{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_31205/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_31205","id":"gutenberg_31205","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/31205","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Philosophy"],"text":"Produced by Alicia Williams and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  +------------------------------------------------------------+\n  | Transcriber's Note                                         |\n  |                                                            |\n  | Obvious typographical errors have been corrected in        |\n  | this text. For a complete list, please see the bottom of   |\n  | this document.                                             |\n  +------------------------------------------------------------+\n\n\n\n\nTHE PHILOSOPHY\n\nOF\n\nSPINOZA\n\n\nEDITED BY\nJOSEPH RATNER\n\n\nTUDOR PUBLISHING COMPANY\n\n_Printed in the United States of America_\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nSelections usually need no justifications. Some justification, however,\nof the treatment accorded Spinoza's _Ethics_ may be necessary in this\nplace. The object in taking the _Ethics_ as much as possible out of the\ngeometrical form, was not to improve upon the author's text; it was to\ngive the lay reader a text of Spinoza he would find pleasanter to read\nand easier to understand. To the practice of popularization, Spinoza,\none may confidently feel, would not be averse. He himself gave a short\npopular statement of his philosophy in the _Political Treatise_.\n\nThe lay reader of philosophy is chiefly, if not wholly, interested in\ngrasping a philosophic point of view. He is not interested in highly\nmeticulous details, and still less is he interested in checking up the\nauthor's statements to see if the author is consistent with himself. He\ntakes such consistency, even if unwarrantedly, for granted. A continuous\nreading of the original _Ethics_, even on a single topic, is impossible.\nThe subject-matter is coherent, but the propositions do not hang\ntogether. By omitting the formal statement of the propositions; by\nomitting many of the demonstrations and almost all cross-references; by\ngrouping related sections of the _Ethics_ (with selections from the\n_Letters_ and the _Improvement of the Understanding_) under sectional\nheadings, the text has been made more continuous. It is the only time,\nprobably, dismembering a treatise actually made it more unified.\n\nIn an Appendix, the sources of the selections from the _Ethics_ are\nsummarily indicated. It would be a meaningless burden on the text to\nmake full acknowledgments in footnotes. For the same reason, there has\nbeen almost no attempt made to show, by means of the conventional\ndevices, the re-arrangements and abridgements that have been made. Every\ncare has been taken not to distort in any way the meaning of the text.\nAnd that is all that is important in a volume of this kind.\n\nWherever possible Spinoza's own chapter headings have been retained; and\nsome of the sectional headings have either been taken from, or have been\nbased upon expressions in the text. It would have been more in keeping\nwith contemporary form to use the title _On Historical Method_ or _The\nNew History_ instead of _Of the Interpretation of Scripture_; a chapter\non _Race Superiority_ would sound more important than one on _The\nVocation of the Hebrews_; but such modernizing changes were not made\nbecause the aim has been to give the reader a text as faithful to the\noriginal as the character of this volume would allow.\n\nThe selections have been taken from Elwes' translation of the _Tractatus\nTheologico-Politicus_, _A Political Treatise_ and the _Improvement of\nthe Understanding_; and from White's translation of the _Ethics_. These\ntranslations are no longer in copyright and hence it was not necessary\nto secure permission from the publishers to use them. Nonetheless,\ngrateful acknowledgment is their just due.\n\nWhite, in his translation, uses, not altogether without reason, the\nstilted term \"affect\" instead of the natural English term \"emotion.\"\n\"Affect\" is closer to the Latin and it more clearly indicates the\nmetaphysical status of the emotions as \"modes\" or \"affectiones\" of\nSubstance. Still, practically no one has followed White in his usage.\nThe reasons are not difficult to discover. Besides being a stilted term,\nhaving no legitimate English status, \"affect\" very often makes the text\nextremely obscure, even unintelligible to one who has no antecedent\nknowledge of it, because besides having also its ordinary English\nmeaning, \"affect\" is used by White to mean \"mode\" or \"modification\"\n(\"affection\") as well. In the circumstances, therefore, I thought it\nadvisable to change \"affect\" to \"emotion\" and \"affection\" to\n\"modification\" or \"mode.\" I also corrected White's translation of the\nDefinition of Attribute by deleting the word \"if.\" In spite of the need\nfor these changes, it was desirable to use White's translation because\nit is the most accurate and elegant extant.\n\nFurthermore, in both White and Elwes I have consistently capitalized the\nterm Nature, in accordance with Spinoza's Latin text; White and Elwes\ncapitalize it only desultorily. I have made some slight changes in\nElwes' mid-Victorian punctuation and White's all-too-faithful\nparagraphing. The Latin paragraphs of the _Ethics_ are extremely long.\nThese changes are all external and as far as I can see thoroughly\nlegitimate as well as justified. The very slight and very occasional\ninternal changes I have made--other than those already accounted for--I\nhave indicated by square brackets.\n\nI am indebted to Mr. Houston Peterson, of Columbia University, for\nsuggesting to me the idea of arranging a volume of selections from\nSpinoza. I am alone responsible, however, for the actual selections and\narrangements, and for the idea of taking the _Ethics_ out of its\ngeometrical form. Professor Morris R. Cohen, of the College of the City\nof New York, read this volume in manuscript; I am indebted to him for\nsome valuable suggestions. I am also indebted very greatly to a friend\n(who prefers not to be acknowledged) for invaluable help in getting the\nmanuscript into shape.\n\nJOSEPH RATNER.\n\n_October, 1926._\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                                     PAGE\nPREFACE                                                 v\nTHE LIFE OF SPINOZA                                    xi\nINTRODUCTION TO THE PHILOSOPHY OF SPINOZA           xxvii\n\n\nFIRST PART\n\nON GOD\n\nCHAPTER\n\n      I. OF SUPERSTITION                                3\n     II. OF THE INTERPRETATION OF SCRIPTURE            11\n    III. OF PROPHETS AND PROPHECY                      36\n     IV. OF THE VOCATION OF THE HEBREWS                64\n      V. OF THE DIVINE LAW                             71\n     VI. OF THE CEREMONIAL LAW                         88\n    VII. OF MIRACLES                                  103\n   VIII. OF THE DIVINE NATURE                         122\n\n\nSECOND PART\n\nON MAN\n\n     IX. THE NATURE AND ORIGIN OF THE HUMAN MIND      155\n      X. THE NATURE AND EXTENT OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE     173\n     XI. DETERMINISM AND MORALS                       191\n    XII. THE ORIGIN AND NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS        211\n   XIII. THE PSYCHOLOGY OF THE EMOTIONS               236\n\n\nTHIRD PART\n\nON MAN'S WELL-BEING\n\n    XIV. OF HUMAN BONDAGE                             251\n     XV. THE FOUNDATIONS OF THE MORAL LIFE            266\n    XVI. OF THE FOUNDATIONS OF A STATE                297\n   XVII. OF SUPREME AUTHORITIES                       314\n  XVIII. FREEDOM OF THOUGHT AND SPEECH                333\n    XIX. OF HUMAN FREEDOM                             345\n     XX. OF HUMAN BLESSEDNESS AND THE ETERNITY\n             OF THE MIND                              361\n\nAPPENDIX                                              377\n\n\n\n\nTHE LIFE OF SPINOZA\n\n\nBaruch de Spinoza was born into the Jewish community of Amsterdam on\nNovember 24, 1632. His parents were Jews who had fled, along with many\nothers, from the vicious intolerance of the Inquisition to the limited\nand hesitant freedom of Holland. At the time Spinoza was born, the\nJewish refugees had already established themselves to a certain extent\nin their new home. They had won, for example, the important right to\nbuild a synagogue. Still, they did not enjoy the complete freedom and\npeace of mind of an independent and securely protected people. Although\none could be a Jew in Amsterdam, one had to be a Jew with considerable\ncircumspection. Whatever might prove in any way offensive to the\npolitical authority had to be scrupulously eschewed. For, as is always\nthe case, minority groups which are simply tolerated have to suffer for\nthe offenses of any of their members. The Jews of Amsterdam thoroughly\nunderstood this. They knew that any significant default on the part of\none member of their community would not, in all likelihood, be\nconsidered by the authorities to be a default of that one person\nalone--a failing quite in the order of human nature; they knew it would\nbe considered a manifestation of an essential vice characteristic of the\nwhole community. And the whole community would have to suffer, in\nconsequence, an exaggerated punishment which the individual delinquent\nhimself may well not merit.\n\nIt was inevitable that the intellectual life of the Jews of Amsterdam\nshould bear the marks of their inner and outer social constraints. Their\nintellectual life was cramped and ineffectual. Indiscriminate erudition,\nnot independent thought, was all the Jewish leaders, connected in one\nway or another with the Synagogue, were able to achieve. It was far\nsafer to cling to the innocuous past than it was to strike out boldly\ninto the future. Any independence of thought that was likely to prove\nsocially dangerous as well as schismatic was promptly suppressed. The\nhumiliation and excommunication (circa 1640) of the indecisive martyr\nUriel da Costa when he ventured to entertain doctrines that were not\northodox, were prompted as much by political as by religious\nconsiderations. It is true, many of the faithful were attracted by\nCabbalistic wonders and the strange hope of being saved from a bitter\nexile by a Messianic Sabbatai Zevi. But these wayward deviations, in\nreality not so very far removed from orthodox tradition, exhibited only\nthe more clearly the fearsome inner insecurity which a strained\nformalism in thought and habit bravely attempted to cover.\n\nIn such social and intellectual atmosphere Spinoza grew up. Of his early\nlife, practically nothing is known. His parents, we know, were at least\nfairly well-to-do, for Spinoza received a good education. And we know\nthat he was, when about fifteen years of age, one of the most brilliant\nand promising of Rabbi Saul Levi Morteira's pupils. Everyone who then\nknew Spinoza expected great things of him. He proved himself to be a\nvery acute rabbinical student; at that early age already somewhat too\ncritical, if anything, to suit the orthodox. But all felt reasonably\nconfident he would become a distinguished Rabbi, and perhaps a great\ncommentator of the Bible. Of course, of the orthodox sort.\n\nBut the Rabbis were early disillusioned. Spinoza soon found the learning\nof the Synagogue insufficient and unsatisfactory. He sought the wisdom\nof secular philosophy and science. But in order to satisfy his\nintellectual desires it was necessary to study Latin. And Latin was not\ntaught in the Synagogue.\n\nAn anonymous German taught Spinoza the rudiments of the language that\nwas to enable him to enter into the important current of modern ideas\nespecially embodied in the philosophy of Descartes. Francis Van den Ende\ngave him a thorough technical, not literary, mastery of it. And Van den\nEnde taught Spinoza much more besides. He acquainted him with the\nliterature of antiquity; he gave him a sound knowledge of the\ncontemporary fundamentals of physiology and physics; and it was he\npossibly, who introduced him to the philosophy of Descartes and the\nlyrical philosophic speculation of Bruno. He did much also (we may\neasily infer) to encourage the independence of mind and the freedom in\nthinking Spinoza had already manifested in no inconsiderable degree. For\nalthough this Van den Ende was a Catholic physician and Latin master by\nprofession, he was a free thinker in spirit and reputation. And if we\nare to believe the horrified public suspicion, he taught a select few of\nhis Latin pupils the grounds of his heterodox belief. As one can easily\nunderstand, to study Latin with Van den Ende was not the most innocent\nthing one could do. Certainly, to become a favorite pupil and assistant\nteacher of Van den Ende's was, socially, decidedly bad. But Spinoza was\nnot deterred by the possible social consequences of his search for\nknowledge and truth. He took full advantage of his opportunities and did\nnot hesitate to follow wherever his master might lead.\n\nVan den Ende was also something of a political adventurer; he finally\npaid the unsuccessful conspirator's price on the gallows in Paris. It is\nnot at all unlikely that Spinoza's hard-headed political and ethical\nrealism was, in significant measure, due to his early intimacy with his\nvariously gifted and interesting Latin master. We know that Spinoza was\nat least strongly attracted, in later life, by the Italian political\ninsurgent Masaniello, for Spinoza drew a portrait of himself in the\nItalian's costume. Machiavelli's influence, too, upon Spinoza was very\ngreat--an influence that would but be a continuation of Van den Ende's.\n\nSpinoza may have been indebted to Van den Ende for one other thing: his\nonly recorded romance. There is some question about this indebtedness\nbecause tradition does not speak very confidently, in some essentials,\nabout Van den Ende's daughter Clara Maria. Clara, tradition is agreed,\nwas intellectually and artistically well endowed, although she was not\nvery good looking. In her father's absence on political affairs she took\nhis place in the school, teaching music as well as Latin. But tradition\nis somewhat disconcerting when it comes to Clara's age when Spinoza\nknew her. According to some chronological researches, the fair object of\nSpinoza's supposed devotion, was only twelve years old. Hardly of an age\nto warrant Spinoza's love, unless he loved her as Dante loved Beatrice.\nA somewhat improbable possibility. The tradition that is less sparing of\nClara's age is, however, even more sparing of her character: the success\nof Spinoza's supposed rival--a fellow-student by name, Kerkrinck--is\nattributed to the seductive powers of a pearl necklace. In spite of the\nfact that tradition reckons this gift to have been of decisive\nimportance, one does not like to believe that a girl of high\nintellectual and artistic ability could be so easily and fatefully\novercome by a mere trinket. Still less does one like to believe that\nSpinoza fell in love with a girl whose mind was so far removed from the\njoys that are eternal and spiritual. But, of course, it is conceivable\nthat the girl took the trinket symbolically; or else that Spinoza, who\nhad given all his time to rabbinical and philosophical studies was, in\nthe circumstances, quite justifiably deceived.\n\nSpinoza had not yet been graduated from his student days when the\nSynagogue thought him a fit object for official censure and threat. It\nseems Spinoza was betrayed into overt indiscretion by two\nfellow-students from the Synagogue, who asked for his opinion regarding\nthe existence of angels, the corporeality of God and the immortality of\nthe soul. Spinoza's answers were not complete, but incomplete as they\nwere, they yet revealed a mind that was, to the faithful, shockingly\nastray from the orthodox path. Spinoza was to have elaborated upon his\nanswers at a later date but the students had heard, apparently, quite\nenough. Instead of returning to Spinoza they went to the authorities of\nthe Synagogue. The authorities were quite disposed by Spinoza's\nassociation with Van den Ende and his perceptible neglect of ceremonial\nobservances, to believe him capable of any intellectual villainy. They\npromptly set about to reclaim the erring soul. Report has it they sought\ntwo means: they offered Spinoza an annuity of 1,000 florins if he would,\nin all overt ways, speech and action, conform to the established\nopinions and customs of the Synagogue; or, if he did not see the wisdom\nand profit of compliance, they threatened to isolate him by\nexcommunication. Again social politics as much as established religion\ndemanded the action the Synagogue took. Their experience with Uriel da\nCosta was still very fresh in their minds and they must have felt fairly\nconfident that Spinoza would be warned by the fate of his heretical\npredecessor if not counseled by the wisdom of the Fathers. But Spinoza\nwas of a firmness they did not reckon on. He did not hearken to their\ncensure nor cower at their threat. The thirty days or so in which he was\ngiven to reform passed without discovering in him any change.\nExcommunication had to be pronounced. When barely twenty-four years old,\nSpinoza found himself cut off from the race of Israel with all the\nprescribed curses of excommunication upon his head.\n\nSpinoza was not present when excommunication was pronounced upon him. He\nhad left Amsterdam to stay with some Collegiant friends on the Ouwerkerk\nroad, for, so one tradition relates, an attempt had been made by one of\nthe over-righteous upon Spinoza's life soon after he became an object\nof official displeasure. Although Spinoza was, throughout his life,\nready to suffer the consequences of his opinions and actions, he at no\ntime had the least aspiration to become a martyr. When Spinoza heard of\nhis excommunication he sent a spirited and unyielding reply. The spirit\nif not the words of that reply (not yet discovered) eventually made its\nway into the _Tractatus Theologico-Politicus_. For the rest of his life,\nwhenever he had occasion to refer to the Jews, Spinoza referred to them\nas he did to the Gentiles--a race to which he did not belong. And\nimmediately, with the perfect grace and humor of a cultured mind, he\nchanged his name from Baruch to Benedict, quite confident one can be as\nblessed in Latin as in Hebrew.\n\nThe subsequent course of Spinoza's life was almost completely\nuntroubled, though it was unmitigatingly austere. He took up the trade\nof polishing lenses as a means of earning his simple bread. He was\nsomewhat influenced in his decision by the advice in the _Ethics of the\nFathers_ that every one should do some manual work. But it was also\nquite the fashion at that period for learned men, interested in science,\nto polish lenses, as a hobby of course, not as a means of support.\nSpinoza's choice was not altogether wise in spite of its learned\nassociations and the fact that he soon gained an enviable reputation as\na young scientist. The early recognition Spinoza received from men like\nHenry Oldenburg, the first secretary of the Royal Society, from Robert\nBoyle and Huyghens, was hardly adequate recompense for the fine dust he\nground which aggravated his inherited tuberculosis and undoubtedly\nconsiderably hastened his death. Spinoza's accomplishment in his chosen\ntrade was not merely practical. Many looked forward, with warranted\nconfidence, to the time when Spinoza would make a distinguished\ncontribution to the science of optics. But the only strictly scientific\nwork Spinoza left behind (long considered to have been lost) was a short\ntreatise on the rainbow.\n\nAll Spinoza's intellectual energy went into service of his philosophy.\nHis earliest philosophical work (rediscovered (1862) in translated Dutch\nmanuscript) was a _Short Treatise on God, Man and His Well-Being_. It is\na fragmentary, uneven work, chiefly valuable for the insight it gives\ninto the workings and development of Spinoza's mind. The _Ethics_, in\nthe completed form in which we have it (no manuscript of it is extant)\nhas the incredible appearance of a system of philosophy sprung\nfull-grown from an unhesitating mind. Even a most cursory reading of the\n_Short Treatise_ completely dispels this preposterous illusion. The\n_Ethics_ was the product of prolonged and critical toil.\n\nBut just how prolonged it is difficult to say. For already as early as\n1665 almost four-fifths of the _Ethics_ seems to have been written. We\nlearn as much from a letter Spinoza wrote to one of his friends\npromising to send him the \"third part\" of his philosophy up to the\neightieth proposition. From the letter it is fairly clear that at that\ntime the _Ethics_ was divided into three, not five, parts. Also, in\nletters written that same year to William Blyenbergh one finds expressed\nsome of the chief conclusions published five years later in the\n_Tractatus Theologico-Politicus_. And Spinoza wrote, at this early\nperiod, not conjecturally or speculatively, but as one writes who knows\nthe firm and tested grounds of his belief. Why the _Ethics_, in final\nform, began to circulate privately only two or three years before\nSpinoza's death, and why his work on _The Improvement of the\nUnderstanding_ and his _Political Treatise_ were left unfinished, must\nremain something of an insoluble philosophico-literary mystery.\n\nThe only book Spinoza published in his own lifetime above his own name\nwas his _Principles of Descartes' Philosophy Geometrically Demonstrated_\nwith an appendix of _Cogitata Metaphysica_ which he had dictated to a\nyouth (one \"Caesarius\") \"to whom (he) did not wish to teach (his) own\nopinions openly.\" Discretion, as he had already learned and later\nformally stated and proved, was not inconsonant with rational valor. The\nonly other book Spinoza published in his lifetime--the _Tractatus\nTheologico-Politicus_--bore on its title page Spinoza's initials only,\nand the name of a fictitious Hamburg publisher. When Spinoza heard, some\ntime later, that a Dutch translation of this work was being prepared, he\nearnestly beseeched his friends to forestall its publication (which they\ndid) because only its Latin dress saved it from being officially\nproscribed. It was then an open secret who the author was. Spinoza's\npersonal rule to incur as little official displeasure as possible made\nhim abandon his final literary project entertained in 1675. When he\nbegan negotiations for the publication of the _Ethics_ a rumor spread\nthat he had in press a book proving that God does not exist. Complaint\nwas lodged with the prince and magistrates. \"The stupid Cartesians,\"\nSpinoza wrote Oldenburg \"being suspected of favoring me, endeavored to\nremove the aspersion by abusing every where my opinions and writings, a\ncourse which they still pursue.\" In the circumstances, Spinoza thought\nit wisest to delay publication till matters would change. But,\napparently, they did not change, or change sufficiently. The _Ethics_\nwas first published about a year after Spinoza's death.\n\nIn spite of the consensus of adverse, and somewhat vicious opinion, the\nauthor of the _Tractatus_ did find favor in the eyes of some. The\nElector Palatine, Karl Ludwig, through his secretary Fabritius, offered\nSpinoza the chair of philosophy at Heidelberg (1673). But Spinoza\ngraciously declined it. Although a more welcome or more honorable\nopportunity to teach could not be conceived, it had never been his\nambition to leave his secluded station in life for one involving public\nobligations. Even in his secluded corner, he found he had aroused more\npublic attention and sentiment than was altogether consonant with the\npeace and retirement he sought. Besides, he did not know how well he\ncould fulfill the desires of the Elector by teaching nothing that would\ntend to discomfit established religion.\n\nSpinoza had, in his young days, learned what extreme dangers one must\nexpect to encounter in a righteous community become inimical. In his\nlast years, he experienced a stern and tragic reminder. Two of Spinoza's\nbest friends, Cornelius and Jan de Witt, who had by a change in\npolitical fortune become the enemies of the people, were brutally\nmurdered (1672). Spinoza for once, when this occurred, lost his\nhabitual philosophic calm. He could restrain neither his tears nor his\nanger. He had to be forcibly prevented from leaving his house to post a\nbill, at the scene of the murder, denouncing the criminal mob. A\nsomewhat similar crisis recurred shortly afterwards when Spinoza\nreturned from a visit to the hostile French camp. The object of his\nmission is not unequivocally known. Some think it was to meet the Prince\nof Conde solely in his private capacity of philosopher. It is certain\nSpinoza was advised the French King would acknowledge a dedicated book\nby means of a pension--an advice Spinoza did not act upon. Others think\nhis mission was political. His reputation as a distinguished man would\nhave made him a very likely ambassador. This conjecture would seem more\nprobable, however, if the de Witts, his intimate friends, had been still\nin political power, instead of in their graves. But whatever Spinoza's\nmission was, when he returned to the Hague, the populace branded him a\nFrench spy. Spinoza's landlord feared his house would be wrecked, by an\ninfuriated mob. This time Spinoza exerted the calming influence. He\nassured Van der Spijck that if any attempt were made on the house he\nwould leave it and face the mob, even if they should deal with him as\nthey did with the unfortunate de Witts. He was a good republican as all\nknew. And those in high political authority knew the purpose of his\njourney. Fortunately, popular suspicion and anger dissipated this time\nwithout a sacrifice. Still, the incident showed quite clearly that\nthough Spinoza did not desire to be a martyr, he was no more afraid to\ndie than he was to live for the principles he had at heart.\n\nSpinoza's character, manifested in his life, has won the high admiration\nof every one not bitterly hostile to him. And even his enemies\nmaintained and justified their hatred only by inventing calumnious\nfalsehoods about him. Unfounded rumors of an evil nature began to\ncirculate during his lifetime, and naturally increased in virulence and\nvolume after his death. At that period in human history, it was\npopularly recognized that nothing good could be true, and nothing vile\ncould be false of an atheist--which was what Spinoza, of course, was\nreputed to be. Oldenburg even, for years unflaggingly profuse in\nexpressions of devoted friendship and humble discipleship, an eager and\nfearless advocate (supposedly) of the truth, a friend who lamented the\nfact that the world was being denied the invaluable products of\nSpinoza's unsurpassed intellect, and who, therefore, constantly urged\nSpinoza, by all the advice of friendship, to publish his work without\ndelay, irrespective of popular prejudice--even Oldenburg began to\nconceive a far from complimentary opinion of Spinoza after the\npublication of the _Tractatus Theologico-Politicus_! So prevalent were\nthe groundless rumors that the Lutheran pastor, Colerus--the source of\nmost of our information--felt obliged in his very quaint summary\nbiography to defend the life and character of Spinoza. To his\neverlasting credit, Colerus did this although he himself heartily\ndetested Spinoza's philosophy which he understood to be abhorrently\nblasphemous and atheistic. Colerus' sources of information were the\nbest: he spoke to all who knew Spinoza at the Hague; and he himself was\nintimate with the Van der Spijcks with whom Spinoza had lived the last\nfive years of his life, and with whom Colerus was now living--in\nSpinoza's very room.\n\nSpinoza's courage and strength of mind are as impressively manifested in\nthe constant daily life he lived as in the few severe crises he\nresolutely faced. For the twenty years of his excommunication he lived\nin comparative retirement, if not isolation. The frugality of his life\nbordered on asceticism. All his free time and energy Spinoza dedicated\nwith unusual single-hearted devotion to the disinterested development of\na philosophy he knew would not be very acceptable to the general or even\nspecial philosophic reader. His mode of life is all the more remarkable\nbecause it was not determined by embittered misanthropy or passionate\nabhorrence of the goods of the world. It was dictated solely by what he\nunderstood to be, in his circumstances, the reasonable life for him.\nAlthough he was an eager correspondent, and had many friends whom he\nvalued above all things that are external to one's own soul, his\ninterest in his own work kept him from carrying on, for any length of\ntime, an active social life. He believed, too, that it is part of the\nwisdom of life to refresh oneself with pleasant food and drink, with\ndelicate perfumes and the soft beauty of growing things, with music and\nthe theater, literature and painting. But his own income was too slender\nto allow him much of these temperate riches of a rational life. And\nalways, rather than exert himself to increase his income, he would\ndecrease his expenditure. Still, he no doubt enjoyed the little he had.\nHe found very palatable, most likely, the simple food he himself\nprepared in later life; and he must have gained additional satisfaction\nfrom the thought that he was, because of his own cooking, living more\nsafely within his means. The pipe he smoked occasionally (let us hope)\nwas fragrant; the pint of wine a month very delectable. For mental\nrecreation he read fairly widely in literature, observed the habits of\ninsects, with the microscope as well as the naked eye. He also sometimes\ndrew ink or charcoal sketches of his visitors and himself. A fairly\nplausible rumor has it that Rembrandt was his teacher. Unfortunately,\nall of Spinoza's sketches were destroyed.\n\nAlthough Spinoza wanted to be independent and self-supporting he was not\nirrationally zealous about it. He did not accept all the financial help\nhis friends were eager to give him, but he did accept some. One of his\nyoung friends, Simon de Vries, before his early death occurred, wanted\nto bequeath all of his estate to Spinoza. But Spinoza persuaded him not\nto deprive his own brother of his natural inheritance. Even the annual\n500 florins de Vries finally left him, Spinoza would not altogether\naccept, offering the plea that so much wealth would surely take his mind\naway from his philosophy. But he would accept 300 florins, a sum he felt\nwould not be burdensome or dangerous to his soul. This annuity he\nregularly received until his death. His friends the de Witts, pensioned\nhim too; the heirs to the estate contested Spinoza's claim, whereupon\nSpinoza promptly withdrew it. This high-minded action corrected their\ncovetousness, and from the de Witts, too, he received financial help\nuntil his death.\n\nSpinoza's relations with the humble folk he stayed with exhibited the\nmodesty and grace of character that endeared him to his intimate\nfriends. When he was tired working in his own room, he would frequently\ncome down to smoke a pipe and chat with his landlady and landlord about\nthe simple affairs that filled their lives. His speech was \"sweet and\neasy;\" his manner of a gentle, noble, beauty. Except for the occasion\nwhen the de Witts were murdered, Spinoza never showed himself either\nunduly merry or unduly sad. If ever he found that his emotions were\nlikely to escape his wise control, he would withdraw until such danger\nhad passed. We find the same characteristics exhibited in Spinoza's\ncorrespondence. Although he found some of his correspondents sometimes\nvery trying, he never failed to be as courteous and considerate as the\ncircumstances would permit. Even when one Lambert de Velthuysen provoked\nhis righteous indignation, Spinoza tempered his caustic reply before\nsending it off.\n\nSpinoza lived the ethics he wrote. As is the _Ethics_, so is his life\npervaded by a simple grandeur. And as he lived, so did he die. He had\nnot been feeling very well, and had sent for his friend and physician\nDr. Ludwig Meyer. A chicken broth was ordered for Spinoza of which he\npartook quite healthily. No one suspected that he was this time fatally\nill. He came down in the morning, and spoke for some time with his\nhosts. But when they returned from a visit that same afternoon (Sunday,\nFeb. 21, 1677) they learned the sad, surprising news that Spinoza had\ngently passed away, the only one by his bedside, his doctor and friend.\n\nSpinoza sought in his lifetime neither riches, nor sensual pleasure, nor\nfame. He wrote and published his books when he could and thought\nadvisable because part of his joy consisted in extending, as he said, a\nhelping hand to others, in bringing them to see and understand things as\nhe did. If they did not see, or obdurately refused to understand, he did\nnot consider it part of his task to overcome them. He was animated by no\nmissionary zeal. He was content to search for the truth and to explain\nwhat he found as best he could. The truth, he devoutly believed, would\nmake us free. But it was truth that we understood, not truth that was\nforced upon us. He was quite satisfied to leave in his desk the\nmanuscript of his _Ethics_. People in his lifetime did not want to\nlisten to him. If ever they did after his death, they were cordially\nwelcome to. In death as in life they would find him faithful to his\nideal.\n\nSpinoza has often been likened to the old Hebrew prophets. He does not,\nit is true, exhort the people to follow in the path of righteousness; it\nis the philosopher's task simply to show the way. But the morality\nSpinoza stands for is the old prophetic morality purified and made\nconsistent with itself. And Spinoza was, in his own time, as the\nprophets were in theirs, a heretic and a rebel, a voice calling in the\nwilderness--a wilderness that was later to become the very citadel of\ncivilization. Excommunicated by the Jews and vilified by the Gentiles\nduring his lifetime, Spinoza has, since his death, been canonized by\nboth alike as the most saintly and exalted of philosophers. Like his\nforerunners of old, Spinoza was a prophet _in_ Israel, _for_ Mankind.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION TO THE PHILOSOPHY OF SPINOZA\n\n\nI\n\nSpinoza's philosophy has suffered not a little from the highly abstruse\nand technical form in which the _Ethics_ is written. Some, who are not\ninured to the hardships of philosophy, quite naturally jump to the\nconclusion that its formidable geometry contains only the most\ninscrutable of philosophic mysteries; and a wise humility persuades them\nto forego the unexampled enlightenment a mastery of the difficulties\nwould yield. Others, who are devoutly wedded to what they consider the\nunreservedly empirical character of modern (that is, true) philosophy,\navoid the _Ethics_ because they are convinced, on general principles,\nthat only a mind hopelessly lost in the dark night of medieval\nspeculation could conceive of philosophy in such ultra-deductive\nfashion. Reason was for so long servile to idle theology, it is not at\nall surprising that a work exemplifying reason to such high degree as\ndoes the _Ethics_, should receive scant respect from intrepid\nempiricists. It is so easy to confuse the rationalizations of reason\nwith the nature of reason itself.\n\nSpinoza did not, however, choose the geometrical order because he\nthought his philosophy too profound for ordinary exposition; nor did he\nchoose it because he was enmeshed in medieval philosophic speculation.\nHe chose it because his fundamental philosophic aim was to establish\nethics on a thoroughly tested, scientific foundation; and geometry, an\nexemplar of all mathematical science, most completely embodied, at that\ntime, the highest scientific ideal. Man, Spinoza held, is a part of\nNature, and Nature is governed by eternal and immutable laws. It must be\njust as possible, therefore, to apply the mathematical method to man, as\nit is to apply it to matter. It must be possible to determine, with the\ncertitude obtainable in the exact sciences, what things are good for man\nand what means he has for attaining them.\n\nSpinoza's belief in the self-sufficing, lawful order of Nature, and the\nadequacy of the natural powers of our mind to understand the mysteries\n(popularly so appraised) of heaven and earth, the singular expository\nstyle of the _Ethics_ emphasizes in unmistakable fashion. Even for our\nunderstanding of God's own nature, Divine Revelation, as commonly\ninterpreted in Spinoza's day and our own, is wholly unnecessary. We need\nonly the revelation afforded by the natural powers of reason operative\nin us. In geometry, we do not blindly accept conclusions on faith, nor\ndo we reject them by authority. We are guided in our discovery of the\ntrue and the false, solely by the light of our natural understanding.\nAnd the truths we discover are not temporary fabrications of the human\nmind, but eternal truths about the nature of things. Perhaps no other\nsingle aspect of Spinoza's philosophy distinguishes Spinoza from the\nmedievalists as thoroughly as does his use of the geometrical order of\nexposition; and no other single aspect, perhaps, justifies as\nthoroughly Spinoza's claim to rank with the moderns if not even the\ncontemporaries.\n\nThe geometer's method of starting with definitions and axioms and\nproceeding from proposition to proposition especially appealed to\nSpinoza, apart from the fact that geometry was an ideal science,\nbecause, for Spinoza, the essence of logical method consists in starting\nout with ideas that are of utter simplicity. Then, if the ideas are\nunderstood at all, they can only be clearly and distinctly understood.\nThe absolutely simple we can either know or not know. We cannot be\nconfused about it. And ideas which are clearly and distinctly understood\nare, according to Spinoza, necessarily true. Such unambiguously simple\nand therefore necessarily true ideas Spinoza believed his definitions\nand axioms expressed. Furthermore, if we gradually build up the body of\nour science by means of our initial simple ideas, justifying ourselves\nat every step by adequate proof, our final result will necessarily be as\nfirmly established and as certainly true as the elementary ideas we\nstarted with. The reliability of this whole procedure more than\ncompensates for its tediousness--a defect Spinoza expressly recognizes.\n\nUnfortunately, however, there are other defects in the geometrical\nmethod when it is applied to philosophy, far more serious than its\ntediousness,--defects, moreover, Spinoza apparently did not recognize.\nEven though the geometrical method is preeminently scientific, it is\nhardly a form suitable for philosophy. The Euclidean geometer can take\nit for granted that the reader understands what a line or plane, a solid\nor an angle is. For formality, a curt definition is sufficient. But the\nphilosopher's fundamental terms and ideas are precisely those in need of\nmost careful and elaborate elucidation--something which cannot be given\nin a formal definition or axiom. Also, in the geometrical form, the\nburden of the author's attention is shifted from the clarification of\nthe propositions to the accurate demonstration of them. Which, in a\nphilosophical treatise, is most unfortunate. For though it is\nundoubtedly highly desirable that the philosopher should observe the\nsame care and precision as the scientist, admitting nothing he cannot\nprove, it is nevertheless just as well for the philosopher to take\nreasonable care that what he is conscientiously proving is understood.\nThat Spinoza did not always take such care but considerably\nover-estimated the self-evidence of his definitions and axioms and the\nsimplicity of many of his important propositions, is an unhappy fact\nconclusively established by the increasing volume of Spinozistic\nliterature.\n\n\nII\n\nHowever, in spite of the difficult, and to the literary repellent form\nof the _Ethics_, the catholicity of Spinoza's influence has been\nextremely remarkable. In time, his influence bids fair to equal in\nrange, if not in gross extent, the as yet unparalleled influence of the\nartist-philosopher Plato. It took about a hundred years for Spinoza to\ncome into something of his own. For the _Ethics_ was condemned with the\n_Tractatus Theologico-Politicus_ as an atheistic and immoral work. Only\nwhen the romantic philosophers of Germany, following the lead of\nLessing and Jacobi, found in Spinoza a man who was, as they thought,\nafter their own heart, did Spinoza's mundane fortune change. As a result\nof their efforts, Spinoza ceased to be a philosopher to be execrated in\npublic (though furtively read in private), and became a philosopher to\nbe eulogized on all occasions in most rhapsodic, if bewildering, terms.\nMany others too, besides professional philosophers, began to read\nSpinoza with much sympathy and unbounded admiration. Goethe, Matthew\nArnold, Heine, George Eliot, Flaubert, Coleridge, and Shelley--to\nmention only a few distinguished lay names--found in Spinoza a powerful,\nstimulating and, in varying degrees, congenial thinker. To-day, after\nhaving been one of the liberating thinkers of mankind who was read but\nnot honored, Spinoza is fast becoming one of the canonized of mankind\nwho are honored but not read.\n\nThe reason for Spinoza's magnificent influence is not difficult to\ndiscover: his philosophy deals in a grand, illuminating way with all\nthat is of profoundest importance in human life. There is no material\nthe universe offers for man's life but Spinoza seeks to understand and\nexplain its rational function and utility. For Spinoza set before\nhimself the hard task of laying down the principles whereby men may\nguide themselves aright in all the affairs of life--the lowest as well\nas the highest. His philosophy, as a result, is at once the most exalted\nand the most matter of fact. There is no high sentiment or glorious\nideal to which Spinoza does not give proper attention and a proper\nplace. And yet he propounds nothing in his ethical theory that cannot\nbe clearly seen by reason and that cannot be fully substantiated by the\nhistory of man. Spinoza's ethics is perfectly balanced, eminently sane.\nAnd there is, pervading it all, a stately sustained resolution of mind,\na royal, often religious spirit and calm.\n\nAnd Spinoza's thought, if not all of his terminology, is refreshingly\nmodern and contemporary. We find in him, as in contemporaries, an utter\nreliance upon the powers of the human mind. All dogmatism, in the\npristine connotation of unexamined adherence to the doctrines of\ntradition, is absent from his thought. Spinoza is thoroughly critical,\nfor only modern philosophic arrogance, in first full bloom in Kant, can\njustly monopolize the term \"critical\" for itself. Naturally, though,\nSpinoza is unfamiliar with the whole apparatus and style of philosophic\nthinking which the last two centuries of excessively disputatious and\nremarkably inconclusive philosophy have created. Spinoza has his own\ntechnical philosophic style, inherited to some extent, but to a much\nlarger extent transformed by him for original use. But technical as his\nstyle may be, it is simplicity itself when compared with the horrific\nstyles which were, until the last few decades, alone thought adequate to\nexpress the profound and esoteric mysteries of modern philosophy. The\nphilosophic jargon of the 18th. and 19th. centuries is now almost\nuniversally discarded, and with it preternaturally recondite and\nineffectual modes of thought. Those who have achieved at least some of\nthe new simplicity in thought and expression are better able than any\nothers to enter into the heart of Spinoza's philosophy, into the open\nsecret of his thought. For apart from the mere stylistic difficulties\nof the _Ethics_ and some detail of his metaphysical doctrine, the few\ngreat and simple ideas which dominate his philosophy are quite easy to\nunderstand--especially if one uses the _Tractatus Theologico-Politicus_\nas an introduction to them. It was an unexpressed maxim with Spinoza\nthat even at the risk of keeping our heads empty it is necessary we keep\nour minds simple and pure.\n\n\nIII\n\nThe central controlling idea of Spinoza's philosophy is that all things\nare necessarily determined in Nature, which he conceives to be an\nabsolutely infinite unified and uniform order. Instead of maintaining\nthat God is like man magnified to infinity, who has absolute,\nirresponsible control of a universe which is external to him--the rather\nrude anthropomorphic account of the ultimate nature of the universe\ncontained in the Bible--Spinoza maintains that God is identical with the\nuniverse and must be and act according to eternal and necessary laws.\nGod is Nature, if we understand by Nature not merely infinite matter and\ninfinite thought,--the two attributes of Nature specifically known to\nus--but infinite other attributes the precise character of which we can\nnever, because of our finitude, comprehend. Within this Being--God,\nNature or Substance (the more technical, philosophic term)--there is no\ndichotomy; and there is outside of it no regulative or coercive\nintelligence such as the Biblical God is conceived to be. Whatever is,\nis one. And it is, in the special Spinozistic sense, supremely perfect\nbecause absolutely real. There is, considered in its totality, no lack\nor defect in Nature. There can be, therefore, no cosmic purposes, for\nsuch purposes would imply that Nature is yet unfinished, or unperfected,\nthat is, not completely real. Something that cannot possibly be true of\nan absolutely infinite Being.\n\nSpinoza's conception of an absolutely infinite universe is a vast\nimprovement upon the pent-in, finite medieval universe inherited from\nAristotle. It exceeds by infinity, in breadth of vision, even our\ncontemporary notion of an infinite physical cosmos. And his conception\nof universal necessity is as great an advance upon the view that\ntransformed natural occurrences into miraculous events. Miracles,\naccording to the Bible, most clearly exemplify God's omnipotence; for\nomnipotence in the popular mind consists in nothing so much as in the\nability to satisfy any purpose or whim no matter how transitory it is,\nor how incompatible with what has been antecedently desired or done.\nMiracles may be extraordinary occurrences with reference to the order of\nNature, but they are, with reference to God, commonplace exhibitions of\nHis Almighty power. For Spinoza, however, miracles, did they actually\noccur, would exhibit not God's power, but His impotence. The omnipotence\nof the one absolutely infinite Being is not shown by temperamental\ninterruptions of the course of events; it is manifested in the immutable\nand necessary laws by which all things come to pass.\n\nSpinoza's conception of the universe, flawlessly operating under\nnecessary laws, effectively disposes of miracles. And to dispose of\nmiracles is one of Spinoza's primary concerns. For as long as miracles\nhappen, organized knowledge and rational control--the bases of a\nrational life--are both impossible for man.\n\nIf events were not absolutely conditioned by the determinate nature of\nthings, instead of science, we should have superstition, and magic\ninstead of scientific control. When a god governs the universe according\nto his transitory and altogether personal whims, or when chance, without\na god, reigns, man is hopelessly at the mercy of the flux of events. In\nthe conduct of his affairs memory is of no use to him, and forethought\nis impossible. In such cases man, as we read in his history, and could\neasily conclude from his nature, piteously grasps for salvation at\nwhatever happens his way. All things are then loaded with ominous powers\nthe strength of which is directly proportionate to the hope or fear that\nenthralls him. If the universe were lawless, the irony of man's fate\nwould forever be what it was when he lived in abysmal ignorance: when in\nbitterest need of sane guidance, he would be most prone to trust to the\nfeeblest and most irrational of aids. On the other hand, if things are\ndetermined by necessity, nothing happening either miraculously or by\nchance, science and a commensurate power of scientific control is\npossible for man. No more important argument could Spinoza conceive in\nfavor of his doctrine.\n\n\nIV\n\nBut the very doctrine which Spinoza placed at the heart of his\nphilosophy because of the inestimable advantages man could derive from\nit, people loudly objected to on the ground that it robbed man's life of\nall moral and religious value. Determinism, they exclaimed, reduces man\nto the rank of inanimate Nature; without \"free-will\" man is no better\nthan a slave, his life doomed by an inexorable fate. True enough,\nnothing is more abhorrent or more deadly to the striving soul of man\nthan to be bound in a fatalistic doctrine. But the anti-determinists\nwildly confuse a perverted determinism of ends with a scientific\ndeterminism of means. And only the former determinism is truly\nfatalistic. This confusion is to be found equally central in Henry\nOldenburg's inconsequential letters to Spinoza and in Bernard Shaw's\nshamelessly silly Preface to _Back to Methuselah_. Fundamental\nconfusions remain astonishingly stable throughout the centuries.\n\nSpinoza, when he maintained that all things are necessarily determined\nby the laws of their own being, certainly did not mean to say that, for\nexample, the toothbrush I shall buy to-morrow will be determined by the\nstellar dust of aeons ago. He did not wish to maintain that the infinite\noccurrences of the past were slowly but persistently moving to that far\nfrom divine or distant event. No aboriginal astronomer royal could have\npredicted the pending purchase merely by exhaustively analyzing the then\nstellar dust. For toothbrushes and their purchase are determined by the\nnature of human beings, not by the nature of embryonic stars. And\nSpinoza's doctrine of necessity maintains that all events are determined\nby their proper causes, not that everything is immediately caused by\nsome antediluvian event. And this is true even though we can start from\nany event in the present, no matter how trivial, and go back to an event\ncausally antecedent, and from that to another, even until we recede into\nthe stellar dust itself. But this only amounts to saying, what is\nundoubtedly true, that neither I nor the toothbrush could now exist if\nthe stellar dust, and the whole series of intervening events, had not\nexisted. But this is totally different from saying that the stellar dust\nexisted that I might exist to-day and buy a toothbrush to-morrow, or,\nwhat equals the same, that I and the toothbrush exist so that the\nstellar dust and the exceedingly long consequence of natural events\nshould have a final purpose, an ultimate end--even if not an ideal\nfulfillment. Now only when causality, as in the latter case, is\nperversely teleological is determinism fatalistic. Fatalism is the\nresult only when the ends of activity are necessarily but arbitrarily\ndetermined. But when causality is not arbitrarily teleological, or when\nonly the natures of things, the instruments or means of activity are\nnecessarily determined, then determinism involves no fatalism at all.\n\nThe only truly fatalistic systems which have had an important influence\nin the history of mankind, have been certain religious systems--the\nChristian religion among them. The energies of western men were, for\nover fourteen centuries, robbed of all vitality and meaning because\nChristian theology irrevocably fixed the end of life, and man could do\nnothing to alter it significantly in any respect. Arbitrary teleological\ndeterminism is, in the Christian religion, the philosophic root of other\nworldliness. And it was no alleviation of the state of affairs that\nmiracles could happen in the realm of Nature, that is, that Nature was\nnot determined, but was undetermined, accidental, or \"free.\" On the\ncontrary, it was a decided aggravation that there existed side by side\nwith a perverse teleological determinism for the other world, an\ninstrumental indeterminism for this world. For the latter served as\neffectively to put the means of man's life, as the former did to put his\nend, out of his present reach and control.\n\nContrast the modern and contemporary Christian period with the medieval\nand pre-medieval Christian period. What a vast difference there is! With\nthe introduction of the modern period man's energies were almost\ninstantaneously liberated. And why? Because of Chancellor Bacon's\ndiscovery of the value of empirical investigation? Hardly. For this\ndiscovery had been made long before Bacon. But it was only after Bacon\nthat the discovery had a great effect because an enormous intellectual\ntransformation had already partly taken place in the time between the\nfirst medieval discovery of the empirical method and Bacon's\nproclamation of it. The enormous change was that determinism had been\ntransferred from ends to means; and indeterminism from means to ends.\nMathematical physics had, as a system for explaining Nature, supplanted\ntheology.\n\nWith scientific determinism firmly established in the realm of Nature\nand arbitrary determinism thoroughly disestablished in the realm of\nends, the two-fold fatality that crushed man with its oppressive power,\nautomatically disappeared. On the one hand, the world ceased to be\nhaunted by demonic powers; it was no longer a miraculous world subject\nconstantly to capricious perturbations. It was no longer a world alien\nto man's nature and it therefore ceased to be sheerly brutal to him. For\nthe world is brutal only as long as we do not understand it. As soon as\nwe do, it ceases to be brutal, and becomes quite human, if not humane.\nKnowledge transmutes a brute existent into a rational instrumentality.\nAnd, on the other hand, man could now espouse any end consonant with his\nnature. He was no longer bound and dwarfed by an alien, superimposed end\nwhich is just as sheerly brutal to man's soul as an alien world is\nsheerly brutal to man's body.\n\nOf course, the ends that are consonant with man's nature are determined\nby his nature, so that it may seem we have not really escaped the\nfatality of \"determinism.\" This is, however, only seemingly so. Because,\naccording to the teleological determinism of Christian theology the ends\nwere fixed independently of the natures that were to fulfill them; just\nas, according to instrumental indeterminism events were caused\nindependently of the natures of the things that caused them. Otherwise\nthere would be nothing miraculous about miracles and nothing virtuous\nabout Calvinism. But if the ends are the ends of our natures,--that is,\nif teleological determinism is not perverse and arbitrary but rational\nand scientific--we are, as Spinoza constantly points out, free. Only\nwhen we are subject to alien ends or the ends of alien natures are we\nenslaved. For freedom is not opposed to necessity or determinism; it is\nonly opposed to an alien necessity or alien determinism. Freedom\nconsists not in absolute indetermination, but in absolute\nself-determination. And self-determination is the very last thing that\ncan be called fatalistic.\n\nBecause Spinoza knew that freedom consists in self-determination he was\nsaved from falling into the absurdities of Rousseau's \"Back to Nature\"\ndoctrine even though Nature is, for Spinoza, the origin of everything\nand its laws, the only laws that are divine. Still, the purpose and\nconduct of man's life, if they are to be rational, must be defined by\nman's nature not by any other nature; if man is to be free, he must be\nguided by the particular laws of his own being, not by the laws of any\nother being least of all by the general laws of so totally dissimilar a\nbeing as absolutely infinite Nature. There is as much sense and\nrationality in exhorting us to go back to the Realm of Nature, as there\nis in exhorting us to go on to the City of God.\n\nThere is, in Spinoza's system, no teleological determinism (in the\nperverted theological usage explained above); but neither is there, in\nSpinoza's system, any \"free-will\" for man. And the hue and cry that is\nalways raised when \"free-will\" is denied, was raised against Spinoza.\nThe clamorous moralists protest that \"free-will\" is the necessary\n(_sic!_) foundation of all morality, and hence of religion. This is the\nstarting point of Bernard Shaw's no less than of Henry Oldenburg's\ninfuriated argument. And, unfortunately, no less a thinker than William\nJames starts from the same misguided assumption. And yet nothing can be\nmore certainly clear than that if man as a matter of fact has no\n\"free-will\" it is the very height of absurdity to maintain that man's\nmorality necessarily depends upon his having \"free-will.\" Something man\ndoes not possess cannot be made any condition, let alone _the_\nindispensable condition of his being able to live a moral life. Man's\nmorality must be based upon his nature; and what his nature is cannot be\nantecedently determined in accordance with the demands of any special\nmoral theory. Moral theory must be based upon man's nature; not man's\nnature upon moral theory.\n\nFar from \"free-will\" being a necessary foundation of morality\n\"free-will\" would make all morality, of the kind we know and the\n\"free-will\"-ists want, absolutely impossible. The central condition of\nmoral life is responsibility. So central is it, that it is now\nacknowledged as such in all the penal codes of civilized countries. But\nif man has, instead of a determinate nature, \"free-will\", responsibility\ncan in no way be fixed. Education, too, is necessarily impossible. Hence\nall punishment would have to be retributive. Moral strife, as well as\nlegal penalties, would bear all the stigmata of unmitigated, imbecilic\ncruelty. This is not the case however if man has an absolutely\ndeterminate nature. Education is possible. And therefore although crime\nloses none of its evil character, punishment can lose all of its inhuman\nsting. The necessary condition of human morality is responsibility not\nirresponsibility; reliability not unreliability; certainty not\nuncertainty; a firm will, not a \"free\" will.\n\n\"Free-will\" is necessary only in theological apologetics. According to\nChristian theology, if man did not have \"free-will\" it would follow that\nGod is the Author of all the evil of the world. Something which is not\nquite in keeping with His perfect goodness. By a queer twist of mind,\ntheologians therefore gave man, and not God (as they should have done)\n\"free-will.\" But they gave man \"free-will\" not to enable him to live\nvirtuously, but to enable him to sin. If man were able to live\nvirtuously as well as sinfully of his own \"free-will\" he would then be\naltogether independent of God, which can in no way be admitted or\nallowed. Hence the bitter and heart-rending cries of orthodox,\nespecially evangelical ministers that if left to themselves they can\nonly sin! They can live virtuously only when they are absolutely coerced\nso to live by God! Their radical inability to understand or believe the\nself-reliant moral person grows from the very heart of their theology.\nFor \"free-will\"--the only freedom they know--is the necessary condition,\nnot of man's morality, but of God's!\n\nThere is no fatalism in Spinoza's system. Fatalism is the moral value of\na theory of the universe. That theory is fatalistic, which makes the\nactivities man cherishes either futile or impossible. Any system that\nputs man at the mercy of the flux of events does precisely this. This is\nnecessarily done by a system according to which the universe does not\nfaithfully observe an immutable order, does not obey certain fixed and\neternal laws. Nothing is as fatal as an accident; no universe as\nfatalistic as an accidental universe.\n\nThere is no fatalism in Spinoza's system because there are no accidents\nin Spinoza's universe. All things are necessarily determined by\nimmutable laws, and man, who is an integral part of the universe, is\nnecessarily without \"free-will.\" In Spinoza's system, ends, being\nundetermined (as contrasted with their being determined in the\ntheological sense explained above) they can exercise no fatalistic\npower; and means, although determined (in the strict scientific sense)\nare similarly impotent because they are, in the life of man, subordinate\nto ends. Consequently, Spinoza was able to write upon Human Freedom with\na truth and clarity and force excelling by far all theological,\nteleological, \"free-will,\" idealistic philosophers from Plato to Josiah\nRoyce. Spinoza was able to write thus because, not in spite of the fact\nthat he placed at the heart of his philosophy the doctrine of necessity;\nbecause, not in spite of the fact that he developed the only complete\nsystem of philosophy strictly consistent with the principles of natural\nscience or mathematical physics. Spinoza is, perhaps, the only\nthoroughly emancipated, the only thoroughly modern and scientific\nphilosopher that ever lived. And he is, much more certainly, the only\nthoroughly emancipated, the only thoroughly modern and scientific\nethicist that ever lived.\n\nTo-day, in view of the extensive dominion and authority of science, the\nobjections against Spinoza's doctrine of necessity can hardly be as\nself-righteous and as loud as they were two centuries ago. The principle\nof the uniformity of Nature has become the established foundation of\nnatural science. And it is also acknowledged, except in the recent ranks\nof superstition, that man is a part of Nature, not independent of it.\n\nMan's connection with Nature is, in Spinoza's system, at least as\nintimate as it is in the latest system of natural science. The original\ndoctrine of the origin of species, Spinoza would have found entirely in\nharmony with his general philosophy, although what he would have thought\nof subsequent evolutionary extravaganzas, it is impossible to say.\nDarwinian biology made man consubstantial with the animal kingdom;\nSpinoza's metaphysics makes man's body consubstantial with the infinite\nattribute of extension or matter, and his mind consubstantial with the\ninfinite attribute of thought which is the mind of Nature or God. Man,\nas a \"mode\" of extension and thought, is necessarily subject to the laws\nof these two attributes of which he is compounded. The fundamental\nrelation of man to the universe, set forth in the Bible, is radically\ntransformed. Man is no longer an only child of God, enjoying his\nprivileges and protection (occasionally tempered by inexperienced\npunishments); he is a mode of two attributes of substance inexorably\ndetermined by their universal, immutable laws.\n\n\nV\n\nOf all the laws of the universe, it was Spinoza's chief object to discover\nthe mental laws. That there were such laws his metaphysics assured him;\nand the existence to-day of a science of psychology substantiates his\nbelief. The most popular of recent psychologies--Freudianism--is based\nupon the principle that nothing whatever happens in the mental life of\nman, waking or asleep, that is not specifically determined by\nascertainable causes. Psychoanalytic therapy would be impossible\notherwise. Psychiatry, too, has conclusively demonstrated that only\nmetaphorically is the subject matter it deals with in the region of the\n\"abnormal.\" Actually, the insane are subject to laws of behavior which can\nbe scientifically studied no less than the sane. They are no more\npossessed of an evil, designing spirit, as our witch-burning ancestors\nconsistently believed, than the ordinary human being is possessed of\n\"free-will.\"\n\nSpinoza's psychology is dialectical. But it is no indictment of his\npsychology to point out that it is. It is true, his formal definition of\nsorrow, for instance, fails supremely to touch the strings of a\nsympathetic heart. But the philosophical psychologist is not a novelist.\nThe recent claim that \"literary psychology\" is the only valid\npsychology, is as well founded as the claim would be that only a\n\"literary physics\" is valid. Mathematical physics gives us no more a\npicture of the actual physical universe than Spinoza's psychology gives\nus a picture of the mental and emotional life of an actual human being.\nBut the failure of these sciences to give us a picture of the living\nworld in no way invalidates their truth, or deprives them of their\nutility.\n\nConsider, as an example, Spinoza's psychological law freely expressed in\nthe dictum that Paul's idea of Peter tells us more about Paul than about\nPeter. This conclusion follows strictly from fundamental principles of\nSpinoza's abstract, dialectical psychology; but its truth or its\npractical applicability is because of that not in the least impaired.\nIndeed, because of its dialectical form its range of meaning is greatly\nincreased. Spinoza's dictum applies to what William James called the\n\"psychologist's fallacy.\" It also applies to what John Ruskin called the\n\"pathetic fallacy.\" Again, it applies to the fallacy Franz Boas exposed\nand which he may justly have called the \"anthropologist's fallacy.