On the Improvement of the Understanding

Chapter 2

Chapter 24,214 wordsPublic domain

[34] (1) For instance, the man Peter is something real; the true idea of Peter is the reality of Peter represented subjectively, and is in itself something real, and quite distinct from the actual Peter. (2) Now, as this true idea of Peter is in itself something real, and has its own individual existence, it will also be capable of being understood--that is, of being the subject of another idea, which will contain by representation (objective) all that the idea of Peter contains actually (formaliter). (3) And, again, this idea of the idea of Peter has its own individuality, which may become the subject of yet another idea; and so on, indefinitely. (4) This everyone may make trial of for himself, by reflecting that he knows what Peter is, and also knows that he knows, and further knows that he knows that he knows, &c. (34:5) Hence it is plain that, in order to understand the actual Peter, it is not necessary first to understand the idea of Peter, and still less the idea of the idea of Peter. (6) This is the same as saying that, in order to know, there is no need to know that we know, much less to know that we know that we know. (7) This is no more necessary than to know the nature of a circle before knowing the nature of a triangle. [n]. (8) But, with these ideas, the contrary is the case: for, in order to know that I know, I must first know.

[35] (1) Hence it is clear that certainty is nothing else than the subjective essence of a thing: in other words, the mode in which we perceive an actual reality is certainty. (2) Further, it is also evident that, for the certitude of truth, no further sign is necessary beyond the possession of a true idea: for, as I have shown, it is not necessary to know that we know that we know. (3) Hence, again, it is clear that no one can know the nature of the highest certainty, unless he possesses an adequate idea, or the subjective essence of a thing: certainty is identical with such subjective essence.

[36] (1) Thus, as the truth needs no sign--it being to possess the subjective essence of things, or, in other words, the ideas of them, in order that all doubts may be removed--it follows that the true method does not consist in seeking for the signs of truth after the acquisition of the idea, but that the true method teaches us the order in which we should seek for truth itself, [o] or the subjective essences of things, or ideas, for all these expressions are synonymous.

[37] (1) Again, method must necessarily be concerned with reasoning or understanding--I mean, method is not identical with reasoning in the search for causes, still less is it the comprehension of the causes of things: it is the discernment of a true idea, by distinguishing it from other perceptions, and by investigating its nature, in order that we may so train our mind that it may, by a given standard, comprehend whatsoever is intelligible, by laying down certain rules as aids, and by avoiding useless mental exertion.

[38] (1) Whence we may gather that method is nothing else than reflective knowledge, or the idea of an idea; and that as there can be no idea of an idea--unless an idea exists previously,--there can be no method without a pre-existent idea. (2) Therefore, that will be a good method which shows us how the mind should be directed, according to the standard of the given true idea.

(38:3) Again, seeing that the ratio existing between two ideas the same as the ratio between the actual realities corresponding to those ideas, it follows that the reflective knowledge which has for its object the most perfect being is more excellent than reflective knowledge concerning other objects--in other words, that method will be most perfect which affords the standard of the given idea of the most perfect being whereby we may direct our mind.

[39] (1) We thus easily understand how, in proportion as it acquires new ideas, the mind simultaneously acquires fresh instruments for pursuing its inquiries further. (2) For we may gather from what has been said, that a true idea must necessarily first of all exist in us as a natural instrument; and that when this idea is apprehended by the mind, it enables us to understand the difference existing between itself and all other perceptions. (3) In this, one part of the method consists.

(39:4) Now it is clear that the mind apprehends itself better in proportion as it understands a greater number of natural objects; it follows, therefore, that this portion of the method will be more perfect in proportion as the mind attains to the comprehension of a greater number of objects, and that it will be absolutely perfect when the mind gains a knowledge of the absolutely perfect being, or becomes conscious thereof.

[40] (1) Again, the more things the mind knows, the better does it understand its own strength and the order of nature; by increased self-knowledge, it can direct itself more easily, and lay down rules for its own guidance; and, by increased knowledge of nature, it can more easily avoid what is useless. (2) And this is the sum total of method, as we have already stated.

[41] (1) We may add that the idea in the world of thought is in the same case as its correlate in the world of reality. (2) If, therefore, there be anything in nature which is without connection with any other thing, and if we assign to it a subjective essence, which would in every way correspond to the objective reality, the subjective essence would have no connection, [p] with any other ideas--in other words, we could not draw any conclusions with regard to it. (41:3) On the other hand, those things which are connected with others--as all things that exist in nature--will be understood by the mind, and their subjective essences will maintain the same mutual relations as their objective realities--that is to say, we shall infer from these ideas other ideas, which will in turn be connected with others, and thus our instruments for proceeding with our investigation will increase. (4) This is what we were endeavoring to prove.

