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PART IV
I Know not whether I ought to entertain you with the first Meditations
which I had there, for they are so Metaphysicall and so little common,
that perhaps they will not be relished by all men: And yet that you may
judge whether the foundations I have laid are firm enough, I find my
self in a manner oblig'd to discourse them; I had long since observed
that as for manners, it was somtimes necessary to follow those opinions
which we know to be very uncertain, as much as if they were indubitable,
as is beforesaid: But because that then I desired onely to intend the
search of truth, I thought I ought to doe the contrary, and reject as
absolutely false all wherein I could imagine the least doubt, to the end
I might see if afterwards any thing might remain in my belief, not at
all subject to doubt. Thus because our senses sometimes deceive us, I
would suppose that there was nothing which was such as they represented
it to us. And because there are men who mistake themselves in reasoning,
even in the most simple matters of Geometry, and make therein
Paralogismes, judging that I was as subject to fail as any other Man, I
rejected as false all those reasons, which I had before taken for
Demonstrations. And considering, that the same thoughts which we have
waking, may also happen to us sleeping, when as not any one of them is
true. I resolv'd to faign, that all those things which ever entred into
my Minde, were no more true, then the illusions of my dreams. But
presently after I observ'd, that whilst I would think that all was
false, it must necessarily follow, that I who thought it, must be
something. And perceiving that this Truth, _I think_, therefore, _I am_,
was so firm and certain, that all the most extravagant suppositions of
the Scepticks was not able to shake it, I judg'd that I might receive it
without scruple for the first principle of the Philosophy I sought.
Examining carefully afterwards what I was; and seeing that I could
suppose that I had no _body_, and that there was no _World_, nor any
_place_ where I was: but for all this, I could not feign that I _was
not_; and that even contrary thereto, thinking to doubt the truth of
other things, it most evidently and certainly followed, That _I was_:
whereas, if I had ceas'd to _think_, although all the rest of what-ever
I had imagined were true, I had no reason to beleeve that _I had been_.
I knew then that I was a substance, whose whole essence or nature is,
but to _think_, and who to _be_, hath need of no place, nor depends on
any materiall thing. So that this _Me_, to wit, my Soul, by which I am
what I am, is wholly distinct from the Body, and more easie to be known
then _it_; and although _that_ were not, it would not therefore cease to
be what it is.
After this I considered in generall what is requisite in a Proposition
to make it true and certain: for since I had found out one which I knew
to be so, I thought I ought also to consider wherein that certainty
consisted: and having observed, That there is nothing at all in this, _I
think_, therefore _I am_, which assures me that I speak the truth,
except this, that I see most cleerly, That _to think_, one must have a
_being_; I judg'd that I might take for a generall rule, That those
things which we conceive cleerly and distinctly, are all true; and that
the onely difficulty is punctually to observe what those are which we
distinctly conceive.
In pursuance whereof, reflecting on what I doubted, and that
consequently my _being_ was not perfect; for I clearly perceived, that
it was a greater perfection to know, then to doubt, I advised in my
self to seek from whence I had learnt to think on something which was
more perfect then I; and I knew evidently that it must be of some nature
which was indeed more perfect. As for what concerns the thoughts I had
of divers other things without my self, as of heaven, earth, light,
heat, and a thousand more, I was not so much troubled to know whence
they came, for that I observed nothing in them which seemed to render
them superiour to me; I might beleeve, that if they were true, they were
dependancies from my nature, as far forth as it had any perfection; and
if they were not, I made no accompt of them; that is to say, That they
were in me, because I had something deficient. But it could not be the
same with the _Idea_ of a being more perfect then mine: For to esteem of
it as of nothing, was a thing manifestly impossible. And because there
is no lesse repugnancy that the more perfect should succeed from and
depend upon the less perfect, then for something to proceed from
nothing, I could no more hold it from my self: So as it followed, that
it must have bin put into me by a Nature which was truly more perfect
then _I_, and even which had in it all the perfections whereof I could
have an _Idea_; to wit, (to explain my self in one word) God. Whereto I
added, that since I knew some perfections which I had not, I was not the
onely _Being_ which had an existence, (I shall, under favour, use here
freely the terms of the Schools) but that of necessity there must be
some other more perfect whereon I depended, and from whom I had gotten
all what I had: For had I been alone, and depending upon no other thing,
so that I had had of my self all that little which I participated of a
perfect Being, I might have had by the same reason from my self, all the
remainder which I knew I wanted, and so have been my self infinite,
eternall, immutable, all-knowing, almighty; and lastly, have had all
those perfections which I have observed to be in God. For according to
the way of reasoning I have now followed, to know the nature of God, as
far as mine own was capable of it, I was onely to consider of those
things of which I found an _Idea_ in me, whether the possessing of them
were a perfection or no; and I was sure, that any of those which had any
imperfections were not in him, but that all others were. I saw that
doubtfulness, inconstancy, sorrow and the like, could not be in him,
seeing I could my self have wish'd to have been exempted from them.
Besides this, I had the _Ideas_ of divers sensible and corporeall
things; for although I supposed that I doted, and that all that I saw or
imagined was false; yet could I not deny but that these _Ideas_ were
truly in my thoughts. But because I had most evidently known in my self,
That the understanding Nature is distinct from the corporeall,
considering that all composition witnesseth a dependency, and that
dependency is manifestly a defect, I thence judged that it could not be
a perfection in God to be composed of those two Natures; and that by
consequence he was not so composed. But that if there were any Bodies in
the world, or els any intelligences, or other Natures which were not
wholly perfect, their being must depend from his power in such a manner,
that they could not subsist one moment without him.