\" And\nit applies also to what one may, with a great deal of benefit, dub the\n\"ethicist's fallacy.\" For the very same constitutional weakness of man\nto identify confusedly his own nature with that of the object he is\ncontemplating or studying, is most flagrantly and painfully evident in\nthe fields of theoretical and practical ethics. The \"ethicist's fallacy\"\nis the source of all absolutism in theory, and all intolerance in\npractice.\n\nAll four fallacies just enumerated come under Spinoza's dictum as\nspecial cases come under a general law. And these four are by no means\nthe only instances of the common habit of mind. From no field of human\nendeavor is the mischief-working fallacy ever absent. We find it lodged\nin the judge's decision, the propagandist's program, the historian's\nrecord, the philosopher's system. In the field of metaphysical poetry it\nhas recently been identified by Santayana as \"normal madness.\" In its\nmilder forms, the fallacy is now known by every one as the \"personal\nequation\"; in its pronounced, abnormal manifestations it is known by the\npsychoanalysts as \"transference.\" It is a Protean fallacy woven into the\nemotional texture of the human mind. Nothing, for it, is sacred enough\nto be inviolate. For Spinoza discovered it sanctimoniously enshrined\neven in the Sacred Scriptures. As he brilliantly shows us in the\n_Tractatus Theologico-Politicus_, the prophets' ideas about God tell us\nmore about the prophets than about God.\n\nThe far-reaching significance of Spinoza's propositions is one of their\nmost remarkable characteristics. This is due to the fact, contemporary\nphilological philosophers notwithstanding, that Spinoza defined the\nessence, the generating principle, not the accidental qualities, of the\nhuman mind.\n\nAnother example may not be out of place. Spinoza's proposition that\nanything may be accidentally (in the philosophic sense of \"accident\") a\ncause of pleasure, pain, or desire seems to explain the essence of all\nthe particular variations of the psychological phenomena known now by\nall who have been aroused to the significance of their vagrant cryptic\nslumbers, as the phenomena of symbolism, sublimation, and fetich\nworship. Spinoza's proposition explains all the phenomena adequately\nbecause among the fundamental human emotions, Spinoza like Freud--if we\ndiscount the recent attempt to go beyond the pleasure-principle--reckons\nonly three: desire, pleasure and pain. And with Spinoza, as with the\nFreudians, it sometimes seems that desire is more fundamental than the\nother two, for desire expresses, in Spinoza's terminology, the essence\nof man. Desire however may be stimulated by almost anything. It requires\nthe least sanity of mind, therefore, to prevent one from scandalously\nover-emphasizing one particular class of objects--of desire.\n\nThe striking similarity, if not identity, between Spinoza's\npsychological doctrines and those of contemporaries, serves to give\nconclusive lie to the crass contemporary contention that Truth\ninstinctively shuns the philosophical study, and that she only favors\nthe laboratory or clinic where she freely comes and frankly discloses\nherself to the cold, impersonal embrace of mechanical instruments.\n\nIt is not altogether fortuitously that Spinoza's psychology embraces so\nreadily contemporary psychological conceptions. Spinoza made a\npsychological, if not psychoanalytical, analysis of some portions of\nScripture. And Scripture is a very rich human material. Besides having\nto explain the diverse and conflicting accounts the different Scriptural\nauthors gave of the nature of God, Spinoza had to account for the\nsuperstitious beliefs commonly held by men that are incorporated in the\nBible--the beliefs in omens, devils, angels, miracles, magical rites.\nSpinoza had to account for all these by means of his analysis of human\nnature since he would not grant the existence of supernatural beings and\npowers. Spinoza's psychology adequately performs the task. His\npsychology demonstrates with unsurpassed thoroughness and clarity how\nhuman emotions, when uncontrolled in any way by intelligence, naturally\nattach themselves to all sorts of bizarrely irrelevant and absurd\nthings, and stimulate the imagination to endow these things with all the\nqualities and powers the disturbed hearts of ignorant men desire.\nIgnorant and frustrated man, Spinoza showed, frantically dreams with his\neyes open.\n\n\nVI\n\nSpinoza's method in psychology is dialectical, but his interest is\npractical. His psychology one might almost say is a moral psychology.\nSpinoza wants to explain mental phenomena through their primary causes\nbecause a knowledge of man's nature is the radical cure for his ills.\nThe greatest obstacle man has to contend against is his emotional\nnature. Not that it is inherently degraded or sinful--the grotesque\nsuperstition some religious moralists have maintained; but man's\nemotional nature masters, more often than not, man's rational nature,\nand leads man astray. When the emotions are unrestrained and undirected\nby knowledge and intelligence, they violently attach themselves to\nanything that chances to excite them. Their stark immediacy vitiates\nman's judgment. He is unable, while under their sway, to select and\nfollow the course that is best, because his mind is engulfed in the\nevanescent present. In his hectic desire to gain the passing pleasure,\nman loses his ultimate good.\n\nBut man's salvation, just as much as his damnation, is within his own\ncontrol. Salvation or blessedness is something man can achieve by his\nown efforts; it is not something he can achieve only by Divine Grace.\nFor it is no innate perversion of soul, no inherent wickedness of man,\nno malicious \"free-will\" that causes him to follow the lure of the Devil\nrather than the light of God. The very elements in man's nature which\ncause him to fall are the means by which he can make himself rise. He\ncan pit one emotion against another and the stronger will not merely\nwin, but will win over, the weaker. And it is in the nature of the\nemotions not to have only one satisfying object, but to be able to\nderive satisfaction from almost any object whatsoever. The most\nspiritual forms of human love have the same emotional foundations as the\nmost bestial forms of human lust.\n\nTo learn how to become master of one's emotions, to learn how to free\noneself from their bondage, is, therefore, the primary condition of\nsustained and rational happiness. The key to virtue, Spinoza\nindependently agreed with Socrates, is knowledge of oneself. Only when\nwe understand ourselves can we control our emotions. And only when we\nhave our emotions under control are we able consistently to direct our\nactivity towards a definite, rational goal. Our activity then follows\nfrom our own nature, and not from the nature of external things which\narouse our emotions and determine their strength. And, as already\nnoticed, to be the necessary cause of our own activity is, according to\nSpinoza, to be free.\n\nIt is impossible, of course, for man ever to be the sole cause of his\nactivity. To be such, he would have to be an entirely independent\nbeing--an absolute power--something he can never be. No matter how\neloquently misguided enthusiasts extol the powerful merits of man's\n\"free-will\" it will always be true that man's emotions, sensations and\nideas change very significantly with the organic changes that occur in\nhis body. The emotions, sensations and ideas of a child differ from\nthose of a man, and those of a man in maturity differ from those of a\nman decrepit with old age. And these and similar changes are quite\nbeyond the control of man.\n\nHowever, without denying man's intimate dependence upon Nature, it is\nstill possible to distinguish between those activities which follow, in\nan important degree, from a man's individual nature--whatever it may\nhappen to be at the time--and those activities which follow only from\nhis own nature in conjunction with the nature of other things. The\nmovement of my pen on paper would be impossible without the general\norder of Nature which allows such phenomena as motion, pen and paper, to\nexist. Nevertheless, I can profitably distinguish between the movement\nof my pen on paper and the movement of my body through stellar space.\nThe former movement follows, in an important sense, from my own peculiar\nconstitution; the latter, from the constitution of the stellar system.\nLikewise, but more significantly for human welfare, one can distinguish\nbroadly between the activities and the passivities of the mind; between\nman as an agent, a doer--man's intellect; and man as a patient, a\nsufferer--man's passions. In this creative age such distinction should\nbe singularly easy to draw. In moral terminology one can distinguish\nbetween man as free and man as enslaved.\n\nSince man can never be the sole cause of his activity, he can never be\nwholly free. The range of human power is extremely limited, and Spinoza\nis ever careful to point that out. Spinoza is no incurable optimist, no\nLeibnizian Pangloss who believes this is, for man, the best of all\npossible worlds. To be humanly idealistic it is by no means necessary to\nbe super-humanly utopian. But neither is Spinoza a shallow\nSchopenhauerian pessimist. Spinoza's realistic appraisal of man's\nworldly estate is entirely free from all romantic despair. This world is\nno more the worst than it is the best of all possible worlds for man.\nAlthough man cannot completely alter his evil estate, he can better it.\nAnd the wisdom of philosophy consists in recognizing this fact and\ndiscovering what ways and means there are for bringing such betterment\nabout.\n\nThis Spinoza has in mind throughout the devious courses of his\nphilosophy. It is present to him when he delineates the character of\nNature or God, when he outlines the nature of the mind and its emotions,\nno less than when he specifically addresses himself to the task of\ndescribing the way to the highest blessedness of man. Indeed, so intent\nis Spinoza upon reaching his ethical goal, and making all his doctrines\ncontributory to it, he purposely omits to treat of many philosophical\nproblems because they are, though interesting in themselves, of too\nlittle value for the conduct of man's life. His philosophical system, as\na result, is in many respects merely sketched in massive outline.\n\n\nVII\n\nThe dominant ethics of Christian civilization has made a special point\nof disregarding the intimate connection that exists between human nature\nand rational conduct. Morality has been identified, not with living a\nlife according to a rational plan and an adequate conception of an ideal\nform of human existence, but with a strained attempt to live in\naccordance with an inherited system of coercive social habits. Of this\nmorality, the Puritan is the popular type. Only in quite recent years\nhas some advance been made back to the sane naturalistic conception of\nmorals which is found in the Greeks and also in Spinoza.\n\nIt is a fundamental point with Spinoza that the ceremonial law, as he\nputs it in the _Tractatus Theologico-Politicus_, can at best secure man\nwealth and social position. Man's highest blessedness can be secured by\nthe divine law of Nature alone. Here Spinoza and Rousseau are at one.\nIt was relevant to Spinoza's purpose to treat only of religious\nceremonial law; but his conclusions apply with equal force and relevancy\nto social and political ceremonial law as well. Spinoza's distinction\nbetween ceremonial and divine law is peculiarly significant and\nilluminating when applied to marriage. For to-day in marriage, if\nanywhere, is it glaringly evident that the legal or religious or social\nceremonial law can at best secure man or woman wealth and social\nposition. Happiness or blessedness lie altogether beyond its powerful\nreach. Marriage is sanctified and made blessed not by the ceremonial law\nof priest or city clerk but by the divine law of love. Natural love, or\nlove free from all ceremonial coercions, is not merely not a\nquestionable source of marital happiness: it is the only source. The\nceremonial law, the legal or religious marriage custom, has nothing\nwhatsoever to do with human happiness. If by \"free\" love is meant love\nfree from all legal, social and religious ceremonial restraints, then\nfree love is, according to Spinoza, the only basis of rational marriage.\n\nNo man ever treasured the joys of the spirit more than did Spinoza; but\nhe did not because of that nourish a savage antagonism against the body.\nThe very bases of his philosophy of the mind saved him from any such\ndisastrous folly. What Havelock Ellis says \"We know at last\" Spinoza\nknew all the time--\"that it must be among our chief ethical rules to see\nthat we build the lofty structure of human society on the sure and\nsimple foundations of man's organism.\" It is because Spinoza knew this\nso thoroughly and remembered it so well that he devotes so much of his\nattention to the nature of the human mind and the human emotions in a\ntreatise on ethics.\n\nMind and body are not intrinsically alien or inimical to one another.\nThey are cooeperative expressions of the one reality. The mind is the\nidea of the body and \"in proportion as one body is better adapted than\nanother to do or suffer many things, in the same proportion will the\nmind, at the same time, be better adapted to perceive many things.\"\nPurely psychologically, all that we can ever discover about the\nregulating influence glands have upon personality can only go to\ncorroborate, not to improve this general position. And morally, the\nimplications are equally far-reaching and profound.\n\nThe virtue of the mind is not to despise or reject but to understand and\ntransform. And it clearly must be more excellent for the mind to know\nboth itself and the body than it is for the mind to know itself alone.\nFor natural science is the result when the mind organizes into a system\nwhat are, in their own nature, simply apprehensions of bodily\nexistences; and art is the result when the mind transfuses with an ideal\nquality of its own what are, in their own nature, simply apprehensions\nof bodily excellences of form or motion, color or sound. Matter is, in\nits nature, no more hostile to spirit than body is alien to mind.\nParadise is not a non-or super-physical realm; it is a physical realm\nmade harmonious with the ideality of the soul. Spirit is an\nappreciation, a transmutation of matter. For the lover, the physical\nembrace is a spiritual revelation.\n\nThe fundamental metaphysical law from which Spinoza's ethical system\nflows is that everything endeavors to persist in its own being. This law\nis the metaphysical equivalent of the first law of motion in physics\nwhich is itself the equivalent of the law of identity in logic. By his\nlaw Spinoza does not mean anything which anticipates the\nnineteenth-century doctrine of the competitive struggle for existence.\nOn the contrary, nothing is so clear to Spinoza as the fact that the\nmost efficient way of preserving one's own being is not by competitive\nbut by cooeperative activity. Especially is this true of human beings. By\nhis own efforts a solitary man cannot, even after he has been nursed to\nmaturity, maintain himself in a decent manner. Certainly he is unable\nsuccessfully to resist his foes. But with the aid of his fellows man can\ndevelop a highly complex and tolerably stable civilization, all the\nexcellences of which he can enjoy at the comparatively small risk of\nbecoming a victim of its dangers. Social organization is the natural\nexpression of man's fundamental endeavor to preserve himself. A perfect\nsocial organization naturally expresses the highest form of human\nexistence--individualism without anarchy and communism without\noppression.\n\nConsistent with his primary law of being, Spinoza defines virtue not in\nterms of negations, inhibitions, deficiencies or restraints; virtue he\ndefines in terms of positive human qualities compendiously called human\npower. Virtue is power, however, not in the sense of the Renaissance\nideal of \"manliness\" as we glimpse it, for instance, in Benvenuto\nCellini; nor is it power in the vulgar sense of dominion which seems to\nbe the confused ideal of some ultra-contemporaries; virtue is power in\nthe sense of the Greek ideal that virtue is human excellence. It was\ntherefore very natural for Nietzsche who consciously went back to the\nGreeks to hail Spinoza as his only philosophical forerunner, the only\nphilosopher who dwelt with him on the highest mountain-tops, perilous\nonly for those who are born for the base valleys of life. And it was\nequally natural for Nietzsche to fail to see the important differences\nbetween his own violent and turbid thinking and the sure and disciplined\nthinking of Spinoza--on those very points upon which Nietzsche thought\nthey agreed.\n\nPerfection and imperfection are, in Spinoza's thought, identical with\nthe real and the unreal. The perfect is the completed, the perfected;\nthe imperfect, the uncompleted, the unperfected. These terms have, in\ntheir first intention, no specifically ethical significance. Nature is\nperfect, that is, absolutely real or completed; but in no intelligible\nsense is Nature ethically good. However, it is possible to convert\nnon-ethical into ethical terms. We can do this by designating, for\nexample, a certain type of character as the \"perfect\" type. If we reach\nthat type we are perfect or supremely \"good\"; insofar as we fall short\nof it, we are imperfect, or \"bad.\"\n\nJust what constitutes human excellence is determined in each case by the\nspecific nature and relations of the individual involved. The excellence\nof a child is not that of a man; and the excellence of a free man\ndiffers from that of a slave. For the parent, the perfect child is\ndocile, beautiful and full of promise; for the ruler, the perfect man\nis industrious, respectful of law and order, eager to pay taxes and go\nto war; for the free man, the perfect man is a rational being, living a\nharmonious life in knowledge and love of himself, his neighbor and God.\nMoreover, within any one class the excellences vary in harmony with the\nvariations in the individuals. There is no excellence in general.\n\nBut because ethical standards are quite human and vary, they do not\nlack, therefore, all validity. They are within their range of\napplicability, absolute, even though they are, in a more comprehensive\nuniverse, relative. A just appreciation of the relative nature, but\nabsolute value of specific ethical judgments, is above all things\nvitally necessary in ethics. Such appreciation saves the ethicist from\nthe pernicious fallacy of erecting personal preferences into universal\nlaws; and it also saves him from falling into the ethical abyss where\nall things are of equal value because all things are equally vain.\n\nEthical tolerance is different from ethical sentimentality. Every one\nhas the sovereign natural right to cherish the excellence in harmony\nwith his character. But the equality extends no further. A comprehensive\nestimate of the powers of the mind can be made and they can be arranged\nin a series of increasing value. No arrangement can ever be absolutely\nfinal and authoritative, for what one free man considers the highest\nperfection of human life, another will consider to be only of secondary\nimportance. Still, all free men will agree that certain powers of the\nmind are superior to others. But superiority is not rationally endowed\nwith legislative power over others. The free man is superior to the\nslave, but he has, because of that, no rational right to dominate him;\nneither is it his office to revile or despise him; the slave was given\nhis nature, he did not ask for it.\n\nBut if it is not the office of the free man to dominate or revile the\nslave still less is it the divinely appointed office of the slave to\nrule and revile the free man--universal democratic prejudices\nnotwithstanding. And in support of the independent, and in case of\ncontest, superior right of the free man we have the very highest\nauthority for those who do not trust themselves to be guided by reason.\nGod Himself has pronounced upon this tremendous issue. And not in mere\nwords, but by unmistakable deeds. When Lucifer, the first absolute\ndemocrat or equalitarian, the first one to maintain that no one was\nbetter than he was, raised his impious standard, God assembled all His\nfaithful hosts together and hurled Lucifer out of Heaven into Hell. And\njustly so. For Lucifer had, by his foul, sacrilegious doctrine and\naction, revealed himself to be the Prince of Darkness not the Prince of\nLight. To our untold and everlasting misery the Prince of Darkness who\nfailed to ensnare the majority of angels did succeed in ensnaring the\nmajority of mankind. So irredeemably so, even the sweetly and tenderly\nlyrical Prince of Peace had to be sent to us bearing a ghastly sword.\n\nReason is not, according to Spinoza, a constitutive power in man's life;\nit is a regulative principle. Spinoza is, in the traditional usage of\nthe term, anything but a rationalist in his ethics. Only if rationalism\nconsists in being unflaggingly reasonable is Spinoza an avowed and\nthorough-going rationalist. Reason has, for Spinoza, no transcendental\nstatus or power, and it plays no dictatorial role. Reason, for him, is\nessentially an organizing not a legislative power in man's life. To take\na phrase from Professor Dewey, reason, for Spinoza, is reconstructive\nnot constitutive. The power of the intellect is not some underived,\noriginal, independent power which can impose or, better, superimpose its\ncategorical imperatives upon human conduct. The power of the intellect\nis wholly derivative, dependent upon the nature of the things that it\nunderstands.\n\nReason gives man the power and insight to organize his life on the basis\nof his knowledge, to chose an end harmonious with his nature, what is\nfor his best advantage--the basis of all virtue--and to select and\ncontrol the means by which it can be attained. For the happy governance\nof our lives the object we must chiefly understand is ourselves.\nBecause--in Matthew Arnold's line--\"the aids to noble life are all\nwithin.\" When we become creatures conscious of our natural endowment we\ncease to be blind instruments of our natures and become rational,\nintelligent agents. For intelligence, in the fundamental sense of the\nword, consists in knowing what we are and understanding what we can do.\n\nA man who governs his life according to the dictates of reason tries,\ninsofar as possible, to harmonize his conflicting interests. He\nbalances, impartially, future with present goods, and he bases his\ndecision upon the broad foundation of all his needs. He does not madly\nsatisfy or repress one passion at the expense of the rest of his nature.\nHe satisfies a maximum rather than a minimum of his desires, evaluating\nthem not merely by numerical strength but by quality and duration. It is\nonly stupid and pernicious confusion that makes man's moral problem\nconsist in his discovering instead of a good \"relative\" to his nature,\nan \"absolute\" good, good for no nature at all. Man's real moral problem\nis to secure a permanent good instead of a transitory good; a more\ninclusive good instead of a more restricted good; a higher good instead\nof a lower good. Morally, it matters nothing whether an intellectual\ngood is \"absolute\" or whether it is only \"relative\" to man's mind and\nhis power of comprehension. But it matters everything, morally, whether\nan intellectual good is more or less permanent, more or less inclusive,\nmore or less valuable than a sensory good. This is the real moral\nproblem man is faced with. And this is the moral problem Spinoza\nconsiders and solves.\n\nEverybody knows what is Spinoza's solution. One permanent intellectual\ngood is, according to him, of more importance and value in the life of\nman than countless transitory sensory pleasures. The object most\npermanent in character and greatest in value is Nature or God. The\nhighest virtue of the mind, therefore, the highest blessedness of man,\nconsists in the intellectual love of Nature or God. Thus Spinoza passes\nfrom ethics to religion, which in his thought almost imperceptibly blend\ntogether.\n\n\nVIII\n\nThe beginning and the end, as familiar wisdom has long since propounded,\nare the same. The ultimate origin of man is God, and the final end, the\nblessed crown of life, is to return to God in fullest knowledge and\nlove. The philosopher who was during his lifetime and for over a century\nafter his death constantly execrated for being an atheist (he\noccasionally still is by some hardy fools) made God a more integral part\nof his system than did any one else in the whole history of philosophy.\nSpinoza did not do occasional reverence to God; he did not, in lightly\npassing, perfunctorily bow to Him; God is the veritable beginning and\nend of all his thought.\n\nThe intellectual love of God does not demand as basis a knowledge of the\ncosmic concatenation of things. Omniscience alone could satisfy such a\ndemand. The intellectual love of Nature or God depends solely upon a\nknowledge of the order of Nature, upon a knowledge of the infinite and\neternal essence of God. And such knowledge is within the limits of our\nreach.\n\nWe can apprehend the eternal essence of God because the temporality of\nour thought is accidental to its meaning. It is the nature of reason to\nsee things under the form of eternity. And we can apprehend the infinite\nessence of God or Nature because every particular finite thing is a\ndeterminate expression of the infinite. The law of causality requires\nthat there be an essential identity of nature between cause and effect;\notherwise it would follow that something can be produced from nothing.\nSince cause and effect belong to the same realm of existence, to the\nsame attribute of Nature, whenever we apprehend the essence of a\nparticular thing, we necessarily apprehend the infinite essence of that\nattribute of Nature. For the infinite, with Spinoza, is not so much an\nextent as a quality of being. Thus from the comprehension of any\nparticular thing, we can pass to a comprehension of the infinite and\neternal.\n\nThis is most commonly understood, curiously enough, not in religion, but\nin art. The ecstatic power of beauty makes the soul lose all sense of\ntime and location. And in the specific object the soul sees an infinite\nmeaning. Indeed, one can almost say that the more specific or limited\nthe artistic object, the more clearly is the absolute or infinite\nmeaning portrayed and discerned. A sonnet is oftener than not more\nexpressive than a long poem; the _Red Badge of Courage_ reveals more\nimpressively than does the _Dynasts_ the absolute essential horror of\nwar. There are present, apparently, in the more pronounced mystical\nvisions, characteristics similar to those of significant esthetic\napprehensions. These visions are extremely rare and fleeting. But then\nwe can be at the highest peaks only seldom and for a short while. But in\na moment we see eternity, and in the finite, the infinite. It is for\nthis reason Spinoza says the more we understand particular things the\nmore do we understand God.\n\nThe great religious significance of Spinoza's doctrine of the\nintellectual love of God is that it establishes religion upon knowledge\nand not upon ignorance. The virtue of the mind is clearly and distinctly\nto understand, not ignorantly to believe. There is no conflict between\nscience and religion; religion is based upon science. There is a\nconflict only between science and superstition. Mysteries, unknown and\nunknowable powers, miracles, magical rites and prayerful incantations\nare instruments not of religion but of superstition which has its\norigin in ignorant and ignominious fear.\n\nThe free man does not fear and he is not consumed by fear's boundless\nconceit. He has no apprehensive conscience which unceasingly interprets\nall unusual or untoward events as being deliberate signs of a god's\nimpending wrath. The free man knows that man is, cosmically considered,\nimpressively insignificant. Human loves and hatreds, human joys and\nsorrows are, in the face of the eternal and infinite, the littlest of\nlittle things. Human nature is only an infinitely small part of\nabsolutely infinite Nature; human life only a very tiny expression of\ninfinite life. Inordinate conceit alone could conceive Nature to have\nbeen made designedly either for our pleasure or our discomfort. The\nstars were not hung in the heavens so that we may steer our petty\ncourses across the seas; nor were the sun and moon put in their places\nso that we may have the day in which to waste ourselves in futile labors\nand the night to spend in ignorant sleep. Even if there were a cosmic\ndrama--which there is not--man is too trivial to play in it a leading\nrole. The free man knows all this; but his heart is tempered and strong.\nHe can contemplate his place in the universe without bitterness and\nwithout fear. For the free man's love, as his worship, flows from his\nknowledge of God.\n\n\nIX\n\nSpinoza is unsparing in his criticisms of the superstitions which are\nin, and which have grown up around, the Bible. All Spinoza's major\nconclusions have been embodied directly or indirectly in what is now\nknown as \"the higher criticism\" of the Bible, which is the basis of the\nModernist movement. It was Spinoza who established the fact that the\nPentateuch is not, as it is reputed to be, the work of Moses. It was\nSpinoza, also, who first convincingly showed that other of the\nScriptural documents were compiled by various unacknowledged scribes;\nnot by the authors canonized by orthodoxy, Jewish or Gentile. The wealth\nof philological and historical material at the disposal of the\ncontemporary Biblical investigator is incomparably richer than it was at\nSpinoza's time. But modern scholarship has only added more\nmaterial--only extended in breadth Spinoza's modest researches. In\ndepth, nothing new has been achieved. The principles of investigation\nand interpretation, and the general results Spinoza arrived at have not\nbeen improved upon in the least, nor is it at all likely that they ever\nwill. Spinoza founded himself upon bed-rock.\n\nSpinoza's aim in revealing the defectiveness of the Bible was not\ntheological but philosophical. Orthodox Biblical conceptions had in his\nday, as they still have to a certain extent in ours, a peculiarly\nsanctified power, because they were institutionalized and made the basis\nof an authoritative system of conduct. The misbegotten doctrines\ntherefore could not be questioned with impunity, for a criticism of the\ndoctrines on intellectual grounds was invariably construed as an attack\nupon the vested customs. The misfortunes of history made dissent from\npalpable absurdities capital heresy. Social and religious bigotry burned\nscientific men with political ardor.\n\nHowever, although Spinoza suffered in his own person from religious\npersecution, he never for one moment held as did, for example, Voltaire,\nthat the Church is the wily and unregenerate instrument of vicious\npriests. On the contrary, Spinoza was quite sure that many of the clergy\nwere among the noblest of men, and that the Church was in large measure\na very salutary institution for the masses who cannot learn to govern\nthemselves by force of mind. But Spinoza was unalterably opposed to any\nencroachment of Church authority upon the just liberties of men.\nEspecially did he object to the Church extending its prohibitive power\nover men's thinking. It is the business of the Church to inculcate\n\"obedience\" in the masses; not to dictate to philosophers what is the\ntruth. The fundamental purpose of Spinoza's attack upon the Bible is to\nfree philosophy from theology; not to destroy the Church but to\ndisestablish it.\n\nMany readers of Spinoza conclude that because Spinoza tolerated Church\nauthority in matters of public morality he therefore either did not in\nhis own thought thoroughly adhere to his principles or else he was\nexcessively cautious, even timid, and did not fully or consistently\nexpress his mind. No one would deny that there is some accommodation in\nSpinoza's language. He certainly followed the practical wisdom of the\nthinkers of his day. Even so, however, Spinoza was by no means as\ncautious as was Descartes. Anyway, accommodation does not fully account\nfor Spinoza's attitude on this question; in fact, it does not account\nfor any significant feature of it.\n\nSpinoza never believed a sound metaphysics was, for the masses, the\nindispensable basis of a good moral life. The multitude, he was firmly\nconvinced, are controlled by their passions and desires, not by\nknowledge and reason. The coercive law of the State and Nature, not\nphilosophy, keep them living within the bounds necessary for social\norder and human well-being. Far from it being necessary to tell the\nmasses only the truth Spinoza believed, as did Plato before him, that it\nmay even be necessary in order to rule the masses successfully in the\nways of wisdom and virtue to deceive them to a greater or lesser extent.\nSuch deception is, as a political expediency, morally justified, for the\nrulers would be lying in the interests of virtue and truth.\n\nSpinoza did not suffer from the fond contemporary delusion that the\nsalvation of mankind will come about when philosophers become like all\nother people. He knew, as Plato did, that the day of ultimate, universal\nhappiness will dawn rather when all other people become like\nphilosophers. In the meantime, it is the height of moral and political\nfolly to act as if that day had arrived or else could be ushered in by\nmorning. Spinoza had nothing but contempt for facile-tongued,\nfeather-brained Utopians. He loved humanity too sincerely to mislead\nhumanity or himself that way. And so we find in Spinoza's _Ethics_ as in\nhis _Tractatus_ two systems of morals--one for the many who are called,\nand one for the few who are chosen. In the _Tractatus_, the religion of\nthe many is summarily called \"obedience\"; in the _Ethics_ it is more\nfully shown to consist of utilitarianism in the conduct of our affairs,\nhigh-mindedness towards our fellows, and piety towards Nature or God. To\nthis is added, as the rare religion of the few, what is designated in\nboth treatises alike as the intellectual love of Nature or God.\n\n\nX\n\nSpinoza's religion is as naturalistic as his ethics. By making God and\nNature equivalent terms Spinoza was not merely resorting to equivocation\nto escape the penalty of his views. The identification of God and Nature\nfully embodies Spinoza's doctrine that there is no supernatural realm;\nand therefore if man is to have a God at all, Nature must be that God.\nTo contend, as so many do, that \"true religion\" must be based upon the\nexistence of a supernatural realm, no matter whether or not such a realm\nexists, is as absurd as to contend that \"true morality\" must be based\nupon man's \"free-will\" no matter whether or not man has \"free-will.\"\nSpinoza's system has been called pantheistic. But it is pantheistic only\nin the sense that whatever man considers Godlike must be found in\nNature, for no other realm exists, and there are no gods.\n\nBut the question is always raised, how is it possible to love a Being\nindifferent to our human miseries and blind to our hopes? How is even an\nintellectual love of such a Being possible? Man, as his religions show,\nwants God to be a father, a protector, One who cherishes man's desires\nand cares for his wants. The least anthropomorphic of religions wants\nGod to be the depository of abstract human ideals. But Spinoza's God is\nnot even as human as this. Nature does not constitute the ideal type for\nman.\n\nReligion is, it is true, man's search for comfort and security in an\nalien and hostile world. The simple demand of the human heart is to be\nrecognized and to be loved. Love is the magic touch that transforms all\nthat is barren and cold into all that is rich and warm and fruitful. But\nman is neither loved nor recognized by the immensities of the universe.\nAnd in face of the illimitable stretches of time and space even the\nstoutest heart involuntarily quakes. We cannot consider the vast power\nof the universe without feeling crushed and becoming despondent. And\nignorant man cannot see in the finite things about him the full\nexpression of the infinite beyond. He cannot derive any moral strength\nor comfort from the world about him because he conceives that world to\nbe an implacable instrument of a god's uncertain, inexplicable will. He\ntherefore cosmically projects, in a frenzy of despair, his crying human\ndemand. And out of the wastes of space there arises for him a personal\nGod.\n\nAnthropomorphic religions reveal man at his weakest, not at his best.\nMan's true grandeur is shown when he transcends by his own power of mind\nhis insistent human desires. He can then stand free before the Almighty.\nHe may tremble, but he is not afraid. For his strength of soul is\ngrounded not in the external world but in his own ideal. If we are born\nunder a lucky star, and are fortunate and happy lovers of the ideal, the\necstasy of the mystic's beatific vision is ours. But even if we are born\nunder an unlucky star, and are misfortunate and unhappy lovers of the\nideal, we still have the ideal to which we can hold fast and save\nourselves from being shattered in our despairs, from dying in spirit,\nwhich is far more terrible than any death in the body could possibly be.\nWe have the ideal to give us the strength, if we are lovers of God, to\ngo to the cross with Jesus; or, if we are lovers of Virtue, to drink the\nhemlock with Socrates.\n\nThe intellectual love of God is a devotion purged of all fear, of all\nvain regrets and even vainer hopes. The wild and angry emotions of\nsorrow and pain leave the strong and noble heart of man like the tidal\nwaves leave the scattered rocks of the shore. As the rocks, when the\nwaves return to their depths, smile securely in the glistening sun in\nthe sky, so does the brave, free heart of man, when the passionate\ndeluge is spent, smile serenely in the face of God. The free man is born\nneither to weep nor to laugh but to view with calm and steadfast mind\nthe eternal nature of things.\n\nTo know the eternal is the immortality we enjoy. But to know the eternal\nwe must forget about ourselves. We must cease to be consumed by a\ncancerous anxiety to endure in time and be permanent in space. In the\norder of Nature our own particular lives are of no especial importance.\nAnd unless we recognize this, we are necessarily doomed to a miserable\nfate. We must recognize that our mere selves can never give us ultimate\nfulfillment or blessedness of soul. Only by losing ourselves in Nature\nor God can we escape the wretchedness of finitude and find the final\ncompletion and salvation of our lives. This, the free man understands.\nHe knows how insignificant he is in the order of Nature. But he also\nknows that if only he can lose himself in Nature or God then, in his own\ninsignificant particularity, the eternal and infinite order of Nature\ncan be displayed. For in the finite is the infinite expressed, and in\nthe temporal, the eternal.\n\nIt is this knowledge that makes man free, that breaks the finite fetters\nfrom his soul enabling him to embrace the infinite and to possess\neternity. Once man is reconciled to the petty worth of his own person,\nhe assumes some of the majestic worth of the universe. And the austere\nsublimity of soul that inscribes on the grave of the beloved _God is\nLove_, inscribes, when it is chastened and purified by understanding, on\nthe grave of all that is merely human _Nature is Great_. Religion is the\njoy and peace and strength that is all understanding.\n\nJOSEPH RATNER.\n\n\n\n\nFIRST PART\n\nON GOD\n\n\n_The multitude, ever prone to superstition, and caring more for the\nshreds of antiquity than for eternal truths, pays homage to the Books of\nthe Bible, rather than to the Word of God._\n\nSPINOZA.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nOF SUPERSTITION[1]\n\n\nMen would never be superstitious, if they could govern all their\ncircumstances by set rules, or if they were always favored by fortune:\nbut being frequently driven into straits where rules are useless, and\nbeing often kept fluctuating pitiably between hope and fear by the\nuncertainty of fortune's greedily coveted favors, they are consequently,\nfor the most part, very prone to credulity. The human mind is readily\nswayed this way or that in times of doubt, especially when hope and fear\nare struggling for the mastery, though usually it is boastful,\nover-confident, and vain.\n\nThis as a general fact I suppose every one knows, though few, I believe,\nknow their own nature; no one can have lived in the world without\nobserving that most people, when in prosperity, are so over-brimming\nwith wisdom (however inexperienced they may be), that they take every\noffer of advice as a personal insult, whereas in adversity they know not\nwhere to turn, but beg and pray for counsel from every passer-by. No\nplan is then too futile, too absurd, or too fatuous for their adoption;\nthe most frivolous causes will raise them to hope, or plunge them into\ndespair--if anything happens during their fright which reminds them of\nsome past good or ill, they think it portends a happy or unhappy issue,\nand therefore (though it may have proved abortive a hundred times\nbefore) style it a lucky or unlucky omen. Anything which excites their\nastonishment they believe to be a portent signifying the anger of the\ngods or of the Supreme Being, and, mistaking superstition for religion,\naccount it impious not to avert the evil with prayer and sacrifice.\nSigns and wonders of this sort they conjure up perpetually, till one\nmight think Nature as mad as themselves, they interpret her so\nfantastically.\n\nThus it is brought prominently before us, that superstition's chief\nvictims are those persons who greedily covet temporal advantages; they\nit is, who (especially when they are in danger, and cannot help\nthemselves) are wont with prayers and womanish tears to implore help\nfrom God: upbraiding reason as blind, because she cannot show a sure\npath to the shadows they pursue, and rejecting human wisdom as vain; but\nbelieving the phantoms of imagination, dreams, and other childish\nabsurdities, to be the very oracles of Heaven. As though God has turned\naway from the wise, and written His decrees, not in the mind of man but\nin the entrails of beasts, or left them to be proclaimed by the\ninspiration and instinct of fools, madmen, and birds. Such is the\nunreason to which terror can drive mankind!\n\nSuperstition, then, is engendered, preserved, and fostered by fear. If\nany one desire an example, let him take Alexander, who only began\nsuperstitiously to seek guidance from seers, when he first learned to\nfear fortune in the passes of Sysis (Curtius v. 4); whereas after he had\nconquered Darius he consulted prophets no more, till a second time\nfrightened by reverses. When the Scythians were provoking a battle, the\nBactrians had deserted, and he himself was lying sick of his wounds, \"he\nonce more turned to superstition, the mockery of human wisdom, and bade\nAristander, to whom he confided his credulity, inquire the issue of\naffairs with sacrificed victims.\" Very numerous examples of a like\nnature might be cited, clearly showing the fact, that only while under\nthe dominion of fear do men fall a prey to superstition; that all the\nportents ever invested with the reverence of misguided religion are mere\nphantoms of dejected and fearful minds; and lastly that prophets have\nmost power among the people, and are most formidable to rulers,\nprecisely at those times when the state is in most peril. I think this\nis sufficiently plain to all, and will therefore say no more on the\nsubject.\n\nThe origin of superstition above given affords us a clear reason for the\nfact, that it comes to all men naturally, though some refer its rise to\na dim notion of God, universal to mankind, and also tends to show, that\nit is no less inconsistent and variable than other mental hallucinations\nand emotional impulses, and further that it can only be maintained by\nhope, hatred, anger, and deceit; since it springs, not from reason, but\nsolely from the more powerful phases of emotion. Furthermore, we may\nreadily understand how difficult it is to maintain in the same course\nmen prone to every form of credulity. For, as the mass of mankind\nremains always at about the same pitch of misery, it never assents long\nto any one remedy, but is always best pleased by a novelty which has yet\nproved illusive.\n\nThis element of inconsistency has been the cause of many terrible wars\nand revolutions; for, as Curtius well says (lib. iv. chap. 10): \"The mob\nhas no ruler more potent than superstition,\" and is easily led, on the\nplea of religion, at one moment to adore its kings as gods, and anon to\nexecrate and abjure them as humanity's common bane. Immense pains have\ntherefore been taken to counteract this evil by investing religion,\nwhether true or false, with such pomp and ceremony, that it may rise\nsuperior to every shock, and be always observed with studious reverence\nby the whole people--a system which has been brought to great perfection\nby the Turks, for they consider even controversy impious, and so clog\nmen's minds with dogmatic formulas, that they leave no room for sound\nreason, not even enough to doubt with.\n\nBut if, in despotic statecraft, the supreme and essential mystery be to\nhoodwink the subjects, and to mask the fear, which keeps them down, with\nthe specious garb of religion, so that men may fight as bravely for\nslavery as for safety, and count it not shame but highest honor to risk\ntheir blood and their lives for the vainglory of a tyrant; yet in a free\nstate no more mischievous expedient could be planned or attempted.\nWholly repugnant to the general freedom are such devices as enthralling\nmen's minds with prejudices, forcing their judgment, or employing any of\nthe weapons of quasi-religious sedition; indeed, such seditions only\nspring up, when law enters the domain of speculative thought, and\nopinions are put on trial and condemned on the same footing as crimes,\nwhile those who defend and follow them are sacrificed, not to public\nsafety, but to their opponents' hatred and cruelty. If deeds only could\nbe made the grounds of criminal charges, and words were always allowed\nto pass free, such seditions would be divested of every semblance of\njustification, and would be separated from mere controversies by a hard\nand fast line.\n\nNow seeing that we have the rare happiness of living in a republic,\nwhere every one's judgment is free and unshackled, where each may\nworship God as his conscience dictates, and where freedom is esteemed\nbefore all things dear and precious, I have believed that I should be\nundertaking no ungrateful or unprofitable task, in demonstrating that\nnot only can such freedom be granted without prejudice to the public\npeace, but also, that without such freedom, piety cannot flourish nor\nthe public peace be secure....\n\nI have often wondered that persons who make a boast of professing the\nChristian religion, namely, love, joy, peace, temperance, and charity to\nall men, should quarrel with such rancorous animosity, and display daily\ntowards one another such bitter hatred, that this, rather than the\nvirtues they claim, is the readiest criterion of their faith. Matters\nhave long since come to such a pass that one can only pronounce a man\nChristian, Turk, Jew, or Heathen, by his general appearance and attire,\nby his frequenting this or that place of worship, or employing the\nphraseology of a particular sect--as for manner of life, it is in all\ncases the same. Inquiry into the cause of this anomaly leads me\nunhesitatingly to ascribe it to the fact, that the ministries of the\nChurch are regarded by the masses merely as dignities, her offices as\nposts of emolument--in short, popular religion may be summed up as a\nrespect for ecclesiastics. The spread of this misconception inflamed\nevery worthless fellow with an intense desire to enter holy orders, and\nthus the love of diffusing God's religion degenerated into sordid\navarice and ambition. Every church became a theater, where orators,\ninstead of church teachers harangued, caring not to instruct the people,\nbut striving to attract admiration, to bring opponents to public scorn,\nand to preach only novelties and paradoxes, such as would tickle the\nears of their congregation. This state of things necessarily stirred up\nan amount of controversy, envy, and hatred, which no lapse of time could\nappease; so that we can scarcely wonder that of the old religion nothing\nsurvives but its outward forms (even these, in the mouth of the\nmultitude, seem rather adulation than adoration of the Deity), and that\nfaith has become a mere compound of credulity and prejudices--aye,\nprejudices too, which degrade man from rational being to beast, which\ncompletely stifle the power of judgment between true and false, which\nseem, in fact, carefully fostered for the purpose of extinguishing the\nlast spark of reason! Piety, great God! and religion are become a tissue\nof ridiculous mysteries; men, who flatly despise reason, who reject and\nturn away from understanding as naturally corrupt, these, I say, these\nof all men, are thought, Oh lie most horrible! to possess light from on\nHigh. Verily, if they had but one spark of light from on High, they\nwould not insolently rave, but would learn to worship God more wisely,\nand would be as marked among their fellows for mercy as they now are for\nmalice; if they were concerned for their opponents' souls, instead of\nfor their own reputations, they would no longer fiercely persecute, but\nrather be filled with pity and compassion.\n\nFurthermore, if any Divine light were in them, it would appear from\ntheir doctrine. I grant that they are never tired of professing their\nwonder at the profound mysteries of Holy Writ; still I cannot discover\nthat they teach anything but speculation of Platonists and\nAristotelians, to which (in order to save their credit of Christianity)\nthey have made Holy Writ conform; not content to rave with the Greeks\nthemselves, they want to make the prophets rave also; showing\nconclusively, that never even in sleep have they caught a glimpse of\nScripture's Divine nature. The very vehemence of their admiration for\nthe mysteries plainly attests, that their belief in the Bible is a\nformal assent rather than a living faith: and the fact is made still\nmore apparent by their laying down beforehand, as a foundation for the\nstudy and true interpretation of Scripture, the principle that it is in\nevery passage true and divine. Such a doctrine should be reached only\nafter strict scrutiny and thorough comprehension of the Sacred Books\n(which would teach it much better, for they stand in need of no human\nfictions), and not be set up on the threshold, as it were, of inquiry.\n\nAs I pondered over the facts that the light of reason is not only\ndespised, but by many even execrated as a source of impiety, that human\ncommentaries are accepted as divine records, and that credulity is\nextolled as faith; as I marked the fierce controversies of philosophers\nraging in Church and State, the source of bitter hatred and dissension,\nthe ready instruments of sedition and other ills innumerable, I\ndetermined to examine the Bible afresh in a careful, impartial, and\nunfettered spirit, making no assumptions concerning it, and attributing\nto it no doctrines, which I do not find clearly therein set down....\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] From the Preface to the _Tractatus Theologico-Politicus_.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nOF THE INTERPRETATION OF SCRIPTURE[2]\n\n\nWhen people declare, as all are ready to do, that the Bible is the Word\nof God teaching men true blessedness and the way of salvation, they\nevidently do not mean what they say; for the masses take no pains at all\nto live according to Scripture, and we see most people endeavoring to\nhawk about their own commentaries as the word of God, and giving their\nbest efforts, under the guise of religion, to compelling others to think\nas they do: we generally see, I say, theologians anxious to learn how to\nwring their inventions and sayings out of the sacred text, and to\nfortify them with Divine authority. Such persons never display less\nscruple and more zeal than when they are interpreting Scripture or the\nmind of the Holy Ghost; if we ever see them perturbed, it is not that\nthey fear to attribute some error to the Holy Spirit, and to stray from\nthe right path, but that they are afraid to be convicted of error by\nothers, and thus to overthrow and bring into contempt their own\nauthority. But if men really believe what they verbally testify of\nScripture, they would adopt quite a different plan of life: their minds\nwould not be agitated by so many contentions, nor so many hatreds, and\nthey would cease to be excited by such a blind and rash passion for\ninterpreting the sacred writings, and excogitating novelties in\nreligion. On the contrary, they would not dare to adopt, as the teaching\nof Scripture, anything which they could not plainly deduce therefrom:\nlastly, these sacrilegious persons who have dared, in several passages,\nto interpolate the Bible, would have shrunk from so great a crime, and\nwould have stayed their sacrilegious hands.\n\nAmbition and unscrupulousness have waxed so powerful, that religion is\nthought to consist, not so much in respecting the writings of the Holy\nGhost, as in defending human commentaries, so that religion is no longer\nidentified with charity, but with spreading discord and propagating\ninsensate hatred disguised under the name of zeal for the Lord, and\neager ardor.\n\nTo these evils we must add superstition, which teaches men to despise\nreason and Nature, and only to admire and venerate that which is\nrepugnant to both: whence it is not wonderful that for the sake of\nincreasing the admiration and veneration felt for Scripture, men strive\nto explain it so as to make it appear to contradict, as far as possible,\nboth one and the other: thus they dream that most profound mysteries lie\nhid in the Bible, and weary themselves out in the investigation of these\nabsurdities, to the neglect of what is useful. Every result of their\ndiseased imagination they attribute to the Holy Ghost, and strive to\ndefend with the utmost zeal and passion; for it is an observed fact that\nmen employ their reason to defend conclusions arrived at by reason, but\nconclusions arrived at by the passions are defended by the passions.\n\nIf we would separate ourselves from the crowd and escape from\ntheological prejudices, instead of rashly accepting human commentaries\nfor Divine documents, we must consider the true method of interpreting\nScripture and dwell upon it at some length: for if we remain in\nignorance of this we cannot know, certainly, what the Bible and the Holy\nSpirit wish to teach.\n\nI may sum up the matter by saying that the method of interpreting\nScripture does not widely differ from the method of interpreting\nNature--in fact, it is almost the same. For as the interpretation of\nNature consists in the examination of the history of Nature, and\ntherefrom deducing definitions of natural phenomena on certain fixed\naxioms, so Scriptural interpretation proceeds by the examination of\nScripture, and inferring the intention of its authors as a legitimate\nconclusion from its fundamental principles. By working in this manner\nevery one will always advance without danger of error--that is, if they\nadmit no principles for interpreting Scripture, and discussing its\ncontents save such as they find in Scripture itself--and will be able\nwith equal security to discuss what surpasses our understanding, and\nwhat is known by the natural light of reason.\n\nIn order to make clear that such a method is not only correct, but is\nalso the only one advisable, and that it agrees with that employed in\ninterpreting Nature, I must remark that Scripture very often treats of\nmatters which cannot be deduced from principles known to reason: for it\nis chiefly made up of narratives and revelation: the narratives\ngenerally contain miracles--that is, [as we shall show in a later\nchapter], relations of extraordinary natural occurrences adapted to the\nopinions and judgment of the historians who recorded them: the\nrevelations also were adapted to the opinions of the prophets and in\nthemselves surpassed human comprehension. Therefore the knowledge of all\nthese--that is, of nearly the whole contents of Scripture, must be\nsought from Scripture alone, even as the knowledge of nature is sought\nfrom nature. As for the moral doctrines which are also contained in the\nBible, they may be demonstrated from received axioms, but we cannot\nprove in the same manner that Scripture intended to teach them, this can\nonly be learned from Scripture itself.\n\nIf we would bear unprejudiced witness to the Divine origin of Scripture,\nwe must prove solely on its own authority that it teaches true moral\ndoctrines, for by such means alone can its Divine origin be\ndemonstrated: we have shown that the certitude of the prophets depended\nchiefly on their having minds turned towards what is just and good,\ntherefore we ought to have proof of their possessing this quality before\nwe repose faith in them. From miracles God's divinity cannot be proved\n[as I shall show], for miracles could be wrought by false prophets.\nWherefore the Divine origin of Scripture must consist solely in its\nteaching true virtue. But we must come to our conclusion simply on\nScriptural grounds, for if we were unable to do so we could not, unless\nstrongly prejudiced, accept the Bible and bear witness to its Divine\norigin.\n\nOur knowledge of Scripture must then be looked for in Scripture only.\n\nLastly, Scripture does not give us definitions of things any more than\nnature does: therefore, such definitions must be sought in the latter\ncase from the diverse workings of nature; in the former case, from the\nvarious narratives about the given subject which occur in the Bible.\n\nThe universal rule, then, in interpreting Scripture is to accept nothing\nas an authoritative Scriptural statement which we do not perceive very\nclearly when we examine it in the light of its history. What I mean by\nits history, and what should be the chief points elucidated, I will now\nexplain.\n\nThe history of a Scriptural statement comprises--\n\nI. The nature and properties of the language in which the books of the\nBible were written, and in which their authors were accustomed to speak.\nWe shall thus be able to investigate every expression by comparison with\ncommon conversational usages.\n\nNow all the writers both of the Old Testament and the New were Hebrews:\ntherefore, a knowledge of the Hebrew language is before all things\nnecessary, not only for the comprehension of the Old Testament, which\nwas written in that tongue, but also of the New: for although the latter\nwas published in other languages, yet its characteristics are Hebrew.\n\nII. An analysis of each book and arrangement of its contents under\nheads; so that we may have at hand the various texts which treat of a\ngiven subject. Lastly, a note of all the passages which are ambiguous or\nobscure, or which seem mutually contradictory.\n\nI call passages clear or obscure according as their meaning is inferred\neasily or with difficulty in relation to the context, not according as\ntheir truth is perceived easily or the reverse by reason. We are at\nwork not on the truth of passages, but solely on their meaning. We must\ntake especial care, when we are in search of the meaning of a text, not\nto be led away by our reason in so far as it is founded on principles of\nnatural knowledge (to say nothing of prejudices): in order not to\nconfound the meaning of a passage with its truth, we must examine it\nsolely by means of the signification of the words, or by a reason\nacknowledging no foundation but Scripture.\n\nI will illustrate my meaning by an example. The words of Moses, \"God is\na fire\" and \"God is jealous,\" are perfectly clear so long as we regard\nmerely the signification of the words, and I therefore reckon them among\nthe clear passages, though in relation to reason and truth they are most\nobscure: still, although the literal meaning is repugnant to the natural\nlight of reason, nevertheless, if it cannot be clearly overruled on\ngrounds and principles derived from its Scriptural \"history,\" it, that\nis, the literal meaning, must be the one retained: and contrariwise if\nthese passages literally interpreted are found to clash with principles\nderived from Scripture, though such literal interpretation were in\nabsolute harmony with reason, they must be interpreted in a different\nmanner, _i.e._, metaphorically.\n\nIf we would know whether Moses believed God to be a fire or not, we must\non no account decide the question on grounds of the reasonableness or\nthe reverse of such an opinion, but must judge solely by the other\nopinions of Moses which are on record.\n\nIn the present instance, as Moses says in several other passages that\nGod has no likeness to any visible thing, whether in heaven or in earth,\nor in the water, either all such passages must be taken metaphorically,\nor else the one before us must be so explained. However, as we should\ndepart as little as possible from the literal sense, we must first ask\nwhether this text, God is a fire, admits of any but the literal\nmeaning--that is, whether the word fire ever means anything besides\nordinary natural fire. If no such second meaning can be found, the text\nmust be taken literally, however repugnant to reason it may be: and all\nthe other passages, though in complete accordance with reason, must be\nbrought into harmony with it. If the verbal expressions would not admit\nof being thus harmonized, we should have to set them down as\nirreconcilable, and suspend our judgment concerning them. However, as we\nfind the name fire applied to anger and jealousy (see Job xxxi. 12) we\ncan thus easily reconcile the words of Moses, and legitimately conclude\nthat the two propositions God is a fire, and God is jealous, are in\nmeaning identical.\n\nFurther, as Moses clearly teaches that God is jealous, and nowhere\nstates that God is without passions or emotions, we must evidently infer\nthat Moses held this doctrine himself, or at any rate, that he wished to\nteach it, nor must we refrain because such a belief seems contrary to\nreason: for as we have shown, we cannot wrest the meaning of texts to\nsuit the dictates of our reason, or our preconceived opinions. The whole\nknowledge of the Bible must be sought solely from itself.\n\nIII. Lastly, such a history should relate the environment of all the\nprophetic books extant; that is, the life, the conduct, and the studies\nof the author of each book, who he was, what was the occasion, and the\nepoch of his writing, whom did he write for, and in what language.\nFurther, it should inquire into the fate of each book: how it was first\nreceived, into whose hands it fell, how many different versions there\nwere of it, by whose advice was it received into the Bible, and, lastly,\nhow all the books now universally accepted as sacred, were united into a\nsingle whole.\n\nAll such information should, as I have said, be contained in the\n\"history\" of Scripture. For, in order to know what statements are set\nforth as laws, and what as moral precepts, it is important to be\nacquainted with the life, the conduct, and the pursuits of their author:\nmoreover, it becomes easier to explain a man's writings in proportion as\nwe have more intimate knowledge of his genius and temperament.\n\nFurther, that we may not confound precepts which are eternal with those\nwhich served only a temporary purpose, or were only meant for a few, we\nshould know what was the occasion, the time, the age, in which each book\nwas written, and to what nation it was addressed.\n\nLastly, we should have knowledge on the other points I have mentioned,\nin order to be sure, in addition to the authenticity of the work, that\nit has not been tampered with by sacrilegious hands, or whether errors\ncan have crept in, and, if so, whether they have been corrected by men\nsufficiently skilled and worthy of credence. All these things should be\nknown, that we may not be led away by blind impulse to accept whatever\nis thrust on our notice, instead of only that which is sure and\nindisputable.