it. This is the promise I have made today, 13 February 1610.
is scolded, he will not weep bur get angry, whereas another child will
weep. If we arc told 1ha1 some disaster has occurred we are sad; but if we There is a single active power in things: love, charity, harmony.
are afterwards told that some wicked man was responsible, we become
angry. In moving from one passion to another, we pass through The things which arc perceivable by the senses are helpful in enabling
intermediate related passions. Bu t often there will be a more violent us to conceive of Olympian matters. The wind signifies spirit; mo,emem
transition from one passion to its opposite, as when in the course of a with the passage of time signi fies life; light signifies knowledge; heat
lively banquet we suddenly hear news of some misfortune. signifies love; and instantaneous activity signifies creation. Every cor-
poreal form acts through harmony. There are more wet things than dry
things, and more cold things than hor, because if this were not so, the
Olympian matters 2 active elements would have won the battle too quickly and the world
Just as the imagination employs figures in order to conceive of bodies, so, wou ld not have lasted long.
in order m frame ideas of spiritual things, the intellect makes use of
certain bodies which :ire perceived through the senses, such as wind and 'God separated rhe light from the darkness.' This rexr in Genesis means
liglll. By this means we may ph ilosophize in a more exalted way, and that God separated the good angels from the bad angels. The text cannot
develop the knowledge to raise o ur minds ro lo ft)' heights. be unders tood li terally, since a privation can not be separated from a
It may seem surpris ing to find weighty judgements in the writings of positive state. God is pure inrclligencc.
the poets rather rhan the philosophers. The reason is that the poets were
d riven to write by enthusi asm and the force of imagination. We have The Lord has made three marvels: something o ut of nothing; free will;
within us the sparks of knowl edge, as in a flint: philosophers exrract and God in Man.
them through reason, but poets force them out through the sharp bl ows
of rhe imagination, so that they shiue more brightly. Man has knowledge of natural things only through their resemblnnCl'
1 The drtam occurred in Descanes' famous sm"e.heartd room' in southern Germ.any to rhc things which come under the senses. Indeed, our estimate of how
(probably Ulm). Accord'"& to 8'11l<t, Dcscum went to bed on to November 1619 'full much truth a person has achieved in bis philosophizing will incrcJ'c the ::.19
of tn1husiasm, con\1nccd be had d1SOO\crcd tht foundauons or 3 1113rvcllous scienet'. He more he has been able to propose some similarity between wh.u he >
then h:ad three consccuri\C dream~ In lhc first he w01s a~~a11ed b)' phamoms and a
whirlwind, ind ldt pin m hos sid< which he feared had bttn produced by some .vii inl'estigaring and the things known by the senses.
d<mon. In th< 0<cond ht hcud rtrnblc no..., lrkc a thunderd1p. In the third hc opened a
"olumc of pocrry and found th< V<r quored hcrc (by [)C(lus Mgnus AU<Onius, a n.e high degree of perfection displayed in some of thm ,JllllHl> makes
Roman po<1 of the lnurth ctnrury A.O., "ho lived in Bord<aDJ<). On waking, !><scar,.. us suspect that animals do not have free will.l
interpreted htS drt"ams as cfldtn of Jus dn11nr to produce 3 ne\\' mathematical and
$Citntific sysrtm. and mack .i \ OW to tht V1rgm to 'I.sit htr shnne at Loretto. Full details
o( thc cposodc arc giv<n 1n Adnrn 8:11ll<t's Lift of Dtsmrtts (la Vie de M. Des.Carr.,,
1'9), vol. r, pp. 8o-<\ (quoted in Al x 18off). 1 1lcrC", J\ ohln in '""'.lrlf". 1hC" tctn~ rhtk~~ortn . '1!11'4"11l'l111r' ch . mdudc wh;u
Accocdrng to 801llct, dt$Crrp1ton by Descartes ol hlS discovery in 1619 o( th wc~uld no"~H_JJ)' he ,.1111 ~IC'nlifk. r c.a,omn~.
foundauons of 3 wondtr(ul 5c1cn. ougm:&lly bdong(d in thu stioo or rht nore:book. 1 SttbtlOW, /)1J<1>W$t, pMt ~. p. I ''J ,ult) /)t1nC1('/(,, p.ul I , llt \i. fl J.0~.
Rules for the Direction of the Mind

Translator's preface

Descartes ' Rules for the Direction of the Mind (Reg11Jae ad Directionem
lngenii) was written in Latin, probably in r6:1.8 or a few years earlier, but
was not published during the author's lifetime. A Dutch translation of
the work appeared in Holland in 1684, and the first Latin edition was
published in Amsterdam by P. and J. ll laeu in 17oi. 1
In the inventory of Descartes ' papers made at Stockholm shortly after
his death in r6 50 the work is listed as 'Nine notebooks bound together,
containing part of a Treatise on dear and usefu l Rules for rhe Direction
of the Mind in the Search for Truth'. The original manuscript, which is
lost, passed to Claude Clerselier, one of Descartes' staunchest supporters,
who showed the work to severa l scholars, including Antoine Arnauld.
The manuscript was seen also by Adrien Baillet, Descartes' biographer,
who gave a summary of its conrents in his La Vie de Mo11sil'ur
Des-Cartes (x691 ). Leibniz bought a copy of the original manuscript in
Amsterdam in 1670, and this copy has survived among the Leibniz
papers in the Royal Public Library at Hanover.
The Rules was originally intended to contai n three parts, each
comprising twelve rules. The second set of twelve rules is incomplete,
ending at Rule Twenty-one, and only the headings of Rules Nineteen to
Twenty-one arc given. The final set of twelve Rules is entirely miss ing; it
appears that Descartes left this project unfinished. The first twelve Rules
are concerned with simple propositions and the rwo cogn itive operations
by means of which they are known, intuition and deduction. The second
set deal with what Descartes calls 'perfectly understood problems', i.e.
problems in which the object of inquiry is a unique function of the data
and which can be expressed in the forms of equations. Problems of this
sort are confined largely to the sphere of mathematics. The projected
third set of Rules would have dealt with ' imperfectly understood
problems', i.e. problems which, owing to the mulriplicity of the data
involved, resist expression in the form of an equation; problems of this
sort are prominent in the empirical sciences. Descartes had intended ro

r /~ , Des-C11r1cs Opu:scu/a poslhrmw. physic:a ti ma1hematica.

7
8 R11/es for the Directio11 of the Mind

show how imperfectly understood problems can be reduced to perfectly


understood ones.
The present translation is based primarily on the text in Volume x of
Adam and Tanncry.1111erc are differences of detail between the Amster-
dam edition of 17ol and the Hanover manuscript; they were probably
based o n different copies of the original manu script. Where the two texts
differ, th e r701 edi tion in most cases provides the better reading, and RULES FOR THE DIRECTION OF T HE MIND AT X
Adam and Tannery generally follow this text. In several instances, 359
however, readings orhcr than those adopted by Adam and Tannery have
been preferred in ihc present translation; these are described in footnoics Rule One
when the variams are not given in Adam and Tannery, or when neither of
The aim of our studies should be to direct the mi11d with a vie111 to
the alrernative variants yields an obviously preferable reading. The
forming tme and soimd judgements about whatever comes before it.
critical edition of Giovanni Crapulli 1 has been n useful supplement to
Adam and Tannery, and several of Cra1>t1lli's readings have been Whenever people notice so me simila rity between two th in gs, they arc in
adopted. the habit of ascribing to the one what they find true of the other, even
In the footnotes the Amsterdam edi tion of r70J is referred to as A, and when the two are not in that respect si milar. Thus they wrongly compa re
the Hanover manuscript as H. the sciences, which consist wholly in knowledge acquired by the mind,
D.M. with the arts, which require some bodily aptitude and practice. They
1 Stt General 1111rodua1on. p. x above. recognize that one man cannot master all the ans at once and that it is
~ Rt:nt ~S<artn: Rey,,/at ad dirutron~m ingnm: texu crl/lq11r itwbli p:tr Giov.ilfm easier to excel as a craftsman if one practises only one skill; for one man 360
Crapulli al'Oc /, wrSKNt bolla>1d<1iu du XVlttm<' St;c/e (lltc H2gue: Martinus Ni1hoff, cannot turn his hand to both farming and harp-playing, or to several
1966).
different tasks of th is kind, as easily as he can to jusr one o( them. This
has mt1de people come to think that the same must be true of the sciences
as well. Distinguish ing the sciences by the differences in their o bjects,
they think that each science should be studied separately, withoutregard
to any of the others. Bur here they arc surely mistaken. For the sciences as
a whole are nothing other than human wisdom, which always remains
one and the same, however different the subjects to which it is applied, it
being no more altered by them than sunlight is by the variery of the things
tt shines on. l lencc there is no need to impose any restrictions on our
mental powers; fonhe knowledge of one truth does not, like skill in one
art, hinder us from discovering another; on the co ntrary it help; l".
Indeed, ir seems strange to me that so many people should in vc,1iwuc
wirh such dili gence the virtllcs of plnms, 1 the motions of l'iw st.irs, the
tr:insmtHat ions of metals, and the objects of similar di,cipli nt,, while
h:ir<lly anyone gives a tho ught to good sense - to un iver"1I Wt\1 10111. For
every mhcr ;cicnce is 10 be va lued no1 so much for ih m\ 11 "'kt .1' for its
>ntribu1ion 10 un iversal wisdom. Hence, we h:l\ c 1c.1"111 to prnp1~c this
,,, our very lir;1 rule, since whar makes us srra) from tl11 <11rrrc1 way of
'>tck1ni: tht truth b chiefly our ignoring the 1tt111r.1I r11d of universal
I ht cr,unl.mcm here follo,1.'> thC' tclCt\ of 1\ ..and 11. A I , h1llu\o't.lllK 1rn t'tl'IC'l'ldntum by
I <1h1111, l t'lhl 'the u1.,ton1s o( nwn, 1hC' \ltrt rn:~ of pl.11H , ~

'I
10 Rules for the Directio11 of the Mi11d Rule Two lX

wisdom and directing our studies towards some particular ends. I do not knowledge, since, owing to a common human failing, they have dis-
mean vile and despicab le ends such as empty glory or base gain: specious da ined to reflect upon such ind ubitable truths, taking them to be too easy
arguments and tricks suited to vulgar minds clea rly provide a much more and o bvious to everyone. But there are, I insist, a lot more of these t ru ths
direct route to these ends than a sound knowledge of the truth could than such people think - truths which suffice for the sure demonstration
provide. I have in mind, rather, respe~table and commendable ends, for of countless propositions which so far they have managed to treat as no
these are often more subtly misleading - ends such as the pursuit of more tha n probable. Because they have thought it unbecoming for a man 363
sciences conducive to the comforts of life or to the pleasure to be ga ined of learning to admit ro bei ng ignorant on any matter, they have got so
from contemplating the truth, which is practica lly the only happi ness in used to elaborating their co ntrived doctrines that they have gradually
this life that is co mplete and untroubled by any pa in. We can indeed look come to believe them and to pass them off as true.
forward to these legitimate fruits of the sciences; bur if we think of chem Nevertheless, if we adhere strictly to th is Ru le, there will be very few
during o ur studies, they frequently cause us to overlook many items things which we can get down co studying. for there is hardly any
which are required for a knowledge of other things, because at first question in the sciences abom which clever men have not frequently
glance they seem of little use or of little interest. It must be acknowledged disagreed. Bu t whenever two persons make opposite judgements about
that all the sciences are so closely interconnected that it is much easier to the same thing, it is certain that at least one of them is mistaken,
lear n them all together than to separate one fro m the other. If, therefore, and neitl1er, it seems, has knowledge . For if the reason ing of one of
someone serio usly wishes to investigate the tru th of th ings, he o ught not chem were certain an d evidenc, he would be able to lay it before the other
to select one science in part icular, for they are all interconnected and in such a way as eventua lly to convince his intellect as well. Therefore,
interdependent. He should, rather, consider simply how to increase the concerning all such matters of probable opinion we can, I think, acquire
natural light of his reason, 11ot with a view to solving this or that no perfect knowledge, for it would be presumptuous to hope that we
scholastic problem, but in order thar his intellect should show his will could gain more knowledge than ochers have managed to achieve.
what decision it o ught to make in each of life's contingencies. He will Accordingly, if my reckoning is correct, out of all the sciences so far
soon be surprised to find t hat he has made far greater progress than those devised, we are restricted to just arithmetic and geometry if we stick to
who devote themselves to particular studies, and chat he has ach ieved not this Rule.
only everything that che specialists aim at but also goals far beyond any Yet I do not wish on tha; account co condemn that method of
they can hope to reach . phil osophizing which others have hitherto devised, nor those weapons of
the schoolmen, probable syllogisms, 1 which are just made for con-
Rule Two troversies. For these exercise the minds of che young, stimulating them
\'ile should attend only to those objects of which our minds seem capable with a certa in rivalry; and it is much better that their minds should be
of ba1.1ing certain and i1tdubitable cognition. informed with opinions of that sort - even though they arc evidently 364
All knowledge' is certain and evident cognition. Someone who has uncerta in, being cont rovers ial among the learned - than that they shou ld
doubts about many things is no wiser than one who has never given them be left entirely to their ow n devices. Perhaps witho ut guidance they might
a thought; indeed, he appears less w ise if he has formed a false opinion head cowards a precipice, but so long as they follow in their master,
about any of chem . Hence it is better never to study at all than to occupy foomeps (th ough straying at times lrom the truth), they will surely hold
ourse lves with o bjects which are so difficult that we are unable to to a course tha t is more secure, at least in the sense that ir h:1~ nlrc:1dy
distinguish what is true from what is false, and are forced to take the been reseed by wiser heads. For our part, we are very glad th.It we had a
doubtful as certain ; for in such matters the risk of dim inishing our scholastic education of rhis sort. Bue we are now frct'll fro111 the oath
knowledge is greater than our hope of increasing it. So, in accordance which bound us to our master's words and arc old <'n1111gh to be no
with this Rule, we reject all such merely probable cognition and resolve longer subject to the rod. So if we seriously wish w JlI'll(l<c ru les for
to believe only what is perfectly known and incapable of being doubted. ourse lves which wi ll help us sca le the heighrs of h u 111 ,111 knowledge, we
Men of learning are perhaps convinced that there is very little indubitable must include, as one of our prima ry rules, thu 1 we h o11ld tnk< care not
1 Lar. sdentia, Descartes' rtrm for systcmaric knowledge based on indubirable founda
1 I.e. sy llc,~ism i.. who~e pr<'misscs ore hdicvC"J, b 111 mu \ 11uw11, 10 he 1rue.
cions.
1?. Rules for the Dircctio11 of the Mind Rule Three 13
to wasce our time by ncgleaing easy casks and occupying ourselves only ourselves on ly with objects which admit of as much certai nty as the
with difficult matters. Thar is jus1 whar many people do: they ingeniously demonstrations of arich meric and geometry.
construct the mosr subtle conjcccures and plausible argu ments on difficul1
qucstioM, but after all their efforts they come to realize, roo late, rha1 Rule Three
racher than acquiring any knowledge, 1hcy have merely increased rhc Concerning objects proposed for study, we ought to i11vestigate what we
number of rheir doubts. cm1 clearly and evidently intuit1 or deduce with certainty, and not what
Of all the sciences so far discovered, arithmetic and geometry alone other people have thought or what we ourselves co11jecture. For know-
are, as we said above, free from any 1aint of falsiry or uncertainry. If we ledge2 can be attained m no other way.
arc to give a ca reful es1ima1e of the reason why chis should be so, we
36 5 sbould bear in mind that there arc two ways of arriving at a knowledge of We ought to read rhe writings of the ancie111s, for it is of great advantage
things - through experience and th rough deduction. Moreover, we must to be able to make use of the labours of so many men. We should do so
nme tha1 while our experiences of rhings arc often decepcive, the both in order to learn what truth s have already been discovered and also
deduction or pu re inference of one thing from another can never be ro be informed abou1 the poincs which remain ro be worked om in the
performed wrongly by an intellect which is in the least degree rational , various disciplines. But at the same rime there is a co nsiderab le danger
rhough we may fail co make rhc inference if we do not sec it. Fur- rhar 1 we study these works too closely traces of their errors wil l infect us
thermore, those chains with which dialecticians1 suppose they regulate and ding m us againsr our will and despite our precaurions. for, once
human reason seem to me to be of little use here, th ough I do not deny writers have credulously and heedlessly taken up a posirion o n some
that they are ver)' useful for other purposes. In fact none of rhe errors to controversial question, they arc genera lly inclined to employ the most
which men - men, I say, not the bruces - are liable is ever due 10 faulry subtle arguments in an attempt ro get us to adopt their point of view. On
inference; they are due only to rhc foct that men rnkc for granted certain the ~ther hand_, whenever rhey have the luck ro discover something
poorly understood obscrvations,1 or lay down rash and groundless certain and cv1dcnr, they always present ir wrapped up in various 36 7
judgements. obscu rities, _either b_ecausc they fear that th e si mplicity of their argument
These considcracions make ii obvious why arithmetic and geometry may depreciare the importance of their finding, or beca use rhey begrudge
prove to be much mo re certai n rhan other djscip lines: they alone arc u~ the plain truth.
concerned with an object so pure and simple that they make no But even if a ll writers were sincere and open, and never tried 10 palm
assumptjons that experience might render uncertain; they consist entirely o~ doubtful matters as true, bur instead put forward everything in good
in deducing conclusions by means of rational arguments. They are fmth, _we woul_d always be uncenain which of chem to believe, for hardly
therefore the easiest and clearest of all the sciences and have just the so rt anyt hmg is sa id by one writer the contrary of which is not asserted by
of objec1 we arc looking for. Where these sciences are concerned it some other. It would be of no use to count heads, so as ro follow the view
scarcely seems humanly possible to err, except through inadvertence. Yet which many authorities hold. For ii rhe question at issue is a difficult one
we should not be surprised if many prefer of their own accord to apply it_is more likely that few, rather than many, should have been able u;
their minds to other arts, or to philosophy. The reason !Or rhis is rhar d 1~cover the truth about it. But even if they all agreed among thcmscl vc~.
everyone feels free co make more confident guesses about maners which rhcir teaching would s1ill no1 be all we need. For example, even thouJlh
366 are obscure than about matters which are clear. It is much cosier ro we know other people's demonstrations by heart, we shall ncvl'r l>ccomc
hazard some co njecture on this o r that question than to arrive at the mathematicians if we lack the inteJlecrual aptitude to solvt ,111y given
exact truth abour one particular quesrion, however straighrforward it problem. And even though w e have read al l the argument' of J'l.110 and
may be. Arhtotle, we \hall never become philosophers if we art" un.1hl< ro make a
Now the con dusion we should draw from these considerarions is not ;ound judgement on matters which come ur for di\<Ul\lon; 111 this case
that arithmetic and geomctr)' are rhe only sciences worth studying, but wlrnt we wo11ld seem 10 have learnt would 110 1 lw 1<w11n hut history.
rather that in seeking the righ1 path of 1ruth we ough1 10 concern
I .u. '"'""' luculh.- IU ac:111.1l:, g;u(' .1t'~ u~ bv Ur'' .utr 1 .a lC\-lm1,.d tt'nn (or
c Dcsc.utcs' term for scholnsric logic see l>elow, Pmu:i/>les, p. 186. llllUH'.'d1.1tc llRIU.11 .tpprdtC'll\lun.
.z. L:tt. t:xpt!n'mema; sec footnocc: on the equi valent French term expjritnces, p. 14j bcJow. 1 I UI H l""ltll ; \l'(' luolllOlt' ()0 p. 10 ,thO V\'.
Rules for the D irection of the Mi11d Rule Four 15

Furthermore, we would be well-advised not co mix any conjectures whatever. Take for example, the inference that :t plus 2 equals 3 plus l:
into the judgements we make about the truth of things. It is mo;t nor only must we intuitively perceive that 2 plus 2 make 4, and that 3
importa nt to bear this point in mind. Tiie main reason why we can find plus r make 4, but also that the o riginal proposition Follows necessarily
nothing in ordi nary philosoph y wh ich is so evident and certain as to be from the other two.
368 beyond dispute is that students of the subject first of all arc not content to There may be some doubt here about our reason for suggesting
acknowledge what is dear and certain, but on the basis of merely another mode of knowi ng in addirion to intuition, vh. deduction, by
probable conjectures venture also to make assertions on obscure matters which we mean the mfcrcnce of something as following necessarily from
about which nothing is known; they then graduall y come to have some other propositions which arc known wi th certainty. But th is
complete faith in these assertions, indiscriminatel y mixi ng them up wirh distinction had to be made, since very many facts which are not
others th at are true aod evident. T he result is that the only concl usions self-evident are known with certainty, provided they are inferred from
they can draw are ones which apparently rest o n some such obscure true a nd known principles through a continuo us and uninterrupted
proposition, and which are acoordingly uncertain. movement of thought in which each individua l proposition is dearly
But in case we in rum should olip into the same error, let us now review inruited. This is similar ro the way in which we know that the last link in
all the actions of the intellect by means of which we arc able to arrive at a a long chain is connecK'<i to the first: even if we cannot take in at one 370
knowledge of things with no fear of being mjscakcn. We recognize on ly glance all the intermediate links on whjch the connection depends, we
two : inruition and dedu ctio n.' can. have knowledge of the connection provided we survey the links one
By ' intuition' 1 do not mean the fluctuating testimony of the senses or after the other, and keep in mind that each link from first to last is
the deceptive judgement of the imagination as it hotches things together, attached to its neighbour. Hence we are distinguishing mental intuition
but the conceptio n of a clea r and attentive mind, which is so easy and from certain deducti on on the grounds that we are aware of a movement
distinct that there can be no room for doubt about what we are or a sore of sequence in the latter but not in the former, and also because
understanding. Alternatively, and this comes to the same thing, inruinon unmediate self-evidence is not required for deduaion, as iris for intuition;
is the indubitable conception of a clear and attentive mind which deduaion in a sense gets its certainty from memory. Ir follows that those
proceeds solely from the lighr of reason. Because it is simpler, it is more propositions which arc immediately inferred from first principles can be
certain th an deductio n, tho ugh deduction, as we noted above, is not sa id to be known in one respect through intuition, and in another respect
so mething a man can perform wrongly. n1us everyone can mentally 1hro ugh deduction. But the first principles themselves arc known only
intuit that he exists, that he is thinking, that a triangle is bounded by just lh rough intuition, and the remote conclusions only through deduction.
three lines, and a sphere by a single surface, and the like. Perccprions such 'These rwo ways are the most certain routes to knowledge that we
as these arc more numerous than most people realite, disdaining as they have. So far as our powers of understanding are ooneerned, we should
do co turn their minds to such simpl e matters. .1c.lmit no more than these and should reject all others as suspect and
3 69 In case anyone should be tro ubled by my novel use of the term liable to error. This does not preclude ou r believing that what has been
'intu ition ' and of other terms to which I shall be forced to give a different revea led by God is mo re ce rta in than any knowledge, since: faith in these
meaning from their o rdinarr on e, I \vish to point out here that I am matters, as in anything obscure, is an RCt of the will rather than an act of
paying no attention to the way these terms have lately been used in the the understanding. And if our fai th has a basis in our intellect, revealed
Schools. For it would be very difficu lt for me to employ the same term 1 nnhs above all can and should be discovered by one or other of the two
inology, when my own views arc profoundly different. I shall take ways we have just described, as we may show ac greater lm~th below.
account only of the meanings in Latin of individual words and, when
appropriate words ar e lacking, 1 shall use what seem the most suitable Rule Four 371
words, adapting them to my own meaning.
The self-evidence and certainty of intuition is requi red not only for
w,. llt'l'd a 1111'1/md if ive are to investigate tbe trur/J ri{ 1/111111; .
apprehending single propositions, but also for any train of reasoning ~o lilind i ~ the ~u riMit y wi th which mortal\ .He p<>"l'"1d th.it 1hcy often
dm< t their nund\ down untrodden path, 111 tlw 1;11111111llt" hope that
1 111duaio in A, almost ~n~inJy a misprint for J~r1aio. th1y will ch.1nn upon what they arc >cck111~, r.ulwr h~1 'omronc who is
Rules for the Direction of the Mind Rule Four l7

consumed with such a senseless desire to discover treasure that he So useful is this method that without it rbe pursuit of learning would, l
continually roams the streets ro see if he can find any that a passer-by think, be more harmful than profitable. Hence l can readily believe that
might have dropped. This is how almost every chemist, most geomccers, the great minds of the past were to some extent aware of it, guided ro ir
and many philosophers pursue their research. l am not denying that they even by nature alone. For the human mind has within it a sorr of spark of
sometimes are lucky enough in their wanderings to hfr up<>n some truth, the divine, in which the first seeds of useful ways of thinking arc sown,
though on that account l rate them more fortunate than diligenr. But it is seeds which, however ncglccrcd and stiOed by studies which impede
for better never to contemplate investigating the truth about any matter them, often bear fruit of their own accord. This is our experience in the
than to do so without a method. For it is quite certain that such simplest of sciences, arithmetic and geometry: we are well aware thar the
haphnzard studies and obsCLLre reflections blur the natural light and blind geometers of antiqu ity employed a sort of analysis which they went on to
our intell igence. Those who arc accustomed to walking in the dark apply to the solution of every problem, though they begrudged revealing
weaken their eye-sight, the resu lt being that they can no longer bear to be ir to posterity. At the present time a sort of atithmeric ca ll ed 'algebra' is
in broad daylight. Experience confirms this, for we very often find rhat , flourishing, and rhis is achieving for nu mbers what th e ancien ts did for
people who have never devoted their time to learned studies make figures. These two disciplines are simp ly the spontaneous fru its which
sounder and clearer judgements on matters which arise than rhose who have sprung from the innate pri nciples of chis method. l am nor surprised
have spent all their time in the Schools. By 'a method' l mean reliable that, where the simplest objects of these disciplines are concerned, there
}71. rules which arc easy to apply, and such that if one follows them exactly, has been a richer harvest of such fruits than in other disciplines in which
one will never take what is false ro be true or fruitlessly expend one's greater obstacles tend to stifle progress. But no doubt these too could
mental efforcs, but will gradually and constantly increase one's achieve a perfe,-r maturil)' if only rhey were cultivated with extreme care.
knowledge' rill one arrives at a true nndcrstanding of everything within Thar is in fact what I have principally aimed at achieving in this
one's capacity. 1reatise. I would not \alue these Rules so highly if they were good only
There are two points he re which we should keep in mi nd: we should for solving those pointless problems with which arithmeticians and
never assume to be true anything which is folse; and our goal should be ro geometers are incl ined to while away their time, for in that case all I
atta in knowledge of all things. For, if we do not know something we arc w ul d credit myself with achieving would be to dabble in trifles with
capable of knowing, this is simpl y i>ecause we hal'e never discovered a gl'ca tcr subtlety than they. I shall have mu ch to say below :ibour figures 374
way that might lead us ro such knowledge, o r beca use we have fall en into and numbers, for no other disciplines ca n yield illustrati ons as evident
the opposite error. 2 But if our merhod properly expla ins how we should nnd certain as these. Bur if one attends closely to my meaning, one will
use our mental inruition to avoid falli ng into the opposite error and how rea dily see tha t ordinary mathematics is far from my mind he re, chat ii is
we should go about finding the deductive inferences that will help us quite another discipline I am expounding, and that d1esc illustrations are
anain this all-embracing knowledge, rhcn l do not see char an)thing more more its outer garments th:m its inner parts. This discipline shou ld
is needed to make it complete; for as l have already said, we can have no rnmain 1he primary rudiments of human reason and extend to the
knowledge without memal intuition or deduetion. The method cannot ch\covery of truths in any field whatever. Frankly speaking, l am
go so far as to teach us how to perform the actual operations of intuition <01winced that ir is a more powerful instrument of knowledge than any
and deduction, since these are the simplest of all and quite basic. If our orher with which human beings arc endowed, as it is the source of all the
intellect were not already able ro perform them, it would not compre- rcM. I have spoken of its 'outer garmenr', not because I wish to rn11cr.1l
hend any of the rules of the method, however easy they might be. As for thi~ .cience and shroud it from the gaze of the pub lic; l wi\h r.llhtr to
other menta l operations which dialectic! claims to direct with the help of dothc and adorn it so as to make it easier ro present to rhc hum.111 mind.
those already mentioned, they are of no use here, or rather shou ld be When l fi rst applied my mind to the mathemati cal di,cip li11n, I at once
373 reckoned a positive hindr()J1cc, fo r nothi ng can be added to the clear light rc.1d niost o f the cusroma ry lore whi ch morhcmatical w11n1, '"'"'on to
of reason which does no r in some way dim it. ' " I paid special aucnti on to arithmetic and ACOnun y, 101 tl1t1c were

1 Lat. scieutia; see foomo1c on p. to ..lbovc.


'""t to be the simple\! and, as it were, w lead into tlw H''t. llut in neither 375
:t J.e. rejecring what is true: through undu~ sctp:idsm. " 'h1cct did l come aero" writers who fu lly ' ""hn l nw. I rend much
3 Sec foomote on p. 11 above. ,1hout number' wh1d1 I found to he tnit O ll ll' I h.111 HOllt' over the
Rules fo r the Directio11 of the Mind R11/e Four 19

calcularions for myself. The wricers displayed many geomerrical rruths that earliest antiquity, lived many centuries before our time. But I have
before my very eyes, as it were, and derived them by means of logical come to think that these wri1ers chemselves, with a kind of pernicious
argumencs. Bue they did not seem to make ic sufficient ly dear to my mind cunning, later suppressed this mathematics as, notoriously, man y
why these things should be so and how rhey were discovered. So l was inventors are known to have done where their own discoveries were
nor surprised to find that even many clever and learned men, after concerned. T hey may have feared that their method, just because it was
dipping into these ores, either quickly lay them aside as childish :md so easy and simple, would be depreciated if it were divulged; so to gain o ur 3 77
pointless or else take them to be so very d ifficult and complicated that admiration, 1hey may have shown us, as the fruits of their method, some
they are put off at the outset from learning them. For there is really barren truths proved by clever arguments, instead of teaching us the
nothing more futile than so busying ourselves with bare numbers and me1hod itself, which might have dispelled our admiration. In rhe present
imaginary figures 1hat we seem 10 rest concenr in the knowledge of such age some very gifted men have tried to revive rhis method, for che method
1rifles. And there is no1hing more futile 1han devoting our energies 10 seems 10 me 10 be none other than the an which goes by the outlandish
those superficial proofs which are discovered more through chance than name of 'algebra ' - or at least it would be if algebra were divested of the
method and which have more to do wi1h our eyes and imaginaiion than multiplicity of numbers and incomprehensible figures which overwhelm
o ur intellect; for the outcome of chis is that, in a way, we get out of the ic and instead possessed that abundance of clarity and simplicity which l
habit of using our reason. At the same time there is nothing more believe th e lrue mathematics ought m have. It was these though rs which
complicated than using such a method of proof to resolve new problems made me mrn from the particul ar studi es of arithmetic and geometry to a
which are beset with numerical disorder. Later on I wondered why the general investigation of mathematics. I began my investiga1ion by
founders of philosophy would admit no one 10 the pursuic of wisdom inquiri ng what exactly is generally meant by the term 'mathematics' 1 and
who was unversed in mathematics' - as if they 1hought 1hat this why it is that, in add ition co arithmetic and geometry, sciences such as
3 76 discipline was t he easiest and most ind ispensable of all for culriaring and astronomy, music, optics, mechanics, among others, are called branches
preparing the mind to grasp other more important sciences. l came to of mathematics. To answer this it is not enough just to look a1 the
suspect that chcy were familiar with a kind of ma1hematics qui1e different ety mology of the word, for, since the word 'mathematics' has the sa me
from the o ne w hich preva ils today; not thtll I though t they had a pcrfcc1 meaning as ' discipline',2 these subjects have as much right to be called
kllowledge of ir, for their wild exultations and thanksgivings for trivial 'ma1 hcmaties' as geometry has. Ye1 it is ev ident cha1 almost anyone with
discoveries clearl y show how rudimcnttiry thei r knowledge must have the sligh1est education can easi ly tell the difference in any context
been. I am not sh aken in this opinion by those machines1 of theirs which between what relates to mathematics and what to the other disciplines.
are so much praised by historians. Tiiesc mechanical devices may well When l considered the matter more closely, l came to sec that the
have been quite simple, even though the ignoran1 and wonder-loving exclusive concern of mathematics is with questions of order or measure 37 s
masses may have roi~t-d them to 1he leel of mancls. But l am convinced .ind that it is irrelevant whether the measure in question involves
that certain primary seeds of truth naturally implanted in human minds numbers, shapes, stars, sounds, or any ocher object whatever. This made
thrived vigorously in that unsophistica1cd and innocent age - st'Cds me realize that rhere must be a general science which explains all 1he
which have been stifled in us through our constantly reading and hearing point~ tha1 can be raised concerning order and measure irrespective of
all sorts of errors. So the sa me light of the mind which enabled them to tlw ~ubjcctmattcr, and that th is science should be termed lllf/t/J1sis
see (albeit without knowing why} that virtue is preferable to pleasure, the 11111111rsalis 1 - a venerable term with a well-established mca ninK - for Jl
good preferable to 1he useful, also enab led them ro gras p ttue ideas in wvers everyth ing that entitles these other sciences 10 be calltd l>r.111d1cs
phi losophy and ma1he111acics, although they were nor yec able fully to 11( 111.uhernatic~. How superior it is to these subo rdinat1' "11'l1H'' hoth in
master such sciences. Indeed, one can even sec some traces of this true 1111l1t)' and \1111)lhcity is clear from the fact that it cover\ .tll th1y dc.11with,
mathemacics, I think, in Pappus and Diophantusl who, chough not of .ind more hc>idc>; and any difficuhiCl> it involve> .1pplr tu thr-.c a' well,
\\IWrt"l\ 1hcir pamcular subject-matter mvohc' d1lhrnh1l'' which it
t A refertntt 10 rlaros Aa.dcm). o,tr rht mrr2nct ro wh.eh '';"1S 1nscr1btd 1he mono, "No l.1l~' "low everyone knows the name of 1h1\ \lthJr<I ,11111 w11hou1 even
one ignorant of geometry may enrtr.'
1 Ptrhaps an allusion IQ meth:a.nkal devices such as the wooden do..c: (which could fly) ' Ut"u.irtr-\ u-.to,; tl1<' ten~ tt1'1thtsu~ from the ( ,rk, ,u, llrJf11.,., l111"111ll) 'f(',u11111~
<Onstrnctcd by Archyras of Tarentum, a frielll! of Pl3!o. I .u. d1-J11pl11111, from d1u11t, 'to l ~.un'.
J Gretk ma1hemn1ici~111s working in Alexandria in the chird <..'t':ntur)' A.O. I,(". 0
UllllJC'l\!1I 111.11ht111.11it:.;',
20 Rules for the Direction of the Mind Rule Six 2r

studying it understands what its subj ect-matter is. So why is it that most new instruments for prod ucing motion. This applies also to those
people painstakingly pursue the ocher disciplines which depend on it, and philosophers who take no acco unt of experience and think that truth will
no one borhers to learn this o ne? No doubt 1 wou ld find that very spring from their brains like M inerva ftom the head of Jupiter.
surprising if I did nor know that everyone thinks the subject too easy, and All those just mentioned are plainly violating this Rule. But the order
if I had not loog since observed that the human intellect always bypasses that is required here is often so obscure and com pl icated that not
subjects which it th inks it can easily master and directly hurries on to new everyone can make out what it is; hence it is virtuall y impossible to guard
and grander things . against going astray unless one carefully observes the message of the
Aware how slender my powers are, 1 have resolved in my search for following Rule.
379 knowledge of things to adhere unswervingly 10 a definite order, always
starring with the simplest and easiest rhings and never going beyond them Rule Six
till there seems to be nothing further which is worth ach ieving where they
are concerned. Up to now, therefore, I have devoted all my energies to In order to distinguish the simplest things from those that are compli-
this universal mathematics, so that I th ink I shall be able in due course to cated and to set them out in a11 orderly manner, we should attend to what
tackle the somewhat more advanced sciences, without my effo rts being is most simple in each series of things in wh ich we have directly deduced
premature. But before I embark on this rask I shall try to bring together some truths from others, and should observe l1ow all the rest are more, or
and arrange in an orderly manner whatever I thought noteworthy in my less, or equally removed from the simplest.
previous studies, so that when old age dims my memory I can readily Although the message of this Rule may nor see m very novel, it conrains
recall it hereafter, if I need to, by consulting this book, and so that, nevertheless the main secret of my method; and there is no more useful
hav ing disburdened my memory, I can hencefocth devote my mind more Rule in this whole treatise. For it instructs us that all rhings can be
freely to what remains. arranged serially in vario us groups, not in so far as they can be referred co
some ontological genus (such as the categories into which philosophers
Rule Five divide t hings1), bur in so far as some things can be known on the basis of
The whole method consists entirely in the ordering and arranging of the or hers . Thus when a difficulty arises, we can see at once whether it will be
objects on which we must concentrate our mind's eye if we are to worth looking at any orhers first, and if so which ones and in what order.
discover some truth. We shall be following this method exactly if we first In order co be able ro do rhis correctly, we should note first that
red1tce complicated and obscure propositions step by step to simpler everything, with regard to its possible usefu lness to our project, may be
ones, and then, starting with the intuition of the simplest ones of all, try termed either 'absolute' or 'relative' - our prnject being, not to inspect
to ascend through the same steps to a knowledge of all the rest. the isolated nawres of things, but to compare them with each other so
th;lt some may he known on the basis of others.
This one Rule covers the most essentia l points in the whole of human I call 'absol ute' whatever has wi th in it the pure and simple nature in
endeavour. Anyone who secs out in quest of knowledge of tliings musr question; that is, whatever is viewed as being independent, a cause,
380 follow this Rule as closely as he would the thread of Theseus if he were to simple, un iversal, single, equal, si milar, straight, and other q ualities of
enter the Lab)rinth. But many people eirher do not reflect upon what the that son. I ca ll this the simplest and the easiest thing when we can make
Rule prescribes, or ignore it alt0gcther, or presume that they have no use of it in solving problems.
need of it. T hey frequen tly examine difficult problems in a very disorderl y T he 'relative', on rhe other hand, is what shares the same na 111rc, or <H
manner, behaving in my view as if they were trying to get from the least something of the same nature, in virtue of wh ich we .111 rda tc it to
bottom to the top of a building at one bound, spurning or failing to th e :1bsol urc a nd deduce it from the absolute in :1 dcri ni ll' 'l't'rts of stej>S.
notice the stairs designed for th at purpose. Astrologers all do likewise: T he concept of the 'relative' involves ocher tcrn1' Jw,idt,, whi d1 [ call
they do nor know the nature of the heavens and do not even make an) 'rdatio11s': these incl ude whatever is said 10 he <kp1nd1111, an effect,
accurate observations of celes tial motions, ye t they expect t0 be able to .:onipo,itc, p:1rtic11la1, many, unequal, diss imila r, ohli11 111', 'le. 1he further
delineate the effects of these motions. So too do most of rhose who srud)
mechanics apart from physics and, \\lkbouc any proper plan, construct
22. Rules (or the Direction of the Mind Rule Six 23

removed from the absolute such relative attributes are, the more mutu- moreover, since our task is not so much to retain them in o ur memory as
ally dependenr rel ations of this sort they contain. This Rule points out to d istinguish them with, as it were, the sharp edge of our mind, we must
that all these relations should be distinguished, and the interconnections seek a means of developing our intelligence in such a way that we can
between them, and their natural order, should be noted, so that given the discern these connections inunediatel y whenever the need arises. ln my
last term we should be able to reach rhe one that is absolute in the highest experience there is no better way of doing this than by accustoming
degree, by passing through al l the intermediate ones. ourselves ro reflecting with so me discernment on the minute details of the
The secret of this technique consists entirely in o ur arrenrively noting in things we have already perceived.
all rhings that wh ich is absolute in the highest degree. For some things are The third and last point is that we should not begin our studies by
more absolute than o thers from one point of view, yet more relative from investigaring difficult matters. Before tackling any specificproblems we
a different point of view. For example, the uni,ersal .is more absolute ought first to make a random selection of truths which happen to be at
than the particular, in virtue of its having a simpler nature, bur it can also hand, and oughr then to see whe ther we can deduce some orher truths
be said to be more relative than the part icular in that it depends upon from them step by step, and from these still others, and so on in logical
particulars for its existence, etc. Again, certain things sometimes are sequence. This done, we shou ld rcOect attenti vely on the truths we have
rea lly more absolute than others, yet not the most absolute of all . Thus a discovered and carefully consider why it was we were able to discover
species is something abso lute with respect ro particulars, but with respect some of these truth s sooner and more easily than others, and what these
to the genus it is relative; and where measurable items are concerned, truths are. T his will enable us to judge, when tackling a specific problem,
extension is something absolute, but among the varieties of extension whar poinrs we may usefully concentrate on discovering first. For
383 length is something absolute, etc. Furthermore, in order to make it clear example, say the thought occurs to me that the number 6 is twice 3: I may
that what we arc contemplating here is the series of things co be l'lien ask what twice 6 is, viz. 12 ; I may, if I like, go on to ask wha1 twice
discovered, and no t the nature of each of them, we ha ve deliberately L2 is, viz. 24 , and what twi ce 24 is, viz. 48 , etc. It would then be easy for
listed 'cause' and 'equal' among the absolutes, although thei r narure me to deduce that there is the same rario between 3 and 6 as between 6
really is relative. Philosophers, of course, recognize that cause and effect and i:i., and again the same ratio between r:i. and 24, etc., and hence that
are correlatives; but in the present case, if we wa nt to know what the the numbers 3, 6, i 2, 24, 48, etc. are cominued proportionals. All of this
effect is, we must know the cause first, and not vice versa . Again, eq uals is so clear as ro seem almost childish; nevertheless when I think carefully
are correlative with one anodier, but we can know what things are about it, I can see what sore of complications are involved in all the 38 5
unequal only by comparison with equals, and not vice versa, ere. questions o ne cao ask about the proportions or rel at ions between things,
Secondly, we should note that the re are very few pure and simple and in what order the questions should be investigated. Th is one point
namres which we can intuit straight off and per se (independently of any encompasses the essential core of the entire science of pure mathematics.
others) either in our sensory ex perience or by means of a light in nate For I notice first that it was no more difficult to discover what twice 6
within us. We should, as I said , attend carefully to the simp le natures is than twice 3, and that whenever we find a ratio between any r:wo
whicb can be intuited in this way, for these arc the ones which in each magnitudes we can always find, just as easily, innumerable others which
series we term simple in the highest degree. As for all the other natures, have the same ratio between them. T he nature of the problem is 110
we can apprehend them on ly by deducing them from those which are different when we are trying to find three, four, or more magnitud(, of
simple in the highest degree, ei ther immediately and directly, or by means this sort, since each one has to be found separately and wirhm11 rq.;.11,I to
of two o r three or more separate infe rences. In the latter case we should the ochers. I next observe tha t given the mag.nirudcs 1 and f>, I c.1~tly
also note the number of these inferences so that we may know whether found 1 a th ird magni tude which is in continued propomon, 111: . 11, yet,
the separation between the conclusion and the primary and supremely when the extreme terms 3 and 12 were given, I could nm find just as easi ly
simple proposition is by way of a greater or fewer number of seeps. And the mean proportional, 6. If we look into the rca~o11 frn 1h", it i, o l>Vious
the chain of inferences - which gives rise to those series of objects of that we have here a qu ite <lifferent rype of proh l1m lrn111 tl l<' preceding
investigation to which every problem must be reduced - is such one. For, if we arc to find t he mean proportion.11, \W """l <mend at the
throughout th at the problem can be investigated by a reliable method. 1 Hc:id m!~ il111(mrim, A {followinjl, Cr.1pulli) r:uhrl' ch.ln 1m11u11 { )11111 lu 1111ll') , 11 and
384 Bur since it is not easy to review al\ the connections together, and A l.
Rules for the Direction of rhe Mind Rule .Seven

same time to the two extreme terms and rhc ratio between them, in order Rule Seven
to obtain a new ratio by dividing rhis one. 1 This is a very different task
In order to make our k11owledge 1 comp/ere, every single thing relating to
from that of finding a third magnitude, given two magnitudes in our 1111dertaki11g m11st be surveyed i11 a co11tifl1t011s and wholly rmiitter-
continued proporcion. 2 I can go even further and ask whether, give n rhc rttpted sweep of thought, and be i11c/11ded in a sufficie11t and 111ell-orclered
numbers 3 and 24, it would be just as easy ro find one of rhc two mea n em1111eratio11.
386 proportionals, viz. 6 and 12. He re we have another sort of problem
agai n, an even more complicated one than either of the preceding ones. It is necessa ry co observe the poinrs proposed in rhis Ruic if we are to
We have to auend not just to one thing or ro two but ro three different admir as cer1ain those truths which, we said above, arc not deduced
things ar the same lime, if we are ro find a fourth. 1 We can go even further immediately from first and self-evident principles. For this deduction
and see whether, given JUSt 3 and 48, ir would be still more difficult 10 sometimes r~-quires such a long chain of inferences that when we arrive at
find one of the thr<.-c mean proportionals, viz. 6, 12 and 24. Ar first sight such a truth it is not easy to recall the cn1ire route which led us to ir. That
it does indeed seem robe more difficu lt. Bur then the rboughc immediate- is why we ~ay that a continuous movement of thought is needed to make
ly strikes us rhar th is problem can be split up and made easier: first we good any weakness of memory. If, for example, by way of separate
look for the single mean proportional between 3 and 48, viz. u; then we operations, I have come to know first what the relation between the
look for a further mean proportional between 3 and u, viz. 6; then magnitudes A and Bis, and then between Band C, and bcrween C and D,
another between n aud 48, viz. 24. In that way we red uce the problem and finally between D and E, 1hat docs not entail my seeing what the
to one of the second kind described above. relation is between A a nd E; and I cannot grasp what the rel ation is just 388
Moreover, from these examples l realize how in our pursuit of from rhose I alread) know, 1111less I recall all of them. So I shall ruo
kno\Yledge of a given thing we can follow different parhs, one of which 1s through them several times in a continuous movement of the imagina-
much more difficult :ind obscure than the other. If, for example, we :ire rion, simultaneously intuiting one relation and passing on to the next,
asked to find the four proportionals, 3, 6, i:z., 24, given any two until I have learnt to pass from the fir~t to the last so swiftly that memory
consecutive members of the series, such as 3 and 6, or 6 and iz., or 12 is left with practically no role to play, and I seem to intuit the whole thing
and 24, ir will be a very easy task to find rh c other>. In this case we shall at once. In this way our memory is relieved, the sl uggishness of our.
SU)' that the propositi on we are seeking is in vestigated in a direct way. But intelligence redressed, and its c:ipachy in some way enlarged .
if two alternate numbers arc given, such as 3 and I 2., or 6 and 24, and we In additi on, this move111ent mu st nowhere be interru pted. Freq uently
are to work out the othe rs from these, in diat case we shall say that the those who attempt to deduce something too swiftly and from remote
problem is investigated indirccdy by rhc first method. Likewise, if we arc initial premisses do not go over the entire d1ain of intermediate conclu-
ro find the intermediate numbers, 6 and 12, given the two exrremes, 3 sions very e<1refully, but pass over many of the steps without due
387 and 24, then the problem will be investigated indirectly b)' che second consideration. But, whenever even the smallest link is overlooked the
method. I could thus go on even further and draw many other conclu- chain is immediately broken, and the certainty of the conclusion cnurely
sions fro m th is one example. But these points will suffice ro enable the collapses.
reader to see wh at I mean when I say that some proposition is deduced We mai ntain furthermore that enumeration is required for the wmpk
'di rectly' or ' indirectly', and will suffice to make him bea r in mind that on tio n nf our knowledge.' The other Rules do indeed help u~ resolve 1110,t
the basis of our knowledge of the mcm simple anti primary things we can quesrions, but it is only with the aid of enumeration that we :m nblt to
make many discoveries, even in ocher disciplines, through careful reflec- make a true and certain judgement about whatever we appl y our 111111do
tion and discriminating inquiry. to. By means of enumeration nothing wil l wholly esca pL' ti\ 111111 W(' ,ball
be see11 to have some knowledge on every question.
Jn this context cnumeration,2 or induction, co11'"" 111 1 thorough
invcs11g;mon of .111 the points rclaung to thr p111hkn1 .tl h.md, an
invc,11gauon \\hoch is so careful and ac.~ir.ur th.11 "" 111.t) t11dudc with
1 The probl<"rn: to firt<I .tn x such thnt 3/ x x/ 1 1.
The problem: 10 find an x such 1hat J/ 6 6/ x. 1 l .u. u1r11/J11i ,,.... fcwrnorc on p. 10 .1ho-.e.
J The problem: to find aJJ x and y h 1h2t J/ x x/ y y/ z4 . :I. Rr.ul11114 ,,,, A, f I (follow 1111~ c:r.111ull1), r.uhrr clun /1,u; (' 111111 1'11\U llfl l ,ltlOU '), A~I .
Rules for the Direction of the Mind Rule Seuen 2.7

manifest certainty that we have not inadvertentl y overlooked anything. cannot be assigned to any of these. To give one last example, say I wish ro
389 So even though the object of our inquiry eludes us, pro\ided we have show by cnumcracion that the area of a ci rcle is greater than the area of
made an enumeration we shall be wiser at least to the extent that we shall any other geometrical figure whose perimeter is rhe same length as the
perceive wit h cerrainty char ic could nor possibly be discovered by any circle's. I need nor review every geometrical figure. If I can demonstrate
merhod known ro us. If we have managed to examine all the humanly that th is fact holds for some particular figures, I shall be entitled to
accessible paths 1owMds the object of our inquir)' (which we often do), conclude by induction 1 that the same holds true in all the ocher cases as
we shall be emirled confidently to assert that knowledge of it lies wholly well.
beyond the reach of the human mind. I said also that rhc enumeration must be well-ordered, partly because
\Y/e should note, moreover, that by 'sufficient enumeration' or 'induc there is no more effective remedy for the defects l have just listed than a
cion' we just mean the kind of enumeration which renders the truth of well-ordered scruciny of all the relevant items, and partly because, if
our conclusions more certain than any other kind of proof (simple every single rhing relevant to the question in hand were to be separately ;91
intuition exccpced) allows. Bur when our knowledge of something is not scrutinized, one lifetime would generally be insufficient for the task, for
reducible to simple intuition and we have cast off our syllogistic feuers, either there would be coo many such rhmgs or the same things would
we are left with this one path, wh ich we should srick ro with complete keep cropping up. But if we arrange all of the relevant items in the best
confidence. For if we have deduced one fact from another immediately, order, so that for the most part they fall under definite classes, ir will be
rhen provided the inference 1s evident, it already comes under the heading sufficiem if we look closely :u one class, or at a member of each particular
of true intuition. If on the other hand we infer a proposition from many class, or at some classes rather chan others. If we do rhat, we shall at any
discon nected propositions, our intellectua l ca pacity is often insufficient rare never pointlessly go over the same ground twice, and thanks ro our
to enable us to encompass all of them in a si ngle intuition; in which case well-devised o rder, we shall often man age co review quickly an cl effort
we mmr he content with the level of certainty which the above operation lessly a large number of item~ which ar firsc sight seemed formidab ly
allows. In the same way, our e)es ca nno t distinguish at one glance all the large.
li nks in a very Jo ng cl1ain; bur, if we have seen the connections between ln such cases the order in wh ich things arc enu merated can usually be
each link and its neighbour, this crwbles us to say that we have seen how varied ; it is a matte I' for individual choice. For that reason, if our cho ice is
the last li nk is con nected wic h th e firs1. to be intellige ntly thought out we should bear in mind what was sa id in
I sa id thar this opcrmion should be 'sufficient', because it can often be Ruic Five. In rb e more frivo lous of man's skills there are many ch ings
deficient and hence liab le ro error. For sometimes, even though we survey whose method of invention consists entirely in arranging th ings in chis
390 many points in our cnumcrari <>n which are quire evident, yet if we make orderly way. Th us if you want to construct a perfect anagram by
even the slighresr omission, the chain is broken and the certainty of the cransposing the letters of a name, th ere is no need ro pass from the very
conclusion is entirely lost. Again, sometimes we do cover everything in easy to the mo re difficuh , nor to distinguish what is absolute from what is
our enumeration, ycr foil to distinguish one thing from another, so that relative, for these operations have no place here. All you need do is co
our knowledge of rhem all is simply confused. decide on an order for examining permutations of letters so time you
The enumeration should sometimes be complete, and sometimes never go Ol'Cr the same pcrmucations twice. The number of th<11
distinct, though there are times when it need be neither. Thar is why l permutations should, for example, be arranged into definite cl.1"11, 10
said only rhar the enumeration must be sufficient. For if l wish to rhat it becomes 1111111ediately obvious which ones prcsem llw i:r.11r1
determine by enumeration how many kinds of corporeal entity there are pro~pect ol finding whar you are looking for. If this is done, 1lw 1.11k will
or how many are in some way perceivable by the senses, I shall not ~ldom be tedious; it will be mere child's play.
assert rhac there arc just so many and no more, unless I have previously Now, chc:.e last three Rules should nor be 1cp.ir.11 ..t1. \\'1 1l10uld ;9i.
made sure I have included them all in my enumeration and have 11cncrall)' think of them together, since they all cnntn huh <"<Jn.1lh co chc
distinguished one from another. Bur if I wish to show in rhe same way perfection of rlw method. It was immaterial wh1d\ ul 1hr111 \1< '"'p<nmd
that the rat ional soul i~ not corporeal, there is no need for the td lir\I. \'<le .ire 111nn11 only a hrief account of 1hr111 11111 1111 our 1.11k in
enumeration ro be complete; ic will be sufficient if I group all bodies I 1ndu(,mM1 htrt' \fUlh (O hJYt" "' 't.ind..ard '\CIN~ ol mlrUlhf h1+IH JUllhUl.U UM.JO'""<\
rogether into ~cvcrnl classes so as to dci_nonstrate that rhc rational soul of \OmC"lhlR~ W .111 111,Ulh.t"' ',
2.8 Rules for t/Je Direction of the Mind Rule Eight '-9

the remainder of the treatise will be confined almost entirely to explicat- re fracted that they intersect at a si ngle point - he will easily sec, by
ing in derail what we have so far covered in general terms. following Rules Five and Six, that the determination of this line depends
on the rmio of the angles of refraction to rhe angles of incidence. But he
Rule Eight will nor be able to find out what this rario is, since it has to do with
physics rather than with mathemarics. So he will be compelled to stop
If in the series of things to be exa111i11ed 1ue come across somethi11g which
short righ t ar the outset. If he proposes to learn it from the philosophers
our i111ellect is 1111able to i11t11it mfficie11tly well, we 111115t stop at that
or derive it from experience, he will achieve nothing, for that would be 10
poi111, and refrai11 from the super{l11ous task of exami11i11g the remai11i11g
violate Rule Three. Besides, the problem before him is composite and
items.
relative; and it is possible to have ex periential knowledge which is certain
The rhrec preceding Rules prescribe and explain the order to be followed; only of things which are entirely simple and absolute, as I shall show in
the prcscni Ruic shows when order is absolute!)' necessary, and when it is the appropriate place. Again, it is no use his assuming some particular
merely useful. h is necessary that we examine whatever constitutes an ratio berwcen the angles in question, one he conjecrures to be most likely
integral step in the scriQ. through which we must pass when we proceed the real one; for in that case what he was seeking to determine would no
from relative terms to something absolute or vice versa, before consider longer be the anaclasric - it would merely be the line which was the
ing all that follows an the series. Of course if many things belong to a logical consequence of his supposition.
given step, as is often the case, it i> always useful to survey all of them in Now take someone whose studies are not confined to mathematics and
due order. But we are not forced to follow the order stricdy and rigidly ; who, following Rule One, eagerly seeks the truth on any question that
generally we may proceed further, even although we do not have clear arises: if he is faced with the same problem, he will discover when he
393 knowledge of al l t he terms of the series, but only of a few or just one of goes into it that the ratio between the angles of incidence and the angles
them. of refraction depends upon the changes in rbese angles brought about by
This Rule is a necessary consequence of the reasons I gave in support of di fferences in the media. He wil l sec that these changes depend on rhe
Ru le Two. But it sho uld not be thought that this Rule contributes manner in which a ray passes through the entire transparent body,' and
nothing new to the advancement of lea rning, even though it seems merely that knowledge of this process presupposes also a knowledge of chc
to decer us fro m discussing cercain things and to bring no truth to light. nature of the action of light. Lastly, he will see that to undcrsrnnd the 39 s
Indeed, all it teaches beg inners is that they should not waste their efforts, latter process he must know what a natural power in general is- this last
and it docs so in practica lly the same manne r as Rule T wo. But it shows being the most ;1bsolute term in this whole series. Once he has clea rly
those who have perfecLl y mastered the preced ing seven Ru les how they ascertained th is through menta l inmicion, he will, in accordance with
can achieve for themselves, in any science whatever, results so satisfac Ru le Five, rerrace his course through the same steps. If, at the second
tory that there is nothing further they will desire to achieve. If an yone step, he is unable to discern at once what the nature of light's accion is, in
observes the above Rules exactly when trying to solve some problem or accordance with Rule Seven he will make an enumera tion of all the other
other, bur is im.trucred by the present Rule to stop at a certain point, he narural powers, in the hope that a knowledge of some orher natura l
will know for su re chat no amount of applicatio n will enable him to find power wil l help him understand this one, if only by way of analogy - hut
the knowledge' he is seeking; and that not because of any defect of his more of this lacer.i Having done that, he will investigate th e way in wh1>h
intelligence, but because of the obstacl e which the nature of the problem the ray passes through the whole transparent body. Thus hl" wrll lullcm
itself or rhe human condition presents. H is recognition of this point is up the remaining poi nts in d ue order, until he arrivc1 at the .111.1d.1'l1<
just as much knowlcdge 1 as that which reveals the nature of the thing it..clf. Even though the anaclasric has been the objc.:t of 11111< h fru11Jc,.,
itself; and it would, I think, be q uite irrational if he were to stretch bis research in the pa1t, I can see nothing to prevent .1n)onr "1111 11\C\ o ur
curiosity any forther. merhod exactly from gaining a clear knowlcdgc of II
Let us illustr:ne these points wi th one or two examples. If, say, But let U'> take the fint"'t example of all. I('""''"""'
w t' humdf the
someone whose studies arc confined to mathematics tries to find the line
394 called the 'anaclasuc' in optics? - the line from which parallel rays aie so 1 I .11 wtum dt.rpl>.m1,m. 1hf. \'C'f)' ffmd 'u1htlr nl.mu' "'h1, \ lln, 111n hnl cu be 1ht
m~Jmru u( lh( tr.U,\llll\\IOll of li1tlic. <J. Opurs. r , , I h(fo~
t Lat. u1t111ia; S footnote on p. ' ' 2bovt. L I h1\ mp1" '' no1 tlht'U\\cd m rhr <''<t.t1ll poroon' nt du /(,,,,., \u hm\<''f'C't Of>ti<s.
1 IXscrtt solv.d rhis problem in Di!COUn< 8 of his Optics. J),,"ounC'' 1 ,1ml t IP!' 1J. h'4 hC'lttw)
30 Rules for the Direction of the Mind Rule Eight

problem of investigating every truth for the knowledge of which hu man Our method in fact resembles the procedures in the mechanica l crafts,
reason is adequate - and this, I think, is something everyone who which have no need o f methods other rhan their own, and whicl1 supp ly
earnesrl) strives after good sense shou ld do once in his life - he will their own instrucrions for making their own rools. If, for exa mple,
indeed discover by means of the Rules we have proposed that nothing someone wa nced co practise one of t hese crafts - to become a blacksmith,
can be known prior to the intellect, since knowledge of everything else say - bur did noc possess any of the too ls, he would be forced at first to
depends o n the intellect, and not vice versa. Once he bas surveyed use a hard stone (or a rough lump of iron) as an anv il, to make a rock do
everything that follows immediately upon knowledge of che pure intel- as a hammer, to make a pair of tongs out of wood, and co puc rogethc r
lect, among what re mains he will enumerate whatever instruments of other such too ls as the need arose. Thus prepared, he would not
knowledge we possess in addition to the intel lect; and there are on ly two immediately attempt to forge swords, helmets, or other iro n implements
of t hese, namely imagination and sense-perception. He will therefore for others ro use; rather he would first of all make hammers, an anvil,
devore all his energ ies to d istingu ishing and exa mining these three modes tongs and other tools for his own use. What chis example shows is that,
of knowing. He will see th at there can be no truth or falsity in the strict since in th ese preliminary in quiries we have managed to discover only
sense except in the intellect alone, although truth and falsity often some rough precepts which appear to be innate in our minds rather than
originate from the other two modes of knowing; and he will pay care fu l che product of any skill, we shou ld not immediately cry to use these
heed to everything that might deceive him, in order to guard against it. precepts to settle philosophical disputes or to solve mathemat ical prob-
He will make a precise enu meration of all rhe paths to truth which a re lems. Rather, we should use these precepts in the first instance co seek ouc
open to men, so that he may follow one which is reliable. There are nor with extreme care everything else whi.ch is more essential in the
so many of these that he cannot easily discover rhem all by means of a investigation of truth, especially since there is no reason why sucb things
sufficient enumeration; 1 this will seem surprising and incredible to the should be thought more difficult to discover than any of the solutions co
inexperienced. And as soon as he has distinguished, with respect to each rhe problems commonly set in geometry, in physics, or in other disci-
individual object, between chose items of knowledge which merely fil l plines.
and adorn the memory and those which really entitle one to be called But the most useful inquiry we C<ln make at this stage is ro ask: What is
mo re learned - an easy tas k co accomplish . . .2 he will cake the view that human knowledge and what is its scope? We are at present treat ing this
any lack of further k nowledge on his part is noc at all due to any lack of as one single question, which in o ur view is the first question of all that 398
intelligence o r method, and that whatever anyone else can know, he coo sh ould be examined by means of the Rules described a bove. This is a task
is capab le of knowing, if o nl y he properly applies his mind to it. He may which everyone with the slightest love of truth ought ro undertake at
often be faced with many questions which this Rule prohibits him from least once in his life, since the true instruments of knowledge and the
caking up; yet, because he sees clearly that these questions are wholly entire method are involved in the investigation of the problem. There is, l
beyond the reach of the human mind, he will not regard himself as being think, nothing more foolish than presuming, as many do, to argue about
more ignorant on that account. On the contrary, his very knowing that the secrets o f nature, the influence of the heavens on these lower regions,
the matter in question is beyond the bounds of human knowledge will, if the prediction of future events, and so o n, without ever inquiring whether
he is reasonable, abundantly satisfy his curiosity. hu man rcMoo is adequate for discovering matters such as these. It sho uld
Now, to prevent our being in a state of permanent uncertainty about not be regarded as an arduous or even difficult cask to define the limit' of
the powers of the mind, and to prevent our mental labours being the mental powers we arc conscious of possessing, since we oftc11h.1\'c110
misguided and haphazard, we o ught o nce in our life carefully to inquire hesitation in making judgements about things which arc m11,uk '" 1111d
397 as to what sore of knowledge human reason is capable of arraining, q uite foreign to us. Nor is it an immeasurable rask ro st1k to l'nrnmpa&>
before we set abour acquiring knowledge of things in particular. In order in thought everything in the universe, with a view to l1;1rn111!1 i11 what
ro do this the better, we should, where the objecis of inquiry arc equally way particular things may be susceptible of inVt'>tif.1.l lion hy the h umon
simple, always begin our investigation with those which are more useful. mind. For nothi ng can be so many-sided or dilfuM' l'h.11 11 rn nnot be
encompassed within definite limits or arra n1wcl und111 .1 kw hl'.ldings by
1 The cranslation follows che punctuation o( A and H here. AT puncruace so as ro give 1he
sense . . . cnumccation. Wh:n will seem sm:p.dsiog is that :1s soon as means of the method of enumeration we Ii.iv httn 1lt" " " i"!I But in
2 A la<:una in 1hc texts A, H. order to sec how the above points apply w tht p111l1hm h.. lorc us, we
'
Rules for the Direction of the Mind Rule Nine 33
sha ll first .divide into two pares whatever is relevant co che question; for the human mind - in which case he will not regard himself as more
t he quesnon o ught co relate either to us, who have the capacity for ignorant on t hat account, for this discovery amounts to knowledge1 no
knowledge, or LO Lhc actu al things it is possible co know. We shall discuss less than any other.
these two parts separately.
Within oursel\'CS we are aware that, while it is the intellect alone that is Rule Nine
capable of knowledge. 1 it can be helped or hindered by three ocher We must conc.e11trate our 111i11d's eye totally upon the most insig11ifica11 1
facul ties, viz. imagination, sense~rception, and memory. We must and easiest of matters, and dwell on them lo11g enough to acquire the
therefore look at these faculties in turn, to see in whac respect each of habit of i11t11iting the truth distinctly a11d clearly.
chem could be a hindrance, so that we may be on our guard, and in whac
We have given an account of the two operations of our intellect, intuition
399 respect an asset, so that we may make full use of their resources. We
and deduction, on which we must, as we said, exclusi,cly rely in our
shall discuss rhis part of the question by way of a sufficient enumeration
acquisit.ion of knowledge. Ln this and the following Rule we shall proceed
as the following Rule will make clear. '
to explain how we can make our employment of intuition and deduction
We shou~d then ru rn to the things themselves; and we should deal with
more skilful and at the same time how to cultivate rwo special mental
these only m so far as they are within the reach of rhe inrellect. In that
faculties, viz. perspicacity in the distinct intuition of particular things and
respect ~ve divide the_m mto absolutely simple natures and complex or
discernment in the methodica l deduction of one thing from another.
composnc n;tturcs. Simple natures musr all be either spi ritual or cor
\'i/e c:in bes t learn how mental inmition is to be employed by
poreal, or belong to each of these categories. As for composite narures
comparing it with ordinary vision. If o ne tries to look ac many objects at
there arc some which the intellect experiences as composite before i;
one glance, one sees none of them distinctly. Likewise, if one is inclined 401
decides to determine anything about them: but there are others which are
put together by the intellect itself. All these points will be explained at 10 attend to many things at the same time in a single acr of thought, one
docs so with a confused mind. Yer craftsmen who engage in delicate
greater length m Ruic Twelve, where it wi ll be demonmated that there
operations, and arc used to fixing thei r eyes on a single point, acquire
~an be no falsity save in compos ite natures which arr put together by the
thro ugh prnctice the ability to make pe rfect distinctions between things,
111tellect. In view of this, we divide natures of the latter sort into two
however mi nu te and delicate. The same is true of those who never let
further classes, viz. those that arc deduced from natures which are rhe
th eir thinking be distracted by many different objects ac rhe same time,
most simple and self-evi dent (which we shall deal with throughout rhe
bu t :1lways devote their whole attention to the simplest and easiest of
next boo k}, and th ose chat presuppose others which experience shows us
10 be composite in renlity. We ohall reserve the whole of the third book
matters: they become perspicacious.
It is, however, :1 common failing of mortals ro rega rd what is more
for an account of the larier.2
difficult as more attractive. Most people consider that they know
Through o~1t chis neatise we shall tr)' to pursue every humanly accessi
nothing, even when they see a very clear and simple cause of something;
ble path which leads to knowledge of the truth. We shall do this very
yet at the same rime rhcy gcr carried away with certain sublime and
carefully, and show the paths to be very easy, so that anyone who has
far-fetched argument~ of the philosophers, even though these are for rhc
mastered the whole method, however mediocre his intelligence, may se~
most part based on foundations which no one has ever thoroughly
4 00 that rhere arc no paths closed to him that are open to others, and char his
inspected. It is surely madness to think that tbere is more cl.ml)' 111
lack of further knowledge is not due to any want of intelligence or
darkness than in light. But let us note, those who rcall)' do 1111"0'
method.' As. often as .he applies his mind to acqui re knowledge of
knowledge, can discern the truth witb equal facility whether 1h.1y have
somechmg, eu hcr he will be entirely successful, or at least be will realize
derived it from a simple subject or from an o bscure one. 1"11 01.-c they
that success depends upon wme observation which it is not
have hir upon it, they grasp each truth by means of .1 \lll)lk- .111d distmct
within his power to make - so he will not blame his intelligence even
act wh ich is ~imilnr in every case. The difference Ire' ,111111'1> m the route
though he is forced 10 come to a halt; or, finally, he will be able to
followed, which must ~urcly be longer if it lead> tu ,1 trlllh whrch is more
dcmonstrare that the thing he wants to know wholly exceeds the grasp of
remote from complc1cl> ab~olute first principle'
1 Sec f00tnotie on p. 10 abov~. ~
2 ... Prcl:1<:c, p. 7 al>ovt. 1 I .u. hN.'1111..1: \('t foocnmt <Ill p. 1c 1l1on
Rules for tbe Directio11 of the Mind R11/e Te11 35
Everyone ought therefore to acquire the habir of encompassing in his survey eve11 the most i11sig11i(ica11t products of human skill, especially
thought at one time facts which are very simple and very few in number- those which display or presuppose order.
~oz. so much so thar he never thinks he knows something unless he intuits it
just as distinctly as any of the things he knows mosc distinctly of all. The natural bent of my mind, I confess, is such that chegreacest pleasure I
Some people of course are born with a much greater aptitude for this sore have taken in my studies has always come nor from accepting the
of insight than others; but our minds can become much better equipped arguments of others bu t from discovering arguments by my own efforts.
for it through method and practice. There is, I thi nk, one point above all It was just this that attracted me to the study of the sciences while I was
ochers which I must stress here, which is chat everyone should be firmly still in my youch. Whenever the title of a book gave promise of a new
convinced that the sciences, however abstruse, arc to be deduced only discovery, before I read any further I would try and see whether perhaps I
from matters which are easy and highly accessible, and not from those could achieve a similar l'Csulc by means of a certain innare discernment.
which are grand and obscure. And I took great care nor to deprive myself of this innoccm pleasure
If, for example, I wish ro inquire whether a natu ral power can travel through a hasty reading of the book. So frequently was I successfu l in this
instantaneously to a disranc pince, passing through the whole interven ing that eventually l came to realize that I was no longer making my way to
spac~, I shall not immediately rum my aucnt1on to the magnetic force, or the truch of cbings as others do by way of aimless and blind inquiries,
the mOucncc of the stars, or C\en th e speed of light, to see whether wirh the aid of luck rather than sk ill; rather, after many crials I had hir
acuons such as chese might occur instantaneously; for I would 6nd it upon some reliable rules of great assistance in finding the truth, and l
more difficult to settle chat son of question than the one at issue. I shall, then used these co devise many more. In this way I carefully elaborated 4o 4
rather, reflect upon rhe local morions of bodies, since there can be my whole method, and became convinced that che method of study I had
norh111g in this whole area that is more readily perceivable by the senses. pursued from che outset was the most useful of aU.
And I shall realize that, while a stone cannot pass instantaneously from Still, since noc all minds have such a natural disposicion to puzzle
one place to another, since iris a bod y, a power similar to the one which chings our by their own exertions, the message of this Rule is that we must
moves the stone musr be transmitted instanrnneously if it is to pass, in its nor take up the more difficult and arduous issues immediately, but must
bare state, from one object to another. For instance, if I move one end of first tackle the simplest and least exalted arts, and especially those in
a stick, bowever long it may be, l can easil y conceive that chc power which order prevails - such as weaving and carpet-making, or the more
~luch moves that pare of the stick necessarily move> ever)' other part of it feminine arts of embroidery, in which threads are interwoven in an
111sta11ta11eously, because it is the ba re power wh ich is transmitted at rh at infinitely varied pattern. Number-games and any games involving arith
moment, and nor rbe power as it exists in some body, such as a stone metic, and the like, belong here. It is surprising how much all these
whiob carries it along. 1 activities exercise our minds, provided of course we discover them for
In the same way, if I want ro know how one and the same simple cause ourselves and nor from others. For, since noching in these activities
403 can gi,e rise simultaneously co opposite effects, I shall not have recourse remains hidden an d they are totally adapted to human cognitive c~paci
to rhe remedies of the physicians, which drive out some humours and ties, they present us in rhe moM distinct way with innumerable in>tanc<..,
~ec~ other~ in; nor shall I prattle on about the moon's warming things by of order, each one different from the other, yet all regula r. 1111111.111
its light and cool mg them by means of some occult quality. Rather, I shall discernment consists almosr entirely in che proper observance ol \U<h
o bserve a pair of scales, where a single" eight raises one scale and lowers order.
rhe other instantaneously, and simi lar examples. It was for this reason rhat we in~istcd that our inquiric' llHl\t l'""'cd
methodically. In these so mewhat trivial subjeccs the mtth11d u,11,11ly
Rule Ten consists sim.ply in constantly following an order, whtth1 1 11 " .1rn1,11ly
ln order to acqttire discernment we s/1011/d exercise our i11tellige11ce by prescm in the matter in question or is ingcniou,l y JC',1tl 1111<> ii. For
11111est1gatmg what others have already discovered, and methodically example, say we want to rend rn111cthing wri t1,11 111 .111 un l.11111h.11 cypher
which lacks any appnrcnt order: what we ~Ii .di d11 i' LC1 111w111 an order,
o as to test every conjccn11c we can makl' .1hu111 111thv1d11.1l lc11ers,
1 Cf. Optics, pp. 1 si;;s below. word, or sentence>, llld 111 nrr:1ni;c the d1.1r.1<tu' 111 ''" h .1 "'''Y 1hat by 405
Rules for the Direction of the Mind Rule Eleven 37

an enumeratio n we may discover what can be deduced from them. Above conclusion unless they arc already in possession of the substance of the
al l, we must guard :1ga insc wasting our ti me by making random and conclusion, i.e. unless they have previous knowledge of the very truth
unmethodical guesses about similariries. Even though problems such deduced in the syllogism. lt is obvious therefore that they themselves can
as chese can often be solved withou t a method and can sometimes lea rn no thing new from such forms of reasoning, and hence that ordina ry
perhaps be solved more q uickly through good luck than through method, dialectic is of no use whatever to those who wish to investigate the truth
nevertheless they might dim rhe lighc of the mind and make it become so of things. Its sole advantage is that it sometimes enables us to explain to
habituated co childish and fucil c pu rsuits rhac chereafter it would always others arguments which are already known. It should therefore be
stick to the surface of things and would be unable ro penetrate more transferred from philosophy to rhetoric.
deeply. But for all thac we must not fall into the error of those who
occupy their minds exclusively wich serious and lofty issues, only to find Rule Eleven 407
thac after much toil they gain, noc the profound science rhey desired, but
If, after intuitittg a 1111mber of simple propositions, we deduce something
mere confusion. We must t herefore practise these easier casks first, and
else from them, it is 11sef11/ to nm through them i11 a e-011tin11ous a1rd
above all methodically, so th:it by following accessible and familiar paths
completely uni11tem1pted train of thought, to reflect on their relations to
we may grow accustomed, just as if we were playing a game, co
one a11other, and to fo nn a disti11ct and, as far as possible, simultaneous
penetrating always to the deeper truth of things. In this way we shall
conceptio11 of several of them. For in this way our knowledge becomes
gradually find - much sooner rhan we might expecc- that it is just as easy
much more certai,,, and our m ental capacit) is enormously increased.
to deduce, o n the basis of evident principles, many propositions which
appear very difficult and complicated. This is a good time to explain more clearly what was said about mental
Some will perhaps be surprised that in rhis context, where we are intu ition in Rules nuee and Seven. In one passage we contrasted it with
searching for ways of ma king ourselves more skilful at deducing some deduction,' and in another only with enumeration, 2 which we defined as
truths on the basis o f others, we make no mention of any of the precepts an in ference draw n from many disconnected facts. But in the same
with which dialccticians1 suppose th ey govern human reason. They passage we said that a simple deduction of one fact from anuthe r is
prescribe certain forms of reasoning in which the conclusions follow with performed by means of intuition.
such irres istible necessity rhac i( our reason relies on them, even though it It was necessary to proceed in that way, because two things are
406 rakes, as it were, a rest from co nsidering a particular inference clearly and required fo r mental intu ition: first, the propos ition intuited must be cl ear
attentively, it can ncvcnhclcss draw :1 conclusion which is certain simply and distinct; second, the whole proposition musr be understood all at
in virtue of th e form . Hut, as we have noticed, truth often slips through once, and not bit by bit. But when we think of the process of deduction as
these fetters, wh ile those who employ them are left entrapped in them. we did in Rule Three, it docs not seem to rake place all ac once: inferring
Others arc nor so frequently entrapped and, as expe rience shows, the one thing from :mother involves a kind of movement of o ur mind. In that
cleverest sophi;ms hardly ever deceive anyone who makes use of his passage, then, we were justified in distinguishing intuit ion from deduc
untrammelled reason; rather, it is usually rhe sophists themselves wbo tion. But if we look on deduction as a completed process, as we did in 40H
are led astray. Rule Seven, t hen it no longer signi6es a movement but rather the
Our principal concern here is thus to guard against o ur reason's taking completion of a movement. That is why we are supposing th.11 th<
a holiday while we are investigating the truth about some issue; so we deduction is made through intuition when it is simple and tr.11"p.Hrnt ,
rejecc the forms of reasoning just described as being inimical to our but not when it is complex and involved. When the latter i' the""'" we
project. Instead we search carefully for everything which may help our call it 'cnumcrauon" or 'induction', since the intellect c..1111111t '1111111
mind to stay alert, as we shall show below. Bur to make it even clearer taneously grasp it as a whole, and its cenaint)' m .1 "nw tlpc11c.b on
t hat the aforementioned art of reasoning contribures nothing whatever to memory, which mu>t retain the judgements we h.1w 111.1ck on the
knowledge of the truth, we should realize that, on the basis of their ind1v1dual parts o f the enumeration if we are to dc11v .1 '"'Ille cond u
method, dialecticians are unable to formulate a syllogism with a true ~ion from them taken a~ :t whole.

I ~.lhO\'f, p. I~. l See .JlwJ\'C.. r I'


R11les for the Directio11 of tbe Mind Rule Twelve 39

All these distinctions had to be made in order co make clear the magnitude, for th is can be done only by means of an act of conceiving
meaning of this Rule. Rule Nine deah only with mental intuition; Rule which simultaneously involves two of the aces just mentioned. If only the
Ten only with cnumcrarion. The prcscm Rule explains cbc way in which first and the fourth magnitudes are given, it is even more difficult to intuit
these two opera1ions aid and complement each other; they do this so the rwo intermediate ones, for in this case three acrs of conceiving are
thoroughly rha1 they seem to coalesce into a single operation, through a simultaneously involved. So, as a logical consequence, it might seem even
movement of thought, as it were, wh ich involves carefully intuiting one more difficult 10 find the three imennediatc magnirudes given rhe first
thing and passing on at once to the others. and fifrh. Yet this is not the case, owing to a further reason, which is that,
There is, we should point out, a twofold advantage in this fact: it although four :ices of conceiving are joined together in the present
facilimes a more certain knowledge of rhe conclusion in quesrion, and it example, they can nevertheless be separated, since four is divisible by
makes the mind bcucr able ro discover other truths. As we have said, another number. So I om obtain the third magnirude alone on the basis
conclusions which embrace more than we can grasp in a single intuition of the first and the fifth, then the second on rhe basis of the first and
depend for their cenainty on memory, and since memory is weak and the third, etc. If one is used to reflecting on these and similar maners,
unstable, it must be refreshed and strengthened through this continuous whenever one invesugates a new problem one will immediately recognize
and repeated movement of thought. Say, for instance, in virrue of several the source of the difficulty and the simplest method for dealing with it.
operations, I have discovered the relation between the first and the And chat is the greatest aid to knowledge of the truth.
second magnitude of 3 series, then the relacion between the second and
409 the third and the third and fourth, and lastly the fourth and fifth: that Rule Twelve
does not necessarily enable me to sec what the relation is between the first
Fi11a/ly we must m ake use of all the aids which intellect, imagination,
and the fifth, and I cannot ded uce it from the relations I already know
senseperceptio11, a11d memory afford in order, firstly, to intuit simple
unless I remember all of them. That is why it is necessary that I run over
propositions disti11ctly; secondly, to combine1 correctly the matters under
them again and aga in in my mind unti l I can pass from the first to the last
investigation with what we already know, so that they too may be
so quickly that memory is left with practica lly no role co play, and I seem
k11011111; ai1d thirdly, to fi11d out what things should be compared with
to be inrniting the whole thing at once.
each <>tiler so that we make the most thorough use of all 011r hi1111a11
One ca nnot fail 10 see that in this way the sluggishness of the mind is
redressed and irs capacity even enlarged. Bur in addition we must note fJowers.
that the greatesr advan tage of this Ru le lies in the fact that by reflecting T his Ruic sums up everything that has been said above, an d sets out a 4 ti
on the mutua l dependence of simple proposit ions we acquire the habit of genera l lesson the details of which remain to be explained as fol lows.
distinguishing al a glance what is more, and what is less, relative, and by Where knowledge of things is concerned, only two factors need co be
what steps th e relative may be reduced to the absolute. For example, if I considered: ourselves, the knowing subjects, and the things which arc the
run through a number of magnitudes which arc continued proportionals, obje<ts of knowledge. As for ourselves, there are only four faculties
J shall be struck by the following points. It is just as easy for me co which we can use for this purpose, viz. intellect, imagination, sense-
recognize the relation between the 6rst and the second magnitude, as pcrception and memory. It is of course only the intellect rhat is capable of
between the second and the third, the third and fourth, etc., and rhe act perceiving the truth, but it has to be assisted by imagination, scnsc-
of conceiving is cxaccly similar in each case. But it is more difficult for me pcrccption and memory if we are not to omit anything which lies wi thin
co form a simulraneous conception of the relation of the second our power. As for the objects of knowledge, it is enough if we examine
magnitude to the first and the third; and it is much more difficult still to the following three questions: Whal prcscncs itself to us spontaneously?
concei,e rhe way in which it depends on the first and founh magnitudes, How can one thing be known on the basis of something else? \Vha1
etc. These considerations enable me to understand why it is that, given conclusions can be drawn from each of these? This seems co me to be a
only the first and second magnitudes, I can easily find the rhird and complete enumeration and to omit nothing which is within the range of
fourth, etc.: the reason is that the discovery is made by means of hum:rn endeavour.
particular and distinc1 acts of conceiving. But if only the first and the Turning now to the first factor, I should like to explain ac this point
410 third arc given, it will not be so easy fo{ me to discern the intermediate 1 Re;idrng compon~11d.1, A; comparanda, H, 'to compare'.
Rules for the Direction of the Mind Rule Twelve 41

what the human mind is, what the body is and how it is informed' by the you may suppose colo ur ro be, you will not deny that it is extended and
mind, what faculties with in the composite who le promote knowledge of consequently has shape. So what rroublesome consequences could there
things, and what each particular faculty does; but l lack the space, I be if - while avoiding the use le.ss assumpti on and pointless invemion of
think, to include all the points which have to be set out before the truth some new entity, and without denying what others have preferred to
about these matters can be made clear to everyone. For my aim is always think on the subject - we simply make an abstraction, setting aside every
to write in such a way that I make no assertions on matters which are apt feature of colou r apa rt from its possessing the character of shape, and
to give rise to controversy, without first setting out the reasons which Jed conceive of the difference between white, blue, red, ere. as being like the
me to make them and which l th ink others may find convincing too. difference between the following figures or similar ones?
But since 1 cannot do that here, it will be sufficient if I explain as briefly
as possible wha t, for my purposes, is the most useful way of conceiving
everything within us which contributes to m11 knowledge of things. Of
course you are not ob liged to believe chat rhings are as I suggest. Bue
what is to prevent you from following these suppositions if it is obvious
that they detract not a jot from the truth of things, but simply make
everything much clearer? This is just what you do in geometry when you
make certain assumptions about quantity, which in no way weaken the
force of the demonstrations, even though in physics you often take a
different view of the natu re of quantity.
Let us then conceive of the ma tter in the fo llowing way. First, in so far The same can be sa id about everything perceivable by the senses, since
as our external senses are all parts of th e body, se nse-perception, strictly it is certain that the infinite multiplicity of figures is sufficient for the
speaking, is merely passive, even though our application of the senses to expression of all the differences in perceptible things.
objects involves acrion, viz. loca l motion; sense-perception occu rs in the Secondly, when an externa l sense organ is stimulated by an object , the 414
same way in which wax takes on an impression from a seal. Jr should not figure wh ich ir receives is conveyed at one and the same moment to
be thought that I have a mere analogy in mind here: we must think of the another part of the body known as the 'common' sense, 1 without any
external shape of the sentient body as be ing really changed by the object entity really passing from the one to the other. In exactl y the sa me way I
in exacrly the same way as the shape of the surface of the wax is altered understand chat while J am writing, at the very moment when individual
by the seal. This is the case, we muse admit, not only when we feel some letters arc traced on the paper, not 011ly does the point of the pen move,
body as having a shape, as being hard o r rough to the touch etc., but also but th e sligh test motion of this part cannot but be transmitted simul
when we have a tactile perception of beat o r cold and the like. The same taneously to the whole pen. All these various motions are traced out in
is true of the other senses: thus, in the eye, the first opaque membrane the air by the tip of the quill, even though I do not conceive of anything
receives the shape impressed upon it by multi-co loured light; and in the real passing from one end to the other. Who then would think that the
ears, the nose and the tongue, the first membrane which is impervious to connection between the parrs of tbe human body is less close than rh:u
the passage of the object thus takes on a new shape from the sound, the between the pa rts of the pen' What si mpler way of portraying the mat 1cr
smell and the flavour respectively. can be imagined?
This is a most helpful way of conceiv ing these matters, since nothing is T hirdly, the 'common' sense functions like a seal, fashioning in the
more readily perceivable by the senses t han sbape, for it can be touched phantasy2 or imagination, as if in wax, the sa me figures or ideas which
as well as seen. Moreover, the consequences of this supposition are no come, pure and wi thou t body, from the external senses. The phantasy is a
more false than tJ10se of any other. This is demonstrated b) the fact that 1 An Aristotelian expression signifying an internal sc11sc whkh receives and cc-ordinates
the concept of shape is so simple and common that it is involved in impressions from the five external senses. See De Anima, 111, 1, 415Jr 4.
everything perceivable by the senses. Take colour, for example: whatever z Lat. phauJasia, a term which for Descartes frequently means the same as imaginatio,
chough iris [he term he prefers rouse when speaking of the part of tht brain in which the
l A scholasric term (Qnveying the Aristotelian notion that rhe soul is the 'form' of the physical processes associt1tcd with imngining rake place. When the latter use is dearly
body. intended, rhe rr:-1nsl:uion 'corporeal imagination' is adopted below.
Rr<les for the Direction of the Mind Rule Twelve 43
genuine part of the body, and is large enough to allow different parts of it regarding it as being capable of performing rhese different operations;
to cake on many different figures and, generally, to retain them for some and the distinction between these terms will have to be kept in mind in
ume; in which case it is to be idcmified wit h what we call 'memory'. what follows. If all these matters are conceived along such lines, the
Fourthly, the motive power (i.e. rhe nerves themselves) has its origin in attentive reader will have no difficulty in gathering what aids we should
the brain, where the corporeal imagination is located; and the latter seek to obtain from each of these faculties and the lengrhs 10 which
moves the nerves in different ways, just as the 'common' sense is moved human endeavour can be stretched in supplementing the shortcomings of
by the external senses or the whole pen is moved by its lower end . This our nati\'e intelligence.
41 5 exampl e also shows how the corporeal imagination can be the cause of The intellect can either be stim ulated by the imagination or act upon ir.
many different movemems in rhe nerves, C\en though it docs not have Likewise the imagination can act upon the senses throllgh the motive
images of these movement-~ im pr inted on it, bur has certain orber images force, by directing them ro objects, while the senses in their 111rn can acr
which enable these movements co foll ow on. Aga in , rhc pen as a whole upon the imaginario n, by depicting the images of bodies upon ii'. Hur
docs not move in exactly the same way ns its lower end; on the contrary, memory is no different from im agination - at least the memory which is
the upper part of the pen seems to have a quite different and opposire corporeal and similar to rhe one wh ich animals possess. So we can
movcmem. This enables us to understand how all the movemems of conclude wirh certainty that when the intellect is concerned with matters
other animals can come about, even though we refuse to allow rhar [hey in which there is norhing corporea l or similar co rhe corporeal, it cannot
ha\'e any awareness of things, but merely grant rhem a purely corporeal receive any help from those faculties; on the conrrary, if it is nor to be
imagination. It also enables us [0 understand how there occur within us hampered by them, rhe senses must be kept back and the imagination
all those operations which we perform without any help from reason. must, as far as possible, be divested of every distinct impression. If,
Fifthly, and lastly, the power through which we know things in the however, the intellect proposes to examine something which can be
mict sense is purely spiritual, and is no less distinct from the whole body referred to the body, the idea of rhat thing must be formed as distinctly as 4 17
rhan blood is distinct from bone, or rhe hand from the eye. It is one single possible in the imagination. In order to do this properly, the thing itself
power, whether it receives figures from the 'common' sense at the same which this idea is to represent should be displayed to the external senses.
time as does the corporea l imagination, or applies itself to those which A plurality of things can not be of assistance to the intellect in distinctly
are preserved in rhe memory, o r forms new 011cs which so preoccupy rhc intuiting individual thi ngs. Ra1hcr, i11 order ro deduce a single thing from
imagination tha t it is ofren in no position t0 receive ideas from the a coll ection of things - a freq uent rask - we muse discard from the ideas
'common' sense at the same time, or to t ransmit them to the power of the things whatever does not demand o ur present a!fenrion, so 1hac the
responsible for motion in accordance with a purely corporeal mode of remaining features can be retained more readily in the memory. In the
operation. In all these functions lhc cognitive power is sometimes same way, it is not rh e rhings themselves which should be displa)ed to the
passive, sometimes active; sometimes resembling the seal, sometimes the external senses, but rarhcr cerrain abbreviated representations of them;
wax. But this should be understood merely as an analogy, for nothing and the more compact rhese are, the handier [hey are, provided they acr
quite like this power is co be found in corporeal things. It is one and the as adequa[e safeguards against lapses of memory. If we observe all these
416 same power: when applying itself along with imaginarion to the 'com points, then I think we shall omit nothing which pertains to this part of
mon' sense, it is said to sec, couch etc.; when addressing itself 10 the cbe Rule.
imagination alone, in so far as the latter is invested with various figures, Let us now take up the second foctor. 1 Our aim here is to dmin1tm>h
it is said to remember; when applying itself to the imagination in order to carefully the notions of simple things from those which are composed of
Corm new figures, it is said to imagine or conceive; and lastly, when them, and in both cases to try to sec where falsity can come in, ~o thnt we
it acts on its own, it is said 10 understand. How understanding comes may guard againsr it, and co see wha t ca 11 be known with certaint y, so
abollt J shall exp lain at greater length in t he appropriate place. According that we may concern o urselves exclusively with that. To this end, as
to its different functions, then, rhe same power is called either pure be fore, certain assumptions must be made in this conrex t which perhaps
intellect, o r imagination, or memory, or sense-perception. Bur when it not everyone wi ll accept. But C\'en if th ey arc thought robe no more real
forms new ideas in the corporea l imagination, or concentrates on those than the imaginary circles which asrronomers use to describe the
already formed, rhe proper term for it is 'na tive inrelligence'. We are I.e. the ob1ccrs of knowledge. See above, p. 39.

'
44 Rules for the Directio11 of the Mind Rule Twelve 45

phenomena they S1Udy, this matters little, provided they help us to pick degree of rat ionality. T hose simple natures, on the other hand, which are
out the kind of apprehension of any given thing that may be true and to recognized to be present only in bodies - such as shape, extension and
distinguish it fro m the kind that may be false. motion, etc. - are purely material. Lastly, those simples are to be termed
4 18 \Y/c stare our view, then, in the fol lowing wa)' First, when we consider 'common' which are ascribed indifferently, now co corporeal things, now
things in the order that corresponds to our knowledge of rhem, our "iew co spirirs - for instance, existence, unity, duration and the like. T o this
of th em must be differem from what it would be if we were speaking of class we must also refer those common notions which are, as it were,
them in accordance with how they exist in reality. If, for example, we links which connect other simple natures together, and whose self
consider some body which has extension and shape, we shall indeed evidence is the basts for all the rational inferences we make. Examples of
adm it that, with respect to rhe thing itself, it is one single and simple these are: 'Things that arc the same as a third thing are the same as each
emity. For, viewed in that way, ir cannot be said to be a composite made other'; 'Things that cannot be relaced in the same way to a third thing are
up of corporeal nature, extension and shape, since these constituents different in some respect.' These common notions can be known either by
have nc,cr exi~red in isolation from each other. Yet with respect to our the pure intell ect o r by the intellect as it intuits the images of material 420
intellect we call it a composite made up of these three natures, because we rhings.
undemood each of them separately before we were in a position to judge M oreover, it is as well to count among the simple natures the
that the three of them are encountered at the same time in one and the corresponding privations and nega tio ns, in so far as we understand these.
same subject. That is why, since we are concerned here with things only in For when I intuit what nothing is, or an instanc, or rest, my apprehensio n
so far as they arc perceived by the inccllcct, we term 'simple' only chose is as much genuine knowledge as my understanding what existence is, or
things which we know so clearly and distinctly that they cannot be duration, or morion. This way of conceiving things will be helpful later
divided by the mind inro others which are more distinctly known. Shape, on in enabling 11s to say that al l the rest of what we know is put cogerher
extension and morio n, ere. are of this sort; all the rest we conceive to be o ur of rhese simple natures . Thus, if J judge that a certain shape is not
in a sense composed our of these. T his point is co be rakcn in a very moving, l shall say that my th ought is in some way composed of shape
ge neral sense, so tha t no r even the th ings that we occasionally abstract and rest; and similarl y in other cases.
from these simp les are exceptio n ~ to it. \Y/c arc abstracting, for example, Thirdly, these simple natures are all sclfcvident and never contain any
when we say rhar shape is the limit of all extended thing, conceiving by falsity. This can easily be shown if we distinguish between the facu lty by
che term ' limit' so mething more genera l than shape, since we can ralk of wh ich our intellect intuits and knows things and the faculty by which it
the limit of a duration, the limit of a mo rion, etc. But, even if the sense of makes affirmative or nega tive judgements. For it can happen that we
the term 'limir' is derived by abstraction from the notion of shape, tha t is t hink we are ignorant of things we really know, as for example when we
4 r9 no reason ro regard it as simpler than shape. On the contra ry, since the suspccc that they contain something else which eludes us, somed1ing
term 'limit' is also appli ed to other thi ngs - such as the limit of a dura tion beyond what we intuit or reach in our thinking, even though we arc
or a morion, ere., things torally different in kind from shape - it must misrnken in thinking this. For this reason , it is evident that we arc
have been absrracred from these as well. Hence, it is something com- mistaken if we ever judge that we lack complete knowledge of any one of
pounded our of many quite different natures, and the term 'limir' does these simple natures. For if we have even the slightest grasp of it in our
not have a univocal application in all these cases. mind - which we sure ly must have, on the assumption that we are
Second ly, rhose things which are said to be simple with respect co 011 r making a judgement abour it - it must follow that we have complete
intellect arc, o n our view, eicher purely intellectual or purely material, or knowledge of it. O therwise it could nor be said to be simple, bu t a 421
common ro both. Those simple natures which rhc intellect recognizes by composite made up of that which we perceive in it and that of which we
means of a sort of innate light, without the aid of any corporeal image, judge we are ignorant.
are purely inrellecrual. l11at there is a number of such things is cenain: it Fourthly, the conjunction between these simple things is either neccs
is impossible ro form any corporeal idea which represents for us what s:ir) or co111inge111. The conjunction is necessary when o ne of rhem is
knowledge or doubt or ignorance is, or the action of the will, which may somehow implied (albeit confusedly) in che concept of the other so that
be called 'volition', and the like; a nd yet we have real knowledge of all of we cannot conceive either of them discinctly if we judge them to be
these, knowledge so easy char in order to possess it all we need is some separate from e:ich o ther. It is in this way that shape is conjo ined with
'
Rules for the Direction of the Mind Rule Twelve 47

extension, motion with duration o r time, ere., because we cannot from its own reflexive self-contemplation . We sho uld note here that the 423
conceive of a shape which is completely lacking in extension, o r a morion intell ect can never be deceived by any experience, provided that when the
wholly lacking in duration. Similarly, if I say that 4 and 3 make 7, rhe object is presented to it, it intuits it in a fashion exactly corresponding to
compositio n is a necessary o ne, for we do not have a distinct conceprion the way in which it possesses the object, either within itself or in the
of the num ber 7 un less in a confused so rr of way we include 3 and 4 in it. imagination. Fu rthermore, it must not judge tbat the imaginarion
In the same way, whatever we demonstrate concerning figu res or faithfully represents rhe objects of the senses, or that rhe senses take on
numbers necessarily links up with t hat of which it is affirmed. Th is the true shapes of things, or in short that external things always are just
necessity applies not just ro things which are perceivable by the senses but as they a ppear to be. Jn all such cases we are liable to go wrong, as we do
to others as well . If, for example, Socrates says that he doubts everything, for example when we take as gospel truth a story which someone has told
it nece.ssa rily folJows chat he understands at least that he is doubting, and us; or as someone who has jaundice does when, owing to the ye llow tinge
hence thar he knows that something ca n be true or false, etc.; for there is of his eyes, he thinks everything is coloured yellow; o r again, as we do
a necessary con necti on between these facts an d the nature of doubt. T he when our imagination is impaired (as it is in depressio n) and we think
union between such things, however, is contingent when the relation that its d isordered images represent real things. Bur the understandi ng of
conjoin in g them is not an inseparable one . T his is the case when we say the wise man will not be deceived in such cases: while he will judge that
chat a body is animate, rhat a man is dressed, etc. Aga in, there arc many whatever comes ro him from his imagination really is depicted in it, he
instances of things which are necessarily conjoi ned, even though most will never assert rhat it passes, complete and unaltered, from the externa l
people counr them as contingent, faili ng ro notice rhe relation between world to his senses, and from his senses to the corporeal imagination,
4u chem: for example th e proposition, ' I am, therefore God exists', or 'I unless he alread y has some other grounds for claiming to know this. But
understand, therefore I have a mind d istinct from my body.' Finally, we whenever we believe that an object of our understa nd ing contains
must note that very many necessary propositions, when convened, are something of which the mind has no immediate pe rceptual experience,
contingent. T1111s from the fact that I exist I may conclude with cerrai nty then it is we ourselves who are responsible for irs compositio n. In the
that God exists, but from the fact that God exists I cannot legitim ately same way, when someone who has jaundice is con vi11ccd that the things
assert rhat I too ex ist. be sees are yellow, this th ought of his will be com posite, consisring partly
Fifth ly, it is not possible for us ever to understand anything beyond of what his corporeal imaginatio n represents co him and partly of the
chose si mple natures and a certa in mix ture or compoundi ng of one with assumption he is making on his ow n account, viz. that the colour looks
anorher. Indeed, it is often easier to attend at o nce to several mutually yel low not owing to any defect of vision bur because the things he sees
conjoined natures than co sepa rate one of i-hcm from the others. For really are yellow. It follows from this thar we can go wrong on ly when
example, I can have knowledge of a triangle, even tho ugh it has never we ourselves compose in some way the objects of our belief.
occurred to me that rhis knowledge involves knowledge also of the angle, Seventhly, this composition can come about in three ways: through 424
the line, the num ber three, shape, extension, etc. But chat does not impulse, through conjecture o r th rough deduction . It is a case of
preclude our saying that the nature of a triangle is composed of these composition through impulse when, in forming judgements abour things,
other natures and that they arc better known rhan the triangle, for it is our mind leads us co believe something, not because good reasons
just these narures that we understand to be presenr in it. Perhaps there are convince us of ir, but simply because we are caused to be lieve it, either by
many additional natures implicitly contained in the triangle which escape some superior power, or by o ur free will, or by a disposition of the
our notice, such as the size of the angles being equal to two right angles, corporeal imagination. "The firsr cause is never a source of error, the
the innumerable relations between the sides and the angles, the size of its second rarely, the third almost always; bur the first of these is irrelevant
surface area, etc. in this context, since it does nor come wicbjn the scope of method. An
Sixthly, those narures which we call 'composite' are known by us example of composition by way of conjecture would be our surmising
either because we learn from experience what sore rhey are, o r because that above the air there is nothing bur a very pure ether, much thi nner
we ourselves put them together. Our experience consists of whatever we than air, on the grounds that water, being further from rhe cemre of the
perceive by means of th e senses, whatever we learn from others, and in globe than earth, is a chinner substance than ea rth, aod air, which rises to
general whatever reaches o ur intellect either from external sources or greater hcig hrs than water, is thinner still. Nothing that we put cogethet
....
Rules for the Direction of the Mind Rule T111e/11e 49
in 1his way really deceives us, so long :IS we judge ic co be merely things which are self-e"ident in terms of something even more evident:
probable, and never assert it ro be true; nor for 1har matter does it make what they do is to explain something else or nothing at all. For example,
us any chc wiser. 1 can anyone foil 10 percei\C all the respects in which change occurs1 when
Deduction, therefore, remains as our sole means of compounding we change our place? And when told tha t 'place is the surface of the
rhings in a way that enables us robe certain of 1hcir truth. Yer e'en wi1h surrounding body',? would anyone co1lCeive of the ma1ter in 1he same
dcduc1ion 1here can be many drawbacks. If, say, we conclude that a given way? For the surface of the 'surrounding body' can change, even though I
space fu ll of air is empty, on the grounds that we do nor perceive do not move or change my place; conversely, it may move along with me,
anything in it, either by sight, touch, or any ocher sense, then we are so that, although it still surro unds me, I am no longer in the same place.
incorrectl y conjoini ng the nature of a vacuum with the nature of this Agai n, when people say chat moti on, something perfectly familiar to
space. This is just what happens when we judge that we can deduce everyone, is 'the actuality of a potential being, in so far as ir is poten
so mething ge neral and necessary from so mething particu lar and contin tia l',3 do they nor give the im t>rcssion of uttering magic words which
ge nt. l:lur it is wi thin our power to avoid chis error, viz. by never have a hidden mea ning beyond the grasp of the human mind? For
conjoining things unless we intuit that the co njunction of one with t he who can understand these expressions? Who does nor know what
other is wholl y necessary, as we do for example when we deduce that motion is? Who would deny that these people are finding a difficulty
nothing which lacks extension can have a shape, on the grounds that where none exists? It must be said, rhen, that we should never explain
there is a necessary connection between shape and extension, and so on. things of this sort br definitions; ID case we take bold of composite
From all these considerations we may draw several conclusions. First, things instead of simple ones. Rather, each of us, according to the light of
we have explained distinctly and, I think, by an adeq uate enumeration, his own mind, must attentively intuit only those things which are 4:t7
what at the outset we were able to present only in a confused and distinguished from all others.
rough-and-ready way, viz. that rherc arc no paths to certain knowledge Third, [he whole of human knowledge> consim uniquely in our
of the truth accessible ro men save manifest intuition and necessary achieving a distinct perception of how all these simple natures contribute
deduction . We have also exp lained what the simple natures are which to che composition of ocher things. This is a very useful point to note,
were mentioned in Rule Eight. It is clear th at menta l intuition extends to since whenever some difficulry is proposed for investigation, almost
all these si mple natures and to our knowledge of the necessary connec everyone gets scuck right at the outset, un certain as to whi ch thoughts be
tions between them, and in short to eve ryrhing else wh ich the intellect ought to concentrate his mind on, yet quite convinced that he ought to
finds to be present exactly within itsel f or in the corporeal im aginatio n. seek some new kind of entity previous ly unknown to him. Thus, if the
Bue I shall have more co say about deduction bclow. 2 question concerns the nmure of the magnet, foreseeing that the topic will
Second, we need take no great pains to discover rhese simple natures, prove inaccessible and difficult, he turns his mind away from everything
because they are sel f-evidem enough. WhJt requires effort is distin that is evident, and immediately directs ir at all the most difficult points,
guishing one from another, and intuiting each one separately with ID the vague expectation that by rambling through the barren field of
steadfast mental gaze. Tbere is no one so dull-wined char he fails to manifold causes he will hit upon something new. But rake someone who
perceive 1har when sitting he is to some extent different from what he is thinks that nothing in the magnet can be known which does not consiM
when standing; but it is not everyone who can distinguish just as of certain self-cvidem, simple natures: he is in no doubt about how lu
distinctly th e nature of posture from the other notions which this thought should proceed. First he carefully garhers together all the av,1il.1hlc
contai ns, or who can assert that it is only the posrure which alters in these observarions6 concerning the stone in question; then he tric' to dcd1Kc
rwo cases. There is good reason for o ur urging this point here, because from this what sort of mix cure of simple natures i> 1trt<'"t1 y for
the learned are often inclined to be so clever rhac they find ways of producing all the effects which the magnet is found to h:1vt. Omc he Im>
bli nding themselves even to faces which arc sel f-ev ident and which every 1 Re:.ding immutatur. A, H (followin~ Crapulli). AT .ulop1 I c1h11i!'N mend.11io11,
peasant knows. T his is what happens whenever they cry and expla in immtttamur ('w(' ch~nge').
1 Cf. Aristotle, Phy$frs, 1v, ,., t.n~s. l Cf. Ari-.rntlc, t)h) ;/u, 111, 1, J.0 1 '1 0.
1

1 1:ollowmg Crapulli's reading of A :ind f I, mm ftrcit ('does nor make'). AT rC<'ld nos fadl -i Cf. l'rindples. Part 1, :m. 1o, p. 19s below.
('m:ikcs us') without gi\ing any v~uiant rc~ding. ~ Lat. $(it.ur;t1; se~ foomu1t on 1>. 10 .ibove.
i S. potnt tight below, p. 50. \ 6 l.:u . ~XfJtmm!nlii; stt foocnotc on 1ht <'quivl1lcnt I rrm.h 1um ,.,,,,.,,,,,. '' Jl I <4 \ h<low.
50 Rules for the Direction of rile Mi11d Rule T/1irteen

discovered this mixture, he is in a position to make the bold claim that be the final se1 of twelve Rules.1 l11c division between perfecrly understood
bas grasped the true nature of the magnet, so far as it is humanly possible and imperfecrly understood problems is one that we have introduced
to discover it on the basis of given obscrvauoos. quite deliberarely: its purpose is partly to save us from having co mention
lastly, from what bas been said ir follows that we should nor regard anything which presupposes :m acquaintance with what follows, and
some branches of our knowledge of things as more obscure than others, partly co enable us to set forth fir~t those matters which in our view have
4z.8 since they are all of the same nature and consist simply in the putting to be tackled first if we arc co cultivate our mental powers. We must note
together of self-evident facts. Very few people are aware of this point. chat a problem is co be counted as perfectly understood only if we have a
Prepossessed by rhe opposi re view, the more confident among them do distinct perception or 1hc following three points : first, what the criteri a
not hesitate 10 proclai m their own conjectures as true demonstrations: in are which enabl e us co recognize what we are look ing for when we come
maucrs about whi ch chey are completely ignorant they pronounce that upon it; second, what exactly is the basis from wliicb we ought to dedu ce
they sec, as if through a cloud, truths wh ich arc often obscure; and they ii; third, how it is to be proved that the two arc so mmually dependent
have no qualms abo ut making such claims. They tie their concepts up in that the one cannot alter in any respect without there being a correspond-
various technical terms and, fortified with these, arc inclined to discuss, ing alteration in the other. So now that we possess all the premisses, the
coherently enough, many matters which neither they themselves nor their only thing that remains to be shown is how the conclusion is to be found.
listeners really understand. Bue th e more modest among them ofren This is not a matter of drawing a single deduction from a single, simple
refrain from investigating many matters - even though they are not fact, for, as we have already pointed out, that can be done without the
difficult and are quite essential for life - simply because they deem aid of ru les; it is, rather, a mauer of dcrhing a single fact which depends
1hemselves unequal 10 1he cask. And since they think that such matters on many interconnected facts, and of doing this in such a methodical way
can best be understood by others who arc more intellectually gifted, that no greater intellectual capacity is required than is needed for the
1hey embrace the views of those in whose authority they have more simplest inference. Problems of this sort are for the mos1 part abstract,
confidence. and arise almost exclusively in :1rithmetic and geomet ry, which is why 430
Eighrhly, 1 deduction ca n only proceed from words to things, from they will see m co ignorant people to be of little use. But chose who desire
effects to causes o r from causes to effects, from like to like, from parts to a perfect mastery of the latter part of my me1hod (which dea ls with the
pans or ro the whol e . ..2 ocher sort of problem) should be advised that a long period of smdy and
Fo r 1he rest, in case anyone should fo il to sec th e imerconnection practice is needed in order 10 acquire this technique.
between ou r Rules, we divide everything th at can be known into simple
propositions and problems . As for simple propositions, rhe only rules we Rule Thirteen
provide arc those which prepare our cognitive powers for a more distinct
lf zve perfect/) 1mdersta11d a />rob/em zve must abstract it from every
imuiuon of any given object and for a more discerning examination of it.
superf/t1ous conceptio11, red11ce it to its simplest tenns a11d, by 111ea11s of
For these simple propositions must occur ro us spontaneously; they all enumeration, divide it up i1110 the smallest possible parts.
4~9 cannot be soughr out. We have CO\'Cred simple propositions in rhe
precedmg I\\ elvc Rules, and everything that might in an)' way facilitate This is the sole respect in which we imitate the dialeccicians: when they
the exercise of reason has, we chink, been presented in them. As for expound the forms of rhc syllogisms, they presuppose that the 1erm' or
problems, however, some can be understood pcrfectl)', even 1hough we subject-matter of the syllogisms are known; similarly, we arc nmk1 11i: It .1
do not know the solutions 10 1hem, while ochers are nor perfectly prerequisite here that the problem under investigaiion 1' l"'d ,,tly
understood. \Y/e shall dea l solely wirh the former sort of problems in the understood. But we do not distinguish, as they do, a middk 1rrin .111d 1wo
following twelve Rules, and shall postpone discussion of: the latter until extreme terms.2 We view the whole matter in the followi111: w.1y. l'ir,1, m
1 Reading oc:llfvo A. followiag Crnpulli. The varh1111. sto, in His a misreading of Sto. This every problem there must l>c somethi ng unk nown; odw1w1~1 1hnc would
is lhe eigh1 h 'assuntprion', following on n:uur:lll)' froru rhc scvcntll (p. 47 above).
Conclus101is one to four (pp. -4 8(f) are a Jong c.ligtt)sion betwten assurnphons' seven a.nd 1 The final ser of cwdvt Rule~ wri:t nor cumplcccd. ~c..'( 'I t:11hl.11<11 '11 1'111.h 1. 11 ., ,\hcwt.
dgh1. 1 The middle term of a cmq;oric.tl :i)llofUM11 i~ rht term wh1d1 11(.\UI\ 111hoth11runi""cs hut
2 There is 3 lacuna in the rexts of A and Har rhis J>Oint. l"ht coptc js takt'n up agaia below, not in the conclusi on~ tht t'<crtmc ll'nll\ .1tr lh(' 1wn m1m 4,1d1 ol \\h1d1 ou111"' in one:
PP nf. , 1>rtn11~1, only, Jnd whu.h ,1n umn('' h.d in the 1;0114-IUMWI
Rules for the Direction of tlie Mind Rule Thirteen 51
be no point in posing the problem. Secondly, this unknown something eleven Ru les may be required. How this is to be done will be made clearer
must be delineated in some wa)', otherwise there would be nothing to in 1he third part of the treatise. By 'problems', moreover, we mean
point us to one line of investigation as opposed to any other. Thirdly, everything in which there lies truth or falsity. We must enumerate rhe
the unknown something can be dellneatcd only by way of something else different kinds o f problems, so 1hat we may determine what we have the
which is already known. These conditions hold also for imperfect power to achieve in each kind.
problems. If, for example, th e problem concerns the nature of the As we have already said , there can be no falsi1y in the mere intuition o f
431 magnet, we already understand what is meant by rhe words ' magnet' an d things, be they simple or conjoined. In that respect they a re nor called
'nature', a nd ir is this knowledge which determines us to adopt one line 'problems'; but they acquire that name as soon as we decide co make a
of inquiry rather than another, etc. But if the problem is to be perfect, we definite judgement about them. Indeed, it is not just the puzzles whi ch
want it to be determina te in every respect, so rhat we a re nor looking for others set that we count as problems. Socrates posed a problem about his
anyt hing beyond what can be deduced from the data. For example, own ignorance, o r r:ither doubt: when he became aware of his doubt, he
someone may ask me what conclusions an: to be drawn about the nature began to ask whether it was true that he was in doubt about f'crything,
o f the magnet simply from the experiments which Gilbert claims to have and h is answer was affirmative.
performed, be they true or false.' Or again I may be asked to determine Now, we are seeking to derive things from words, or causes from 433
what th e nature of sound is, solely and precisely from the following data: effects, or effects from causes, or a whole from parts or parts from 01her
three strings, A, B a nd C emit the same sound; B is twice as thick as A, parts, or several of these at once.
but no longer, and is tensioned by a weight which is twice as heavy: C is We say that we arc ~ccking to derive things from words whenever the
twice as long as A, thoug h not so 1hick, and is 1cnsioned by a weight four difficulty hes in the obscurity of the language employed. Riddles all
times as heavy. It is easy to see from such examples how imperfect belo ng to this class of problem: for example the riddle of th e Sphinx
problems ca n all be reduced to perfect ones - as I sh all expla in at greater about the animal which is four.footed to begin with, then two-footed,
length in the appropria1e place.2 We can also see how, by following this :ind later on becomes three-footed; or the one about the anglers standing
Rule, we ca n abstract a problem which is well understood from every on the shore with rod and line, maintaining that they no longer have the
irrelevant conception and reduce it to such a form that we a re no longer ones they caught but do have those which they have not yet managed rn
aware of dealing with this or that subject-matter but on l)' wi th certa in carch, ctc. 1 Moreover, in 1he vast majority of issues about which t he
magnitudes in gene ral and the comparison between them .J For example, learned dispute, the proble m is almost always one of words. There is no
once we have decided to investiga1e specific observations relating solely need, however, to have such a low opinion of grea t minds as to think that
to the mngnet, we no longer have any difficulty in d ismissing all other they have a wrong conception of 1he 1bings 1he mselves when they foi l to
observations fro m our mind. explain them in terms whi ch are quite a ppropriate. When, for example,
43 z. Furthermo re, the problem should be reduced to the simplest terms they define place as 't he surface of the surrounding body', they arc not
according ro Rul es Five and Six, and it should be divided up according to really concei ving anything false, but arc merely misusing the word
Rule Seven. Thus i( I cnrry o u1 many observations in my research on the 'place', which in its ordinary use denotes the simple and self-evidenr
magnet, 1 shall run thro ugh them separately one after another. Again, if narurc in virrue of which something is said to be here or there. This
th e subject of my research is sound , as in t he case above, I shall make nature consists enti rely in a certain relation between the thing said to be
sepa ra1e comparisons between strings A and B, then between A and C, at the place and the parts of extended 2 space. Some, seeing that the term
e1c., with a view to includ ing all of 1hem together in a sufficient 'place' has been used to denote the surrounding surface, have improperly
e numeration. With respcc! to the terms of a given problem, these rhree called this nature 'intrinsic place',3 and the same goes for other cases of 434
points are the on ly ones which the p ure intellect has to observe before
embark ing o n the final solution of the problem, for which the following
1 S<t below, p. SS
1 I.At . t.Xt<nu. A~ H. AT unncet'S~rilr emend ro ~.rterioris"fcxtenor'); Crapulli emends to
1 Williom Gilbtt1, r'>t Engli1h phrnmt (1J4C>-<6o3). aulhor ol !H Mag>1ete (1600). txlcrm ('cxtnnal').
2 Oe:1n<s did not complttc thos tok. In \Cholastu: physic: 'unnnsic' phct is rhc spxc whi<:h a bodr occupies. Cf. Princ 1pl~s.
3 Re:td1ng comparandas, H (tomponvida.s, A,\ composirion'). pp. 1171 bdo".
54 Rules for the Directio11 of tlu! Mi11d Rule Thirteen 55

this son. These questions about words arise so frequenrl}' that, if our confidence in it is due more to ingrained prejudice than to any certain
philosophers always agreed aboui the meanings o ( words, their con reason. In the riddle of the Sphinx, for example, there is no need to think
trovcrsies would almost all be at an end. that the word 'footed' refers cxclus1vely to real feet - to animal>' feet.
It is a problem of deriving causes from effect~ when in our investigation Rather, we should try and sec whether it can be applied figuratively to
into something we ask whether it exists, or what it is ... 1 other things as well, as it som~times is to a bab)''S hands or an old m:rn's
;\1oreover, when we arc given a problem to ~olvc, we arc often unable walking-stick, since these are borh used, like feet, for getting :ihout.
to rccogni7.c immediately what sort of problem it is, and whether it is a Likewise, in rhe conundrum about the ang lers, we must try not to let rhe
matter o( deriving things from words, or causes from effects, etc. Hence it thought of fish so preoccupy our minds that it d istracts us from thinking
wou ld, I think, be q uite pointless to give a lengthy account of the of those riny creat ures which rhe poor often unwlllingly carry abour their
different kinds of pro blem. Ir will be less t imeconsum ing and mo re person and throw away whcr1 caught. Aga in , the questio n may concern
con venient if instead we make a genera l and orderly survey of all the rbe way in which a ce rta in vessel is constru cted, such as the bowl we once
points which have to be covered in the solution of an)' d ifficulty saw, which had a column in the centre of it, on top of which was a figu re 436
whatever. Accordingly, no matter whm 1hc problem is, we must above all of Tanralus looking as if he was longing ro have a drink: water which
strive LO understand distinctly whm is being sought. was poured into the bowl remained within it, as long as the level was
Frequentl)' people are in such a hurry in their investigation of problems below Tantalus' mou1h ; hut as soon as the water reached the unfortunate
th:it they set about solving them with rhcir mmds blank - \\~1hout first man's lips, it all ran out. At first glance it might seem that the artistry here
1:1king account of rbe criteria which will enable them 10 recognize lay entirely in the consrruction of the figure ofTanralus, when in fact that
disrincdy the thing the)' are seeking, should 1hey come across i1. They are is merely a coincidental fearnre and by no means a factor which defines
thus behaving like a foolish scnant who, scnr on some errand by his rhe problem. The whole difficulty is this: how must the bowl be
master, b so eager to obey thar he dashes off without instructions and constructed if ii lers om all rhc water as soon as, but not before, it reaches
without knowing where he is to go. a fixed height ? One last example: say rhe question is, 'What can we assert
In every pcoblem, of course, there has to be something unknown - about the motion of che stars, given all the observational dara we have
otherwise the inquiry wou ld be point less. Nevert heless this unknown relating to them?' In rhis case we must not freely assume, as the ancients
435 something must be delineated by definite conditions, which point us d id, that the earth is motionless an d fixed at rbe centre of the universe,
decidedl y in one d irection of inquiry rather than another. These condi- just because from our infancy that is how it appeared to us to be. T har
tions should, in our view, be gone into right from the very o utset. \YJe assumption shou ld be called in doubt so that we may then consider what
shall do this if we concentrate our mind's eye on intui ting each individual in 1he way of certainty our judgemem may attain on this matter. And rhe
condition distinctly, looking carefully to sec ro whar extent each condi same goes for orher cases of this son.
tion dclimirs rhe unknown object of our inquiry. For in this context rhe On the other hand it is a sin of omission when we fail to take account
human mind is liable to go wrong in one or other of two ways: ir may of some condition necessary for defining a problem, a factor which i\
assume something beyond the data required ro define the problem, or on either explicitly stated in it or is on some way implied by it. Consider for
the o ther hand it may kave something out. example the question of perpetual motion - not the narural \':lrottv
\Vie mu>t rake care not to assume more than the dara, and nor to rake present in the stars and in springs, but the man-made variety. So111< h,1' 1
the da ra in too narrow a sense. This is especially true in the case of riddles believed that it is possible to achieve perpetual motion of Lhl\ "'"
and other enigmas ingeniously conrrived to rax our wits. But it applies Regarding rhe earth as being in perpetual circu lar mouon .11>0111m11\\ 11 117
sometimes to other problems as well, as for example, when for the sake axis, and the magnet as having all the properties of the t.irth, tl11) L11111k
of a solut ion we apparently rake something as if it were certain, although t hat they could invent pcrpcrua l motio n if they could 'l't llJI .1 lmll",iont
to mo \C in a ci rcle or :11 least get it co rransfc r m 11111111 111, 11h1 1111 w11h it~
01 her powers, to a piece of iron. Yet eve n if thi' w111 1111111', w h .11 t hey
1 A lacuna in the texu <Jf A :md H. The lost matter is perhaps partially reproduced by pl"oduccd would 1101 hr :lrl ificial pcrpc1u;1 I 1111)(11111; 11 \\1111 1.1 1111ply he a
Arnauld m the second edirion of hi' Logic (rhe- 'PurtRoyal Logic'), an <:xtract from n.llural motion which they h.1d harnc'>'l'<i, .111d would hi 1111 11ofkrcnt
which is givoo io tbe Appendix b<:low, p. 77. \ from the continuou' mo11011 protluled by 1il.1111111 .1 wlu 11 111 .1 111111 r.1<:c.
Rules for rhe Direction of the Mi11d Rule Fourteen 57

