DISCOURSE ON THE METHOD OF RIGHTLY CONDUCTING THE REASON, AND SEEKING TRUTH
IN THE SCIENCES
by Rene Descartes
PREFATORY NOTE BY THE AUTHOR
If this Discourse appear too long to be read at once, it may be divided
into six Parts: and, in the first, will be found various considerations
touching the Sciences; in the second, the principal rules of the Method
which the Author has discovered, in the third, certain of the rules of
Morals which he has deduced from this Method; in the fourth, the reasonings
by which he establishes the existence of God and of the Human Soul, which
are the foundations of his Metaphysic; in the fifth, the order of the Physical
questions which he has investigated, and, in particular, the explication
of the motion of the heart and of some other difficulties pertaining to
Medicine, as also the difference between the soul of man and that of the
brutes; and, in the last, what the Author believes to be required in order
to greater advancement in the investigation of Nature than has yet been
made, with the reasons that have induced him to write.
PART 1
Good sense is, of all things among men, the most equally distributed; for
every one thinks himself so abundantly provided with it, that those even
who are the most difficult to satisfy in everything else, do not usually
desire a larger measure of this quality than they already possess. And
in this it is not likely that all are mistaken the conviction is rather
to be held as testifying that the power of judging aright and of distinguishing
truth from error, which is properly what is called good sense or reason,
is by nature equal in all men; and that the diversity of our opinions,
consequently, does not arise from some being endowed with a larger share
of reason than others, but solely from this, that we conduct our thoughts
along different ways, and do not fix our attention on the same objects.
For to be possessed of a vigorous mind is not enough; the prime requisite
is rightly to apply it. The greatest minds, as they are capable of the
highest excellences, are open likewise to the greatest aberrations; and
those who travel very slowly may yet make far greater progress, provided
they keep always to the straight road, than those who, while they run,
forsake it.
For myself, I have never fancied my mind to be in any respect
more perfect than those of the generality; on the contrary, I have often
wished that I were equal to some others in promptitude of thought, or in
clearness and distinctness of imagination, or in fullness and readiness
of memory. And besides these, I know of no other qualities that contribute
to the perfection of the mind; for as to the reason or sense, inasmuch
as it is that alone which constitutes us men, and distinguishes us from
the brutes, I am disposed to believe that it is to be found complete in
each individual; and on this point to adopt the common opinion of philosophers,
who say that the difference of greater and less holds only among the accidents,
and not among the forms or natures of individuals of the same species.
I will not hesitate, however, to avow my belief that it has been
my singular good fortune to have very early in life fallen in with certain
tracks which have conducted me to considerations and maxims, of which I
have formed a method that gives me the means, as I think, of gradually
augmenting my knowledge, and of raising it by little and little to the
highest point which the mediocrity of my talents and the brief duration
of my life will permit me to reach. For I have already reaped from it such
fruits that, although I have been accustomed to think lowly enough of myself,
and although when I look with the eye of a philosopher at the varied courses
and pursuits of mankind at large, I find scarcely one which does not appear
in vain and useless, I nevertheless derive the highest satisfaction from
the progress I conceive myself to have already made in the search after
truth, and cannot help entertaining such expectations of the future as
to believe that if, among the occupations of men as men, there is any one
really excellent and important, it is that which I have chosen.
After all, it is possible I may be mistaken; and it is but a little
copper and glass, perhaps, that I take for gold and diamonds. I know how
very liable we are to delusion in what relates to ourselves, and also how
much the judgments of our friends are to be suspected when given in our
favor. But I shall endeavor in this discourse to describe the paths I have
followed, and to delineate my life as in a picture, in order that each
one may also be able to judge of them for himself, and that in the general
opinion entertained of them, as gathered from current report, I myself
may have a new help towards instruction to be added to those I have been
in the habit of employing.
My present design, then, is not to teach the method which each
ought to follow for the right conduct of his reason, but solely to describe
the way in which I have endeavored to conduct my own. They who set themselves
to give precepts must of course regard themselves as possessed of greater
skill than those to whom they prescribe; and if they err in the slightest
particular, they subject themselves to censure. But as this tract is put
forth merely as a history, or, if you will, as a tale, in which, amid some
examples worthy of imitation, there will be found, perhaps, as many more
which it were advisable not to follow, I hope it will prove useful to some
without being hurtful to any, and that my openness will find some favor
with all.
From my childhood, I have been familiar with letters; and as I
was given to believe that by their help a clear and certain knowledge of
all that is useful in life might be acquired, I was ardently desirous of
instruction. But as soon as I had finished the entire course of study,
at the close of which it is customary to be admitted into the order of
the learned, I completely changed my opinion. For I found myself involved
in so many doubts and errors, that I was convinced I had advanced no farther
in all my attempts at learning, than the discovery at every turn of my
own ignorance. And yet I was studying in one of the most celebrated schools
in Europe, in which I thought there must be learned men, if such were anywhere
to be found. I had been taught all that others learned there; and not contented
with the sciences actually taught us, I had, in addition, read all the
books that had fallen into my hands, treating of such branches as are esteemed
the most curious and rare. I knew the judgment which others had formed
of me; and I did not find that I was considered inferior to my fellows,
although there were among them some who were already marked out to fill
the places of our instructors. And, in fine, our age appeared to me as
flourishing, and as fertile in powerful minds as any preceding one. I was
thus led to take the liberty of judging of all other men by myself, and
of concluding that there was no science in existence that was of such a
nature as I had previously been given to believe.
I still continued, however, to hold in esteem the studies of the
schools. I was aware that the languages taught in them are necessary to
the understanding of the writings of the ancients; that the grace of fable
stirs the mind; that the memorable deeds of history elevate it; and, if
read with discretion, aid in forming the judgment; that the perusal of
all excellent books is, as it were, to interview with the noblest men of
past ages, who have written them, and even a studied interview, in which
are discovered to us only their choicest thoughts; that eloquence has incomparable
force and beauty; that poesy has its ravishing graces and delights; that
in the mathematics there are many refined discoveries eminently suited
to gratify the inquisitive, as well as further all the arts an lessen the
labour of man; that numerous highly useful precepts and exhortations to
virtue are contained in treatises on morals; that theology points out the
path to heaven; that philosophy affords the means of discoursing with an
appearance of truth on all matters, and commands the admiration of the
more simple; that jurisprudence, medicine, and the other sciences, secure
for their cultivators honors and riches; and, in fine, that it is useful
to bestow some attention upon all, even upon those abounding the most in
superstition and error, that we may be in a position to determine their
real value, and guard against being deceived.