\n\nNow, when we are in possession of this history of Scripture, and have\nfinally decided that we assert nothing as prophetic doctrine which does\nnot directly follow from such history, or which is not clearly deducible\nfrom it, then, I say, it will be time to gird ourselves for the task of\ninvestigating the mind of the prophets and of the Holy Spirit. But in\nthis further arguing, also, we shall require a method very like that\nemployed in interpreting Nature from her history. As in the examination\nof natural phenomena we try first to investigate what is most universal\nand common to all Nature--such, for instance, as motion and rest, and\ntheir laws and rules, which Nature always observes, and through which\nshe continually works--and then we proceed to what is less universal;\nso, too, in the history of Scripture, we seek first for that which is\nmost universal, and serves for the basis and foundation of all\nScripture, a doctrine, in fact, that is commended by all the prophets as\neternal and most profitable to all men. For example, that God is one,\nand that He is omnipotent, and He alone should be worshiped, that He has\na care for all men, and that He especially loves those who adore Him and\nlove their neighbor as themselves, etc. These and similar doctrines, I\nrepeat, Scripture everywhere so clearly and expressly teaches, that no\none was ever in doubt of its meaning concerning them.\n\nThe nature of God, His manner of regarding and providing for things, and\nsimilar doctrines, Scripture nowhere teaches professedly, and as eternal\ndoctrine; on the contrary, we have shown that the prophets themselves\ndid not agree on the subject; therefore, we must not lay down any\ndoctrine as Scriptural on such subjects, though it may appear perfectly\nclear on rational grounds.\n\nFrom a proper knowledge of this universal doctrine of Scripture, we must\nthen proceed to other doctrines less universal, but which, nevertheless,\nhave regard to the general conduct of life, and flow from the universal\ndoctrine like rivulets from a source: such are all particular external\nmanifestations of true virtue, which need a given occasion for their\nexercise; whatever is obscure or ambiguous on such points in Scripture\nmust be explained and defined by its universal doctrine; with regard to\ncontradictory instances, we must observe the occasion and the time in\nwhich they were written. For instance, when Christ says, \"Blessed are\nthey that mourn, for they shall be comforted,\" we do not know, from the\nactual passage, what sort of mourners are meant; as, however, Christ\nafterwards teaches that we should have care for nothing, save only for\nthe kingdom of God and His righteousness, which is commended as the\nhighest good (see Matt. vi. 33), it follows that by mourners He only\nmeant those who mourn for the kingdom of God and righteousness neglected\nby man: for this would be the only cause of mourning to those who love\nnothing but the Divine kingdom and justice, and who evidently despise\nthe gifts of fortune. So, too, when Christ says: \"But if a man strike\nyou on the right cheek, turn to him the left also,\" and the words which\nfollow.\n\nIf He had given such a command, as a lawgiver, to judges, He would\nthereby have abrogated the law of Moses, but this He expressly says He\ndid not do (Matt. v. 17). Wherefore we must consider who was the\nspeaker, what was the occasion, and to whom were the words addressed.\nNow Christ said that He did not ordain laws as a legislator, but\ninculcated precepts as a teacher: inasmuch as He did not aim at\ncorrecting outward actions so much as the frame of mind. Further, these\nwords were spoken to men who were oppressed, who lived in a corrupt\ncommonwealth on the brink of ruin, where justice was utterly neglected.\nThe very doctrine inculcated here by Christ just before the destruction\nof the city was also taught by Jeremiah before the first destruction of\nJerusalem, that is, in similar circumstances, as we see from\nLamentations iii. 25-30.\n\nNow as such teaching was only set forth by the prophets in times of\noppression, and was even then never laid down as a law; and as, on the\nother hand, Moses (who did not write in times of oppression, but--mark\nthis--strove to found a well-ordered commonwealth), while condemning\nenvy and hatred of one's neighbor, yet ordained that an eye should be\ngiven for an eye, it follows most clearly from these purely Scriptural\ngrounds that this precept of Christ and Jeremiah concerning submission\nto injuries was only valid in places where justice is neglected, and in\na time of oppression, but does not hold good in a well-ordered state.\n\nIn a well-ordered state where justice is administered every one is\nbound, if he would be accounted just, to demand penalties before the\njudge (see Lev. v. 1), not for the sake of vengeance (Lev. xix. 17, 18),\nbut in order to defend justice and his country's laws, and to prevent\nthe wicked rejoicing in their wickedness. All this is plainly in\naccordance with reason. I might cite many other examples in the same\nmanner, but I think the foregoing are sufficient to explain my meaning\nand the utility of this method, and this is all my present purpose.\nHitherto we have only shown how to investigate those passages of\nScripture which treat of practical conduct, and which, therefore, are\nmore easily examined, for on such subjects there was never really any\ncontroversy among the writers of the Bible.\n\nThe purely speculative passages cannot be so easily traced to their real\nmeaning: the way becomes narrower, for as the prophets differed in\nmatters speculative among themselves, and the narratives are in great\nmeasure adapted to the prejudices of each age, we must not, on any\naccount, infer the intention of one prophet from clearer passages in the\nwritings of another; nor must we so explain his meaning, unless it is\nperfectly plain that the two prophets were at one in the matter.\n\nHow we are to arrive at the intention of the prophets in such cases I\nwill briefly explain. Here, too, we must begin from the most universal\nproposition, inquiring first from the most clear Scriptural statements\nwhat is the nature of prophecy or revelation, and wherein does it\nconsist; then we must proceed to miracles, and so on to whatever is most\ngeneral till we come to the opinions of a particular prophet, and, at\nlast, to the meaning of a particular revelation, prophecy, history, or\nmiracle. We have already pointed out that great caution is necessary not\nto confound the mind of a prophet or historian with the mind of the Holy\nSpirit and the truth of the matter; therefore I need not dwell further\non the subject. I would, however, here remark concerning the meaning of\nrevelation, that the present method only teaches us what the prophets\nreally saw or heard, not what they desired to signify or represent by\nsymbols. The latter may be guessed at but cannot be inferred with\ncertainty from Scriptural premises.\n\nWe have thus shown the plan for interpreting Scripture, and have, at the\nsame time, demonstrated that it is the one and surest way of\ninvestigating its true meaning. I am willing indeed to admit that those\npersons (if any such there be) would be more absolutely certainly right,\nwho have received either a trustworthy tradition or an assurance from\nthe prophets themselves, such as is claimed by the Pharisees; or who\nhave a pontiff gifted with infallibility in the interpretation of\nScripture, such as the Roman Catholics boast. But as we can never be\nperfectly sure, either of such a tradition or of the authority of the\npontiff, we cannot found any certain conclusion on either: the one is\ndenied by the oldest sect of Christians, the other by the oldest sect of\nJews. Indeed, if we consider the series of years (to mention no other\npoint) accepted by the Pharisees from their Rabbis, during which time\nthey say they have handed down the tradition from Moses, we shall find\nthat it is not correct, as I show elsewhere. Therefore such a tradition\nshould be received with extreme suspicion; and although, according to\nour method, we are bound to consider as uncorrupted the tradition of the\nJews, namely, the meaning of the Hebrew words which we received from\nthem, we may accept the latter while retaining our doubts about the\nformer.\n\nNo one has ever been able to change the meaning of a word in ordinary\nuse, though many have changed the meaning of a particular sentence. Such\na proceeding would be most difficult; for whoever attempted to change\nthe meaning of a word, would be compelled, at the same time, to explain\nall the authors who employed it, each according to his temperament and\nintention, or else, with consummate cunning, to falsify them.\n\nFurther, the masses and the learned alike preserve language, but it is\nonly the learned who preserve the meaning of particular sentences and\nbooks: thus, we may easily imagine that the learned having a very rare\nbook in their power, might change or corrupt the meaning of a sentence\nin it, but they could not alter the signification of the words;\nmoreover, if anyone wanted to change the meaning of a common word he\nwould not be able to keep up the change among posterity, or in common\nparlance or writing.\n\nFor these and such-like reasons we may readily conclude that it would\nnever enter into the mind of anyone to corrupt a language, though the\nintention of a writer may often have been falsified by changing his\nphrases or interpreting them amiss. As then our method (based on the\nprinciple that the knowledge of Scripture must be sought from itself\nalone) is the sole true one, we must evidently renounce any knowledge\nwhich it cannot furnish for the complete understanding of Scripture....\n\nIf we read a book which contains incredible or impossible narratives, or\nis written in a very obscure style, and if we know nothing of its\nauthor, nor of the time or occasion of its being written, we shall\nvainly endeavor to gain any certain knowledge of its true meaning. For\nbeing in ignorance on these points we cannot possibly know the aim or\nintended aim of the author; if we are fully informed, we so order our\nthoughts as not to be in any way prejudiced either in ascribing to the\nauthor or him for whom the author wrote either more or less than his\nmeaning, and we only take into consideration what the author may have\nhad in his mind, or what the time and occasion demanded. I think this\nmust be tolerably evident to all.\n\nIt often happens that in different books we read histories in themselves\nsimilar, but which we judge very differently, according to the opinions\nwe have formed of the authors. I remember once to have read in some book\nthat a man named Orlando Furioso used to drive a kind of winged monster\nthrough the air, fly over any countries he liked, kill unaided vast\nnumbers of men and giants, and such like fancies, which from the point\nof view of reason are obviously absurd. A very similar story I read in\nOvid of Perseus, and also in the books of Judges and Kings of Samson,\nwho alone and unarmed killed thousands of men, and of Elijah, who flew\nthrough the air, and at last went up to heaven in a chariot of fire,\nwith horses of fire. All these stories are obviously alike, but we judge\nthem very differently. The first only sought to amuse, the second had a\npolitical object, the third a religious object. We gather this simply\nfrom the opinions we had previously formed of the authors. Thus it is\nevidently necessary to know something of the authors of writings which\nare obscure or unintelligible, if we would interpret their meaning; and\nfor the same reason, in order to choose the proper reading from among a\ngreat variety, we ought to have information as to the versions in which\nthe differences are found, and as to the possibility of other readings\nhaving been discovered by persons of greater authority....\n\n... The difficulties in this method of interpreting Scripture from its\nown history, I conceive to be so great that I do not hesitate to say\nthat the true meaning of Scripture is in many places inexplicable, or at\nbest mere subject for guess work; but I must again point out, on the\nother hand, that such difficulties only arise when we endeavor to follow\nthe meaning of a prophet in matters which cannot be perceived, but only\nimagined, not in things, whereof the understanding can give a clear and\ndistinct idea, and which are conceivable through themselves: matters\nwhich by their nature are easily perceived cannot be expressed so\nobscurely as to be unintelligible; as the proverb says, \"a word is\nenough to the wise.\" Euclid, who only wrote of matters very simple and\neasily understood, can easily be comprehended by any one in any\nlanguage; we can follow his intention perfectly, and be certain of his\ntrue meaning, without having a thorough knowledge of the language in\nwhich he wrote; in fact, a quite rudimentary acquaintance is sufficient.\nWe need make no researches concerning the life, the pursuits, or the\nhabits of the author; nor need we inquire in what language, nor when he\nwrote, nor the vicissitudes of his book, nor its various readings, nor\nhow, nor by whose advice it has been received.\n\nWhat we here say of Euclid might equally be said of any book which\ntreats of things by their nature perceptible: thus we conclude that we\ncan easily follow the intention of Scripture in moral questions, from\nthe history we possess of it, and we can be sure of its true meaning.\n\nThe precepts of true piety are expressed in very ordinary language, and\nare equally simple and easily understood. Further, as true salvation and\nblessedness consist in a true assent of the soul--and we truly assent\nonly to what we clearly understand--it is most plain that we can follow\nwith certainty the intention of Scripture in matters relating to\nsalvation and necessary to blessedness; therefore, we need not be much\ntroubled about what remains: such matters, inasmuch as we generally\ncannot grasp them with our reason and understanding, are more curious\nthan profitable.\n\nI think I have now set forth the true method of Scriptural\ninterpretation, and have sufficiently explained my own opinion thereon.\nBesides, I do not doubt that every one will see that such a method only\nrequires the aid of natural reason. The nature and efficacy of the\nnatural reason consists in deducing and proving the unknown from the\nknown, or in carrying premises to their legitimate conclusions; and\nthese are the very processes which our method desiderates. Though we\nmust admit that it does not suffice to explain everything in the Bible,\nsuch imperfection does not spring from its own nature, but from the\nfact that the path which it teaches us, as the true one, has never been\ntended or trodden by men, and has thus, by the lapse of time, become\nvery difficult, and almost impassable, as, indeed, I have shown in the\ndifficulties I draw attention to.\n\nThere only remains to examine the opinions of those who differ from me.\n\nThe first which comes under our notice is, that the light of nature has\nno power to interpret Scripture, but that a supernatural faculty is\nrequired for the task. What is meant by this supernatural faculty I will\nleave to its propounders to explain. Personally, I can only suppose that\nthey have adopted a very obscure way of stating their complete\nuncertainty about the true meaning of Scripture. If we look at their\ninterpretations, they contain nothing supernatural, at least nothing but\nthe merest conjectures.\n\nLet them be placed side by side with the interpretations of those who\nfrankly confess that they have no faculty beyond their natural ones; we\nshall see that the two are just alike--both human, both long pondered\nover, both laboriously invented. To say that the natural reason is\ninsufficient for such results is plainly untrue, firstly, for the\nreasons above stated, namely, that the difficulty of interpreting\nScripture arises from no defect in human reason, but simply from the\ncarelessness (not to say malice) of men who neglected the history of the\nBible while there were still materials for inquiry; secondly, from the\nfact (admitted, I think, by all) that the supernatural faculty is a\nDivine gift granted only to the faithful. But the prophets and apostles\ndid not preach to the faithful only, but chiefly to the unfaithful and\nwicked. Such persons, therefore, were able to understand the intention\nof the prophets and apostles, otherwise the prophets and apostles would\nhave seemed to be preaching to little boys and infants, not to men\nendowed with reason. Moses, too, would have given his laws in vain, if\nthey could only be comprehended by the faithful, who need no law.\nIndeed, those who demand supernatural faculties for comprehending the\nmeaning of the prophets and apostles seem truly lacking in natural\nfaculties, so that we should hardly suppose such persons the possessors\nof a Divine supernatural gift.\n\nThe opinion of Maimonides was widely different. He asserted that each\npassage in Scripture admits of various, nay, contrary meanings; but that\nwe could never be certain of any particular one till we knew that the\npassage, as we interpreted it, contained nothing contrary or repugnant\nto reason. If the literal meaning clashes with reason, though the\npassage seems in itself perfectly clear, it must be interpreted in some\nmetaphorical sense. This doctrine he lays down very plainly in Chap.\nxxv. part ii. of his book _More Nebuchim_ for he says: \"Know that we\nshrink not from affirming that the world hath existed from eternity,\nbecause of what Scripture saith concerning the world's creation. For the\ntexts which teach that the world was created are not more in number than\nthose which teach that God hath a body; neither are the approaches in\nthis matter of the world's creation closed, or even made hard to us: so\nthat we should not be able to explain what is written, as we did when we\nshowed that God hath no body, nay, peradventure, we could explain and\nmake fast the doctrine of the world's eternity more easily than we did\naway with the doctrines that God hath a beatified body. Yet two things\nhinder me from doing as I have said, and believing that the world is\neternal. As it hath been clearly shown that God hath not a body, we must\nperforce explain all those passages whereof the literal sense agreeth\nnot with the demonstration, for sure it is that they can be so\nexplained. But the eternity of the world hath not been so demonstrated,\ntherefore it is not necessary to do violence to Scripture in support of\nsome common opinion, whereof we might, at the bidding of reason, embrace\nthe contrary.\"\n\nSuch are the words of Maimonides, and they are evidently sufficient to\nestablish our point: for if he had been convinced by reason that the\nworld is eternal, he would not have hesitated to twist and explain away\nthe words of Scripture till he made them appear to teach this doctrine.\nHe would have felt quite sure that Scripture, though everywhere plainly\ndenying the eternity of the world, really intends to teach it. So that,\nhowever clear the meaning of Scripture may be, he would not feel certain\nof having grasped it, so long as he remained doubtful of the truth of\nwhat was written. For we are in doubt whether a thing is in conformity\nwith reason, or contrary thereto, so long as we are uncertain of its\ntruth, and, consequently, we cannot be sure whether the literal meaning\nof a passage be true or false.\n\nIf such a theory as this were sound, I would certainly grant that some\nfaculty beyond the natural reason is required for interpreting\nScripture. For nearly all things that we find in Scripture cannot be\ninferred from known principles of the natural reason, and therefore, we\nshould be unable to come to any conclusion about their truth, or about\nthe real meaning and intention of Scripture, but should stand in need of\nsome further assistance.\n\nFurther, the truth of this theory would involve that the masses, having\ngenerally no comprehension of, nor leisure for, detailed proofs, would\nbe reduced to receiving all their knowledge of Scripture on the\nauthority and testimony of philosophers, and consequently, would be\ncompelled to suppose that the interpretations given by philosophers were\ninfallible.\n\nTruly this would be a new form of ecclesiastical authority, and a new\nsort of priests or pontiffs, more likely to excite men's ridicule than\ntheir veneration. Certainly our method demands a knowledge of Hebrew for\nwhich the masses have no leisure; but no such objection as the foregoing\ncan be brought against us. For the ordinary Jews or Gentiles, to whom\nthe prophets and apostles preached and wrote, understood the language,\nand consequently, the intention of the prophet or apostle addressing\nthem; but they did not grasp the intrinsic reason of what was preached,\nwhich, according to Maimonides, would be necessary for an understanding\nof it.\n\nThere is nothing, then, in our method which renders it necessary that\nthe masses should follow the testimony of commentators, for I point to a\nset of unlearned people who understood the language of the prophets and\napostles; whereas Maimonides could not point to any such who could\narrive at the prophetic or apostolic meaning through their knowledge of\nthe causes of things.\n\nAs to the multitude of our own time [we shall show] that whatsoever is\nnecessary to salvation, though its reasons may be unknown, can easily be\nunderstood in any language, because it is thoroughly ordinary and usual;\nit is in such understanding as this that the masses acquiesce, not in\nthe testimony of commentators; with regard to other questions, the\nignorant and the learned fare alike.\n\nBut let us return to the opinion of Maimonides, and examine it more\nclosely. In the first place, he supposes that the prophets were in\nentire agreement one with another, and that they were consummate\nphilosophers and theologians; for he would have them to have based their\nconclusions on the absolute truth. Further, he supposes that the sense\nof Scripture cannot be made plain from Scripture itself, for the truth\nof things is not made plain therein (in that it does not prove anything,\nnor teach the matters of which it speaks through their definitions and\nfirst causes), therefore, according to Maimonides, the true sense of\nScripture cannot be made plain from itself, and must not be there\nsought.\n\nThe falsity of such a doctrine is shown in this very chapter, for we\nhave shown both by reason and examples that the meaning of Scripture is\nonly made plain through Scripture itself, and even in questions\ndeducible from ordinary knowledge should be looked for from no other\nsource.\n\nLastly, such a theory supposes that we may explain the words of\nScripture according to our preconceived opinions, twisting them about,\nand reversing or completely changing the literal sense, however plain it\nmay be. Such license is utterly opposed to the teaching of this and the\n[succeeding] chapters, and moreover, will be evident to every one as\nrash and excessive.\n\nBut if we grant all this license, what can it effect after all?\nAbsolutely nothing. Those things which cannot be demonstrated, and which\nmake up the greater part of Scripture, cannot be examined by reason, and\ncannot therefore be explained or interpreted by this rule; whereas, on\nthe contrary, by following our own method, we can explain many questions\nof this nature, and discuss them on a sure basis, as we have already\nshown, by reason and example. Those matters which are by their nature\ncomprehensible we can easily explain, as has been pointed out, simply by\nmeans of the context.\n\nTherefore, the method of Maimonides is clearly useless: to which we may\nadd, that it does away with all the certainty which the masses acquire\nby candid reading, or which is gained by any other persons in any other\nway. In conclusion, then, we dismiss Maimonides' theory as harmful,\nuseless, and absurd.\n\nAs to the tradition of the Pharisees, we have already shown[3] that it\nis not consistent, while the authority of the popes of Rome stands in\nneed of more credible evidence; the latter, indeed, I reject simply on\nthis ground, for if the popes could point out to us the meaning of\nScripture as surely as did the high priests of the Jews, I should not be\ndeterred by the fact that there have been heretic and impious Roman\npontiffs; for among the Hebrew high-priests of old there were also\nheretics and impious men who gained the high-priesthood by improper\nmeans, but who, nevertheless, had Scriptural sanction for their supreme\npower of interpreting the law. (See Deut. xvii. 11, 12, and xxxviii. 10,\nalso Malachi ii. 8).\n\nHowever, as the popes can show no such sanction, their authority remains\nopen to very grave doubt, nor should any one be deceived by the example\nof the Jewish high-priests and think that the Catholic religion also\nstands in need of a pontiff; he should bear in mind that the laws of\nMoses being also the ordinary laws of the country, necessarily required\nsome public authority to insure their observance; for, if everyone were\nfree to interpret the laws of his country as he pleased, no state could\nstand, but would for that very reason be dissolved at once, and public\nrights would become private rights.\n\nWith religion the case is widely different. Inasmuch as it consists not\nso much in outward actions as in simplicity and truth of character, it\nstands outside the sphere of law and public authority. Simplicity and\ntruth of character are not produced by the constraint of laws, nor by\nthe authority of the state, no one the whole world over can be forced or\nlegislated into a state of blessedness; the means required for such a\nconsummation are faithful and brotherly admonition, sound education, and\nabove all, free use of the individual judgment.\n\nTherefore, as the supreme right of free thinking, even on religion, is\nin every man's power, and as it is inconceivable that such power could\nbe alienated, it is also in every man's power to wield the supreme right\nand authority of free judgment in this behalf, and to explain and\ninterpret religion for himself. The only reason for vesting the supreme\nauthority in the interpretation of law, and judgment on public affairs\nin the hands of the magistrates, is that it concerns questions of public\nright. Similarly the supreme authority in explaining religion, and in\npassing judgment thereon, is lodged with the individual because it\nconcerns questions of individual right. So far, then, from the authority\nof the Hebrew high-priests telling in confirmation of the authority of\nthe Roman pontiffs to interpret religion, it would rather tend to\nestablish individual freedom of judgment. Thus in this way, also, we\nhave shown that our method of interpreting Scripture is the best. For as\nthe highest power of Scriptural interpretation belongs to every man, the\nrule for such interpretation should be nothing but the natural light of\nreason which is common to all--not any supernatural light nor any\nexternal authority; moreover, such a rule ought not to be so difficult\nthat it can only be applied by very skillful philosophers, but should be\nadapted to the natural and ordinary faculties and capacity of mankind.\nAnd such I have shown our method to be, for such difficulties as it has\narise from men's carelessness, and are no part of its nature.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[2] From the _Tr. Th.-P._, ch. vii, same title.\n\n[3] The detailed discussion of this point has been omitted.--ED.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nOF PROPHETS AND PROPHECY[4]\n\n\nI\n\nProphecy, or revelation, is sure knowledge revealed by God to man. A\nprophet is one who interprets the revelations of God to those who are\nunable to attain to sure knowledge of the matters revealed, and\ntherefore can only apprehend them by simple faith.\n\nThe Hebrew word for prophet is \"_nabi_,\" _i.e._, speaker or interpreter,\nbut in Scripture its meaning is restricted to interpreter of God, as we\nmay learn from Exodus vii. 1, where God says to Moses, \"See, I have made\nthee a god to Pharaoh, and Aaron thy brother shall be thy prophet;\"\nimplying that, since in interpreting Moses' words to Pharaoh, Aaron\nacted the part of a prophet, Moses would be to Pharaoh as a god, or in\nthe attitude of a god....\n\nNow it is evident, from the definition above given, that prophecy really\nincludes ordinary knowledge; for the knowledge which we acquire by our\nnatural faculties depends on our knowledge of God and His eternal laws;\nbut ordinary knowledge is common to all men as men, and rests on\nfoundations which all share, whereas the multitude always strains after\nrarities and exceptions, and thinks little of the gifts of nature; so\nthat, when prophecy is talked of, ordinary knowledge is not supposed to\nbe included. Nevertheless it has as much right as any other to be called\nDivine, for God's nature, in so far as we share therein, and God's laws,\ndictate it to us; nor does it suffer from that to which we give the\npreeminence, except in so far as the latter transcends its limits and\ncannot be accounted for by natural laws taken in themselves. In respect\nto the certainty it involves, and the source from which it is derived,\n_i.e._, God, ordinary knowledge is no whit inferior to prophetic, unless\nindeed we believe, or rather dream, that the prophets had human bodies\nbut superhuman minds, and therefore that their sensations and\nconsciousness were entirely different from our own.\n\nBut, although ordinary knowledge is Divine, its professors cannot be\ncalled prophets, for they teach what the rest of mankind could perceive\nand apprehend, not merely by simple faith, but as surely and honorably\nas themselves.\n\nSeeing then that our mind subjectively contains in itself and partakes\nof the nature of God, and solely from this cause is enabled to form\nnotions explaining natural phenomena and inculcating morality, it\nfollows that we may rightly assert the nature of the human mind (in so\nfar as it is thus conceived) to be a primary cause of Divine revelation.\nAll that we clearly and distinctly understand is dictated to us, as I\nhave just pointed out, by the idea and nature of God; not indeed through\nwords, but in a way far more excellent and agreeing perfectly with the\nnature of the mind, as all who have enjoyed intellectual certainty will\ndoubtless attest. Here, however, my chief purpose is to speak of\nmatters having reference to Scripture, so these few words on the light\nof reason will suffice.\n\nI will now pass on to, and treat more fully, the other ways and means by\nwhich God makes revelations to mankind, both of that which transcends\nordinary knowledge and of that within its scope; for there is no reason\nwhy God should not employ other means to communicate what we know\nalready by the power of reason.\n\nOur conclusions on the subject must be drawn solely from Scripture; for\nwhat can we affirm about matters transcending our knowledge except what\nis told us by the words or writings of prophets? And since there are, so\nfar as I know, no prophets now alive, we have no alternative but to read\nthe books of prophets departed, taking care the while not to reason from\nmetaphor or to ascribe anything to our authors which they do not\nthemselves distinctly state. I must further premise that the Jews never\nmake any mention or account of secondary, or particular causes, but in a\nspirit of religion, piety, and what is commonly called godliness, refer\nall things directly to the Deity. For instance, if they make money by a\ntransaction, they say God gave it to them; if they desire anything, they\nsay God has disposed their hearts towards it; if they think anything,\nthey say God told them. Hence we must not suppose that everything is\nprophecy or revelation which is described in Scripture as told by God to\nany one, but only such things as are expressly announced as prophecy or\nrevelation, or are plainly pointed to as such by the context.\n\nA perusal of the sacred books will show us that all God's revelations to\nthe prophets were made through words or appearances, or a combination of\nthe two. These words and appearances were of two kinds; (1) _real_ when\nexternal to the mind of the prophet who heard or saw them, (2)\n_imaginary_ when the imagination of the prophet was in a state which led\nhim distinctly to suppose that he heard or saw them.\n\nWith a real voice God revealed to Moses the laws which He wished to be\ntransmitted to the Hebrews, as we may see from Exodus xxv. 22, where God\nsays, \"And there I will meet with thee and I will commune with thee from\nthe mercy seat which is between the Cherubim.\" Some sort of real voice\nmust necessarily have been employed, for Moses found God ready to\ncommune with him at any time. This is the only instance of a real voice.\n\n... Some of the Jews believe that the actual words of the Decalogue were\nnot spoken by God, but that the Israelites heard a noise only, without\nany distinct words, and during its continuance apprehend the Ten\nCommandments by pure intuition; to this opinion I myself once inclined,\nseeing that the words of the Decalogue in Exodus are different from the\nwords of the Decalogue in Deuteronomy, for the discrepancy seemed to\nimply (since God only spoke once) that the Ten Commandments were not\nintended to convey the actual words of the Lord, but only His meaning.\nHowever, unless we would do violence to Scripture, we must certainly\nadmit that the Israelites heard a real voice, for Scripture expressly\nsays (Deut. v. 4), \"God spake with you face to face,\" _i.e._, as two men\nordinarily interchange ideas through the instrumentality of their two\nbodies; and therefore it seems more consonant with Holy Writ to suppose\nthat God really did create a voice of some kind with which the Decalogue\nwas revealed....\n\nYet not even thus is all difficulty removed, for it seems scarcely\nreasonable to affirm that a created thing, depending on God in the same\nmanner as other created things, would be able to express or explain the\nnature of God either verbally or really by means of its individual\norganism: for instance, by declaring in the first person, \"I am the Lord\nyour God.\"\n\nCertainly when any one says his mouth, \"I understand,\" we do not\nattribute the understanding to the mouth, but to the mind of the\nspeaker; yet this is because the mouth is the natural organ of a man\nspeaking, and the hearer, knowing what understanding is, easily\ncomprehends, by a comparison with himself, that the speaker's mind is\nmeant; but if we knew nothing of God beyond the mere name and wished to\ncommune with Him, and be assured of His existence, I fail to see how our\nwish would be satisfied by the declaration of a created thing (depending\non God neither more nor less than ourselves), \"I am the Lord.\" If God\ncontorted the lips of Moses, or, I will not say Moses, but some beast,\ntill they pronounced the words, \"I am the Lord,\" should we apprehend the\nLord's existence therefrom?\n\nScripture seems clearly to point to the belief that God spoke Himself,\nhaving descended from heaven to Mount Sinai for the purpose--and not\nonly that the Israelites heard Him speaking, but that their chief men\nbeheld Him (Ex. xxiv.). Further, the laws of Moses which might neither\nbe added to nor curtailed, and which was set up as a national standard\nof right, nowhere prescribed the belief that God is without body, or\neven without form or figure, but only ordained that the Jews should\nbelieve in His existence and worship Him alone: it forbade them to\ninvent or fashion any likeness of the Deity, but this was to insure\npurity of service; because, never having seen God, they could not by\nmeans of images recall the likeness of God, but only the likeness of\nsome created thing which might thus gradually take the place of God as\nthe object of their adoration. Nevertheless, the Bible clearly implies\nthat God has a form, and that Moses when he heard God speaking was\npermitted to behold it, or at least its hinder parts.\n\nDoubtless some mystery lurks in this question which we will discuss more\nfully below. For the present I will call attention to the passages in\nScripture indicating the means by which God has revealed His laws to\nman.\n\nRevelation may be through figures only (as in 1 Chron. xxii.), where God\ndisplays his anger to David by means of an angel bearing a sword, and\nalso in the story of Balaam.\n\nMaimonides and others do indeed maintain that these and every other\ninstance of angelic apparitions (_e.g._, to Manoah and to Abraham\noffering up Isaac) occurred during sleep, for that no one with his eyes\nopen ever could see an angel, but this is mere nonsense. The sole object\nof such commentators seemed to be to extort from Scripture confirmations\nof Aristotelian quibbles and their own inventions, a proceeding which I\nregard as the acme of absurdity.\n\nIn figures, not real but existing only in the prophet's imagination, God\nrevealed to Joseph his future lordship, and in words and figures He\nrevealed to Joshua that He would fight for the Hebrews, causing to\nappear an angel, as it were the captain of the Lord's host, bearing a\nsword, and by this means communicating verbally. The forsaking of Israel\nby Providence was portrayed to Isaiah by a vision of the Lord, the\nthrice Holy, sitting on a very lofty throne, and the Hebrews, stained\nwith the mire of their sins, sunk, as it were, in uncleanness, and thus\nas far as possible distant from God. The wretchedness of the people at\nthe time was thus revealed, while future calamities were foretold in\nwords. I could cite from Holy Writ many similar examples, but I think\nthey are sufficiently well known already....\n\nWe may be able quite to comprehend that God can communicate immediately\nwith man, for without the intervention of bodily means He communicates\nto our minds His essence; still, a man who can by pure intuition\ncomprehend ideas which are neither contained in nor deducible from the\nfoundations of our natural knowledge, must necessarily possess a mind\nfar superior to those of his fellow men, nor do I believe that any have\nbeen so endowed save Christ. To Him the ordinances of God leading men to\nsalvation were revealed directly without words or visions, so that God\nmanifested Himself to the Apostles through the mind of Christ as He\nformerly did to Moses through the supernatural voice. In this sense the\nvoice of Christ, like the voice which Moses heard, may be called the\nvoice of God, and it may be said that the wisdom of God (_i.e._, wisdom\nmore than human) took upon itself in Christ human nature, and that\nChrist was the way of salvation. I must at this juncture declare that\nthose doctrines which certain churches put forward concerning Christ, I\nneither affirm nor deny, for I freely confess that I do not understand\nthem. What I have just stated I gather from Scripture, where I never\nread that God appeared to Christ, or spoke to Christ, but that God was\nrevealed to the Apostles through Christ; that Christ was the Way of\nLife, and that the old law was given through an angel, and not\nimmediately by God; whence it follows that if Moses spoke with God face\nto face as a man speaks with his friend (_i.e._, by means of their two\nbodies) Christ communed with God mind to mind.[5]\n\nThus we may conclude that no one except Christ received the revelations\nof God without the aid of imagination, whether in words or vision.\nTherefore the power of prophecy implies not a peculiarly perfect mind,\nbut a peculiarly vivid imagination....\n\nIf the Jews were at a loss to understand any phenomenon, or were\nignorant of its cause, they referred it to God. Thus a storm was termed\nthe chiding of God, thunder and lightning the arrows of God, for it was\nthought that God kept the winds confined in caves, His treasuries; thus\ndiffering merely in name from the Greek wind-god Eolus. In like manner\nmiracles were called works of God, as being especially marvelous; though\nin reality, of course, all natural events are the works of God, and take\nplace solely by His power. The Psalmist calls the miracles in Egypt the\nworks of God, because the Hebrews found in them a way of safety which\nthey had not looked for, and therefore especially marveled at.\n\nAs, then, unusual natural phenomena are called works of God, and trees\nof unusual size are called trees of God, we cannot wonder that very\nstrong and tall men, though impious robbers and whoremongers, are in\nGenesis called sons of God.\n\nThis reference of things wonderful to God was not peculiar to the Jews.\nPharaoh, on hearing the interpretation of his dream, exclaimed that the\nmind of the gods was in Joseph. Nebuchadnezzar told Daniel that he\npossessed the mind of the holy gods; so also in Latin anything well made\nis often said to be wrought with Divine hands, which is equivalent to\nthe Hebrew phrase, wrought with the hand of God.\n\n... We find that the Scriptural phrases, \"The Spirit of the Lord was\nupon a prophet,\" \"The Lord breathed His Spirit into men,\" \"Men were\nfilled with the Spirit of God, with the Holy Spirit,\" etc., are quite\nclear to us, and mean that the prophets were endowed with a peculiar and\nextraordinary power, and devoted themselves to piety with especial\nconstancy; that thus they perceived the mind or the thought of God, for\nwe have shown [elsewhere] that God's spirit signifies in Hebrew God's\nmind or thought, and that the law which shows His mind and thought is\ncalled His Spirit; hence that the imagination of the prophets, inasmuch\nas through it were revealed the decrees of God, may equally be called\nthe mind of God, and the prophets be said to have possessed the mind of\nGod. On our minds also the mind of God and His eternal thoughts are\nimpressed; but this being the same for all men is less taken into\naccount, especially by the Hebrews, who claimed a preeminence, and\ndespised other men and other men's knowledge.\n\n[Also] the prophets were said to possess the Spirit of God because men\nknew not the cause of prophetic knowledge, and in their wonder referred\nit with other marvels directly to the Deity, styling it Divine\nknowledge.\n\nWe need no longer scruple to affirm that the prophets only perceived\nGod's revelation by the aid of imagination, that is, by words and\nfigures either real or imaginary. We find no other means mentioned in\nScripture, and therefore must not invent any. As to the particular law\nof Nature by which the communications took place, I confess my\nignorance. I might, indeed, say as others do, that they took place by\nthe power of God; but this would be mere trifling, and no better than\nexplaining some unique specimen by a transcendental term. Everything\ntakes place by the power of God. Nature herself is the power of God\nunder another name, and our ignorance of the power of God is\nco-extensive with our ignorance of Nature. It is absolutely folly,\ntherefore, to ascribe an event to the power of God when we know not its\nnatural cause, which is the power of God.\n\nHowever, we are not now inquiring into the causes of prophetic\nknowledge. We are only attempting, as I have said, to examine the\nScriptural documents, and to draw our conclusions from them as from\nultimate natural facts; the causes of the documents do not concern us.\n\nAs the prophets perceived the revelations of God by the aid of\nimagination, they could indisputably perceive much that is beyond the\nboundary of the intellect, for many more ideas can be constructed from\nwords and figures than from the principles and notions on which the\nwhole fabric of reasoned knowledge is reared.\n\nThus we have a clue to the fact that the prophets perceived nearly\neverything in parables and allegories, and clothed spiritual truths in\nbodily forms, for such is the usual method of imagination. We need no\nlonger wonder that Scripture and the prophets speak so strangely and\nobscurely of God's Spirit or Mind (cf. Numbers xi. 17, 1 Kings xxii, 21,\netc.), that the Lord was seen by Micah as sitting, by Daniel as an old\nman clothed in white, by Ezekiel as a fire, that the Holy Spirit\nappeared to those with Christ as a descending dove, to the apostles as\nfiery tongues, to Paul on his conversion as a great light. All these\nexpressions are plainly in harmony with the current ideas of God and\nspirits.\n\nInasmuch as imagination is fleeting and inconstant, we find that the\npower of prophecy did not remain with a prophet for long, nor manifest\nitself frequently, but was very rare; manifesting itself only in a few\nmen, and in them not often.\n\nWe must necessarily inquire how the prophets became assured of the truth\nof what they perceived by imagination, and not by sure mental laws; but\nour investigation must be confined to Scripture, for the subject is one\non which we cannot acquire certain knowledge, and which we cannot\nexplain by the immediate causes.\n\n\nII\n\n... As I have said, the prophets were endowed with unusually vivid\nimaginations, and not with unusually perfect minds. This conclusion is\namply sustained by Scripture, for we are told that Solomon was the\nwisest of men, but had no special faculty of prophecy. Heman, Calcol,\nand Dara, though men of great talent, were not prophets, whereas\nuneducated countrymen, nay, even women, such as Hagar, Abraham's\nhandmaid, were thus gifted. Nor is this contrary to ordinary experience\nand reason. Men of great imaginative power are less fitted for abstract\nreasoning, whereas those who excel in intellect and its use keep their\nimagination more restrained and controlled, holding it in subjection, so\nto speak, lest it should usurp the place of reason.\n\nThus to suppose that knowledge of natural and spiritual phenomena can be\ngained from the prophetic books, is an utter mistake, which I shall\nendeavor to expose, as I think philosophy, the age, and the question\nitself demand. I care not for the girdings of superstition, for\nsuperstition is the bitter enemy of all true knowledge and true\nmorality. Yes; it has come to this! Men who openly confess that they can\nform no idea of God, and only know Him through created things, of which\nthey know not the causes, can unblushingly accuse philosophers of\nAtheism.\n\nTreating the question methodically, I will show that prophecies varied,\nnot only according to the imagination and physical temperament of the\nprophet, but also according to his particular opinions; and further that\nprophecy never rendered the prophet wiser than he was before. But I will\nfirst discuss the assurance of truth which the prophets received, for\nthis is akin to the subject-matter of the chapter, and will serve to\nelucidate somewhat our present point.\n\nImagination does not, in its own nature, involve any certainty of truth,\nsuch as is implied in every clear and distinct idea, but requires some\nextrinsic reason to assure us of its objective reality: hence prophecy\ncannot afford certainty, and the prophets were assured of God's\nrevelation by some sign, and not by the fact of revelation, as we may\nsee from Abraham, who, when he had heard the promise of God, demanded a\nsign, not because he did not believe in God but because he wished to be\nsure that it was God Who made the promise. The fact is still more\nevident in the case of Gideon: \"Show me,\" he says to God, \"show me a\nsign, that I may know that it is Thou that talkest with me.\" God also\nsays to Moses: \"And let this be a sign that I have sent thee.\" Hezekiah,\nthough he had long known Isaiah to be a prophet, none the less demanded\na sign of the cure which he predicted. It is thus quite evident that the\nprophets always received some sign to certify them of their prophetic\nimaginings; and for this reason Moses bids the Jews (Deut. xviii.) ask\nof the prophets a sign, namely, the prediction of some coming event. In\nthis respect, prophetic knowledge is inferior to natural knowledge,\nwhich needs no sign, and in itself implies certitude. Moreover,\nScripture warrants the statement that the certitude of the prophets was\nnot mathematical, but moral. Moses lays down the punishment of death for\nthe prophet who preaches new gods, even though he confirm his doctrine\nby signs and wonders (Deut. xiii.); \"For,\" he says, \"the Lord also\nworketh signs and wonders to try His people.\" And Jesus Christ warns His\ndisciples of the same thing (Matt. xxiv. 24). Furthermore, Ezekiel (xiv.\n9) plainly states that God sometimes deceives men with false\nrevelations; and Micaiah bears like witness in the case of the prophets\nof Ahab.\n\nAlthough these instances go to prove that revelation is open to doubt,\nit nevertheless contains, as we have said, a considerable element of\ncertainty, for God never deceives the good, nor His chosen, but\n(according to the ancient proverb and as appears in the history of\nAbigail and her speech), God uses the good as instruments of goodness,\nand the wicked as means to execute His wrath. This may be seen from the\ncases of Micaiah above quoted; for although God had determined to\ndeceive Ahab, through prophets, He made use of lying prophets; to the\ngood prophet He revealed the truth, and did not forbid his proclaiming\nit.\n\nStill the certitude of prophecy remains, as I have said, merely moral;\nfor no one can justify himself before God, nor boast that he is an\ninstrument for God's goodness. Scripture itself teaches and shows that\nGod led away David to number the people, though it bears ample witness\nto David's piety.\n\nThe whole question of the certitude of prophecy was based on these three\nconsiderations:--\n\n1. That the things revealed were imagined very vividly, affecting the\nprophets in the same way as things seen when awake;\n\n2. The presence of a sign;\n\n3. Lastly and chiefly, that the mind of the prophet was given wholly to\nwhat was right and good.\n\nAlthough Scripture does not always make mention of a sign, we must\nnevertheless suppose that a sign was always vouchsafed; for Scripture\ndoes not always relate every condition and circumstance (as many have\nremarked), but rather takes them for granted. We may, however, admit\nthat no sign was needed when the prophecy declared nothing that was not\nalready contained in the law of Moses, because it was confirmed by that\nlaw. For instance, Jeremiah's prophecy of the destruction of Jerusalem\nwas confirmed by the prophecies of other prophets, and by the threats in\nthe law, and therefore it needed no sign; whereas Hananiah, who,\ncontrary to all the prophets, foretold the speedy restoration of the\nstate, stood in need of a sign, or he would have been in doubt as to the\ntruth of his prophecy, until it was confirmed by facts. \"The prophet\nwhich prophesieth of peace, when the word of the prophet shall come to\npass, then shall the prophet be known that the Lord hath truly sent\nhim.\"\n\nAs, then, the certitude afforded to the prophet by signs was not\nmathematical (_i.e._, did not necessarily follow from the perception of\nthe thing perceived or seen), but only moral, and as the signs were only\ngiven to convince the prophet, it follows that such signs were given\naccording to the opinions and capacity of each prophet, so that a sign\nwhich would convince one prophet would fall far short of convincing\nanother who was imbued with different opinions. Therefore the signs\nvaried according to the individual prophet.\n\nSo also did the revelation vary, as we have stated, according to\nindividual disposition and temperament, and according to the opinions\npreviously held.\n\nIt varied according to disposition, in this way: if a prophet was\ncheerful, victories, peace, and events which make men glad, were\nrevealed to him; in that he was naturally more likely to imagine such\nthings. If, on the contrary, he was melancholy, wars, massacres, and\ncalamities were revealed; and so, according as a prophet was merciful,\ngentle, quick to anger, or severe, he was more fitted for one kind of\nrevelation than another. It varied according to the temper of\nimagination in this way: if a prophet was cultivated he perceived the\nmind of God in a cultivated way, if he was confused he perceived it\nconfusedly. And so with revelations perceived through visions. If a\nprophet was a countryman he saw visions of oxen, cows, and the like; if\nhe was a soldier, he saw generals and armies; if a courtier, a royal\nthrone, and so on.\n\nLastly, prophecy varied according to the opinions held by the prophets;\nfor instance, to the Magi, who believed in the follies of astrology, the\nbirth of Christ was revealed through the vision of a star in the East.\nTo the augurs of Nebuchadnezzar the destruction of Jerusalem was\nrevealed through entrails, whereas the king himself inferred it from\noracles and the direction of arrows which he shot into the air. To\nprophets who believed that man acts from free choice and by his own\npower, God was revealed as standing apart from and ignorant of future\nhuman actions. All of which we will illustrate from Scripture....\n\nThe style of the prophecy also varied according to the eloquence of the\nindividual prophet. The prophecies of Ezekiel and Amos are not written\nin a cultivated style like those of Isaiah and Nahum, but more rudely.\nAny Hebrew scholar who wishes to inquire into this point more closely,\nand compares chapters of the different prophets treating of the same\nsubject, will find that God has no particular style in speaking, but,\naccording to the learning and capacity of the prophet, is cultivated,\ncompressed, severe, untutored, prolixed or obscure....\n\nEvery one has been strangely hasty in affirming that the prophets knew\neverything within the scope of human intellect; and, although certain\npassages of Scripture plainly affirm that the prophets were in certain\nrespects ignorant, such persons would rather say that they do not\nunderstand the passages than admit that there was anything which the\nprophets did not know; or else they try to wrest the Scriptural words\naway from their evident meaning.\n\nIf either of these proceedings is allowable we may as well shut our\nBibles, for vainly shall we attempt to prove anything from them if their\nplainest passages may be classed among obscure and impenetrable\nmysteries, or if we may put any interpretation on them which we fancy.\nFor instance, nothing is more clear in the Bible than that Joshua, and\nperhaps also the author who wrote his history, thought that the sun\nrevolves round the earth, and that the earth is fixed, and further that\nthe sun for a certain period remained still. Many, who will not admit\nany movement in the heavenly bodies, explain away the passage till it\nseems to mean something quite different; others, who have learned to\nphilosophize more correctly, and understand that the earth moves while\nthe sun is still, or at any rate does not revolve round the earth, try\nwith all their might to wrest this meaning from Scripture, though\nplainly nothing of the sort is intended. Such quibblers excite my\nwonder! Are we, forsooth, bound to believe that Joshua the soldier was a\nlearned astronomer? or that a miracle could not be revealed to him, or\nthat the light of the sun could not remain longer than usual above the\nhorizon, without his knowing the cause? To me both alternatives appear\nridiculous, and therefore I would rather say that Joshua was ignorant of\nthe true cause of the lengthened day, and that he and the whole host\nwith him thought that the sun moved round the earth every day, and that\non that particular occasion it stood still for a time, thus causing the\nlight to remain longer; and I would say that they did not conjecture\nthat, from the amount of snow in the air (see Josh. x. 11), the\nrefraction may have been greater than usual, or that there may have been\nsome other cause which we will not now inquire into.\n\nSo also the sign of the shadow going back was revealed to Isaiah\naccording to his understanding; that is, as proceeding from a going\nbackwards of the sun; for he, too, thought that the sun moves and that\nthe earth is still; of parhelia he perhaps never even dreamed. We may\narrive at this conclusion without any scruple, for the sign could really\nhave come to pass, and have been predicted by Isaiah to the king,\nwithout the prophet being aware of the real cause.\n\nWith regard to the building of the Temple by Solomon, if it was really\ndictated by God we must maintain the same doctrine: namely, that all the\nmeasurements were revealed according to the opinions and understanding\nof the king; for as we are not bound to believe that Solomon was a\nmathematician, we may affirm that he was ignorant of the true ratio\nbetween the circumference and the diameter of a circle, and that, like\nthe generality of workmen, he thought that it was as three to one. But\nif it is allowable to declare that we do not understand the passage, in\ngood sooth I know nothing in the Bible that we can understand; for the\nprocess of building is there narrated simply and as a mere matter of\nhistory. If, again, it is permitted to pretend that the passage has\nanother meaning, and was written as it is from some reason unknown to\nus, this is no less than a complete subversal of the Bible; for every\nabsurd and evil invention of human perversity could thus, without\ndetriment to Scriptural authority, be defended and fostered. Our\nconclusion is in no wise impious, for though Solomon, Isaiah, Joshua,\netc., were prophets, they were none the less men, and as such not exempt\nfrom human shortcomings.\n\nAccording to the understanding of Noah it was revealed to him that God\nwas about to destroy the whole human race, for Noah thought that beyond\nthe limits of Palestine the world was not inhabited.\n\nNot only in matters of this kind, but in others more important, the\nprophets could be, and in fact were, ignorant; for they taught nothing\nspecial about the Divine attributes, but held quite ordinary notions\nabout God, and to these notions their revelations were adapted, as I\nwill demonstrate by ample Scriptural testimony; from all which one may\neasily see that they were praised and commended, not so much for the\nsublimity and eminence of their intellect as for their piety and\nfaithfulness.\n\nAdam, the first man to whom God was revealed, did not know that He is\nomnipotent and omniscient; for he hid himself from Him, and attempted to\nmake excuses for his fault before God, as though he had had to do with\na man; therefore to him also was God revealed according to his\nunderstanding--that is, as being unaware of his situation or his sin,\nfor Adam heard, or seemed to hear, the Lord walking in the garden,\ncalling him and asking him where he was; and then, on seeing his\nshamefacedness, asking him whether he had eaten of the forbidden fruit.\nAdam evidently only knew the Deity as the Creator of all things. To Cain\nalso God was revealed, according to his understanding, as ignorant of\nhuman affairs, nor was a higher conception of the Deity required for\nrepentance of his sin.\n\nTo Laban the Lord revealed Himself as the God of Abraham, because Laban\nbelieved that each nation had its own special divinity (see Gen. xxxi.\n29). Abraham also knew not that God is omnipresent, and has\nforeknowledge of all things; for when he heard the sentence against the\ninhabitants of Sodom, he prayed that the Lord should not execute it till\nHe had ascertained whether they all merited such punishment; for he said\n(see Gen. xviii. 24), \"Peradventure there be fifty righteous within the\ncity,\" and in accordance with this belief God was revealed to him; as\nAbraham imagined, He spake thus: \"I will go down now, and see whether\nthey have done altogether according to the cry of it which is come unto\nMe; and if not I will know.\" Further, the Divine testimony concerning\nAbraham asserts nothing but that he was obedient, and that he \"commanded\nhis household after him that they should keep the way of the Lord\" (Gen.\nxviii. 19); it does not state that he held sublime conceptions of the\nDeity.\n\nMoses, also, was not sufficiently aware that God is omniscient, and\ndirects human actions by His sole decree, for although God himself says\nthat the Israelites should hearken to Him, Moses still considered the\nmatter doubtful and repeated, \"But if they will not believe me, nor\nhearken unto my voice.\" To him in like manner God was revealed as taking\nno part in, and as being ignorant of, future human actions: the Lord\ngave him two signs and said, \"And it shall come to pass that if they\nwill not believe thee, neither hearken to the voice of the first sign,\nthat they will believe the voice of the latter sign; but if not, thou\nshalt take of the water of the river,\" etc. Indeed, if any one considers\nwithout prejudice the recorded opinions of Moses, he will plainly see\nthat Moses conceived the Deity as a Being Who has always existed, does\nexist, and always will exist, and for this cause he calls Him by the\nname Jehovah, which in Hebrew signifies these three phases of existence:\nas to His nature, Moses only taught that He is merciful, gracious, and\nexceeding jealous, as appears from many passages in the Pentateuch.\nLastly, he believed and taught that this Being was so different from all\nother beings, that He could not be expressed by the image of any visible\nthing; also, that He could not be looked upon, and that not so much from\ninherent impossibility as from human infirmity; further, that by reason\nof His power He was without equal and unique. Moses admitted, indeed,\nthat there were beings (doubtless by the plan and command of the Lord)\nwho acted as God's vicegerents--that is, beings to whom God had given\nthe right, authority, and power to direct nations, and to provide and\ncare for them; but he taught that this Being Whom they were bound to\nobey was the highest and Supreme God, (or to use the Hebrew phrase) God\nof gods, and thus in the song (Exod. xv. 11) he exclaims, \"Who is like\nunto Thee, O Lord, among the gods?\" and Jethro says (Exod. xviii. 11),\n\"Now I know that the Lord is greater than all gods.\" That is to say, \"I\nam at length compelled to admit to Moses that Jehovah is greater than\nall gods, and that His power is unrivalled.\" We must remain in doubt\nwhether Moses thought that these beings who acted as God's vicegerents\nwere created by Him, for he has stated nothing, so far as we know, about\ntheir creation and origin. He further taught that this Being had brought\nthe visible world into order from Chaos, and had given Nature her germs,\nand therefore that He possesses supreme right and power over all things;\nfurther, that by reason of this supreme right and power He had chosen\nfor Himself alone the Hebrew nation and a certain strip of territory,\nand had handed over to the care of other gods substituted by Himself the\nrest of the nations and territories, and that therefore He was called\nthe God of Israel and the God of Jerusalem, whereas the other gods were\ncalled the gods of the Gentiles. For this reason the Jews believed that\nthe strip of territory which God had chosen for Himself, demanded a\nDivine worship quite apart and different from the worship which obtained\nelsewhere, and that the Lord would not suffer the worship of other gods\nadapted to other countries. Thus they thought that the people whom the\nking of Assyria had brought into Judaea were torn in pieces by lions\nbecause they knew not the worship of the National Divinity (2 Kings\nxvii. 25)....\n\nIf we now examine the revelations to Moses, we shall find that they were\naccommodated to these opinions; as he believed that the Divine Nature\nwas subject to the conditions of mercy, graciousness, etc., so God was\nrevealed to him in accordance with his idea and under these attributes\n(see Exodus xxxiv. 6, 7, and the second commandment). Further it is\nrelated (Ex. xxxiii. 18) that Moses asked of God that he might behold\nHim, but as Moses (as we have said) had formed no mental image of God,\nand God (as I have shown) only revealed Himself to the prophets in\naccordance with the disposition of their imagination, He did not reveal\nHimself in any form. This, I repeat, was because the imagination of\nMoses was unsuitable, for other prophets bear witness that they saw the\nLord; for instance, Isaiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, etc. For this reason God\nanswered Moses, \"Thou canst not see My face;\" and inasmuch as Moses\nbelieved that God can be looked upon--that is, that no contradiction of\nthe Divine nature is therein involved (for otherwise he would never have\npreferred his request)--it is added, \"For no one shall look on Me and\nlive,\" thus giving a reason in accordance with Moses' idea, for it is\nnot stated that a contradiction of the Divine nature would be involved,\nas was really the case, but that the thing would not come to pass\nbecause of human infirmity....\n\nLastly, as Moses believed that God dwelt in the heavens, God was\nrevealed to him as coming down from heaven on to a mountain, and in\norder to talk with the Lord Moses went up the mountain, which he\ncertainly need not have done if he could have conceived of God as\nomnipresent.\n\nThe Israelites knew scarcely anything of God, although He was revealed\nto them; and this is abundantly evident from their transferring, a few\ndays afterwards, the honor and worship due to Him to a calf, which they\nbelieved to be the god who had brought them out of Egypt. In truth, it\nis hardly likely that men accustomed to the superstitions of Egypt,\nuncultivated and sunk in most abject slavery, should have held any sound\nnotions about the Deity, or that Moses should have taught them anything\nbeyond a rule of right living; inculcating it not like a philosopher, as\nthe result of freedom, but like a lawgiver compelling them to be moral\nby legal authority. Thus the rule of right living, the worship and love\nof God, was to them rather a bondage than the true liberty, the gift and\ngrace of the Deity. Moses bid them love God and keep His law, because\nthey had in the past received benefits from Him (such as the deliverance\nfrom slavery in Egypt), and further terrified them with threats if they\ntransgressed His commands, holding out many promises of good if they\nshould observe them; thus treating them as parents treat irrational\nchildren. It is, therefore, certain that they knew not the excellence of\nvirtue and the true happiness.