They would therefore be foili ng to take notice of a co ndirion which is means of a deduc1 ion of sons it is possible for him ro form images even of
essemial for defining 1he problem, cic. 1 those he has not seen, in virtue of their similarity ro those he has seen. 1 In 4 19
Once we have sufficiently underslood tbe pwblem, we should try and the same way, if the magnet contains some kind of enriry the like of
see exacrly where rhc difficulty lies, so chat by abstracting it from which our intellect ha neer before percei\ed, it is pointless ro hope rhat
everything else, the problem may be the more easily solved. we shall ever ger to know it simply by reasomng; in order to do rhat, we
In order 10 find ou1 where the difficulty lies, it is not always sufficient should need to be endowed with some new sense, or with a divine mind.
simply to underSt3nd 1he problem; we must also give thought to the Bur if we perceive very distinctly 1ha1 combination of familiar entities or
particular foctors which arc csse111ial 10 it. If any considerarions should natures which produces the same effects which appear in rhe magnet,
occur to us which arc easy 10 discover, we shall put these aside; and once then we sha ll cred it ourselves with having achieved whate\er it is possible
these have been eliminated, wh:u wc arc left with will be just the point we for the human mind to attain in th is matter.
are looking for. Thus in the case described above, it is easy to see how the Indeed, it is by means of one and rhe same idea char we recognize in
bowl must be constructed. Once we ha,e set aside, as irrclevaoc to rhe different subjects2 each of these familiar entities, such as extension,
issue, such features as the column in the middle, the picture of the bird, shape, 111011011 a nd the like (which we need nor enumerate here). The
etc., the problem is laid bare, which is to explain why it is rhac all the question whether a crown is made of silver or of gold makes no difference
438 water nows o ur of the bowl when it reaches a certain level. t0 the way we imagine its shape. This common idea is carried over from
The on ly lhing wonh doing, then, in our view is to scrutinize in due one subject 10 th e other solely hy means of a simple comparison, which
order all the factors given in the problem at hand, to dismiss chose which enables us 10 state that the thing we are seeking is in this or that respect
we plainly see :ire irrelevant 10 the issue, co hold o nto those which are similar co, or identical with, or equal to, some given thing. Accordingly,
essential, and to submit the doubtful ones to a more careful examination. in all reasoning i1 is only by means of comparison that we attain an exact
know ledge of the truth. Consider, for example, the inference: all A is 11,
all B is C, therefore all A is C. ln this case the thing sought and the thing
Rllle Fourteen given, f\ and C, are compared with respect to their both being B, etc. But,
as we have frequently insisted,J the syllogistic forms are of no help in
The problem sbould be 1e-expressed iii terms of the real extension of grasping the nuth of things . So it wil l be to the reader's advantage to 44 0
bodies a11d s/Jo1rld be pictured i11 our im11ginatioi1 entirely b) me1111s of reject them altogether and to think of all knowledge whatever - save
bare fig11res. Tims it will be perceived n111cl1 more distinctly by or-1r knowledge obtained through simple and pure intuition of a sin gle,
intellect. solitary thing - as resulting from a compa rison between two or more
things. In fact the business of human reason consists almost entirely in
If, mo reover, we are to make u~c of lhe inrnginarion as an aid we should preparing for chis operation. For when the operation is stra ightforward
note chat whenever we deduce something unknown from something and simple, we have no need of a tcdmiquc to help us intuit rhe truth
already known, it docs not follow that we are discovering some new kind which the comparison yields; all we need is the light of nature.
of entity, but merely that we are extending our entire knowledge of the We should note that rnmparisons are said to be simple and s1rai~h1
topic in question to the poi n1 where we perceive that the thing we are forward on ly when the thing sought and the initial data panidp;lll"
looking for participates in this "ay or that way in the nature of the things equally in a cerlain nature. The reason why preparation i" rcq1111<d fur
given in the statement of the problem. For example, if someone is blind other sorts of comparison is simply that the common natun 1111111r,111m
from birrh, we should noc expect ro be able by force of argument to get is not pre1>ent equally in both, but only by way of 01her r.-l.1111111' or
him t0 ha,c true ideas of colour.. ju~t like the ones we have, derived as
they are from the senses. But if someone at some time has seen rhe
primary colours, though not the secondary or mixed colours, then by ' It ce>ntam' 1hc: muc (in 1he m.1rg111J. 'This C"<3mpft 1\ noc .11'..olurc-h lniC", h11t I tl<I not
h.ue a brtter on<" for n}llk.umg what~ crut.'
J.1.t. 'uht""\.h ot wh1c.h .lttr1bu1f'\ .lrt rtt'lhC'.ttnJ tbr '411 ..1 \\11 11.h 't11h1,, t' i('llr"f.111\ bC',ln,
1 This possage folio""< th<: xi ol A. lht 1u1 ol AT is bsed o H. and coorains several m chC" R.1,frJ
minor cmencfacions. \ , \('( .1ht.,c. rr. , J,, 111, s"
58 R11/cs for the Direction of the Mind Rule Fourteen 59

proportions which impl y it. The chief part of human endeavour is simply these Rules are so usefu l in the pursuit of deeper wisdom that I have no
10 reduce th ese proportions 10 the poi nr where an equality between what hesitation in saying 1ba1 this part of our method was designed no1 just for
we arc seeking and wha1 we aln:ady know is dearly visible. the sake of mathematical problems; our intention was, rather, rhar the
We sho uld nore, moreover, that norbing can be reduced to such an marhemarical problems should be studied almost exclusively for the sa ke
equa lity except wha1 admits of differences of degree, and every1hing of the excellent practice wh ich they give us in the me1hod. I shall not
covered by the term 'magnitude'. Consequently, when the terms of a assume anything drawn from the aforementioned disciplines, save
problem have been abs1rac1cd from every subject in accordance with the perhaps certain faces which arc self-evident and accessible co everyone.
preceding Rule, then we understand that all we have to deal with here are Bur the usual sore of knowledge of these subjects wbkh ochers have, even
magnitudes in general. if not vitiated by any glaring errors, is nevertheless obscured by many
The final poin t to no1e is 1his: if we are to imagine somethjng, and are vague and ill-conceived principles, which from time to rime we shall
10 make use, nor of the pure intellect, bu1 of 1he intellect aided by images endeavour to correct in the following pages.
44 r depicted in the imagination, then nothing can be ascribed 10 magnitudes By 'extension' we mean whatever has length, breadth aod depth,
in general which cannot al~o be ascribed co any species of magnitude. leaving a~ide the question whether it is a real body or merely a space.
11 is easy to conclude from this tha1 it will be very useful if we transfer This notion does not, I think, need any further elucidation, for there is
wh at we understand to hold for magnitudes in general 10 that species of no1hing more easily perceived by our imagination. Of course the learned
magn itude which is most readily and distinctly depicted in o ur imagina- often employ distinciio ns so subtle that they disperse the natural light,
tion. Bur it follows from what we sa id in Rule Twelve' 1ha1 1his species is and they detect obscmiti cs even in matters which arc perfectly clear 10
the real extensio n of a body considered in abstraction from everything peasants. So we must point o ut co such people that by the term
else about it save it~ having a )nape. In that Ruic we conceived of the 'extension' we do not mean here something distinct and separate from
imagination, along with the ideas existing in it, as being nothing the subject itse lf, and that we generally do nor recognize phi losophical
but a real body wirn n rea l cxtemion and shape. Thar indeed is entities of the sore char a re not genuinely imaginable. For although
self-evident, since no other subject displays more distinctly all the various so meone may convince himself thar it is not self-contrndicror)' for 44 3
differences in propo rtio ns. One thing can of course be said to be more or exrension per se 10 exist all on its own even if everything extended in the
less white than nnorhcr, one sound more or less sha rp than another, and universe w e (C an nihilated, he would not be employing a co rporea l idea in
so on; but we ca nnot dcrcrmine exact ly whether the greate r exceeds cl1e conceivi ng chi s, but me rely an incorrect judgement of the inrell:ct alone.
lesser by a ratio of l. 10 1 or 3 to 1 unless we have recourse to a certain He will ad mit this himself if he carefull y reflects on the image of
analogy with the extension of a body that has shape. Let us tben take it as extensio n which he tries to forin in his imagination. He will rea lize that
firmly scnlcd th at perfectl y determinate problems present hardly any he docs not perceive it in isolation from every subject, and that his
difficul1y at all, save 1hac of expressing proportions in the form of imagination of it is quire different from his judgement about it. Conse-
equalities, and also 1hac everything in which we encounter just this quently, whatever our imcllcct believes about che truth of the matter,
difficulty ca n easi ly be, and ough1 10 be, separated from every other these abstract entities are never formed in the imagination in isolation
subject and then expressed in 1erms of extension and figures. According- from subjccrs.
ly, we shall di~miss everything else from our thoughts and deal exclusive- Bui since henceforth we shall nor be undertaking anything wi1ho1111 ht
ly wi1h 1hese un1il we reach Ruic Twenty-five. aid of the imagi nation, it will be worthwhile to distinguish cardully 1hm1
H l. At rhis poim we should be deligh ted to come upon a reader favourably ideas by means of wl11ch the individual meanings of o ur" '""' .U to ht
disposed towards arithmetic and gL-ometry, though I would rather that he conveyed 10 our intellect. To this end we suggest for com11lu .111on the
had not yec embarked upon these studies than that he had been taught following three ways of talking: ' Extension occup1c' .t pl.1,f', 'l\od}
them in the usual manner. For the Rules which I am about to expound posscsse> extension-, and 'Exren~ion is not bod) '.
are much more readily employed in the study of these sciences (where Tite fir~l >Cntcncc shows how 'extension mar hc 1.1~tn to 111<.111 'tha1
they are all that is needed) than m any other sore of problem. Moreover, which i~ extended-. Whc1hcr I say 'Extension "'' "l'lf' .1 pl.>H' or That
which i~ extended occupie~ a pla~-c, my connpuun "d irh ihc "1mc in
I 5ff 3bovC, pp. 4o{, 4} ' c.1d1 c.1'c. 11111 11 doc' nut follow 1h.1t ll i' hclln to 11 1ht <'~(HC\'10n,
60 Rules for the Direction of the Mind Rule Fourteen

'chat which is extended', for the sake of avoiding ambiguity, for che lancr etc. All these and similar propositions should be removed completely
expression would not con,.ey so distinclly what we are conceiving, viz. from the imagination if they are to be true. Thar is why we shall nm be
1hat some subject occupies a place in vircue of its being extended. The concerned with them in what follows.
sentence could be taken to mean simply 'That which is exrended is a We must carefully note the following point with respect to :ill other
subject occupying a place', with a sense similar co that of the state propositions in which these terms retain the S<1me meaning and arc used
ment 'That which is animate occupies a place.' It is for this reason that in abstraction from subjects, yet do not exclude or deny anything which
we sa id that here we would be concerned with extension rather than with is not really di stinct from what they denote: in these cases we can and
that which is extended, even though we think that there ought to be no should employ the terms with the he lp of the imagination. For, even if the
difference in conception between extension and that which is extended. intellect attends solely and precisely co what the word denotes, the
444 Lee us now proceed to the sentence, 'Body possesses extension.' Here imagination nonerhcless oughr to form a real idea of the thing, so that the
we un derstand tbe term 'extension' co denote someth ing ocher than intellect, when requ ired, can be directed rewards che other features of the
'body'; yet we do nor form cwo discincc ideas in our imagin ation, thi ng which are not conveyed by the term in question, and so that it may
one of extension, the other of body, bur just the single idea of never inj udiciously take these features to be excluded. Thus, when che
extended body. So far as the face of che matter is concerned I might just as problem concerns number, we imagine some subject which is measurable
well have said 'Body is extended', or beuer sci II 'That which is extended is in terms of a sec of unirs. The intellect of course may for the momem
extended.' This is a peculiaricy of those ent ities which exist only in confine irs arcenrion ro this sci; nevertheless we must see 10 it thar, in
somcthtng else, and which can never be conceived apart from a subjec1. doing so, it does not draw a conclusion which impl ies that the rhmg
Bue when it comes to enriries which are really distinguishable from chcir numbered has been excluded from ou r conception. Those who anributc
subjects, the sicuarion is quite different. If, for example, I were to say wonderful and mysterious properties ro numbers do just that. They 446
'Peter has wealth', my idea of Peter would be quite different from my idea would surely not believe so firmly m such sheer nonsense, if they did not
of wcalch. Again, if I said 'Paul is wealthy', the contcnc of my imagination think tha t number is something distinct from things numbered. Likewise,
wou ld be entirely different from whar it would be if I said 'The wealthy when we a re concerned with a figure, we should bear in mind char we are
man is wealthy.' Many fail co recognize rhis difference and make the dealing with an extended ~ubject, conceived simply with respect to its
mistake of thinking that extension contains so methi ng distinct from rhat havi ng a shape. When we are co ncerned with a body, we should bear in
which is exten ded, in the same way as Pau l's wealth is disrinct from Paul. mind that iris the sa me thing we arc dea ling wi th , in that it is something
Finally, rake the sentence, 'Extension is noc body.' The term 'exten- which bas length, breadth and deptb. In the case of a surface, we should
sion' here is understood in a sense quite different from the one above: conceive of the same thing, as being something wich length and breadth -
in this sense there is no specific idea corresponding to it in rhe chis time leaving out depth, though nor denying ir. In the case of a line, let
imagination. In fact this expression is entirely the work of the pure us chink of it as having just length; and in the case of a point, the same
intellect: it alone has the ability to distinguish between abstract enrities of will apply, though this time we should leave out every ocher property
chis sort. This is a source of error for many who, not realizing chac save its being an entity.
extension taken in this sense cannot be grasped by the imagination, Although I am explaining these poinrs ar some length here, the
represent it by means of a real idea. Now )Uch an idea necessarily minds of mortals are so prejudiced that very few, I fear, are in no danger
invoh cs the concept of body. So if they say that extension so conceived is of losing their way in this area, and most will find that my long discmmc
445 nor body, they are unwiningly ensnared into say ing '"lhc same rhing is at gives too brief an account of my meaning. Even a1ithmetic and geometry
once body and not body.' It is very important to distinguish utterances in lead us astray here in spite of their being the most certain of all the am.
wh ich such terms as 'ex tension', 'shape', 'nllmber', 'surface', 'line', For does not every ari1hmc1icitm think rhat numbers are abstracted from
'point', 'unity', etc. are given such a narrow sense that they exclude every subject by means of the intellect and rhat chey are even w l>e real ly
something which is not really distinct from what they signify, as for distingui shed from e'ery subject by means of the imagination? ls there a
example in the statements: 'Exrension or shape is not body', 'A nu mber is geometer who does nor muddy rhc manifest clarity of hi s subjccr-macccr
not the thi ng numbered', 'A surface is the limit of a body', 'A line is the by employing inconsistent principles? The geometer judges thar lines
li111i1 of a su rface', 'A point is the limit of a line', ~Unity is oot a quantity', h.1ve no breadth, surfaces no depth, yet he goes on to construct the one
62. Rules for rhe Direction of the Mi11d R11/e Fourteen

from the other, not realizing th at a line, whose flowing motion he whc1hcr they have a real basis in the objects themselves or arc arbitrary
conceives as crea ting a su rface, is a real body, whereas that which Jacks inven tions of our mind. The weight of a body is something real; so 100 i~
breadth is simply a mode of body. But in order not to prolong our the speed of a motion, or the divis ion ol a century inro years and days;
account of these matters, it will save time if we explain how we are bur the division of rhe day into hours and minutes is nor. Yet these all
H7 supposing our objcc1 is 10 be conceived, our aim being to provide the function in the same way from the point of view simply of dimension,
easiest possible demonstration of such rruih as may be found in which is how they ought to be viewed here and in the mathematical
arithmetic and gcomcrry. disciplines. Whether d imensions have a real basis is something for the
In this context, rhen, we are concerned with an extended object, physiciscs to con~idcr.
rhinking of 11 exclusiely in terms of its cxrcnsion, and deliberately Recogni tion of this fact throws much light on geometry, for in that
refraining from using the 1um 'quantity'; for there are some philosophers discipline almost everyone misconceives the three species of quantity: rhe
so subtle that they have ccn d istinguished quantity from exrension. We line, the surf.ice and the solid. We have already pointed our that the line
arc assuming that every problem has been reduced to the point where our and the surface are not conceived as being really distinct from the solid or 449
sole concern is to discover a certain extension on the basis of a from one anorher. Indeed, if they are thought of without respect t0
comparison with some other extension which we already know. For in anything else, as abstractions of the intellect, then they are no more
rhis contexr we arc no1 expecting to obrnin knowledge of any new entity; different species o f quantity than 'animal' and 'l iving' in man arc different
our intention, rather, is simply to reduce the proportions, however species of substances. We should note incidemally chat there is merely a
complicated, to the point where we can discover some equality bcrwecn nominal difference berwccn the three dimensions of body - lengrh,
rhat whi ch is unknown and something known. Thus it is certain that breadth and depth; for in any given soli d it is quire immaterial which
whatever differences of proportion obtain in other subjeccs, chc same aspect of its extension we take as its length, which as its breadch, etc.
differences can :ilso be found to hold between two or more exrensions. Although these three dimensions have a real basis at any rate in every
Hence it is enough for our purposes if we consider all rhe characteristics extended thing simply qua extended, we arc no more concerned with
of extension itself which may assist us in elucidating differences in chem here than wirh countless others which are either intellec111al fictions
proporrion. There are only three such charac1eriscics, viz. dimension, or have sornc other basis in things. Thus in the case of a triangle, if we
unicy and shape. wish co measure ir exactly, there are three real aspects of it which we need
B)' 'dimension' we mean simply a mode or aspect in respect of which to know, viz. its three sides, or two sides and one angle, or two angles
some subject is considered 10 be mensurable. 111us lengtl1, breadth and and its area. Again, in the case of a trapeziu m there a re five factors we
depth are no1 the only dimensions of a body: weight roo is a dimension - need 10 know; in the ca~c of a teHahedron, six, etc. 111ese ca n all be
the dimension in terms of which objects are weighed. Speed is a termed 'dimensions'. Bur if we are to select those di mensions which will
dimension - rhc dimension of motion; and there are countless other be of chc greaces1 assistance to our imagination, we should never attend
H8 instances of this sort. For exam ple, division inco several equal parts, 10 more than one or two of them as depicted in our imagination,
whether it be a real o r merely inrellecrual division is, strictly speaking, the even rhough we are wel l aware thar there is an indefinite number
dimension in ccrms of which we count things. The mode which gives rise involved in rhe problem at issue. Jr is pare of the method to distinguish a~
to number is srricrly speaking a species of dimension, though there is many dimensions as possible, so thar, while attending to as few a\
some difference berween the meanings of the rwo terms. If we consider possible at rhe same time, we nevertheless proceed to take in all of them
the order of rhe parts in relation to the whole, we are then said tO be one by one.
counting; if on the other hand we regard rhc whole as being divided up Uniry is the com mon nature which, we said above,1 all the things
inro parts, we are measuring ir. For example, we measure centuries in which we arc comparing must participate in equally. If no determinate
terms ol years, days, hours, minutes; if on the orher hand we count unit is specified in rhe problem, we may adopt as unit eirher one of the 45 0
minutes, hours, days and years, we end up with centuries. magnitudes already gien or any other magnitude, and this will be the
It is dear from this that there can be countless different dimensions common measure o f all rhc others. We shall regard it as having as many
within rhe same subject, rhat these add absolutely nothing 10 rhe rhings
which possess them, and rhat they are understood in the same way 1 Sec obov, pp. 51f.

'
Rules for the Direction of the Mi11d R11/e Fifteen
d imensions as the extreme rerms which are to be compared. We shall relations of this kind the parts arc related ro one another with respect to
conceil'e of it either simply as something extended, absrracring ir from themselves alone and not by way of an inrermediary third term, as is the
everything else - in which case it will be the same as a geometrical point case with measu res, whi ch it is our sole concern to explicate here. I ca n
(the movement of whi ch makes up a line, according ro rhe geometers), or recognize what t he o rder between A and B is without co11sidering
as some sort of line, o r as a sq uare. anything over and above these two terms. Bur I ca~not get to knm~ what
As for fig ures, we huvc alread y shown how ideas of all th ings can be the pro portion of magnitude between i. and 3 1s without co11s1dc nng
formed by means of these alone. We have still to point out in this conrext some third term, viz. the unit wh ich is 1he common measure of both.
that, of the innumerab le d ifferem species of figure, we are to use here Again , we should realize that, with the aid of th~ unit we hav~ adopted, 45 2.
only those which most readily express all the various relations o r it is sometimes possible completely to reduce continuous magmtudcs to a
proportions. There arc bur cwo kinds of things which are compared with set and that this can always be done partially at lease. The set of units can
each other: sets 1 and magnirudes. We also ha"c two kinds of figures then be arranged in such an order that the difficulty involved in
which we may use to represent these conceptu ally: for example, the discerning a measure becomes simply one of scrutiniiing the order. The
poinrs, greatest advanrage of mu method lies in this progressive orderin~.
T he final point we should bear in mind is thar among the d1mens1ons of
a continuo us magn irude none is more disrincrly conceived than length
and breadt h, and if we are to co mpare two different things with each
other, we sho uld nor attend at the s,1me time ro more than these rwo
dimensions in any given figure. For when we have more than two
different things to compare, our merhod demands that we survey them
one by one and concentrate on no more than two of them at ~nee.
which represent a triangular number; 2 or the diagram which represents It is easy to see what conclusions follow from these obSC:rvauons. We
someone's family tree, have as much reason to abstract propositions from gcomemcal figures, 1f
the problem has to do with these, as we have from any _other subject-
Father
matter. n 1e o nly figures that we need to reserve for this purpose are
rectil inear and rccrnngula r surfaces, or straight lines, which we also ca ll
figure~, because, as we said abol'e, 1 these arc just as good as surfaces 111
Son Daughter assisting us to imagine an object that is really exre.nded. Lastly'. these
same figures muse serve to represent sometimes continuous magmtud.es,
451 Figures such as these represent secs; while those which are continuo us sometimes a set o r a number. To find a simpler way of express111g
and unbroken, such as /::;, 0 etc., illustrate magnitudes. differences in relation would be beyond rhe bounds of human endeavour.
Moreover, if we are to explain which <?fall the avai lable figures we are
going to make use of here, we should know that all the relations which Rule Fifteen 4 Sl
may possibly obtain between entities of the sa me kind should be placed
under one o r o ther of two ca tegories, viz. o rder or measure.
It is generally help(ttl if we draw rhese figures and display them beforr
We must k now, furthermo re, that to work out :m order is oo mean
o1ir extemal senses. fa this way it will be easier for tis to keep our 111111d
feat, as our method m akes dear throughout, tha t being virtually its entire alert.
message. But there is no difficulry whatever in recognizing an order once lf we wish to form more distinct images of these figures in our
we have come upon one. By following Rul e Seven we can easi ly survey in imagination with the aid of a visual display, then it is self-cv!d~nt how
o ur mind the individ ual pans which we have ordered, because in they should be drawn. For example, we shall depict the unit 111 three
1 I 1t. muh1rudcs (mullr'tJtdmt$) ,
ways, viz. by means of a square, 0, if we think of it only as having length
i. Triangular numbers 31e those which, lik~ 31 6, 10, 1 s ctc. 1 can be arranged in the form or and breadth; by a line , - , if we rega rd it as having just length; or, lastl y,
a rriangle when e)(prcssed M n set o f points. , See pp. 6if.
66 Rules for the Directio11 of the Mind R11/e Sixteen

by a point,. , if we view it as the clement which goes to make up a ser. Bur dimensions which it is possible to depict in che imaginatio n. Ir is 1here-
however II is depicted and conceived, we shall always understand the unir fore important to retain all the ochers in such a way th at they readily
to be 111 every sense an extended subject :ind one susceptible of councless come co mind whenever we need to recall them. It seems that memory has
dimensions. The same goes for the terms of the proposition at issue: if we been ordained by natu re for this very purpose. But because memory is
have to attend >imultaneously to two different magnimdes belonging 10 often unreliable, and in order not to have to squander one jot of o ur
the terms, we shall display them visually 3> a rectangle, two sides of attention on refreshing it while engaged with other thoughts, h uman
whi ch will be rhc two magnitudes in question. If they are incommensur- ingenuity has given us that happy invention - rhe practice of writing.
able with the unit, we shall represent them thus: Relying on this as an aid, we shall leave absolutely nothing ro memory 455
bur put down on pa per whatever we have to retain, thus allowing the
imagination to devo1e itself freely and completely to the ideas immcdiarc-
ly before it. We sha ll do chis by means of very concise symbo ls, so that
after scrutinizing each item (in accordance wich Rule Nine), we may be
If commensurable, thus: able (in accordance w ith Ruic Ele"en) to run thro ugh all of them wi th the
swiftest sweep of thought and intuit as many as possible at the same rime.

I I I I,, .h,,, 111erefore, whatever is to be viewed as o ne thing from rhe point of view
of the problem we shall represent by a unique symbol, which can be
formed in any W3)' we hkc. But for the sake of convenience, we shall
employ the leners a, b, c, ere. to express magnitudes alre:tdy known, and
Nothing more is needed, except where the problem concerns a set of A, B, C, etc_for ones that arc unknown. To these we shall often prefix the
454 units. If, lastly, we are dea ling with just one of the magnitudes of the numerals, 1, 2, 3, 4, ere. to indicate how many of them there are; again,
terms, we shall draw a line either in the form of a rectangle, one side of we shall also append these as suffixes to indicate the number of the
wh ich is the magnitude in q uestion and another is the unit, th us: relations which they arc to be under.mod to contain. Thus if I write '1a 1',
that will mean 'twice 1hc magnitude symbolized by rhe letter " wh ich
contains three relations'. With this device we shall nor just be cconomi z
ing with words but, and thi s is the important point, we shall also be
(th is is what we do when tbc same li ne is to be compared with some displayi ng the terms of the problem in such a pure a nd naked liglu that,
su rface); or simply in the fo rm of a length , 1hus, - - -,if we view it while nothing usefu l wi ll be omitted, nothing superfluous will be
simply as an incommensurable length; or thus, ..... , if it is a set. 1 included - norhing, that is, which might needlessly occupy o ur mental
powers when our mind is having to rake in many things at o nce.
Rule Sixteen For a clearer undemanding of these poi nts, we should note fiN
As for t'1i11gs which do not require the immediate attent i011 of the m ind, that arithmeticians usually re present individual magnitudes by mean' of
ho1vever necessary they may be for the co11c/11s1011, it is better to represent several units or by some number, whereas in this context we .m
them by very concise symbols rather than by complete fig11res. It will thus abstracting just as much from numbers as we did from i:co111<1m.1I
be impossible for 011r memory to go wrong, and 011r mind will not be figures a little while back 1 - or from any matter whate\ er. WI' du lhl\, 4 ~t.
distracted by having to retain these while it is 1ake11 up with deducing both to avoid the cedium of lo ng and unnecessary calcul.H1oi1 .11111, 111 0,1
otber matrers. importantly, co see that rhe parts of the subject rclcv.1111 10 1lw 11.nurt of
the problem a rc kcpc separate ar all times and arc nnl hu1:flnl cl uw11 wi1h
Mo reover, as we said, 1 we should nor co ntemplate, in one and the same pointless n umetica l expressions. nn1s if Lhc pr11bll'111 " w fi nd 1hc
\isua l o r menta l gaze, more rhan rwo of the innumerab le different
h ypotenu se of a right -:inglcd crianr;lc whow ' " "'' .11 t " .111d 1 i, 1hc
1 The cransbcion .of this sentet1ce adh( rcs to rhi: text of A and 1-1 (following Crapulli}. AT arithmetician will say 1h:11 il i' Vu~ or 1~- \'ih "'' 1111' odwr hand wi ll
emend 111~ lt: Xl m $Ucha war chat che phr.:i~ 'drnw n linc' bttomcs 'draw it' and "wht-n
the same line' becomes "when it'. '
1 Sec above, p. 65 . , \tC' nbmc" 11 h'
68 Rules for the Directiot1 of the Mind R11le Sixteen

substitute a and b for 9 and 12, and will find the hypotenuse to be might provide us with a simpler solution. For exa mple, once we have
\/a1 +b2, which keeps di stinct the two pans al and b 2 which the seen that the hypotenuse of a right-angled triangle wit h sides a and /J is
numerical expression conflates. Va1 +b 2 , we should substitute 81 for a 2 and 144 for b2, the addition of
We should note also that those proportions which form a co ntinuing which gives us :i.25. The root of 2 2 5, or the mean proportiona l berween
sequence are to be understood in terms of a number of relations; others the unit and 2.25, is r5. We shall see from this that tbe length of the
endeavour to exp ress these proportions in ordinary algebraic terms by hypotenuse, 15, is commensurable with th e lengths of the other sides, 9
means of many dimensions and figures. Tiie first of these they call 'the and n; we shall not generally recognize this from the fact that it is rhe
root', the second 'the square', the third ' the cube', the fourth 'the square hypotenuse of a right-angled triangle, two sides of which are in the ratio
of the square'. I confess that I have for a long t ime been misled by these of 3 to 4. We insist on these distinctions, seeking as we do a knowledge of
expressions. For, after the line and the square, noth ing, it seemed, co uld things tha t is evident and distinct. The arithmeticians, however, make no
be represented more dearly in my imagination than the cube and other such distinctions: they are quite content if the sum they are seeking comes
figures modelled o n these. Admittedly, I was able to so lve many a to light, even though they have no idea how it depends on the data; yet
problem with the help of these. But through long experience I came to that, quite simply, is what knowledge' strictly speaking consists in.
realize that by conceiving things in this way I had never discovered But in general we should bear in mind th at if we can set it down on
anythi ng wh ich I could not have found much mo re easily and distinctly paper, we need never commit to me111ory anything that does not
without it. I rea lized that such terminology was a sou rce of conceptual demand our constant attention; otherwise a part of our mind may be
confusion and ought to be abandoned completely. For a given magni- distracted by needless recollection fro111 its awareness of the object before
tude, even though it is ca lled a cube or the square of the squa re, shou ld it. We ought ro write down a list of the terms ol the problem as they were
never be represented in the imagination otherwise than as a lin e or a stated in t he first place; then we shollld note down rhe way in which they
457 surface, in accordance with the preceding Rule. So we must note above may be abstracted, and the sy111bols we might use ro represent them. T he
all that the root, the sq uare, t he cube, etc. are nothing but 111agnitudes in purpose of this is thar once we have found the solution in terms of t hese
continued proportion which, it is always supposed, are preceded by the symbols, we shall be able to apply it easily to 1hc particular subject we arc
arbitrary unit mentioned above.' lhe first proportional is related to this dealing with, witho ut having recourse to me111ory. For we always
un it immediately and by a single relation; the second proportional is abstract something more general from something less general. So I shall
related to it by way of the first proportional, and hence by way of two write down the problem in the following way :
relations; the t hird proportional by way of the first and th e second, and A
so by way of three relations, etc.2 From now on, then, the magnitude
referred to in algebra as 'the roo t' we shall term 'the fi rst proportional';
the magnit ude referred to as 'the square' we shall ca ll ' the second 9 15
proportional', and the same goes for the other cases.
Finall y, we must note that, even though we are abstracting the ter111s of
a problem from certain numbers in order to investigate its nat ure, yet it B'-------~ c
often tLt rns out that the problem can be solved in a simpler way by 12
employing the given numbers than by abstracting from them. Th is is d ue The question being to find the hypotenuse, AC, of the righ t-angled
to the d ual function which num bers have, which is, as we have alrcad)' triangle ABC, I fim make an abstraction of the problem, so that the
mentioned,3 sometimes to express order, someti mes measure. Acco rding-
ly, once we have investigated the prob lem expressed in general terms, we
should re-express it in terms of given nu111bers, to see whether these
i question becomes the general one of finding the magnitude of the
hypotenuse from the magnitudes of rbe other sides. I th en su bstitute a for
AB, wh ich is 9, and b for BC, which is 1 2 ; and so on in other cases.
1 Cf. above pp. 6J ff. We should point out that further use wi ll be made of these latter four 459
i. qescartes' idea here is ro express, for c:xamplt. chc series, a, aZ, al, ere. as J. x a, ax a, Rules in the third part of the treatise, though they will be taken in a
a x a, ere.
; See aoo,'<, p. 64. 1 L;.H. scientia; sec footnote on p. LO above.
70 Rules for the Direction of the Mind Rule Eighteen 7I

somewhac broader sense th an chey ha"e been given in the present complicated questions where the problem is to discern, albeit in a
exposition. But all this will be made clear in due course. complicated order, certain intermediate propositions, on the basis of our
knowledge of the first and last propositions in the series. So the trick here
Rule Seventeen is to treat the unknown ones as if they were known. This may enab le us
to adopt the easy and direct' method of inquiry even in the most
We should make a direct survey of the problem to be solved, disregarding
complicated of problems. "fbe re is no reason why we should not always
the fact that some of its terms are knoum and others unknow11, and
do this, since from the outset of this pare of the treatise' our assumption
intuiting, throt1gh a trai11 of sound reaso11i1tg, the dependence of 011e term
has been that we know that the unknown terms in the problem a re so 46 1
011 another.
dependent on rhe known ones that th ey are wholly decermined by the m.
The preceding four Rules have shown us how to a bstract determina te Accordingly, we shall be carrying out everything th is Rule prescribes if,
and perfectly understood problems from parricular subjects and to recognizing that rhe unknown is determined by the known, we reflect o n
reduce them w the point where the question becomes simply one of the terms which occur to us fjrst and count the unknown ones among the
discovering certain magnitudes on the basis of the fact that they bear known, so that by reasoning soundly step by step we may deduce from
such and such a relation to certain given magnitudes. Now in the these all the rest, even the known terms as if they are unknown. We shall
following live Rules we shall explain the method of dealing with rbese postpone illustrating this point (a nd most of the points to be dealt with
difficulties, so that no matter how many unknown magnitudes there a re below) until Rule Twenty-four: 2 it will be more convenient to expound
in a single proposition they can all be arranged in a serial order: the first them there.
will stand to t he unit as che second to the first, and the third to the second
as the fourth to rhe third, and so o n in due sequence. Thus no matter how Rule Eighteen
many of them there are, they will yield a sum equal to some known
For this purpose only four operations are required: addition, subtraction,
magnitude. So reliable is our method of doing chis that we may safely
tntiltiplication and division. The latter two operations should seldom be
assert that, however strenuous our efforts, it would be impossible to
employed here, for they may lead to needless complication, and they ca11
reduce the magnitudes to simpler terms.
be carried out more easily later.
For the present, however, we should note that in every problem to be
460 solved through deduction there is a way of passing from o ne term to A large number of rules is often the result of inexperience in the teacher.
another that is plain and direct: it is the easies t way of all, the others Things are much clearer when they are brought under one si ngle general
being more difficult and round-about. In order to understand this point precept rather than split up among many particular ones. For this reason
we must remember what was said in Rule Eleven, where we explained the we are bringing under just four heads all the operations needed for
nature of that sequence of interlinked propositions wh ich enabled us to working out a problem, i.e. for deducing some magnitudes from others.
see easily, ' when comparing individual propositions, bow the fi rst and How it is that these are all we need will become clearer from our account
the last ones are interrelated, even if we cannot deduce the intermediate of them.
ones so easily from the fi rst and last ones. Now if, in order to deduce the When we come to know one magnitude on the basis of o ur prior 462.
way in which the last one depends on t he first, we intuit the interdepend- knowledge of the parts which make it up, the process is one of addit ion.
ence between the individual propositions without ever interrupting the When we discover a parr on the basis of our prior knowledge of the
order, we are going through the problem in a direct way. If on the other whole and the extent to whi.ch the whole exceeds the pare, t he procc;s b
hand we know the first and last propositions to be interconnected in a one of subtraction: there is no other possible way of dcri,in g one
definite way, and we wish to deduce from tbis the intermediate ones magnitude from other magnitudes, taken in an absolute sense, which
connecting them, the order we follow will be completely indirect a nd the somehow contain it . But if we are to derive some magnitude from others
reverse of t he previous one. 2 Now we are concerned here only with which arc quite different from it and which in no way contain it, it is

1 I.e. from Rule Thirteen.


1 See above, pp. 37{. Cf. above, pp. 4, 38. 1 nlC Rules in foci end :it Rule Twenry--011e; see Translator's pi:efoct\ p. 7 abo\le,
R11/es for rhc Direction of the Mind Rule Eighteen 73

necessary to find some way of relating it to them. If this relation or (e.g. :i.5)', or 'Extract the cube root of a3 (e.g. 1 i.5)' - and sim ilarly in the
conneciion is 10 be made in a direct way, then we must use other cases. Al1ematively, the problems may be couched in geometrica l
mu ltiplication; if in an indirect way, then dil'ision. terms: it amoun1s to the same thing whe1her we say 'Find the mean
In order to give a clear account of the Latter two operations, we must proporrional between the arbitrary magnitude called "the unit" and that
be apprised of the fact that the unit, which we have spoken about earlier, 1 denoted by the expression a!', or 'Find rwo mean proportionals between
is here the basis and foundation of all the relations, and occupies rhe first the unit and a 1', etc.
place in a series of magnitudes which are in cominued proportion. The From 1hesc considerations it is easy ro sec how these two operations
given magnitudes occupy the second place in the series, while those to be are all we need for the purpo~e of discovering whatever magnitudes we
discovered occupy the third, fourth, and the remaining places, if the are required lo deduce from others on the basis of some relation. Once
problem in question2 is a direct one. If, however, the problem is an we have undersiood these operations, the next thing to do is to explain
indirect one, the given magnitude come:. la~t, and the magnitude sought how 10 prescm them ro the imagination for examination, and how to
comes in the second place or in other intermediate places. display 1hem visually, Ml that later on we may explain their uses or
46 3 Thus if we are told that as the unit ~tands to a given magnitude a applicarions.
(5, say), so b (7, say) stands to the number we are seeking, which is ab If addition or subiraction is to be used, we conceive the subject in rhe
(i .e. 35 ), then a and b occupy the second place, and their product, ab, form of a line, or in the form of an extended magnitude in which length
comes in the third place. 1 Again, if we are told that as the unit is to c (e.g. alonc 1 is to be considered. For if we are to add line a to line b,
9), so ab (e.g. 35) is to the number sought, abc (i.e. 315), then abc a b
occupies the fourth place, and is the product of the two multiplications
with rcspccc to ab, and c, which occupy the second place; the same ho lds
for other cases. Again, as the unit is to a (i.e. 5), so a is to a 1 (i.e. 25); we ndd the one to t he other, in the followi ng way,
likewise as the unit is to a (i.e. 5), so al (i.e. 25) is co ll"l (i.e. u5); and a b
lastly as the uni t is to a (i.e. 5), so a 3 (i.e. 125) is to a4 (i.e. 62 5), etc. For
whether a magni tude is multiplied by itself or by a quite different
magnitude, the process of multiplication is the same. and the result is c:
If, however, we arc told that as the unit is to a given divisor, a (e.g. 5),
so the magnitude we are seeking, B (e.g. 7) is to the given dividend, ab
(i.e. 35), then the order is confused a nd indirect,5 for B can be obtained Bue if 1hc smaller magnitude is 10 be taken away from rhc larger, viz. b
only by dividing the datum ab by the datum a. The case is the same if the 4 65
from a,
statement is that as rhe unit is to A (e.g. 5), the number sought, so A is to
the datum , a1 (i.e. z.5); or as the unit is to A (5), the number sough t, so is b a
A1 (2.5} m the darum, a l (i.e. 1 z.5). And the same is crue in other cases. "Jnese
examples are all included under the term 'division', altbough we should we pince the one above the other thus:
note rhat the laner two instances of division are more difficult than the
former, smce 1hcrc arc more occurrences of the magnitude sought, which b
therefore involves a greater number of rclarions. The significance of the
lauer examples would be !he same i( we were to employ expressions a
464 commonly used by arilhmet icians, such as, 'E.xtract the square rooc of a1 and 1his will give us tha1 scgrncm of 1he larger one which rhe smaller one
cannot CO\ICr, viz..,
Cl. bovr pp. '), '8.
1 Reading pn>pos1110, A, H. AT unn<Ss.mly n~nd to proportio ('proportion'). c 1--------t
3Ti><lormulhm:os1/aa/x. 4 Thelor.mulahrtt1Silc=ab/:c.
S HC"nctforth l)tjjcancs usn elp1tal lrttcu to denote the unknown ma.gnitudc.s~ See abo,c, Hrad111~ 111 ,,.,,1 '"'" 11 (follo.,ing Crpulli'. AT read iR qua ;ol.i. A, 'in which rhing
p. 67. .llont'
74 Rules for the Direction of tbe Mind Rule Eightee11 75

In multiplication we also conceive the given magnitudes in chc form of Lastly, in division, where the divisor is given, we imagine the magni-
lines; though in this case we imagine them as forming a rectangle. For i ( tude to be divided as being a rectangle, one side of which is the divisor
we multiply a by b, and the other the quotient. Thus if the rectangle ab is to be divided by a,
a b a

we fit one line at right angles to the other, thus: a


a

to make the rectangle:


1 a
we take away from it the breadth a, and are left with bas the quorienr:

If, on rhe ocher hand, we divide t he same rectangle by b, we take away 467
the height b, and rhe quotienr will be a:

466
ffi]
Again, if we wish to multiply ab by c,
a

As for those divisions in which the divisor is not given but only
indicated by some relation, as when we are required to extract the square
root or the cube root ere., in these cases we must note that the term to be
divided, and all rhe other term~, arc always to be conceived as lines which
c form a series of continued proportiona ls, the first me111ber of which is the
unit, and t he last tbe magnitude tO be divided.' \Y/e shall explain in due
course how w find any number of mean proponionals between rhe latter
we ought to conceive ab as a line, viz., two magnitudes. For th e moment we must be content to poi1n ou r that
ab we are assuming that we have not yet quite done with these operations,
since in order to be performed they require indirect and reverse move
in order to obtain for abc the following figure: mems of the i111aginarion, and at present we are dealing only wi th
problems which are 10 be treated in the direct manner.
ab
As for the other operations, we can easily dispose o( these i( \W
co11ceive them along the lines recommended above. But we have 1t1ll 10
sbow how their 1crms are iniually co be set out. For al1hough, on fiN
dealing with a problem, we are free 10 conceive of its terms as 1f they were
lines or rectangles, without assigning any other figures co chem (as stated
c l----+--l----+---1----+-----I in Rule Fourtcen),2 nevertheless in the course of the operation it
frequently turns out t hat a rcccnngle, wh ich has been prod uced by the 468
multiplication of two lines, has to be co nceived as a line, for rhe sake of
so111e forcher operation. Or again, the same rectangle, or a line resul ting

I Cf. al>01< pp. 71(.


0 1 er. above, p. 6 J.
Rules for the Direction of the Mind 77

from a n addition or subtraction, has to be conceived as a different Appendix


rectangle drawn above the line which has been designated as its d iviso r.
It is therefore important to explain here how every rectangle ca n be
transformed into a line, a nd conversely how a line or even a rectangle can
be transformed into a nother rectangle, one side of wh ich is specified.
Geometers can do t h is very easily, provided they recognize that in [ rhe extract which follows is from the second edition of Antoine Arnauld
comparing li nes wi th some recta ngle (as we are now doing), we always and Pierre Nicole's Logic or the Art o{Thi11ki11g (1664) . 1 It is known that
conceive the li nes as rectangles, one side of wh ich is the length which we the authors made use of Desca rtes' Rules w hen preparing the second
adopted as our unit. In this way, the entire business is reduced to the edition of cheir work. In chapter 2. of part 4 they provide a loose
following problem: given a rectangle, to construct upon a g iven side paraphrase of t he latter part of Rule T hirteen. 2 The paraphrase contains
another rectangle equal to it. an add itional passage which occupies a place corresponding to a lacuna
T he meres t beginner in geometry is of course per fectly familiar with in Rule Thirteen, and it may poss ibly be a paraphrase of some of the
this; nevertheless I want to make the point, in case it should seem that l missing material.)
have omitted something. ATX
Proble ms concerning things can be red uced ro four ma in sorts. 471
Rule Nineteen In the first sore of prob lem causes are sought by way of effects. We
Using this method of reasoni11g, we must try to find as many magnitudes, know, for example, che various effects of che magnet, and we try to find
expressed in two different ways, as there are unknown terms, which we the causes of these effects . We know chc various effects which are usually
treat as known in order to work out the problem i" the direct way. That attributed to nature's abhorrence of a vacuum; we inqu ire whether the
will give us as numy comparisons betwee11 two equal terms. 1 latter is the true cause of these effects, a nd have discovered rhat it is not. 3
We arc familiar w ith the ebb and flow of the tide, and we want to know
469 Rule Twenty what can cause such a great and cegular movement.
In the second sore of problem we try to discover effects by way of
Once we have found the equations, we must carry out the operations causes. It has always been known, for examp le, that wind and wacer can
which we have left aside, 2 1iever using multiplicatio11 when division is in move bodies wirh grea t force; but the a ncients did not sufficiently
order. investigate what the effects of these causes could be, and so did not apply
them, as they haw since been applied in mills, ro many th ings which arc
Rule Twenty-one very usefu l co h uman society and notably ease the burden of human
If there are many equations of this sort, they should all be reduced to a labour, and which ought t0 be the harvcs[ of true physics. Conseqllently
single one, vii. to the equation whose terms occupy fewer places in the we can say that the first sort of problem, in which causes are sought by 471
series of magnitudes which are in continued proportion, i.e. the series in way of their effects, constitutes the entire speculati ve side of physics ,
which the order of the terms is to be arranged. while the second so rt o f problem, in which effects are sought by way of
causes, constitutes the entire p ractical side.
In the third sort of problem a who le is sough t by way of its parts, as for
exatnple when we cry to fi11d t he su m of several numbers by adding them
together, o r when, given two numbers, we try co find their produce by
multiplying them toge[her.
1 Descartes~ Geometry suggests chat by the phrase 'expressed in two different ways'
Ile means 'expressed in cquacions'. The point seems to be chat i( a problem is to be ln the fourth sort of problem we [ry to find a part of a whole, given the
determinate, there must be as mauy equations as chere :ire unknowns. Cf. Ceometr)', AT
V I 373 1 From ch. 2, part 4, pp. }91ff (AT X 471ff). See above, pp. 54ff.
z. J.e. muhiplic:.uion :and division. l)erhaps a tadc reference ro Pascal's Treatise on sin~ Equilibrium of Liq,,ids and the
3 As far as we know, Descartes did not compl<:rc Rules Nine~etn co Twenry-one. 'nn~ eNo' \'(/eight of 1he Atmospl)ert. Since the latter wo~k was publishe'd in 166; (after Descartes
occurs in A and H. de:uh). some of the c:o11renr of rhe abo\e cxcract (pC'rhaps all) may be due co Arnau1d.
Rules for the Direction of the Mind

who.le and some ocher part of it, as when, given a number and another
n umber to be subtracted from it, we try to find the remainder; or when, The World and Treatise on Man
given a number, we try to find such and rnch a parr of it.
But in order to extend the scope of the latter rwo so rts of problem, so
that they include wh at could not properly be brought under the former
two sorts, we must note th at rhe word 'part' has co be taken in a very wide
sense, as sig nifying everything that goes co make up a thing - its modes, T ranslator's Preface
itS extremities, its accidents, its properties, and in general all its attri-
butes. Accordingly we shall be seeking a whole by way of its parts when
we try to find t he area of a triangle, given its height and its base. On the, The World and T rearise on Man are two parts of a wo rk which Descartes
other hand we shall be seeking a part by way of the whole together with wrote in French during the years 1629-33, and which the condemnatio11
another parr when we try to find a side of a rectangle on the basis o f o ur of Galileo by the Ro man Inquisit io n caused him not to publish. They
knowledge of its a rea an d o ne of its sides. were published pos[humo usly.
The \Y/orld first appeared at Paris in r664, under the title Le Monde de
M. Descartes 0 11 le Traite de la Lumiere. Bu t this edition was based o nly
on a copy of tb c original manuscript, and in 1677 Clerselier produced a
version based on the original. The Treatise on Man was published ar
Paris in r664 under t he titl e L'Homme de Rene Descartes, again edited
by Clerselier and based on the origina l manuscrip[ (a Latin translation
based on a copy of the o rigina l having appeared at Leiden in x662).
Altho ugh published se pa rately, the works are pan of a single treatise.
In this trea tise, Descartes tells Mersenne in November r6:i.9, ' instead of
explaini ng onl y one phenomenon, l have reso lved to explain all th e
phenomena of nature, i.e. all of physics'. And on :1.2 Jul)' 1633 Descartes
an nounced to Mersenne that his treatise was almost finished, needing
only to be corrected and recopied. While revising the work, however,
Descartes learned that the Ch urch had condemned Galileo for publishing
his views about rhe motion of the earth, and in November 1633 he
informed M ersenne that he had decided not co publish the treatise. 'For',
he wrote, 'I would no t for all the world want a discourse to issue from me
that contained the least word of wh ich the Church would disa pprove,
and so l would prefer to suppress it than 10 have ir appear in a mangled
form.'
From the contents of the published works and Descartes' accoum of
them in hi s co rrespondence and in the D iscourse, it appears that t he
suppressed treatise began with the work published as The World,
contin ued witb two chapters (now lost) linking this material with the
contents of th e Treatise on Man, and concluded with the latter work . Bur
the published T reatise 011 Man is itself incomplete, containing freq uent
references to subsequent discussions of the rational soul and its relation
ro rhe body, which have been lost or were incorporated by Descartes in
his la ter writings. In add itio n, it may be conjectured that the suppressed
79
80 The World and The Treatise on Man

treatise contained material later published in the Meteorology and the


Principles of Philosophy.
The present translation, consisting of Chapters 1, 2, 3 (in part}, 4, 5 (in
pan), 6 and 7 (with an omission) from The World, and substan tial
extracts from the Treatise on Man, is based on the text in Volume x1 of
Adam and Tannery. 1 Thus it follows the i677 version of The World
(though, as Adam notes, the chapter headings were probably added by THE WORLD or TR EA TISE ON LIGHT AT XI
Clerselier) and the r664 version of the Treatise on Ma11 .(bu t without }
Clersel ier's division of che work into chapters).
R.S.
Chapter r The difference between our sensations and the
t St:e General lntroductfon, p. x above. things that produce them
The subject I propose to deal with in this treatise is light, and the first
point I want to draw to yom atten tion is that there may be a difference
between the sensation we have of light (i.e . the idea of light which is
formed in o ur imagination by the mediation of our eyes) and what it is in
rhe objects that produces this sensation within us (i.e. what it is in a Aame
or the su n that we ca ll by the name 'light'). For although everyone is
commonly convinced that the ideas we have in our min<l are wholly
similar to the objects from which t hey proceed, nevertheless I cannot sec
any reason which assures us that this is so. On the contrary, 1 nore many 4
obscrvatioris which should make us doubt it.
Words, as you well know, bear no resemblance to the things they
signify, and yet t hey make us rbink of these things, frequently even
without our paying arremion to the sound of the words or to their
syllables. T hus it may happen that we hear an mterance whose meaning
we understand perfect ly well, but afterwards we cannot say in what
language it was spoken. Now if words, which signify nothing except by
human convention, suffice to make us think of things to which they bear
no resemblance, then why could nature not also have established some
sign which would make us have the sensation of light, even if rhe sign
contained nothing in itself which is similar to this sensation? Is it not thus
that nature has established la ughter and tears, to make us read joy and
sadness on che faces of men?
But perhaps you will say that our ears really cause us to perceive only
the sound of the words, and our eyes only the councenance of the person
who is laughing or weeping, and that it is our mind which, recollecting
what the words and the countenance s(gnify, represents their meaning to
us at the same time. I coul<l reply that by the same token it is our mind
which represents to us the idea of light each time our eye is affected by the
action which signifies it. But rather than waste time debating the
question, [ prefer to bring forward another example.
Sc
Tbe \Ylorld The W orld

Suppose we hear only chc sound of some words, without attending to


their meaning. Do you chink the idea of this sound, a~ it is formed in our Chapter 2 What the heat and the light of fire consist in 7
mind, is anything like the object which is its cause? A man opens hi~
mouth, moves his congue, and breathes our: I do not ~cc anything in these J know of onl y two sorts of bodies in the world in which light is present,
actions which is not very different from the iden of die so und which they namely the stars and flame o r li re. And becau se rhe stars arc undoubted ly
make us imagine. Most philosophers maintain rhar sou nd is noth ing buc less accessible to huma 11 knowledge rhan lire or llame, I shall try li rsr to
a certain vibration of air which strikes our cars. Thus, if the sense of exp lain what I observe regardi ng flame.
hearing transmirted to our mind the true image of its object th en, instead When flame burns wood or some other similar material, we can ;ec
of maldng us conccilc the sound, it would have to make us conceive rhe with the naked eye tb at it sets the minute pans of the wood in motion
motion of rhe pans of the air which is then vibrating against our ears. But and separates them from one another, thus rransforming the finer pans
not everyone will wish to believe whar the philosophers say, and so I shall into lire, air and smoke, and leaving the coarser parts as ashes. Others
bring forward yet anoiher example. may, if they wish, imagine the form of fire, the quality of heat, and
Of all our senses, touch is the one considered the least deceptive and the process of burning to be completely different things in the wood . Fo r
most certain. Thus, if I show you that even touch makes us conceive my pa rt, I am afraid of mistakenly supposing there is anything more in
many ideas which bear no resem bl ance ro chc objects which produce the wood than what I see must necessari ly be in it, and so I am content to
them, I do not think you should find it srrange if I say thar sight ca n do limit my conception to rhe morion of its parts. For you may posit 'fire'
likewise. Now, ever)onc knows that the ideas of tickling and of pain, and ' hear' in the wood, and make il burn as much as )'Oll please: but if
6 which arc formed in our mind on the occasion of our being touched by iou do not suppose in addition rhat some of its parts move about and
exrernal bodies, bear no resemblance to these bodies. Suppose we pass a detach rhemselvcs from their neighbours, I cannot imagine it undergoing
cather gentli over the lips of a child who 1s fallmg asleep, and he feels any alteration or change. On the other hand, if you take away the 'fire',
himself being rickled. Do you think rhe idea of tickling which he take away the 'heat', and keep the wood from 'burning'; then, provided
conceives resembl e~ anything present in th is fc:uher? A soldier returns on ly that you grant me there is some power which puts its finer pans into
from battle; in che he:11 of combar he might have been wounded without violent motion and separares them from the coarser parrs, I consider that 8
being awa re of ir. llut now, as he begins to cool off, he feels pa in and this power alone will be able to bring about all rhe sa me changes that we
believes himse(( wounded. We ca ll a surgeon, who examines the soldier observe in the wood when it burns.
afrer we remove his armour, and we find in the end thar what he was Now since it does nm seem possible to conceive how one body could
feeli ng was norhing but a buckle or strap caught under bis armour, which move another excep r through irs own movement, I conclude that the
was pressing on him and causing his discomfort. If his sense of couch, in body of the Oame which acts upon the wood is composed of minute
making him feel this srrap, had imprinted an image of it in his mind, rhere parts, which move about independently of one another wirh a very rapid
would have been no need for a surgeon to in form him of what he was and very violent motion. As they mo,e about in this way they pusb
feeling. against the parts of the bodies they are touching and move tho.e which
ow, I see nc) reason which compels us ro bcli~ve chat what it is in do nor offer them too much resistance. I say that the Oame's parts move
objects that gives rise to the sensation of light i ~ any more like this about individually, for a lthough many of them often work rogct hcr to
sensarion than the actions of a feacher and n strap are like a tickling bring a bout a single effect, we see nevertheless that each of them t1c1> 011
sensation and pain. And yet I have not brought up these examples to its own upon the bod ies they touch. I say, too, that their motion is very
make you believe categorically that the lighr in the objects is somethi11g rapid and very violent, for they are so mi nute that we cannot disl ing111sh
different from what it i; in our eyes. I mcrcl)' wanted you to suspect 1hat them by sighc, and so they would not have rhe force they have to act upon
there might be a difference, so as to keep you from assuming the rhe other bodies if the rapidity of thei r movement did not compensate for
opposite, and to make you better able to help me in examining the matter their lack of size.
further. I add nothing about the direction in which each pan moves. For the
power to move and rhe power that determines in whac direction the
>lc1cly different chings, and can exist one 9
111011011 111us1 take Jllacc arc co1111
The World The World

witho ut the other (as I have explained in the Optics). 1 If you consider this winds, that the sea is never a t rest, that springs a nd rivers flow
fact, you will easily recognize that each part moves in the manner made ceaselessly, that the strongest buildings eventually fall into decay, that
least difficult for it by the disposition of the bodies surrounding it. Jn the plant.sand animals are always growing or decaying - in short, that there
same flame there may be some parts going up, others going down, some is nothi ng anywhere which is not changing. from this I know clearly that
going in straight lines, others in ci rcles, and some in every direction, a ll a name is not the only thing in which there are a number of minute parts
withoui any variation in the flame's na ture. Thus if you see almost all the in ceaseless motion , hu t that every other body has such pans, even
parts rending upwa rd you need not think this is happening for any re<1son though their ae1ions are not so violent and th ey a re so minute that they
excepr 1ha1 the or her bodies rouching them are almost always disposed to cannot be perceived by a ny of our senses.
offer them more resistance in all the other directions. I shall not pause to seek the cause of their motions, for it suffices for me
Bur now chat we have recognized that the parts of a flame move in this to suppose that they began to move as soon as the world began to exist.
manner, and that it suffices to conceive of their motions in order to That being rhe case, I find by my reasoning that their motions cannot
understand how the f1amc has rhc power to consume the wood anll 10 possibly ever cease, or even change in any way except in respect of their
bum, I suggest char we ask whether the same will not also suffice co make suhjcct. Thai is 10 say, the virtue or power of sell-movement found in one
us undcrsrand how the flame provides us with heat and light. For if body may indeed pass wholly or partially into another and thus be no
thac is th e case, ii will not be necessary for the flame to possess any other longer pre~cm in rhe first; but it can not entirely cease to exist in the
qualicy, and we shall be able to say that it is this motion alone which is world. My argume111s, I say, are en ough to satisfy me on ch is point; but I
ca lled now 'heat' and now ' light', according to the diHerem effeccs it have nor yet had occasion to relate them to you. In the meantime you
produces. may imagine if you wish (as do most of the learned) that there is some r2

As regards hear, the ~cnsarion we have of it may, I think, be taken for a prime mover w hich, travelling about the world at a speed beyond
10 kind of pain whe n the motion is viole111, and solltetimes for a kind of comprehension, is the origin and source of all the othe r mo tions found in
tickling when the motion is moderate. And since we have a lready said it ....
that there is nothing oulsidc our lhoughc which is similar co the ideas we
conceive of tickling and paiu, we may well believe also that chcrc is Cha pter 4 The void, and how it happens that our senses do ( 16)
noth ing w hich is similar ro th e idea we conceive of heat; rather, this not perceive certain bodies
sensation may be produced in us by anything that can set up vario us
motions in the minute parts of ou r hands o r of any other place in our Bur we must examine in greater derail why air, a lthough it too is a body,
body. T his view is supporced by man y obseHations. 1 For we can heac o ur canno t be pe rceived by t he senses as well as other bodies. In t his way we t7
shall free ourselves from an error that has gripped all of us since our
hands merely by rubbing thelll together, and any o ther bod y can also be
heated without be ing placed near a fire, provided o nly that it is agita ted childhood, when we came to bel ieve that there are no bodies a round us
and shaken so lhar many of its minute parts move about and thereby ca n excepr th ose capable of being perceived by the senses, and therefore thac
if air were one o f them (because we percei,c ii 10 some extent) il could
move the minute parrs of our hands.
As regards lighc, we can also conceive that this same motion in the not be so material or solid as those we perceive to a grearer extent.
flame is sufficienc to cause our sensation of it. But since this forms the On this subjccr I should first like you to note that all bodies, both hard
main part o f my project, I shall try to explain it at some length when I and f1uid, are made from die same matter, and that ii is impossible ro
resume discussion of this mancr. conceive of the parts of this matter C\er composing a more solid body, or
one occupying less space, 1han they do when each of them is rouched on
all sides by the orher surrounding parts. It follows, on my view, char if a
Chapter 3 Hardness and fluidity vacuum can cx1s1 an~"'vhere, it must be in hard bodies rather tha n in f1uid
I believe rhat countless different motions go on perpetually in the world. 1 Dt~-:artn goc.-< on t0C'Xpb1n thr d1flcrcncc Mt\\ ten ha.rd bodies and tluid bodies m terms
After not ing the grea1es1 of chese (which bring about the days, months o f the motwn o( 1hc1r p2rn. The- hardest bodr imaginable is one .,.nose pans, ma SUit' of
and years), I take note that terrestrial vapours consrantly rise to the c;omplrrr rc+.t, 1om:h each orhcr w1rh no space bc-twttn any f\'\.'O; inJ the mosr Ruid body
'' cmt whf>'W' ,m.1fh:'\t potrb .uc conStandy mo,ing a\'\-ay ron1 each other m rapid and
11 clouds and descend from chem, chat the air is forever agitated by the rJnt.l.. 1111 mocmn. while: \lill touchmg e.tch <Kh(r on all sides.. Cf. Prinaples, Pan ~. .i.n .
~-I L pp . .q~f b,11\1, h>r .111 ln>:.f1,h Hr..,1on of m;uafr1I ornmeJ here and below.~
I Cf. pp. I ss ff below. L Sec not< og,p. H below. l<tnr l>111.rrt1' 111' \t'U1/.f, tr \l. \. ~1.thonc) tN.Y.: Ab,.lris., 1979).
86 The World The \'llorld

ones. For obviollsly it is easier for rhe parrs of hard bodies to press and fountain: if they do not come too near the surface of the wa ter, they
arrange themselves against one another than for the pans of flll id bodies cause no motion in it at all, even though they are passing beneath it with
to do so, since the latter arc moving about while the former are great speed. From this it clearly appears that the water chey push befo re 20
motionless. them does not push all che water in the pool indis<.'riminately: it pushes
For example, when you put powder into a jar, you shake the jar and only the water which can best serve to perfect the <.' ircle of their move-
tap it to make room for more powder. But if you pour some liquid into a menc and to occupy the place which they vacate.
jar, it immediately setdes down automatically imo che smallest place you TI1is observation is enough to show the ease and familiarity with which
could put it. And indeed, if )'OU consider some of the experiments which these circu lar motions occur in nature. But l want now ro adduce another
r8 philosophers commonl y use to show that there is no vacllllm in nat ure, o bservation, in order to show that no motion ever takes place which is
you will readily recognize tl1at all those spaces which people consider not circu lar. When the wine in a cask does not flow from the bocro m
empty, where we perceive only ai r, are at least as full, and 611ed with the opening because the top is completely closed, it is improper to say, as
same matter, as the spaces where we perceive other bodies. they o rdinarily do, that this rakes place through 'fear of a vacuum'. We
\Yle know from observations of certa in machines that nature causes the are well aware that the wine has no mind to fear anything; and even if it
heaviest bodies to rise and the hardest to shatter, rath er rhan permitting did, I do not know for what reason it could be apprehensive of this
any of their parts co stop rouching one another or co <.'Ome into contact vacuum, which indeed is nothing but a ch imera. Instead we must say that
with any other bodies. Tell me, if you please, how likely it is that nature rhe wine cannot leave the cask because outside eve rything is as full as can
would do this while yet allowing the pares of air, IVhich are so easy to be , and the part of the ai r whose place the wine would occupy if it were
bend and to arrange in all ways, to remain next to each other wit hout to now out <.'an find no other place to occupy in all the rest of rhe unive rse
being touched on all sides, or without there being any other body unless we make an opening in che top of the cask through which the air
between them which they touch? Could one really believe that the water can rise by a circular path into ics place.
in a we ll has to rise, contrar)' t o its natural inclination, merely in order For all that, I do not wish to insist that there is no vacu um at all in
that the pipe of a pump may be filled, or th ink that the water in clouds nature. My treatise wou ld, I fear, become too long if I undertook to
does not have to fall in order co fill the spaces here o n earrh, if there were explain the matter at length, and the observations of which I have spoken 21
even the least vacuum between the pares of che bodies they contain ? are not sufficient to prove my point, altho ugh they are enough to confirm
But here you might bring forward a di fficulty which is rather important that the spaces in which we perceive nothi ng by our senses are filled with
- namely, that the component parts of fluid bod ies cannot, it seems, the same matter as those occupied by the bodies that we do perceive, and
x9 move about incessantly ;1s 1. have said they do, unless there is empty space contain at least as much of this matter as the latter spa<.'es. Thus, for
between t hem , at least in the places which the parts vacate as they move example, when a vessel is full of gold o r lead, it contains no more matter
abouc. I would have difficulty in replying if I had not learned , through than when we think it is empty. This may seem very strange to many
various observations, that all the motions which rake place in the world people, whose reason extends no further than their fingertips, and who
are iJl some way circular. That is, when a body leaves ic:s place, it always suppose that there is nothing in the world except what they touch. But
enters in to the place of some other body, and so on to the last body, when you have given a little consideration to what makes us perceive a
which at the same instant occupies the place vacated by the first. Thus body by our senses, or not perceive it, lam sure that you will find norhing
th ere is no more of a ''acuum between bodies when they arc moving incredible in this. For you will recogni ze it as evident that, so far from all
about than when they are at rest. And nore here that in order for this to the things around us being perceivable, on the contra ry those that usuall y
happen it is not necessa r)' that all the pares of bodies moving together are there are the least perceivable, and those that arc always there can
should be arranged exactly in a ring, as in a true circle, nor even tbat they never be perceived at all.
should be of equal size and sl1apc. For any such ineq ualities can easily be The heat of our heart is very great, but we do nor feel it because it is
cou ncer-balanced by other ineq ualities in their speed. usually there. The weight of our body is not small, but it does not
We do not usually notice these circular motions when bodies are discomfort us. We do not even feel the weight of our clothes, because we
moving in the air, because we are accustomed to conceiving of the air arc acc ustomed to wearing them. The reaso n for this is clear enough: for
only as an empty space. But look at fish swimming in the pool of a it is certain rhar we cannot perceive any body by our senses unless it is the
88 The World 11Je \YIorld

cause of some change in o ur sense organs - that is, unless it somehow be following their opi nion if 1 say that this liner air and this clement of
22 moves the minute parts of the matter of wh ich these organs are fire fill the gaps which are between th e parts of the ordinary air we 24
composed. Objects which are not always present can indeed do this, breathe, so that these bodies, intedaced with one another, make up a
provided they have enough force; for if they damage something in the mass which is as sol id as an)' body can be.
sense organs while acting o n t hem, that ca n be repaired afterwards by But in o rder to get you to understand 111)' thought o n this subject, and
nature, when they are no longer acting. But regarding the objects which so that you wi ll not think 1 want to compel you to be lieve all that the
con tinual ly touch us, if they ever had the power to produce any change in philosophers tell you about th e elements, I must describe them ro you in
o ur senses and to move some parts of their macter, they must have moved my own fashion ... 1
these pares, and thereby separated them entirely from the others, at the If you find it strange that in explaining these elements 1do not use the (25 )
o utset of our life; and in this way they can have left there only the parts qualities called 'heat', 'cold', 'mo isture' and 'dryness' - as the philo-
which completely resist their action a nd by means of which they cannot sophers do - I shall say to you that rhese qualities th emselves seem to me 26
be perceived by o ur senses in any way. From this you can see that it is no to need explanation. Indeed, unless l am mi staken, no t only these four
wonder that there are many spaces about us in which we do not perceive qualities but all the others as well, including even the forms of inan imate
any body by our senses, even though they contain no fewer bodies than bodies, can be explained without the need to suppose anyth ing in their
the spaces in which we perceive the most. matter other than the motion, siz.e, shape, and arrangement of its parts.
It must not be thought, howC\'Cr, that rhe ordi nary air which we draw ln consequence I shall easily be able to get you to understand why I do
into o ur lungs while breathing - the air which turns imo wind when set in not acknowledge any elements o tber th an the three I have described. For
motion, which seems hard when enclosed in a balloon, and which is the d ifference that must exist between them and the o ther bodies, whicb
composed only of exhalations and fumes - is as solid as water or earth . philosophers call 'mixed' or 'composite', consists in the fact that the
Herc we must follow the common opinion of the philosophers, who all forms of these mixed bodies always contain some qualities which oppose
maintain that it is rarer. This can easily be known through observation. and counteract one another, or which at least do nor rend to rhe
For when the parts of a drop of water are separated from one another by preservation of one another. But in fact the forms of the clemencs must be
the agitation of .heat, they can make up much more of this o rdinary air simple and must nor have any qual ities which do not accord so pe rfectly
i. 3 than could be contai ned in the space that held the water. From this it with one ano ther that each con tributes to the preservarion of all the ochers.
follows with certainry that there are a great number of tiny gaps between Now I cannot find any such forms in the wo rld except the th ree I have
the parts of which the air is composed, for there is no other way to described. For the form 1 have attributed ro the first element consists in its
conceive of a rare bod>' But since these gaps cannot be empty, as I have parts moving so extremely rapidly and being so minute that there are no
said above, I conclude that there arc necessarily some other bodies, one other bodies capable of stopp ing them; and in addition th ey need not
or many, mixed in with the air, and these bodies fill as tightly as possible have any determ inate sir.e, shape, or pos ition. The forlll of t he second
the tiny gaps left between its pares. It now only remains for me to clement consists in its pa rts being so moderate in their motion and size i.7
consider what these other bodies c:tn be; after that, I hope it will not be that if there are many causes in the world whicl\ may increase their
difficult to understand what the nature of light can be. motion an<l decrease their size, the re are just as many others which can
do exactly the opposite; and so they alwais re main halanced as it were in
the same moderate condition. An<l the form of the thi rd element consists
in its pans being so large or so closely joined together that rhey always
Chapter 5 The number ofelements and their qualities have the force to resist the motions of the other bodies.
The philosophers ma intain rhat above the clouds there is a kind of air Examine as much as you please all the forms that can be given to
much finer than ours, which is nm composed of terrestrial vapours, mixed bodies by the various motions, the various shapes and sizes, and
as our air is, but constitutes a separnte element. They say too that a bove the different arrangement of the parts of matter : I am sure you will fi nd
this air there is yet another body, much finer again, which they call the none tha t does not contain in itself qualities wh ich tend to bring it about
element of fire. They add, moreover, that these two elements are mixed 1 There follows ~ bric descriprion of rhe lhree elements fire, air and tarth~ which Descartes
with water and earth to make up all the bodies below. Thus l shal l merely <l 1M111~11i~hc.::. 11oldy in terms of th< size, sh:ipc and motion of their parts.
90 The World Tl1e World

th:u matter undergoes change and, in changing, reduces co one of the To this end, let us expressly suppose that it does noc have the form of
forms of the elements . . . 1 earth, lire, or air, or any other more specific form, like that of wood,
(j 1) Many other things remain for me to explain here, and I would myself stone, or metal. Let us also >Upposc that it lacks the qualities of bcmg hot
be happy to add se,eral arguments to make my opinions more plausible. or cold, dry or moist, light or heavy, and of having any taste, ~mcll ,
But in order co make th is long disco urse less boring for )'Ou, I want to sound, colour, light, or ot her such quality in the nature of which there
clothe part of it in the guise of a fable, in the course of which I hope the might be said co be someth ing which is not known clearly by everyone.
truth will not fail co become sufficiently clear, and will be no less pleasing On the other hand, let us not also think that this matter is the 'prime
to see than if I were to set it forth wholl r naked . matter' of the philosophers, which they have stripped so thoroughly of all
its forms and qua lities that nothing remains in it w hich can be cle:1rly
Chapter 6 Description of a ner.v world; and the qualities of understood. I.et us rather concei ~e it as a real, perfectly solid body which
uniformly fi lls che entire length, breadtb a nd depth of th is huge space in
the matter of which it is composed the midst of which we have brought our mind ro rest. 1bus, each of its
Fo r a while, then, allow your thought ro wander beyond this world to partS always occupies a part of that space which ic fits so exactly that it
view another world - a wholly new one which I sha ll bring into being could neither fill a larger one nor squeeze inco a smaller; nor could it,
before your mind in imaginary spaces. The philosophers tell us that such while remaining there, allow another body to find a place there.
3z spacts arc infini te, and they should certainly be believed, since it is they Let us add chat rhis ma11er may be divided into as many pares having as 34
themsel\'es who invented them. But in order to keep this infinity from many shapes as we can imagi ne, and that each of its pares is capable of
hampering and confusing us, let us nor try to go right to che end: let us taking on as many motions as we can conceive. l et us suppose,
enter it only far enough to lose sight of all the creatures that God made moreover, that God really divides it into many such paris, some larger
five or six thousand years ago; and after stopping in some definite place, and some smaller, some of one shape and some of another, however we
let us suppose that God creates anew so much matter all around us that care to imagine them. It is not that God separaces these pares from one
in whatever direction our imagination may extend, it no longer perceives another so that there is so me void between them: rather, let us regard t he
any place which is empty. differences he creates within this matter as consisting who ll y in t he
Even tho ugh the sea is nor infinite, people on some vessel in the middle diversity of the motions he gives to its parts. From the first instant of the ir
of it may stretch thei r view seemingl y to infinity; and yet there is more creation, he causes some to srnrt moving itl one direction and ochers in
water beyond wh at t hey see. Likewise, although our imagination seems another, some faster and others slower (or even, if you wish, not at all};
able to stretch to infinity, and this new matter is not supposed to be and he causes them to conci nuc moving tbereaf!er in accordance with the
infinite, ycc we ca n suppose that it fills space> much greater than all those ordinary laws of narure. For God has established these laws in such a
we have imagined. And just to ensure that this supposition conrains marvellous way that even if we suppose he creates nothing be)Ond what I
nothing you might find objectionable, let us not allow our imagination to have mentioned, and sets up no order or proportion within it bu1
extend as far as it could; let us intentionally confine it to a decerminare composes from it a chaos as confused and muddled as any the p<><:ts
space which is no greater, say, than the distance between the earth and could describe, the laws of nature arc sufficient to cause the parts of this
the principal stars in the heavens, and let us suppose that the matter chaos to disentangle thcmsch es and arrange themselves in such good
which God has created extends indefinitely far beyond in all directions. order that they will have chc form of a q uite perfccc world - a world m JS
33 For ic is much more reasonable to prescribe limits to the action of our which we shall be able to sec not only light but also all the other thing,,
mind than to the works of God, and we arc mu ch better ab le to do so. general as we ll as panicular, which appear in the real world.
Now sin ce we are taking the liberty of fas hioning this matter as we l~ut before I explain this at greater length , pause again for a bi t to
fancy, let us attribu te to it, if we may, a nature in which there is consider this chaos, :wd observe d1at it co ntains nothing which you do
abso lutely notb ing that everyone cannot know as perfectly as possible. not know so perfectly that you could not even pretend to be ignorant o f
it. l'or, as regards the qua lities I have puc into it, you may have noticed
l Descartes goes on ro show wh)' the b-Odies aboul us mus1 be 'mixed'. or composed of
p3 rt$ o( the three eJtments. He likens thtse bodies to 11ponges, rhtir 'por("s~ Ming filled that I sup J>Osed chem LO be only of such a kind char you could imagine
with pm of th< first nd econd dements, which rnrnot be perceived by th< senses. Cf. 1hcm. And, as regards the mntter from which I have composed it, rhcre
Principltt., Pur t, art. 6, p. t?.S btlow. i~ nmhing .,impler or ca<>icr to know in inanimate crearures. Th e idea
The World Tlie World 93
of this maner is included to such an extent in all the ideas that our thus to preserve ir, that there must be many changes in ics parts which
11naginarion can form that you musl necessarily conceive it or else you cannot, it seems to me, properly be attributed to the ac1 ion of God
can never imagine anything at all. (because chat action never changes), and which therefore I :ittribute to
Ncvcr1heless, the philosophers are so subtle that 1hey can find difficul- nature. The rules by which these changes take place I call the 'laws of
1ies in things which seem extremely clear to other men, and the memory nature'.
of their 'prime maner', which they know io be rather hard to conceive, In order to understand 1h1s better, recall that among the qualitic~ of
may divert them from knowledge of the mmer of which J am speaking. matter, we have supposed that its parts have had various d1ffcrc111
Thus l must tell them at this point dint, unless l am mistaken, the whole motions from the moment they were created, and furthermore that rhcy
difficu lty they face witb tbeir matter arises simply from their wa nting to are all in contact with each other on all sides without there being any
distinguish it fro m its own quantit y and from its external extension - that void between any two of them. From this it foll ows necessarily that from
is, from t he pro perty it has of occupying space. In this, however, I am the time they began to move, rhcy also began to change and diversify
quite wi lling for the m to think they arc right, lor I bave no inrenrion of 1heir motions by colliding with one another. So if God subsequen tly
36 stopping to contradict them. But 1hey should also not find it strange if I preserves them in the same way that be created them, he docs not
suppose tbal the quantity of the matter I have described does not differ preserve them in the same srnte. That is to say, with God always acting in
from its substance any more than number differs from the things the same way and consequently always producing substantia lly the same
numbered. Nor should they find it strange if I conceive its extension, or effect, there are, as if by accident, many differences in this effect. And il is 38
1he property it has of occupying space, nol as an accident, but as its true easy to accept that God, who is, as everyone must know, immmablc,
form and essence. for they can not deny that it can be conceived quice always acts in che same way. Bul wuhout involving myself any further in
easily in chis way. And my purpose is not to explain, as they do, che 1hese metaphysical consideration~, I shall set out two or three of the
rhings which are in fact in che real world, but onl)' to make up, as I principal rules according to which it must be thought that God causes the
please, a world in which there is norhing thac the dullest minds are natu re of t his new world to operate. These, I believe, will suffice to
incapable of conceivi ng, and which nevertheless could be creared exactly acquaint you wi th all the others.
as 1 have imagin ed ir. TI1e first is that each in dividual part of matter contin ues always to be in
Were I ro put into this new world rhc least thing that is obscure, this the same state so long as collision with others does not force it to cha nge
obscurity might well conceal some hidden comradiction I had not chat state. That is to say, if the pan has some size, it will never become
perceived, and hence, wirhouc thinking, I mighr be supposing something smaller unless others divide it; if it is round or square, it wi ll never change
impossible. lnstead, si nce everything I propose here can be distinctl y chat shape unless others force it to; if it is brought to resr in some place, it
imagined, i1 is certain that even if there were nothing of this sort in the will never leave chat place unless others drive it out; and if it has once
old world, God can nevertheless crcarc it in a new one. foe it is certain begun to move, it will always continue with an equal force ulllil others
rhat he can create everything we can imagine. scop or retard it.'
There is no one who does not belie,e that t his same rule holds in the
Chapter 7 The laws of nature of this new world old world with respect to si7-c, shaix, rest and numerous other ~uch
things. But the philosopher.; have excluded motion from che rule- whid1
But I do not want to delay an)' longer telling you by what means nanire is just the thing I most definitely wish to include in it. Do not rhink,
alone can untangle the confusion of the chaos of which I have spoken, however, that I intend to contradic1 them: the morion chey speak of 1' ~o .19
and whal 1he laws are that God has imposed on it. very different from the one I conceive that it may very easily happen tha1
37 Note, in t he first place, rhar by 'nature' here I do not mean some what is true of the one is not true of the other.
goddess or any other sort of imagina ry power. Rather, I am using this They admit themselves ch at the nature of their motion is very little
word to signify matter itself, in so far as I ;1 m considering it taken understood. To render it in some way intelligible they have not yet been
togeth er with all the qual ities I have aurib uted to it, and under the ab le to explain ic more clearly than in these terms: Motus est actus entis i11
condition t hat God continues to preserve it in the same way that he
crea ted it. for it follows of necessit)', from the mere fact that he continues 1 Ste Pr-mc1plts, Pa.n 1, an. l7 (l..clow. p. 2-.0) for Dcsc.:artcs' latcr fonnul3tfon of this law.
94 The World The \'(/orld 95
potc11tia, pro11t i11 pote11tia cst. 1for me these words arc so obscure that l preceding, agrees very well with all the observations in which we ~cc one
am compelled to leave chem in Latin hccause I cannot interpret chem. body begin or cease to move because it is pushed or stopped by another
(And in fact the sentence 'Motion is the acmality of a potential being in one. For, having supposed the preceding rule, we are free from the
so far as it is potential' is no clearer for being translated.} By contrast, difficulty in which the Schoolmen find themselves when they wr\h m
rh c nature of the motion I mean to speak of here is so easy to know that explain why a stone continues to move for some rime after leavi ng 1hc
the geometers themselves, who among a II me11 are the most concerned to hand of the one who threw it. For we should ask, instead, why doc~ the
conceive very distinctly the things rhey study, have judged it simpler and stone not continue to move forever? Yer the reason is easy ro give. l'or
more iotelligiblc than the nature of their surf:ices and lines - as is shown who can deny that the air in which it is moving offers it some resistance?
by the face that they have explained 'line' as the morion of a point and \Y/e hear it whisile when it cuts through the air; and if a fan, or some
'surface' as the motion of a line. other very ligh t and extensive body, is moved through the air, we shall
The philosophers also posit many motions which they think can take even be able to feel by the weigh t in our hand rhar the air is impeding its
place wichouc any bodr's changing place, like those they call 1110111s ad motion rather than keeping it moving, as some have wanted to say. But
formam, mows ad calorem, 1110111s ad q11ami1a1em ('morion with respect suppose we refuse to explain the effects of rhe air's resistance in
to form', 'motion with respect to heat', 'motion with respect co quanrtty') accordance with our second rule, and we think tha t the more resistance a
40 and numerous others. For my part, I am nor acquainted with any body can offer the greater irs capacity to check the motion of other bodies
morion except that which is easier to conceive than the lines of the (as perhaps we migh t be persuaded at first). Jn this case we sht1ll have
geometers - the motion which makes bodies pass from one place ro great difficuhy explaining why the motion of the stone is reduced more io 4 2
another and successively occupy all the spaces which exist in between. colliding with a soft body which offers moderate resistance than when it
In addition, the philosophers attribute ro the least of these motions a collides with a harder body which resim it more. Likewise, we shall find
being much more solid and rea l than they nttribute to rest, which they say it difficult to exp lain why, as soon as it has encountered some resistance
is nothing but rhe privation o( motion. For my part, I conceive of rest as a in the latter, it immediately turns in its tracks rather than sto pping or
quality roo, which should be attributed to matter while it remains in one interrupting its motion on that account. On the other hand, if we accept
place, just as motion is a quality attributed 10 marrer while it is changing this rule, there is no difficulty at all. For it tells us chat the morion of one
place. body is retarded by its collision with another not in proportion to how
Finall y, the motion of which they s1>eak has a very strange nature; for much tbe latter resists it, but only in proportion co how much the latter's
whereas all orher things have their perfection as an end and strive only to resistance is overcome, and to the extcni that the larrer o beys the rule by
preserve themselves, it has no other end and no other goal than rest and, taking on the force of morion that the former gives up.
cont rary to all the laws of na ture, it strive~ of its own accord ro destroy Now, in most of the motions we sec in the real world we cannot
itself. By contrast, the motion which I posit follows the same laws of perceive th at the bodies which begin or cease ro move are pushed or
nature as do genera ll y all the dispositions and qual ities found in matter- stopped by so me other bodies. But that gives us no reason to th ink that
induding those which the Schoolmen call modos et e11tia ratio11is et1111 these two rules are not being followed exactly. For it is certain that such
f1mdamento i11 re ('conceptual modes and entities founded in things') as bodies can often receive their agirarion from the two clements, arr .ind
wel l as those they call qualitates reales (their 'real qualities', in which I fire, which arc always present among them without being perceivahlc by
confess frankly that I can find no more reality than in the others). the senses (as has just been ~aid), or they may receive it even from 1he
fl I suppose as a second rule thar when one body pushes another it ordinary air, which also cannot be perceived by the senses. Ir is ccn.1i11
cannot give rhe other any morion unless it loses as much of irs own too that they can transfer this agitation sometimes to the ordinary ;Ur,
motion at rhe same time; nor can it take away any of the other's morion and sometimes ro the whole mass of the earth; and when disper,;ecl in the
unless its own is increased by as much. 1 This rule, rogether with the latter, it also cannot be perceived.
But even if everything our senses eve r experienced in the real world 43
Ph)'sirs. 111, . 201"10. Dcscarres critia1ts this definition alro m Rule Tw(lve
r Arl!l-tOtle, seemed manifestly contrary to what is cont~ined in these two rules, the
o( rht R11les (Stt boo, p. 19).
> Set PritiplN, pan >, an. 10 (b<low. p. z1z) whort rh1$ app<ors tht third 13,. 0(
reasoning which has taught them ro me seems so strong that I cannot
nature. help believing myself obliged ro posit them in the new world I am
The Wlorld Tl1e W orld 97

describing to you. For whar more firm and solid foun dation could one at least cwo of irs insrams, or rather two of its parts, and the rd.u iun
find for establishing a truth, even if one wished to choose it at will, than between them. Bur so that the philosophers (or rather rhe soph1'1\) do
the very firmness and immutability which i> in God? not find occasion here co exercise their useless subtleties, note that I .1111
So ir is that these two rules follow manifestly from the mere fact that not saying that rectilinenr mocion can rake place in an inseam, but only
God is immutable and that, acting alway> in the same way, he always that everything required 10 produce it is presenr in bodies ar each in\lalll
produces the same effect. For, supposing rhar God placed a certain which mighc be determined while they are moving, whereas not every
quantity of motion in all maner in general at rhc fi rst instant he crea ted thing required to produce circular motion is present ...
ir, we must either adm it that he always preserves the same amount of According to rhis rule, rhcn, it musr be said that God alone is rhc (4 6)
morion in it, or not believe that he always acts in the same way. Suppose, author of all the motions in the world in so fa r as chey exist and in so for
in addition, that from this first instant the various parrs of matter, in as they are rectilinear; but ir is the various dispositions of matte r which
which thcoc motions are found unequa ll y dispersed, began to re tain them render them irregular and curved. Likewise, the theologians teach us that
or transfer them from one to another, according as rl1ey bad the force 10 God is also the author of all our actions, in so far as they exist and in so 4 7
do so. Then we must necessarily think that God causes them to conrioue far as they have some goodness, but ic is the various disposirions of our
always doing so. And that is what these two rules contain. wills rhar can render them evil.
I shall add, as a third rule, that when a body is moving, even though its I could set our many furrher rule~ here for determining in derail when,
H morion for the most parr takes place along a curved pach and, as we said how, and by how much rhe morion of each body can be changed and
above, it can never make any movcmcm which 1s nor in some way increased or decreased by colliding wi th others - in sum, rules which
circular, yet each of its parts indhidually tends always 10 continue comprehend in a concise way :ill the effects of nature . .But I shall be
moving along a straight line. 1 And so rhc acuon o f the:.e parts - i.e. the contenr with telling you that apart from the three laws I have expounded,
tendency rhey have 10 move - is different from rheir motion. I do not wish to suppose :iny others but rhose which follow inevitably
For example, if we make a wheel rnrn on its axle, even though all its from the erernal truths on which marhema[icians have usually based
paris go in a circle (because, being joined to one another, they cannot do cheir most certain and most evident demonstrations - the truchs, I say,
oth erwise), the ir rendency is to go straight ahead. 111is is obvious if one according to which God himself has taught us rhar he has arranged all
part happens to get detached from the others, for as soon as it is free irs things in number, weight :ind measure. The knowledge of rhesc truths
motion ceases to be circular and continues in a straight line. is so natural ro our souls char we cannoc bur judge them infallible
Likewise, when you swing a stone in a sling, not only does it fly when we conceive them disti nccly, nor doubt rhat if God had created
straigh t out as soon as it leaves the sli ng, bur also whi le it is in the sling ir many worlds, they would be as true in each of rhem as in this one. Th us
presses against the middle of it and causes the cord 10 stretch. 111is makes those who are able to exami ne sufficienrly the consequences of th ese
it obvious rhat it always has a tendency ro go in a straight line and that ir truths and of our rules will be able to recognize effecrs by their cau:,cs.
goes in a circle only under constraint. To express myself in scholastic terms, they will able ro have a
This rule is based on che same foundation as the other two: ic depends priori demonsrrations of e\erything thar can be produced in rhis new
solely on God's preserving each thing by a continuous action, and world.
consequently on his preserving it not as it may have been some time In order 10 eliminate any exception chat may prevent this, we \hall, 1f 48
ea rl ier but precisely as i1 is at the vcr)" insranr that he preserves it. So it is you please, su ppose in addition that God will never perform any mirndc
H that of all motions, only motion in a scraight line is entirely simple and in the new world, and that rhc intelligences, or the rationa l sou ls, which
has a nature which may be wholly grasped in a n instant. For in order to we mighr lacer suppose 10 be rherc, will not disrupt in any way the
conceive such motion it suffices ro think that a body is in che process of ordin ary course of nature. In consequence of chis, however, I do nm
moving in a ccrcain direction, and rlrnt Lhis is the case at each determin promise to set out exact demonstrations of everything I shall say. It will
able insram during the time it is moving. l~y conrrasc, in order to conceive be enough if I open rhc w:1y which will enable you ro discove r them
ci rcular motion, or any other possible motion , iris necessary ro consider yourselves, wben you take the trouble ro look for them. Most minds lose
interest when things are made too easy for them. And ro prescnc a picture
i Sec Principles, P:ut :., an. 39. p. 2.p b<:IO\v. which pleases )'Ou, I need to use shadow as wel l as bright colours. So I
'/'he World

shall be content co conti nue wich the description I have begun, as if my


intention was simply to tell you a fable. 1
r Tht remaining ch::aprcrs o( The \'Clorld deal with t-op1~ indica.tcd in the chapter headings:
Chapter 8 The formatwn of the s1m and t/Jt stars in this 1'ew world.
Chapter 9 The oril{bt alfd cour~ of the. pl.:mcts a11d tomel.s in general; and of
<omcts m pa111c11far.
O:apter JO T1" plontts 111 gt,,tral; and the t4rtb a11d moon in particular TREA TISE ON MAN AT XI
Chapter 11 UltiglJt.
11 9
Otapt<r n,. tbb and flow of th trdes.
Otapter 1) Lrgl11.
Chaprer q Tht pmptrtrts of light. These men will be composed, as we are, of a soul and a body. 1 First I
Oph:r 'S Wiry ti~ face of tbt ,,_,.,,,, of tins new world must appear to its
inhubita~ll mtirtly lrkt that of our ruorld.
must describe the body on its own; then the soul, again on irs own; and r 20
finally I must show how these two natures would have to be joined and
united in order to constirute men who resemble us.
I suppose the body to be nothing but a statue or machine made of
ca rrh,2 which God forms with the explicit intention of making it as much
as possible like us. "Jlms God not on ly gives ir exremally the colours and
shapes of al l the pam of our bodies, but also places inside it all the parts
required to make it walk, eat, breathe, and indeed to imitate all those of
our functions which can be imagined to proceed from matter and to
depend solely on the dis position of our organs.
We see clocks, artificial fountains, mills, and ocher such machines
wh ich, although only man-made, have the power to move of their own
accord in many diffe rent ways. But J am supposing this machine co be
made by th e hands of God, :md so J think you ma)' reasonably think it
capab le o f a grc:Her va riety of movements than I could possibly imagine
in it, and o f exhibicing more artistry than I could possibly ascribe to it.
Now I sha ll not pause 10 describe the bones, nerves, muscles, veins,
arteries, scomach, liver, spleen, heart, brnin, or any of the various other
pares from whi ch this machine must be composed. For l am supposing
that they are enti rely like the parts of our own bodies which have rhe
same names, and I assume rhat if you do not already have sufficient
first-hand knowledge of them, you can get a learned anatomist to show
them to you - at any rate, those wh ich are large enough to be seen with 1 2. 1
the naked eye. As for che parts which are too small to be seen, I can
inform you about them more easily and clearly by speaking of the
movements which dc~nd on them. Thus I need only give an ordcrlr

1 By 'rh<sc men'. DdG.nts mtans the fictional men he maodud in an earhtr (lo'!ir) plrt
or thie work. Their ckscnpt1on 1.s mlcndcd 10 cast lighc on ~ nature of rC01I men m rht
"1mt wy chot chc dosmption of a 'new world' in The World, ch. 6, is incended to c>st
lipu on 1hc ml world Stt ho D1sc0ttrS<, part s. pp. r ;tlf !><low.
B ror1h" 0.MJrtts muns the third "tl<mtn<', which be had disrusscd 1n T~ \'C'orld, <h.
I (d. p. Hy .1bcwcl.

99
100 Treatise 011 Ma11 Treatise on Man l Ol

account of these movements in order to tell you which of our functions natural t0 this machine, a11d which depend on the flow of the spirits, arc
they represent ... 1 like the movements of a dock or mill, which the normal now of water
i:.9 Tl'H! parts of the blood which penetrate as for as the brain serve not can render continuous. External objects, which by their mere prc">ence
only ro nourish and susrain itS substance, but also and primarily to stimulate its sense organs and thereby cause chem to move in many
produce in it a certain very fine2 wind, or rather a very lively and pure different ways depending on how the pans of its brain are disposed, arc
name, which is called the a11imal spirits. For it must be noted that the like visitors who enter the grottos of these fountains and unwittingly
arteries which carry blood to rhe brain from the heart, after dividing into cause the movements which take place before thei r eyes. For they cannot
cou ntless ti ny branches which make up the minute tissues that are enter witho ut stepping on certain riles which are so arranged that if, for
stretched like tapestries at th e bottom o f the cavities of the brain, come example, they approach a Diana who is bathing they will cause her to
together again around a certain little gland 1 situated near the middle of hide in the reeds, and if t hey move forward to pursue ber they wi ll cause a
the substance of the brain, righ t at the enrrnnce to its cavities. The Neptune ro advance and threaten them with his tridcm ; or if they go in
arteries in this region l1ave a great many liu lc holes through which the another direction they will ca use a sea-monster to emerge and spew
(i;o) finer parts of the blood can flow into this gland . . . T hese parts of the water o nto their faces; or other such things according 10 the wb im of the
blood, without any preparation or 'theration except for their separation engineers who made the fountains. And fi nally, when a rational so11/ is
from the coarser parts and their retention of the extreme rapidity wh ich present in this machine it will have its principal seat in the brain, and
the heat of the bean has given them, cease to have the form of blood, and reside there like the fountain-keeper who must be stationed at the tanks
arc called the 'animal spirits'. to which the fountain'~ pipes return if he wanes to produce, or prevent, or 1 F
Now in the same proportion as the animal spims enter the cavities of change their movements in some way . . .1
the brain, they pass from there into the pores of its substance, and from Next, to understand how the external objcccs which strike the sense (t.p)
these pores into the nerves. And depending on the varying amounts organs can prompt this machine to move irs limbs in numerous different
which enter (or merely tend to enter) some nerves more than others, the ways, you should consider that the tiny fibres (which, as I have al ready
spirits have the power to change the shape of the muscles in wh ich the rold you, come from the innermost region of its brain and compose the
nerves :ire em bedded, and by this means to move all the limbs. Simila rly marrow of the nerves) arc so arrnnged in each part of the machine that
you may have observed in the groHos and fount~1ins in the royal gardens serves as the organ of some sense rhat they ca n eas il y be moved by 1hc
th~u the mere force with which the water is dri ven as it emerges from its o bjects of that sense. And when they arc moved, with however litrle
source is sufficient to move various machi nes, and even co make them force, they simultaneously pull the pa rts of the brain from which they
play certain instruments or utter certain words depending o n the various come, and thereby open the entrances to certain pores in the interna l
arrangements of the pipes thr ough which rhc water is conducted. surface of the brai n. Through these pores rhe animal spirits in the
131 Indeed, one may compare rbe nerves of the machine I am describing cavities of the brain immediately begin 10 make their way in to the
wtth the pipes in the works of these fountains, its muscles and tendons nerves and so to the muscles wh ich serve co cause movements in the
w11h the various devices and springs which serve to set them in motion, machine quite similar 10 those we arc naturally prompted to make when
itS animal spiritS with the water which drives them, the heart with the our senses are affected in the same way.
source of the water, and the cavities of the brain with the storage tanks. Thus, for example [in Fig. i ], if fire A is dose to foot B, the tiny parrs of
Moreover, breathing and other such activities which are normal and this fire (which, as you know, move about very rapidly) have the power
also to move the area of skin which they rouch. In this way 1hey pull the 14 i.
1 There follo\.,s a de-scriprion of dii;esnon, the forinauon 11nd circu13tion of the blood, the tiny fibre cc which you see attached to it, and simultaneously open rhc
:action of the heart, and respir3tion. Cf. DisGO"rut, p:ut 5, pp. 1J1ff below, aud Passions, entrance to the pore de, located opposite the point where this fibre
Parr t , art. J-10~ pp. :p.9H, and Destri/Jt1'cm of lb<! Hummr Body, pp. 316ff, be.low. For terminates- just as when you pull one en d of a string, you cause a bell
an EngJ1sh version of material omincd here nnd below, see D~scarrcs: Treariseort Man,
tr. T. S. H>ll (Cambridge, Harv:ird U.P . 197>). hanging at the other end tO ring at chc same time.
i. Fr. sul1tif, by which Descartes 1ne:111s com1>0sed of very small, fun-moving pmticlcs'. When the entrance t0 t he pore or small tube de is opened in this way,
l The p111eal gland, which Descartes lattr identifies 11.c the ~ea t of che imaginaciQ n and the
common' sense (p. 1o~ belQw). See also Ptrssmns (pp. 34off, ~low). where the gla.nd is 1 There: follows a descri 1nion ol the wny tn whi<;h the animal spirits bring abour nlUS4.ular
identified .as rhe seat of the- soul. movc:nu:nt., brC'Jth10~, ...wallowm~. etc. See Pas.sions, Part 1, pp. 334ff below.
102 Treatise on Man Treatise 0 11 Man 101

pulled in this wa y, the fibres cause a movement in the brain which g1vci.
occasio n for th e soul (whose place of residence must remain constant) 10
have the sensation ol pai11.
Now suppose the fibres are pulled with a force almost as great as the
one just mentioned, but without their being broken or separated from the
parts to which they are attached. Then they will cause a movement in the
brain which, testifying to the good condition of the other parrs of the
body, will give the soul occasion to feel a certain bodily pleasure which
we call 'tit1//atio11'. This, as you see, is very close to pain in respect of its
cause but quite opposite in its effect.
Again, if many of these tiny fibres are pulled equally and all together,
they will make the soul perceive thar rbe surface of the body touching the
limb where they termmate is smooth; and if rhe fibres are pulled
unequally they will make the soul feel rhe surface to be uneven and
rough.
And if the fibres are dismrbed only slightly and separately from one
another, as they constantly are by the heat which the hearr transmits to
rhe other pans of the body, the soul will have no more sensation of this
rhan of any other normal function of the body. But if this stimulation is
increased or decreased by some unusual cause, its increase will make the
sou l have a sensatio n of heat, and its decrease a sensation of cold. Finally,
according to the various other ways in which they are stimulated, the
fibres wi ll ca use the soul to perceive all the o ther qualities belonging to
couch in genera l, sucb as 111oist11re, dryness, weight and the like. 14 5
It must be observed, however, that despite the extreme thinness and
mobility of rhcsc fibres, they are not thin and mobile enough to transmit
fig. l
to the brain all the more subtle motions that take place in nature. In fact
the slightest motions they t ransmit arc ones involving the conrser parts of
the an imal spirits from cavity F enter and are carried through it - some to terrestrial bodies. And even among these bodies there may be some
muscles which serve to pu ll the foot away from the fire, some to muscles whose pans, although rather coarse, can slide against the fibres so gently
which tu rn the eyes and head to look ai it, and some LO muscles which that they compress them or cut right through rhem without their action
make the hands move and the whole body turn in order to protect it ... passing to the brain. In just the same way there are cenain drugs which
(143) Now I maintain that when God unites a rational soul to this machine have the power to numb or even destroy the parrs of the body to which
(in a way that I intend to explain later) he will place its principal seat in they arc applied wi thout causing us to have any sensation of them at
the brain, and will make irs nature such that the soul will have different all . . . 1
sensations corresponding to the different ways in which rhe entrances to It is time for me to begin to explain how the animal spirits make their ( 165)
the pores in rhc internal surface of the brain are opened by means of the way through the cavities and pores of the brain of this machine, and
nerves. which of the machine's functions depend on these spirits.
Suppose, firstly, char the tmy fibres which make up the marrow of the
nerves are pulled with such lorce that they arc broken and separated 1 Thctt follO\n Jn oa:oont of th<o 0th<r<Xrnal smscs (t>stc,smdl, heuing and siglu) and
from the part of the body ro which they are joined, with the resulr that o( rn1cmal \<n~a11on.s
(hunger. dtirst. ioy and sadttdS). For Descartes' theor) of \is1on.
144 the structure of the whole machine becomes somehow less perfect. Being '" Op11cs (pp. 167ff bdow), for rh<o orh<or exiemal ,,,,..,.,see
Prindp/es, Prr 4, arr.
rc,1 4 (pp 181ff below) ~od for chc mtcmal sensanons. sec PaJ.SionJ, passmt.
Treatise on i\fon Treatise on Man 105

1f you have ever had the curiosity to exami ne the organs in o ur But before I speak in g reater detail about sleep and dreams, I must have ( 1 74)
churches, you know how the bell ows push the air into cert ain recepracles you consider the most noteworthy evenrs rbat take place in the brain
(which a're called, presum abl y for this reason, wind-chests). And you during 1be rime of waking: namely, how ideas of objects arc formed in
know how the air passes from there into one o r other of the pipes, the place assigned to the imagination and to the 'common' sense, 1 how
depending o n the d ifferent ways in which the organist moves his fingers th e ideas are retained in th e mem ory, and bow they cause movement in
on th e keyboard. You can think of o ur machine's hea rt and arteries, all t'1e parts of the body ...
which push the an imal spirits ioto the cavities of its bra in, as being like In order . .. to see cl ea rly how ideas are [ormed of the objects which
the bellows of an organ, whicb push air into the wi nd-chests; and you strike the senses, observe in this diagram [Fig. 2] the tin y fibres 12, 34, 175
can think of external objects, which stimula te certain nerves and cause 56, and the like, which make up the optic ne rve and stretch from the back
spirits contained in the cavities to pass into some of the pores, as being of the eye at r, ), 5 to the internal surface of rhe brain at 2, 4, 6. Now
like the fingers of the organist, which p ress certain keys and cause the air assume chat these fibres are so arranged that if the rays coming, for
to pass from the wind-chests into cenain pipes . Now the harmony of an exam ple, from point A of the object happen ro press upon t he back ? f the
organ does not depend on the externally visible arrangement of the pipes eye at point 1, t hey pull the who le of fi bre 1 2 and enlarge the openmg of
o r on th e shape of rhe wind-chests or o ther parn. It depends solely on the tin y tube marked 2. In the same way, the rays which come fro m point
r 66 th ree fac1o rs : rhe air which comes from the bellows, the pipes which B enlarge the opening of the tiny tube 4, and likewise for tbe others. We
make rhe souud, and the distribution of the air in rhe pipes. In jusr the have already described how, depend ing on rhe d ifferent ways in which
same W3)', I would poi nt out, the functions we are concerned wich here the points r, 3, 5 are pressed by these rays, a figure is traced on the back
do not depend at all o n the external shape of the visible pans which
anatomists distinguish in the su bstance of the brain , or o n the shape of
the brain 's cavi ties, but solely on three factors: the spirits which come
from the heart, the pores of the brain through which th ey pass, and the
way in wh ich the spirits are distribu ted in these pores. Thus my sole task
here is ro give an orderly account of the most importa nt features of 1hese
th ree facrors .. . 1
(173) Now, chc substance of the brain being soft and pliant, its cavities
would be very narrow and almost all closed {as they appear in th e brain
of a corpse) if no spirits entered them. But th e source whi ch prod uces
these spirits is usuall y so ab undant chat they enter these cavities in
sufficient qua ntity to bave the force to push our against 1he surrounding
matter and make it expand, th us t ightening all 1he tiny nerve-fibres which
come from it (in the way thar a moderate wi nd ca n inflate the sails of a Fig. L

ship and tighten all the ropes to which the sails are arrnched.) Jr follows
chat at such times rhe machine is d isposed to respond to all the actions of of the eye correspond ing ro t hat of rhe object ABC. Similarly, i1 is
the spirits, and hence ir re presents the bod)' of a man who is awake. Or at obvious that, depending on the different ways in which the tiny tubes 2,
least the spiri ts have enough force to push against some parts of the 4, 6 are opened by the fibres u , 34, 56, ecc., a co rresponding figure must
surrounding matter in this wa)', and so make it tight, while 1he other also be traced o n the internal surface of the brain.
pares rernain free and relaxed (as happens in pans of a sail when rhe wind Suppose next that the spirits which tend to enter each of the tiny tubes
is a little roo wea k to fill it). At such times rhe machine represents the 2, 4, 6, and the like, do nor come ind ifferen tly from all points on the
body of a man who is asleep and w)to has various dreams as he sleeps . surface of gland H, but o nly from certain of these points: those coming
from po int a on this surface, for example, tend co emer tube 2, those
t Tl1ere follows a descri ption o( che ac1imal spirits and how their St:J.tc is affocred by
digt:s1-ion, rcspir;:mon) and other bodil y funccions; of the:: pores of the brain; and of che fro m po ints b and c tend to enter tubes 4 and 6, and likewise for rh e
111ove1nem of th::: spidts chrough the pores. 1 See foornoce 1, p. 4 1 above.
106 Treatise on Man Treatise on ,\!fan l07

r76 others. As a result, at the same in stanr that the openings to these tubes To this end, suppose thar after the spirits leaving gland H have received
expand, the spirits begin to leave the corresponding points 011 the gland the impression of some idea, they pass through tubes i., 4, 6, and the like,
more freely and more rapidly than they did previously. lbus, just as a into the pores or gaps lying between the tiny fibres which make up part B
figure corresponding co that of the object ABC is traced on the internal of the brain. And suppose that the spirits are strong enough to enlarge
surface of the brain according to the different ways in which tubes 2, 4, 6 these gaps somewhat, and ro bend and arrange in various ways any fibres
are opened, likewise that figure is traced on the surface of the gland they encounter, according to rhe various ways in which the spirits are
according to the ways in which the spirits leave from points a, b, c. moving and the different openings of the tubes into which they pass. 178
And note that by 'figures' I mean not only things which somehow Thus they also trace figures in these gaps, which correspond to those of
represent the position of the edges and surfaces of objects, but also tbe objects. Ar first they do this less easily and perfectly than they do on
anythi ng which, as J said above, can give the soul occasion to perceive gland H, but gradually they do it better and bener, as t heir action
movement, size, distance, colours, sounds, smells and other such qual- becomes stronger and lasrs longer, or is repeated more often. Thar is wh)'
ities. And I also incl ude anything that can make the soul feel pleasure, these figures are no longer so easily erased, and why they are preserved in
pain, hunger, thirs t, joy, sadness and other such passions. For it is easy to such a way that the ideas which were previously on the gland can be
understand that tube 2, for example, may be opened in different ways- formed again lo ng afterwards without requiring the presence of the
in one way by the action which I said causes sensory perception of the objects to which they correspond. And this is what memory consists
colo ur red, or of tickling, and in another way by the action which I said in .. . 1
causes sensory perception of the colour white, or of pain; and the spirits But before going on to describe rhe rational soul, l should like you (zoo)
which leave from point a will tend to move towards th is tube in a once again to give a little thought to everything I have sa id about this
different manner according to differences in its manner of o pening, and machine. Consider, in the first place, chat I have supposed in it only
likewise for the others. organs and mcclrnnisms of such a type that you may well believe very
Now among these figures, ir is not those imprinted on rhe externa l similar ones to be present both in us and in many animals which lack
sense organs, or on the in terna l surface of the brain, which should be reason as well. Regarding those which can be seen clearly with the naked
taken ro be ideas - bu t only those which are traced in rhe spirits on the eye, the anatomises have already observed them all. And as for what I
surface of the gland H (where the seat of the imagination and the have said about the way in which the arteries carry the spirits into the
r 77 'common' sense is located). ' T hat is to say, it is only the latter figures head, and about the difference between th e imer nal surface of the brain
which shoul d be taken to be the forms or images which the rational soul and its central substance, the anatomists will, if they simply make closer
united co this machine will consider directly when ir imagines some observations, be able to see sufficient indications of this ro allay any
object or perceives it by the senses. doubts about rhese matters too. Nor will they be able to have doubts
And note that I say 'imagines or perceives by the senses'. For I wish co abour the tiny doors or valves which I have placed in the nerves where
apply the term 'idea' generally co all the impressions which the spirits can they enter each muscle, if they take care ro nore rhar nature generall y has lO 1
receive as they leave gland H. These are to be attributed to rhe 'common' formed such valves ar all the places in o ur bodies where some matter
sense when they depend on the presence of objects; bur they may also regularly goes in and may tend to come our, as at the entrances to the
proceed from many orher causes (as I shall explain later), and rhey shou ld heart, gall-bladder, throat, and large intestine, and ar the main divisions
then be attributed ro rhe imagination. of all the veins . Again, regarding the brain, they will not be able ro
Here l could add something about how rhe traces of these ideas pass imagine anything more plausible than that it is composed of many tiny
through rhe arteries ro the hearr, and chus radiate through all the blood; fibres vario usly interlaced; for, in view of the fact that every type of skin
and about how certain actions of a mother may sometimes even cause and flesh appears to be similarly composed of many fibres or threads, and
such traces to be imprinted on the limbs of the child being formed in her that the same thing is observed in all plants, such fibrous composition is
womb. But I sha ll content myself with telling )'OU more about how the apparcnrly a common property of all bodies that can grow and be
traces a re imprinted on rhe internal parr of the brain [marked Bon Fig. 2)
which is the sear of the memory. I There follows :m :u;c;ount of the way in which the: ~lnimal spirits ronn ideas on the surface
of the pineal g1a11d, :'l.nd prodlu."C l>odily 1110\'emcnts like thosi: of real men, despite the
t Sec 11oce 3, p. .1.00 above. :lbScllC<: o( any soul. See Passions. Pare 1, :m. 1;- 16. 1 1- -1. pp. n;ff, 33 6f below.
108 Treatise on Man

nourished by the unio n and joining togeiher of the minute parts of other
bodies. Finally, as for the rest of th e things I have assumed which cannot Discourse and Essays
be perceived by 3tlY sense, they are all so simple and commonplace, and
also so fe>.'11 in number, that if you compare them with the diverse
composition and marvellous artistry which is eviden t jn the structure of
the visible o rgans, you will have more reason to think I have o mitted
many that arc in us 1han 10 think I have introduced any tha1 are not. And, Translator's preface
knowing tba1 na1urc always ac1s by the simplest and easiest means, you
will perhaps conclude tha1 it is possible to find some which are more
similar to the ones she in foct uses than to those proposed here. Descartes' fi rst published writings, the Disrourse and Essays appeared
I should like you to consider, after 1his, all the functions I baveascribed anonymous() at Leiden in June 1637, under the full tide Discourse 011
20~ 10 ibis machine - such as 1hc digestion of food, the beating o f che bean the Method of rightly co11d11cti11g 011e's reaso11 a11d seeki11g the truth i11
and arteries, the nourishment and growth of the limbs, respiration, the sciences, a11d i11 additio11 the Optics, the Meteorology a11d the
waking and sleeping, 1hc reception by the exte rnal sense organs of light, Geometry, 111hich are essays i11 this Method (Discours de fa Mithode
sounds, smells, tastes, heat and other such qual ities, the imprinting of the po11r bic11 co11d11ire sa raiso11, et chercher la uirite dans /es scie11ces. Pitts
ideas of 1hcse qua lities in the organ of the 'common' sense and the la Dioptrique, /es Mltiores et fa Ceomitrie qui so11t des essais de cette
imagination, 1be retention or stamping of these ideas in the me mory, the Ml thode).
internal moveme nts of the appetites and passions, and finally the This 1itle is an abbreviated form of che more elaborace title chat
external rnovcrncnl~ of all the limbs (movements wh ich a re so appropri Oescarres proposed in a letter co Mersenne of March r636, where he
ate not only to the actions of objects presented to the senses, but also co speaks of 'four trencises, all in French, with the general tide: The Plan of
the passio ns and the impressions found in the memory, that they imitate a 1111ivcrsal Science tvhic/J is capable of raising our 11at11re to its highest
perfectly the movements of a l'Cal man }. I shou ld li ke you to consider that degree of perfectio11. lit additio11, the Optics, the Meteorology a11d the
th ese functions follow fro m die mere arrangement of the machine's Geometry, iu 111hic/J the Author, in order to give proof of his 1111iuers11 f
o rgans every bit as nmurally as the movements of a clock o r other Science, cxplai11s the most abstruse Topics he could cl1oose, a11d does so
autom:ll'On follow from rhe arra ngement of its co unter-weights and i11 s11cl1 a tvay that e11e11 persons who have never studied can understand
wh eels . In o rder to exp lai n these functio ns, then, it is not necessa ry ro t11e111.' When Mcrscnne raised questions abou t the ti tle o f the pub lished
conceive of this machine as ha ving any vegetative or sensitive soul or wo rk, Descartes rep li ed (in a letter of February 1637):
other principle of movement and life, a~ia rt from its blood and its spirits,
I hnve not put Treatise 011 the Method but Discourse on the Metl1od, which
which are agitated by the heat of the fire burning conti nuously in irs amoums to the snmc llS !'reface o r Note co11cer11h1g the Metl1od, in order to show
hc:irt-a fire whi ch has the sa me nature as all the fires chat o ccur in rhnt I do nor intend to teach the method but only to speak about it. For, as c.1n be
inanimate bodies. seen from whnr I say, it consisrs much more in practice than in 1heory. I cal l the
treatises following it Essa)'S 111 this Method because I claim that what they comnin
coul d not ha'e been di>eoYercd without it, and they enable us to recogni1.e '"
value. And I have 111cluded a certain amount of metaphysics, physic' and
mcd1cine in the unroductory Discourse in order to show that the method exrend'
tO every kind of sub1cctmatta.
The Essays were all written or conceived well before the Disco1~rse.
rhns, Oescartes announces his intention to write the Mereorofogy in a
letter co Mersenne of 8 October 16~9, and in the same letter he also
ind rcarc~ hi> wi~h to publish anon ymously, with the author 'hidden
behind the picture ~o as co hear what is said of it'. The Optics is
men11nncd rn a letter of 16~0. and Descartes sent a part of it (probably
10\1
TlO Discourse nnd Essays

the section on relrncrion) to a correspondent in J 6 p . He refers ro it in


The World, which was completed in i633, and in i635 he showed it ro
H uygens, to whom he wrote in November of his plan to publish the
Meteorology with the Optics, and to add ro them a 'preface'. As for the
Geometry, Descartes claimed (i n a letter of 22 February 1638) rhar it was
wri 11en out, and even in part dcvi>ed, while the Meteorolog)' was being D ISCOURSE 0 ' THE M ETH OD AT VI
printed (i.e. in rhc spring of 1636). But he also maintains char he had
known one of its resuhs for twenty years' (letter ro Mersenne, 29 June of rightly conducting one's reason and seeking the trutb i11
16;8), and his correspondence confirms that rhe Geometry contains the sciences
discoveries made prior 10 1630. If this discomse seems too long to be read at a sitting yo11 may divide 1t
In 1644 a Latin translarion of the Discourse and Essays (omitting the i1110 six parts. In the first )'Oii 111ill find various considerations regartling
Geometry) was published at Amsterdam. This translation incorporates the sciences; 111 the second, the prmcipal mies of the method 111hich the
changes made by Dem1t1Cl> himself, but none of chem indicates any a11tbor has so11gh1; in the third, some of the moral mies he bas derived
importanr modification of hb ph ilosophical ' 'icws. Hence che present from this method; in the fourth, the arguments by which he proves the
translation, which comprises the whole of the Discourse and substantial existence of God and tbe b11111a11 soul, wbich are tbe fo1111datio11s of his
excerpts from the Optics, follows only Adam and Tannery's edition of metaphysics: 111 the fifth, the order of the questions in physics that he has
the French original.' investigated, partic1darly tbe explanation of the movement of the heart
R.S. a11d of some other di{fiwlties pertaining to medicine, and also the
1 Sec: Gcncro.l lntroduction, p. x above.
difference betwee11 our soul and that of the beasts; and in tlJe last, the
things he believes necessary i11 order to make {1<rther progress in the
investigation of nature than he bas made, and the reasons which made
him write this discourse.