But I believed that I had already given sufficient time to languages,
and likewise to the reading of the writings of the ancients, to their histories
and fables. For to hold converse with those of other ages and to travel,
are almost the same thing. It is useful to know something of the manners
of different nations, that we may be enabled to form a more correct judgment
regarding our own, and be prevented from thinking that everything contrary
to our customs is ridiculous and irrational, a conclusion usually come
to by those whose experience has been limited to their own country. On
the other hand, when too much time is occupied in traveling, we become
strangers to our native country; and the over curious in the customs of
the past are generally ignorant of those of the present. Besides, fictitious
narratives lead us to imagine the possibility of many events that are impossible;
and even the most faithful histories, if they do not wholly misrepresent
matters, or exaggerate their importance to render the account of them more
worthy of perusal, omit, at least, almost always the meanest and least
striking of the attendant circumstances; hence it happens that the remainder
does not represent the truth, and that such as regulate their conduct by
examples drawn from this source, are apt to fall into the extravagances
of the knight-errants of romance, and to entertain projects that exceed
their powers.
I esteemed eloquence highly, and was in raptures with poesy; but
I thought that both were gifts of nature rather than fruits of study. Those
in whom the faculty of reason is predominant, and who most skillfully dispose
their thoughts with a view to render them clear and intelligible, are always
the best able to persuade others of the truth of what they lay down, though
they should speak only in the language of Lower Brittany, and be wholly
ignorant of the rules of rhetoric; and those whose minds are stored with
the most agreeable fancies, and who can give expression to them with the
greatest embellishment and harmony, are still the best poets, though unacquainted
with the art of poetry.
I was especially delighted with the mathematics, on account of
the certitude and evidence of their reasonings; but I had not as yet a
precise knowledge of their true use; and thinking that they but contributed
to the advancement of the mechanical arts, I was astonished that foundations,
so strong and solid, should have had no loftier superstructure reared on
them. On the other hand, I compared the disquisitions of the ancient moralists
to very towering and magnificent palaces with no better foundation than
sand and mud: they laud the virtues very highly, and exhibit them as estimable
far above anything on earth; but they give us no adequate criterion of
virtue, and frequently that which they designate with so fine a name is
but apathy, or pride, or despair, or parricide.
I revered our theology, and aspired as much as any one to reach
heaven: but being given assuredly to understand that the way is not less
open to the most ignorant than to the most learned, and that the revealed
truths which lead to heaven are above our comprehension, I did not presume
to subject them to the impotency of my reason; and I thought that in order
competently to undertake their examination, there was need of some special
help from heaven, and of being more than man.
Of philosophy I will say nothing, except that when I saw that
it had been cultivated for many ages by the most distinguished men, and
that yet there is not a single matter within its sphere which is not still
in dispute, and nothing, therefore, which is above doubt, I did not presume
to anticipate that my success would be greater in it than that of others;
and further, when I considered the number of conflicting opinions touching
a single matter that may be upheld by learned men, while there can be but
one true, I reckoned as well-nigh false all that was only probable.
As to the other sciences, inasmuch as these borrow their principles
from philosophy, I judged that no solid superstructures could be reared
on foundations so infirm; and neither the honor nor the gain held out by
them was sufficient to determine me to their cultivation: for I was not,
thank Heaven, in a condition which compelled me to make merchandise of
science for the bettering of my fortune; and though I might not profess
to scorn glory as a cynic, I yet made very slight account of that honor
which I hoped to acquire only through fictitious titles. And, in fine,
of false sciences I thought I knew the worth sufficiently to escape being
deceived by the professions of an alchemist, the predictions of an astrologer,
the impostures of a magician, or by the artifices and boasting of any of
those who profess to know things of which they are ignorant.
For these reasons, as soon as my age permitted me to pass from
under the control of my instructors, I entire y abandoned the study of
letters, and resolved no longer to seek any other science than the knowledge
of myself, or of the great book of the world. I spent the remainder of
my youth in traveling, in visiting courts and armies, in holding intercourse
with men of different dispositions and ranks, in collecting varied experience,
in proving myself in the different situations into which fortune threw
me, and, above all, in making such reflection on the matter of my experience
as to secure my improvement. For it occurred to me that I should find much
more truth in the reasonings of each individual with reference to the affairs
in which he is personally interested, and the issue of which must presently
punish him if he has judged amiss, than in those conducted by a man of
letters in his study, regarding speculative matters that are of no practical
moment, and followed by no consequences to himself, farther, perhaps, than
that they foster his vanity the better the more remote they are from common
sense; requiring, as they must in this case, the exercise of greater ingenuity
and art to render them probable. In addition, I had always a most earnest
desire to know how to distinguish the true from the false, in order that
I might be able clearly to discriminate the right path in life, and proceed
in it with confidence.
It is true that, while busied only in considering the manners
of other men, I found here, too, scarce any ground for settled conviction,
and remarked hardly less contradiction among them than in the opinions
of the philosophers. So that the greatest advantage I derived from the
study consisted in this, that, observing many things which, however extravagant
and ridiculous to our apprehension, are yet by common consent received
and approved by other great nations, I learned to entertain too decided
a belief in regard to nothing of the truth of which I had been persuaded
merely by example and custom; and thus I gradually extricated myself from
many errors powerful enough to darken our natural intelligence, and incapacitate
us in great measure from listening to reason. But after I had been occupied
several years in thus studying the book of the world, and in essaying to
gather some experience, I at length resolved to make myself an object of
study, and to employ all the powers of my mind in choosing the paths I
ought to follow, an undertaking which was accompanied with greater success
than it would have been had I never quitted my country or my books.