\n\nJonah thought that he was fleeing from the sight of God, which seems to\nshow that he too held that God had entrusted the care of the nations\noutside Judaea to other substituted powers. No one in the whole of the\nOld Testament speaks more rationally of God than Solomon, who in fact\nsurpassed all the men of his time in natural ability. Yet he considered\nhimself above the law (esteeming it only to have been given for men\nwithout reasonable and intellectual grounds for their actions), and made\nsmall account of the laws concerning kings, which are mainly three: nay,\nhe openly violated them (in this he did wrong, and acted in a manner\nunworthy of a philosopher, by indulging in sensual pleasure), and taught\nthat all Fortune's favors to mankind are vanity, that humanity has no\nnobler gift than wisdom, and no greater punishment than folly. (See\nProverbs xvi. 22, 23.)\n\n... God adapted revelations to the understanding and opinions of the\nprophets, and ... in matters of theory without bearing on charity or\nmorality, the prophets could be, and, in fact, were ignorant, and held\nconflicting opinions. It therefore follows that we must by no means go\nto the prophets for knowledge, either of natural or of spiritual\nphenomena.\n\nWe have determined, then, that we are only bound to believe in the\nprophetic writings, the object and substance of the revelation; with\nregard to the details, every one may believe or not, as he likes.\n\nFor instance, the revelation to Cain only teaches us that God admonished\nhim to lead the true life, for such alone is the object and substance of\nthe revelation, not doctrines concerning free will and philosophy.\nHence, though the freedom of the will is clearly implied in the words of\nthe admonition, we are at liberty to hold a contrary opinion, since the\nwords and reasons were adapted to the understanding of Cain.\n\nSo, too, the revelation to Micaiah would only teach that God revealed to\nhim the true issue of the battle between Ahab and Aram; and this is all\nwe are bound to believe. Whatever else is contained in the revelation\nconcerning the true and the false Spirit of God, the army of heaven\nstanding on the right hand and on the left, and all the other details,\ndoes not affect us at all. Every one may believe as much of it as his\nreason allows.\n\nThe reasonings by which the Lord displayed His power to Job (if they\nreally were a revelation, and the author of the history is narrating,\nand not merely, as some suppose, rhetorically adorning his own\nconceptions), would come under the same category--that is, they were\nadapted to Job's understanding, for the purpose of convincing him, and\nare not universal, or for the convincing of all men.\n\nWe can come to no different conclusion with respect to the reasonings of\nChrist, by which He convicted the Pharisees of pride and ignorance, and\nexhorted His disciples to lead the true life. He adapted them to each\nman's opinions and principles. For instance, when He said to the\nPharisees (Matt. xii. 26), \"And if Satan cast out devils, his house is\ndivided against itself, how then shall his kingdom stand?\" He only\nwished to convince the Pharisees according to their own principles, not\nto teach that there are devils, or any kingdom of devils. So, too, when\nHe said to His disciples (Matt. viii. 10), \"See that ye despise not one\nof these little ones, for I say unto you that their angels,\" etc., He\nmerely desired to warn them against pride and despising any of their\nfellows, not to insist on the actual reason given, which was simply\nadopted in order to persuade them more easily.\n\nLastly, we should say exactly the same of the apostolic signs and\nreasonings, but there is no need to go further into the subject. If I\nwere to enumerate all the passages of Scripture addressed only to\nindividuals, or to a particular man's understanding, and which cannot,\nwithout great danger to philosophy, be defended as Divine doctrines, I\nshould go far beyond the brevity at which I aim. Let it suffice then, to\nhave indicated a few instances of general application, and let the\ncurious reader consider others by himself. Although the points we have\njust raised concerning prophets and prophecy are the only ones which\nhave any direct bearing on the end in view, namely, the separation of\nPhilosophy from Theology, still, as I have touched on the general\nquestion, I may here inquire whether the gift of prophecy was peculiar\nto the Hebrews, or whether it was common to all nations. I must then\ncome to a conclusion about the vocation of the Hebrews, all of which I\nshall do in the ensuing chapter.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[4] From the _Tr. Th.-P._ ch. i _Of Prophecy_; and ch. ii of _Of\nProphets_.\n\n[5] ... I will tell you that I do not think it necessary for salvation\nto know Christ according to the flesh; but with regard to the Eternal\nSon of God, that is the Eternal Wisdom of God, which has manifested\nitself in all things and especially in the human mind, and above all in\nChrist Jesus, the case is far otherwise. For without this no one can\ncome to a state of blessedness, inasmuch as it alone teaches what is\ntrue or false, good or evil. And, inasmuch as this wisdom was made\nespecially manifest through Jesus Christ, as I have said, His disciples\npreached it, in so far as it was revealed to them through Him, and thus\nshowed that they could rejoice in that spirit of Christ more than the\nrest of mankind. The doctrines added by certain churches, such as that\nGod took upon Himself human nature, I have expressly said that I do not\nunderstand. In fact, to speak the truth, they seem to me no less absurd\nthan would a statement that a circle had taken upon itself the nature of\na square. This I think will be sufficient explanation of my opinion....\nWhether it will be satisfactory to Christians you will know better than\nI. Farewell. _From a letter to Henry Oldenburg_ (Nov. 1675).\n\n... For the rest, I accept Christ's passion, death, and burial\nliterally, as you do, but His resurrection I understand allegorically. I\nadmit, that it is related by the Evangelists in such detail that we\ncannot deny that they themselves believed Christ's body to have risen\nfrom the dead and ascended to heaven in order to sit at the right hand\nof God, or that they believed that Christ might have been seen by\nunbelievers, if they had happened to be at hand, in the places where He\nappeared to His disciples; but in these matters they might, without\ninjury to Gospel teaching, have been deceived, as was the case with\nother prophets.... But Paul, to whom Christ afterwards appeared,\nrejoices that he knew Christ, not after the flesh, but after the spirit.\n_From a letter to Henry Oldenburg_ (Jan. 1676).\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nOF THE VOCATION OF THE HEBREWS[6]\n\n\nEvery man's true happiness and blessedness consist solely in the\nenjoyment of what is good, not in the pride that he alone is enjoying\nit, to the exclusion of others. He who thinks himself the more blessed\nbecause he is enjoying benefits which others are not, or because he is\nmore blessed or more fortunate than his fellows, is ignorant of true\nhappiness and blessedness, and the joy which he feels is either childish\nor envious and malicious. For instance, a man's true happiness consists\nonly in wisdom, and the knowledge of the truth, not at all in the fact\nthat he is wiser than others, or that others lack such knowledge: such\nconsiderations do not increase his wisdom or true happiness.\n\nWhoever, therefore, rejoices for such reasons, rejoices in another's\nmisfortune, and is, so far, malicious and bad, knowing neither true\nhappiness nor the peace of the true life.\n\nWhen Scripture, therefore, in exhorting the Hebrews to obey the law,\nsays that the Lord has chosen them for Himself before other nations\n(Deut. x. 15); that He is near them, but not near others (Deut. iv. 7);\nthat to them alone He has given just laws (Deut. iv. 8); and, lastly,\nthat He has marked them out before others (Deut. iv. 32); it speaks only\naccording to the understanding of its hearers, who, as we have shown in\nthe last chapter, and as Moses also testified (Deut. ix. 6, 7), knew not\ntrue blessedness. For in good sooth they would have been no less blessed\nif God had called all men equally to salvation, nor would God have been\nless present to them for being equally present to others; their laws\nwould have been no less just if they had been ordained for all, and they\nthemselves would have been no less wise. The miracles would have shown\nGod's power no less by being wrought for other nations also; lastly, the\nHebrews would have been just as much bound to worship God if He had\nbestowed all these gifts equally on all men.\n\nWhen God tells Solomon (1 Kings iii. 12) that no one shall be as wise as\nhe in time to come, it seems to be only a manner of expressing\nsurpassing wisdom; it is little to be believed that God would have\npromised Solomon, for his greater happiness, that He would never endow\nany one with so much wisdom in time to come; this would in no wise have\nincreased Solomon's intellect, and the wise king would have given equal\nthanks to the Lord if every one had been gifted with the same faculties.\n\nStill, though we assert that Moses, in the passages of the Pentateuch\njust cited, spoke only according to the understanding of the Hebrews, we\nhave no wish to deny that God ordained the Mosaic law for them alone,\nnor that He spoke to them alone, nor that they witnessed marvels beyond\nthose which happened to any other nation; but we wish to emphasize that\nMoses desired to admonish the Hebrews in such a manner and with such\nreasonings as would appeal most forcibly to their childish\nunderstanding and constrain them to worship the Deity. Further, we\nwished to show that the Hebrews did not surpass other nations in\nknowledge, or in piety, but evidently in some attribute different from\nthese; or (to speak like the Scriptures, according to their\nunderstanding), that the Hebrews were not chosen by God before others\nfor the sake of the true life and sublime ideas, though they were often\nthereto admonished, but with some other object. What that object was I\nwill duly show.\n\nBut before I begin, I wish in a few words to explain what I mean by the\nguidance of God, by the help of God, external and inward, and lastly,\nwhat I understand by fortune.\n\nBy the help of God, I mean the fixed and unchangeable order of nature or\nthe chain of natural events: for I have said before and shown elsewhere\nthat the universal laws of nature, according to which all things exist\nand are determined, are only another name for the eternal decrees of\nGod, which always involve eternal truth and necessity.\n\nSo that to say that everything happens according to natural laws, and to\nsay that everything is ordained by the decree and ordinance of God, is\nthe same thing. Now since the power in Nature is identical with the\npower of God, by which alone all things happen and are determined, it\nfollows that whatsoever man, as a part of Nature, provides himself with\nto aid and preserve his existence, or whatsoever Nature affords him\nwithout his help, is given to him solely by the Divine power, acting\neither through human nature or through external circumstance. So\nwhatever human nature can furnish itself with by its own efforts to\npreserve its existence, may be fitly called the inward aid of God,\nwhereas whatever else accrues to man's profit from outward causes may be\ncalled the external aid of God.\n\nWe can now easily understand what is meant by the election of God. For\nsince no one can do anything save by the predetermined order of Nature,\nthat is by God's eternal ordinance and decree, it follows that no one\ncan choose a plan of life for himself, or accomplish any work save by\nGod's vocation choosing him for the work or the plan of life in\nquestion, rather than any other. Lastly, by fortune, I mean the\nordinance of God in so far as it directs human life through external and\nunexpected means. With these preliminaries I return to my purpose of\ndiscovering the reason why the Hebrews were said to be elected by God\nbefore other nations, and with the demonstration I thus proceed.\n\nAll objects of legitimate desire fall, generally speaking, under one of\nthese three categories:--\n\n1. The knowledge of things through their primary causes.\n\n2. The government of the passions, or the acquirement of the habit of\nvirtue.\n\n3. Secure and healthy life.\n\nThe means which most directly conduce towards the first two of these\nends, and which may be considered their proximate and efficient causes\nare contained in human nature itself, so that their acquisition hinges\nonly on our own power, and on the laws of human nature. It may be\nconcluded that these gifts are not peculiar to any nation, but have\nalways been shared by the whole human race, unless, indeed, we would\nindulge the dream that Nature formerly created men of different kinds.\nBut the means which conduce to security and health are chiefly in\nexternal circumstance, and are called the gifts of fortune because they\ndepend chiefly on objective causes of which we are ignorant; for a fool\nmay be almost as liable to happiness or unhappiness as a wise man.\nNevertheless, human management and watchfulness can greatly assist\ntowards living in security and warding off the injuries of our fellow\nmen, and even of beasts. Reason and experience show no more certain\nmeans of attaining this object than the formation of a society with\nfixed laws, the occupation of a strip of territory, and the\nconcentration of all forces, as it were, into one body, that is the\nsocial body. Now for forming and preserving a society, no ordinary\nability and care is required: that society will be most secure, most\nstable, and least liable to reverses, which is founded and directed by\nfar-seeing and careful men; while, on the other hand, a society\nconstituted by men without trained skill, depends in a great measure on\nfortune, and is less constant. If, in spite of all, such a society lasts\na long time, it is owing to some other directing influence than its own;\nif it overcomes great perils and its affairs prosper, it will perforce\nmarvel at and adore the guiding Spirit of God (in so far, that is, as\nGod works through hidden means, and not through the nature and mind of\nman), for everything happens to it unexpectedly and contrary to\nanticipation, it may even be said and thought to be by miracle. Nations,\nthen, are distinguished from one another in respect to the social\norganization and the laws under which they live and are governed; the\nHebrew nation was not chosen by God in respect to its wisdom nor its\ntranquillity of mind, but in respect to its social organization and the\ngood fortune with which it obtained supremacy and kept it so many years.\nThis is abundantly clear from Scripture. Even a cursory perusal will\nshow us that the only respects in which the Hebrews surpassed other\nnations, are in their successful conduct of matters relating to\ngovernment, and in their surmounting great perils solely by God's\nexternal aid; in other ways they were on a par with their fellows, and\nGod was equally gracious to all. For in respect to intellect (as we have\nshown in the last chapter) they held very ordinary ideas about God and\nNature, so that they cannot have been God's chosen in this respect; nor\nwere they so chosen in respect of virtue and the true life, for here\nagain they, with the exception of a very few elect, were on an equality\nwith other nations: therefore their choice and vocation consisted only\nin the temporal happiness and advantages of independent rule. In fact,\nwe do not see that God promised anything beyond this to the patriarchs\nor their successors; in the law no other reward is offered for obedience\nthan the continual happiness of an independent commonwealth and other\ngoods of this life; while, on the other hand, against contumacy and the\nbreaking of the covenant is threatened the downfall of the commonwealth\nand great hardships. Nor is this to be wondered at; for the ends of\nevery social organization and commonwealth are (as appears from what we\nhave said, and as we will explain more at length hereafter) security and\ncomfort; a commonwealth can only exist by the laws being binding on\nall. If all the members of a state wish to disregard the law, by that\nvery fact they dissolve the state and destroy the commonwealth. Thus,\nthe only reward which could be promised to the Hebrews for continued\nobedience to the law was security and its attendant advantages, while no\nsurer punishment could be threatened for disobedience, than the ruin of\nthe state and the evils which generally follow therefrom, in addition to\nsuch further consequences as might accrue to the Jews in particular from\nthe ruin of their especial state. But there is no need here to go into\nthis point at more length. I will only add that the laws of the Old\nTestament were revealed and ordained to the Jews only, for as God chose\nthem in respect to the special constitution of their society and\ngovernment, they must, of course, have had special laws. Whether God\nordained special laws for other nations also, and revealed Himself to\ntheir lawgivers prophetically, that is, under the attributes by which\nthe latter were accustomed to imagine Him, I cannot sufficiently\ndetermine. It is evident from Scripture itself that other nations\nacquired supremacy and particular laws by the external aid of God.\n\nIf any one wishes to maintain that the Jews ... have been chosen by God\nfor ever, I will not gainsay him if he will admit that this choice,\nwhether temporary or eternal, has no regard, in so far as it is peculiar\nto the Jews, to aught but dominion and physical advantages (for by such\nalone can one nation be distinguished from another), whereas in regard\nto intellect and true virtue, every nation is on a par with the rest,\nand God has not in these respects chosen one people rather than\nanother.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[6] From the _Tr. Th.-P._, ch. iii, same title.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nOF THE DIVINE LAW[7]\n\n\nThe word law, taken in the abstract means that by which an individual,\nor all things, or as many things as belong to a particular species, act\nin one and the same fixed and definite manner, which manner depends\neither on natural necessity or on human decree. A law which depends on\nnatural necessity is one which necessarily follows from the nature, or\nfrom the definition of the thing in question; a law which depends on\nhuman decree, and which is more correctly called an ordinance, is one\nwhich men have laid down for themselves and others in order to live more\nsafely or conveniently, or from some similar reason.\n\nFor example, the law that all bodies impinging on lesser bodies, lose as\nmuch of their own motion as they communicate to the latter is a\nuniversal law of all bodies, and depends on natural necessity. So, too,\nthe law that a man in remembering one thing, straightway remembers\nanother either like it, or which he had perceived simultaneously with\nit, is a law which necessarily follows from the nature of man. But the\nlaw that men must yield, or be compelled to yield, somewhat of their\nnatural right, and that they bind themselves to live in a certain way,\ndepends on human decree. Now, though I freely admit that all things are\npredetermined by universal natural laws to exist and operate in a given,\nfixed, and definite manner, I still assert that the laws I have just\nmentioned depend on human decree.\n\n(1.) Because man, in so far as he is a part of Nature, constitutes a\npart of the power of Nature. Whatever, therefore, follows necessarily\nfrom the necessity of human nature (that is, from Nature herself, in so\nfar as we conceive of her as acting through man) follows, even though it\nbe necessarily, from human power. Hence the sanction of such laws may\nvery well be said to depend on man's decree, for it principally depends\non the power of the human mind; so that the human mind in respect to its\nperception of things as true and false, can readily be conceived as\nwithout such laws, but not without necessary law as we have just defined\nit.\n\n(2.) I have stated that these laws depend on human decree because it is\nwell to define and explain things by their proximate causes. The general\nconsideration of fate and the concatenation of causes would aid us very\nlittle in forming and arranging our ideas concerning particular\nquestions. Let us add that as to the actual cooerdination and\nconcatenation of things, that is how things are ordained and linked\ntogether, we are obviously ignorant; therefore, it is more profitable\nfor right living, nay, it is necessary for us to consider things as\ncontingent. So much about law in the abstract.\n\nNow the word law seems to be only applied to natural phenomena by\nanalogy, and is commonly taken to signify a command which men can either\nobey or neglect, inasmuch as it restrains human nature within certain\noriginally exceeded limits, and therefore lays down no rule beyond human\nstrength. Thus it is expedient to define law more particularly as a plan\nof life laid down by man for himself or others with a certain object.\n\nHowever, as the true object of legislation is only perceived by a few,\nand most men are almost incapable of grasping it, though they live under\nits conditions, legislators, with a view to exacting general obedience,\nhave wisely put forward another object, very different from that which\nnecessarily follows from the nature of law: they promise to the\nobservers of the law that which the masses chiefly desire, and threaten\nits violators with that which they chiefly fear: thus endeavoring to\nrestrain the masses, as far as may be, like a horse with a curb; whence\nit follows that the word law is chiefly applied to the modes of life\nenjoined on men by the sway of others; hence those who obey the law are\nsaid to live under it and to be under compulsion. In truth, a man who\nrenders every one their due because he fears the gallows, acts under the\nsway and compulsion of others, and cannot be called just. But a man who\ndoes the same from a knowledge of the true reason for laws and their\nnecessity, acts from a firm purpose and of his own accord, and is\ntherefore properly called just. This, I take it, is Paul's meaning when\nhe says, that those who live under the law cannot be justified through\nthe law, for justice, as commonly defined, is the constant and perpetual\nwill to render every man his due. Thus Solomon says (Prov. xxi. 15),\n\"It is a joy to the just to do judgment,\" but the wicked fear.\n\nLaw, then, being a plan of living which men have for a certain object\nlaid down for themselves or others, may, as it seems, be divided into\nhuman law and Divine law.\n\nBy human law I mean a plan of living which serves only to render life\nand the state secure.\n\nBy Divine law I mean that which only regards the highest good, in other\nwords, the true knowledge of God and love.\n\nI call this law Divine because of the nature of the highest good, which\nI will here shortly explain as clearly as I can.\n\nInasmuch as the intellect is the best part of our being, it is evident\nthat we should make every effort to perfect it as far as possible if we\ndesire to search for what is really profitable to us. For in\nintellectual perfection the highest good should consist. Now, since all\nour knowledge, and the certainty which removes every doubt, depend\nsolely on the knowledge of God;--firstly, because without God nothing\ncan exist or be conceived; secondly, because so long as we have no clear\nand distinct idea of God we may remain in universal doubt--it follows\nthat our highest good and perfection also depend solely on the knowledge\nof God. Further, since without God nothing can exist or be conceived, it\nis evident that all natural phenomena involve and express the conception\nof God as far as their essence and perfection extend, so that we have\ngreater and more perfect knowledge of God in proportion to our\nknowledge of natural phenomena: conversely (since the knowledge of an\neffect through its cause is the same thing as the knowledge of a\nparticular property of a cause) the greater our knowledge of natural\nphenomena, the more perfect is our knowledge of the essence of God\n(which is the cause of all things). So, then, our highest good not only\ndepends on the knowledge of God, but wholly consists therein; and it\nfurther follows that man is perfect or the reverse in proportion to the\nnature and perfection of the object of his special desire; hence the\nmost perfect and the chief sharer in the highest blessedness is he who\nprizes above all else, and takes especial delight in the intellectual\nknowledge of God, the most perfect Being.\n\nHither, then, our highest good and our highest blessedness aim--namely,\nto the knowledge and love of God; therefore the means demanded by this\naim of all human actions, that is, by God in so far as the idea of him\nis in us, may be called the commands of God, because they proceed, as it\nwere, from God Himself, inasmuch as He exists in our minds, and the plan\nof life which has regard to this aim may be fitly called the law of God.\n\nThe nature of the means, and the plan of life which this aim demands,\nhow the foundations of the best states follow its lines, and how men's\nlife is conducted, are questions pertaining to general ethics. Here I\nonly proceed to treat of the Divine law in a particular application.\n\nAs the love of God is man's highest happiness and blessedness, and the\nultimate end and aim of all human actions, it follows that he alone\nlives by the Divine law who loves God not from fear of punishment, or\nfrom love of any other object, such as sensual pleasure, fame, or the\nlike; but solely because he has knowledge of God, or is convinced that\nthe knowledge and love of God is the highest good. The sum and chief\nprecept, then, of the Divine law is to love God as the highest good,\nnamely, as we have said, not from fear of any pains and penalties or\nfrom the love of any other object in which we desire to take pleasure.\nThe idea of God lays down the rule that God is our highest good--in\nother words, that the knowledge and love of God is the ultimate aim to\nwhich all our actions should be directed. The worldling cannot\nunderstand these things, they appear foolishness to him, because he has\ntoo meager a knowledge of God, and also because in this highest good he\ncan discover nothing which he can handle or eat, or which affects the\nfleshly appetites wherein he chiefly delights, for it consists solely in\nthought and the pure reason. They, on the other hand, who know that they\npossess no greater gift than intellect and sound reason, will doubtless\naccept what I have said without question.\n\nWe have now explained that wherein the Divine law chiefly consists, and\nwhat are human laws, namely, all those which have a different aim unless\nthey have been ratified by revelation, for in this respect also things\nare referred to God (as we have shown above) and in this sense the law\nof Moses, although it was not universal, but entirely adapted to the\ndisposition and particular preservation of a single people, may yet be\ncalled a law of God or Divine law, inasmuch as we believe that it was\nratified by prophetic insight. If we consider the nature of natural\nDivine law as we have just explained it, we shall see\n\nI. That it is universal or common to all men, for we have deduced it\nfrom universal human nature.\n\nII. That it does not depend on the truth of any historical narrative\nwhatsoever, for inasmuch as this natural Divine law is comprehended\nsolely by the consideration of human nature, it is plain that we can\nconceive it as existing as well in Adam as in any other man, as well in\na man living among his fellows as in a man who lives by himself.\n\nThe truth of a historical narrative, however assured, cannot give us the\nknowledge nor consequently the love of God, for love of God springs from\nknowledge of Him, and knowledge of Him should be derived from general\nideas, in themselves certain and known, so that the truth of a\nhistorical narrative is very far from being a necessary requisite for\nour attaining our highest good.\n\nStill, though the truth of histories cannot give us the knowledge and\nlove of God, I do not deny that reading them is very useful with a view\nto life in the world, for the more we have observed and known of men's\ncustoms and circumstances, which are best revealed by their actions, the\nmore warily we shall be able to order our lives among them, and so far\nas reason dictates to adapt our actions to their dispositions.\n\nIII. We see that this natural Divine law does not demand the performance\nof ceremonies--that is, actions in themselves indifferent, which are\ncalled good from the fact of their institution, or actions symbolizing\nsomething profitable for salvation, or (if one prefers this definition)\nactions of which the meaning surpasses human understanding. The natural\nlight of reason does not demand anything which it is itself unable to\nsupply, but only such as it can very clearly show to be good, or a means\nto our blessedness. Such things as are good simply because they have\nbeen commanded or instituted, or as being symbols of something good, are\nmere shadows which cannot be reckoned among actions that are the\noffspring, as it were, or fruit of a sound mind and of intellect. There\nis no need for me to go into this now in more detail.\n\nIV. Lastly, we see that the highest reward of the Divine law is the law\nitself, namely, to know God and to love Him of our free choice, and with\nan undivided and fruitful spirit; while its penalty is the absence of\nthese things, and being in bondage to the flesh--that is, having an\ninconstant and wavering spirit.\n\nThese points being noted, I must now inquire\n\nI. Whether by the natural light of reason we can conceive of God as a\nlawgiver or potentate ordaining laws for men?\n\nII. What is the teaching of Holy Writ concerning this natural light of\nreason and natural law?\n\nIII. With what objects were ceremonies formerly instituted?\n\nIV. Lastly, what is the good gained by knowing the sacred histories and\nbelieving them?\n\nOf the first two I will treat in this chapter, of the remaining two in\nthe following one.\n\nOur conclusion about the first is easily deduced from the nature of\nGod's will, which is only distinguished from His understanding in\nrelation to our intellect--that is, the will and the understanding of\nGod are in reality one and the same, and are only distinguished in\nrelation to our thoughts which we form concerning God's understanding.\nFor instance, if we are only looking to the fact that the nature of a\ntriangle is from eternity contained in the Divine nature as an eternal\nverity, we say that God possesses the idea of a triangle, or that He\nunderstands the nature of a triangle; but if afterwards we look to the\nfact that the nature of a triangle is thus contained in the Divine\nnature, solely by the necessity of the Divine nature, and not by the\nnecessity of the nature and essence of a triangle--in fact, that the\nnecessity of a triangle's essence and nature, in so far as they are\nconceived of as eternal verities, depends solely on the necessity of the\nDivine nature and intellect, we then style God's will or decree, that\nwhich before we styled His intellect. Wherefore we make one and the same\naffirmation concerning God when we say that He has from eternity decreed\nthat three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles, as when\nwe say that He has understood it.\n\nHence the affirmations and the negations of God always involve necessity\nor truth; so that, for example, if God said to Adam that He did not wish\nhim to eat of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, it would have\ninvolved a contradiction that Adam should have been able to eat of it,\nand would therefore have been impossible that he should have so eaten,\nfor the Divine command would have involved an eternal necessity and\ntruth. But since Scripture nevertheless narrates that God did give this\ncommand to Adam, and yet that none the less Adam ate of the tree, we\nmust perforce say that God revealed to Adam the evil which would surely\nfollow if he should eat of the tree, but did not disclose that such evil\nwould of necessity come to pass. Thus it was that Adam took the\nrevelation to be not an eternal and necessary truth, but a law--that is,\nan ordinance followed by gain or loss, not depending necessarily on the\nnature of the act performed, but solely on the will and absolute power\nof some potentate, so that the revelation in question was solely in\nrelation to Adam, and solely through his lack of knowledge a law, and\nGod was, as it were, a lawgiver and potentate. From the same cause,\nnamely, from lack of knowledge, the Decalogue in relation to the Hebrews\nwas a law, for since they knew not the existence of God as an eternal\ntruth, they must have taken as a law that which was revealed to them in\nthe Decalogue, namely, that God exists, and that God only should be\nworshiped. But if God had spoken to them without the intervention of any\nbodily means, immediately they would have perceived it not as a law but\nas an eternal truth.\n\nWhat we have said about the Israelites and Adam applies also to all the\nprophets who wrote laws in God's name--they did not adequately conceive\nGod's decrees as eternal truths. For instance, we must say of Moses that\nfrom revelation, from the basis of what was revealed to him, he\nperceived the method by which the Israelitish nation could best be\nunited in a particular territory, and could form a body politic or\nstate, and further that he perceived the method by which that nation\ncould best be constrained to obedience; but he did not perceive, nor\nwas it revealed to him, that this method was absolutely the best, nor\nthat the obedience of the people in a certain strip of territory would\nnecessarily imply the end he had in view. Wherefore he perceived these\nthings not as eternal truths, but as precepts and ordinances, and he\nordained them as laws of God, and thus it came to be that he conceived\nGod as a ruler, a legislator, a king, as merciful, just, etc., whereas\nsuch qualities are simply attributes of human nature, and utterly alien\nfrom the nature of the Deity. Thus much we may affirm of the prophets\nwho wrote laws in the name of God; but we must not affirm it of Christ,\nfor Christ, although He too seems to have written laws in the name of\nGod, must be taken to have had a clear and adequate perception, for\nChrist was not so much a prophet as the mouthpiece of God. For God made\nrevelations to mankind through Christ as He had before done through\nangels--that is, a created voice, visions, etc. It would be as\nunreasonable to say that God had accommodated His revelations to the\nopinions of Christ as that He had before accommodated them to the\nopinions of angels (that is, of a created voice or visions) as matters\nto be revealed to the prophets, a wholly absurd hypothesis. Moreover,\nChrist was sent to teach not only the Jews but the whole human race, and\ntherefore it was not enough that His mind should be accommodated to the\nopinions of the Jews alone, but also to the opinion and fundamental\nteaching common to the whole human race--in other words, to ideas\nuniversal and true. Inasmuch as God revealed Himself to Christ, or to\nChrist's mind immediately, and not as to the prophets through words and\nsymbols, we must needs suppose that Christ perceived truly what was\nrevealed, in other words, He understood it, for a matter is understood\nwhen it is perceived simply by the mind without words or symbols.\n\nChrist, then, perceived (truly and adequately) what was revealed, and if\nHe ever proclaimed such revelations as laws, He did so because of the\nignorance and obstinacy of the people, acting in this respect the part\nof God; inasmuch as He accommodated Himself to the comprehension of the\npeople, and though He spoke somewhat more clearly than the other\nprophets, yet He taught what was revealed obscurely, and generally\nthrough parables, especially when He was speaking to those to whom it\nwas not yet given to understand the kingdom of heaven. (See Matt. xiii.\n10, etc.) To those to whom it was given to understand the mysteries of\nheaven, He doubtless taught His doctrines as eternal truths and did not\nlay them down as laws, thus freeing the minds of His hearers from the\nbondage of that law which He further confirmed and established. Paul\napparently points to this more than once (_e.g._, Rom. vii. 6, and iii.\n28), though he never himself seems to wish to speak openly, but, to\nquote his own words (Rom. iii. 5, and vi. 19), \"merely humanly.\" This he\nexpressly states when he calls God just, and it was doubtless in\nconcession to human weakness that he attributes mercy, grace, anger, and\nsimilar qualities to God, adapting his language to the popular mind, or,\nas he puts it (1 Cor. iii. 1, 2), to carnal men. In Rom. ix. 18, he\nteaches undisguisedly that God's anger and mercy depend not on the\nactions of men, but on God's own nature or will; further, that no one\nis justified by the works of the law, but only by faith, which he seems\nto identify with the full assent of the soul; lastly, that no one is\nblessed unless he have in him the mind of Christ (Rom. viii. 9), whereby\nhe perceives the laws of God as eternal truths. We conclude, therefore,\nthat God is described as a lawgiver or prince, and styled just,\nmerciful, etc., merely in concession to popular understanding, and the\nimperfection of popular knowledge; that in reality God acts and directs\nall things simply by the necessity of His nature and perfection, and\nthat His decrees and volitions are eternal truths, and always involve\nnecessity. So much for the first point which I wished to explain and\ndemonstrate.\n\nPassing on to the second point, let us search the sacred pages for their\nteaching concerning the light of nature and this Divine law. The first\ndoctrine we find in the history of the first man, where it is narrated\nthat God commanded Adam not to eat of the fruit of the tree of the\nknowledge of good and evil; this seems to mean that God commanded Adam\nto do and to seek after righteousness because it was good, not because\nthe contrary was evil: that is, to seek the good for its own sake, not\nfrom fear of evil. We have seen that he who acts rightly from the true\nknowledge and love of right, acts with freedom and constancy, whereas he\nwho acts from fear of evil, is under the constraint of evil, and acts in\nbondage under external control. So that this commandment of God to Adam\ncomprehends the whole Divine natural law, and absolutely agrees with the\ndictates of the light of nature; nay, it would be easy to explain on\nthis basis the whole history or allegory of the first man. But I prefer\nto pass over the subject in silence, because, in the first place, I\ncannot be absolutely certain that my explanation would be in accordance\nwith the intention of the sacred writer; and, secondly, because many do\nnot admit that this history is an allegory, maintaining it to be a\nsimple narrative of facts. It will be better, therefore, to adduce other\npassages of Scripture, especially such as were written by him, who\nspeaks with all the strength of his natural understanding, in which he\nsurpassed all his contemporaries, and whose sayings are accepted by the\npeople as of equal right with those of the prophets. I mean Solomon,\nwhose prudence and wisdom are commended in Scripture rather than his\npiety and gift of prophecy. He, in his proverbs, calls the human\nintellect the well-spring of true life, and declares that misfortune is\nmade up of folly. \"Understanding is a well-spring of life to him that\nhath it; but the instruction of fools is folly\" (Prov. xvi. 22). Life\nbeing taken to mean the true life (as is evident from Deut. xxx. 19),\nthe fruit of the understanding consists only in the true life, and its\nabsence constitutes punishment. All this absolutely agrees with what was\nset out in our fourth point concerning natural law. Moreover, our\nposition that it is the well-spring of life, and that the intellect\nalone lays down laws for the wise, is plainly taught by the sage, for he\nsays (Prov. xiii. 14): \"The law of the wise is a fountain of life\"--that\nis, as we gather from the preceding text, the understanding. In chap.\niii. 13, he expressly teaches that the understanding renders man blessed\nand happy, and gives him true peace of mind. \"Happy is the man that\nfindeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding,\" for \"Wisdom\ngives length of days, and riches and honour; her ways are ways of\npleasantness, and all her paths peace\" (xiii. 16, 17). According to\nSolomon, therefore, it is only the wise who live in peace and\nequanimity, not like the wicked whose minds drift hither and thither,\nand (as Isaiah says, chap. lvii. 20) \"are like the troubled sea, for\nthem there is no peace.\"\n\nLastly, we should especially note the passage in chap. ii. of Solomon's\nproverbs which most clearly confirms our contention: \"If thou criest\nafter knowledge, and liftest up thy voice for understanding ... then\nshalt thou understand the fear of the Lord, and find the knowledge of\nGod; for the Lord giveth wisdom; out of His mouth cometh knowledge and\nunderstanding.\" These words clearly enunciate (1), that wisdom or\nintellect alone teaches us to fear God wisely--that is, to worship Him\ntruly; (2), that wisdom and knowledge flow from God's mouth, and that\nGod bestows on us this gift; this we have already shown in proving that\nour understanding and our knowledge depend on, spring from, and are\nperfected by the idea or knowledge of God, and nothing else. Solomon\ngoes on to say in so many words that this knowledge contains and\ninvolves the true principles of ethics and politics: \"When wisdom\nentereth into thy heart, and knowledge is pleasant to thy soul,\ndiscretion shall preserve thee, understanding shall keep thee, then\nshalt thou understand righteousness, and judgment, and equity, yea every\ngood path.\" All of which is in obvious agreement with natural knowledge:\nfor after we have come to the understanding of things, and have tasted\nthe excellence of knowledge, she teaches us ethics and true virtue.\n\nThus the happiness and the peace of him who cultivates his natural\nunderstanding lies, according to Solomon also, not so much under the\ndominion of fortune (or God's external aid) as in inward personal virtue\n(or God's internal aid), for the latter can to a great extent be\npreserved by vigilance, right action, and thought.\n\nLastly, we must by no means pass over the passage in Paul's Epistle to\nthe Romans (i. 20), in which he says: \"For the invisible things of God\nfrom the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the\nthings that are made, even His eternal power and Godhead; so that they\nare without excuse, because, when they knew God, they glorified Him not\nas God, neither were they thankful.\" These words clearly show that every\none can by the light of nature clearly understand the goodness and the\neternal divinity of God, and can thence know and deduce what they should\nseek for and what avoid; wherefore the Apostle says that they are\nwithout excuse and cannot plead ignorance, as they certainly might if it\nwere a question of supernatural light and the incarnation, passion,\nresurrection of Christ. \"Wherefore,\" he goes on to say (_ib._ 24), \"God\ngave them up to uncleanness through the lusts of their own hearts;\" and\nso on, through the rest of the chapter, he describes the vices of\nignorance, and sets them forth as the punishment of ignorance. This\nobviously agrees with the verse of Solomon, already quoted, \"The\ninstruction of fools is folly,\" so that it is easy to understand why\nPaul says that the wicked are without excuse. As every man sows so shall\nhe reap: out of evil, evils necessarily spring, unless they be wisely\ncounteracted.\n\nThus we see that Scripture literally approves of the light of natural\nreason and the natural Divine law, and I have fulfilled the promises\nmade at the beginning of this chapter.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[7] From the _Tr. Th.-P._, ch. iv, same title.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nOF THE CEREMONIAL LAW[8]\n\n\nIn the foregoing chapter we have shown that the Divine law, which\nrenders men truly blessed, and teaches them the true life, is universal\nto all men; nay, we have so intimately deduced it from human nature that\nit must be esteemed innate, and, as it were, ingrained in the human\nmind.\n\nBut with regard to the ceremonial observances which were ordained in the\nOld Testament for the Hebrews only, and were so adapted to their state\nthat they could for the most part only be observed by the society as a\nwhole and not by each individual, it is evident that they formed no part\nof the Divine law, and had nothing to do with blessedness and virtue,\nbut had reference only to the election of the Hebrews, that is (as I\nhave shown in Chapter IV), to their temporal bodily happiness and the\ntranquillity of their kingdom, and that therefore they were only valid\nwhile that kingdom lasted. If in the Old Testament they are spoken of as\nthe law of God, it is only because they were founded on revelation, or a\nbasis of revelation. Still as reason, however sound, has little weight\nwith ordinary theologians, I will adduce the authority of Scripture for\nwhat I here assert, and will further show, for the sake of greater\nclearness, why and how these ceremonials served to establish and\npreserve the Jewish kingdom. Isaiah teaches most plainly that the Divine\nlaw in its strict sense signifies that universal law which consists in a\ntrue manner of life, and does not signify ceremonial observances. In\nchapter i., verse 10, the prophet calls on his countrymen to hearken to\nthe Divine law as he delivers it, and first excluding all kinds of\nsacrifices and all feasts, he at length sums up the law in these few\nwords: \"Cease to do evil, learn to do well: seek judgment, relieve the\noppressed.\" Not less striking testimony is given in Psalm xl. 7-9, where\nthe Psalmist addresses God: \"Sacrifice and offering Thou didst not\ndesire; mine ears hast Thou opened; burnt offering and sin-offering hast\nThou not required; I delight to do Thy will, O my God; yea, Thy law is\nwithin my heart.\" Here the Psalmist reckons as the law of God only that\nwhich is inscribed in his heart, and excludes ceremonies therefrom, for\nthe latter are good and inscribed on the heart only from the fact of\ntheir institution, and not because of their intrinsic value.\n\nOther passages of Scripture testify to the same truth, but these two\nwill suffice. We may also learn from the Bible that ceremonies are no\naid to blessedness, but only have reference to the temporal prosperity\nof the kingdom; for the rewards promised for their observance are merely\ntemporal advantages and delights, blessedness being reserved for the\nuniversal Divine law. In all the five books commonly attributed to Moses\nnothing is promised, as I have said, beyond temporal benefits, such as\nhonors, fame, victories, riches, enjoyments, and health. Though many\nmoral precepts besides ceremonies are contained in these five books,\nthey appear not as moral doctrines universal to all men, but as commands\nespecially adapted to the understanding and character of the Hebrew\npeople, and as having reference only to the welfare of the kingdom. For\ninstance, Moses does not teach the Jews as a prophet not to kill or to\nsteal, but gives these commandments solely as a lawgiver and judge; he\ndoes not reason out the doctrine, but affixes for its non-observance a\npenalty which may and very properly does vary in different nations. So,\ntoo, the command not to commit adultery is given merely with reference\nto the welfare of the state; for if the moral doctrine had been\nintended, with reference not only to the welfare of the state, but also\nto the tranquillity and blessedness of the individual, Moses would have\ncondemned not merely the outward act, but also the mental acquiescence,\nas is done by Christ, Who taught only universal moral precepts, and for\nthis cause promises a spiritual instead of a temporal reward. Christ, as\nI have said, was sent into the world, not to preserve the state nor to\nlay down laws, but solely to teach the universal moral law, so we can\neasily understand that He wished in no wise to do away with the law of\nMoses, inasmuch as He introduced no new laws of His own--His sole care\nwas to teach moral doctrines, and distinguish them from the laws of the\nstate; for the Pharisees, in their ignorance, thought that the\nobservance of the state law and the Mosaic law was the sum total of\nmorality; whereas such laws merely had reference to the public welfare,\nand aimed not so much at instructing the Jews as at keeping them under\nconstraint. But let us return to our subject, and cite other passages\nof Scripture which set forth temporal benefits as rewards for observing\nthe ceremonial law, and blessedness as reward for the universal law.\n\nNone of the prophets puts the point more clearly than Isaiah. After\ncondemning hypocrisy, he commends liberty and charity towards oneself\nand one's neighbors, and promises as a reward: \"Then shall thy light\nbreak forth as the morning, and thy health shall spring forth speedily,\nthy righteousness shall go before thee, and the glory of the Lord shall\nbe thy reward\" (chap. lviii. 8). Shortly afterwards he commends the\nSabbath, and for a due observance of it promises: \"Then shalt thou\ndelight thyself in the Lord, and I will cause thee to ride upon the high\nplaces of the earth, and feed thee with the heritage of Jacob thy\nfather: for the mouth of the Lord has spoken it.\" Thus the prophet, for\nliberty bestowed and charitable works, promises a healthy mind in a\nhealthy body, and the glory of the Lord even after death; whereas, for\nceremonial exactitude, he only promises security of rule, prosperity,\nand temporal happiness.\n\n... It remains to show why and how the ceremonial observances tended to\npreserve and confirm the Hebrew kingdom; and this I can very briefly do\non grounds universally accepted.\n\nThe formation of society serves not only for defensive purposes, but is\nalso very useful, and, indeed, absolutely necessary, as rendering\npossible the division of labor. If men did not render mutual assistance\nto each other, no one would have either the skill or the time to provide\nfor his own sustenance and preservation: for all men are not equally\napt for all work, and no one would be capable of preparing all that he\nindividually stood in need of. Strength and time, I repeat, would fail,\nif every one had in person to plow, to sow, to reap, to grind corn, to\ncook, to weave, to stitch and perform the other numerous functions\nrequired to keep life going; to say nothing of the arts and sciences\nwhich are also entirely necessary to the perfection and blessedness of\nhuman nature. We see that peoples living in uncivilized barbarism lead a\nwretched and almost animal life, and even they would not be able to\nacquire their few rude necessaries without assisting one another to a\ncertain extent.\n\nNow if men were so constituted by nature that they desired nothing but\nwhat is designated by true reason, society would obviously have no need\nof laws: it would be sufficient to inculcate true moral doctrines; and\nmen would freely, without hesitation, act in accordance with their true\ninterests. But human nature is framed in a different fashion: every one,\nindeed, seeks his own interest, but does not do so in accordance with\nthe dictates of sound reason, for most men's ideas of desirability and\nusefulness are guided by their fleshly instincts and emotions, which\ntake no thought beyond the present and the immediate object. Therefore,\nno society can exist without government, and force, and laws to restrain\nand repress men's desires and immoderate impulses. Still human nature\nwill not submit to absolute repression. Violent governments, as Seneca\nsays, never last long; the moderate governments endure.\n\nSo long as men act simply from fear they act contrary to their\ninclinations, taking no thought for the advantages or necessity of their\nactions, but simply endeavoring to escape punishment or loss of life.\nThey must needs rejoice in any evil which befalls their ruler, even if\nit should involve themselves; and must long for and bring about such\nevil by every means in their power. Again, men are especially intolerant\nof serving and being ruled by their equals. Lastly, it is exceedingly\ndifficult to revoke liberties once granted.\n\nFrom these considerations it follows, firstly, that authority should\neither be vested in the hands of the whole state in common, so that\nevery one should be bound to serve, and yet not be in subjection to his\nequals; or else, if power be in the hands of a few, or one man, that one\nman should be something above average humanity, or should strive to get\nhimself accepted as such. Secondly, laws should in every government be\nso arranged that people should be kept in bounds by the hope of some\ngreatly desired good, rather than by fear, for then every one will do\nhis duty willingly.\n\nLastly, as obedience consists in acting at the bidding of external\nauthority, it would have no place in a state where the government is\nvested in the whole people, and where laws are made by common consent.\nIn such a society the people would remain free, whether the laws were\nadded to or diminished, inasmuch as it would not be done on external\nauthority, but their own free consent. The reverse happens when the\nsovereign power is vested in one man, for all act at his bidding; and,\ntherefore, unless they had been trained from the first to depend on the\nwords of their ruler, the latter would find it difficult, in case of\nneed, to abrogate liberties once conceded, and impose new laws.\n\nFrom these universal considerations, let us pass on to the kingdom of\nthe Jews. The Jews when they first came out of Egypt were not bound by\nany national laws, and were therefore free to ratify any laws they\nliked, or to make new ones, and were at liberty to set up a government\nand occupy a territory wherever they chose. However, they were entirely\nunfit to frame a wise code of laws and to keep the sovereign power\nvested in the community; they were all uncultivated and sunk in a\nwretched slavery, therefore the sovereignty was bound to remain vested\nin the hands of one man who would rule the rest and keep them under\nconstraint, make laws and interpret them. This sovereignty was easily\nretained by Moses, because he surpassed the rest in virtue and persuaded\nthe people of the fact, proving it by many testimonies (see Exod. chap.\nxiv., last verse, and chap. xix., verse 9). He then, by the Divine\nvirtue he possessed, made laws and ordained them for the people, taking\nthe greatest care that they should be obeyed willingly and not through\nfear, being specially induced to adopt this course by the obstinate\nnature of the Jews, who would not have submitted to be ruled solely by\nconstraint; and also by the imminence of war, for it is always better to\ninspire soldiers with a thirst for glory than to terrify them with\nthreats; each man will then strive to distinguish himself by valor and\ncourage, instead of merely trying to escape punishment. Moses,\ntherefore, by his virtue and the Divine command, introduced a religion\nso that the people might do their duty from devotion rather than fear.\nFurther, he bound them over by benefits, and prophesied many advantages\nin the future; nor were his laws very severe, as any one may see for\nhimself, especially if he remarks the number of circumstances necessary\nin order to procure the conviction of an accused person.\n\nLastly, in order that the people which could not govern itself should be\nentirely dependent on its ruler, he left nothing to the free choice of\nindividuals (who had hitherto been slaves); the people could do nothing\nbut remember the law, and follow the ordinances laid down at the good\npleasure of their ruler; they were not allowed to plow, to sow, to reap,\nnor even to eat; to clothe themselves, to shave, to rejoice, or, in\nfact, to do anything whatever as they liked, but were bound to follow\nthe directions given in the law; and not only this, but they were\nobliged to have marks on their doorposts, on their hands, and between\ntheir eyes to admonish them to perpetual obedience.\n\nThis, then, was the object of the ceremonial law, that men should do\nnothing of their own free will, but should always act under external\nauthority, and should continually confess by their actions and thoughts\nthat they were not their own masters, but were entirely under the\ncontrol of others.\n\nFrom all these considerations it is clearer than day that ceremonies\nhave nothing to do with a state of blessedness, and that those mentioned\nin the Old Testament, _i.e._, the whole Mosaic Law, had reference merely\nto the government of the Jews, and merely temporal advantages.\n\nAs for the Christian rites, such as baptism, the Lord's Supper,\nfestivals, public prayers, and any other observances which are, and\nalways have been, common to all Christendom, if they were instituted by\nChrist or His Apostles (which is open to doubt), they were instituted as\nexternal signs of the universal church, and not as having anything to do\nwith blessedness, or possessing any sanctity in themselves. Therefore,\nthough such ceremonies were not ordained for the sake of upholding a\ngovernment, they were ordained for the preservation of a society, and\naccordingly he who lives alone is not bound by them: nay, those who live\nin a country where the Christian religion is forbidden, are bound to\nabstain from such rites, and can none the less live in a state of\nblessedness. We have an example of this in Japan, where the Christian\nreligion is forbidden, and the Dutch who live there are enjoined by\ntheir East India Company not to practice any outward rites of religion.\nI need not cite other examples, though it would be easy to prove my\npoint from the fundamental principles of the New Testament, and to\nadduce many confirmatory instances; but I pass on the more willingly, as\nI am anxious to proceed to my next proposition. I will now, therefore,\npass on to what I proposed to treat of in the second part of this\nchapter, namely, what persons are bound to believe in the narratives\ncontained in Scripture, and how far they are so bound. Examining this\nquestion by the aid of natural reason, I will proceed as follows:\n\nIf any one wishes to persuade his fellows for or against anything which\nis not self-evident, he must deduce his contention from their\nadmissions, and convince them either by experience or by ratiocination;\neither by appealing to facts of natural experience, or to self-evident\nintellectual axioms. Now unless the experience be of such a kind as to\nbe clearly and distinctly understood, though it may convince a man, it\nwill not have the same effect on his mind and disperse the clouds of his\ndoubt so completely as when the doctrine taught is deduced entirely from\nintellectual axioms--that is, by the mere power of the understanding and\nlogical order, and this is especially the case in spiritual matters\nwhich have nothing to do with the senses.\n\nBut the deduction of conclusions from general truths _a priori_, usually\nrequires a long chain of arguments, and, moreover, very great caution,\nacuteness, and self-restraint--qualities which are not often met with;\ntherefore people prefer to be taught by experience rather than deduce\ntheir conclusion from a few axioms, and set them out in logical order.\nWhence it follows, that if any one wishes to teach a doctrine to a whole\nnation (not to speak of the whole human race), and to be understood by\nall men in every particular, he will seek to support his teaching with\nexperience, and will endeavor to suit his reasonings and the definitions\nof his doctrines as far as possible to the understanding of the common\npeople, who form the majority of mankind, and he will not set them forth\nin logical sequence nor adduce the definitions which serve to establish\nthem. Otherwise he writes only for the learned--that is, he will be\nunderstood by only a small proportion of the human race.\n\nAll Scripture was written primarily for an entire people, and\nsecondarily for the whole human race; therefore its contents must\nnecessarily be adapted as far as possible to the understanding of the\nmasses, and proved only by examples drawn from experience. We will\nexplain ourselves more clearly. The chief speculative doctrines taught\nin Scripture are the existence of God, or a Being Who made all things,\nand Who directs and sustains the world with consummate wisdom;\nfurthermore, that God takes the greatest thought for men, or such of\nthem as live piously and honorably, while He punishes, with various\npenalties, those who do evil, separating them from the good. All this is\nproved in Scripture entirely through experience--that is, through the\nnarratives there related. No definitions of doctrine are given, but all\nthe sayings and reasonings are adapted to the understanding of the\nmasses. Although experience can give no clear knowledge of these things,\nnor explain the nature of God, nor how He directs and sustains all\nthings, it can nevertheless teach and enlighten men sufficiently to\nimpress obedience and devotion on their minds.\n\nIt is not, I think, sufficiently clear what persons are bound to believe\nin the Scripture narratives, and in what degree they are so bound, for\nit evidently follows from what has been said that the knowledge of and\nbelief in them is particularly necessary to the masses whose intellect\nis not capable of perceiving things clearly and distinctly. Further, he\nwho denies them because he does not believe that God exists or takes\nthought for men and the world, may be accounted impious; but a man who\nis ignorant of them, and nevertheless shows by natural reason that God\nexists, as we have said, and has a true plan of life, is altogether\nblessed--yes, more blessed than the common herd of believers, because\nbesides true opinions he possesses also a true and distinct conception.\nLastly, he who is ignorant of the Scriptures and knows nothing by the\nlight of reason, though he may not be impious or rebellious, is yet less\nthan human and almost brutal, having none of God's gifts.\n\nWe must here remark that when we say that the knowledge of the sacred\nnarrative is particularly necessary to the masses, we do not mean the\nknowledge of absolutely all the narratives in the Bible, but only of the\nprincipal ones, those which, taken by themselves, plainly display the\ndoctrine we have just stated, and have most effect over men's minds.\n\nIf all the narratives in Scripture were necessary for the proof of this\ndoctrine, and if no conclusion could be drawn without the general\nconsideration of every one of the histories contained in the sacred\nwritings, truly the conclusion and demonstration of such doctrine would\novertask the understanding and strength not only of the masses, but of\nhumanity; who is there who could give attention to all the narratives at\nonce, and to all the circumstances, and all the scraps of doctrine to be\nelicited from such a host of diverse histories? I cannot believe that\nthe men who have left us the Bible as we have it were so abounding in\ntalent that they attempted setting about such a method of demonstration,\nstill less can I suppose that we cannot understand Scriptural doctrine\ntill we have given heed to the quarrels of Isaac, the advice of\nAchitophel to Absalom, the civil war between Jews and Israelites, and\nother similar chronicles; nor can I think that it was more difficult to\nteach such doctrine by means of history to the Jews of early times, the\ncontemporaries of Moses, than it was to the contemporaries of Esdras.\nBut more will be said on this point hereafter, we may now only note that\nthe masses are only bound to know those histories which can most\npowerfully dispose their mind to obedience and devotion. However, the\nmasses are not sufficiently skilled to draw conclusions from what they\nread, they take more delight in the actual stories, and in the strange\nand unlooked-for issues of events than in the doctrines implied;\ntherefore, besides reading these narratives, they are always in need of\npastors or church ministers to explain them to their feeble\nintelligence.