Part One
Good sense is rhc best distributed thing in the worl d: for everyone thi nks
himself so well endowed w irh it that even those who are the hardest to 2.
please in everything else do not usually desire more of it than they
possess. 111 chis it is unlikely t hat everyone is mistaken. It indicates rather
that the power of judg.ing well and of distinguish ing die true from the
fo lse - which is what we properly call 'good sense' or 'reason' - i>
naturally equa l in all men, and consequently that rhe diversity of our
opinions docs nor arise because some of us are more reasonable rhan
others but solely because we direct our thoughts along different path'
and do not a ttend to the same things. For it is nor enough to have a good
mind; the main thing is 10 apply ic well. The greatest souls are capable of
the greatest \'ices as well as the greatest vircues; and t hose who proceed
hut very slowly can make much grearer progress, if they always follow
1hc right path, than those who hurry and srray from ic.
~or my pan, I have never presumed my mind 10 be in any way more
perfect rhan that of the ordinary man; indted, I have often wished co
h:\\c a~ quick a wir, or a~ ~harp and disrincr an imagination, or as ample
Il l
l tl Discourse 011 t/Je Met/Jod l'arr One 113

or prompt a memory as some otliers. And apa rt from these, I know of no was persuaded that by their means one could acquire a clear and certain
other qualities which se rve ro perfect the mind; for, as regards reason or knowledge of all tbar is useful in life, l was extremely eager to learn chem.
sense, since it is the on ly thing that makes us men an<l distinguishes us But as soon as I had completed the course of study at rhe end of wh ich
from the beasts, I am inclined to believe that it exists whole and complete one is normally admitted to tbe ranks of the learned, I completely
in each of u~. Here I follow the common opinion of the philosophers, changed my opinion. For I found myself beset by so many doubcs and
who say there are differences of degree only between the accidents, and errors that I came to think I had gained nothing from my anempts to
not berwcen the forms (or natures) of i11dividuals of the same species. become educated but increasing recognition of my ignorance. And ycr I
Bur I say without hesitation that I consider myself very fonunare co was :it one of the most famous schools in Europe, where I thought there
have happened upon ccnain paths in mr routh which led me to must be learned men if they existed anywhere on earth. There 1 had
considerations and maxims from which I formed a method whereby, learned everything that the otbers were learning; moreover, not co111en1
it seems to me, I can increase my knowledge graduall)' and raise it linle with the subjects they taught us, I had gone through all the books that fell
by little to the highest point allowed by the mediocrity of my mind and into my hand~ concerning the subjects rhat are considered most abstruse
the short dura tion of my life. Now I always try to lean rowards and un usual. At the same time, I knew how the others judged me, and I
diffidence rather than presumption in the judgements I make about saw 1hat they did not regard me as inferior to my fellow students, even
myself; and when I c:ist a philosophical eye upon the various activicies though several among them were already destined to take the place of
and undertakings of mankmd, there are almost none which I do noc our teachers. And finally, the age in which we live seemed to me to be as
conside r vain and useless. Ncvcnheless I have already reaped such fruirs flourishing, and as rich in good minds, as any before it. Th is made me feel
from this method that I cannot but feel extremely sa tisfied wich the free to judge all o thers by reference to myself and think there was no
progress I th ink l have nlready made in che search for truth, and J cannot knowledge in the world such as I had previously been led to hope for.
but entertain such hopes for the future as to venture the opinion th at if I did not, however, cease to va lu e the exercises done in the Schools. I
an y pure ly h uman occupation hns ~oli d worth and importance, it is the knew tha t the hmguages learned there <lre necessary for unders1a nding
one I have chosen. the works of the ancients; thar the char m of fables awakens the mind,
Yet l may be wrong: perhaps whnt I take for gold and diamon ds is while rhc memorable deeds told in histories uplift it and help ro shape
nothing bu t a bit of copper and glass. J know how much we arc liable co o ne's judgemem if th ey arc read with discretion; that reading good books
err in matters that conce rn us, and also how much the judgements of our is like having a conversation with the most d istinguished men of past ages
friends should be distrusted when they are in our favour. I shall be glad, - indeed, a rehea rsed convcrsalion in which these au1hors revea l to us
4 nevertheless, 1'0 reveal in rh is discourse what parhs I have followed, and o nly che best of t heir thoughts; thar oratory has incomparable powers
to represenr my life in it as if in a picture, so that e1eryone may judge it and bea uties; that poetry bas quite ravishing delicacy and swccmcss; thar 6
for himself; and thus, learning from public response rhe opinions held of mathematics conrains some very subtle devices which serve as much to
it, 1shall add a new means of self-instruction to those I am accuscomcd to satisfy t he cu rious as to further all the arts and lessen man's labours; that
using. writings on morals contain many very usefu l teach ings and exhortations
My present aim, then, is nor to teach the method which everyone must ro virruc; that theology instructs us how to reach heaven; char philosophy
follow in order to direct his rea~on correctly, bur only to reveal how I gives us the means of speaking plausibly about any subject and of
have tried to direct my own. One who presumes co give preceprs must winning the admiration of the less learned; thac jurisprudence, medicine,
1hink himself more skilful than 1hose to whom he gives them; and if he and o ther sciences bring honours and riches to those who cultivate them;
makes the slightest mis1ake, he may be bl amed. Bur I am presenting this and, fin:illy, that it is good to have exami ned all these subjects, even those
work only as 3 history or, if you prefer, a fable in which, among cenain full of superstition and falsehood, in order to know their rrue value and
examples wonhy of imi tation, you will perhaps also find many others guard against being deceived by them.
thar it would be right nor to follow; and so I hope it will be useful for But I thought I had :ilready given enough time to languages and
some withou t being harmful ro any, and that e,eryone will be grateful to likcwi;c ro reading the works of the ancients, both their histories and
me for my lranknes~. their fable~. Jor convcr.ing with those of pasr centuries is much t he S!l me
From my childhood I have been nourished upon lerrers, and because J a~ travelling. Ii i' good to know ;omething of the customs of various
Discourse 011 the Method l'art One lli

peoples, so that we may judge our own more soundl y and not think that cu ltivated for many centuries by che most excellent minds and yet there i~
everything contrary l'O our own ways is ridiculous and irrational, as those still no point in it which is not disputed and hence doubtful, I was not so
who have seen nothing of the world ordinarily do. But one who spends presumptuous as to hope to achieve any more in it than others had done.
too much time navelling even tually becomes a stranger in his own And, considering how many diverse opinions learned men may maintain
country; and one who is coo curious about the practices of past ages on a single question - even though it is impossible for more than one to
usually remains quite ignorant about those of the present. Moreover, be true - I held as well-nigh false e\erything that was merely probable.
7 fables make us imagine many events as possible when they are not. And As for the other sciences, in so far as they borrow thei r principles from
even the most accurate histories, while not altering or exaggerating the philosophy I decided that nothing solid could have been built upon such 9
importance of matrcrs to make them more worthy of being read, at any shaky foundarions. either the honour nor the riches they offered was
rate almost always omit the baser and less notable events; as a result, the enough to induce me to learn them. For my circumstances did not, thanks
ocher events appear in a false light, and those who regulate their conduct co God, oblige me to augment my forcune by making science my
by examples drawn from these works are liable to fal l into the excesses of profession; and although I did not profess to scorn glory, like a Cynic, yet
the knights-errant in our talc~ of chivalry, and conceive plans beyond I thought very liulc of the glory which I could hope 10 acquire only
thei r powers. through false pretences. Finally, as for the false sciences, l th ought thar I
I valued oratory and was fond of poetry; bur I thought both were already knew their worth well enough not to be liable tO be deceived by
gifts of chc mind rather than fruits of study. "Those with the strongest the promises of an alchemist or the predictions of an ast rologer, the tricks
reasoning and the most skill at ordering their thoughts so as to make them of n magician or the frauds and boasts of chose who profess to know
clear and intelligible are always the most persuasive, even if they speak more than they do.
on ly low Breton and h:1ve never learned rhetoric. And those with the That is why, as soon as I was o ld enough to emerge from the control of
most pleasing conceits and the ability to express them with the mosr my teachers, I entirely abandoned the study of .letters. Resolving rn seek
embellishment and swccrnc:;s would still be the best poets, even if they no knowledge ocher than that which could be found in myself or else in
knew nothing o f the th eory of poetry. rhc great book of the world, I spent the rest of my youth travell ing,
Above all I delighted i11 mathemati cs, beca use of the certainty and visiting courts and armies, mixing with people of diverse temperaments
self-evidence of its rcas()nings. l~ut I did not yet notice its rea l use; and and ranks, gn chering various experiences, testing myself i.n the situations
since I thought it wa s o/ service onl y in the mechanical ans, I was which fortune offered me, and at all times reflecting upon whatever came
surprised that nothing more exalted had been built upon such firm and my way so as to derive some profit from it. For it seemed to me rhac much
solid found atio 11s. 0 11 the other hand, I compared the moral writings of more truth could be fo und in the reasonings which a man makes
8 the ancient pagans to very proud and magnificent palaces built only on concerning matters that concern him than in those which some scholar
sand and mud. They extol the virtues, and make them appear more makes in his study about speculative maners. For rhe consequences of the 1o
estimable than anything else in the world; but they do not adequately former will Sl)On punish the man if he judges wrongly, whereas the latter
explain how to recognize a virtue, and often what they call by chis fine have no practical co nsequences and no importance for the scholar except
name is nothing but a case of callousness, or vanity, or desperation, or that perhaps the further they are from common sense the more pride he
parricide. wi ll take in them, since he wi ll have had to use so much more ski ll and
J re\ered our theology, and a~pired as much as anyone else ro reach ingenuity in trying to render them plausible. And it was always my mosr
heaven. But having learned as an establbh~-d fact rhat the way ro heaven earnest desire to learn to distinguish the true from the false in order tO sec
is open no less to the rno)t ignorant than to the mosr learned, and that the clearly into my own aetions and proceed with confidence in this life.
revealed truths which guide us there are beyond our understanding, I h i true that, so long as I merely considered che customs of other men,
would not have dared submit them ro my weak reasonings; and I thought I found hardly any reason for confidence, for I observed in chem al most
rha1 10 undertake an examinotion of them and succeed, I would need to a' much diversity as I had found pre,iousl) among the opinions of
ha,e some cxtraordinar)' aid from heaven and to be more than a mere phtlo ..ophcr,. In fact the greatest benefit I derived from these observa-
man. tion\ w;I\ that they showed me man)' things which, although seeming
Regarding philosophy, I shall say only this: seeing that it has been very c:\trav;111at11 and ridiculous to us, arc neverrheless commonly
u6 Discourse on the Method Part Tzvo 117

accepted and approved in ocltcr great nations; and so I learned not to inconvenience of crimes and qunr rels, could not be so well governed as
believe too firm!)' anything of which I had been persuaded on ly by those who from the beginning of their society have observed the basic
example and custom. Thus I gradually freed myself from many errors laws laid down by some wise law-giver. Similarly, ii is quite cerrain that
which may obscure our narural light and make us less capable of heeding the constitution o f the true religion, whose articles have been made by
reason. Bur after I bad spent some ye~1rs pursuing these studies in the God alone, mu st be incomparably better o rdered tha n all the others. And
book of the world and t rying to gain some experience, I reso lved one day to spea k of human affai rs, I believe that if Sparta was at one time very
to undertake studies within myself too and to use all the powers of my flourishing, this was not bccau~e each of its laws in particular was good
mind in choosing the paths I should follow. In this I have had much more (seeing that some were very strange and een contrary to good morals),
11 success, I th ink, than I would have had if l had never left my coumry or but because they were devised by a single man and hence all tended to the
my books. same end. 1 And so J thought that since the sciences contained in books -
at least those based upon merely probable, not demonstrative, reasoning
Part Two - is compounded and amassed little by little from rhe opinions of man)'
At that rime I was in Germany, where I had been called by the wars that different persons, it never comes so dose to the truth as the simple
arc nor yet ended there. W hile I was returning to the army from the reasoning which a man of good sense naturally make~ concerning 1 3
coronation of the Emperor, the onset of winter detained me in quarters whatever he comes across. So, too, I rcilected that we were all children
where, finding no conversation to divert me and fortunately having no before being men and bad robe governed for some rime by o ur appetites
cares or passions to trouble me, I stayed all day shut up aloi~ in a and our teachers, which were often opposed to each other and neither of
stove-heated room, where I was completely free to converse with myself which, perhaps, always gave us rhe best advice; hence I thought it
abo ut my own thoughts. 1 Among the fil'st that occurred to me was the virtually impossib le tbat our judgements should be as unclouded and firm
thought that there is not usually so much perfection in works composed of as they would have been if we had had the fll ll t1se of our reaso n from the
several partS and produced by various diffcrcnr craftsmen as in the works moment of our birth, and if we had always been guided by it alone.
of one man. Thus we see chat buildings underta1'en and completed by a Admitted ly, \\C never sec people pulling down all rhe houses of a city
single architect arc usually more attractive and better planned than those for the sole purpose of rebuilding them in a different sryle to make the
which several have tried to patch up by adapting o ld walls bui lt for streets more attractive; bllt we do sec man y individu als having their
different purposes. Again, ancient cities which have gradually grown houses pull ed down in order 10 rebuild th em, some even being fo rced to
from mere villages into large towns are usually ill-proportioned, com- do so when the houses are in danger of falling down and their
pared with those orderly towns which planners lay out as the)' fancy on foundations are insecure. This example convinced me that it would be
level ground. Looking at the bui ldings of the former individually, you unreasonable for an individual to plan to reform a state by changing it
wi ll often find as much art in them, if not mo re, than in those of the from the foundations up and overturni ng it in order to set it up again; or
latter; but in view of their arrangement-a tall one here, a small one there again for him 10 plan to reform the body of the sciences or the established
u - and the way they make the streets crooked and irregular, you would order of teaching them in the schools. But regarding the opinions to
say it is chance, rather th:111 the will of men using reason, that placed which I had hitherto given credence, I thought that I could not do better
them so. And when you consider that t here have always been certain than undertake to get rid of them, all at one go, in order to replace them
officials whose job is to see that private buildings embellish public plnces, afterwards with better ones, or with the same ones once I had squared 14
you will understand how difficult it is to make something perfect by them with the standards of reason. [ firmly be lieved that in this way J
working only on what others have produced. Again, I thought, peoples would succeed in conducting my life much better than if I built on I)' upon
who have grown graduall y from a half-savage ro a civilized scare, and old foundarions and relied only upon principles that I had accepted in my
have made their laws only in so far as they were forced to hy the youth without evcl' examining whether th ey were true. for although I
J In 1619 Desnm:s omended the coronation c>f Ferdinand JI 1n Frankfurt, which took noted various difficulties in this undertaking, they were not insu rmount
pl..~from 20 July co 9 XptC'mbtt, The mC"ntiontd army \\as that of the Catholic Oukc able. Nor could rhey be compared with those encountered in che reform
M:ax1milian o( 8Jv.rna. It l~ rhoujt.ht th.1: Descartn w.u detamed in .1 villagt ne:.r Ulm.
His day of d11;1ry reOcctlOO in a sto,c-hc.utd room "as. aca>rding to 8mlltt,
10 No\embcr 16.19. Sec above, p. ~- 1 6)' tt.ulmon the consrinmon of Sp21111 \\<JS llrtnbuted ro l.ycurgus.
u8 Discourse 011 tbe Metl1od l'art Two rr9

of even minor matters affecting public institutions. These large bodies are then I have recognized through my travels that those with views quite
too difficult to raise up once overthrown, or even to hold up once they contrary to ours are nor on that accoun.t barbarians or savages, but that
begin to totter, and their fall cannot bur be a hard one. Moreover, any ma11y of them make use of reason as much or more th an we do. 1
imperfections they may possess - and their very diversity suffices to thougbc, too, how the same man, with the same mind, if brought up from
ensure that many do possess them - have doubdess been much smoothed infancy among the French or Germans, develops otherwise than he
over by custom; and custom has even prevented or imperceptibly would if he had always lived among the Chinese or canniba ls; and how,
corrected many imperfections that prudence could not so well provide even in our fashions of dress, the very thing that pleased us ten years ago,
against. Final ly, it is almost always easier to pu t up with their imperfec- and will perhaps please us again ten years hence, now stri kes us as
tions than to change them, just as it is much better to follow the main extravagant and ridiculous. Thus it is custom and example that persuade
roads that wind through mountains, which have graduall y become us, rather than any certain knowledge. And yet a majority vote is
smooth and convenient th rough frequent use, than to tr)' to take a more worthl ess as a proof of truths that are at all difficult to discover; for a
direct route by clambering over rocks and descending to t he foot of single man is much more likely to hit upon them tha n a group of people. I
precipices. was, then , unable to choose an)one whose opinions struck me as
That is why I cannot by any means approve of those meddlesome and preferable to those of all ochers, and I found myself as it were forced to
restless characters who, called neither by birth nor by fortune to the become my own guide.
management of public affairs, are yet forever thi nking up some new But,_like a man who walks alone in the dark, I resolved to proceed so
i 5 reform. And if I thought this book contained the slightest ground for slowly, and to use such circumspection in all things, rhat even if I made 1 7
suspecting me of such folly, I wou ld be very reluctant to permit its but little progress I should at least be sure nor co fal l. Nor would I begin
publication. My plan has never gone beyond trying to reform my own rejecting completely any of the opinions which may have slipped into my
though ts and construct them upon a foundation which is all my own. If I mind without having been introduced there by reason, until I had first
am sufficiemly pleased with my work ro present you with this sample of spent enough time in planning the work I was undertaking and in seeking
it, this does not mean that I wou ld advise anyone to imirnre it. Tliose on the trne method of attaining the knowledge of everything within my
whom God has bestowed more of his favours wil l perhaps have higher mental capabiliries.
aims; but J fear that even my aim may be too bold for many people. The When I was younger, my ph ilosophical swdies had included some
simple resolution to abandon all the opinions one has hitherto accepted is logic, and my mathematical studies some geometrical anal ysis and
not an example that everyone ought to follow. The world is la rgely algebra. These three arts or sciences, it seemed, ougbt to contribute
composed of two types of minds for whom it is quite unsuita ble. First, somethirJ.g to my plan. But on further exam ination I observed with regard
there are those who, believing themse lves cleverer than they are, cannot to logic chat syllogisms and most of its other techniq ues arc of less use for
avoid precipirate judgements and never have the patience to d irect all learni ng things than for explaining co others the things one already
their thoughts in a n orderly manner; consequently, if they once took the knows or even, as in the art of Lully, for speaking without judgement
liberty of doubting the principles they accepted and of straying from the about matters of which one is ignorant. 1 And although logic does contain
common path, cbey could never stick to the track that must be taken as a many excellent and true precepts, these are mixed up wi th so many
short-cut, and they would remain lost all their lives. Secondly, there are others which are harmfu l or superfluous that it is almost as difficult to
those who have enough reason or modesty to recogn ize that they are less distinguish them as it is to carve a Diana or a Minerva from an unhcwn
capable of distinguishing the nue from the false than certain others by block of marble. As to the analysis of the ancients and the algebra of the
whom they can be taught; such peop le should be content to follow the moderns, they cover only highly abstract matters, which seem to have no
opinions of these others rather than seek better opinions themselves. use. Moreover the former is so closely tied to the examination of figures
x6 for myself, I would undoubtedly have been coumed among the latter if that it cannot exercise the intellect without greatly tiring the imagination; 18
I bad had on ly one teacher o r if 1 had never known the differences that and the lotter is so C<>nfined to certain rules and symbols that the end
have always existed among the opinions of the most learned. Bm in my result is a confused and obscure art whicb encumbers the mind, rather
college days I discovered chat noching can b~ imagined which is too H.1y111ond 1.ully (1 :t.11-11 i 5) was a Cacal:\n 1heologian whose Ars Mag11a purported tc>
strange or incredible to have been said by some philosopher; and si nce prC1vidC' :l u11ivcro;:ll mechocl of disco\lery.
12.0 Discourse on the Method Part Trvo I 2.1

than a science which cultivate~ it. For this reason I though t I had to seek thought it best to examine on ly such proportions in general, su pposing
some other method comprising tbe advantages of these three subjects but them to hold only between such items as would help me to know them
free from their defects. Now a multiplicity of laws often prO\'ides an more easily. Ar the same time I would nor restrict them to these items, so
excuse for vices, so that a state is much better governed when it has but that I could apply them the better afterwards to whatever others they
few laws which are strictly obsexved; in th e sa me way, I thought, in place might fit. Next I obse rved that in o rder to know these propo rtions I
of the large number of ru les that make up logic, I would find the wou ld need so meti mes to co nsider them separa tely, and som eti mes
following four to be sufficient, provided that J made a strong and merely to keep them in mind or understand many together. And I
unswerving resolution never to fail to obsene them. thought that in order the better to con;idcr them separately I should
The first was never to accept anything as true if I did not have evident suppose them to hold between lines, beca use I did not find anything
knowled ge of its t ruth : that is, ca refully to avoid precipitate conclu sio ns simpler, nor anythi ng tha t I c:ould represen t mo re d istinctl y to my
and preconceptions, and to include no thing more in my judgements than imagi nation and senses. Bur in o rder to keep them in mind o r understand
what presented itself to my mind so clea rly and so distinctly that I had no severa l togerher, I thought it 111.-ccssary to designate rhcm by the briefcM
occasion to doubt it. possible symbol~. Jn this way I would take over all that is best in
The second, to d ivide each of the difficulties I examined into as many geometrical ana lys is and in algebra, using the one to correct all the
parts as possible and as may he required in o rder co reso lve them bener. defects of the orhcr.
The third, to direct my thoughts in an orderly manner, by beginning In fact, I vem ure to say tha t by S[ricd)' observing the few rul es I had
with the simplest and most easi ly known objects in order to ascend little chosen, I became very adept at unra\'elling all the questions which fall
by little, step by step, to knowledge of the most complex, and by supposing under these two sciences. So much so, in fact, that in the two or three
r9 some order even among objects that have no na tural order of precedence. months I spent in examini ng them - beginning with the simplest and
And the las1, througho ut to make en umerations >O complete, a nd most general and using each tru th I found as a rule fo r finding further 21
reviews so comprehensive, that I could be sure of leaving nothing out. truths - not only did l solve many problems which l had previously
Those long chains composed of very simple and easy reasonings, which though t very difficult, but also It seemed to me towards the end that even
geometers customarily use to arrive at their most d ifficult demonstra- in those cases where I was still in the dark I could determine by what
tions, had given me occasion to suppose that all the thi ngs which ca n fo ll me~ns and to wha t extent it was possib le to Jiod a solution. This claim
under hu man knowledge arc interconnected in the same way . 1\nd I wil l not appear mo arrogant if you consider that since there is o nly one
rhought thar, provided we refrain from accepting anything as true which rrurh concerning any matter, whoever discovers this tru th knows as
is not, and always keep to the order required for ded ucing one thing from much about it as can be known. For example, if a child who has been
another, th ere can be nothing too remote to be reached in the end or too t:iught arithmetic does a sum following the rules, he can be sure of having
we ll hidden to be d iscovered. I had no great d ifficulty in deciding which foun d everything the human mind ca n discover regarding the sum he was
things to begin with, for I knew already that it must be with the simplest considering. In short, the method which instructs us t0 follow t he correct
and most easily known . Reflecti ng, too, chat of aU those who have hitherto order, and to enumerate exactly all the rcJe,ant factors, contains
sought after truth in the sciences, mathematicians alone ha.-e been able to everything that gives certainty to the rules of arithmetic.
fi nd :rny demonstr:Hions -tbat is to say, certain and eviden t reasoni ngs- I But what pleased me most about this method was that by following it I
had no d ou bt tlrnt I shou ld begin with the vel'y things 1hat they studied. was sure in every case to use my reason, if not perfectl y, at least as well as
From this, however, the only advanrage I hoped to gai n was to accustom was in my power. Moreover, :is I practised the meth od J felt my mind
my mind ro nourish itself on truths and not to be satisfied with bad gradually become accustomed to conceiving its objects more clearly and
reasoning. Nor did I have any intention of trying to learn al l the special d1'1inctly; and since I did nor restrict the method to any particular
sciences co mmonly called 'mathematics'. 1 for I saw that, despite the 'uhjcc1-matter, I ho ped to apply it as usefully to the prob lems of the other
i o diversity of ~heir objects, they agree in considering nothing but the sciences as I had t<> those of algebra. Not that I would have dared to t ry at
various relations or proportions that hold between these objects. And so I !11~ outset to examine every problem that might arise, for that wou ld
1 ThtSC arc subjem with a chconric2I ba.s1s an m:nhcmaocs, such as astronomy, music Jnd 11,df h;ivc been contrarr to the order which the method prescribes. But
OpC'ICS, ohwrving thJt the principle> of these science~ must all be derived from
12.2. Disco11rse on tbe Method Port Three J 2.J

u philosophy, in which I had not yet d iscovered any certain ones, I thought probably the best (excess being usuall y bad), and also so that if I made a
th3t first of all I had co try to establish some certain principles in mistake, I should depart less from rhe right path than I would if I chose
philosophy. And si nce this is the most imporrant cask of all, and the one one extreme when I oughr ro have pursued the other. In particular, I ~4
in which precipitate conclusions and preconceptions arc most to be counted as excessive all promises by which we give up some of our
fc:1red, I thought chat I ought not try accomplish it until I had reached a freedom . It was not that I disapproved of laws which remedy the
more matu re age than twencychree, as I then was, and until I had firsr inconstancy of weak minds by allowing us to make vows or conrracts
bpCnt a lo ng time in preparing myself for it. l had to uproot from my that oblige perseverance in some worthy project (or even, for the security
mind all the wrong opinions I had prcviollsly accepted, amass a variety of of commerce, in some indifferent one) . Bur I saw nothing in the world
experiences to serve as rhe subjccrmattcr of In)' reasonings, and practise which remained always in the same stare, and for my part I was
constantly my selfprescribed method in order to strengthen myself more determined to make my judgement> more and more perfect, nnber 1han
nnd more in its use. worse. For these reasons I thought J would be sinning against good sense
if I were to rake my pre,,ious :1pproval of something as obliging me to
regard it as good later on, when it had perhaps ceased co be good o r I no
Part Three
lo nger regarded it as such.
Now, before starting to rebuild your house, it is not enough simply ro My second max im was to be as firm and decisive in my actions as I
pull ir d own, to make provision for materials and archirecrs (or else rrain could, and to follow even the most doubtful opinions, once I had adopted
yourself m arcbirecrure), and ro have carefully drawn up the plans; you them, with no less constancy than if they had been quire certain. In this
must also provide yourself wi th some other place where you can live respect I would be imitating a traveller who, upon finding himself lost in
comfonably while build ing is in progress. Likewise, lest I should remain a forest, should not wander about turning this way and t hat, and still less
indecisive in my acrions while rea~on obliged me to be so in my stay in o ne place, bur should keep walking as straight as he can in one
judgcmenrs, and in order to live as happily as I could during this rime, I direction, never changing it for sl igh t reasons even if mere chance made
formed for myself a provisional moral code consisting o f just three or him choose it in the first place; for in this way, even if he does not go
four maxims, which I sliou ld like to tell you about. exactly where he wishes, he wi ll at least end up in a place where he is 2.5
z3 T he first was ro obey the laws and customs of my country, holding likely ro be better off rhan in rhc middle of a forest. Similarly, since in
constantly ro the religion in which by God's grace J had been instructed everyday life we must o fLen act without delay, it is a most certain truth
from my ch ildhood, and governing myself in all other matters accord ing that when it is not in our power to discern rhe truest opinions, we must
to the most moderate and least ext reme opinions - the opinions follow the mosr probable. Even when no opinions appear more probable
commonly accepted in practice b)' che most sensible of those with whom I tha n any others, we muse still adopt some; and having done so we must
should have to live. For I had begun at th is time to coum my own then regard them not as dou brful, from a pracrical poi nr of view, but as
opinions as worthless, because I wished to submit them all to examina most rrue and certa in, on the grounds that the reason which made us
rion, and so I was sure I could do no bcner than follow those of the most adopt them is itself true and certain. By following chis maxim I could free
sensible men. And although there may be men as sensible among the myself from all the regrets and remorse which usually trouble the
Persians o r Chinese as among ourselves, I thought it would be most consciences of those weak and faltering spirits who allow themselves to
useful for me to be guided by those with whom I should have to live. I set our on some supposedly good cou rse of action which later, in their
rhoughr too that in order to d iscover what opinions they really held l had inconstancy, they judge to be bad.
to attend to what they did rather than what they said. For with ou r My third maxim was to try always to master myself rather than
declining standards of behavio ur, few people are willing to say every fo rtune, and change my des ires rather rhan the o rder of the world. In
thing that rhey believe; and besides, many people do nor know what they general I wou ld becom e accustomed to believi ng that nothing lies entirely
be lieve, since believing something an d kno wing that one bel ie\'es it arc within our power exce pt o ur thoughts, so that after doing our best in
different acrs of thinking, and rhc one often occurs without the orher. dc~ling with matters external to us, whatever we fail to achieve is
Where many opinions were equall y well accepted, I chose on ly the most . h,olutcly imposs ible so far ~s we are concerned. This alo ne, L tho ught,
moderate, both because these arc always the easiest to act upo n and would be sufficient to preven t me from desiring in future something I
Discourse 011 the Method

could nor get, and so 10 make me content. For our wil l naturally cends 10 b~>en following a path by which I thought I was sure to acquire all t he
~6 desire only what our incellecr represents to it as somehow possible; and knowledge of whi ch J was capable, and in this way all t he true goods
so ic is certain that if we consider all external gooJs as equall y beyond within my reach. l'or since our wi ll rends to pursue or nvoid only what
o ur power, we shall not regret the al>sence of goods wh ich seem to be our o ur intellect represents as good or bad, we need only to judge well in
birthright when we are deprived of them through no fault of our own, order to act well, and to judge as well as we ca n in order to do our best -
any more than we regret nor po~sessing the kingdom of China or of that is to say, in o rder to acquire all the virtues and in general all the
Mexi co. Maktng a virtue of necessity, as they say, we shall not desi re 10 ot_hcr goods we can acquire. And when we are certain of this, we canno1
be healthy when ill or free when imprisoned, any more tha n we now fail 10 be happy.
desire to have bodies of a material us indesuucti ble as diamond or wings Once I had established these maxims and ser them on o ne side together
co fly like the birds. But I admit ch at it takes long practice and repe:md with the truths of faith , wh ich ha ve always been foremost among my
meditation to become accustomed to seeing everything in this light. In beli efs, I judged that I could freely undertake to rid myself of <111 the rest
chis, I believe, lay the secrec of those phi losophers who in earlier times of my opinio ns. As I expected to be nble to achieve ch is more readily by
were able co escape from the dominion of forrunc and, despite suffering talking with other men rhan by staying shut up in the stove-heated room
and poverry, rival their gods in happiness. Through constant reflection where I had had all these thoughts, I set out on my travels again before
upon the limits prescribed for them by nature, they became perfectly the end of winter. Throughout the following nine years I did nothing but
convinced that nothing was in their power but their thoughts , and chis roam about in the world, trying robe a spectator rathe r than an actor in
alone was sufficient co prevent them from being actrncted to orher thi ngs. all the comedies that are played om there. Rcnecting especially upon rhe
Their mastery over their thoug hts was so absolute that th ey had reason to points in every subject which might make it suspect and g ive occasion for
count themselves richer, more powerful, freer and happier than other us to make mistakes, I kept uprooting from my mind any errors that
men who, because they lack this philosophy, never ach ieve such mastery migh~ previously have slipped into it. In doing this I was not copying the i9
~7 ove: all their desires, however favoured by nature and fortune they may sceptics, who doubt only for rhe sake of doubring and pretend to be
be. always undecided; on the contrary, my whole aim was to reach certainty
Finally, to conclude chis moral code, I decided to review cbe various - to cast aside the loose earth and sand so as to come upo n rock o r clay.
occupations wh ich men have in this life, in order to try ro choose the best . In this I think I was quire successful. l'or I cried co expose th e falsity or
Without wishing to say anything about the occupations of ochers, I uncerta inty of th e propositions I was exam ining by clear and certain
thought I could do no better rh ~n to continue with the very one I was argumenrs, not by wea k conjectures; and I never cnco umered any
engaged in, and devote my whole life to cultivating my reason and proposition so doubtful that I could nor draw from it some quite certain
advancing as for as I could in the knowledge of the crmh, following the ~onclu~ion, if only the conclusion rhar ii contained nothing cen ain. And,
method I had prescribed for myself. Since beginning co use this method I 1ust as m pulling down an o ld house we usually keep rhe remnants for use
had felt such extreme contentment that I did not thi nk o ne could enjoy in buildi ng a new one, so in destroying all those opinions of mine that I
any sweeter o r pu rer one in this life. Every day I di scovered by its means judged ill-founded I made various observations and acquired many
truths which, it see med co me, were q uite imporrnnt and were generall y expe riences which I have since used in establi shing mo re certain opin-
unknown by other men; and rhe sati sfaction tbq gave me so filled my io ns. Moreover, I contin ued practi sin g rhe method I had prescribed for
mind that norhing else mattered to me. Besides, the sole basis of the myself. Besides raking care in gcneml to conduct all my thoughts
foregoing three maxims was the plan I had to contin ue Ill)' self according to its rules, I set aside some hours now and again to apply it
instruction. for since God has given each of us a light 10 distinguish truth more parricularly to mathematical problems. I also applied it to certain
from falsehood, I sho uld not have thought mysel f obliged co rest content o ther problems which l could pur into something like mathematica l form
with the opinio ns of others for a single moment if I had not intended in hy detaching rhern from all the principles o f the other sciences, wh ich I
due course to exa mine rhem usi11g my own judgement; and I could not d id not find sufficiently secure (ns you will see I have do ne in many
have avoided having scruples about followi ng these opinions, if I had not prohlems discussed la ter in this book). Th us, while appearing to live like 30
28 hoped to lose no opporruni ty to discover better one;., in case there were 1ho-.c co ncerned only IO lead an agreeable and blameless life, who take
any. Lastly, I could nor ha,e limited my desires, or been happy, had I nor <.ire to keep their pleasures free from 'ic<.'S, and who engage in every
12.6 Discourse 011 the i\lletbod Part Four

honest pastime in order to enjoy 1heir leisure wi thout boredom, I never the vcr_r opposite and reject as if absolutely false everything in which I
sropped pursuing my projecr, and I made perhaps more progress in rhe could 1magme the least doubt, in order to see if I was left believing
knowledge of the rru1b rhan I would have if I had done nothing bur read anythmg that was entirely indubitable. Thus, because our senses some 2.
3
books or mix with men of letters. times deceive us, I decided to suppose rhat nothing was such as they led
Those nine years passed by, however, wilhou t my taking any side us to i111agine. And since there are men wbo make mistakes in reasoning,
regarding 1he qucsrions which arc commonly debarcd among the learned, commiuing logical fallacies concerning rh e simplest questions in gcornct
or beginning to search for rhe foundations of any philosophy more ry~ and because I judged char I was as prone co error as anyone else, I
certain than the commonly accepted one. The example of many line rCJCCtcd as unsound all the arguments I had previously taken as demon
intellects who had previously had this project, bu1 had nor, I thought, strative proofs. Lasl'ly, considering that rhc very thoughts we have while
mer with success, made me imagine rhe d ifficulties IO be so g rea1 1ha1 I awake may also occur while we sleep wirhout any of them being at the
would not have dared to embark upon it so soon if I had not noticed that that time 1rue, I resolved to pretend that all the things that had ever
some people were spreading rhc rumour that I had already co mplercd it. I entered my mind were no more true than the illusions of my dreams. Bm
c:innot say whar basis they had for th is opinion. If l contributed anything imme~iatel y I noticed that while l was trying th us co think everything
to it by my conversation, it must have been beca use I confessed my false, 1~ was necessary that I, who was thinking this, was something. And
ignorance more ingenuously than is customary for chose with a little observing that this mnh '/am thi11king, therefore I exist' was so firm and
learning, and perhaps al so because I d isplayed the reasons I had for sure tha1 all the most extravagant suppositio ns of the sceptic~ were
doubting many things which others regard as certai n, rarhcr than because incapable of shaking it, I decided that I could accept it without sernple as
I boasted of some learning. Bur as I was honest enough not to wish to be 1he firs1 principle of the philosophy I was seeking.
taken for what I was not, I thought I had to rry by every means to beco me Next I examined anentivcly what I was. I saw that while I could
} r worthy of the reputation thar was given me. Exacrly eight years ago this pretend that I bad no body and tha1 there was no world and no place for
desire made me resolve ro move away from any place where I might ha"c me to be m, I cou ld not for al l that pre1end that I d id not exist. I saw on
acquaintances and rerire to this count ry, where the Jong duration ol the the contrary that from the mere fact 1har I thought of doubting the trurb
war has led to the esrabhshment of such order thac the armies maintained of orher chings, ir followed quite evidently and certainly that I existed
here seem to serve o nly to make the enjoyment of rhe fruits of peace all :-Vhereas if I had merely ceased thinking, even if everything else I had eve; >3
r+ie more sccure. 1 Living here, amidst this great mass of busy people imagined had been true, l should have had no reason to believe that I
who are more concerned with their own affairs than curious about 1hosc existed. From rhis I knew I was a substance whose whole essence or
of others, I have been able to lead a life as solitary and withdrawn as if I nature is simply to think, and which does oot require any place, or
were in the most remote desert, while lacking none of rhe comforts found ~epend on any m~rcrial thing, in order to exist. Accordingly this 'I' - that
in chc most populous ci ties. 1s, t h_e soul by which 1 am what I am - is entirely d istinct from rhe body,
and u1deed is easier to know chan the body, and would nor fail to be
whatever i1 is, even if the body did nor exis1.
Part Four After this I considered in general what is required of a proposition in
I do not know whether I should tell yo u of the first med itations that I had order for it to be true and certain; for since l had just found one that I
1here, for chcy are perhaps coo metaphysical and uncommon for every kne\~ ro .be such, I thought rhat I o ught also to know what this certainty
one's taste. And yet, to make ir possible to judge whether the founda11ons consists m. I observed that there is nothing at all in the proposition 'f am
I have chosen are firm enough, I am in a way obliged ro speak of them. thinking, therefore I exist' ro assure me that I am speaking the truth,
For a long time I had observed, as noted above, that in practica l life it is except th:u I see very clearly t hat in o rder co th ink it is necessary to exist.
sometimes necessary 10 act upon opinions which one knows to be quite So I decided that I could take it as a general rule that the rhings we
uncertain just as if they were indubitable. But since I now wished ro 'oncc1,e very clearly and very distincrly are all true; only there is some
devote myself so lely co rhe search for truth, I thought it necessa ry to do difficulty in recognizing which are the th ings thar we distinctly conceive.
1 Descants scnlcd in Holland in 16.i.9. '1'1le w:u wa; 1ha1 conducted b)' the Unit~d Ncx1, ieflecting upon the fact that l was doubting and tha1 conse
Provinces tpm.sr Spain from 1571 ro 1648. <1ucn rl y my being was nor wholl y perfect (for I saw clearly that ir is a
IZ.8 Discourse 011 the Method Part Four

greater perfection to know than to doubt), l decided to inquire into the not be a perfection in God to be composed of these two natu res, n11d
source of my ability ro think of some1bing more perfect than l was; and l consequently that he was not composed of them. But if rhe re were a11y
H recogn ized very clearly rh:11 this had to come from some narure that was bodies in the world, or any intelligences or other narures that were not
in foct more perfecr. Regarding the thoughts I had of many ocher thi ngs wholly perfect, rhcir being must depend on God's power in such a 36
outside me, like the heavens, the earth, light, heat and numerous others, manner chat they could nor subsisr for a single moment wirhout him.
I had no such difficulry in knowing where they came &om. For I observed After thar, wbhing to s~-ek other trurhs, I ronsidered the object studied
nothing in them that seemed to make them superior to me; and so I could by geomerers. I conceived of this as a continuous body, or a space
believe char, if they were true, 1hey depended on my nature in so far as it indcfinirely extended in length, breadth and heighr or depth, and divisible
had any perfection, and if thcr were not true, I got them from nothing - imo differem pans which may have \'arious shapes and sizes, and may be
in other words, rhey were in me beca use I had some defect. But rhe same moved or transposed in every way: for aU this is assumed by geometers in
could not hold for the idea of a being more perfect rhan my own. For ii their object of srudy. I wem through some of their simpler dernonsrra-
was manifestly impossible 10 gee this from norhing; and I could nor have tions and noted that the grear certainty which everyone ascribes 10 them
got it from myself s111ce it is no less contradictory that the more perfect is founded solely on their being conceived as evident (in accordance with
should result from the less perfect, and depend on ii, than 1ha1 somerhing the rule stated above). I noted also thar t here was nothing at all in these
should proceed from nothing. So there remained only the possibility that dcmons1ra1ions which assured me of the existence of rheir object. For
the idea had been pur inro me by a narure rruly more perfect rhan I was example, I saw clearly that rhe three angles of any given rriangle must
:ind even possessing in irsclf all the perfections of which I could have any equal two righr angle;; yer for all chat, I saw nothing which assured me
idea, 1ha1 is - 10 explain myself in one word - by God. To this I added char rhere existed any triangle in the world. Whereas when l looked again
chat since I knew of some perfections chm I did nor possess, I was nor the at the idea I had of a perfect being, l found char th is included existence in
only being which cx isred (here, by your leave, l shall freely use some the same way a> - or eve n more evidently than - the idea of a triangle
scholastic terminology), but rherc had of necessity to be some other, more includes the equali ty of irs th ree angles to two right angles, or the idea of
perfect being on which I depended and from which I had acquired all thar n sphere incl udes rhc equid istance of all the points on the surface from
J possessed. For if l had existed alone and independently of every o rhcr the centre. T hus I concl uded that it is at least as certain as any
35 being, so that I had got from myself what Jin lc o f rhe perfect being l geometrical proof that God, who is ch is perfect being, is or exists.
parcicipated in, then for the sa me reason J could have got from m)self Bur many arc convinced that rhere is some difficulty in knowing God, 37
everyth ing else I knew I lacked, and rhus been myself infinite, eternal, and even in knowing whar their soul is. The reason for this is that th ey
immu t~ble, omniscient, omnipotent; i11 shorr, I could have had all t he never ra ise rhcir minds above things wbich can be perceived hy the
perfections which I could observe to be in God . For, according to the senses: they are so used to ch inking of th ings onl) by imagining them
arguments I have jusr advanced, in order to know the narure of God, as (a way of th inking specially suited to material things) that whateve r is
for as 111)' own nature was capable of knowing it, I had only co consider, unimaginable seems to rhem unintelligible. This is sufficiently obvious
for each thing of which I found in myself some idea, whether or not ii from rhe fact that even the scholastic philosophers rake it as a maxim chm
was a perfecrion 10 possess it; and I was sure that none of those which t here is nothing in rhe intellect which has not previously been in the
indicated any imperfection was in Cod, but that all the others were. Thus -.nses; and yet ii is certain tliat rhe ideas of God and of the soul have
I saw rhar doubt, inconsr;incy, sadness and the like could not be in God, never been in rhc senses. It seems to me thar trying to use one's
since I myself would have been very glad to be free from them. Besides imJginarion in order 10 understand these ideas is like trying 10 use one's
chis, I had ideas of many corporeal things capable of being perceived by eyes in order to hear sounds or smell odours - though rhere is chis
the senses; for even if I were 10 suppo~ that I was dreaming and char difference, that the sense of sighr gives us no less assurance of the reality
whatever I saw or imagined was false, yet I could not deny that rhe ideas of ll\ ob1ect> than do the senses of smell and hearing, while neirher our
were rruly in my mind. Bur smce l had already recognized very dearly 11n.1g11i.uuin nor our >enses could ever assure us of anything wirhour the
from my own ca~c tha1 the intellecrual narure is distinct from the 111ttrVl'11tion of our intellect.
corporeal, and as I observed th01t all composition is evidence of depend l'in.1lly, 1f there arc ;ull people who are not sufficiently convinced of
ence and chat dependence is manifestly a defect, I concluded that it could thl' l"Xl\ll'll<c of God .tnd of rhcir soul by rhc arguments I have proposed,
130 Discourse 011 the Method Part Vive 13 1

I would have them know that everything else of which they may think everything coloured yellow, or when stars or other very distant bodies
themselves more sure- such as cheir having a body, there being stars and appear to us much sma ller than they arc. For after all, whether we are
an earth, and the like - is less certain. For although we have a moral awake or asleep, we ough t never to let o urselves be convinced except by
38 certainty1 about these things, so chat ir seems we cannot doubt tbem the evidence of o ur reason. le will be observed that I say 'our reason', not
without being extravagant, nevertheless when it is a question of meta- 'ottr imagination' o r 'ou r senses'. Even though we sec the sun very 40
physical certainty, we cannoc reasonably deny rhac there are adequate clearly, we must not judge on that account that it is only as large as we
grounds for nor being entirely su re about t.h cm. We need only observe sec 11; and we can distinctly imagine a lion's head on a goat's body
that in sleep we may imagine in the same way thai we have a different without having to conclude from this that a chimera exists in the world.
body and see different stars and a different earth, without there being any For reason docs nor insist that what we thus see or imagine is true. But ir
of these th ings. For ho w do we know that the thoughts which come co us does insist char all our ideas or notions must ha,e some foundation of
in dreams arc :iny more false than the others, seeing that they are often no truth; for orherwisc it would nor be possible char God, who is all-perfect
less li,ely and distinct? However much the best minds study rhis and all-truthful, should have placed chem in us. And our reasonings are
question, I do not believe they will be able to give any reason sufficient ro never so evident or complete in sleep as in waking life, although
remove chis doubt unless they presuppose the existence of God. For in the s_ometimcs our imaginin~ in sleep are as liely and distinct as in waking
first place, what I t0ok just now as a rule, namely that everything we Ide, or more so. Hence reason also demands chat, since our choughcs
conceive very clearly and very distinccly is true, is assured only for the ca nnot all be rrue because we are not wholly perfect, what truth t hey do
reasons that God is or exists, that he is a perfect being, and that possess must inevitabl y be fo und in the thoughts we have when awake
everythin g in us comes from him. It follows chat ou r ideas or notions, rather than in our drea ms. '
being rea l rhings and coming from God, cannot be anythi ng but true, in
ever)' respect in which they are clear and distinct. Thus, if we frequently Part Five
have ideas containing some falsity, this can happen only because there is
something confused and obscure in chem, for in that respect they I would gladly go on and reveal the whole chain of ocher truths that I
participate in nothingness, rhac is, they are in us in this confused scate deduced from these first ones. But in order co do chis I would have to
only because we are not wholly perfocc. And iris evident char it is no less discuss many questions char are bei ng debated among the learned, and I
J9 contrad ictory that falsiry or imperfection as such shou ld proceed from do not wish to quarrel with them. So it wi ll be better, I thin k, fo r me not
God than thM truth or perfccrion should proceed from noth ingness. But ro do this, and merely co say io general what these quescions are, so as to
ii we did not know tbat everything real and true within us comes from a let those who are wiser decide whether it would be useful for the public
perfect and infinite being then, however clear and distinct our ideas were, ~o be infom1~ more specifically about them. I have always remained firm 41
we would have no reason to be su re that they had rhe perfection of being m the_ resoluuon I had taken to assume no principle other than the one I
true. have iusc used to demonstrate che existence of God and of che soul and
Bue once the knowledge of God and the sou l has made us certain of co accepr nothi ng as t rue which did no t seem co me clearer an d ~iore
this rule, it is easy to recognize that the things we imagi ne in dreams certain than the demonstrations of the geometers had hi therto seemed.
should in no way make us doubt rhe trurh of che rhoughts we have when And yet I vcnrure co say that I have found a way co satisfy myself withi n a
awake. For if one happened even in sleep to ha,e some very distinct idea short rune about all the principal difficulties usually discussed in philoso-
{if, say, a geometer devised some new proof), one's being asleep would phy. What is more, I have noticed certain laws which God has so
not prevent the idea from being true. And as to the most common error established in nature, and of which he has implanted such notions in our
of our dreams, which consists in their representing various objects to us minds, that afccr adequate reflection we cannot doubt that they are
in the same way as o ur external sen~es do, it does not matter that this exactly observed i11 everything which exists or occurs in rhe world.
gives us occas ion to doubt the truth o f such ideas, for often ther can also Mo reover, by considering what follows from 1hese laws it see ms co me
mislead us without o ur being asleep - as when chose with jaundice sec that I have discovered many truths more usefu l and important than
anythi ng I had previous!)' learned or even hoped to learn.
1 Sec loornoic ., p. 289 below. I rndcavourc'<l 10 explain the most important of these truths in a
Discourse on the Method Part Five

treatise which certa in considerations prevent me fro m publ ishing, and I some of its parts bad to fo tm an earth, some planets and comets, and
know of no better way to make them known th an by summarizing its others a sun and fixed stars. Here I dwelt upon the subject of light,
contents.' My aim was to include in it everything I thought I knew about explaining at some length the nature of the light that had to be present in
the nature of material things before l began to write it. Now a painter the sun and the sta rs, how from there it t ravelled instantaneously across
cannot represent all the di fferent sides of a solid body eq ually we ll on his the immense distances of the heavens, and how it was reflected from the
fl at canvas, and so he chooses one of the principal o nes, sets it facing the planets and comets to the ea rth. To this I added many points about the
42 lighr, and shades tbe others so as to make them stand out o nly when substance, position, motions and all the various qualities of these heave ns
viewed from the perspective of the chosen side. [n just the same way, and stars; and I though t 1 had thereby said enough to show that for
fearing that 1 could nor put everything l had in mi nd into my discourse, I anything obse rved in the heavens and stars of our world, something
unde rtook merely ro expound qu ite fully what I understood about light. wholly similar had to appea r, or at least could appear, in those of the
Then, as th e occasion arose, I added something about the sun and fixed world 1 was describing. From that l went on to speak of the earth in 44
stars, beca use almost all light comes from th em; abo ut the heavens, particular: how, although 1 had expressly supposed that God had put no
because they t ransmit light; about planets, comets and the earth, because gravity into t he matter of wh ich it was formed, still all its parts tended
they reflect light; about terrestrial bodies in panicular, because they are exacd y towards its centre; how, there being water and air on its surface,
either coloured or transparent or luminous; and finally about man, the disposition of the heavens and heaven ly bodies {ch iefly the moon),
because he observes these bodies. Bur I did no t wa nt to bring these had to cause an ebb and flow si milar in all respects to that observed in
ma tters roo much into the open, for I wished to be free to say wha t I ou r seas, as well as a cur rent of both water a nd air from east to west like
thought about th em witho ut havi ng either to follow or to refute the the one we o bserve between the tropics; how mountains, seas, springs
accepted opinions of the learned. So I decided ro leave ou r world wholly and rivers could be formed naturall y there, and how metals could appear
for tbem to argue about, and to speak solely of what would happen in a in mines, plants grow in fields, and genera ll y how all the bod ies we call
new world. I therefore supposed that God now created, somewhere in 'mLxed' or 'composite' could come into being there. Among other things,
imaginary spaces, enough matter ro compose such a world; that he I took pains to make everything belonging to the na ture of fire very
variously and randomly agitated the different parts of this ma tter so as to dearly un derstandab le, because I know nothing else in the world, apart
form a chaos as confused as any the poets cou ld invent; and that he then from the heavenly bodies, tha t produces light. Thus I made dear how it is
did nothing bu t lend his regu lar concurrence to nature, leaving it to act formed and fuelled, how sometimes it possesses only heat wi thout light,
accord ing to the laws 11e estab lished. First of all , then, I described th is and sometimes light without 11eat; how it can produce different colours
matter, trying to represent it so that there is absolute ly nothing, I think, and various other qualities in diffe rent bodies; how it melts some bodies
which is clearer and more intelligible, with the exception of what has just and hardens others; how it can consume almost all bodies, or turn them
43 been said about God and rhe soul. In fact J express!)' supposed rhar this into ashes and smoke; and finally how it can, by the mere force of its
ma tter lacked all those forms or qualities about which they dispute in the action, form glass from these ashes - something I t0ok particu lar 45
Schools, and in general that it had only those features the knowledge of pleasure in describing since it seems t0 me as wonderfu l a transmutation
which was so natural to ou r souls that we cou ld not even pretend not to as any that takes place in na mre.
know them. further, l showed what the laws of nature were, and witho ut Yer I did not wish to infer fro m all this that o ur world was created in
basing my arguments on any principle other than the infinite perfections the way I p ro posed, for it is much more likely that from the beginning
of God, 1 tried to demo nstrate all those laws about which we co uld have God made it just as it had to be. But it is certain, and it is an opin ion
<lny do ubt, and ro show chat they are such that, even if God created many commonly accepted among theo logians, that che act by which God now
worlds, there could not be any in which rhey fai led t0 be obser".ed. After preserves it is just the same as that by which he created it. So, even if in
this, I showed how, in consequence of these laws, the greater pan of the the beginning God had given the world only the form of a chaos,
matter of thi s chaos had to become disposed and arranged in a certain provided that he esta blished the laws of narure and then lent his
way, which made it resemble o ur heavens ; and how, at the same t ime, concurrence ro ena ble na ture ro operate as it normally does, we may
1 The neatise of which The \tlorld :ind the Treatise on Man are parts. See pp. 1si-108 believe without imp ugni ng the miracle of creation that by this means
~ bove. alone all purely materi al th ings could in the cou rse of t ime have come to
134 Discourse on the Method Part Five r3 5

be just as we now see them. And their nature is much easier to conceive if many branches that spread throughout the lungs. Then rhere is 1he cavity
we see rhem develop gradually in this way than if we consider them on the left, likewise connected ro rwo rubes which are as large as the
only in their completed form. orhers or even larger: the venous artery (also ill-named bccau:.c it i~
From the description of inanimate bodies and plants I went on to nothing but a vein), which comes from rhe lungs where it is divided imo
describe animals, and in particular men. Bue I did not yet have sufficient many branches intertwined with those of the arterial vein and with those
knowledge ro speak of them in the same manner as I did of the other of the windpipe (as it is called) through which the air we breathe enters;
things - thar is, by demonstrating effec1s from causes and showing from and the great artery which go<..'5 out from die heart and sends its branches
whar seeds and in what manner natu re must produce 1hem. So I throughout the body. I should also like the reader to be shown the eleven
contented myself with supposing that God formed the body of a man little membranes which, like so many little doors, open and close 1he four
46 exactly like our own both in the o utward shape of its limbs and in the openings with in these two cavi1ies. Three arc situated at the entra nce to 48
internal arrangement of its organs, using fo r its composition nothing but rhe vena cava in such a way rhar th ey can not prevent the blood contained
1he matter that I had described. I supposed, coo, that in the beginning in it from flowing into the right-hand cavity, and yet they effectively
God did nor place in this body any ration:il soul or any other thing to prevenr it from flowing our. Three ar the entrance to the arterial vein do
serve as a vegetative or sensitive soul, but rather char he kindled in its just the opposite, readily permitting rhe blood in the right-hand caviry to
heart one of chose fires withou1 light which I had already explained, and pass into the lungs, bur not permitting the blood in the lungs to return
whose nature l understood ro be no different from rhar of the fire which into it. Likewise two others at the entrance ro the venous artery allow rhc
heacs hay when ir has been st0rcd before it is dry, or which causes new blood in the lungs ro flow inro rhc lefr-hand cavity of the heart, but block
wine ro seethe when ir is left to ferment from rhc crushed grapes. And irs return; and three at the entrance to the great arterr permit blood to
when I looked to see what funetions would occur in such a body I found leave the heart but prevent it from returning. There is no need to seek any
precisely those which may occur in us without our rhinking of chem, and reason for the number of these membranes beyond the fact that the
hence without any contribution from our soul (that is, from rhar parr of opening to the venous artery, being oval because of irs location, can
us, distinct from the body, whose nature, as I have said previously, is easily be closed with two o( them, whereas rhe ocher openings, being
simply t0 think). TI1ese functions are just the ones in which animals round, can be closed more effectively with three. I should like the rea der
without reason may be said to resemble us. But I could find none of rhc also to observe that the great artery and the anerial vein have a much
functions which, depending on d1ought, are 1he on ly ones chat belong to harder and firmer composition 1han the venous artery and the vena cava,
us as men; though I found all these later on, once l had supposed that and that the latter widen out before entering the heart to form two
God cm11cd a rational soul and joined it to this body in a particular way pouches, called rhe auricles, which are composed of flesh simi lar co that
which I described. of the heart. He will observe chat there is always more heat in the heart
But so rhat you might see how I dealt with this subject, I shall give my rhan in any other place in the body, and finally, that this heat is capable
explanation of the movement of rhe heart and rhe arteries. Being the first of causing a drop of blood ro swell and expand as soon as ir enters a 49
and mosr widespread movement that we observe in animals, it will cavity of the heart, just as liquids generally do when rhey are poured drop
47 readily enable us ro decide how we ought ro think abom all the others. by drop into some vessel which is very hot.
Bur first, so ch ere may be less d ifficulty in understanding whac I shall say, After that, I need say little in order ro explain the movemenr of t!'e
I should like anyone unversed in anatomy to take the trouble, before heart. When its cavities are not full of blood, some blood necessarily
reading this, to have the heart of some large animal with lungs dissected flows from the vena cava into the righr-hand caviry and from rhe venous
before him (for such a heart is in all rc~pccrs sufficiently like that of a :irtery into the left-hand caviry, for these rwo vessels are always full of
man), and to be shown the rwo chambers or cavicies which are present i11 blood and their entrances, which open into the heart, cannot be blocked.
it. First, there is the cavity on rhc righr, to which rwo very large tubes are Uut as soon as rwo drops of blood have entered the heart in this way, one
connected: these are the vena cava, wh ich is the principal receptacle of in each of its cavities, these drops, which must be very large because the
rhc blood and is like the trunk of a tree ol which all the other veins of rhe openings rhrough which they enter are very wide and the vessels from
body arc rhc branches; and rhe arterial vein (ill-named because it is really which they come :ire very full of blood, are rarefied and expand because
an artery), which originates in rhe heart and af1er leaving it divides into o( 1hc hcnr 1hcy linu 1hcrc. Jn rhis way rhey make the whole heart swell,
136 Disco11rse 011 the Method Part Five t37

and [he)' push aga inst and close th e five little doors at the entra nce to the in the arm from returning to the heart through the veins, bur does not
two vessels from which they come, thus preventing any more blood from prevent fresh blood from coming through the arteries. There are two
descending ro the heart. Continuing to become more and more rarefied, reasons for chis: first, the arteries are situated below the veins and their
they push open the six other liule doors at the entrance to the other two walls arc harder and hence less easily compressed; and second, the blood
vessels, going out through them and thereby causing all the branches of which comes from the heart tends to flow through the arteries to rhe
the arterial vein and of the great artery to swell almost at the same instant hand with more force 1han it does in returning ro the heart through the
as the heart. Immediately afterwards, the heart contracts, as do these veins. /\nd si nce this blood comes out of rhe arm through an opening in
arteries as well, because the blood that emered them grows cold, and one of the veins, there must necessarily be some passages below the
their six little doors close agmn while the five doors of the vena cava and tourniquet (that is, towards the extremity of the arm) through which it
50 the venous artery reopen and allow the passage of two further drops of may flow from the arteries. Harvey also proves very soundly what he says
blood, which immediately makes the heart and the arteries swell , exactly about rhe ci rculation of the blood by pointing to certain small mem
as before. And it is because the blood thus entering the heart passes brancs which arc arranged in various places along the veins in such a way
through the two pouches called the auricles that their movement is that they do not permit the blood to pass from the middle of the body
contrary to that of the heart, and they contract when it swells. ?\ow those towards the extremities but only let it return from the extremities
who are ignorant o f the force of mathematical demonstrations and towards th e heart. I le proves his theory, morrover, by an experiment
unaccustomed ro distinguishing true reasons from probable may be which shows that all the blood in the body can Aow out of it in a very
tempted to reject this exp lanation without examining it. To prevent this, short time through a single artery, even if the artery is rightly bound close
I would advise chem that the movement I have just explained follows to the heorr and cut between the heart and the tourniquet so that no one 52
from the mere arrangement of th e parts of the heart (wh ich can be seen cou ld have any reason to imagine that the blood drained off comes from
with the naked eye), from the heat in the heart (w hich can be felt with the anywhere but the heart.
fingers), and from t he nature of the blood (which can be known through Bur there are many other facts which prove that the true cause of rhis
observacion). T his movement follows just as necessarily as the movement movement of the blond is the one I have given. 1 First, there is rhe
of a clock follows from the force, position, and shape of its counter difference we sec bcLwecn tbe blood which flows from the veins and that
weights and wheels. which flows fro m the arteries. This can result onl)' from th e fact that rhc
One may ask, however, why c11c blood in the vei ns is not used up as it blood is ra rcliccl and, as it were, disti lled in passing through the heart,
flows contin ually into the heart, and why t he arteries are never too full of and is therefore thinner, livelie,. and warmer just after leaving it (that is,
blood, since all the blood that passes rhrough che heart flows through when in the a rteries) than a little before entering it (that is, when in the
t hem. To chis I need give no reply ocher than that already published by an veins). And if you look closely you will find this difference to be more
English physician, who must be praised for having broken the ice on evident near the heart than in places further from it. Then there is the
this subject. ' He is rhe f'irsr to teach that there are many small passages at hnrdncss of the membranes of which the arterial vein and the great artery
the extremities of the arteries, through which the blood they receive from are composed: tbis shows well enough rhar the blood strikes against them
the heart enters the small branches of the veins, from there going with more force than against rhe veins. And why should the left-hand
immediately back to th e heart, so that its course is nothing bur a cavity of the heart and the great artery be larger and wider than the
F perpet ual circulation. He proves this very effectively by reference to the righrhand cavity and the arterial vein, if not because the blood in the
normal practice of surgeons, who bind an arm moderately tightly above a venous artery, having been only in the lungs after passing through the
vein rhcy have opened, so as to make the blood Oow our more heart, is thinner and more easily rarefied than that which comes
abundantly than 1f they had not bound the arm. But just the opposi1e immediately from the vena cava? And what could physicians learn by
happens if they bind rhe arm below, between the hand and the opening, feeling the pulse if they did not know that, as the nature of the blood
or even if they bind it very tightly above the opening. For it is obvious changes, 1t can be rarefied by the heat of the heart more or less strongly,
that a moderately nght tourniquet can prevent the blood that is already and more or Je,,s quickly, than before? And if we examine how this hear is
r \\.'1llw11 Hmcy (t j7S-1657), whOS< book on 1ht circulation of 1hr blood De A!Olu 1 \t(' lksrnptu.m of tl~t Uw11.m Body (below, pp. J 16ff) for Ocsa.rtcs' cnncis:m of
(.ord1S. w01~ publi1:Md 1n 1628 and rcld b)' DtS<anes in 163z.. , 11.u\c:~\ c"'pl.in.rnuu 11( the movement of the blood.
Discourse on the Method Part Five 139

communicated co the other parts of the body, must we not acknowledge need suppose no cause other than the fact that they are carried there by
53 that this happens by means of the blood, which is reheated in passing the arteries which come most directly from the heart. For according to
through the heart and spreads from there through the whole body ? So it the laws of mechanics, which are identical with the laws of narure, when
is that if we remove the blood from some part of the body, we thereupon many things rend to move together towards a place where rhere is nor
remove the heat as well; and even if the heart were as hot as glowing iron, enough room for alt of them (as when the parts of blood coming from the
it would not be able to reheat the feet and the hands as it does unless it ieft-hand cavity of rhe hea rt alt tend towards the brain), the weakest and 55
continually sent new blood to these parts. Then, too, we know from this least agitated must be pushed aside by the strongest, which thus arrive at
that the true function of respiration is to bring enough fresh air into the that place on their own.
lungs to cause the blood entering there from the right-hand cavity of the I explained all these matters in suf.ficient detail in the treatise I
heart, where it has been rarefied and almost changed into vapours, to previously intended to publish.1 And then I showed what structure the
thicken immediately into blood again before returning to the left -hand nerves and muscles of the human body must have in order to make the
cavity. For if this did not happen the blood wou ld not be fit to serve as an imal spirits in side them strong enough to move its limbs - as when we
fuel for the fire in the heart. This is confirmed by seeing that animals see severed heads continue to move about and bite the earth although
without lungs have only one cavity in their hearts, and that unborn they are no longer alive. I also indicated what changes must occur in
children, who cannot use their lungs while enclosed within their mother's the brain in order to cause waking, sleep and dreams; how light, sounds,
womb, have an opening t hrough which blood flows from the vena cava smells, rastes, heat and the other qualities of external objects can imprint
ill(o the left-hand cav ity of the heart, and a tube through which blood various ideas on the brain through the mediation of the senses; and how
comes from the arterial vein into the great artery without passing hunger, thirst, and the other internal passions can also send their ideas
through che lungs. Again, how wo uld digestion take place in the stomach there. And I explained which part of the brain must be taken to be the
if rhe heart did not send heat there through the arteries, together with 'common' sense,2 where these ideas are received; the mem ory, which
some of the most fluid parts of the blood which help to dissolve the food preserves them; and the corporeal imagination, which can change them
we have put there? And is it not easy co understand the action that in various ways, form them into new ideas, and, by distributing .the
convem the juice of this food into blood, if we consider thar the blood animal spirits to the muscles, make the parts of this body move in as
passing in and out of the heart is distilled perhaps more than one or two many different ways as the parts of our bodies can move withou t being
54 hundred times each day? Again, what more do we need in order to guided by the will, and in a manner which is just as appropriate to the
explain nutrition and the production of rbe various humours present in objects of the senses and the internal passions. This will not seem at all
the body? \Y/e need only say that as the blood is rarefied it flows with such strange to those who know how many kinds of automatons, o r moving
force from the heart towards the extremities of the arteries thar some of machines, the skill of man can construct with the use of ve ry few parts, in 56
its parts come to rest in parts of the body where they drive out and comparison with the great multitude of bones, muscles, nerves, arteries,
displace other parts of the blood; and certain parts of the blood flow to veins and all the other parts that arc in the body of any animal. For they
some places rather than others according to the situation, shape, or will regard this body as a machine which, having been made by the hands
minuteness of the pores that they encounter, just as sieves with boles of of God, is incomparably better ordered than any machine that can be
various sizes serve to separate different grains from each other. But the devised by man, and contains in i t.~elf movements more wonderful than
most remarkable of all these facts is the generation of the animal spirits: those in any such mach ine.
like a very fine' wind, or rather a very pure and lively flame, they rise I made special efforts to show that if any such machines had the organs
continuously in great abundance from rhe heart into the brai n, passing and outward shape of a monkey or of some other animal that lacks
from there through the nerves to the muscles and imparting movement to reason, we sho uld have no means of knowing that the)' did not possess
all the parts of the body. The parts of the blood which arc the most emirely the same nature as these animals; whereas if any such machines
agitated and penetrating, and hence the best suited to compose rhese bore a resemblance to our bodies and imitated our actions as closely as
spirits, make their way to the brain rather rhan elsewhere. For this we possible for all practical purposes, we should st ill have two very certain
( See footnote p. t3l., above.
1 See foornote 1, p. 1 oo above:. 1 Cf. Rules, above p. 41., and Treatise ()11 ;\flan, above pp. 10 4ff.
Discourse 0 11 the Method Part Six

means of recognizing that they were not real men. The first is that they machines as well as by animals. Nor should we think, like some of the
could never use words, or put rogctbcr other signs, as we do in order to ancients, that the beasts speak, although we do not understand their
declare our thoughtS to others. For we can certainly conceive of a language. For if that were true, then since they have many organs that
machine so constructed that it utters words, and even utters words which correspo nd to ours, they could make themselves understood by us as well
correspond to bodily actions causi ng a change in its organs (e.g. if you as by their fellows. It is also a very remarkable fact that although many
touch ic in one spo t ic asks what you want of it, if you touch it in another animals show more skil l than we do in some of their actions, yet the same
it cries out that you are hurting it, and so on). But it is not conceivable animals show none at all in many others; so what they do better does not
that such a machine should produce different a rrangements of words so prove that they have any intelligence, for if it did then they would have
57 as to give an appropriately meaningful answer to whatever is said in its more intelligence than any of us and would excel us in everything. It 59
presell<:e, as the dullest of men can do. Secondly, even though such proves rarl1er that they have no intelligence at all, and that it is nature
machines might do some things as well as we do them, or perhaps even wh ich acts in them according to the disposition of their organs. In the
better, they would inevitably fail i11 ochers, which would revea l chat they sa me way a clock, consisting only of wheels and springs, can count the
were acting not through understanding but only from the disposition of hours and measure time more accurately than we can with all our
their organs. For whereas reason is a universal instrument which can be wisdom.
use.cl in all kinds of situations, these organs need some particular After that, l described the rational soul, and showed that, unlike the
dispositi on for each particular action; hence it is for all practical other things of which I had spoken, it cannot be derived in any way from
purposes imposs ible for a machine to have enough different organs to the potentia lity of m:mer, but must be specially created.' And 1 showed
make it act in all the contingencies of life in the way in which our reason how it is not sufficient for it to be lodged in the human body like a
makes us act. helmsman in bis ship, except perhaps to move its limbs, but that it must
Now in just these two ways we can also know the difference between be more closely joined and united with the body in order to have, besides
man and beast. For it is quite remarkable that there are no men so this power of moveme nt, feel ings and appetites like ours and so
dull-w itted or stupid - and this includes even madmen - that they are consti tute a real man. Here I dwelt a li ttle upon the subject of che soul,
incapa ble of arra ngi ng va rious words together and forming an utterance beca use it is of the greatest importance. for after tbe error of chose who
from them in orde r to make their thoughts understood; whereas there is deny God, whi ch l believe 1 have already adequately refuted, there is
no other animal, however perfect an d well-endowed it may be, that can none that leads weak minds further from the straight path of virtue than
do the like. This does not happen because they Jack the necessary organs, that of imagining that the souls of the beasts are of the same nature as
for we see that magpies and parrots ca n utter words as we do, and yet ours, and hence that after this present life we have nothing to fear or to
they cannot speak as we do: that is, they cannot show that they are hope for, any more than lli cs and ams. But when we know how much the
thi nki ng what they are saying. On the other hand, men born deaf and beasts differ from us, we understand much better rhe arguments which
58 dumb, and thus deprived of speech-organs as much as the beasts or evc11 prove that our soul is o f a nature entirely independent of the body, and
more so, normally invent their own signs to make themselves understood consequently that it is not bound to die with it. And since we cannot see 60
by those who, being regularly in their company, have the time to learn any other causes which destroy the soul, we are natu rally led co conclude
their language. This shows not merely that the beasts have less reason that it is immortal.
than men, but that they have no reason at all. For it patently requires very
little reason to be able to speak; and since as much inequality can be Part Six
observed among the animals of a given species as among human beings,
and some animals are more easily trained than others, it wou ld be It is now three years since I reached the end of the treatise that contains
in credible that a superior specimen of the monkey or parrot species all rhese things . l was beginn ing to revise it in order to put it in the hands
should not be able to speak as well as the stupidest child - or at least as of a publisher, when I learned that some persons to whom I defer and
well as a child with a defective brain - if th eir souls were not completely who have hardl y less authority over m y actions than 1ny own reason bas
differe nt in nature from ours. And we must not confuse speech with the over my thoughts, had disapproved of a physical theory published a little
llnwr:il movements which express passions and which can be im itated by 1 The s1.'<:tion o f rhc Trcalis~ on Man referred to here has nor survi,ed.
Discourse on the Method Part Six

while before by someone elsc. 1 I will not say that I accepted this theory, masters of nature. This is desirable not only for che invention of
but only that before their condemnation I had no1iced nothing in it that I innumerable devices which would facilitate our enjoyment of the fruits of
could imagine to be prejudicial either to religion or to the state, and rhc carrh and all the goods we find there, but also, and most importantly,
hence nothing that would have prevcmcd me from publishing it myself, if for the maintenance of health, which is undoubtedly the chief good and
reason had convinced me of ii. This made me fear that there might be the foundation of all the other goods in this life. For even the mind
some mistake in one of my own theories, in spite of the greac care I had depends so much on the temperament and disposition of th e bodily
always taken never co adopt any new opinion for which I had no certain organs that if it is possible to find some means of making men in general
demonstration, and never to wri1e anything that might work to anyone's wiser and more skilful than they have been up till now, I believe we must
disadvantage. That was enough to make me change my previous decision look for ic ill medici ne. It is true chat medicine as currently practised docs
to publ ish my views. Fo r although I had had very strong reasons for this not contain much of any significant use; but witho ut intending to
decision, my incl ination, which has al ways made me dislike the business disparage it, I am sure there is no one, even among its practitioners, who
of writing books, prom pted me to find excuses enough for deciding would not admit that all we know in med icine is al most nothing in
6r otherwise. The reasons, on one side and the other, are such that not only comparison with wh:u remains to be known, and rhat we might free
do I have some interest in stating them here, but also the public may be ourselves from innumerable diseases, both of the body and of the mind,
interested to know what they are. and perhaps even from 1he infirmity of old age, if we had sufficient
I have never made much of the products of my own mind; and so long knowledge of their causes and of all the remedies that nature has
as chc only fruits I gathered from the method I use were my own provided. Intending as I did to devote my life to the pursuit of such 6 3
satisfaction regarding certain djfficuhics in the speculathe sciences, or indispensable knowledge, I discovered a path which would, I thought,
else my attempts to govern my own conduce by the principles I learned inevitably lead one to it, unless prevented by the brevity of life or the lack
from it, I did not think I was obliged to write anything about it. For as of obsenations. 1 And I judged that the best remedy against these two
regards conduce, everyone is so full of his own wisdom that we might find obstacles was to communicate faithfully to the public what little I had
as many reformers as heads if permission to institute change in these discovered, and to urge the best minds co cr y and make further progress
mat1crs were granted to anyone other than chose whom God has set up as by helping with the necessary observations, each according co his
sovcrcigiis over bis peop le or those 011 whom be has bestowed su fficient inclination and abili ty, and by comm unicating to the public everything
grace and zeal to be pw phets. As regards my speculations, alchough they they learn. Thus, by building upon the work of our predecessors and
pleased me very much, I realized that other people had their own which combining the lives and labours of many, we might make much greater
perhaps pleased them more. But as soon as I had acquired some general progress working together than anyone could make on his own.
notions in physics and had noticed, as I began to tesc them in ''arious I also noticed, regarding observaiions,1 that the further we advance in
particular problems, where they could lead and how much they differ our knowledge, the more necessary they become. At the beginning, rather
from 1he principles used up co now, I bel ieved that I could not keep them than seeking those which are more unusual and highly conrri,,ed, it is
secret without sinning gravely against the law which obliges us co do all better to resort only 10 those which, presenting chemselves spontaneously
in our power 10 secure the general welfare of mankind. For they opened to our senses, cannot be unknown co us if we reOect even a liule. The
my eyes to che possibility of gaining knowledge which would be very reason for this is that the more unusual observations are apt to mislead us
useful in life, and of discovering a practical philosophy which might when we do not yet know the causes of the more common ones, and the
62 replace the speculative philosophy taughc in the schools. Through this factors on which they depend arc almost always so special and so minute
ph ilosophy we could know 1hc power and action of fire, water, air, the that it is very difficult to discern them. But the order I have adopted in
stars, the heavens and all the other bodies in o ur environment, as this regard is che following. First l cried to discover in general the
distin ctly as we know the vario us crafts of o ur artisans; and we could use principles or first causes of everything that exists o r can exist in the 64
this knowledge - as the artisans use theirs - for all the purposes for which world. To t hi s end l considered nothi ng but God al one, who created the
it is appropriate, and thus make ourselves, as it were, the lords and
1 Fr. exptfrie1ue$, a rerm which Descarres of1t11 use-s when talking of scit'm1fi-c ob$ena
1 Galileo, whose Dialogue Conttming the 'J1uo C/11<( World Systems was published in r1<mS, :md which somt:1imc5 com~ dose to mcamng 'experiments' in the modern sense
6)1 ond condemned by chc Congregation or the Holy Office in I6 JJ. (m root b<ing derived from Ln. ex/Jrrtor. ro t~t').
Discourse 011 the Method />art Six

world; and I derived chese principles only from certain seeds of truth think is to be seen by others than ac something we do only for ourselves;
which are narurally in our souls. Next I examined che first and mosc and often what seemed true to me when I first conceived it has looked
ordinary cffccrs deducible from these causes. In this way, it seems to me, I false when I cried 10 put it on paper. This plan will also ensure both that I
djscovered the heavens, che stars, and an earth; and, on the earth, water, lose no opporruniry to benefit rhe public if I can, and that if my wricings
air, fire, minerals, and other such things which, being the most common have any value, those who get them after my death can make the most
of all a nd rhe simplest, are consequently the easiest to know. Then, when appropriate use of them. But I was determined not to agree to their
I sought to descend to more particular things, I encountered such a publicarion during my lifcrimc, so that neither the opposition and
variery t hat I did not think the human mind could possibly distinguish controversy they might arouse, nor the reputation they might gain for
the forms or species of bod ies that are on the ea rth from an infinity of me, would make me lose any of the time I planned to devote to my
oth ers that might be there if it had been God's will to put t hem there. self-instruction. Every man is indeed bound to do what he can to procu re
Conscqucndy I thought the only way of maki ng these bodies useful to us the good of others, and a man who is of no use to anyone else is strictly
was to progress to the causes by way of the effects and to make use of worthless. Nevertheless it is a lso true that om concern ought co extend
many special observations. And now, reviewing in my mind all the beyond che present, and that it is good 10 neglect matters which may
objects th at have ever been present to my senses, I ventu re to say that I profit the living when we aim to do other chings which will benefit
have never noticed an)thing in them which I could not explain quite posterity even more. In any case I am willing ro acknowledge that rhc
easily by che principles I bad discovered. But I must also admit that che little I have learned so far is almost nothing in comparison with that
power of nature is so ample and so vast, and these principles so simple which I do not know but which I hope to be able 10 lea rn . Those who
and so general, char I nocice hardly any particular effect of which l do not gradually discover the truth in the sciences are like people who become 67
6 5 lu1ow at once thac ic can be deduced from the principles in many different rich and find they have less trouble making large profits than they had in
ways; and my grearesc difficulry is u'ually IO discover in which of these making much smaller ones when they were poorer. Or they may be
ways ir depends on them. I know no other means ro discover chis than by compared with military commanders, whose forces tend to grow in
seeki ng further observations whose outcomes vary according to which of proportion to their victories, but who need more ski ll to maintain their
these ways provides the correct explanation. Moreover, l have now position after losing a battle than they do to take towns and provi nces
reached a point where I think I can sec quite clearly what line we should after winning one. For attempting to overcome all the difficulties and
foll ow in making most of the obse rvations which serve this purpose; bu t I errors that prevent our arri1i ng at knowledge of the truth is indeed a
sec a lso thar they are of such a kind and so numerous that neither my matter of fighting battles: we lose a battle whenever we accept some false
dexterity nor my income (were it even a th ousand times greater rhan it is) opin ion concerning an important question of general significance, and we
cou ld suffice for all of them. And so che advances I make in the need much more skill afterwards to regain our former position than we
knowledge of nature will depend henceforth on che opportunities I get to do 10 make good progress when we already have principles w~ich arc
make more or fewer of these observations. I resolved to make chis known well-founded. For my part, if I have already discovered a few truths in the
in che treatise l bad wri"en, and to show clearly how che public could sciences (and I hope that the contents of this volume warrant the
benefit from such knowledge. This would oblige all who desire the judgemem that I have found some), I can say that these discoveries
general well-being of mankind - thac is, all who are really virtuous, not merely result from and depend upon my surmounting of five or six
virtuous only in appearance or merely in repute - both to communicate principal difficulties in battles where I reckon I had forrune on my side. l
to me the observations they have already made and 10 assist me in even venture co say that I think I need to win only two or three other such
seeking those which remain to be made. battles in order to achieve my aims completely, and that my age is not so
Since then, however, other considerati ons have made me change my far advanced that 1 ma y not in che normal course of nature scill have the
mind. I have come ro think that I must continue writing down anything I time to do this. But the more hopeful I am of being able LO use my 68
consider at all important, when I discover its crurh, and that l should rake remaining years effectively, the more I chink I am obliged to plan my time
as much ca re over diese writings as [ would if I intended to have them carefully; and many occasions fo r wasting time would undoubtedly arise
66 published. For chis will give me all the more reason co examine them if I published the fundamcntn l principles of my physics. For although
closely, as undoubredly we always look more carefully at something we these principles arc almo;t all so cvidcnr thac they need only to be
Discourse on the Method Part Six 1 47

understood to be believed, and although I think I can demonstrate all of attributed to all the ancient philosophers whose writings we do not
them, yet since it is impossible chat they should accord with all the possess; nor do I conclude from these artributions that their 1houghts
diverse opinions of orher men, I foresee that I should often be distracted were highly unreasonable. As 1hey were some of the best minds of their
by t he conrrovcrsics they wou ld arouse. time, I conclude rather chat their thoughts have been misreported. We see
lt may b'e claimed thac such controversies would be useful. Noc only coo that it has almost never happened that any of their fo llowers has
would they make me aware of my mistakes, but :1lso they would ena ble surpassed them; and I am sure that Aristotle's most passionate contem-
others to have a better understanding of anything worthwhile thac I may porary followe rs would count themselves fortunate if t hey had as much
have discovered; and, as many people are able to sec more than one knowledge of nature as he had, even on the condi tion that they should
alone, so these others might begin to make use of my discoveries and help never know any more. They arc like ivy, which never s~ks 10 climb
me witb theirs. But although I recognize chat I am extremely prone to higher than the trees which support it, and often even grows downward
error, and I almost never trust the 6rsc thoughts that come to me, at the after reaching 1he tree-tops. For it seems to me that they too take
same time my acquaintance with the objections that ma)' be raised downward steps, or become somehow less knowledgeable than if they
prevents me from expecting any benefit from them. For I have already refrained from study, when, not content with knowing everything which
had frequent experience of the judgements both of those I held to be my is intelligibly explained in their author's writings, they wish in addition to
friends and of some I thought indifferent towards me, and even of certain find th ere rhe solution to many p roblems about which he says nothi ng
others whose malice and envy would, I knew, make them eager enough an d abo uc wbich perhaps he never thought. But thi s manner of philo-
to reveal what affection would hide from my friends. But it has rarely sophizing is very convenient for those with only mediocre minds, for the
happened char an objection has been raised which I had not wholly obscurity of the distinctions and principles they use makes it possible for
69 foreseen, except when it was quite wide of the mark. Th us I have almost them to speak about everything as confidently as if they knew ii, and to
never encountered a critic of my views who did not seem ro be either less defend all they say against the most subtle and clever thinkers without 7 r
rigorous or less impartial than myself. Nor have I ever observed that any anyone having the means to convince 1hem that they are wrong. In this
previously unknown truth has been discovered by means of the disputa- they seem co resemble a blind man who, in order 10 fight wirhout
tions practised in the schools. For so long as each side mives for victory, disadvantage against someone who can sec, lures hi m into t he depths of a
more effort is put into establishing plausi bi lity than in we ighing reasons very dark cellar. These philosophers, I may say, have an interest in my
fo r and against; and chose who have long been good advocates do nor refraining from publishing the p rinciples of the ph ilosophy I use. for my
necessarily go on co make better judges. principles are so very simpl e and evident that in pu blishing them I should,
As for the benefit that others might gain from the communication of as it were, be opening windows and admitting daylight into that cellar
my thoughts, this could not be so ''Cry great. For I have not yet taken where they have gone down co fight. But even the best minds have no
them sufficiently far: I need to add many things to them before applying reason to wish to know my principles. For if tbey want to be able to
them in practice. And I think I can say without vanity that if anyone is speak about ever)'tbing and acquire the reputation of being learned, they
capable of making these additions it must be myself rather than someone will achieve 1his more readily by resling content with plausibility, which
else - nor that there may not be many minds in 1he world incomparably can be found without difficulty in all kinds of subjects, than by seeking
better than mine, but because no one can conceive something so well, and the truth; for the truch comes to light only graduall y in certain subjects,
ma ke it his own. when he learns it from someo ne else as when he and it obl iges us frankly to confess our igno rance where other subjects
discovers it himself. This is especially true in the case under considera- are concerned. Bur if they prefer the knowledge of some few t ruths to the
1ion. I have often explained some of my opinions to highly intelligent vanity of appearing ignora nt of nothing (and undoubtedly the former is
persons who seemed to understand them quite distinctly when I told preferable), and if they wish to follow a plan similar to mine, then in that
them about them; but, when they repeated them, I observed that they case I need cell them nothing more than I bave already said in this
almost always changed 1hem in such a way 1hat I could no longer discourse. For if they are capable of making further progress 1han I have
70 acknowledge 1hem as my own. For this reason I should like co beg future made, they will be all the more capable of discovering for themselves
generations never to believe chat I am the source of an opinion they hear e\erything l think I have discovered. Inasmuch as I have examined
unless I have published it myself. I do not wonder ar the absurdities every1bing in an orderly manner, it is certain tha t what still remains for
'
Discourse on the Method Part Six

72 me to discover is in itself more difficult and more hidden than anything I willingly accept from anyone a favour that I might be 1hought nor to 74
have thus far been able to discover; and they would have much less deserve.
pleasure in learning it from me than in learning it for themselves. Besides, All these considerations taken together caused me to decide, three
by investigating easy matters first and then moving on gradually to more years ago, that I did nor wish to publish the treatise [ had ready then, and
difficult ones, they wi ll acquire habits more useful to them than all my made me resolve not to publish any ot her work during my lifetime which
instructions could be. For my pan, I am convinced that if from my youth was so general in scope or by which the foundations of my physics might
I had been taught all the truths I have since sought to detnonstrate, and so be understood. Since then, however, two further reasons have compelled
had learned them without any difficulty, I shou ld perhaps never have me to include here some essays on particular topics and ro give to the
known any others; or at least I should never have acquired the habit and public some account of my acrions and plans. The first is that, if I failed
facility, which I chink I have, for always finding new truths whenever I to do so, then many who knew of Ill)' earher intention to publish certain
apply myself in searching for them. In short, if there was ever a task writings migh1 suppose that my reasons for not doing so were more
which could not be accomplished so well by someone other than the discreditable to me than they are. I am not excessively fond of glory- in
person who began it, it is the one on which I am working. deed if I dare to say so, I dislike it in so far as I regard it as opposed to
True, as regards observations which may help in this work, one man that tranquilliry which I value above everything else. At the same 1i me J
could not possibly make them all. But also he co uld not usefully em ploy have never tried to conceal my actions as if they were cri mes, or taken
other hands than his own, except those of artisans, or such persons as he many preca utions to remain unknown. For if I had done this J th ought I
cou ld pay, who would be led by the hope of gain (a most effecrive motive) would do myself an injustice, and moreover that would have given me
to do precisely what he ordered them 'to do. For voluntary helpers, who a certain sort of disquiet, which again would have been opposed to the
might offer to help him from curiosity or a desi re to learn, usually perfect peace of mind I am seeking. And since my indifference as to
promise more than they achieve and make fine proposals which never whether I was well-known or not made it unavoidable that I should gain
73 come to anything. In addition, they would inevitably wish to be rewarded some sort of reputation, I thought I ought to do my best at least to avoid
by having certain difficulties explained co them, or at any rate by getting a bad one. The other reason compelling me to write this is that 75
compliments and useless conversation, wh ich could not but waste a lot of every day I am becoming more and more aware of the delay which my
his time. And as for the observations that others have already made, even project of self-instruction is suffering beca use of the need for innumerable
if they were wi lling to co mmunicate them to bim (something which those observations which I cannot possibly make without the help of others.
who call them 'secrets' wou ld never do), they are for the most part bound Although I do not Aatter myself with any expectation that 1he public will
up with so many derails or superfluous ingredients that it would be very share my interests, yet at the same t ime I am unwilling to be so unfaithful
bard for him to make out the truth in them. Besides, he would find almost to myself as to give !hose who come after me cause to reproach me some
all of these observations to be so badly explained or indeed so mistaken- day on rhe grounds that I cou ld have left tbem many far better things if J
because those who made them were eager to have them appear to had not been so remiss in making them understand how 1hey could
conform with their principles - that it would simply no~ be worthwhile conrribure 10 my projects.
for him to spend the time required to pick out those which he might find I .thought it convenient for me to choose certain subjects which,
useful. So if there were someone in the world whom we knew for smc to without being highly controversial and without obliging me to reveal
be capable of making discoveries of the greatest possible importance and more of my principles than I wished, would nonetheless show quite
public utility, and whom other men accordingly were eager to help in clearly what I ca n, a nd what I cannot, acltieve in the sciences. I cannot tell
every way to achieve his ends, I do nor see how they could do anything if I have succeeded in this, and I do not wish co anticipate anyone's
for him except ro contribute rowards the expenses of t he observations judgements about my writings by speaking about t hem myself. Bui I shall
that be would need and, further, prevent unwelcome visitors from be very glad if they arc examined. In order to provide more
wasting. bis free 1ime. But I am not so presumptuous that I wish to opponuniry for this, I beg all who have any objecrions ro take the trouble
promise anything extraordinary, nor do I entertain thoughts so vain as to send them to my publisher, and when he informs me about them I shall
the supposition that the public ought to take a great interest in my a11cmpt to append my reply at the same time, so that readers can sec both
projects. Apart from that, I am not so mean-spirited that I would sides togeth er, and decide the truth all rhc more easily. I do riot prom ise
....
1 50 Discourse 011 the Metbod Part Six

to make very long replies, but only to acknowledge my errors very in a single day simply by being given a good fingering chart. And if I am
76 frankly if I recognize tbem; and where l cannot see them I shall simply writing in French, mi native language, rather than Latin, the language of
say wh:u I consider is required for defending what I have wri tten, my l(acher>, ii is because I expect that those who use only their natural
without introducing any new material, so as to avoi d getting endlessly reason in all its purity will be better judges of my opinions rhan rhose
caught up in one topic after another. who give credence only to the writings of the ancients. As to those who
Should anyone be shocked at first by some of the statements I make at combine good sense wi1h application - the only judges I wish to have - I 78
the beginning of 1he Optics and the Meteorology because I call them am sure they will not be so partial to Latin that rhcy will refuse to listen
'suppositions' and do nor seem 10 care about proving them, let him have to my :irguments because I expound them in the vernacular.
the parience to read rhc whole book attentively, and I trust that he will be For the rest, I do not wish to speak here in detail about the further
satisfied. For I take my reasonings to be so closely interconnected that progress I hope to make in the sciences, or co commit myself in the eyes of
just as the last arc proved by the first, which are theiI causes, so the first the public by making any promise that I am not suie of fulfilling. I will
are proved by the last, which are their effects. It must not be supposed say only that I have resolved to devote the rest of my life to nothing other
tha1 I am here committing 1he fallacy that the logicians call 'arguing in a than trying to acquire some knowledge of nature from which we may
circle'. For as experience makes most of these effects quite certain, the derive rules in medicine which are more reliable than those we have had
causes from which I deduce them serv~ not so much to prove them as to up till now. Moreover, my inclination makes me so strongly opposed to
explain them; indeed, quite to the contrary, it is the causes which are all 01hcr projects, and especially to those which can be useful to some
proved by the effects. And l have called them 'suppositions' simply to persons only by harming others, that if ciicumstances forced me to
make it known that I think I c:in deduce them from the primary truths [ engage in any such purSlnt, I do not chink I would be capable of
have expounded above; but l have deliberately avoided carrying out succeeding in it. Of this I make here a public declaration, fully recogniz-
these deductions in order to preven t certain ingenious persons from ing that it can110t serve to make me eminent in the world; but then J have
raking th e opportunity 10 construct, on what they believe to be my no desire to be such. And I shall always hold myself more obliged to
principles, some extravagant philosophy for which J shall be blamed. t hose by whose favour I enjoy uninterrupted leisure than to any who
These persons imagine that they can learn i11 a single day what it has might offer me the most honourable positions in the world.
taken someone else twenty years to think out, as soo n as he has to ld them
only two or three words about it; whereas the more penetrating and
77 acute they are, the more prone to error they are and the less capable of
truth. As to the opinions that are wholly mine, I do not apologize for
their novelry. Jf the reasons for them are considered well, I am sure they
will be found to be so simple and so much in agreement with common
sense as to appear less extraord inary and strange than any other views
that people may hold on the same subjects. I do not boast of being the
first to discover any of them, but I do claim to have accepted rhcm not
because they have, or have nor, been expressed by others, but solely
because reason has convinced me of them.
If artisans are nor immediately able to put into operation rhe invention
explained in the Optics, I do not think it can on that account be said co be
dcfective. 1 For much skill and practice are needed for making and
adjusting the machines I have described, and although my description
docs not omit any details, I should be no less astonished if they succeeded
at the fi rst attempt 1han if someone could learn to play the lute excellently
1 Hc<c O.:.Cntcs rclcn to 1h< method ol cumng lenses d<SCribcd in DiS<ounc: 1 o ol the
Optus.