[42] (1) Further, from what has just been said--namely, that an idea must, in all respects, correspond to its correlate in the world of reality,--it is evident that, in order to reproduce in every respect the faithful image of nature, our mind must deduce all its ideas from the idea which represents the origin and source of the whole of nature, so that it may itself become the source of other ideas.

[43] (1) It may, perhaps, provoke astonishment that, after having said that the good method is that which teaches us to direct our mind according to the standard of the given true idea, we should prove our point by reasoning, which would seem to indicate that it is not self-evident. (2) We may, therefore, be questioned as to the validity of our reasoning. (3) If our reasoning be sound, we must take as a starting-point a true idea. (4) Now, to be certain that our starting-point is really a true idea, we need proof. (5) This first course of reasoning must be supported by a second, the second by a third, and so on to infinity.

[44] (1) To this I make answer that, if by some happy chance anyone had adopted this method in his investigations of nature--that is, if he had acquired new ideas in the proper order, according to the standard of the original true idea, he would never have doubted [q] of the truth of his knowledge, inasmuch as truth, as we have shown, makes itself manifest, and all things would flow, as it were, spontaneously towards him. (44:2) But as this never, or rarely, happens, I have been forced so to arrange my proceedings, that we may acquire by reflection and forethought what we cannot acquire by chance, and that it may at the same time appear that, for proving the truth, and for valid reasoning, we need no other means than the truth and valid reasoning themselves: for by valid reasoning I have established valid reasoning, and, in like measure, I seek still to establish it.

[45] (1) Moreover, this is the order of thinking adopted by men in their inward meditations. (2) The reasons for its rare employment in investigations of nature are to be found in current misconceptions, whereof we shall examine the causes hereafter in our philosophy. (3) Moreover, it demands, as we shall show, a keen and accurate discernment. (4) Lastly, it is hindered by the conditions of human life, which are, as we have already pointed out, extremely changeable. (5) There are also other obstacles, which we will not here inquire into.

[46] (1) If anyone asks why I have not at the starting-point set forth all the truths of nature in their due order, inasmuch as truth is self-evident, I reply by warning him not to reject as false any paradoxes he may find here, but to take the trouble to reflect on the chain of reasoning by which they are supported; he will then be no longer in doubt that we have attained to the truth. (2) This is why I have as above.

[47] (1) If there yet remains some sceptic, who doubts of our primary truth, and of all deductions we make, taking such truth as our standard, he must either be arguing in bad faith, or we must confess that there are men in complete mental blindness either innate or due to misconceptions--that is, to some external influence. (2) Such persons are not conscious of themselves. (3) If they affirm or doubt anything, they know not that they affirm or doubt: they say that they know nothing, and they say that they are ignorant of the very fact of their knowing nothing. (4) Even this they do not affirm absolutely, they are afraid of confessing that they exist, so long as they know nothing; in fact, they ought to remain dumb, for fear of haply supposing which should smack of truth.

[48] (1) Lastly, with such persons, one should not speak of sciences: for, in what relates to life and conduct, they are compelled by necessity to suppose that they exist, and seek their own advantage, and often affirm and deny, even with an oath. (2) If they deny, grant, or gainsay, they know not that they deny, grant, or gainsay, so that they ought to be regarded as automata, utterly devoid of intelligence.

[49] (1) Let us now return to our proposition. (2) Up to the present, we have, first, defined the end to which we desire to direct all our thoughts; secondly, we have determined the mode of perception best adapted to aid us in attaining our perfection; thirdly, we have discovered the way which our mind should take, in order to make a good beginning--namely, that it should use every true idea as a standard in pursuing its inquiries according to fixed rules. (49:3) Now, in order that it may thus proceed, our method must furnish us, first, with a means of distinguishing a true idea from all other perceptions, and enabling the mind to avoid the latter; secondly, with rules for perceiving unknown things according to the standard of the true idea; thirdly, with an order which enables us to avoid useless labor. (49:4) When we became acquainted with this method, we saw that, fourthly, it would be perfect when we had attained to the idea of the absolutely perfect Being. (5) This is an observation which should be made at the outset, in order that we may arrive at the knowledge of such a being more quickly.

[50] (1) Let us then make a beginning with the first part of the method, which is, as we have said, to distinguish and separate the true idea from other perceptions, and to keep the mind from confusing with true ideas those which are false, fictitious, and doubtful. (2) I intend to dwell on this point at length, partly to keep a distinction so necessary before the reader's mind, and also because there are some who doubt of true ideas, through not having attended to the distinction between a true perception and all others. (3) Such persons are like men who, while they are awake, doubt not that they are awake, but afterwards in a dream, as often happens, thinking that they are surely awake, and then finding that they were in error, become doubtful even of being awake. (4) This state of mind arises through neglect of the distinction between sleeping and waking.