\n\nBut not to wander from our point, let us conclude with what has been our\nprincipal object--namely, that the truth of narratives, be they what\nthey may, has nothing to do with the Divine law, and serves for nothing\nexcept in respect of doctrine, the sole element which makes one history\nbetter than another. The narratives in the Old and New Testaments\nsurpass profane history, and differ among themselves in merit simply by\nreason of the salutary doctrines which they inculcate. Therefore, if a\nman were to read the Scripture narratives believing the whole of them,\nbut were to give no heed to the doctrines they contain, and make no\namendment in his life, he might employ himself just as profitably in\nreading the Koran or the poetic drama, or ordinary chronicles, with the\nattention usually given to such writings; on the other hand, if a man is\nabsolutely ignorant of the Scriptures, and none the less has right\nopinions and a true plan of life, he is absolutely blessed and truly\npossesses in himself the spirit of Christ.\n\nThe Jews are of a directly contrary way of thinking, for they hold that\ntrue opinions and a true plan of life are of no service in attaining\nblessedness, if their possessors have arrived at them by the light of\nreason only, and not like the documents prophetically revealed to Moses.\nMaimonides ventures openly to make this assertion: \"Every man who takes\nto heart the seven precepts and diligently follows them, is counted with\nthe pious among the nations, and an heir of the world to come; that is\nto say, if he takes to heart and follows them because God ordained them\nin the law, and revealed them to us by Moses, because they were of\naforetime precepts to the sons of Noah: but he who follows them as lead\nthereto by reason, is not counted as a dweller among the pious, nor\namong the wise of the nations.\" Such are the words of Maimonides, to\nwhich R. Joseph, the son of Shem Job, adds in his book, which he calls\n_Kebod Elohim, or God's Glory_, that although Aristotle (whom he\nconsiders to have written the best ethics and to be above every one\nelse) has not omitted anything that concerns true ethics, and which he\nhas adopted in his own book, carefully following the lines laid down,\nyet this was not able to suffice for his salvation, inasmuch as he\nembraced his doctrines in accordance with the dictates of reason and not\nas Divine documents prophetically revealed.[9]\n\nHowever, that these are mere figments and are not supported by\nScriptural authority will, I think, be sufficiently evident to the\nattentive reader, so that an examination of the theory will be\nsufficient for its refutation. It is not my purpose here to refute the\nassertions of those who assert that the natural light of reason can\nteach nothing of any value concerning the true way of salvation. People\nwho lay no claims to reason for themselves are not able to prove by\nreason this their assertion; and if they hawk about something superior\nto reason, it is a mere figment, and far below reason, as their general\nmethod of life sufficiently shows. But there is no need to dwell upon\nsuch persons. I will merely add that we can only judge of a man by his\nworks. If a man abounds in the fruits of the Spirit, charity, joy,\npeace, long-suffering, kindness, goodness, faith, gentleness, chastity,\nagainst which, as Paul says (Gal. v. 22), there is no law, such an one,\nwhether he be taught by reason only or by the Scripture only, has been\nin very truth taught by God, and is altogether blessed. Thus have I said\nall that I undertook to say concerning Divine law.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[8] From the _Tr. Th.-P._, ch. v, same title.\n\n[9] The Jews were not, of course, alone in holding this point of view.\nDante consigned the ancient philosophers--including Aristotle--and even\nVergil to Limbo, agreeing thus in doctrine with Maimonides and R.\nJoseph, the son of Shem Job.--ED.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nOF MIRACLES[10]\n\n\nAs men are accustomed to call Divine the knowledge which transcends\nhuman understanding, so also do they style Divine, or the work of God,\nanything of which the cause is not generally known: for the masses think\nthat the power and providence of God are most clearly displayed by\nevents that are extraordinary and contrary to the conception they have\nformed of Nature, especially if such events bring them any profit or\nconvenience: they think that the clearest possible proof of God's\nexistence is afforded when Nature, as they suppose, breaks her\naccustomed order, and consequently they believe that those who explain\nor endeavor to understand phenomena or miracles through their natural\ncauses are doing away with God and His providence. They suppose,\nforsooth, that God is inactive so long as Nature works in her accustomed\norder, and _vice versa_, that the power of Nature and natural causes are\nidle so long as God is acting: thus they imagine two powers distinct one\nfrom the other, the power of God and the power of Nature, though the\nlatter is in a sense determined by God, or (as most people believe now)\ncreated by Him. What they mean by either, and what they understand by\nGod and Nature they do not know, except that they imagine the power of\nGod to be like that of some royal potentate, and Nature's power to\nconsist in force and energy.\n\nThe masses then style unusual phenomena \"miracles,\" and partly from\npiety, partly for the sake of opposing the students of science, prefer\nto remain in ignorance of natural causes, and only to hear of those\nthings which they know least, and consequently admire most. In fact, the\ncommon people can only adore God, and refer all things to His power by\nremoving natural causes, and conceiving things happening out of their\ndue course, and only admires the power of God when the power of Nature\nis conceived of as in subjection to it.\n\nThis idea seems to have taken its rise among the early Jews who saw the\nGentiles round them worshiping visible gods, such as the sun, the moon,\nthe earth, water, air, etc., and in order to inspire the conviction that\nsuch divinities were weak and inconstant, or changeable, told how they\nthemselves were under the sway of an invisible God, and narrated their\nmiracles, trying further to show that the God whom they worshiped\narranged the whole of nature for their sole benefit. This idea was so\npleasing to humanity that men go on to this day imagining miracles, so\nthat they may believe themselves God's favorites and the final cause for\nwhich God created and directs all things.\n\nWhat pretensions will not people in their folly advance! They have no\nsingle sound idea concerning either God or Nature, they confound God's\ndecrees with human decrees, they conceive Nature as so limited that\nthey believe man to be its chief part! I have spent enough space in\nsetting forth these common ideas and prejudices concerning Nature and\nmiracles, but in order to afford a regular demonstration I will show:\n\n1. That Nature cannot be contravened, but that she preserves a fixed and\nimmutable order, and at the same time I will explain what is meant by a\nmiracle.\n\n2. That God's nature and existence, and consequently His providence,\ncannot be known from miracles, but that they can all be much better\nperceived from the fixed and immutable order of Nature.\n\n3. That by the decrees and volitions, and consequently the providence of\nGod, Scripture (as I will prove by Scriptural examples) means nothing\nbut Nature's order following necessarily from her eternal laws.\n\n4. Lastly, I will treat of the method of interpreting Scriptural\nmiracles, and the chief points to be noted concerning the narratives of\nthem.\n\nSuch are the principal subjects which will be discussed in this chapter,\nand which will serve, I think, not a little to further the object of\nthis treatise.\n\nOur first point is easily proved from what we showed in Chapter V about\nDivine law--namely, that all that God wishes or determines involves\neternal necessity and truth, for we demonstrated that God's\nunderstanding is identical with His will, and that it is the same thing\nto say that God wills a thing, as to say that He understands it; hence,\nas it follows necessarily from the Divine nature and perfection that God\nunderstands a thing as it is, it follows no less necessarily that He\nwills it as it is. Now, as nothing is necessarily true save only by\nDivine decree, it is plain that the universal laws of Nature are decrees\nof God following from the necessity and perfection of the Divine nature.\nHence, any event happening in nature which contravened Nature's\nuniversal laws, would necessarily also contravene the Divine decree,\nnature, and understanding; or if any one asserted that God acts in\ncontravention to the laws of Nature, he, _ipso facto_, would be\ncompelled to assert that God acted against His own nature--an evident\nabsurdity. One might easily show from the same premises that the power\nand efficiency of Nature are in themselves the Divine power and\nefficiency, and that the Divine power is the very essence of God, but\nthis I gladly pass over for the present.\n\nNothing, then, comes to pass in Nature[11] in contravention to her\nuniversal laws, nay, everything agrees with them and follows from them,\nfor whatsoever comes to pass, comes to pass by the will and eternal\ndecree of God; that is, as we have just pointed out, whatever comes to\npass, comes to pass according to laws and rules which involve eternal\nnecessity and truth; Nature, therefore, always observes laws and rules\nwhich involve eternal necessity and truth, although they may not all be\nknown to us, and therefore she keeps a fixed and immutable order. Nor is\nthere any sound reason for limiting the power and efficacy of Nature,\nand asserting that her laws are fit for certain purposes, but not for\nall; for as the efficacy and power of Nature are the very efficacy and\npower of God, and as the laws and rules of Nature are the decrees of\nGod, it is in every way to be believed that the power of Nature is\ninfinite, and that her laws are broad enough to embrace everything\nconceived by the Divine intellect. The only alternative is to assert\nthat God has created Nature so weak, and has ordained for her laws so\nbarren, that He is repeatedly compelled to come afresh to her aid if He\nwishes that she should be preserved, and that things should happen as He\ndesires: a conclusion, in my opinion, very far removed from reason.\nFurther, as nothing happens in Nature which does not follow from her\nlaws, and as her laws embrace everything conceived by the Divine\nintellect, and, lastly, as Nature preserves a fixed and immutable order,\nit most clearly follows that miracles are only intelligible as in\nrelation to human opinions, and merely mean events of which the natural\ncause cannot be explained by a reference to any ordinary occurrence,\neither by us, or at any rate by the writer and narrator of the miracle.\n\nWe may, in fact, say that a miracle is an event of which the causes\ncannot be explained by the natural reason through a reference to\nascertained workings of Nature; but since miracles were wrought\naccording to the understanding of the masses, who are wholly ignorant of\nthe workings of Nature, it is certain that the ancients took for a\nmiracle whatever they could not explain by the method adopted by the\nunlearned in such cases, namely, an appeal to the memory, a recalling of\nsomething similar, which is ordinarily regarded without wonder; for most\npeople think they sufficiently understand a thing when they have ceased\nto wonder at it. The ancients, then, and indeed most men up to the\npresent day, had no other criterion for a miracle; hence we cannot doubt\nthat many things are narrated in Scripture as miracles of which the\ncauses could easily be explained by reference to ascertained workings of\nNature. We have hinted as much in Chapter III, in speaking of the sun\nstanding still in the time of Joshua, and going backwards in the time of\nAhaz; but we shall soon have more to say on the subject when we come to\ntreat of the interpretation of miracles later on in this chapter.\n\nIt is now time to pass on to the second point, and show that we cannot\ngain an understanding of God's essence, existence, or providence by\nmeans of miracles, but that these truths are much better perceived\nthrough the fixed and immutable order of Nature.\n\nI thus proceed with the demonstration. As God's existence is not\nself-evident, it must necessarily be inferred from ideas so firmly and\nincontrovertibly true that no power can be postulated or conceived\nsufficient to impugn them. They ought certainly so to appear to us when\nwe infer from them God's existence, if we wish to place our conclusion\nbeyond the reach of doubt; for if we could conceive that such ideas\ncould be impugned by any power whatsoever, we should doubt of their\ntruth, we should doubt of our conclusion, namely, of God's existence,\nand should never be able to be certain of anything. Further, we know\nthat nothing either agrees with or is contrary to Nature, unless it\nagrees with or is contrary to these primary ideas; wherefore if we would\nconceive that anything could be done in Nature by any power whatsoever\nwhich would be contrary to the laws of Nature, it would also be\ncontrary to our primary ideas, and we should have either to reject it as\nabsurd, or else to cast doubt (as just shown) on our primary ideas, and\nconsequently on the existence of God, and on everything howsoever\nperceived. Therefore miracles, in the sense of events contrary to the\nlaws of Nature, so far from demonstrating to us the existence of God,\nwould, on the contrary, lead us to doubt it, where, otherwise, we might\nhave been absolutely certain of it, as knowing that Nature follows a\nfixed and immutable order.\n\nLet us take miracle as meaning that which cannot be explained through\nnatural causes. This may be interpreted in two senses: either as that\nwhich has natural causes, but cannot be examined by the human intellect;\nor as that which has no cause save God and God's will. But as all things\nwhich come to pass through natural causes come to pass also solely\nthrough the will and power of God, it comes to this: that a miracle,\nwhether it has natural causes or not, is a result which cannot be\nexplained by its cause, that is a phenomenon which surpasses human\nunderstanding; but from such a phenomenon, and certainly from a result\nsurpassing our understanding, we can gain no knowledge. For whatsoever\nwe understand clearly and distinctly should be plain to us either in\nitself or by means of something else clearly and distinctly understood;\nwherefore from a miracle or a phenomenon which we cannot understand we\ncan gain no knowledge of God's essence, or existence, or indeed anything\nabout God or nature; whereas when we know that all things are ordained\nand ratified by God, that the operations of Nature follow from the\nessence of God, and that the laws of Nature are eternal decrees and\nvolitions of God, we must perforce conclude that our knowledge of God\nand of God's will increases in proportion to our knowledge and clear\nunderstanding of Nature, as we see how she depends on her primal cause,\nand how she works according to eternal law. Wherefore so far as our\nunderstanding goes, those phenomena which we clearly and distinctly\nunderstand have much better right to be called works of God, and to be\nreferred to the will of God than those about which we are entirely\nignorant, although they appeal powerfully to the imagination, and compel\nmen's admiration.\n\nIt is only phenomena that we clearly and distinctly understand which\nheighten our knowledge of God and most clearly indicate His will and\ndecrees. Plainly, they are but triflers who, when they cannot explain a\nthing, run back to the will of God; this is, truly, a ridiculous way of\nexpressing ignorance. Again, even supposing that some conclusion could\nbe drawn from miracles, we could not possibly infer from them the\nexistence of God; for a miracle being an event under limitations is the\nexpression of a fixed and limited power, therefore we could not possibly\ninfer from an effect of this kind the existence of a cause whose power\nis infinite, but at the utmost only of a cause whose power is greater\nthan that of the said effect. I say at the utmost, for a phenomenon may\nbe the result of many concurrent causes, and its power may be less than\nthe power of the sum of such causes, but far greater than that of any\none of them taken individually. On the other hand, the laws of nature,\nas we have shown, extend over infinity, and are conceived by us as,\nafter a fashion, eternal, and Nature works in accordance with them in a\nfixed and immutable order; therefore, such laws indicate to us in a\ncertain degree the infinity, the eternity and the immutability of God.\n\nWe may conclude, then, that we cannot gain knowledge of the existence\nand providence of God by means of miracles, but that we can far better\ninfer them from the fixed and immutable order of Nature. By miracle I\nhere mean an event which surpasses, or is thought to surpass, human\ncomprehension: for in so far as it is supposed to destroy or interrupt\nthe order of Nature or her laws, it not only can give us no knowledge of\nGod, but, contrariwise, takes away that which we naturally have, and\nmakes us doubt of God and everything else.\n\nNeither do I recognize any difference between an event against the laws\nof Nature and an event beyond the laws of Nature (that is, according to\nsome, an event which does not contravene Nature, though she is\ninadequate to produce or effect it), for a miracle is wrought in, and\nnot beyond Nature, though it may be said in itself to be above Nature,\nand, therefore, must necessarily interrupt the order of Nature, which\notherwise we conceive of as fixed and unchangeable, according to God's\ndecrees. If therefore anything should come to pass in Nature which does\nnot follow from her laws, it would also be in contravention to the order\nwhich God has established in Nature forever through universal natural\nlaws. It would, therefore, be in contravention to God's nature and laws,\nand, consequently belief in it would throw doubt upon everything, and\nlead to Atheism.\n\nI think I have now sufficiently established my second point, so that we\ncan again conclude that a miracle, whether in contravention to, or\nbeyond, Nature, is a mere absurdity; and therefore that what is meant in\nScripture by a miracle can only be a work of Nature, which surpasses, or\nis believed to surpass, human comprehension. Before passing on to my\nthird point, I will adduce Scriptural authority for my assertion that\nGod cannot be known from miracles. Scripture nowhere states the doctrine\nopenly, but it can readily be inferred from several passages. Firstly,\nthat in which Moses commands (Deut. xiii.) that a false prophet should\nbe put to death, even though he work miracles: \"If there arise a prophet\namong you, and giveth thee a sign or wonder, and the sign or wonder come\nto pass, saying, Let us go after other gods ... thou shalt not hearken\nunto the voice of that prophet; for the Lord your God proveth you, and\nthat prophet shall be put to death.\" From this it clearly follows that\nmiracles could be wrought even by false prophets; and that, unless men\nare honestly endowed with the true knowledge and love of God, they may\nbe as easily led by miracles to follow false gods as to follow the true\nGod; for these words are added: \"For the Lord your God tempts you, that\nHe may know whether you love Him with all your heart and with all your\nmind.\"\n\nFurther, the Israelites, from all their miracles, were unable to form a\nsound conception of God, as their experience testified: for when they\nhad persuaded themselves that Moses had departed from among them they\npetitioned Aaron to give them visible gods; and the idea of God they had\nformed as the result of all their miracles was a calf!...\n\nI now go on to my _third_ point, and show from Scripture that the\ndecrees and mandates of God, and consequently His providence, are merely\nthe order of Nature--that is, when Scripture describes an event as\naccomplished by God or God's will, we must understand merely that it was\nin accordance with the law and order of Nature, not, as most people\nbelieve, that Nature had for a season ceased to act, or that her order\nwas temporarily interrupted. But Scripture does not directly teach\nmatters unconnected with its doctrine, wherefore it has no care to\nexplain things by their natural causes, nor to expound matters merely\nspeculative. Wherefore our conclusion must be gathered by inference from\nthose Scriptural narratives which happen to be written more at length\nand circumstantially than usual. Of these I will cite a few.\n\nIn the first book of Samuel (ix. 15, 16), it is related that God\nrevealed to Samuel that He would send Saul to him, yet God did not send\nSaul to Samuel as people are wont to send one man to another. His\n\"sending\" was merely the ordinary course of Nature. Saul was looking for\nthe asses he had lost, and was meditating a return home without them,\nwhen, at the suggestion of his servant, he went to the Prophet Samuel,\nto learn from him where he might find them. From no part of the\nnarrative does it appear that Saul had any command from God to visit\nSamuel beyond this natural motive....\n\nBut perhaps some one will insist that we find many things in Scripture\nwhich seem in nowise explicable by natural causes, as, for instance,\nthat the sins of men and their prayers can be the cause of rain and of\nthe earth's fertility, or that faith can heal the blind, and so on. But\nI think I have already made sufficient answer: I have shown that\nScripture does not explain things by their secondary causes, but only\nnarrates them in the order and the style which has most power to move\nmen, and especially uneducated men, to devotion; and therefore it speaks\ninaccurately of God and of events, seeing that its object is not to\nconvince the reason, but to attract and lay hold of the imagination. If\nthe Bible were to describe the destruction of an empire in the style of\npolitical historians, the masses would remain unstirred, whereas the\ncontrary is the case when it adopts the method of poetic description,\nand refers all things immediately to God. When, therefore, the Bible\nsays that the earth is barren because of men's sins, or that the blind\nwere healed by faith, we ought to take no more notice than when it says\nthat God is angry at men's sins, that He is sad, that He repents of the\ngood He has promised and done; or that on seeing a sign He remembers\nsomething He had promised, and other similar expressions, which are\neither thrown out poetically or related according to the opinion and\nprejudices of the writer.\n\nWe may then be absolutely certain that every event which is truly\ndescribed in Scripture necessarily happened, like everything else,\naccording to natural laws; and if anything is there set down which can\nbe proved in set terms to contravene the order of Nature, or not to be\ndeducible therefrom, we must believe it to have been foisted into the\nsacred writings by irreligious hands; for whatsoever is contrary to\nNature is also contrary to reason, and whatsoever is contrary to reason\nis absurd, and, _ipso facto_, to be rejected.\n\nThere remain some points concerning the interpretation of miracles to be\nnoted, or rather to be recapitulated, for most of them have been already\nstated. These I proceed to discuss in the fourth division of my subject,\nand I am led to do so lest any one should, by wrongly interpreting a\nmiracle, rashly suspect that he has found something in Scripture\ncontrary to human reason.\n\nIt is very rare for men to relate an event simply as it happened,\nwithout adding any element of their own judgment. When they hear or see\nanything new, they are, unless strictly on their guard, so occupied with\ntheir own preconceived opinions that they perceive something quite\ndifferent from the plain facts seen or heard, especially if such facts\nsurpass the comprehension of the beholder or hearer, and, most of all,\nif he is interested in their happening in a given way.\n\nThus men relate in chronicles and histories their own opinions rather\nthan actual events, so that one and the same event is so differently\nrelated by two men of different opinions, that it seems like two\nseparate occurrences; and, further, it is very easy from historical\nchronicles to gather the personal opinions of the historian.\n\nI could cite many instances in proof of this from the writings both of\nnatural philosophers and historians, but I will content myself with one\nonly from Scripture, and leave the reader to judge of the rest.\n\nIn the time of Joshua the Hebrews held the ordinary opinion that the sun\nmoves with a daily motion, and that the earth remains at rest; to this\npreconceived opinion they adapted the miracle which occurred during\ntheir battle with the five kings. They did not simply relate that that\nday was longer than usual, but asserted that the sun and moon stood\nstill, or ceased from their motion--a statement which would be of great\nservice to them at that time in convincing and proving by experience to\nthe Gentiles, who worshiped the sun, that the sun was under the control\nof another deity who could compel it to change its daily course. Thus,\npartly through religious motives, partly through preconceived opinions,\nthey conceived of and related the occurrence as something quite\ndifferent from what really happened.\n\nThus in order to interpret the Scriptural miracles and understand from\nthe narration of them how they really happened, it is necessary to know\nthe opinions of those who first related them, and have recorded them for\nus in writing, and to distinguish such opinions from the actual\nimpression made upon their senses, otherwise we shall confound opinions\nand judgments with the actual miracle as it really occurred; nay,\nfurther, we shall confound actual events with symbolical and imaginary\nones. For many things are narrated in Scripture as real, and were\nbelieved to be real, which were in fact only symbolical and imaginary.\nAs, for instance, that God came down from heaven (Exod. xix. 28, Deut.\nv. 28), and that Mount Sinai smoked because God descended upon it\nsurrounded with fire; or, again, that Elijah ascended into heaven in a\nchariot of fire, with horses of fire; all these things were assuredly\nmerely symbols adapted to the opinions of those who have handed them\ndown to us as they were represented to them, namely, as real. All who\nhave any education know that God has no right hand nor left; that He is\nnot moved nor at rest, nor in a particular place, but that He is\nabsolutely infinite and contains in Himself all perfections.\n\nThese things, I repeat, are known to whoever judges of things by the\nperception of pure reason, and not according as his imagination is\naffected by his outward senses,--following the example of the masses who\nimagine a bodily Deity, holding a royal court with a throne on the\nconvexity of heaven, above the stars, which are believed to be not very\nfar off from the earth.\n\nTo these and similar opinions very many narrations in Scripture are\nadapted, and should not, therefore, be mistaken by philosophers for\nrealities.\n\nLastly, in order to understand, in the case of miracles, what actually\ntook place, we ought to be familiar with Jewish phrases and metaphors;\nany one who did not make sufficient allowance for these would be\ncontinually seeing miracles in Scripture where nothing of the kind is\nintended by the writer; he would thus miss the knowledge not only of\nwhat actually happened, but also of the mind of the writers of the\nsacred text. For instance, Zachariah, speaking of some future war, says\n(chap, xiv., verse 7): \"It shall be one day which shall be known to the\nLord, not day nor night; but at even time it shall be light.\" In these\nwords he seems to predict a great miracle, yet he only means that the\nbattle will be doubtful the whole day, that the issue will be known only\nto God, but that in the evening they will gain the victory. The\nprophets frequently used to predict victories and defeats of the nations\nin similar phrases. Thus Isaiah, describing the destruction of Babylon,\nsays (chap. xiii.): \"The stars of heaven, and the constellations\nthereof, shall not give their light; the sun shall be darkened in his\ngoing forth, and the moon shall not cause her light to shine.\" Now I\nsuppose no one imagines that at the destruction of Babylon these\nphenomena actually occurred any more than that which the prophet adds,\n\"For I will make the heavens to tremble, and remove the earth out of her\nplace.\"\n\nSo, too, Isaiah in foretelling to the Jews that they would return from\nBabylon to Jerusalem in safety, and would not suffer from thirst on\ntheir journey, says: \"And they thirsted not when He led them through the\ndeserts; He caused the waters to flow out of the rocks for them; He\nclave the rocks, and the waters gushed out.\" These words merely mean\nthat the Jews, like other people, found springs in the desert, at which\nthey quenched their thirst; for when the Jews returned to Jerusalem with\nthe consent of Cyrus, it is admitted that no similar miracles befell\nthem.\n\nIn this way many occurrences in the Bible are to be regarded merely as\nJewish expressions. There is no need for me to go through them in\ndetail; but I will call attention generally to the fact that the Jews\nemployed such phrases not only rhetorically, but also, and indeed\nchiefly, from devotional motives. Such is the reason for the\nsubstitution of \"bless God\" for \"curse God\" (in 1 Kings xxi. 10, and Job\nii. 9), and for all things being referred to God, whence it appears\nthat the Bible seems to relate nothing but miracles, even when speaking\nof the most ordinary occurrences, as in the examples given above.\n\nHence we must believe that when the Bible says that the Lord hardened\nPharaoh's heart, it only means that Pharaoh was obstinate; when it says\nthat God opened the windows of heaven, it only means that it rained very\nhard, and so on. When we reflect on these peculiarities, and also on the\nfact that most things are related very shortly, with very little detail,\nand almost in abridgments, we shall see that there is hardly anything in\nScripture which can be proved contrary to natural reason, while, on the\nother hand, many things which before seemed obscure, will after a little\nconsideration be understood and easily explained.\n\nI think I have now very clearly explained all that I proposed to\nexplain, but before I finish this chapter I would call attention to the\nfact that I have adopted a different method in speaking of miracles to\nthat which I employed in treating of prophecy. Of prophecy I have\nasserted nothing which could not be inferred from premises revealed in\nScripture, whereas in this chapter I have deduced my conclusions solely\nfrom the principles ascertained by the natural light of reason. I have\nproceeded in this way advisedly, for prophecy, in that it surpasses\nhuman knowledge, is a purely theological question; therefore, I knew\nthat I could not make any assertions about it, nor learn wherein it\nconsists, except through deductions from premises that have been\nrevealed; therefore I was compelled to collate the history of prophecy,\nand to draw therefrom certain conclusions which would teach me, in so\nfar as such teaching is possible, the nature and properties of the\ngift. But in the case of miracles, as our inquiry is a question purely\nphilosophical (namely, whether anything can happen which contravenes, or\ndoes not follow from the laws of Nature), I was not under any such\nnecessity: I therefore thought it wiser to unravel the difficulty\nthrough premises ascertained and thoroughly known by the natural light\nof reason. I say I thought it wiser, for I could also easily have solved\nthe problem merely from the doctrines and fundamental principles of\nScripture: in order that every one may acknowledge this, I will briefly\nshow how it could be done.\n\nScripture makes the general assertion in several passages that nature's\ncourse is fixed and unchangeable. (In Ps. cxlviii. 6, for instance, and\nJer. xxxi. 35.) The wise man also (in Eccles. i. 10) distinctly teaches\nthat \"there is nothing new under the sun,\" and (in verses 11, 12),\nillustrating the same idea, he adds that although something occasionally\nhappens which seems new, it is not really new, but \"hath been already of\nold time, which was before us, whereof there is no remembrance, neither\nshall there be any remembrance of things that are to come with those\nthat come after.\" Again (in chap. iii. 11), he says, \"God hath made\neverything beautiful in his time,\" and immediately afterwards adds, \"I\nknow that whatsoever God doeth, it shall be for ever; nothing can be put\nto it, nor anything taken from it.\"\n\nNow all these texts teach most distinctly that Nature preserves a fixed\nand unchangeable order and that God in all ages known and unknown has\nbeen the same; further, that the laws of Nature are so perfect that\nnothing can be added thereto nor taken therefrom; and, lastly, that\nmiracles only appear as something new because of man's ignorance.\n\nSuch is the express teaching of Scripture. Nowhere does Scripture assert\nthat anything happens which contradicts, or cannot follow from the laws\nof Nature; and therefore we should not attribute to it such a\ndoctrine....\n\nThe conclusion, then, that is most plainly put before us is, that\nmiracles were natural occurrences, and must therefore be so explained as\nto appear neither new (in the words of Solomon) nor contrary to Nature,\nbut, as far as possible, in complete agreement with ordinary events.\nThis can easily be done by any one, now that I have set forth the rules\ndrawn from Scripture. Nevertheless, though I maintain that Scripture\nteaches this doctrine, I do not assert that it teaches it as a truth\nnecessary to salvation, but only that the prophets were in agreement\nwith ourselves on the point; therefore every one is free to think on the\nsubject as he likes, according as he thinks it best for himself, and\nmost likely to conduce to the worship of God and to single-hearted\nreligion.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[10] From the _Tr. Th.-P._, ch. vi, same title.\n\n[11] N.B. I do not mean here by \"Nature,\" merely matter and its\nmodifications, but infinite other things besides matter.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nOF THE DIVINE NATURE\n\n\n_Definitions_\n\nI. By cause of itself, I understand that, whose essence involves\nexistence; or that, whose nature cannot be conceived unless existing.\n\nII. That thing is called finite in its own kind (_in suo genere_) which\ncan be limited by another thing of the same nature. For example, a body\nis called finite, because we always conceive another which is greater.\nSo a thought is limited by another thought; but a body is not limited by\na thought, nor a thought by a body.\n\nIII. By substance, I understand that which is in itself and is conceived\nthrough itself; in other words, that, the conception of which does not\nneed the conception of another thing from which it must be formed.\n\nIV. By attribute, I understand that which the intellect perceives of\nsubstance, as constituting its essence.\n\nV. By mode, I understand the affections of substance, or that which is\nin another thing through which also it is conceived.\n\nVI. By God, I understand Being absolutely infinite, that is to say,\nsubstance consisting of infinite attributes, each one of which expresses\neternal and infinite essence.\n\n_Explanation._--I say absolutely infinite but not infinite in its own\nkind (_in suo genere_); for of whatever is infinite only in its own kind\n(_in suo genere_), we can deny infinite attributes; but to the essence\nof that which is absolutely infinite pertains whatever expresses essence\nand involves no negation.\n\nVII. That thing is called free which exists from the necessity of its\nown nature alone, and is determined to action by itself alone. That\nthing, on the other hand, is called necessary, or rather compelled,\nwhich by another is determined to existence and action in a fixed and\nprescribed manner.\n\nVIII. By eternity, I understand existence itself, so far as it is\nconceived necessarily to follow from the definition alone of the eternal\nthing.\n\n_Explanation._--For such existence, like the essence of the thing, is\nconceived as an eternal truth. It cannot therefore be explained by\nduration of time, even if the duration be conceived without beginning or\nend.\n\n\n_Axioms_\n\nI. Everything which is, is either in itself or in another.\n\nII. That which cannot be conceived through another must be conceived\nthrough itself.\n\nIII. From a given determinate cause an effect necessarily follows; and,\non the other hand, if no determinate cause be given, it is impossible\nthat an effect can follow.\n\nIV. The knowledge (cognitio) of an effect depends upon and involves the\nknowledge of the cause.\n\nV. Those things which have nothing mutually in common with one another\ncannot through one another be mutually understood, that is to say, the\nconception of the one does not involve the conception of the other.\n\nVI. A true idea must agree with that of which it is the idea (_cum suo\nideato_).\n\nVII. The essence of that thing which can be conceived as not existing\ndoes not involve existence.\n\n\n_The Essence of God_\n\nGod, or substance consisting of infinite attributes, each one of which\nexpresses eternal and infinite essence, necessarily exists.\n\n[This can be proved in the following manner]:\n\nFor the existence or non-existence of everything there must be a reason\nor cause. For example, if a triangle exists, there must be a reason or\ncause why it exists; and if it does not exist, there must be a reason or\ncause which hinders its existence or which negates it. But this reason\nor cause must either be contained in the nature of the thing or lie\noutside it. For example, the nature of the thing itself shows the reason\nwhy a square circle does not exist, the reason being that a square\ncircle involves a contradiction. And the reason, on the other hand, why\nsubstance exists follows from its nature alone, which involves\nexistence. But the reason why a circle or triangle exists or does not\nexist is not drawn from their nature, but from the order of corporeal\nnature generally; for from that it must follow either that a triangle\nnecessarily exists, or that it is impossible for it to exist. But this\nis self-evident. Therefore it follows that if there be no cause nor\nreason which hinders a thing from existing, it exists necessarily. If\ntherefore there be no reason nor cause which hinders God from existing,\nor which negates His existence, we must conclude absolutely that He\nnecessarily exists. But if there be such a reason or cause, it must be\neither in the nature itself of God or must lie outside it, that is to\nsay, in another substance of another nature. For if the reason lay in a\nsubstance of the same nature, the existence of God would be by this very\nfact admitted. But substance possessing another nature could have\nnothing in common with God, and therefore could not give Him existence\nnor negate it. Since, therefore, the reason or cause which could negate\nthe divine existence cannot be outside the divine nature, it will\nnecessarily, supposing that the divine nature does not exist, be in His\nnature itself, which would therefore involve a contradiction. But to\naffirm this of the Being absolutely infinite and consummately perfect is\nabsurd. Therefore neither in God nor outside God is there any cause or\nreason which can negate His existence, and therefore God necessarily\nexists....\n\n\n_The Corporeality of God_\n\nThere are those who imagine God to be like a man, composed of body and\nsoul and subject to passions; but it is clear enough from what has\nalready been demonstrated how far off men who believe this are from the\ntrue knowledge of God. But these I dismiss, for all men who have in any\nway looked into the divine nature deny that God is corporeal. That He\ncannot be so they conclusively prove by showing that by \"body\" we\nunderstand a certain quantity possessing length, breadth, and depth,\nlimited by some fixed form; and that to attribute these to God, a being\nabsolutely infinite, is the greatest absurdity. But yet at the same\ntime, from other arguments by which they endeavor to confirm their\nproof, they clearly show that they remove altogether from the divine\nnature substance itself corporeal or extended, affirming that it was\ncreated by God. By what divine power, however, it could have been\ncreated they are altogether ignorant, so that it is clear they do not\nunderstand what they themselves say....\n\n              B\n             /\n            /\n           /\n          A\n           \\\n            \\\n             \\\n              \\\n               C\n\nBut I will refute my adversaries' arguments, which, taken altogether,\ncome to this. First, that corporeal substance, in so far as it is\nsubstance, consists, as they suppose, of parts, and therefore they deny\nthat it can be infinite, and consequently that it can pertain to God.\nThis they illustrate by many examples, one or two of which I will\nadduce. If corporeal substance, they say, be infinite, let us conceive\nit to be divided into two parts; each part, therefore, will be either\nfinite or infinite. If each part be finite, then the infinite is\ncomposed of two finite parts, which is absurd. If each part be infinite,\nthere is then an infinite twice as great as another infinite, which is\nalso absurd. Again, if infinite quantity be measured by equal parts of a\nfoot each, it must contain an infinite number of such parts, and\nsimilarly if it be measured by equal parts of an inch each; and\ntherefore one infinite number will be twelve times greater than another\ninfinite number. Lastly, if from one point of any infinite quantity it\nbe imagined that two lines, AB, AC, which at first are at a certain and\ndeterminate distance from one another, be infinitely extended, it is\nplain that the distance between B and C will be continually increased,\nand at length from being determinate will be indeterminable. Since\ntherefore these absurdities follow, as they think, from supposing\nquantity to be infinite, they conclude that corporeal substance must be\nfinite, and consequently cannot pertain to the essence of God. A second\nargument is assumed from the absolute perfection of God. For God, they\nsay, since He is a being absolutely perfect, cannot suffer; but\ncorporeal substance, since it is divisible, can suffer: it follows,\ntherefore, that it does not pertain to God's essence.\n\nThese are the arguments which I find in authors, by which they endeavor\nto show that corporeal substance is unworthy of the divine nature, and\ncannot pertain to it.... If any one will rightly consider the matter, he\nwill see that all these absurdities (supposing that they are all\nabsurdities, a point which I will now take for granted), from which\nthese authors attempt to draw the conclusion that substance extended is\nfinite, do not by any means follow from the supposition that quantity is\ninfinite, but from the supposition that infinite quantity is measurable,\nand that it is made up of finite parts. Therefore, from the absurdities\nto which this leads nothing can be concluded, excepting that infinite\nquantity is not measurable, and that it cannot be composed of finite\nparts. But this is what we [maintain].\n\n... The shaft therefore which is aimed at us turns against those who\ncast it. If, therefore, from these absurdities any one should attempt to\nconclude that substance extended must be finite, he would, forsooth, be\nin the position of the man who supposes a circle to have the properties\nof a square, and then concludes that it has no center, such that all the\nlines drawn from it to the circumference are equal. For corporeal\nsubstance, which cannot be conceived except as infinite, one and\nindivisible, is conceived by those against whom I argue to be composed\nof finite parts, and to be multiplex and divisible, in order that they\nmay prove it finite. Just in the same way others, after they have\nimagined a line to consist of points, know how to discover many\narguments, by which they show that a line cannot be divided _ad\ninfinitum_; and indeed it is not less absurd to suppose that corporeal\nsubstance is composed of bodies or parts than to suppose that a body is\ncomposed of surfaces, surfaces of lines, and that lines, finally, are\ncomposed of points. Every one who knows that clear reason is infallible\nought to admit this, and especially those who deny that a vacuum can\nexist. For if corporeal substance could be so divided that its parts\ncould be really distinct, why could not one part be annihilated, the\nrest remaining, as before, connected with one another? And why must all\nbe so fitted together that there can be no vacuum? For of things which\nare really distinct the one from the other, one can be and remain in its\nown position without the other. Since therefore it is supposed that\nthere is no vacuum in Nature (about which I will speak at another time),\nbut that all the parts must be united, so that no vacuum can exist, it\nfollows that they cannot be really separated; that is to say, that\ncorporeal substance, in so far as it is substance, cannot be divided.\n\nIf, nevertheless, any one should now ask why there is a natural tendency\nto consider quantity as capable of division, I reply that quantity is\nconceived by us in two ways: either abstractly or superficially; that is\nto say, as we imagine it, or else as substance, in which way it is\nconceived by the intellect alone. If, therefore, we regard quantity (as\nwe do very often and easily) as it exists in the imagination, we find it\nto be finite, divisible, and composed of parts; but if we regard it as\nit exists in the intellect, and conceive it in so far as it is\nsubstance, which is very difficult, then, as we have already\nsufficiently demonstrated, we find it to be infinite, one, and\nindivisible.\n\nThis will be plain enough to all who know how to distinguish between the\nimagination and the intellect, and more especially if we remember that\nmatter is everywhere the same, and that, except in so far as we regard\nit as affected in different ways, parts are not distinguished in it;\nthat is to say, they are distinguished with regard to mode, but not with\nregard to reality. For example, we conceive water as being divided, in\nso far as it is water, and that its parts are separated from one\nanother; but in so far as it is corporeal substance we cannot thus\nconceive it, for as such it is neither separated nor divided. Moreover,\nwater, in so far as it is water, is originated and destroyed; but in so\nfar as it is substance, it is neither originated nor destroyed.\n\nBy this reasoning I think that I have also answered the second argument,\nsince that too is based upon the assumption that matter, considered as\nsubstance, is divisible and composed of parts. And even if what I have\nurged were not true, I do not know why matter should be unworthy of the\ndivine nature, since outside God no substance can exist from which the\ndivine nature could suffer. All things, I say, are in God, and\neverything which takes place by the laws alone of the infinite nature of\nGod, and follows (as I shall presently show) from the necessity of His\nessence. Therefore in no way whatever can it be asserted that God\nsuffers from anything, or that substance extended, even if it be\nsupposed divisible, is unworthy of the divine nature, provided only it\nbe allowed that it is eternal and infinite.... Whatever is, is in God,\nand nothing can either be or be conceived without God.\n\n\n_The Properties of God_\n\nI\n\nFrom the necessity of the divine nature infinite numbers of things in\ninfinite ways (that is to say, all things which can be conceived by the\ninfinite intellect) must follow.\n\nThis proposition must be plain to every one who considers that from the\ngiven definition of anything a number of properties necessarily\nfollowing from it (that is to say, following from the essence of the\nthing itself) are inferred by the intellect, and just in proportion as\nthe definition of the thing expresses a greater reality, that is to say,\njust in proportion as the essence of the thing defined involves a\ngreater reality, will more properties be inferred. But the divine nature\npossesses absolutely infinite attributes (Def. 6), each one of which\nexpresses infinite essence in its own kind (_in suo genere_), and\ntherefore, from the necessity of the divine nature, infinite numbers of\nthings in infinite ways (that is to say, all things which can be\nconceived by the infinite intellect) must necessarily follow. Hence it\nfollows that God is the efficient cause of all things which can fall\nunder the infinite intellect. It follows, secondly, that God is cause\nthrough Himself, and not through that which is contingent (_per\naccidens_). It follows, thirdly, that God is absolutely the first cause.\n\n\nII\n\nWe have just shown that from the necessity, or (which is the same thing)\nfrom the laws only of the divine nature, infinite numbers of things\nabsolutely follow: and we have demonstrated that nothing can be, nor can\nbe conceived, without God, but that all things are in God. Therefore,\noutside Himself, there can be nothing by which He may be determined or\ncompelled to act; and therefore He acts from the laws of His own nature\nonly, and is compelled by no one.\n\nHence it follows, firstly, that there is no cause, either external to\nGod or within Him, which can excite Him to act except the perfection of\nHis own nature. It follows, secondly, that God alone is a free cause;\nfor God alone exists from the necessity alone of His own nature and acts\nfrom the necessity alone of His own nature. Therefore He alone is a free\ncause.\n\nThere are some who think that God is a free cause because He can, as\nthey think, bring about that those things which we have said follow from\nHis nature--that is to say, those things which are in His power--should\nnot be, or should not be produced by Him. But this is simply saying that\nGod could bring about that it should not follow from the nature of a\ntriangle that its three angles should be equal to two right angles, or\nthat from a given cause an effect should not follow, which is absurd.\nBut I shall show farther on, without the help of this proposition, that\nneither intellect nor will pertain to the nature of God.\n\nI know indeed that there are many who think themselves able to\ndemonstrate that intellect of the highest order and freedom of will both\npertain to the nature of God, for they say that they know nothing more\nperfect which they can attribute to Him than that which is the chief\nperfection in ourselves. But although they conceive God as actually\npossessing the highest intellect, they nevertheless do not believe that\nHe can bring about that all those things should exist which are actually\nin His intellect, for they think that by such a supposition they would\ndestroy His power. If He had created, they say, all things which are in\nHis intellect, He could have created nothing more, and this, they\nbelieve, does not accord with God's omnipotence; so then they prefer to\nconsider God as indifferent to all things, and creating nothing except\nthat which He has decreed to create by a certain absolute will. But I\nthink that I have shown with sufficient clearness that from the supreme\npower of God, or from His infinite nature, infinite things in infinite\nways, that is to say, all things, have necessarily flowed, or\ncontinually follow by the same necessity, in the same way as it follows\nfrom the nature of a triangle, from eternity and to eternity, that its\nthree angles are equal to two right angles. The omnipotence of God has\ntherefore been actual from eternity, and in the same actuality will\nremain to eternity. In this way the omnipotence of God, in my opinion,\nis far more firmly established.\n\nMy adversaries, indeed (if I may be permitted to speak plainly), seem to\ndeny the omnipotence of God, inasmuch as they are forced to admit that\nHe has in His mind an infinite number of things which might be created,\nbut which, nevertheless, He will never be able to create, for if He were\nto create all things which He has in His mind, He would, according to\nthem, exhaust His omnipotence and make Himself imperfect. Therefore, in\norder to make a perfect God, they are compelled to make Him incapable of\ndoing all those things to which His power extends, and anything more\nabsurd than this, or more opposed to God's omnipotence, I do not think\ncan be imagined.\n\nMoreover--to say a word, too, here about the intellect and will which we\ncommonly attribute to God--if intellect and will pertain to His eternal\nessence, these attributes cannot be understood in the sense in which men\ngenerally use them, for the intellect and will which could constitute\nHis essence would have to differ entirely from our intellect and will,\nand could resemble ours in nothing except in name. There could be no\nfurther likeness than that between the celestial constellation of the\nDog and the animal which barks. This I will demonstrate as follows: If\nintellect pertains to the divine nature, it cannot, like our intellect,\nfollow the things which are its object (as many suppose), nor can it be\nsimultaneous in its nature with them, since God is prior to all things\nin causality; but, on the contrary, the truth and formal essence of\nthings is what it is, because as such it exists objectively in God's\nintellect. Therefore the intellect of God, in so far as it is conceived\nto constitute His essence, is in truth the cause of things, both of\ntheir essence and of their existence,--a truth which seems to have been\nunderstood by those who have maintained that God's intellect, will, and\npower are one and the same thing.\n\nSince, therefore, God's intellect is the sole cause of things, both of\ntheir essence and of their existence (as we have already shown), it must\nnecessarily differ from them with regard both to its essence and\nexistence; for an effect differs from its cause precisely in that which\nit has from its cause. For example, one man is the cause of the\nexistence but not of the essence of another, for the essence is an\neternal truth; and therefore with regard to essence the two men may\nexactly resemble one another, but with regard to existence they must\ndiffer. Consequently if the existence of one should perish, that of the\nother will not therefore perish; but if the essence of one could be\ndestroyed and become false, the essence of the other would be likewise\ndestroyed. Therefore a thing which is the cause both of the essence and\nof the existence of any effect must differ from that effect both with\nregard to its essence and with regard to its existence. But the\nintellect of God is the cause both of the essence and existence of our\nintellect; therefore the intellect of God, so far as it is conceived to\nconstitute the divine essence, differs from our intellect both with\nregard to its essence and its existence, nor can it coincide with our\nintellect in anything except the name, which is what we essayed to\nprove. The same demonstration may be applied to the will, as any one may\neasily see for himself.\n\n\nIII\n\nAll things which are, are in God and must be conceived through Him and\ntherefore He is the cause of the things which are in Himself. Moreover,\noutside God there can be no substance, that is to say (Def. 3), outside\nHim nothing can exist which is in itself. God, therefore, is the\nimmanent, but not the transitive cause of all things.\n\n\n_The Necessity of All Things_\n\nIn nature there is nothing contingent, but all things are determined\nfrom the necessity of the divine nature to exist and act in a certain\nmanner.... That which has not been thus determined by God cannot\ndetermine itself to action. A thing which has been determined by God to\nany action cannot render itself indeterminate.\n\n... All things have necessarily followed from the given nature of God\nand from the necessity of His nature have been determined to existence\nand action in a certain manner. If therefore things could have been of\nanother nature, or could have been determined in another manner to\naction, so that the order of nature would have been different, the\nnature of God might then be different to that which it now is, and hence\nthat different nature would necessarily exist, and there might\nconsequently be two or more Gods, which is absurd. Therefore things\ncould be produced by God in no other manner and in no other order than\nthat in which they have been produced.\n\nSince I have thus shown, with greater clearness, than that of noonday\nlight, that in things there is absolutely nothing by virtue of which\nthey can be called contingent, I wish now to explain in a few words what\nis to be understood by _contingent_, but, firstly, what is to be\nunderstood by _necessary_ and _impossible_.\n\nA thing is called necessary either in reference to its essence or its\ncause. For the existence of a thing necessarily follows either from the\nessence and definition of the thing itself, or from a given efficient\ncause. In the same way a thing is said to be impossible either because\nthe essence of the thing itself or its definition involves a\ncontradiction, or because no external cause exists determinate to the\nproduction of such a thing. But a thing cannot be called contingent\nunless with reference to a deficiency in our knowledge. For if we do not\nknow that the essence of a thing involves a contradiction, or if we\nactually know that it involves no contradiction, and nevertheless we can\naffirm nothing with certainty about its existence because the order of\ncauses is concealed from us, that thing can never appear to us either as\nnecessary or impossible, and therefore we call it either contingent or\npossible.\n\nFrom what has gone before it clearly follows that things have been\nproduced by God in the highest degree of perfection, since they have\nnecessarily followed from the existence of a most perfect nature. Nor\ndoes this doctrine accuse God of any imperfection, but, on the contrary,\nHis perfection has compelled us to affirm it. Indeed, from its contrary\nwould clearly follow, as I have shown above, that God is not absolutely\nperfect, since, if things had been produced in any other fashion,\nanother nature would have had to be assigned to Him, different from that\nwhich the consideration of the most perfect Being compels us to assign\nto Him. I do not doubt that many will reject this opinion as ridiculous,\nnor will they care to apply themselves to its consideration, and this\nfrom no other reason than that they have been in the habit of assigning\nto God another liberty widely different from that absolute will which\n(Def. 7) we have taught. On the other hand, I do not doubt, if they were\nwilling to study the matter and properly to consider the series of our\ndemonstrations, that they would altogether reject this liberty which\nthey now assign to God, not only as of no value, but as a great obstacle\nto knowledge. Neither is there any need that I should here repeat those\nthings which are said [above][12].\n\nBut for the sake of those who differ from me, I will here show that\nalthough it be granted that will pertains to God's essence, it follows\nnevertheless from His perfection that things could be created in no\nother mode or order by Him. This it will be easy to show if we first\nconsider that which my opponents themselves admit, that it depends upon\nthe decree and will of God alone that each thing should be what it is,\nfor otherwise God would not be the cause of all things. It is also\nadmitted that all God's decrees were decreed by God Himself from all\neternity, for otherwise imperfection and inconstancy would be proved\nagainst Him. But since in eternity there is no _when_ nor _before_ nor\n_after_, it follows from the perfection of God alone that He neither can\ndecree nor could ever have decreed anything else than that which He has\ndecreed; that is to say, God has not existed before His decrees, and can\nnever exist without them. But it is said that although it be supposed\nthat God had made the nature of things different from that which it is,\nor that from eternity He had decreed something else about Nature and her\norder, it would not thence follow that any imperfection exists in God.\nBut if this be said, it must at the same time be allowed that God can\nchange His decrees. For if God had decreed something about Nature and\nher order other than that which He has decreed--that is to say, if He\nhad willed and conceived something else about Nature--He would\nnecessarily have had an intellect and a will different from those which\nHe now has. And if it be allowed to assign to God another intellect and\nanother will without any change of His essence and of His perfection,\nwhat is the reason why He cannot now change His decrees about creation\nand nevertheless remain equally perfect? For His intellect and will\nregarding created things and their order remain the same in relationship\nto His essence and perfection in whatever manner His intellect and will\nare conceived.\n\nMoreover, all the philosophers whom I have seen admit that there is no\nsuch thing as an intellect existing potentially in God, but only an\nintellect existing actually. But since His intellect and His will are\nnot distinguishable from His essence, as all admit, it follows from this\nalso that if God had had another intellect actually and another will,\nHis essence would have been necessarily different, and hence, as I\nshowed at the beginning, if things had been produced by God in a manner\ndifferent from that in which they now exist, God's intellect and will,\nthat is to say, His essence (as has been granted), must have been\ndifferent, which is absurd.\n\nSince, therefore, things could have been produced by God in no other\nmanner or order, this being a truth which follows from His absolute\nperfection, there is no sound reasoning which can persuade us to believe\nthat God was unwilling to create all things which are in His intellect\nwith the same perfection as that in which they exist in His intellect.\nBut we shall be told that there is no perfection nor imperfection in\nthings, but that that which is in them by reason of which they are\nperfect or imperfect and are said to be good or evil depends upon the\nwill of God alone, and therefore if God had willed He could have\neffected that that which is now perfection should have been the extreme\nof imperfection, and _vice versa_. But what else would this be than\nopenly to affirm that God, who necessarily understands what He wills, is\nable by His will to understand things in a manner different from that in\nwhich He understands them, which, as I have just shown, is a great\nabsurdity? I can therefore turn the argument on my opponents in this\nway. All things depend upon the power of God. In order that things may\nbe differently constituted, it would be necessary that God's will should\nbe differently constituted; but God's will cannot be other than it is as\nwe have lately most clearly deduced from His perfection. Things\ntherefore cannot be differently constituted.\n\nI confess that this opinion, which subjects all things to a certain\nindifferent God's will, and affirms that all things depend upon God's\ngood pleasure, is at a less distance from the truth than the opinion of\nthose who affirm that God does everything for the sake of the Good. For\nthese seem to place something outside of God which is independent of\nHim, to which He looks while He is at work as to a model, or at which He\naims as if at a certain mark. This is indeed nothing else than to\nsubject God to fate, the most absurd thing which can be affirmed of Him\nwhom we have shown to be the first and only free cause of the essence of\nall things as well as of their existence. Therefore it is not worth\nwhile that I should waste time in refuting this absurdity.\n\nBefore I go any farther, I wish here to explain or rather to recall to\nrecollection, what we mean by _natura naturans_ and what by _natura\nnaturata_. For, from what has gone before, I think it is plain that by\n_natura naturans_ we are to understand that which is in itself and is\nconceived through itself, or those attributes of substance which express\neternal and infinite essence, that is to say, God in so far as He is\nconsidered as a free cause. But by _natura naturata_ I understand\neverything which follows from the necessity of the nature of God, or of\nany one of God's attributes, that is to say, all the modes of God's\nattributes in so far as they are considered as things which are in God,\nand which without God can neither be nor can be conceived.\n\n... Individual things are nothing but affections or modes of God's\nattributes, expressing those attributes in a certain and determinate\nmanner.