....
Optics 153

consequences from them because they are related to various observations


they have made.
No doubt you bave had the experience of walking ar night over rough
ground without a light, and finding it necessary to use a stick in order to
guide yourself. You may then have been able co notice that by means of 84
this stick you could feel the various objects situated around you, and that
AT .YI OPTICS you could even tell whether they were trees or stones or sand or water or
81 grass or mud or any other such thing. It is true that this kind of sensation
is somewhat confused and obscure in those who do not have long
DISCOURSE ONE : L JGH T
practice with it. Blll consider it in those born blind, who have made use
of it all their lives: with them, you will find, it is so perfect and so exact
The conduct of 011r life depends entirely on our senses, and since sight is that o ne might almost say chat they see wi th their hands, or that their
the noblest and most comprcliensive of the senses, inventio ns which serl'C stick is the organ of some sixth sense given to them in place of sight. In
to increase its power are undoubted!)' among the most useful there can order to draw a comparison from chis, I would have you consider the
be. And it is difficult to fi nd any such inventions which do more to light in bodies we call 'l um inous' to be nothing ocher than a certain
increase the power of sight than those wonderful telescopes which, movement, or very rapid and lively action, which passes to our eyes
though in use for only a short time, have already revealed a greater through the medium of the air and other transparent bodies, just as the
number o f new stars and other new objects above the ea rth than we had movement or resistance of the bodies encountered by a blind man passes
seen there before. Carrying o ur vis ion much further than o ur forebears to his hand by means of his stick. In th e first place this will prevent you
could normally exrend their imagination, these telescopes seem to have from finding it strange that this light can extend its rays instantaneously
opened the way for us to attain a knowledge of nature much greater and from the sun to us. For you know tha t the action by which we move one
(8 2) more perfect than they possessed . .. But inventions of any complexity do end of a scick must pass instantaneous!)' to the other end, and that the
not reach their highest degree of perfection righr away, and this one is action of light would have to pass from che bea ve11s to th e earth in the
still sufficiently problematical to give me cause to write about it. And same way, even though che distance in this case is much greater than that
since the constrnction of the things o f which I shall speak must depend on between the ends of a stick. Nor w ill you find it strange that by means of
the skill of craftsmen, who usually have little formal education, I shall try this action we can sec all sorts of colours. You ma)' perhaps even be 8 5
8 3 to make myself intelligible to everyone; and l shall try not to omit prepared to believe that in the bodies we call 'coloured ' the colours are
anyth ing, o r to assume anythi11g that requires knowledge of other nothing ocher than the various ways in wh ich rbe bodies receive light and
sciences. Th is is why I shall begi n by explaining light and light-rays ; then, reflect it against our eyes. You have only to consider that the differences a
having briefly dcscril>ed the parts of the eye, l shall give a detailed blind man notes between trees, rocks, water and simi lar things by means
account of how vis ion comes about; and, after noting all the things which of his stick do not seem any less to him than the differences between red,
are capable of making visi.on more perfect, I shall show how they can be yellow, green and all the othe r colours seem to us . And yet in all those
aided by the inventions which J shall describe. bodies the differences are nothing oth er than the various ways of moving
Now since my only reason for speaking of light here is to explain how the stick or of resisting its movemems. Hence you will have reason co
its rays enter into the eye, and how they may be deflected by the various conclude tha t there is no need to suppose that something material passes
bodies they enco unter, I need not attempt to say what is its true nature. It from objeccs to our eyes to make us see colours and light, or even t hat
will, I think, suffice if l use two or three comparisons in order to faci litate there is somethin g in the objects which resembles the ideas or sensations
that conception of light which seems most suitable for explaining all that we ha,e of chem. In just the same way, when a blind man feels
those of its properties that we know through expe rience and then for bod ies, nothing has to issue from the bodies and pass along his stick to
deducing all the ochers that we cannot observe so easily. In this I am his hand; and the resistance or movement of the bodies, which is the sole
imitating the astronomers, whose assumptions are almost all false or cause of the sensations he has of them, is nothing like the ideas he forms
uncertain, but who nevertheless draw many very true and certai n of them. By rh is means, you r mind will be delivered from all those little
152.
Optics Optics 155

images flitting through the air, called 'intentional forms', 1 which so tend in 3 straight line towards our eyes at the very instant they arc
exercise the im agination of the philosophers. You will even find ir easy to opened, without these parts impeding each other, and even without their
settle the current philosophical debate concerning the o rigin of rhe action being impeded by the coarser parts of the transparent bodies which lie
which causes visual perception. For, jusr as our blind man can feel the between them. Th is happens whether these bodies move in other ways -
86 bodies around him not only through rhe acrion of these bodies when they like the air which is almost always agitated by some wind - or are
move against his stick, but also through the action of his hand whe11 1hey motion less - say, like glass or crysta l. And note here that it is necessary to 88
do nothi ng bur resist 1hc stick, so we mu sr acknowledge that the objects distinguish between the movement and the action or the tendency to
of sigh t can be perceived nor on ly by means of the ac1,ion in them which is move. For we may very easily conceive that the parts of wine at one place
directed towards our eyes, but also by the action in our eyes which is should tend towards one hole and at the same time towards 1he other,
directed towards them. Nevertheless, because the btter action is nothing even th ough they cannot actually move towards both holes at the same
other than light, we must note that it is found only in the eyes of those time, and t hat they should tend exactly in a straigh t line towards one and
creatures which can see in the dark, such as cats, whereas a man normally towards the other, even though they cannot move exactly in a straight
sees only thro ugh the action which comes from the objects. For experi- line because of the bunches of grapes which are between t hem. In the
ence shows us that these o bjecrs must be lumino us or illuminated in order same way, considering that the light of a luminous body must be
to be seen, and not tlrnt Oll i' eyes must be luminous or illuminated in regarded as being not so much its movement as its action, you must think
order to see rhem. But because our blind man's stick differs greatly from of the rays of light as nothing other tha n the lines a long which 1his action
the air and t he other t ransparen t bodies th rough the medium of which we rends. Thus there is an infinity of such rays which come from a ll the
see, I musr make use of yet another comparison. points of a luminous body towards all the points of rhe bodies it
Consider a wine-,at at harvest time, full 10 the brim with half-pressed illuminates, just as you can imagine an infinity of srraight lines along
grapes, in the bottom of which we have made one or two holes th rough which the 'actions' coming from all the points of the surface of the wine
which the unlermenred wine can flow. 2 Now observe that, sin ce there is tend towards one hole, and an infinity of others along which the 'actions'
no vacuum in natu re (as nearly all philosophers acknowledge), and yet coming from the same points tend also towards the other hole, withour
87 there are many pores in all the bodies we perceive around us (as either impeding the other.
experience can sho w quite clearly), it is necessary that these pores be Moreover, these rays must always be imagined to be exactly st raight
filled with some very subtle and very fl uid mni rer, which extends without when t hey pass through a single transparent body wb ich is uniform
interruption from the heavenly bodies ro us. Now, if you compare rhis throughou t. But when they meet certa in other bodies, they arc liable to
subtle matter with the wine in the var, and compare the less fluid or be deflected by them , or weakened, in tbe same way that the movement
coarser parts of the air and the o rher transparent bodies with the bunches of a ball or stone thrown into the air is deflected by the bodies it 89
of grapes which are mixed in with rhe wine, you will read ily undersrand encounters. For it is very easy to believe that rhe action or tendency to
the following. The pares of wine at one pbcc tend to go down in a move (which, 1 have said, should be taken for light) must in this respect
straight line through one hole at the very instant it is opened, and at the obey the same laws as motion itself. In order rhat I may give a complete
same time through the other hole, while the pam at other places also account of this third comparison, consider that a ball passing through the
tend at the same time co go down thro ugh th ese two holes, without these air may encounter bodies that arc soft or ha rd or fl uid. 1f these bodies
actions being impeded by each other or by the resistance of the bunches arc sofr, they completely stop t he ball and check its movement, as when it
of grapes in the vat. T his happens even though the bunches support each strikes linen sheets or sa nd or mud. But if they are hard, they send the ball
other and so do not rend in the least to go down through tbe boles, as in another direction wirhour stopping it, and they do so in many different
does the wine, and at the same time they can even be moved in many ways. For their surface may be qutte even and smoorh, or rough and
other ways by the bunches which press upon them. In the same way, all uneven; if even, either Oat or curved; if uneven, its unevenness may consist
the parrs of the subtle matter in contact w11h the side of the sun facing us mcrcl)' 111 it\ being composed of many "ariously curved parts, each quite
'mooth 1n itself, or also in its having ma ny different angles or points, or
Mllllc p.HI\ harder than others, or parts which arc moving (thei r
t A referenct co the sc:hoh1.sric doctrine rhac m :ueri~d obje<t'S rransmn co the soul 'forms or
'imagC5' (fr. es/)lces, L:'lt. sptde$) resembling them. n1ovc11n11t' hl'ing varied in a 1hous.111d inrnginab lc ways) . And it must be
2. A diagram of rhc wfr1C\'t'lt is omitted here. nortd I h.11 l'lic b:ill, beside, movi ng in the ,implc and ordinary way which
Optics Optics r 57

takes it fro1i1 one place to another, may move in yet a second way,
turning on its axis, and that the speed of the latter movement may have
many different relations with that of the former. n1us, when many balls
coming from the same directioc:i meet a bod)' whose surface is completely
90 smooth aod even, they are reflected uniformly and in the same order, so
that if this surface is completely flat they keep the same distance between
them after having met it as they had beforehand; and if it is curved
inward or outward they come towards each other or go away from each
(91) other in the same order, more or less, on account o( this curvature ... It
is necessary to consider, in the same manner, that there are bodies which
break up the light-rays that meet them and take away all their force Fig. I

(viz., bodies called 'black', which have no co lour other than that of
shadows); and there are others which cause the rays to be reAected, some getting involved in new difficulties, let us ass ume that the ground is
in the same order as they receive them (viz. bodies with highly polished perfectl y flat and hard, and that the ball always travels at a constant
surfaces, which can serve as mirrors, both flat and curved), and others in spe~d, both in its downward passage and in rebounding, leaving aside
92 many directions in complete disarray. Among the latter, again, some enmely che question of the power whic.h continues to move it when it is 94
bodies cause the rays to be reflected without bringing about any other no_longe~ in contact with the racquet, and without considering any effect
change in rheir action (viz. bodies we call 'white'), and others bring about of tts weight, size or shape. For there is no point in going into such details
an additional change si milar to that which the movement of a ball here, sioce none of these factors is in volved in the action of light to
undergoes whe11 we graze it (11iz. bodie.s which are red, or yellow, or blue which the present inquiry must be related. It is only necessary t0 note that
or some other such colour). For I believe I can determine the nature of the .rower, whatever ic may be, which causes the ball to continue moving
each of these colours, and reveal it experimentally; bur this goes beyond is different from that which determines it to move in one direction rather
the limits of my subjcct. 1 All I need to do here is to point o ut that the than another. It is very easy co recognize this from the fact that the
light-rays falling on bodies which are coloured and not polished are movement of the ball depends upon the force wich which it has been
usually reOecced in every direction even if they come from only a si ngle impelled by the racquec, and this same force could ha ve made it move in
direction ... Finally, consider that the rays are also deflected, in the same any other direction as easily as towards B; whereas the ball's tending
93 way as the ba ll just described, when they fall obliquely on the surface of a towards Bis determined by the position of the racquet, which could have
transparent body and penerrace this body more or less easily than the determined the ball in the same way even if a different force had moved
body from which they come. This mode of deflection is called 'refrac it. This shows already that it is not impossible for the ball to be deflected
tion'. by_its encounter _with the ground, and hence that there could be a change
1n its dctcrmmatton to tend cowards B without any change in the force of
OISCOURS! TWO : RE FRACTION it s movement, since these are two different things. Consequently we must
not imagine, as many of our philosophers do, that it is necessary for che
Later on we shall need to know how to determine exactly the quantity of ball to stop ac point B for a moment before returning towards F. For if its
this refraction, and since the comparison I have just used enables this to motion were once interrupted by such a hale, no cause could be found
be understood q uite easi ly, I think it appropriate for me to try to explain which would make it start up again afterwards. Moreover, it must be
it here withou t more ado. I shall speak firsc about reflection, in order to noted that not only the determination to move in a certain direction but 9 5
make it easier to understand refraction. Let us suppose that a ball also the motion itself, and in general any sort of quanticy, can be divided
impelled by a tennis racquet from A to B meets at point B the surface of into a ll chc parts of which we can imagine that it is composed. And we
the ground CBE, which stops its further passage and causes it to be can easily imagine thac the determination of che ball ro move from A
deflecced; and let us see in what direction it will go [Fig. x]. To avoid towa rds B is composed of two others, one making it descend from line
Cf. Descript;on of the Hwnan Body, p. 313 ~low. AF wwards line C~ and the other making it at the same time go from the
Optics Optics 159

left AC towards the right FE, so that these two determinations joined another - from which it follows that the quantity of these two factors
together direct it to B along che straight line AB. And then it is easy to must be examined separately. And let us also consider that, of the two
understand that its encounter with the ground can prevent only one of parts of which we can imagine this determination to be composed, only
these two determinations, leaving tbe other quite unaffected. for it must the one which was making the ball tend in a downward direction can be
indeed prevem the one which made the ball descend from AF towards changed in any way through its collidi ng with tbe sheet, whi le the one
CE, because the ground occupies all the space below CE. But why shoul.d which was making the ball tend to the right must always remain the same
it prevent the other, which made the ball move to the right, seeing that it as it was, because the sheet offers no opposition at all to the determina-
is not at all opposed to the determination in that direction? So, to tion in this direction. Then, having described the circle AfD with its
discover in precisely wbar direction the ball must rebound, let us describe centre at B (Fig. 2], and having drawn at right angles to CBE the three
a circle, with its centre at B, which passes rhrough point A; and let LlS say straighr lines AC, HB, FE so thar the distance between FE and HB is twice
that in as much time as the ba ll will take to move from A to B, it must that between HB and AC, we shall see that the ball must tend towards the
inevitab ly return from B co a certain point on rhe circumference of the point I. For, since the ball loses half ics speed in passing through the sheer
circle. This holds in so far as the circumference contains all the points CBE, it muse take twice as much time co descend from B co some point on 98
96 which arc as far from B as A is, and tbe ball is supposed to be moving the circumference of the circle !\FD as it rook to go from A to B above the
always at a co11stanr speed. Next, in order to determine precisely lo sheet. And since it loses none of its former determination to advance to
which point on the circumference the ball must return, Ice us draw three the right, in twice the time it took to pass from the line AC
straight lines AC, HB, and FE, perpendicular to CE, so that the distance to HB it must cover twice the distance in the same direction, and con-
between AC and HB is neirher greater nor less than that between HB and sequently it must arrive at some point on the straight line FE simulta-
FE. And let us say that in as much time as the ball took to move towards neously with its reaching some point on the circumference of the circle
the right side from A (one of the points on the line AC) to B (one of rhose AFD. This would be impossible if it did not go towards I, as this is the
on the line HB), it must also advance from 1he line HB to some point on only point below the sheet CBE where the circle AFD and the stra ight line
rhe line FE. For all the points on the line FE arc equidista nt from the FE intersect.
corresponding points on HB, a.s are those on line AC; and also the ball is
as much determined to advance towards that side as it was before. So it is
rhat the ball cannot arrive simultaneously both at some point on the line
FE and at some point on rhe circumference of the circle AFD, un less this
point is either D or F, as these are the only two points where rhe
circumference and the line intersect. Accordingly, since the grou nd
prevents the ball from passing towards D, it is necessary to conclude that
it must inevita bly go towa rds F. And so you can easily see how reflection
rakes place, namel y at an angle always equal to the one we call tbe angle
of incidence. In the same way, if a light-ray coming from point A falls at
point B on the surface of a flat mirtor CBE, it is reflected towards F in
such manner that the angle of reOection FBE is neither greater nor less ...
than the angle of incidence ABC. Fig. '
97 We come now to refraction . First let us suppose that a ball impelled
from A towards B encounters at point B not the surface of the earth, but a Now let us suppose that the balJ coming from A towards D docs not
linen sheet CB which is so thin and finely woven char the ball has strike a sheet ar point B, but rather a body of water, the surface of which
enough force to puncture it and pass right through, losing only so me of reduces its speed by exactly a half, as did the sheet. The ochet conditions
its speed (say, a half) in doing so. Now given this, in order to know what being given as before, I say that this ball must pass from B in a straight
path it must follow, let us consider again that its motion is entirely line not towards D, but towards I. For, in the first place, it is certain that
different from its determinatio1l to move in one direction rather than th e surface of the water must deflect it towards that point in the same
x6o Optics Optics 16r

way as the sheet, seeing that ic reduces the force of the ball by chc same
amount, and chat it is opposed to the ball in rhe same direction. Then, as
for the rest of rhe body of warer which fills all the space between Band l,
99 although it resists the ball more or less than did the air which we
supposed there before, we should not say for this reason that ir must
deflect it more or less. For the water may open up to make way for the
ball just as easily in one direction as in another, at least if we always
assu me, as we do, that rbe ball 's cou rse is not changed by its heaviness or
lightness, or by its size or shape or any other such extraneous ca use. And
we may note here that the deflection of tbc ball by the surface of tbe
water or the sheer is greater, rhe more oblique the angle at which it Fig. 4
encounters it, so rhat if it encoun ters it at a right angle (as when it is
impelled from H towards B) it must pass beyond in a straight li ne less distance between FE and HB than between HB and AC, then point I,
cowards G without being deflected at all. Bur if it is impelled along a line where the stra ight line FE and the circular line AD intersect, will indicate
such as AB [fig. 3], which is so sharply incl ined to the surface of the th e position towards which the ball must be deflected when at point B.
water or sheet CBE that the line FE (drawn as before) docs not intersect Now we can also draw the converse of this conclusion and say that
the circle AD, the ball ought not to penetrate it at all, but ought to since the ball which co mes in a straight line from A to Bis deflected when
rebound from its surface B towards the air L, in the same way as if it had ar poim B and moves on towa rds I, this means that the force or case with
struck the eartb at that point. People have sometimes experienced this to which it penetrates the body CBEI is related to that with which it leaves
their regret wben, firing artillery pieces towards the bonom of a river for the body ACBE as the distance between AC and HB is related to that
fun, they have wounded those o n the shore at the other side. between HB and Fl - that is, as the line CB is to BE.
Finally, in so far as the action of light in tbis respect obeys the same
laws as the movement of the ball, it must be said that when its rays pass
obliquely from one transparent body into another, which they penetrate
more or less easily than the first, they are deflected in such a way that 1ox
rheir inclination to the surface between these bodies is always less sharp
on the side of th e more easily penet rated body, and the degree of this
inclinarion varies exactly in proportion to the varying degrees of
penetrability of the rcspectiYc bodies. 1 Only it must be noted carefully that
this inclination has to be measured by tbe quantity of the straight lines
(CB or AH, EB or JG , and che like) compared to each other, not by that of
fig. 3 angles such as ABH or GBI, and still less by that of angles like DBI which
we call 'angles of refraction'. For the ratio or proportion between these
But let us make yet anotber assumption here, and suppose that the ball, angles varies with all the different inclinations of t he rays, whereas that
100 having been first impelled from A to B, is again impell ed at point B by the between the lines AH and JG, or the like, remai ns the same in all
racquet CBE which increases the force of its motion, Sa)' by a third, so refractions caused by the same bodies. 'Thus, for example [Fig. 5),
that it can then make as much headway in two seconds as it prcYiously suppose a ray passes through the air from A towards B and, meeting the
made in three. This will have the same effect as if the ball were to meet at surface of a lens CBR at point B, is deflected towards l in this lens; and
point B a body of such nature that it could pass throu.gh its surface CBE
t \X'irhout st:)ting it explicitly, Descartes here enunciates the law now known as Snd l's
one-third again more easily than through the air [Fig. 4). And it follows Law. according co which s;,, i = n sin r, where i is ch.e angle of incidence, r the angle of
manifestly from what has already been demonstrated that if you describe refraietion, and /1 :l. constant specific to rhe refractive medium. Cf. letter tO Mersenne,
the circle AD as before, and the lines AC, HB, FE so that there is a third June 1632.
162 Optics Optics r63

Fig. 6
Fig. 5 said it is nothing but a certain mo1ement or an action received in a very
suppose another ray coming from K tow:1rds 8 is deflected towards L, subtle matter which Jills the pores of other bodies. And you should
and another coming from P towards R is deflected cowards S. In this case consider too that, just as a ball loses more of its motion in striking a soft
there must be the same proportion between the lines KM and LN, or PQ body than a hard one and rolls ic>s easily on a carpet than on a
and ST, as between 1\H and LG, buc no t the same between the angles completely ba re ta ble, so the action of this subtle ma tter ca n be impeded
KBM and LBN, or PRQ and SRT, as between ABH an d IBG. much more by the parts of the air (which, being as it were soft and badly
I02. So now you see the way in which refractions have ro be measured. joined, do not offer it much resistance) than by chose of water, which
Although we need to refer to experience in order to determine their offer it more resistance; and still more by those of water chan by those of
quanticy, in so fa r as it depends on che parcicu lar nacure of the bodies in glass, or of crystal. Thus, in so far as the minute pans of a transparent
which they occur, nonetheless we can do chis easily enough and with body arc harder and firmer, the more easily chey allow the lighc to pass;
sufficient cercainry since all refractions are reduced in this way to a for the light does noc have to drive any of them out of their places, as a
common measure. In fact, to discover all che refractions occurring ac a ball must expel che parts of water in order to find a passage through
given surface, ic suffices to exam ine o nl y chose of a single ray, and we can them.
avoid every error if in additi on we examine che refractions in severa l Moreover, knowing in t his way the cause of ch c refractions which xo4
ocher rays. So, if we wish to know the quantity of the re fractions which occur in water and glass and generall y in all the other transp:tl'ent bodies
occur at the surface CBR, separating the air AKP from the lens LIS, we around us, we can note that the refractions occurring when the rays
need only determine the refraction of the ray ABI by examining che emerge from these bodies musr be wholly similar to those occurring when
proportion between lines AH and IG. Then, if we suspect we have failed they enter them. So, if the ray coming from A towards B is deflected from
in this experiment, we must determine the refraction in several other B towards I in passing from the air into a lens, the one which returns
rays, like KBL or PRS; and if we find che same proportion benveen KM from I towards B must also be deflected from B cowards A. Nevertheless
and LN, and berwccn PQ and ST, as between AH and IC, we shall have other bodies may well be found (chiefly in the sky) in which refrac-
no further cause co doubt the truth of our observation. tions result from other causes, and so are not reciprocal in this way. Ai1d
When you make these observations, however, you will pe rhaps be certain cases may also be found in which the rays muse be curved, though
:una:ted ro find thaL ligh t-rays are more sharply inclined in air t han in th ey merely pass through a single transparent body, just as the motion of
water, at the surfoccs where their refraction occurs, and scil l more in a ball is often curved because it is deflected in one direction by its
water than in glass; while just the opposite occurs in the case of a ball, weight and in another by the action with which we have impelled it, or
lOJ which is inclined more sharplr in wacer than in air, and which cannot for various other reasons. For in the end, I venture ro say, the three
pass through glass at all. For example [Fig. 6), if a ball impelled through comparisons which I have just used are so appropriace that all the
the air from A towards B meets a surface of water CBE at poim B, it will particular features which may be observed in them correspond to certain
be deflected from B towards V; and in the case ofa ray, it will go in quite features which prove co be entirely similar in the case of light; but I have
a different direction, from B rowards I. You will no longer find this rricd ro explain only chose which have the most bearing on my subject.
strange, however, if you recall t he nature that 1 ascribed to light, when I And I do not wish to have you consider anything else here, except that
Optics Optics

the surfaces of transparent bodies which are curved deflect the rays the nerves that the impressions formed by objects ill the external parts of
105 passing through each of their points in the same way as would the Rat th e body reach the soul ill the brain . For we observe various accidents
surfaces that we can imagine touching these bodies at the same points. which cause injury only to a nerve, and destroy sensation in all the parts
So, for example [Fig. 7], the refractinns of the rays AB, AC, AO, which of the body to which this nerve sends its branches, without causing it to
' diminish elsewhere .. .1 We must take care not to assume - as our (n2)
philosophers commonly do - that in order to have sensory perceptions
the soul must contemplate certain images2 transmitted by objects to the
brain; or at any rate we must conceive the nature of these images in a n
entirely different manner from t hat o f the philosophers. For since their
conception of the images is confined to the requi rement that they should
resemble the objects they rep resent, the philosophers cannot possibly
show us how the images can be formed by the objects, or how they can be
received by the external sense organs and transmitted by the nerves to the
brain. Their sole reason for positing such images was that they saw
Fig. 7 how easily a picture can stimulate our mind to conceive the objects
depicted in it, and so it seemed to them that, in the same way, the
come from the flame A and fall on the curved surface of the crystal ball
mi11d must be stimulated, by little pictures formed in our head, to concei ve
BCD, must be regarded in the same way as if AB fell on flat surface EBF,
the obj ects that affect our senses. We should , however, recall that our
AC on GHC, and AD on IOK, and likewise for the others. From this you
mind can be stimulated by many things other than images - by signs and
can see that these rays may be variously focussed or dispersed, according
words, for example, which in no way resemble the things they sign ify.
as rhey fa ll on surfaces which are differently curved. But now it is rime for
Alld if, in order to depart as little as possible from accepted views, we
me to begin describing the structure of the eye, so as to enable you to
prefer to maintain th at the objects which we perceive by our senses really
understand how the rays which enter it are so disposed there as to cause
send images of themselves to the inside of our brain, we must at least TI 3
visual perception ... 1 observe that in no case does an image have to resemb le the object it
represents in al l respects, for otherwise there wo uld be no distinction
109 D ISCO URS E FOU i\: THE SENS E S JN GENERAL
between the object and its ilJlage. It is enough that the image resembles its
Now I must tell you something about the nature of t he senses in general, o bject in a few respects. Indeed the perfection of an image often depends
tbe more easily to explain that of sight in particular. We kuow for cenain on its not resembling its object as much as ir might. You can see rhis in
that it is the soul which has senso ry perceptions, and not the body. For the case of engravings: consisting simply of a little ink placed here and
when the soul is distracted by an ecstasy or deep contemplation, we see there on a piece of paper, they represent to us forests, towns, peop le, and
that the who le body remains without sensation, even th ough it bas even ba ttles and storms; and although they make us think of countless
various objects touching it. Aiid we know that it is not, properl y differen t qual ities in these objects, it is only in respect of shape that there
speaking, because of its presence in the parts of the body which function is any real rese mblance. And even this resem blance is very imperfect,
as organs of the external senses t hat the soul has sensory perceptions, but since engravings represe nt m us bodies of vary ing relief and depth on a
because of its presence in t he brai n, where it exercises the faculty called surface which is entirely flat. Moreover, in accordance with the rules of
the 'common' sense. 2 For we observe illjuries and diseases which attack perspective they often represent circles by ovals better than by other
the brain alone and impede all th e senses generally, even rhough the rest circles, squares by rhombuses better than by other squares, and similarl y
of the body continues to be animated. We know, lastly, that it is through for other shapes. Thus it often happens that in order to be more perfect as

1 Discot1tse Three, CH\ the eye, is ornined here. For an English version of this and material 1 There follows an ;J.C<'Ounr of the function of the nerves and :tnimal spirits in producing
omitred below, see Descartes: Discourse on Method, Optjcs, Ceomttry tmd Meteor s<.nsarion and movement. Cf. T,-eatist on Man, AT XI 131(1 and l'a$siom, pp. 33 1-8
ology, tr. P. j . Olscomp (lndianopolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1965). below.
2 Cf. Rules, p. 4 l ahovt~ and l'as5iom, pp. ) 4 i ff below. .z. Sec footnote 11 p. t54 above.
166 Optics Optics

an image and co represent an object bener, an engraving oughc noi co oacural shape, according to che distance of the objecrs (for if you squeeze I I 7
resemble ic. Now we must think of che images formed io our brain in just it jusc a little more or less than you ought, the picture becomes less
the same way, and note chat the problem is co know s1111ply how chey cnn distinct) ... 1
enable the soul ro have scn~ory perceptions of all the various quali ties of Now, when you have seen this picture in the eye of a dead animal, and ( c24)
the objects to which t hey correspond - not to know how they can considered its causes, you cannot doubt thac a quite similar picture is
114 resemble these objecrs. fo r instance, when our blind man touches bodies formed in ch e eye of a living person, on the internal membrane for which
with his stick, rhey ccnainly <lo not transmit anyrhing to him except in so we substituted the white body - indeed, a much better one is formed
far as chey cause his ~ri ck to move in different ways according ro the there since the humours in this eye are full of animal spirits and so are
dj(ferent qualities in chem, rims likewise setring in morion che nerves in more transparent and more exact ly of the shape necessary for this ro
his hand, and rhen the regions of his brain where chese nerves originate. occu r. (And also, perhaps in che eye of an ox che shape of the pupil,
This is whac occasions his soul to have sensory perception of just as many which is not round, prevents chc picture from being so perfect.) ...
differenc qualities in these bodies as there are differences in che move- The images of objecrs are noc only formed in chis way at the back of (n8)
ments caused by chem in his brain. the eye but also pass beyond inco che brain . ..2

D ISCOURS E FIVE: THE IMAGE S WJIICH ARE FORMED ON T H E DISCOUR SE SIX : V I S I ON 130
BACKOFTHEEYI!
Now, when this picture thus passes to the inside of our head, it srill bears
You see, chen, thar in order co have sensory perceptions the soul does not some resemblance to the objects from which ic proceeds. As I have amply
need co comemplare any images resembling che things which it perceives. shown already, however, we muse not think that it is by means of this
And yet, for all that, the objecrs we look ac do imprint quite perfect resemblance chat the picrure causes our sensory perception of these
images of themselves on the back of our eyes. This has been very objccrs - as if there were yet oiher eyes within our brain with which we
ingeniously explained by the following compMison. Suppose a chamber could perceive it. Instead we must hold that it is che movements
is all sh ut up apace from a single hole, and a glass lens is placed in from of composing this pictu re which, acting directly upon o ur soul in so far as it
this hole with a whi te sheet stretched at a certain distance behind it so is united to our body, arc ordained by nature to make it have such
that the light coming from objects outside forms images on the sheet. sensations. l w ill exp lain this in more detail. All the qualiti es which we
1J5 Now it is said that the room represents the eye; the hole, the pupil; che perceive in the objects of sight can be reduced to six principal ones: lighc,
lens, the crystalline humour, or rather all the parts of the eye which cause colour, position, distance, size and shape. Firsc, regarding light and
some refraction; and the sheet, the internal membrane, which is com- colour (the only qualities belonging properl y to the sense of sighc), we
posed of 1he optic nerve-endings. muse suppose our soul robe of such a nature that whar makes 1c have the
But you may become more cenain of this if, taking the eye of a newly sensation of light is the force of the movemenrs caking place in the
dead person (or failing that, the eye of an ox or some other large animal), regions of che brain where the optic nerve-fibres originate, and whac
you carefully cm away the three surrounding membranes a1 che back so makes it have the sensation of colour is che manner of these movements. Ip
as ro expose a large part of the humour wirho111 spilling any . Then cover Li kewise, tbe movements in the nerves leading to the ears make the sou l
the hole with some white body thin enough to let light pass through (e.g. hear sounds; those in the nerves of the tongue make it taste flavo urs; and,
a piece of paper or an egg-shell), and put thi s eye in the hole of a specially in general, movements in the nerves anywhere in the body make the soul
made shutter so that its fronc faces a place where there are various objects have a tickling sensation if they are moderate, and a pain when chey are
lit up by the sun, and its back faces the inside of che room where you arc coo violent. But in all chis there need be no resemblance between che ideas
standing. (No light must encer the room except what comes through this which the soul conceives and the movements which cause these ideas.
eye, all of whose pares you know to be emirely transparent.) Having done You will readily gram chis if you note that people struck in the eye seem to
this, if you look at chc white body you will sec chcrc, not perhaps without see countless sparks and flashes before them, even chough they shut their
wonder and pleasure, a picture representing in na tural perspective all che J J\ diiagr:un is omitted here and the: text abric.lgtd.
n6 objects ourside - at any rate you will if you ensu re that che eye keeps its 1 HC'l'C Desi:.irtt.':li repeats the account given in the Treatise on M.atr, pp. 105 above.
168 Optics Optics
eyes or are in a \cry dark place; hence thi s sensation can be ascribed only occupied by each fibre has to be regarded as if it were only a single
to the force of 1he blow, which sets the optic nerve-fibres in motion as a point. This is why a field decked out in countless different colours often
bright light would do. The same force might make us hear a sound if it appears from a distance to be all white or all blue; why, in general, all
affected the ears, or feel pain if it affected some other part of rhe body. bodies arc seen less discinctly from a distance than close ac hand; and
This is also confirmed by rhe fact char whenever you force your eyes to finall) why the grcarcr the area which we can make the image of a single
look at 1he sun, or al rorne other very bright light, they retain its object occupy at the back of che eye, the more distinctly it can be seen.
impression for a shor1 time af1erwards, so that even with your eyes shut We shall need to take special note of this fact later on.
you seem to sec various colours which change and pass from one to As regards position, i.e. rhe orientation of each part of an object
another as they fade away. This can only resu lt from the fact that the relat ive co our body, we perceive it by means of our eyes exactly as we do
optic nerve-fibres have been set in motion with extraordinary force, and by means of our hands. Our knowledge of it does not depend on any
cannot come ro rest as soon a~ they usually can. Bm the agitation image, nor on any action coming from the object, but solely on the
131. remaining in them when the eyes are shut is not great enough co represent position of the tiny pares of the brain where the nerves originate.
the bright lighr th:it c:tused it, and thus it represents the less vivid colours. For this position changes ever so slightly each time there is a change
That these colours change as they fade away shows that rheir narure in the posirion of the limbs in which the nerves are embedded. Thus it
consists simply in the diversity of the movement, exactly as I have already is ordained by nature to enable the soul not only co know the place 1})
suggested. And finally this is evidenced by the frequent appearance of occupied by each part of the body it animates relative to all che others,
colours in 1ransparent bodies, for it is certain that nothing can cause this bur also to shift attem ion from these places to any of those lying
except the various ways in which the light-rays are received there. One on che st rnighc lines which we can imagine co be drawn from the
example is the appearance of a rainbow in the clouds, and a still clearer extremity of each pare and extended to infinity. In rhe same way, when
example is th e likeness of a rai nbow seen in a piece of glass cur on many rhe blind man, of whom we have already spoken so much, turns his hand
sides. A towards E [Fig. 81, or again his hand C cowards E, the nerves
But we muse consider in dernil what determines the quantity of the
light which is seen, i.e. the quantity of the force with which each of the
optic ncrl'c-fibrcs is moved. For it is not always equal to the light which is
in the objects, but va ries in proportion to their distance and the size of the
pupil , and also in pro portion to the area at the back of the eye which may
(r 33) be occupied by the rays co ming from each point of the object . .. \Vie
must also consider that we cannot di scriminate the parts of the bodies we
are looking at except in so far as they differ somehow in colour; and
distinct vision of rhcsc colours depends nor on ly on the fact that all the
Fig. 8
rays coming from each point of the object converge in almost as many
different points at the back of the eye, and on the fact that no rays reach
the same points from elsewhere .. . but also on the great number of optic embedded in that hand cause a certain change in his brain, and rhrough
nc:rl'c:fibres in the area which the image occupies at the back of the eye. this change his soul can know nor only the place A or C but also all the
134 for example, if an ohject is composed of ten d1ousand parts capable of other places located on the straight line AE or CE; in this way his soul
sending rays to a certain area at the back of che eye in ten thousand can turn its attention to the objects B and D, and determine the places
different ways, and consequently of making t.en thousand colours they occupy without in any way knowing or thinking of those which his
simultaneously visible, these parts nonetheless will enable the soul to hands occupy. Similarly, when our eye or head is turned in some
discriminace only ar most a thousand colours, if we suppose that in this direction, our soul is informed of this by the change in the brain which is
area 1herc arc only a thousand fibres of the optic nerve. Thus ten pares of caused by the nerves embedded in the muscles used for these movements.
the object, acting together upon each of the fibres, can move it in just one ... You must nor, therefore, find it strange that objecrs can be seen in
single way made up of all the ways in which they act, so that the area their true position Cl'Cn though the picture they imprinr upon the eye is 136
Optics

inverted. This is just like our blind man's being able to feel, at one and the
same time, the object B (to his right) by means of his left band, and the
object D {to his left) by means of his right hand. And as the blind man
does not judge a body to be double alchough he touches it with h is two
t) 7 bands, so too, wh en both our eyes are disposed in th e manner required to
direct our attention to one and the same place, they need only make us
see a single object there, even though a picture of it is formed in each of
our eyes.
The seeing of distance depends no more than does the seeing of

_..-~:~:~ /
position upon any images emitted from objects. Instead it depends in the
first place on the shape of the body of the eye. For as we have said, for us /..1 \:
.
to see things dose to our eyes this shape must be slightly different from
the shape which enables us to see things farther away; and as we adjust ... ...-)/
the shape of the eye according to the discance of objects, we change a
f ~:. ..: ... j
,: ... ..
l. . ..
certain part of our brain in a manner that is o rdained by nature to make
our sou l perceive this distance. Ordinarily this happens without o ur
reflecting upon it - just as, for example, when we clasp some body with
our h~nd, we adjust our hand to its size and shape and thus feel it by
.//"/
means of our hand without needing to think of these movements. In the
second place, we know distance by the relation o f the eyes to one
another. Our blind man holding the two sticks AE and CE (whose length
I assume he does not know) a nd knowing on ly the djscance between his
two hands A and C and the size of rhe angles ACE nnd CAE, can tell from
th is know ledge, as if by a natural geometry, where tbe point E is. J\nd
sim ilarly, when our rwo eyes A and B are rurncd towards point X, the
length of the line AB and the size o f the two angles XAB and XBA enable
13 8 us to know where the point Xis. We can do the same thing also with the
aid of only one eye, by changing its position.' Thus, if we keep it turned
towards X and place it first at point A and immediately afterwards at
point B, this will be enough to make our imagination contain the
magnitude of the line AC together with that of the two angles XAB and
XBA, and thus enable us to perceive the distance from point X. And this
is done by a mental act which , though only a very simple act of the
imagination, involves a kind of reasoning quite similar to that used by
surveyors when they measure inaccessible places by means of two
different vantage po in rs. We have yet another way of perceiving distance,
namely by the dimnctness or indistinctness of the shape seen, together
with the strength o r weakness of the light. Thus, if we gaze fixedly
towards X [Fig. 91, the rays coming from objects xo and 12 do not
converge so exactly upon R or T, at the back of our eye, as they would if

r A diagram is omirced here. t'1~. 9


Optics Optics r13

these objects were at poinrs V and Y. From this we see that they are 'common' sense by way of the nerves, if the position of these nerves is
farther from us, or nearer to us, than X. Then, t he light coming from changed by any unusual cause, this may make us see objects in places
object 10 to our eye is stronger than it would be if that object were near other rhan where they arc . .. Again, because we normally judge that the (r42)
V, and from this we judge it to be nearer; and the light com ing from impressions wbicl\ stimulate our sight come from places towards which
object n is weaker than it would be if it were near Y, and so we judge it we have co look in order to sense them, we may easily be deceived when
to be fartl\er away. Finally, we may already have from another source an they happen to come from elsewhere. Thus, those whose eyes are affected
image of an object's size, or its position, or the distincmess of its shape by jaundice, or who are looking through yellow glass or shut up in a
and its colours, or merely the strength of the light coming from it; and room where no ligh t enters except through such glass, attribute this
139 this may enable us to imagine its distance, if not actually to see it. For colour to all the bodies they look at. And the person inside the dark room
140 example, when we observe from afar some body we are used to seeing which I described earlier attrib utes to the white body the colours of the
close at band , we judge its distance much better than we would if its size objects outside because he directs his sight solely upon that body. And if
were less well known to us. If we are looking at a mountain lit up by our eyes see objects through lenses and in mirrors, they judge them to be
sunlight beyond a forest covered in shadow, it is solely the position of the at points where they are not and to be smaller or larger than they are, or
forest that makes us judge it the nearer. And when we look at two ships inverted as well as smaller (namely, when they are somewhat distant
out at sea, one smaller than the other but proportionately nearer so that from the eyes). This occurs because the lenses and mirrors deflect the rays
they appear equal in size, we can use the difference in their shapes and coming from the objects, so that our eyes cannot see the objects distinctly 143
colours, and in the light they send to us, to judge which is the more except by making the adjustments necessary for looking cowards the
distant. points in question. 1 This will readily be known by those who take the
Concerning rhe manner in which we sec the size and shape of objects, I trouble to examine the matter. In the same way they will see bow far the 144
need nor say anytl\ing in particular since it is wholly included in the way ancients went wrong in their catoptrics when they tried to determine the
we see the disrance and the position of their parts. That is, we judge their location of the images in concave and convex mirrors. It must also be
size by rhe knowledge or opinion that we have of their distance, noted that all our methods for recognizing distance are highly unreliable.
compared with the size of the images they imprint on the back of the eye For the shape of the eye undergoes hardly any perceptible variation when
- and not simply by the size of these images. This is sufficiently obvious the object is more than four or five feet away, and even when the object is
from the fact that the images imprilll'ed by objects very close to us arc a nearer the shape varies so little that no very precise knowledge can be
hundred times bigger than those imprinted by objects ten rimes farther obtained from it. And if one is looking at an object at all far away, there
away, and yet they do not make us see the objects a hundred times larger; is also hardly any variation in the angles between the line joining the rwo
instead they make the objects look almost the same size, at least if their eyes (or two positions of the same eye) and the lines from the eyes to the
dist<tnce does nor deceive us. It is obvious coo that we judge shape by the object. As a consequence, even our 'common' sense seems incapable of
knowle4!lc or opini on chat we have of the position of the various parts of receiving in itself the idea of a djstancc greater than approximately one or
an object, and nor by the resen1bla11ce of the pictures in our eyes. for two hundred feet. This can be verified in the case of the moon and the
r41 these pictures usua lly contain on ly ovals and rhombuses when they make sun. Although they are among the most distant bodies that we can sec,
us see circles and squares. and their diameters are to their distances roughly as one to a hundred,
But in order that you may have no doubts at all that vision works as I they normally appear to us as at most only one or two feet in diameter -
have explained it, I would again have you consider tbe reasons why it although we know very well by reason that they are extremely large and
sometimes deceives us. First, it is the soul which sees, and not the eye; extremely for away. This docs not happen because we cannot conceive
and it does not see directly, but only by means of the brain. That is why them as any larger, seeing that we easily conceive towers and mountains
madmen and those who are asleep often see, or think they see, various which are much larger. It happens, rather, because we cannot conceive
objects which are nevertheless not before their eyes: namely, certain them as more than one or two hundred feet away, and consequently their
vapours disturb their brain and arrange those of its parts normally diameters cannot appear to us to be more than one or two feet. The
engaged in vision exactly as they would be if these objects were present.
Then, because the impressions which come from outside pass to the t A diagram is ominec.1 here, ond rhc- text is s.lightly c.-ondensed.
r74 Optics Optics 175

I45 position o( these bodies also helps 10 mislead us. For usually, when they except very weak ones from regions of 1he s ky next to the star). In this
are ver y high in the s ky at midday, they seem smaller 1han they do when case che image of the scar will be spread over the whole area occupied by
they are rising or sening, a nd we can notice thei r distance more easily 1he six nerve-endings marked ?. and may even spread throughout that
because there arc various objects between th em and our eyes. And, by occupied by the twelve marked 3 if the disrurbance is strong enough to be
measuring them with their instruments, the astronomers prove dearly propagated ro them as well. So you can see that the stars, while appearing
thar they appear larger ar one time than at another not because they are racher small, nevertheless appear much larger than their extreme distance
seen to subtend a greater angle, but because they arc judged to be farther should cause them to appear. And even if they we re not perfectly ro und,
away. Ir follows that the axiom of the ancient optics - which says that the chey could not fail to appear so - just as a square tower seen from afar 147
apparent size of objects is proportional to the size of the angle of vision - looks round, and all bodies 1har crace o nly very small images in the eye
is nor a lways true. We are also deceived because white or luminous cannot trace th ere the shapes of their angles. Finally, as regards judge
bodies, a nd gene rally all those which have a g reat power ro stimulate the ment of dista n ce b y size, shape, colour, or light, pictures drawn in
sense of sight, always appear just a little nearer and larger than they perspective show how easy it is to ma ke mistakes . For ofren the things
wo uld if they had less such power. The reason why sucb bodies a ppear depicted in such pictures appear to us 10 be farther off than they are
nearer is that the movement with which the pupil con1racrs to avoid their because they are s maller, while their outlines arc more blurred, and rheir
strong light is so connected with the movement which d isposes the whole colours da rker or fainter, than we imagine they ought to be.'
eye to see near objects distinctly - a movement by which we judge rhe
disrancc of such objects - rhat rhe one hardly ever cakes place without the 1 Tht CO<ttcn1t of the rest of the Optrcs. ond of rh< Meteorology and the Ge0111ctry. ore as
oth er occurring to some extent as well. (In the same way, we cannot fully follows:
Optics
dose the first rwo fingers of our hand without the third bending a little Discourse Seven: lOc: m<"atu of pcrkaing vision
too, ~s if to close with the others.) The reason why these white or DisrourS<": Eight: The shapes d'HU the trans;partnt bodiC$ mus-t ha ..c: in order to dtfkct
luminous bodies appear larger is not only that o u r estimation of their size rars through rrfr:tcrion in all c~e ways which are useful to \'is1011
Discourse Nine: The description of rdcscopes
depends on thac of their dista nce, but also that they impress larger images Discourse Ten: The method of cutting lenses
on rhc back of the eye. For it must be noted that the back of th e eye is
covered by the ends of opric nerve-fibres which, though very small, srill Meteorology
Discourse 1 : The 1rnturt o( terrcsrrial bodies
have some size. Thus each of th em may be affected in one of its pares by Discourse 2.: Vapours and exhalations
o ne o bject and in other parts by other objects. But it is capable of being Discourse 3: Salt
moved in only a single way at a n y given ti me; so when the smallest of its Olscourse 4: Wind.s
Discourse 5: Clouds
parts is a ffec1ed by some very brilliant object, and che others by different Discourse 6: Snow, rain and hail
objects that are less brilliant, the whole of it moves in accordance with Discourse ;: Storms, hghtning ond oll the other fires that blou m the oir
the most brillianr object, presenting its image but not that of the others. Discoun< 8: 1be rainbow
Discourse 9: The colours of clouds and the: circles orco0035 chat "'c: somcumes
Thus, suppose the ends of these little fibres are r, :i., 3 (fig. ro] and th e ..,. around 1he huvenly bodies
rays which come, for example, from a star 10 tra ce an image on the back Oi$COUl'$C 1 0 ! The: appearance of many suns
of the/eye are spread over t, and also slightly beyond over the six
Geometry
nerve-endings marked :i. (which l suppose are reached by no other rays Book T: Problems lhat can be ~h'ed b> constructions using only circle~ and
straight Unts
Book>: tnc n:m1rc of curved linf:'s
Book ; : Problems rcqrncing tht construction of solids and supc11olids

fig. [0
Principles of Philosophy

Translator's preface

As early as 1640 Desca rtes had begun ro work on a presenration of his


philosophical system ' in an order which will make it easy to teach' (lerter
co Mersenne of 3 t December). What he pla nned was a compreheJlSive
university rextboo k which would rival and, he hoped, eventua lly replace
rhe traditional rexes based on Aristotle. He particula rly wanted co
include, though in a more circumspect form, material from his suppressed
treatise, The World. 'My World', he wrote to Consrantijn Huygens on
31 January 1642, 'would be ouc already were it nor rhat first of all I wanr
to reach it to spea k Latin. I shall call it the Stmzma Philosophiae, to help it
gain a better reception among the Schoolrnen, who are now persecuting it
and trying to smother ir a t birth.'
The title which Descartes eventually ado pted was Prin cipia Philo-
sophiae, and the Latin text was first published by Elzevir of Amsterdam
in r644. The work nrns co four pares, each divided into a large number of
short sec tions or 'articles' (there arc five hundred and four in all). Part
One expounds Descartes' metaphysical doctrines (though they are pre-
sented in a very different fashion from that of the Meditations) ; Part T wo
gives a full accounr of the principles of Cartesian physics; Parr Three
gives a detailed explanation, in accordance with those principles, of the
nature of the universe; and Part Four deals similarly with the origins of
the earth and a wide variety of terrestrial phenomena. A further two
parts were originally planned, to deal with planes and an imals, and man,
but these were never completed (sec below, Pan Four, article 188).
A French version of the Principles, by the Abbe Claude Picot (c.
1601- 68), was published by Le Gras of Paris in 1647; Descartes gave the
translation his enthusiastic approval (see his prefatory letter, below p.
17_9). The French text diverges considerably from the original Latin, and
some (though certain ly not all) of these departures were probably
autliodzed by Descartes; the modern translator therefore has to decide
what to do when rhe rwo versions differ. One strategy, adopted by
Ha ldane and Ross, 1 is ro provide a tra nslation 'made from the Latin
version collated with the French', but the resul t is an uneasy arnalgam
wh ich often leaves it unclear whether a given passage represents
See General Introduction, above p. viii.

'77
Principles of Pl1ilosophy

Desca rtes' original text of 1644. To a"oid this drawback, the presenr
version always provides, in the first instance, a direcr rendering of Des- (Preface to the French edition]
cartes' original Larin. A translation of the French version has, however,
also been induded in cases where the French illuminates, or provides a ATIXB
useful supplement to, the Latin; bur such material from the French ver- Author's letter to the translator of the book which may here
sion is always placed within diamond brackets < >, or relegated to serve as a preface 1
foomores, to md1care that it is not to be found in Descartes' original text.
The decision about how often to append a rendering of rhe French is
made easier by the fact rhat the departures from the Latin rum our, on
careful scrutin), ro fall into two distinct categories. (1) Often Picor will
loosely parnphrase the text, sometimes virtually rewriting the original in Sir,1
an auempt to illuminate Descartes' meaning. In most cases there seems The version of my Principles which you have taken the trouble to make
no good reason to render these i111crpretative paraphrases, since the)' is so polished and so thorough as to make rne hope that the work will be
seldom improve on the splendid clarity and precision of Descartes' Latin, more widely read in French than in Latin, and bener understood . .My
and sometimes introd uce needless compl ications of their own (in Part only concern is that the title may put off those many people who have not
One, article 24, for example, the French version inserts a graruitous had an education based on letters or who have a low opinion of
reference to innate notion~ which makes the subseque111 train of thought philosophy becau~e the philosophy they have been taught has nor
incomprehensible). (2.) Quire apart from paraphrases and reinterpreta- satisfied them. T his 1nakes me think rhat it would be a good idea to add a
tions of the origi nal, we find, especiall y in Parts Two to Four, a good deal preface explaining the subject of the book, my purpose in writing it, and
of completely new material, often of co nsiderable interest, which has no th e benefit which may be derived from it. Bm although it would seem to
counterpart at all 111 the Larin. This can vary from a brief supplementary be up to me ro produce this preface because I ought to know these things
comment illustrating some point (e.g. Part T hree, article 29 ) to an better than anyone else, all I can pers uade myself to do here is to
extended discussion 1Vhich can sometimes double the original length of summarize the principal points which I think such a preface should deal 2.
an article (e.g. Part Four, article zo3 ). Much of this new material seems w ith. I leave it ro your discretion to pass on to the pub lic as many of them
roo valuable co o mit; mo reover, there is evidence that some of the as you co11sider to be pertinent.
additions were authorized by Descartes or even directly added by him first of nil , J would have wished to explain what ph ilosophy is,
when lie looked at Picot's version (thus, Frans Burman, who questioned beginning with the most co mmonplace points. For example, the word
Descartes about 1he laws of impact in Part Two, reports him as 'philosophy' means rhe stud y of wisdom, and by 'wisdom' is meanc not
remarking tlrnr 'since many were complaining of the o bscurity of these only prudence in our everyday affairs bur also a perfect knowledge of all
laws, he supplied a linle clarificMion and further explanation in the rhings that ma nkind is capable o f knowing, both for the conduct of life
French edition of t he l'ri11ci/1/es' 1). and for the preservation of health and the discover)' of all manner of
The Principles of Pbilosopby is a very long work, and it has been skills. In order for t his kind of knowledge to be perfect ir must be
necessary to abridge it for the present edition. The translation chat deduced from first causes; thus, in order to set about acquiring it - and it
follows, which is based on the texts in Volumes v111 A (Latin) and 1x B is this activit)' to which the term 'to philosophize' strialy refers - we
(French) of Adam and Tannery, 1 includes all the material that is philo- must start with the search for first causes or principles. These principles
sophical in the modern sense, as well as substantial portions of what must satisfy two conditions. First, they must be so clear and so evident
would nowadays be called 'scienri6c' material, particularly where this that the human mind cannot doubt th eir truth when it auentively
throws light on Descartes' general conception of science. Part One is concentrates on them; and, secondly, the knowledge of other things must
translated in its entirety; in Parts Two, Three and Four, selected articles depend on them, in the sense that the principles must be capable of being
are translated; the titles alone arc supplied for the remaining articles.
J.C. 1 Th1\ prtfacc first appc.1ttd ln tht 16,.7 French cd1oon. The orig.inal Larin text of 164.f
con1a1M no pcefoct .t.p,1n ffOm the short dedicitory lrntr ro Eliza~ translated below,
AT v 1&8; for further C\"1c:knct S AT lX a. Aim1s.ument. pp. 19(>-J.
1 See General lntroJuctK>nJ abO\'C, p. x. 1
1 I ht .1dJrt,,tt 1\ 1hc Abht Pu;oc: it<" Tr.m,.,lator"s pref:a~e. above p. 177.

179
t8o Principles of P/Jilosop/Jy Preface to the Frenc.IJ edition 181

known without knowledge of these other matters, bur not vice versa. reason withou1 the light of faith, is nothing ocher than che knowledge of
Next, in deducing from these principles the knowledge of things which the truth through its fim causes, that is to say wisdom, of which
depen d on them, we must try 10 ensure thm everything in the entire chain philosophy is the study. Since all these pointS are absolutely true, they
of deductions which we draw is very manifest. In truth it is only God who would easily carry conviction if they were properly argued.
3 is perfectly wise, that is to say, who possesse~ complete knowledge of the Whac prevents chese points being accepted is the widespread experi
truth of all things; but men can be said to possess more or less wisdom ence thac those who profess ro be philosophers are ofcen less wise and less
depending on how much know ledge they possess of rbe most important reasonable than those who have never applied themselves co philosophy.
truths. I think that everything I have just said would be accepted by all And so at chis point I would have explained briefly what all rhe
people o f learning. knowledge which we now possess consis ts in and the levels of wisdom
Next, I would have looked ar the benefic..~ of this philosophy and that have so fa r been atta ined. The first level contains only notions which
shown that it encompasses everything which the human mind is capable are so clear in themselves that they can be acquired without meditation.
of knowing. Thus we shou ld consider that ic is this philosophy alone The second comprises every1hi11g we are acquainted wich chrough
which distinguishes us from th e most savage and barbarous peoples, and sensory experience. The third comprises whac we learn by conversing
that a nation's civilization and refinement depends on rhe superiority of with other people. And one may add a fourch cacegory, namely what is
the philosophy which is practised there. Hence the greatest good thar a learned by reading books - nor all books, but chose which have been
state can enjoy is to possess true philosopher... As for the individual, it is written by people who are capable of instruaing us well; for in such cases
nor only beneficial to Live wich chose who apply themselves t0 this smdy; we hold a kind of conversation with cbe auchors. I think that all 1he
it is incomparably better to undertake it oneself. For by the same token wisdom which is generally possessed is acquired in these four ways. I am
ic is undoubtedly much better to use one's own eyes co get about, and also not including divine revelation in the list, because it does not lead us on
to enjoy the beauty of colours and light, than ro close one's eyes and be by degrees bm raises us at a stroke co infallible faith. Now in all ages
led around by someone else. Yer even che latter is much better ch an there have been great men who have cried to find a fifth way of reaching
keeping one's eyes closed and having no guide bur oneself. Living wisdom - a way wbich is incomparably more elevated and more sure
wichout philosophizing is exactly like having one's eyes closed wichout than the other four. This consiscs in the search for the firsc causes and rhe
ever trying to open them ; and the pleasure of seeing evcryching which o ur true pri nciples w hich enable us to ded uce the reasons for everything we
sight reveals is in no way comparable to the sacisfacrion accorded by are capable of knowing; and it is above all those who have laboured to
knowledge of rhe chings which philosophy enables us to discover. Lastly, th is end who have been called philosophers. I am not sure, however, that
the study of philosophy is more necessary for the regulation of our there has been anyone up till now who has succeeded in this project. The
4 morals and our conduct in this life than is the u~c of our eyes to guide our firs t and most important of those whose writings have come down to us
seeps. The bruce beasts, who have on ly their bodies ro preserve, are are Plato and Aristotle. The only difference between these two is that the
continuallr occupied in looking for food to nourish chem; buc human former, following the foocsreps of his mascer Socraces, ingenuously
beings, whose most important pan 1s the mind, should devote cheir main confessed rhac he had never yc1 been able to discover anything certain. 6
effom to che search for wisdom, which is the crue food of the mind. And I He was concent instead co write what seemed co him co be probable, and
am sure that there are many people who would not fail to make the accordingly he used his imagination to devise various principles by means
search if chey had some hope of succc~s and knew how much they were of which he tried ro account for other things. Aristotle, by concrnst, was
capable of. No sou l, however base, is so strongly actached to the objects less candid. Although he had been Plato's disciple for twenty years, and
of rhe senses rhac it does nor sometimes turn aside and desire some ocher, possessed no principles a pare from chose of Plato, he completely changed
greater good, even though it may ofren nor know what this good con sises the method of scaring them and put them forward as 1rue and certain,
in. Those who are most favoured by fortune and possess health, honour though it seems most un like ly that he in fact considered them to be so.
and riches in abundance arc no lllOl'e exe mpt from this desire chan Now these two men had a grear deal of intelligence and much wisdom of
anyone else. On the contrary, l am convinced that ic is just such people the kind chat is acquired in the four ways menrioned above, and this gave
who long most ardently for another good - a higher good chan all those them such greac authority that tho~c who came after them were con tent
that they already possess. Now this supreme good, considered by natural to follow cheir opinions rnthcr 1han look for something bencr. The main
182. l'ri11ciples of Philosophy Preface to the French edition

dispute among cheir disciples was about whether everything should be knowledge of the nature of what is caUed 'graviry', rhat is ro say, the
called into doubc or whether mere were some chings which were certain - cause or principle which makes bodic~ descend in this way, 1 :ind we must
a dispute which led both sides imo extravagant errors. Some of those derive such knowledge from some other source. The same can be said of
who were in favour of doubt extended it even to the actions of li fe, so the void and of atoms and of heat and cold, dryness and humidity, sa lt,
that they neglected to employ common prudence in cheir behaviour; sulphur, mercury and all other simi lar things which some people have
while those who cook the side of certainty supposed that it had to depend proposed as their first principles. Now none of the concl usions deduced
on the seoses and trusted them entirely, to the point where Epicurus, it is from a principle which is nor evident can themselves be evident, even
said, was rash enough to affirm, against all the arguments of rhe chough they may be deduced from the principle in an evident manner. It
astronomers, that the sun is no larger than ir appears. A fault which may follows tl1at none of the arguments based on such principles have been
be observed in the majority of disputes is chat since the truth lies able to.provide rheir proponents with certain knowledge of any1hing, and
7 midway between two positions which arc being mainrained, rhe accordmgly ~uch arguments have not been able ro bring them one step
disputams on each side move further and further away from it as further in 1heir search for wisdom. If they have discovered anything true
their desire to contrad ict the opposing view increases. But the error of ir has been solely by means of one of the four methods ser out above'.
those who leaned too far towards the side of doubt was not followed for Nevertheless, l do not wish to detract in any way from the reputation
very Jong, while rhc opposing el'rOr has co some extent been corrected by which any of these philosophers may cla im. I am simply obliged to point
the recognition rhar rhc senses deceive us in many cases. Nevertheless, I out, for the consolation of those who have never studied, the foll owing
am nor sure that anyone has yet expunged the second error completely by similarity with what happens when we travel: so long as we turn our
explaining the following point: on the one hand, certainty docs nor lie in back on the place we wish to get ro, then the longer and faster we walk
the senses but solely in the understanding, when it possesses evident the funher we get from our destination, so that even if we are 9
perceptions; on the ocher hand, so long as we possess o nly rhe kind of subsequently SCI on the right road we cannot reach our goal as quickly as
knowledge that is acquired by the first four degrees of wisdom we should we would have don<: had we never walked in che wrong direction. The
not doubt rhe probable cruchs which concern che conduct of life, while a1 same thing happens if we have bad principles. The more we develop chem
the same time we should not consider them co be so certain tbat we are and 1he more carefu lly we work at deducing various consequences from
incapable of changing our views when we are ob liged to do so by some them in our belief that we arc phi losop hi zing well, the further we move
evident reason. Because of failu re to recognize thio truth, or to make use from know ledge of the truth and from wisdom . The conclusion thot must
of it in the case of rhose few who have recognized it, the majority of chose be drawn from this is rhat among those who have studied whatever has
aspiring to be philosophers in the last few centuries have blindly followed been called philosophy up rill now, those who have learnt rhe least are
Aristotle. Indeed chey ha,c often corrupted rhe sen~ of his writings and rhe most capable of learning crue philosophy.
attribured to him various opinions which he would nor recognize to be Afcer fully explai ning these maners, I would have wanted next to put
his, were he now 10 recurn to this world. Those who have nor followed down 1hc reasons which serve to prove that the true principles, enabling
Aristotle (and this group includes man y of the best minds) have one to reach the highest degree of wisdom which constitutes the supreme
nevertheless been saturaced with his opinions in their youth (s ince these good of human life, are the principles which I have set down in this book.
are the only opinions taught in the Schools) and this has so dominated Just two reasons are enough 10 prove the point: th e first is that the
their outlook rhar they have been unable to arrive at knowledge of true principles :ire very clear, and the seco nd is that they enable all ocher
principles. Although I respect all these thinkers and would not wish to things to be deduced from rhem. T hese are the only rwo condicions that
make myself disliked by criticizing chem, I can give a proof of what I say such principles musc meet. Now I can easily prove that the principles are
8 which I do not think any of rhcm will reject, namely that they have all put very dear. This is shown b)' the way in which I discovered them, namely
forward as principles things of which they did nor possess perfeCI by re1cccing everything in which I could discover the least occasion for
knowledge. For example, there is not one of them, so far as I know, who doubt; for it is certain that principles which it was impossible 10 reject in
has not supposed there to be weight in terrestrial bodies. Yet although th1' way, when one attentively considered chem, are the clearest and most
experience shows us very clearly that the bodies we call 'heavy' descend cvitlcnr char chc human mind can know. Thus l considered rhat someone
towards the centre of the earth, we do not for all that have any 1 Sec footnote 1, I' J.34 btlow.
Principlts of Philosophy !'reface to the Fre11ch editio11 185

who wishes to dou bt everything cannot, for all that, doubt that he exists recognize the true value of other people's writings than those who have
1o while he is doubri ng; and tha t what reasons in this way, being unable to not absorbed my views. T his is the exact opposite of whar I said above
doubt itself while doubting everyth ing else, is not what we call our body about those who have started wirh rrnd itional philosophy, namely that
but what we ca ll o ur soul o r our t hought. Accordingly I took the being or the more they have studied it the less fi tted they generally a re to acq uire a
existence of this thought as my first principle, and from it J deduced very sound grasp of true philosophy.
clearly the following principles. There is a God who is the author of I would also have added a word of advice about the way to read this
everything there is in the world; further, since he is the source of all book. I should like the reader first of all to go quickly through the whole
truth, he certainly did not create in us an understanding of the kind book like a novel, without straining his attention too much or stopping at 12
which wou ld be capable of mak ing a mistake in its judge ments concern the difficulties which may be encountered. The ai m should be merely to
ing the things of which it possesses a very clear and very distinct ascertain in a general way which mancrs I have dealt wirh . After this, if he
perception. 'J11ese a re all t he pri nciples that l make use of with regard to fi nds that these matters deserve to be exa111ined and he has rhe curiosity
immateria l or metaphysical things, and from them I deduce very clearly to ascerta in their causes, he may rea d the book a second rime in order to
the principles of corporeal or physical things, namely that there arc observe how my arguments follow. But if he is not always able to see this
bodies which arc extended in length, breadth and depth, and which have fully, or if he does not understand all the arguments, he should not give
various shapes and move in various ways. Here, in total, are all the up at once. He should merely mark with a pen the places where he finds
principles which I use to deduce the truth of ocher things. The other the difficulties and continue to read on to the end without a break. If he
reason which proves tbe cla rity of these principles is that th ey have been then takes up the book for the third time, I ventu re ro chink he will no w
known for all time and indeed accepted as true and indubitable by find the so lutio ns to most of the di fficu lties he marked before; and if an y
everyo ne, with the sole exception of the existence of God, wh ich some still rema in, he will discover their so lution on a final re-reading.
people have called into doubt because they ha,e attributed too much to An examination of the nature of many different minds has led me to
sensory perceptions, and God cannot be seen or touched. Yet although observe that rhere are almost none that are so dull and slow as to be
all the truths which l include among my principk-s have been known for incapable of forming ~ound opinions or indeed of grasping all the most
all rime by everyone, there has, so fa r as I know, been no one up till now advanced sciences, provided they receive proper guidance. And this may
who has recognized them as the principles of philosophy, that is to say, as also be pro ved by reason. For since the principles in quesrion are clear,
1 r the princip les which enable us to deduce the knowledge of all the other and nothing is permit ted to be ded uced fro m them except by very evident
things to be found in the world. This is why it remains for me here to reasoning, everyone has enough intelligence to un derstand the things
prove that they do indeed qualify as principles of this sort; and I think which depend on them. Lf we leave aside the problems caused by
that the best way of doing this is to get people to sec by experience that preconceived opinions, from which no one is enrirely free (although those
this is so, that is to say, to invite my readers to read this book. Admittedly, who have smdied bad science the most arc the greatest victims), then it
I have not dealt with all things, for this would be impossib le. But I think I almost always happens tbar people of moderate intelligence neglect to 13
have expla ined all the things I have had occasion to de:1l wi th in such a stu dy because they do not th ink they are capable of it, while the o thers,
way that those wbo read the book atten tively will be conv inced that in who are keenest, press on too q uickly, with t he result that they often
order to arrive at the highest knowledge of which the human mind is accept principles wh ich arc not evident, and draw uncertain inferences
capable rherc is no need ro look for any principles other than those I from them. This is why I should like ro assure those who are ovcr-
have provided. This will be especially clear if, after reading what I have diffident about their powers rhar there is nothing in my writings which
written and also perusing the writings of others, the reader takes the they ore not capable of completely understanding provided they take the
trou ble to consider the number and the diversity of the topics explained trouble to examine them. I would, however, also like to warn the o thers
in my book, and sees by comparison ho w few plausible arguments oth ers th::it even rhe most excellent minds will need a g reat dea l of time and
have been able to produce in attempting to ex plain 1'11ese same topics by 0 11c 111 ion in o rder to look at all the thi ngs which I set myself ro include.
means of principles which differ from mine. To enable my readers to follow ing o n from this, in order to get people to see t he purpose I had
undertake this survey with greater ease, I could have told them that chose 111 publishing my work, I would wish to explain here the order wh ich I
who have absorbed my opinions find it much easier to understand and think we should follow when we aim to instruct ourselves. First of all, a
r86 Principles of P/Ji/osoplJy Preface to the French edition

man who still possesses only the ordinary and imperfect knowledge that not yet know a better one. The remaining pans were three treatises: the
can be acq uired in the four ways explained above should try before Optics, che Meteorology and the Geometry. ln rbe Optics my purpose
anything dse to devise for himself a code of morals which is sufficient to was to show that one could make sufficient progress in philosophy 10
regulate the actions of bis life. For this is something which permits no enable one to achieve knowledge of the arts which are beneficial for life;
delay, since we should endeavour above all else to live well. After that, he for the designing of telescopes, which I explained there, is one of rhe most
shou ld study logic. I do not mean the logic of the Schools, for this is difficulc projects ever anempted. 1 In the Meteorology I wanted people 10
strictly speaking nothing but a dialectic which teaches ways of expound recognize the difference that exisrs between the philosophy I practise and
ing to others whac one already knows or even of holding forth without that which is taught in the Schools, where rhe same subject-matter is
judgement about things o ne does no t know. Such logic corrupts good normally dealt wi ch.2 Fi nally, in the Geometry, I ai med to demonst rate
sense rather than increasing it. I mean instead the ki nd of logic which th at I had discovered severa l 1hings wh idi had hitherto bee n unknown,
c4 reaches us to direct our reason with a view to discove.-ing che trurhs of and thus ro promote the belief that many more t hings may yet be
wh ich we are ignorant. Since ch is depends to a great extent on practice, it discovered, in order to srimulare everyone to undertake the search for i6
is good for rhe srudent to work for a long time at practising the rules on truth. Later on, foreseeing the difficulty which many would have in
very easy and simple q uestions like chose of mathematics. Then, when he grasping the foundations of metaphysics, I tried to explain the principal
has acquired some skill in finding the rruch on these questions, he should points in a book of Meditations. Although this work is not very large, rhc
begin to tackle true philosophy in earnest. The first part of philosophy is size of the volume was increased, and c:he contents grearly clarified, b)' the
metaphysics, which contains the principles of knowledge, including che addition of the objections that several "cry learned persons sent me on rhe
explanation of the principal anribmcs of God, the non-material nature of subject, and by the replies I made to them. And finally, when I thought
our sou ls and all the clear and dis1inc1 norions which are in us. The char these earl ier works had sufficiently prepared the minds of my readers
second part is physics, where, afrer discovering the crue principles of to accept the Principles of Philosophy, I published these coo. I divided the
marcrial chings, we examine the gencrnl composition of the entire book into four pans. The first contains the principles of knowledge, i.e.
universe and rhen, in parricu lar, the nature of this earth and all the bodies what may be call ed ' first philosophy' or 'metaphysics'; so in order to gain
which are most commonly found upon it, such as air, water, fi re, a sound understand ing of this pare it is appropriate to read first of all the
magneric ore and other minerals. Next we need to examine individ uall y Meditations which I wrote on the same subject. T he other three parts
the nature of plants, of animals and, :ibovc all , of man, so that we may contain all that is most general in physics, na1nely an explanation of the
be capable later on of discovering the other sciences which arc beneficial firsc laws o r pri nci ples of nacure and the manner of composition of the
- to man. Thus the whole of ph ilosophy is like a t ree. The roots are heavens, die fixed stars, the pbners, the comets and, in general, rhe entire
metaphysics, the trunk is physics, and rhe branches emerging from the universe. Next comes a parricular account of the nature of this earth and
rrunk are all the other sciences, which may be reduced to three principal of air, warer, fire and magnetic ore, which are the bodies that arc most
ones, namely medicine, mechanics and morals. By 'morals' I understand commonl)' found upon it, and also an account of all the qualities which
rhe highcsr and most perfect moral S)'Stem, which presupposes a com- we observe in these bodies, suc:h as light, heat, weight and so on. In rhis
plcrc knowledge of the other sciences and is the ultimate level of wisdom. way I consider myself 10 have embarked on an explanation of the whole
1s Now just as it is nor the roots or the trunk of a rree from which one of philosophy in an orderly way, without having omined any of the
gathers 1hc fruit, but only the ends of the br:inches, so the principal
Discourses 8 ond 9 of the Optics provid< detail! discussion of the oprimum shipc ond
benefit of phi losophy depends on chose pares of it which can only be learnt c:o11figur3tion of telescopic len~ts.
last of all. I am ignoran t of almost all of these; but the earnest desire I L 'I regard che minutt parb of ttues1cfal bodiC) as being all composedo( one single kmd oi
have t1 lways had to render service to the public led me, twelve yea rs ago, m:;uter, and believe rh:u each of them coulJ be dlvided repeau.-dly in infinitely ll131l)'
wavs, nnd th<1t there is no more difftrcncc between rhcm than there is berwcen stones of
ro publish a number of essays on subjects where it seemed co me tha t I vnr'ious different shapes cm from the s:ln~e rock . .. But to keep the pe~lCC with the
had lea rnt something. The first part of chcse essays was a Discourse on (schol:1stkl phi le>sophers, I h:ivc no wish to deny an)' ful'ther items which they may
the Method of rightly condttcting one's reaso11 a11d seeking the trnth in 1111:1.,1nc in bodies over and nbcne wh:it I h:ive described, such as their "subsmntial
forrri~ ",their ''real qu.1ltrit'I''. and S-O on. le simply ~ems to me that my ~rgument'S will be
the scie11ces, where I summarized the principal rules of logic and of an 1111 1hc: more ~e<::cpublc in 'l<l far "1.S I can make them depend on fcwtr rhing:ili.'
imperfect moral code which we may follow provisionally while we do Afrteorolog), D1~couN1t' r (AT vr J.t9).
i88 l'rinc.iples of Philosophy Preface to the French edition

17 things which ought to precede the topics I wrore about last. But in order level of wisdom. One sees in all the arrs tha t al though they are at first
to bring the plan 10 its conclusion I should have to go on to ex plain in the rough and imperfect, nevenheless, because they contain some element of
same manner che nature of all the particular bodies which exist on the truth, the effect of which is revea led by experience, they are grad ually
ea rth, namely minerals, plants, animals and, most importantly, man. And perfected by practice. So it is in philosophy: when one has true principles
then to conclude, I shou ld have 10 give an exact account of medicine, and follows them, one cannot fa il to come upon other truths from time to
morals and mechan ics. Th is is what I should have to do in order to give ri me. Indeed the best way of proving the falsity of Aristotle's principles is
to mankind a body of philosophy that is quire complete; and I do not yet to poin t o ut that they have not enabled any progress to be made in all the
feel so old, or so diffident about my powers, or so far away from many centuries in which they have been followed. 19
knowledge of chese remaining topics, that I would not now boldly cry 10 I am well aware that there are some people who are so hasry and use so
bring the plan ro ics conclusion, provided I had the resources 10 make little circumspection in what they do that even with very solid founda-
all the observacions 1 I should need in order to back up and justify my tions they cannot construct anything certain. Since such people arc
argumems. Bue chis, I can see, would require great expense - too great for normally quicker than anyone else at producing books, they may in a
an individual like myself unless he were assisred by tbc public. And since I short time wreck everyt hing I have done. For alrhough I have carefully
do not see that I can expect such assistance, I think thar in future I should tried to banish doubr and uncertainty from my style of philosophizing,
be contem to study for my own private instruction and that future they may introduce these clements into it if their writings arc accepted as
generations will forgive me if from now on I give up working on their mine, or as containing my opinions. I recemly had some experience of
behalf. this from one of those who were reckoned to be paniculal'ly anxious to
Mea nwhile, to show how I think I have already SCf\ed posterity, I will follow me; indeed, I had written of him somewhere rhar I was 'so
here poinr o ur rhe fruirs which I am sure can be deri1ed from my confident of his mtelligence' thar I did not think he held any views that I
principles. The firsc is the satisfaction which will be felt in using them to would not 'gladly have acknowledged as my own'.1 Last year he
discover many truths which have been unknown up till now. For published a book enritled The Foundations of Physics in which, as far as
although the truth often does not touch our imagination as much as physics and medicine are concerned, it appears that everything he wrote
falsehood and prerence, because it seems less striking and more plain, was taken from my writings - both from those I have published and also
!8 nevertheless the satisfaction it produces is always more durable and more from a still imperfect work on the nature of animals which fell into his
solid . The second benefit is that the stud y of rhese pri nciples will hands. But because he copied down the material inaccurately and
accustom people lirrlc by li ttl e ro form better judgements about all the cha nged the order and denied certain truths of metaphysics on which the
thfogs rhey come across, and hence will make them wiser. The effect so whole of physics must be based, I am obliged to disavow his work
produced will be rhe opposite of that produced by ordinary philosophy. enrirely. And I must also beg my readers never to attribute to me any ?.O
For it is easy to observe in those we caU 'pedanrs' th at philosophy makes opinion they do not find explicidy stated in my wrirings. Furthennore,
them less capable of reasoning than they would be if they had never they should not accept any opinion as tru e - whether in my writings o r
lea rnt it. The third benefit is that the truths contai ned in these principles, elsewhere - unless they see it to be very clearly deduced from true
because they are very clear and very certain, will eliminate all ground for principles.
dispute, and so will dispose people's minds to gentleness and harmony. I am also very well aware that m:my centuries may pass before all the
This is the opposite result ro that produced by rhc debates in the Schools, truths rhat can be deduced from th ese principles are acmally so deduced .
which - slowly and without their noticing it - make the participants For the majority of truths rem aining to be discovered depend on various
more argumentative and opinio nated, and hence arc perhaps tbe major particu la r o bservations 2 which we never happen on by chance but which
cause of the heresies and disagreements which now pbgue the world. The musr be sought out with care and expense by very inrclligent people. It
last and greatest fruit of these principles is 1ha1 they will enable those
1 Tht$e' emhu.s1as11c comments appeared in Oescane:s open letter 10 Voet1us (Eprstold ad
who develop chem to discover many truths which I have not explained at C. V0<1iwm) publish! in 1643 _(/\T vm o ' 'JJ- The r<fcncc is to Hmricus Rcgius
all. Thus, moving little by little from one truth to the next, they may in ( 1598- 61'), Profe>sor of /\l<d1onc at Uc~h<, who;c f-wwdamnita pbysicts oppcarcd in
time acquire a perfect knowledge of all philosophy, and reach the highest 16,.6. For details o( Desc.an es' relationship with Regjus sec Tcan~laror's prebcit to
CommtlllJ on a Certain Broadsheet, bdow p. 193 .
1 Fr. e."Cpbic11&.t!s; Cf. Dluour.se. part 6, pp. t 4 J ff, ond footnore p. 143 3bove. .:. Fr. e:~pdrie11ca&; see fo<.Hnotc above p. ' '11
Principles of Philosophy Dedicatory Letter to Elizabeth

will nor easily come abour char rhe same people who have rhe capacity to 'apparent virtues' are certain vices which are not very common and are
make good use of these observarions will have rbe means to make them. the opposites of other better known ones; because they arc farther
What h more, the majority of the besr minds have formed such a bad removed from such vices than the virtues which occupy an imcrmcdoatc
opinion of the whole of phjJosophy, because of the faults rbey have position, they are usually more admired. Thus it is more common ro find
noticed in the philosophy that has been current up till now, that they people who timidly Occ from danger than to find people who rashly
certainly will nor apply themselves to look for a betrer one. Bta perhaps throw themselves into it; and so rashness is contrasted with the vice of
the difference which they see between these principles of mine and all timidiry, as if it were a virtue, and is commonly valued more highly rhan
rhose of other philosophers, as well as the long chain of rrurhs thar can be true courage. Simi larly, someone who is over-generous is often more
deduced from them, w ill fi nally make them realize how important it is to highly praised than one who sives liberally; and again, no one acqui res a
continue in rhe search for these truths, an d to whar a high level of great repmation for piety 111 orc easil y than the superstitious or hypocri
wisdom, and to wha t pe rfection and fel ici ty of life, these truths can bring tica l person.
us. Jf they realize this, I venture to believe that there will not be one of As for the true virtues, many of them a rise not solely fro111 the
rhcm who does not try to apply himself LO such a benefici al srudy, or at knowledge of what is righ t but from some error. Thus goodness is often
least favours and willingly assisrs wirh all his resources those who devote the result of simplicity, picry the result of fear, and courage the result of
rhcmselvcs to it wirb success. My earnest wish is that our descendanrs desperation. Because such vi rtues differ from each other, they go by
may sec the happy ourcome of this project. differenr names. Bur the pure and genuine virrues, which proceed solely
from knowledge ol what is right, all have one and the same nature and
are included under the single term 'wisdom'. for whoever possesses the
(Dedicatory Letter to Elizabeth/ 6rm and powerful resolve always rouse his reasoning powers correctly,
as far as he can, and to carry out whatever he knows co be best, is tru ly
AT VlllA To Her Serene Highness the Princess E/h;,abeth
wise, so far as his narurc permits. And simply because of this, he will
eldest daughter of Frederick, Ki11g of Bohemia,
possess just ice, courage, temperance, and all rhe other virtues; but they
Count Palatine and Elector of the lloly Roman Empire
w ill be interlinked in such a way that no one virtue stands out among the
Your Serene Highness, ochers. Such virrnes arc far superior to those wh ich owe their distin
The greatest reward which l have received from the writings l have suishing marks to some admixture of vice, but bec-ause they a rc less well
previo usly published is that you have deigned to read them ; for as a result known to the majority they do not normally receive such lavish praise.
they have provided the occasion for my being ndmined imo the circle of Now there are two prerequisites for the kind of wisdom just described,
your acquaintance. And my subsequent experience of your great talents namely the perception of the intellect and tbe disposition of the will. But
leads me to think that it would be a service to mankind to set them down whereas what depends on the will is within the capacity of everyone,
as an example to posterity. It would ill become me to use Oancry or to rbere are some people who possess far sharper inrellecrual vision than
put forward any assertion which has not been thoroughly scrutinized, orbers. Those who are by nature somewhat backward inrellectually
especially in a work in which I shall be trying to lay down the should make a firm and faithful resolution to do their utmost to acquire
foundations of the truth. And I know that your generous and modesr knowledge of whar is right, and always ro pursue wha t they judge to be
nature will welcome the simple and unadorned judgement of a philo- right; this should suffice to enable them, despite their ignorance on many
sopher more than the polished compliments of those with smoother points, to achieve wisdom according to their lights and thus to find great
~ rongues. I shall therefore write only what J know to be true eirher from favour with God. Nevertheless they will be left far behind by those who
reason or by experience, and in chis introduction J propose to philo- possess not merely a very firm resolve to act rightly but also the sharpest
sophize just as J do throughout the rest of the book. inrclligence combined with the urmost zeal for acquiring knowledge of
There is a great difference between appa rem virtues and true ones; and the truth.
even in the case of true virrues, there is a great difference between chose T hat such zeal is abundantly present in Your H ighness is clear from rhe
which are derived from an exact knowledge of things and those which fact th:it neither rh e diversions of the Court nor the customary education
are accompanied by some measure of ignorance. What I understand by that ~o often condemns young ladies to ignorance has been able to
Principles of PhilosopJ,y

prevent you from study ing all the worthwh il e arts and sciences. And the
outstanding and incomparable sharpness of your intelligence is obvious
from the penetraring examination you have made of all the secrets of
these sciences, and from the fact that you have acquired an exact
knowl edge of them in so short a time. I have even greater evidence of PR INC IPL ES OF PHILOSO PH Y AT VlllA
your powers - and this is special to myself - in the fact that you are the 5
4 only. person I h~vc so far found who has completely understood all my
previously published works. Ma ny other peopl e, even those of the ut most
acumen and learn ing, find them very obscure; and it generally happens PART ONF.
with almost everyone else that if they are accomplished in Metaphysics
they hate Geometry, while if they have mastered Geometry they do not The Principles of Human Knowledge
grasp what l h.ave ;-iritten on f irst Ph ilosop hy. Your intellect is, to my
knowledge, unique 1n finding everything equal ly clear; and this is why tn)' 1.The seeker after truth must, once in the co11rse of his life, dor;bt
use of 1he term 'incomparable' is quite deserved. And when I consider everything, as far as is possible.
that such a varied and complete knowledge of all things is to be found Since we began life as infants, and made various judgements concerning
not in some aged pedant who has spent many years in contempla tion but the things that can be perceived by the senses before we had the full use of
in a young princess whose beauty and yourh call to mind one of the our reason, there are man y preco nceived opinions that keep us from
Graces rather than gray-eyed Minerva or any of the Muses, then I cannot knowledge of the tru th. 1 It seems that the only way of freeing ourselves
but be losr in admiration. from these opinions is to make the efforr, once in the course of our life, to
Finally, l sec that all the necessary conditions for perfect and sublime doubt everythi ng which we fi nd to contain even t he smallest suspicion of
wisdom, bo1h on the side of knowledge and on the side ol 1he will, shine uncertainty.
fonh in your character. For, togerher with your royal dignity, you show
an extraordinary kindness and gentleness which, though continually 2.. What is doubtful should eve11 be co11sidered as false.
buffeted by the blows of fortune, has never become embi ttered or broke n. lndeecl, it will even prove useful, once we have doubted these things, to
I am so overwhelmed by tl1is that I consider chat this sca1ement of my consider them as false, so thot our discovery of wha t is most certain and
philosophy should be offered and dedicated 10 the wisdom which I so easy to know may be all the clearer.
admire in you - for philosophy is nothing else but the srudy of wisdom.
And indeed my desire to be known as a philosopher is no greater than my 3. This doubt should 11ot meanwhile be applied to ordinary life.
desire t0 be known as T his doubt, wh ile it continues, should be kept in check and employed
Your Serene H ighness's most de,oted servant, solely in connection w ith the contemplation of the truth. As far as
Descanes ordinary life is concerned, the chance for ac1ion would frequently pass us
by if we waited until we could free OUJsclves from out doubts, and so we
are o ften compelled to accept wlrnt is merely probable. From time to time
we may even have to make a choice between two alternatives, even
though it is not apparent that one of the two is more probable than the
other.

4 . Tl1e reasons for dor;bt concemillg the 1J1111gs that ca11 be perceived by
the senses.
Given, th en, that our efforts arc directed solely co the search for truth,
our initial doubts will be about the ex istence of the objects of sense-

9l
194 Principles of Philosophy Part One 195

6 perception and imagination. The first reason for such doubts is rhat from suppose that we, who are having such thoughts, are nothing. For it is a
time ro rime we have caught our the senses when they were in error, and con tradiction to suppose that what thinks does not, at the very time
iris prudent never to place too much trusr in those who have deceived us when it is thi nking, exist. Accordingly, this piece of knowledge' - I mn
even once. The second reason is that in o ur sleep we regularly seem to thinking, therefore I exist - is the first and most certain of all to occur tO
have sensory perceptio n of, or to imagine, countless thi ngs which do not anyone who philosophizes in an orderly way.
exist anywhere; and if our do ubts are on the sca le just outlined, there
seem to be no marks by means of which we can with certainty distinguish
8. In this way tQe discover the distinction between soul and body, or
between a thinking thing and a corporeal thing.
being asleep from being awake.
This is rhe best way ro di sco ver the na ture of rhe mind and the distinction
5. The reasons for dor.ibting eve11 mathematical demomtrations. between the mind and the bod y. For if we, who are supposing that
Our doubt will also appl y ro other matters wh ich we previously rega rded everythi ng which is distinct from us is false,2 examine what we are, we
as most certain - even the demonstra tions of mathematics and even the see very cleady thar neither extension nor shape nor local motion, no r
principles which we hitherto considered to be self-evident. One reason anything of this kind which is attributable to a body, belongs to our
for this is that we have sometimes seen people make mistakes in such nature, but that thought alone belongs to it. So o ur knowledge of our
matters and accept as most certain and sell-evident things which seemed t hought is prior to, and more certain than, om knowledge of any
false to us. Secondly, and most importantly, we have been told that there corporeal thing; for we have already perceived it, altho ugh we are still in
is an om nipotent God who created us. N ow we do not know whether be doubt abom other things.
may have wished to make us beings of the son who are always deceived
9. \VIbat is meant by 'thought'.
even in those matters which seem to us supremely evident; for such
B)' the term 'thought', I understand everything which we are aware of as
constant deception seems no less a possibility than the occasional
happening within us, in so far as we have awareness of it. Hence,
deception which, as we have noticed on previous occasions, does occur.
thinking is to be identi fied here not merely with understanding, willing
We may of course suppose that our existence derives not from a
and imagining, but also with sensory awareness. For if l say 'I
supremely powerful God but either from ourselves or from some other
source; but in that case, the less powerful we make the aurhor of our am seeing, or l am walking, t herefore l exist', and take this as appl ying to
coming into being, the more likely it wil l be that we are so imperfect as to visiorJ or walking as bodily activities, then the conclusion is not
be deceived all rhe time. absolutely certain. This is because , as often happens during sleep, it is
possible for me to rh in k I am seeing or walking, though my eyes are
6. W e have free will, enabling 11s to withhold our assent in doubtful closed and I am not moving about; such rhoughts might even be possible
matters and hence avoid error. if 1 had no body at all. But if l rake 'seeing' or 'walking' to apply to the
But whoever turns out co have created us, and however powerful and actual sense or awareness of seeing or walking, then the conclusion is
however deceitful he may be, in rhe meantime we nonetheless experience quite certain, since ir relates to the mind, wh ich alone has rhe sensatio n
within us the kind of freedom which enab les us always to refrai n from or thought that it is seeing or walking.
believing things which are not completel y certain and thoroughly ex-
10. Matters which are very simfJle and self-evident are only rendered
amined. Hence we are able to take precaut ions against going wrong on
more obscure by logical defmitions, and should not be counted as
any occasion.
items of know ledge which it takes effort to acquire.
7. It is not possible for u s to doubt that we exist while we are doubting; I shall nor here expla in man y of the other terms which l have already
and this is the first thing we com e to know when we philosophize in used or will use in what follows, beca use they seem to me to be
an orderly way. sufficiently self-evident. I have often noticed that philosophers make th e
7 In rejecting-and even imagining to be false -everything which we can in r ' . . . this in ference' (French version).
any way doubt , it is easy for us to suppose that there is no God and no z. Lm. fa/sum . Desct1ttc:S usc."S th is term ro refer not vnl)' to proposfrions which a.re false, but
heaven, and that there are no bodies, and even that we ourselves have no also to objects which ::are unrc:~I, spurious or non-existenr. The frenc:h version here reads:
'we who arc now thinking thac there is norhi1~g outside of our thought which rrul)' is or
hands or feet, or indeed any body at all. But we cannot for all that (:XISt:) .. ,'
Principles of Philosophy Part One 197

misrake of employing logical definitions in an attempt to expla in what to which they incorreccly attri buted the power of sense-perception; and
was already very simple and self-evident; the result is that they only make chis is what prevented them from perceiving the nature of the mind.
matters more obscure. And when I said that the proposition I am
thinking, therefore T exist is che first and most certain of all to occur to 13. The sense in which knowledge ofall other things depends on the
anyone who philosophizes in an orderly way, l did not in saying that knowledge of God.
deny tl1at one must first know what tho ught, existence and certainty are, The mind, then, knowing itself, but still in doubt about all ache,. things,
and that it is impossible that that which thinks should noc exist, and so looks around in all directions in order to extend its knowledge further.
forth. But because these are very simple notions, and ones which on their First of all , it finds within itself ideas of many things; and so lo ng as it
own provide us with no knowledge of anything that exists, I did not merely contemplates these ideas and does not affirm or deny the existence
chink they needed to be listed. outside itself of anything resembling chem, it cannot be mistaken . Next, it
finds certain common notions from which it construcrs vari ous proofs;
r x. How our mind is better know" than our body. and, for as long as it attends to chem, it is complcrely convinced of their
In order to realize that the knowledge of our mind is not simply prior to twth. For example, the mind has wi thin itself ideas of numbers and
and more certain than th e knowledge of our bod y, but also more shapes, and it also bas such common notions as: lf you add equals to
evident, we should notice something very well known by the natural equals the results will be equal; from these it is easy to demonstrate that
light: noth ingness possesses no attributes or qual ities. le follows that, tbe three angl es of a triangle equal two right angles , and so on. And so
wherever we find some attributes or qualities, there is necessarily some the mind will be convinced of the truth of chis and similar conclusions, so
thing or substance co be found for chem to belong t0; and the more long as it attends to the premisses from which it deduced them. Bur it
attribmes we discover in the same thing or substance, the clearer is our cannot attend co chem aH the time; and subsequently, 1 recalling ch at it is
knowledge of that substance. Now we find more attributes in om mind still ignorant as to whether ic may have been created with che kind of
than io anything else, as is mani fest from the face that whatever enables nature that makes it go wrong even in matters which appear most 10

us to know anyth ing else cannot bur lead us to a much surer knowledge evident, the mind sees that it has just cause to doubr such conclusions,
of o ur own mind. Fo r example, if I judge that the earth exists from che and that the possession of certain knowledge wil l noc be possible until it
fact that I touch it or see it, this very fact undoubtedly gives even greater has come to know the author of its being.
9 support for the judgement that my mind exists. For ic may perhaps be the
case that I judge that I am rouching the earth even though che earth docs 1 4. The existence of God is validly inferred from the fact that necessary
nor exist at all; but it cannot be that, when I make this judgement, my existence is included in ottr concept of God.
mind which is making the judgement docs not exist. And the same The mind next considers the various ideas which it has w ithin itself, and
applies in other cases <regarding all the things chat come into our mind, finds that there is one idea - the idea of a supremely intelligent,
namely chat we who think of them exist, even if they are false or have no supremely powerful and supremely perfect being - w hich stands o ut
existence>. from all the ochers. <And it readil)' judges from what it perce ives in this
idea, that Goel, who is the supremely perfect being, is, or exists. For
a . Why this fact does not come to be known to all alike. although it has distinet ideas of many other things it does not observe
Disagreement on chis point has come from those who have not done their anything in them co guarantee the existence of their object. > In this one
pbilosophizing in an o rderly way; a nd the reason for it is simply that they idea the mind recognizes existence - not merely the possible and
have never taken sufficient care co distinguish the mind from the body. contingent existence which belongs to the ideas of all the ocher thiugs
Although they may have put the certainty of their own existence before which it distinctly perceives, but utterly necessary and eternal existence.
that of anything else, they fa iled tO rea lize th at they should have taken Now on the basis of its perception that, for example, it is necessarily
'themselves' in this context to mean their minds alo ne. They were contained in the idea of a triangle that its chree angles should equal two
inclined instead to take ' themselves' to mean only t heir bodies - the 1 '.,. when it hlppens chat it remembers a conclusion without attt>ndfog to che sequence
bodies which they saw with their eyes and to uched with their hands, and which ma.blcs it to be <lcmonstratcd' (added in French version}.
Pri11ciples of Philosophy Part One 199

right angles, the mind is quite convinced that a triangle docs have three which is contained in me idea merely objectively - as in a picture - must
angles equalling two right angles. In the same way, simply on rhe basis of be conta ined in its cause, whatever kind of cause it turns out co be1 and it
its perception that necessary and erernal existence is contained in che idea must be contained nor merely objectively or representatively, but in
of a supremely perfect being, the mind must clea rly conclude that the actual reality, either formally or em inently, 1 ac least in the case of the first
supreme being docs exist. and principal cause.

1. 5. Our concepts of 01/m t/Ji11gs do 11ot similar/) contain 11ecessary 18. This gi11es us a seco11d reason for concluding that Cod exists.
existence, b11t merely contingent existence. Since, then, we have within us the idea of God, or a supreme being,
The mind will be even more inclined to accepr this if it considers that it we may rightly inquire into the cause of our possession of this idea.
cannot fi nd wirhin itself an idea of any orhcr th ing such that necessary Now we find in the idea such immeasurable greamess thac we are quire
existence is seen to be contained in the idea tn this way. And from this it certain chat it could have been placed in us only by something whkh
understands that the idea of a supremely perfect being is not an idea cruly possesses the sum of all perfections, thar is, by a God who really
which was invented by the mind, or which represents some chimera, bur exists. For it is very evident by 1he nacural light not only th'1t nothing
that it represents a trne and immuta ble nmurc which cannot bu t exist, comes from no thing but also chat what is mo re perfect cannot be
since 11 ecessary ex istence is contaiued within it. produced by- rhat is, cannot have as its efficient and tot al cause - what is u
Jess perfect. Furthermore, we cannot have within us the idea or image of
1 6. Preconceived opinions prevent the necessity o( the existence of God an)'thing without there being somewhere, either within us or outside us,
from bei11g clearly recognized by everyone. an original which contains in reality all the perfections belonging to the
Our mind will, as I say, easily accept this, provided that it has first of all idea. And since the supreme perfccrions of which we have an idea are in
completel)' freed itself from preconceived opi111ons. But we have got into no way tu be found in us, we rightly conclude that they reside in
the habit of distinguishing essence from existence in the case of all other something d isrin~'t from ourselves, namely God - or certainly that they
things; and we are also in the habit of making up at will various ideas of once did so, from which it most evidendy follows that they arc scill there.
1 r things which do not ex ist anywhere and have never d one so. Hence, at
times wben we arc nor intent on the contemplatio n of the supre mely 19. Even if we do not grasp the 11ature ofGod, his perfections are
perfect being, a doubt may easily arise as 10 whether the idea of God is k 110 11111 to us more clear/)' tha11 a11y other thing.
not one of those which we made up at will, o r ar leasr one of those which This is ~u fficicntly certain and manifest to those who are used to
do not include existence in their essence. contempla cing the idea of God and ro considering his supreme perfec-
tions. i\lchough we do not fully grasp these perfecrions, since it is in tbe
17. The greater the objective perfection i11 any of 011r ideas, the greater nature of an infinite being not to be fully grasped by us, who are finite,
its ca11se must be. nonetheless we are able co understand them more clearly and distinctly
When we reflect further on the ideas that we have withjn us, we see thm than any corporeal things. This is because they permeate our thought to a
some of them, in so for as they are merely modes of thinki11g, do not greater extent, being simpler and unobscured by any limitations.
di ffer much one fro m another; but in so far as one idea represenrs one <Furthermore, there is no reflcccion which can bener serve to pcrfecc our
thing and another represents another, they differ widely; and the greater undcrsrnnd ing, o r wh ich is more impo n a nt rhan ch is, in so far as the
the amo unt of objective ' perfection they contain within themselves, the consideration of an object wh ich has no limits to its perfections fills us
more perfect their cause must be. For example, if someone has within with satisfaction and assurance.>
himself the idea of a highly intricate machine, it would be fair 10 ask what
was the cause of his possession of the idea: did he somewhere see such a 2.0. We did 11ot make ourselves, but rvere made by God; a11d
machine made by someone else; or did he make such a dose study of comeq11tt1tly he exists.
mechanics, or is his own ingenuity so great, chat he was able to think it However, this is someching that not everyone takes note of. When people
up 011 his own, although he never saw it anywhere? AH the intricacy have a n idea of some intricate machine, they genera lly know
t If an idea represems some object which is F, chc tdea i:, ~aid to possess 'objecrlve f11~ss. 1 *Io 1>0\1;c:s~ a propc:rty formally is ro J>Ossess u stricdy as dcfintd; to posstss it cmi1te111/y is
or w comain F-ness 'objcctivd)". C(. Med. 111: vol. 11, p. 18. ro ll<J~~('\\ It i11 S<)ltlC higher or mort perfct:t (orm.
Principles of Philosophy Part One 201
200

where they got the idea from ; but we do not in the same way have a these therefore cannot belong to God. For example, the namrc of body
recollection of the idea of God being sent ro us from God, since we have i~c~udes .divis.ibiliry along .with extension in space, and since being
always possessed it. Accordingly, we should now go on tO inquire into dms1ble is an 1mperfect1on, 1t is certain that God is not a body. Ag:1 in, the
the source of our being, give n chat we have within us an idea of the fact that we perceive through the senses is for us a perfection of a kind;
supreme perfections of God. Now it is certainly very evident by the but all sense -perception invo lves being acted upon, and to be acted upon i 4
JS to be dependent on something else. H ence it cannot in any way be
natural light that a th ing which recogni zes something more perfect than
itse lf is not t he source of its own being; for if so, it would have given itself supposed that God perceives by means of the senses, but only that he
all the perfections of which it has an idea. Hence, the source of its being understands and wil ls. And even his understanding and willing does nor
can o nly be someth ing which possesses within itself all these pcrfections - happen, as in our case, b)' means of operations that are in a certain sense
d.istinc~ one from another; we must rather suppose that there is always a
that is, God .
single 1denttcal and perfectly simple act by means of which he simu l-
T} 2l . The fact that our existence has duration is sufficiellt to demonstrate taneously understands, wills and accomplishes everything. When I say
the existence of God. 'everything' I mean all things: for God does no t will rhc evi l of sin, which
It will be impossible for anything to obscure the clarity of this proof, if is 1101 a thing.
we attend to the nature of time or of the duratio n of things . For the
nature of time is such t hM ics parts are not mutuall y dependent, and 24. W'e pass from knowledge of God to knowledge of his creatitres by
never coexist. Thus, from the fact that we now exist, it docs not follow remembering that he is infinite and we are finite .
that we shall exist a moment from now, unless there is some cause - the Now since God alone is the true cause of ever ything which is or can be, it
same cause whi ch originally produced us - which continually reproduces is very clear char the best path to follow when we philosophize will be to
us, as it were, th at is to say, which keeps us in existence. For we easily stare from the knowledge of God himself and cry to deduce an explana-
understand that there is no power in us enabling us to keep ourselves in non of the th ings created by him. l11is is th e way co acqu ire the most
existence. We also understand that he who has so great a power that he perfect scientific knowledge, char is, knowledge of effects through their
can keep us in existence, although we are distinct from him, must be all causes. In orde1 to tackle this task with a reasonable degree of safety and
the more able to keep himself in existence; or rather, he requ ires no other witho ut risk of going wrong we muse tal<e the precaution of always
being to keep him in existence, and hence, in shore, is God. bearing in mind as carefully as possible both that God, rhe creator of all
things, is infinite, and chat we arc altogether fi ni te.
21. Our method of recognizing the existence of God leads to the
simultaneous recognition of all the other at11ibutes of God, in so (ar 25. We must believe everything which God has revealed, even though it
as they can be known by the natural power of the mind.
may be beyo11d 011r grasf1 .
There is a great adva ntage in proving the existence of God by this Hence, if God happens to revea l to us something about himself or Others
method, that is to say, by means of the idea of God. For the method
which is beyond the natural reach of our mind - such as the mystery of
enables us at the same time to come to know the nature of God, in so far
the Incarnation or of the T rinity-we will nor refuse ro bel ieve it, despite
as the feebleness of o ur nature allows. For when we reflect on the idea of the fact that we do not clearly understand it. And we will not be at all
God which we were bo rn with, we see that he is eternal, omniscient,
surprised that there is much, both in rhc immeasurable nature of God and
omnipotent, the source of all goodness and t ruth, the creator of all in the things created by hi m, which is beyond our mental ca pacity.
th ings, and finall y, that he possesses within him everything in which we
can clearly recogn ize some perfection tba1 is infinite or unlimited by any
26. We.should never enter into arguments about the infinite. Things i11
im perfection. which we observe 110 limits - such as the extension of the world, the
2. J. God is not corporeal, and does not perceive through the senses as we division of the parts of matter, the mm1ber of the stars, and so on -
do; and he does not will the evil of sin . should instead be regarded as i1tdefinite.
There are many things such that, although we recognize some perfection Thus we will never be invo lved in tiresome arguments about the infi nite.
in them, we also find in them some imperfection or limitation, and For sin ce we are fin ite, it would be absurd for us ro determine anything
Principles of Philosophy Part One 203

concerning the infi nire; for this would be io arrempt to limit it and grasp natural light is to be trusted only to the extent that it is com patible with
15 it. So we shall not bother to reply to those who ask if half an inlinite line divine revelation.
would itse lf be infinite, or whether an infinite number is odd o r even, and
so o n. It seems that nobody has any business to think abo ut such ma tters 29. God is not the cause of 011r errors.
unles~ he regards hi s o wn mind as infinite. For our part, in the case of T he ~rs c attrihuce of God tha t comes under consideration here is thar he
anything in whi ch, from some po int of view, we arc unable to di scover a is supremely truthful and the giver of all light. So it is a complete
lim it, we shall avoid asse rting that it is infinite, and instead regard it as contrndic1ion to suppose that he might deceive us o r be, in the strict and
indefinite. There is, for example, no imaginable extension which is so posirive sense, the cause of the errors io which we know by experience
great that we ca nnot understand the possibility of an even greater one; that we are prone. For although the ability to deceive may perhaps be
and so we shall describe the size of possible things as indefinite. Again, regarded among us men as a sign of intelligence, the will to d ca:ive must
however many pans a body is divided into, each of the parts can still be undoubtedly always come from malice, or from fear and weakness, and
understood to be divisible and so we shall hold that quantity is so cannot belong to God.
in definitely d ivisible. Or agai n, no marrer how great we imagine the
num ber of scars co be, we sti ll think tha t Go el could have created even JO. It fo llows that everything that we clearly perceive is tme; a11d this
more; and so we w ill sup pose the number of stars to be indefinite. And removes the doubts mentioned earlier.
the same will ap ply in o ther cases. It follows from t his chat the light o f nature or faculty of knowled ge which
God gave us can never encompass any object which is not true in so far as
l.7. The dif(ere11ce between the indefinite and the i11finite. it is indeed encompassed by this facu lty, that is, in so far as it is clearly
Our reason for using the term 'indefinite' rather than 'infinite' in these and distinctly perceived. For God would deserve to be called a deceiver if
cases is, in the first place, so as to reserve the term 'infinite' for God alone. the faculty which he gave us was so distorted that it mistook the false for
for in the case of God alone, not only do we fail to recognize any li mits in t he true <even when we were using it properly>. This disposes of the mo~t
any respect, but our understanding posit ively tell s us that there are none. serious doubt which arose from our ignorance abo ut whether our nature
Secondly, in the case of other things, our understand ing does not in the might ooc be such as to make us go wro ng even in matter~ wh ich
same way positively te ll us that they lack limits in some respect; we seemed co us utterly evident. Indeed, tl1is argument eas il y demo lishes all
merely ad.<no wlcdgc in a negative way that any limits which they may the o ther reasons lor doubt which were mentioned ea rlier. M athematical r7
have cannot be discovered by us. t ru ths should no lo nger be suspect, since they are utterly clear to us. And
as for ou r senses, if we notice any1 hing here that is clear and distinct, no
28. It is not the fi11al b111 the efficient causes of crl!IJtcd things that we matter whether we are awake or asleep, rhen pro vided we separate it
must inquire mto. from what is confused and obscure we will easily recog1117,c - whatever
When dealing wirh natural things we will, rhcn, never derive any the thing in question - wh ich a rc the aspects that may be regarded as
explanations from the purposes which God o r nature may have had in true. There is no need for me to expand on this poinr here, since I have
view when creating them <and we shall entirely banish fro m our al ready dealt with it in the Medirario11s on Metaphysics; 1 and a more
philosoph y the search for fi nal causes> . For we should no t be so arrogan t precise explanation of the po int requires k nowledge of what l sball be
as to suppose:: tlial we ca n sha re in God's plans. We sho uld, instead, saying Inter o n.
16 consider him as 1hc efficient cause of all things; and sta rting from t he
divine attributes which by God's will we have some knowledge of, we }L Our errors, if co11sidered i11 relatio11 to God, are merely negations; if
shall see, with rhc aid of our God-given natural light, wh ar conclusions considered i11 relation to ourselves they are privations.
should be d rawn concerning rhose effects which are apparent to our Yet although God is no deceiver, ic of1cn happens that we fall into error.
scnses. 1 At the same time we should remember, as noted earlier, that the In o rder to investigate the origin and cause of our errors and learn to
guard against them, we should realize that they do not depend on our
r ... and we .shall be assured duu wh;;u we hafe onct cle"lrly and distincrl); per.;civeJ 10
belong to the nature ol thc.c thing> has the perfeccion ol bting true' (added in French
version, which also onun the l3SI senrence of this article). r Cf. Med. vi: vol. 11, pp. Hff.
Principles of Philosophy Part One
intellect so much as on our will. Moreover, errors are not things, for us to extend our will beyond what we clearly perceive; and when we
requiring the real concurrence of God for their production. Considered in do this it is no wonder that we ma)' happen to go wrong.
relation co God they are merely negations, 1 and considered in relation ro
ourselves they are privations. 36. Our errors cannot be imputed to God.
But it must not in any way be imagined that, because God did not give us
3 z.. \Ve possess only two modes of thinking: the perception of the an omniscient inrellect, this makes him the author of our errors. For it is
intellect and the operation of the will. of the namre of a created intellect to be fin ite; and it is of the nature of a
All the modes of thinking that we experience withi n ourselves can be finite intellect that its scope should nor extend to everything.
brought under rwo general headings: percep tion, or the operation of the 37. Tl1e supreme perfection ofman is that he acts freely or voluntarily,
intellect, and volitio n, or the operation of rhc will. Sensory perception, and it is this which makes him deserve praise or blame.
imagination a11d pure 1mdersranding are simply various modes of The extremely broad scope of the wi ll is part of its very nature. And it is a
perception; desire, aversion , assertion, denial and doubt are various supreme perfection in man that he acts voluntarily, that is, freely; this
modes of willing. makes him in a special way the author of his actions and deserving of
praise for what he does. We do not praise automatons for accurately
3 3. We fall into error 011ly when we make iudgements about things producing all the movemenrs rbey were designed 10 perform, because the
which we have not sufficiently perceived. production of these movements occurs necessarily. It is the designer x9
Now when we perceive something, so long as we do not make any who is praised for consrcucting such carefully-made devices; for in
assertion or denial about it, we clearly avoid error. Aud we equally avoid constructing chem he acted not our of necessity bur freely. By the same
error when we confine our assertions or denials to what we clearly and principle, when we embrace the truth, o ur doing so voluntarily is much
i8 distinctly perceive should be asserted or den ied. Error arises only when, more to our cred it than would be the case if we could nor do otherwise.
as often happens, we make a judgement about something even though we
do not have an accurate perception of it. 38. The fact that we fall into error is a defect in the way we act, not a
defect in Ottr nature. The fau lts ofsubordi11ates may often be
34. Maki11g a judgement requires not only the i11tellec1 but also /he will. attributed to their masters, but never to Cod.
In order co make a judgement, the intellect is of course req uired since, in The fact that we fall into error is a defect in the way we act or in the use
the case of something which we do nor in any way perceive, the re is no we make of our freedom, bur not a defect i11 our nature. For o ur nature
judgement we can make. But the will is also required so that, once remains the same whether we judge correctly or incorrectly. And
something is perceived in some manner, our assent may then be given. although God could have endowed our intellect with a discernment so
Now a judgement - some kind of judgement at least - can be made acute as to prevent our ever goiog wrong, we have no right co
without the need for a comp lete and exhaustive perceptio n of th e thing in demand this of him . Admittedly, when one of us men has the power to
question; for we can assenr to rnany things which we know only in a very pn!vent some evil, but does not prevent it, we say that he is the cause of
obscure and confused manner. the evil; but we must not si milar])' suppose that because God could have
brought it about that we never went wrong, this makes him the cause of
3 5. The scope of the will is wider than that of the intellect, and this is the our errors. The power wh ich men have over each other was given them
cause of error. so that they might employ it in discouraging others from evil; but the
Moreo,er, the perception of the intellect extends only to the few objects power wh ich God has over all men is both absolute and totally free. So
presented t0 it, and is always extremely limited . The will, 011 the other we should give him the utmost thanks for the goods which he has so
hand, can in a certain sense be called infinite, since we observe without lavishly bestowed upon us, instead of unjustly complaining that he did not
exception that its scope extends to anything that can possibly be an hesrow on us all the gifrs which it was in his power to bestow.
object of any other wi ll - even the immeasurable will of God. So it is easy 39. The freedom of the will is self-evident.
1 '. .. that is, he did 1lOt bestow o n us everylhing which he was able co best<>w, but which That tbere is freedom in o ur will, and that we have power in many cases
equally we c:m sec he was nor obliged to give us' (added in French version). to give o.r w ithhold our assent at will, is so evident that it must be
2.06 l'ri11ciples of Philosophy Part One 207

cou nted among the fi rst and most com mon notions that are innate in us. people who do nor know the right method o f fin ding it often pass
Th is wa~ obvious earli er on when, in our attempt to doubt everything, we judgement on things of wh ich t hey lack perception, and this is why they
2.0 went so far as to make the supposi lio n of some supremely powerfu l fall into error.
aucbor of out being wbo was attempting co deceive us in every possible
way. For in spite of chat supposition, the freedom which we experienced 43. We never go wro11g ivhe111ve assent 011/y to wbat we clearly and
within us was nonetheless so great as to enable us to abstain from distinctly perceive.
believing whatever was not quite certain or fully examined. And what we It is cerrain, however, chat we will never mistake the false for the true
saw co be beyond doubt even during che period of that supposition is as provided we gi,e our assent only to what we clea rly and distinctly
self-evident and as cransparcndy clear as anything can be. perceive. I say that this is cerrain, because God is nor a deceiver, and so
the faculty of perception which he has given us cannot incline 10
4 o. It is also certain that everytbmg was preordained by Cod. falsehood; and the same goes for the faculty of assent, provided its scope
But now chat we have come to know God, we perceive in him a power so is limited to what is dearly perceived. And even if there were no way of
immeasurable chat we regard ir as impious to suppose that we could ever proving rhis, the minds of all of us have been so moulded by natuIC that
do anything which was not already preordained by him. And we can whenever we perceive something dearly, we spontaneously give our
easily get ourselves into great difficulties if we artempt to reconci le chis assent to it and are quite unable to doubt its truth.
divine preordinacion with che freedom of our will, or attempt to grasp
both these things at once. 44. \Vbe111ve give our assent to somethi11g which is 11ot dearly
perceived, this is always a misuse of our judgement, even if by
4 i. How ro reconcile the freedom of our will with divine preordi11atio11 . c/11111ce we stumble 011 the rmtb. The giving of our assent to
But we shall gee out of these difficulties if we remember that o ur mind is something 1111clear happens because we imagine that we clearly
finite, while the power of God is infinite - the po wer by which he nor perceived it 011 some previous occasion .
only knew from eterni ty whateve r is o r can be, but also willed it and It is a lso ccn ai n that when we assent to some piece of reasoning when our
preo rdain ed it. We may main sufficient knowledge of chis power co perception of it is lacking, then either we go wrong, or, if we do stumble
perceive clea rl y and disri nccly drnt God possesses it; bm we can not get a on th e t ruth, it is mere ly by accident , so that we cannot be sure that we
sufficient grasp o( it ro see how it leaves the free actions of men are nor in erro r. O f course it seldom happens rha t we assent to something
undetermined. No netheless, we have sucl1 close awareness of the freedom when we arc awa re of not perce iving it, since the ligh t of nature tel ls
and indifference which is in us, that there is nothing we can grasp more us th ac we sho uld never ma ke a judgement except about things we
evidently o r more perfectly. And it would be absurd, si mply because we know. What docs very often give rise to error is that there are many
do not grasp o ne thing, which we know must by its very nature be things which we t hink we perceived in the past; once these things are
beyond ou r comprehension, to doubt something else of which we have an comm itted to memory, we give o ur assent to them just as we would if
intimate grasp and which we experience with in ourselves. we had fully perceived chem, whereas in reality we never perceived
them at all.
4 :z.. Although we do 11ot wa11t to go wro11g, nevertheless we go wrong by
011row11 will. 45. Wbat is mea111 by a clear perception, and by a distinct perceptio11.
Now that we know that all our errors depend on che will, it may seem Indeed there are very many people who in their entire lives never perceive
21 surprising chat we should ever go wrong, since there is no one who wantS anything wirh suffiacnt accuracy to enable them to make a judgement
to go wrong. But there is a great difference between choosing to go wrong about ir with certainty. A perception which can serve as the basis for a 22
and choosing co give one's assent in matters where, as it happens, error is certain and indubitable 1udgemenr needs ro be not merely clear but also
robe found. And although there is in fact no one who expressly wishes to distinct. I call a perception 'clear' when it is present and accC$5iblc to the
go wrong, there is scarcely anyone who does not often wish to give his attentive mind - just as we say that we see something clearly when it is
assent ro something which, though he does not know it, contains some pw..eru to the eye's gaze and stimulates it with a sufficient degree of
error. lndced, precisely because of their eagerness ro find the truth, strength and accessibility. I call a perception 'distinct ' if, as well as being
108 Principles of Philosophy Part One

dear, it is so sharply separated from all other perceptions that it contains (that is, extension in length, breadth and depth), shape, motion,
within itself only what is clear. position, divisibility of component parts and the like. But we also
experience within o urselves certain othe r th ings which 1nust not be
46. The example ofpain shows tl1at a perception ca11 be clear without referred either to the mind alone or to the body alone. T hese arise, as will
being distinct, but ca111101 be distinct witho11t being clear. be made clear later on, in the appropriate place,' from tbe close an d
For example, when someone feds an intense pain, the perception he has intimate union of our mind wirh rhe bod)' This list includes, first,
of it is indeed very clear, but is nor always distinct. For people commonly appetites like hunger and thirst; secondly, the emotions or passions of
confuse this perception with an obscure judgement they make concerning rhe mind which do not consist of thought alone, such as t he emotions of
the nature of something which they think ex ists in the painful spot and anger, joy, sadness and love; and finally, all the sensations, such as those
wh ich they suppose to resemble the sensation of pain; but in fact it is the of pain, pleasure, light, colours, sounds, smells, tastes, heat, hardness and
sensation alone which they pe rceive clearly. Hence a perception can be the other tactile qua lities.
clear without being distinct, but not disti nct wirhom being clear.
49. It is not possible-or i11deed necessary- to give a similar list of
47. In order lo correct the preco11ceived opinions of our early childhood etemal tmths.
we must comider the simple 11otions and what elemems in each of Everything in the preceding list we regard either as a thing or as a quality
them are clear. or mode of a thing. Bur when we recognize that it is impossible for
In our child hood t he mind was so immersed in the body that although anything to come from nothing, the pro posi tion Nothing comes from
there was much that it perceived clearly, it never perceived anything 11othing is regarded not as a really existing thi ng, or even as a mode of a
distinctly. Bu t in spite of th is rhe mind made judgements about ma ny thing, but as an eternal truth which resides within our mind. Such
things, and rh1s is rhe origin of the many preconceived opinions which tru ths are termed common notions or axioms. The following are :1.4
mosc o f us never subsequently abandon. To enable us to get rid of these examples of this class: It is impossible for the same thing to be mtd not to
preconceived opinions, I shall here briefly list all the simple no1ions be at the same time; What is do11e ca1111ot be undone; He who thinks
which are the basic components of o ur thoughts; and in each case J shall cannot bttt exist while he thi11ks; and countless others. It would not be
distinguish rhc clear elements from those whi ch are obscure or liable to easy to draw up a list of all of them; bur nonetheless we cannot fail to
lead us into error. know them when the occasion for thinking about them arises, provided
that we arc not blinded by preconceived opinions.
48. All the objects ofour perceptio11 may be regarded either as thi11gs or
affections of things, or as etemal tmths. The former are listed here. 50. Etemal tmths are clearly perceived; b11t, because of preco11ceived
All the objects of our perception we regard either as th ings, or affections opi11io11s, 1101 all of them are clearly perceived by everyone.
of things, or else as eternal truths which have no existence outside our In the case of these common notions, there is no do ubt that they are
thought. 1 The most general items which we regard as things arc capa ble of being clearly and distinctly perceived; for otherwise rhey
13 substa11ce, duratio11, order, number :111d any other items of this kind would not properly be called common notions. But some of them do not
which extend to all classes of things. But I recognize only two ultima1e really have an equa l claim to be call ed 'common' among all people, since
classes of things: first, intellectual or thinking d1ings, i.e. those which they are nor equally well perceived by everyone. This is not, I think,
pertain to mind or chinking substance; and secondl)', material things, because one man's facul ry of knowledge extends more widely than
i.e. those which pertain to extended substance or body. Perception, another's, but because the common notions are in conflict with
volition and all the modes both of perceivi ng and of willing are referred the preconceived opinions of some people who, as a r~ult, cannot
to thinking substance; while to extended substance belong size easily grasp them. But the selfsame notions are perceived witb the
utmost clarity by other peop le who arc free from such preconceived
t An 'affection' o( o thing is one of irs qunl irj~ or modcsi sec :arr. 56. below. The French opinions.
version omits chis technical term :and simply distinguishes between, on the one hand.
'things which have some existcn~, :and, on tht othec hand, 'lruths which arc: nothin.g
outside our thought".
210 Principles of Philosophy Part One :>. II

51. WI hat is meant lry 'substance" -a term which does not apply unintelligible except as morion in an extended space; while imagination,
tmivocally to God and his creati.res. sensation and will arc intelligible on ly in a thinking th ing. By contrast, it
Jn the case of those items which we regard as th ings or modes of things, it is possible to und erstand extension w ithout shape or movement, and
is wo rthwhile examining e~ch of them separately. By substance we can thought without imaginacion or sensation, and so on; and this is quite
understand nothing other th an a thing which exists in such a way as to clear to anyone who gives the mauer his attention.
depend on no other thing for its existence. And there is o nly one
substance which can be understood to depend on no other thing whatso S4. How we ca11 ha~e clear and distinct notions of thinking substance
ever, namely God. In the case of all other substances, we perceive that and of corporeal substance, a11d also of God.
they can exist only with the help of God's concu rrence. Hence the term Th us we can easily have rwo clear and distinct notions or ideas, one of
'substance' does nor apply uni vocally, as they say in 1he Schools, to God c~eated thinking substance, and the other of corporeal substance, pro
and to orber t hings; that is, there is no distinctly intelligible meani ng of v1dcd we arc careful to dis tinguish all th e attributes of tho ught from t he
the term which is common ro God and his crearures. < In the case of auributes of ex tension. We can also have a clear and distinct idea of :i.6
created things, some are of such a nature that they cannot exist wi thout uncreated and independent thinking substance, that is of God. Here we
other things, while some need only the ordinary concurrence of God in must simply avoid supposing thar rhc idea adequately represents every-
order to exist. We make this dis1inction by calling the latter 'substances' thing which is to be found in God; and we must not invent any additional
and the former 'qualities' or 'amibu1es' of those substances.> features, but concentrate only on whm is really contained in the idea and
on what we clearly perceive to belong to 1he natu re of a supremely
perfect"being. And certainly no one can deny that we possess such an
p.. The term 'substance' applies 1mi11ocally to mind and to body. How a
idea of God, unless he reckons that there is absolutely no knowledge of
substance itself is k11011111. God to be found in the minds of men.
15 But as for corporeal substance and mind (or created thinking sub-
scance), these can be understood to fall under thi; common concept:
things that need only the concurrence of God in order to exist. However,
S5. How we cat1 also have a distinct 1111dersta11ding ofd11ration, order
and number.
we cannot ini1ially become aware of a substance merely through its being
We shall also ha ve a very distinct understanding of duraticm, order and
an existing thing, since th is alone does not of itself have any effect on us.
\Y./e ca n, however, easily come to know a su bstance by one of i1s
11111nber, provided we do not mistakenly Lack on to them any conccp1 of
attributes, in virtue of the common notion tha t nothingness possesses no subscance. In stead, we should regard the duration of a rhing simply as a
attributes, that is to say, no properties or qualitic;. Thus, if \ve perceive mode under which we conceive the rhing in so far as it continues to exist.
And similarly we should not regard order or number as anything separate
1he presence of some anriburc, we can infer that 1hcre muse also be
from 1he things which are ordered nnd numbered, bur should think of
present an cxisiing thing or sub;tance 10 which it may be amibuted.
them simply as modes under which we consider the things in question.