PART II
I was then in Germany, attracted thither by the wars in that country, which
have not yet been brought to a termination; and as I was returning to the
army from the coronation of the emperor, the setting in of winter arrested
me in a locality where, as I found no society to interest me, and was besides
fortunately undisturbed by any cares or passions, I remained the whole
day in seclusion, with full opportunity to occupy my attention with my
own thoughts. Of these one of the very first that occurred to me was, that
there is seldom so much perfection in works composed of many separate parts,
upon which different hands had been employed, as in those completed by
a single master. Thus it is observable that the buildings which a single
architect has planned and executed, are generally more elegant and commodious
than those which several have attempted to improve, by making old walls
serve for purposes for which they were not originally built. Thus also,
those ancient cities which, from being at first only villages, have become,
in course of time, large towns, are usually but ill laid out compared with
the regularity constructed towns which a professional architect has freely
planned on an open plain; so that although the several buildings of the
former may often equal or surpass in beauty those of the latter, yet when
one observes their indiscriminate juxtaposition, there a large one and
here a small, and the consequent crookedness and irregularity of the streets,
one is disposed to allege that chance rather than any human will guided
by reason must have led to such an arrangement. And if we consider that
nevertheless there have been at all times certain officers whose duty it
was to see that private buildings contributed to public ornament, the difficulty
of reaching high perfection with but the materials of others to operate
on, will be readily acknowledged. In the same way I fancied that those
nations which, starting from a semi-barbarous state and advancing to civilization
by slow degrees, have had their laws successively determined, and, as it
were, forced upon them simply by experience of the hurtfulness of particular
crimes and disputes, would by this process come to be possessed of less
perfect institutions than those which, from the commencement of their association
as communities, have followed the appointments of some wise legislator.
It is thus quite certain that the constitution of the true religion, the
ordinances of which are derived from God, must be incomparably superior
to that of every other. And, to speak of human affairs, I believe that
the pre-eminence of Sparta was due not to the goodness of each of its laws
in particular, for many of these were very strange, and even opposed to
good morals, but to the circumstance that, originated by a single individual,
they all tended to a single end. In the same way I thought that the sciences
contained in books (such of them at least as are made up of probable reasonings,
without demonstrations), composed as they are of the opinions of many different
individuals massed together, are farther removed from truth than the simple
inferences which a man of good sense using his natural and unprejudiced
judgment draws respecting the matters of his experience. And because we
have all to pass through a state of infancy to manhood, and have been of
necessity, for a length of time, governed by our desires and preceptors
(whose dictates were frequently conflicting, while neither perhaps always
counseled us for the best), I farther concluded that it is almost impossible
that our judgments can be so correct or solid as they would have been,
had our reason been mature from the moment of our birth, and had we always
been guided by it alone.
It is true, however, that it is not customary to pull down all
the houses of a town with the single design of rebuilding them differently,
and thereby rendering the streets more handsome; but it often happens that
a private individual takes down his own with the view of erecting it anew,
and that people are even sometimes constrained to this when their houses
are in danger of falling from age, or when the foundations are insecure.
With this before me by way of example, I was persuaded that it would indeed
be preposterous for a private individual to think of reforming a state
by fundamentally changing it throughout, and overturning it in order to
set it up amended; and the same I thought was true of any similar project
for reforming the body of the sciences, or the order of teaching them established
in the schools: but as for the opinions which up to that time I had embraced,
I thought that I could not do better than resolve at once to sweep them
wholly away, that I might afterwards be in a position to admit either others
more correct, or even perhaps the same when they had undergone the scrutiny
of reason. I firmly believed that in this way I should much better succeed
in the conduct of my life, than if I built only upon old foundations, and
leaned upon principles which, in my youth, I had taken upon trust. For
although I recognized various difficulties in this undertaking, these were
not, however, without remedy, nor once to be compared with such as attend
the slightest reformation in public affairs. Large bodies, if once overthrown,
are with great difficulty set up again, or even kept erect when once seriously
shaken, and the fall of such is always disastrous. Then if there are any
imperfections in the constitutions of states (and that many such exist
the diversity of constitutions is alone sufficient to assure us), custom
has without doubt materially smoothed their inconveniences, and has even
managed to steer altogether clear of, or insensibly corrected a number
which sagacity could not have provided against with equal effect; and,
in fine, the defects are almost always more tolerable than the change necessary
for their removal; in the same manner that highways which wind among mountains,
by being much frequented, become gradually so smooth and commodious, that
it is much better to follow them than to seek a straighter path by climbing
over the tops of rocks and descending to the bottoms of precipices.
Hence it is that I cannot in any degree approve of those restless
and busy meddlers who, called neither by birth nor fortune to take part
in the management of public affairs, are yet always projecting reforms;
and if I thought that this tract contained aught which might justify the
suspicion that I was a victim of such folly, I would by no means permit
its publication. I have never contemplated anything higher than the reformation
of my own opinions, and basing them on a foundation wholly my own. And
although my own satisfaction with my work has led me to present here a
draft of it, I do not by any means therefore recommend to every one else
to make a similar attempt. Those whom God has endowed with a larger measure
of genius will entertain, perhaps, designs still more exalted; but for
the many I am much afraid lest even the present undertaking be more than
they can safely venture to imitate. The single design to strip one's self
of all past beliefs is one that ought not to be taken by every one. The
majority of men is composed of two classes, for neither of which would
this be at all a befitting resolution: in the first place, of those who
with more than a due confidence in their own powers, are precipitate in
their judgments and want the patience requisite for orderly and circumspect
thinking; whence it happens, that if men of this class once take the liberty
to doubt of their accustomed opinions, and quit the beaten highway, they
will never be able to thread the byway that would lead them by a shorter
course, and will lose themselves and continue to wander for life; in the
second place, of those who, possessed of sufficient sense or modesty to
determine that there are others who excel them in the power of discriminating
between truth and error, and by whom they may be instructed, ought rather
to content themselves with the opinions of such than trust for more correct
to their own reason.