\n\n\n_General Conclusions_\n\nI have now explained the nature of God and its properties. I have shown\nthat He necessarily exists; that He is one God; that from the necessity\nalone of His own nature He is and acts; that He is, and in what way He\nis, the free cause of all things; that all things are in Him, and so\ndepend upon Him that without Him they can neither be nor can be\nconceived; and, finally, that all things have been predetermined by Him,\nnot indeed from freedom of will or from absolute good pleasure, but from\nHis absolute nature or infinite power.\n\nMoreover, wherever an opportunity was afforded, I have endeavored to\nremove prejudices which might hinder the perception of the truth of what\nI have demonstrated; but because not a few still remain which have been\nand are now sufficient to prove a very great hindrance to the\ncomprehension of the connection of things in the manner in which I have\nexplained it, I have thought it worth while to call them up to be\nexamined by reason. But all these prejudices which I here undertake to\npoint out depend upon this solely: that it is commonly supposed that all\nthings in Nature, like men, work to some end; and indeed it is thought\nto be certain that God Himself directs all things to some sure end, for\nit is said that God has made all things for man, and man that he may\nworship God.\n\nThis, therefore, I will first investigate by inquiring, firstly, why so\nmany rest in this prejudice, and why all are so naturally inclined to\nembrace it? I shall then show its falsity, and, finally, the manner in\nwhich there have arisen from it prejudices concerning _good_ and _evil_,\n_merit_ and _sin_, _praise_ and _blame_, _order_ and _disorder_,\n_beauty_ and _deformity_, and so forth. This, however, is not the place\nto deduce these things from the nature of the human mind. It will be\nsufficient if I here take as an axiom that which no one ought to\ndispute, namely, that man is born ignorant of the causes of things, and\nthat he has a desire, of which he is conscious, to seek that which is\nprofitable to him. From this it follows, firstly, that he thinks himself\nfree because he is conscious of his wishes and appetites, whilst at the\nsame time he is ignorant of the causes by which he is led to wish and\ndesire, not dreaming what they are; and, secondly, it follows that man\ndoes everything for an end, namely, for that which is profitable to him,\nwhich is what he seeks. Hence it happens that he attempts to discover\nmerely the final causes of that which has happened; and when he has\nheard them he is satisfied, because there is no longer any cause for\nfurther uncertainty. But if he cannot hear from another what these final\ncauses are, nothing remains but to turn to himself and reflect upon the\nends which usually determine him to the like actions, and thus by his\nown mind he necessarily judges that of another.\n\nMoreover, since he discovers, both within and without himself a\nmultitude of means which contribute not a little to the attainment of\nwhat is profitable to himself--for example, the eyes, which are useful\nfor seeing, the teeth for mastication, plants and animals for\nnourishment, the sun for giving light, the sea for feeding fish,\netc.--it comes to pass that all natural objects are considered as means\nfor obtaining what is profitable. These too being evidently discovered\nand not created by man, hence he has a cause for believing that some\nother person exists, who has prepared them for man's use. For having\nconsidered them as means it was impossible to believe that they had\ncreated themselves, and so he was obliged to infer from the means which\nhe was in the habit of providing for himself that some ruler or rulers\nof Nature exist, endowed with human liberty, who have taken care of all\nthings for him, and have made all things for his use. Since he never\nheard anything about the mind of these rulers, he was compelled to judge\nof it from his own, and hence he affirmed that the gods direct\neverything for his advantage, in order that he may be bound to them and\nhold them in the highest honor. This is the reason why each man has\ndevised for himself, out of his own brain, a different mode of\nworshiping God, so that God might love him above others, and direct all\nNature to the service of his blind cupidity and insatiable avarice.\n\nThus has this prejudice been turned into a superstition and has driven\ndeep roots into the mind--a prejudice which was the reason why every one\nhas so eagerly tried to discover and explain the final causes of things.\nThe attempt, however, to show that Nature does nothing in vain (that is\nto say, nothing which is not profitable to man), seems to end in showing\nthat Nature, the gods, and man are alike mad.\n\nDo but see, I pray, to what all this has led. Amidst so much in Nature\nthat is beneficial, not a few things must have been observed which are\ninjurious, such as storms, earthquakes, diseases, and it was affirmed\nthat these things happened either because the gods were angry because of\nwrongs which had been inflicted on them by man, or because of sins\ncommitted in the method of worshiping them; and although experience\ndaily contradicted this, and showed by an infinity of examples that both\nthe beneficial and the injurious were indiscriminately bestowed on the\npious and the impious, the inveterate prejudices on this point have not\ntherefore been abandoned. For it was much easier for a man to place\nthese things aside with others of the use of which he was ignorant, and\nthus retain his present and inborn state of ignorance, than to destroy\nthe whole superstructure and think out a new one. Hence it was looked\nupon as indisputable that the judgments of the gods far surpass our\ncomprehension; and this opinion alone would have been sufficient to keep\nthe human race in darkness to all eternity, if mathematics, which does\nnot deal with ends, but with the essences and properties of forms, had\nnot placed before us another rule of truth. In addition to mathematics,\nother causes also might be assigned, which it is superfluous here to\nenumerate, tending to make men reflect upon these universal prejudices,\nand leading them to a true knowledge of things.\n\nI have thus sufficiently explained what I promised in the first place to\nexplain. There will now be no need of many words to show that Nature has\nset no end before herself, and that all final causes are nothing but\nhuman fictions. For I believe that this is sufficiently evident both\nfrom the foundations and causes of this prejudice, as well as from all\nthose propositions in which I have shown that all things are begotten by\na certain eternal necessity of Nature and in absolute perfection. Thus\nmuch, nevertheless, I will add, that this doctrine concerning an end\naltogether overturns nature. For that which is in truth the cause it\nconsiders as the effect, and _vice versa_. Again, that which is first in\nNature it puts last; and, finally, that which is supreme and most\nperfect it makes the most imperfect. For, passing by the first two\nassertions as self-evident, it is plain that that effect is the most\nperfect which is immediately produced by God, and in proportion as\nintermediate causes are necessary for the production of a thing is it\nimperfect. But if things which are immediately produced by God were made\nin order that He might obtain the end He had in view, then the last\nthings for the sake of which the first exist, must be the most perfect\nof all.\n\nAgain, this doctrine does away with God's perfection. For if God works\nto obtain an end, He necessarily seeks something of which he stands in\nneed. And although theologians and metaphysicians distinguish between\nthe end of want and the end of assimilation (_finem indigentiae et finem\nassimilationis_), they confess that God has done all things for His own\nsake, and not for the sake of the things to be created, because before\nthe creation they can assign nothing excepting God for the sake of which\nGod could do anything; and therefore they are necessarily compelled to\nadmit that God stood in need of and desired those things for which He\ndetermined to prepare means. This is self-evident. Nor is it here to be\noverlooked that the adherents of this doctrine, who have found a\npleasure in displaying their ingenuity in assigning the ends of things,\nhave introduced a new species of argument, not the _reductio ad\nimpossible_, but the _reductio ad ignorantiam_, to prove their position,\nwhich shows that it had no other method of defense left.\n\nFor, by way of example, if a stone had fallen from some roof on\nsomebody's head and killed him, they will demonstrate in this manner\nthat the stone has fallen in order to kill the man. For if it did not\nfall for that purpose by the will of God, how could so many\ncircumstances concur through chance (and a number often simultaneously\ndo concur)? You will answer, perhaps, that the event happened because\nthe wind blew and the man was passing that way. But, they will urge, why\ndid the wind blow at that time, and why did the man pass that way\nprecisely at the same moment? If you again reply that the wind rose then\nbecause the sea on the preceding day began to be stormy, the weather\nhitherto having been calm, and that the man had been invited by a\nfriend, they will urge again--because there is no end of\nquestioning--But why was the sea agitated? why was the man invited at\nthat time? And so they will not cease from asking the causes of causes,\nuntil at last you fly to the will of God, the refuge for ignorance.\n\nSo, also, when they behold the structure of the human body, they are\namazed; and because they are ignorant of the causes of such art, they\nconclude that the body was made not by mechanical but by a supernatural\nor divine art, and has been formed in such a way so that the one part\nmay not injure the other. Hence it happens that the man who endeavors to\nfind out the true causes of miracles, and who desires as a wise man to\nunderstand Nature, and not to gape at it like a fool, is generally\nconsidered and proclaimed to be a heretic and impious by those whom the\nvulgar worship as the interpreters both of Nature and the gods. For\nthese know that if ignorance be removed, amazed stupidity, the sole\nground on which they rely in arguing or in defending their authority, is\ntaken away also. But these things I leave and pass on to that which I\ndetermined to do in the third place.\n\nAfter man has persuaded himself that all things which exist are made for\nhim, he must in everything adjudge that to be of the greatest importance\nwhich is most useful to him, and he must esteem that to be of surpassing\nworth by which he is most beneficially affected. In this way he is\ncompelled to form those notions by which he explains Nature; such, for\ninstance, as _good_, _evil_, _order_, _confusion_, _heat_, _cold_,\n_beauty_, and _deformity_, etc.; and because he supposes himself to be\nfree, notions like those of _praise_ and _blame_, _sin_ and _merit_,\nhave arisen. These latter I shall hereafter explain when I have treated\nof human nature; the former I will here briefly unfold.\n\nIt is to be observed that man has given the name _good_ to everything\nwhich leads to health and the worship of God; on the contrary,\neverything which does not lead thereto he calls _evil_. But because\nthose who do not understand Nature affirm nothing about things\nthemselves, but only imagine them, and take the imagination to be\nunderstanding, they therefore, ignorant of things and their nature,\nfirmly believe an _order_ to be in things; for when things are so placed\nthat if they are represented to us through the senses, we can easily\nimagine them, and consequently easily remember them, we call them well\narranged; but if they are not placed so that we can imagine and remember\nthem, we call them badly arranged or _confused_. Moreover, since those\nthings are more especially pleasing to us which we can easily imagine,\nmen therefore prefer order to confusion, as if order were something in\nNature apart from our own imagination; and they say that God has created\neverything in order, and in this manner they ignorantly attribute\nimagination to God, unless they mean perhaps that God, out of\nconsideration for the human imagination, has disposed things in the\nmanner in which they can most easily be imagined. No hesitation either\nseems to be caused by the fact that an infinite number of things are\ndiscovered which far surpass our imagination, and very many which\nconfound it through its weakness. But enough of this.\n\nThe other notions which I have mentioned are nothing but modes in which\nthe imagination is affected in different ways, and nevertheless they are\nregarded by the ignorant as being specially attributes of things,\nbecause, as we have remarked, men consider all things as made for\nthemselves, and call the nature of a thing good, evil, sound, putrid, or\ncorrupt, just as they are affected by it. For example, if the motion by\nwhich the nerves are affected by means of objects represented to the eye\nconduces to well-being, the objects by which it is caused are called\n_beautiful_; while those exciting a contrary motion are called\n_deformed_. Those things, too, which stimulate the senses through the\nnostrils are called sweet-smelling or stinking; those which act through\nthe taste are called sweet or bitter, full-flavored or insipid; those\nwhich act through the touch, hard or soft, heavy or light; those,\nlastly, which act through the ears are said to make a noise, sound, or\nharmony, the last having caused men to lose their senses to such a\ndegree that they have believed that God even is delighted with it.\nIndeed, philosophers may be found who have persuaded themselves that the\ncelestial motions beget a harmony.\n\nAll these things sufficiently show that every one judges things by the\nconstitution of his brain, or rather accepts the affections of his\nimagination in the place of things.[13] It is not, therefore, to be\nwondered at, as we may observe in passing, that all those controversies\nwhich we see have arisen amongst men, so that at last skepticism has\nbeen the result. For although human bodies agree in many things, they\ndiffer in more, and therefore that which to one person is good will\nappear to another evil, that which to one is well arranged to another is\nconfused, that which pleases one will displease another, and so on in\nother cases which I pass by both because we cannot notice them at length\nhere, and because they are within the experience of every one. For every\none has heard the expressions: So many heads, so many ways of thinking;\nEvery one is satisfied with his own way of thinking; Differences of\nbrains are not less common than differences of taste;--all which maxims\nshow that men decide upon matters according to the constitution of their\nbrains, and imagine rather than understand things.\n\nIf men understood things, they would, as mathematics prove, at least be\nall alike convinced if they were not all alike attracted. We see,\ntherefore, that all those methods by which the common people are in the\nhabit of explaining Nature are only different sorts of imaginations, and\ndo not reveal the nature of anything in itself, but only the\nconstitution of the imagination; and because they have names as if they\nwere entities existing apart from the imagination, I call them entities\nnot of the reason but of the imagination. All argument therefore, urged\nagainst us based upon such notions can be easily refuted.\n\nMany people, for instance, are accustomed to argue thus:--If all things\nhave followed from the necessity of the most perfect nature of God, how\nis it that so many imperfections have arisen in Nature--corruption, for\ninstance, of things till they stink; deformity, exciting disgust;\nconfusion, evil, crime, etc.? But, as I have just observed, all this is\neasily answered. For the perfection of things is to be judged by their\nnature and power alone; nor are they more or less perfect because they\ndelight or offend the human senses, or because they are beneficial or\nprejudicial to human nature. But to those who ask why God has not\ncreated all men in such a manner that they might be controlled by the\ndictates of reason alone, I give but this answer: Because to Him\nmaterial was not wanting for the creation of everything, from the\nhighest down to the very lowest grade of perfection; or, to speak more\nproperly, because the laws of His nature were so ample that they\nsufficed for the production of everything which can be conceived by an\ninfinite intellect, as I have demonstrated.\n\nThese are the prejudices which I undertook to notice here. If any others\nof a similar character remain, they can easily be rectified with a\nlittle thought by any one.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[12] Pp. 132-135.\n\n[13] Beauty, my dear Sir, is not so much a quality of the object beheld,\nas an effect in him who beholds it. If our sight were longer or shorter,\nor, if our constitution were different, what now appears beautiful to us\nwould seem misshapen and what we now think misshapen we should regard as\nbeautiful. The most beautiful hand seen through the microscope will\nappear horrible. Some things are beautiful at a distance, but ugly near;\nthus things regarded in themselves, and in relation to God, are neither\nugly nor beautiful. Therefore, he who says that God has created the\nworld so that it might be beautiful is bound to adopt one of the two\nalternatives: either that God created the world for the sake of men's\npleasure and eyesight, or else that He created men's pleasure and\neyesight for the sake of the world. _From a letter to Hugo Boxel_\n(1674).\n\n\n\n\nSECOND PART\n\nON MAN\n\n\n_The more things the mind knows, the better it understands its own\npowers and the order of Nature. The better it understands its own\npowers, so much the more easily can it direct itself and propose rules\nto itself. The better, also, it understands the order of Nature, the\nmore easily can it restrain itself from what is useless._\n\nSPINOZA.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nTHE NATURE AND ORIGIN OF THE HUMAN MIND\n\n\n_Introductory_\n\nI pass on now to explain those things which must necessarily follow from\nthe essence of God or the Being eternal and infinite; not indeed to\nexplain all these things, for we have demonstrated that an infinitude of\nthings must follow in an infinite number of ways,--but to consider those\nthings only which may conduct us, as it were, by the hand to a knowledge\nof the human mind and its highest happiness.\n\n\n_Definitions_\n\nI. By body, I understand a mode which expresses in a certain and\ndeterminate manner the essence of God in so far as He is considered as\nthe thing extended.\n\nII. I say that to the essence of anything pertains that, which being\ngiven, the thing itself is necessarily posited, and being taken away,\nthe thing is necessarily taken; or, in other words, that, without which\nthe thing can neither be nor be conceived, and which in its turn cannot\nbe nor be conceived without the thing.\n\nIII. By idea, I understand a conception of the mind which the mind forms\nbecause it is a thinking thing.\n\n_Explanation._--I use the word conception rather than perception because\nthe name perception seems to indicate that the mind is passive in its\nrelation to the object. But the word conception seems to express the\naction of the mind.\n\nIV. By adequate idea, I understand an idea which, in so far as it is\nconsidered in itself, without reference to the object, has all the\nproperties or internal signs (_denominationes intrinsecas_) of a true\nidea.\n\n_Explanation._--I say internal, so as to exclude that which is external,\nthe agreement, namely, of the idea with its object.\n\nV. Duration is the indefinite continuation of existence.\n\n_Explanation._--I call it indefinite because it cannot be determined by\nthe nature itself of the existing thing nor by the efficient cause,\nwhich necessarily posits the existence of the thing but does not take it\naway.\n\nVI. By reality and perfection I understand the same thing.\n\nVII. By individual things I understand things which are finite and which\nhave a determinate existence; and if a number of individuals so unite in\none action that they are all simultaneously the cause of one effect, I\nconsider them all, so far, as one individual thing.\n\n\n_Axioms_\n\nI. The essence of man does not involve necessary existence; that is to\nsay, the existence as well as the non-existence of this or that man may\nor may not follow from the order of Nature.\n\nII. Man thinks.\n\nIII. Modes of thought, such as love, desire, or the emotions of the\nmind, by whatever name they may be called, do not exist, unless in the\nsame individual the idea exist of a thing loved, desired, etc. But the\nidea may exist although no other mode of thinking exist.\n\nIV. We perceive that a certain body is affected in many ways.\n\nV. No individual things are felt or perceived by us excepting bodies and\nmodes of thought.\n\n\n_The Mind of God_\n\nIndividual thoughts, or this and that thought, are modes which express\nthe nature of God in a certain and determinate manner. God therefore\npossesses an attribute, the conception of which is involved in all\nindividual thoughts, and through which they are conceived. Thought,\ntherefore, is one of the infinite attributes of God which expresses the\neternal and infinite essence of God or, in other words, God is a\nthinking thing.\n\nThis proposition is plain from the fact that we can conceive an infinite\nthinking Being. For the more things a thinking being can think, the more\nreality or perfection we conceive it to possess, and therefore the being\nwhich can think an infinitude of things in infinite ways is necessarily\ninfinite by his power of thinking. Since, therefore, we can conceive an\ninfinite Being by attending to thought alone, thought is necessarily one\nof the infinite attributes of God.[14]\n\nGod can think an infinitude of things in infinite ways, or (which is the\nsame thing) can form an idea of His essence and of all the things which\nnecessarily follow from it. But everything which is in the power of God\nis necessary. Therefore in God there necessarily exists the idea of His\nessence, and of all things which necessarily follow from His essence.\n\nThe infinite intellect comprehends nothing but the attributes of God and\nHis modes. But God is one. Therefore the idea of God, from which\ninfinite numbers of things follow in infinite ways, can be one only.\n\nThe common people understand by God's power His free will and right over\nall existing things, which are therefore commonly looked upon as\ncontingent; for they say that God has the power of destroying everything\nand reducing it to nothing. They very frequently, too, compare God's\npower with the power of kings. That there is any similarity between the\ntwo we have disproved. We have shown that God does everything with that\nnecessity with which He understands Himself; that is to say, as it\nfollows from the necessity of the divine nature that God understands\nHimself (a truth admitted by all), so by the same necessity it follows\nthat God does an infinitude of things in infinite ways. Moreover, we\nhave shown that the power of God is nothing but the active essence of\nGod, and therefore it is as impossible for us to conceive that God does\nnot act as that He does not exist. If it pleased me to go farther, I\ncould show besides that the power which the common people ascribe to God\nis not only a human power (which shows that they look upon God as a man,\nor as being like a man), but that it also involves weakness. But I do\nnot care to talk so much upon the same subject. Again and again I ask\nthe reader to consider and reconsider what is said upon this subject\n[above].[15] For it is not possible for any one properly to understand\nthe things which I wish to prove unless he takes great care not to\nconfound the power of God with the human power and right of kings.\n\n\n_The Order and Dependence of Ideas in God_\n\nThe formal Being of ideas is a mode of thought (as is self-evident);\nthat is to say, a mode which expresses in a certain manner the nature of\nGod in so far as He is a thinking thing. It is a mode, therefore, that\ninvolves the conception of no other attribute of God, and consequently\nis the effect of no other attribute except that of thought; therefore\nthe formal Being of ideas recognizes God for its cause in so far only as\nHe is considered as a thinking thing, and not in so far as He is\nmanifested by any other attribute; that is to say, the ideas both of\nGod's attributes and of individual things do not recognize as their\nefficient cause the objects of the ideas or the things which are\nperceived, but God Himself in so far as He is a thinking thing.[16]\n\nGod's power of thinking is equal to His actual power of acting; that is\nto say, whatever follows _formally_ from the infinite nature of God,\nfollows from the idea of God (idea Dei), in the same order and in the\nsame connection _objectively_ in God.\n\nThe order and connection of ideas is the same as the order and\nconnection of things.\n\nBefore we go any farther, we must here recall to our memory what we have\nalready demonstrated, that everything which can be perceived by the\ninfinite intellect as constituting the essence of substance pertains\nentirely to the one sole substance only, and consequently that substance\nthinking and substance extended are one and the same substance, which is\nnow comprehended under this attribute and now under that. Thus, also, a\nmode of extension and the idea of that mode are one and the same thing\nexpressed in two different ways--a truth which some of the Hebrews\nappear to have seen as if through a cloud, since they say that God, the\nintellect of God, and the things which are the objects of that intellect\nare one and the same thing. For example, the circle existing in nature\nand the idea that is in God of an existing circle are one and the same\nthing, which is manifested through different attributes; and, therefore,\nwhether we think of Nature under the attribute of extension, or under\nthe attribute of thought, or under any other attribute whatever, we\nshall discover one and the same order, or one and the same connection of\ncauses; that is to say, in every case the same sequence of things. Nor\nhave I had any other reason for saying that God is the cause of the\nidea, for example, of the circle in so far only as He is a thinking\nthing, and of the circle itself in so far as He is an extended thing,\nbut this, that the formal Being of the idea of a circle can only be\nperceived through another mode of thought, as its proximate cause, and\nthis again must be perceived through another, and so on _ad infinitum_.\nSo that when things are considered as modes of thought, we must explain\nthe order of the whole of Nature or the connection of causes by the\nattribute of thought alone, and when things are considered as modes of\nextension, the order of the whole of Nature must be explained through\nthe attribute of extension alone, and so with other attributes.\nTherefore God is in truth the cause of things as they are in themselves\nin so far as He consists of infinite attributes, nor for the present can\nI explain the matter more clearly.\n\n\n_The Origin of the Human Mind_\n\nThe human mind is a part of the infinite intellect of God, and\ntherefore, when we say that the human mind perceives this or that thing,\nwe say nothing else than that God has this or that idea; not indeed in\nso far as He is infinite, but in so far as He is manifested through the\nnature of the human mind, or in so far as He forms the essence of the\nhuman mind; and when we say that God has this or that idea, not merely\nin so far as He forms the nature of the human mind, but in so far as He\nhas at the same time with the human mind the idea also of another thing,\nthen we say that the human mind perceives the thing partially or\ninadequately.\n\n... When you ask me my opinion on the question[17] raised concerning\nour knowledge of the means, whereby each part of Nature agrees with its\nwhole, and the manner in which it is associated with the remaining\nparts, I presume you are asking for the reasons which induce us to\nbelieve that each part of Nature agrees with its whole, and is\nassociated with the remaining parts. For as to the means whereby the\nparts are really associated, and each part agrees with its whole, I told\nyou in my former letter that I am in ignorance. To answer such a\nquestion we should have to know the whole of Nature and its several\nparts. I will therefore endeavor to show the reason which led me to make\nthe statement; but I will promise that I do not attribute to Nature\neither beauty or deformity, order or confusion. Only in relation to our\nimagination can things be called beautiful or deformed, ordered or\nconfused.\n\nBy the association of parts, then, I merely mean that the laws or nature\nof one part adapt themselves to the laws or nature of another part, so\nas to cause the least possible inconsistency. As to the whole and the\nparts, I mean that a given number of things are parts of a whole, in so\nfar as the nature of each of them is adapted to the nature of the rest\nso that they all, as far as possible, agree together. On the other hand,\nin so far as they do not agree, each of them forms, in our minds, a\nseparate idea, and is to that extent considered as a whole, not as a\npart. For instance, when the parts of lymph, chyle, etc., combine,\naccording to the proportion of the figure and size of each, so as to\nevidently unite, and form one fluid, the chyle, lymph, etc., considered\nunder this aspect, are part of the blood; but, in so far as we consider\nthe particles of lymph as differing in figure and size from the\nparticles of chyle, we shall consider each of the two as a whole, not as\na part.\n\nLet us imagine, with your permission, a little worm, living in the\nblood, able to distinguish by sight the particles of blood, lymph, etc.,\nand to reflect on the manner in which each particle, on meeting with\nanother particle, either is repulsed, or communicates a portion of its\nown motion. This little worm would live in the blood in the same way as\nwe live in a part of the universe, and would consider each particle of\nblood, not as a part, but as a whole. He would be unable to determine\nhow all the parts are modified by the general nature of blood, and are\ncompelled by it to adapt themselves so as to stand in a fixed relation\nto one another. For if we imagine that there are no causes external to\nthe blood, which could communicate fresh movements to it, nor any space\nbeyond the blood, nor any bodies whereto the particles of blood could\ncommunicate their motion, it is certain that the blood would always\nremain in the same state, and its particles would undergo no\nmodifications, save those which may be conceived as arising from the\nrelations of motion existing between the lymph, the chyle, etc. The\nblood would then always have to be considered as a whole, not as a part.\nBut as there exist, as a matter of fact, very many causes which modify,\nin a given manner, the nature of blood, and are, in turn, modified\nthereby, it follows that other motions and other relations arise in the\nblood, springing not from the mutual relations of its parts only, but\nfrom the mutual relations between the blood as a whole and external\ncauses. Thus the blood comes to be regarded as a part, not as a whole.\nSo much for the whole and the part.\n\nAll natural bodies can and ought to be considered in the same way as we\nhave here considered the blood, for all bodies are surrounded by others,\nand are mutually determined to exist and operate in a fixed and definite\nproportion, while the relations between motion and rest in the sum total\nof them, that is, in the whole universe, remain unchanged. Hence it\nfollows that each body, in so far as it exists as modified in a\nparticular manner, must be considered as a part of the whole universe,\nas agreeing with the whole, and associated with the remaining parts. As\nthe nature of the universe is not limited, like the nature of blood, but\nis absolutely infinite, its parts are by this nature of infinite power\ninfinitely modified, and compelled to undergo infinite variations....\n\nYou see, therefore, how and why I think that the human body is a part of\nNature. As regards the human mind, I believe that it also is a part of\nNature; for I maintain that there exists in Nature an infinite power of\nthinking, which, in so far as it is infinite, contains subjectively the\nwhole of Nature, and its thoughts proceed in the same manner as\nNature--that is, in the sphere of ideas. Further, I take the human mind\nto be identical with this said power, not in so far as it is infinite,\nand perceives the whole of Nature, but in so far as it is finite, and\nperceives only the human body. In this manner, I maintain that the human\nmind is part of an infinite understanding.\n\n\n_The Nature of the Human Mind_\n\nThe essence of man is formed by certain modes of the attributes of God,\nthat is to say, modes of thought, the idea of all of them being prior by\nnature to the modes of thought themselves; and if this idea exists,\nother modes (which also have an idea in nature prior to them) must exist\nin the same individual likewise. Therefore an idea is the first thing\nwhich forms the Being of the human mind. But it is not the idea of a\nnon-existent thing, for then the idea itself could not be said to exist.\nIt will therefore be the idea of something actually existing. Neither\nwill it be the idea of an infinite thing, for an infinite thing must\nalways necessarily exist, and this is absurd. Therefore the first thing\nwhich forms the actual Being of the human mind is the idea of an\nindividual thing actually existing.\n\nThe knowledge of everything which happens in the object of any idea\nnecessarily exists in God, in so far as He is considered as modified by\nthe idea of that object; that is to say, in so far as He forms the mind\nof any being. The knowledge, therefore, necessarily exists in God of\neverything which happens in the object of the idea constituting the\nhuman mind; that is to say, it exists in Him in so far as He forms the\nnature of the human mind; or, whatever happens in the object of the idea\nconstituting the human mind must be perceived by the human mind; in\nother words, an idea of that thing will necessarily exist in the human\nmind. That is to say, if the object of the idea constituting the human\nmind be a body, nothing can happen in that body which is not perceived\nby the mind.\n\nIf the body were not the object of the human mind, the ideas of the\nmodifications of the body would not be in God, in so far as He has\nformed our mind, but would be in Him in so far as He has formed the mind\nof another thing; that is to say, the ideas of the modifications of the\nbody would not be in our mind. But we have ideas of the modifications of\na body; therefore the object of the idea constituting the human mind is\na body, and that, too, actually existing. Again, if there were also any\nother object of the mind besides a body, since nothing exists from which\nsome effect does not follow, the idea of some effort produced by this\nobject would necessarily exist in our mind. But there is no such idea.\nTherefore the object of the idea constituting the human mind is a body,\nor a certain mode of extension actually existing, and nothing else.\n\nHence it follows that man is composed of mind and body, and that the\nhuman body exists as we perceive it.\n\nHence we see not only that the human mind is united to the body, but\nalso what is to be understood by the union of the mind and body. But no\none can understand it adequately or distinctly without knowing\nadequately beforehand the nature of our body; for those things which we\nhave proved hitherto are altogether general, nor do they refer more to\nman than to other individuals, all of which are animate, although in\ndifferent degrees. For of everything there necessarily exists in God an\nidea of which He is the cause, in the same way as the idea of the human\nbody exists in Him; and therefore everything that we have said of the\nidea of the human body is necessarily true of the idea of any other\nthing. We cannot, however, deny that ideas, like objects themselves,\ndiffer from one another, and that one is more excellent and contains\nmore reality than another, just as the object of one idea is more\nexcellent and contains more reality than another. Therefore, in order to\ndetermine the differences between the human mind and other things and\nits superiority over them, we must first know, as we have said, the\nnature of its object, that is to say, the nature of the human body. I am\nnot able to explain it here, nor is such an explanation necessary for\nwhat I wish to demonstrate.\n\nThis much, nevertheless, I will say generally, that in proportion as one\nbody is better adapted than another to do or suffer many things, in the\nsame proportion will the mind at the same time be better adapted to\nperceive many things, and the more the actions of a body depend upon\nitself alone, and the less other bodies cooeperate with it in action, the\nbetter adapted will the mind be for distinctly understanding. We can\nthus determine the superiority of one mind to another; we can also see\nthe reason why we have only a very confused knowledge of our body,\ntogether with many other things which I shall deduce in what follows.\n\n\n_The Complexity of the Human Mind_\n\nThe idea which constitutes the formal Being of the human mind is the\nidea of a body which is composed of a number of individuals composite to\na high degree. But an idea of each individual composing the body must\nnecessarily exist in God; therefore the idea of the human body is\ncomposed of these several ideas of the component parts. The idea which\nconstitutes the formal Being of the human mind is not simple, but is\ncomposed of a number of ideas.\n\nAll ways in which any body is affected follow at the same time from the\nnature of the affected body, and from the nature of the affecting body;\ntherefore the idea of these modifications necessarily involves the\nnature of each body, and therefore the idea of each way in which the\nhuman body is affected by an external body involves the nature of the\nhuman body and of the external body.\n\nHence it follows, in the first place, that the human mind perceives the\nnature of many bodies together with that of its own body.\n\nIt follows, secondly, that the ideas we have of external bodies indicate\nthe constitution of our own body rather than the nature of external\nbodies.\n\n\n_Imagination_\n\nIf the human body be affected in a way which involves the nature of any\nexternal body, the human mind will contemplate that external body as\nactually existing or as present, until the human body be affected by a\nmode which excludes the existence or presence of the external body.\n\nWhen external bodies so determine the fluid parts of the human body that\nthey often strike upon the softer parts, the fluid parts change the\nplane of the soft parts, and thence it happens that the fluid parts are\nreflected from the new planes in a direction different from that in\nwhich they used to be reflected, and that also afterwards when they\nstrike against these new planes by their own spontaneous motion, they\nare reflected in the same way as when they were impelled towards those\nplanes by external bodies. Consequently those fluid bodies produce a\nmodification in the human body while they keep up this reflex motion\nsimilar to that produced by the presence of an external body. The mind,\ntherefore, will think as before, that is to say, it will again\ncontemplate the external body as present. This will happen as often as\nthe fluid parts of the human body strike against those planes by their\nown spontaneous motion. Therefore, although the external bodies by which\nthe human body was once affected do not exist the mind will perceive\nthem as if they were present so often as this action is repeated in the\nbody.\n\nWe see, therefore, how it is possible for us to contemplate things which\ndo not exist as if they were actually present. This may indeed be\nproduced by other causes, but I am satisfied with having here shown one\ncause through which I could explain it, just as if I had explained it\nthrough the true cause. I do not think, however, that I am far from the\ntruth, since no postulate which I have assumed contains anything which\nis not confirmed by an experience that we cannot mistrust, after we have\nproved the existence of the human body as we perceive it.\n\nWe clearly see, moreover, what is the difference between the idea, for\nexample, of Peter, which constitutes the essence of the mind itself of\nPeter, and the idea of Peter himself which is in another man; for\nexample, in Paul. For the former directly manifests the essence of the\nbody of Peter himself, nor does it involve existence unless so long as\nPeter exists; the latter, on the other hand, indicates rather the\nconstitution of the body of Paul than the nature of Peter; and therefore\nso long as Paul's body exists with that constitution, so long will\nPaul's mind contemplate Peter as present, although he does not exist.\nBut in order that we may retain the customary phraseology, we will give\nto those modifications of the human body, the ideas of which represent\nto us external bodies as if they were present, the name of _images of\nthings_, although they do not actually reproduce the forms of the\nthings. When the mind contemplates bodies in this way, we will say that\nit imagines. Here I wish it to be observed, in order that I may begin to\nshow what _error_ is, that these imaginations of the mind, regarded by\nthemselves, contain no error, and that the mind is not in error because\nit imagines, but only in so far as it is considered as wanting in an\nidea which excludes the existence of those things which it imagines as\npresent. For if the mind, when it imagines non-existent things to be\npresent, could at the same time know that those things did not really\nexist, it would think its power of imagination to be a virtue of its\nnature and not a defect, especially if this faculty of imagining\ndepended upon its own nature alone, that is to say, if this faculty of\nthe mind were free.\n\n\n_Association of Ideas and Memory_\n\nIf the human body has at any time been simultaneously affected by two or\nmore bodies, whenever the mind afterwards imagines one of them, it will\nalso remember the others.\n\nWe clearly understand by this what memory is. It is nothing else than a\ncertain concatenation of ideas, involving the nature of things which are\noutside the human body, a concatenation which corresponds in the mind to\nthe order and concatenation of the modifications of the human body. I\nsay, firstly, that it is a concatenation of those ideas only which\ninvolve the nature of things which are outside the human body, and not\nof those ideas which explain the nature of those things, for there are\nin truth ideas of the modifications of the human body, which involve its\nnature as well as the nature of external bodies. I say, in the second\nplace, that this concatenation takes place according to the order and\nconcatenation of the modifications of the human body, that I may\ndistinguish it from the concatenation of ideas which takes place\naccording to the order of the intellect, and enables the mind to\nperceive things through their first causes, and is the same in all men.\n\nHence we can clearly understand how it is that the mind from the thought\nof one thing at once turns to the thought of another thing which is not\nin any way like the first. For example, from the thought of the word\n_pomum_ a Roman immediately turned to the thought of the fruit, which\nhas no resemblance to the articulate sound _pomum_, nor anything in\ncommon with it, excepting this, that the body of that man was often\naffected by the thing and the sound; that is to say, he often heard the\nword _pomum_ when he saw the fruit. In this manner each person will turn\nfrom one thought to another according to the manner in which the habit\nof each has arranged the images of things in the body. The soldier, for\ninstance, if he sees the footsteps of a horse in the sand, will\nimmediately turn from the thought of a horse to the thought of a\nhorseman, and so to the thought of war. The countryman, on the other\nhand, from the thought of a horse will turn to the thought of his plow,\nhis field, etc.; and thus each person will turn from one thought to this\nor that thought, according to the manner in which he has been accustomed\nto connect and bind together the images of things in his mind.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[14] [Similarly, it can be demonstrated that] extension is an attribute\nof God, or God is an extended thing.\n\n[15] Chapter Eight.\n\n[16] The formal Being of things which are not modes of thought does not\nfollow from the divine nature because of His prior knowledge of these\nthings, but, just as ideas follow from the attribute of thought, in the\nsame manner and with the same necessity the objects of ideas follow and\nare concluded from their attributes.\n\n[17] From a letter to Henry Oldenburg (1665).\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE NATURE AND EXTENT OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE\n\n\n_Of Truth_\n\nAll the ideas which are in God always agree with those things of which\nthey are the ideas. Therefore, all ideas, in so far as they are related\nto God, are true.\n\nA true idea[18] (for we possess a true idea) is something different from\nits correlate (_ideatum_); thus a circle is different from the idea of a\ncircle. The idea of a circle is not something having a circumference and\na center, as a circle has; nor is the idea of a body that body itself.\nNow, as it is something different from its correlate, it is capable of\nbeing understood through itself; in other words, the idea, in so far as\nits actual essence (_essentia formalis_) is concerned, may be the\nsubject of another subjective essence. And, again, this second\nsubjective essence will, regarded in itself, be something real and\ncapable of being understood; and so on indefinitely. For instance, the\nman Peter is something real; the true idea of Peter is the reality of\nPeter represented subjectively, and is in itself something real, and\nquite distinct from the actual Peter. Now, as this true idea of Peter is\nin itself something real, and has its own individual existence, it will\nalso be capable of being understood--that is, of being the subject of\nanother idea which will contain by representation all that the idea of\nPeter contains actually. And, again, this idea of the idea of Peter has\nits own individuality, which may become the subject of yet another idea;\nand so on indefinitely. This every one may make trial of for himself, by\nreflecting that he knows what Peter is, and also knows that he knows,\nand further knows that he knows that he knows, etc. Hence, it is plain\nthat, in order to understand the actual Peter, it is not necessary first\nto understand the idea of Peter, and still less the idea of the idea of\nPeter. This is the same as saying that in order to know, there is no\nneed to know that we know, much less to know that we know that we know.\nThis is no more necessary than to know the nature of a circle before\nknowing the nature of a triangle. But with these ideas the contrary is\nthe case; for in order to know that I know, I must first know. Hence it\nis clear that certainty is nothing else than the subjective essence of a\nthing: in other words, the mode in which we perceive an actual reality\nis certainty. Further, it is also evident that for the certitude of\ntruth no further sign is necessary beyond the possession of a true idea;\nfor, as I have shown, it is not necessary to know that we know that we\nknow....\n\nHe who has a true idea knows at the same time that he has a true idea,\nnor can he doubt the truth of the thing. For no one who has a true idea\nis ignorant that a true idea involves the highest certitude; to have a\ntrue idea signifying just this, to know a thing perfectly or as well as\npossible. No one, in fact, can doubt this, unless he supposes an idea to\nbe something dumb, like a picture on a tablet, instead of being a mode\nof thought, that is to say, intelligence itself. Moreover, I ask who can\nknow that he understands a thing unless he first of all understands that\nthing? that is to say, who can know that he is certain of anything\nunless he is first of all certain of that thing? Then, again, what can\nbe clearer or more certain than a true idea as the standard of truth?\nJust as light reveals both itself and the darkness, so truth is the\nstandard of itself and of the false.\n\n\n_Of Falsity_\n\nThere is nothing positive in ideas which can constitute a form of\nfalsity. But falsity cannot consist in absolute privation (for we say\nthat minds and not bodies err and are mistaken); nor can it consist in\nabsolute ignorance, for to be ignorant and to be in error are different.\nFalsehood, therefore, consists in the privation of knowledge which is\ninvolved by inadequate knowledge of things or by inadequate and confused\nideas. For instance, men are deceived because they think themselves\nfree, and the sole reason for thinking so is that they are conscious of\ntheir own actions, and ignorant of the causes by which those actions are\ndetermined. Their idea of liberty therefore is this--that they know no\ncause for their own actions; for as to saying that their actions depend\nupon their will, these are words to which no idea is attached. What the\nwill is, and in what manner it moves the body, every one is ignorant,\nfor those who pretend otherwise, and devise seats and dwelling-places of\nthe soul, usually excite our laughter or disgust. Just in the same\nmanner, when we look at the sun, we imagine its distance from us to be\nabout 200 feet; the error not consisting solely in the imagination, but\narising from our not knowing what the true distance is when we imagine,\nand what are the causes of our imagination. For although we may\nafterwards know that the sun is more than 600 diameters of the earth\ndistant from us, we still imagine it near us, since we imagine it to be\nso near, not because we are ignorant of its true distance, but because a\nmodification of our body involves the essence of the sun, in so far as\nour body itself is affected by it.\n\n\n_The Origin and Nature of Confused Ideas_\n\nThe ideas of the modifications of the human body involve the nature both\nof external bodies and of the human body itself and must involve the\nnature not only of the human body, but of its parts, for the\nmodifications are ways in which the parts of the human body, and\nconsequently the whole body, are affected. But an adequate knowledge of\nexternal bodies and of the parts composing the human body does not exist\nin God in so far as He is considered as affected by the human mind, but\nin so far as He is affected by other ideas. These ideas of\nmodifications, therefore, in so far as they are related to the human\nmind alone, are like conclusions without premises, that is to say, as is\nself-evident, they are confused ideas.\n\nThe idea which forms the nature of the mind is demonstrated in the same\nway not to be clear and distinct when considered in itself. So also with\nthe idea of the human mind, and the ideas of the ideas of the\nmodifications of the human body, in so far as they are related to the\nmind alone, as every one may easily see.\n\nAll ideas are in God and in so far as they are related to God are true\nand adequate. No ideas, therefore, are inadequate or confused unless in\nso far as they are related to the individual mind of some person. All\nideas, therefore, both adequate and inadequate, follow by the same\nnecessity.\n\n\n_The Origin and Nature of Adequate Ideas_\n\nLet there be something, _A_, which is common to all bodies, and which is\nequally in the part of each body and in the whole. I say that _A_ can\nonly be adequately conceived. For the idea of _A_ will necessarily be\nadequate in God, both in so far as He has the idea of the human body and\nin so far as He has the idea of its modifications, which involve the\nnature of the human body, and partly also the nature of external bodies;\nthat is to say, this idea will necessarily be adequate in God in so far\nas He constitutes the human mind, or in so far as He has ideas which are\nin the human mind. The mind, therefore, necessarily perceives _A_\nadequately, both in so far as it perceives itself or its own or any\nexternal body; nor can _A_ be conceived in any other manner.\n\nHence it follows that some ideas or notions exist which are common to\nall men, for all bodies agree in some things, which must be adequately,\nthat is to say, clearly and distinctly, perceived by all.\n\nHence it follows also that the more things the body has in common with\nother bodies, the more things will the mind be adapted to perceive.\n\nThose ideas are also adequate which follow in the mind from ideas which\nare adequate in it. For when we say that an idea follows in the human\nmind from ideas which are adequate in it, we do but say that in the\ndivine intellect itself an idea exists of which God is the cause, not in\nso far as He is infinite, nor in so far as He is affected by the ideas\nof a multitude of individual things, but in so far only as He\nconstitutes the essence of the human mind.\n\nI have thus explained the origin of those notions which are called\ncommon, and which are the foundations of our reasoning; but of some\naxioms or notions other causes exist which it would be advantageous to\nexplain by our method, for we should thus be able to distinguish those\nnotions which are more useful than others, and those which are scarcely\nof any use; those which are common; those which are clear and distinct\nonly to those persons who do not suffer from prejudice; and, finally,\nthose which are ill-founded. Moreover, it would be manifest whence these\nnotions which are called _second_, and consequently the axioms founded\nupon them, have taken their origin, and other things, too, would be\nexplained which I have thought about at different times. Since, however,\nI have set apart this subject for another treatise, and because I do not\nwish to create disgust with excessive prolixity, I have determined to\npass by these matters here.\n\nBut not to omit anything which is necessary for us to know, I will\nbriefly give the causes from which terms called _Transcendental_, such\nas _Being_, _Thing_, _Something_, have taken their origin. These terms\nhave arisen because the human body, inasmuch as it is limited, can form\ndistinctly in itself a certain number only of images at once. If this\nnumber be exceeded, the images will become confused; and if the number\nof images which the body is able to form distinctly be greatly exceeded,\nthey will all run one into another. Since this is so, it is clear that\nin proportion to the number of images which can be formed at the same\ntime in the body will be the number of bodies which the human mind can\nimagine at the same time. If the images in the body, therefore, are all\nconfused, the mind will confusedly imagine all the bodies without\ndistinguishing the one from the other, and will include them all, as it\nwere, under one attribute, that of being or thing.\n\nThe same confusion may also be caused by lack of uniform force in the\nimages and from other analogous causes, which there is no need to\ndiscuss here, the consideration of one cause being sufficient for the\npurpose we have in view. For it all comes to this, that these terms\nsignify ideas in the highest degree confused. It is in this way that\nthose notions have arisen which are called _Universal_, such as, _Man_,\n_Horse_, _Dog_, etc.; that is to say, so many images of men, for\ninstance, are formed in the human body at once, that they exceed the\npower of the imagination, not entirely, but to such a degree that the\nmind has no power to imagine the determinate number of men and the small\ndifferences of each, such as color and size, etc. It will therefore\ndistinctly imagine that only in which all of them agree in so far as\nthe body is affected by them, for by that the body was chiefly affected,\nthat is to say, by each individual, and this it will express by the name\n_man_, covering thereby an infinite number of individuals; to imagine a\ndeterminate number of individuals being out of its power.\n\nBut we must observe that these notions are not formed by all persons in\nthe same way, but that they vary in each case according to the thing by\nwhich the body is more frequently affected, and which the mind more\neasily imagines or recollects. For example, those who have more\nfrequently looked with admiration upon the stature of men, by the name\n_man_ will understand an animal of erect stature, while those who have\nbeen in the habit of fixing their thoughts on something else, will form\nanother common image of men, describing man, for instance, as an animal\ncapable of laughter, a biped without feathers, a rational animal, and so\non; each person forming universal images of things according to the\ntemperament of his own body. It is not therefore to be wondered at that\nso many controversies have arisen amongst those philosophers who have\nendeavored to explain natural objects by the images of things alone.\n\n\n_The Three Kinds of Knowledge_\n\nFrom what has been already said, it clearly appears that we perceive\nmany things and form universal ideas:\n\n1. From individual things, represented by the senses to us in a\nmutilated and confused manner, and without order to the intellect. These\nperceptions I have therefore been in the habit of calling knowledge\nfrom vague experience.\n\n2. From signs; as, for example, when we hear or read certain words, we\nrecollect things and form certain ideas of them similar to them, through\nwhich ideas we imagine things. These two ways of looking at things I\nshall hereafter call knowledge of the first kind, opinion or\nimagination.\n\n3. From our possessing common notions and adequate ideas of the\nproperties of things. This I shall call reason and knowledge of the\nsecond kind.\n\nBesides these two kinds of knowledge, there is a third, as I shall\nhereafter show, which we shall call intuitive science. This kind of\nknowing advances from an adequate idea of the formal essence of certain\nattributes of God to the adequate knowledge of the essence of things.\nAll this I will explain by one example. Let there be three numbers given\nthrough which it is required to discover a fourth which shall be to the\nthird as the second is to the first. A merchant does not hesitate to\nmultiply the second and third together and divide the product by the\nfirst, either because he has not yet forgotten the things which he heard\nwithout any demonstration from his school-master, or because he has seen\nthe truth of the rule with the more simple numbers, or because from the\n19th Prop. in the 7th book of Euclid he understands the common property\nof all proportionals.\n\nBut with the simplest numbers there is no need of all this. If the\nnumbers 1, 2, 3, for instance, be given, every one can see that the\nfourth proportional is 6 much more clearly than by any demonstration,\nbecause from the ratio in which we see by one intuition that the first\nstands to the second we conclude the fourth.\n\nTo knowledge of the first kind we have said that all those ideas belong\nwhich are inadequate and confused, and, therefore, this knowledge alone\nis the cause of falsity. Moreover, to knowledge of the second and third\nkind we have said that those ideas belong which are adequate, and\ntherefore this knowledge is necessarily true.\n\nIt is the knowledge of the second and third, and not that of the first\nkind, which teaches us to distinguish the true from the false. For he\nwho knows how to distinguish between the true and the false must have an\nadequate idea of the true and the false, that is to say, he must know\nthe true and the false by the second or third kind of knowledge.\n\n\n_Reason and Imagination_\n\nIt is in the nature of reason to perceive things truly, that is to say,\nas they are in themselves, that is to say, not as contingent but as\nnecessary.\n\nHence it follows that it is through the imagination alone that we look\nupon things as contingent both with reference to the past and the\nfuture.\n\nHow this happens I will explain in a few words. We have shown above that\nunless causes occur preventing the present existence of things, the mind\nalways imagines them present before it, even if they do not exist.\nAgain, we have shown that if the human body has once been simultaneously\naffected by two external bodies, whenever the mind afterwards imagines\none it will immediately remember the other; that is to say, it will\nlook upon both as present before it, unless causes occur which prevent\nthe present existence of the things. No one doubts, too, that we imagine\ntime because we imagine some bodies to move with a velocity less, or\ngreater than, or equal to that of others.\n\nLet us therefore suppose a boy who yesterday, for the first time, in the\nmorning saw Peter, at midday Paul, in the evening Simeon, and to-day in\nthe morning again sees Peter. It is plain that as soon as he sees the\nmorning light he will imagine the sun passing through the same part of\nthe sky as on the day preceding; that is to say, he will imagine the\nwhole day, and at the same time Peter will be connected in his\nimagination with the morning, Paul with midday, and Simeon with the\nevening. In the morning, therefore, the existence of Paul and Simeon\nwill be imagined in relation to future time, while in the evening, if\nthe boy should see Simeon, he will refer Peter and Paul to the past,\nsince they will be connected with the past in his imagination. This\nprocess will be constant in proportion to the regularity with which he\nsees Peter, Paul, and Simeon in this order. If it should by some means\nhappen that on some other evening, in the place of Simeon, he should see\nJames, on the following morning he will connect in his imagination with\nthe evening at one time Simeon and at another James, but not both\ntogether. For he is supposed to have seen one and then the other in the\nevening, but not both together. His imagination will therefore\nfluctuate, and he will connect with a future evening first one and then\nthe other; that is to say, he will consider neither as certain, but both\nas a contingency in the future.\n\nThis fluctuation of the imagination will take place in the same way if\nthe imagination is dealing with things which we contemplate in the same\nway with reference to past or present time, and consequently we imagine\nthings related to time past, present, or future as contingent.\n\n\n_Sub Specie AEternitatis_\n\nIt is of the nature of reason to consider things as necessary and not as\ncontingent. This necessity of things it perceives truly, that is to say,\nas it is in itself. But this necessity of things is the necessity itself\nof the eternal nature of God. Therefore it is of the nature of reason to\nconsider things under this form of eternity. Moreover, the foundations\nof reason are notions which explain those things which are common to\nall, and these things explain the essence of no individual thing, and\nmust therefore be conceived without any relation to time, but under a\ncertain form of eternity.\n\n\n_The Limits of Human Knowledge_\n\nI\n\nThe parts composing the human body pertain to the essence of the body\nitself only in so far as they communicate their motions to one another\nby some certain method, and not in so far as they can be considered as\nindividuals without relation to the human body. For the parts of the\nhuman body are individuals, composite to a high degree, parts of which\ncan be separated from the human body and communicate their motions to\nother bodies in another way, although the nature and form of the human\nbody itself is closely preserved. Therefore the idea or knowledge of\neach part will be in God in so far as He is considered as affected by\nanother idea of an individual thing, which individual thing is prior to\nthe part itself in the order of Nature. The same thing may be said of\neach part of the individual itself composing the human body, and\ntherefore the knowledge of each part composing the human body exists in\nGod in so far as He is affected by a number of ideas of things, and not\nin so far as He has the idea of the human body only; that is to say, the\nidea which constitutes the nature of the human mind; and therefore the\nhuman mind does not involve an adequate knowledge of the parts composing\nthe human body.\n\nWe have shown that the idea of a modification of the human body involves\nthe nature of an external body so far as the external body determines\nthe human body in some certain manner. But in so far as the external\nbody is an individual which is not related to the human body, its idea\nor knowledge is in God, in so far as He is considered as affected by the\nidea of another thing, which idea is prior by nature to the external\nbody itself. Therefore the adequate knowledge of an external body is not\nin God in so far as He has the idea of the modification of the human\nbody, or, in other words, the idea of the modification of the human body\ndoes not involve an adequate knowledge of an external body.