53. To each substance there belongs one principal attribute; in the case 56. What modes, qualities and attributes are.
of mind, this is thought, and in the case of body it is extension. 13y 111ode, as used above, we undemand exactly the same as what is
A subsrance may indeed be known through any attribute at all; bur each elsewhere meant by an attribute or qr;ality. But we employ the term mode
substance has one principal property which conscimtes its nature and when we are thinking of a subscance a~ being affected or modified; when
essence, and to which all ics other properties are referred. Thus exrension ihe modification enables the substance to be designaced as a substance of
in length, bread th and depth constitutes the nature of corporeal sub- such and such a kind, we use the term q11ality; and finally, when we are
stance; and thought consr itures the nature of th in king substance. Every- simply thinking in a more general way of what is in a subscance, we use
thing else which can be attributed to body presupposes extension, and is the term attribute. Hence we do not, strictly speaking, say that there are
merely a mode of an extended thing; and similarly, whatever we find in modes or qualities in God, but simply attributes, since in the case of God,
the mind as simply one of the various modes of thinking. For example, .lll)'. variation is uni111elligible. _And even in the case of created things, that
shape is unintelligible except in an extended thing; and motion is w l11d1 always rcmmn~ unmodified - for example existence or duration in
2.H Principles of Philosoph)' Part 011e 2.l 3

a thing which exists and e ndures - should be called not a quality or a universal idea of a right-angled triangle; since this idea i~ related to the
mode bm an anribuie. preceding idea as a special case, it is termed a species. And the
reccangularity is the universal differe11tia which distinguishes all right
57. Some attributes are in things a11d others in thought. What d11ratio11 angled triangles from other triangles. And the fact that the square on the
and time are. hypo te nuse is equal to the sum of the squares on the o ther two sides is a
2.7 Now some attribures or modes are in rhe very things of wh ic h they are property belonging to all and only .-igbt-angled triangles. Fina lly, if we
said to be attributes or modes, while others are o nly in our thought. sup1>osc that some right-angled triangles are in morion whi le others a re nor,
For example, when time is distinguished from duration taken in rhc this will be a universal accident of such triangles. Hence five universals
general sense and called the measure of moveme nt, u is simply a mode of are commonly listed: gem1s, species, di(fere11tia, property and accide11t.
thought. For the duration which we understand to be involved in
movement is ccrrninly no different from the duration involved in things 60. Three sorts of disti11aio11: firstly, what is meant by a 'real
which do not move. This is dear from the fact that if there are two bodies disti11ct1011 '.
moving for an hour, one slowly and the ocher quickly, we do not reckon Now number, in things themselves, :iri~es from the di stinction between
the amount of time to be greater in the latter case than the former, even them. Bur disti11ctio11 can be taken in th ree ways : as a real distinction, a
though the a mount of movement may be muc h greater. But in order to modal disri nction, or a co11cept11al distinc tion. Strictly speaking, a real
measure the duration of all things, we compare their duration with the distinction exists only between two or more substances; and we can
duration of the greatest and most regular motions which give rise to years perceive that two substances a.-c rea ll y distinct simply from the fact that
and days, and we call this duration 'time'. Yet nothing is thereby added we can clearly and distinctl y understand one apart from rhe other. For
to duration, taken in its general sense, except for a mode of thought. when we come to know God, we arc ccnain that he can bring about
anything of whicb we have a distinct understanding. For example, even
58. Number a11d all 1111i11ersals are simply modes of thinking. though we may not yet know for certain that any extended or corporeal
Jn the same way, number, when it is considered simply in the abstract or substance exists in reality, the mere fact char we have an idea of such a
in general, and not in any created things, is merely a mode of thinking; substance enables us to be certain that it is capable of existing. And we
a nd the same applies to all the o th er 1111i11ersals, as we call th em. can also be certain that, if it exists, each and every pare of ic, as delimited
by us in o ur thought, is really distinct from the other parts of the sa me
59. How 1111i11ersa/s arise. T/7e five co1111110111111i11ersals: ge11us, species, substance. Simila rly, from the mere fact char each of us understands 29
differentia, property, accident. himself to be a thinking thing and is capab le, in thought , of excluding
These universals arise solely from the fact char we make use of one and from himself every other substance, whether thinking or extended, it is
the same idea for thinking of all individual ncms which resemble each cen :un that each of us, regarded 111 this war, is really d istinct from every
other: we apply one and the same term to all the things which are other thinking substance and from C\'Cry corporeal substance. And even
represented by rhc idea in question, and this is the universal term. When 1f we suppose that God has joined some corporeal substance to such a
we see two sto nes, for example, and direct our attention not to their thinking substance so closely that they ca nnot be more closely conjoined,
nature but merely to th e fact that there are two of them, we form the idea chm compounding them into a un ity, they nonetheless remain really
of the number which we ca ll 'two'; a nd when we later see two birds o r two disrincr. for no matter how closely God may have u nircd them, t he
trees, and consider not their Mturc but merely the fact that there are two power which he previously had of separating them, or keeping one in
of them, we go back to the same idea as before. This, then, is th e universal being withou t the ocher, is something he could not lay aside; and things
idea; and we always designate the number in question by the same which God has rhe power to separate, or to keep in being separately, are
t8 universal term 'two'. In the same way, when we see a figure made up of really ditinct.
three lines, we form an idea of it which we call the idea of a triangle; and
we later make use of it as a universal idea, so as to represent to our mind 61. \'(f/J<1t 1s me<111t by a 'modal disti11ctt011'.
all the other figures made up of three lines. Moreover, when we notice A 1110dttl disti11ctio11 can be taken in two ways: firstly, as a d istinction
that some triangles have one right angle, and others do not, we form the bc Lwcc11 .1 mode, properly so called, ,ind the substance of which it is a
Pri11ciples of Philosophy Part 011e 2.15

mode; and secondly, as a d istinction between two modes of the same themselves when these are in one and the same object. 1 I am aware that
substan ce. The first kind of modal distinction can be recognized from the elsewhere I did lump this type of distinction with rhe modal disrinction,
fact that we can clearly perceive a substance apart from the mode wh ich namely at the end of my Replies to the First Ser of Objections to the
we say differs from it, whereas we cannot, co nversely, understand the Meditatio11s on First Philosop'1y2; b ut that was not a suitable place for
mode apart from the s ubstance. T hus there is a modal distinction making a cal'eful dis tinction be1ween the two rypes; it was e nough for my
between shape o r mo tion and the corporeal s ubstance in wh ich they purposes to d istinguish both from the real disrincrion.
inhere; and simil arly, then.: is a modal distinction between affirmation
o r recollection and the mind. The second kind of modal disrincrion is 63. Horu 1houg/,t and extensio11111ay be disti11ctly recog111ted as
recognized from rhe fact that we are able to arrive at knowledge of one c-011sti111ti11g tbe nature of mind and of body.
mode apart from ano1her, and vice versa, whereas we cannot know either Thought and extension can be regarded as consriruring the natures of
mode apart from the substance in which they both inhere. For example, if intelligent substance and corporeal sub~tance; they must then be
a stone is in mo1ion and is square-shaped, I can understand the square considered as nothing else but thinking substance itself and extended 3x
sh a pe without the motion and, conversely, rhe motion without the sq uare substance Itself - that is, as mind :ind body. In this way we will have a
s hape; but I can understan d neither the motion nor t he shape apart from very clear a nd distinct understa nding of them. Indeed, it is m uch easier
30 the substance of the srone. A differeot case, howevel', is the distinction by for us to h ave an unders tan ding of extended s ubsta nce o r t hinki ng
which the mode of one substance is di stinct from a nother substance or substance than it is for us to understand s ubstance o n its own, leavi ng
from the mode of ano1hcr substance. An example of this is the way in out t he fact rhat it t hinks o r is cxrcndcd. For we have some difficulty in
which the motion of one body is distinct from another body, or from che abstracting the notion of substance from the notions of thought a nd
mind; or the way in which motion differs from doubt. 1 It seems more excension, since the distinction berwcen these notions and the 1101ion of
appropriate to call this kind of d istinction a real d istinction, rather th an substance itself is merely a conceptual distinction. A concept is nor
a modal distinction, since the modes in question cannot be clearly any more distinct beca use we include less in it; its disun ctncss simply
understood apart frorn the really d istinct substances of which they are depends o n our carefu lly distingui shing w h at we do include in it from
modes. everything else.

62. What is mea11r by a 'conce/Jtual distinction'. 64. How /bought and extensio1111111y also be distinctly recog11ited as
Finally, a co11cept11al d1sti11ctio11 is a distinction between a s ubstance and modes of a substance.
some attrib ute of that substance without which the substance is Thought and extension may also be taken as modes of a subsrance, in so
unintelligible; alternatively, it is a distinction bet\\ CCn two such attributes far as one and the same mind is capable of having many different
of a single substance. Such a distinction is recognized by our inability to thoughts; and one and th e same body, with irs quantity unchanged, may
form a clear and distinct idea of the substance if we exclude from ir the be extendlod in many different ways (for example, at one moment it may
attrib ute in question, or, alternatively, by our ina bility to perceive be greater in length and smaller in breadth or depth, and a little later, by
clearly the idea of one of the cwo attributes if we separate it from rhe contrast, it may be greater in breadth and smaller in lcngrh). J The
other. For example, si nce a substance ca nnot cease to endure witho ut d istinctio n be tween thoughr o r exten sion and the substance will then be
a lso ceasing to be, the d istinction between the s ubstance a nd its duration a modal o ne; a nd om undcrsrnnding of them will be ce1pable o f being
is merely a conceptual o ne. And in the case o f all the mode$ of thoughr2 just as clear and d istincr as our understanding of th e substa nce itself,
which we consider as be[ng in objects, there is merely a conceptual p rovided they arc regard ed nor as substances (t hat is, things which are
distinction between the modes and the object which they are chought of separare from other things) bur simply as modes of things. By regarding
as applying to; and the same is true of the distinction bccween the modes For rh1s ~nit-nee the French ~rsion subsmu1es: 'And in g_.ener:al all rhc anrd>urt"S which
GlU~ U\ to h<l''t' d1ffttnr thoughcs conammg a s1ngk rhinfb s12ch as the t.xttn~on of a
liod) ,,nJ '"'property of bcmg dividtd into sevcul puts, do not differ from the body ...
1 In pla.ct of dubitat1one ("doubt') AT read dur(11'0He ('durauon')i the former reldrng is
or from <'.h:h other. c-x:pr in so far ai; '-''C sometimes think confuS<dl of or:c without
undoubtedly corrtct, "nd is followed in the French version. thrnklllj.\ oi rht other.' l. Ste vol. II, pp. ssr.
1. See above, art. S7 1md 58. Cf. the cx.11npl<' or 1hc w.1x in Mtd. 11: vol. 11 . p. l.o.
Principles of Philosophy Part One 217

them as being in rbe substances of which they are modes, we d istinguish suppose that these exist ourside us, we generally regard them not as being
th em from the substances in question and see them for what rhey really in the mind alone, o r in o ur perception, but as being in the hand o r foot
are. lf, on the other hand, we attempted to consider them apa rt from the or in some o ther part of o ur body. Bur the fact that we feel a pain as it 33
substances in which they inhere, we would be regarding them as things were in o ur foot does nor make ic certai n that rhe pain exists o utside our
which subsisted in their own r ight, and would thus be confusing t he ideas mind, in the foot, any more than rhe fact that we see light as ir were in l'hc
of a mode and a substance. sun, ma kes it certain the lig ht exists outside us, in rbe sun. Both these
beliefs arc preconce ived opini ons of our early d1ildhood, as will become
32 65 . How the mod~s of thought and extension are to be known . clear below.
There are various modes of rhought such as understanding, imagination, 68. How to distinguish what we clearly know i11 such matters from what
memory, vol ition, and so o n; and there arc va rio us modes of exrension, ca11 lead us astray.
or modes which belong ro extension, such as all shapes, the posirions of In order to disringuish wbat is clear in this connection from what is
parts and rhe morions of the parts . And, just as before, we shall arrive at obscure, we must be very careful to note that pain and colou r and so 0 11
rhe best pe rception of all these irems if we regard them simply as modes a re clearl y and distinctly perceived when they are regarded merely as
of the things in which they arc located. As far as morion is concerned, it se nsations o r though ts. Bm when they are judged ro be real cltings
will be best if we think simpl)' of local motion, without inquil'ing into the existing outside our mind, there is no way of understandi ng whar sort of
force w hich produces it (though l shall aicempr to explain this later in the t hings they are. I{ someone says he sees colour in a body or feels pain in a
approp riate place') . limb, rhis amou nts ro saying rbat be sees or feels something the re of
which he is who ll y ignorant, or, in o ther words, that he does not know
66 . How sensations, emotions and appetites may he clearly known, what he is seeing o r feeling. Adm ittedly, if he fails to pay sufficient
desp ite tlie fact that 1ue are fi-equcntly wro11g in oui- j11dgements attention, he may easily co nvince himself that he has some knowledge of
concerning them. what he sees or feels, beca use he may suppose that it is something similar
There remains sensati ons, emo tio ns and appetires.2 T hese may be clearl y to the sensation of colo ur o r pa in which he experiences wirhin himseli.
perceived provided we rake great ca re in o ur judgement~ concerning But if he examines the nature of what is represemed by the sensatio n of
them to include no more than wba1 is strictly contained in o ul' perception colour o r pai n - what is represen ted as existing in t he co loured body or
- no mo re tha n thar of which we have inner awareness. Bur this is a very the painful pa rt - he wi ll realize chat he is who lly ignoram of it .
d ifficult ru le to observe, at least with regard to sensat ions. For all of us
have, from o ur earl y childhood, judged that all the objects of our 69. We know size, shape and so forth in quite a different 1vay from the
sense-perception are things existing omside our minds and closely way in rvhic/J we k nozv co/011rs, pains a11d the like.
resembli ng o u1 sensa tio ns, i..e. the perceptions that we had of them. Th us, T his will be especially clear if we conside r the wide gap betwee n ou r
o n seeing a colour, for example, we supposed we were seeing a thing knowledge of those featu res of bodies which we clearly perceive, as
located Olttside us which closel y resembled t he idea of colour that we stated earlier, 1 and o ur know ledge of those features which must be
ex perienced within us at the time. And t his was something that, because referred to the senses, as I have just pointed ou t. To the former class
of o ur habit of making such judgcmencs, we thought we saw clearl y and belong the size of the bo dies we see, t heir sha pe, morio n, position,
d istinctly - so much so that we rook it for something certain and durat ion, number and so o n (by ' motion' l mean local motion: philo-
ind11bitable. sophers have imagined that there are o ther kinds of mo rion distinct from
loca l motion, thereby only making the nature o f morion less intelligible
67. We frequently make m istakes, even i11 our iudgements concerning to thcmsclves). 2 To the latter class belong the colour in a [J()dy, as well as 34
pain. 1 Se< abo,1e, arr. 48 .
2 l~y 'loc.11 motion' is meant~ roughJy, movement from pface to place (see fortht.r Parr i., an.
The same thing happens with rega rd to everything else of which we have
24 n.n.d .t5, below pp. :z.33f). Scholastic philosophers, followii"lg ;\rismtlc\ so1netimes
sensory awareness, even to pleasure and pain. For, although we do not '-l:.hs1ficd .my Jlt<rntion (e.g. a qu:mtirativc or a qu:) litative change) a.s a type of morion;
v:HlOm other disl inC1iOll), e.g. th:u berween narural' and 'violrnt' motion, were also
1 Jn Part 2; see espcdally art. 43 and 4-1 t:<>ir111Hm1>l.lcc. Sec .1lso Tin \Vorld, p. 94 :l!,<>ve.
2 These :\re the items remaining from the objC(tS of pcn:eptjon lisred abO\'C :i.rr. 48.
'.2.I8 Principles of Philosophy Part One

pain, smell, tascc and so on. It is true that when we see a body we are just the different areas where , and ways in which, the body was bei ng
as certain of its existen ce in virtue of its having a visible colour as we are stimulated, namely what we call the sensations of castes, smells, sou nds,
in vircue of its having a visible shape; but our knowledge of what it is for heat, cold, lighc, colours and so o n - sensations which do not represent
the body co have a shape is much clearer chan ou r knowledge of what it is anything located o utside our thought. 1 At the same cime t he mind
for it to be coloured. perceived sizes, shapes, motions and so on, which were presented to it
J\Ot as sensations but as things, or modes of things, existing (o r at least
70. There are two ways of making judgements concerning the things capa ble of existing) o utside thought, althoug h it was not yet aware of the
that can be perceived by the senses: the first enables us to avoid d ifference between things and sensations. The next stage arose when the
error, w/1ile the second allows us to fall into error. mechanism of the body , which is so constructed by nature that it has t he
Jt is dear, then, that when we say that we perceive co lours in objects, this abi lity to move in various ways by its own power, twisced around
is really jusr the same as saying that we perceive something in che o bjects aimlessly in all directions in its random attempts to pursue the beneficial
whose nature we d o not know, hut which produces in us a certa in ver)' and avoid the harm ful; at this point the mind th ac wa s attached to the
clear and vivid sensa tion which we ca ll the scnsacion of colour. But the body bega n to notice that the o bjects of this pursuit or avoidance had an
way in whicb we make our judgement can vary very widely. As lo ng as exisrence o utside itself. And it attributed to them not only sizes, shapes,
we merely judge that there is in the objects (that is, in tbc th ings, mocions and the like, which it perceived as things or modes of things, 36
whatever tbey may turn o ut to be, which are the sou rce of o ur sensatio11s) but also tastes, smells and so o n, the sensations of which were, it realized,
something whose nature we do not know, then we avoid erro r; indeed, produced by the objects in question. Moreover, since the mind judged
we arc actually guarding against error, since t he recognition that we arc everything in terms of its utili ry ro the body in which it was immersed, it
ignoram of something makes us less liable co make any rash judgement assessed the amount of reality in each object by the extent ro which it was
about it. But it is quite d ifferent when we suppose that we perce ive affected by it. As a resu lt, it supposed that cherc was more substance or
colours in objects . Of course, we do not rea lly know what it is chat we are corporea lity in rocks and metals than in water or air, since it felt more
calling a colour; and we cannot find any intel ligible resemblance between hardness and heaviness in them. Indeed, it regarded the air as a mere
the colo ur which we suppose to be in o bjects and that which we nothing, so long as it felt no wind or cold or heat in it. And because the
experience in our sensation. But this is someth ing we do not take account light coming from the stars appeared no brighter than that produced by
of; and, what is more, there are many other features, such as size, shape the meagre glow of an o il la mp, it did not imagine any scar as being any
and number which we clearly perceive to be actually or ac least possibl y bigger than this. And because it did not observe 1ha1 the earth tu rns on its
present in o bj ects in a way exactly corresponding 10 our sensory axis or that ics surface is curved to form a globe, ir was rather inclined to
perception or understanding. And so we easily fal l into the erro r of suppose that the earth was im mobile and its surface f1at. Right from
35 judging that what is call ed colour in objeccs is something exacdy like the infancy our mind was swamped witb a thousand such preconceived
colour of which we have sensory awa reness; and we make th e mistake of opinions; and in later childhood, forgetting that they were adopted
thinking that we dearly perceive what we do not perceive at all. without sufficient examination, it regarded them as known by the senses
or implanted by nature , and accepted tbem as utterly true and evident.
7 r . The chief ca"se of error arises from the p reconceived opi11iom of
chiidhood. 7 2. The second ca11sc of error is that roe ca1tnot forget our preconceived
It is here that the first and main cause of all our errors may be recogn ized. opinions.
Jn our ea rly childhood the mind was so closely tied ro the body that it had In later years the mind is no longer a tocal slave co the body, and does not
no leisure for any thoughts except those by means of which it had senso ry refer everycli ing to it. Indeed, it inquires into the cruth of things
awareness of what was happening to the body. It d id not refer these considered in themselves, and discovers very man)' of its previous
thoughts to anything ou tside itself, but merely felt pa in when something judgctllcnts to be folse. But despite this, it is not easy for the mind to erase
harmful was happening to the body and felt pleasure when something 1 '. . . hut wllich vary according to cht.> different movcmen1s which pass from aU pans of our
beneficial occurred. And when nothing very beneficial or harmful was bml)' tO the pntr or rhe b~a i n 10 \!Jhich our mind is closely joined :md united' (added in
happening to the body, the mind had various sensations corresponding to frt:nd'l version).
110 l'ri11ciples of Philosophy Part 011e ?.2.{

thc1>c false judgemems from its memory; and as long as they stick there, from others who did understand them corm:tlr. This is not the place 10
they can cause a variety of errors. For example, in our early childhood we give a precise account of all these matters, since the nature of the human
37 imagined the stars as being very small; and although astronomical body has not yet been dealt with - indeed the existence of any body has
arguments now clearly show us 1ha1 they arc ve ry large indeed, our nor yet been proved. Noneth eless, what has been said appears to be
preconceived o pinion is still strong enough to make it very hard for us to sufficiently intelligi ble ro help us distinguish rhose of our concepts wh ich
imagine them differently from the way we did before. are clear and distinct from those wh ich are obscure and confused.

75. Summary of the rules to be observed in order to philosophhe


7:3 The third c:a11se of error is that we become tired if111e have to attend correctly.
to thi11gs 111hic/1are1101 prese11t to the senses; as a reS11lt, 011r In order ro philosophize seriously and search our the tru th about all the
judgements 011 these thi11gs are h.7bitually basetl 1101011 present things that arc capable of being known, we must first of all lay aside all
perceptio11 but 011 preco11ceived opi11io11. our preconceived opinions, or at least we must rake the greatest care nor
What is more, our mind is unable co keep its arrcncion on things without to put ou r trust in any of the opinions accepted by us in the past until we
>Orne degree of difficulty and fatigue; and ii is hardest of all for it to have first >Crutinized them afresh and confirmed their truth. Next, we
attend to what is not present to rhe senses or even co the imagination. must give our aue nrion in an orderly way ro the notions thm we have
This may be due m the very nature that the mind lrn i. as a result of being within us, and we must judge co be trne :tll and only those whose truth we
joined to the body; or ir may be because ir was exclusively occupied wilh clea rl y and discinctly recognize when we arrcnd ro rhem in this way.
the objects of sense and imagination in 1rs earlicsr years, and has thus When we do this we shall realize, first of all, that we exist in so far as our
acquired more practice and a greater aptirudc for thinking about them nature consists in thinking; and we shall simultaneously realite both that
than it has for thinkmg about other things. The result of this is that many th ere i~ a God, and that we depend on him, and also that a consideration
people's understanding of substance is srill limited to that which is of his attributes enables us to investigate the truth of other things, since
imaginable and corporeal, or even to that which is capable of being he is their cause. finally, we will sec that besides the notions of God and
perceived by the senses. Such people do nor know cho t tbe objects of rhe of our mind, we have wi thin us knowledge of many propositions wh ich
imagination are res tricted to those which have extension, motion and arc ctcmnlly crne, such as 'Nothing comes from nothing'. \'ilc sha ll also
shape, whereas there arc many other things that are objects of the find thm we have knowledge both of a corporeal or extended 11arure
understanding. Also, they suppose char nothing ca n subsist unless it is a which is divisible, moveable, and so on, and also of certain sensatio ns
body, and that no body can subsist unless it can be perceived by the which affect us, 1>uch as the sensations of pain, colours, ca<tcs and so on
senses. Now since, as will be dear!}' shown below, there is nothing whose (though we do not yet know the cau~c of our being affected in this way).
true nature we pcrcei'e by the senses alone, it rurns out that most people When we contrast all this knowledge with the confused thoughts we had
ha\e nothing but confused perceptions throughout their entire lives. before, we" ill acquire the habit of forming clear and distinct concepts of
all rhe things that can be known. These few instructions seem ro me 10 39
74. The fourth cause of error is that we attach 011r concepts to words contain the most important principles of human knowledge.
which do not precisely correspond to real rhi11gs.
l'inally, because of the use of language, we tic all our concepts to the 76. Divine a11tbo,.ity must be p11t before our 0111n pe,.ceptio11; bur, that
words used ro express them; and when we score the concepts in our aside, the philosopher sho11ld give his assent 011/y ro what he has
memory we always simultaneously srore the corresponding words. Larcr /Jerceived.
on we find the words easier to recal l than che things; and because of chi~ Bur above :ill else we must impress on our memory the overriding rule
it is very seldom that our concept of a thing is so distinct that we can that whatever God has revealed to us must be accepted as more certain
>Cparatc it totally from our concepc of rhe words involved. The thoughts than :1nything else. And although the light of reason may, with the
of almost all people are more concerned with words tban wich things; uunmt d.1rity and evidence, appear ro suggest someth ing different, we
and as a result people very often give their assent 10 words they do not mu't 'till p111 our entire faith in divine nuthority rather than in our own
38 understand, chinking they once understood them, or that they got them 111dgcnwnt. lh11 on matters where we nrc not instructed by divine faith, it
Principles of Philosophy

is quite unworchy of a ph ilosopher ro accept anything as true if he has


never established its rruth by thorough scrurin y; and he sho uld never rely
on the senses, that is, on the ill-co nsidered judgements of his ch ildhood,
in preference to hi s macure powers of reason.
PART TWO

The Principles of Material T hings

T. The argu111e11ts that lead to the certain knowledge of the existence of


material things.

Everyone is q uite convinced of the existence of material thi ngs. But


ea rlier on we cast doub t 0 11 this belief and counted it as one of the
preconceived op inions of our childhood .' So it is necessa ry for us to
investigate next the arguments by which the existence of material things
may be k11own with certa inty. Now, all our sensations undoubtedly come
to us from something that is distinct from our mind. For it is not in our
power to make o urselves have one sensation rather than another; this is
obviously dependent on rhe thing rhat is acting o n our senses. Admittedly
one can raise the q uestion of wherhe r this thing is God o r someth ing
different from God . But we have sensory awareness of, or rather as a
result of sensory stimulation we have a clear a nd distioct perception of,
some kind of matter, which is extended in length, breadth and depth, and
bas vario us differently shaped and variously moving parts which give rise
to o ur va rious sensations of colou rs, smells, pain and so on . And if God
were hi mself immediately producing in our mind t he idea of such
extended matter, o r even if he were causing the idea to be prod uced by 4 1
something which lacked extension, shape and motion, there would be no
way of avoiding the conclusion that he should be regarded as a deceiver.
For we have a clear uuderstanding of this matter as something that is
q uite different from God and from o urselves or o ur mind; and we appear
to see clearly that the idea of it comes to us fro m things located outside
o urselves, which it wholly J'CSembles. And we have already noted that it is
quite inconsistent with the nature of God that he should be a deceiver.2
T he unavoidable conclusion, then, is that rhcrc exists something ex-
tended in length, breadth and depth and possessing all the properties
which we clearly perceive to belong to an extended thing. And it is this
extended th ing that we call 'body' or 'ma tter'.

1 See Pnrt 1, art. 1 i. Above, Part l, art. z.9.


Pri11ciples of Philosophy Part Two
i. The basis for our knowledge that the h11111a11 body is closely conjoined 5. This truth about tbe 11at11re of body is obscured by preconceived
11Jith the mind. opinions concerning rarefactio11 and empty space.
By the same coken, the ''Ondus ion tha1 there is a particular body that is But thc l'e arc still rwo po>sible reasons for doubting th at the true na1111c
more closely conjoined with our mind th an any other body follows from of body consisrs solely in extension. The first is the widespread hclicf 1ha1
our clear awareness that pain and otht'r sensations come to us quite many bodies can be rarefied and condensed in such a way rha1 when
unexpectedly. The mind is aware t ha1 these sensaiions do nor come from rarefied they possess more extension than when condensed. In deed, 1hc
itself a lo ne, and that they ca nnot belong to it simply in virtue of its being subtlety of some people goes so fo r rhat they d istinguish the substance of
a 1hi11 king rhi11g; ins1cad, they can hclo ng to it on ly in vinue of irs being a body from its quantity, a nd even its quamity from ir1 extension. 1 The
joined 10 somerhing orher than itself which is extended and moveable - second reason is tha1 if we understand rhere to be nothing in a given place 41
namely what we call the human body. But chis is 1101 tlu: place for a but ex ten~on in len g1h, breadch and depth, we generally say not that
derailed explanacio n of i1s narure. chere is a body there, bu t simply that there is a space, or even an empty
space; and almost everyone is convinced that this amoun1s to nothing a t
3. Sensor)' perception does 1101show11s what really exists in thi11gs, lmt all.
merely sbows us what is /Jeneficial or harmful to 111a11 's composite
11at11re. 6. How rarefaction ocrnrs.
le will be enough, for the present, to nore that sensory perceptions are But wi1h regard to rarefaction and condensation, anyone who arrends to
related exclusively co thi~ combinauon of the human body and mind. his own though cs, and is willing to admit only what he clearly perceives,
They normally tel l u s of the benefit or harm that external bodies may do will not suppose tbat anything happens in these processe> beyond a
to thi s combination , and do nor, except occasiona lly a nd accidenta lly, change of sh ape. Ra refied bodies , that is to say, a rc 1hose which have
42. show us what external bo dies are like in 1hemselvc~ . If we bear th is in many gaps between 1heir pans - gaps which a re occupied by other
mind we will easily lay aside the preconcciv~d opinions acqui red from rhe bodies; and they become denser simpl) in virtue of 1he parts coming
senses, and in this connection make use of the intellect alone, care fully togerhcr a nd reducing or complete!)' clo~ing rhe gaps. In this lase
attending to the ideas impla nted in i1 by nature. eventuality a body becomes so dense that it would be a contradiccion 10
suppose that it could be mad e any dc11ser. Now in 1his condirion, the
4. '/1Je nature of body consists not in 111eight, hardness, colo11r, or the extension o f a body is no less 1han when i1 occupies mOl'C space in virtue
like, but simply in extension. of the mutual separation of i1s parts; for whatever ex1ension is comprised
11 we do th is, we shall perceive that the nature of marcer, or body in the pores or gaps lcfi between che parts must be anribuced not to the
considered in general, consists not in 1cs being something which is hard or body icself bur to the various other bod ies which fill the gaps. In just the
heavy or coloured , or which affects 1he senses in any way, b uc simply in same way, when we sec a sponge filled with water o r some o ther liquid,
its being someth ing w hich is extended in le ngth, b rcad1h and depth. For we do not suppose that in terms of i1s own individual parts it has a
as regards hardness, o u r sensation cells us no more th an that dle parts of greater extension th a n when it is squeezed dry; we simp ly s uppose that its
a hard body resist the morion of our hands when 1hey come into contact pores arc open wider, so that it spreads over a greater space.
with th em. If, whenever our hands mo,ed in a given d irection, all the
bodies in tha1 a rea were co move away at the sam e speed as that of our 7. Tbis is tbe only i11telligible 111ay of explaining rarefaction.
approaching hands, we should never have any sensa tion of h ardness. I really d o not sec what has prompted others to say 1hat rarefaction
And since it is quire unintelligible to s uppose that, if bodies did move occurs through an increase of quanti1y, in preferen'c 10 expla ining it by
away in this fashion, they would thereby lose their bodily narure, it m ea ns of th is example ol 1he spongc. 1 It is true that when :ti r or water is
follows 1hat th is nature cannot consist in hardnc.~s. By rhe same rarefied, we d o not see any pores being made larger, or any new body 4 4
reasoning it can be shown tha t weigh1, colour, and all other such I Cf. n,.. lt'orld, abo>c p. 91.
qualities that are perceived by tl1e senses as being in corporeal ma tter, can i ::i...-hol,1..,ut: philosophers e:icpl:untd rardacfion tn tums of a given <IRW>unt of matter
be removed from it, while the matter itself re mains intact; it thu s follo ws ()u.:up)m~ ,1 la rger <fU;.mtit)' ur volume of )pJc.t: for Desarrc\, how~ver, chis as
un1111cll1 ~1hlc, ~i n-.."t: 1her<. j., no rc.11<lisrinction hctwce11the nouon ~ of 'quonticy, '!'natter'
that its nature does noi d epend on any of 1hese qualities. ;)OJ . ., , , :'KC'.\(.'~ below. ;HI. ~ - 1..
Pri11ciples of Philosophy Part Two

coming ro fill rhem up. Bm ro invent something unintelligible so as ro of incorporea l subsrn nce, which they falsely attach co corporeal
pro\ide a purely verbal explanation of rarefaction is surely less rational substance; and they relegate the crue idea of corporeal substance to the
rhan inferring chc existence of pores o r gaps which are made larger, aod category of extension, which, however, they term an accident. There is
supposing rhar some new body comes and fills them. Admittedly, we do thus no correspondence between tbeir verbal expressions and what they
not perceive this new body wi th any of our senses; but there is no grasp in their minds.
compelling reason to believe that all the bodies which exist must affect
our senses. Moreover, it is very easy for us to see how rarefaction can co. What is meant by 'space', or 'i11ternal place'.
occur in this way, but we cannot sec how it could occur in any other wai. There is no real distinction between space, or internal place,1 and the
Finally, it is a complete contradiction to suppose that something should corporeal substance contained in it; the only difference lies in che way in
be augmented by new quantity or new extension without new extended which we arc accustomed to conceive of them . For in reality the
substance, i.e. a new body, being added to it at the same time. For any extension in length, breadth and depth which coosrirutes a space is
addition of extension or quantity is unintelligible without the addition of exactly the same as that which constitutes a body. The difference arises as
substance which has quantity and extension. This will become dearer follows: in the case of a body, we regard the extension as something
from what follows. particular, and thus think of it as changing whenever there is a new body;
bur in the case of a space, we attribute co the extension only a generic
8. TfJe disti11ctio11 bet111et11 quantity or 1111111ber and tbe tbi11g tbat bas unity, so that when a new body comes to occupy the space, che extension
quantity or m1111ber is merely a conceptual distinction. of th e space is reckoned not to change bur to remain one and the same, so
There is no real difference between q uantity and the extended substance; long as it rernin s the same size and shape and keeps rhe same position
the difference is merely a conceptual one, like that between number and relative to certain external bodies which we use to determine the space in
the thing which is numbered. We can, for example, consider rhe entire question.
nature of the corpo rea l substance which occupies a space of ten feet
without a uending to the specific measuremem; for we understand this T 1. There is 110 real difference between space and corporeal substa11ce. 46
nature robe exactly the sa me in any pan of the space as in the whole It is easy for us to recognize that the extension constitu ti ng the nature of
space. And, converse ly, we can cbink of rhc number ten, or the a body is ex:1ccly the sa me as that constituting the nature of a space.
continuous q uantity ten feet, without attending to this determina te There is no rnore difference between chem than rhere is between the
substa nce. for the concept of the number ten is exactly the same nature of a genus or species and the nature of an individual. Suppose we
irrespective of whether iris referred to this measurement of ten feet or ro attend ro the idea we have of some body, for example a stone, and leave
anything else; and as for rhc continu ous quantity te11 feet, although chis is out everything we know to be non-essential to the narure of bodv: we
4 5 uninrelligible without some extended substance of which it is the will first of all exclude hardness, since if the stone is melted or pulv~rized
quantity, it can be understood apart from this determinate substance. In it will lose i ~ hardness without thereby ceasi ng to be a body; next we will
reality, however, it is impossible to take even the sma llest fraction from exclude colour, since we have often seen stones so transparent as to lack
the quamity o r excension without also removing just as much from the colour; next we will excl ude heaviness, since although fire is extremely
substance; and conversely, it is impossible to remove the smallest amount light it is still thought of as being corporeal; and anally we will exclude
from the substance without caking away just as much from the quantity cold 3nd heat and all ocher such qualities, either because they are not
or extension. thought of as being in the stone, or because if they change, the stone is
not on char account reckoned to ha"e lost its bodily nature. After all this,
9. If corporeal s11bsta11ce is disti11g11ished from its quantity, it is we will sec that not hing remains in the idea of the stone except that it is
co11ceived i11 a co11f11sed ma1111er as something incorporeal. something extended in length, breadth and depth. Yet chis is just what is
01hers may disagree, but I do not think they have any alternative
t lllC "4..holasll(") d1\tm~uishcJ bctwttn ICK11s intmms, or "inrcnul pl:act' {the sp:tcc
perception of the mntrer. When they make a distinction between ucu1p1eJ b)' J hod)'), and /cxrd txtmms, or exte-mal space' (the e.xrcr~I surl:ice
substance and extension or quantity, either they do noc understand tom.unrng .a. body}. Dc'4.Utu cmplo7$ the rr.idiuonal terminology here :ind at an. 1}
anything by the term 'substance', or else rhey simply have a confused idea he-low, hut Jl'lh It to h1' O\\ n U4i<.
:n8 Principles of Philosophy Part Two
comprised in the idea of a space - not merely a space which is full of r 4. The difference between place a11d space.
bodies, but even a space which is called 'empty'. I The difference between the terms 'place' and 'space' is that the former
dcs~gn~tes more explicitly the position, as opposed to the size or shape, 4 s
1 t. The di((ere11cc bet1vee11 space and corporeal substa11ce lies i11 our while 1r is the size and shape that we are concentrating on when we talk
way of co11ceivi11g tfum. of space. For we often say that one thing leaves a given place and another
There is, however, a difference in the way in which we conceive of space
rhing arrives there, even though the second thing is not strictly of the
and corporeal substance. For if a stone is removed from rhe space or same size and shape ; but in this case we do not say it occupies the same
place where it is, we think that its extension has also been removed from
space. By contra~t, when something alters irs position, we always s.1y the
that place, since we regard the extension as something particular and
place is changed, despite the fact that the size and shape remain
inseparable from the Mone. But at the same time we think that the
unalt~red. When we say that a thing is in a given place, all we mean is
extension of the place where the stone used to be remains, and is the same
that it occupies such and such a position relative to other things; but
as before, al though the pince is now occupied by wood or water or air or
when we go on to say that it fills up a given space or place, we mean in
some other body, or is even supposed to be empty. For we are now
addi tion that it has precisely the size and shape of rhe space in question.
considering extension as someth ing general, which is thought of as being
the same, whether it is the extension of a ~tone or of wood, or of water or
15. Ho1vextenial place ts rightly take11 to be the surface of the
47 of air or of any other body- or even of a vacuum, if there is such a thing s11rro1111di11g body.
- provided only that it has the same size and shape, and keeps the same
Thus we always rake a space ro be an extension in length, breadth and
position relative to the external bodies that determine the space in
depth. But with regard to place, we sometimes consider it as internal to
question .
the thi ng which is in the place in question, and sometimes as ex terna l ro
l) . \'(!bat is metmt uy'extemal place'. it. Now internal place is exactly the same as space; bur external place
The terms place' and space', then, do not signify anything different from may be taken as being the surface immediately surrounding what is in the
the body which is said 10 be in a place; they merdy refer to its size, shape place. It should be noted that 'surface' here does not mean any part of the
and position relative to oth er bodies. To determine the pos ition, we have surround ing body but merely the boundary between the surrounding and
to look at various other bodies which we regard as immobile; and in surrounded bodi es, which is no more than a mode. Or rather what is
relation to different bodies we may say that the same thing is both meant is simply Lhe wmmon surface, which is not a part of one body
changing and not changing its place at the sa me rime. For example, when rather t han th e ocher but is a lways reckoned to be the same, provided it
a ship is nnder way, a man sitting on the stern remains in one place keeps the same size and shape. Fo r if tbere a re rwo bodies, one
rel arive to the other pans of the ship with respect ro which his posirion is sum)unding the other, and the entire surrounding body changes, su rface
unchanged; bur he is constantly changing his place relative to the and all, the surrounded body is not therefore thougbt of as changing its
neighbouring shore~. since he is constantly receding from one shore and place, provided that during 1h 1s rime it keeps the same position relative ro
approaching another. Then again, if we believe t he earth moves,2 and the externa l bodies which are regarded as immobile. If, for example, we
suppose that it advances the same distance from west to east as the ship suppose that a ~hip on a river is being pulled equally in one di rection by
travels from cast to west in the corresponding period of time, we shall the current and 111 the opposite direction by the v,;nd, so that it does nor 49
again say that the man siu ing on the stern is not changing his place; for change its position relative to the banks, we will all readily admit that ir
we arc now determining the place by means of certain fixed poinrs in the stays in the same place, despite the complete change in the surrounding
heavens. Finally, if we suppose that there are no such genuine!) fixed surface.
poinrs ro be found in rhc universe (a ~upposirion which will be shown
below to be probablc1) we shall conclude thar nothing has a permanent 16. t.t is a co11tradiction to suppose there is such a thing as a vac1111111,
place, except as determined by our thought. 1.e. that i11 winch there is 11othi11g whatsoever.
1he i111possibil11y of n vacuum, in the philosophical sense of that in which
i LaL ''""""" Stt below. an. 16. : '... rums on us axis' (French v<rsion).
} ;!1> < French Vtr>IOfl hos 'dcmonstnblr' in>tud of 'probablt". Cf. Port J, rt. z9. p. >s> there i' no ~ub~t:mcc whatsoever, is clear from the fact char 1here is no
1
Ut>"OW, difforcncc hctwccn the extension of a space, or inrernal place, and the
2.}0 Principles of Philosophy />art Two 2.} t

extension of a body. For a body's being extended in length, breadth and extended; for, as I have o ften said, nothingness cannot pO>SC~ any
depth in itself warrants the conclusion that it is a substance, since it is a extension. Hence, i( someone asks what would happen if God were to
complete contradiction that a particular extension should belong ta take away every single body contained in a \'essel, without allowing any
nothing; and the same conclusion must be drawn with respect to a space other body to take the place of what had been removed, the answer must
that is supposc<I to be a vacuum, namely that since there is exrension in it, be that the sides of the vessel would, in that case, have to be in contac1.
there must necessarily be substance in it as well. For when there is noth ing between two bodies they must necessarily
touch each other. And it is a manifest contradiction for them to be apart,
17. Theordi11ary use of the term 'empty' does 1101 imply the total or to have a distance between them, when the distance in question is
absence of bodies. nothing; for every distance is a mode of extension, and therefore cannot
In its ordinary use the term 'cm pry' 1 usually refers not to a place or space exist without an extended substance.
in which there is absolutely nothing at all, but simply to a place in which
there is none of the things that we think ought to be there. Thus a pitcher 19. The preceding conclusio11 confirms what zuc said regardmg
made to hold water is c:illed 'empty' when it is simply full of air; a rarefaction.
fishpond is called 'empty', d espite all the water in it, if it contains no fish; We have thus seen that the na ture of corporeal substance consists simply 5x
:ind a merchant ship is called 'empry' if it is loaded o nly with sand ballas t. in its being something extended; and its extensio n is no different from
And similarly a space is cal led 'empty' if it co ntains noth ing perceivable what is normally attributed to space, however 'empty'. from this we
by the senses, despite the fact that it is full of created, self-subsistent readily sec that no one part of it can possibly occupy more space at one
matter; for normally the only rhings we give any thought to arc those time th:in at another, and hence that rarefaction cannot occur except in
which are detected by our senses. But i1 we subsequently fail to keep in the way explained earlier on. 1 Similarly, there cannot be more matter or
mind what ough t 10 be understood by the terms 'empry' and 'nothing', corporeal substance in a vessel filled with lead or gold or any other body,
we may suppose that a space we call empty contains not just nothing no matter how heavy and hard, than there is when it contains only air
perceivable by the senses but nothing whatsoever; that would be just as and is thought of as empty. This is because the quantit)' of the parts of
mistaken as thinking that the air in a jug is nor a subsistent thing on tl1e matter does not depend on their heaviness o r hardness, but solely on their
50 grounds that a jug is usually said to be empt)' when it contains nothing extension, which is always the same for a g iven vessel.
but ai r.
~o. The foregoi11g results also denzomtrate the impossibility of atoms.
18. How to correct 011r preconceived opinion regarding an absolute We also know that it is impossible that there should exist atoms, that is,
vac1tt11n. pieces of matter that are by their ery nature indivisible <as some
Almost all of us fell into this error in our early childhood. Seeing no philosophers have imagined>. For if there were any atoms, then no matter
necessary connection between a vessel and the body contained in it, we how sm all we imagined them to be, they would necessarily have to be
reckoned there was nothing to stop God, at least, removing the body extended; and hence we could in our thought divide each of them into
which filled the vc~scl, a nd preventing any other body from taking its two or more smaller parts, and hence recogn ize their divisibility. For
place. But to correct this errnr we sho uld consider that, although th ere is anything we can di vide in our thought must, for that very reason, be
no connection between a vessel and this or t ha L particula r body known to be divisib le; so if we were to judge it to be indivisib le, o ur
contained in it, there is a very strong and wholl y necessary connection judgement would conflict with our knowledge. Even if we imagine tbat
between the concave shape of the vessel and the extension, taken in its God has chosen to bring it about that some particle of matter is incapable
general sense, which must be contained in the concave shape. Indeed, it is of being divided into smaller particles, it will still not be correct, strictly
no less contradictory for us to conceive of :i mountain without a valley speaking, 10 c:ill this particle indivisible. For, by making it indivisible by
than it is for us to think of the concavity apart from the extension any of his creatures, God certainly could not thereby take away his own
conrained within it, or the extension apart from the substance which is power of dividing it, since it is quite impossible for him to diminish his

1 Lat. vacmmr, from vacuus, void', "uno:uptcd'; cf. a1c. 18. 1 See nbO\'t, art. 6, J>. 225.
Pri11ciples of Philosophy Part Two 2.11

p. own power, as has been noted above. 1


Hence, strictly speaking, the 'nature' m this conrexr is wh:u causes all corporeal things to ta ke on the
particle will remain divisible, since ir is divisible by its \'Cry narure. characteristics of which we are aware 111 experience.

:i. c. Similarly, tlie exte11sio11 of the world is i11defi11ite. z4. What is meant by 'motio11' i11 the ordi11ary sense of the term.
What is more we recognize that this world, thaL is, the whole universe of Morion, in the ord inary sense of t he term, is simply the actio11by111hid1"
corporea l substance, has no limits to its extension. For no matter where body travels fr01n one place to 111101/Jer. By motion', I mean local
we imagine the boundaries to be, there arc always some indefinitely mouon; for my thought encompasses no other kind, and hence I do no t
ex rended spaces beyond them, which we nor on ly imagine bur also think that any other kind should be imagined to exist in nature. 1 1ow I
perceive to be imaginable in a true fashion, that 1s, real. And it follows pointed our above 1hac the same thing can be said to be cha nging and not
r11ar these spaces contai n corporeal substance which is indefinitely changmg its place ar rhe same rime; 1 and similarly the same thing can be
extended. For, as has nlready been shown very fully, the idea of the said to be moving and not moing. For example, a man sirring on board a
extension which we conceive to be in a given space is exactly the same as ship which is leaving port considers himself co be moving relative to the
the idea of corporea l subswnce. shore which he regards as fixed; but he docs not think of himself as
movin g relati ve to the ship, since his position is unchanged rc lmive to its
2.2..Similal'ly, the e(lrth aud the heavens are com/>osed of one and the pnrts. Indeed, since we commonly t hink all morion involves action, while
same matter; and J/1ere ca111t0t be a p/11rality of ruorlds. rest consists in the cessation of action, tbe man sirring 011 deck is more
It can also easily be gatl1cred from this that celestial matter is no different properly sa id to be at rest than in motion, since he does not have any
from terrestrial matter.! And even if there were an infinite number of sensory awareness of action in hi mself.
worlds, the mailer of which they were composed would have ro be
1dcmical; hence, there cannot in fact be a plurJlity of worlds, bu1 only :i.5. \Vhat is 111ea11t by 'motion' in the strict sense of the tenn.
one. For we very clearly understand that the matter whose nature If, on the orhcr hand, we consider what should be understood by motion,
consists simply in its being an extended submtnce already occupies not in common usage but in accordance with the rruth of the matter, and
absolutely all the imnginable space in which the :illcged ad ditional worlds if our aim is ro assign a determinate nature to it, we may say that 111otio11
would have ro be located; and we cannot fi nd within us an idea of any is tba rra11sfer of one piece of matter, or 011e body, from the vicimty of the
other sort of matcer. other bodies which are i11 immediate contact with it, 1111d which are
regarded as being at rest, to the vicinity of other bodies. By 'one body ' or
13. All the variety i11 matter, all the diversity of its forms, depends on 'one piece of matter' 1 mean whatever is transferred at a given rim<', even 54
motio11. though this may in fact consist of many parts which have different
The matter existing in the en tire universe is thus one and the same, and it motions relative to each other. And I say 'the transfer' as opposed to the
is always recognized as matter simply in virtue of its being exrended. All force or action which brings about tbe transfer, to sho" that motion is
the properties which we clearly perceive in it are red ucible ro its always in the moving bod)' as opposed to the body which bringJ> about
divisibility and consequent mobility in respect of its parts, and its the movcmcnL. The two are not normally distinguished with sufficient
resu lting capacity to be affected in all the ways which we perceive as care; and I wa11r to make it clear that the motion of something that moves
being derivab le from the movement of the parts. If the division ioro pans is, like the l:tck of morion in a ch ins wh ich is at res t, a mere mode of that
occurs sim ply in our thought, there is no resulting change; any variation thing and not itself a subsistent thing, just as shape is a mere mode of the
5 3 in matter or diversity in its many forms depends on motion. This seems ro rhing which has shape.
have been widely recognized by the philosophers, ~ince they have stated
that natuie is the principle of morion and rest. And what they meant by z.6. No more action is requirtd for 111otio11 than for rtsr.
It ~houl<l be noted rhar in this connection we arc in rhc grip of a strong
1 Cf. P.in 1, art. 60. abo\.c p. :.1,. prcconcc" cd opinion, namely rhe belief that more action is needed for
2 Oe1C'artes: here rejec" tht sc:holank d0<..-crinc: o( a r.1d1cal c.ldference in kind between
sublunar)'. or terrt"Strial phcnonttn:t and the incorruptible world or the h<:Jvcn~. 1 ~c.,: uote to P:m . ;1rt . 69. p. i. 17 . J. Above, an. t ), p. u.8.
Principles of Philosophy Part Two 235

morion than for rest. \Vie have been convinced of thi s since early can be contiguous with the same moving body at any one rime, we
childhood owing to the fact that our bodies move by our will, of which cannot assign several simultaneous motions to this body, but only one.
we have inner awareness, but remain at rest simply in virtue of sticking to
the earth by gravity, 1 the force of which we do not perceive through the 29. And it is to be referred only to those co11tiguous bodies which are
senses. And because gravity and many other causes of which we arc regarded as being at rest.
unaware produce resistance when we try to move our limbs, and make us I further specified that the transfer occurs from the vicinity not of any
tired, we think that a greater action or force is needed to initiate a morion contiguous bodies but from the vicinity of those which 'arc regarded as
than ro stop it; for we ra kc action to be the effort we expend in moving being at rest'. for transfer is in itself a reciprocal process: we cannot
our limbs and moving other bodies by the use of our limbs. \Vie will easily understa nd that a body AB is transfeHed from the vicinity of a body CD
get rid of this preconceived opinion if we consider that ir takes an effort without simultaneously understanding that CD is transferred from the
on our part not only to move external bodies, but also, quite often, to vicinity of AB. Exactly the sa me fo rce and action is needed on both sides. 56
stop them, when gravity and other causes are insufficient ro arrest their So if we wished to cliaracterize motion strictly in terms of its own nature,
movement. for example, the action needed to move a boat wbich is at without reference to anything else, then in the case of two co ntig uous
rest in stjll water is no greater than that needed to stop it suddenly when bodies being transfened in opposite directions, and thus separated, we
5 5 it is moving - or ratl1er it is nor much greater, for one must subtract the should say that there was just as much motion in the one body as in the
weight of th e water displaced by the ship and the viscosity of the water, other. But this wo uld clash too much with our ordinary way of speaking.
both of which could gradually bring ir to a halt. For we are used to standing on the eartb and regarding it as at rest; so
although we may see some of its parts, which are contiguous with other
27. Motion and rest are merely various modes of a body in motion. smaller bodies , being rransfened out of their vicinity, we do not for that
We are dealing here not with the action which is understood to exist in reason think of rhe earth itself as in motion.
the body wh ich produces or arrests the morion , but simply with the
transfer of a body, and with the absence of a transfer, i.e. rest. So it is 30. Why, if t.here are two contiguous bodies which are separated from
dear that this transfer cannot exist outside the body..w[lich is in motion, each other, motion is attributed to one of them rather than the other.
and that when there is a transfer of motion, the body is in a different state The principal reason for this is that motion is understood to belong ro the
from when there is no transfer, i.e. when it is at rest. Thus motion a.nd whole body in motion. Now it cannot be understood to belong to the
rest are nothing else but two different modes of a body. whole earth, in virtue of the transfer of some of its parts from the vici.n ity
of smaller contiguous bodies; for often we may observe several such
28. Motion in the strict sense is to be referred solely to the bodies w'7icl1 transfers occurring on the earth in opposite directions. Let the body
are contiguous with t'7e body in motion. EFGH be the earth !see Fig. 1), and suppose that on its surface the body
In my definition I specified that the transfer occurs from the vicinity of AB is transferred from E towards F, and simultaneously the bod)' CD is
contiguous bodies to tbe vicinity of other bodies; I did not say that there transferred from H to G. N ow this very fact means that the parts of tbc
was a transfer from one place to another. Th is is because, as explained earth contiguous with AB are transferred fro m B towards A; and to
above,2 the term 'place' has various meanings, depending on how we
think of it; but when we understand motion as a transfer occurring from
the vicinity of contiguous bodies, then, given that only one set of bodies

, Lac. gravitas, literally 'hea\'iness'. In schola$tic physics this term w~s used to rdtr tO the
supposed inhcrem tendency of terrestd:tl bodies co downward motion. For Descartes'
own use of the term, a11d his purely mechanistic explanation of he:iviness, see beJow Part
4, arc. to-3. Ir should be remembered chat neither for che scholastics nor for Descartes
did the cerm 'gr;wiry' have its modern (postNewtouian) connotarjon of a universal
Mtraccive force.
i. See above, Part t., an. 10, p. .u.7. Fig. J
Priirciples of Philornphy Part Two 137

produce this nansfel', the action in these parts muse be just as great as char rhese are nor really distinct is clear from rhe fact that every single
that in the body AB, and must be of an identical narure. Bur for all that, point on the moving object describes only one line. It does not matter
we do not understand rite earth co be in motion from B t0wards A, or that the line is often very twisted so chat it seems to have been produced
from east ro west; 1 for, if so, the fact chat chose of its pares which are by many different motions; for we can imagine an) line at all - even a
contiguous wid1 the body CD are being transferred from C to D would, straight line, which is the simplest of all - as arising rrom an infin ite
by the same reasoning, require us to understand the earth co be moving in number ol different motions. 11rns if the line AB travels towards CD !see
57 the other direction, from west to east - which contradicts che former Fig. :z.], and at the same time the point A travels cowards B, the straight
supposition. Hence, to avoid too great a departure from che ordinary
way of speaking, we shall say in this case not that the earth moves, buc A B
merely chat the bodies AB and CD move; and similarly in orher cases. Bue
meanwhile we will remember that whatever is real and positive in
moving bodies- that in virtue of which they are said to move- is also to
be found in the other bodies which are contiguous wich chem, e\"en
though these arc regarded merely as being at rest.

3 r. How there may be co1111tless different motioirs in the same body.


Each body has only one proper motion, since it is undersrood ro be
moving away from only one set of bodies, which are contiguous wi;h it
a nd at rest. But it can also ~hare in countless orher motions, namely in
cases where it is :1 pare ol orher bodies which have other motions. For
example, if somco11e walking 0 11 boa rd ship has a watch in his pocket, the Fig. i
wheels of t he watch have only one proper motion, but they also share in
another motion because they are in contact with the man who is caking line AD described by the point A will depend on rwo rectilineac motions,
his walk, and they and he form :1 single piece of macter. They also share from /\ to ll and from AB to CD, in just the same way as the curve
in an additional motion through being in contatt wich the ship tossing on descri bed by an) po int nf the wheel depends on a rectilinear motion and
the waves; rhey share in a further motion through contact with tbc sea :1 circular motion. Alchough it is often useful co separace a single motion
itself; and lastly, they share in yet another motioll through contact with into several co mponents in this way in order ro facilitate our perception
the who le earth, if indeed the whole earth is in motion. Now all the of it, ncvenhclcss, absolutely speaking, there is only one morion that
motio11s will rea lly cxit in the wheds of the watch, bm it is not easy to should be counted for any given body.
have an understanding of so many motions all at once, nor can we have
knowledge of all ol them. So it is enough to confine our attention to thac 33. /low in every case of 111otio11 there is a complete circle of bodies
single morion which is the proper motion of each body. 111ovil1g together.
I noted above 1 that every place is full of bodies, and that che same porrion
3i. How even t/Je pro11er motion 1111iq11e to each body may be ol matter always takes up the same amount of space, <so rhar it is
considered as a fJ/ura/1ty of 111ot1011s. impossible for it to fill a greater or lesser space, or for any other body ro
The single motion that is th e proper motion of each body may also be occupy ics place while it remains there>. It foUows from 1his chat each
considered as ii 1r were made up of se"eral motions. For example, we may body can move only in a <complete> circle <of matter, or ring of bodies
d istinguish cwo different mouons in a carriage wheel - a circular morion which all move together at the same time>: a body entering a given place
58 abour the axle and a rcc:tilincar motion along the line of the road. But cxpd~ another, and the expelled body moves on and expels another, and
1 ThC" ong.n:.l rC"<n tboth l.arin and hC"nch) have the t~rms 'r.m' and ,vest transposI ~o on, unul the body at the end of the sequence encers the place lefc by che
throughout rhr1 amclc. The correcuons adopted hue: .md thrtt Imes lower down Sttm
ncssary to make scme of th~ diagram. 1 Art. 18 3nd 19, pp. :.;o(.
Principles of Philosophy Part Two 239

first body at the precise moment when the first body is leaving it. We can rwicc as great as that at For H; and at every other location an increase in
easily understand this in the case of a perfect circle, since we see tbat no speed must similarly compensate for a narrower space. In this wa)', 1hc
59 vacuum and no rarefaction or condcn~ation is needed co enable part A amount of matter passing through any given part ol the circle in any
of the circle (see Fig. 3J 10 move towards B, provided that B simultaneously given 1ime will always be equal.
moves .towards ~ C towards D and D towards A. Bur the same thing is
1melhg1blc even m the case of an imperfect ci rcle however irregular it may 34. From this it fo/101qs that the mmtber ofparticles into which matter is
be, provided we nocicc how all the variations in the spaces can be divided is i11 fact i11defi11ite, altho11gh it is beyond our po1uer to gras/1
compensated for by varia1ions in speed. T hus all the matter contair.ed them a/I.
in the space EFGH !see Fig. 4) can move in a circle without rhe need for h must, however, be admitted that in the case of this morion we come
upon something the truth of which our mind perceives, while at the same
time being unable to grasp exactly how it occurs. For what happens is an
infinite, o r indefinite,' division of the various parcides of matter; and the
resulting subdivisions are so numerous that howe\er small we make a 60
particle in our thought, we always understand that it is in fan divided
into other still smaller particles. For it is impossible for 1hc matter which
now fills space G successively to fill all the spaces becween G and E,
which get gradually smaller by countless stages, un less some part of that
matter adjusts its shape to the innumerable different vol umes of those
spaces. And for this to come about, it is necessary that all its imaginable
particles, which are in fact innumerable, should shift their relative
positions to some tiny cxtcrH. This minute shifting ol position is a true
case of division.

3 5. Now tf1is di11isio11 comes abottt; a11d the fact that it undoubtedly
takes place, even though it is beyond our grasp.
It should be noted, however, thar J am nor here speaking of the whole of
th is martcr, but merely of some part of it. We may suppose that two or
three of its parts >tr G arc as wide as the space at E, and that rhcrc are also
several sma ll er pans wb ich remain undivided; bur nevertheless we can
still understand them to move in a circle towards E, provided they have
mixed up with t hem various other particles which somehow bend and
change shape in such a way as to join onto chem. Now the former group
do nor change their own shape, but mere!)' adapt their speed depending
on the place they arc to occupy, while the laner group exactly fill all the
fig. 4 crevices which the former do not occupy. We cannot grasp in our
thought how this indefinite division comes about, but we should not
therefore doubt that it occurs. For we dearly perceive that ii necessarily
any condensation or vacuum, and 1he part that is around E can move follows from what we <already> know most evidently of rhe narure of
towards G while the pan 1hat is around G simultaneousli moves towards mancr, and we perceive that it belongs to the class of things which are
E, with this sole proviso: if the space in G is supposed to be four times as beyond 1he grasp of our finite minds.
wide as the space at E and twice as wide as the space at F and H, then che
speed of the motion al E must be four times greater th an that at G and 1 Stt abo,~. Part 1, an. i.6, pp. 2.otf.
Principles of Philosophy Part Two

6 1 3 6. God is the primary cause of motion; a11d /Je al1v.1ys preserves the thing, in so far as it is simple and undi"ided, always remains in the same
same q11a11t1ty of motion in tbe universe. state, as far as it can, and never changes excepr as a result of external
After this consideration of the nature of morion, we must look at its causes. Thus, if a particular piece of maner is square, we can be sure
cause. TI1is is in fact twofold: first, there is the un iversal and primary without more ado that it will remain sqna re for ever, unless something
cause - the general ca use of all the motions i11 the world; and second coming from oursidc changes its shape. If it is at rest, we hold that it will
rbcrc is the particular cause which produces in nn individua l piece of never begin to move unless it is pushed into motion by some cause. And if
matter some motion which it previously lacked. Now as far as the it moves, there is equally no reason for thi nking it will ever lose this
general cause is concerned, it seems clear co me thar this is no orher than morion of its own accord and without being checked by something
God himself. In the beginning <in his omniporence> he created matter, else. Hence we must conclude that what is in motion always, so far as it
along with its morion and rest; and now, merely by his regular can, continues to move. But we live on the Earth, whose composition is
concurrence, he preserves the same amount of morion and rest in the such that all motions occurring near it are soon halted, often b) causes
material universe as he put rhere in the lx>ginni ng. ;\dmittedly morion is undetectable by our senses. Hence from our earliest years we havt often
simply a mode of the mntrer which is moved. Bur nevertheless it has a judged that such mo tions, which are in (acr stopped by ca use~ unknown
certain determi nate quantity; and this, we eas il y understand, may be to us, come ro an end of their own accord. And we tend to believe that
constant in the uni verse as a whole while varying in any given pan. Thus what we ha ve apparently experienced in many cases holds good in all
if one part of mailer moves twice as fost as another which is rwice as cases - namely rha1 it is in the very na1t1re of motion to come to an end, 63
large, we mu st consider that there is the same quantity of motion in each orto ten d towards a state of re~t. This, of course, <is a fa lse preconceived
part; and if one part slows down, we must suppose rhac some other part opinion which> is utterly at variance with the laws of nature; for resr is
of equal size speeds up by the same amouni. For we understand that the opposite of motion, and nothing can by its own nature tend towards
God's perfecrion involves not only his being immutable in himself, bur its opposite, or towards its own dcsrruction.
also his operating in a manner rhat is always rmerly constant and
im mutable. Now there are some changes whose occurrence is guaranteed 3 8. T/111 111otio11 of projectiles.
ei ther by our own plain experience or by divine revelation, and either our Indeed, our everyday experience of projectiles completely confirms this
perception or our faith sho ws us that these take place without any change firsr rule of ours. For there is no other reaso n why a projectile should
in the creator; but aparr from these we shou ld not suppose that any other persist in motion for some time after it leaves the hand thm th rows it,
changes occur in God's works, in case this suggcsrs some inconsta ncy in except that what is once in motion co ntinues to move until it is slowed
62. God. Thus, God imparted various motions to the parts of matter when he down by bodi es that are in the way. 1 And it is clear that projectiles are
first created them, and he now preserves all th is matter m the same way, normally slowed down, little by little, by the air or other (iuid bod ies in
and by the same process by which he originall)' created i1;1and it follows which they arc m01ing, and that th1~ 1s why their motion cannot persist
from what we have said chat chis fact alone make~ it m'osc reasonable to for long. The facr that air offers res1sta1lCe to other moving bodies may be
think rhar God likewise always preserves the same quamiry of motion in confirmed either by our own experience, through rhe sense of touch if we
matter. bear the air with a fan, or by the (light of birds. And in the case of any
other fluid, the resistance offered to the morion of a projectile is even
37. The first law of11a/11rc: each and every thing, in so fa r as it can, more obv ious than in the c.a$c of nir.
always co11ti11ues in the same state; and thus 111/iat is once in motion
always conti1111es to move. 39. The seco11d law of nat11re: all motion is in itself rectilinear; and
From God's immutabi lity we can also know certain rules or laws of hence any body moving in a circle always tends to move away from
nature, which are the secondary and particular causes of the va rious the centre of the circle which it describes.
motions we see in particular bodies. The first of the~ laws is that each The second law is that every piece of maner, considered in irsclf, always
There is for Desc~rtn no real distinction bctv.ecn God'> anio n in crc.umg the Unl\'tr:i.c
tends to continue moving, not in an)' oblique path but only in a srraight
and his acrion m pr~r\ing i1 or ma1n~ai111ng 1t in fX'i"ltcn<'t'. Stt below. an. -1 1.. p. :.41.
and Med. 111: vol. 11, p. H 1 Cf. Tht Wlorltl, ch. 7 : above p. 95
l'ri11ciples of Philosophy Part T11.10 2.4J

line. This is true despite the fact tha1 many panides are often forcibly determina1ion in a certain direction; for the determination of the
denected by the impact oforher bodies; and, as I have said above, 1 in any direction can be altered, while the morion remains constant. As I have
motion the result of all the matter moving simultaneously is a kind of said a bo1e, everyth ing that is not composite but simple, as morion is,
circle. The reason for this second rule is the same as the reason for 1he always persists in being <as it is in itself a nd not in relation co other
first rule, namely 1bc immutability and simplici L)' of the operatio n by things>, so long as it is not destroyed by a n external cause < by meeting
which God preserves motion in matter. For he always preserves 1he another o bject>. Now if one body coll ides with a second, hard body < in
64 mot ion in the precise form in which it is occurring al the very mo menr its path whi ch it is quite incapable of pushing>, there is an obvious
when he preserves it, wirhour taking any account of the motion which reason why its motion should nor remain fixed in the same direcrion,
was occurr ing a little while c.-arlier. his true that no morion takes place in <namely the resistance of the body which denects its path>; bur there is 66
a single instant of time; but dearly whatever is in morion is determined, no reason why its moti on should be s1opped or diminished, <since it is
a1 the individual insranrs which can be specified as long as tbe motion not removed by the other body or by any other cause, and> since one
lasts, to conti nue moving in a given direction along a straight line, and motion is not the opposite of another morion. Hence it follows that the
never in a curve ... 2 mot ion in question ought not to diminish at all.

(65) 40. The third law: if a body collides with a11orher body that is 42. The proof of the second part of this rule.
stronger than itself, it loses none of its motion; b11t if it collides with The seco nd part of the law is proved from the immu tability of the
a weaker body, it loses a quantity of motio11 eq11al lo that which it workingJI of God, by means of which the world is conti nually preserved
imparts to the otber body. through an action identical with its original act of creation. For rhe whole
The third law of nature is this: when a moving body collides with of space is filled with bodies, and the morion of e1ery single body is
another, if its power of continuing in a straigh1 line is less than the rectilinear in tendency; hence i1 is clear 1ha1 when be crea1ed the world in
resistance of the other body, it is deflected so that, while the quantity o( the beginning God d id not only impart various motions to different parts
motion is retained, the direction is altered; but if its power of contin uing of the world, bu t also produced all the reciprocal impulses and transfers
is greater than th e resistance of the other body, it carries thai body alo ng of motion berwecn the parts. nrns, since God preserves the world by the
with it, and loses a quantity of motion equal to that which it imparts to selfsame action and in accordance with the selfsame laws as when he
rbe other bod y. Thus we fi nd that when hard pl'o jectiles strike some other created ii, t he morion which he preserves is not something permanently
hard body, they do not stop, but rebound in rhe opposite d irection; when , fixed in given pieces of matter, but so mething which is mutually
by contrast, they encounte r a soft body, they arc immediately halted transferred when collisions occur. The very fact chat crca1ion is in a
because 1hey readily transfer all their motion to i1. All the particular continual state of change is thus evidence of the immutability of
causes of the chang~ which bodies undergo arc covered by this third law God.'
- or at least the law covers all changes which arc themsehes corporeal. I
am nor here inquinng into the existence or narure of any power to move 43. Tiu! 11at11re of the power 1ul1ich all bodies have to act 011, or resist,
bodies which may be possessed by human minds, or the minds of angels, other bodies.
since [ am reserving this topic for a treMisc 011 Man < which I hope to In this connection we must be careful 10 note what it is that co nstitutes
produce>.J the po wer of any given body to act on, or resist the action of, another
body. Th is power consists simply in the fact that ever)thing tends, so fa r
4 r . The proof of the first part of this rule. as it can, to persis1 in 1he same stace, as laid down in our first law. Thus
The first part o( this law is proved by the fact that 1here is a difference what is joined to another thing has some power of resisting separa tion
berween motion considered in itself "<the morion of a thing> and its from it; and what is separated has some power of remaining separate.
r Art. 33, P ~3 7 Again, what is at rest has some power of remaining at rest and
:. Dt'scarus proctcds to all~tratc the pomt by the ~xamplc of a uone shoe from a ilmg. Cf. consequently of resisting anything that may alter the state of resr; and
P~rt 3, a.rt. 57, p. 2.S9
) This rrcatisel original!)' planntd to fonn Part 6 of the Prt110/1lts (sec bdow Part 4, ,1rt.
188. p. i79, was never wrmc:n. hi.it noc to be confostd w1rh 1hr t:irlier Trtatiu on M1m '. , . ,., no w.l)' 111compo:uible with the 1111111111.ibility of God, and may even serve as
C\'l(f('Ul(" IO l'\l.1hli,h It. (F1c11ch V('l'SI011).
(pp. 99-0S above).
Principles of l'bi/osophy Part Two 2.45

what is in motion h:is some power of pers isting in its morion, i.e. of 46. The first mle. (68)
67 continuing to move with the same speed and in rhe same direction. An
esrimare of rhis last power must depend 6rstly on the size of rhe body 47 The second rule.
in question :ind rhe size of the surface which separates it from other
bodies, and secondly on the speed of the motion, and on the various ways ~8. The third rule.
in which different bodies collide, and the degree of opposirion involved.
49. The fourth mle.

44. The opposite of motio11is11ot some other motion but a state of rest; 50. The fifth rule.
am/ the opposite of the deter111inatio11 of a motion i11 a given
directio11 is its determi11atio11 i11 the opposite directio11. 51. The sixth mle.
It should be no1ed that one motion is in no way contrary co another of
equal speed. Stricrly ~peaking there are only two som of opposition to be 52. The seve111h rule.
found here. One is the opposition between motion and rest, together with .. . These matters do not need proof since they arc self-evident <the {70)
the opposition between swiftness and ~lowness of morion (i n so far, chat demonstrntions arc S-O certain that even if our experience seemed to show
is, as such slowness shares something of the nature of rest). And the us 1he opposite, we should still be obliged to ha\'e more faith in our
second sort is the opposition between the determination of morion in a rca~on than in our ~enses>.
given direction and an encounter somewhere in that direction wirh
another body which is at res1 or moving in another direction. The degree 53. The application of these mies is difficult because each body is
of rhis opposi1ion varies in accordance wirb 1he direction in which a body si11111lta11co11sly in co1ttact 111ith 111atty otbers.
is moving when i1 collides with another. < In fact i1 often happens that experience may appear ro confiict with th e
rules I have just cxpl<t incd, but rhc reason for rbis is evident.> Since no
4 5. How to determine /Jo1u 11111ch tbc 111otio11 of a given body is altered bodies in the universe ca n be so isola1ed from all o thers, and no bodies in
o ur vici11i1y arc normally perfectly hard, the calcula tio n for determining
by collision with orher bodies. This is calclllated by means of the
how much the mo tion of a given body is altered by collision with another
fo//0111i11g '"Jes. body is much more d ifficul1 1han rhosc given above. <So in order to
To enabl e us to determine, in the light of t his, how individ ual bodies
judge whcthe1 die :1bovc rules arc observed here or not, it is not sufficient
increase or diminish rhcir motions or change direction as a result of
to know how two bodies can act against one another on impact.>
collision wi1h other bodies, all that is necessary is to calculate the power
\'(/e have to take in10 account all 1he other bodies whicli are couching
of any given body to produce or resi>t motion; we also need to lay it
them on every side, and these have very different effects depending on
down as a firm principle that the stronger power always produces its
whether they are hard or Buid. So we must now inquire what this
cffecrs. Our calculation would be easy if there were only rwo bodies
d ifference consis1s in.
colliding, and rhese were perfectly hard, and so isolated from all o rher
bodies that no surrounding bodies impeded or augmented their motions.
54. \'V/101 l1ard bodies are, and 111hat fluid bodies are.
In this ca~ they would obey the rules that follow. 1
... If we go on 10 inquire how it comes abou t that some bodies readily
1 Desc.irtts'" <e\'en rub for calculatm_g the spd ~nd d1rcctl()n of bodies 3frtt impact COVC'r ab:indon their place to other bodies, while others do not, we can easily
se.n id<al """' which rt. rtsr<rn'clr: ( 1) "-hctt rwo bodies of <qual size and sp<l
collide ht>J on: (2) um <>I<' (1), bu1 where one body i> larger; (J) as in (1) bu1 wher
,ce that a body alread) in morion does not prevent another body 7r
onc body" .,...vdhng fmn: (-1) where one bocly is al rcs1and1..-gcr; 15) where one body
occupymg the place "hich it is spontaneously leaving; a body at rest, on
is ~I rcsc and sm01Ucrt (6) \\htre ont body IS 31 ra1 and the bodies arc equal in sin-; and 1hc other hand, canno t be expelled from its place except by some force
(7) whtrc rwo boJtf'S colluk '' hc,n CfJclli11g m rht $3mt d1rttrion. The calculations itt all <coming from outMde, which produces a change>. Hence we may infer
SC\'rn nafC"\ prcsi:ippose rh:Jt 'qwntuy of mort0n '. mnsured as the product of ~,ic
{txttm1on} ;ind ~- '' JH<~rvt'd. for au Ensili"h ,cr:o.ioo of these articles, and orhier
th.11 fluid' .irt hodic~ made up of numerous tiny particles which are
m;:atc:rul omm~J he-low. ~e V. R..loJ It P. Miller~ THscartn, />rinapl~s of philosophy .1g11.t1c<I hy .1 VlrlCl)' of 111u1unlly <lis1incr morions; while hard bodies are
(0.>r.lr...:ht: Rmkl, 19N 1), pp. 6-1f. rim"' wlto,t p.1r11dc' .trc ull ti rc\I relative 10 each other.
Principles of Philosophy Part Two 247

55. There is no glue binding together the parts of hard bodies apart from 64. The only principles which I accept, or require, in physics are those of (78)
the simple fact that they are at rest <relative to each other>. geometry and pure mathematics; these principles explain all uat11ral
We certainly cannot think up any kind of glue which could fix together phenomena, and enable us to provide quite certain demo11strations
the particles of two bodies any more firmly than is achieved simply by regarding them.
their being at rest. For what could such a glue be? Lt could not be a I will not here add anything about shapes or about the countless different
substance, for since th e particles are themselves substances, there is no kinds of motions that can be derived from the infinite variety of di fferen t
reason why another substance should join chem more effectively than shapes. These matters will be quite clear in themselves when the time
they join themselves together. Nor could the 'glue' be any mode distinct comes for me to deal with them. I am assuming that my readers know the
frorn their being at rest. For what mode could be more contrary to the basic elements of geometry already, or have sufficient mental aptimde to
motion that separates them than their being at rest? And we recognize no understand mathematical demonstrations. For I freely acknowledge that
orber categories of things apart from su bstances and their modes. I recognize no matter in corporeal things apart from that which the
geometers call quantity, and take as the object of their demonstrations, 79
56. The particles of fluid bodies move with eq11al force in all directions. i.e. that to which every kind of division, shape and motion is applicable.
And if a hard body is present in a fluid, the smallest force is able to Moreoever, my consideration of such matter involves absolutely nothing
set. it in motion . apart from these divisions, shapes and motions; and even with regard to
As for as fluids arc concerned, even though we cannot observe through these, I wi ll admit as true only what has been deduced from indubirable
our senses any motion of their particles, because they are too smal l, such common notions so evidently that it is fit co be considered as a
motion is easily inferred from their effects, especially in the case of air mathematica l demonstration. And since all natural phenomena can be
and water. For air and water corrupt many other bodies; and no explained in th is way, as will become clear in what follows, I do nor think
corporeal action - and corruption is such an action - can occur without that any other principles are either admissible or desirable in physics.
local motion .. .

(73 ) 57. The proof of the above.

(7 5) 58. if any particles of a flt<id move more slowly than a hard body which
is present inside it, the fluid i11 that area does not behave as a fluid.

59. If a hard body is pushed by another hard body, it does not get all its
motion from it; it also gets some of its motion from the surrounding
fluid.

(76) 60. However, it cannot acquire a greater speed from the fluid than it
acquires from the hard body that strikes it.

6 r. When a11 entire fluid body moves in a given direction at one time it
necessarily carries with it any hard body which may be contained
inside it.

(77) 62. The fact that a hard body is carried along by a fluid in this way does
not mean that it is itself in motion.

63. Why some bodies are so hard that, despite their small si:ze, they
ca11>1ot easily be divided by 011r hands.
Part Three 249

true, since we can make some use of all things, if only by exercising our
minds in comemplating them, and thus adocing God for his marvellous
works. Bm nevertheless it is wholly im probable that all things were in
fact made for our benefit, ill the sense that they have no other use. And in
the scudy o f physics such a supposit ion would be utterly ridiculous and
PART THREE inept, since there is no doubt that many things exist, or once existed,
though they a re now here no longer, which have never been seen or
80 The Visib le Universe thought of by any man, and have never been of any use to anyone.

x. We cannot over-estimate the vastness of the works of God. 4. Experiential phenomena and their use in philosophy.
T he various principles of material t hings that we have so far discovered The priuciples whi ch we ha,e so far discovered a re so vast and so fertile,
have been derived nor from the preco nceived opinions of the senses, but that their consequences are far more numerous rhan the entire observed
from the li ght of reason, so that we cannot doubt their truth. Our next contents of the visible world; indeed, rhey are so numerous rhar we could
task is to examine whether these principles alone enable us to explain all never < in a lifetime> make a complete survey of them even in our thought.
natural phenomena <i.e. the eifect'S which we perceive by means of our But l shall now pm forward for scrutiny a brief account of the principal
senses>. Let us begin with the phenomena which are most universal - phenomena of natu re whose causes we m ust now examine. Our purpose
those on which all the others depend; that is to say, let us start with the is not to use t hese phenomena as the basis for proving anything, for we
general structure of the entire visible world. In order to philosophize aim to deduce an account of effects from their causes, nor to deduce an
correctly abou t this, two points must be noted to begin with. The first is account of causes from their effects. 1l1e iorenrion is simply to direc t our 82
that we must bear in mind the infinite power and goodness of God, and mind to a considera tion of some effects rather than othe rs from a mong
not be afraid tliat our imagination may over-estimate the vasmess, tl1e countless effects which we rake to be producible from the selfsame
beauty and perfection of h is works. On the comrary, we must bewa re of causes.
positing limits here, when we have no certa in knowledge of any, on pain
of appearing to have an insufficient appreciation of the magnificence of 5. The ratio between the distances and sites of the rnn, earth and moon.
God's creative power.
6. The distances of 1he remaining planets from the siin.
~. We must beware of being so presumptuous as to think we understand
the ends which God set before himself in creating the world. 7. It is impossible to over-estimate the remoteness of the fixed stars.
The second point is that <we must always remember that our mcnral
capacity is very mediocre, and> we must beware of having too high an 8. If the earth were viewed from the heavens it would appear simply as
opinion of ourselves. We should be doing th is if we chose to assign limits a planet, smaller than j11piter or Saturn.
to the world in the absence of knowledge based on rea>on or divine
revelation - as if our powers of thought could stretch beyond wbar God
9. The sun and the fixed stars shine b)' their own light. (8 3)
81 has actually made. And it would be the height of pre>umpcion if we were
to imagine that all things were created by God for our benefit alone, or
even to suppose rhat the power of our minds can g rasp the euds which he
1 o. 'I1ie ligh1 of the 1110011 and the other planets is borrowed from the
sun.
set before himself in creating the universe.

3. The sense in which it may be said tl7at all things were created fo r man. r 1. There is 110 difference, with respect to light, between the earth and (8 4 )
In erhics it may admicred ly be an act o f piery to assert that God made the planets.
everything for our benefit, since th is may impel us all the more to give
him thank> and burn with love for him . Indeed che assertion is in a sense 1 1.. "/11e moon, when it is new, is illuminatetl by the eart/1.
Principles of Philoso(Jhy Part Three

1 3. The s1111 can be counted as one of the fixed stars, and the earth as one have had no occasion to change it, had he nor been attempting to unfold
of the planets. the actual rruth o f things, as opposed to a mere hypothesis.

14. The fixed stars always keep the same d1stmrce bet1uee11 each od1er; 18. Tycho attrib11us less motio11 to the earth than Copemiats, if wt'
but this is not true of the planets. go by what he actually sa)'s, but i11 reality he attributes more
motion to it.
i5. The observed motio11s of the planets may be explai11ed by various Copernicus had no hcsi1ation in attributing mot ion to the earth, hut
l1)poth eses. Tycho wished 10 correct him on th is point, regarding it as absurd fro m lhc
85 When a sailor on the high seas in calm weather looks out fro m his own poinc of view of physics, and in conflict with the commo n o pin ion of
ship and sees other ships a long way off changing their mutual positions, mankind . But he did not pay sufficient attention to the true natu re of
he ca n often be in doubt whether the mo tion respo nsible for this change motion , and hence, despite hi s verbal insistence that the earth is ac rest, in 86
of pos ition sho uld be attributed to thi s o r that ship, or even to his o wn. In actual fact he attributed more morion to it than d id Copernicus.'
the same way, the paths of the pl anets, when seen from t he earth, arc of a
kind which makes it impossible for us to know, simply on the basis of the 19. My denial of the earth's motion rs more <.areful than the Copernican
observed motions, what proper motions should be attributed to any view a11d more correGt than Tycho's view.
given body. And since rheir parhs arc very uneven and are very The only diHerence between my position and those of Copernicus and
complicarcd, ir is nor easy to explain them excepr by selecting one Tycho is that I propose to avoid attributing any morion to the earth, thus
paucrn , among all those which can make their movcmencs intelligible, keeping closer to the truth than Tycho while at the same time being more
and supposing the movements to occur in accordance with it. To this careful than Copernicus. I will put forward the hypothesis that seems to
end, astronomers have produced three different hypotheses, i.e. supposi- be the simplest of all both for understa nding the appearances and for
tions, which arc rega rded not as being true, bur merely as being suitable invest igating their natura l causes. And J wish t his to be considered >imply
for expl ai ning the appea rances. as a hypothesis <or supposition that may be false> and not as the rea l
truth.
r6 . Ptolem y's hypo thesis does n ot acco1111t for the appearances.
The first of t hese hyporheses is t hat of Ptolemy. Since rhis is in conflict 20. Tl1e fixed stars must be sup/Josed to he ext remely fa r d ista11t fro m
with many o bservatio ns <made recently> (especially the waxing and Saturn.
waning phases of light which are observed on Venus jusr as they are on
the moon), 1 iris now commonly rejected by all philosophers, and hence I :i. c. The sun, like a flame, is composed ofmailer which is extremely
will here pass over it. mobile, but it does 1101 011 that account move from one place to
another.
r7. There is 110 difference betwee11 the hypotheses of Copernicus a11d
Tycho, if they are considered simply as hypotheses. n. The swz differs from a flame 111 not requiring f11el in die same way. (87)
The second hypothesis is that of Copernicus and the third rhar of Tycho
Brahe. TI1ese rwo, considered simply a> hypotheses, account for the 23. The fixed stars do 1101 all turn 011 tl1e same sphere; bllt each star has a
appearances in the sa me manner and do nor differ greatly, exccpr rhar the vast space arou nd it which is not occupied by any other star.
Copernican version is a little simpler and cleare r.2 Jndeed, Tycho would
24. The heavens are fluid . (89)
1 T he diliicovcry, by telesco1>ic observarion, of the ph:ucs of- Venus was first announced by
Galileo JO 16lOj it was an insuperable problem for the traditional Prolemaic model orthe 2.5. T he h eaven s carry along 1vitli them all the bodies which they conta in.
solar S)'Stcm , which plnccd rhe e3rth ::u the cenrrc.
1 Nicolas Copernicus ( r478-\ 543) proposed thllr the planets, including the earth, moveJ
in Clrcul:ir orbits around chc sun: Tycho Brahe (1546- 16o 1) h3d rhe sun revol,ing Dcsc;;1rte., col'npl.tint :i.cern~ tu he thnr Tycho failed ro recognize the ~SS(nt1:1lly rcl.rnvt
01round ;i ccncul c:arth. but the othc;r pl.Jncb rc,olving around the sun. mm1rc.- o( n1ouo11: " bc:ltJw .ire. 28 .rnd :1bovc, PJrc 1, arc. 15-30.
Principles of Phi/osopb)' Parr Three

:z.6. The earth is at rest i11 its own heaven, b11111011ethtless it is carried Rat surface, such that 'up' and 'down' :ire everywhere the same, and the
along by it. four dirt'Ctions, ease, west, sou th and north, are the S<lmc for any point on
rhe s.urfoce; and we have all used these directions for specifying the
(90) :1.7. The same view should be taken of all the planets. locauon of any other body. But what of a philosopher who rea lizes that
the ea rth is a globe contained in a fll!id and mo bile heaven, and tha t the
:i.8. Strictly speaking, the earth does not move, a11y more tban the sun and rh e fi xed stars always preserve the same positions relative to each
pla11ets, althoiigb they are all carried along by the heaven. other? lf he takes rbese bod ies as immobile for the purpose of determin-
Here we must bear in mind what I said above about the naru re of ing t he earth's location, and thus asserts that the eard1 itself moves
motion,1 namely that ii we ui.e the term motion' in the srrict sense and in his way of talking is quite un reasonable. Firsc of all, location in th~
accordance with the truth of things, then motion i~ simply the transfer of philosophical sense must be determined not by means of vcr) remote
one body from the vicinity of the other bodies which arc in immediate bodies like the stars, bur with reference to bodies which arc contiguous
contact with it, and which arc regarded as being at rest, to the vicinity of with the body which is said to move. Secoodly, if we follow o rdinary
other bodies. But it often happens that, in accordance w ith ordinary usage, there is no reason for con~idcring chat it is the stars which are at
usage, any action w hereby a body travels from one place ro anothe r is res t rmher than the earth, unless we believe rhat there are nn other bodies
ca lled ' morion'; and in th is sense it cao be said that the same thing moves beyond them from which they a rc recedi ng, and with reference 10 which
and does not move at the s;ime time, depending on how we determi ne its it can be said tha t they move but the earth is at rest (in the same sense as
location. Ir follows from this that in the strict sense there is no morion the carrh is said to move with reference to the stars). Ye1 to believe this is 9:1.
occurring in rhe case of the earth or even the other planers, since rhey are irrarional. For since our mind is of such a nature as to recognize no limits
not transferred from the vicinity of those p;irts of the heaven with which in the universe, whoe,er considers the immensity of God and the
they arc in immediate contact, in so far as the~c pan~ arc considered as weakness of our senses will conclude that it is much more re:isonablc 10
being at rest. Such a transfer would require them 10 move away from all suspect that there may be ocher bodies beyond all the visible fixed stars;
these parts at the same rime, which does nor occur. But since the celescia l and that, with reference to these bodies, the earth may be s:tid to be at
ma terial is fluid, a t any given rime di fferent groups of particles move cesi, but all the stars may be said ro be in simultaneous motion. T his is
away fro m che planer with which they are in conrncr, by a motion wh ich su rely m~re reasona ble than supposing that there cannot possibly be any
91 shou ld be amiburcd so lely to the particles, nor to the planet. In the same such bodies <because the creator's power is so imperfect; for rh is must be
way, the partial transfers of water and air which occur on the su rface of the suppositio n of those who maintain in this way that the earth moves.
the earth arc not normally arcributed to che earth icself, bur to che And if, later on, to conform to ordinary usage, we appear to attribute
parts of water and air which are cransferrcd. morion to the earth, it should be remembered th at this 1s an improper
way of spe.iking - rather like 1he way in which we may somecimes say
29. No motion should be attributed to the earth evw if 'motion' is taken that passengers asleep on a ferry 'move' from Calais to Dover, because
in the loose sense, in accordance ivith ordi11ary usage; but in this the ship takes them chere>.
sense it is correct to say that the other p/a11ets move.
But if we const rue motion' in accordance with ordinaty usage, then all
the other planers, and even tl1e sun and fixed srnrs should be said ro 30. All the p/a11ers are carried ro1111d the su1t by the heaveu.
move; but t he same ca11no1 without great awkward ness be said of the Let us thus put aside all worries regarding the ea rth's morion, and
earth. For the common pr:ictice is ro determine the position of the stars >upposc that rhe whole of rhc ce lestial matter in which the planccs are
from certain sires on rhe earth that are regarded as being immobile: the loca ted turns continuously like a vortex with the sun at its ceorre.
stars are deemed to mo,e in so far as they pass these fixed spots. This is further, let us suppose that the parts of the vortex which arc nearer the
comenient for practical purposes, and so is quite reasonable. Indeed all \111'1 move more swiftly than the more distant pans, and that all the
of us from earliest year~ have reckoned the earth ro be not a globe bur n pbnm (including the earth ) ahva)s >tay surrounded b)' the same
p.m, of cclc-ii.11matter. 1l1is single <upposition enables us to undersr:ind
1 Sec Part z., art. :t5, p. l.\'l . .111 the ohlrvcd movements of the planets with great case, wichou t
Principles of Phi/osopby Part Three

invoking an)' machinery. 1 In a river there arc various places where rbe 42. The relevant phenomena il1d11de all the things <(le see here 0111t1rtl1:
water twists around on itself and forms a" hirlpool. If 1here is flotsam on but initially there is 110 need to consider them all.
the water we see it carried around with the whirlpool, and in some cases In addition to these rather general phenomena, there are aim 111'111)
we see it also rotating about itS own centre; furrher, the bits which are particular matter. nor only regarding the sun, the planers, the comcc' .111d
nearer the ctntre of rhe whirlpool comple1e a revolution more quickly; the fixed stars, but also concerning the earth (namely everything th.11
and finally, although such flotsam always has a circular motion, it we sec on its surface), which may be included among the relevant
scarcely ever describes a perfect circle but undergoes some longitudinal phenomena here. For, in order to come to know rhe true natme of 1h),
and latitudinal deviations. We can without any difficulty imagine all this visible world, it is not enough to find causes which pro,ide an expl:mn
happening in rhc same way in rhe case of the planers, and this single tion of what we see far off in the heavens; the selfsame causes must also
tlccnu nt explains all the planetary movements that we observe. allow eve r)'tbing which we sec right here on earth to be deduced from
them. T here is, however, no need fo r us to consider all these terrestria l 99
3 r. How the individual planets are carried along. phenomena in order to determine [he causes of more general things. Bue
we sha ll know that we have determined such ca uses correctly afterwards,
193) 31. The movement of su11 spots. when we notice that th ey serve co explain not only the effects which we
were originally looking at, but all these other phenomena, which we were
33. How the earth rotates about its ow11 centre, a11d the moon revolves nor thinking of beforehand.
around the earth.
43. lf a cause allows all the pheuome11a to be clear/)' deduced from it,
(94) 34. The motions of the heavens are 11ot perfectly circular. the" it is virtually impossible that it should 1101 be true.
Suppose, then, that we use only principles which we see to be utterly
3 5. The latit11dinal incli11atio11s of the pla11ets lfrom the plane ofthe evident, and tbat all our subsequent deductions follow by mathematical
ecliptic/. reasoning: if it turns out thac che results of such deductions agree
accurately with all natural phenomena, we would seem to be doing God
(9 5) 3 6. Their /011git11di11al motion {around the s1111 /. an injustice if we suspected thac the causal exp lanations discovered in this
way were false. For th is wou ld imp ly tha t God had endowed us with such
37. All the phe11ome11a (of the solar system/ can be very easily an imper fect nature tha[ even the proper use of om powers of reasoning
1111derstood by means of this hypothesis. allowed us to go wrong.

(96) 38. Acco1di11g to Tycho's hypothesis the earth sho11/d be said to move 44. Nevertheless, 1 tva/11 the causes that l shall set ot1t here to be
about its own centre. regarded simply as hypotheses.
When philosophizing abouc such important matters, however, ic would
(97) 39 ft should a/S-O be said to move an1111ally aro1111d tbe su11. seem to be excessively arrogant for us to assert char we have discovered
the exact truth <where others have failed>; and so I should prefer to leave
40. "f11t {annual/ movement of tht! earth does not produce any apparent this claim on one side, and put forwa rd everything that I am about to
change in the position of the fixed stars, 011 account of tl1eir immense write simply as a hypothesis <which is perhaps far from the truth, so as to
distance. leave everyone free to make up his own mind>. And if it is thought chat
the hypothesis is false, l shall [hink I have achieved something sufficiently
( y K) 4 '. T/,e s11pposition that the fixed stars are very distant is also required worthwhile if everything deduced from it agrees with our observations;
to explain the motion of comets, tvhic/J are now agreed to be celestial for if t his is so, we shall sec that our l1yporhesis yields just as much
bodies. practical benefit for our lives as we wou ld have derived from knowledge
1 l.11'1ier tl1eoc1es had suggested that the planen were carried 01long by compljca ced systems ()f 1he actual truth <because we shall be able to use it just as effectively to
v' rotating sphere'!. manipulate natural cau~cs so as to produce the effects we desire>.
Pri1rciples of Pbilosopby Part Three ~57

45. 1 shall e11e11 make some ass11mptio11s winch art! agreed to be false. proviso that all the consequences of our a~umption must agree with our
Indeed, in order to provide a better explana1ion for the things founci in experience. So, if we may, we will suppose that the matter o( wluch the
nature, I shall cake my investigation of their causes right back to a rime visible world is composed was originall)' divided by God into particles
befo re the period when I believe that the cause~ actually came into which were approximately eq ual, and of a size which was moderate, or
existence.' For there is no dou l>t that the world w:ts created eight from intermediate when compared wi rh those th,tt now make up the hc(1vens
the start with all the perfection which ir now has. Th e sun and earth and and srnrs. We will also suppose rime the roral amount of motion they
moon and stars thus existed in the beginni ng, and, what is more, rhc possc;,scd was eq ual to that now found in the universe; and that their
roo earrh contained nor JUSI the seeds of plants but the plants 1bemselves; and motions were of two kinds, each of equal force. First, th ey moved
Adam and Eve were not born as babies but were created as fully grown individually and separately about their own centres, so as to form a fluid
people. This is the doctrine of the Christian faith, and our natural reason body such as we rake the heavens ro be; and secondly, they moved
convinces us that it was so. for if we consider the infinite power of God, together in groups around certain other equidistant poinrs corresponding
we cannot think that he ever created anythmg that was not wholly to the present centres of the fixed stars, and also around other rather
perfect of its kind. Nevertheless, if we want to understand the nature of more nurnerou;, points equalling the number of the planers <and the
plants o r of men, it is much better to consider how they can gradually comers>, . .. so as to make up as many different vonices1 as there :ire now
grow from seeds rh an to cons ider hnw they were created by God at the hea ven ly botl ic> in t he unive1sc.
very beginning of th e world. Thus we may be able to think up certain
\ery si mple and easily known principles which can M:rve, as it were, as 47 The falsity of these Sllpposi1io11s does 1101prevent1he conseq11e1ices
the seeds from which we can demonstrate that the stars, the earth and ded11ced from rhem being true mid certain.
indeed everything we observe in this visible world could have sprung. For T hese few assumptions S<..'Cm to me to be sufficient to serve as the causes
although we know for sure that they never did arise in this way, we shall <or prin,iple.> from which all the effects observed in our universe would
be able to provide a much better explanation of their nature by this arise in accordance with the laws of nature set out above.! And I do not i oz.
method than if we merely described them as they now arc <or as we think it is possible to think up any alternative principles for expla ining
bel ieve them to have been created>. And since J believe I have in fact the rea l world that are simpler, or easier to understand, or even more
found such prin ciples, l shall give a brief account of th~m here. probable. It may be possible to srnrr from primeval chaos <as described by
the poets, i.e. a total confusion in all parts of the universe> and deduce
46. The assumptions tl1at 1 a111 making here in order 10 give an from it, in accordance with the laws of nature, the precise organization
explanation of all phe110111e11a. now to be found in things; and I o nce undertook to provide such an
From what has already been said we have established that all the bodies explanation.l But confusion seems less in accordance with the supreme 103
111 the universe are composed of one and the same matter, which is perfection of God the creator of all things than proponion or order; and
divisible into indefinitely many pans, and is in fact divided inco a large it is nor possible for us to have such a di~rinct perception of it. What is
number of parrs which move in different directions and have a sort of more, no proportion or order is simpler or easier ro know than thar
ci rcular motion ; moreover, the same quantity of motion is always characterized by complete equaliry in everr respect. This is why I am
presened in the univc1se.L However, we can not ucterrnine by reason suppos ing at this poi nt that a ll the particles of matter were initia lly eq ual
alone how big these pieces of mancr are, or how fost they move, or what in respect both of their size an cl lheir mo tion; and I am allowing no
1or kinds of circle they describe. Since th ere are countless different conligura inequality in th e universe beyond tha t which exists in rhe position of the
tions which God migh t have instituted here, experience alone must reach fixed stars, wh ich is so clearly apparent to anyone looking at the night
us which configurations he actually selecred in preference t0 the rest. We sky that it is quite impossible to deny it. In fact it makes very little
are thus free to make any assumpcion on these matters with the sole difference what initial suppositions arc made, since all subsequent change
1 'from K>\\ on I ~hall use this word ro reltr to all cht mautr wh.ch rt,olvC11n rhtS w.ay
1 The French \'cn:ion read,: rndccd, so f.ar from wishing my rt;idcrs to bche\'e ~cr)'rhing I Jrountl l'.11.'.h of the ctmres' (added m Frcn<h "cr51on).
write, I propose to put forw:ard certain propositions which I bd1c\'C art :1bsolurelr f.il~. i. P.ut 1 .irt. ,7 40.1>p. :.qolf.
i. Se<: Patl 1, esp. an. 20, u .. l ' \4, 39 ::inti 40. \ (;(, 1111 \\for/ti, t.h, 6 (~lbOV(', p. <JOh D;Uflttf${', p,lrt J (above, p. I )1.).
Principles of Philosophy Part Three z.59

must occur in accordance with che laws of nature. And chere is scarcely cemre of their motion in so far as they can. 1 I shall now explain as
any supposition that does not allow the same effects (a lbeit more ca refu lly as I can the force by means of which the globules of the second
laboriously) to be deduced in accordance with the same laws of nature. element .. . strive to move away from their centres of motion; for the
For by the operation of these laws matter must successively assume all nature of light consists in this alone, as will be shown below, and there
the forms of which iris capable; and, if we consider these forms in order, are many ocher matters which depend on knowledge of this point.
we will eventually be able to arrive at the form which characterizes che
universe in its present sra te. Hence in chis connection we need not fear
56. The striving after motion in inanimate things, and how it should be
that any euor can arise from a false supposition. understood.
When I say chat the globules of che second clement 'strive' ro move away
48. Hou1 all the particles of celestial matter become spherical. from t he centres around which they revolve, it shou Id not be thought chat
I am implying that rhcy have some thought from which this striving
(10 4 ) 49 . There must be other more subtle matter <more tiny particles> proceeds. I mean merely that they are positioned and pushed into motion
around these spherical particles <to (Wall the space in that area>. in such a way that rbcy will in foct travel in that direction, unless they are
prevented by some other ca use.
50. The particles of this more subtle matter can be very easily divided.
57. H ow the same body can be said to strive to move in different
directions at the same time.
5 i. And they move very quickly.
Often many different causes ace simultaneously on the same body, and
one may hinder che effect of another. So, depending on the causes we are
(ro5) 5 2. There are three elements of this visible world. considering, we may say that the body is tending or striving to move in
We have .. . two very different ki nds of matter which can be said to be different directions at che same time. For example, the scone A (sec Fig. 5]
the first two elements of this visible universe. The first element is made up
of matter which is so violently agitated that when it meets other bodies it
is divided into particles of indefinite smallness ... The second is
composed of matter divided into spherical particles which are still very
minute when compared with those thac we can sec with our eyes, but
which have a definite fixed quantity and can be divided into o ther much
smaller panides. The third element, which we sball discover a little later
on, consists of particles which are much bulkier or have shapes less
suited for motion. From these elements, as we shall show, all the bodies
of this visible universe are composed. The sun and fixed stars are
composed of th e first element, the heavens from che second, and the
earth with the plan ets and comers from the th ird . .

A c G
(io6) 5J. Three heavens can also be distinguished in it.

(107) 54. How the sun and fixed stars were formed. 0

Fig. 5
(10 8) 55. Wbat light is.
1 Sec.: P:lrt i., art. 39. above 1>. 2.4i.
his a law of nature that all bodies moving in a circle move away from the
2.60 Pri11ciples of Philosophy Part Three 2.61

in the sling EA which is swung about the centre E tends to go from A to 68. The vortices ore of unequal site.
B, if we consider all the causes which go to determi ne its morion, since it
does in fact go in this direction. But if we conccnrrate simply on the 69. The matter ofthe first element flows from the poles of each vortex
power of moving whi ch is in the stone itself, we ;h al l say that when it is towards its centre, and from the centre towards tbe otlJer
109 at point A it tends towards C, in accordance with the law sea ted above parts.
(supposing, of course, th at the line AC is a stra ight line which touches the
circle at point A). For if the stone were to leave the sling at the exact 70. The same thing cannot be supposed to occurin the case of tbe matter ( u 1)
moment when it arrived from L at poinr A, it would in fact go from A of the second eleme11t.
towards C, not towards B; and although the sling may prevent this
outcome, it does not pre1em the 'striving'. Finally, if we concentrate not 71. '11Je reason for this differeuce. (123)
on the stone's roml power of moving but only on that part which is
checked by the sling, and we distinguish t hi s from the remaining part 7t. Ho1u the matter of which the sun is made moves. ( 125)
which produces the actual result, we shall say that when the stone is ar
poi nt A, it tends co move sim ply cowards D, or th:n it 'strives' to move 73 . There are various inequalities i11 the position of the solar body.
away from the centre ~ nlong the straight line EAD.
74. There are also various inequalities in the mo11ements of its matter. (n8)
(r ro) 58. How bodies moviug iu a circle strive to m ove away from their centre
of m otion. 75. Tbt!se i11equalities do 11ot prevent the shape of the srm from being (u9)
ro11ud.
( rr r) S9 The extent of the force of this striving.

( cc l) 60. This strivi11g is found i11 celestial matter. 76. Tbe motion of the first element as rt travels betwee11 the glob11/es of ( 13 I)
the seco11d element.
6r . This is the cause of the sun and the fixed stars being ro1md.
77. Ho 111 the light of the sun is diff11sed not 011/y towards the ecliptic hut
( 113) 62.. It is also the reaso11 wiry celestial matter strives to move away from also towards the poles.
all the points of the cirwmfere11ce of eac/J star or of the sun .
78. Ho111 it is diffused towards the ecliptic. (13 3)
(H4 ) 6 3. The globules of ce'!stial matter do 11ot /1111der each other in this
striving. 79. Tbt motion of one small body readily produces motio11 in otber
bodies which are so exceedi11gly remote from it.
This striving exp/ams all the properties of light. A11d as a remit of it,
light could be seen to emanate from the stars, despite the lack ofa11y 80. H ow tl1e light of the swr m oves towards the poles. (r34)
light-prod11ci11g force iu the stars tl1e111selves.
81. Whether the strength of the light at the ecliptic is equal to that at the (13 5)
(u6) 65 . The poles of eacb relestial vortex touch the parts of other vortices poles.
whid1 are remote from their poles.
82. Tiu globules of the seco11d i!lement which are 11ear the s1111art (13 7)
(117) 66. 11,ere must be some deflection in the motion of the vortices so that
smaller, a11d move more quickly, than those which are more remote;
they can move in harmony.
this rs true up to a certain dista11ce, beyond 1vhich all the glob11/es are
equal in size and hence m ove more quickly the further they are from
( , 18) 67. 71ut poles ofany 11110 vortices canuot bl iu cw1t11ct. t/J(' Slllt .
2.62. Principles of Philosophy Part Three 2.63

83 . Why 1he globules that are very remote move more quickly than those 98. I low spots are converted imo bright areas, and vice versa.
w/,ich are slightly less remote.
99. The kinds of particles into which simspots disintegrate. ( 150)
(1 38) 84. Why the globules closest to the s1111 move more quickly than those
1vhich are slightly farther away. 100. Tlow the ether roimd the s11n and stars is produced from these
particles. This ether and the spots belong to the third element.
( r.<o) 85. Why the globules nearest to tl1e s1m are smaller than those which are
more remote. IOI. The prod11ctio11 and disintegration of spots depends 011 very (151)
1mcertain causes.
(142) 86. The glob11les of tbe second element move in various different rvays at
the same time; and as a res11lt they become completely 102.. llow the same spot can cover an entire star.
spl1erical.
103. Wby the s11n sometimes appears less bright, a11d uhy the apparelll ( tp.)
87. There are vario11s degrees ofspeed i11 the tiny particles of the first mag11it11des of certai11 stars change.
element.
co4. Why some fixed stars disappear or appear unexpectedly.
(14) 88. Those tiny particles which have the least speed easily transfer what
speed they have to other particles, and stick to one another. 105. There are many passages in the spots thro11gh which the striated (c53)
particles freely pass.
89. S11ch clusters of ti11y /Mrticles are chiefly found in the matter of the
first element 111hich is carried from the poles to the centres of the L06. The arra11geme11t of these passages, and why the striated particles (c5 4)
vortices. cam101 return thro11gh them.
90 . The shape of t/,ese mi11ute particles, which will from 11ow 01t be
io7. Why particles coming from one pole do 11ot pass through the same
called striated varticles .
passages as tl1ose co111i11g from the opposite pole.
( 145) 91. The particles co111i11g from OfJf1osite poles are twisted ht opposite
108. fiow the mat tel' of the first element passes throttgh these passages. (r 5 5)
tvays.
J09. Other passages i11tersect them crosswise. (t56)
92. There are 011ly three grooves i11 them.
IYO. 'f/1e light of such stars can scarce/)' pass through a spot. (t57)
(147) 93. Besides these striated par1ic/es, a11d those which are the most minute
of all, the first ele111e11t co11tai11s other particles of various sizes. TTT. Descriptio11 of a star appearing unexpectedly. ( 58)

94. How these particles produce spots 011 the surface of tbe srm and the [1 2.. Description of a star gradually disappearing. (160)
stars.
n3. Ill all spots there are many passages hollowed out by striated ( 161)
(r'!8) 95. This enables us to ascertain the prmcipal properties of these spots. particles.
96. Ho1v the spots dismtegrate, and 11ew ones are prod11ced. 1 14. The same star can appear and disappetJr in turn. (162)

( q9) 97. Why it ts tltat the colours of the rainbo1v appear at the extremities of II S A11 e11tire vortex which co11tai11s a star at its centre can sometimes
some spots. be destroyed.
Principles of Philosophy Part Three

(164) n6. How it ca11 be destroyed before 111011)' spots have gathered around 134. nu type <>f refraction responsible for a comet's tail. (t86)
its star.
135. The explanation of this refraction.
(i 66) 1 17. How tliere ca" be very ma11y spots aro1111d a star before its vortex is
destroyed. 136. The explanatio11 of the appeara11ce of the tail. (188)

u8. How such a large 1111111ber of spots is pr0<l11ced. 1 37. How beams of fire also appear.

(168) 1 r9. How a fixed star is cha11ged i1110 a comet or a plane/. 138. \tfhy the tail of a come/ does not always appear i11 a directio11
directly opposite to the sun and does not alrvays appear straight.
( 169) 120. The direction i11 whteh such a star moves when it first ceases to be
fixed. l 39 Why such tails do not appear aro1111d the fixed stars or planets.

(170) u 1. What rve 1mdersta11tf by the solidity of bodies, and their 140. What sets a planet i11 motion.
agitation.
I 4 T. The causes of the deviations i11 planetary motio11s. The first cause. ( 1 93)
(172 ) J z.i. Solidity depe11ds 1101 011 matter alone but also 011 size and
shape. 14 2. 11,e second.

123. flow celestial glo/J11/es can be more solid tlJan a whole star. 143 The third.

( 17) ) l 24. f /ow they COii a/so be less solid. 144 The fo ttrth (r94)

( 174 ) u5 . flow some arc more solid tha11 a star and others less solid. T 45 The fifth.

126. What sets a comet i11 111otion. 146. 'f'he initial formatio11 of all the plaitets. (195)

(176) 127. T!Je co11ti1111atio11 of a comet's motio11 1hro11gh variot<s vortices. 147. Why some of t/,e planets are more remote from tlie sun; this does (1 96)
irot clepe11d 011 their size a/011e.
(1 78) 128. Phenomena pcrtainmg to co111ets.
148. Why those nearer to the s1111 move faster, although the s1111's spots
(179) 12.9. The exp/a,,atio11 of these p/Je110111e11a. move very slowly.
(180) x30. Horu the light of a fi.~cd star reaches the earth. 49 Why the moon revolves around the earth.
l ( 197)
(1 82) 131. Whether tbe fixed stars are see11 i11 their tme locatio11s; and what
the fir111ame11t is. 150. Why the earth rotates 011 its axis.

13?.. Why comets are 1101 see11by11s whe11 theyare o11tsideo11r heaven; J 51. \"(lhy the 1110011 moves faster th01r the earth.
1111d, i11cidentally, why coals are black a11d ashes white.
1 p.. Why very 11early the same face of the moon is alruays tumed
( r X~) 111. I hi' tml of a coml!t a11d its vario11s phenomena. towards the earth.
266 Principles of Philosophy

(199) 153 W!hy the moon moves faster and diverges less from its mea11 motion
in co11ju11ctio11 than i11 quadrature; a11d why its heaven is not round.

( 2.oo) t 54. \'(!hy tf1e secondary planets 1vhic/J are around Jupiter move so fast,
while those around Sa111m move so slowly, or not at all.
PART FOUR
( 2.01) rs 5. \'(!hy the dista11cebetween the poles of the equator and the ecliptic
is so great. The Earth 2.0J

(1 02.) 1 56. \V/Jy the d1sta11ce is grad11ally lesse11i11g. J. The false lrypothesis which 1 have already used mrtSt be retained to
provide a11 expla11atio11 of the true natures of things.
157 The ulti111atea11d most ge11eral cause of all the i11eq11alities to be Although, as I have already poinred out,1 I am unwilling to believe that
fo1111d i11 tl1e motions of the bodies i11 the u11iverse. the bodies in this \isible universe were ever produced in the manner
Lastly, we shall not be surprised at rhe fact that all the planets, despite described above, I must srill retain the same hypothesis for explaining
their constant tendency to move in a circular fashion, never describe what we obser'c here on earth. For if, as I hope, I can show dearly tha1
perfect circles but are always subject ro slight deviations of all kinds, this method, and no other, enables us to supply causes for all natu ral
both longi1udi11al and latitudinal. For all the bodies that are in the objec1s, it wi ll be fair to concl ude thar <alrho ugh the world was not made
universe are contiguous and interact with ead1 other <a vacuum being in this fashion in the beginning, but was created ready-made by God>
q uite impo~sible>, so tha1 the motion of any o ne body depends on the the nalure of rhcsc objects is exactly the same as it would be if they had in
motion of al l th e others, and hence is subject to countless variations. I fact been produced in the ma nner described .
think I have here given a sarisfactory explanation of absolutely every
phenomenon that we observe in the heavens above us. It remains for us 2. How, according to this hypothesis, the earth was produced.
to deal next with 1he phenomena we see here o n earth.
3. The divisiou of the earth into three regions. The description of the (2 o4 )
firsr.

4. The descriptio11 of the second. (2.05)

5. The description of the third.

6. The particles of the third element which are in this third region must
be fairly large.

7. These particles can be cha11ged by the actio11 of the first a11d seco11d (.1.06)
elements.

8. They are bigger than tbe globules of tbe second elemetlf but less solid
and less agitated.

9. From tbe beginnmg they have formed successive layers around the
ear1h.
:z.68 Principles of Philosophy Part Four

( 20 7 ) i o. Various gaps have been left around them, which are filled with except bodies which in no way hindered or ass isted the motion of other
matter of the first and second elements. bodies (which is the only intelligible way of undemanding the term
'empty'); and suppose farther that the earth revolved about its axis by its
l 1. The globules of the second elem ent were originally smaller, the own motion in the space of twenty-four hours. In this case all th e
nearer they were to the centre of the earth. terrestrial particles which were nor very firmly joined together would
leap off in a ll directions cowards the heavens . In just the same way, if you
u. And they had 11arrower passages to pass throt1gh. throw sanct on a spinni ng top you will see it immediately fly off and
disperse in all directions. T hus the earth would have ro be called light
(zo8) 13. The thicker particles were not always below the thinner. rather than heavy.

l 4. The original formation of various bodies in the third region of the :z.2. \YIhat the lightness of the celestial matter consists in. u 3
earth. Since, however, there is no such vacuum, and the earth is not driven' by
its own motion bur by the celestial matter which surrounds it and
15. The forces which caused these bodies to be produced. First, the pervades all its pores, it behaves like a body at rest. Yet in so far as the
general motion of the celestial globules. whole of the celesrial matter moves uniformly with the earth as it drives
it, it has no force of heav iness or lightness. But in so far as its parts have a
(209 ) x6. The first effect of this firs t force is to make bodies transparent. greater degree of agitation than th ey use up in driving the eanh, and are
prevented , by encou ntering the earth, from continuing cheir recrilinear
(2xo) 17. How a solid and bard body can have enough passages to transmit motion, they always move away from the ea nh as far as chey can, and
rays of light. this is what their lighrness co nsists in.

18. The second effect of this first force is to separate one body from :z.3. How all the parts of the earth are driven downwards by the celestial
another and to purify liquids. matter, and so become heavy.
Nexc we should nore that the power which the individual particles of
( 211 ) r9. The third effect is to make drops of liquid round. celestial matter have to move away from < the centre of> the earrh cannor
ach ieve its effect unless, in moving upwards, the particles displace vario us
(:uz) :z.o. Exp/a11atio11 of the second force, which is called 'gravity'.' terrestrial particles, thu s push ing them and driving them downwards.
T he force of gravity does nor di ffer greatly from the third action of the Now all the space around t he earth is occupied either by particles of
celestial globu les. n1ese globules, mere ly in vi rtue of t heir indiscriminate terrestrial bodies or by celesrial matter. All the globules of the celestial
mot ion in all directions exert an equal pressure on all the particles of each matter have an equal cendency to move away from the earth and thus no
drop of liquid, thus pressing them towards the centre of the drop and individua l one bas the force to displace any other. But th e particles of
ma king the drop itse lf ro und. And in virtue of the selfsame motion, when terrestrial bodies do not have this tendency to so great an extent. So
the globules are prevented from moving in a straight li ne by encountering whenever any celestial globules have any terrestrial particles above them
the entire mass of the earth, they propel all the earth's particles towards they must exert all their force to disp lace them. Th us the gravity of any
th e centre, and this is what the 'gravity' of terrestrial bodies. consists in. teuestrial body is not strictly produced by all the celestia l marrer
surrounding it, but only and exactly by the part of it which rises into the
2x. All the parts of the earth, considered in tbemselves, are not heavy but space left by the body as it descends, and hence which equals it in size ...
light.
To achieve a perfect understanding of the nature of gn1viey, we must first :z.4. How much heaviness there is in each body. (214)
of all note the following point. Imagine that all the spaces around the
c:trrh unoccupied by terrestrial matter were empty, i.e. contained tlothing 1 The Latin is ambiguous as w whecher the molion referred to is the earch's diurnal
1 See footnote l, p. 23 4 :ib<ne. rol3tion or ilS annual re\o lution. TI1c Fren<;h version $pecific:s the former.
270 Pri11ciples of Philosophy Part Four 27J

25. This q11a111i1y does not corrcsfwnd to the quantity of matter in each 44. This is the reaso11 wl1y mountains, plaim, seas, etc. were produced
body. 011 1/1e s11rface of the earth.