For my own part, I should doubtless have belonged to the latter
class, had I received instruction from but one master, or had I never known
the diversities of opinion that from time immemorial have prevailed among
men of the greatest learning. But I had become aware, even so early as
during my college life, that no opinion, however absurd and incredible,
can be imagined, which has not been maintained by some on of the philosophers;
and afterwards in the course of my travels I remarked that all those whose
opinions are decidedly repugnant to ours are not in that account barbarians
and savages, but on the contrary that many of these nations make an equally
good, if not better, use of their reason than we do. I took into account
also the very different character which a person brought up from infancy
in France or Germany exhibits, from that which, with the same mind originally,
this individual would have possessed had he lived always among the Chinese
or with savages, and the circumstance that in dress itself the fashion
which pleased us ten years ago, and which may again, perhaps, be received
into favor before ten years have gone, appears to us at this moment extravagant
and ridiculous. I was thus led to infer that the ground of our opinions
is far more custom and example than any certain knowledge. And, finally,
although such be the ground of our opinions, I remarked that a plurality
of suffrages is no guarantee of truth where it is at all of difficult discovery,
as in such cases it is much more likely that it will be found by one than
by many. I could, however, select from the crowd no one whose opinions
seemed worthy of preference, and thus I found myself constrained, as it
were, to use my own reason in the conduct of my life.
But like one walking alone and in the dark, I resolved to proceed
so slowly and with such circumspection, that if I did not advance far,
I would at least guard against falling. I did not even choose to dismiss
summarily any of the opinions that had crept into my belief without having
been introduced by reason, but first of all took sufficient time carefully
to satisfy myself of the general nature of the task I was setting myself,
and ascertain the true method by which to arrive at the knowledge of whatever
lay within the compass of my powers.
Among the branches of philosophy, I had, at an earlier period,
given some attention to logic, and among those of the mathematics to geometrical
analysis and algebra, -- three arts or sciences which ought, as I conceived,
to contribute something to my design. But, on examination, I found that,
as for logic, its syllogisms and the majority of its other precepts are
of avail- rather in the communication of what we already know, or even
as the art of Lully, in speaking without judgment of things of which we
are ignorant, than in the investigation of the unknown; and although this
science contains indeed a number of correct and very excellent precepts,
there are, nevertheless, so many others, and these either injurious or
superfluous, mingled with the former, that it is almost quite as difficult
to effect a severance of the true from the false as it is to extract a
Diana or a Minerva from a rough block of marble. Then as to the analysis
of the ancients and the algebra of the moderns, besides that they embrace
only matters highly abstract, and, to appearance, of no use, the former
is so exclusively restricted to the consideration of figures, that it can
exercise the understanding only on condition of greatly fatiguing the imagination;
and, in the latter, there is so complete a subjection to certain rules
and formulas, that there results an art full of confusion and obscurity
calculated to embarrass, instead of a science fitted to cultivate the mind.
By these considerations I was induced to seek some other method which would
comprise the advantages of the three and be exempt from their defects.
And as a multitude of laws often only hampers justice, so that a state
is best governed when, with few laws, these are rigidly administered; in
like manner, instead of the great number of precepts of which logic is
composed, I believed that the four following would prove perfectly sufficient
for me, provided I took the firm and unwavering resolution never in a single
instance to fail in observing them.
The first was never to accept anything for true which I did not
clearly know to be such; that is to say, carefully to avoid precipitancy
and prejudice, and to comprise nothing more in my judgement than what was
presented to my mind so clearly and distinctly as to exclude all ground
of doubt.
The second, to divide each of the difficulties under examination
into as many parts as possible, and as might be necessary for its adequate
solution.
The third, to conduct my thoughts in such order that, by commencing
with objects the simplest and easiest to know, I might ascend by little
and little, and, as it were, step by step, to the knowledge of the more
complex; assigning in thought a certain order even to those objects which
in their own nature do not stand in a relation of antecedence and sequence.
And the last, in every case to make enumerations so complete,
and reviews so general, that I might be assured that nothing was omitted.
The long chains of simple and easy reasonings by means of which
geometers are accustomed to reach the conclusions of their most difficult
demonstrations, had led me to imagine that all things, to the knowledge
of which man is competent, are mutually connected in the same way, and
that there is nothing so far removed from us as to be beyond our reach,
or so hidden that we cannot discover it, provided only we abstain from
accepting the false for the true, and always preserve in our thoughts the
order necessary for the deduction of one truth from another. And I had
little difficulty in determining the objects with which it was necessary
to commence, for I was already persuaded that it must be with the simplest
and easiest to know, and, considering that of all those who have hitherto
sought truth in the sciences, the mathematicians alone have been able to
find any demonstrations, that is, any certain and evident reasons, I did
not doubt but that such must have been the rule of their investigations.
I resolved to commence, therefore, with the examination of the simplest
objects, not anticipating, however, from this any other advantage than
that to be found in accustoming my mind to the love and nourishment of
truth, and to a distaste for all such reasonings as were unsound. But I
had no intention on that account of attempting to master all the particular
sciences commonly denominated mathematics: but observing that, however
different their objects, they all agree in considering only the various
relations or proportions subsisting among those objects, I thought it best
for my purpose to consider these proportions in the most general form possible,
without referring them to any objects in particular, except such as would
most facilitate the knowledge of them, and without by any means restricting
them to these, that afterwards I might thus be the better able to apply
them to every other class of objects to which they are legitimately applicable.
Perceiving further, that in order to understand these relations I should
sometimes have to consider them one by one and sometimes only to bear them
in mind, or embrace them in the aggregate, I thought that, in order the
better to consider them individually, I should view them as subsisting
between straight lines, than which I could find no objects more simple,
or capable of being more distinctly represented to my imagination and senses;
and on the other hand, that in order to retain them in the memory or embrace
an aggregate of many, I should express them by certain characters the briefest
possible. In this way I believed that I could borrow all that was best
both in geometrical analysis and in algebra, and correct all the defects
of the one by help of the other.