\n\nWhen the human mind through the ideas of the modifications of its body\ncontemplates external bodies, we say that it then imagines, nor can the\nmind in any other way imagine external bodies as actually existing.\nTherefore in so far as the mind imagines external bodies it does not\npossess an adequate knowledge of them.\n\n\nII\n\nThe idea of a modification of the human body does not involve an\nadequate knowledge of the body itself, or, in other words, does not\nadequately express its nature, that is to say, it does not correspond\nadequately with the nature of the human mind, and therefore the idea of\nthis idea does not adequately express the nature of the human mind, nor\ninvolve an adequate knowledge of it.\n\nFrom this it is evident that the human mind, when it perceives things in\nthe common order of Nature, has no adequate knowledge of itself nor of\nits own body, nor of external bodies, but only a confused and mutilated\nknowledge; for the mind does not know itself unless in so far as it\nperceives the ideas of the modifications of the body. Moreover, it does\nnot perceive its body unless through those same ideas of the\nmodifications by means of which alone it perceives external bodies.\nTherefore in so far as it possesses these ideas it possesses an adequate\nknowledge neither of itself, nor of its body, nor of external bodies,\nbut merely a mutilated and confused knowledge.\n\nI say expressly that the mind has no adequate knowledge of itself, nor\nof its body, nor of external bodies, but only a confused knowledge, as\noften as it perceives things in the common order of Nature, that is to\nsay, as often as it is determined to the contemplation of this or that\n_externally_--namely, by a chance coincidence, and not as often as it is\ndetermined _internally_--for the reason that it contemplates several\nthings at once, and is determined to understand in what they differ,\nagree, or oppose one another; for whenever it is internally disposed in\nthis or in any other way, it then contemplates things clearly and\ndistinctly.\n\n\nIII\n\nThe duration of our body does not depend upon its essence, nor upon the\nabsolute nature of God, but the body is determined to existence and\naction by causes which also are determined by others to existence and\naction in a certain and determinate manner, whilst these, again, are\ndetermined by others, and so on _ad infinitum_. The duration, therefore,\nof our body depends upon the common order of Nature and the constitution\nof things. But an adequate knowledge of the way in which things are\nconstituted, exists in God in so far as He possesses the ideas of all\nthings, and not in so far as He possesses only the idea of the human\nbody. Therefore the knowledge of the duration of our body is altogether\ninadequate in God, in so far as He is only considered as constituting\nthe nature of the human mind, that is to say, this knowledge in our mind\nis altogether inadequate.\n\nEach individual thing, like the human body, must be determined to\nexistence and action by another individual thing in a certain and\ndeterminate manner, and this again by another, and so on _ad infinitum_.\nBut we have demonstrated in the preceding proposition, from this common\nproperty of individual things, that we have but a very inadequate\nknowledge of the duration of our own body; therefore the same conclusion\nis to be drawn about the duration of individual things, that is to say,\nthat we can have but a very inadequate knowledge of it.\n\nHence it follows that all individual things are contingent and\ncorruptible, for we can have no adequate knowledge concerning their\nduration and this is what is to be understood by us as their contingency\nand capability of corruption; for there is no other contingency but\nthis.\n\n\n_The Mind's Knowledge of God_\n\nThe idea of an individual thing actually existing necessarily involves\nboth the essence and existence of the thing itself. But individual\nthings cannot be conceived without God, and since God is their cause in\nso far as He is considered under that attribute of which they are modes,\ntheir ideas must necessarily involve the conception of that attribute,\nor, in other words, must involve the eternal and infinite essence of\nGod.\n\nBy existence is to be understood here not duration, that is, existence\nconsidered in the abstract, as if it were a certain kind of quantity,\nbut I speak of the nature itself of the existence which is assigned to\nindividual things, because from the eternal necessity of the nature of\nGod infinite numbers of things follow in infinite ways. I repeat, that I\nspeak of the existence itself of individual things in so far as they are\nin God. For although each individual thing is determined by another\nindividual thing to existence in a certain way, the force nevertheless\nby which each thing perseveres in its existence follows from the eternal\nnecessity of the nature of God.\n\nThe demonstration of the preceding proposition is universal, and whether\na thing be considered as a part or as a whole, its idea, whether it be\nof a part or whole, will involve the eternal and infinite essence of\nGod. Therefore that which gives a knowledge of the eternal and infinite\nessence of God is common to all, and is equally in the part and in the\nwhole. This knowledge therefore will be adequate.\n\nThe human mind possesses ideas by which it perceives itself and its own\nbody, together with external bodies, as actually existing. Therefore it\npossesses an adequate knowledge of the eternal and infinite essence of\nGod.\n\nHence we see that the infinite essence and the eternity of God are known\nto all; and since all things are in God and are conceived through Him,\nit follows that we can deduce from this knowledge many things which we\ncan know adequately, and that we can thus form that third sort of\nknowledge. The reason why we do not possess a knowledge of God as\ndistinct as that which we have of common notions is, that we cannot\nimagine God as we can bodies; and because we have attached the name God\nto the images of things which we are in the habit of seeing, an error we\ncan hardly avoid, inasmuch as we are continually affected by external\nbodies.\n\nMany errors, of a truth, consist merely in the application of the wrong\nnames to things. For if a man says that the lines which are drawn from\nthe center of the circle to the circumference are not equal, he\nunderstands by the circle, at all events for the time, something else\nthan mathematicians understand by it. So when men make errors in\ncalculation, the numbers which are in their minds are not those which\nare upon the paper. As far as their mind is concerned there is no error,\nalthough it seems as if there were, because we think that the numbers in\ntheir minds are those which are upon the paper. If we did not think so,\nwe should not believe them to be in error. For example, when I lately\nheard a man complaining that his court had flown into one of his\nneighbor's fowls, I understood what he meant, and therefore did not\nimagine him to be in error. This is the source from which so many\ncontroversies arise--that men either do not properly explain their own\nthoughts, or do not properly interpret those of other people; for, in\ntruth, when they most contradict one another, they either think the same\nthings or something different, so that those things which they suppose\nto be errors and absurdities in another person are not so.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[18] From the _Improvement of the Understanding_, Sec.Sec. 33-35.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nDETERMINISM AND MORALS\n\n\n_The Mind Is Necessarily Determined_\n\nThe mind is a certain and determinate mode of thought, and therefore it\ncannot be the free cause of its own actions, or have an absolute faculty\nof willing or not willing, but must be determined to this or that\nvolition by a cause which is also determined by another cause, and this\nagain by another, and so on _ad infinitum_.\n\nIn the same manner it is demonstrated that in the mind there exists no\nabsolute faculty of understanding, desiring, loving, etc. These and the\nlike faculties, therefore, are either altogether fictitious, or else are\nnothing but metaphysical or universal entities, which we are in the\nhabit of forming from individual cases. The intellect and will,\ntherefore, are related to this or that idea or volition as rockiness is\nrelated to this or that rock, or as man is related to Peter or Paul. The\nreason why men imagine themselves to be free we have already explained.\n\n\n_Faculty Psychology Fallacious_\n\nBefore, however, I advance any further, I must observe that by the will\nI understand a faculty of affirming or denying, but not a desire; a\nfaculty, I say, by which the mind affirms or denies that which is true\nor false, and not a desire by which the mind seeks a thing or turns away\nfrom it. But now that we have demonstrated that these faculties are\nuniversal notions which are not distinguishable from the individual\nnotions from which they are formed, we must now inquire whether the\nvolitions themselves are anything more than the ideas of things. We must\ninquire, I say, whether in the mind there exists any other affirmation\nor negation than that which the idea involves in so far as it is an\nidea. For this purpose see the following, so that thought may not fall\ninto pictures. For by ideas I do not understand the images which are\nformed at the back of the eye, or, if you please, in the middle of the\nbrain, but rather the conceptions of thought.\n\nIn the mind there exists no absolute faculty of willing or not willing.\nOnly individual volitions exist, that is to say, this and that\naffirmation and this and that negation. Let us conceive, therefore, any\nindividual volition, that is, any mode of thought, by which the mind\naffirms that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right\nangles. This affirmation involves the conception or idea of the\ntriangle, that is to say, without it the affirmation cannot be\nconceived. For to say that _A_ must involve the conception _B_, is the\nsame as saying that _A_ cannot be conceived without _B_. Moreover,\nwithout the idea of the triangle this affirmation cannot be, and it can\ntherefore neither be nor be conceived without that idea. But this idea\nof the triangle must involve this same affirmation that its three angles\nare equal to two right angles. Therefore also, _vice versa_, this idea\nof the triangle without this affirmation can neither be nor be\nconceived. Therefore this affirmation pertains to the essence of the\nidea of the triangle, nor is it anything else besides this. Whatever too\nwe have said of this volition (since it has been taken arbitrarily)\napplies to all other volitions, that is to say, they are nothing but\nideas.\n\nThe will and the intellect are nothing but the individual volitions and\nideas themselves. But the individual volition and idea are one and the\nsame. Therefore the will and the intellect are one and the same.\n\n\n_False Doctrines about Error Exposed_\n\nI have thus removed what is commonly thought to be the cause of error.\nIt has been proved above that falsity consists solely in the privation\nwhich mutilated and confused ideas involve. A false idea, therefore, in\nso far as it is false, does not involve certitude. Consequently, when we\nsay that a man assents to what is false and does not doubt it, we do not\nsay that he is certain, but merely that he does not doubt, that is to\nsay, that he assents to what is false, because there are no causes\nsufficient to make his imagination waver. Although, therefore, a man may\nbe supposed to adhere to what is false, we shall never on that account\nsay that he is certain. For by certitude we understand something\npositive, and not the privation of doubt; but by the privation of\ncertitude we understand falsity.\n\nIf the preceding proposition, however, is to be more clearly\ncomprehended, a word or two must be added; it yet remains also that I\nshould answer the objections which may be brought against our doctrine,\nand finally, in order to remove all scruples, I have thought it worth\nwhile to indicate some of its advantages. I say some, as the principal\nadvantages will be better understood later.\n\nI begin, therefore, with the first, and I warn my readers carefully to\ndistinguish between an idea or conception of the mind and the images of\nthings formed by our imagination. Secondly, it is necessary that we\nshould distinguish between ideas and the words by which things are\nsignified. For it is because these three things, images, words, and\nideas, are by many people either altogether confounded or not\ndistinguished with sufficient accuracy and care that such ignorance\nexists about this doctrine of the will, so necessary to be known both\nfor the purposes of speculation and for the wise government of life.\nThose who think that ideas consist of images, which are formed in us by\nmeeting with external bodies, persuade themselves that those ideas of\nthings of which we can form no similar image are not ideas, but mere\nfancies constructed by the free power of the will. They look upon ideas,\ntherefore, as dumb pictures on a tablet, and being prepossessed with\nthis prejudice, they do not see that an idea, in so far as it is an\nidea, involves affirmation or negation. Again, those who confound words\nwith the idea, or with the affirmation itself which the idea involves,\nthink that they can will contrary to their perception, because they\naffirm or deny something in words alone contrary to their perception. It\nwill be easy for us, however, to divest ourselves of these prejudices if\nwe attend to the nature of thought, which in no way involves the\nconception of extension, and by doing this we clearly see that an idea,\nsince it is a mode of thought, is not an image of anything, nor does it\nconsist of words. For the essence of words and images is formed of\nbodily motions alone, which involve in no way whatever the conception of\nthought.\n\nLet thus much suffice under this head. I pass on now to the objections\nto which I have already alluded.\n\n\n_Freedom of the Will_\n\nThe first is, that it is supposed to be certain that the will extends\nitself more widely than the intellect, and is therefore different from\nit. The reason why men suppose that the will extends itself more widely\nthan the intellect is because they say they have discovered that they do\nnot need a larger faculty of assent--that is to say, of affirmation--and\ndenial than that which they now have for the purpose of assenting to an\ninfinite number of other things which we do not perceive, but that they\ndo need a greater faculty for understanding them. The will, therefore,\nis distinguished from the intellect, the latter being finite, the former\ninfinite. The second objection which can be made is that there is\nnothing which experience seems to teach more clearly than the\npossibility of suspending our judgment, so as not to assent to the\nthings we perceive; and we are strengthened in this opinion because no\none is said to be deceived in so far as he perceives a thing, but only\nin so far as he assents to it or dissents from it. For example, a man\nwho imagines a winged horse does not therefore admit the existence of a\nwinged horse; that is to say, he is not necessarily deceived, unless he\ngrants at the same time that a winged horse exists. Experience,\ntherefore, seems to show nothing more plainly than that the will or\nfaculty of assent is free, and different from the faculty of the\nintellect.\n\nThirdly, it may be objected that one affirmation does not seem to\ncontain more reality than another; that is to say, it does not appear\nthat we need a greater power for affirming a thing to be true which is\ntrue than for affirming a thing to be true which is false. Nevertheless,\nwe observe that one idea contains more reality or perfection than\nanother, for as some objects are nobler than others, in the same\nproportion are their ideas more perfect. It appears indisputable,\ntherefore, that there is a difference between the will and the\nintellect.\n\nFourthly, it may be objected that if a man does not act from freedom of\nthe will, what would he do if he were in a state of equilibrium, like\nthe ass of Buridanus? Would he not perish from hunger and thirst? and if\nthis be granted, do we not seem to conceive him as a statue of a man or\nas an ass? If I deny that he would thus perish, he will consequently\ndetermine himself and possess the power of going where he likes and\ndoing what he likes.\n\nThere may be other objections besides these, but as I am not bound to\ndiscuss what every one may dream, I shall therefore make it my business\nto answer as briefly as possible those only which I have mentioned.\n\nIn reply to the first objection, I grant that the will extends itself\nmore widely than the intellect, if by the intellect we understand only\nclear and distinct ideas; but I deny that the will extends itself more\nwidely than the perceptions or the faculty of conception; nor, indeed,\ndo I see why the faculty of will should be said to be infinite any more\nthan the faculty of feeling; for as by the same faculty of will we can\naffirm an infinite number of things (one after the other, for we cannot\naffirm an infinite number of things at once), so also by the same\nfaculty of feeling we can feel or perceive (one after another) an\ninfinite number of bodies. If it be said that there are an infinite\nnumber of things which we cannot perceive, I reply that such things as\nthese we can reach by no thought, and consequently by no faculty of\nwill. But it is said that if God wished us to perceive those things, it\nwould be necessary for Him to give us a larger faculty of perception,\nbut not a larger faculty of will than He has already given us, which is\nthe same thing as saying that if God wished us to understand an infinite\nnumber of other beings, it would be necessary for Him to give us a\ngreater intellect, but not a more universal idea of being (in order to\nembrace that infinite number of beings), than He has given us. For we\nhave shown that the will is a Universal, or the idea by which we explain\nall individual volitions, that is to say, that which is common to them\nall. It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that those who believe this\ncommon or universal idea of all the volitions to be a faculty should say\nthat it extends itself infinitely beyond the limits of the intellect.\nFor the universal is predicated of one or of many, or of an infinite\nnumber of individuals.\n\nThe second objection I answer by denying that we have free power of\nsuspending judgment. For when we say that a person suspends judgment, we\nonly say in other words that he sees that he does not perceive the thing\nadequately. The suspension of the judgment, therefore, is in truth a\nperception and not free will.\n\nIn order that this may be clearly understood, let us take the case of a\nboy who imagines a horse and perceives nothing else. Since this\nimagination involves the existence of the horse, and the boy does not\nperceive anything which negates its existence, he will necessarily\ncontemplate it as present, nor will he be able to doubt its existence\nalthough he may not be certain of it. This is a thing which we daily\nexperience in dreams, nor do I believe that there is any one who thinks\nthat he has the free power during dreams of suspending his judgment upon\nthose things which he dreams, and of causing himself not to dream those\nthings which he dreams that he sees; and yet in dreams it nevertheless\nhappens that we suspend our judgment, for we dream that we dream.\n\nI grant, it is true, that no man is deceived in so far as he perceives;\nthat is to say, I grant that mental images considered in themselves\ninvolve no error; but I deny that a man in so far as he perceives\naffirms nothing. For what else is it to perceive a winged horse than to\naffirm of the horse that it has wings? For if the mind perceived nothing\nelse but this winged horse, it would regard it as present, nor would it\nhave any reason for doubting its existence, nor any power of refusing\nassent to it, unless the image of the winged horse be joined to an idea\nwhich negates its existence, or the mind perceives that the idea of the\nwinged horse which it has is inadequate. In either of the two latter\ncases it will necessarily deny or doubt the existence of the horse.\n\nWith regard to the third objection, what has been said will perhaps be\na sufficient answer--namely, that the will is something universal, which\nis predicated of all ideas, and that it signifies that only which is\ncommon to them all, that is to say, affirmation. Its adequate essence,\ntherefore, in so far as it is thus considered in the abstract, must be\nin every idea, and in this sense only must it be the same in all; but\nnot in so far as it is considered as constituting the essence of an\nidea, for so far, the individual affirmations differ just as the ideas\ndiffer. For example, the affirmation which the idea of a circle involves\ndiffers from that which the idea of a triangle involves, just as the\nidea of a circle differs from the idea of a triangle. Again, I\nabsolutely deny that we need a power of thinking in order to affirm that\nto be true which is true, equal to that which we need in order to affirm\nthat to be true which is false. For these two affirmations, if we look\nto the mind, are related to one another as being and non-being, for\nthere is nothing positive in ideas which constitutes a form of falsity.\n\nHere therefore particularly is it to be observed how easily we are\ndeceived when we confuse universals with individuals, and the entities\nof reason and abstractions with realities.\n\nWith regard to the fourth objection, I say that I entirely grant that if\na man were placed in such a state of equilibrium he would perish of\nhunger and thirst, supposing he perceived nothing but hunger and thirst,\nand the food and drink which were equidistant from him. If you ask me\nwhether such a man would not be thought an ass rather than a man, I\nreply that I do not know; nor do I know what ought to be thought of a\nman who hangs himself, or of children, fools, and madmen.\n\n\n_The Independence of Mind and Body_\n\nAll modes of thought have God for a cause in so far as He is a thinking\nthing, and not in so far as He is manifested by any other attribute.\nThat which determines the mind to thought, therefore, is a mode of\nthought and not of extension, that is to say, it is not the body. Again,\nthe motion and rest of the body must be derived from some other body,\nwhich has also been determined to motion or rest by another, and,\nabsolutely, whatever arises in the body must arise from God, in so far\nas He is considered as affected by some mode of extension, and not in so\nfar as He is considered as affected by any mode of thought, that is to\nsay, whatever arises in the body cannot arise from the mind, which is a\nmode of thought. Therefore, the body cannot determine the mind to\nthought, neither can the mind determine the body to motion nor rest, nor\nto anything else, if there be anything else.\n\nThis proposition will be better understood from what has been said, that\nis to say, that the mind and the body are one and the same thing,\nconceived at one time under the attribute of thought, and at another\nunder that of extension. For this reason, the order or concatenation of\nthings is one, whether nature be conceived under this or under that\nattribute, and consequently the order of the actions and passions of our\nbody is coincident in Nature with the order of the actions and passions\nof the mind.\n\nAlthough these things are so, and no ground for doubting remains, I\nscarcely believe, nevertheless, that, without a proof derived from\nexperience, men will be induced calmly to weigh what has been said, so\nfirmly are they persuaded that, solely at the bidding of the mind, the\nbody moves or rests, and does a number of things which depend upon the\nwill of the mind alone, and upon the power of thought. For what the body\ncan do no one has hitherto determined, that is to say, experience has\ntaught no one hitherto what the body, without being determined by the\nmind, can do and what it cannot do from the laws of Nature alone, in so\nfar as Nature is considered merely as corporeal. For no one as yet has\nunderstood the structure of the body so accurately as to be able to\nexplain all its functions, not to mention the fact that many things are\nobserved in brutes which far surpass human sagacity, and that\nsleep-walkers in their sleep do very many things which they dare not do\nwhen awake; all this showing that the body itself can do many things\nfrom the laws of its own nature alone at which the mind belonging to\nthat body is amazed.\n\nAgain, nobody knows by what means or by what method the mind moves the\nbody, nor how many degrees of motion it can communicate to the body, nor\nwith what speed it can move the body. So that it follows that when men\nsay that this or that action of the body springs from the mind which has\ncommanded over the body, they do not know what they say, and they do\nnothing but confess with pretentious words that they know nothing about\nthe cause of the action, and see nothing in it to wonder at.\n\nBut they will say, that whether they know or do not know by what means\nthe mind moves the body, it is nevertheless in their experience that if\nthe mind were not fit for thinking the body would be inert. They say,\nagain, it is in their experience that the mind alone has power both to\nspeak and be silent, and to do many other things which they therefore\nthink to be dependent on a decree of the mind.\n\nBut with regard to the first assertion, I ask them if experience does\nnot also teach that if the body be sluggish the mind at the same time is\nnot fit for thinking? When the body is asleep, the mind slumbers with\nit, and has not the power to think, as it has when the body is awake.\nAgain, I believe that all have discovered that the mind is not always\nequally fitted for thinking about the same subject, but in proportion to\nthe fitness of the body for this or that image to be excited in it will\nthe mind be better fitted to contemplate this or that object. But my\nopponents will say, that from the laws of Nature alone, in so far as it\nis considered to be corporeal merely, it cannot be that the causes of\narchitecture, painting, and things of this sort, which are the results\nof human art alone, could be deduced, and that the human body, unless it\nwere determined and guided by the mind, would not be able to build a\ntemple. I have already shown, however, that they do not know what the\nbody can do, nor what can be deduced from the consideration of its\nnature alone, and that they find that many things are done merely by the\nlaws of Nature which they would never have believed to be possible\nwithout the direction of the mind, as, for example, those things which\nsleep-walkers do in their sleep, and at which they themselves are\nastonished when they wake. I adduce also here the structure itself of\nthe human body, which so greatly surpasses in workmanship all those\nthings which are constructed by human art, not to mention what I have\nalready proved, that an infinitude of things follows from Nature under\nwhatever attribute it may be considered.\n\nWith regard to the second point, I should say that human affairs would\nbe much more happily conducted if it were equally in the power of men to\nbe silent and to speak. But experience shows over and over again that\nthere is nothing which men have less power over than the tongue, and\nthat there is nothing which they are less able to do than to govern\ntheir appetites, so that many persons believe that we do those things\nonly with freedom which we seek indifferently; as the desire for such\nthings can easily be lessened by the recollection of another thing which\nwe frequently call to mind; it being impossible, on the other hand, to\ndo those things with freedom which we seek with such ardor that the\nrecollection of another thing is unable to mitigate it.\n\nBut if, however, we had not found out that we do many things which we\nafterwards repent, and that when agitated by conflicting emotions we see\nthat which is better and follow that which is worse, nothing would\nhinder us from believing that we do everything with freedom. Thus the\ninfant believes that it is by free will that it seeks the breast; the\nangry boy believes that by free will he wishes vengeance; the timid man\nthinks it is with free will he seeks flight; the drunkard believes that\nby a free command of his mind he speaks the things which when sober he\nwishes he had left unsaid. Thus the madman, the chatterer, the boy, and\nothers of the same kind, all believe that they speak by a free command\nof the mind, whilst, in truth, they have no power to restrain the\nimpulse which they have to speak, so that experience itself, no less\nthan reason, clearly teaches that men believe themselves to be free\nsimply because they are conscious of their own actions, knowing nothing\nof the causes by which they are determined. It[19] teaches, too, that\nthe decrees of the mind are nothing but the appetites themselves, which\ndiffer, therefore, according to the different temper of the body. For\nevery man determines all things from his emotion; those who are agitated\nby contrary emotions do not know what they want, whilst those who are\nagitated by no emotion are easily driven hither and thither.\n\nAll this plainly shows that the decree of the mind, the appetite, and\ndetermination of the body are coincident in Nature, or rather that they\nare one and the same thing, which, when it is considered under the\nattribute of thought and manifested by that, is called a decree, and\nwhen it is considered under the attribute of extension and is deduced\nfrom the laws of motion and rest, is called a determination.\n\nThis, however, will be better understood as we go on, for there is\nanother thing which I wish to be observed here--that we cannot by a\nmental decree do a thing unless we recollect it. We cannot speak a word,\nfor instance, unless we recollect it. But it is not in the free power of\nthe mind either to recollect a thing or to forget it. It is believed,\ntherefore, that the power of the mind extends only thus far--that from a\nmental decree we can speak or be silent about a thing only when we\nrecollect it. But when we dream that we speak, we believe that we do so\nfrom a free decree of the mind; and yet we do not speak, or, if we do,\nit is the result of a spontaneous motion of the body. We dream, again,\nthat we are concealing things, and that we do this by virtue of a decree\nof the mind like that by which, when awake, we are silent about things\nwe know. We dream, again, that from a decree of the mind, we do some\nthings which we should not dare to do when awake. And I should like to\nknow, therefore, whether there are two kinds of decrees in the\nmind--one belonging to dreams and the other free. If this be too great\nnonsense, we must necessarily grant that this decree of the mind, which\nis believed to be free, is not distinguishable from the imagination or\nmemory, and is nothing but the affirmation which the idea necessarily\ninvolves in so far as it is an idea. These decrees of the mind,\ntherefore, arise in the mind by the same necessity as the ideas of\nthings actually existing. Consequently, those who believe that they\nspeak, or are silent, or do anything else from a free decree of the\nmind, dream with their eyes open.\n\n\n_The Moral Values of Determinism_\n\nI\n\nIt remains for me now to show what service to our own lives a knowledge\nof this doctrine is. This we shall easily understand from the remarks\nwhich follow. Notice--\n\n1. It is of service in so far as it teaches us that we do everything by\nthe will of God alone, and that we are partakers of the divine nature in\nproportion as our actions become more and more perfect and we more and\nmore understand God. This doctrine, therefore, besides giving repose in\nevery way to the soul, has also this advantage, that it teaches us in\nwhat our highest happiness or blessedness consists, namely, in the\nknowledge of God alone, by which we are drawn to do those things only\nwhich love and piety persuade. Hence we clearly see how greatly those\nstray from the true estimation of virtue who expect to be distinguished\nby God with the highest rewards for virtue and the noblest actions as if\nfor the completest servitude, just as if virtue itself and the service\nof God were not happiness itself and the highest liberty.\n\n2. It is of service to us in so far as it teaches us how we ought to\nbehave with regard to the things of fortune, or those which are not in\nour power, that is to say, which do not follow from our own nature; for\nit teaches us with equal mind to wait for and bear each form of fortune,\nbecause we know that all things follow from the eternal decree of God,\naccording to that same necessity by which it follows from the essence of\na triangle that its three angles are equal to two right angles.\n\n3. This doctrine contributes to the welfare of our social existence,\nsince it teaches us to hate no one, to despise no one, to mock no one,\nto be angry with no one, and to envy no one. It teaches every one,\nmoreover, to be content with his own, and to be helpful to his neighbor,\nnot from any womanish pity, from partiality, or superstition, but by the\nguidance of reason alone, according to the demand of time and\ncircumstance, as I shall show.\n\n4. This doctrine contributes not a little to the advantage of common\nsociety, in so far as it teaches us by what means citizens are to be\ngoverned and led; not in order that they may be slaves, but that they\nmay freely do those things which are best.\n\n\nII\n\nAt[21] last I see, what it was that you begged me not to publish.\nHowever, as it forms the chief foundation of everything in the\ntreatise[22] which I intend to bring out, I should like briefly to\nexplain here, in what sense I assert that a fatal necessity presides\nover all things and actions.\n\nGod I in no wise subject to fate: I conceive that all things follow with\ninevitable necessity from the nature of God, in the same way as every\none conceives that it follows from God's nature that God understands\nHimself. This latter consequence all admit to follow necessarily from\nthe divine nature, yet no one conceives that God is under the compulsion\nof any fate, but that He understands Himself quite freely, though\nnecessarily.\n\nFurther, this inevitable necessity in things does away neither with\ndivine nor human laws. The principles of morality, whether they receive\nfrom God Himself the form of laws or institutions, or whether they do\nnot, are still divine and salutary; whether we receive the good, which\nflows from virtue and the divine love, as from God in the capacity of a\njudge, or as from the necessity of the divine nature, it will in either\ncase be equally desirable; on the other hand, the evils following from\nwicked actions and passions are not less to be feared because they are\nnecessary consequences.[23] Lastly, in our actions, whether they be\nnecessary or contingent, we are led by hope and fear.\n\nMen are only without excuse before God, because they are in God's power,\nas clay is in the hands of the potter, who from the same lump makes\nvessels, some to honor, some to dishonor.... [24] When I said in my\nformer letter that we are inexcusable, because we are in the power of\nGod, like clay in the hands of the potter, I meant to be understood in\nthe sense that no one can bring a complaint against God for having given\nhim a weak nature, or infirm spirit. A circle might as well complain to\nGod for not being endowed with the properties of a sphere, or a child\nwho is tortured, say, with stone, for not being given a healthy body, as\na man of feeble spirit, because God has denied to him fortitude, and the\ntrue knowledge and love of the Deity, or because he is endowed with so\nweak a nature that he cannot check or moderate his desires. For the\nnature of each thing is only competent to do that which follows\nnecessarily from its given cause.\n\nThat every man cannot be brave, and that we can no more command for\nourselves a healthy body than a healthy mind, nobody can deny, without\ngiving the lie to experience, as well as to reason. \"But,\" you urge, \"if\nmen sin by nature, they are excusable\"; but you do not state the\nconclusion you draw, whether that God cannot be angry with them, or that\nthey are worthy of blessedness--that is, of the knowledge and love of\nGod. If you say the former, I fully admit that God cannot be angry, and\nthat all things are done in accordance with His will; but I deny that\nall men ought, therefore, to be blessed--men may be excusable, and\nnevertheless, be without blessedness and afflicted in many ways.[25] A\nhorse is excusable for being a horse and not a man; but, nevertheless,\nhe must needs be a horse and not a man. He who goes mad from the bite of\na dog is excusable, yet he is rightly suffocated. Lastly, he who cannot\ngovern his desires, and keep them in check with the fear of the laws,\nthough his weakness may be excusable, yet he cannot enjoy with\ncontentment, the knowledge and love of God, but necessarily perishes.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[19] ... I say that a thing is free, which exists and acts solely by the\nnecessity of its own nature. Thus also God understands Himself and all\nthings freely, because it follows solely from the necessity of His\nnature that He should understand all things. You see I do not place\nfreedom in free decision, but in free necessity. However, let us descend\nto created things, which are all determined by external causes to exist\nand operate in a given determinate manner. In order that this may be\nclearly understood, let us conceive a very simple thing. For instance, a\nstone receives from the impulsion of an external cause a certain\nquantity of motion, by virtue of which it continues to move after the\nimpulsion given by the external cause has ceased. The permanence of the\nstone's motion is constrained, not necessary because it must be defined\nby the impulsion of an external cause. What is true of the stone is true\nof an individual, however complicated its nature, or varied its\nfunctions, inasmuch as every individual thing is necessarily determined\nby some external cause to exist and operate in a fixed and determinate\nmanner.\n\nFurther conceive, I beg, that a stone, while continuing in motion,\nshould be capable of thinking and knowing, that it is endeavoring, as\nfar as it can, to continue to move. Such a stone, being conscious merely\nof its own endeavor and not at all indifferent, would believe itself to\nbe completely free, and would think that it continued in motion solely\nbecause of its own wish. This is that human freedom, which all boast\nthat they possess, and which consists solely in the fact, that men are\nconscious of their own desire, but are ignorant of the causes whereby\nthat desire has been determined.[20] ...\n\n[20] _From a letter to G. H. Schaller_ (1674).\n\n[21] _From a letter to Henry Oldenburg_ (Dec., 1675).\n\n[22] The _Ethics_.--ED.\n\n[23] I received on Saturday last your very short letter dated 15th Nov.\nIn it you merely indicated the points in the theological treatise which\nhave given pain to readers, whereas I had hoped to learn from it what\nwere the opinions which militated against the practice of religious\nvirtue.... I make this chief distinction between religion and\nsuperstition; the latter is founded on ignorance, the former on\nknowledge. This, I take it, is the reason why Christians are\ndistinguished from the rest of the world, not by faith, nor by charity,\nnor by the other fruits of the Holy Spirit, but solely by their\nopinions, inasmuch as they defend their cause, like every one else, by\nmiracles, that is, by ignorance, which is the source of all malice. Thus\nthey turn a faith, which may be true, into superstition. _From a letter\nto Henry Oldenburg_ (Dec., 1675).\n\n[24] _From a letter to Henry Oldenburg_ (Feb. 7, 1676).\n\n[25] A mouse no less than an angel, and sorrow no less than joy depend\non God; yet a mouse is not a kind of angel, neither is sorrow a kind of\njoy. _From a letter to Wm. Blyenbergh_ (March 13, 1665).\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nTHE ORIGIN AND NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS\n\n\n_Introductory_\n\nMost persons who have written about the emotions and man's conduct of\nlife seem to discuss, not the natural things which follow the common\nlaws of Nature, but things which are outside her. They seem indeed to\nconsider man in Nature as a kingdom within a kingdom. For they believe\nthat man disturbs rather than follows her order; that he has an absolute\npower over his own actions; and that he is altogether self-determined.\nThey then proceed to attribute the cause of human weakness and\nchangeableness, not to the common power of Nature, but to some vice of\nhuman nature, which they therefore bewail, laugh at, mock, or, as is\nmore generally the case, detest; whilst he who knows how to revile most\neloquently or subtilely the weakness of the mind is looked upon as\ndivine.\n\nIt is true that very eminent men have not been wanting, to whose labor\nand industry we confess ourselves much indebted, who have written many\nexcellent things about the right conduct of life, and who have given to\nmortals counsels full of prudence. But no one so far as I know has\ndetermined the nature and strength of the emotions, and what the mind is\nable to do towards controlling them. I remember, indeed, that the\ncelebrated Descartes, although he believed that the mind is absolute\nmaster over its own actions, tried nevertheless to explain by their\nfirst causes human emotions, and at the same time to show the way by\nwhich the mind could obtain absolute power over them. But in my opinion\nhe has shown nothing but the acuteness of his great intellect, as I\nshall make evident in the proper place, for I wish to return to those\nwho prefer to detest and scoff at human affects and actions than\nunderstand them.\n\nTo such as these it will doubtless seem a marvelous thing for me to\nendeavor to treat by a geometrical method the vices and follies of men,\nand to desire by a sure method to demonstrate those things which these\npeople cry out against as being opposed to reason, or as being vanities,\nabsurdities, and monstrosities. The following is my reason for so doing.\nNothing happens in Nature which can be attributed to any vice of Nature,\nfor she is always the same and everywhere one. Her virtue is the same,\nand her power of acting; that is to say, her laws and rules, according\nto which all things are and are changed from form to form, are\neverywhere and always the same; so that there must also be one and the\nsame method of understanding the nature of all things whatsoever, that\nis to say, by the universal laws and rules of Nature. The emotions,\ntherefore, of hatred, anger, envy, considered in themselves, follow from\nthe same necessity and virtue of Nature as other individual things; they\nhave therefore certain causes through which they are to be understood,\nand certain properties which are just as worthy of being known as the\nproperties of any other thing in the contemplation alone of which we\ndelight. I shall, therefore, pursue the same method in considering the\nnature and strength of the emotions and the power of the mind over them\nwhich I pursued in our previous discussion of God and the mind, and I\nshall consider human actions and appetites just as if I were considering\nlines, planes or bodies.\n\n\n_Definitions_\n\nI.--I call that an adequate cause whose effect can be clearly and\ndistinctly perceived by means of the cause. I call that an inadequate or\npartial cause whose effect cannot be understood by means of the cause\nalone.\n\nII.--I say that we act when anything is done, either within us or\nwithout us, of which we are the adequate cause, that is to say (by the\npreceding Definition), when from our nature anything follows, either\nwithin us or without us, which by that nature alone can be clearly and\ndistinctly understood. On the other hand, I say that we suffer when\nanything is done within us, or when anything follows from our nature, of\nwhich we are not the cause excepting partially.\n\nIII.--By emotion I understand the modifications of the body, by which\nthe power of acting of the body itself is increased, diminished, helped,\nor hindered, together with the ideas of these modifications.\n\nIf, therefore, we can be the adequate cause of any of these\nmodifications, I understand the emotion to be an action, otherwise it is\na passion.\n\n\n_Postulates_\n\n1.--The human body can be affected in many ways by which its power of\nacting is increased or diminished, and also in other ways which make its\npower of acting neither greater nor less.\n\n2.--The human body is capable of suffering many changes, and,\nnevertheless, can retain the impressions or traces of objects, and\nconsequently the same images of things.\n\n\n_The Two States of Mind: Active and Passive_\n\nIn every human mind some ideas are adequate, and others mutilated and\nconfused. But the ideas which in any mind are adequate are adequate in\nGod in so far as He forms the essence of that mind, while those again\nwhich are inadequate in the mind are also adequate in God, not in so far\nas He contains the essence of that mind only, but in so far as He\ncontains the ideas of other things at the same time in Himself. Again,\nfrom any given idea some effect must necessarily follow, of which God is\nthe adequate cause, not in so far as He is infinite, but in so far as He\nis considered as affected with the given idea. But of that effect of\nwhich God is the cause, in so far as He is affected by an idea which is\nadequate in any mind, that same mind is the adequate cause. Our mind,\ntherefore, in so far as it has adequate ideas, necessarily at times\nacts. Again, if there be anything which necessarily follows from an idea\nwhich is adequate in God, not in so far as He contains within Himself\nthe mind of one man only, but also, together with this, the ideas[26]\nof other things, then the mind of that man is not the adequate cause of\nthat thing, but is only its partial cause, and therefore, in so far as\nthe mind has inadequate ideas, it necessarily at times suffers.\n\n\n_The Basic Endeavor of All Things_\n\nIndividual things are modes by which the attributes of God are expressed\nin a certain and determinate manner; that is to say, they are things\nwhich express in a certain and determinate manner the power of God, by\nwhich He is and acts. A thing, too, has nothing in itself through which\nit can be destroyed, or which can negate its existence,[27] but, on the\ncontrary, it is opposed to everything which could negate its existence.\nTherefore, in so far as it can and is in itself, it endeavors to\npersevere in its own being.\n\n\n_The Three Primary Emotions_\n\nI\n\n_Desire_\n\nThe essence of the mind is composed of adequate and inadequate ideas (as\nwe have shown), and therefore both in so far as it has the former and in\nso far as it has the latter, it endeavors to persevere in its being,\nand endeavors to persevere in it for an indefinite time. But since the\nmind, through the ideas of the modifications of the body, is necessarily\nconscious of itself, it is therefore conscious of its effort.\n\nThis effort, when it is related to the mind alone, is called _will_, but\nwhen it is related at the same time both to the mind and the body, is\ncalled _appetite_, which is therefore nothing but the very essence of\nman, from the nature of which necessarily follow those things which\npromote his preservation, and thus he is determined to do those things.\nHence there is no difference between appetite and desire, unless in this\nparticular, that desire is generally related to men in so far as they\nare conscious of their appetites, and it may therefore be defined as\nappetite of which we are conscious. From what has been said it is plain,\ntherefore, that we neither strive for, wish, seek, nor desire anything\nbecause we think it to be good, but, on the contrary, we adjudge a thing\nto be good because we strive for, wish, seek, or desire it.\n\n\nII\n\n_Joy and Sorrow_\n\nIf anything increases, diminishes, helps, or limits our body's power of\naction, the idea of that thing increases, diminishes, helps, or limits\nour mind's power of thought.\n\nWe thus see that the mind can suffer great changes, and can pass now to\na greater and now to a lesser perfection; these passions explaining to\nus the emotions of joy and sorrow. By _joy_, therefore, in what\nfollows, I shall understand the passion by which the mind passes to a\ngreater perfection; by _sorrow_, on the other hand, the passion by which\nit passes to a less perfection. The emotion of joy, related at the same\ntime both to the mind and the body, I call _pleasurable excitement_\n(_titillatio_) or _cheerfulness_; that of sorrow I call _pain_ or\n_melancholy_. It is, however, to be observed that pleasurable excitement\nand pain are related to a man when one of his parts is affected more\nthan the others; cheerfulness and melancholy, on the other hand, when\nall parts are equally affected. What the nature of desire is I have\nexplained; and besides these three--joy, sorrow, and desire--I know of\nno other primary emotion, the others springing from these.\n\n\n_Definitions of the Principal Emotions_\n\nI.--_Desire_ is the essence itself of man in so far as it is conceived\nas determined to any action by any one of his modifications.\n\n_Explanation._--We have said above, that desire is appetite which is\nself-conscious, and that appetite is the essence itself of man in so far\nas it is determined to such acts as contribute to his preservation. But\nI have taken care to remark that in truth I cannot recognize any\ndifference between human appetite and desire. For whether a man be\nconscious of his appetite or not, it remains one and the same appetite,\nand so, lest I might appear to be guilty of tautology, I have not\nexplained desire by appetite, but have tried to give such a definition\nof desire as would include all the efforts of human nature to which we\ngive the name of appetite, desire, will, or impulse. For I might have\nsaid that desire is the essence itself of man in so far as it is\nconsidered as determined to any action; but from this definition it\nwould not follow that the mind could be conscious of its desire or\nappetite, and therefore, in order that I might include the cause of this\nconsciousness, it was necessary to add the words, _in so far as it is\nconceived as determined to any action by any one of his modifications_.\nFor by a modification of the human essence we understand any\nconstitution of that essence, whether it be innate, whether it be\nconceived through the attribute of thought alone or of extension alone,\nor whether it be related to both. By the word \"desire,\" therefore, I\nunderstand all the efforts, impulses, appetites, and volitions of a man,\nwhich vary according to his changing disposition, and not unfrequently\nare so opposed to one another that he is drawn hither and thither, and\nknows not whither he ought to turn.\n\nII. _Joy_ is man's passage from a less to a greater perfection.\n\nIII. _Sorrow_ is man's passage from a greater to a less perfection.\n\n_Explanation._--I say passage, for joy is not perfection itself. If a\nman were born with the perfection to which he passes, he would possess\nit without the emotion of joy; a truth which will appear the more\nclearly from the emotion of sorrow, which is the opposite to joy. For\nthat sorrow consists in the passage to a less perfection, but not in the\nless perfection itself, no one can deny, since in so far as a man shares\nany perfection he cannot be sad. Nor can we say that sorrow consists in\nthe privation of a greater perfection for privation is nothing. But the\nemotion of sorrow is a reality, and it therefore must be the reality of\nthe passage to a lesser perfection, or the reality by which man's power\nof acting is diminished or limited. As for the definitions of\ncheerfulness, pleasurable excitement, melancholy, and grief, I pass\nthese by, because they are related rather to the body than to the mind,\nand are merely different kinds of joy or of sorrow.\n\nIV. _Astonishment_ is the imagination of an object in which the mind\nremains fixed because this particular imagination has no connection with\nothers.\n\n_Explanation._--That which causes the mind from the contemplation of one\nthing immediately to pass to the thought of another is that the images\nof these things are connected one with the other, and are so arranged\nthat the one follows the other; a process which cannot be conceived when\nthe image of the thing is new, for the mind will be held in the\ncontemplation of the same object until other causes determine it to\nthink of other things. The imagination, therefore, considered in itself,\nof a new object is of the same character as other imaginations; and for\nthis reason I do not class astonishment among the emotions, nor do I see\nany reason why I should do it, since this abstraction of the mind arises\nfrom no positive cause by which it is abstracted from other things, but\nmerely from the absence of any cause by which from the contemplation of\none thing the mind is determined to think other things. I acknowledge,\ntherefore, only three primitive or primary emotions, those of joy,\nsorrow, and desire; and the only reason which has induced me to speak\nof astonishment is, that it has been the custom to give other names to\ncertain emotions derived from the three primitives whenever these\nemotions are related to objects at which we are astonished. This same\nreason also induces me to add the definition of contempt.\n\nV. _Contempt_ is the imagination of an object which so little touches\nthe mind that the mind is moved by the presence of the object to imagine\nthose qualities which are not in it rather than those which are in it.\n\nThe definitions of veneration and scorn I pass by here, because they\ngive a name, so far as I know, to none of the emotions.\n\nVI. _Love_ is joy with the accompanying idea of an external cause.\n\n_Explanation._--This definition explains with sufficient clearness the\nessence of love; that which is given by some authors, who define love to\nbe the will of the lover to unite himself to the beloved object,\nexpresses not the essence of love but one of its properties. In as much\nas these authors have not seen with sufficient clearness what is the\nessence of love, they could not have a distinct conception of its\nproperties, and consequently their definition has by everybody been\nthought very obscure. I must observe, however, when I say that it is a\nproperty in a lover to will a union with the beloved object, that I do\nnot understand by will a consent or deliberation or a free decree of the\nmind (for that this is a fiction we have demonstrated above), nor even a\ndesire of the lover to unite himself with the beloved object when it is\nabsent, nor a desire to continue in its presence when it is present, for\nlove can be conceived without either one or the other of these desires;\nbut by will I understand the satisfaction that the beloved object\nproduces in the lover by its presence, by virtue of which the joy of the\nlover is strengthened, or at any rate supported.\n\nVII. _Hatred_ is sorrow with the accompanying idea of an external cause.\n\n_Explanation._--What is to be observed here will easily be seen from\nwhat has been said in the explanation of the preceding definition.\n\nVIII. _Inclination_ (_propensio_) is a joy with the accompanying idea of\nsome object as being accidentally the cause of joy.\n\nIX. _Aversion_ is sorrow with the accompanying idea of some object which\nis accidentally the cause of the sorrow.\n\nX. _Devotion_ is love towards an object which astonishes us.\n\n_Explanation._--Astonishment arises from the novelty of the object. If,\ntherefore, it should happen that we often imagine the object at which we\nare astonished, we shall cease to be astonished at it, and hence we see\nthat the emotion of devotion easily degenerates into simple love.\n\nXI. _Derision_ is joy arising from the imagination that something we\ndespise is present in an object we hate.\n\n_Explanation._--In so far as we despise a thing we hate do we deny its\nexistence, and so far do we rejoice. But inasmuch as we suppose that a\nman hates what he ridicules, it follows that this joy is not solid.\n\nXII. _Hope_ is a joy not constant, arising from the idea of something\nfuture or past, about the issue of which we sometimes doubt.\n\nXIII. _Fear_ is a sorrow not constant, arising from the idea of\nsomething future or past, about the issue of which we sometimes doubt.\n\n_Explanation._--From these definitions it follows that there is no hope\nwithout fear nor fear without hope, for the person who wavers in hope\nand doubts concerning the issue of anything is supposed to imagine\nsomething which may exclude its existence, and so far, therefore, to be\nsad, and consequently while he wavers in hope, to fear lest his wishes\nshould not be accomplished. So also the person who fears, that is to\nsay, who doubts whether what he hates will not come to pass, imagines\nsomething which excludes the existence of what he hates, and therefore\nis rejoiced, and consequently so far hopes that it will not happen.\n\nXIV. _Confidence_ is joy arising from the idea of a past or future\nobject from which cause for doubting is removed.\n\nXV. _Despair_ is sorrow arising from the idea of a past or future object\nfrom which cause for doubting is removed.\n\n_Explanation._--Confidence, therefore, springs from hope and despair\nfrom fear, whenever the reason for doubting the issue is taken away; a\ncase which occurs either because we imagine a thing past or future to be\npresent and contemplate it as present, or because we imagine other\nthings which exclude the existence of those which made us to doubt.\n\nFor although we can never be sure about the issue of individual objects,\nit may nevertheless happen that we do not doubt it. For elsewhere we\nhave shown that it is one thing not to doubt and another to possess\ncertitude, and so it may happen that from the image of an object either\npast or future we are affected with the same emotion of joy or sorrow as\nthat by which we should be affected from the image of an object present.\n\nXVI. _Gladness_ (_gaudium_) is a joy with the accompanying idea of\nsomething past, which, unhoped for, has happened.\n\nXVII. _Remorse_ is sorrow with the accompanying idea of something past,\nwhich, unhoped for, has happened.\n\nXVIII. _Commiseration_ is sorrow with the accompanying idea of evil\nwhich has happened to some one whom we imagine like ourselves.\n\n_Explanation._--Between commiseration and compassion there seems to be\nno difference, excepting perhaps that commiseration refers rather to an\nindividual emotion and compassion to it as a habit.\n\nXIX. _Favor_ is love towards those who have benefited others.\n\nXX. _Indignation_ is hatred towards those who have injured others.\n\n_Explanation._--I am aware that these names in common bear a different\nmeaning. But my object is not to explain the meaning of words but the\nnature of things, and to indicate them by words whose customary meaning\nshall not be altogether opposed to the meaning which I desire to bestow\nupon them. I consider it sufficient to have said this once for all.\n\nXXI. _Over-estimation_ consists in thinking too highly of another person\nin consequence of our love for him.\n\nXXII. _Contempt_ consists in thinking too little of another person in\nconsequence of our hatred for him.\n\n_Explanation._--Over-estimation and contempt are therefore respectively\neffects or properties of love or hatred, and so over-estimation may be\ndefined as love in so far as it affects a man so that he thinks too much\nof the beloved object; and, on the contrary, contempt may be defined as\nhatred in so far as it affects a man so that he thinks too little of the\nobject he hates.\n\nXXIII. _Envy_ is hatred in so far as it affects a man so that he is sad\nat the good fortune of another person and is glad when any evil happens\nto him.\n\n_Explanation._--To envy is generally opposed compassion\n(_misericordia_), which may therefore be defined as follows,\nnotwithstanding the usual signification of the word:--\n\nXXIV. _Compassion_ is love in so far as it affects a man so that he is\nglad at the prosperity of another person and is sad when any evil\nhappens to him.\n\nI pass now to consider other emotions which are attended by the idea of\nsomething within us as the cause.\n\nXXV. _Self-satisfaction_ is the joy which is produced by contemplating\nourselves and our own power of action.\n\nXXVI. _Humility_ is the sorrow which is produced by contemplating our\nimpotence or helplessness.\n\nSelf-satisfaction is opposed to humility in so far as we understand by\nthe former the joy which arises from contemplating our power of action,\nbut in so far as we understand by it joy attended with the idea of\nsomething done, which we believe has been done by a free decree of our\nmind, it is opposed to repentance, which we may thus define:--\n\nXXVII. _Repentance_ is sorrow accompanied with the idea of something\ndone which we believe has been done by a free decree of our mind.\n\nIt is not to be wondered at that sorrow should always follow all those\nactions which are from _custom_ called wicked, and that joy should\nfollow those which are called good. But that this is chiefly the effect\nof education will be evident from what we have before said. Parents, by\nreprobating what are called bad actions, and frequently blaming their\nchildren whenever they commit them, while they persuade them to what are\ncalled good actions, and praise their children when they perform them,\nhave caused the emotions of sorrow to connect themselves with the\nformer, and those of joy with the latter. Experience proves this, for\ncustom and religion are not the same everywhere; but, on the contrary,\nthings which are sacred to some are profane to others, and what are\nhonorable with some are disgraceful with others. Education alone,\ntherefore, will determine whether a man will repent of any deed or boast\nof it.\n\nXXVIII. _Pride_ is thinking too much of ourselves, through self-love.\n\n_Explanation._--Pride differs, therefore, from over-estimation, inasmuch\nas the latter is related to an external object, but pride to the man\nhimself who thinks of himself too highly. As over-estimation, therefore,\nis an effect or property of love, so pride is an effect or property of\nself-love, and it may therefore be defined as love of ourselves or\nself-satisfaction, in so far as it affects us so that we think too\nhighly of ourselves.\n\nTo this emotion a contrary does not exist, for no one, through hatred of\nhimself, thinks too little of himself; indeed, we may say that no one\nthinks too little of himself, in so far as he imagines himself unable to\ndo this or that thing. For whatever he imagines that he cannot do, that\nthing he necessarily imagines, and by his imagination is so disposed\nthat he is actually incapable of doing what he imagines he cannot do. So\nlong, therefore, as he imagines himself unable to do this or that thing,\nso long is he not determined to do it, and consequently so long it is\nimpossible for him to do it. If, however, we pay attention to what\ndepends upon opinion alone, we shall be able to conceive it possible for\na man to think too little of himself, for it may happen that while he\nsorrowfully contemplates his own weakness he will imagine himself\ndespised by everybody, although nothing could be further from their\nthoughts than to despise him. A man may also think too little of himself\nif in the present he denies something of himself in relation to a future\ntime of which he is not sure; for example, when he denies that he can\nconceive of nothing with certitude, and that he can desire and do\nnothing which is not wicked and base. We may also say that a man thinks\ntoo little of himself when we see that, from an excess of fear or shame,\nhe does not dare to do what others who are his equals dare to do. This\nemotion, to which I will give the name of despondency, may therefore be\nopposed to pride; for as self-satisfaction springs from pride, so\ndespondency springs from humility, and it may therefore be defined thus:\n\nXXIX. _Despondency_ is thinking too little of ourselves through sorrow.