(215 ) 26. Why bodies do nor gravi1atedo1vnwards when they are i11 their own 4 5 The nat14re of air. (2. 3 I )
natural places.
46. Why it is easily rarefied a11d conde11sed.
(2t6) 27. Gravity p11shes bodies do11111 10111ards the centre of the earth.
47. How 11 can be forcibly compressed in certain machines.
(21 7) 28. The third force, winch is light. How it moves the particles of air.
48 . The 11at11re of water, a11d how it easily tums either into air or i11to ( 2.p.)
(n8) 29. The fourth force, winch is heat. What it is and how it persists eve11 ice.
whe11 light is removed.
49 Tbe ebb and flow of the tides.
30. Wfby it penetrates farther than light.
50. Why the tide rises for six i/ 5th hours and falls for six c/ 5th (2.34)
3r. WIhy it rarefies almost all bodies <and condenses some>. hours.

J 2.. How the highest regio11 of the earth was first divided into two 5' Wiry the rides are greater when the moon is f11/I or new. ( 235)
different bodies.
51. W hy they are greatest at the equinoxes. (2.36)
(22.0) 33 The disti11ction betrvee11 three principal kinds of rerrestrial particle.
53 Why air a11d water always flow from ea.st to west.
34 Ho111 a third body was form ed in between the {rrst two.
54. Why regions l11wi11g sea to the east are more temperate than others at (237)
(22.I ) 35 Tlie />articles contai11ed in this body are of one kind on ly . the sam e latitude.

(22.2.) 36. And they are of 011/y t1vo specific ty(Jes.


55. Wlr)' there is 110 eb/J and (10111 in lakes or swamps; and why it occurs
(2:z.3 ) 37 How the lowest bod) was divided i11to 111a11y others . at differe/11 hours 011 different shores.

(224 ) 38. The formation of a1101her, /011rth, body above the third. 56. H ow 111e s/1011ld i11vesligate the particular causes of this 0 11 the (238)
individual shores.
(H5 ) 39 The accretion of this fo urth body, and the purifrcatio11 of the t/1ird.
57 T/1e 111111ire of the earth's iitterior.
(!26) 40 . I low the bulk of this third bod)' 1uas red11ced, so as to leaw a spau
ber111een it a11d the fourth body. 58. The nature of q111cksilver. (.1.39)

(z:z.7) 41. How tbere were mall)' fissures prod11ced in the foi,,th body.
59 The variation in the heat pervading the earth's i11terior.
(n.8) 42. How it was brokm with vario11s pieces.
60 . "J11e actio11 of this heat. (2.40)
(!30) 4 1 I low tbe third body bas partly mowd above the fourth and partly
nuraincd below. 6 1. The bitter juices and acids from which vitriol, alwn etc. are formed. (241 )
272 Principles of l' /1ilosopby Part Four 273

(24:z.) 62. The oleagi11011s matter of bitu111e11. rnlphur etc. So. The 11at11re of fire, and rhe difference between fire and air.

63. T/Je basic elements of the chemists; and bow metals come up into Sr. Ho111 fire is first kindled. (:z.50)
1ni,,es.
8:z.. Ho111 it is kept going.
64. The exterior of the earth, a11d the origin of springs.
83. Why it 11eeds fuel.
(143) 65. Why the sea does not increase as a result of the rivers flowi11g
into it. S4. I lo111 it is sparketl off by striking flints. (251 )

(144) 66. Wiry spri11gs are not salt, and seawater does not berome fresh. 85. How it is ki11dled from dry twigs. (:i.p.)

67. Wiry the water in certai11 111ells is brackish. 86. Or by foc11ssing the rays of the s1111. (2.53 )

(145) 68. Why salt is also dug 0 111 of cert11i11 11101111tai11s. 87. Or simply by very violent morion.

69. Nitre, a11d other salts which are differem from sea salt. 88. Or by mixing of vttrtous bodies.

70. Vaponrs, acrid spirits a11d e.-i:halations which come up from the 89. In light11i11g a11d shooti11g stars. (:1.54)
eartb's i11terior to the exterior.
90. In thi11gs wl1ic/1 shine mid do not burn, such as falli11g stars.
(146) 7 i. How rhe various 111ixt11res of these produce various kinds of s1011es
and other minerals.
91. In drops of ser1water, i11 rollen wood and the like. (:1.5 5)
72. How metals reach 1he exterior of the earth ftom its i11terior; and
how 111i11itm1 is formed. 92.. /11 thi11gs 111hich 1vow hot b11t do 1101 sl1i11e, such as stored /111y. (i.56)

( 1 4 7) 73 Why metals arc not /01111d every1vhere 011 earth. 93. Ill lime S/Jri11klcd rvirh water, a11d other cases. (2.57)
74 Why they ate fo1md especially at r/1e base of mo1111tains towards the 94 How fire is ki11d/ed i11 cavities of the earth.
south a11d east. (2.58)

95. 110111 a candle bums.


75 All 111i11es are in t/1e exterior of the earth; the i11terior can never be
reached by diggmg.
96. Ho1v the fire i11 a ca11dle is kept goi11g. (:t59)
76. S11lph11r, b1111111e11, day and oil.
97. \Vhy its flame is pomted a11d smoke comes out of it.
(148) 77. How an earthquake occurs.
98. How mr a11d other bodies feed the {lame. (.?.60 )
,8. \Vhy fire empts from certain 11101111tai11s.
99. The movemellt of air towards a /ire.
(i.4 9) ,9. \Vhy there are usually several tremors in an earthquake, so that it
rnm1timts lasts fo r s111ert1l l1011rs or de1ys. 100. What extinguishes fire.
274 l'ri11ciplcs of Philosoph)' Part Four 275

(l.61) (QJ. The necessary co11ditions for a body to be suitable for fuelling .12.0 . Three kinds of waters: burning, insipid, and acidic.
a fire.
,I l.1. S11blimates and oils. '""')
101. Why tbe flame from alcohol does not bum a linen cloth .
112.. Alterations in the effect of fire when its i11tensity is altered.
103. Why alcohol bums very easily.
u.3. Lime.
(162) 104. \Vhy it is very d1ffic11lt for water to bum.
114. Ho1v glass is made. (170)
105. \V/Jy the force of great {ires 1s i11creascd by 1/Jrowi11g water or salt
on them. u5. Ho1v its particles are joined together.

106. What kinds of bodies bum easily. 12.6. \V/hy it is liquid when it is white hot a11d easily takes on any s/1<1(11'. (171)

(:z.63) co7. Why certain bodies are i11fla111mable and others 11ot. 12.7. Why it is very bard when cold. (z.72)

108. Why fire is kept going for a co11siderable time in live coals. 12.8. \V/hy it is very fragile.

109. How gunpowder is made from s11/(Jl111r, 11it1e and charcoal. First, X2.9. Why its fragility decreases if it is cooled slowly.
tile 11at11re of sulplmr.
130. \V/hy it is tra11spare11t. (273)
IlO. Nitre.
I Jr. Ho111 it becomes colo11re<l. (:z.74)
(264) (lI. The combi11ario11 of mlph11r and nitre.
13 2.. Why ir is rigid like a bow; and, in general, why rigid bodies, when
bent, spo11taneo11sly ret11m to their former shape.
J 12.. The mo1io11 of t/Je particles of 11itre.
IJ3 . Mag11eric ore. Recapit11latio11 of the points made above whicli ( 17~)
1J3. \Yl/Jy tlie flame from this powder is greatly dilated and its p,-incipal are req11ired to explai11 it.
action is to1vards bodies 111/Jicil are above it.
134. Tliere are 110 passages i11 air or water s11it.able for receiving striated (1711)
114. Charcoal. particles.

(:z.65) I I 5 The grains of this po1vder, a11d what its princi,oal force consists in. 135. '/here are none i11 any bodies belo11gi11g to the earth's exterior, (!7"1
except for iron.
t16. umtems winch bum for a very long time.
136. \V/hy there are such passages in iron.
(167) 117. The remaining effects of fire.
137. \V/hy such passages exist even in si11gle iron filings. l .1.7K)
118. The bodies which liq11e{y and boil 1vhe11 brought near to fire.
138. Ho111 the passages are made suitable for receiving striated (1<1rt1d(s
(.1.68 ) I 19. The bocl1es 111/11ch dry up and become hard. comi11g from either direction.
2.76 Principles of Philosophy Part Four 277

(2.79 ) 1 39 The nat11re of a m agnet. r57. Why there is the same power in any part of a magnet as there is in
tl1e whole magnet.
(280) 140. Ho111 steel and any ki11d of iron is made by smelting.
t58. Why a 111ag11et imparts its power to a piece of iron whid1 is made to (z.9 6)
(2.8 1) 141. \Ylhy steel is very hard, rigid a11d fragile. touch it.

142.. The difference between steel and other iron. r 59. Why the piece of iron receives this power in vario11s ways
corrtspo11ding to the different ways in which it touches the magnet.
143 I low steel is tempered.
16o. Why an oblong piece of iron can receive the power only along its (l.97)
(2.83) L44. The difference in the passages fo11nd in a magnet, i11 steel, and in length.
iron.
!61. Wby a magnet loses none of its power by imparting it to the
(2.84 ) 1 45 . f.1111111eration of the properties of 111ag11ets. iron.

(2.87) 146. /-low striated particles /1ow through the passages of the earth. t62.. Why this power is imparted to the iron very quickly, although it (2.98)
takes some time for it to be firmly fixed in it.
(2.88) r47. It is harder for them to move through the air, the water and the
exterior part of the earth than through the interior. r63. Why steel is better fitted to receive the power than baser types of
iro11.
(28 9) r48. It is easier for them to go through a magnet than through other
bodies 011 tbe earth 's exterior. r64. Why more {lower is im(iarted by a more perfect magnet than by a
less perfect one.
[ 4 9 What the poles of a 111ag11et are.
r6 5. Why the earth itself imparts mag11etic power to the i1011.
150. Why these poles tum towards the earth's 110les.
i66. Why the magnetic power in the earth is weaker tban that. in small (i.99)
(290) I5 r. Wh y they arc also ilrcli11ed at a certain angle towards its centre. 11111g11ets.

(2.91) Ip. Why 011e magnet t11ms and i11cli11es itself towards a1101her mag11et 167. Why needles touched by a mag11et always have their magnetic poles (loo)
i11 the same way as 11 does towards the earth. at their extremities.

(292.) r5 3 Why two magnets attract each otber, a11d tl1e sphere of actio11 of 168. Why 111ag11etic poles do not always fioint accurately to the earth's
ead1. poles, bttt diverge from them at various angles.

(294) 15'1. \Vhy they sometimes repel each other. 169. Why this divcrge11ce alters in time. (301)

(295) i 5 5. \'(11,y the parts of the segmems of a magnet which were pretJio11sly 170. \YIhy the divergence ca11 be smaller 111hen the magnet is made to
1oined also repel each other. staml on 011c of its poles than when its poles are t11J11idistant from
the earth.
I ~6. \Vhy, if a magnet is broken 11p, t1110 previously co11tig11011s but 11ow
sep1m1ted points arc poles w1tl1 opposite powers. r7 1. Why ct 11111xm1 t1tlr11cts iro11. (302)
Principles of Philosophy Part Four 279
172. Why an armed magnet lifts much more iron than an unarmed bodies: how a huge flame ca n be kindled from a tiny spa rk in a moment
one. <when it fa lls on a large q uantity of powder>, and how great its power
(3 03) 173 Why its poles, although they are mutual opposites, help each other is; or how the fixed stars radiate their light < insrnntly> in every
in the lifting of the iron. di rection over such an enormous distance. In thi s book I have deduced
the causes - which I beli eve to be quite evide nt-of these and many other
(304) 174 . Why the rotatio11 of an iron whee/ is 1101 hindered by the magnet phenomena from principles which are known to all and admitted by all,
from which it is hung. namely tbe shape, size, pos ition and motion of particles of marter. And
anyone who considers all this will readily be convinced that there arc no
(30 5) 175. How and why the power of one magnet increases or decreases the powers in stones and plants that are so mysterious, and no marvels
power of a11other. attributed to sympathetic and antipathetic influences that arc so asto- 3 1 s
nishing, that they cannot be explained in rhis way . Jn short, there is
176. Why a magnet, however strong, cannot pull iron from a weaker
nothing in the whole of nature (nothing, char is, which should be referred
magnet if it is not toucbing the iron.
to purely corporea l causes, i.e. those devoid of tho ught and mind) which
(306) 1 77 . Why a weak magnet or iron can, if it touches a piece of iron, drag it is incapable of being deductively explain ed on t he basis of these selfsame
away from a stronger magnet. principles; and hence it is quite unnecessary to add any further principles
to the list.
i 78. Why in these northern regions the south pole of a magnet is
stronger than the north pole. c88. Wliat must be borrowed from /my proposed/ treatises on a11imals
and on man in order to complete 011r knowledge of material things.
(307) 179. What can be olJserved if iron filings are scattered round a magnet. l wou ld nor add anything further to this fourth part of the Principles of
Philosophy if, as 1 originally planned, I was going on to write two further
(309) I 80. Why an iron plate sticking to the /Joie o{ a magnet reduces its pans - a fifth part on living things, i.e. animals and plants, and a sixth
power of attracting or turning il'on. part on man. But l am 1101 yet completely d ear about all the matters
which I would like to deal with there, and I do not know whether J shall
(3 10) 18i. Wh3 this power is not reduced when any other body is interposed.
ever have enough free time ro complete these sections. So, to avoid
r 82. Why tbe u11s11itable position of a magnet gradually dimi11isbes its delaying the publication of the fi rst four pans any longer, and to make
strength. sure there are no gaps caused by my keeping material back for the two
final pans, I shall here add a few observatio ns concerning the objects of
183 . Why rust, humiditya11d damp diminish its strength, and a vigorous the senses. Up till now l have described this eanh and indeed the whole
fire completely destroys it. visib le un iverse as if it were a machine: I have considered on ly the various
shapes and movements of its parts . But our senses show us much else
(JH) 184. The force of attraction i11 amber, wax, resin and similar things. besides - namely colours, sme lls, sounds and such-like; and if I were to
say nothing about t hese it might be thought that I had left out the most
(3 1 2) 1 8 5. The cause of this attraction in glass. important part of the exp lanation of rhe things in nature.
(3 13) J 86. Tbe same cause can be observed in other cases too.
t89. What sensation is and how it operates.
('l 4) 187. From what has bee11 said we ca11 wulerstand the possible causes of It must be real ized t hat the human soul, while informing' the entire body,
all tbe other remarkable effects which are usually attributed to nevertheless has its principal seat in the brain; it is here alone that the
occult qualities.
. .. Consider how amazing are rhe properties of magnets and of fire, and t Lat. i'1fv rmare. Descartes occasionnlly employs this srnndard scholasric term, though o(
comM: lw rcj<."'CIS the Aristorelian ~tccomn or rhe soul as rhe 'form' o( rhe body. The
how differen t they are from the properties we commonly observe in other fr('11ch vc~io11 hnl'J sirn1>ly 'wluk being united ro the tntirc body'.
Pri11cip/es of Philosophy Part Four

soul not o nly understands and imagines but also has sensory awareness. the heart to expand, and this in turn produces the movement in the tiny
Sensory awnreness comes about by means of nerves, which stretch like nerves of the heart which muse re~uh in 1he feeling of joy. In the same
threads from the brain to all the limbs, and are joined together in such a way, when we hear good news, it is first of all the mind which makes a
316 way that hardly any part of tbc human body can be touched without judgement about it and rejoices with chat intellectual jO)' which occurs
producing movement in several ofthe nerve-ends that arescaneredaround without any bodily disturbance and wbich, for that reason, the Stoics
in rhat area. This movement is then tra nsmirted to the other ends of the allowed that the man of wisdom could experience <although they
nerves which are all grouped together in the brain around the seat of the required him to be free of all passion>. Bue later on, when the good news
soul, as I explained very fuUy in Chapter Four of the Optics.' The result is pictured in the imagination, the spirits flow from the brain to the
of these movements being set up in the brain by the nerves is that the soul muscles around the heart and move the tiny nerves there, thereby causing
or mind t hat is closely joined to the brain is affected in various ways, a movement 111 the brain which produces in che mind a feeling of animal
corresponding to the various different sorts of movements. And the joy. O r aga111, if the blood is too thick and flows sluggishly into the
various different states of mind, or thoughts, which are the immediate ventricles of the hea rt and does not expand enough inside it, it produces a
result of these movements are called scn~Or)' perceptions, or in ordinary different movement in the same small nerves around the heart; when this
speech, sensations. movement is transmitted to the brain it produces a feeling of sadness in
the mind, although the mind irself may perhaps not know of any reason
190. Vario11s kinds of se11sation. First, internal sensations, i.e. emotional why it should be sad. And there are se,eral other causes capable of
states of the mi11d a11d nawral appetites. producing the same feeling <by setting up the same kind of movement in
The wide va riety in sensations is a result, firstly, of differences in che these nerves .> Other movements in these tiny nerves produce different
nerves themselves, and second ly of differences in the sorts of motion emotions such as love, hatred, fear, anger and so on; I am here thi nking
which occur in par1icular nerves. It is nor that each individual nerve of t hese simpl y as emotions or passions of the soul, chat is, as confused
produces a particula r kind of semation; in deed, 1here are o nly seven thoughts, wh ich the mind docs not derive from itself alone but expcri
principal groups of nerves, of which two have to do with internal cnces as a resu lt of something happeni ng rn the body with which iris
sensation s and live with extern al sensations. The ner ves which go co the close ly conjoi ned. Th ese emotions are quite different in kind from the
stomach, oesophagus, throat, and oth er in ternal parts whose function is distinct thoughts which we have concerning what is to be embraced or
to keep our natura l wants supp lied, produce one kind of internal desired m shun ned. The same applies co the natural appetites such as
sensation, which is cal led 'natural appetite' <e.g. hunger and rhirst>. hunger a nd thirst which depc11d on chc nerves of the stomach, throa t and 318
The nerves which go to the bea n and the surrounding area < including so fo rrh: they arc com pletel y different from che volition to eat, d rink and
the diaphragm>, despite their very ~mall size, produce another kind of so on. But, because they are frequently accompanied b y such volition or
internal sensation which comprises all the disturbances or passions and appcririon, they arc called appetites.
emotions of the mind such as joy, sorrow, love, hate and so on. For
example, when the blood has the right consistency so that it expands in 19 1. Tl1e extemal se11ses. First, t/Je se11se of to11ch.
the heart more readily than usual, 1c relaxes the nerves scattered around As far as the external senses are concerned, five are commonly listed
317 the openings, and sets up a movement which leads ro a subsequent corresponding to the five kinds of objects stimulating the sensory nerves,
mo,emenc in rhc brain producing a natural feeling of joy in the mi nd; and t he five kinds of confused thoughts which the resulting motions
and other causes produce the same sort of movement in these tiny nerves, produce in the soul. First of all there are the nerves terminating in the
thereby giv111g the same feeling of JOY- Thus, if we imagi ne ourselves skm all over the bod y.' These ner"es may be touched, via the skin, by
enjoying some good, the act of imagination does not itself contain the v:iriou~ external bodies; and these bodies, though remaining intact,
feehng of jO)', but it causes rhe spiritsl co travel from the brain 10 the \timu lace the nerves in various different ways - in one way by their
muscles in which these nerves are embedded. This causes the openings of h.irdness, in another W3)' by their heaviness, in another way by their hear,

1 Optics. abovt pp. 16.. ff: Cf. fre._JtlM Off Man. ~100,c pp. 1ooff; P.usions, Mlow 1 'fir,, dxrr ''the: \.C'"n~ or tolkh, ~hkh has as its obiect all the bodtcs which cm mon
pp. HOff. ""'"'<" p~rt of 1hr f1c,h or 'kin ol our bod)'. a"d has as its org:m all the rler.cs wh1d1 art
.z. I.e. rhc ~JllcJ ';an1nu l 'PHH\ 0
; ( 'f, P.uuous, below. pp. Hoff. fouuc;l m du\ p.in (If rht hody ianJ mo'c \\'ith it' tfrtnch \'ersion).
Principles of Philosophy Part Fo11r

in another way by rheir humidity, and so on. Corresponding to the the sensations of different sounds arise from the various different
different ways in which the nerves are moved, or have their normal movements in these bones.
motion checked, various different sensations are produced in the mind;
and chis is how the various tacti le qualities gee rheir names. <We call these r95. Sight
quali cies hardness, heaviness, heat, humkli ty and so on, but all that is Finally, there are theopric nerves <which are the o rgans of rhe most subtle
meanc by these terms is that tbe externa l bodies possess what is requ ired of all the senses, that of sight>. The extremities of th ese nerves, wh ich
ro bring ir about that our nerves excite in the soul the sens ations of make up the coating inside the eye called rhe retina, are moved not by air
hardness, heaviness, hear etc.> . Moreover, when che nerves are stimulated or any external bodies entering the eye, but simply by globules of the
with unusual force, bu r withour any damage being occasioned to the second element <which pass through the pores and all the fluids and
body, a pleasurable sensarion arises < which is a confused rhought in the rransparenc membranes of the eye>. This is the origin of the sensations of
soul and> which is narnrally agreeable to the mind because ir is a sign of light and colours, as l bave already explained adequately in cbe Optics
robust health in the body with which it is closely conjoined <in so for as ir and Meteorology.'
can undergo the action ca using the pleasure without being damaged>. But
if there is some bodily damage, there is a sensarion of pa in < in the soul, 196. The soul has sensory awareness 011/y in so far as it is in
even though rhe action causi ng the pain may be on ly marginally more the braiii.
forceful > . This explains why bodily pleasure and pain arise from such There is clear proof that the soul's sensory awareness, via the nerves, of
very similar objects, although the sensations are complerely opposite. what happens to rhe individual limbs of the body does nor come about in
vi rtue of the sou l's presence in the individual limbs, but simply in virtue
r92. Taste. of its presence in the brain <or because the nerves by their 11\0tions
Then rhere <is the least subtle sense after that of touch, namely caste. Jes tra nsmit to it the actions of external objects which touch the pares of the
organs> are other nerves scattered through the tongue and neighbouring body where the nerves are embedded>. Firstly, there are various diseases
areas. The same external bodies, chis ti me split up into parricles and which affect only rbe brai n but remove or interfere with all sensation.
floating in the saliva from the mouth, srimulare these nerves in various Again, sleep occurs only i1\ the brain, yet every day it deprives us of a
ways correspondi ng to rheir many different shapes <sizes or great part of our sensory faculties, though rhese are afterwards restored
movements>, and thus produce the sensations of various casres. on waki ng. Next, when the brain is undamaged, if there is an obstruction
in rb e paths by which rhe nerves reach the brain from the external li mbs, 320
r93 . Smell. this alone is enough t<> destroy sensation in those limbs. Lastl y, we
Thirdly, there <is the sense of smell. Its organs> are two ocher nerves (or sometimes feel pa in in certain li mbs even though there is nothi ng ro cause
appendages to the brain, since rhey do nor go outs id e the skull) which are pain in the lim bs themselves; the cause of the pain lies in the other areas
319 stimulated by separate particles of the same bodies that Aoat in the air. through which the nerves travel in their journey from the limbs co the
The particles in question cannot be of any kind whatsoever: the)' musr be brain. This last point can be proved by countless observarions, but it will
sufficiently light and energetic to be drawn into the nostrils and through suffice to mentio n one here. A girl with a seriously infected hand used to
the pores of the so-called spongy bone, thus reaching the two nerves. The have her eyes bandaged whenever the surgeon l'isited her, co prevent her
various movements of the nerves produce the sensations of various being upset by rhe surgical instruments. After a few days her arm was
smells. amputated at the elbow because of a creeping gangrene, and wads of
bandages were put in its place so that she was quire unaware that she had
r94. Hearing. los t her arm. However she continued ro complain of pains, now in one
Fourthly, there < is hearing, whose object is simply various vibrations in then in anorher finger of the amputated haod. The only possible reason
the ear. For there> are two ocher nerves, found in the inmost chambers of for this is that the nerves whi ch used ro go from the brain down to rhc
the ears, which receive tremors and vibrati()ns from the whole body of hand now terminated in th e arm near the elbow, and were being agitated
surrounding air. When rhe air strikes the tympanic membrane ir produces
a disturbance in the lirrle chai n of three sma ll bones attached ro it; and ' Cf. Optics. nbove pp. 67ff.
Principles of Philosophy Part Four

by the same sortS of mocion as muse previously have been sec up in the blow reaches the retina, this will cause him to see many sparks of flashing
hand, so as co produce in rhe soul, residing in che brain, the sensation of light, yet the light is not outside his eye. And if someone puts a finger in
pain in this or tbac 6nger. <And rhis shows clearly that pain in the hand his ear he will hear a rh robbrng hum which comes simply from the
is felt by che soul not because ir is present in the hand but because it is mo"emenr of air crapped in the ear. Finally, let us consider hea1 and other
present in the brain.> qualities perceived by 1he senses, in so far as 1hose qualities arc in objects,
as well as rhe forms of purely material things, for example the form o f
t97. Tile 1tature of the mind is such tbat various sensations ca11 be lire: we often sec th ese arising from th e local motion of certain bod ies
produced itt it simply by m otions in t/Je body. and producing in Cli m other local motions in other bodies. Now we
lt can ;1lso be proved that the nature of ou t mind is such that the mere undc rs cand very well how the different size, sh ape and motion of the
occurrence of certain motions in the body ca n stimulate it co have all particles of one body can produce various local motions in another body.
manner of thoughts which have no likeness to the movements in But there is no way of undersrn nding how these same attributes (s ize,
question. ]bis is especially true of rh e confused rhoughcs we call shape and motion ) can produce somethin g else whose nature is quire
sensaiions or feelings. Fo r we see that spoken or written words excite all di fferent from thei r own - like the substantial forms and real qualities
sorts of thoughts and emotions in our minds. With the same paper, pen wh ich many <philosophers> ~uppose to inhere in things; and we cannot
3:t1 and ink, if the tip of the pen is pushed across the paper in a certai n way it understand how these qualities or forms could have the power subse-
will form letters which excite in the mmd of the reader thoughts of quently co produce loca l motions in ocher bodies. Not only is all chis
ban lcs, storms and violence, and cmouons of indignation and sorrow; uni ntelligible, but we know chat the nature of our soul is such that
but if the movemcntS of che pen are just slightly different they will different local motions are quite sufficient to produce all rhe sensations in
produce quite diHerenr thoughts of tranquillity, peace and pleasure, and the sou l. What is more, we actually experience che various sensations as
quite opposite emotions of love and jO)'. Ir may be objected 1ha1 speech or they are produced in the soul, and we do not find that anything reaches
writing does not immediately excite in the mind any emotions, or images the brain from the external sense organs except for motions of this kind.
of things apart from the words themselves; it merely occasions various In view of all this we have every reason to conclude that the properties in
aces of understanding which afterwards resu lt in the soul's constructing externa l objects to whi ch we apply the terms light, colour, smell, caste,
with in itself the images of various thin gs. Bur what then will be said of sound, heat and cold -as well as rhe ocher tacti le qualities and even wlrnt
the sensa tions of pain and pleasure? A sword strikes our body and cuts it; arc called 'subsrantial forms' - arc, so fa r as we can see, simply va rious 32.3
bu t the ensui ng pain is completely different from the local morion of rhe dispositions in those objects' which make them able to set up vnrio us
sword or of the body that is cut- as different as colour or soun d or smell ki nds of motions in our nerves <which are requ ired to produce all the
or taste. We clearly see, then, chat the sensation of pain is excited in us various sensations in our soul>.
merely by the local morion of some parts of our body in contact wirb
another body; so we may conclude that rhc nature of our mind is such r 99. '/1Jere is 110 pbenomeno11of11at11re wbic'1 bas beett Ol'lerlooked i11
that 11 can be subjccr ro all che ocher sensations merely as a result of ocher this treatise.
local motions. A simple enumeration will make it clear that chcrc is no phenomenon of
nature which I have omirted 10 consider in chis treatise. For a list of
198. By meatrs of our senses we apprehend nothing in extemal obiects natura l phenomcM cannot include anything which is not apprehended
beyond their shapes, sizes and motions. by the senses. Now I have given an account of the various sizes, shapes
Moreover, we observe no differences between the various nerves which and motions which arc to be found in all bodies; and apart from chese the
would support the view that different nerves al low different ch ings to be only things which we perce ive by our senses as being located outside us
trnnsmitted to the brain from rhe extern al sense organs; indeed, we arc arc light, colo ur, smell, tosce, sound and tactile q ualities. And I have just
no1 cmitlcd to say th at anything reaches the brain except for rh e local demonstrated that these arc noth ing else in the objects - or at least we
111oticrn of 1he nerves themselves. And we see that this local motion can nor apprehend them :is being anything el se - but certain dispositions
p1 oduccs not only sensations of pain and plcasme bur also those of light depending 0 11 size, shope ond motion. <So the entire visible world, in so
1 l1 .111cl ,otmd. If someone is struck in the eye, ~o that the vibration of 1he 1 ', .. m 1hc '>li :ip~. 1>i1c~. pm11ion, .rnJ lllO\'ffllCllt"' of th(ir pans' (French veNi01\).
Principles of Philosophy Part Four

far as it is simply visible o r perceivable by the senses, contains nothing th rough our senses. For our nerves, which must be sec in motio n by
a part from the things I have given an account of here.> objects in order ro produce a sensation, are not th emselves very minute,
but are like small cords made up of many sma ller particles; hence the)'
200. f have used no principles in this treatise which arc not accepted by cannot be set in motion by very minute bodies. No o ne who uses hi s
everyone; this philosophy is nothing new but is extremely old and reason will , I think , deny cbe advantage of using what happens in l:i rgc
very common. bodies, as perceived by o ur senses, as a mode l for o ur id eas about whar
I shoul d also like it ro be noted that in attempting to explain th e general happens in tiny bodies which elude o ur senses merely beca use of their
na1ure of materi al things l ha,e not employed any principle which was small size. This is much better t han explaining matters by inventing all
not acce pted by Aristotle and all o rher pltilosophers of every age. So this sorts of strange objects which have no re~embl ance to what is perceived 325
philosophy is not new, but the oldest a nd most common of all. I have by the senses <such as ' prime matter', 'substa nti al forms' and the whole
considered the shapes, mo tions and sizes of bodies and examined the range of qualities that people habitually introduce, alJ of which arc
necessa ry results of their mutual in teraction in accordance with the laws harder to understand than t he things they are supposed to explain> .
of mecha nics, which are confirmed by reliable everyday exper ience. And
who has ever doubted that bod ies move and have va rious sizes and 2 02 . The philosophy of Democritus differs from my ow11 just as much as
shapes, and that their vario us different motions correspond to these it does from the standard view <of Aristotle and others>.
di fferences in size and shape; or who doubts that when bodies collide It is true rhat Democritus also imagined ce rta in small bodies having
bigger bodies are divided into many smaller ones and change their various sizes, shapes and motions, and supposed chat all bodies thar can
shapes? We detect these facts not just with o ne sense but severa l - sight, be perceived by the senses arose from t he conglomeration and mutual
touch and hearing; and they can also be distinctly imagined and interaction of these corpuscl es; and yet his method of philosophizing
J 24 understood by us. But 1he same cannot be sa id of the other characteristics generally meets with total rejection . Th is rejection, however, has never
like colour, sound and the rest, each of which is perceived nor by several been based o n the fact that his philosophy deals with certain particles so
senses bur by one alone; for the images of them which we have in our minute as to elude che senses, and assigns various sizes, shapes and
th ought are always confused, and we do nor know what they rea lly arc. motions to them; for no o ne cao doubr that there are in fact many such
particles, as I have just shown . The reasons for the rejection are the
201. There are corporeal />articles which cannot be perceived by the following. First, Democritus supposed his corpuscles to be indi visible - a
senses. notion which leads me to join those who reject his pbilosophy. Secondly,
I do consider, however, chat ch ere are many particles in each body which he imagined there to be a \<acuum around the corpuscles, whereas J
are <so small that t hey are> not perceived with all)' of our senses; and this demonstrate the impossibility of a vacuum. Thirdly, he attributed gravity
may not meet with the approval of those who take their own senses as the to rhese co rpuscles, whereas Ill)' understanding is ch at there is no such
measure of what can be known. <But to desire that ou r human reasoning th ing as gravity in any body taken on its own, but that it ex ists only as a
should go no further than what we can see is, I think, co do ic a great function of, and in relation ro, the position and motion of o ther bodies. 1
injustice.> Yer who can doubt tha t there are many bodies so rninute that And lascly, Democritus did not show how particular things arose merely
we do not detect them by any of our senses? One simply has ro consider fro m the interaction of corpu scles; or, if he did show this in some cases,
something which is slowly growing or sh rinking and ask what ic is that is his explanations were nor entirely cons istent, if we may judge from chose
being added or taken away hour by hour. J\ tree grows day by day; and it of his opinions whi ch have survived. I leave others ro judge whether my
is unintelligible to suppose that it gets bigger than it was before unless we own writings o n philosophy have up to now been reasonably consistent
understand there to be some bod y which is added to it. But who has ever <and sufficiently fertile in the results that can be deduced from chem. As
detected with the senses the minute bodies that are added co a growing for th e consideration of shapes, sizes and motions, this is something t hat
tree in one day? It must be admitted, atleast by those <ph ilosophers> who has been adopted nor o nly by Democritus but also by Aristotle and all rhe
accept that quantity is indefinitely divisible, that its pan s could be made o ther philosophers. Now I (eject all of Democritus' suppositions, wirh
so tiny as to be impercept ible by any of rhe senses. And it certainly shou ld
not be surprising chat we are unable to perceive very minute bodies I Sec abovt", r~rc !, <!rt. 20; Pan h ;Ut. :to-3.
2.88 Principles of Philosophy Part Four

this one exception, and l :ilso rejecc practically all the suppositio ns of experienced in dealmg with machinery can cake a particular machine
the other philosophers. Hence it is clear that my method of philosophiz- whose function they know and, by looking at some of its pan s, easily
ing has no more affinity with the Democrite:in method than with any of form a conjecture about the design of the ocher pans, which they cannot
the other particul ar seers>. see. In the sa1Tie way J have attempted to consider the obse rvab le effects
and pan s of natural bodies and track down t he imperceptible causes and
zo 3. How we may arrive at knowledge of the shapes < sizes> and parricles wh ich prod uce them.
motions of pa,.ticles that cannot be perceived by the senses.
In view of the fact that I assign determinare shapes, sizes, and motions to 1.04. With regard to the things which cannot be perceived by the senses, it 32.7
3z6 the imperceptible particles of bodies just as if l had seen chem, but is c11011gh to explai11 their possible nature, even though their actital
nonetheless maintain that they can no t be pcrcci1cd, some people may be nature may be differe11t <and this is all that Aristotle tried to do> .
led to ask how I know what these particles are like. My reply is th is. First However, although this method may enable us to understand how all the
of all <l considered in general all the dear and d1:.tinct norions which o ur rhings in nature could have arisen, it should not therefore be inferred that
undcrsrnnding can conra in with regard to material things. And l found chey were in fact made in th is way. Just as the same crn f1sman could
no o thers except for rbe no tions we have of shapes, sizes and motio ns, make two clocks which tell the ti me equally we ll and loo k complecely
and the rnlcs in accordance w ith which these three thin gs can be modified alike from th e outside bur have complerely di fferent assemblies of wheels
by e;1ch o ther - ru les which are the principles of geometry and mecha inside, so rbe supreme craftsman of the real world could have produced
nics. And l judged as a resnlr that all the know ledge which men ha ve of all thac we see in sever al different ways. I am very happy to admit this;
the natural world must necessarily be derived from these notions; for all and l shal l thin k I have achieved enough provided only that what l have
the o ther notions we have of things that can be perceived by the senses written is such as to correspond accuratelr with all the phenomena of
are con fused and obscure, and so cannot serve to give us knowledge of narure. This will indeed be sufficient for application in ordinary life, since
anything outside ourselves, bur may even stand in the way of ~uch medicine and mechanics, and all the other arts which can be fully
knowledge. Next> J rook the simplest and best known principles, developed w ith the help of physics, are directed o nly towards items that
knowledge of wh ich is naturally implanted in our minds ; and working can be perceived by rhe senses and are rherefore to be co unted a mong the
from these I considered, in genera l terms, fi m ly, whnt are the principal pheno me11a of nature.' And in case anyone happens co be convinced that
differences which can exist between rhe sizes, shapes and posirions of Aristotle achieved - or wanted to achieve - any more than this, he
bodies which are imperceptible by the senses merely because of thei1 himself expressly asserts in che first book of the Meteorologica, at the
small size, and, secondly, what observable effects would result from their beginning of Chapter Seven, that when deali ng with things not manifest
various interactions. Later on, when I observed just such effects in objects to the senses, he reckons he has pro' idcd adequate reasons and demon
that can be perceived by the senses, l judged that the> in face arose from stracions ii he can simply show that such things arc capable of occurring
JUSt such an interact ion of bodies that cannot he percci\ed - especially in accordance wirh his explanations.
since it seemed impossible to th ink up any other explanation for them. In
this matrer I was greatly helped br considering artefacts. For I do 1101 1.0 5.Nevertlieless my explanario11s appear 10 be at least m orally certai11 2
recognize any d ifference between artefacts and nacurol bodies except that It wou ld be disingenuous, however, not to point out chat some things are
rhe operations of artcfo ccs arc for the most porr performed by mechan - cons idered as morally certuin, that is, as havi ng sufficient ccrrn incy for
isms wh ich are large enough to be easily perceivable by the senses - as
indeed must be the case if they are ro be capable of being manufactured r .. , :art directed sjmply towards apply1n~ certain observable bod1u to c:ach other m such
by human beings. The effects produced in nature, by contrast, almost .i '-""'> th:u cen-ain ob~n.oblc d fecc' arc pmc:h.1ccd as n result of natural conues. And by
1ma@.in1ng wh;n the ,arious caURS art, and cons:denng. ch~t rfSultto, we \h31l :achieve our
always depend on stmctures which arc so minute that they completel}'
.11m urespt\.tl\e C>f whe:her these 1mJ.SH':cd causes arc: true or false. s1~cc the rt'.!Julr is
elude our senses. l\loreover, mech anics is a division or special case t.ikcn co be no d1fftrtnt~ a.s far as the olh.erublt dfects are- conettned' (I rirnch ,c:rsion).
of ph~-sics, and all the explanations belonging to the former al so l. By 'moral 1.crtttinty' tS mt:am CtMllnt)' sufficient for ordinary practical purposes. s~ first

belong to the latter; so it is no less narurnl for a clock constructed with ;.enttlkC o( 1 hi ~ :trrid e. whert tlw Fr~11 t"h Hr\100 rans: ' . . . moral ctrainty is ctru.inty
wlmh 1' \tilflc.wnl co regulate our l'ch;i\'IOUr. or which mea~ure~ up to the Ctrtai nt}' we
this or thar set of wheels to tell the time thnn it is for :1 rrce which grew luvc un nl.llll'r' rtbting i-o the 1..--omh1-.. 1 of lifr whi<:h we ucvcr nornMlly dm1br, though
fro m this or that :.c(d to 1m1cl ucc the app ropri:llc fruit. Men who arc we knuw 1h.t1 11 1s po..,i,iblc..th~nlull'I)' 11pc.1k111r,, th:H the)' .n:ly he fobc'.
Principles of Philosophy Part Four

application to ordi narr life, even though they may be uncertain in senso ry awarcncs~ of external obj ects unless these objects produce some
relation to the absolute power of God. <Thus those who have never been local mot ion in our nerves; and that the fixed stars, ow in g to th eir
in Rome have no doubt that it is a town in Italy, even though it cou ld be eno rm ous dista nce from us, cannot produce such mori on unless there is
the case that everyone who has told them this has been deceiving them.> also some morion occurrinB both in them and also rhroughout the entire
Suppose for example that someone wa nts to read a letter written in Latin intervening pan of the heavens. 1 Once this is accepred, then ir seems that
but encoded so that the letters of the alphabet do not ha,e their proper all the ocher phenomena, or at least the general features of the universe
3 !8 value, and he guesses that the letter B should be read whenever A and the earth which I have described, can hardly be intelligibly explained
appears, and C when 8 appears, i.e. that each letter should be replaced by exccpr in the way I have suggested.
the one immediately following ir. If, by using this key, he can make up
Latin words from th e letters, he will be in no doubt rhat the true meaning 207. I submit all my views to the au thority of the Church.
of rhc lcrrer is conraincd in these words. It 1s t rue that his knowledge is Nevertheless, mmdful of Jn)' own weakness, I make no firm pronounce
based merely on a conjecture, and it is conceivable that the writer did nor ments, but submi t all these opinions co the authority of the Catholic
replace the original letter~ with their immediate successors in the Church and the judgement of those wiser than myself. And I would nor
alphabet , but with others, thus encoding quite a different message; but wish anyone to believe anything except what he is convinced of by
this possib1 li1r is ~o unlikely <cspecinlly if the message contains many evident and irrefutable reasoning.
words> that ir does not seem credible. Now if people look at all the many
properties relating ro magncrbm, fire and the fabric of the enrire world, TllE END
which l have deduced in this book from just a few principles, then, even if ' ... from which it follows very nidently thott the heavens mu.st Ix fiuid, l.t". c;ompost.'<1 or
they th ink that my assumption of these princip les was arbitrary and small p3rtidcs which mo\.'t sep:uarcly from each other, or :u least rhat rhey musr conrnin
groundless, rhey will still perhaps acknowledge that it wo uld hardly have such parridc), For whatever I can be said to have assumed io Parr 3, an. 46 an be
rcdu('cd to the sole ttssertion th :at the hea\'tns are fluid' (added in Frtnch version).
been possib le for so many itellls co fir into a coherent patrern if the
origi nal principles had been false.

2.06. Indeed, my expla11atio11s {Jossess m ore than m oral cert.ainty.


Besides, tbere are some matters, even in relation to rhc things in nature,
which we regard as absolute ly, and mo re than just morally, ccna in .
<A bsolu te certai nty arises when we be lieve that it is wholly impossible
that so mething should be otherw ise than we judge it to be.> Th is certainty
is based on a metaphysical founda tion, namely that God is supremely
good and in no way a deceiver, and hence that tbc facuky which he gave
us for distingu ishing truth from fa lsehood cannot lead us into error, so
long as we arc using it properly and are thereby perceiving somethi ng
disrinctly. Mathematical demonstrations have this kind of certain!), 1 as
docs the knowledge rhat marcrial things exist; an d the same goes for all
evi dent reasoning about material things. And perhaps e"en these resulr:s
of mine will be allowed into the class of absolute certainties, if people
consider how they have been deduced in an unbroken chain from chc first
and simpl~t principles of human knowledge. Their certainty will be
319 espcciallr appreciated 1( it is proper!> understood char we can have no
1 ... for wt Ste d<";arly rlu1 u 1s 1mpcJ1b~ 1ha1 t\\O and r.hctt add~d rogtther .should
makt mort or lc~s rhan 6vt: or th;n .a ((JU.Uc s1'to.11d han: only 1hree sides, and so on
(:td<kd m frt'nch Hl"10f1l.
Comments on a Certain Broadsheet

Translator's preface

Descartes' Comments on a Certain Broadsheet (Notae in Programma


quoddam) was written in Latin and published by the house of Elzevir at
Amsterdam eady in r648. The work was Descartes' response to a
broadsheet published anonymously by Henri de Roy (HenriCLJs Regius,
1598-1679) towards t he end of 1647. Regius was Professor of Medicine
at the University of Utrecht, and an enthusiastic supporter of Descartes'
physics. His teaching of Descartes' doctrines was ''igorously opposed by
the Rector of the University, Gisbert Voer (Voerius), who attempted to
have Rcgius removed from his Chair.
For se1'eral years Regius enj oyed an amicable pupil-master relationship
with Descartes, who apparently had a high regard for bis intellect. The
friendship between the two men, however, deteriorated after the publica
tion of Regius' Foundations of Physics in 1646. The first half of Regius'
work deals with physics, along lines very similar to th ose of Descartes'
Principles of Philosophy (r644}; the second half, which deals with
physiology, among ocher biological subjects, anticipates many of De
scartes' as yet unpublished ideas, to which Regius had access through
personal notes. Descartes complained that Regius had nor only borrowed
many of his ideas, but had also seriously distorted them. Rcgius,
moreover, disagreed not only with much of Descartes' metaphysics, bur
also with Descartes ' thesis that physics requires rati onally grounded
metaphysical foundations. Descartes dissociated himself from Regius in
his prefator y letter co the translator of the French edition of the Pri11ciples
of Philosophy (1647). 1 Regi us responded co Descartes ' repudiation of his
views by publishing a broadsheet, which lists, in the form of numbe red
th eses, the points of disagreement between them.
The first edition of the Comments, which was published without
Descartes' knowledge, contains an anonymous preface and a verse
encomium to Descartes; since Descartes disapproved of these, they have
not been included in the present translation, which follows the text in
volume V il! u of Adam and Tannery. 1 D.M.
1 Set above. p. 1 89.
1 Cf. General lncroductio n, J>. x aho,e.

291
Comments 011 11 Certain Broadsheet

should not be a sort of attribute cocxisting with extension in the same subject,
AT Vl!IB COMMENTS ON A CERT AJN BROADSHEET though the one attribute is not included in the concept of the 01her. For whatever
we can conceive of can ex ist. Now, ir is concejvab le cha1 d\e mind is som'-' Su(.'lt
3~1 published in Belgium towards the end of 1647, entitled 'An item; for none of these implies a co11t"1diction. Therefore it is possible thot the
account of the human mind, or rational soul, which explains mind is som~ such item.
what it is and what it can be' (3) Thus, those who assert that we clearly and distinctly conceive 1he human
mind as necessarily (or actually)' and really distinct from the body a rc mist'1kcn.
(4) In many passages in Holy Scripture, however, it is revealed chat the mind is
nothing but a substance or entity which is rtall y distinct from the body, is
acrually separable from it, and is capable o( existing on its own apart from the
A few <lays ago I received two pamphlets anacking me, the one openly body. So this fact, which some people may find doubtful by nature (if we '"c
and directly, the other covertly and indirectly. I am quite unconcerned seeking exact, as distinct from merely probable, truth and knowledge)1 is for us,
about the former;' I am even gratefu l to the author, for the resul t of his through its divine revelation in Scripture, now beyond doubt.
grotesque efforts is simply a heap of worthless quibbles and s landers (5) l11e facr thar we can have doubts about the existence of the body, but ne"er
which no one could bel.ieve - a result which bears witness to the fact chat about the existence of the mind, is no objection. For this just goes to show that, so
he was unable to !ind in my writings a nything which he could justly long as we ha"c doubts about the existence of the body, we cannot say that the
censure. T hus, in criticizing my writings he h as confirmed their truth mind is a mode of the body.
mo re effccrively than he would have done by praising them - and all at (6) l11e human mind is a subsrance really distinct from the body; nevcrthckss, so 344
the expense of his own reputation. The other work contains nothing that long as it is in the body, it is organic in all its actions. Thus, as the disposition of
the body varies, so the mind has different thoughts.
34:1. openly refers to me; it is pub lished anonymously, and without the
(7) Since the mind is by nature difierent from the body a1td from the disposition
name of the printer. 2 Nevcrth lcss, it troubles me more, for it expresses of the body, and cannot arise lron1 this disposition, it is incorruptible.
opinions which I judge co be positively ha rmful and mistaken. It is issued (8) Since, in our conception of it, the mind has no pares or any extension, it is
in the form of a broadsheer which can be fixed to church doors, and may pointless asking whetfier it exists as a whole in the whole body, or as a whole in
thus strike the eye of any chance reader. It is said, moreover, that in an the individual parts of the body.
earlier printing of th e sheet, in a slightly different format, a certain (9) The mind can be affected by imaginary things jus t as much '1S by real things;
individual was named as the author - one who is regarded by many as hence, i( we are seeking not merely probable, but precise and exact knowledge of
propounding doctrines identical to my own. I am forced, therefore, to teality,3 it is by nature doubtful whether any bodies arc really perceived by us.
expose his errors, so that they w ill nm be attributed to me by chose who Nevertheless, the d_ivine revelation of Scripture rem.oves even this doubr, and
come across these papers without having read my own writings. shows it to be indubitable that God created heaven and earth and e"erythi ng in
The following is the broads heet in its latest form. them, and k<'<:ps them in existence even now.
(10) T he bond which keeps the soul conjoined with th e body is the law of the
im_mutabil ity of nature, according ro wh ich everyth ing remains in its present state
AN ACCOUNT OF THE HUMAN M I ND, OR RATIONAL SOUL, so long as ir is not disturbed by anything else.
\VH I CH (XPLAJNS WHAT IT JS AND W HA T IT CAN 8e ( 11) Since the mind is a substance which is newly created in the process of
generation, the correct view seems to be that the rational soul is brought into 345
( 1) TI1c hu rnan mind is that by means of which man immediately performs acrs ~xistence by God during this process, thro ugh an immediate act of creation.
of thinking. It consists solely in the faculty, or inner principle, of thinking. ( 12.) The mind has no need of ideas, or notions, or axioms which are innate: its
(2) So far as the nature of th ings is concerned, the possibility seems to be open facuJty of thinking is a ll it needs for pe rforming its own acts.
that the mind can be either a substance or a mode of a corporeal substance. Or, if (13 ) Thus all common nocions which are engraved in the mind have their o rigin
wc are to follow some ph ilosophers, who hold that extension and thought arc in observation of things or in verbal instruction.
J4 J :utrilmtcs which arc pre-sent in certain substances, as in subjects, lhen since these
.uuib111cs are nm opposites bm mere)y different, there is no reason w hy the mind
1 The phrase in brackets is concaincd as a foo111u1~ to the first edition of rhe Comme111s
1 Cmt.,ufrrcr/fo Theolog1c11, Jacques de Rives (Jacobus Rc\iu.s}, 1648. ( 1648) .
.z. 1ht h1<Mthhc<'I published anonymously hr Henri de Roy (Rcgius). Sec TJ.Jnslacor's :z. Tht cl:euse in br;lckecs is contained as tt footno1e 10 che 6rsr edition of the Comments.
p1d.1n. ) Th<" clause:, 'if we arc ... reality', is contained in a footnote to rhe flro;r cdirio11.
2.94
Co111111c11ts 011 a Certain Broadsheet Co111111ents on a Certain Broadsheet 297

( 14) Even th~ idea of God which is 1mplmued in the mind has its origin either in In chc seco11d article he begins by asking wbat cbc genus of the rnrional
d1vmc revelation, or 111 verbal instruction, or in observation of things. soul 1s, and says "The nature of things seems to leave open the possibility
(1 S) Our conccp1of God, or the idea ol God which 1s present in our mind does rhar rhe human min d is either a substance or a mode of a corporeal
not !n frsclf conslitu1c a very strong argument for proving the existence ol God, subsia nce.'
fo'. it 1s not the. case that everything of which we have an explicit conception TI1is asserrion involves a contradiction, just as much as if he had said
~x1sts; and the idea of God, m >0 far as we have such a conception (and an 'The n:uure of things leaves open the possibility chat a mounrain exi~1~
1mpcrfea one at that), no more transcends our characteristic powers of thinking either with or without a valley.' We must of course distinguish between
than the concept of any other thing "hatever. on the one hand things which by their ''ery nature are susceprible of
(t 6) The mind has two different \Oft> of thought: intellect aod \'Olirion.
(1 7) Intellect compristS pcrccpuon and judgement. change - such as the fact that at present I am writing or not writing as the
j4 6 ( t 8) Perception comprises S<'nse-percplion, memory, and imagination. case may be, or the fact tha1 one person is prudent, another imprudent -
(19) Sensc-pcrccpuon con~ms enurely m th perception of some cocporcal and on the ocher hand thin~ which never change, such as everything
motion, which requires no in1en11onal forrns: 1 it cakes place not in the external which belongs to the C5sencc of something (as philosophers generally
stnst organs, but an rhc brain alone. acknowledge). It can undoubtedly be s:ud of contingent items chat the 348
(10) The will is free and, 111 the case of natural things, is indifferent as between namrc of things leaves open the possibility chat they may be eirhcr in one
opposires - :ts we know from ou r own inner 3\'-'areness. stare or in a different state. for example, ar present I may be eirher
(11) The will is self-determining, and should no more be said co be blind than writing or not writing. But when it is a questio n of the essence of
vision should be sa id to be deaf. something, it would be quire foolish and self-contradicmry to say that 1he
'No one acquires a great rcpuiauon for piety more easilv than the superstitious n:iturc of things leaves open the possibility that the essence of something
or hypocri1ical pcrson.' 2
may have a different character from the one it acrually has. The
AN l\XAM J NA1' 10N 0~ 1'HF. BROADSl-JEF.1' impossibility of existi ng wi thout a valley is part of the naru re of a
mounmin; and it belongs just as much to the nature of the human mind
Com111e11ts on the title that it is whal it is, viz. that it is a substance (if it is a substance), or a
I notice that in the title we a re promised not just bald assertions about the mode of a co rporea l thing (if such it is). Our au thor tri es to convince us
347 rational soul, bur a n explanation of it. We must suppose, then, that the on this score, and to prove his point he adds the words, 'or if we are to
broadsheer contains all the arguments - or at any rate the main ones - fo llow some philowphers'. In cite expression ' some philosophers' he is
which. the author had, not only for proving, but also for explicating, his obviously referring to me, for I am tbe first to have regarded thought as
assemons, and that no other arguments are to be expected from him. I the princi11al a11ribute of an incorporeal substance, and extension as the
approve of his call ing the rational soul the 'human mind', for by using principal :utribute of a corporeal substa nce. 1 llut I did not say chat these
this expression he avoids rhe ambigu ity in the term 'soul', a11d he is attributes are present in the substances as in subjects distinct from them.
following me in this respect. \'(/e must take care here not to understand the word 'attribute' to mean
Co111111e11ts 011 the i11dividual articles simply 'mode', for we term an 'amibute' whatever we recogni1,c as being
In the first article his intention seems to be to provide a definition of the naturally ascribabl e to something, whether it be a mode which is
rational soul; bu1 his definition is imperfect, for he fails to specify its susceptible of change, or the absolutely immutable essence of the thing in
genus, i.e. to say whether it is a substance, or a mode, or something else. quesrion. Thus God has many attribu1es, but no modes. Again, one of the
He gives only the differentia, which he has raken from me, for as far as I attributes of any substance is its subsisting on its own. The extension of a
know, no one before me ha~ ~aced chat the rational soul consists solely in body, moreover, may take on various different modes: a body's being
chought, rhat is, in rhc facuhy of thinking or th e imernal principle by spherical ronsurutes one mode, being square a different mode. But
means of which we rhink. considered in itself, the extension itself - the subject of thtSe modes - is
not a mode of the corporeal ~ubsrance, but an attribute which constitutes 349
its narnrnl essence. Lastly there are various modes of thought, for
1 Ste foocnocc 1, p. Joi .lbo\t'.
2 QUOfcd from Ot\CJ.rtc\ J~'\111,:ator\ ltucr
0
to Pnn;.:t\S Eli2ati<1h 1n du~ Prmttplt~. Sec
:ibovc, p. 191. 1 { f. Prmnpt..s. Pnt 1, trc. s3: p. ;i 10 :lbovt.
Comnzent.s on a Certain Broadsheet Comments on a Certain Broadsheet

affirmation is a different mode of thiilking from denial, and so on. But Second, I wish at t his point co stress the difference between simp le
thought itself, as the interna l principle from which these modes spring enti ties and composite entities. A composite entity is one which is fou nd
and in wh ich they are present, is not conceived as a mode, but as an to have two o r more attributes, each one of which can be distinctly
attribute which constitutes the nature of a substance. Whether this understood apa rt from the other. For, in virrue of the fact chat o ne of
substance is corporeal or incorporeal is the q uestion at issue here. these attri butes can be distinctly understood apart from the other, we
He adds 'these attributes are not opposites, bm merely different'. know that the one is not a mode of the other, but is a thing, o r attribute
Again there is a contradiction in this sta tement. For, when the question of a thing, which can subsist without the other. A simple entity, o n the
concerns attributes which consciruce che essence of some substances, other ha nd, is one in which no such attribu tes are to be found. It is dear 351
the re can be no greater opposi tion berween them than the fact thac they from this that a subject w hich we understand to possess solely extension
are di fferent; and when he ack nowledges chat the o ne attribute is and the various modes of extension is a simple entity; so too is a subject
d ifferent from the o cher, th is is tanramount to say ing chat the one which we recognize as having thought and th e various modes of thought
attribute is noc the other; but ' is' and ' is not' are contraries. He says 'since as its sole attribute. Bur that which we regard as having at the same time
they are not opposites bur merely different, there is no reason why the both extension and thought is a composite enti ty, namely a man - an
mind shou ld no t be a sort of attribute co-exis ti ng with extension in tbe entity consisting of a sou l and a body. Our author seems here to have
same subject, d1 ough the one attribute is nor included in the concept of taken a man ro he simp ly a body, of which the ma n's mind is a mode.
the other'. ' There is a manifest contradiction in th is statement, for the Lastly, we should note that in subjects which are composed of several
author is taking something which can ho ld srricrly speaking only for substances, one such substance often sta nds out; an d we view this
modes and inferring that it holds for any attribu te whatsoever; but he substance in such a way that any of t he other su bstances wh ich we
nowhere proves that the mind, or the internal principle of thought, is associate with it are nothing bur modes of it. Thlls a man who is dressed
such a mode. On the contrary, I shall presently show that it is nor, on the can be regarded as a compound of a man and clothes. But with respect to
basis of wha t he actually says in article five. As for the attributes which the man, his being dressed is merely a mode, altho ugh clothes arc
3 50 constitute the natures of things , it cannot be said that those which are substances. In the same way, in the case of a man, who is composed of a
d ifferent, and such that the concept of the one is not contained in the soul and a body, our author might be regard ing the body as the principal
concept of the other, are presenr together in one and the same subject; for element , in relation to wh ich havi ng a soul or th e possession of 1hought is
that would be equivalent to saying that one and the same subject has two nothing but a mode. But it is absurd to in fer from this that the soul itself,
different natures - a statement that implies a contradiction, at least when or that in virtue of which t he body thinks, is not a substance d istinct from
it is a q uestion of a simple su bject (as in the present case) rather than a the body.
composite o ne. He endeavours to support his contentio n by me;tns of the following
Three points should be borne in mind here. If the author had properly syllogism: 'Whatever we can conceive of can exist. Now it is conceiv-
understood them, he would never have fa llen into such manifest errors. able that the mind is some s11ch item (viz. a suhsrance or a mode of a
First, it is part of the nature of a mode that, although we can readily corpo real substance); for none of these implies a contradiction . T here-
understand a substance apart from a mode, we cannot vice versa dearly fore .. .'.' We should note that even though the rule, 'Whatever we can
understand a mod e unless at the same time we have a conception of the conceive of can exist>,? is my own, it is true only so lo ng as we arc dealing 3 52
substance of which it is a mode (as I expl ained in the Principles, Part 1, with a conception which is dear and distinct, a conception which
article 6r). 2 All philosophers are agreed on this poin t. But it is clea r from embraces the possibiliry of the thing in q uestion, since God can bring
his fifth article that our author has paid no attention to this ru le, for he about whatever we clearly perceive to be possib le. Bur we o ught not to
admits t here chat we can ha ve do ubts abou r the exiscence of the body, use chis rule heedlessly, beca use it is eas y for someone ro imagi ne th at he
whereas we have no doubts about the existence of the mi nd. It follows properly understands someth ing when in fact he is blinded by S()me
from this chat we can understand the mind apart from tbe body; hence it preconception and docs nor understand it at all . This is just what
is nor a mode of the body. ha ppens when the author maintains char there is no co111 radict io n

1 Arr. 21 p. 194 :lb<.we. z. S t.'(' p. 2 1.1 :'ll>Ovc. 1 An . 2. , p. 194 :1bovc. 2 Cf. Med. v" vol. 11, p. 50.

..___ __
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involved in saying that one and the same thing possesses one or the other demonstrate them to the best of their ability by arguments which are
of two totally different natures, i.e. rhar it is a substance or a mode. If he grounded in human reason.' But I have never seen anyone who main-
had merely said that he could see no reason for regarding che human tained that the nature o( things does not exclude the possibility of
mind as an incorporeal substance, rather than a mode of a corporeal something's being in a different state from the one described in Holy
substance, we could have excused his ignorance. Moreover, if he had said Scripture, unless his intention was to show indirectly that he had no faith
that human intelligence cou ld find no reasons which might decisively in Scripture. For, since we were born men before we became Christians
settle the question one way or the other, his arrogance would indeed be we can not believe that anyone would seriously embrace opinions which
blnmeworrhy, but his sratemem would involve no obvious contradiction. he thinks contrary tO that right reason which conscirutes being a man,
Bur when he says that the nature of things lea ves open the possibility that simply in order to cling to the faith which makes him a Christian. But 35 4
rhe same thing is either a substance or :1 mo<.lc, 1 what he says is quite perhaps this is not what o ur aurhor is saying, for his words are: 'this fact,
self-contradictory, and shows how irrationa l bis mind is. wh ich some people may find do ubtful by natu re, is for us, through its
In the third arricle he pronounces judgement upon me. For it was I divine revelation in scripture, now beyond doubt'. 2 In this state111e111 I
who wrote that the human mind can be perceived clearly and distinctly find a double contradiction. The first one li es in his supposi tion that the
ns a substance which is distinct from a corporeal substance.2 Our amhor, essence of one and the same thing is, by nature, doubtful, and hence is
howe,cr, proclaims rhat I am mistaken, though the on ly arguments he subject ro change, for it is self-contradictory rhat the es.~ence of some-
has to support him are the ones expounded 1n the preceding article, and thing does not always remain the same - the supposition rhat ir changes
th~ invohc a contradiction. But I shall not ~pend further time on this. entails that the thing in question will be a different thing, and will require
Nor do I propose to examine tbe somewhat ambiguous phrase, 'neces a different name. The second contradiction lies in the words 'some
sarily (or actually)', for it is of no great importance. people', for, owing to the fact that nature is the same for everyone, what
353 I decline also to examine the views about Holy Scripture expressed in can be doubtful only for some is not by narure doubtful.
the fourth article, as I do not wish ro appear to be assuming rhe righ t to The fifth article should be related to the second rather than the fourth,
que~tion someone else's religion. I shall simply say that in this context for in it rhe author is not concerned with divine revelation, but with the
th ree difierem som of questions should be distinguished. first, some nature of the mind - with the questio n whether it is a substance or o
th ings are believed through fairh alo ne - such as th e mystery of the mode. In order to show that it is possib le to defend the tbcsis that t he
In carnation, the T rinity, and the like. Secondly, other questions, wh ile mi nd is nothing bur a mode, he tries to get round an objection taken from
lrnving to do with faith, can also be investiga ted by natura l reason: my writings. I wrote that we cannot doubt that our mind exists, because
among the latter, orthodox theologians usually coun t the questions of the from the very facr t hat we are doubting, it follows tha r our mind exists,
existence of God, and the distinction between the human soul and the but for all rhat, we can doubt whether any bodies exist3. rrom this I
body. "l11irdly, there are questions which have nothing whatever ro do concluded and demonsrrarcd that we dearly perceive lhe mind as an
with faith, and which are the concern solely of human reasoning, such as existing rhing, or substance, even though we have no conception of any
the problem of squaring the orcle, or of making gold by the techniques of body whatever and C\'Cll deny that any bodies exist, and hence that the
alchemy, and the like. j ust as it is an abuse of Scripture to presume to concept of the mind docs not in itself involve any concept ol body. He
solve problems of the third sort on the basis of some mistaken interpreta- thinks that he can explode tit is argumem by saying that 'this just goes to
tion of the Bible, so it diminishes the authority of Scripture to undertake show that, so long as we have doubts about the existence ol the body, we
tO demonstrate questions of the first kind by means of arguments de rived callllot say that the mind is a mode of the body'. He shows here that he i~ 355
solely from philosophy. Theologians, however, all contend that it needs utterly ignorant of what it is that philosophers term a 'mode'. As I
to he shown that such questions arc no t incompatible wirh the natural exp lained above, rhe nature of a mode is such that it canno t be
light, a11<l it is principally to this Lask tha t tltcy devote their studies. As co understood at all unless the concept ol the th ing of which it is a mode is
questions of the second son, not onl y clo they not rega rd them as being implied in its own concept. Our author admits that rhe mind ct111
rcsi,1:1111 to the natural light, but they even encourage philosophers to
l er. 1)edic:itory Lem:r lC) the Mtd1tatfo11s: \'Ol. ll) p. 4.
1 ( I .tr1. 1. p. 1.94 abow. i. C(. Sct:ontl R.:plie~, prop. 4: ''ol. 11~ p. 1 19 . 1\rr. "' 1>. l.9~ ahO\'C. 1 er. Med. \!I: \'OL II, p. S4
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somerimes be understood apart from the body, vfr. when there are as much as by rea l things'. If this reason is sound, it has to be supposed
doubts about the existence of the body. lt follows from this that, ar least that strictl)' speaking we canno t make any use of the intellect, but only of
when such doubts are entertained, the mind cannot be said to be a mode the faculty which is usually called che 'common' sense, the faculty wh ich
of the body. Now what is sometimes true of rhc essence or nature of receives the forms' of things, be they real or imaginary, and by way of
something is always true of it. Nevertheless the author asserts rhat 'the which they affect the mind-a faculty which, philosophers commonly
nature of things leaves open the possibility that the mind is merely a admit, animals also posscss.2 Of course, we may be affected not only by
mode of the body'. 1 These two statements manifestly contradict each images of real things but also by those which occur in our brain from 357
other. other causes (as happens in sleep); even so, since we possess understand-
In the sixth article 1 fail to grasp his meaning. I do remember hearing in i11g and are nor made in the same way as a horse or a mule, we distinguish
the Schools that 'rhe soul is an acrualiry of the organic body',2 but till rhis by the light of reason bcrwccn one so rt of image and the other wirh the
day I ~rnve neve~ heard the soul it~elf rermed 'organic'. So l beg our utmost clarity. I have explained in my writings the method of distin
authors par.don if I set forth my coniectures, no r as true fact, bu t simply guishing con ectly and reliably between these two sorts of images, and my
as mere conjectures, for I have nothing to say here tbat is certain. There account is so exact that I am confident that no one who has read it, and is
are, I think, two mutually incompatible statements which come to mind: capab le of understanding it, can possibl) be sceptical about it.
one is that the human mind is a substance which is really distinct from It is possible to suspect that the author is again being ironical in the
the body. The author does make this statement quite explicitly, but so far tenth and eleventh a rticles. If the sou l is believed to be a substance, it is
as he can, he provides reasons for not accepting it, and contends that it ridiculous and absurd to say 'The bon d which keeps it conjoined with the
can be proved only by the authority ol Holy Scripture. The other body is the law of the immutability of nature, according to which
statement is that the same hu man mind is 'organic' or is instrumental in everything remains in its present state so long as it is not disturbed by
all its acts, i.e. it does not perform any actioos on its own bur is anything else.' For, whether things are conjoined or separated, it is
something of which the body makes use, just as it makes us; ol rhe equally true that they persist in the same state so long as nothing changes
arrangernent3 of its limbs and other corporeal modes. So in fact he it. Yet this is not the point at issue here, bur rather, how it comes about
asserts, though not quite in so many words, chat 'the mind is nothing bur that the mind is conjoined with the body rather than separated from it. If,
a mode of the body', as though he had set rhe sights of all his arguments however, the supposition is that the soul is a mode of the body, it is
on this one ta rget. These two statements are so manifestly contradictory correct to say that we need seek no other bond to acco unt for the soul's
that I do not think the author intended the reader to accept both at the being joined to the body beyond the fact rhat it remains in the stare in
same ~ime; l ~hink he deliberately muddled them rogether, with the aim which it is, since the 'state' of a mode is nothing orher than irs inhering in
of sansfymg 111 some way his more simple-minded readers and fe llow the thing of which it is a mode.
th.eologians by citing the authority of Scripture, while the more sharp In article twelve the author's disagreement with me seems co be merely
w1tred of lus readers would recognize that he is speaking ironically when verbal. When he sa ys that the mind has no need of ideas, or notions, or
he Sa}'S that 'the mind is distinct from d1c body', and that he is entirely of axioms which arc innate, whi le admitting rhar the mind has the power of
the op1mo11 that the mind is nothing bur a mode. thinking (presumably natural or innate), he is plainly saying the same
Agai1~, in the seventh and eighth articles, he seems to be speaking thing as I, though verbally denying it. I have never written or taken the
merel_Y 1ron1cally. He employs the same Socratic style in the larter part of view that the mind requires innate ideas which are something distinct
the mnth amcle. But tn the firsc parr he gives a reason for his assertion, from its own faculty of thinking. I did, however, observe that there were
and so it seems that we must take him seriously when he says that it is by certain thoughts within me which neither came to me from external objects
nature doubtfu l whether any bodies are really perceived by us. His reason nor were determined by my will, buc which came sole I)' from the power
for this assertion is that 'the mind can be affected by imaginary things just of thinking with in me; so I applied the term 'innate' to the ideas or
notions which are the forms of these thoughts in order to distinguish
An. 1 , p. i.94 above.
1
them from others, which I called 'adventitious' or 'made up'.3 This is rhe
2.A \<.hola~ric formulation of Anistocle'5 definicion of the :>oul as first a<:tual iry o( rhc
hod)' . Sc~ Ari~1ollc. D( 1~11ima, 11. 1, .112ai.7. 1 Sec footnorc: 1, p. 154 :ibc)\'e.
I l<odinn ( (mfcnmulio in~tcad of con{irmutfr>. {'strengchcni11s') 1 AT. 3 C,. Med. m: vol. 11~ p. 16.
J. Cf. Med. v 1: vol. 11.1>. 59 .tn<l R1tlcs 1 p. 4 1 <'lbove.

'-.. -
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same sense as 1hat in which we say 1ha1 generosity is 'innate' in certain motions are particular, whereas the common nmions are universal and
families, or that ceriain disca)CS such as gout or stones are inna1c in bear no affinity with, or relation to, the morions.
others: it is not so much that the babies of such families suffer from 1hese In article fourteen he goes on co assen 1ha1 even the idea of God which }60
diseases in their mother's womb, but simply 1ha1 they are born with a is with in us derives its being not from our faculry of chinking, in which
certain 'faculry' o r tendency 10 contracc them. the idea is innate, 'but from d ivine revelation, or verbal ins1rucrion, or
In article thirteen he draws an excraordinary conclusion from the observation of things'. le is easier to recognize 1be error in this assertion if
preceding article. Because the mind has no need of in nate ideas, its power we consider that something can be sa id to derive its being from
of thi nki ng being sufficient, he says, 'all common notions which are something else for two different reasons: either the other thing is its
engrnved in t he mind have th eir origin in observation of chings or in proximate and primary ca use, withou t which it cannot exisc, or it is a
verbal instruction' - as if the power of think in g could achieve nothing on remote a nd merely accidenrn l cause, which gives 1he primary cause
its own, could never perceive or think a nything except whac it receives occasion to produce ics effect at one momenc rather 1han another. Thus
thro ugh o bservation of things or through verbal instruction, i.e. from the worke1s are 1he primary and proximate causes of 1heir work, whereas
senses. But chis is so far from bei ng true that, on the contrary, if we bear chose w ho give them orders to do the work, or promise to pay for it, are
well in mind the scope of our senses and whnr it is exactly that reaches accidental and remote causes, for che workers might nor do the work
our faculty of thinking by way of them, we must admit char in no case arc without instructions. There is, however, no doubt 1hat verbal instruction
the ideas of things presented to us by 1he senses jus1 as we form them in or observation of things is often a remote cause which induces us 10 give
our 1hinking. So much so that 1here is nothing in our ideas which is nor some attention 10 the idea which \\ C can have of God, and to bring 1c
inna1e co the mind o r the faculty of chinking, "~ch rhe sole exception of directly before o ur mind. But no one can say chat this is 1he proximate
those circumstances which rela1e to experience, such as the fact char we and cffidem cause of tbe idea, excep1someone who thinks 1hat all we can
judge 1ha1 1his or 1hat idea which we now have immediately before our ever understand about God is what he is called, namely 'God', or what
}59 mind refers io a certain thing situa ted outside us. We make such a corporea l form paimers use to represent hi m. If the observation is visual,
judgemcnc noc because these things t rnnsmit the ideas to our mind all it can, by its own unaided power, present to che mind arc pictures, and
th rough the sense o rgans, but because th ey transmit something which, at indeed pictures which are composed of nothi ng more than a variety of
exactly 1ha1 momenc, gi ves the mind occasion ro form these ideas by co rporeal motions, as the author himself tel ls us. If 1he observation is
mean s of the faculty innate co it. Nothi ng reaches our mjnd from external auditory, a ll it presents are words and lmera nces. Jf the o bservation is by
objects th rough the sense organs except certain corporeal motions, as our means of the ocher senses, it cannot ha ve any reference co God. It is surely
author himself assen s in article nineteen, in accordance with my own o bvious io everyone 1ha1, scriccly speak ing, sight in itself presents nothing
pri nciples. But neither the moti on~ themselves nor the figures arising buc pictures, and hearing no1hing but utterances and sounds. So every-
from them are conceived by us exactly as they occur in che sense organs, thing over and above these uueranccs and picmres which we think of as
as I have explained at lengch in my Optics. 1 Hence ii follows thac 1he very being signified by them i) rcpresenced to us by mea ns of ideas wbkh come J6 r
ideas of che motions themselves and of the figures are innate in us. The to us from no other source than our own faculty of thinking. Conse-
tdeas of pa in, colours, sounds and the like must be all che more innate if, quently these ideas, along with tha1 faculty, arc innate in us, i.e. they
on the occasion of certain corporeal morions, our mind is to be capable always exist wichin us potentiall), for to exis1 in some faculty is not to
of representing them to itself, for there is no similaril)' between these exist actuall y, but merely potentially, since the term 'faculty' denotes
ideas and the corporeal motions. Is ic poss ible ro imagine anything more nothing but a potemial ity. But no one can assert rhat we can know
absurd than that all the common notions within o ur mind arise from nothing of God other than his name or 1he corporea l image wh ich art iS!S
such motions and cannot exis t without them? I would like our author co give him, unless he is prepared openly to admit thac he is an atheist and
tell me what 1he corporeal morion is that is capable of forming some indeed totally lacking in in tellect.
common notion to the effect that ' things which are equal to a third thing Jn article fifteen, after giving us hi s opinion concerning God, o ur
are eq ual to each other', or any other he ca res to cake. For all such author comroverts all the argurncu ts which I used 10 demon~trnte the
existence of God. Ai this point we can onl y marvel at the impudence of
r Optics, pp. n and 167 above: <f. nbo "lrtm1se ou Man. pp. 10.ff above:. the man, in his suppo; ing tha t he can Ml c,1,il y and ~o briefly overt urn all
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the arguments which I composed only after prolonged and careful In the remaining six articles there is nothing wonh commenting o n
meditation, and which I rook an entire book to expound. But all the except that when the author wishe~ to distinguish rhe properties of the
arguments which I adduced for this purpose reduce to two. The first is soul, he speaks of them in a quite confused and inappropriate manner. I
that, as I have shown, t we have a conceprion or idea of God which is such have srared that all these properties reduce ro 1wo principal ones, of
that if we arrend to che idea closely and thoroughly examine che issue in which one is the perception of the intellect and the other the deiermina-
the way I have explained, we shall recognilc, simply from this scnuiny, cion of the will,1 the:.c our author calls 'intellect' and '"olition'
thar it is not possible rhat God does not exist, since exisrence is con rained respccrivel)'.i He then goes on to divide what he calls 'intellect into
in the concept of God - and not just possible or contingem existence, as 'perception' and 'judgement'. l Bur he differs from me on this point. For I
in the ideas of all other things, but ahsolutcly necessary and actual saw 1hat over and above perception, which is a prerequisite of judge
existence. Besides l am nor alone in rega rding this argument as a certain ment, we need affi rma1io11 and negarion to determine the form of rhe
and evident dcmonscrarion; many otbcrs do so as well, including those judgement, and also th a1 we are often free ro withhold our assent, even if
pre-eminently lea rned and intelligent men who have examined the argu we perceive the matter in question. Hence I assigned the act of judging
mcnt with care. Here is how the author of the broadsheet controverts my itself, which consim simply in a~scnting (i.e. in affirmation or denial) to
argument: 'Our concept of God, or the idea of God which is present in the determination of the will rather than to the perception of the intellect.
our mind, does nor in itself constitute aver)' sirong argument for proving Later on, in enumerating the forms of perception, he list~ only sense
the exisrence of God, for it is nor the case thar everything of which we perception, memory, and imagination. \V/e ma)' garher from this tha1 he
have an explicic conception exisis.' This sca1emcnt shows that while he docs not admit any pure undemanding, i.e. understanding which is nor
has read my writings, he has by no means been able, or willing, to concerned with ao)' corporeal images, and hence that his view is that we
understand them. For the force of my argument docs not derive from the have no knowledge of God, or of rhe human mind, or of other
idea of God understood in a general sense, but from a particular incorporeal things. Th e only explanation for this rhat I can think of is
characteristic of the idea, a characteristic which is most evident in our rhac what rhough1s he has on these matters are so confused 1ba1 he is
idea of God and which is nor ro be found in rhe concept of any other never aware of having a pure rh ought, a thought which is quire disrinct
thi ng, namely 1he necessity of exis tence, which is required for the from any corporea l image.
consummatio n of the perfections withoul wh ich God cannot l>e under- At the end, he adds the fol lowing sentence taken from one of my
stood. The second argu ment which I used LO dcmo11stra1e the existence of writings: 'No one acguircs a great repuration for piety more easily than
God was based on rhc facr (which l clearly proved) tha1 we would nol 1he superstitious or hypocritica l person.' What he means by this l cannot
have hnd the ability 10 understand all the pcrfccrio11s which we recognize see, unless his reference to h)pocrisy has to do with his frequently
in God, if it were nor true that God exists and 1hat we were created by resorting to irony, though I hardly think that he can acquire a gre:u
him.l Our author thinks tba1 he has 1horoughly demolished this argu reputation for piety that way.
ment with his assertion chat the idea we ha\'C of God no more transcends To sum up, I am forced to admil rha1 I bl ush with shame to think that
our d1aractcrisric powers of thinkrng than the concept of any other thing in the past I ha,e praised this amhor as a man of the most penetrating
whatever.J If he means by this simpl) rhac the concept which we have of inrelligencc, and have written somewhere or other rha1 ' I do not think he
God wirhout che aid of supernatural grncc 1s no less natural than any of teaches any doctrines which I would be unwilling co acknowledge as my
our concepts of ocher things, then his \'icw agrees with mine; but on chat own. "5 Bur when I wrote that sentence, rhe only examples of his \\ Ork
basis he has no case against me. If, however, he thinks that in che concept thac I had seen were ones in which he was faithful ly copying me, with the
of God no more objective perfections arc implied 1han in all other exception of just one cxpm.sion, 6 which had sucl1 unfortunate rcsu lrs for
concep1s taken together, then he is clearly misraken. lt is just this
l Cf. Principles, Part 1, art. }1, p. io4 ab<>vc. 1 Art. 16~ p. 2.96 abovt.
superabundance of perfections, in which our conccp1 of God surpasses l Arr. 17, ibid. -1 ArL 18, ;bM.
all others, that I have used as the basis of my argument. s CC. Letser to Voetius (publisheJ 164 1) where Dt-sc:ines says 'Nt-\'crthd<'S5 I c:rcdit l{rsius
with ::m cxcc:cdingJy sh:1q' nud pc11crr.iring intellect. i;o that there is hardly Jn)rhing 1n hi.;
wri1ings which l would 1\0t be happ) to atknowledge as my own' (AT VJllS 163).
1 5<:c Med. \':vol. pp. 45f.
11, s... J\kd. Ill: vol. 11. pp. >Sff. Viz. the: sc:ntc:ncc, 'M:.m i~ '" c:nti1y orily :u:cidcnrJll)''. See Desc;inei/ ltctUJ w RtKJU) or
\ Art. 18, p . i96 above. midDecember 1641 ~nd January r6.p. (AT 111 460 and 508).
308 Comments 011 a Certai11 Broadsheet Comments on a Certain Broadsheet 309

him that l hoped he would make no further attempt of this sort. In other Nevertheless, they arc not unlike those iews which have often been
matters, I could see, he made a great show of embracing opinions which I slanderously impured ro me in 1hc past by men of tha1 stamp; secondly,
considered robe absolutely true; so I put th is down to his imd~gence and no one else is known ro whom these views could be attributed; and lastly,
insight. But now my wider experience compels me to think that it is not many people are in no doubt that I am the object of attack in chesc
so much the love of trurh which grips him as the love of novelty. He pamphlets. For these reasons l shall take this opporruniry ro instruc11hcir
regards everyth ing he has learnt from others as old-fashioned and author on the following poims.
obsolete, and nothing seems novel enough for him if he has nor wrung it f irst, by 'innate ideas' l have never meant anything other than what the
36 5 from his own brain. Yet so unfortunarc are his own invenrions that I have author himself, on page six of the second pamph let, explicitly asserts to
never noticed any word in his writings (save what be had copied from be true, viz. that ' there is present in us a natural power which enab les us
others) which in my view did nor conta in some error. I must therefore to know God'. But I have never writcen or eve n thought that such ideas
warn all those who are convinced that he is a champion of my opinions are actual, or rhar they arc some sort of 'forms' which are distinct from
that there is not one of them of which he does not give a wrong and o ur faculcy of ch inking. Indeed, tbere is no one more opposed than l ro
di;torted account; and I have in mind here not just my views on the useless lumber of scho lastic entities; so much so that I could hardly
metaphysics, on which he openly contradicts me, but also on physics, keep from laughing when I saw the enormous battalion of arguments
which be deals with somewhere in his writings. So l find this learned which the gentleman had painstakingly mustered - quite without malice,
doctor's treatment of my writings and his efforts at interpreting (or no doubt - to prove that 'babies have no acrual conceprion of God while
rather, falsifying) them much more annoying than the most bitter attacks they are in their mother's womb' - as if he were thereby mounting a
which others have made upon them. devastating assault upon me.
Lndeed I have neer yet seen one of these harsh critics who did nor Secondly, I have never even taught that 'God is to be denied, or rhat he
foist upon me views which were utterly different from my ow n, and so can deceive us, or that everything shou ld be doubted, or that we should 367
preposterous and silly chat I had no fear that any man of intelligence entirely withdraw our confidence in the senses, or rhar we should not
could be persuaded chat they were mine. Thus as l write these words, I distinguish between being asleep and being awa ke', and other things of
have just received cwo new pamphlets put together by an opponent of that sort - doctrines of which I a m sometimes accused by ignoran1
just this sorc. 1 In the first of these it is stated that there arc 'some detrnctors. I have ex plicitly disavowed all such views, and refuted them
innov:nors who deny that we can have any firm cruse in the senses, and with very strong argumen ts - stronger, [ venture to add, than any th:11
who contend that philosophers can deny that there is a God and doubt anyone before me has employed in refuting them. In order to achieve an
his existence, while at the same time they admit that actua l conceptions easier and more effecrivc refutat ion of them, I proposed at the beginning
of God, forms,2 and ideas of him are naturally implanted in the human of my Meditations ro treat all such matters as doubtful. I was noc 1hc firM
mind'. In the second pamphlet we are told that these innovators 'have rhe to discoer such doubcs: the sceptics have long been harping on thi\
audacity to proclaim rhat God should be called the efficient cause of theme. What could be more perverse than to ascribe to a wri 1cr vie'"
himself not 1usc in a negative sense but also in a positive sense'. In each of which he reporrs simpl y in order to refute? What could be more foolhh
these pamphlets the sole concern is to pile up argumcntS to prove: first, than to pretend that during the interval in which such views arc being
tha1 we ha,e no actual knowledge of God in our mother's womb, and stated, pending their refutation, they are the doc1rines of t he wrirer, and
hence that 'no actual form or idea o( God is innate in our mind'; second, hence tba1 someone who mentions 1he arguments of the atheht~ b
366 th a1 'we must not say that there is no God' and that 'those who do are temporarily an atheist? What more childish than to object that if he were
atheists and sho uld be punished by law'; and third, that God is not the to die before he discovered or wrote down his 'hoped for refutation' he
'efficient' cause of himself. would die an atheist, a nd that in the meantime he has been convcrini; :i
I might well suppose chat all these assertion:. were not directed against pernicious doctrine, and moreover that 'evil should noc be do ne fo1 the
me, for my name is not mcncioncd in l'liese pamphlers, and not one of the sake of beneficial ends', and so forth? Someone perhaps will Sa)' that I
views attacked strikes me as being ~nyching but utterly absurd and fa lse. conveyed these false views, not as the opin ions of others, but as my own.
1 Gcmimi Disp"tatio A1et.1plJ)Jkn ,f< Dt'<>. J:acquc:11 de R1\'tS {1647). nut :.o what? In the same h<>ok in which I related them l refuted all of
J. l ..1t. &pecies: set' footnott l, p. 1 S-4 t1hoY(, chem, and one could cwn 'cc from the very title of the book that I was
310 Com111e11ts on a Certain Broadsheet Comments 011 a Certain Broadsheet 3 11

unerly opposed to believing them, since ic promises 'demonstrations of erased all recollection of rhem from the memory of those who have
the existence of God'. Is cher:e anyone so dull as to imagine that the al read) read them. While these things remain undone, they arc doing
author of a book with such a title did not know, when wriring che first more harm 10 themselves than to me. h is a wonder also thac they should
pages, what he had undertaken co demonstrate in rhc rest of the book ? I so bitrerly and zealously attack me, despite the fact that I have neve r
conveyed rhe obj ections as my ow11 simply because the meditative style, provoked or harmed them (tho ugh no doubt if ro used I could lrnvc hurc
which in my judgement was the most appropriate for expotmding my them). wh ile they rake no action against many others who devote cnrirc
a rguments, demanded this approach. Jf t his explanation does not satisfy books to the refutation of their doctrines, and ridicu le th em as hood
our hostile critics, l should like to know what they would say about Holy winked simpletons. But I do not wane 10 add anyth ing here which mighc
Scripture (which should not be compared with the writings of mere men), make them give up their established practice of attacking me in their
when they see chat there are some things in ic which can be properly books, since lam very pleased to sec that they think me so imporrnnt. But
understood only if they are viewed as the utterances of 11npious people, in the meannme I pray that they reco\'cr their good sense.
or at any rate of people other than the Holy Ghost o r the Prophets. For
example, these sentences from Chapter 2. of Ecclesiastes: 'There is Wlrt11e11 at gmont, Holland, to111ards the end of December, 1647.
nothing better for a man than that he should eat and drink, and that he
should make his soul enjoy good in his labour. This also I saw, that it was
fro m t he hand of God. for who can ea t o r who else can hasten th ereunto,
more than I?' And in the foll owing chapter: 'l sa id in mine heart
concerning the estate of che sons of men, that God might manifest them,
and that they might sec that they chemsel\'es arc beasts; for that which
bcfalleth the sons of men befallech beasrs; even one thing befallech them:
as the one dieth, so dieth the orher; >ea, they have all one breath: so that
a man hath no pre-eminence above a beast.' Do they believe that the
I Joly Ghost here is instruct ing us that we should fi ll our bellies and
wallow in pleasure;, 0 1 tha t our souls are no more immo rta l than the
souls o f beam? I do not chi nk they are quite so mad as to believe tbat. So
they o ught not ro slander me just because in my writings I have not
:ivailed myself of precautions which have never been observed by any
other writer (nor, even, by the Holy Ghost).
Thirdly and lastly, I must ad\ise me author of these pamphlers that I
have never written that God should be called 'the efficient cause of
himself not just in a negarivc sense buc also in a positive sense', as he is
rash enough to allege on page eight of t he second booklet. However
carefu lly be sifts, sca ns :md pores over my wri tings, he will not fi nd in
169 them anything like thi s - quite th e reverse in facc. 1 Anyone who has read
my writings, o r has any knowledge of me, o r at least does not.thi nk me
111tcrly sill y, knows that I mn totally opposed to such extravaga nt views.
I fence I can only wonder what these slanderers are aiming at. For if they
w.1111 ro convince people that I wrote things the very opposite of which
.uc 10 be found in my writings, they should first have raken the
prccmition of suppressing all my publications, and should even have

1 Cl. fourth Replies: vol. 11. pp. r64f(.


Description of the Human Body

T ranslator's preface

The extra cts tha t fol low, which a re based on the text in Volume XI of
Ad a m and Tannery, ' a rc from an un finished treatise, La Description d11
corps humain, first publish ed by C lerselier in 1664 with h is ed ition of the
Treatise on Man. (T he a lterna tive tide 'On the fo rmation of the foetus',
w h ich C lerselier placed at the h ead of each page, properly relates o n ly to
Part Fou r o f the crearise.) T he work dates from the w inte r o f r647/8 , as
we know from a letter co Prin cess Eliwbe th of January 1648, where
D escartes ta lks of working on a ' descript ion of the functio ns o f rhe
anima l a nd of man'. Frans Burman, w ho interviewed Descancs in April
l648, provides the following a d ditiona l in forma tion:
In 1he treatise on the animal which he [Descartes) worked on this winter he
noticed the following: a lthough his aim was merelr to explain the functions of the
animal, he saw that he could hardly do thi~ without having to explain the
formation of the a nimal right from the beginning. And this was some1hing thar he
found to i>c derivable from his pri nciples ro the extent tha t he was able to give a
reason for the existence of the eye, nose, brain and so on. He saw, moreover, that
the nature ol 1hese things was so constituted in accordance with his principles
that it could not be otherwise. Ilm these were all matters which he did not wish to
go into at such length, and so he gave up wri1ing rhe trearise.2
J.C.
1 See General forroducrion, p. x above.
ATv 170.
Description of the Human Body

are simply bodily movements; further, it is more common for a body co


be moved by another body than for it to be moved by a soul. Hence, we
have less reason to attribute such fu nctions to the soul than to the body.
We can also observe that when some part of our body is harmed, for
exa mple when a nerve is irritated, rhe result is chat the part in question
ceases to obey our will as it normall y does, and sometimes is subject to
ATXJ DESCRIPTION OF T l-IE HUMAN BODY conv ulsive movements despite o ur wishes. This shows chat the soul
cannot produce a ny movemerit in the body without the appropriate
u3 AND OF A LL ITS !:'UNCTIONS
disposition of the bodily organs which are required for making rhe
both those which do not in any way depend on the soul, and
movement. On the contrary, when all the bodily organs arc appropriately
those which do, and including the chief cause ofthe disposed for some movement, the body has no need of the soul in order
formation of the parts of the body to produce that movement; and, as a result, all the movements which
we in no way experience as depending on our thought must be attributed
Part One not to the soul, bur simply co the disposition of the organs. Even the
/>R E FA CE movements which we call 'voluntary' occm priocipally as a result of chis
disposition of che organs, since, although it is the soul that determines the
There is 110 more fruitful exercise than attem pting to know ourselves. movemenrs, they cannot be produced without the requisi te disposition of
The benefits we may expect from such knowledge nor only rel ate to rbe organs, no matter bow much we may will this co happen.
ethics, as many would init iallx suppose, but also have a special import- Furthermore, although all these movements cease in a corpse, o nce the
ance for medicine. I believe that we would have been able to find many soul has quit the body, we must not infer that ir is rbe sou l which
very reliable rules, both for curing illness and for preventing it, and even produces them; the only inference we may make is that it is one and the
for slowing down the ageing process, if only we had spent enough effort same ca use which both makes rhe body unfitted to produce these
on getting to know the nature of our body, instead of anriburing to the movements and makes the soul leave che body.
soul fonctions which depend so lely on the body and on the disposition of It is true that we may find it hard to belie,e that the mere disposition of 2.2.6
its organs. the bodily organs is sufficient co produce in us all rhe movements which
Since childhood, however, we have all found by experience rhat many are in no way determined by om thought. So I will now try to prove the
bodily movements occur in obedience to the will, which is one of rhe point, and to give such a full accoun t of the entire bodily machine that we
faculties of the soul, and this has led us to believe that the soul is the will have no more reason to chink that it is our soul which produces in it
principle responsible for all bodily movement. Our ignorance of anatomy the movements which we know by experience are not controlled by our
and mechanics has also played a major role here. For in restricting our will than we have reason to think that there is a soul in a clock which
consideration to the outside of the human body, we have never imagined makes it cell the time.
that it has within it enough organs or mechanisms co move of its own Everyone already has some knowledge of the different pares of the
accord in all the different ways which we observe. Our error was human body. That is co say, we all know that it is composed of a very
reinforced by our belief that no movement occurs inside a corpse, though large number of bones, muscles, nerves, veins and arteries, together wirh
it possesses the same organs as a living body, and lacks only a soul. a heart, a brain, a liver, lungs and a sromach. Jndeed, we have all ar some
But when we rry to get to know our nature more distinctly we can see time or orher seen various animals cur open, and been able co look at the
that our soul, in so far as it is a substance which is distinct from the body, shape a nd arrangement of their insides, which very much resemble our
is known to us merely th rough the fact chat it thinks, that is to say, under- own. Titis is all the anatomy chat che reader will. need ro have studied in
stands, wills, imagi nes, remembers and has sensory perceptions; for order to understand this book; for l will take care co explain any further
all these functions are kinds of thought. The other functions which some details rhat ueed to be known as and when l have occasion ro speak of
people attribute co t he soul, such as movi11g the heart and the arteries, t hem.
digesting food in the stomach and so on, do not involve any thought, and First of all, I want the rcade~ ro have a general notion of the entire

'----
Description of the Human Hody Description oft.he HtJman Bod)'

machine which it is my task to describe. So l will say here that the heat in men, and against t he ordina ry evidence of wha t we see, that when the
the heart is like the great spring or principle respo nsible for all the move- heart lengthens, its cav ities increase in size, and that when it sho rtens,
ments occurring in the machine. T he veins arc pipes which conduct tbe they become narrower. I claim, instead, to demonstrate that they become
blood from all the parts of the bod y towards t he heart, where it serves to even larger when t he hea rt shortens.
227 fuel the heat there. T he stomach and the intestines are another much larger The reasons which led H arvey to his view a re the following. He
pipe perforated with many little holes through wh ich che juices from the o bserved r.b at the heari becomes harder when it shortens; and that in the
food ingested run into the vei ns; these then caHy the juices straight co the case of frogs and other animals which have little blood, it beco mes
heart. The arteries are yet another set of pipes through wh ich the blood, whiter, or less red, when it lengthens; an d finall y, that if we make an
which is heated and rarefied in the heart, passes from t here into all the incision down to che cav ities, blood flows o ut through the incision at the
other pam of t he body, bringing them heat and ma terial to nourish them. moment when the heart shortens, but not when it lengthens. He believed
Finally, the parts of the blood tbat arc most agitated and lively are carried that it was perfectly sound to infer from t his that when the heart becomes
to the brain by the arteries coming di rectly from t he heart in the hard it is contracting; he further inferred that the hea rt's becoming less
straightest line of all ; these pam of the blood make up a kind of air or red in certain a nimals is evidence that the blood is leaving ir; and fi nally
very fine 1 wind which is called the 'ani mal spirits'. T hese dilate the he thought that since blood is observed to come o ut via the incision, this
brain and make it ready co receive impressions bot h from external o bjeccs obliges us to believe th at the cause is a nar rowing of the space containing
and from the soul; and in receiving these imp ressions the brain acts as the the blood.
organ o r seat of the 'comm on' sense,2 the imagination and the memo ry. He could have supported th is lase point by a very striking experiment.
Next, this same air or these same spirits flow from the brain through the If you slice off the pointed end of che hearc in a live dog, and insert a
nerves into all the muscles, thus making the nerves ready to function as finger into one of the cavities, you will fee l unmistakably chat every t ime
organs for the external senses; they also intlate the muscles in various the heart gets shorcer it presses t he finger, and every time it gets longer ir
ways and rbus impart movement to all the pa rts of the body. stops pressi ng it. T his seems to make it q uite certain that t11e cavities are z.42
These, in brief, are all the things which it is my task to describe in this narrower when there is mo re pressure on the finger tha n when there is
book. The purpose is to enable us to know distinctly what chere is in each less. Nevertheless, all that this proves is that observations may often lead
of our actions which depends only on the body, and whac there is which us ast ray when we do not examine rheir poss ible causes with sufficient
depends o n the sou l. T his will enable us to make better use both of body care. Admittedly, if the interior of the heart contracted, as Harvey
and of soul and to cure or prevent the maladies of both . imagines, this cou ld cause ir to become harder and less red in anim als
which have little bl ood ; it could also cause cbe blood in the cavities to
come om via the incision we have made; and finally, it cou ld cause
Part Two pressure on a finger inserted through the incision. But all this does not
THE .'vl0VMENT OF T H E H EART AND TH E BLOOO J alter the fact that the same effeccs cou ld also proceed from a different
ca use, namely t he expansion of the hlood which I have described.
(2) 9) . . . T his circular movement of the blood was first noticed by an English
In order to be in a position to tell which of these two causes is t he trne
physicia n called H arvey, who deserves the highest possible praise for
one, we will have to consider other o bservations which are not compati-
making such a valua ble discovery .. .
ble with both explanations. The first sud1 obse rvation I can provide is
(24 T) Bm Harvey was not so successful, in my view, on the q uestion of the
this. If the heart becomes hard because of the contraction of the fibres
heart's movement. He imagined, against the ge neral opin ion of medica l
inside it, this must reduce its size; if, instead, the e<1.use of the hardening is
the expansion of the blood w ichin rhe heart, th is must increase its size.
1 f r. subril, by which Descartes means 'comp-0scd of very small, fast -moving particles._ Now we see when we make our o bservations chat the hea rt does noc
2. See footnore J= ~b-Ovt p. P diminish in size, but on the contrn ry, grows larger - whi ch has led other
; The firsr part of this section closely follows che exposition given in the Treatise 011 Ma11
and the Discourse, Parts (pp. 1ooff> and 134-'7 above). For Harve)', see footnote p. 136 medical men to concl ude that it swells up d uring chis phase. It is true,
above. however, l"irnt the increase in size is not grc:1t; but rhc reason for this is
Description of the I fttma11 Body Descriptio11 of the Human Body JT9

evident: th e heart has several fibres stretched like cords from one side of there is more heat in 1hc blood than in the whole of the rest of rhe body,
its cavities to the other, and these stop them opening a great deal. and rhat blood can be rarefied by heat, no one has so far noticed that it i~
14 3 There is another observation which shows that when the heart the rarefaction of the blood, and this alone, that is the cause of rhe heari 's
shorrens and gets hard its ca1itics do nor thereby become narrower, but movement. It may seem that Aristotle thought of this when he remarked,
on the contrary become wider. [(you cut off the pointed end of tbe heart in Chapter Twenty of his book 011 Respiration, 'this movement is similar t4 5
in a young rabbit which is still alive, you will be able to see b)' inspection to the action of a liquid boiled by heat'. He also said that 1he pu lse is
that 1he cavities become slightly wider, and emit blood, when the heart caused by the '1uices from ingested food continually entering the heart
hardens; and even when they emit o nly very small drops of blood, and raising its inmost skin'. 1 But since he makes no mention in this
because very little blood remains in the animal's body, they still continue passage either of the blood or of the way in which the hea rt is made, it is
to retain the same width. What stops them opening e1en wider are the clearly only by chance that he happened co say something approaching
t iny fibres stretched from o ne side to rhe other, which hold them back. the truth; he possessed no cenain knowledge on the matter. What is
What makes this less obviously apparent in the heart of a dog, or other more, Aristotle's view on this question was not adopted by anyone, even
more vigorous animal, than it is in that of a young rabbit, is that the though on many ocher questions where his views are much less plausible
fibres occupy a greater part of the cavitk'S; they stiffen when the heart he had the good fortune to gain a large number of followers.
becomes hard and can exert pressure on a linger placed in the cavities. Nevertheless, it is so important to know the true ca use 0 the heart's
But for all that, the cavities do not become narrower; on the contrary, movement that without such knowledge it is impossible to know
they become wider. anything which relates to the theory of medicine. For all the other
I will add a third observation, which is as follows. When the blood functions of the animal a rc dependent on this, as will be clearly seen in
leaves the heart, it does not have the same qualities which it had when what follows.
entering: it is much hotter, more rar<:fied and more agitated. Now if we
suppose that the beart moves in the wa)' Harvc)' describes, we must Part Three
imagine some faculty which causes this movement; yet tbe narure of this
foculty is much harder to conceive of than whatever Harvey purports to NUTRCT IO Nl
i44 explain by invoking it. What is more, we shall also have to suppose that Bur in order to achieve a distinct understanding of this poim, we (2.47)
rhcrc are additional facult ies which change the qualities of the blood should bear in mind that the parts of all living bodies which r<:<Juire
while it is in the heart. If, i11stead, we restrict o ur consideration to the ex- nutrition to sustain rhem (i.e. animals and plams) are continually
pansion of the blood which must follow necessarily from the heat (which, undergoing change. So there is no difference between those parts we ca ll
as everyone recognizes, is greater in the heart than in all th e other p arrs of fluid, such as the blood, the humours and rhe spirits, and rhose we ca ll
t he body), it will be plain to see that this expansion alo ne is sufficient to solid, such us bones, Aesh, nerves and skin, beyond th e fact rhat each
move the heart in the way J have described, and also to change the oarnre particle of 1hese larrer parts moves much more slowly than the particles
of the blood in the way which observation shows to be the case. Indeed, ir of the former.
is sufficient 10 produce all the changes which one can imagine must be To conceive how these particles move we must suppose 1har: al l the
required in order to prepare the blood, and make it more suited for solid parts are composed simply of small fibres stretching out and folding
nourishing all the limbs and for employment in all the functions which it back and sometimes intertwining in various ways. Each fibre emerges
facilitates in rhe body. Thus we do not have to suppose, in order to from a place on one of the branches of an artery; and the Ouid parts, i.e.
CX"plain all this, any unknown or strange faculties. the humours and the spirirs, Aow alongside these little fibres, through the
For surely the best and swiftest way of preparing the blood that we can
possibly imagine is that which is effected through fire or heat - the
1 Ansrodc. Pana Na1ural1a '480014.
strongcst agent that we know of 1n nature. The heat rarefies the blood in l. Dt.."\Cartt' ~ft.IU'\ rh1s Stthon o( tht work by acguing that it i.s rhe arterial Mood (rather
the heart, separates the tiny pans ol the blood one from rhe orher, and 1h;m dut rC"turnmtt to tht hc01rt through tht vdns) which ~nes 10 nourish all rhc regions
divides them up and changes their ~hapcs in all the ways we can imagine. ol tht boJy; "' pJruclo, bcang smlll and fosrmo,;ng,. can eassly enter among the strands
c:omrc>\111~ tht vJrH>m \C:>l1d JXlrt; 0 the bod)'
So I am very surprised that although it has always been known that
320 Description of the Huma11 Body Description of the Numan Body }2.l

spaces around them, thus mak ing up an infinite number of small When ch e humours which Oow between the little fibres are not
channels, all originaring 111 the a rreries and normally emerging from copious, they all pass fa ir!) rapidly along che channels containing them,
rhe pores of the arteric> which arc ncarc>t to the roots of the fibres causing rhc body to grow taller and rhc solid parts to grow withou t
alongside whid1 they nm. After following the fibres d1rough various twists getting any thicker. But when the humours are very copious, they cannot
and turns in the body they finally come to tl1e surface of the skin; and the flow so easilr between the little fibres of the solid particles; and in chc
humours and spirits rhcn evaporate into th e ourer air through its pores. case of those parts which have very irregular branch-like shapes and rhus
In addition ro 1hese pores through which the humours and spirits have the hardest passage of all between the fibres, the resuh is 1hat little
run, there arc many other much narrower pores through which there by little they become lodged there and form fat. Fat does not grow in the
~8 continually passes material of the first two clemcnrs which I described in body by means of no urishment in the strict sense, as Hesh does; i1
my Principles.' The agimted material of the first rwo elements encounters accumulace:. simply bccau~e many of its pans join together and stick one
1he agitated mmerial of the humours and the spirits; they in turn, as they to rhe other, as do che pares of dead chings.
run alongside the linle fibres making up the solid parts of the body, When the humours become less copious they flow more easily and 250
continually make the fibre;. move forward slightly, albeit very slowly. more quickly, because 1he subcle matter and che accompanying spirits
Thus each part of every fibre travels from the place where rhe fibre has its have more force to agitate them. This causes chem gradually to pick up
root~ to the surface of the limb where it terminates; and on arrival it 1he particles of for and carry them off, which is how people become thin.
encounters the air, or the other bodies couching the surface of the skin, As we get older, che little fibres which make up the solid pans of the
which makes it separa1e from the rest of the fibre. Thus some part is body conm1cr and stick 1ogether more and more, and in the end they
always being detached from the end of each fibre, and at the same time attain such a degree of hnrdness that the body stops growing entirely, and
another part is being attached ro the root, in the way I have already even loses the abil ity to be nourished. This leads co such a disproportion
described. If the detached part emerges at the skin, it evaporates in the between the solid parts and the fluid pares that life is extinguished by old
air; but if it emerges at the surface of some muscle or some other interior age alone ... 1
part, it mixes with rhc fluid pans and flows with them ro wherever they
arc going, i.e. sometimes outside the body and sometimes through the
veins towards the heart, where rhe fluid parts often return. Part Four (i.52)
Thus we may see chat al l the parts of the licrle Jibres which make up the
so lid parrs of the body have a movement which is no different from that T ll U l';\ JU'S 01' Tll E JlO DY \VH I Cll A R E FO R MED I N THE
of th e humours and the spirits, except that it is much slower; simila rly, Sf.MINA!. MATERIAL
the movement of the humours and the spirits is slower than 1hat of the
more subtle material. 2 We may acquire an even more perfect knowledge of the way in which all
249 These different speeds arc the cause of the various solid or lluid parts the parts of th e body arc nourished if we consider how they were
becoming larger or smaller as they rub against one another; they behave origin ally formed from the semina l material. Hitberto I have been
in different ways depending on the different constitution of each body. unwilli ng to put my views on this topic in writing because l have nor yet
When one is young, for example, the little fibres which make up the solid been able to make enough observations2 co verify all the ideas I have had :1.53
parts arc not ye1 very rightly joined together, and the channels along on the subject. Nevertheless, I cannot forbear, in passing, to give some
which the fluid pares flow are fairly large; hence the movement of the indication of the mo~t general points; I hope I shall run the least risk
fibres is slower than when one is old. Also, more matter is being attached of having to retract chese later, in che light of fresh observations.
to cheir roors than is being detached from their extremities, which causes I leave the shape and arrangement of the particles of che seminal
them 10 grow longer and get stronger; their increase in size is rhe means materia l qu11c unspecified; it is enough for me to state chat the seed of
whereby the body grows. plants, bemg hard and solid, may have its pans arranged and siruared in
a prcci~e way chat cannot be altered without desuoying their efficacy. Bur
I ~ P;m Ill, ~rt. s1. :abo\'t p. z.58. 1 lhttc lolko" lunhcr Jeiaols ol the role of 1h< blood m nurnrioo.
l. Stt footnote 11bc>.. ~ p. , 16. J. l r. t'.\f't"rlt'HCt'S; \4:( foomO((, p . ... 'JboV('.
Descriptio11 of the Human Body Descriptio1t of the Numan Body

ic is quire diffcrcnl in the case of che seminal mace rial of animals, which is which join cogethcr in this way as chey move out of the hcarc never leave
very fluid and is ordinarily produced by the copulation of the two sexes. the roure by which they can go back into it - unlike the many o cher
This material is a pparentl y just a diso,.ga nized mixcurc of two fl uids pa rcicles which penetrate che mass of seminal material more easily on
which act on each other as a kind of yeast, generating mutual heac. Some every side; chis material is the source from which new parcicles continue
of the particles thus acquire as much agitacion as fire has, and expand ro move towards the heart, until ir is all used up.
and press on other particles, thereby purring them linle by licde into rhe As a result of this, those who know the explanation of the nature of
state required for che formacion of the pares of che body. lighc which I gave both in my Optics and my Pri11cip/es, and the
To achieve this resu lt the two fluids in question do not need to be very explanation of chc nature of colours which I gave in my Meteorology,' will
d ifferent. We may observe how o ld dough makes new dough swell, or easily be able to understand why the blood of all anima ls 1s red. For, as I
how the scum formed on beer is able to serve as yeast for another brew; explained in che works just cited, what makes us sec lighc is simply rbe
a nd in the same way it is easy enough to accept tha1 the semina l material p1cssure of the material of the second elcmenc. Tbe material, as I said, is
of each sex functions as a yeasl to that of the ocher, when che two fluids composed of many small balls which are in mutual contact; and we have
are mixed together. sensory awareness of two kinds of motion which these balls have. One is
:1.54 Now I think thac the first !lung to happen in this mixture of seminal the motion by which they approach our eyes in a straight line, which :t56
material is that heat is generated; and this bring it about that all the d rops gives us che sensation of light; and the ocher is the morion whereby chey
of the Ou id no lo nger resemb le each o cher. The hear acts in the same way turn about their ow n centres as they approach us. If chc speed at which
as it does in new wine when it fermen ts, or in hay which is stored before they turn is much smaller than chat of their rectilinear morion, the body
it is dry: ir causes a number of particles to gather 1oge1her in some pare of from which they come appears blue 10 us; while if the turni ng speed is
the space conraining them, and then makes chem expand and press upon much greater chan that of their rectilinear morion, rhe body appears red
other su rrounding particles. This is how the hean begins to form. to us. Bur rhe only rype of body which could possibly make their turning
Nexc, since the small parts which are expanded m this way rend co motion faster is one whose tiny pares have such slender scrands, and ones
continue their movement in a straight line, and the heart which has begun which are so close cogether (as I have $hown those of the blood to be),
to form resists them, they slowly move away and make their way to the that the only material revolving round chem is chac of the first clement.
area where the brain-s eem fo rms lat el' on; in so doing they displace Olhcr The little balls of the second element encou ncer this material of the first
particles which move round in a ci rcle so as ro occup)' their original place element on the surface of the blood; this materi al of che first elcmenc then
in tbe hearr. 111ese lateer particles, after the short time needed for them to passes with a contin uous, very rapid, oblique morion from one gap
assemble in the heart, in rum expand and move away, following the same between the balls to another, thus moving in an opposile di rcccion co che
path as the earlier group. The result i~ that some particles from che earlier balls, so chac they are forced by it to turn about rheir centres. Indeed,
group which are still in position, together with ocher~ which have moved their speed of roration is perforce more rapid than any other cause could
in from elsewhere to take che place of those which have meanwhile left, produce, since the first element surpasses all ocher bod ies in speed.
now move into the beacr; here they expand and move away o nce more. Jc is for virtually the same reason chat iron a ppears red when it is hot or
111is expansion, which occurs in various repeated phases i11 this way, is that coals appea r red whe n they arc burning: at such ti mes their pores are
what rhe bea1ing of the hcarc, or the pu lse, consists in. filled only with material of rhe firsr element. But since these pores are nor
Concerning the material which passes inco che heart, it ~hould be noted so constricted as those of blood, and the first element is present in large
thac che violent agitacion of rhe heat which makes it expand not only enough quantities to produce light, the shade of red is different from that
causes some of the particles to move away and become separated, but of blood.
also causes others co gather; these press and bump aga inst one another As soon as the heart begins to form m this way, the rarelied blood
25~ and divide inro many excremely small strands which stay so close co one leaving it makes its way in a straight line in the direction of least
another that on ly the ve ry subtle matter (which J call ed the 'first clement' rcsis rance, vh. mwards t he region of the bod)' where the brain forms
in my Pri11ciples 1) can occupy rhe >paces left around them. 'The particles later on; and chc path taken by the blood begins to form rhe upper parr of :1.57

1 Stt Pri11ciples, Pan m. ~n-. si.. p. :.58 abovC". 1 Opt1es, pp. 1 nil Jl>O\'<; Principle.. Pan 1. an. H...;~; Alttrorology, O.sc. 8.
Description of the Human Body

1he great artery. Now, because of the resistance produced b)' the parts of
seminal material which it encounters, the blood docs not rravcl very far
Th e Passions of the Soul
111 a straight line withour being pushed back towards che heart along the
same parh by which it came. But it cannot return down rhis path, because
the way is bl ocked by 1he new blood which the heart is producing. T his
causes it to be deflected a little on its down ward path, to wards rhe side Translator's preface
oppos ite 10 that from which new material is entering the hea rt. T his is the
side where we shall afrcrwards find the spine. The blood makes its way by
1his route towards the area where the genital organs will be formed, and Descartes' last philosophical work wa~ written in French, printed in
1ha1 path which it rakes on its descent is the lower part of the greal Holland, and published in Amsterdam and Paris in 1649 under the title
arrery. But because the parts of the seminal material also exert pressure Les Passions de /'Ame.' The book's publica1ion in Paris seems to have
from chis side, they resist the movement of the blood; furthermore, the been arranged b)' a 'friend' whose anonymous letters, with Descartes'
heart continually sends new blood cowards the top and the bottom of this replies, forms its preface.
artery. So the blood is forced to make its way in a circular direction back Descarces composed the work largely at the urging of Prin cess
1owards the heart via rhe side farthest from the spine, where the chesr is Elizabeth of Bohemia (r6r 8-8o), nnd irs origi n can be traced in their
formed later o n. Tbe route wh ich 1he blood cakes in its return towards correspondence. Elizabe th first mentions the passio ns when, wondering
the heart is what we afierwards call the vena cava.' how tl1e soul can be governed by the body given thar rhey have nothing in
common , she asks Descartes to explain 'the manner of (the soul's] aetions
1 There follow details ol rh<: fu rther d.:vd opment ol the h<art ond of ili< lormauon of the: and passions in the body' (20 June 1643). Descanes' reply - that the
lungs and bram. Put s deals prrnap1lly with Ehe formation orrht- ..?tins and arteries. body causes the soul to have feeling> and passions, and the ~oul causes
the body to move, through an inexplicable 'union' between the sou l and
body- did not sati sfy the princess. Nor was she sarisfied when Descartes
so ught 10 answer her q uestion with vague moralizing and pracrical
advice for the control of the pass ions. Eventually she insisted thH he gi,e
'a defin ition of the passions, in order to make them well known' (t 3
September 1645). Descartes obliged by producing a little 'treatise on the
passions' which he gave co Elizabcrh in r 646. In the following yea r he
entered into correspondence with Queen Christina of Sweden (1626-89),
to whom he also sent a copy of the 'linle treatise', which reportedly she
read while hunting. T his treatise, possibly a draft of rhe firsr two pare.~ of
the published work, seems also to have been seen by Clcrsclicr, to whom
Descartes says, in a lener of 23 Apri l 1649, that he has been 'indolent in
revising it and in adding rhe things you thought lacking, which will
increase its length by a third '.
Invited to Swede n by Queen Christina, Descartes arrived in Stockholm
in October 1649, a month before publication of The Passio11s of the So11/.
Suffering from the rigours of the Swedish winter and the tedium of his
courtly duties (which included giving lessons to the Queen at five o'clock
in the morning), he contracted pneumonia and died in Stockholm on I I
February 16 50.
R.S.
1 'lhC' lrl111~l.1 1iun bdow follow' tht 1rx1 111 vohunc >:1 of Ad:un and T:tnncr)': set (;cncral
l 11 1tuduc.1u>1l, p. >c ..lh ll\'(',
Prefatory letrers

Prefatory letters to show it to certain other persons who would nor have made good u~c of
it. In fact I had composed it only to be read by a p rincess whose mental 3 24
powers are so extraordinary tha1 she can easily understand matrcr'
which seem very difficult to our learned doctors. So rhe only points I
explatned at length in it are 1hose I thought to be novel. Lest you should
doubt what l say, 1 promise to revise th is work on rhe passions and add
whatever I think necessary in order co make ir more intelligible; then I
sha ll send it ro you, and you 111ay do with it whatever you please. For I
am, etc.
!T he prcfocc co mp rises a 'Notice from a frie nd o f the author', two letrers Egmont, 4 December 1 64 II.
from the friend to Desca rtes, and Descartes' re plies co these lette rs. The
idemi ry of the friend is unknown: severa l suggestions have been made
(e.g. Clcrsclicr, Picot, and Descartes himself), but none has been conclu- (Jn rhe second letter, dated 23 July 1649, rhe fri end complain> thal he
sively established. In the 'Notice' the friend a~scrts that Descartes ser~t has not yet received the tre:uisc, and says that he is beginning to think
him the work and gave h im permission to add a preface and get it that Descartes promised co >end it only to prevent publication of his
pubhshed, and that he propose~ to make the preface consist simply o f previous letter. Here is Descartes' reply.)
hi s correspondence with Descartes since this concains ' many poinrs of
which I believe the public would wish to be informe d'. In bis fuse le11er, Sir,
dated Paris, 6 November r648, the friend complains about Descartes' You are determined to think that I have used an arr:ifice in order to
failure 10 show him the treatise on the passions when they mer in Pans prevent you from publishing Lhe long letter which you wrote to me las1
the previous summer. Reproaching Descarres for the 'negligence and yea r. 1 am quite innocent of this artifice; nor did .I have any need to use it.
other foults' w hich keep him from pursuing his scie111ific research as For a p are from the fact that 1do nor believe your letter could produce the
actively as he ought, rhe friend threatens ro publish the letter, so as to effect you claim, I am not so lazy that my desire to gain self-instruction
shame Descartes in to greater activity a nd encourage p ublic s upport for and to wri te something usefu l for other men cou ld be overpowe red by
his research. f-l ere is Descartes' reply. ) lcar of the work co which I wou ld be commi tted if 1 received from tbe
public the means of putting 1nan y observarions 1 to the test. I can nor make
ATXI Sir, excuses so easily for the negligence for which you blame me. For I confoss
313 Among the insu lts and reproaches which l find in the long letter you have that I have spent more time in revising the little treatise I am sending you
taken the trouble to write me, I observe many things to my advantage - than I bad previously spen t in co mposing ir. And yec I have added only a
so many, indeed, that if you had this letter publish ed, as you said you few things to it , and I h ave changed nothing in the style, whose simphcit)
would, I fea r it might be imagined that we were more closely associated and brevity will re1cal rhat my intention was 10 explain rhe passion only
than in fact we are, and rhat l had asked you to include things in the as a natural ph ilosopher, and nor as a rhetorician or even as a moral
letter which decency forbade me to utter in public myself. Thar is why I philosopher. Thus, I foresee that this treatise will fare less well than my
shall not pause here to reply poin1 by point. I ~hall merely give you two other writings. Though more people may perhaps be drawn by it~ title to
reasons which, I think, s hould prevcni )'OU from publishing rbis le11er. read it, yet only those who take the trouble to study it with care can
First, I do not believe you can possibl) achieve the a im wh ich I assume possibly be satisfied with it. Such as it is, then, I put it into your hands,
you had in wricing it. Second, my attitude is not at a ll what you imagine it etc.
to be. Jt is not indignatio n or disgust which prevents me from wishing co Egmo11t, I 4 A11g11st J 649 .
do everything in my power to serve the p ublic. For I consider myself
im lcb1cd to it for the favourab le receptio n w hic h many people have give n
lo the works I have al ready published. I have not previously shown you
my writings on the passions simply because I did not wish to be o bliged 1 Fr. experie11uJ; sec footnote. fl 14 ~ .11l<wc.