And, in point of fact, the accurate observance of these few precepts
gave me, I take the liberty of saying, such ease in unraveling all the
questions embraced in these two sciences, that in the two or three months
I devoted to their examination, not only did I reach solutions of questions
I had formerly deemed exceedingly difficult but even as regards questions
of the solution of which I continued ignorant, I was enabled, as it appeared
to me, to determine the means whereby, and the extent to which a solution
was possible; results attributable to the circumstance that I commenced
with the simplest and most general truths, and that thus each truth discovered
was a rule available in the discovery of subsequent ones Nor in this perhaps
shall I appear too vain, if it be considered that, as the truth on any
particular point is one whoever apprehends the truth, knows all that on
that point can be known. The child, for example, who has been instructed
in the elements of arithmetic, and has made a particular addition, according
to rule, may be assured that he has found, with respect to the sum of the
numbers before him, and that in this instance is within the reach of human
genius. Now, in conclusion, the method which teaches adherence to the true
order, and an exact enumeration of all the conditions of the thing .sought
includes all that gives certitude to the rules of arithmetic.
But the chief ground of my satisfaction with thus method, was
the assurance I had of thereby exercising my reason in all matters, if
not with absolute perfection, at least with the greatest attainable by
me: besides, I was conscious that by its use my mind was becoming gradually
habituated to clearer and more distinct conceptions of its objects; and
I hoped also, from not having restricted this method to any particular
matter, to apply it to the difficulties of the other sciences, with not
less success than to those of algebra. I should not, however, on this account
have ventured at once on the examination of all the difficulties of the
sciences which presented themselves to me, for this would have been contrary
to the order prescribed in the method, but observing that the knowledge
of such is dependent on principles borrowed from philosophy, in which I
found nothing certain, I thought it necessary first of all to endeavor
to establish its principles. .And because I observed, besides, that an
inquiry of this kind was of all others of the greatest moment, and one
in which precipitancy and anticipation in judgment were most to be dreaded,
I thought that I ought not to approach it till I had reached a more mature
age (being at that time but twenty-three), and had first of all employed
much of my time in preparation for the work, as well by eradicating from
my mind all the erroneous opinions I had up to that moment accepted, as
by amassing variety of experience to afford materials for my reasonings,
and by continually exercising myself in my chosen method with a view to
increased skill in its application.
PART III
And finally, as it is not enough, before commencing to rebuild the house
in which we live, that it be pulled down, and materials and builders provided,
or that we engage in the work ourselves, according to a plan which we have
beforehand carefully drawn out, but as it is likewise necessary that we
be furnished with some other house in which we may live commodiously during
the operations, so that I might not remain irresolute in my actions, while
my reason compelled me to suspend my judgement, and that I might not be
prevented from living thenceforward in the greatest possible felicity,
I formed a provisory code of morals, composed of three or four maxims,
with which I am desirous to make you acquainted.
The first was to obey the laws and customs of my country, adhering
firmly to the faith in which, by the grace of God, I had been educated
from my childhood and regulating my conduct in every other matter according
to the most moderate opinions, and the farthest removed from extremes,
which should happen to be adopted in practice with general consent of the
most judicious of those among whom I might be living. For as I had from
that time begun to hold my own opinions for nought because I wished to
subject them all to examination, I was convinced that I could not do better
than follow in the meantime the opinions of the most judicious; and although
there are some perhaps among the Persians and Chinese as judicious as among
ourselves, expediency seemed to dictate that I should regulate my practice
conformably to the opinions of those with whom I should have to live; and
it appeared to me that, in order to ascertain the real opinions of such,
I ought rather to take cognizance of what they practised than of what they
said, not only because, in the corruption of our manners, there are few
disposed to speak exactly as they believe, but also because very many are
not aware of what it is that they really believe; for, as the act of mind
by which a thing is believed is different from that by which we know that
we believe it, the one act is often found without the other. Also, amid
many opinions held in equal repute, I chose always the most moderate, as
much for the reason that these are always the most convenient for practice,
and probably the best (for all excess is generally vicious), as that, in
the event of my falling into error, I might be at less distance from the
truth than if, having chosen one of the extremes, it should turn out to
be the other which I ought to have adopted. And I placed in the class of
extremes especially all promises by which somewhat of our freedom is abridged;
not that I disapproved of the laws which, to provide against the instability
of men of feeble resolution, when what is sought to be accomplished is
some good, permit engagements by vows and contracts binding the parties
to persevere in it, or even, for the security of commerce, sanction similar
engagements where the purpose sought to be realized is indifferent: but
because I did not find anything on earth which was wholly superior to change,
and because, for myself in particular, I hoped gradually to perfect my
judgments, and not to suffer them to deteriorate, I would have deemed it
a grave sin against good sense, if, for the reason that I approved of something
at a particular time, I therefore bound myself to hold it for good at a
subsequent time, when perhaps it had ceased to be so, or I had ceased to
esteem it such.
My second maxim was to be as firm and resolute in my actions as
I was able, and not to adhere less steadfastly to the most doubtful opinions,
when once adopted, than if they had been highly certain; imitating in this
the example of travelers who, when they have lost their way in a forest,
ought not to wander from side to side, far less remain in one place, but
proceed constantly towards the same side in as straight a line as possible,
without changing their direction for slight reasons, although perhaps it
might be chance alone which at first determined the selection; for in this
way, if they do not exactly reach the point they desire, they will come
at least in the end to some place that will probably be preferable to the
middle of a forest. In the same way, since in action it frequently happens
that no delay is permissible, it is very certain that, when it is not in
our power to determine what is true, we ought to act according to what
is most probable; and even although we should not remark a greater probability
in one opinion than in another, we ought notwithstanding to choose one
or the other, and afterwards consider it, in so far as it relates to practice,
as no longer dubious, but manifestly true and certain, since the reason
by which our choice has been determined is itself possessed of these qualities.
This principle was sufficient thenceforward to rid me of all those repentings
and pangs of remorse that usually disturb the consciences of such feeble
and uncertain minds as, destitute of any clear and determinate principle
of choice, allow themselves one day to adopt a course of action as the
best, which they abandon the next, as the opposite.
My third maxim was to endeavor always to conquer myself rather
than fortune, and change my desires rather than the order of the world,
and in general, accustom myself to the persuasion that, except our own
thoughts, there is nothing absolutely in our power; so that when we have
done our best in things external to us, all wherein we fail of success
is to be held, as regards us, absolutely impossible: and this single principle
seemed to me sufficient to prevent me from desiring for the future anything
which I could not obtain, and thus render me contented; for since our will
naturally seeks those objects alone which the understanding represents
as in some way possible of attainment, it is plain, that if we consider
all external goods as equally beyond our power, we shall no more regret
the absence of such goods as seem due to our birth, when deprived of them
without any fault of ours, than our not possessing the kingdoms of China
or Mexico, and thus making, so to speak, a virtue of necessity, we shall
no more desire health in disease, or freedom in imprisonment, than we now
do bodies incorruptible as diamonds, or the wings of birds to fly with.