Thence I went in search of other Truths; and having proposed _Geometry_
for my object, which I conceived as a continued Body, or a space
indefinitely spred in length, bredth, height or depth, divisible into
divers parts, which might take severall figures and bignesses, and be
moved and transposed every way. For the Geometricians suppose all this
in their object. I past through some of their most simple
demonstrations; and having observed that this great certaintie, which
all the world grants them, is founded only on this, that men evidently
conceived them, following the rule I already mentioned. I observed also
that there was nothing at all in them which ascertain'd me of the
existence of their object. As for example, I well perceive, that
supposing a Triangle, three angles necessarily must be equall to two
right ones: but yet nevertheless I saw nothing which assured me that
there was a Triangle in the world. Whereas returning to examine the
_Idea_ which I had of a perfect Being, _I_ found its existence comprised
in it, in the same manner as it was comprised in that of a Triangle,
where the three angles are equall to two right ones; or in that of a
sphere, where all the parts are equally distant from the center. Or even
yet more evidently, and that by consequence, it is at least as certain
that God, who is that perfect Being, is, or exists, as any demonstration
in Geometry can be.
But that which makes many perswade themselves that there is difficulty
in knowing it, as also to know what their Soul is, 'tis that they never
raise their thoughts beyond sensible things, and that they are so
accustomed to consider nothing but by imagination, which is a particular
manner of thinking on materiall things, that whatsoever is not
imaginable seems to them not intelligible. Which is manifest enough from
this, that even the Philosophers hold for a Maxime in the Schools, That
there is nothing in the understanding which was not first in the sense;
where notwithstanding its certain, that the _Ideas_ of God and of the
Soul never were. And (me thinks) those who use their imagination to
comprehend them, are just as those, who to hear sounds, or smell odours,
would make use of their eys; save that there is yet this difference,
That the sense of seeing assures us no lesse of the truth of its
objects, then those of smelling or hearing do: whereas neither our
imagination, nor our senses, can ever assure us of any thing, if our
understanding intervenes not.
To be short, if there remain any who are not enough perswaded of the
existence of God, and of their soul, from the reasons I have produc'd, I
would have them know, that all other things, whereof perhaps they think
themselves more assured, as to have a body, and that there are Stars,
and an earth, and the like, are less certain. For although we had such a
morall assurance of these things, that without being extravagant we
could not doubt of them. However, unless we be unreasonable when a
metaphysicall certainty is in question, we cannot deny but we have cause
enough not to be wholly confirmed in them, when we consider that in the
same manner we may imagine being asleep, we have other bodies, and that
we see other Stars, and another earth, though there be no such thing.
For how doe we know that those thoughts which we have in our dreams,
are rather false then the others, seeing often they are no less lively
and significant, and let the ablest men study it as long as they please,
I beleeve they can give no sufficient reason to remove this doubt,
unless they presuppose the existence of God. For first of all, that
which I even now took for a rule, to wit, that those things which were
most clearly and distinctly conceived, are all true, is certain, only by
reason, that God is or exists, and that he is a perfect being, and that
all which we have comes from him. Whence it follows, that our Idea's or
notions, being reall things, and which come from God in all wherein they
are clear and distinct, cannot therein be but true. So that if we have
very often any which contain falshood, they cannot be but of such things
which are somewhat confus'd and obscure, because that therein they
signifie nothing to us, that's to say, that they are thus confus'd in us
only, because we are not wholly perfect. And it's evident that there is
no less contrariety that falshood and imperfection should proceed from
God, as such, then there is in this, that truth and falshood proceed
from nothing. But if we know not that whatsoever was true and reall in
us comes from a perfect and infinite being, how clear and distinct
soever our Idea's were, we should have no reason to assure us, that they
had the perfection to be true.
Now after that the knowledge of God, and of the Soul hath rendred us
thus certain of this rule, it's easie to know; that the extravaganceys
which we imagin in our sleep, ought no way to make us doubt of the truth
of those thoughts which we have being awake: For if it should happen,
that even sleeping we should have a very distinct Idea; as for example,
A Geometritian should invent some new demonstration, his sleeping would
not hinder it to be true. And for the most ordinary error of our
dreames, which consists in that they represent unto us severall objects
in the same manner as our exterior senses doe, it matters not though it
give us occasion to mistrust the truth of those Ideas, because that they
may also often enough cozen us when we doe not sleep; As when to those
who have the Jaundies, all they see seems yellow; or, as the Stars or
other bodies at a distance, appear much less then they are. For in fine,
whether we sleep or wake, we ought never to suffer our selves to be
perswaded but by the evidence of our Reason; I say, (which is
observable) Of our Reason, and not of our imagination, or of our senses.
As although we see the Sun most clearly, we are not therefore to judge
him to be of the bigness we see him of; and we may well distinctly
imagine the head of a Lion, set on the body of a Goat, but therefore we
ought not to conclude that there is a _Chimera_ in the world. For reason
doth not dictate to us, that what we see or imagine so, is true: But it
dictates, that all our Idea's or notions ought to have some grounds of
truth; For it were not possible, that God who is all perfect, and all
truth, should have put them in us without that: And because that our
reasonings are never so evident, nor so entire while we sleep, as when
we wake, although sometimes our imaginations be then as much or more
lively and express. It also dictates to us, that our thoughts, seeing
they cannot be all true by reason that we are not wholly perfect; what
they have of truth, ought infallibly to occur in those which we have
being awake, rather then in our dreams. _
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