[51] (1) Meanwhile, I give warning that I shall not here give essence of every perception, and explain it through its proximate cause. (2) Such work lies in the province of philosophy. (3) I shall confine myself to what concerns method--that is, to the character of fictitious, false and doubtful perceptions, and the means of freeing ourselves therefrom. (4) Let us then first inquire into the nature of a fictitious idea.

[52] (1) Every perception has for its object either a thing considered as existing, or solely the essence of a thing. (2) Now "fiction" is chiefly occupied with things considered as existing. (3) I will, therefore, consider these first--I mean cases where only the existence of an object is feigned, and the thing thus feigned is understood, or assumed to be understood. (4) For instance, I feign that Peter, whom I know to have gone home, is gone to see me, [r] or something of that kind. (5) With what is such an idea concerned? (6) It is concerned with things possible, and not with things necessary or impossible.

[53] (1) I call a thing impossible when its existence would imply a contradiction; necessary, when its non-existence would imply a contradiction; possible, when neither its existence nor its non-existence imply a contradiction, but when the necessity or impossibility of its nature depends on causes unknown to us, while we feign that it exists. (2) If the necessity or impossibility of its existence depending on external causes were known to us, we could not form any fictitious hypotheses about it;

[54] (1) Whence it follows that if there be a God, or omniscient Being, such an one cannot form fictitious hypotheses. (2) For, as regards ourselves, when I know that I exist, [s] I cannot hypothesize that I exist or do not exist, any more than I can hypothesize an elephant that can go through the eye of a needle; nor when I know the nature of God, can I hypothesize that He or does not exist. [t] (54:3) The same thing must be said of the Chimaera, whereof the nature implies a contradiction. (4) From these considerations, it is plain, as I have already stated, that fiction cannot be concerned with eternal truths. [u]

[55] (1) But before proceeding further, I must remark, in passing, that the difference between the essence of one thing and the essence of another thing is the same as that which exists between the reality or existence of one thing and the reality or existence of another; therefore, if we wished to conceive the existence, for example, of Adam, simply by means of existence in general, it would be the same as if, in order to conceive his existence, we went back to the nature of being, so as to define Adam as a being. (2) Thus, the more existence is conceived generally, the more is it conceived confusedly and the more easily can it be ascribed to a given object. (55:3) Contrariwise, the more it is conceived particularly, the more is it understood clearly, and the less liable is it to be ascribed, through negligence of Nature's order, to anything save its proper object. (4) This is worthy of remark.

[56] (1) We now proceed to consider those cases which are commonly called fictions, though we clearly understood that the thing is not as we imagine it. (2) For instance, I know that the earth is round, but nothing prevents my telling people that it is a hemisphere, and that it is like a half apple carved in relief on a dish; or, that the sun moves round the earth, and so on. (56:3) However, examination will show us that there is nothing here inconsistent with what has been said, provided we first admit that we may have made mistakes, and be now conscious of them; and, further, that we can hypothesize, or at least suppose, that others are under the same mistake as ourselves, or can, like us, fall under it. (4) We can, I repeat, thus hypothesize so long as we see no impossibility. (56:5) Thus, when I tell anyone that the earth is not round, &c., I merely recall the error which I perhaps made myself, or which I might have fallen into, and afterwards I hypothesize that the person to whom I tell it, is still, or may still fall under the same mistake. (6) This I say, I can feign so long as I do not perceive any impossibility or necessity; if I truly understood either one or the other I should not be able to feign, and I should be reduced to saying that I had made the attempt.

[57] (1) It remains for us to consider hypotheses made in problems, which sometimes involve impossibilities. (2) For instance, when we say--let us assume that this burning candle is not burning, or, let us assume that it burns in some imaginary space, or where there are no physical objects. (3) Such assumptions are freely made, though the last is clearly seen to be impossible. (4) But, though this be so, there is no fiction in the case. (57:5) For, in the first case, I have merely recalled to memory, [x] another candle not burning, or conceived the candle before me as without a flame, and then I understand as applying to the latter, leaving its flame out of the question, all that I think of the former. (6) In the second case, I have merely to abstract my thoughts from the objects surrounding the candle, for the mind to devote itself to the contemplation of the candle singly looked at in itself only; I can then draw the conclusion that the candle contains in itself no causes for its own destruction, so that if there were no physical objects the candle, and even the flame, would remain unchangeable, and so on. (7) Thus there is here no fiction, but, [y] true and bare assertions.