But I confess there is need of prolonged discipline and frequently repeated
meditation to accustom the mind to view all objects in this light; and
I believe that in this chiefly consisted the secret of the power of such
philosophers as in former times were enabled to rise superior to the influence
of fortune, and, amid suffering and poverty, enjoy a happiness which their
gods might have envied. For, occupied incessantly with the consideration
of the limits prescribed to their power by nature, they became so entirely
convinced that nothing was at their disposal except their own thoughts,
that this conviction was of itself sufficient to prevent their entertaining
any desire of other objects; and over their thoughts they acquired a sway
so absolute, that they had some ground on this account for esteeming themselves
more rich and more powerful, more free and more happy, than other men who,
whatever be the favors heaped on them by nature and fortune, if destitute
of this philosophy, can never command the realization of all their desires.
In fine, to conclude this code of morals, I thought of reviewing
the different occupations of men in this life, with the view of making
choice of the best. And, without wishing to offer any remarks on the employments
of others, I may state that it was my conviction that I could not do better
than continue in that in which I was engaged, viz., in devoting my whole
life to the culture of my reason, and in making the greatest progress I
was able in the knowledge of truth, on the principles of the method which
I had prescribed to myself. This method, from the time I had begun to apply
it, had been to me the source of satisfaction so intense as to lead me
to, believe that more perfect or more innocent could not be enjoyed in
this life; and as by its means I daily discovered truths that appeared
to me of some importance, and of which other men were generally ignorant,
the gratification thence arising so occupied my mind that I was wholly
indifferent to every other object. Besides, the three preceding maxims
were founded singly on the design of continuing the work of self- instruction.
For since God has endowed each of us with some light of reason by which
to distinguish truth from error, I could not have believed that I ought
for a single moment to rest satisfied with the opinions of another, unless
I had resolved to exercise my own judgment in examining these whenever
I should be duly qualified for the task. Nor could I have proceeded on
such opinions without scruple, had I supposed that I should thereby forfeit
any advantage for attaining still more accurate, should such exist. And,
in fine, I could not have restrained my desires, nor remained satisfied
had I not followed a path in which I thought myself certain of attaining
all the knowledge to the acquisition of which I was competent, as well
as the largest amount of what is truly good which I could ever hope to
secure Inasmuch as we neither seek nor shun any object except in so far
as our understanding represents it as good or bad, all that is necessary
to right action is right judgment, and to the best action the most correct
judgment, that is, to the acquisition of all the virtues with all else
that is truly valuable and within our reach; and the assurance of such
an acquisition cannot fail to render us contented.
Having thus provided myself with these maxims, and having placed
them in reserve along with the truths of faith, which have ever occupied
the first place in my belief, I came to the conclusion that I might with
freedom set about ridding myself of what remained of my opinions. And,
inasmuch as I hoped to be better able successfully to accomplish this work
by holding intercourse with mankind, than by remaining longer shut up in
the retirement where these thoughts had occurred to me, I betook me again
to traveling before the winter was well ended. And, during the nine subsequent
years, I did nothing but roam from one place to another, desirous of being
a spectator rather than an actor in the plays exhibited on the theater
of the world; and, as I made it my business in each matter to reflect particularly
upon what might fairly be doubted and prove a source of error, I gradually
rooted out from my mind all the errors which had hitherto crept into it.
Not that in this I imitated the sceptics who doubt only that they may doubt,
and seek nothing beyond uncertainty itself; for, on the contrary, my design
was singly to find ground of assurance, and cast aside the loose earth
and sand, that I might reach the rock or the clay. In this, as appears
to me, I was successful enough; for, since I endeavored to discover the
falsehood or incertitude of the propositions I examined, not by feeble
conjectures, but by clear and certain reasonings, I met with nothing so
doubtful as not to yield some conclusion of adequate certainty, although
this were merely the inference, that the matter in question contained nothing
certain. And, just as in pulling down an old house, we usually reserve
the ruins to contribute towards the erection, so, in destroying such of
my opinions as I judged to be Ill-founded, I made a variety of observations
and acquired an amount of experience of which I availed myself in the establishment
of more certain. And further, I continued to exercise myself in the method
I had prescribed; for, besides taking care in general to conduct all my
thoughts according to its rules, I reserved some hours from time to time
which I expressly devoted to the employment of the method in the solution
of mathematical difficulties, or even in the solution likewise of some
questions belonging to other sciences, but which, by my having detached
them from such principles of these sciences as were of inadequate certainty,
were rendered almost mathematical: the truth of this will be manifest from
the numerous examples contained in this volume. And thus, without in appearance
living otherwise than those who, with no other occupation than that of
spending their lives agreeably and innocently, study to sever pleasure
from vice, and who, that they may enjoy their leisure without ennui, have
recourse to such pursuits as are honorable, I was nevertheless prosecuting
my design, and making greater progress in the knowledge of truth, than
I might, perhaps, have made had I been engaged in the perusal of books
merely, or in holding converse with men of letters.
These nine years passed away, however, before I had come to any
determinate judgment respecting the difficulties which form matter of dispute
among the learned, or had commenced to seek the principles of any philosophy
more certain than the vulgar. And the examples of many men of the highest
genius, who had, in former times, engaged in this inquiry, but, as appeared
to me, without success, led me to imagine it to be a work of so much difficulty,
that I would not perhaps have ventured on it so soon had I not heard it
currently rumored that I had already completed the inquiry. I know not
what were the grounds of this opinion; and, if my conversation contributed
in any measure to its rise, this must have happened rather from my having
confessed my Ignorance with greater freedom than those are accustomed to
do who have studied a little, and expounded perhaps, the reasons that led
me to doubt of many of those things that by others are esteemed certain,
than from my having boasted of any system of philosophy. But, as I am of
a disposition that makes me unwilling to be esteemed different from what
I really am, I thought it necessary to endeavor by all means to render
myself worthy of the reputation accorded to me; and it is now exactly eight
years since this desire constrained me to remove from all those places
where interruption from any of my acquaintances was possible, and betake
myself to this country, in which the long duration of the war has led to
the establishment of such discipline, that the armies maintained seem to
be of use only in enabling the inhabitants to enjoy more securely the blessings
of peace and where, in the midst of a great crowd actively engaged in business,
and more careful of their own affairs than curious about those of others,
I have been enabled to live without being deprived of any of the conveniences
to be had in the most populous cities, and yet as solitary and as retired
as in the midst of the most remote deserts.