3:1.6
Part 011e

3. The rule 111e must fo/10111 i11 order to do this


\Y/e shall not find this very difficulc if we bear in mind that anyching we
experience as being in us, and which we sec can al so exisr in wholly
inanimate bodies, must be attributed only to our body. On the orl1er
hand, anything in us which we cannot conceive in any way as capable of
belonging 10 a body must be attribu t~>d to our soul.

PART ONE 4 . The heat a11d the movement of the limbs proceed from the body, a11d
thoughts from t/Je soul
327 The Passions in General Thu s, because we have no concepcion of the body as thinking in any way
<ll all, we ha1c reason to believe that every kind of thought present in us
and incidentally r/Je whole nature of man
belongs to the soul. And since we do not doubt that there are inanimate
I. What is a passion with regard to one subject is a/wars an acJio11 in bodies which can move in as many diffcrcm ways as our bodies, if not
some other regard more, and which have as much heat or more (as experience ~hows in the
The defeccs of tbe sciences we have from the ancients are nowhere more case of a flame, which has in itself much more heac and movement tban
appa rent chan in the ir writings on the passions. This topic, abom whi ch any of our li mbs), we muse believe chat all the heat and all the movements
knowledge h~1s alwa)'S been keenly sought, docs not seem to be one of che prese nt in us, in so far as they do nor depend on thought, belong solely to
more difficult to investiga re since everyone feels passions in himself and the body.
so has no need to look elsewhere for observarions to establish rheir
nature. And yet the teachings of the ancienrs abom the passions are so 5. It is a11 error to believe that the soul gives movement a11d heat to the 330
p . 8 meagre and for th e most part so implausible that I cannot hope ro body
approach the truch except by departing from che paths they have In this way we shall avoid a very serious error which many have fallen
followed. That is why I shnll be obliged to write just as if l were into, and which l rega rd as the primary cause of om failure up co now to
considering a topic that no one had dealt with before me. Jn th e first give a satisfactory explanation of the passions and of everything else
place, I note thac whatever takes place or occurs is general!)' ca lled by belo nging ro the sou l. The error consists in supposing that since dead
philosophers a 'passion' wirh regard to the subject to which it happens bodies are devoid of heat and movement, it is the absenc-~ of che soul
and an 'acrion' with regard to chat which makes it happen. Thus, which causes this cessation of movement and hear. Thus 1r has been
ahhough an agent and patient are often quite different, an action and believed, without justi6carion, that oi.. natural heat and all the move-
passion must always be a single thing which has tbese two names on ments of our bodies depend on the soul; whereas we ought to hold, oa
account of the two different subjects to which it may be related . the contrary, that the soul takes its leave when we die onl y because this
hctt ceases and the organs which bring abour bodily 111ovement decay.

i.. To 1111dersta11d the passio11s of the soul we must disti11guish its 6. The differe11ce bet111een a li11mg body and a dead body
fimctio11s from those of the body So as to avoid rhis error, let us nore that dearh never occurs through
Next I note that we are not aware of any subject which a'<s more directly the absence o f the soul, but o nly because one of the principal parts of
upon our soul than the body co which it is joined. Consequently we the body decays. And let us recognize that the difference between the
should recogni ze that what is a passion in the soul is usually an action in body of a living man and that of a dead man is just like the difference 33 1
th e body. Hence there is no bcuer way of coming to know about our between, on the one hand, a watch or orher auton1aton (that is, a
J>a\\ions than by examining the difference between th e sou l and the bod)', self-moving machine) when it is wound up and contains in itsdf the
111 order to learn to which of the two we should attribuce each of the corporeal principle of the movements for which it is designed, together
luot<ll<>n' prt'\t:nt in us. with everythi ng cl\c required for its operat ion; and, on the other hand, the
HO The Passio11s of the Soul Part 0 11e 331
same warch or machine when it is broken and the principle of irs 8. The pri11ciple 11nderlyi11g all t'1ese {1111ctio11s 333
movement ceases 10 be active. Bur it is not commonly known how these animal spirits and nerves help co
7. A brief acco11111 of the parts of the bodya11d of some of their produce movements and sensations, or what corpo rea l principle makes
fun ctions them act. That is why, alth o ugh .I have already touched upo n this
T o make thi s mo re intelligible I shall explain in a few words the way in q uesti on in other writings, I intend to speak briefly a bout it here. ' While
which the mechanism of ou r body is composed . Everyone knows that we nre a live rhere is a continual hea1 in ou r heam, which is a kind o f fire
withi n us rh erc is a heart, brain, stomach, muscles, nerves, arteries, veins, t hat ~he blood o~ the veins maintains there. This fi re is th e co rporeal
an d sim ilar things. We know too that t he food we eat goes down ro the pri nciple underlying all the movements of o ur limbs.
stomach and bowels, and thar its juice rhen flows into the liver and all the
veins, where it mixes with the blood they comain, rhus increasing irs 9. How the movement of the heart takes place
quantiry. Those who have heard a nyching ar all abour med icine know in Its first effecr is thac i1 makt'S che blood which fills the cavities of the
addition how the heart is consr ructed and how the blood in the veins ca n heart exp;ind. This causes che blood, no w needing 10 occupy a larger
flow easily fro m the vcna cava inco its right-hand side, pass from there space, co rush fro m the right-hand ca vity into the arterial vein and from
into che lungs ch rough the vessel called rhe arterial vein, then return fro m the left-hand cavity inco the grear artery. Then, when chis expansion
t he lungs imo the lefr-hand side of the heart throug h the vessel ca lled the ceases, fresh blood immediately e111ers the righr-hand cavi ty of the heart
venous artery, and finally pass from there inro the g reat artery, whose from the v.cna cava, and the left-h and cavity from th e venous artery. For
33:z. branches spread rhrough the whole body. Likewise all those not com there are tin y membranes at the entrances to these fou r vessels which are
plerely bli nded by the authority of the ancients, and willing to open their so arranged rhat the blood can enter the heart only th rough the latter two 334
C)'CS to examine the opinion of Harvey regarding the circulatio n of the and leave it only thro ugh the former two. When the new blood has
blood, do not doubt that the veins a nd arteries of the body are ltke encered rhc hean it is immedimely rarefied in the same way ao before.
streams through which the blood flows constanrly and with great This and this alone is what rhc pulse or beating of che hearr and a rteries
ra pidity. It makes its way from the righthand cavity of rbe hea rr through consists in, and it ex pla ins why the beari ng is repeaced each time new
the arterial vein, whose branches are spread rh roughout the lungs and bl ood en rcrs t he heart. It is also the sole cause of rh e movement of the
connected with those of tl1 e venous artery; and via this artery it passes blood, making it flow constanrly and very rapidly in al l the arteries and
from the lungs inro the left-hand side of the hea n . From there it goes into vei11s, so that it carries the hear it acq uires in the heart to all the o t her
the great artery, whose branches are spread th rough th e rest of the body parts of the body, and provides them wi th nourishment.
and connected with the branches of the vena cava, which carries the same
blood once again into the righr-hand cavity of the hearr . These rwo ro. Ho111 the animal spirits are produced in t'1e brain
cavities are thus like sluices rhrough which all the blood passes upon each Wha1 is, however, more worthy of consideration here is that all the mosr
complerc circuit it makes through rhe body. It is known, moreover, t hat lively. and finest parts of the blood, which have been rarefied by 1he
every movement of th e limbs depends on the muscles, which are opposed hear n t he hea rt, constantly ente r the cavities of chc brain in large
co each o rher in such a way thar when o ne of them becomes sho rter it num bers. What makes them go th ere rather than elsewhere is that all 1he
draws towards itscl f the part of the body to which it is attached, which blood leaving the he,1rt thro ugh the grea t artCr)' follows a di rect ro ute
si multaneously causes the muscle o pposed to it to lengthen. Then , if the towards t his place, and since not all this blood can enlcr there beca use
larrer happens to shon en at some o ther rirne, it makes the fo rmer the passa~es are to o narrow, o nly the most acti ve and fi nest parts pass
lengthen again, and d raws to wards itself the part to which they are mto 11 whi le the rest spread out in to the other regions of the bod y. Now
,machcd. Finally, ir i> known that all these movemenlS of che muscles, rhese very fine pans of the blood make up the animal spirits. For them to 335
,md likewise all sensat ions, depend on the nerves, which are like linle do this rhe only change rhey need to undergo in che brain i> to be
threads or tubes coming from rhe brain and containing, like 1he brain separated from the o ther less fine pans of che blood. For what I am
11,clf, a certain very finc 1 air or win d which is called the 'animal spiri ts'. calling 'spirits' here are merely bodies: they have no properry other than
1 h . sulnil; sc~ note- r, p. H (i above.
1 St..-e Discourse~ p:lrt ~, pp. J J 5-9 above.
The Passions of the Soul Part 011e 333

that of being extremely small bodies which move very quickly, like the their objects. l have already explained this quite fully in the Optics. 1 But
jecs of Oame that come from a torch. They never stop in any place, and as in order that readers of this work should not need co consult any other, I
some of them enter the brain'~ cav ities, others leave it through the pores shall say once again that there are 1hree things to consider in the nerves.
in its subsrance. These pores conduct them into the nerves, and then to First, there is the marrow, or internal substance, which extends in the
the muscles. In this way the animal spirits move rhe body in all the form of tiny fibres from the brain, where they originate, to the extremities
various ways it can be moved. of the pans of the body to which they are attached. Next, chere are the
membranes surrounding the fibres, which are continuous with those
surrounding the brain and form little tubes in which the fibres arc
ii. How t/Je movements of the m11scles take place enclosed. Finally, there are the animal spirits which, being carried by
For, as already memioned, rhe sole cause of all 1he movemenrs of rhe these tubc..-s from the brain to the muscles, cause the fibres to remain so
limbs is the shortening of cerrain muscles and 1he lengthening of rhe completely free and extended that if anything causes the slightest motion
opposed muscles. What causes one muscle 10 become shorter rather than in the part of the body where one of the fibres terminates, it thereby
its opposite is simpl y tha1 fractionally more spirits from the brain come causes a movement in the part of the brain where the fibre originates, just
to ir than 10 the other. Not cha1 rhc spirits which come directly from the as we make one end of a cord move by pulling the other end.
brain are sufficient by themselves to move the muscles; but they cause the
other spirits alrcad) in the two muscles to leave one of them very r 3.This action of extemal obiects may direct the spirits i11t.o the muscles
suddenly and pass imo the 01her. In this way the one they leave becomes in vario11s different u1ays
longer and more relaxed, and 1hc one they enter, being suddenly swollen l explained in the Optics l1ow rhe objects of sight make themselves
by them, becomes shorter and pulls the limb ro which it is arrachcd. This known to us simply by producing, th rough the medium of the intervening
is easy ro understand, provided one knows that very few animal spiritS transparent bodies, loca l motions in the optic nerve-fibres at the back of
come continu ally from the brain ro each muscle, and that any muscle our eyes, and then in rhe regions of the brain where these nerves
always comai ns a quantity of its own spirits. These move very quickly, origin:ne.l I exp l:tined too thar the objects prod uce as much variety in
someti mes merely eddying in the place where they are located (that is, these motions as they cause us w see in rhe things, and that it is not the
when they find no passages open for them to leave from), and sometimes motions occurring in the eye, bur those occurring in the brain, whi ch
flowing into the opposed mu scle. Jn each of the muscles there are small directly represent these objects to rhe soul. By this example, it is easy ro
openings through which the spirits may flow from one into the other, and conceive how sollnds, smells, tastes, heat, pain, hunger, th irst and, in
which are so arranged that when the spirits coming from the braio to one genera l, nil the objects both of our external senses and of our internal
of the muscles arc slightly more forceht l than those going to the ocher, appetites, a lso produce some movemen t in ou r nerves, which passes
they open all the passages ch rough which rhe spiri1s in the latter can pass through them inro the brain. Besides causing our soul to have various
into the former, and a1 the same time they close all the passages through different sensations, these variolls movements in the brain can also act
which the spirits in the former can pass into the latter. In chis way all the without the soul, causing the spirits to make their way to certain muscles
spirits previously contained in rhe two muscles are gathered very rapidly rather than others, and so causing chem to move our limbs. I shall prove
in one of them, thus making it swell and become shorter, while the other this here by one example only. If someone suddenly thrusts his hand in
lengthens and relaxes. front o f our eyes as if to strike us, then even if we know that he is our 339
friend, that he is doing this only in fun, and that he will take care not to
11.. How extema/ ob;ects act 11po11 t/Je sense organs harm us, we still find it difficult to prevent ourselves from dosing our
We still ha,,e to know what causes the spirirs nm to flow always in the eyes. This shows chat it is nm through the mediation of our soul that they
137 same way from the brain to the muscles, but 10 come sometimes more to dose, since this action is conrrary to our volition, which is the only, or at
some muscles t han to others. In our case, indeed, one of these causes is least the principal, activity of the soul. They dose rather because the
1hc .tc1ivity of the ;oul (a" I shall explain further on). But in addition we mechani sm of our body is so composed that the movement of the hand
llll"I nu1c 1wo 01hcr cau~cs, which depend sold) on the body. The first 1 Stt Optics, p. 16s ;ibov<', ind atso Tr~tis~ ''Man, pp. 1otft' above.
'"n'"" 111 difforcnct'\ in the mo\cmcnt~ produced in the sense organs by 1 S op11a, r ,67 aoov<.
334 The Passio11s of the Sottl Part One 335

cowards our eyes produces another movement in our brain, which directs may cause them to open some pores in tl1e brain more than others.
rhe animal spirits into the muscles thar make our eyelids drop. Conversely, when one of the pores is opened somewhat more or less than
u;ual by an action of the sensory nerves, this bri ngs about a change in the
r 4. Differences amo11g the spirits may also cause them to take various movement of rhc spirirs and directs them to che muscles wh ich serve to
differe11t courses move rhe body in the way it is usually moved on the occasion of such an
The other cause which serves to direct the animal spirirs to the muscles in actton. Thus every movement we make without any contribution from
various different ways is the unequal agitation of the spirits and our will - as often happens when we breathe, walk, cat and, inck..:d,
differences in their parts. For when some of their pans arc coarser and when we perform an) action which is common to us and the beast\ -
more agitated than others, they penetrate more deeply in a straight line depend> ;olcly on the arrangement of our limbs and on the route which H :z.
into the cavities and pores of the brain, and in this way they are directed the spirits, produced by the heat of the heart, follow naturally in the
to muscles other than rhosc to which they would go if rhey had less force. brain, nerves and muscles. This occurs in the same way as the move
cs. 'fhe ca11ses of these differences mem of a watch is produced merely by rhe strength of its spring and rhc
And this incqualiry may arise from rhe different materials of which the configurarion of irs wheels.
spi rits are composed. One sees this in the case of those who have drunk a
lot of wine: the vapours of rhe wine emer the blood rapidly and rise from c7. Tiu {1111ctio11s of t'1e so11I
the heart to the brain, where they turn into spi rits which, being stronger Having thus considered all the functions belonging solely to the body, it
and more abu ndant than rhose normally present there, are capable of is easy ro recognize rhat there is nothing in us which we must attribute to
moving the body in many strange ways. Such an inequa lity of the spi rits ou r soul except our rhoughrs. These are of rwo principal kinds, some
may also arise from vnrious con ditions of the heart, liver, st0mach, being actions of the soul and others its passions. Those l call its actions
spleen and all rbc other organs chat help to produce them. In this are all our volitions, for we experience them as proceeding di rectly from
connection we must fi rst note certain small nerves embedded in the base our sou l and as seeming to depend on it alone. On the other hand, the
of the hea rt, which serve to cnbrgc and contrat1 the openings to its various perceptio ns or modes of knowledge present in us may be ca lled
caviries, th us causing the blood, according to the st rength of irs expan its passions, in a general sense, for iris often not our sou l which makes
sion, t0 produce spiri ts having various diflerem dispos itions. It must also them such as they arc, and the soul always recei ves them from the th ings
be observed that even though the blood entering the heart comes there rhnt arc represented by them.
from every oth er place in the body, ir often happens nevenheless that it is
driven there more from some pans than from others, because the nerves
and muscles responsible for these parrs exert more pressure on ir or make r8 . T/Jewil/
it more agitaced. And d ifferences in rhcsc parts arc matched by corres Our volitions, in turn, :ire of two sons. One consists of the actions of the 34}
ponding differences in the expansion of the blood in the heart, which sou l which terminate in the smd itself, as when we will to love God or,
results in the production of spi rits having different qualities. Thus, for generally spea king, to apply our mind to some object wh ich is not
example, th e blood coming from the lower part of the li ver, where the material. The other consists of actions which terminare in our body, as
gall is located, expa nds in the heart in a different manner from the blood when our merely willing to walk has the consequence that our legs move
coming from the spleen; the larter expands differently from the blood and we walk.
coming from the veins of the arms or legs; and rhis expands differently
again from the alimentary juices when, jusr after leaving the stomach and
bowels, they pass rapidly to the heart through the liver. 19. Perceptio11
Our perceptions are likewise of two sorts: some ha\e the soul as their
r 6. Hotv all the limbs cat1 be moved by the objects of the se11ses and by cause, orhcrs the body. Those having rhe soul as their cause arc the
the spirrts 1v1tho11t the help of the soul perceprions of our volitions and of all the imaginings or other thoughts
l't11.11ly it must be observed that rhc mechanism of our body is so which depend on them. for it is certain that we cannot will anything
(urnpo,cd that all the ch:rngc> occurring in the movement of the spirits without thereby perceiving that we are willing it. And ahhougb willing
The Passions of the Soul Part One 337
something is an acrion with respca to our soul, the perception of such some to external objects which strike our scns<.-s, others to our body or to
willing may be said to be a passion in the soul. But because this cenain of its parts, and still others to our soul.
perception is really one and the sa me thing as the volition, and names arc
always determined by whatever is most noble, we do not normally c:tll it 23. "/11e perceptions rue refer to objects 011tside us )46
a 'passion', but solely an 'actio n' . The percep tions we refer ro th ings outside us, namely to t he objects of
o ur senses, are caused by these objects, at least when our judgements a re
344 10. /111agini11gs a11d other thoughts formed by the so11I not fa lse. For in that case the objects produce cenain movements in the
When our soul applies itself to imagine something non-existent - as in organs of rhc external senses and, by means of t he nerves, produce other
thinking about :111 enchanted palace or a chimera - and also when it movements in the brain, which cause the soul to have sensory perception
applies itself to consider something that is purely intelligible a nd not of che objects. Thus, when we see the light of a torch and hear the sound
imaginable - for example, in considering its own nature-the perceptions of a bell, the sound and the light arc two different actions which, simply
it has of these things depend chiefly on the volition which makes it aware by producing two different movements in some of our nerves, and
of them. That is why we usu ally regard these perceptions as accions rhrougli them in our brain, give to the soul two different sensations. And
rath er tha n passions. we refer these sensa tions to the subj ects we suppose to be their causes in
such a way that we think that we sec the torch itself a nd hear rhe bell, and
not that we have sensory pcrcq>1 ion merely of movements coming from
l.t. Imaginings 1vhich are caused solely b) the body these objects.
Among the perceptions caused by the body, most of them depend 011 rhe
nerves. But there are some which do not and which, like rhose I have just 24. 7111: perceptions rve refer to our body
described, arc called 'imaginings'. These differ from the others, however, The perception~ we refer to our body or to certain of its pans arc those of
in that our will is not used in forming them. Accordingly they cannot be hunger, thirst and other natural appetites. To these we may add pain,
numbered a mong the actions of the soul, for they arise simply from the heat and the other states we feel as being in our limbs, and not as being in 347
fact that the spirits, being agitated in va rio us different ways and coming objects outside us. T hus, at the same ti me a nd by means of the same
upon the traces of vari ous impressions whi ch have preced ed them in the nerves we ca n feel the cold of our hand and the heat of a nearby fla me o r,
345 brain, make their way by chance through certain pores rathe r than on the 0 1her hand, th e heat of our hand an d the cold of the air to which it
others. Such are rhe illusions of our d reams and also the day-dreams we is exposed. This happens without there being any d ifference between the
often have when we arc awake and our mind wanders idly without actions which make us feel the heat or cold in our hand and those which
applying it:self to anything of its own accord. Now some of rhcse make us feel the heat or cold oubide us, except that since one of these
imaginings are passions of the soul, taking the word 'passion' in its aaio~s succeeds the other, we judge that the first is already in us, and
proper and more exact sense, and all may be regarded as such if the word rhat ns successor is not yet rhere but in the objea which causes it.
is understood in a more general sense. Nonetheless, their cause is not so
co nspicuous and determi nate as th ar of the perceptions wh ich the soul l.5. The perceptions rve refer to our soul
receives by means of the ne rves, and they seem to be mere shadows and The perceptions we refer o n ly to the soul are those whose effects we feel
pictures of these perceptions. So before we c:rn characterize them as being in the sou l it.self, a nd for which we do not no rmall y know an y
satisfactorily we must consid er how these o tbe r perceptions differ from proximate cause to which we can refer them. Such arc the feelings of joy,
one another. anger and the like, which are aroused in us sometimes by tl1e objects
which stimulate our nerves and sometimes also by other causes. Now all
our percep tions, both those we refer to objects outside us and those we
u. Horv these other perceptions differ from 011e a11other refer to the various states of our body, arc indeed passions with respect to
All the perceptions which l have not yer explained come to rhe soul by our soul, so long as we use the term 'passion' in its most general sense; 34 g
mc.111~ of the nerves. They differ from one another in so far as we refer ncverrhcle~~ we us uall y rctrict rhc term to sign ify only perceptiom which
The Passio11s of the Soul Part 0 11e 339

refer co chc soul itself. And it is only the latter that 1 have undertaken to we refer particularl y to at, and which are caused, maintained and
explain here under the tide 'passions of the soul'.' strengthened by some movement of the spirits.

2.6. T/Jt imaginings which depend solely 0 11 tht fortuitous movement of 28. Expla11atio11 of the first part of this defi11itio11
the spirits may be passio11s just as truly as the perceptions whid1 \YJe may call them 'percepttons' if we use this term generally to signi fy all
depe11d 011 tbe 11erves the thoughts which arc not actions of rhe soul or \'olitions, bu1 no! if we
Jc remains to be noted that e'erything the soul perceives by mea ns of the use it to signify only evide11t knowledge. For experience shows that those
nerves may also be represented to it through the formitous course of the who arc the most strongly agitated by their passions are not those who
spirits. The sole difference is th at the impressions which come inro the know them best, and th:1t the passions a re co be numbered among th e
brnin thro ugh che nerves are normally more lively and more defini te than pe rcepti ons which rhe close :1 lli ~ncc between rhe soul and the body
th ose produced there by the spidts- a foct rhat led me to say in article 2x renders confused and ol>scurc. We may also e<ill chem 'sensations',
th al the latter are, as it were, a shadow or picrure of the former. We must because they are received in to th e soul in the same way as the objects of
also noce that this picture is sometimes so similar ro the thi ng it the external senses, and chcy arc no t known by the soul any differently.
rep rc1;Cnts that it may mislead us regarding the percept ions which refer to But it is e\'en better 10 call them 'emotions' of the soul, not only because
objects ou tside us, or e\'en regarding those which refer ro certain parts of rhis ccrm may be appl ied to :111 the changes which occur in the soul - th:1r
our body. But we cannot be misled in the same way regarding the is, to all the variou~ thoughrs which come co it - bur more particularlr
p:1ssions, in that they are so close and >O internal to our soul rhat it because, of all the kinds of thought which che soul may have, there arc
cannot possibly feel them unless the)' are m1ly as it feels them to be. Thus none that agitate and d1s1urb it so strongly as the passions.
349 often when we sleep, and sometime\ even when we are awake, we
imagine certain things so vividly t hat "e think we see them before us, or :i.9. Expla11atio11 of the other parr of r'1e definitio11
feel rhcm in ou r body, although they are not there at all. But even if we I add that thei refer pa rticularly to the sou l, in order to distinguish them
are asleep and dreaming, we canno t foci sad, or moved by any other from other seosations, some referred m external o bjects (e.g. ~mells,
passion, unless the sou l truly has this passion within it. sounds and colours) and others to our body (e.g. hunger, thirst and pain).
I also add that they arc caused, main tained and strengthened by some
2.7. Definition of the passions of the soul movement of the spirits, both in order to distinguish them from o ur
Mier havi ng considered in what respects the p:1ssions of the soul diffe,. volitions (for these too may be cal led 'emo1io ns of the soul wbicb refer to
from a ll its other thoughts, ii seems to me that we may define them it', but they are caused by the soul itself), and also in order to expla in
gene rally as those perceptions, sensa tions or emotions of the soul which their ultimate and most proximate ca use, which distinguishes them once
agai n from other sensations.
1 Th< cbss1ficauon giv~n in aniclts 17-i 5 mar bt rcpresc-ntcd schcm3t1C'3lly as follo\\'S:
Thoughts - utions of the- ~I ("olmons ::iod \olunruy imaginings) 30. The soul is 1111ited to all the parts of the body co11;ointly 35 c
'-.,!17) But in order to underst:ind all 1hcse things more perfectly, we need 10
" ' passt0ns of th~ soul in gmer-J1 ~a"I.~ (prrceptK>M} recognize chat the soul is really joined to the whole body, and that we
cannot properly say chat it e~ i~ts in any one pare of the body to the
/ ( 19)~
exclusion of the others. For t he body is a unity which is in a sense
c:iused by th soul w11td hy the hod)' indivisible because of the arrangement of irs organs, these being so
(~rccpnon of volirion) ~ (2 1) " " ' related t o one another that the removal of any one of them renders chc
neurJI non-neural whole body defective. And the soul is of such a nature that ic ha s no
~ I "-- (im:iginings) relation to extension, or to lhc dimensions or other properti es of the
~ ref. w tioi.I)' ~ matter of which the body is composed: it is related solely to the whole
rd. 10 e.'<r. obj. (24) rd. to ~oul assemblage of the body'> orga ns . This is obvious from ou r inability to
(.U) (f'l''"on~in restrictt."d sen-.e}
(2 1) conceive of a half or a third of :1 sou l, or of the extension which a sou l
The Passions of the Soul Part One 341

occupies. Nor does the soul become any smaller if we cut off some part of easy to see that the on ly reason why this change is felt as occmring in the
the body, but it becomes completely separate from the body when we heart is that there is a small nerve which descends to it from tbe brain -
break up the assemblage of the body's organs. just as pain is felt as in the foot by means of cite nerves in tbe foot, and rhe
stars are perceived as in the sky by means of their light and the optic
3 i. There is a little gland' in the brain where the soul exercises its nerves. Thus it is no more necessary that our soul should exercise its 354
fu11ctions more particularly than in the other parts of the body functions d irectly in the heart in order to feel its passions there, than that
We need to recognize also that although the soul is joined to the whole it should be in the sky i11 order co see the stars there.
3 52. body, nevertbc lcss there is a certain part of the bndy where it exercises its
functions more particularly than in all the others. It is commonly held 34. How the soul and the body act on each other
that this pare is the brain, or perhaps the heart - the brain beca use the let us therefore take it that the soul has its principal seat in the small
sense organs are related to it, and the heart because we feel the passions gland located in the middle of the brain. From there it radi ates through
as if they were in it. But on carefu lly examining the matter I think l have the rest of the body by means of the animal spirits, the nerves, and even
clearly established that the part of the body in which the soul directly the blood, which can take on the impressions of the spirits and carry
exercises its functions is not the heart at all, or the whole of the brain. lt is them through the arteries to all the limbs. let us recall what we said
rather tbe innermost part of the brain, which is a certain very small gland previously about the mechanism of om body. The nerve-fibres are so
situated in the middle of the brain's substance and suspended above the d istributed in all the parts of the bod)' that when the objects of the senses
passage through which the spirits in che brain's anterior cav ities com- produce various different movements in these parts, the fibres are
municate with those in its posterior cav ities. The slightest movements on occasioned to open the pores of the brain io various different ways. This,
the part of this gland may alter very greatly the course of these spirits, in turo, causes the animal spirits contained in these cavities to enter the
and conversely any change, however slight, raking place in the course of muscles in various different ways. In this manner the spirics can move che
the spirits may do much co change the movemeins of the gland. limbs in all the different ways they are capable of being moved. And all
the other causes that can move the spirits in differem ways are sufficient
:; 1.. How rue know that this gland is the principal seat of the sou/ to direct them into d ifferent muscles . To this we may now add that the
Apart from this gland, there cannot be any other place in the whole body small gland which is the principal seat of the soul is suspended within the
where the soul directly exercises its functions. I am convinced of tl1is by cavities containing these spirits, so that it can be moved by them in as 355
353 the observation that all the other parts of our brain are double, as also many different ways as there are perceprible differences in the objects.
arc all the organs of our external senses - eyes, hands, cars and so on. But But it can also be moved in various different ways by the soul, whose
in so far as we have only one simple thought about a given object at any nature is such that it receives as many different impressions - that is, it
one time, there must necessa rily be some place where the two images has as many different perceptions as there occur different movements in
com ing through the two eyes, or the rwo impressions coming from a this gland. And conversely, the mechanism of our body is so con-
single object through the double organs of any other sense, can come structed that simply by this gland's being moved in any way by the sou l
together in a single image or impression before reaching the soul, so that or by any other cause, it drives the surrounding spirits towards the pores
they do not present t0 it two objects instead of one. \Y/e can easil y of the brain, which direct them through the nerves to the muscles; and in
un.d erstand that these images or other impressions are unified in this this way the gland makes the spirits move the limbs.
gland by means of the spirits which fill the cavities of the brain. But they
cannot exist united in this way in any other place in the body except as a 3 5. Example of the way in which the impressions ofobjects are united in
result of their being united in this gland. the gland in the middle of the brain
Thus, for example, if we see some animal approaching us, the light
3 3. The seat of the passions is notin the heart reflected from its body forms two images, one in each of our eyes; ~nd
As for the opinion of rbose who think that the soul receives its passions in these images form two others, by means of the optic nerves, on the
the heart, this is not worth serious consi.deration, since it is based solely intcnial surface of the brain facing its cavities. Then, by means of the
011 the fact thm the passions make us feel some change in the bean. It is spirit s that fill these c3vities, the images radiate towards the little gland
1 The pinc~1 I gl:md ; \CC TrMtisr cm Mau. p. 1oo above. which the spirits su rround: the movement forming each point of one of
The Passions of the Soul Part One }43

the images tends towards the same point on the gland as the movement enters the soul, so too the mere fact that some spiri ts at the same time
forming the corresponding point of t:he other image, which represents the proceed to the nerves which ser"e to move the legs in flight causes
same part of the animal. In this way, the rwo images in the brain fonn another movement 111 the gland through which the soul feels and
onlr one image on the gland, which :m:s directly upon the soul and makes pera:ives th is action. In chis way, then, the body may be moved ro cake
it sec the shape of the animal. flight by the mere disposition of the organs, without any contribution
from the soul.
36. Example of the 1uay in which the passions are aroused in the soul
If, in add ition, this shape is very strange and terrifying-that is, if it has a 39. How one and the some cause may excite different passions in
close relation to things which have previously been harmful to cbe body - different people
this aro uses the passion of anxiety in the soul, and then that of courage or T he same impression whi ch the presence of a terrifying object forms 011
perhaps fear and terror, depending upon the pa rt icular temperament of the gland, and which causes fea r in some people, may excite courage and
the body or che strength of tbe soul, and upon whether we have protected boldness in others. The rc:1son for this is that brains arc not all
ourselves previously by defence or by flight against the harmful things to constituted in the sa me way. Thus the very same moveme nt of the gla nd
which the present impression is related. Thus in certain persons these which in some excites fear, in others causes the spirits to enter the po res
fa,'tors dispose their brain in such a way that some of the spirits reflected of the brain which direct them partly inro nerves which serve to move the
from the image formed on the gland proceed from there to t:he nerves hands in self-defence and pattly into those which agitate t:hc blood and 359
which .erve 10 turn the back and move the legs in order to flee. The rest drive ir towards the heart in the manner required to produce spirits
o f rhe spirirs go ro nerves which expand or constrict the orifices of the appropriate for continuing this defence and for maintaining the will to do
heart, or else 10 nerves which agirace other pans of the body from which so.
blood is sent 10 the heart, so that the blood is rarefied in a different
157 man ner from usual and spirits are sent co the brain which are adapted for 40. The pri11cipal effect of the passio11s
maintaining and strengthening th e passion of fea r - that is, for holding For it must be observed that rhe principal effect of all rhe human pas>ions
open o r re-opening the pores of the brain which direct the spirits into is thar they move and dispose the soul to want the things for whicl1 they
these same nerves. For mere ly by enccdng into these pores they produce prepare the body. Thu s the feeling of feM moves the soul to want to flee,
in che gland a particular movement wbich is ordained by narure to make that of cou rage to want to light, and similarly with the others.
the soul feel this passion. And since t hese po res arc related mainly to the
little nerves which serve to contract or expand the orifices of the heart, 4 t . The power of the soul with respect to the body
this makes the soul feel the passion chiefly as if it were in the heart. But the will is by its nature so free that it can never be constrained. Of the
37. Hott1 all the passions appear to be caused by some movement of the two kinds of thought I have distinguished in the soul - the fir~t its
spirits actions, i.e. ics volitions, and the second its passions, taking this word in
Something similar happens with all the other passions. That is, they are its most general sense to include every kind of perception - rhe former arc
caused chiefly by the spirits contained in the ca"iries of the brain making absolutely within its power and can be changed only indirectly by the
their way to ner"es which serve to expand or constrict the orifices of the body, whereas the latter are absolutely dependent on the actions which
heart, or co drive blood towards the heart in a distinctive way from other produce them, and can be changed by rhe soul only indirectly, except
pam of the body, or to maintain the passion in some other way. This when it is itself their cause. And the activity of the soul consists entirely in
makes it clea r why I included in my definition of the passions that they the fact that simp ly by willing something it brings it about that the little
.ire cau ~ed by some particular movement of the sp irits. gland to which ic is closely joined moves in the manner required lO
prod uce t he effect co1rcsponding to this volition.
11 H 1H. l'-.:11111ple of movements of the body which accompany the passions
1111d i/111101 dce/1(1011 tbe soul 4:1.. l lo111 we find i11 our memory the things we 111ant to remember
llli11t'<l"t'r, j11'! a> the course whid1 cite , pi rit> cake to the nerves of the Thus, when the soul want~ t<> remember something, this volition makes
h1,111 ,1111;,~., to induce a movement 111 the j\la nd through which fea r the gland lean first to o ne side and then to another, thus driving the
H4 The Passions of the Sot~/ Part 011e 345

spirits towards different regions of the brain until they come upon the the words which follow upon these movemenrs, rarher than with the
one containing traces left by the object we want to remember. These movements themselves.
traces consist simply in the fact that che pores of the brain through which
th e spirits previously ma de thei r way owi ng to the presence of this object 4 5. The po111er of the soul with respect to its passions
have thereby become more apt than the oth ers to be opened in t he same O ur passions, too, can not be direct!) aroused or s uppressed by the action
way when the spirits again flow wward s them. And so th e spirits enter of our wi ll , bu t only indirectly th ro ugh the rep resentat ion o f th ings wh ich
into these pores more easily when they come upon them, thereby are usually joi ned w ith rhc passions we wish to have and opposed to the 363
producing in the gland that s pecial movement which represents the same passio ns we wish to rejecr. For example, in o rder to arouse boldness a nd
object ro the soul, and makes it recognize the object as the one it wanred suppress fear in ourselves, iris not sufficient tO have the vol irion to do w.
to remember. \Ve must apply ourselves to consider the reasons, objecrs, or precedents
which persuade u s that the danger is not great; that there is always more
;61 43. Ho111the so11/ can imagine, be atte11tiue, and moue the body secu rity in defence than in flight; that we sha ll gain glory and joy if we
When we wam to imagine ~omething we have never seen, th is volition conquer, whereas we can expect nothing but regret and shame if we flee;
has the power to m ake rhe gland move in th e way required for driving the and so o n.
spiri ts to wards the po res of the b rain w hose ope ning enab les the thing to
be rep resented. Again, wbcn we wan t to fix our :m ention for some time 46 . What prevents the soul from havi11g full control over its passio11s
on some particular objecr, this volition keeps the gland leaning in one There is one special reaso n why rhe sou l cannot readil y thange or
particular direction during that time. And finally, when we want to walk suspend irs passions, w hich is what led me to say in my d cfinicion that the
or move our body in some other way, this volition makes the gland drive passions are not only caused but also maintained and strengthened by
the spirits to the muscles which serve to bring about this effect. some particular movement of the spirits. The reason is chat they a re
nearly a ll accompanied by som e disturbance wb ich takes place in the
44. Each volition is naturally joined to some movement of the gland, but heart a nd consequently a lso throughout the blood and the animal ~pirits.
througl1 effort or /111/Ji1111e may join it to others Until this d is turbance ceases t hey remain present to our mind in the same
Yer our voli tio n to prod uce some particular movement o r other effect way as the objects o f the senses arc present to it while they a rc acting
docs not a lways result in our producing it; for that depends on rhe upon our sense organs . The sou l can prevent itself from hearing a sligh t
various ways in which na tu re or habit has joined certa in movements of noise or feeli ng a sligh t pa in by mending very closely to some other 364
the g land to certain thoughts. For example, if we want to adjust our eyes thing, but it cannot in the same way prevent itself from hearing thunder
}6:z. to look at a far-distant object, this volition cames the pupils to grow o r feeling a fire that burns the hand. Likewise it can easily overcome the
larger; and if we want to adjust them ro look at a very near object, this lesser passions, b ut not the stronger and more ' 'iolenr o nes, except after
volition makes th e pupils contract. Bm if we think only of enlarging the tbe disturbance of the blood and ;,pirits has died down. The most the will
pupils, we may indeed h ave such a volition , but we do noc thereby can do w h ile this distu rbance is at its full strength is n ot to yield to its
enlarge th em. For che movement of the g land, whereby rhc spirits effects an<l to inh ib it many of the movements t0 w h ich it disp oses the
arc d riven to the Optic nerve in rhe way required for enla rging or body. For example, if ange r causes rhe haud m rise to strike a blow, (he
co ntracting the pupils, has been joined by narure with rhc volition ro look w ill can usua ll y restrain it; if fear moves the legs in flight, the will can
ti! distant or nearby objects, rather rhan with the volition to enlarge or stop them; and similarly in ocher cases.
~ontract the pupi ls. Again, when we speak, we chin k o nlr of the meaning
of what we wam ro say, and this makes us move our tongue and lips 47. Tbe co11{/icts that are usually supposed to occur between the lower
much more read ily and effectively than if we thought of moving them in /J11rt and the bigher part of the soul
.tll th~ ways required for uuermg the same word>. For the habits acquired All the confl1c c-, u~ually supposed to occur between the lower parr of the
111 k.1rn111g to ; pc,1k have made u; join the action o f the sou l (which, by sou l, which we call 'sensitive', and the higher or 'rational' part of the soul
"" ""of the gland, can move the tongue and hps) with the meaning of - or between the n;itural appeti te' :ind 1hc will - co nsist si111p ly in the
The Passions of the Soul Part 011e 347

opposmon between the movements which the body (by means of its which serve to move our legs in flight, while the will co be bold stops
spirits) and the soul (by means of its will) tend to produce at the same them from moving.
time in the g.land. For there is within us but one soul, and this sou l has
within it no diversity of parts: it is at once sensitive and ra tional too, and 4 8. J-10111111e recognize the strength or 111eak11ess of souls, and what is
all its appetites arc voli tions. le is an error to identify the different ttJrong ttJith the ttJeakest souls
functions of che soul with persons who play differe nt, usually murnally It is by success in these co nflicts thar each person can recognize rhc
365 o pposed roles - an error which arises simply from our failure to strength or weakness of his soul. For undoubtedl y the strongc.r souls 36 7
distinguish properly the functions of the soul from those of rhe body. le is belong to those in whom the will by nature can most easi ly conquer the
to the body alone that we should attribute el'erything that can be passions and stop the bodily movements which accompany them. But
observed in us to oppose our reason. So there is no conOict here e><cept in there are some who can nevcr rest rhe strength of chcir will because they
so far as che little gland in the middle of the brain can be pushed to one never equip it to fight with its proper weapons, giving it instead only the
side by the soul and to the other side by the animal spirits (which, as I weapons which some passions provide for resisting other passions. What
said above, are norhing but bodies), and these two impulses often happen I call its 'proper' weapons are firm and determi nate judgements bearing
co be opposed, t he stronger cancelling the effect of the weaker. Now we upo n the know ledge of good and evil, which the soul has resolved to
may distinguish two kinds of movement produced in the gland by the follow in guiding its conducr. T he weakest souls of all arc those whose
spirits. Movements of the first kind represent to rhe soul the o bjects will is not dete rmined in chis way ro follow such judgemenrs, but
which stimulate the senses, or the impressions occurring in the brain; and constantly allows itself ro be carried away by present passions. T he
these have no influence on the will. Movements of tbe second kind, which latter, being often opposed ro one another, pull the will Jim to one side
do have an influence on the will, cause the passions or the bodily and t hen to the other, thus making it battle against icself and so putting
movcmcnrs which accompany the passions. As to the 6rst, although they the soul in the most deplorable srate possible. Thus, when fc.ir represents
often hinder the actions of the soul, o r are hindered by them, yet since death as an exueme evil which can be avoided only by night, while
they arc not directly opposed co rhese actions, we observe no conflict ambition on the other hand depicts the dishonour of nighr as an evil
between them. We observe conllicr only between movements of the worse than death, rhese two passions jostle tbe will in opposite ways; and
second kind and the volitions which oppose rhcm - for example, between sin ce the wi ll obeys firsc the one and rhcn rhe other, it is continually
th e force with which rhe spirits push the gland sons to cause the soul ro op posed to itself, and so it ren ders the soul enslaved and 111iserable.
desire somet hing, and rhe force with which the soul, by its volition to
avoid this thing, pushes rhe gland in a contrary direction. Such a conflict 49. The strength of the soul is inadequate without k11ow/edge of tl1e
is revealed chiefly chrough the fact that the will, lacking the power co tmth
;66 produce che passions direct!)' (as I have already said), is compelled to It is rrue that "ery few people arc so weak and irresolute that they choose
make an effort co consider a series of different chings, and if one of them only what their passion dictates. Most have some determinate judge- J68
happens to have rhe power to change for a moment the course of the mencs which they follow in regulating some of their actions. Often rhese
spirits, the next one may happen to lack rhis power, whereupon the judgements arc false and based on passions by which the will has
spi rits will immediarcly rcl'ert to rhe same course because l'lO change has previously allowed irself to be conquered or led ast ray; but because the
occurred in the sta re of the nerves, heart and blood. Th is makes the soul will contin ues to follow rhcm whe n the passion which caused them is
feel itself impel led, almost at o ne and th e same rime, to desire and noc to absent, they may be considered its proper weapons, and we may judge
desire one and rhe same thing; and t hat is why it has been thought chat souls to be stronger or weaker according to thei r ability to fol low these
the soul has within it two conflicting powers. We may, however, judgements more or less closely and resist t11e present passions which are
.1cknowlcdge a kind o( conOict, in so far as the same cause that produces opposed ro them. There is, however, a great difference between the
.1 ccrrnin passion in the soul often also produces certain movements in the resolutions which proceed from some false opinion and those which are
hody, to which the soul makes no contribution and which the soul scops based solely on knowledge of the truth. For, anyone who follows the
"' tric' to stop as ;oon as it perceives chem. We experience th is when latter is assured of never regrening or repenting, whereas we always
1111 ohJl'Ct that excite> rear til~o causes the spirits to enter the muscles regret hnvin!l followed the former when we discover our error.
The Passions of the Soul

50. There is 110 soul so weak that it ca1111ot, if well-directed, aa,11ire a11
absolute power over its passions
Ir is useful to norc here, as already mcnuoned above, 1 chat alchough
narure seems to have joined every movement of the gland to certain of
our rhoughcs from the beginni ng o( ou r hfc, yet we may join them co
369 others through habit. Experience shows this in the case of la nguage.
Words produce in the gland movements which are orda ined by nature to
represent to the soul o nly the sounds of their syll ahles when chey are PART TWO
spoken or the shape of their lectcrs when they are writte n, because we
have ~cqui red the habit of ch inking of chis meaning when we hear them The Number and Order of the Passions 37 1
spoken o r sec them written. It is also useful to note that althoug h the
a11d explanation of tbe six primitive passio11s
movements (both of the gland and of the spi rits and the brain ) which
represent certain objects to the soul are naturally joined to the move- si. The primary causes of t/Je fJassions
ments which produce certain passions in it, yet through habit the former From what has been said above we know that the ultima te and mos t
can be separated from the latter and joined to others which are very proximate cause of the passions of the soul is simply the agitation by
different. lndcro this habit can be acq111red by a single action and does which the spirits move rhe linle gland in the middle of chc brain. But this
not require lo ng practice. Thus, when we unexpectedly come upon does not enable us to distinguish between the various passions: for 1hat,
something very foul in a dish we are caring wi1h relish, our surprise may we must investigate 1heir origins and examine 1heir firs1 causes. They may
so change the disposition of our brain tha1 we cannot af1erwards look sometimes be caused by an action of the soul when it sets Itself to
upon any such food without repulsion, whereas previously we ate it with conceive some ob1ect or 01hcr, o r by the mere temperament o( the body
pleasure. And the same may be observed in animals. for although they o r by the impressions which happen to be present in the brain, as when 371
lac k reason, and perhaps even thought, all the movements of the spirits we feel sad o r joyful without being :1ble to say why. From what has been
and of the g land which produce passions in us arc nevertheless present in said, however, it appears th at nil such passions may also be excited by
them too, tho ugh in chem they se rve to ma inta in and strengthen only t he objects which stim ul ate the senses, and that these objects are their
370 movements of the nerves and the muscles which us ually accompany the principal and most co mmon causes. From chis it follows that, in o rder to
passions and not, as in us, the passions themselves. So when a dog sees a d iscover all the passions, it suffices 10 consider all the effects of 1hese
partridge, it is nacurally disposed to run towards it; and when ir hears a objects.
g11n Ii red, the noise narurally impels it ro run away. Nevertheless, seners
are commonly trained so that che sigh1 of a partridge makes rhem stop, 5 2.. Tbe function of the passions, a11d ho111 tbey may be e1111111erated
and 1he noise they hear afterwards, when someone fires at the bird, I observe, moreover, thar 1he objects which srinmlare the senses do not
makes t hem run towards it. These rhings are worth noting in order to cxci1e different passions in us beca use of differences in the objects, bu1
encourage each of 11s to make a point of conirolling our passions. For only because of the various ways in which they may harm or benefit us,
since we arc able, with a liu le effort, to change the movemenis of the o r in general have importance for us. The function of all the passions
brain in animals devoid of reason, it io evident that we can do so still consists solely in this, 1hat t hey dispose our soul to wani the things which
more effectively in 1he case of men. Even those who have the weakest oaiure deems useful for us, and to persist in this volition; and the same
souls could acquire absolute mas1ery over all t heir passions if we agitation of the spirits which normally causes the passions also disposes
employed sufficient ingenuity in training and guiding them. the body to make movemen ts which help us to attain these things. Th:it is
w hy an enumeration of the passions requires only an orderly cxami na
r An. 44, p. H'1 above. tion of all rhe va rions ways having importance for us in which our senses
cnn be stimulated by rhcir o bjects. And I shall now enumerate all the
principal passions according to the order in which they may rh us be
found.
H9
The Passions of the Soul Part Two 3P

)73 T HE ORDER AND ENUMERATION OF THE PASS IONS But when we go bc)ond th is and consider whether there is much or little
prospect of our getting what we desire, then whatever points to the
53. \Y/onder former excites hope in us, anti whatever points to the latter excites
When our first encounrer with some object surprises us and we find it
anxiety (of which jealousy is one variety). When hope is cxrrcmc, it
novel, or very differenr from what we formerly knew or from what we
changes its nature and is called 'confidence' or 'assurance' just as, on the
supposed it o ught to be, this causes us to wonder and to he astonished at
other hand, extreme anxiery becomes despair.
it. Since all this may happen before we know whether or nor the object is
beneficial to us, l regard wonder as the first of all the passions. k has no 59. Irresolution, courage, boldness, em11/ation, timidity a11d terror
opposite, for, if the object before us has no characteristics that surprise Th us we may hope and fear, even though rhe expected outcome does not
us, we arc nor moved by it ar all and we consider it without passion. depend on us at all. But when we chink of it as dependent on us we may 376
have some difficulty in deciding upon the means or io putting chem into
54. Esteem and contempt, ge11erosity or pride, a11d humility or effect. The first difficulty gives rise to irresolution, which makes us
abjectness disposed to deliberate and take advice; the second is opposed by courage
Wonder is joined to either esteem or contempt, depending on whether we or boldne.ss, of which emulation is one variety. And timidity is
wonder at the value of an object or at its insignificance. Thus we may contrary co courage, as fear or terror is to boldness.
374 have esteem or contempt for ourselves; this gives rise to the passions of
magnanimiry or vanity and humility or abjectness, and then to the 60. Remorse
corresponding habits. If we decide upon some course of action before the irresolution has
ceased, this causes remorse of conscience to arise. Unlike the preceding
5 5. Veneration and scorn passion s, remorse docs not concern the time to come, bur rather the
Bur when our esteem or contempt is directed upon some otber object that present or the past.
we regard as a free cause capable of doing good and evil, esteem becomes
veneration and simple contempt becomes scorn. 6 r. joy a11d sadness
Consideration of a present good atouses joy in us, and consideration of a
56. Love a11d hatred present evil arouses sadness, when the good or evil is one chat we regard
All the preceding passions may be prod uced in us without our perceiving as belonging to us.
in any way whedier the object causing them is good or evil. Bue when we
think of someth ing as good with regard to us, i.e. as beneficial co us, this 62. Derisio11, envy, pity
makes us have love for it; and when we think of it as evi l or harmful, this But when we think of the good or evil as belonging to other people, we
arouses hatred in us. may judge them worthy or unworth)' of it. When we judge them worthy 377
of it, chat acouscs in us solely the passion of joy, in so far as we get some
57. Desire benefit from seeing things happen as they ought; and the joy aroused in
This same consideration of good and evil is the origin of all the ocher the case of a good differs from that aroused in the case of an evil only in
passions. But in order to put chem in order l shall take time into account; chat the former is serious whereas the latter is accompanied by laughter
)75 and seeing that they lead us to look much more to the future than to the and derision. But if we judge the others unworthy of the good or evil, in
present or the past, 1 begin with desire. for it is obvious that this passion the former case envy is aroused a11d in rhe latter case pity-envy and pity
always concerns the future. This holds in every case involving desire- not being species of sadness. And it should be observed chat the same
only when we desire to acquire a good which we do not yet possess or to passions which relate to present goods or evils may often also be related
avoid an evil which we judge may occur, but also when we merely wish to those which a.re )'Ct to come, in so far as we think of a good or evil as if
for the preservation of a good or the absence of an evil. it were present when we judge that it will come about.

~ H. I i<l/>e, a11xicty, jea/011sy, co11fidence and despllir 63. Sel(sotis(aclion alld repentance
\Vfr .ll'c prompted to desire the acquisition of a good or the avoidance of We may also consider the cause of a good or evil , present as well as past.
1111 1vil 'imply if we think it possib le to acquire the good or avoid the evil. A good done by ou rsclvcs give> us an interna l s~tisfac1ion, which is the
The Passions of the So11/ Parr Two 35}

~wcctest of all the passions, whereas an evi l p roduces repentance, which distinguish many other more specific ones - indeed an unlimited number
is the most bitter. of them.

64. Favo11ra11dgratitude 69. There are only six primitive passiom ;80
But a good done by ochers causes us co regard them with favour, even if it But the number of those which are simple and p rimitive is not very large.
was not d one to us; and if it was done to us then we join gratitu de to the Indeed, in reviewing all those I have enumerated, we can ea>il )' s~-c t~int
favour. rhere are onl)' six of this ki nd - namely, wonder, love, hatred, desire, 1oy
and sadness. All che othe rs are either composed from some of these six or
6 5. J11dig11atio11 and anger they arc species of them. T hnt is why, to ensu re that read.ers nrc. ~ot
Jn the same way, an evil done by others and having no relation to us confused bv the mult iplicity of 1h c p <lssions, I shall creat the six prim1t 1vc
merely ca uses us to feel indignation towards tbem; and when it is related passions separately, a nd then I shall show how all the ochers originate in
to us, it stirs up anger as well. them.

66. Pride and shame 70. \Ylonder: its definition all/I cause
Further, a good or evil which is in u~, or which h as been in us, produ~es Wonder is a sudden surprise of the soul which brings it to consider with
pride or shame respecchely, when it is related to the opi nion which artention the objects that seem to ic unusual and extraordinary. It has
ochers may have of it. two causes: first, an impression in 1he brain, which representS t~e
objea as something unusual and consequenrly worthy o f special
67. Disgust, regret and cheerf11lmss consideration; and secondly, a movement of che spi rits, which the
Sometimes rhe persistence of the good causes boredom o r d isgust, impression disposes both to Oow wilh grl!at force to the place in the brain
whereas that of the evil diminishes sadness. Finally, a past good gives rise where it is located so as to strength en and preserve it there, and also co 38r
to regret, w hich is a kind of sadness; and a past evil gives rise to pass inro the muscles which serve to keep the sense organs fixed in rhe
c heerfulness, which is a kind of joy. same orientation so that they wi ll continue to mai ntain the impression in
th e way io which they fo rmed it.
379 68. W! IJ)' this e11umeratio11 of tbe passions differs from the one
co111111011lyaccepted 7 1. In this passio11 there occurs 110 change in the beart or i11 the blood
This o rder seems to me tbe best for an cnumcrnrion of the passions. I am It is a pecu liarity of this pa~sion that we do not find ir accompanied by
well aware that here I part company with the opinion of all who have any change in the heart or in the blood, such as occurs in the case of the
written previously about the passions. But I do so for good reason. For ocher passions. The reason for this is that it has as its object not good o r
they derive their enumeration from a d istinction rhey draw, within the evil, but only knowledge of the thing that we wonder ac. Hence it has no
sensiti\'e part of the soul, berwcen the two appetites they call 'concupi- relation wich the heart and blood, on which depends chc whole well-
scible' and 'irascible'.' As I have sa id already, I recognize no distinction being o f our body, but o nly with the brain, in which a re located the
of parrs within the soul; so I think their distinction amounts merely to organs of che senses used in ga ining this knowledge.
saying that rhe soul has two powers, one of desire and the other of anger.
But si nce the sou l bas in the same way the powers of wonder, love, h ope 72. What tbe stre11gth of wonder co11sists in
and anxiery, a nd hence the p ower co receive in itself every other passion, Tiiis does n ot prevent it from having con siderable strength becam~ of the
or to pe rform the actions to which the passions impel it, 1 do not see why element of surprise, i.e. che s udden and unexpected a rrival of rhe
1hcy h ave ch osen to refer them al l to dc~ire 01 to a nger. And besides, their impression which changes the move ment of the spirits. Such s urprise is
1111 1111cr:11ion docs no c include a ll the principal pass io ns, as l believe mine prnper a nd pecu lia r to this passion, so that when iris found in the oche1 382
do 1,, I <pea k o nly of the p rincipa l passions, because we might still passio ns - and it normal!)' occurs in and a ugments almost all of chem -
I t\ d1-.lllh.1ICJJl h~1...etl Oil that mode by Plato. in nook I V uf the Rtpublic, berwecn the ch is is because wonder is joined with them. Its strength d epends on cwo
'11+'"\ 1hlt" .and 'u>ru:up1-;cent' p.u1~ o( the 'iOUI. things : the novelty and the fact th .u the movcmem it cau~es is at lull
354 The Passions of the So11/ Part T1uo JH

~trength right from the start. For ic is certain that such a movement has {this difference being what makes us call it 'extraordinar)'). But when
more cffecc chan one which, being weak inirially and increasing only something previously unknown to us comes before o ur intellect or our
gradually, may easily be diverced. Ir is also certain that objects of the senses for the first lime, this does not make us retain it in our memory
senses that are novel affect tbe brain in certain parts where it is not unless our idea of it is strengthened in our brain by some pa~si on, or
normally affected; and that since these parts are more tender or less firm perhaps also by an application of our intellect as fixed by our will inn
than those harde11ed through frequent agication, the effects of the special sta re of attention and reflectio n. The ocher passio ns may serve to
movements produced in them are thereby increased. You will find this all make us take note of things which appear good or evil, but we feel only
the more pla usible if you consider that something similar accounts for the wonder ar things which merely appear unusual. So we see that people
fact thac in walking we have very little feeling of any contact in our feet who are not naturally inclined ro wonder are usually very ignorant.
since the weight of our body has accuscomed the soles of our feet to ~
contact that is quite hard; whereas when someone tickles our feet 76. flt 111/Jat ways it can be ham1f11f, a11d '101111ueca11 make good its lll5
although the contact is much lighter and gentler, we find this- almos; deficiency and correct its excess
unbearable simply because it is nor part of our ordinary experience. Bur more often we wonder roo much rather than too little, as when we
arc astonished in looking at things which merit little or no consideration.
73. \YIhat astonishment is Th is may entirely prevent or pervert the use of reason. Therefore,
This element of su rprise causes the spirits in rhe caviti es of the brain 10 a lthough it is good to be born with so me inclination co wonder, since it
383 make their way to the place where the impression of the object of wonder makes us disposed to acq uire sciemific knowledge, yet after acqui ring
is located. It has so much power to do this rhar sometimes it drives all the such knowledge we muse attempt to free ourselves from this inclination
spirits there, and makes them so wholly occupied with the preservation as much as possible. For we may easily make good its absence through
of this impression that none of them pass thence into the muscles or even thar special stare of refleccion and attention which our will can always
depart from the tracks they originally followed in the brain. As a result impose upon our understanding when we judge the matter before us to
the whole body remains as immobi le as a st~cuc, making it possible for be worth serious considerarion. But there is no remedy for excessive
only the side of the object originally presented to be perceived and hence wonder except to acquire the know ledge of many things and to praccise
impossible for a more detai led knowledge of the object to b~ acquired. examin ing all chose which may seem most unusual and strange.
This is what we commonly call 'being astonished'. Astonishment is an
excess of wonder, and it can never be other rhan bad. 77. It is 11ot the most st11pid or clever people wbo are most carried away
by wonder
74. How the passions are useful, and how they are ham1(11/ Moreover, although ic is only the dull and stupid who arc not naturally
From what has been said it is easy to recognize that rhc utility of all the disposed to wonder, this docs not mean that those with the best minds 386
passions consists simply in the fact that they strengthen and prolong are always the most inclined to it. In fact chose most inclined to it arc
thoughts in the soul which it is good for the soul to preserve and which chiefly people who, though equipped with excellent common &ense, have
otherwise might easily he erased from it. Likewise the harm they may no high opin ion of their abilities.
cause consists entire ly in their strengthening and preserving chcsc
thoughts beyond what is required, or in their strengthening and preserv- 78. Excessive wonder may beco111e a habit when we fail to correct it
ing others on which it is not good to dwell. "This passion seems to diminish with use, for the more we cnco11mcr
unu sual things which we wonder at, the more we find ourselves
J 84 75. Horu wo11der, i11 particular, is 11seful accustomed to stop wondering at them and to regard any we subsequent-
Of wonder, in particular, we may say that it is usefu l in that it makes us ly come upon as common. Nevertheless, when it is excessive and makes
le.1rn .rnd retain in our memory things of which we were previously us fix our attention solely on the first image of the objects before us
1~nor.11u. For we wonder only at what appear~ to us unusual and without ac.1uiring m1y further knowledge about chem, it leave~ behind a
ntr.1ord111ary; and someth ing can appear so onl y because we have been habit which make~ the sou l di5po1cd co dwell in rhe same way on every
Hn111.1111 of it, or perhaps hccnn ~c it differs from thing~ we have known other objcu cnm ing before it which appears ar all novel. Thi~ is what
The Passiom of the So11l Part Two 357
prolongs the troubles of those afflicted with blind curiosity, i.e. those possible objects of love. Consider, for example, the passions which an
who seek out rarities simply in order to wonder at them and not in o rder ambitious man has for glory, a miser for money, a drunkard for wine, a 389
co know them. For gradually they become so full of wonder that things of brutish man for a woman he wanes to violate, an honourable man for
no importance arc no less apt to arrest their attention than those whose his friend or mistress, :ind a good father for his children. Although ''cry
investigation is more useful. d ifferent from one another, these passions are similar in so for :is they all
partake of love . .But the men in the first four examples have love onl)' for
}87 79. Tf1e defi11itio11s of love a11d hatred the possess ion of the objects to which their passion is related, and nor for
Love is an emotion of the soul caused by a movement of tl1e spirits, which the objects themselves: for these objects they h ave merely desire mingled
impels the SO Lll co join icself wi llingly co objects that appear ro be with other particula r passions. Whereas che love of a good fochcr for hi,
agreeable to it. And hatred is an emotion caused by the spirits, w hich children is so pure that h e desires to have nothing from chem, anti he
impels the soul to want to be separa ted from o bj ects which are presented wants neither to possess them otherwise than he does, nor to be joined rn
to it as harmful. I say tha t these emotions are caused by the spi rits nor them more closely than he a lready is. He regards them, rather, as other
only in order to distinguish love and hatred (which are passions and parts of himself, and seeks their good as he does his own, or even more
depend on the body) from judgements which also bring the soul to join assiduously. For h e imagines that he and they together form a whole of
itself willingly to things it deems bad, bur also to distinguish them from which he is not the better part, and so he often puts their interest> before
the emotions which these judgements produce in the sout bis own and is not afraid of sacrificing himself in order to save them. 'The
affection which an honourable man has for his friends is of the same
So. \\'/hat it is to joi11 or separate 011eself rvilli11gly nature, though it is rarely so perfect; an d the affection he has for his
Moreover, in using the word 'willingly' l am not speaking of desire, mistress partakes largely of love, but also a little of desire.
which is a completely separate passion relating to the future. I mean
rather the assent by which we consider ourselves henceforth as joined 83. The difference betwee11 simple af{ectio11, friendship a11d devotion
with what we love in such a m anner that we imagine a wbole, of which \Xie may, I think, more reasonably distinguish kinds of love according to 390
we take ourselves to be only one part, and the thing loved to be the ocher. the esteem which we have for the object we love, as compared with
In the c:ise of hatred, on the other h and, we consider ourselves a lone as a ourselves. For whe n we have less esteem for it than for ourse lves, we have
whole entirely separated from the rhing for which we have an aversion. only a simple affection for it; when we esteem it equally with o urselves,
that is called 'friendship'; and when we have more esteem for it, our
388 81 . The distinction us1<ally made between concu/1isce11t love and passion may be called 'devotion'. Thus, we may have affection for a
be11evole111 love flower, a bird, or a horse; but unless our mind is very disordered, we can
A distinction is commonly made between two sorts of love, one called have friendship only for persons. They are so tru ly the objecrs of this
'benevolent love', which prompts us to wish for the well-being of what passion that there is no person so imperfect that we could nor have for
we love, and the other called 'concupiscent love', which makes us desire him a very perfect friendship, given that we believe ourselves loved by
the thing- we love. But it seems to me that this d istinction concerns only him and that we have a trul)' noble and generous soul (in accordance
the effects of love and not irs essence. For as soon as we have joined with the explanation given below in artidcs r 54 and 15 6). As for
ourselves willingly to some object, whatever its nature may be, we feel devotion, its principal object is undoubtedly the supreme Deity, for whom
benevolent towards it - that is, we also join to it willingly the things we we cannot fail to have devotion when we know him as we ought. But we
believe to be agreeable to it: this is one o f t he principal effects of love. may also have devotion for Ollr sovereign, our country, our town, and
And if we judge that it would be benefici al to possess an object or to be even for a particular person when we have much more esteem for him
t\Ssociatcd with it in some manner other than willingly, then we desire it: than for ourselves. The difference between these three kinds of love is
nnd this, too, is one of the most common effects of love. revealed chiefly by their effects . For in a ll of them we consider ourselves
as joined and united to the th ing loved, and so we are always ready to
ML. l/1111111ery different passions agree i11 that they partake of love abandon the lesser part of the whole that we compose widi it so as to
Nm In we need to distinguish as many kinds of love as chere a re different preserve the other part . In the case of simp le affection rhis results in our
The Passions of 1he Soul Part 1'1110 359

alw:iys preferring ou rselves tO the object of our love. In the case of addition we desire the absence of evils, both those that already affccr us
dcvorion, on the oth er hand, we prefer the thing loved so strongly that we and those we believe we may suffer on some future occasion.
391 arc not afraid m die in order to preserve it. We ha,e often seen examples
of such devotion in those who have exposed themselves ro certain death 87. Desire is a passio11 which /111s 110 opposite 39 l
in defence of their sovereign or their ciry, or somerimes even for I am well aware that in the Schools they commonly contrast the pa~sion
panicular persons to whom they were devoted. which leads to the search for good with that which leads to the avoidance
of evil, calling the former alone 'desire' and the latter 'aversion'. But there
84. "/'/Jere are not so many kinds of haired as of love is no good whose privation is not an evil, and no evil (considered ~~ a
Moreover, altho ugh harrcd is directly opposed co love, we do not positive thing) whose privatio n is nor a good. ln pursuing riches, ro r
disringuish it into as many kinds because rh c evils from which we are exa mple, we necessarily avo id povcrry, wh ile in avoiding illness we
separated willingly do not differ so noticeab ly from one another as do che pursue health, and li kewise in other cases. T hus I think it is always one
goods ro wh ich we are joined willingly. and the same movement wh ich gives rise to the pum 1i t of a good and :11
the same time the avoidance of the opposite ev il. I note only this
8 5. A1tractio11 and rep11lsio11 difference, that the desire we have when we arc led towards some good is
I find only one important distinction which is similar in both love and accompanied by love, and then by hope and joy, whereas when we are
hatred. It consists in the fact that the objc,'l> both of love and of haired led to get away from the evil opposed to this good, the same desire is
may be represented m the soul either by the external senses, or by the accompanied by hat red, anxiery and sadness (which causes us to judge
internal senses and its own reason. For we commonly call something the evil inimical to ourselves). But 1f we wish to consider the desire when
good' or 'evil' if our inrernal senses or our reason make us judge it it relates ar the same time both to the pursuit of some good aod equally to
agreeable or conrrar)' ro our nat ure. But we ca ll something 'beautiful' or the avoidance of the opposed evi l, we can see very clearly that a single
'ugly' if it is represented as such by our external senses (chiefly by the passion brings about both the one and t he orher.
39:z. sense of sigh t, of which we take mo re notice than of all che others). Two
kinds o f love arise from this, namely th e Jove we have for good things and 88 . The various kinds of desire 39 4
the love we have for beautiful things. To the latter we ma y give the name It would be more reasonable to distinguish desire into as many different
'attraction', so as not to confuse it with rhe former or with desire (to species as there are different objects that we pu rs ue. Curiosiry, for
whicb we ofte n give the name ' lo ve'). Two kinds of hat red arise in the example, is nothing but a desire for knowledge, an d it differs greatly from
snmc way, one relating to evil things and the other to things that are ugly; a desire for glory, as the latter differs from a desire for vengeance, nnd
and the latter may be called 'repulsion' o r 'aversion', so as to set it apart. likewise for other desires. But it is sufficient to note here that there are ns
Bur what is most noteworthy here is that the passions of attraction and many species or desire as or Jove or hatred, and that the most important
repulsion nre usually more violent than the other kinds of love and and strongest desires are those which arise from attraction and repulsion.
barred, because what enters rhc soul through the senses affecrs it more
strongly than what is represented to it by its reason. At the same time, 89. The desire which arises from rep11lsion
these passions usually contain less truth than rhc others. Consequently Now although, as already mentioned, it is one and the same desire which
they are rhe most deceptive of all the passions, and the ones against leads to the pursuit of a good and to the avoidance of the opposite evil,
which we musr guard o urselves most carefully. yet the desire which arises from attraction is very different from thnt
whi ch arises from repulsion. For atcr:i ction and repulsion, which arc
86. T/Je definition of desire in deed opposites, are not the good and the evil wh ich serve as o bjects of
1he passion o f desire is an agita tio n of t he soul ca used by the spirits, these desires. Rather, they a re simply rwo emotions of the soul which
whkh disposes the soul to wish, in t he future, for the things it represents dispose it to pursue t wo vcrr diffe rent th ings. O n the o ne hand, repul sion
to itwlf a agreeable. 111us we desire not o nly the presence of gooru is ordained by nature to represent to the soul a sudden a nd unexpected
wlm h .ire absen t but also the preservation of those which are present. In denth. Thus, although iris somctimcb merely the touch of an earthwor111,
360 The Passio11s of the Soul Part Two 361

39 5 the sound of a rustling leaf, or our shadow that gives rise to repulsion, we this joy, which is a passion, with the purely intellectual joy that arises in
feel at once as much emotion as if we had experienced a th reat of certain t he soul through an action of the soul alone. The larcer may be said to be
death. This produces a sudden agitatio n which leads the soul to do its a pleasa nt emoti on whi ch the soul arouses in icscl f wheneve r iLenjoys a
utmost to avoid so manifest :111 evil. It is th is kind of desire that we good wbich its understanding represent~ to it as its own. Of course, w hi le
commonly call 'avoidance' or 'aversion'. the soul is joined ro the body, this intell ectual joy can scarcely fail to be
accompanied by the joy which is a passion. For as soon as our intellect
90. The desire which arises from attraction perceives that we possess some good, even one so different from anything
Attraction, on the other hand, is ~peci ally ordained by nature to represent belonging to che body as to be wholly unimaginable, the imagination
the enjoyment of tha t w hich amacrs us as t he greatest of all the goods cannot fail immediately co form some impression in the brain, from
belonging to mankind, and so co make us have :1 bu rning desire for this which there ensues the movement of the spi rits which produces the
enjoyment. Ir is true char there are different sorts of :mracrion, and that passion of joy.
the desires ari~ing from them arc not all equally powerful. Thus, for
example, the beauty of flowers mo,cs us only to look at them, and that of 92. T/Je definition of sad11ess
fruits to cat them. But the principal attraction comes from the perfccuons Sadness is an unpleasant listlessness which affects the soul when it suffers
we imagine in a person who we think capable of becoming a second self. discomfort from an evil or deficiency which impressions in the brain
For nature has established a difference of sex in human beings, as in represent to it as its own. There is also an intellectual sadness which,
animals lacking reason, and with th is she has also impl anted certain though not the passion, rarely fails to be accompani ed by it.
impressions in the bra in which bring it about that at a certain age and
time we regard ourselves as deficient - as formi1,g only one half of a 93. The causes of these two passions 398
whole, whose other half must be a persoo of the opposite sex. In this way When intellectual joy or sadness arouses the corresponding passion, its
396 nature represents, in a confused manner, the acquisition of rhis ocher half cause is quite obvious. for we see from the definitions that joy resultS
as the greatest of all goods imaginable. Although we see many persons of from the belief that we possess some good, and sadness from the belief
the opposite sex, yet we do not desire many at any one ti me, since nature that we have some evi l or deficiency. But it often happens that we feel sad
does nor make us imagine that we need more th an C> ne otber half. But or joyful witho ut being able to observe so distinctly the good or evil
when we observe something in one of them which is more attractive than which causes th is feeling. This hap pens when t he good or evi l forms its
anything we observe at that moment in the others, this determines our impression in the brain without the intervention of t he soul, sometimes
soul to feel towards that one alone all the inclination which nature gives because it affectS only the body and sometimes because, even though it
it to pursue the good which it represenrs as the greatest we could possibly affects the soul, the soul does nor consider it as good or evtl but views it
possess. The name 'love' is applied more ofren to rhe inclination or desire under some other form whose impres~ion is joined in the brain with that
which :irises in this way from attractio n chan to the passion of love of the good or evil.
described previously. Hav ing manger cffec rs than th e passion, this
incli nation or desire provides writers of romances and poets with their 94. How these pnssious are aroused by goods and evils 1v/Jicb concern
priocipal subject-matter. sole/)' the bod)'; and 1vhat titillatio11 and pain consist i11
Thus, when we arc in good health and things arc calmer than usual, we
91. The defi11itio11 ofioy feel 111 ourselves a cheerfulness which results not from any operation of
Joy is a pleasant emotion which the soul has when it enioys a good which the undemanding but solely from imprcs;ions formed in the brain by the
impressions in the brain represent to it as its own. I say that the soul has movement of the spirits. And we feel sad in the same way when our body 399
this emotion when it enjoys a good, for in fact the soul rece ives no other is indisposed even though we do not know th at it is. Indeed, ti tillation of
benefi t from all the goods it possesses; and as long as it derives no joy the senses is followed so close ly by jO)', and pain by sad ness, that most
from tlll'm, we 1113)' say that it does not enjoy them any more than it people make no distinction between the two. Nevertheless they differ so
,,,, \\0111.t if 11 dtd not possess them mall. I add that the good is one which markedly that we may sorncrimes suffer pains with joy, and receive
1111pr'"1011\ 111 the brain rcprC\cut J\ the soul's own, ~o as not to confuse titillating sensation; which displease us. But what makes joy ordinarily
The Passions of th e Sou l Part Two

follow titill at ion is the fact that what we ca ll 'titillation' or 'pleasurable the spirits. For, altho ugh all the veins conduct the blood to the heart, it
sensation' occurs when the o b jects of the senses produce some move ment sometimes happens chat the blood in some veins is driven there wit h
in the nerves which would be capable of harming them if they did not greater force rhan the blood in other vei ns; and it also happens thar the
have enough stre ngth to resist it or if the body was not in a healthy openings through which the blood emers or leaves the heart are enlarged
condi tion. T his for ms an impression in the brain which, being orda ined or contracted to a grea ter extent at one time than at another.
by nature to bear witness to the body's healthy condition and strength,
represents this to the soul as a good which belo ngs to it in so far as it is 97. The chief experiences which enable us to know these movements in
united with the body; and so this impression produces joy in the soul. For the case of love
almost the same reason we natural!)' cake pleasure in feeling ourselves In considering the vario us alterations which experience reveals in our
aroused co all sores o f passions - even to sadness and hatred - when these body during the time o ur soul is agitated by different passions, I observe 402
passions are caused merely by the strange happen ings we see presented in the case of love that when it occurs on its own - that is, unaccompanied
on the stage, or by ocher such things which, being incapa ble of harming by any strong joy, desire, or sadness - t he pulse has a regul ar beat , bur is
us in any way, seem 10 affect our soul by titillating it. And pain usually much fuller and stronger than normal; we feel a gentl e heat in the chest;
produces sadness beca use the sensation we call 'pain' always resul ts from a nd the digestion of food rakes place very q uickly in the stomach. In this
400 an action so violent that it injures the nerves. This sensarion, ordained by way this passion is cond ucive to good health .
nature to ind icate to the soul the bodily damage suffered from such an
action, and the body's feeble ina bility to withstand it, represents both 98. Jn h atred
as ev ils which are always unpleasant to the soul except when they cause I observe in the case of hatred, on tbe other hand, that the pulse is
some goods which the soul val ues more highly. irregular, weaker and often q uicker; we feel chills mingled with a sort of
sharp, piercing hear in the ches t; and the stomach ceases co pedorm
9 5. How they may also be aroused by goods and evils which the soul its function, being incli ned to regurgita te and reject the food we have
does not notice even though they belong to it, such as the pleasure eaten, or at any rate to spoi l it and tum it into bad humours.
derived from taking risks or from recollecting past evils
Young people often take pleasure in attemptini; difficult casks and 99. Jn joy
exposi ng themselves to great dangers even though they do not hope In joy, th e pulse is regular and faster rhan normal, but not so strong or
thereby to gain any profit o r glory. TI1 is pleasure arises in th e following full as in the case of love; we feel a pleasant heat not only in the chest but
way. The thought that th e underta king is difficult forms an impression in also spreadi ng into all the external pam of the body along with the blood 403
thei r brain which, when joined with the impression they could form if which is seen to flow copiously to these pa res; and yet we sometimes lose
they were to think that it is a good thi ng to feel sufficiently co urageous, our appetite because ou r digestion is less active than usual.
happy, skil fu l, o r strong to da re to ta ke such risks, causes them to take
pleasure in doing so. And the satisfactio n which old people feel in 100. In sadness
recol lecting the evils they have suffered results from their thinking that it In sadness the pulse is weak and slow, and we feel as if our heart had
is a good thing to have been able to survive in spite of them. tiglu bonds aro und it, and were frozen by icicles which transmit tbcir
cold to the rest of the body. But sometimes we st ill have a good appetite
4or 96. The movements of the blood and the spirits which ca use the five and feel o ur stomach continuing to do its duty, provided there is no
preceding passions hatred mixed with the sadness.
The five passions [ have begun co explain here are joined or o pposed to
one another to such an extent that it is easier to consider them all xor. Jn desire
together than to treat each of them separately, as we treated wo nder. Lastly, I noce this special feature of desire, that it agicates the heart more
Un li ke th e cause of wonde r, which is located in the brain alone, their violently than any orher passion, and supplies mo re spirits to the bra in .
cause is located also in the heart, the spleen, the liver and all the other Passing from there into the muscles, these spirits render all the senses
1rnrts of the body, in so fa r as they help to prod uce t he blood and hence more acute, and all the parts of che body more mob ile.
The Passions of the Soul Part Two

102.. The moveme11t of the blood a11d the spmts i11 the case of love located around the orifices of the heart is especially active: by opening
These observations, and many others that would take too long to report, and enlarging these orifices it enables lhe blood which other nerves drive
have Jed me to conclude that when the understanding thinks of some through che "eins to enter an d leave the heart in larger quantities than
object of love, this thought forms an impression in the brain which usual. And because the blood then entering the heart has co me inro the
directs the animal spirits thro ug h the nerves of the sixth pair to the veins fro m the arteries, and so bas passed th ro ugh the heart 111:111y times
muscles surrounding the intestines and stomach, where they act in such a al read y, it expands very readil y and prodLJces spirits whose p:i m, being
way that the alimencary juices (which are changing inro new blood) flow very equa l and fine, are suited for the formation and strengthening o f the
rapid ly to the heart wichouc stopping in the liver.' Driven there with impressions in the brain which give co the soul thoughts that arc cheerfu l
greater force than the blood from ocher parts of the body, these juices and peaceful.
enter che heart in greater abundance and produce a stronger heat there
because they are coarser than the blood which has already been rarefied i o5 . fo sad11tss
many times as it passes again and again through the heart. As a result the ln sadness, by conrrasr, che openings in the heart are severely resrricted
spirits senr by the heart ro the brain have parts which arc coarser and by t11e small nerve which surrounds th em, and the blood in the veins is
mo re agitated than usual; and as they mengthen the impression formed not agitated at all, so that very little of it goes co the heart. At the same
by tbe first thought of the loved o bject, tbesc spirits compel the soul to ti me, th e passages through which the alimentary juices Aow fro111 the
dwell upon chis thought. T his is what the passion of love consists in. stomach an d intestines co ch c li ver remain o pen, so chat the appetite docs
not diminish, except when hatred, which is often joined to sadness, closes
103. 111 hatred these passages.
In the case of hatred, on the other hand, at the first thought of the object
that gives rise to aversion, the spirits in the brain are so d irected to the i 06. l>t dtsire
muscles of the stomach and intestines chat the)' constrict all the openings Finally, the passion of desire has this special characteristic: the volition to
through which the alimentary iuices normal ly now, thus preventing rhese acquire some good or avoid some evil sends the spirics rapidly from the
juices from mixing with the blood. This thought also directs the spirits ro brain to al l the parrs of the body which may help to bring about rhis
the little nerves of the spleen and the lower part of rhe liver (where the effect, a11d especially co the heart and the parts which supply most of its
bile is collecced ) in such manner that the [>arcs of blood which a rc blood. Receiving a greater amount of blood than usu al, the heart sends a
normally returned to these organs issue from them and flow to the heart greater quantity of spirits to the brain, both in order to maintain and
together with the blood which is in the branches of che ve11a cava. This strengthen the idea of the volition and to pass from there into all the
c:iuses the heat of the heart to be very uneven, in so far as che blood sense organs and all the muscles that can be used for obtaining what is
coming from the spleen is hardly heated and rarefied at all, whereas the desired.
blood coming from the lower part of che lher, where the gall is always
located, bo ils up and expands very rapid!)'. In consequence the spirits 107. The ca1'se of these mouements i11 the case of loue
going co the brain also have very unequal parts, and move very strangely. I derive an explanation for all this from what I said previously, namely
As a result they strengthen the ideas of hatred which are already that o ur soul and our body arc so linked that once we have joined some
imprinted there, and they d ispose the soul to have thoughts which are full bodily action with a certain tho ugh t, the o ne does not o" ur afterwards
o f actimony and bitterness. without che o ther occurring too. We see this, for example, in those who
have taken some medicine with g.rcat aversion when they are ill, and can
104 . lit jay not afterwards ear or drink anything approaching it in taste without im-
In joy, it is not the nerves of the spleen, liver, stomach, or intesrines that mediately feeling the same aversion; and similarly they cannot chink of
.ire active, so much as chose throughour the rest of the body. The ner-e the aversion rhcy have for medicines withom the same caste returning in
their thought. For it seems to me chat when our soul began 10 be joined co
1 "-'v('n p.;ur'> of cr.mial ncne' :1.rc: rerog1'lited m C:alem:tn 1>hysiologyi rhc sil<rh pair'
\Ollf"IJ'ktntl'i 111 modern ph)'MOlo~y w rhe glossophar)'llUCI, v;l,t\U!i: and t>pinal acct~ory
o ur body, its first passions muse have arisen on some occasion when the
111'1\'(\ blood, or some ocher juice enteri ng the hea rt, was a more suita ble fuel
The Passions of t/1e Soul Part Two

than usual for maintaining the heat which is the principle of life. This 1 ro. Jn sadness 410
caused the soul to join itself will ingly to that fuel, i.e. to love it; and at the Sometimes, on the ocher hand, it has happened that the body ha s lacked
same time the spirits flowed from the brain to the muscles capable of nourishment, and this lack must have made the soul feel its first sadness
pressing or agitating the parts of the body from which the fuel had come (at any rare the first which was not joined to hatred). Ir also caused the
to the heart, so as to make them send more of it. These parts were the orifices of the heart to contract because they received only a little blood;
stomach and the intestines, whose agitation increases the appetite, or else and it caused a rather significant proportion of th is blood co come from
the li ver and the lungs, which the muscles of the diaphragm can press. the spleen, since this is, so to speak, the ultimate reservoir of blood for
That is why this same movement of the spirits has ever since accompa- the heart when it does not get enough from elsewhere. That explains why
nied the passion of love. sadness is always accompanied by movements of the spirits and nerves
which serve in th is way to restrict th e orifices of the heart and ro direct
xo8. ln hatred blood to it from the spleen.
Sometimes, on the other hand, there came to the heart a juice of an alien
nature, which was unsuitable for maintaining the heat, or even was r r x. bt desire
capable of extinguishing it. This caused the spirits rising from the heart to Lastly, when the soul was newly joined to the body, all its first desires
the brain to produce the passion of hatred in the soul. At the same time must have been to accept things beneficial to it and to reject those
these spirits went from the brain ro nerves capable of driving blood from harmful to it. It was to these same ends that the spirits began at that time
the spleen and the minute veins of the liver to tbe heart so as to prevent ro move all the muscles and sense o rgans in all the ways they can move 4ll
this harmful juice from entering it; and they also went to nerves capable them. That is the reason why now, when "the soul desires anything, the
of driving this juice back to th e intestines and stomach, or capable whole body becomes more agile and ready to move than it normally is
sometimes of making the stomach regurgitate ir. As a result, these same without any such desire. Moreover, when the body is in this condition,
movements usually accompany the passion of hatred. You can see with the desires of the soul are rendered stronger and keener.
the naked eye that the liver contains a number of rather wide veins or
ducts through which the alimentary juices can pass from the portal vein 1r 2. The external signs of these passions
inro the vena cava, and then to the heart, without ever stopping in the There is no need for me to pause to explain any further the differences in
liver. But you can also see countless other, smaller veins where the juice rhe pulse and all the other properties I have attributed ro these passions,
might stop. These always contain blood in reserve, as does the spleen, for I have sa id enough already to enable their causes to be understood.
and since th is blood is coarser than that in the other parts of the body, it For each passion, however, I have noted solely what can be observed
is better able to serve as a fuel for the fire in the heart when the stomach when it is the only one present, and wbat enab les us to recognize the
and intestines fail to supply any. movements of the blood and spirits which produce it. l have yet co deal
with the many external signs which usually accompany the passions -
ro9. Tn joy signs which are mucb better observed when severa l are mingled together,
It has also sometimes happened at the beginning of our life that the blood as they norma lly are, than when they are separated. The most important
contained in the veins was quite su itable for nourishing and maintaining such signs are the expressions of the eyes and the face, changes in colour,
the heat of the heart, and was so plentiful that the heart had no need for trembling, listlessness, fainting, laughter, tears, groans and sighs.
any other source of nourishment. This produced the passion of joy in the
sou l. At the same time it caused the orifices of the heart to be opened n3. The expressions of the eyes and the face 412
wider than usual; and it made the spirits flow abundantly from the brain There is no passion which some particular expression of the eyes does not
nor only into the nerves which serve 10 open these orifices but also reveal. For some passions this is quire obvious: even the most stupid
generally into all the other nerves which drive the blood from the veins to servants can cell from their master's eye whether he is angry with them.
the heart, thus preventing any fresh blood from coming into the heart But although it is easy to perceive such expressions of the eyes and to
from the li ver, spleen, intestines and stomach. That is why these same know what they sign ify, it is not easy to describe them. For each consists
111ovlmc111s accompany joy. of many changes in the movement and shape of the eye, and these are so
The Passions of the 5011/ Part Trvo

specia l and slight that we cannor perceive each of them separately, u7. wrby we often blush when 111eare sad
though we can easily observe the result of their conjunction. Almost the Bur it often happens that we do nor become pale when we are sad, and on
same t.m be said of the facial expressions which also accompany the contrary we become flushed. This must be arrriburcd ro rhc or her
passions. For although more ex tensive than those 0 the eyes, 1hey are passions which are joined to sad ness, namely love or desire, and
still hard to discern. They differ so Jude that some people make almost sometimes also hatred. For when these passions beat or agitate 1hc blood
the same face when chey weep as others do when rhey laugh. Of course, coming fro m t he liver, intestines and other internal partS of 1hc body,
some facial expressions are qui1c noticeab le, such as wrinkles in 1he rhey drive it to 1he heart, and then through the great arccry co the veins in
forehead in anger aod cerrnin mo vemems of the nose and lips in the face. And the sadness which more o r less closes the orifices of the
indignation and derision; but these seem nor so much na1ural as heart canno1stop 1his bloo d except when it is quite profound. But even if it 4 1 5
vo luntary. And in general the sonl is able to cha nge facial expressions, as is only moderate, this sadn ess easi ly prevents the blood which has cntcl'cd
well as expressions of the C)'CS, by vividly feig ning a passion which is the veins of the face from descending to the heart, so long as love , desire,
41 3 co ntrary to one it wishes to conceal. Thus we may use such expressions or hatred is d riving other blood there from the internal parts. Thar is why
10 hide our pa ssions as well as to reveal them. the blood trapped in rhe face makes it red - indeed, redder than when we
are joyful, since the colour of blood is all the more conspicuous when it
r 14. Changes in colour flows less rapidly, and also because more blood can collect in 1he veins of
We cannoc so easily prevent ourselves from blushing or growing pale the face when the orifices of the heart are opened less widely. We see th is
when some passion disposes us ro do so. For chese changes do not depend chicOy in shame, which is made up of seJf.Jove and an urgenr desire 10
on the nerves and muscles as do rhe preceding ones: they proceed more avoid present disgrace (which makes the blood come from the internal
immediately from the heart, which may be ca lled the source of the pans co che heart and then 1hrough the aneries to che face), together with
passion; in so for as it prepares th e blood and the spirits co produce them. a moderate sadness (which prcvems this blood from returni ng 10 the
It is certain that the colour of the face comes solely from the blood which, heart). The same 1hing usually seems to happen also when we weep;
nowing contin ually from the heart through the arceries into the veins and for, as l shall explain shortly, tears are caused for the most part by
then back into the heart, colours the face more o r less, depending on a combination of lo ve and sadness. And it is seen in anger, when a
whether it fills the small veins located nea r its surface to a grea1er or sudden desire for vengean ce is oflen mingled with love, hatred and
lesse r cxtenc. sadness.

115. How ;oy causes blushing


Thus joy renders rhc colour brighter and rosier because it opens the u 8. Trembling
There are two discinc1 causes of trembl ing. One is rbar sometimes too few
valves of the heart and so causes the blood to Oow more quickly in all the
of the spirits in the brain enrer into the nerves to be a ble ro close the little
veins. As the blood becomes warmer and thinner 11 fills out all the pans
passages of the musdcs in just the wa)" that, according to rhc account P 6
of the face somewhat, rhus making it look more cheerful and happier.
given in artide t 1 , they must be closed in order to cause the movements
of the limbs; and the ocher is chat sometimes too many of chc spirit~ enter
4t4 n6. How sadness causes pallor into the nerves to be able to do this. The first cause is seen in sadncs~ and
Sadness, o n the oiher hand, constricts the orifices of the heart, causi ng fear, and also when we tremble with cold. For these passions, like the
the blood to flow more slowly in the veins an d to become colder and coldness of the air, may cause the blood 10 thicken so much 1hat it doc~
thicker. Needing ro occupy Jess space, the blood then withdraws into the not supply enough spiri1s 10 tlie bra in to permit any to be scm to the
largest vein s, which are the nearest rn the hea rt, leaving the more remote nerves. The other cause is often seen in those who keen ly desire
veins, sucn as those in the face ; and since these arc particularly something, or arc scrongly moved by anger, and also in rhosc who arc
conspicuous, the face is caused to appea r 1>:1le and sunken. TI1is happens drunk. For these two passions, as well as wine, so metimes make so many
chi cOy when rhe sadness is g reat, or when it come; 0 11 suddenly, as in spiri1s go to the brain that they cannot be directed from rherc in a11
terro r, when surprise amplifies the acti on whid1 griJh the heart. o rderly way inco the m u~clc~.
370 The Passions of the Soul Part Two 371

l J9. Listlessness smothered in such a way that there remain some traces of heat which
Lis tlessness is an inclination felt in all the limbs to relax and remain may afterwards rek indle it. T here are many bodily indispositions which
motionless. As in the case of trembling, bu t in a different way, it results may cause us co fall into a faint; but among the passions it is o nly
from too few spirits entering into the nerves. For the ca use of trem bling is extreme joy ch at we o bserve ro have the power ro do this. Here is the way
that t here are not enough spirits in the brai n to carry out the directions of in which I believe it causes this effect. It ope ns the orifices of the heart
the gland when it drives them to some muscle; whereas listlessness results unusually wide, so that the blood from the veins enters the heart so
from the gland's not directing t he spirits to some muscles rather than suddenly and so copi ously chat it cannot be rarefied by the heat in the
others. heart q uickly eno ugh to raise a ll rhe little membranes whi ch close the
en trances to t hese veins. In this way t he blood smot hers t he fire which it
417 120. How it is caused hy love and by.desire usual ly maintains when it enters che heart in moderate amounts.
T he passion that most commonly brings a bout this effect is love,
combined with desire, for a thing whose acquisit ion is not imagined to be x:i.3. Why sadness does not cause us to faint 4 19
possible at the present tim e. Fo r love makes rhe soul so engrossed in It seems that a grear sadness w hich comes upon us unexpectedly o ught to
thinking abo ut the loved object that it uses all the spirits in th e brain in grip th e orifi ces of the heart so tightly as to exringui sh the fire; yet we do
representing the image of this object, a nd it stops all che movements of not obse rve this to happen, or if it happens it does so very rarely. T he
the gland which do not serve chis purpose. And regarding desire, it must reason for this, I believe, is that there can hardly ever be insufficient bl ood
be o bserved that the property of making the body more mobile, which I in rhe hea rt ro maintain the heat there when its o rifices are almost closed.
ascribed to it ea rl ier, 1 applies to it only when we imagine the desi red
object to be something which we are able at that time to rake steps Il+ Laughter
towards acq uiring. For if we imagine, o n t he comrary, chat it is Laughter results when the blood coming from the right-hand cavity of
impossible to do anyth ing that might serve this end, all the agitation due the heart through ch c arter ial vein causes the lungs to swel l up suddenly
to the desire remains in the brain without passing into chc nerves; and, and repeatedly, forcing the air they contain to rush o ut through the
serving only to strengthen the idea of the desired object, this agitation windpipe, where it forms an inartiwlate, explosive sound. As the air is
leaves the resr of the body in a listless srace. expelled, the lungs are swollen so much that they push against all che
muscles of che dia phragm, chest and throat, thus causing movement in
r 2 i. It may also be caused by other passions the facial muscles with wh ich rhese organs are connected. And it is just
lt is true chat hatred, sadness and even jor may also cause some this facial expression, together with the inarticulate and explosive sound,
listlessness when it is very violent, because it makes the soul wholly thar we call ' laughter'.
418 engrossed in thinking about its object; chis happens ch ieAy when these
passions are combined w ith the desire for someth ing which we canno t do a 5. Why laughter does 11ot accompan)' the greatest ioys 4 20
anything to acquire at the present time. Bue listlessness is encou ntered Now although laughter seems to be one of the chief signs of joy, yet j<>y
much mo re in love than in all the other passions. For we pause much cannot cause laughter except when ir is moderate and mixed with an
more to thi nk abo ut objects to which we join o urselves willingly tha n to element of wonder or harred . For we find by experience that when we are
think about o bjects &om which we separate ourselves, or about any unusually joyful, the subject of this joy never makes us burst into
other objects; and listlessness docs not depend on surprise but requires laughter ; and indeed, we are never so read)' to laugh as when we arc sad.
some time for its formation. The reaso n for this is that in great joy rhe lungs are always so fu ll that
they cannot be swollen any more by further surges of blood.
1 z:z.. Fainting
Fai nting is not for removed from dying, for we die when the fi re in o ur i 26. The principal causes of laughter
htnrl i' comp letely exti nguished, ;111d we merely fall imo a faim when it is I can see only rwo things that might cause the lungs to swell up suddenly
in this way. The first is the surprise of wonder, wh ich may be comb ined
1 Arc. 1 01, p. \6 \ ah<wt:. with joy so as to open the orifices of the hea rt so rapidly that a great
371 The Passions of the Soul Part Two 373

quantity of blood suddenly enters its right-hand side from the vena cava, the first juice which passed from his stomach to his heart, and which the
becomes rarefied there, and passes through the arterial vein co swell up mere imagination of caung could direct there even before rhc arrival of
the lungs. The other is the admixture of some liquid which increases the the juice of che food he was eating.
rarefaction of the blood. I cannot discover any such liquid ot.her than the
41 1 most nuid part of thac which comes from the spleen. Driven to the heart 1 28. The origin of tears
by some slighc emotion of hatred (helped by the surprise of wonder), this As laughter is never cau;cd by the greatest joys, so rears do not result 4 21
part of the blood mingles there with the blood coming from ocher regions from an excreme sadness, b11t o nly from a sadness thar is moderate nnd
of che body (which joy d rives into rhc hcnrc 111 abund ance) and may cause accompanied or followed by some feeling of love or joy. To under-
chis blood co expand much more than usual. \Y/e sec the same thing in a stand their origin properly, we must observe that although lots of
number of other liquids, which suddc11ly swell up when we throw a linl e vapours continually iss ue from all pa rts of ou r bod y, rhcre arc none from
vinegar into a vessel containing them over a ~ re. f o r the mosr fluid pan which so many issue as from 1he eyes. This is caused by the size of the
o( the blood coming from the spleen has a nature similar to that of optic nerves and the mult it ude of little arteries by w hich the vapours get
vinegar. Experience also reveals that in every situation which may cause there. Just as swear is composed merely of vapours which arc converted
such laughter to burst forth from the lungs, there is always some slight into warer on rhe surface of the parts from which 1hey issue, so rears arc
occasion for haired, or at least for wonder. And those wich an unhealthy formed from the vapours that is~uc from our eyes.
spleen arc apt not only to be sadder than others, bur also at times to be
more cheerful and more disposed ro laughter, inasmuch as the spleen 119. Hoiu the vapours are cha11gt!tl i11to 1vater
sends two kinds of blood to the hea", one very thick and coarse, which In the Meteorology, 10 explain how the vapours ofrhc ai r are transformed
causes sadness, and the orher fluid and thin, which causes joy. And we into rain, I wrote that chis results from their being less agitated or more
often feel ourselves naturally inclined to he sad after we have laughed a abundant than usual. 1 Likewise I believe th at when the vapnurs issuing
lot, because the more fluid part of the blood in the spleen has been from the body arc much le>~ agitated than usual, even if they are nor so
exhausted and the o tber, coarser part follows it ro tbe heart. abundant, rhey are still trnn~formed into water; this causes the cold
sweats which sometimes result from weakness when we are ill. And l
117. Whal causes laughter in tbe case of i11dig11atio11 bel ieve that che bodily vapours are also t ransformed into wacc r when
As for the laughter wh ich somet imes accompa nies i1\dignation, it is they ;u c much more abundant, provided they a re not at the sa me time
4u usually arrilicial and feig ned. Bue when it is natural, it seems to result more agitated. T hi s causes tbe sweat which occurs when we rake 42.4
from the joy we feel in seeing char we cannot be harmed by the evil at exercise. But the eyes do not weep rhen, because d uring bodily exercise
which wc are indigna nt, togerher wich our surprise at the novelty of the the greatest part of the spirits go to the muscles used in moving the hody,
evil or at our unexpected encounter with it. So it is that joy, hatred and and less of them go through the optic ner"e to the eyes. It is one and the
wonder contribute to indignation. Yet I am willing to believe that it may same matter that forms blood (when in the veins or che arrerics), the
alS<? be produced without any joy, by the movement of aversion alone, spirits (when in the brain, nerves, or muscles}, vapours (when ic Mucs
which sends blood from the spleen 10 the heart, where the blood is forth in t.he form of air), and finally sweat or tears (when ic chickms in10
rarefied and then driven to the lungs, which it readily causes to swell water on che surfaces of the body or che qes).
when it finds them almost empty. In general, whatever may suddcnl>
make the lungs swell up in this manner causes the external action of t 30. How somethi11g that causes pain i11 the eye makes it weep
la ughter, except when sadness changes it inco t he groans and cries which I can observe only cwo causes that make rhe vapours issuing from the
accompany rears. Regardi ng this marrc r, Vives writes tha t when he had eyes change into tears. The first is a change in the shape of the pores
gone without eating for a long time, the fi rst pieces of food that he put in th rough wbich they pass. By whatever acciden t this may happen, it
his 111 ou th caused him to laugh . 1 Thi s could resu lt from the face that his retards the movement of these vapours and cha nges chcir o rder, and so
l t1 111\~. c111p1icd of blood by lack of nourishmenc, were rapidl y swollen by may cause them to be transformed into wa ter. T hus a speck in our eye is
I. I Vive\, I); Anima el Vila (1s18), ch. l funn I UI"- Vive~ ( 149 ,_ , t ~o~ was a hum:tni\t
'\ h11l.u ukbr.ne<.I as :rn educational chton.\c lrHI J \Ollr of 1oc..holn.,t1c lo1:k.
374 The Passions of the Soul Part Two 375

eno ugh to draw forth tears. For in produt:ing pa in t hc1e it changes the of rheir mind which so disposes rhem. T his happens only ro rhose who
arrangement of the eye's pores so that some of them become narrower, are so weak rhnt they let themselves be uncrly o~ercome by triv.ial
and the tiny parts of the vapours pass through them less quick)). Hence, maners involving pain, fear, or picy. The same thing happens wuh 447
4 ~5 whereas previously they issued forth equidistant from each other, and so children, who hardly ever weep from joy, bur much more often from
remained separ:ncd, they now come together because the order of rbe sad ness, even when it is not accompanied by love. for ch ildren always
pores is disturbed. In this way the parts of the vapours are joined bavc enough blood to produce a lot of vapours; and these turn into rea rs
together, and so transformed into tears. when their movement is retarded by the sadness.

13 1. Ho111 we weep from sad11tss 134. Why some dnldre11 gr o111 pale instead of 11Jeepi11g
The other cause of tea rs is sadness followed by love or joy, o r in general Yet there arc some child ren who, instead of weepmg, g row pale when
by some cause which makes the heart dr ive a lot of blood through the they are angry. This may indicate unusu?I disc~rn~ent and courage on
arteries. SadneS$ is required for chis, because in chilling all the blood their part, namely when it r~-sults from thetr considering the extent o~ some
again it constricts the pores of the eyes. But to the extent thar it constricis evil and preparing 1hemselves ro resisr it strongly, i~ the same fashion as
them, it also decreases the quantity of the vapours which can pass those who are older. But more commonly 1t 111dicatcs a bad nature,
through them, and for this reason sadness is not sufficient to produce namely when it resul ts from their being inclined to hatred or fear. For
tears unless the quan tity of these vapours is increased ar rhe same rime by these are passions which decrease rhe matrer of which rears are formed.
some orher cause. And there is nothing which increases 11 more than the \Vic observe, on rhe other hand, rhat children who weep "ery readily are
blood which is scnr ro rhe hearr in che passion of love. We see, coo, tha1 inclined to love and to pit)'
those who are sad do nor shed tea rs continuallr, bu1 on ly intcrmiuendy,
when they reAccr anew upo n the o bjects of their affection. 135 Sighs
The cause of sighs is very different from that of tears, even though they
r p.. The groa11s 111/Jich accompa11y tears are similar in presupposing sadness. For whereas we arc moved to weep 4i.8
The lungs are also sometimes suddenly swollen by the abundance of rhe when our lungs are full of blood, we are moved to sigh when they arc
446 blood wnich enters them and ex pels the air rhcy contained. As this air almost empty and some imagined hope or joy opens the o rifice of the
goes out t hrough tbe windpipe it produces the groaus and cries which venous artery which sadness had constricted. Then rhe little blood
customarily accompany rears. These cries arc usually shriller than those remaining in the lungs flows down suddenly into the lcft:hand side.of t~e
accompanying laughter, although they are produced in almost che same heart through this artery, where it is driven by the desire ro anam tlus
way. The reason for this is rhat the nerves that enlarge o r constrict the joy . At the same rime tnis desire agitates all the muscles ~f the d1aphragm
vocal organs, making rhe voice louder or shriller, are joined with those and chest so that air comes rapid ly througb the mouth 111to the lungs to
that o pen the orifi ces of rhe heart when we are joyful and constrict rhem fi11 rhe pl~ce vacated by the blood. And thar is what we call 'sighing'.
when we arc sad, and so they make rhe \Oca l organs become wider or
narrower at the same rime. 1 36. How tbe passions wl1ic/J are peculiar to certai11 persons prod11ce
their effecls . .
i33. Why children and old people weep readily For 1he rest, so as to put in a few words all the pomts 1hat mig.ht be added
Children and o ld people arc more incliJ1ed to weep rhan rhc middle-aged, regarding rhe different effects or different causes of the ~ass1ons, I ~hall
but for different reasons. Old people often weep from affcetion and jO)' content myself with repeating rhe principle which underlies C\'eryt~1ng I
For when these rwo passions arc combined rogerher they send a lor of have written about them - namely, that o ur soul and body are so linked
hloocl to the hcarr, and many vapours from rhere to the eyes . And 1hc that once we lrnve jo ined some bodily act ion with a cerrain tho ught, 1he
.1i.:i101io11of1hcsc vnpours is reduced to such an extent by the co ldncs~ of one does not occur thereafter without the o ther occu rring too; but we do
1l1tir natu re thm the vapour> arc easily 1rnnsfor111cd into tear\ even nor always join rhe same actions to the same rhoughts. This principle
'"1hou1 any pr<..:ccling sadnc\.,. And if rnmc old pco11lc "I' weep very alone can account for any particular phenomenon involving the pa\s1on~, 4 29
11.11hly from 'cxation, ir 1s nm \O much 1h( tlmpcrnmcnl of 1hcir body .1' w hether in nnc:.clf or in.other~, which ha' not been expla ined hcl'l". ~or
The Passions of the So,,/ Part Two 377

example, the st range avers ions of certain people that make them unable movemems s imila r to those which , in o ur case, usua lly follow upon t he
to bear the smell of roses, rhe presence of a cat, or the like, can readil y be passions which move our sou l to consent to such move me nts. Neverthe-
recogn ized as resulting simply from their having been g reatly upset by less it is not always good for the passions to function in this way, in so far
some such o bject in the early years of t heir li fe. O r it may even resu lt as there are many things harmfu l ro the bod y which cause no sadness
from th eir having been affected by the feelings their mother had w hen she initially (o r w hich even produce joy), and in so far as ocher things are
was upset by such an object while pregnant; for there certain ly is a usefu l to the body, a lthough at first th ey a re disagreeable. Furthermore,
connection between all the movements of a mother a nd t hose of a child in the passions almos t a lways cause the goods they represent, as well as th e
he r womb, so t hat an ything adverse to the one is harmfu l to the other. evils, ro appea r much greate r a nd more impo rtant than they are, thus
And the smell of roses may have ca used severe head ache in a child when moving us to p ursue the former a nd flee from the la tte r w ith more ardo ur
he was still in the crad le, or a cat may have terrified h im wi thou t a nyone a nd zea l than is appropriate. Likewise, we sec t hat animals are often
no ticing a nd w ithout any me mo ry of it remaining afterwards; and yet the deceived by lu res, and in seeking to avoid small e\ils they throw
idea of the aversio n he then felt for t he roses or for the ca t will rem a in themselves into g reatec ev ils. Tiiat is w h y we m ust use experience and
imp rinted on his brain ti ll the end of his life. l'eason in o rder to d istinguish good from evil a nd know thei c t rue value, so
as not to ta ke the one For the o ther or rnsh into anyth ing immodera te I).
3 7. The (unction of the five passions explained here, in so far as they
i
relate to the body 1 39. The fttn.ction of these passions i11 so far as the) belong to the soul; 43 2
Having g iven definit ions of love, h atred, desire, joy and sadness, and firstly, of love
d ealt with all the bodily movements wh ich cause or accompa ny rhem, we Th is wou ld be su fficient if we had in us o nly a bod y, or ii the body were
~30 h ave only ro conside r the ir function. Regarding thi s, ic must be observed our better part. But as it is o nly the lesser pan , we should consider the
t hat they are a ll o rdain ed by nature to rela te to the bod y, and to belong to p assions c hiefl y in so far as they be long to the soul. In th is regard, love
the so ul o nly in so fa1 as it is joined w ith the body . H ence, their natu ra l a nd hatred result from knowledge a nd p recede joy and sadness, except
function is to move che soul to consent a nd con tribute to actio ns which w hen the latter sta nds in place of the knowledge of wh ich they are
may serve ro preserve the body or render it in some way more perfect. species .1 An d when this knowledge is true - that is, w hen the things it
From this point of view, sadness and joy a re the two passions that have brings us to love are tru ly good and those it brings us to hate are tru ly
primary application. For it is only through a feeling of pain that the soul bad - love is incomp a rably better than hatred : it can never be too great,
is immed iately advised about things t hat harm the body : chis fee ling and it never fails to produce joy . I say that this love is extremely good
produces in the soul first the passion of sadness, then ha tred o f w hat because by joini ng real goods to us it makes us ro that extent more
causes the pain, a nd fina lly the desire to gee rid of it. Similarly the soul is perfect. l say also thar it ca nno t be too great, for all that the most
im mediate ly ad vised about things useful to the body only through some excessive love ca n do is to jo in us so perfectly to these goods that the love
sort of tit illat ion , w hich firs t produces joy with in it, then gives rise to love we h ave especially for o urselves must apply to th em as well as to us; and
of what we be lieve to be its cause, and fi na ll y brings about the des ire to this, l believe, can never be bad . And it is necessaril)' followed by joy,
acquire something that can enable us to continue in this joy, or e lse to because it represents to us wh at we love as a good belo nging to us.
have a similar joy again later on. This shows that these five passions are
a ll very usefu l with respect to the body. It s hows too that sad ness is in 140. Hatred
some way primary and more necessa ry tha n joy, and hat red mo re H atred , on the o the r ha nd, can not be so m ild as to be harmless, a nd it is 4 33
necessary t han love; for it is more important to reject th ings which arc never devoid of sadness. I say it can not be too mild because, bowevel'
ha rm ful and potentia ll y destructive than to acqui re those wh ich add much the hatred of an evil moves us to an action, we could always be
some perfectio n which we can su bs ist wit hout. m oved to it even more effectively by love of tbe contra ry good - at least
w hen the good and evil a re adeq uately known. For J acknowledge cha t
~ 11 1 18. Their fa ults and the m eans of correcting them
Thi> ft11iction of the passions is tl1e most natural that they can have. For t Cr. arc. 79, p. JS6 above. Love ~l 1ld hatred result from judgem~nt:; conc.:crning good and
evil, and wb(!n these judgements constirutc knowledge of good or evil) they :.m:
.1ll 1hc :111i111a ls devoid of reason cond uct thei r li ves simply th rough bodily ~\ccom panicd hy i<>y or Stldne.:;s.