[58] (1) Let us now pass on to the fictions concerned with essences only, or with some reality or existence simultaneously. (2) Of these we must specially observe that in proportion as the mind's understanding is smaller, and its experience multiplex, so will its power of coining fictions be larger, whereas as its understanding increases, its capacity for entertaining fictitious ideas becomes less. (58:3) For instance, in the same way as we are unable, while we are thinking, to feign that we are thinking or not thinking, so, also, when we know the nature of body we cannot imagine an infinite fly; or, when we know the nature of the soul, [z] we cannot imagine it as square, though anything may be expressed verbally. (4) But, as we said above, the less men know of nature the more easily can they coin fictitious ideas, such as trees speaking, men instantly changed into stones, or into fountains, ghosts appearing in mirrors, something issuing from nothing, even gods changed into beasts and men and infinite other absurdities of the same kind.

[59] (1) Some persons think, perhaps, that fiction is limited by fiction, and not by understanding; in other words, after I have formed some fictitious idea, and have affirmed of my own free will that it exists under a certain form in nature, I am thereby precluded from thinking of it under any other form. (2) For instance, when I have feigned (to repeat their argument) that the nature of body is of a certain kind, and have of my own free will desired to convince myself that it actually exists under this form, I am no longer able to hypothesize that a fly, for example, is infinite; so, when I have hypothesized the essence of the soul, I am not able to think of it as square, &c.

[60] (1) But these arguments demand further inquiry. (2) First, their upholders must either grant or deny that we can understand anything. If they grant it, then necessarily the same must be said of understanding, as is said of fiction. (3) If they deny it, let us, who know that we do know something, see what they mean. (4) They assert that the soul can be conscious of, and perceive in a variety of ways, not itself nor things which exist, but only things which are neither in itself nor anywhere else, in other words, that the soul can, by its unaided power, create sensations or ideas unconnected with things. (5) In fact, they regard the soul as a sort of god. (60:6) Further, they assert that we or our soul have such freedom that we can constrain ourselves, or our soul, or even our soul's freedom. (7) For, after it has formed a fictitious idea, and has given its assent thereto, it cannot think or feign it in any other manner, but is constrained by the first fictitious idea to keep all its other thoughts in harmony therewith. (8) Our opponents are thus driven to admit, in support of their fiction, the absurdities which I have just enumerated; and which are not worthy of rational refutation.

[61] (1) While leaving such persons in their error, we will take care to derive from our argument with them a truth serviceable for our purpose, namely, [61a] that the mind, in paying attention to a thing hypothetical or false, so as to meditate upon it and understand it, and derive the proper conclusions in due order therefrom, will readily discover its falsity; and if the thing hypothetical be in its nature true, and the mind pays attention to it, so as to understand it, and deduce the truths which are derivable from it, the mind will proceed with an uninterrupted series of apt conclusions; in the same way as it would at once discover (as we showed just now) the absurdity of a false hypothesis, and of the conclusions drawn from it.

[62] (1) We need, therefore, be in no fear of forming hypotheses, so long as we have a clear and distinct perception of what is involved. (2) For, if we were to assert, haply, that men are suddenly turned into beasts, the statement would be extremely general, so general that there would be no conception, that is, no idea or connection of subject and predicate, in our mind. (3) If there were such a conception we should at the same time be aware of the means and the causes whereby the event took place. (4) Moreover, we pay no attention to the nature of the subject and the predicate.

[63] (1) Now, if the first idea be not fictitious, and if all the other ideas be deduced therefrom, our hurry to form fictitious ideas will gradually subside. (2) Further, as a fictitious idea cannot be clear and distinct, but is necessarily confused, and as all confusion arises from the fact that the mind has only partial knowledge of a thing either simple or complex, and does not distinguish between the known and the unknown, and, again, that it directs its attention promiscuously to all parts of an object at once without making distinctions, it follows, first, that if the idea be of something very simple, it must necessarily be clear and distinct. (3) For a very simple object cannot be known in part, it must either be known altogether or not at all.

[64] (1) Secondly, it follows that if a complex object be divided by thought into a number of simple component parts, and if each be regarded separately, all confusion will disappear. (2) Thirdly, it follows that fiction cannot be simple, but is made up of the blending of several confused ideas of diverse objects or actions existent in nature, or rather is composed of attention directed to all such ideas at once, [64b] and unaccompanied by any mental assent.

(64:3) Now a fiction that was simple would be clear and distinct, and therefore true, also a fiction composed only of distinct ideas would be clear and distinct, and therefore true. (4) For instance, when we know the nature of the circle and the square, it is impossible for us to blend together these two figures, and to hypothesize a square circle, any more than a square soul, or things of that kind.