PART IV
I am in doubt as to the propriety of making my first meditations in the
place above mentioned matter of discourse; for these are so metaphysical,
and so uncommon, as not, perhaps, to be acceptable to every one. And yet,
that it may be determined whether the foundations that I have laid are
sufficiently secure, I find myself in a measure constrained to advert to
them. I had long before remarked that, in relation to practice, it is sometimes
necessary to adopt, as if above doubt, opinions which we discern to be
highly uncertain, as has been already said; but as I then desired to give
my attention solely to the search after truth, I thought that a procedure
exactly the opposite was called for, and that I ought to reject as absolutely
false all opinions in regard to which I could suppose the least ground
for doubt, in order to ascertain whether after that there remained aught
in my belief that was wholly indubitable. Accordingly, seeing that our
senses sometimes deceive us, I was willing to suppose that there existed
nothing really such as they presented to us; and because some men err in
reasoning, and fall into paralogisms, even on the simplest matters of geometry,
I, convinced that I was as open to error as any other, rejected as false
all the reasonings I had hitherto taken for demonstrations; and finally,
when I considered that the very same thoughts (presentations) which we
experience when awake may also be experienced when we are asleep, while
there is at that time not one of them true, I supposed that all the objects
(presentations) that had ever entered into my mind when awake, had in them
no more truth than the illusions of my dreams. But immediately upon this
I observed that, whilst I thus wished to think that all was false, it was
absolutely necessary that I, who thus thought, should be somewhat; and
as I observed that this truth, I think, therefore I am (COGITO ERGO SUM),
was so certain and of such evidence that no ground of doubt, however extravagant,
could be alleged by the sceptics capable of shaking it, I concluded that
I might, without scruple, accept it as the first principle of the philosophy
of which I was in search
In the next place, I attentively examined what I was and as I
observed that I could suppose that I had no body, and that there was no
world nor any place in which I might be; but that I could not therefore
suppose that I was not; and that, on the contrary, from the very circumstance
that I thought to doubt of the truth of other things, it most clearly and
certainly followed that I was; while, on the other hand, if I had only
ceased to think, although all the other objects which I had ever imagined
had been in reality existent, I would have had no reason to believe that
I existed; I thence concluded that I was a substance whose whole essence
or nature consists only in thinking, and which, that it may exist, has
need of no place, nor is dependent on any material thing; so that " I,"
that is to say, the mind by which I am what I am, is wholly distinct from
the body, and is even more easily known than the latter, and is such, that
although the latter were not, it would still continue to be all that it
is.
After this I inquired in general into what is essential I to the
truth and certainty of a proposition; for since I had discovered one which
I knew to be true, I thought that I must likewise be able to discover the
ground of this certitude. And as I observed that in the words I think,
therefore I am, there is nothing at all which gives me assurance of their
truth beyond this, that I see very clearly that in order to think it is
necessary to exist, I concluded that I might take, as a general rule, the
principle, that all the things which we very clearly and distinctly conceive
are true, only observing, however, that there is some difficulty in rightly
determining the objects which we distinctly conceive.
In the next place, from reflecting on the circumstance that I
doubted, and that consequently my being was not wholly perfect (for I clearly
saw that it was a greater perfection to know than to doubt), I was led
to inquire whence I had learned to think of something more perfect than
myself; and I clearly recognized that I must hold this notion from some
nature which in reality was more perfect. As for the thoughts of many other
objects external to me, as of the sky, the earth, light, heat, and a thousand
more, I was less at a loss to know whence these came; for since I remarked
in them nothing which seemed to render them superior to myself, I could
believe that, if these were true, they were dependencies on my own nature,
in so far as it possessed a certain perfection, and, if they were false,
that I held them from nothing, that is to say, that they were in me because
of a certain imperfection of my nature. But this could not be the case
with-the idea of a nature more perfect than myself; for to receive it from
nothing was a thing manifestly impossible; and, because it is not less
repugnant that the more perfect should be an effect of, and dependence
on the less perfect, than that something should proceed from nothing, it
was equally impossible that I could hold it from myself: accordingly, it
but remained that it had been placed in me by a nature which was in reality
more perfect than mine, and which even possessed within itself all the
perfections of which I could form any idea; that is to say, in a single
word, which was God. And to this I added that, since I knew some perfections
which I did not possess, I was not the only being in existence (I will
here, with your permission, freely use the terms of the schools); but,
on the contrary, that there was of necessity some other more perfect Being
upon whom I was dependent, and from whom I had received all that I possessed;
for if I had existed alone, and independently of every other being, so
as to have had from myself all the perfection, however little, which I
actually possessed, I should have been able, for the same reason, to have
had from myself the whole remainder of perfection, of the want of which
I was conscious, and thus could of myself have become infinite, eternal,
immutable, omniscient, all-powerful, and, in fine, have possessed all the
perfections which I could recognize in God. For in order to know the nature
of God (whose existence has been established by the preceding reasonings),
as far as my own nature permitted, I had only to consider in reference
to all the properties of which I found in my mind some idea, whether their
possession was a mark of perfection; and I was assured that no one which
indicated any imperfection was in him, and that none of the rest was awanting.