~I
The Passio11s of the Soul Part Two 379

hatred of rhe evil which is manifested solely by pain is necessary where when hatred is justified it simpl) rakes us away from a subject conrnining
rhc body is concerned; but I am speaking here only about the hatred an evil from which it is good to be separated; whereas a love which 1~
which resulu from a clearer knowledge, which I refer to the soul alone. unjustified joins us ro things wh ich may be harmful, or ar least which
I say also that this hatred is never without sadness because evil, being deserve less consideration than we give them, and this demeans and
merely a privation, cannot be conceived without some real subject in debases us.
wh ich it exists; and there is nothing rea l which docs not have some
goodness in it. Hence the hatred which takes us away from some evil 143. The same passio11s i11 so far as tbey relate to desire
likewise takes us away from rhe good to which it is joined, and the We musr rake care to observe diat what I have just sa id about these four
privatio n of this good, bei ng represented to o ur soul as a fault belo nging passions holds o nly w hen rhcy are considered exactly in themselves, and
to it, aro uses sadness in it. fo r example, the hat red which rakes us away t hey do .not lead us to perform any action. fo r in so far as they govern 436
from someone's evi l habits likewi se takes us away from his company; ou r behaviour by producing desi re in us, it is certain that all those having
an d we might otherwise find in the latter some good which we should be a false ca use may be harmfu l, whi le by contrast all having a just cause
sorry to be deprived of. So too, in all other cases of hatred we can sec may be usefu l. And even when rhey rest o n equally bad foundations, joy
some reason for sadness. is usually more harmfu l than sadness, beca use the larrer engenders
resrraint a nd anxiety, and so disposes us in a ccrrain way to prudence,
"'34 q 1. Desire, joy and sadness whereas rhe former make those who abandon rhemselves to it rash and
As for desire, it is obvious that when it proceeds from true knowled ge it imprudent.
cannot be bad, provided it is not excessive and thar it is goveme-0 by t 44. Desires whose attai11111e111 depends 011/y 011 us
rhis knowledge. It is obvious too that joy cannot fail to be good, nor Bur because these passions cannot lead us to perform any action excepr
sadness bad, with respecr to the soul. For the discomfort which 1he soul by means of the desire they produce, it is this desire which we should take
receives from evil consists wholl y in the latter, and the enjoyment of the particular care ro conrrol; :md here lies the chief utilit)' of mor3 1ity. As I
good belonging ro rhe soul consists wholly in rhe former. T hus, if we had have just said, desire is always good when it conforms to rrue k nowledge;
no body, I ventuie ro say we could not go too for in abandoning o urselves likewise it can no r fail to he bad when based o n som e error . And it seems
to love and joy, o r in avoiding ha tred and scidn~ss. But the bodily to me that rhe error we commit most commonly in respect of des ires is
movements accompanying these pass ions 111ay all be injurio us to health failm e to disti nguish adequately the things which depend who lly on us
wbe11 they are very violent; o n the orher hand, rhcy may be beneficial ro it fro m those which do not depend on us at all. Regard ing those which
when they are only mod crarc. depend o nl y o n us - tha t is, on our free will - ou r knowledge of rheir
goodness ensures that we cannot desire them with too much ardour, 4}7
r 4 2. joy and lo11e, compared wit/, sadness and hatred since the pursui t of virtue consists in doing the good things that depend
Moreover, since hatred and sadness should be rejected by rhc soul, even on us, and iris certain rhat we cannot have too ardent a desire for virtue.
when they proceed from rrue knowledge, there is all rhc more reason to Moreover, whar we desire in this way cannot fail to have a happy
reject them when they result from some false opinion. But it may be outcome for us, since it depends on us alone, and so we always receive
435 questioned wlmher love and joy arc good when they resr in this way on a from it all the satisfocrion we expected from it . Bur rhe mista ke we
had foundation. Ir seems ro me that if we consider them just as they are in ordinarily make in this regard is never thar we desire too much; it is
themselves with respect to the sou l, we may say rhat alrhough joy is less rather that we desire too linle. The supreme remedy agai nst this mistake
secure, and love less beneficia l, than when they have a berrer founda tion, is to free our mind as much as possible from all kinds of other less usefu l
they arc still preferable to any sadness or hatred resring on an eq ually bad desires, and then to try ro know very clearly, and ro consider wi th
found atio n. Th us, in the affa irs of everyday li fo, where we cannot avoid attenrion, the goodness of that which is to be desired.
llK l'isk of being misraken, it is :d ways much better for us ro i11di11e
townrd' the passio ns which tend ro the good than for us to incline x4 5. Tbose desires which depend solely 011 other causes; and wl1at
tmv:lr<I' th o'>c wh ich relate to evi l (even if we do ~o only in o rder to avoid Fortune is
1t ); .111d even :i lal~c JOY i~oftcn lll<lrC val11ahk th(tl1 a ~adncss whose ca u ~c Regarding the things which do nor depend o n us in any way, we musr
" t11u l\u t I d.ir<' not say 1he '>:llllC ah1111t love 111 rdation to hat red. For never desire rhem wirh passion, however good they may be. T his holds
The Passio11s of tf1e Soul Part Two

not only because they may not happen, thus making us the more irritated that if we go by the route we regard as safer we shall nm al'oid hcing
the more strongly we wished for them, but chiefly because in occupying robbed, whereas we may travel by the other route without any danger. 440
o ur thoughts they pre\'ent our forming a liking for ocher things whose Nevertheless, we should nor be indifferent as to which one we chomc, or
ns acq uisirion depends on us. There arc two general remedies for such vain rely upon the immutable farahty of this decree. Reason insis1~ tha1 we
desires. The first is generosity, about which I shall speak later. The choose the route whi ch is usually 1he safer, and our desire in 1hi; caw
second 1s frequent reflection upon divine Providence: we should reflect must be fulfilled when we ha1e followed this route, whatever evil may
upon rhc focr rha r no rhin g can possibly happen 01her rhan as Providence befall us; for, since any such evil was inevitable from our poin1 of view,
has determined from all eternity. Providence is, so to speak, a fate or we had no reason t0 wish to be exempt from it: we had reason on ly IO do
immutable necessity, which we must set against fortune in order to the best that o ur intellect was ab le ro recognize, as I am supposing 1hat
expose the latter as a chimera which arises solely from an error of o ur we did. And it is certain tha1 when we apply ourselves to distingu i1h
inte llect. For we can desire only what we consid er in some way to Fatality from Fortune in this way, we easily acquire the hahit of
be possible; and things which do not depend on us ca n be considered governing our desires so t hat their fulfillment depends only on us, making
possible o nly in so far as they are thought to depend on Fortune - that is it possib le for them always to give us complete satisfaction.
co say, in so far as we judge that they may happen and thar similar things
have happened at other times. But this opinion is based solely on our not 147. The intental emotions of the soul
knowing all 1he causes which contribute 10 each effect. For when a thing Here I shaU merely add one funher considera1ion which, it seems to me,
we considered to depend on Fortune d()C) not happen, 1his indicates that serves very wel l to prevent us from suffering any discomfort from the
one of the causes necessary for its production was absent, and conse- passions. It is th at our well-being depends principally on internal
quent ly tha1 it was absolutely impossible and that no similar thing has emorions which arc produced in the soul only by the soul iisclf. In this
ever happened, i.e. nothing for the production of which a similar cause respect they differ from its passions, which always depend on some
was al~o absent. Had we not been ignorant of this beforehand, we shou ld movement of the spirics. Although these emotions of the soul arc often 441
ne1er have considered it possible and conscquemly we should ne1er have joined with rhe passions which are sim il ar to them, they frequently occu r
desired it. with others, and tbey may even originate in those to which they arc
opposed. For example, when a husband mo urns his de~1d wife, it
439 146. Those desires which depe11d 01111s and 011 others sometimes happens t hat he would be sorry to see her brought to life
\Y/c must, then, ucterly reject rhe common opi ni on that there is a Fortune aga in. It ma y be rhat hi heart is torn by the sadness a roused in him by
o ut:>ide us which causes things co happen 01 not to happen, just as it rhe funera l display and by the absence of a person to whose company he
pleases. And we must recognize tbat every1hing is guided by divine was accustomed. And ii may be that some remnants of love or of pity
Providence, whose eternal decree is infallible and immurable to such an occur in his imagination and draw genuine tears from his eyes. Nevcr1he-
extent that, except for matters it has determined to he dependent on our less he feels at the same time a sccre1 joy in his innermost soul, and the
frl'C will, we must consider everythmg that affects us to occur of necessity emotion of this joy has such power rhar the concomitant sad ness and
and as it were by fate, so that it would be wrong for us 10 desire things to tears can do nothing to diminish its force. Agai n, when we read of
happen in any other way. But most of our desires extend to matters srrange adventures in a book, or see 1hem acted out on the ;rogc, this
which do not depend wholly on us or wholly on others, and we must sometimes arouses sadness in us, sometimes joy, or love, or hatred, and
therefore rake care to pick out just what depends only o n us, so as to limit generally any of the passions, depending on the diversity of the objects
our desire ro that alone. As for th e rest, although we must consider their which arc presented to our imagination. But we also have pleasure in
o utcome to be wholly fated and imnn11able, so as to pre1ent our desire feeling them aroused in us, and 1his pleasure is an intellectual joy which
from occupying itself wi th t hem, yet we must not fail to consider the may as readi ly origi nale in sadness as in any of the other passions.
reasons which make them more or less predictable, so as to use these
rc.1som. in governing our actions. Thus, for cx:11nplc, su ppose we have 148. The exercise of virtue is a s11preme remedy agai11st the passio11s
h11s111c<,s in some place to which we migh1 1rnvel by rwo different ro utes, Now these interna l emotio ns affec1 us mo re intimately, and conseq uently
0111 ll\lHlll y much safer 1han the ocher. And ; npposc Providence decrees have much more power over us than the passions whi ch occur with them 44 l.
The Passions of the Soul

but are distinct from them. To this extent it is certain that, provided our
soul always has the mea ns of happiness within itself, all the troub les
coming from elsewhere arc powerless to harm it. Such troubles will serve
rather to increase its joy; for on seeing that it cannot be harmed by them,
it becomes aware of its perfection. And in orde r that our soul should have
the means of happiness, it needs only to pursue virtue diligently. For if
anyone lives in such a way that his co nscience cannot reproach him for
e1er failing to do something he judges to be the best (which is whar l here PA RT T HREE
call 'pursuing vinue'), he will receive from this a satisfaction which has
such power ro make him happy that rhe most violent assaults of the Specific Passions 44 3
passions will never have sufficient power to disturb t he tra nq uill ity of his
soul. 149. Esteem and contem/Jt
After having explained the six primitive passions - which are, as it were,
the genera of which all the others are species - I sha ll make brief
observations about the special features of each of the ochers, keeping the
same order as in tbe foregoing enumeration. The first two are esteem and
contempt. Usually the terms 'esteem' and 'contempt' signify onl)' ou r
dispassionate opin ions concerni ng a thing's value. But such opinions
often give rise co passions having no pa nicular name, and it seems to me
that the terms ma y be applied to these passions. Esteem, regarded as a
passion, is the soul's inclina tion to represent to itself the value of the 444
o b jeer o f irs esteem, this inclination bei ng caused by a special movement
of d1e spirits which are so directed in the bra in chat rhey strengthen the
impressions having this effect. The passion of contempt, on the other
hand, is the soul 's inclination to consider the baseness or insign ificance of
the object of its contempt, and is caused by a movement of the spirits
which strengthens th e idea o f this insignificance.

r 50. These two passions are m erely species of 111011der


So these two passions arc merely species of wonder. For when we do not
wonder at the greatness or the insignificance of an object, making no
more of it and no less of it than reason deems we ought, then o ur esteem
or contempt for it is dispassionate. And although esteem is often aroused
in us by love, and contempt by hatred, this does not hold generally: it
results simply from o ur being more or less incl ined to consider the
greatness or the insignificance of an object because we have more or less
affection for it.

r 5 t. We may haue esteem or contempt for ourselues


[n general, these two passions may relate co all sorts of objects. But they
are chiefly noteworthy when we refer chem to o urselves, i.e. when it is 445
o ur own merit for which we have esteem or contempt. The movement of
The l'assions of the Soul Part '/'hree

the spi rits which causes t hem in this case is so manifest that it changes 155. Wlhat fmmilityasa virttteconsists in
even the appeara nce, gesrures, gait and, generally, all the actions of those Thus the most generous p~'Oplc arc usually also the most humble. We
who conceive an unusually bencr or worse opinion of themselves. have humi lity as a virtue when, as a result of reflecting on the infirm ity of
our nature and on the wrongs we may previously have done, or arc
T p .. For what reasons we may have esteem for ourselves capable or doing (wrongs which are no less serious than those which
Since one of the principa l parts of wisdom is to know in what manner orhcrs may do), we do not prefer ourselves to anyone else and we think
and for what reason anyone ought to have esteem or contempt for that since others have free will jusr as much as we do, they may use it just
himself, I shall rry to give my views on this question. I see only one thing as well as we use ours.
in us which could give us good reason for esteeming ourselves, namely,
the exercise of our free will and the control we have over our volitions.
For we can reasonably be praised or blamed only for actions that depend 156. The properties ofgenerosity; a1rd how generosity serves as a
upon this free will. It renders us in a certain way like God by making remedy agaillSt alf the. disorders of the passions
us masters of ourselves, provided we do not lose th e rights it gives us l110se who are generous in this way are naturally led to do great deeds,
through rimidity. and at the same time not to undertake anrthing of which they do not feel
thcmsehes capable. And because they esteem nothing more highly rhan 4<18
153. What generosity consists i11 doing good to others and disregardi ng their own self-interest, they arc
Thus I believe that true generosity, which causes a person's self-esteem to always perfectly courreous, gracious and ob liging to everyone. Moreover
446 be as great as it may legitimately be, has only two components. The first they have complete comma nd over their passions. ln particula r, they
consists in his knowing that nothing truly belongs to him but this free- have mastery over rhcir desires, and over jealousy and envy, because
dom to dispose his voli tion>, and that be oughtto be praised or blamed for everything they think sufficiently valuab le ro be worth pursuing is such
no other reaoon tha n his using this freed om well or badly. The second rhar its ocqui~i tion depends solely o n themselves; over hat red o f other
consists in his feeling within hi mself a firm and constant resolution to use people, because they have esteem for everyone; o ver fea r, because of the
it well - that is, never ro lack the w ill to undcnake and carry out self-assurance w hich confidence in their own virtue gives the m; and
whatever he judges ro be best. To do that is to pu rsue virtue in a per fect fi nall y over anger, because they have very little esteem for everything that
manner. depends o n o thers, and so t hey never give their enemies any advantage by
ackno wlcdgi ng that they arc injured by them.
154. Generosity prevents us fmm havi11g contempt fo r others
Those who possess rhis knowledge :rnd this feeling about themselves
rea dily come t'O believe that any oth er person can have the same 157. Vanity
kno wledge and feeli ng about himself, because rhis involves nothing All who conceive a good op inion of themselves for an y o ther reason,
which depends on someone else. That is why such peo ple never have whatever it might be, do not possess true generosit)', but only a vanicy
contempt for anyone. Although t hey often see that others do wrong in which is alway> a vice, and is all the more so the less justi fication such
ways that show up their weakness, they are nevertheless more inclined to people have for esteeming themselves highly. They have the least
excuse than to blame them and to regard such wrong-doing as due rather justification when they are vain for no reason at all -that is, nor because
to lack of knowledge than to lack of a vi rtuous will. Just :u they do not they think t hey have any merit for which they ought to be valued, but
consider themselves much inferior to those who have greater wealth or simply because they do not regard merit as imponam: imagining pride co
honour, or even to those who have more inrell igence, knowledge or be nothing bu t self-glorification, they belie.-c that rhose who atrribure the 449
beaury, or generally to those who surpass them in some other perfections, most merit to themselves actually have the most merit. This vice is so
equally they do not ha.-e much more esteem for themselves than for those unreasonable and absu rd that I would find ir difficult to believe there are
H 7 whom they surpass. For all these things seem to them t0 be very men who allow thcmsel\'es to fall into it, if no one was ever praised
unimportant, by contrast with the vi rtuous will for which alone they unjustly. But flattery is so common everywhere that there is no man
t:\teem themselves, and which the)' suppose also to be present, or at least whose faults are so great that he never finds himself esteemed for t hings
tp;thlc or being prc,cnt, in every other person. which arc nor praiseworthy or even for things which are blameworthy.
The Passions of the Soul Part Three

This cau ses the most ignora nt and most stupid people to fall into this sort opinion is unjustified in the one case and justified in the other- I think we
o f vanity. can relate tliem to one and the same passion. This passion is produced b)'
a movement made up of those of wonder, of joy, and of love (self-love as
158. The effects of van ity are contrary to those of generosity much as the love we have for the cause of our self-esteem). On tlie other
The voli1ion we feel within ourselves always co make good use of our free hand, rhe movement which produces humility, whether of the virtuous or
will results, as I have said, in generosity. Bue any ocher cause of the vicious kind, is made up of those of wonder, of sadne.ss, and of
self-esteem, whatever it might be, produces a highly blameworthy vanity, sell-love mingled with ha tred for the foul rs that give rise to self-contempt. 451
which is so different from true generosity that it has quite the oppos ite And th e difference I observe between these movements arises wholly
effects. For all other goods, like intelligence, beauty, riches, honours, etc., from two properties of the movement of wonder: first, that surprise
are commonl y esteemed so highly because so few people have them, and makes the movement vigorous from the start; and second, that rhe
for the most part their nature is such that they canno t be shared by ma ny movement continues uniformly in th is way, i.e. the spirits continue to
people. The result is rhat vain people attempt to humble everyone else: move in the brain with the same degree of vigour. Of these properties rbc
being slaves to their desires, they have souls which are constantly agitated first is found much more in vanity and a bjectness than in generos ity and
by hatred, envy, jealousy, or anger. humility of the virtuous kind; the second, on the other hand, is more
prom inent in the latter pair than in the former. The reason for this is that
450 159 . H1m1ilityasa vice
Abjectness, or humi li1y as a vice, consists chiefly in a feeling of weakness vice usuall y proceeds from ignorance, and those with rhe least knowledge
o r irresolution, together with an incapacity !O refrain from actions which of themselves are the most liable to become prouder or humbler than
we know we shall regret later on, as if we lacked the full use of our free they ought. For they are surprised by an)'thi ng new that comes their way,
will . It involves also the belief that we cannot subsist by ourselves o r get and so they attribme it ro themselves and wonder at themselves, and have
along without many things whose ac<1uisitio n depends on others. Thus it either esteem or contempt fo r themselves depending o n whether they
is directly opposed to generosity, and it often happens that the most judge the novelty co be to th eir advantage or not. But often one thing that
makes t hem proud is followed by another that makes 1hem humble; and
mean -spirited people are the most arrogant and haughty, just as the most
for this reason their passion invo lves a variable movement of the spirits.
generous are the most modest and humble. But whereas those who have a
On the orher hand , there is no incom patibilit)' between generosity and
strong and generous spi rit do not change their mood to suit the
prosperity or adversity w hich comes their way, those with a weak and humility of the virtuous kind, nor is the re anything else which might
abject spirit are guided by chance alone, and are no more elated by change them; this resul ts in thei r movements being firm, constant and
prosperity than humbled by adversity. Indeed, we often see chem always very similar to each o ther. But these movements are not due so
shamefully a base themselves before those from whom they expect some much to surprise, because rhose who esteem themselves in this way are
advantage or fear some evil, while at the same time they insolently lord it well acquainted with tlie ca uses of their self-esteem. It may be said,
howeve r, that these causes are so marvellous (namely, the power to make
over those from whom they do not expect o r fear an)'thing.
use of o ur free will, which causes us to value ourselves, and the infirmiries 45 3
4 51 160. The movement of the spirits in these passions of the subject w ho has this power, which cause us not to esteem ourselves
It is easy to see that vanit y and abjectness are not only vices but also too highly) that each time we consider them afresh th ey arc a source of
passions. For their emorio n is quite apparent in the demeanour of rhose new wonder.
who are suddenly elated or depressed by some new happening. But it may
be questioned whether generosity and humility, which are virtues, can i 61. How generosity may be acquired
also be passions. For their movements are .less apparent, and it seems tha t It should be noted that what we commonly call 'virtues' are ha bits in the
virtue is not so closely associated with passion as vice is. Yet I sec no soul which dispose it to have certain thoughts: though different from the
reason why the same movement of chc spirits which serves to strengthen thoughts, these habirs can produce them and in turn can be produced by
a thought which has bad foundations might not also strcngrhcn one that is them. It should also be no ted that the thoughts may be prod uced by the
well-founded. And because vanity and generosity consist si mply in the soul alone; but it ofte11 ha ppens that some movement of the spirits
i:ood opinion we have of ourselves - th e o nly d ifference l>eing th at thi s strengthens them, and in this case they are both actions o f virtue and at
The Passions of tbe So,,/ Part Three

the sa me time passions of the '><JUI. There is, it seems, no virtue so noble and generous our soul is, the more we are inclined co render to each
dependent on good binh as the virtue which causes us to esteem person that which belongs to him; thus, noc only do we have a very deep
ourselves in accordance with our true 1aluc, and it is easy to bcliC\'C that humility before God, buc also we arc not reluctant to render to each 456
the souls which God puts imo ou r bodies are not all equally noble and person all the honour and respect due to him accordi ng to his posicion
strong (which is wh)', following the vernacular, I have called this virtue and auchority in the world, and we have concempr solely for vices. On che
'generosity' rather than 'magnanirmry', a term used in the Schools, where other hand, abject and weak spirics are liable co sin by excess, sometimes
this virtue is not well known). Ir is certa in , however, that a good in revering and fearing things which deserve norhing but comempc, and
upbringing is a grear help in correcting defects of birth. Moreover, if we sometimes in haughtily scorning chings which are mosc deserving of
454 occupy ourselves frequently in conoidcring the nature of free will and rhe reverence. T hey ofren pass very rapid ly from extreme impiety 10 supcrsci
many advantages which proceed from a firrn resolucion to make good use tion, and then from superstition hack to impiety, so that there is no vice
of it - wh ile also considering, on the other hand, the many va in and or disorde r of the mind of which they are not capable.
useless cares which trouble ambitious people - we may arouse the
passion of generosity in ourselves and then acquire the virtue. Since this i65. Hopea11d anxiety
virtue is, as it were, the key to all the other virrucs and a general remedy Hope is a disposition of rhe soul to be convinced thac what it desires will
for every disorder of the passions, ir seems to me that this consideration come about. Ir is caused by 3 particular movement of the spirits,
deserves serious attention. consisting of the movement of joy mixed wich that of desire. And anxiety
1 62. Ve11eratio11 is another disposition of che soul, which convinces it that its desires will
Veneration or respect is an inclination of the soul not only to have esteem noc be ful6lled. It should be noted that these rwo passions, ahhough
for th e object that it reveres bm also to submit to it with some fear in opposed, may nevertheless occur together, namely when we think of
order w try 10 gain ics favour. Accordingly we have veneration only for reasons for regarding the fulfilment of the desire as easy, and at the same
free causes which we judge capable of doing us good or evil, without our time we think of other reasons which make it seem difficult.
knowing which they will do. For we have love and devotion rather than
simple veneration for those causes from which we expect only good, and 166. Confidence and despair 459
we have hatred for those from which we expect only evil. And if we do Neither of these passions ever acco mpanies desire withouc leaving some
not judge the cause of this good or evil to be free, we do not submit to it room for the other. For when l1ope is >O strong rhat it entirely excludes
in order to rry to gain its favour. Thus, when the pagans had veneration anxiery, its nature changes and ic is ca lled 'confidence' or 'assurance'.
45 5 for woods, springs, or moumains, it was not stricrly speaking these dead And when we are assured char what we desire will come about, then
rhings that they revered, but the divinities which they believed 10 although we sti ll want it to c.omc abour we arc no longer agitaccd by the
preside 01er them. The movement of the spirits which produces this passion of desire, which made us await the outcome with concern. All the
p~ion io composed of rhat which produces wonder and that which same, when anxiety is so extreme that it leaves no room for hope, it
produces fear (about which I shall speak later). changes imo despair; and this despair, representing the rhing desired as
impossible, entirely extingurshes desire, which applies only 10 things thac
<63. Scom are possible.
At the same cime, what I ca ll 'scorn' is our soul's inclination 10 despise a
free cause in judging ic so far beneath us thac, alchough by narure capable
of doing good or evil, it is inca pable of doing either to us. And rhe 167. jealousy
movement of the spirits which produces scorn is composed of those Jealousy is a kind of anxiety which is related to our desire to preserve for
which produce wonder and confidence or boldness . ourselves the possession of some good . It docs not result so much from
the strength of the reasons which make us believe we may lose che good,
1 64. The (1111ction of these 11.110 passions as from rhe high esteem in which we hold ir. This causes us to examin e
It is generosity and weakness of spiri t or abjecrncss which determine the slightest grounds for doubt, and to regard them as very considerable
whether these two passions h:ive n good or an evil use. For the mor. reasons.
The l'assio11s of the Soul Part Three 391

i 68. Iii what respect tlm passio11 may be proper weakness of chc imellecr, which contains only a lot of confusl-d notions,
Because we ought to take more care to preserve goods which are very and none chat are dear and distinct. That is why the remedy against such
great than those which arc less great, this passio n may be right and excess is to become accustomed to form certain and dctcrnu natc
proper o n certain occasions. Thus, for example, a captain defending a judgements regarding everyth ing that comes before us, and to believe
very impo rranc position has the right to be jea lous of it, i.e. to examine that we always do o ur duty when we do what we judge robe bc;t, even
with great care all the ways b)' wh ich it might be surprised; and a rhough ou r judgement may perhaps be a vet)' bad 011e.
virtuous woman is not blamed for being jealous of her honour, i.e. for
i 71. C-011ragc a11d boldness
taking care not onl)' to behave well but also to avoid even the slightest
C3use for scandal. Courage, when a passion and not a habit or natural inclination, i~ a
certain heat or agirarion which disposes th e soul to apply itself energeti-
i69. /ti what respect ;ealo11sy is blamervorthy cally ro accomplish the casks ir wants to perform, whatever their nature
But we laugh at a miser when he is jealous of his hoard - that is, when he may be. And boldness is a kind of courage which disposes the soul to
gazes fondly at it and wants it always near him for fear of its being stolen carry out chc most dangero us tas ks.
- for money is not wo rth the troub le of such safeguarding . And we have 1 7~. 11111/atiou
contempt for a man who is jealous of his wife, beca use this indicates that Emub rion is also a kind of courage, but in another sense. For we may
he docs not lo,e her in the right wa)' and rhat he has a bad opin ion of regard cou rage as a gen us which divides into as many species as it has
himself or of her. I say that he does not love her in the right way, for if he different objects, and into as many orhcrs as it has causes: boldness is a
truly loved her he would not have any inclination to distrust her. But
species of courage in the first sense, and emula tion in rhe second. The
~59 what he loves is not strictly her: it is only the good he imagines to consist latter is nothing but a heat wh ich disposes the soul to unden ake tasks in
in his having sole: possession of her. And he would have no anxiety about which ii hopes to be able to succeed because ic sees ochers succeed in
the loss of this good if he did not think himself to be unworthy of it, or chem. Thus it is a species of courage of which the external cause is an
his wife to be unfaithful. Moreover chis passion is related only to example. I say 'external cause' because in addition there must always be
suspicion and distrust, for someone is not properly ~peaking jealous if he an interna l ca use which consists in o ur body's being so dispmed chat
tries to avoid an evil abo ut which he rightly feels anxious. des ire and hope have more power ro ca use a quantity of blood to go to
the heart than fear or despair have to stop it.
170. lrresol11tio11
lrrcsolucion is also a kind of anxiety. Keeping the sou l balanced, as it 173. Howbold11ess depe11ds 011 bope
were, between several actions open to it, irresolution causes it not to For it must be observed that the obJect of boldness is some difficulty
perform any of them, and thus gives it time to make a choice before which usually resulis in anxiety or even despair. Thus it is the mosr
committing itself. In chis respect, indeed, it has a beneficial function. But dangerous and desperate affairs in which we exercise the most boldness
when it lasts longer than it o ught, making us spend in deliberation the and courage . .le is essential, however, that we should hope for success in
time required for action, it is extremely bad. I call it a kind of anxiety attaining the goal, or even chat we should be assured of it, in order to
even though we might remain uncertain and irresolute, while feeling no tackle vigoro usly the difficulties we encounter. But the goal is different
:111xiety at all, when we can choose between severa l things which appear from the object; for we could not be :1ssured of something and also be
equally good. Bue this sort of irresolution proceeds merel)' from the despera te about it at rhe same rime. Thus, when the Dccii threw
object before us and not from any movement of the spirits. That is why it themselves against the enemy and ran to certain death, rhc object of tbeir
is not a passion, unless ic happens that our anxiety of choosing wrongly boldness was rhc difficulty of preserving their lives during rhis action, and
increases our uncertainty. But this anxiety is so common and so strong in about this difficulty they felt only despair, since they were certain co die.
\Orne people that although they have no need to make a choice and they But their goal was to inspire their soldiers by their example and to cause
\CC on ly one thing to be taken or left, the anxiety often holds them back them to win the victory, and they had some hope of achieving that; or
.111d makes t hem pau~c to search in vain for something el se. In chis case an else they had a further goa l of ga ining glory after th eir death, and of this
l'Kll"" of irrcsolmion results fro m 100 great a desire to do well and from a they were assured.
392 The Passions of the Soul l'art Three 393

r74. Timidity and fear good. Bur because remorse presupposes evil, it would be berrer never t0
T imidity is directly opposed to courage. It is a listlessness or co ldness have occasion to feel it; and we may prevent it by the same means as
which prevents the soul from bringing icsell ro carry out the tasks which those by which we can free ourselves from irresolution.
ir would perform if it were free from this passion. And fear or terror,
which is opposed ro bo ldness, is not onl y a co ldness, bur also a
178. Derision
d isturbance and astonishment of the soul which deprives it of che power Ridicule or derision is a kind of joy mixed wirb hatred, which results
to resist rhc evils which ir thin ks lie close at hand.
from o ur perceiving some small evi l in a person wbom we consider to
desene ir: we have hatred fo r rbe ev il, but joy to see it in one who
~7 5. The function of timidity
deserves it. Wbcn chis comes upon us uncxpecrcdl y, t he surprise of
Althoug h I cannot believe that nature has given co mankind any passion
wonder causes us to burst inro laughter, in accordance wirh what l said
which is a lways vicious and has no good or praiseworthy function, I still
above about the nature of laughter. 1 Bur the evil must be insignificant.
find it very di fficu lt to guess what purpose these rwo passions might
For if ir is great, we cannot believe that the one who has ir deserves it
serve. It seems co me chat timidity has some use only when it frees us
un less we have a very bad nature o r we bear much hatred towards him.
from making efforts which plausible reasons might move us ro make if
chis passion had nor been aroused by other, more certa in reason s, which
made us judge rhe efforts ro be useless. Besides freeing the soul from such 179. Why the most imperfect people are usually the most given to
efforts, it is also useful for the body in chat ir slows the movement of the derision
spirits and rbereby prevents us from wasting our energy . But usually it is Those who have some quite o bvious defect (for example, being lame,
very harmfu l, because ic d iverts the will from usefu l accions. And because blind in one eye, or hunch-backed) or who have received some public
it rcsulcs simply from our having insufficient hope or desire, we need only insult, are observed to be especia ll y inclined to derision. Desiring ro see
increase chese rwo passions wi thin us in order to correct ir. all others as unfortunate as themselves, they are very pleased by the evils
that befall them, and bo ld them deserving of these evils .
176. The ftmction of fear
In rhe case of fear or terror, I do not see rhac it can ever be praiseworthy
I 8o. The function of mockery
or useful. It, too, is not a specific passion, bur merely an excess of
When a person shows up vices in their proper light by making them
timid ity, wonder and anxiety - an excess which is always bad, just as
appear rid iculous without laughing ar them and wirhour showing any
boldness is an excess of courage which is always good (provided the
harred for t hose w ho ha ve them, he engages in that gentle mockery which
end proposed is good) . And because the principal cause of fea r is
is nor a passion, but rather the trait of a good man. It bears witness to the
surprise, there is no berrer way ro avoid ir than to exercise forethought
cheerfulness of his rem per and rhe tranquillity of his soul, which are signs
and prepare onese lf for any eventuality, anxiety about which may cause
of virtue; and it often shows the quickness of his mind, in his ability ro
it. put a pleasant gloss o n rhe objects of his mocker)'.
464 177. Remorse
Remorse of conscience is a kind of sadn ess which results from our 181 . The function of laughter in mockery
do ubting that something we are doing, or have done, is good . Ir It is nor imprope r ro laugh when we hear someone else's mockery; we
necessari ly presupposes doubt. For if we were w holly certain rbat what may even find it hard not ro laugh. Bur when we ou rselves engage in
we are doing is bad, we would refrain from doing it, since rhe will rends mockery, it is more firrin g to refrain from laugh ing, so as not ro seem co
on ly towards objects that have some sembl ance of goodness. And if we be surprised by the things we say or to wonder at our wit in thinking
were ccrrnin that what we have already done was bad, we wou ld feel them up. This makes chem all the more surprising ro those who hear
repentance for it, nor simply remorse. The function of this pass ion is ro them.
11 i.1k c us inquire whee-her rhc object of o ur doubt is good or not, and to
1ir1vc11r our doing it another rime, as long as we arc not ce rtain chat it is l Art. 1q, p. 37 1 Jbovt.
394 The Passions of the Soul Part Three 395

r8z. Envy hatred causes bile - both the yellow bile that comes from the lower part
What we usually call 'envy' is a vice consisting in a natural perversiry of the liver, and the black that comes from the spleen - to spread out
which causes certain people ro be annoyed at the good the)' see coming to from the heart through the arteries into all the veins. And sadness causes
others. But I am using this word bere ro signify a passion which is not the blood in the veins to become less hot and flow more slowly than usual
always vicious. Envy, then, in so far as it is a passion, is a kind of sadness - which is enough ro make the colour livid. But because there may be
mingled with hatred, which results from our seeing good coming to those several different factors which cause the bile (whethe r yellow or black) to
467 we think unworthy of it. Such a thought can be jusrified only in the case flow in the veins, and envy does not send it there in a sufficiently large
of goods due to fortune. For as regards the advantages we possess from quantity ro change the colour of the complexion unless it is very great
birth - those of the soul or even of the body - the fact that we received and of long duration, we must not think that everyone in whom we see 469
them from God before we were capable of doing any evil suffices to make this colour is inclined to enV)'
us worthy of them.
l85. Pity
183. Horv envy can be j1<st or unjust Pity is a kind of sadness mingled with love or with good will towards
But sometimes fortune gives advantages to someone who is really those whom we see suffering some evil which we think they do not
unworthy of them. Then envy stirs in us only because, having a natural deserve. Thus it is opposed to envy in view of its object, and opposed to
love of justice, we are vexed that it is not upheld in the distribution of derision because the object is considered in a different way.
these goods. In this case our envy indicates a zeal which may be
excusable, especially when the nature of rhe good we envy in rh e other
person is such that in his hands it may be converted into an evil - e.g. if it r 86. Those who are most given to pit)'
is some duty or office in the exercise of which he may behave badly. Those who think themselves very weak and prone to the adversities of
When we desire the same good for ourselves and we are prevented from fortune seem to be more inclined to this passion than others, because they
having it because it belongs to others who are less worthy of it, this think of the evil afflicting others as capable of befalling themselves . Thus
makes the passion more violent: but it is still excusable, provided the they are moved to pity more by the love they bear towards themselves
hatred it contains relates so lely to rhe bad distribution of rhe good we than by the love they have for others.
envy, and not to the people who possess it or distribute ir. But few
people arc so just and so generous chat they do nor bear hatred towards r87. How the most generous people are touched by this passio11
those who forestall them in the acquisition of a good which cannot be Nevertheless those who are the most generous and strong-minded, in that
shared by many and which they had desired for themse lves, even though they fear no evil for themselves and hold themselves to be beyond the 4 70
468 those wbo have acquired it are as much, or even more, worthy of it. And power of fortune, are not free from compassion when they see the
what is usually most envied is glory. For although its belonging to others infirmities of other men and hear their complaints. For it is a part of
does not prevent us from aspiring to it ourselves, at the same time that generosity to have good will towards everyone. But the sadness of this
makes its acquisition all the more difficult and its value greater. pity is not bitter: like that caused by the tragic actions we see represented
on the stage, it is more external, affecting the senses more than the
i 84. How it comes abo1<t that 1t11vious people are apt to have a leaden interior of the soul, which yet has the satisfaction of th in ki ng that it is
complexion doing its duty in feeling compassion for those afflicted. There is also this
There is, moreover, no vice so detrimental to human happiness than that difference, that whereas rbe ordinary man has compassion for those who
of envy. For, apart from the fact that those tainted with it make complain, because he thinks the evils they suffer are very distressing, the
themselves unhappy, they also do everything in their power to spoil the chief object of the pity of the greatest men is the weakness of those whom
pleasure of others. And they usually have a leaden complexion - that is, they see complaining. For they think that no misfortune could be so great
one that is pale, a mixtu re of yellow and black, like a livid bruise (hence an evil as the timidity of those who cannot endure it with forbearance.
the Latin word for envy is livor). This agrees very well with what was And although they hare vices, they do not on that account hate those
,.11d :1bovc about t he movements of the blood in sadness and hatred. For whom they see prone to them: they merely pity them.
The Passions of the Soul Part Three 397

188. Those who are not touched by pity spiri ted people repent of deeds they have done without knowing for
But those who are insensible to pity comprise o nly ev il-minded and certain tha t they arc evi l; they are convi nced of chis simply because they 473
envious people who narurally hate all man kind, or people who are so fear it is so, and if they had done the opposite, they would repent in the
471 brutish and so thoroughly bl inded by gnod fortune or rendered sa me way. This is an impecfection deserving of pit)', and the remedies
desperate by bad forrune, that they do not think any evil could possibly against rhis fault arc the same as those which serve to dispel irresolution.
befall them.
19~. Favour

r89. \Vhy this passio11 moves us to tears Fa,our is properly speaking a desire to see good come to someone for
Moreover, we weep very easily in this passion because love sends a lot of whom we have good will. But here I use 'favour' to mean this good will in
blood to t he heart and so causes many vapours to flow from the eyes; and so for as ii is aroused in us b)' some good a~-tion of the person towards
the coldness o f rhe sadness makes these vapours move more slowly and whom we bear it. For we are naturally inclined to love those who do
so change into tears, in accordance with what has been said above.' deeds we judge good even though we get no benefit from them. Favour in
this sense is a kind of love, not desire, 1hough it is always accompanied by
190. Self-satisfaction the desire to sec good come to the one whom we favour. And ic is usually
T he satisfaction of rhosc who steadfastly pursue virtue is a habit of their joined 10 pity because the misfortunes we see befa ll unfortunate persons
soul which is called 'tranquillity' and 'peace of mind'. But the fresh cause us 10 reflect all the more on their merits.
sarisfaction we gain when we have just performed an action we think
r93. Gratitude
good is a passion - a kind of joy whi ch I consider to be the sweetest of all Gratitude is also a kind of love aroused in us by some action on the part
joys, because its cause depends only on ourselves . Bu t when this cause is of the person for whom we have it - an actio n by which, we believe, he 474
not just , i.e. when t he actions from which we derive great satisfaction arc has done us some good, or at least he had the intentio n to do so. Thus it
not very importa nt or are even vicious, the satisfaction is absurd and ha~ the same content as favour, and the more so in t hat it is based on an
serves o nly w produce a kind of va nity and impertinent arrogance. T his aciion wh ich affect s us and which we desire to reciprocate. This is why it
is noticeable especially in chose who believe th emselves devout, but are has mu ch mo re strength, especially in the souls of th ose who arc to any
merely bigoted and superstiti ous. T hese are people who - under the degree noble and generous.
pretexr of frcq ucmly going to church, reciti ng many pr ayers, wea ring
th ei r hair sho re, fasting, and giving al ms - think they are absolutely 194. l11grati111de
perfect and imagine they a rc such close friends of God that th ey could not As to ingrati tu de, ii is not a passion, for nature has not placed in us any
do anyrhing to displ ease him. They suppose that anything their passion move ment of the spirits which produces it. It is simply a vice di rectly
dictates is a commendable zeal, even though it sometimes dict ates the opposed to gratitude, in so far as the latter is always a virtue and one of
greatest crimes ihat men can commit, such as the betraya l of cicies, the the principal bonds of human society. Accordingly this vice belongs only
killi ng of sovereigns, and the extermination of whole nations for th e sole ro brutish, fool i~h l y arrogant people who thi nk that all th ings are their
reason that the citizens do noc accept their opinions. due, or to stupid people who never reOect on the benefits they receive. lt
is also found in weak and abject people who, aware of their infirmity and
t 9 r. Repe11ta11ce need, basely seek the help of others and then, having got it, hate them.
Repentance is directly opposed to self-satisfaction. It is a kind of sadnes~, They do this because, lacking the will co return the favour or despairing
which results from our believing chat we have done some evil deed; and 1t of their ability to do so, and thinking that everybody is grasping like
is very birrcr because ics cause lies in ourselves alone. But this does not themselves and that no good is e\cr done without the hope of recom-
prevent irs being very useful when the action of which we repent is truly pense, they think they have decei,ed thei r benefactors.
evil and we know this for certain, because then our repentance prompts
u~ to do better o n another occasion. But ic often happens chat weak- 195. fodignation 475
Indignation is a kind of haired or aversion that we naturally have
1 Art. 1 :i8t p. nl abo\.t. cowards those who do some evil, whatever it may be. Although often
The l'assions of the So11/ Part Three 399
mingled with envy o r pity, it has an object tha1 is wholly different. For we their condition or fortune, dare to find fault in the way rhe universe is
are indignant only towards those who do good or evil to people who do regulated and in the secrets of Providence.
not deserve it. But we arc envious of those who receive such a good, and
we pity those w ho receive th e evil. It is true that to possess a good which 199. Anger
we do not deserve is in some way to do evil. This may be 1he reason w hy Anger is also a kind of hacrcd o r aversion that we have rowards those
Aristotle and his followers supposed envy always to be a vice, and 1hus who have done some evil or who have rried to harm nor just anyone rhey
called the envy which is not a vice by the name ' indignation'. 1 happen to meet but us in particular. Thus it has the same content as
indignation, and the more so in that it is based o n an action which affecrs
196. Why i11dig11atio11 is sometimes joi11ed to pity, a11d sometimes to us and for which we have a desire ro avenge ourselves. For this desire
derisio11 nearly always accompanies it, and it is directly opposed to gratitude, as
To do evil is also in some way to receive evil. Consequently some people indignation is to favour. But it is incomparably more violent than these
join pity to thei r indignation, and others derision1 depen ding on whether other three passions, because the desire ro ward off harmful things and to
4 76 they bear good-will o r ill-will towards those whom they see committing avenge oneself is the most compelling of all desires. It is desire, joined to
fau lts. That is why t he laughter of Democritus and the tea rs of Heraclitus self-love, which makes anger involve as much agitation of the blood as 4 78
could proceed from rhc same cause. 2 courage a nd bo ldness can bri ng about ; and haired causes this agitation to
affect primarily the bilious blood coming from the spleen and the sma ll
r97. llldig11atio11 is often accompa11ied by wo11der a11d is not veins of the liver. This blood enrcrs into the heart and there, because of its
illcompatible with joy abundance and the nature of the bile with which it is mingled, it produces
Indignation is often accompanied by wonder too. for we usually suppose a hear more extreme and more intense than any rhat may be produced by
that everything will be done in the way that we judge it ought to be done love or joy.
- that is, in the way we consider good. This is why we are su rprised, and
made t0 wonder, when it happens otherwise. Indignation is also not 2.00. \'Vby those whom a11ger causes to flush are less to be feared than
incompatible with joy, though it is mo re usuall y joined t0 sadness. For those 1vhom it causes to grow pale
wben our indignation concerns an evil deed which cannot harm us, and The external sign s of this passio n di ffer according 10 d ifferent personal
we consider thar we would nor be willing co do such a thing, this gives us temperaments and the various other passions composing it or joined 10 it.
some pleas ure - which is perhaps one of 1he causes of the laughter thai 11rns we sec some grow pale or 1rernble when they become angry, and
sometimes accompanies chis passion.l others become flushed or even weep. It is usually thought rhat rhe anger
of those who g row pale is more to be lea red rhan the anger of those who
198. The fimctio11 of i11dig11atio11 become flushed. The reason for this is that when we arc unwilling or
Finally, indignation is observed much more in those who wish to appear unable to avenge ourselves except through our looks and words, we
virtuous than in those who reall y are virtuous. For although those who expend all our heat and energy from the moment we arc first aroused,
477 love vircue cannot look upon the vices of others wi1hout some aversion, a nd this causes us ro grow red. Sometimes, moreover, because we canno t
they do not become ince nsed except at the greatest and mos t extraordin- avenge ourselves in any oth er w:iy, we have such regret and self-pity that
ary vices. To be very indig nant about trivial matters is robe difficult and we arc caused to weep. On the other hand, rhose who restrain themselves
peevish ; it is unjust robe ind ignant about matters for which no one can and reso lve to take a greater vengeance become sad at the thought that 479
be blamed; and it is impertinent and absurd not to confine one's the action which makes them angry obliges rhem 10 cake such vengea nce;
indignation to the actions of human beings and co extend it to the works and sometimes they also have anxiety abou1 rhe evi ls which may ensue
ol God and nature. This is done by those who, never being comem with upo n rhe resolution they have taken. This makes them first rum pale and
cold, and start trembling. But when they later come ro take vengeance,
I ( r. Arutodt, Rhetorte II,,, r }86b9~ N1comachtaN thin 11. 7, 1108bz.. they become warm again to the degree that the>' were cold to begin with,
J.A1.\."'tudmg too story ''-'Cll known 111 IJttr :tnciqu1ry, Htradma wept. whereas Democritus
1+111Mhccl, at the follie~ of mankind. The ongrn of rhe story i\ unknown. just as we observe that fevers which begin wirh a chill usually become the
' AI a.7, I' }71 nbove. most severe.
The Passions of t/Je Soul Part Three
z.01. There are two sorts ofanger: the most kind-hearted persons are the they even prevent us from warding off the wrongs as well as W\' wuld if
most prone to the first we felt less emotion. But just :ts vanity more than anyclti ng d" make>
This shows us that we can distinguish two kinds of anger. One Ha res up anger excessive, so I think that generosity is the best remedy ch.u may be
quickly and is quire evident in external behaviour, but it has little effect found against irs excesses. For generosity causes us to hold in l<>W estee m
and is easy to assuage. T he ocher is nor so apparent at first, but gnaws al l rhc good thi ngs which may be taken away, and on the other hand. to
more at one's heart and has effects tha t are more dangerous. Those filled hold in high esteem the liberty and absolute control over ourselves wluch
with kindness and love arc more prone co the first; for it does not result we cease co have when someone else is able co injure us. Thus it causes us
from a deep hatred bur from an instant aversion which surprises them ro have nothing but contempt, or at the most indignation, for the wrongs
because they are inclined to imagine that all things ought to rake place in at which others usually cake offence.
the manner they judge to be best, and so they wonder and take offence as
soon as things turn out otherwise. This often happens e1en though the 204. Pride
matter docs not affect them personally, because their great affection What I here call 'pride' is a kind of joy based on the love we have for
makes them concerned for those they love in the same way as for ourselves and resulting from the belief or hope we ha,e of being praised
t hemselves. Thus, what would cause mere indignation in someone else is by certain other persons. Thus it is differenr lrom the internal satisfact ion
for them a cause of anger; and since their inclination for love fills their which oomes from our belief that we have performed some good actJon.
heart with much heat and blood, the aversion which surprises them must For we are sometimes praised for things we do nor believe to be good,
drive enough bile into the heart ro bring about a great commotion in this and blamed for those we believe to be better. Bur both are kinds of
blood. But this commotion does not last, because the strength o f the self-esteem, as well as kinds of joy. For seeing that we are esteemed highly
surprise does not continue, and as soon as they perceive that the object of by others is a reason for esteeming ourselves.
t heir anger ought not to disrnrb them so much, thcy repent of their anger.
205. Sham e
202. It is weak and abiect so11/s 111ho most allow themselves to be carried Shame on the other hand, is a kind of sadness based also on self-love,
away by the second sort ofanger which 'proceeds from the expectation or fear of being blamed. Besi~es
Tbc other kind of anger, in which hatred and sadness predominate, is not that, it is a kind of mod esty or humility and diffidence about oneself. For
so apparent at first except pcd1aps in so far as it makes the face grow when our self-esteem is so great that we cannot imagine anyone despising
pale. But its strength is gradually increased by the agitatjon which a us, we cannot easi ly be ashamed.
burni ng desire for vengeance srirs up in the blood; and the blood, hei ng
mixed with the bile driven to the heart from the lower pa re of the li ver 206. The fu1tctio11 of these two passions
and spleen, produces a very keen and piercing heat there. As it is the most Pride and shame ha vc the same function, in that tbcy move us to virtue,
generous souls who have the most gratitude, so it is those with the most the one rhrough hope and the other through anxiety. Ir is necessary o nl y
van iry, the most abject and weak, who let themselves most readily be to instruct our judgement regarding what truly deserves blame or praise
carried away by chis kind of anger. For the wrongs that arouse our anger in order chat we should not be ashamed of doing good and nor take
appear greater in proportion as vanity increases our self-esteem and also pride in our vices, as many people do. Bur it is not good to rid one-
in proportion to our esteem for che good things which they take away; self entirely of these passions, as the Cynics used co do. For although the
and the weaker and more abject our soul, the greater our esteem for these common people are very bad judges, yet because we cannot live without
good things, since they depend on others. them and it is important for us to be an object of their esteem, we should
often follow their opinions rather than our own regarding the outward
z.03. Generosity serves as a remedy against the excesses of anger appearance of our actions.
Finally, although this passion is useful in giving us the Strength co ward
off wch wrongs, there is no passion whose excesses we should rake more z.07. T111p11d1111ce
,.rn: to avoid. For such excesses confuse our judgement and often make Impudence or effrontery, which is a kind of contempt for shame and
"' ,ommu m1~d~'Cds of which we must afterwards repent. Sometimes often for pride too, is not a passion because rhere is no specific movement
The Passions of the 5011/ Part Thru

of the spirics which produces i1. It is rnther a vice opposed to shame and 2.t r. A general remedy against tbe passions
also 10 pride, inasmuch as these are both good, juse as ingratitude is Now char we are acquainted with all rhe passions, we have much less
opposed co gratitude and cruelcy to picy. Effrontery resulcs chiefly from reason for anxiecy abou1 them chan we had before. For we see chat they
our frequently being 1hc object of grave insulcs. When we arc young we arc all by nature good, and tha1 we have nothing to avoid but their 486
all imagine praise 10 be a good, and disg.race an evil, of greater practical misuse oc their excess, against which the remedies I have explained
imporcance than our subsequent t:.Xpericnce show> them to be. This might be sufficient if each person took enough care co apply them. I have
happens when, after receiv ing several grave insults, we see ourselves included among these remedies the forecboughr and diligence through
484 utterly srripped of honour and despised by everyone. Thal is why people which we can correct our natural faulcs by striving ro separate within
who assess good and evil solely in terms of bodily comfort become ourselves che movemencs of the blood and spirirs from 1he thoughts 10
insolent: they find 1hat after such insults they enjoy as much of this which they are usually joined. But I must admit that there arc few people
comfort as before, or sometimes even much more of ir. For they are then who have sufficiencly prepared themselves in rhis way for all the
free from many constraints co which honour bound them, and if their contingencies of life. Moreover, 1he objects of the passions produce
disgrace involves the loss of goods, they find cherc are always some movements in the blood which follow so rapidly frolll the mere impres-
charirable people who will make up their loss. siom formed in the brain and the disposition of the organs, without any
help ar all from the soul, tha1 no amount of human wisdom is capable of
2.08. Disgust counteracting these movements when we are not adequately prepared ro
Disgust is a kind of sadness which results from the same cause as that do so. Thus many people cannor keep frorn laughing when chey are
from which joy came previously. For we are so constituted that most of tickled, even though th ey get no pleasure from i1. For the impression of
the things we enjoy are good for us only for a time, and afterwards joy and surprise, which previously made them laugh for the same reason,
become disagreeable. This is evidenc especially in the case of drinking and is awakened in cheir imagi nation and causes their lungs 10 be swollen
earing, which are beneficial only so long as we have an appeci1e, and suddenly and involuntarily by blood sent to them from the heart. So coo,
harmful when we no longer have one. Because such things then cease to those who are strongly inclined by nature 10 the emotions of joy, pity,
be agreeable to our taste, this passion is called 'disgust'. 1 fear and anger, cannot prevent themselves from fain ting, weeping, o r
trembling, oc from having their blood all in turmoil just as if they had
2.09. Regret a fever, when their imagination is strongly affected by 1he objecr of
Regrec is also a kind of sadness. It has a parcicular birrcrncss in that it is
one of these passions. Hut there is something we can always do on such 487
485 always joined co some despair and to 1he memory of a pleasure thac gave
occasions, which I think I can put forward here as the mos1 general, and
us joy. For we regret only the good things which we once enjoyed and
most readily applicable remedy against all excesses of the passions. When
which are so completely lose 1hac we have no hope of recovering them ac
we feel o ur blood agirntcd in this way, we should take heed, and recollect
the time and in the fo rm in which we regret them.
that everything presented to the imagi nation tends to mislead the soul
210. Cbeerfu/11ess and make the reasons for pursuing the object of its passion appear much
Finally, what I call 'cheerfulness' is a kind of joy whkb has chis srrongcr than they arc, and the reasons for nor pursuing this object much
peculiarity: its sweetness is increased by the recollection of the evils we weaker. When the passion urges us to pursue ends whose attainmcnc
have suffe red, about which we feel relieved in the same way as when we involves some delay, we must refrain from making any immediate
feel ourselves lightened of some heavy burden which we have carried on judgement about them, and distract ourselves by ot her thoughts umi.l
our shoulders for a long time. I cannot see anything very remarkable in time an d repose have completely calmed the disturbance in our blood.
these three passions, and I have placed them here simply in order co Finally, when it impels us to actions which require an immediate
follow the order of the enumeration which I made above. But I chink this decision, the will must devote itself mainly to considering and following
enumeration has been useful in showing 1hac we have omitted no reasons which are opposed co those presented by 1he passion, even if they
p.1"ions which were worthy of specia l consideration. appear less strong. For example, when we are unexpectedly attacked by
an enemy, the situation allows no 1imc for deliberation; and yet, I think,
those who are accustomed to reflecring upon their :1Ctio11s can always do
Tbe Passions of the Soul

something in this siruation. That is, when they feel themselves in tbe grip
of fear they will try to turn their mind from consideration of the danger
by thinking abou t the reasons why there is much more security and
honour in resistance than in llight. O n the other hand, when rhey feel thar
488 the desire for vengeance and anger is impelling them to run thoughtlessly
towards their assailants, they will remember to think that it is unwise 10
lose one's life when it can be saved without dishonour, and thar if a Index
match is very unequal it is better to beat an honourable retreat or ask
quarter tha n stupidly to expose oneself to a certain death.
2bbrt"1~tcd rcprcscntit10t1S 43 anxfe1y J-4 2.35ol,352,;53,359,J79,
1. 1 >.. It is on tbe passions a/011e that all the good and evil of this life birncss HO. 3861, 388( J89-9.ipassim, 401
absolute thinp (n rcluvr rhing>) 1 t ( apprmrs, c:on<upooblc vs insable JS>
depe11ds absrraet tntnicJ s9( narural 108, 109, u6, 28of, 333, JJ7 1
For rhe rest, rhe soul can have pleasures of its own. Bur the pleasures abnracrion o4 1, 4 ,f, 51, 56, 58, 61, 63. 63, Hl
67(,6j( or thuoul (volitkJns) 346
common to it and the body depend entirely on the passions, so that aa:idcnt, UOIVtr~I 1.13 .-appition JS t
persons whom the passions can move most deeply are capable of action(!), ond p>ss1on(s) 328, J 35 AtchytasofT3ttntum 18
enjoying the sweetest pleasures of this life. It is true thar they may also oftl><soul JJl Ari.sto(elians ue scholasri<
ordi11;1ry conc:ept1on ol 134 philosophy/ philosophers
experience the most biuerness when they do not know how to pur these ctions, bodily, joined with rhoughu 344(, Arisrode 41n, 181, z.86f, z.89, 101n, 3191
passions to good use and when fortune works agai nst them. But the chief )65, 37l 198
use of wisdom lies in irs teaching us to be masters of our passions and to AclJm, Ch. andTannt"ry, P. x, 8 arichmedc 11 f,17f,51.58,6 rf
addition 71,73 u rithmcticfons 67 1 69
control them with such skill that the evils which they cause are quite ffection (kind of love) 357, }74,)SJ, 400 curogance 3 96
bearable, and even become a source of joy. ffections (ol things), ob1ccrs of artefacts, and nacural bodies :t88
perception 108( ancries rco, 104 1 114- 7 {Ja$sim, 3 l9f1 JJO
ti ffirmation, n.s mode of assemon, as mode of willing J.0-4
'I'll ENO thought/thinkmg 198, 196, 307 assumptio ns/ suppositfons (see also
air, clement 88f, 9S hypodl<ses) 401, 43f, 150
ordinary 88, 1 19 assurincc 35 r, 389
olchemy/khcrmm 115, 300 asronishment 354139i..
algebra 1 7, 191 1 1 9 . 121 asrrologc.rs: i.-0, 11 S
ambition 34 7 astroru.>mus 43 1 151f, 150(
anaclnsric 18{ asrronomical reasoning u .o
anngrams 27 :isuonomy 19
analouy 19, 4z. athrist(s) 309
anal)1si,,1;eomcrric11I 1191 121 atoms 183
in ancitnt gt0mctry 17 impossibility of 2; 1f1 :.39
anaiomy/an:uoin1s:s 107 1 Jl '4 ;Jttcnrivrness, and volition 344, 34S
ancient philosophy/ pholosophrrs i 3, 146f, anracrion 358, J59f
18rf anributts,meaningof arrribuce' 11lf,197
angels, minds of 14i. of a th1ng/subuncc 196
anger 109, 181, )J7, JS, 351, },7, J7S1 opposirion betwttn 198
399(, 400(, 40), 4'1 principal 110!
animalsptnts 100, 103ff, J}81, 1,7, 18of, Aa..sonius, Otc1us M3gnus 4
J 16, no, JJ-s p11ssim,JJ6, J3~48 automatons 99, 108, 139, 1.0s, )2.9
passint, ; 49, JSJ, J61, J'4-7 passim, a,ersion, as a pass.on ;58, JS9, 36o, 3641,
369, )70, J7J, }81 , 181-9op<usim 36j,J71, .)76,)97,)99
amnuls, nd free: will j as mode of willing w~
nd reason "1> t 40, H8,J76I axioms ~also common notions) i.09
jncapable of bnguagit 140
nhumanbcing.~ 1 1 1. 1;9-... 1, 1So Bailin, Adrien 1, 41'\ 7, 11611
v1\1wct1on of 3 17 bc3.sts see animals

405
flrdex btde.~

beautiful (vs ugly) JS 8 hard vs fluid 85n,i4sl dt-ar and distinct txrcc1>rion. and a,oidancc c-ru11on/ prcscnauon su God, as
benefit nd harm ste good ond evil heavy vs l1i;h1 1681 ofcnor r4,J7.44. 104, z.07 crraror/ prescrYcr
BibJe, the sec HolyScrlprnre how bound toge1her z.46 ih criterion of trut h 117 1 1 JO, r 8 4, 203 1 cub< 68, 7;
bile 39 s, )99, 400 impcrcc1>tiblc ~7(, 9;, >R6' zo7 Cymc(s) r15, 40 1
81arn, P. andJ. 7 indefinittly divt:-,iblc: 119, 2.01, z.39 mc~rni ngof 'clear' pcr<:cprion 207f cypher 15(
blind curiosity }ls f luminous 1 ss mc-aningof 'distinct' pcrctption 1071
blind nun':s )tide:, :ind tronsm1ssiu1l ol made from thC" nRli: mnm:r 85, z.56 of common nouons 109 du~. rcquind forddinmg/SOlt"1ng
hght 1 Sl' 166, 169( mix cd/wmpositc 89(, 1;; ofsrnsaiions/ thoughu 117 problem HI
blind, man bo<n, ..d idea o( colour s6 narur~/~ccof uol, 2.i..f cle:ir nd distinct proposruons .I 7 de Rl\es,jacques 19411, 30811
blood,anda.mmalspims Joo,311, ~14 perc<hable b)' rh< 1<nses 4, 871 Cltrselior, Claude 7, 79, Jr J. JlS, 326 de Roy. Henri see Rcgiu>, Henrirus
34 1 pcrtcption of 101f rogi10 argument (cc:rtainry o( my own Jc~uh. c:luse o( 3 29
a11d einot ionii/pa1isions :!.So(. j41, H s, power/ lorcrol 14 1( cxlsrenre) 46 1 1171 183(, 195 , 1? 6, dcduc1lon, and enumera uon (or
35 J, JGi.-76 passim, J9L 1 3941, 400 r:m:laction/condcnsation o f 115f 1?l induction} 3 7
403 subsca.n..:e/rorporc:11l11y ol l. 19, l.2.S cognitive powcr(s) {vs mo11vc pO\.r cr) 41, as a means of acquiring kno\i.tledgc r 4(1
drculatmn of 116(,; 16, 323f, J .~o cerresuial r$7n. i.69 so 16, z.5, ;;, 48. sof, 56
cxp~nsion/rardaaionof 1351. t Hf, bo~dness HJ. ;s .)88,J9i,;99 <0ld, sen1ation o( 1oi. 137 369 vs exptrienec l 2.
jlj-19, \41.. }7l. braJn, the 1~8 f>JSJ1m, 139- J1 ' .no. 00111\ion, lx-t\\'ttn bod~ 9), 9 4(, 'J7, 2,.21. \'S uuuition 14 f, 16
flow o( I JS-,, p6-19, 3}0 jjl lH d<finirion$ 49, 196
ndnessof 1z.,, }68( _.ttf, 3S3. 3.S4. 36 1r
and passton.s } oolou<(s). idea/ 1<Mahon ol 561, 167, 209, Otmocnrus 28;(, 398
blushing J68, \69 and soul/mind 1o6, r64, 171, 1.79(, :. 18i.J04 dc:ni:il, !IS n1odc- o ( thought/ 1hinking ?.98
bod)'1 1he (human), nets upon the soul ~i8 2.83, J IJ n:uureof 4of, 153, 15titJ1J d(nfo.l/negation, :'.lS modt uf willing 204,
a nd passions J4Sl.-76 passim composition of ro7f perception o ( 4ot, 106, 1s1. 156, 168f, 107
:ind seusorions 184 l~urma n, Frnus 178 1 16 , 21 8 ( drri<ion 35 1, }68, 39). 395 198
bene~t/util ity and harm ro 376( comets, composed from tharJ element 2. 58 Jcriv~'ion, of ca.u~c~from tff1.-ct< 54
compucd wirh machine 9~108. t }6. '-'Ommon notions 45 1 197. 109, z.47, 295, olthi ng> from words SJ
1)9.}IJf, 319f,})5 categones, Arislot~lmn 11 n J04( DHcartcs, critics or , ,..6(, 281, 29'* 3070,
comp.1rW"1rh~h1p t-tl C:itholic Church, condemns Gal1leo 79 1nnau:ness o( }0'4( 10'-t1
conromtd "uh nund 22~ Descartes' submission to authoncy common senSit 1 so, JS S dt.11h o( 32 s
disrinctfromthcmind/ soul 117. 141, of 14 if, i91 'common'sense,rhc ,. 1, 1 o~f. 108, 139, dream of (Novcrnbtr. 16 1 9) 3I
184, 195. 196(, 113, i95 1 }00, }OJ (, a\1.sal cxpl:an:wons :.s s 16 4. 173, 30J,) 16 cducauon of 1 r . 1 1 :z.- 1 6
3 14 cause(s) 34 comp:.rison s7f pro1tct/ plan of t 18 1 11 9, 114-6,
douh1s obo ut it~cxistcnce 29S JO f ond effect(<) u , 53 1, 72 <.:ompositc enrirics, \'S simpl ccntiries 199
rcsij~,~je i~~~{;~nd s;;_~
1 3
Ouid " solid parrsof }l9-11 efficitm 1oi. composi te n a~urci. 31. -.6f
form::ation nr }21-4 6nal 201, 148 condensation, and circular mmion 238 Jcsuc.~.snp~ssion ljo.;p.,353, )56,
Cuncuon~ or 108.} 14- 16, JZ.9-JS ).4fi 6.rs1: 18 t 3nd r.t refacrion 1 ss 118-6o, 363, 365. J61. 169. ro. 375,
growth o( 1oS, 3101 knowlc<lgcol JSo conditions/crirenl s,.r, s' 116, 378, 379, 380, 1ss. 189, 39 1,
hoallhy (and p;1s.1ons) 3611 proxtmJ11c (pnrniry) vs remote confi<knce JSOl,J88.J89 J9 , 397, 399
knowttdgc of 19& (acc1dtn1al} 105 conJttture(s) 11, 14. <f? u mode o( willing 2.0'4
living V'l dead 31-1(, 3J.9 celestial m:Jttrr, fluidity of 25 2 coujunetion (of simple n:uurts) 45(, 47 ( despair 35of1 389, 391, ~OJ.
movemtntso( iod, 105, 108, 139, 1H, voitical mo1io1lof z.53 f) 157 conrclllpt 350.i83l.;89, 40 1 dovolion 357
3 14-16,J19-3i, ;41f, H4 c.-cnain k nowlcd~t 4 8 Copcrnkus, Nicol:1u!< 2.SO d1:1lectic i6, J7
nourishment ol 107, 138, 3 l y-1 1, JJ 1 certainty 1off1 14, )7f, 43, t1.S, t97, corporeal form s di:il~ticfo.n s , :., }6f. 5 l
p>nsof 9?f. J?.;15.;Jo 289-9 1 corpor~al images. and purt differencia, uni,ersal 111
union wirh tht mind/soul 99, '4 ' 1.09, and rhc senses 1 8?. undcrstandmg/though1 )O? digc~ttOll 108, q8, j l ... )63
i t J, :14, l.79i 199, ;o;, 3.z.8, J l9 crit<riono JJ.1, 107 corporto1l i1nagina11on (srec1lso d1n1nmon(s) 6zf, 65
36i, >6sf. 3nl mor.il s metphy>1c:il/ absolu1c 130, plw11tasia) 41, 47, 58 D1ophantus l 8
unity/ ind1v1>1b1l1ty ol H9 >.89f CO<J>O<.. l mo:mory 43 direct vs indirect method o( ~lurion 1.f,
bod)/"?od1cs,and cxtcnsion 44, 59-61.18~ chaos, prirncv~I 91, 131, ?.57 corporeal narur<(s) 44 70, 72, 75
as subs~nce(ti} uof ch<'erfulnc-ss 351, 361, 371, 393, 401 corporeal tlling/sub~tnncc('I) tofc d1 sccrn m~nr 3), ) sf
anributrs o f 1 vs c:htrnjsts .16 body/ bo dies Disco1trse on the Merhod 186
colli~ion bcrwcen 94f, 9;, 1 ..p.f, 144 Chrisrina 1 Queen 315 c:ounring 6 2. di-,covcr)' o( <l \'\'OnJer f\11 new SCt<'ncc J, 4n
cornp:ired wich sponge .z.i.5 circle, C:an csian 1 JO couragt )41, HJ. HS JS 1, 39 1f,399 Ji:,gu:it J 5 :., 4 02
contiguous l.H-6 clear and distinct nouon~/idt3S, of CraP"lli,G. S di5tance.asmodcof~xtens1on .?.Jl
ex1scenccof 1r 3, :.18,i13 subst.inS 11 1 cn:1tion, of a new world 90-'2. 13 2.-4
1 ti<ual perc:tpu.on or 110-s p11ssi111
f.il~ h)'pothe)IS of their 'e,-o)uuon regarding nut<n01l thmgs 288 ot rhc: world (is1ble un1\cfSC') 1;;. d11tmcrion,conccptua.I .,_.f
J.~f,-~, 167 trutho( IJO, lJ.I 1si>-s mod>I ?131, Ztj
J11dex ftldex

dist1ncti-0n {con1d) ns dtlecu;/privarions 20 3 f eyes, the, expre-ssi<>ns of 367( ;i.; J)rim3 '1' c::wse of motion l.40

real u3. 214, lJ s Woidancco( 19,. , i.04 1 207,118 as purr ime:llige:ru:c s


du.an"mdanon s, 181,?.01,11.1,l.O. foureau)dc>l 218(( faaal txpress.ions. ind passio:u ;68. J"I au1horiryol u1
JOI natucco( :zo3f finm,g 3701, ~o; ~olenct of 100, i.os. ~o18
d1vis1bihry, as mode of extended o( reasoning 117 faith I J, tl.I , JOOf concu rrcncC' of 11 o, J.40
subsiancc(s) io9 of the senses 11.7, i Jo(, r1?.-5.19'4 nuths of r 25 CXISl<:nccof 46, 1 i8. 184, 197-100.
of mntcer/bodit~ su. 1.z.9, z.0 1, lJ 1, souroes of 47, 54, io3-7 pasJ1m falsity SJ, 1 30 121 1 )00, JlO
Jt, 'J9. s6f. s8 cs,encc and txisctnct 198 fafsum 195 n lde:i of 1 i9, r 97-1-00, z.1 l, 2 96, 305 (
dl\ision 63, 7'-. 71f e<ttnct/natur~ immuta.bilicy of ~91 JOI ( f..c/ fatali1y )80( 11mnuu.bili1yof 93. 96, .z.11, .t.40~ 1-41,
dou!x i6, 182 ofGod 198 favour JS1. ;88, 197 l4J
a.smock of willing 204 olo thing 97 fcJr <81, H~. HJ HS )461 347 !! ina>rporealiry of 1oof
~"'Q u ce rni ng mathcmatu.::11 ofthcself <95 J69, 375, JSJ, J88, 392, 403, 40 4 infin11UJc:: of uof
dtmonsu :mons 127, 194, 197, 103 csrccm JJO, )pf, ;83(, 386, 388, 400, Ftrdmnnd 11> Emperor 1 1. t)n mmuencss of idea of )0$
concerning ohits of tbc scnst-c; 1:z.7; 401 figures .inJ ideas/imagination 4 , 4 1, 4i. 1 lmowledge of 197, l 99 1 101
181, 193f, >O) eternal 1ru1hs 97, z.08(, 11.1 64 105(, J04 n;1mrc/ attributesof 199, :.oo
C\'crything; to bt CJ.lied into r 17f. 1:1s, cthcr 47 6gur.; /shrxs, used 10 rcpr<><nl nc-)saryex,isltnof 197f, )06
11.7, 181, t8Jf, 193, 309 cthl<l> 148, Jl4 rcluons/ proportK>ns 64f, 68 nor :adccet\er 130, 184. z.03. !.07, 1u,
int.>thod of 1 17, 12.7 evcrydJy life {vs contc::mplacioo of rhe 6rc,clemcn1 88l,9i 113, tis
d rca 1u of Descarrcs (No,'cmber 1619) 4 rruth) u.3~ 116, r93 firc/ Aame, heot and ligh1 of 83f omn1rotence of 194, .Loo, .?.05, i.31 f.
d reaming 10-1{ i::vil set good and evil first principles 'h 15 . 179-85 passim 148. t56
a.s a rc.1son for doJbt 1i7, 130(. 194 evolution of the world/ visiblt univcr~. and absolute cenaindes, l.90 our likeness 10 384
drums, illusions of 1>7,J)6, JjS folsc h)'J'Othes,. of H.
1 s6-1, 167 of Dcscmes' philosophy 131, 183-5,
188
~fMnsof r 181, 197(, 199, oof,
dur.auon i.001 !.08,u1 1 l.1+ t!<:IStcntt, and COOC'Cl\'Jbtl ity 299( :40, 1o6
as an anriburc 2 1 1 ( o nd e<sence r98 fixed !tars ip, 'S3 pro\oed from CSSl'11a: of ("omologi<.";11'
knowledgc/ pcrocption of 217 :a.s an attribute 111 f composed of first clement l. j8 a ruumcnl) Jz.9, 197f, 1.96,Jo6
mc~ar1 ir1gof 'dura11on 2.12 nccc-$Sary \'$CQ11tingc11t c97f, 306 Oo me/fire, nature of 81(, 133 1>rovcd from exisrence of oneself 199(
notton of 196 fluid bodies, vs hard bodies 85n proved from objc:ctivc 1>erfecdon of idea
crih, clemt111 98n. 99 of c.rnol objects 197 flus~ing ;99 of 118. 198~ 296, Jo<O
rrh, lhc, composed Ir= rhird of onesclf, God, body/bodiesstt5df, form.all}' ,.s tmintnrly 1 j9 purpo,../pfansof 101. 48
clement i.58 God, body/bodie1 forms, of elcmcnrs/ bod1cs 89, 9 1 n'\c-fat10,s
. of :u 1, i.40
mottorl ol i.191 i18 1 2.5 (- 3, 169 cxp.c:rfonce, vs dtd uctton r 2, ~6. ?.'4S 156 of reasoning ) 6 simphc1ry ::ind unity of 1 z.8f, i.ot
sh pcof >;2f e.tplricuce 143n locnme 379f, 394, HIS supposition of deceitful r94 1 206
cffcm, recognired/dcduccd lroin rheir cxplonJtion(s). c:iusal 2.Sj, 288 free will (see also will). and animals und c:r~canding of 10 J
causes 97, 134. 1 so, t.49, 1ss mtthanical 89, i.19, 1861 ?.88f and nvoidam:c ol error 194 will o( 101
d'frontcry 401 ( extmdc-d thing/subst~nce 208, 210, 113 ondsdl-dlttm }8i,J86,J87 works of 48, 198
cl<mcnts SSf conceptually disrinc1 from French,., Larin 1 s1 good :md ev1J, and piisst0ns 350-5 p.us1m.
of 1hc " isib1e \1 11i\'~rse i.58 txtmsion ~ r s r friendship J5 7 JS8f, 361(, p6-<J pauim, 388, 39>f,
Elizabeth, Prin ce'~ 190, 3 13, 315, j17 conccpm::illy distinct from q u~ ntity .z.i.6 40i
Eltevir (publishers) t77 cxistcnccof 213 G::ilik'O Galilei 79, 141111 2500 knowledgeof 347
C'rn1ncmly \'S formally 199 C'Xf<'nsion .U. 53-61pas.s1m, 195, 1.09 gcntrnsiry JSO, 380, J84f, ;86, 387f, ;881, goodM"me (seealsorcason) 9.11t, 1i.3.
tmooons '4, .:.09, i.Sof rtd body/ bodies H 5~1, 184 39J, 4oof 1p, t86
JS obj~rn of pera:ption !.Q9, z.r6 ond plocc 59f ee...... 5 gr.1t11udc JS 1, 397
internal (vs passions) 38 1 :'Ind qu:1nriry 611 91, 1z.5-7 gtomcters 16, 61, 147 gravitas 1340
pnssions defintd h H9 a~ 1node of extended substance(s) i.15f gcomcrric,11demon'>! ra11uns: cz.0 1 119 gra\'ity 183 , z.34>z.8 7
tmulation 3S 1, 391 os ""'ure/esscnceof body/bodies 91, geometry uf, t7f, 401 51, 58, 61( niuurcof .z.68(
tnumeration {or induction). and uof, 215, u.4, i.97 objccl of 121 147 gf0311S J7 ~

deduction J7 as pnncipa] attribute of corporeal Geometry 187


aod intuition 16, JS subJ1anct(s) 1101, 197 Gilb.rt, William S>n habit, tffect of 3H,J41
ond knowlcdg< 1sff.J7 conci::ptuaUy distmcc: from exrcnded glory,andcnvy 394 Haldane, F.. S. and Ross, G. R. T. \ii. 1x1
<Ill')' J5 1 ,J85,JR6,J94f,;98 substance 11 sf God, nctivit:yof 101 ' 77
Fpkunis 1H1 indefinite 23z. and 'nt:w world' 90-J 1 96-8 1 13:&. Hall, T. S. l oon
("tjt1.11ity 58, 61 indefi1lircly large 1.02 as a ,;ubstance 110 happiness 379, 381, 394
' ' mcqu.tlil}' (m 1ht uni,trse) ~t7 m0<b of >08(, uof, 116, 19 ascrcator/preser-1rn 92'. 96--8, 133(, hard bodu::s, vs fluid bodies 85n
n10.mon.. ;6 of.,.,.<~!) and ul body/bodies u 1, u9( 194, l.00, 2.l.f, l... O, J.4:.f., 2.f81, .tS6, hardnn~, sc::nution of 109, .u.4~ 181
oror(\) m~mg fro111 fJlw of the world LJ.L >67 Haney, W1lltam, on circul~uionof thr
"'~P P (h lllCll l\ .L_~M eye, i;1r1u.111re of 1(16( a'i dtidenc c 1u<re of himself 310 blood 1}6f, 316-18, .lJOf
.po Index Index

hate/hm ed 18of, HO, 353, JS6, }JS, 1m3ges 81, 106, ' ''4t 165-75 passim, )40, vs enumeration 15, 37. J8 of"ne,-.'world 91-7, l J1
)59, )63, )04 , J66, 369, J70, }1 J, 3411 irrc,S()luti<>n 351, 386, J90f, JSIJ, .}97 stcond law (of Descarm' physrc::s) 96,
37 HS 376, J 77f, 379.J8 .!. 181, o f real vs i1mtginary things 303 14 tf
) 87, 393, 394 J9S . ;9;, J9?, 400 imagin3tion ro6, }16 1 38 _
1 j:1U11d1ce. man wich 47, r 3of. 17 J third law (of DtS<o r<es' physics) 94,
he lth, bodily, and passions 36 1f as mode/facultyof knowledge )O,Jl, jealously )SOI, ; 85, J86, )89f 141H
hearing.sense of 81, 1291 i.8?.f 39, 41f, 47, S1-61 joy :z.o9, 180, JJ7.J49J5'.JS35Jo ligh1, action of 1 9, 1 $St 16 r
Man, the. and<:monons{passions i.So(, and maner 90. 91 H9, J6tf, 363,J64f, J66, 368--ll1 coni.isn in motion/ action 8'4, 1 5J-6
34of, H 34S.JSJ.J6-?6J>aWm, and }Xlssions .. OJ f1"Jsim, J87, 389, )j), )96, 398, 401, s
1n.st-.lntuieous uansims~on of )-4, 1 J
400 and perprion of du.c:.ncc 170 401 n;aturcof 133, 1 p.f, t58f
bcatingof(pulsc) 108, 137,JH, Jll, and \olition J44 inteHtctuaJ i.81, j6t,J8Jf pc:rccpuoo of 4, 108
363 as mO<le of thought/1hinking/ptrccptton jodgement, and ~rror S~ 10'4-7 passim quantity of 163
formi1tion of JZ.t-<11 i19, 195, 31'4 ns-1 nnd rhe wi ll 104 . ) 47 " >of ssf
heaLin 108 , r JS-8f>assjm~316, 3 1 8, corp0re:.il 4 1, 47, 58 1 105f1 108 1 139 concerning thing.i; pcrcchable b)' t he re0ei:tion of IS 6-8
331, HS 365f,J71, 400 objeers of r 1 1. 110 senses 118, 110 refraction of 29, 156-6"
movtment/struc:rurtof 134-9, ~16-18 1 ,.s i111elltet/ understanding 4, .ip.l, J 19 nature of 204 1 i96, J07 scns~uion/idea of 8 1(, 1 54, 167, 109,
330( imagining$ 136,)) 8 justice, natural lo"'e of J9~ 1 17, i.84{, 337
M:u, <.'Onsisrs in mo11on 8 J f impuccpriblc bod1ts. cxinmceof 87(, 95, ligh1 of reason (su also naruul hghc) 14,
in tht he3rr 108, 135-8passim,)16, 1861 knowing subj<et J1, J9 16
3 r8, 3J 1, JJS,Jo5f, 371, 400 knowledge obout 188( kn owltdg~, and action J"7 limn 44
of the body J 19 impressions (in rhc br.1in} 40, 106, 353, 11nd companson S7 lint 6 1(. 68, 7), 76
percep tion o f to8 J6 t f and enumeration (or induc.tion) 15ff listlusne~ J 70.J 91
.sensation of 84, 103, 109, 18!, ll7 impuderlCC 40 1 ( and imagjn:1tion 30. "41( loc11.t1on, determination of i. s)
he:Hcns, rhe, composed from second il'npulse, as s<>urcc of COll\pos1re ideas 47 and imellecr/ undcrsmnding 30 loct1s cxternus/inlemus 217 11
tJ~mem i.s 8 lncarn.1tion, 1hc 10 r 1 JOO a.nd passions 347. 3531 JSh 35 5, 377, lode11t0ne (see also magnc:t) ss
Ou1dityof 191n indefinite {vs infinite) l.O r ( 379 logic 119, 186
he:wtn6S (S.t'e al"' gT.1,ity), scnsatton indifference suw11l a nd reason _.., 30(, 1J1 logi<al de6nition.s, avoidnce of 19sf
of 18' indignation JS>. 368,J71f, J97-9. 400, and SCO!<)ry/s.nseP"~llon 19( Lorcrro s
Herachrus 398 401 br.inchesof so lo'< S :i.o,,>8of, JSO. JS>. JSJ,)j6-8,
history 1 3, 1 1 )( induction (in sr:1nd;ard sense) .z.7n bcultyof 20J JS9. J6o, J6J. 364, i6sf, 369, J7o,
Holy Ghosr J 10 inducrion (orenumc:ration) 15ff, 37 method of acquiring 16, 48. 1 J.of, i 8 l ff J 73-83 passim, J87, 39S, 396, J97.
Holy Scriprurr 19s, 3oof, 301, ) 10 "inecti:i' see morion{s) aml rest, persistence modes of 335 4 00, 40 1
hope nol,35i, )S9,J89, 391, ~9>.40 1 of objeets o f :ro, r z.f. Ji., 39, 1 20 concupiscent ''S bc11cvolcnt JJ6
human lx:ing,,, and IJngua.ge t 4 0- 1 mfinirc, vs indefinite :z.oLf of effects though/by n um 97, 1 H Lully, Rayll1011d 1 19
as composite :ntities 1.99 infinite being J 99 150, l.OJ. Lycurgus t 17n
humanbtings.vs;1nim:;1ls 139-4 1 180 informare 17911 of good and evil l47, l7Y
humility 310, 38s, 387, 389, 401
humility (vict) su abjcctllCS$
ingram:udr J,97
1nnare tdeas nouons l.1-.f, l.9S, ;oJf, J04,
of ooturc 5. 9, -141 '} 1
of the S<lf, God, body bodrcs su sclf,
maclune1 1du of 198{
rm urI objca comporcd ..,u, 1881
humours, bodily 3, ,_., 309 God, body/ bOOoes th bod)'<Ompared wirh 91-108, 136,
hunger 180, 181, Jl7 intellect, rhe (see also undcrtranding)~ and of things n, J9f, so tJ9, Jll p9f, JJS
Huygens, Concitantijn 1 101 177 judgement 104 principles of t 86( vbible universe compared with l.79
hypo1enuse 67!, 69 and the sensc:s .u.4 lettnti(I (\s cORnitio) rof, 13, 15, 161 15, m:ic:hines, ancienc 18
h)po1hcses (sl'etJlso a~umptions ) 250(. andchcwill ro, 11"1, 115.191,204f 18,)1, ,,, 49, 69 1nadmcn 172.
155 as fa cu hy of knowledge 30, 31.J 9, 41f i.cope of 3rl, 181 in:i.gic/magicians I 12
false 156, 117f as faculty/mode of magnammit}' ;501 38 8
thoughc/ chinking >04, 196, 307 U.byrinch, the 1.0 magncr,natureof 4j, si. S7
'l' snsdf finite\'$ infinitt J.o_..f language, and antm31s 140-1 m1g111tud<(s) S>. s8, 6.4, 67f, 70-6 passim
idtas, (mistakenly) 1akcn ro res<mble knowledge of 30 and ruson 140 1ncommeosurablc 66
objt> 8 tf, 165f, 197. 1t6f pure 43 ond thought/llimkrng ~of. J48 1'.fahoney, M. S. Bsn
:idvenri riou< (made up) 30Jf vs cheimagin:u1on 4,4;, 129 us c-:Hase of error 110 m>r<rial thing:; (see also body/bodies) 108
n$ mOdCS Of !hought/ thinking 197, I y8f intentional forms 1 54, :z.96 1 30; l ughtcr 37t-3, 393, '98 ccnai1uy abour 190
corporeal ~ rf, 4 J bttucri 1 ; n laws of mechanics 139, z.86 elem and distinct nouons regarding i.88
inn~i-c u4 1 195. JO)f, ;09 intuition, as a 1nc:1ns of acquiring laws of nature, as sec<>ndat)' causes of existence of .u 3
n01 1iimil:ir co corporeal motions 81, knowledge 14f, 16, 10, 16. 18f, 111. motion(s) :z.~o formsor 185
15i. 165f, 167. z. 16, ~04 48 c-11blished by Cod 9 1, 1 p m:uhemancal proofs J8f. 1447. J.90
\CR~On' K1i, 1t., 10-;ff.119. I SJf clear :rnd Jininu \ 4( fi...r lw (of Oesc rtes' physics) 9 J, ~of m;uhern.1ncs 1 1 1 71, J.). 114, 1 i.of, 186
Ulll\tNJI 111f ''sdcducnon 1.. f.16, J- 11&esmcJI with laws of mcdu nics r 39 asmathesis 17ff
Index Index

m:nhtmarics (rontd) asorganicinnsaChOns z.95,301 p<rsis<cnct of r~w') 24or, 14) f nooons, seecommon notions, simple
arramry of 190 a$ the mtcrnI prmapl< or thought 198 powtr/ ftxcc producing notions
mathesis (1miuerS(J/is) 19( as the subject of rhoughr/rhinking 19s, morion/ rest il6, t43f number 61f, 68, i.11
marrer Bs, 87, 89f 108 proper 1361, 50 and thing numbered 91, i.1 1,116
allbodicsmadcfrom tllcsame Ss,l.S6 disrfocr from the body 117, 12Sf1 196f1 qu:mticy of 94-6 passim, 140, 141(, "'mode or thought/thinking .,
:1nJ bodies '47 1.13, r9J. )00,)0lf 144, s6 t nutrition 107(, c.J8, J 19-u
and motion 9 1,J.}l doubts '1bout h~ existence 295, ;0 1 rectilinerir 96f, 136f, z..pf, z.43
and quality 92 1 147 knowl<dge of r96r stri\ing :afrcr 159/ O l1iection.s and Replies 187. i 1 5
cclesriaJ ! )l.-, 1.SJ., 1s;. 169 nature of 19,.- 305 -passim rranslcr o ( 94f, z.42f objccthc pcrfecrion 198f, .J06
divisibility of 91, ;\)J, 131, 139, 15 8 powers of 17, )O, .i.001 :i-.p., i.48 vs action (1cnJc:ncy ro move) ts 5 obscuriry/confusion (\'5
cx1srcnceof u.3 muon w11h the body z.09, 113, 11 Sf, vsdtrcrntin:at1ontomovc 15 7( dariiy/ disrincmc:ss) t >, 10)
idea of 2}.l. Z.1-0, 11.&, z.81 moovc power (vs cognir1\'e powtr{s)) 42.~ obscrvat1ons1 mlSIC3d1ng J 17
1ndclinirely/ in6nitcly dmoible .,,, mrack(s) 97 H ,,_,ssarylorknowlcdgc r41f, 148, 188,
i56f, i87 mockery )9} mounrain (and valley) 197 189f, 156, Ju
kinds of (dem<nt>l s8 modc(s), mtanmgof'mocfc .u 1, z.97 movements, boddy -4 z., to1(, 105, ro8, OISClmp, P. j. t 64n
mobiluyor 2 32 nature of 301 ' 39, 1)4, J14-16 passim, 341, J~ z.f, ontologial 3rgument r ::.9, 197f, )o6
nan1rc/essenc~ of i14, i.31 ofexlens1on 108f, uof, .u6, 2.97 344 optics 19, tS
o(.'new' world 90-), 1 JZ ofknowledi;e/k.,owing JC>, J35 habirna l 34~f Optics 87
prime 91,9:z. of chough t/thinking 104 , 110(, 116, nonvohrntary JHf Opusc"la PostlJUma
qu antfry of 23 r 97f volunrory J 15, )441 or~uor}' 113 1 114
~ub de 154, 163,} 12.f vs substnce(s) 11 JI, 298-JC>O muhiplica1iou 71. 7h 76 order 108, 211
terrestrial :t32, 269( modesty "401 mulliwdim:s 64n and mnsure 19
\arie:ry in (diversiry o( formi. of) 91 , 232, moral cenainty ('S mu~lts, tnO\'Cmcnts:of 330, JJ!., 3'f 1, )4-4 ofenumer:uion 17f,64f
258 mmphyS1cal/ absolute) r ;o, 189! muste 19 of knowkdgc 44
Max1m1l1an, Duke of Ba\aria 1 16n moralcode r86 of method 2 0{, 28, 3 s1 64
measJ.rt 19, 62,. 6.J DtSC3rtcs 111-s narie 1ntdligen .if!. \"S confusion (in rhcunn'Cf'U) 257
mechanics: 19, 10, 186,} q morals/mor~hry 186, J79 muuul :1p~ucs 1081 109, u6, 28of, JJ),
asa division of physic 288f morion(s), An)tutd1an definition of 337, HS pain 167
laws of LJ9, :z.86 'motion' 49, 93f noturol ltght (stt also light of reason) 1o, nd harm to the body u8,ih
mcJ1c:foe l 4 3, 151, 186, 189. J 14, J 19 and rest 134, 144 J6, 'c6, 1z.4, 196, 199, 100, zoz.r, and sadness/ hatred/desire 361f, 376
Meditations on Firn l'hllosophy 203 1 .u5 and St'n'iatiOllS 1 S.Jf, t66, 284( 107, 11.r. 2481 300 ju.dgemems concerning 2. c6(
memory ro6f, roH, 139, 197n, 1071 316 1 and sh 1>es 147 nalucal p)lC1loir1cna, cxpl1t3blc: by kriowledge/ perception or 208, 118
402 as mode of extended subs.tance(s) z.09, Descarrc:11' pri1lc11)1cs 144, J.47, 279, sensation/idea of 82, 84, ro2f, .i.09,
and dc<lu<:rion 15, 15, 37, }8, 43 111 18 sf, 1gof 281, iS ;f
and error 2..01 as mode of extension 116 narurol powrr(s) 19. H pallor 368, J7S, ;99
and knowledge }1-1 39, .p, &7 as mode of ma1ter uo narunl rtuon 300 l'apj>\IS 18
and preconcetvM opinions L 19 cau><(s) of 240 n:nurc 9z, 108, z.3i.f, ;98 passions 4. 1o6, 108, z.09", z.8of
and -olition ;of centrifugal '" 4tf, 2s8f k owlcdg<of H, t51 and actions J28
u mod of rhoogh/ th1nk1ng 116 circub r 86f, ~. 13~9. 14tf, 2s6, 258 purpoS<S o( 101 and bodily sratcs/ movcm.nrs )62-76
and imaginarion ,.1.
of) COmJ><XUC 1t6f narutt(s), common _. s and virru<s/ ias 386, ;87r, }91f, Jll8,
corporeal 43 consrancy ('consccvauon') of 93, 961 composite J 1, -t6f 401
Mttscnne, Marin 79, 109f, 6 rn, 177 2.~ 0, 141, 14), i.56( corporeal/extended 44, 2 2."1 as con fused thoughts/ perceptions 181,
metaphysics l 86f <ounrlm go on perpetually 84f possiblt' vs nctu3l z.89 3)9
Meteorology r 87 direcrion <>f 83, 96, J 57f, i4z.f, z.44. 146 simple (vscomposirc) 21-3, 31, 44f. 48f ns objects of perception 109, ) 38
Ultd1od, Dese:artcs' s1, 58(,0,, , 'r 1, '2.0- hear :i.nd light C..'Ons\Sts in 84 spiritu:ll/ intd lec1u al {\'S corporc:il) J2. O!t powers ol the sou I J s1
2, 11) incqualitiC"s/v:ariations in 86, .i.66 true ;ind immutable 198 benefir/ util;ry and harm of 319, JS4,
as following an ordtr 2.0, j S( knowlcdge/perccpuon or u 7 nect~s:iry conncction/conjuncrion 4 sf, 48 376f, JS" 401, 40Jf
four rules of Deseanes' 'LO JoraJ j.4, 49, 94, 19s, 116, u7, 2.)j, neassary C)(is1encc (vs conringc:nt) 197(, causes of J39.J~ 1,)4), )4S, 346f
main secrtr of 1.1, 65 184! J06 conrrolover )45,347f
o( 111\ntig.uing the lruth I S- t 7 natu.rcof ('stnct mt"aningof morion') ;t.f, nt'ntS 100-6pass11n, 165(, 167, i.80-4 dt5nit10n of 'passions ol tht soul' n8f
\hll<'f, V. R. and R. P. 144n 133(, 1-S1- pas.smr, z.87, J 16, J;of, 33;, 335, tffeaof 343
mmd. the (su ,,fso soul). Jnd btam 18o of proicniks 14 t J;6f, ))8, H t-4 passim, 36>, )64f cnumcration/ ordtrof H9 }SO, }Sf,
J\ .1. 1!1oc.lt of the body .i94, z.96-300 ofsms ss. 2sf new men 79., l.}4 401
p.usm1, 1or( of rh~ pl:mccs z..s~4 'new' wotld 90-8, ';z.-4 external signs of )67-76
11\ .\ "iUll'll.lllCe LIO, 1.9.ff 1 196- \00 ordinary me:1n1ng of ' motion' 1 u. 15i.I noth1ng{ncss) rJo, c96, 199, 109, 1.TO, f,1ul1> in 3761
,,,,,sun per1>et11nl lS 2}0f function of 349, 376.J77
Index Index

passions (co111t/) SfU.SJflOll(OOf 10), 1.09~ 181 rnrebcr1on, ,1nd circub.r motion ?.JS self, rhc, and the soul/ mindflhought 117,
g~neral vsstrlct scnst of 'p:iss1on' 336, pluraliry o( worlds.1mpossibilicy of 232 ~xpl:inarion o f 115f, 231 184
3371 poetr)' 14 ratio l.J as :a d1shn.cr substanct l. I)
in dreams ;38 p<>etS, and philoophers real qual iue~ 94 . r87n crc'.lt1on/prestr,:t;uon o( 100
pmniric/simple 3 B 38 J position, as mode: of e.xrcndcd rcMon, and .umnals 140, 3-48. 376f essenc~/nacu rc of 1z.7, i 9s
p rincipal vs specific )l tf,J8J subsrancc(s) 109 .i nd Ocscnrtcs' incthoJ 12 o rigin of existence of 199(
remedy against 381 1, 188, 40; or
as mode extension 11 6 and foith ;oo sd f-eso<:<m/conrernpt J81f. 38s r, ;87f,
p<r<Cption(s), as mode/kind of how dererminc:cl i18 and knowledge:/ truth 4 1 3of, 36. r 17 1 400, 401
thought/thinking 104. 108, 196, 307, perceprion/knowlcdge of 1691,>1 7 J 19, J)J ~dft\'ident intuition/knowledge. 14(, 48
JJ! praise and bl:arne, and voluntarr and pas~1ons l5 5, JSS sclf~e\idcnt m:ute.rs 195(
as pan1ons of the: soul }1 s lct1on :.os. )8'4, '40 1 as good Sf'nSC' J 11, 1 1z. ...lf-knowlcdg J 87
causes of 33 i-8 preconceived opm1ons 117, 110, 1 ?.i., 185, vuht scnus l.U.,, 145 ..,11~0.. 387, 395, 399, 401
intell<cmal 204 193, r98, 108, 10,, z.17, 2.18-15 rttt:>,gl< 741 sdf-mocmmi, po""<rol 8s
obs<sof 208,;;6f pa"m:, 1)0. 1.J Jf. L41 ~ 248 rdl<cto<>n oll1ghr f s<>-S M'lfptty }99
regarded s acrions of tht <oul i 16 preoccf1n:H1on. divine, .and frctdom of r~ ttfr<1ion of hgh1 i9, i5H4 S<!lfsatisfaction 3Sr f, J96
stnsory/sensc- s~e Stn.sory will 106 quanrityuf (angle: or rdr3ction) 161--1 )tmina I m:uerial 3 2.I (
awareness/sense-perception pn dc 350, 351, 401,'40;. Rcgiu", Menm:u11 18~.m, 2.93, 307n sensations, ;md pa~s1ons J \9
visual c54, 164, 167-75 prind plcs, inn :irdy known t88 regrer 352.;99, 40 2 .ind rhought/ 1hinking ir9, 180, 284
pcrfection(s}, iden of r 18 Pl'ind plts of Pllilosophy, divisions of 187 rd:tric>ns 1 1 (, 64 1 68 causes of :z.13, 1 80-5 pnumr, 330, 333,
objective 198f privation(s), and tH:~~nion(s) 4S rdatiY(" rhfr1g.s (vsabsolutl! things) 1 1 f. J8 }J7
of God u.8, 197-100 probablt cognition/opinion (\s remorse lS 3,11 internal vs externa l 1801 HJ. H7
olman 1 0.s knowledge) 10 reptnlnct Jj ff, J92, ;961 knowledge/prrcepnon of 109, 1 16 1 2.1.J
of the body 376 problems, perfmly vs imperfectly r<pul<ion i 18, 359f lriCt)' in 1.80
\
1

P"ttptcacity nf unden1ood So--6 rcsp<ct J88 stnseorgans 88, ror. T08, 165. }0'4. }16',
pl>1JJrlaJ1a/phantasy (sualso <OfJ>O<tI ''$ simplt proposmo'" .so rt.spir11ion 138 332{, ;;7, HO, IS l
1maginaric.>n) 41 n, '4 J. projtailes, moc:1on ol 1441 rcn,andmo11on 94 1 1 J l. .1.3)f, i.p,l.-4-I Stnst"l, 1ht s.
40. '4 .h .f7 'J9
phan1ocn limb 283 property l.tJ modc/ qualityof bodics/ mari<r 94, a~d !"ssiOns J49,J6 J
phi Josophers, and poer:< 4 proponion(s) nf, 61, 64, 65, 68, 1101 2J>, ~6 and though1/thtnking J04
phllosophy,andscicncc(s) sn, ,,,,. f,
1uf proportionals (me:i.n :1nd continued) z.3(, persistence o( ('inertia') ?_qo f, !43( and understanding/intellect r81
ond rheology 300 J8, 68, 7lo 7S revelatio n, divine 15. r8r , z.oc. :11 1 1 1,.0~ cx.tcrn3l 4 d , 101-3 1 1 0~(. 164- 6,
~ts the search for 6rst cau~es or proposirion(s), clear and distmct ;7 JO l 181-3 , 284, J J7, 339. J40
principles c79- 8 1 ntces.sary and conti ngcn1 46 rhero ric, :rnd philO$Ophy 3 7 intcrnal vs exremal 180, 133. 358
benefits of 180(, 186, 191 simpJt 10, u . 37, J9~ 50, 68 riddles SJ, SS objecrsof 11 1, i.!o, 179.137, 14 5, 14 9
compared with a tree 186 Provide-net, divine ;8of, 399 ridicule J 9J rdiabihty/trus1wor,hincss ol 1 17, 182.
practical vs speculative 1-41 prudena:/imprud<ncc )7~ roor (square, cube, ere.) 68, 7) wi1hdrawal of the mind from 119, 1So
rules forcorrect phtlosoph1nng u 1 Ptolemaic model of M>lar sy:5tem z.son Rose Croix (Roskruci::ms) sensory awuenc:ss/ senscpcretption 8 tf,
physics 40. 186, 249 Ptolemy so ruin 71 81. of, 1osl, 164-6, r97, 17,..8J,
prmciplcsof!Hsc'3rrn 1.p., 1'4 j(, 149, purposes., ol C'.od or narurc 10J. of1mpact J.,.4 )37, HO, Hl f
247, J08 Jod bnc61/ harm 12~
Pteot, Claude r77. ;16 qualor1.ofbodi<s 891, t66 ndrh<btain/ n<'<> 280, 18if
pine.al gfand ioo, 1otif, 3-40-3 paJsh11, ) 49 ptrceivedbysogh1 r67 sadnc>S 209,18t,;J8,J49,35t,J52.1s9, as mode/facult)' of knowlcdg< ;o. J.,
puy 351, 3n, ;Sr, 39sf. 397 ;98, 403 perceived b> the senses z.8 s 36 if, 363, ;6s, 367, 368-79 P'"'"' 391, 41
ploce 49, 53, 234 38 r, J87, 39 394 J9), 396, J98, as mode of pc:n;tption 104
real 94, Ss
a.ud exrension 5 9f 4 0 1, 40.t. ~ts thought/rhinking 19s
tactile O), 1.09, 18i
a nd $pace iz.9
qualiry, meaning of quality' 11 t sceptical philosophy r81 objectsof 47, 1 16f, 1Ho
external 49, z.18f quantit)', and body/matter/extension 61(, s.cepti~ 11.5, 117, 309 of external objects 4,40-l., Stf,87.
mtcmal 49 1 117 91, Z. I j, 115-?, 2.J 11 147
sdtolasric philosophr/pholosophtn i6,94, 101(, I Oj-?', t64-6 1 116ff', 184(, 1901
mrrins1c S3 concrprually disrinct from exttnded 9$, 119, t41, l-46f, 181(, 187, 188f, }04,JJ7, 339,;~o. 34rl
plJntts, romposd from third clement J.S8 subsranct u.6 21sn.309 U-nJHSOOmmwnis 41tn
dcvurions in tht monon o( z.66 SCM"n, hk~ :a .,-01nan 1 scroes (of thingo) 1 r f
in glm<fry YS physoa 40
morron(>) of 2so--, 2nl inde6:nuety d1vuiblc 157, 102 scienas 3,~11., J'4, u.o ,.,,. (s m:igniruoo) 64~
PIJto 18n, 181 and philo>0phy rr 5, u r f ~x, d1 ff'critnS of, ~nd
o f motion 94-~ passim, 24 0? 14-i.(, 1'44,
r lt.m1rt1 as intellcttual JO}' 38 1 fol(C I 15 desire/ attraction 36o
1561
r lc."urt, bodily (Set' afsr> tlfill,1t10n), ~111d reform of 1 r 7 ;home JS 4od
benefit to the bu<ly 1 18, 181 scientia i on shopc{s},and extension 4 4 1 46~ 61, 64
1111l~c111cn1., conCC"rnint-t 1 16r rainbow 168
"""' 3JO,J 88f and mocions '147 1 .t.86,188
Index Index

shap<(s) (comcl) scnsuwe )4 sf, .JS .z. ray.of 3 passageof S


and S<nSOry/ S<nst-pcrccption 4of, H sens:t11\cand/ orvcgttari,e 108, I3-t surfatt(s) 6t, 6) timdtt) 351, 384, ;9.z.., 395
as mode of urmdcd subscan(s) ''S <rrcng1h/ wekn<ssof H71 and ex:trnal pla~ 219 titillrion (sua/$() pl<asu,., bodily) tOJ,
109,i.1of
knowlcdgc/ ptrcqmon of 21 7(
''1sual p<r~"tpnon of 172
umonw1ththcbodr 99,141.1.79,:.95,
199, 10!. 118, 339f. 361. J6sf, 37lf
.oond(s), noturc of S<. 81
r surprue JlJf, 370, }7if, 187, J91. " "
400
sw~r 373
j6tf, J76
totmn diaplumum i.90
touch. qualitits pttccivcd by 10). i.09.181
>igliJ J7S pen.-cpuon of 106, 108. t 67 syllogJ.sm J6f,i 1 s.ensations/ idc;isof 8z., 103, 1.09, 1h.
s1gtu.srnscof 81., 11.9, 167- 75, 2S3,J4d 'itn\.u1ons/ idcJ.SOf 82. 167, 1.09., 28,.f, prOOabk 1 1 ).(.11.Seof Si., 281(
sunple entitit.-s, vscomposuccnnrifi 199 304, )J7 symbols 66f, 69 tranquillity (of ch< soul) Jh, 393, 396
:umplc: notions r 96, z.08 <paa:(s), and body/ matt 86f, 9>, 1 l9, transfer, of bodies :&.3;ff, 151
s1111plc propositions z.o, zi.1 ;7, ;9, so, 68 11 .l ta(.."tile qualities 103, 109 of motion(s) 94(, 141f
vs problems so nnd extension :t. z.5 Tmolus 55f tr:rnsp:irenrbod>/bodit$ i9, 151-6,
simple things/ n:uurcs r .z., 21-3, 3z., 43f, os imcrn;'ll pl:.cc(s) 117, 129 taste, knowledge/ percep1ion of i 1 S c6 t-4, 166/, 168, 3H
Hf,48f conceptua ll y diu inct from corp<>n:al sense of 2.82. trem bling 369f, J 99, 403
simplc/ca.)y mmers 20,;,;f1 ;6, 195{ subuoncc(s) u8 tosr<(s), sensation/ide of 109, 1} 1 triangle 46
sm, not willed by God z.o.J. di<dnguishc:d lrorn place l2.9 tears }71.373 JSI, 396 idc:ao( 1.12
siz.r, u mode ol cxr..-nded cm pry 86, 1.i. 5, l.l.9f terror 3.p, 351, 391 triangular numbers 64n
substan(S) >o8f imag.in:H')' 90 <heologians JOO Trinity, thc(Holy) 201
knowlcdge/ ptrpcion o( 217 inddini1<ly <Xltndcd 1<9, > p rheology u4 truth, the. me1hodof inve:sriga1ing 16ff
vuual pcraption of 17i no real d1ffcrcnct from rorporeal ond philosophy }oof truth{s), eternal 97, i.oSf, 111
slp, and drc.iming JOf suhsntK"e{s) 117( things. as objTs of perpnon 108 indubitable 1of
and thought/ hinking 195 Sputa 1 1 7 dttl,f from words S 3 s<lf~idcm 4;. 48f, so
and ""'king 104, 108, 194,>83 spears .:.11( think.ingthing/subsr21nc~ 127.108.110(, lluth/ fbicy JO
pcrttptton() during jjS speacs (and genus) 22 213, u.4 Tyd10 Brahe so
smcll(s:, knowllge/ pcrccption of 108, spuits 1s-1n conccpru:ally distinct from
118 Sphinx, nddlcof1 he SJ S thought/chinking 115f ugly (vs beautiful) J!S
srns.uion/idca of 109, 3 3; spirus , bochly 3 19-1 1 rhirsr t.80~ 281, 333 understanding {J:eet1lso mtellen) -12, 54,
se-n11r of 119, 28 t splccn, thc \61. j64. 366, J7 395, 399, thought/ thinkmg, and ammal~ '40 56, z.04
Sndl') Low c6rn 400 and innate ideas/nouon~ }Olf ~md the sensts t~h
Socrates 46, 53, 18l ~qu:iring rhc:drcle JOO a nd kuiguagc 140( as mode of though1/ think111g/
soul, lhC (.see also mi nd), actions ''S p:1:is1on'i nars S5 and sensations :. 19, 180. 18~ pcrc(pti01\ 19 s. 104, 2.16
of lll.J4l imttgincd ns very small 110 asessence/ 11a1ure of rhe obje<:tsof 110
ninbir,uit)of'soul' 2.96 lighc from 119 mind/ soul/self 117, 195, HJ, 196 pure 10 4, 307
and ~incal gland 340, H6 mo11011 or l. s 1f asmodeorsubstance 1 15f vs grasping 199
:ind 1hc br:iin i79(, 18)f, ;;3, .))S Stoic.~ 18 1 asnarure o( a substaoet- 2.98 vs imagination :t.!.O, 303
app:irtnt conflicts within H.>-7 s1ud1C1, gene ml ' 'S p.art1cul:1r 1o as principal attribute of inco rport"~l vs will JS
as mode of the body }OJ s:ubs1;mce(i), Junbute:s/ quaJitics of i 10 1 substance 1 ro, 197 unit 6sf,68,71
ossubjcct of thought/ <hinkiag J 14. J >9, 1,4, 197tf caused by morions m chc bod) 18 ~ unity 6lf
HS c:omposnc 199 conccpruall)' dis!inct from thinking ooh'Crsa!(s), as mocks of
dunna from tht body 16f, i.i.7, 1.41, Cf'ClCcd l. I of subs~ 115( thought/ thinking 111f
195, I 14, JJ9f cxccndcd/corpo~a! 10Sf, 1 1of, .z.1 .> confuscd ,. d1st1net thought> 28 1, 186 vs patticular{s) 12
funcuon>of 314f,J}S,24of.;;;.J46 mtdlcctual/thmking/iocorpor.. t 127, facuhy/ powttof 194, 1,6, JOJ-J oontr.sc, indefinitely extended 1311 1.f8
ho; no prts H 6. J 51 .z..os.11of.11s passim~ 309
hos sens-Ory pm:c:pt1on(s)/awarmcss know&c:dgt ol t 96, u o, .u .o kno..1<dgt of '9 l vacuum/ otd t83, 115, 1}8
164-6, 171, .z.79f. JI .. me3nmgof 'subS1ance' 110 meaningofchought' 19J cxistenceof S5ff
1n1trnal sensations of 381 n:uurt/essenctof 21of onodes/kind>0f 104, uof, "6, 197f, fcarof 87
1r~ne11onon the body Jl.9,)Jl., }4t-s princ1p.1I attnbuteof l.1of J14,J)),J4} impossibility of n 9f, 187
futS$U11 rtal disrincrion b<:rween 11 3 pu re 307 me.1.ning of'\acuum 2.JO
ir~ control over rhe passions 345- 8 rhc mind as 1Lof. 2.94f, .i.96-300 passim thoughts joined with bodily narurc of <18
not du: s,ourcc of bodily vs modc(s) 11 ;f,i,8-JOO actio ns 344(1 3651 Jn vanity j85f, 387, 396, 400
lw.u/nwvt mem 314f,319 s ub.srnntial forms c87n, .z.8.s tickling sensatio n (.sec also ti rill::ttion) 81, vcini; 134-7pa.ssim,J2.o,3 30,363,366
o(.mimnl-.: 14of $J1btil 31611 84, 106, 167 \'Cncration 350, ;88
puw('r, of Ha. sub1lemnner 1H 163, p.1f ti me. :ind passions J 50( \'engc:ance ;99. 400, 404
p1optrclco,. (f.1u1h1c') of ~07 s ub1rJction 7 1. 7 J meaning of rime' 1.1.i. vicf, res.ult.s from ignor3nce 187
tnmn .al 97, 10 1(. 107. 1 J.<t, 141 .z..94 . Citln, 1he, com1'tH.c~d of first dcmem 1.58 nature of 1 00 \'inue(s) 19ol, J87
J;M. '"'~' u 11l11011 o( 1~1f parts.of 100 pursuit of J79,J81,j84,j96
lndcx

rntuc/vi<<, ond passions j86, 387(, 19il, will, rht, ind bodily mo\em~nt :.34. J 141,
J98, ..01 HS l4J-S
>inoous/good will JS, 395, 397 and judgement 104, H7
\11.Slon, sro~ o( 16;--75 and p2n1ons l .f S, 34'9, J6S
Vives, Juan Luis 372 nnd the 1nrt'tlttr/ undcrsc:and1ng 1 !4,
vh1~crion JJ 7 111, 104~
Voci, G1sbcrt 189n, 293 as facul1y of 1hc mind/..,ul 204, 196,
volirion(s), ond opptrires J46 3 14, 135.J4J
and pint31gland 34 3-6 passim freedom of 194,io5f, ;o. J79.J84,
as ac11ons of 1ht soul H) JJ9, 343-5 386, 187
as mode/kind of though/dunkulg io41 indiffcrtnre o( :06
s.
i.08 , l. 16, 196, )07l 3 J 4, ;33. 3J moclcso( io4
HJ S<X>p<c>f 104f
perecprions of 335 ~clf-cv1Jenct of irs freedom 1osf
sorrsof JJS Str<ngth/wcaknm of 347f
voncx.meaningo'vortcx' l.$ 711 w1'ldum 9 , 18, r79, r91f, ,)84, 404
soil< 253f lcvtlsof 181
wonder )lO, JJ 2, }5J- 6.J61, 37 if, ;81.
J87. 388, 192, 393
~o rd.s. mcamn,g ba~ on comtntion 81 f
"'"alu~, and sltq> 104. 19-1 rhmg.s dcrivod from 5J
"""'"8 369. 373-i. 40,l thoughts concerned with :u.o

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