Thus I perceived that doubt, inconstancy, sadness, and such like, could
not be found in God, since I myself would have been happy to be free from
them. Besides, I had ideas of many sensible and corporeal things; for although
I might suppose that I was dreaming, and that all which I saw or imagined
was false, I could not, nevertheless, deny that the ideas were in reality
in my thoughts. But, because I had already very clearly recognized in myself
that the intelligent nature is distinct from the corporeal, and as I observed
that all composition is an evidence of dependency, and that a state of
dependency is manifestly a state of imperfection, I therefore determined
that it could not be a perfection in God to be compounded of these two
natures and that consequently he was not so compounded; but that if there
were any bodies in the world, or even any intelligences, or other natures
that were not wholly perfect, their existence depended on his power in
such a way that they could not subsist without him for a single moment.
I was disposed straightway to search for other truths and when
I had represented to myself the object of the geometers, which I conceived
to be a continuous body or a space indefinitely extended in length, breadth,
and height or depth, divisible into divers parts which admit of different
figures and sizes, and of being moved or transposed in all manner of ways
(for all this the geometers suppose to be in the object they contemplate),
I went over some of their simplest demonstrations. And, in the first place,
I observed, that the great certitude which by common consent is accorded
to these demonstrations, is founded solely upon this, that they are clearly
conceived in accordance with the rules I have already laid down In the
next place, I perceived that there was nothing at all in these demonstrations
which could assure me of the existence of their object: thus, for example,
supposing a triangle to be given, I distinctly perceived that its three
angles were necessarily equal to two right angles, but I did not on that
account perceive anything which could assure me that any triangle existed:
while, on the contrary, recurring to the examination of the idea of a Perfect
Being, I found that the existence of the Being was comprised in the idea
in the same way that the equality of its three angles to two right angles
is comprised in the idea of a triangle, or as in the idea of a sphere,
the equidistance of all points on its surface from the center, or even
still more clearly; and that consequently it is at least as certain that
God, who is this Perfect Being, is, or exists, as any demonstration of
geometry can be.
But the reason which leads many to persuade them selves that there
is a difficulty in knowing this truth, and even also in knowing what their
mind really is, is that they never raise their thoughts above sensible
objects, and are so accustomed to consider nothing except by way of imagination,
which is a mode of thinking limited to material objects, that all that
is not imaginable seems to them not intelligible. The truth of this is
sufficiently manifest from the single circumstance, that the philosophers
of the schools accept as a maxim that there is nothing in the understanding
which was not previously in the senses, in which however it is certain
that the ideas of God and of the soul have never been; and it appears to
me that they who make use of their imagination to comprehend these ideas
do exactly the some thing as if, in order to hear sounds or smell odors,
they strove to avail themselves of their eyes; unless indeed that there
is this difference, that the sense of sight does not afford us an inferior
assurance to those of smell or hearing; in place of which, neither our
imagination nor our senses can give us assurance of anything unless our
understanding intervene.
Finally, if there be still persons who are not sufficiently persuaded
of the existence of God and of the soul, by the reasons I have adduced,
I am desirous that they should know that all the other propositions, of
the truth of which they deem themselves perhaps more assured, as that we
have a body, and that there exist stars and an earth, and such like, are
less certain; for, although we have a moral assurance of these things,
which is so strong that there is an appearance of extravagance in doubting
of their existence, yet at the same time no one, unless his intellect is
impaired, can deny, when the question relates to a metaphysical certitude,
that there is sufficient reason to exclude entire assurance, in the observation
that when asleep we can in the same way imagine ourselves possessed of
another body and that we see other stars and another earth, when there
is nothing of the kind. For how do we know that the thoughts which occur
in dreaming are false rather than those other which we experience when
awake, since the former are often not less vivid and distinct than the
latter? And though men of the highest genius study this question as long
as they please, I do not believe that they will be able to give any reason
which can be sufficient to remove this doubt, unless they presuppose the
existence of God. For, in the first place even the principle which I have
already taken as a rule, viz., that all the things which we clearly and
distinctly conceive are true, is certain only because God is or exists
and because he is a Perfect Being, and because all that we possess is derived
from him: whence it follows that our ideas or notions, which to the extent
of their clearness and distinctness are real, and proceed from God, must
to that extent be true. Accordingly, whereas we not infrequently have ideas
or notions in which some falsity is contained, this can only be the case
with such as are to some extent confused and obscure, and in this proceed
from nothing (participate of negation), that is, exist in us thus confused
because we are not wholly perfect. And it is evident that it is not less
repugnant that falsity or imperfection, in so far as it is imperfection,
should proceed from God, than that truth or perfection should proceed from
nothing. But if we did not know that all which we possess of real and true
proceeds from a Perfect and Infinite Being, however clear and distinct
our ideas might be, we should have no ground on that account for the assurance
that they possessed the perfection of being true.
But after the knowledge of God and of the soul has rendered us
certain of this rule, we can easily understand that the truth of the thoughts
we experience when awake, ought not in the slightest degree to be called
in question on account of the illusions of our dreams. For if it happened
that an individual, even when asleep, had some very distinct idea, as,
for example, if a geometer should discover some new demonstration, the
circumstance of his being asleep would not militate against its truth;
and as for the most ordinary error of our dreams, which consists in their
representing to us various objects in the same way as our external senses,
this is not prejudicial, since it leads us very properly to suspect the
truth of the ideas of sense; for we are not infrequently deceived in the
same manner when awake; as when persons in the jaundice see all objects
yellow, or when the stars or bodies at a great distance appear to us much
smaller than they are. For, in fine, whether awake or asleep, we ought
never to allow ourselves to be persuaded of the truth of anything unless
on the evidence of our reason. And it must be noted that I say of our reason,
and not of our imagination or of our senses: thus, for example, although
we very clearly see the sun, we ought not therefore to determine that it
is only of the size which our sense of sight presents; and we may very
distinctly imagine the head of a lion joined to the body of a goat, without
being therefore shut up to the conclusion that a chimaera exists; for it
is not a dictate of reason that what we thus see or imagine is in reality
existent; but it plainly tells us that all our ideas or notions contain
in them some truth; for otherwise it could not be that God, who is wholly
perfect and veracious, should have placed them in us. And because our reasonings
are never so clear or so complete during sleep as when we are awake, although
sometimes the acts of our imagination are then as lively and distinct,
if not more so than in our waking moments, reason further dictates that,
since all our thoughts cannot be true because of our partial imperfection,
those possessing truth must infallibly be found in the experience of our
waking moments rather than in that of our dreams. |