\n\n_Explanation._--We are, nevertheless, often in the habit of opposing\nhumility to pride, but only when we attend to their effects rather than\nto their nature. For we are accustomed to call a man proud who boasts\ntoo much, who talks about nothing but his own virtues and other people's\nvices, who wishes to be preferred to everybody else, and who marches\nalong with that stateliness and pomp which belong to others whose\nposition is far above his. On the other hand, we call a man humble who\noften blushes, who confesses his own faults and talks about the virtues\nof others, who yields to every one, who walks with bended head, and who\nneglects to adorn himself. These emotions, humility and despondency, are\nvery rare, for human nature, considered in itself, struggles against\nthem as much as it can, and hence those who have the most credit for\nbeing abject and humble are generally the most ambitious and envious.\n\nXXX. Self-exaltation is joy with the accompanying idea of some action we\nhave done, which we imagine people praise.\n\nXXXI. _Shame_ is sorrow, with the accompanying idea of some action which\nwe imagine people blame.\n\n_Explanation._--A difference, however, is here to be observed between\nshame and modesty. Shame is sorrow which follows a deed of which we are\nashamed. Modesty is the dread or fear of shame, which keeps a man from\ncommitting any disgraceful act. To modesty is usually opposed impudence,\nwhich indeed is not an emotion, as I shall show in the proper place; but\nthe names of emotions, as I have already said, are matters rather of\ncustom than indications of the nature of the emotions. I have thus\ndischarged the task which I set myself of explaining the emotions of\njoy and sorrow. I will advance now to those which I ascribe to desire.\n\nXXXII. _Regret_ is the desire or longing to possess something, the\nemotion being strengthened by the memory of the object itself, and at\nthe same time being restrained by the memory of other things which\nexclude the existence of the desired object.\n\n_Explanation._--Whenever we recollect a thing, as we have often said, we\nare thereby necessarily disposed to contemplate it with the same emotion\nas if it were present before us. But this disposition or effort, while\nwe are awake, is generally restrained by the images of things which\nexclude the existence of the thing which we recollect. Whenever,\ntherefore, we recollect a thing which affects us with any kind of joy,\nwe thereby endeavor to contemplate it with the same emotion of joy as if\nit were present,--an attempt which is, however, immediately restrained\nby the memory of that which excludes the existence of the thing. Regret,\ntherefore, is really a sorrow which is opposed to the joy which arises\nfrom the absence of what we hate. But because the name _regret_ seems to\nconnect this emotion with desire, I therefore ascribe it to desire.\n\nXXXIII. _Emulation_ is the desire which is begotten in us of a thing\nbecause we imagine that other persons have the same desire.\n\n_Explanation._--He who seeks flight because others seek it, he who fears\nbecause he sees others fear, or even he who withdraws his hand and moves\nhis body as if his hand were burning because he sees that another person\nhas burnt his hand, such as these, I say, although they may indeed\nimitate the emotion of another, are not said to emulate it; not because\nwe have recognized one cause for emulation and another for imitation,\nbut because it has been the custom to call that man only emulous who\nimitates what we think noble, useful, or pleasant.\n\nXXXIV. _Thankfulness_ or _gratitude_ is the desire or endeavor of love\nwith which we strive to do good to others who, from a similar emotion of\nlove, have done good to us.\n\nXXXV. _Benevolence_ is the desire to do good to those whom we pity.\n\nXXXVI. _Anger_ is the desire by which we are impelled, through hatred,\nto injure those whom we hate.\n\nXXXVII. _Vengeance_ is the desire which, springing from mutual hatred,\nurges us to injure those who, from a similar emotion, have injured us.\n\nXXXVIII. _Cruelty_ or _ferocity_ is the desire by which a man is\nimpelled to injure any one whom we love or pity.\n\n_Explanation._--To cruelty is opposed mercy, which is not a passion, but\na power of the mind by which a man restrains anger and vengeance.\n\nXXXIX. _Fear_ is the desire of avoiding the greater of two dreaded evils\nby the less.\n\nXL. _Audacity_ is the desire by which we are impelled to do something\nwhich is accompanied with a danger which our equals fear to meet.\n\nXLI. A person is said to be _pusillanimous_ whose desire is restrained\nby the fear of a danger which his equals dare to meet.\n\n_Explanation._--Pusillanimity, therefore, is nothing but the dread of\nsome evil which most persons do not usually fear, and therefore I do not\nascribe it to the emotions of desire. I wished, notwithstanding, to\nexplain it here, because in so far as we attend to desire, pusillanimity\nis the true opposite of the emotion of audacity.\n\nXLII. _Consternation_ is affirmed of the man whose desire of avoiding\nevil is restrained by astonishment at the evil which he fears.\n\n_Explanation._--Consternation is therefore a kind of pusillanimity. But\nbecause consternation springs from a double fear, it may be more aptly\ndefined as that dread which holds a man stupefied or vacillating, so\nthat he cannot remove an evil. I say _stupefied_, in so far as we\nunderstand his desire of removing the evil to be restrained by his\nastonishment. I say also _vacillating_, in so far as we conceive the\nsame desire to be restrained by the fear of another evil which equally\ntortures him, so that he does not know which of the two evils to avoid.\n\nXLIII. _Courtesy_ or _moderation_ is the desire of doing those things\nwhich please men and omitting those which displease them.\n\nXLIV. _Ambition_ is the immoderate desire of glory.\n\n_Explanation._--Ambition is a desire which increases and strengthens all\nthe emotions, and that is the reason why it can hardly be kept under\ncontrol. For so long as a man is possessed by any desire, he is\nnecessarily at the same time possessed by this. _Every noble man_, says\nCicero, _is led by glory, and even the philosophers who write books\nabout despising glory place their names on the title-page_.\n\nXLV. _Luxuriousness_ is the immoderate desire or love of good living.\n\nXLVI. _Drunkenness_ is the immoderate desire and love of drinking.\n\nXLVII. _Avarice_ is the immoderate desire and love of riches.\n\nXLVIII. _Lust_ is the immoderate desire and love of sexual intercourse.\n\n_Explanation._--This desire of sexual intercourse is usually called\nlust, whether it be held within bounds or not. I may add that the five\nlast-mentioned emotions have no contraries, for moderation is a kind of\nambition, and I have already observed that temperance, sobriety, and\nchastity show a power and not a passion of the mind. Even supposing that\nan avaricious, ambitious, or timid man refrains from an excess of\neating, drinking, or sexual intercourse, avarice, ambition, and fear are\nnot therefore the opposites of voluptuousness, drunkenness, or lust. For\nthe avaricious man generally desires to swallow as much meat and drink\nas he can, provided only it belong to another person. The ambitious man,\ntoo, if he hopes he can keep it a secret, will restrain himself in\nnothing, and if he lives amongst drunkards and libertines, will be more\ninclined to their vices just because he is ambitious. The timid man,\ntoo, does what he does not will; and although, in order to avoid death,\nhe may throw his riches into the sea, he remains avaricious; nor does\nthe lascivious man cease to be lascivious because he is sorry that he\ncannot gratify his desire. Absolutely, therefore, these emotions have\nreference not so much to the acts themselves of eating and drinking as\nto the appetite and love itself. Consequently nothing can be opposed to\nthese emotions but nobility of soul and strength of mind, as we shall\nsee afterwards.\n\nThe definitions of jealousy and the other vacillations of the mind I\npass over in silence, both because they are compounded of the emotions\nwhich we have already defined, and also because many of them have no\nnames,--a fact which shows that, for the purposes of life, it is\nsufficient to know these combinations generally. Moreover, it follows\nfrom the definitions of the emotions which we have explained that, they\nall arise from desire, joy, or sorrow, or rather that there are none but\nthese three, which pass under names varying as their relations and\nexternal signs vary. If, therefore, we attend to these primitive\nemotions and to what has been said above about the nature of the mind,\nwe shall be able here to define the emotions in so far as they are\nrelated to the mind alone.\n\n_General definition of the emotions._--Emotion, which is called _animi\npathema_, is a confused idea by which the mind affirms of its body, or\nany part of it, a greater or less power of existence than before; and\nthis increase of power being given, the mind itself is determined to one\nparticular thought rather than to another.\n\n_Explanation._--I say, in the first place, that an emotion or passion of\nthe mind _is a confused idea_. For we have shown that the mind suffers\nonly in so far as it has inadequate or confused ideas. I say again, _by\nwhich the mind affirms of its body, or any part of it, a greater or less\npower of existence than before_. For all ideas which we possess of\nbodies indicate the actual constitution of our body rather than the\nnature of the external body; but this idea, which constitutes the form\nof an emotion, must indicate or express the constitution of the body, or\nof some part of it; which constitution the body or any part of it\npossesses from the fact that its power of action or force of existence\nis increased or diminished, helped or limited. But it is to be observed,\nthat when I say _a greater or less power of existence than before_, I do\nnot mean that the mind compares the present with the past constitution\nof the body, but that the idea which constitutes the form of emotion\naffirms something of the body which actually involves more or less\nreality than before. Moreover, since the essence of the mind consists in\nits affirmation of the actual existence of its body, and since we\nunderstand by perfection the essence itself of the thing, it follows\nthat the mind passes to a greater or less perfection when it is able to\naffirm of its body, or some part of it, something which involves a\ngreater or less reality than before. When, therefore, I have said that\nthe mind's power of thought is increased or diminished, I have wished to\nbe understood as meaning nothing else than that the mind has formed an\nidea of its body, or some part of its body, which expresses more or less\nreality than it had hitherto affirmed of the body. For the value of\nideas and the actual power of thought are measured by the value of the\nobject. Finally, I added, _which being given, the mind itself is\ndetermined to one particular thought rather than to another_, that I\nmight also express the nature of desire in addition to that of joy and\nsorrow, which is explained by the first part of the definition.\n\nI have now, I think, explained the principal emotions and vacillations\nof the mind which are compounded of the three primary emotions, desire,\njoy, and sorrow, and have set them forth through their first causes.\nFrom what has been said it is plain that we are disturbed by external\ncauses in a number of ways, and that, like the waves of the sea agitated\nby contrary winds, we fluctuate in our ignorance of our future and\ndestiny. I have said, however, that I have only explained the principal\nmental complications, and not all which may exist. For by the same\nmethod which we have pursued above it would be easy to show that love\nunites itself to repentance, scorn, shame, etc.; but I think it has\nalready been made clear to all that the emotions can be combined in so\nmany ways, and that so many variations can arise, that no limits can be\nassigned to their number. It is sufficient for my purpose to have\nenumerated only those which are of consequence; the rest, of which I\nhave taken no notice, being more curious than important.\n\nThere is one constantly recurring characteristic of love which I have\nyet to notice, and that is, that while we are enjoying the thing which\nwe desired, the body acquires from that fruition a new disposition by\nwhich it is otherwise determined, and the images of other things are\nexcited in it, and the mind begins to imagine and to desire other\nthings. For example, when we imagine anything which usually delights our\ntaste, we desire to enjoy it by eating it. But whilst we enjoy it the\nstomach becomes full, and the constitution of the body becomes altered.\nIf, therefore, the body being now otherwise disposed, the image of the\nfood, in consequence of its being present, and therefore also the\neffort or desire to eat it, become more intense, then this new\ndisposition of the body will oppose this effort or desire, and\nconsequently the presence of the food which we desired will become\nhateful to us, and this hatefulness is what we call loathing or disgust.\n\nAs for the external modifications of the body which are observed in the\nemotions, such as trembling, paleness, sobbing, laughter, and the like,\nI have neglected to notice them, because they belong to the body alone\nwithout any relationship to the mind.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[26] Hence it follows that the mind is subject to passions in proportion\nto the number of inadequate ideas which it has, and that it acts in\nproportion to the number of adequate ideas which it has.\n\n[27] This proposition is self-evident, for the definition of any given\nthing affirms and does not deny the existence of the thing; that is to\nsay, it posits the essence of the thing and does not negate it. So long,\ntherefore, as we attend only to the thing itself, and not to external\ncauses, we shall discover nothing in it which can destroy it.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nTHE PSYCHOLOGY OF THE EMOTIONS\n\n\n_The Association of the Emotions_\n\nIf the human body has at any time been simultaneously affected by two\nbodies, whenever the mind afterwards imagines one of them, it will\nimmediately remember the other. But the imaginations of the mind\nindicate rather the modifications of our body than the nature of\nexternal bodies, and therefore if the body, and consequently the mind,\nhas been at any time, simultaneously affected by two emotions, whenever\nit is afterwards affected by one of them, it will also be affected by\nthe other.\n\nLet the mind be supposed to be affected at the same time by two\nemotions, its power of action not being increased or diminished by one,\nwhile it is increased or diminished by the other. From the preceding\nproposition it is plain that when the mind is afterwards affected by the\nfirst emotion through its true cause, which (by hypothesis) of itself\nneither increases nor diminishes the mind's power of thinking, it will\nat the same time be affected by the other emotion, which does increase\nor diminish that power, that is to say, it will be affected with joy or\nsorrow; and thus the thing itself will be the cause of joy or of sorrow,\nnot of itself, but accidentally. In the same way it can easily be shown\nthat the same thing may accidentally be the cause of desire.\n\nThe fact that we have contemplated a thing with an emotion of joy or\nsorrow, of which it is not the efficient cause, is a sufficient reason\nfor being able to love or hate it.\n\nWe now understand why we love or hate certain things from no cause which\nis known to us, but merely from sympathy or antipathy, as they say. To\nthis class, too, are to be referred those objects which affect us with\njoy or sorrow solely because they are somewhat like objects which\nusually affect us with those emotions. I know indeed that the writers\nwho first introduced the words \"Sympathy\" and \"Antipathy\" desired\nthereby to signify certain hidden qualities of things, but nevertheless\nI believe that we shall be permitted to understand by those names\nqualities which are plain and well known.\n\nAnything may be accidentally the cause either of hope or fear. Things\nwhich are accidentally the causes either of hope or fear are called good\nor evil omens. In so far as the omens are the cause of hope and fear are\nthey the cause of joy or of sorrow, and consequently so far do we love\nthem or hate them, and endeavor to use them as means to obtain those\nthings for which we hope, or to remove them as obstacles or causes of\nfear. Our natural constitution, too, is such that we easily believe the\nthings we hope for, and believe with difficulty those we fear, and we\nthink too much of the former and too little of the latter. Thus have\nsuperstitions arisen, by which men are everywhere disquieted. I do not\nconsider it worth while to go any further, and to explain here all\nthose vacillations of mind which arise from hope and fear, since it\nfollows from the definition alone of these emotions that hope cannot\nexist without fear, nor fear without hope.\n\nIf we imagine a certain thing to possess something which resembles an\nobject which usually affects the mind with joy or sorrow, although the\nquality in which the thing resembles the object is not the efficient\ncause of these emotions, we shall nevertheless, by virtue of the\nresemblance alone, love or hate the thing.\n\nIf we have been affected with joy or sorrow by any one who belongs to a\nclass or nation different from our own, and if our joy or sorrow is\naccompanied with the idea of this person as its cause, under the common\nname of his class or nation, we shall not love or hate him merely, but\nthe whole of the class or nation to which he belongs.\n\n\n_The Imitation and Reciprocation of the Emotions_\n\nI\n\nThe images of things are modifications of the human body, and the ideas\nof these modifications represent to us external bodies as if they were\npresent, that is to say, these ideas involve both the nature of our own\nbody and at the same time the present nature of the external body. If,\ntherefore, the nature of the external body be like that of our body,\nthen the idea of the external body which we imagine will involve a\nmodification of our body like that of the external body. Therefore, if\nwe imagine any one who is like ourselves to be affected by a\nmodification, this imagination will express a modification of our body\nlike that modification, and therefore we shall be modified with a\nsimilar modification ourselves, because we imagine something like us to\nbe modified with the same. If, on the other hand, we hate a thing which\nis like ourselves, we shall so far be modified by a modification\ncontrary and not similar to that with which it is modified.\n\nIf we imagine that a person enjoys a thing, that will be a sufficient\nreason for making us love the thing and desiring to enjoy it. If we\nimagine that a person enjoys a thing which only one can possess, we do\nall we can to prevent his possessing it. His enjoyment of the thing is\nan obstacle to our joy, and we endeavor to bring into existence\neverything which we imagine conduces to joy, and to remove or destroy\neverything opposed to it, or which we imagine conduces to sorrow.\n\nWe see, therefore, that the nature of man is generally constituted so as\nto pity those who are in adversity and envy those who are in prosperity,\nand he envies with a hatred which is the greater in proportion as he\nloves what he imagines another possesses. We see also that from the same\nproperty of human nature from which it follows that men pity one another\nit also follows that they are envious and ambitious. If we will consult\nexperience, we shall find that she teaches the same doctrine, especially\nif we consider the first years of our life. For we find that children,\nbecause their body is, as it were, continually in equilibrium, laugh and\ncry merely because they see others do the same; whatever else they see\nothers do they immediately wish to imitate; everything which they think\nis pleasing to other people they want. And the reason is, as we have\nsaid, that the images of things are the modifications themselves of the\nhuman body, or the ways in which it is modified by external causes and\ndisposed to this or that action.\n\n\nII\n\nIf we imagine that we are hated by another without having given him any\ncause for it, we shall hate him in return. If we imagine that we have\ngiven just cause for the hatred, we shall then be affected with shame.\nThis, however, rarely happens; we endeavor to affirm everything, both\nconcerning ourselves and concerning the beloved object which we imagine\nwill affect us or the object with joy, and, on the contrary, we endeavor\nto deny everything that will affect either it or ourselves with sorrow.\n\nThis reciprocity of hatred may also arise from the fact that hatred is\nfollowed by an attempt to bring evil upon him who is hated. If,\ntherefore, we imagine that we are hated by any one else, we shall\nimagine him as the cause of some evil or sorrow, and thus we shall be\naffected with sorrow or apprehension accompanied with the idea of the\nperson who hates us as a cause; that is to say, we shall hate him in\nreturn, as we have said above.\n\nIf we imagine that the person we love is affected with hatred towards\nus, we shall be agitated at the same time both with love and hatred. For\nin so far as we imagine that we are hated are we determined to hate him\nin return. But (by hypothesis) we love him notwithstanding, and\ntherefore we shall be agitated both by love and hatred.\n\nIf we imagine that an evil has been brought upon us through the hatred\nof some person towards whom we have hitherto been moved by no emotion,\nwe shall immediately endeavor to return that evil upon him.\n\nIf we imagine that any one like ourselves is affected with hatred\ntowards an object like ourselves which we love, we shall hate him. If we\nimagine that we are beloved by a person without having given any cause\nfor the love we shall love him in return.\n\nIf we imagine that we have given just cause for love, we shall pride\nourselves upon it. This frequently occurs, and we have said that the\ncontrary takes place when we believe that we are hated by another\nperson. This reciprocal love, and consequently this attempt to do good\nto the person who loves us, and who endeavors to do good to us, is\ncalled _thankfulness_ or _gratitude_, and from this we can see how much\nreadier men are to revenge themselves than to return a benefit.\n\nIf we imagine that we are loved by a person we hate, we shall at the\nsame time be agitated both by love and hatred. If the hatred prevail, we\nshall endeavor to bring evil upon the person by whom we are loved. This\nemotion is called Cruelty, especially if it is believed that the person\nwho loves has not given any ordinary reason for hatred.\n\n\n_The \"Herd Instinct\"_\n\nIf we imagine men to love or hate a thing, we shall therefore love or\nhate it; that is to say, we shall therefore rejoice or be sad at the\npresence of the thing, and therefore we shall endeavor to do everything\nwhich we imagine men[28] will look upon with joy, and, on the contrary,\nwe shall be averse to doing anything to which we imagine men are averse.\n\nHe who imagines that he affects others with joy or sorrow will\nnecessarily be affected with joy or sorrow. But since man is conscious\nof himself by means of the emotions by which he is determined to act;\ntherefore if a person has done anything which he imagines will affect\nothers with joy, he also will be affected with joy, accompanied with an\nidea of himself as its cause; that is to say, he will look upon himself\nwith joy. If, on the other hand, he has done anything which he imagines\nwill affect others with sorrow, he will look upon himself with sorrow.\n\nIf we imagine that a person loves, desires, or hates a thing which we\nourselves love, desire, or hate, we shall on that account love, desire,\nor hate the thing more steadily. If, on the other hand, we imagine that\nhe is averse to the thing we love or loves the thing to which we are\naverse, we shall then suffer vacillation of mind.\n\nIt follows from this proposition that every one endeavors as much as\npossible to make others love what he loves, and to hate what he hates.\nHence the poet says:\n\n    Speremus pariter, pariter metuamus amantes;\n    Ferreus est, si quis, quod sinit alter, amat.\n\nThis effort to make every one approve what we love or hate is in truth\nambition, and so we see that each person by nature desires that other\npersons should live according to his way of thinking; but if every one\ndoes this, then all are a hindrance to one another, and if every one\nwishes to be praised or beloved by the rest, then they all hate one\nanother.\n\n\n_The Varieties of Emotion_\n\nJoy and sorrow, and consequently the emotions which are compounded of\nthese or derived from them, are passions. But we necessarily suffer in\nso far as we have inadequate ideas, and only in so far as we have them;\nthat is to say, we necessarily suffer only in so far as we imagine, or\nin so far as we are affected by a modification which involves the nature\nof our body and that of an external body. The nature, therefore, of each\npassion must necessarily be explained in such a manner, that the nature\nof the object by which we are affected is expressed. The joy, for\nexample, which springs from an object _A_ involves the nature of that\nobject _A_, and the joy which springs from _B_ involves the nature of\nthat object _B_, and therefore these two emotions of joy are of a\ndifferent nature, because they arise from causes of a different nature.\nIn like manner the emotion of sorrow which arises from one object is of\na different kind from that which arises from another cause, and the same\nthing is to be understood of love, hatred, hope, fear, vacillation of\nmind, etc.; so that there are necessarily just as many kinds of joy,\nsorrow, love, hatred, etc., as there are kinds of objects by which we\nare affected. But desire is the essence itself or nature of a person in\nso far as this nature is conceived from its given constitution as\ndetermined towards any action, and therefore as a person is affected by\nexternal causes with this or that kind of joy, sorrow, love, hatred,\netc., that is to say, as his nature is constituted in this or that way,\nso must his desire vary and the nature of one desire differ from that of\nanother, just as the emotions from which each desire arises differ.\nThere are as many kinds of desires, therefore, as there are kinds of\njoy, sorrow, love, etc., and, consequently (as we have just shown), as\nthere are kinds of objects by which we are affected.\n\nAll emotions are related to desire, joy, or sorrow, as the definitions\nshow which we have given of those emotions. But desire is the very\nnature or essence of a person and therefore the desire of one person\ndiffers from the desire of another as much as the nature or essence of\nthe one differs from that of the other. Again, joy and sorrow are\npassions by which the power of a person or his effort to persevere in\nhis own being is increased or diminished, helped, or limited. But by the\neffort to persevere in his own being, in so far as it is related at the\nsame time to the mind and the body, we understand appetite and desire,\nand therefore joy and sorrow are desire or appetite in so far as the\nlatter is increased, diminished, helped, or limited by external causes;\nthat is to say they are the nature itself of each person.\n\nThe joy or sorrow of one person therefore differs from the joy or sorrow\nof another as much as the nature or essence of one person differs from\nthat of the other, and consequently the emotion of one person differs\nfrom the corresponding emotion of another.\n\nHence it follows that the emotions of animals which are called\nirrational (for after we have learned the origin of the mind we can in\nno way doubt that brutes feel) differ from human emotions as much as\nthe nature of a brute differs from that of a man. Both the man and the\nhorse, for example, are swayed by the lust to propagate, but the horse\nis swayed by equine lust and the man by that which is human. The lusts\nand appetites of insects, fishes, and birds must vary in the same way;\nand so, although each individual lives contented with its own nature and\ndelights in it, nevertheless the life with which it is contented and its\njoy are nothing but the idea or soul of that individual, and so the joy\nof one differs in character from the joy of the other as much as the\nessence of the one differs from the essence of the other. Finally, it\nfollows from the preceding proposition that the joy by which the\ndrunkard is enslaved is altogether different from the joy which is the\nportion of the philosopher,--a thing I wished just to hint in passing.\n\n\n_The Inconstancy of the Emotions_\n\nThe human body is affected by external bodies in a number of ways. Two\nmen, therefore, may be affected in different ways at the same time, and\ntherefore they can be affected by one and the same object in different\nways. Again the human body may be affected now in this and now in that\nway, and consequently it may be affected by one and the same object in\ndifferent ways at different times.\n\nWe thus see that it is possible for one man to love a thing and for\nanother man to hate it; for this man to fear what this man does not\nfear, and for the same man to love what before he hated, and to dare to\ndo what before he feared. Again, since each judges according to his own\nemotion what is good and what is evil, what is better and what is\nworse, it follows that men may change in their judgment as they do in\ntheir emotions, and hence it comes to pass that when we compare men, we\ndistinguish them solely by the difference in their emotions, calling\nsome brave, others timid, and others by other names.\n\nFor example, I shall call a man _brave_ who despises an evil which I\nusually fear, and if, besides this, I consider the fact that his desire\nof doing evil to a person whom he hates or doing good to one whom he\nloves is not restrained by that fear of evil by which I am usually\nrestrained, I call him _audacious_. On the other hand, the man who fears\nan evil which I usually despise will appear _timid_, and if, besides\nthis, I consider that his desire is restrained by the fear of an evil\nwhich has no power to restrain me, I call him _pusillanimous_; and in\nthis way everybody will pass judgment.\n\nFinally, from this nature of man and the inconstancy of his judgment, in\nconsequence of which he often judges things from mere emotion, and the\nthings which he believes contribute to his joy or his sorrow, and which,\ntherefore, he endeavors to bring to pass or remove, are often only\nimaginary--to say nothing about the uncertainty of things--it is easy to\nsee that a man may often be himself the cause of his sorrow or his joy,\nor of being affected with sorrow or joy accompanied with the idea of\nhimself as its cause, so that we can easily understand what repentance\nand what self-approval are.\n\nLove and hatred towards any object, for example, towards Peter, are\ndestroyed if the joy and the sorrow which they respectively involve be\njoined to the idea of another cause; and they are respectively\ndiminished in proportion as we imagine that Peter has not been their\nsole cause.\n\nFor the same reason, love or hatred towards an object we imagine to be\nfree must be greater than towards an object which is under necessity.\n\nAn object which we imagine to be free must be perceived through itself\nand without others. If, therefore, we imagine it to be the cause of joy\nor sorrow, we shall for that reason alone love or hate it, and that too\nwith the greatest love or the greatest hatred which can spring from the\ngiven emotion. But if we imagine that the object which is the cause of\nthat emotion is necessary, then we shall imagine it as the cause of that\nemotion, not alone, but together with other causes, and so our love or\nhatred towards it will be less.\n\nHence it follows that our hatred or love towards one another is greater\nthan towards other things, because we think we are free.\n\n\n_The Power of Love Over Hate_\n\nIf we imagine that the person we hate is affected with hatred towards\nus, a new hatred is thereby produced, the old hatred still remaining (by\nhypothesis). If, on the other hand, we imagine him to be affected with\nlove towards us, in so far as we imagine it shall we look upon ourselves\nwith joy, and endeavor to please him; that is to say, in so far shall we\nendeavor not to hate him nor to affect him with sorrow. This effort will\nbe greater or less as the emotion from which it arises is greater or\nless, and, therefore, should it be greater than that which springs from\nhatred, and by which we endeavor to affect with sorrow the object we\nhate, then it will prevail and banish hatred from the mind. Hatred is\nincreased through return of hatred, but may be destroyed by love.\n\nHatred which is altogether overcome by love passes into love, and the\nlove is therefore greater than if hatred had not preceded it. For if we\nbegin to love a thing which we hated, or upon which we were in the habit\nof looking with sorrow, we shall rejoice for the very reason that we\nlove, and to this joy which love involves a new joy is added, which\nsprings from the fact that the effort to remove the sorrow which hatred\ninvolves, is so much assisted, there being also present before us as the\ncause of our joy the idea of the person whom we hated.\n\nNotwithstanding the truth of this proposition, no one will try to hate a\nthing or will wish to be affected with sorrow in order that he may\nrejoice the more; that is to say, no one will desire to inflict loss on\nhimself in the hope of recovering the loss, or to become ill in the hope\nof getting well, inasmuch as every one will always try to preserve his\nbeing and to remove sorrow from himself as much as possible. Moreover,\nif it can be imagined that it is possible for us to desire to hate a\nperson in order that we may love him afterwards the more, we must always\ndesire to continue the hatred. For the love will be the greater as the\nhatred has been greater, and therefore we shall always desire the hatred\nto be more and more increased. Upon the same principle we shall desire\nthat our sickness may continue and increase in order that we may\nafterwards enjoy the greater pleasure when we get well, and therefore we\nshall always desire sickness, which is absurd.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[28] Both here and in what follows to whom we are moved by no emotion I\nunderstand by the word _men_, men (Sp.).\n\n\n\n\nTHIRD PART\n\nON MAN'S WELL-BEING\n\n\n_All happiness or unhappiness solely depends upon the quality of the\nobject to which we are attached by love. Love for an object eternal and\ninfinite feeds the mind with joy alone, a joy that is free from all\nsorrow_.\n\nSPINOZA.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nOF HUMAN BONDAGE\n\n\n_Introductory_\n\nThe impotence of man to govern or restrain the emotions I call bondage,\nfor a man who is under their control is not his own master, but is\nmastered by fortune, in whose power he is, so that he is often forced to\nfollow the worse, although he sees the better before him. I propose in\nthis part to demonstrate why this is, and also to show what of good and\nevil the emotions possess.\n\nBut before I begin I should like to say a few words about perfection and\nimperfection, and about good and evil. If a man has proposed to do a\nthing and has accomplished it, he calls it perfect, and not only he, but\nevery one else who has really known or has believed that he has known\nthe mind and intention of the author of that work will call it perfect\ntoo. For example, having seen some work (which I suppose to be as yet\nnot finished), if we know that the intention of the author of that work\nis to build a house, we shall call the house imperfect; while, on the\nother hand, we shall call it perfect as soon as we see the work has been\nbrought to the end which the author had determined for it. But if we see\nany work such as we have never seen before, and if we do not know the\nmind of the workman, we shall then not be able to say whether the work\nis perfect or imperfect.\n\nThis seems to have been the first signification of these words; but\nafterwards men began to form universal ideas, to think out for\nthemselves types of houses, buildings, castles, and to prefer some types\nof things to others; and so it happened that each person called a thing\nperfect which seemed to agree with the universal idea which he had\nformed of that thing, and, on the other hand, he called a thing\nimperfect which seemed to agree less with his typal conception,\nalthough, according to the intention of the workman, it had been\nentirely completed. This appears to be the only reason why the words\n_perfect_ and _imperfect_ are commonly applied to natural objects which\nare not made with human hands; for men are in the habit of forming, both\nof natural as well as of artificial objects, universal ideas which they\nregard as types of things, and which they think Nature has in view,\nsetting them before herself as types too; it being the common opinion\nthat she does nothing except for the sake of some end. When, therefore,\nmen see something done by Nature which does not altogether answer to\nthat typal conception which they have of the thing, they think that\nNature herself has failed or committed an error, and that she has left\nthe thing imperfect.\n\nThus we see that the custom of applying the words _perfect_ and\n_imperfect_ to natural objects has arisen rather from prejudice than\nfrom true knowledge of them. For we have shown that Nature does nothing\nfor the sake of an end, for that eternal and infinite Being whom we call\nGod or Nature acts by the same necessity by which He exists; for we have\nshown that He acts by the same necessity of nature as that by which He\nexists. The reason or cause, therefore, why God or Nature acts and the\nreason why He exists are one and the same. Since, therefore, He exists\nfor no end, He acts for no end; and since He has no principle or end of\nexistence, He has no principle or end of action. A final cause, as it is\ncalled, is nothing, therefore, but human desire, in so far as this is\nconsidered as the principle or primary cause of anything. For example,\nwhen we say that the having a house to live in was the final cause of\nthis or that house, we merely mean that a man, because he imagined the\nadvantages of a domestic life, desired to build a house. Therefore,\nhaving a house to live in, in so far as it is considered as a final\ncause, is merely this particular desire, which is really an efficient\ncause, and is considered as primary, because men are usually ignorant of\nthe causes of their desires; for, as I have often said, we are conscious\nof our actions and desires, but ignorant of the causes by which we are\ndetermined to desire anything. As for the vulgar opinion that Nature\nsometimes fails or commits an error, or produces imperfect things, I\nclass it amongst those fictions mentioned above.[29]\n\nPerfection, therefore, and imperfection are really only modes of\nthought; that is to say, notions which we are in the habit of forming\nfrom the comparison with one another of individuals of the same species\nor genus, and this is the reason why I have said that by reality and\nperfection I understand the same thing; for we are in the habit of\nreferring all individuals in Nature to one genus, which is called the\nmost general; that is to say, to the notion of being, which embraces\nabsolutely all the individual objects in Nature. In so far, therefore,\nas we refer the individual objects in Nature to this genus, and compare\nthem one with another, and discover that some possess more being or\nreality than others, in so far do we call some more perfect than others;\nand in so far as we assign to the latter anything which, like\nlimitation, termination, impotence, etc., involves negation, shall we\ncall them imperfect, because they do not affect our minds so strongly as\nthose we call perfect, but not because anything which really belongs to\nthem is wanting, or because Nature has committed an error. For nothing\nbelongs to the nature of anything excepting that which follows from the\nnecessity of the nature of the efficient cause, and whatever follows\nfrom the necessity of the nature of the efficient cause necessarily\nhappens.\n\nWith regard to good and evil, these terms indicate nothing positive in\nthings considered in themselves, nor are they anything else than modes\nof thought, or notions which we form from the comparison of one thing\nwith another. For one and the same thing may at the same time be both\ngood and evil or indifferent. Music, for example, is good to a\nmelancholy person, bad to one mourning, while to a deaf man it is\nneither good nor bad. But although things are so, we must retain these\nwords. For since we desire to form for ourselves an idea of man upon\nwhich we may look as a model of human nature, it will be of service to\nus to retain these expressions in the sense I have mentioned.\n\nBy _good_, therefore, I understand in the following pages everything\nwhich we are certain is a means by which we may approach nearer and\nnearer to the model of human nature we set before us. By _evil_, on the\ncontrary, I understand everything which we are certain hinders us from\nreaching that model. Again, I shall call men more or less perfect or\nimperfect in so far as they approach more or less nearly to this same\nmodel. For it is to be carefully observed, that when I say that an\nindividual passes from a less to a greater perfection and _vice versa_,\nI do not understand that from one essence or form he is changed into\nanother (for a horse, for instance, would be as much destroyed if it\nwere changed into a man as if it were changed into an insect), but\nrather we conceive that his power of action, in so far as it is\nunderstood by his own nature, is increased or diminished. Finally, by\nperfection generally, I understand, as I have said, reality; that is to\nsay, the essence of any object in so far as it exists and acts in a\ncertain manner, no regard being paid to its duration. For no individual\nthing can be said to be more perfect because for a longer time it has\npersevered in existence; inasmuch as the duration of things cannot be\ndetermined by their essence, the essence of things involving no fixed or\ndetermined period of existence; any object, whether it be more or less\nperfect, always being able to persevere in existence with the same force\nas that with which it commenced existence. All things, therefore, are\nequal in this respect.\n\n\n_Definitions_\n\nI.--By good, I understand that which we certainly know is useful to us.\n\nII. By evil, on the contrary, I understand that which we certainly know\nhinders us from possessing anything that is good.\n\nWith regard to these two definitions, see the close of the preceding.\n\nIII. I call individual things contingent in so far as we discover\nnothing, whilst we attend to their essence alone, which necessarily\nposits their existence or which necessarily excludes it.\n\nIV. I call these individual things possible, in so far as we are\nignorant, whilst we attend to the cause from which they must be\nproduced, whether these causes are determined to the production of these\nthings.\n\nV. By contrary emotions, I understand in the following pages those\nwhich, although they may be of the same kind, draw a man in different\ndirections; such as voluptuousness and avarice, which are both a species\nof love, and are not contrary to one another by nature, but only by\naccident.\n\nVI. I here call a thing past or future in so far as we have been or\nshall be affected by it; for example, in so far as we have seen a thing\nor are about to see it, in so far as it has strengthened us or will\nstrengthen us, has injured or will injure us. For in so far as we thus\nimagine it do we affirm its existence; that is to say, the body is\naffected by no mode which excludes the existence of the thing, and\ntherefore the body is affected by the image of the thing in the same way\nas if the thing itself were present. But because it generally happens\nthat those who possess much experience hesitate when they think of a\nthing as past or future, and doubt greatly concerning its issue,\ntherefore the emotions which spring from such images of things are not\nso constant, but are generally disturbed by the images of other things,\nuntil men become more sure of the issue.\n\nHowever, it is to be observed that it is the same with time as it is\nwith place; for as beyond a certain limit we can form no distinct\nimagination of distance--that is to say, as we usually imagine all\nobjects to be equally distant from us, and as if they were on the same\nplane, if their distance from us exceeds 200 feet, or if their distance\nfrom the position we occupy is greater than we can distinctly\nimagine--so we imagine all objects to be equally distant from the\npresent time, and refer them as if to one moment, if the period to which\ntheir existence belongs is separated from the present by a longer\ninterval than we can usually imagine distinctly.\n\nVII. By end for the sake of which we do anything, I understand appetite.\n\nVIII. By virtue and power, I understand the same thing; that is to say,\nvirtue, in so far as it is related to man, is the essence itself or\nnature of the man in so far as it has the power of effecting certain\nthings which can be understood through the laws of its nature alone.\n\n\n_Axiom_\n\nThere is no individual thing in Nature which is not surpassed in\nstrength and power by some other thing; but any individual thing being\ngiven, another and a stronger is also given, by which the former can be\ndestroyed.\n\n\n_Man's Place in Nature_\n\nThe power by which individual things and, consequently, man preserve\ntheir being is the actual power of God or Nature, not in so far as it is\ninfinite, but in so far as it can be manifested by the actual essence of\nman. The power therefore of man, in so far as it is manifested by his\nactual essence is part of the infinite power of God or Nature, that is\nto say, part of His essence. Again, if it were possible that man could\nsuffer no changes but those which can be understood through his nature\nalone, it would follow that he could not perish, but that he would exist\nforever necessarily; and this necessary existence must result from a\ncause whose power is either finite or infinite, that is to say, either\nfrom the power of man alone, which would be able to place at a distance\nfrom himself all other changes which could take their origin from\nexternal causes, or it must result from the infinite power of Nature by\nwhich all individual things would be so directed that man could suffer\nno changes but those tending to his preservation.\n\nBut the first case is absurd. The force by which man perseveres in\nexistence is limited, and infinitely surpassed by the power of external\ncauses. This is evident from the Axiom. Therefore if it were possible\nfor a man to suffer no changes but those which could be understood\nthrough his own nature alone, and consequently (as we have shown) that\nhe should always necessarily exist, this must follow from the infinite\npower of God; and therefore from the necessity of the divine nature, in\nso far as it is considered as affected by the idea of any one man, the\nwhole order of Nature, in so far as it is conceived under the attributes\nof thought and extension, would have to be deduced. From this it would\nfollow that man would be infinite, which (by the first part of this\ndemonstration) is an absurdity. It is impossible, therefore, that a man\ncan suffer no changes but those of which he is the adequate cause.\n\nHence it follows that a man is necessarily always subject to passions,\nand that he follows and obeys the common order of Nature, accommodating\nhimself to it as far as the nature of things requires. The force and\nincrease of any passion and its perseverance in existence are not\nlimited by the power by which we endeavor to persevere in existence, but\nby the power of an external cause compared with our own power.\n\n\n_The Nature of Good and Evil_\n\nWe call a thing good which contributes to the preservation of our being,\nand we call a thing evil if it is an obstacle to the preservation of our\nbeing; that is to say, a thing is called by us good or evil as it\nincreases or diminishes, helps or restrains, our power of action. In so\nfar, therefore, as we perceive that any object affects us with joy or\nsorrow do we call it good or evil, and therefore the knowledge of good\nor evil is nothing but an idea of joy or sorrow which necessarily\nfollows from the emotion itself of joy or sorrow. But this idea is\nunited to the emotion in the same way as the mind is united to the body,\nor, in other words, this idea is not actually distinguished from the\nemotion itself; that is to say, it is not actually distinguished from\nthe idea of the modification of the body, unless in conception alone.\nThis knowledge, therefore, of good and evil is nothing but the emotion\nitself of joy and sorrow in so far as we are conscious of it.\n\n\n_The Control of the Emotions_\n\nAn emotion, in so far as it is related to the mind, is an idea by which\nthe mind affirms a greater or less power of existence for its body than\nthe body possessed before. Whenever, therefore, the mind is agitated by\nany emotion, the body is at the same time affected with a modification\nby which its power of action is increased or diminished. Again, this\nmodification of the body receives from its own cause a power to\npersevere in its own being, a power, therefore, which cannot be\nrestrained nor removed unless by a bodily cause affecting the body with\na modification contrary to the first, and stronger than it. Thus the\nmind is affected by the idea of a modification stronger than the former\nand contrary to it; that is to say, it will be affected with an emotion\nstronger than the former and contrary to it, and this stronger emotion\nwill exclude the existence of the other or remove it. Thus an emotion\ncannot be restrained nor removed unless by an opposed and stronger\nemotion.\n\nAn emotion, in so far as it is related to the mind, cannot be restrained\nnor removed unless by the idea of a bodily modification opposed to that\nwhich we suffer and stronger than it. For the emotion which we suffer\ncannot be restrained nor removed unless by an opposed and stronger\nemotion; that is to say, it cannot be removed unless by the idea of a\nbodily modification stronger than that which affects us, and opposed to\nit.\n\nThe force and increase of any passion and its perseverance in existence\nare limited by the power of an external cause compared with our own\npower and therefore the other actions or power of a man may be so far\nsurpassed by force of some passion or emotion, that the emotion may\nobstinately cling to him.\n\nAn emotion is an idea by which the mind affirms a greater or less power\nof existence for the body than it possessed before, and therefore this\nidea has nothing positive which can be removed by the presence of the\ntruth, and consequently the true knowledge of good and evil, in so far\nas it is true, can restrain no emotion. But in so far as it is an\nemotion will it restrain any other emotion, provided that the latter be\nthe weaker of the two.\n\nFrom the true knowledge of good and evil, in so far as this is an\nemotion, necessarily arises desire, which is greater in proportion as\nthe emotion from which it springs is greater. But this desire (by\nhypothesis), because it springs from our understanding, something truly\nfollows therefore in us in so far as we act, and therefore must be\nunderstood through our essence alone, and consequently its strength and\nincrease must be limited by human power alone. But the desires which\nspring from the emotions by which we are agitated are greater as the\nemotions themselves are greater, and therefore their strength and\nincrease must be limited by the power of external causes, a power which,\nif it be compared with our own, indefinitely surpasses it. The desires,\ntherefore, which take their origin from such emotions as these may be\nmuch stronger than that which takes its origin from a true knowledge of\ngood and evil, and the former may be able to restrain and extinguish the\nlatter.\n\nDesire is the very essence of man, that is to say, the effort by which a\nman strives to persevere in his being. The desire, therefore, which\nsprings from joy, by that very emotion of joy is assisted or increased,\nwhile that which springs from sorrow, by that very emotion of sorrow is\nlessened or restrained, and so the force of the desire which springs\nfrom joy must be limited by human power, together with the power of an\nexternal cause, while that which springs from sorrow must be limited by\nhuman power alone. The latter is, therefore, weaker than the former.\n\n\n_How the Strength of the Emotions Varies_\n\nI\n\nThe imagination is an idea by which the mind contemplates an object as\npresent, an idea which nevertheless indicates the constitution of the\nhuman body rather than the nature of the external object. Imagination,\ntherefore, is an emotion in so far as it indicates the constitution of\nthe body. But the imagination increases in intensity in proportion as we\nimagine nothing which excludes the present existence of the external\nobject. If, therefore, we imagine the cause of an emotion to be actually\npresent with us, that emotion will be intenser or stronger than if we\nimagined the cause not to be present.\n\nWhen I said that we are affected by the image of an object in the future\nor the past with the same emotion with which we should be affected if\nthe object we imagined were actually present, I was careful to warn the\nreader that this was true in so far only as we attend to the image alone\nof the object itself, for the image is of the same nature whether we\nhave imagined the object or not; but I have not denied that the image\nbecomes weaker when we contemplate as present other objects which\nexclude the present existence of the future object.\n\nThe image of a past or future object, that is to say, of an object which\nwe contemplate in relation to the past or future to the exclusion of the\npresent, other things being equal, is weaker than the image of a present\nobject, and consequently the emotion towards a future or past object,\nother things being equal, is weaker then than the emotion towards a\npresent object.\n\nThe desire which springs from a knowledge of good and evil can be easily\nextinguished or restrained, in so far as this knowledge is connected\nwith the future, by the desire of things which in the present are sweet.\n\n\nII\n\nIn so far as we imagine any object to be necessary do we affirm its\nexistence, and, on the other hand, we deny its existence in so far as we\nimagine it to be not necessary and therefore the emotion towards an\nobject which we imagine as necessary, other things being equal, is\nstronger than that towards an object that is possible, contingent, or\nnot necessary.\n\nIn so far as we imagine an object as contingent, we are not affected by\nthe image of any other object which posits the existence of the first,\nbut, on the contrary (by hypothesis), we imagine some things which\nexclude its present existence. But in so far as we imagine any object in\nthe future to be possible do we imagine some things which posit its\nexistence, that is to say, things which foster hope or fear, and\ntherefore the emotion towards an object which we know does not exist in\nthe present, and which we imagine as possible, other things being equal,\nis stronger than the emotion towards a contingent object.\n\nThe emotion towards an object which we imagine to exist in the present\nis stronger than if we imagined it as future, and is much stronger if we\nimagine the future to be at a great distance from the present time. The\nemotion, therefore, towards an object which we imagine will not exist\nfor a long time is so much feebler than if we imagined it as present,\nand nevertheless is stronger than if we imagined it as contingent; and\ntherefore the emotion towards a contingent object is much feebler than\nif we imagined the object to be present to us.\n\nIn so far as we imagine an object as contingent, we are affected with no\nimage of any other object which posits the existence of the first. On\nthe contrary, we imagine (by hypothesis) certain things which exclude\nits present existence. But in so far as we imagine it in relationship to\npast time are we supposed to imagine something which brings it back to\nthe memory or which excites its image and therefore so far causes us to\ncontemplate it as present. Therefore, the emotion towards a contingent\nobject which we know does not exist in the present, other things being\nequal, will be weaker than the emotion towards a past object.\n\nIn these propositions I consider that I have explained why men are more\nstrongly influenced by an opinion than by true reason, and why the true\nknowledge of good and evil causes disturbance in the mind, and often\ngives way to every kind of lust, whence the saying of the poet, \"_Video\nmeliora proboque, deteriora sequor._\" The same thought appears to have\nbeen in the mind of the Preacher when he said, \"_He that increaseth\nknowledge increaseth sorrow._\" I say these things not because I would be\nunderstood to conclude, therefore, that it is better to be ignorant than\nto be wise, or that the wise man in governing his passions is nothing\nbetter than the fool, but I say them because it is necessary for us to\nknow both the strength and weakness of our nature, so that we may\ndetermine what reason can do and what it cannot do in governing our\nemotions.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[29] Chapter Eight _ad fin._\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\nTHE FOUNDATIONS OF THE MORAL LIFE\n\n\n_Introductory_\n\nI have briefly explained the causes of human impotence and want of\nstability, and why men do not obey the dictates of reason. It remains\nfor me now to show what it is which reason prescribes to us, which\nemotions agree with the rules of human reason, and which, on the\ncontrary, are opposed to these rules. Before, however, I begin to\ndemonstrate these things by our full method, I should like briefly to\nset forth here these dictates of reason, in order that what I have in my\nmind about them may be easily comprehended by all.\n\nSince reason demands nothing which is opposed to Nature, it demands,\ntherefore, that every person should love himself, should seek his own\nprofit--what is truly profitable to him--should desire everything that\nreally leads man to greater perfection, and absolutely that every one\nshould endeavor, as far as in him lies, to preserve his own being. This\nis all true as necessarily as that the whole is greater than its part.\nAgain, since virtue means nothing but acting according to the laws of\nour own nature, and since no one endeavors to preserve his being except\nin accordance with the laws of his own nature, it follows: _Firstly_,\nThat the foundation of virtue is that endeavor itself to preserve our\nown being, and that happiness consists in this--that a man can preserve\nhis own being. _Secondly_, It follows that virtue is to be desired for\nits own sake, nor is there anything more excellent or more useful to us\nthan virtue, for the sake of which virtue ought to be desired.\n_Thirdly_, It follows that all persons who kill themselves are impotent\nin mind, and have been thoroughly overcome by external causes opposed to\ntheir nature.\n\nAgain, we can never free ourselves from the need of something outside us\nfor the preservation of our being, and we can never live in such a\nmanner as to have no intercourse with objects which are outside us.\nIndeed, so far as the mind is concerned, our intellect would be less\nperfect if the mind were alone, and understood nothing but itself. There\nare many things, therefore, outside us which are useful to us, and\nwhich, therefore, are to be sought. Of all these, none more excellent\ncan be discovered than those which exactly agree with our nature. If,\nfor example, two individuals of exactly the same nature are joined\ntogether, they make up a single individual, doubly stronger than each\nalone. Nothing, therefore, is more useful to man than man. Men can\ndesire, I say, nothing more excellent for the preservation of their\nbeing than that all should so agree at every point that the minds and\nbodies of all should form, as it were, one mind and one body; that all\nshould together endeavor as much as possible to preserve their being,\nand that all should together seek the common good of all. From this it\nfollows that men who are governed by reason--that is to say, men who,\nunder the guidance of reason, seek their own profit--desire nothing for\nthemselves which they do not desire for other men, and that, therefore,\nthey are just, faithful, and honorable.\n\nThese are those dictates of reason which I purposed briefly to set forth\nbefore commencing their demonstration by a fuller method, in order that,\nif possible, I might win the attention of those who believe that this\nprinciple--that every one is bound to seek his own profit--is the\nfoundation of impiety, and not of virtue and piety.\n\n\n_The Essence of Virtue_\n\nI\n\nAccording to the laws of his own nature each person necessarily desires\nthat which he considers to be good, and avoids that which he considers\nto be evil.\n\nThe more each person strives and is able to seek his own profit, that is\nto say, to preserve his being, the more virtue does he possess; on the\nother hand, in so far as each person neglects his own profit, that is to\nsay, neglects to preserve his own being, is he impotent.\n\nNo one, therefore, unless defeated by external causes and those which\nare contrary to his nature, neglects to seek his own profit or preserve\nhis being. No one, I say, refuses food or kills himself from a necessity\nof his nature, but only when forced by external causes. The compulsion\nmay be exercised in many ways. A man kills himself under compulsion by\nanother when that other turns the right hand, with which the man had by\nchance laid hold of a sword, and compels him to direct the sword against\nhis own heart; or the command of a tyrant may compel a man, as it did\nSeneca, to open his own veins, that is to say, he may desire to avoid a\ngreater evil by a less. External and hidden causes also may so dispose\nhis imagination and may so affect his body as to cause it to put on\nanother nature contrary to that which it had at first, and one whose\nidea cannot exist in the mind; but a very little reflection will show\nthat it is as impossible that a man, from the necessity of his nature,\nshould endeavor not to exist, or to be changed into some other form, as\nit is that something should be begotten from nothing.\n\nThe endeavor after self-preservation is the essence itself of a thing.\nIf, therefore, any virtue could be conceived prior to this of\nself-preservation, the essence itself of the thing would be conceived as\nprior to itself, which (as is self-evident) is absurd.\n\nThe endeavor after self-preservation is the primary and only foundation\nof virtue. For prior to this principle no other can be conceived, and\nwithout it no virtue can be conceived.\n\nNo one endeavors to preserve his own being for the sake of another\nobject. For if a man endeavored to preserve his being for the sake of\nany other object, this object would then become the primary foundation\nof virtue (as is self-evident), which is an absurdity.\n\nNo one can desire to be happy, to act well and live well, who does not\nat the same time desire to be, to act, and to live, that is to say,\nactually to exist.\n\n\nII\n\nTo act absolutely in conformity with virtue is nothing but acting\naccording to the laws of our own proper nature. But only in so far as\nwe understand do we act. Therefore, to act in conformity with virtue is\nnothing but acting, living, and preserving our being as reason directs,\nand doing so from the ground of seeking our own profit.[30]\n\nIn so far as a man is determined to action because he has inadequate\nideas he suffers, that is to say, he does something which through his\nessence alone cannot be perceived, that is to say, which does not follow\nfrom his virtue. But in so far as he is determined to any action because\nhe understands, he acts, that is to say he does something which is\nperceived through his essence alone, or which adequately follows from\nhis virtue.\n\n\n_The Highest Virtue of Reason_\n\nAll efforts which we make through reason are nothing but efforts to\nunderstand, and the mind, in so far as it uses reason, adjudges nothing\nas profitable to itself excepting that which conduces to understanding.\n\nThe mind, in so far as it reasons, desires nothing but to understand,\nnor does it adjudge anything to be profitable to itself excepting what\nconduces to understanding. But the mind possesses no certitude, unless\nin so far as it possesses adequate ideas, or in so far as it reasons. We\ndo not know, therefore, that anything is certainly good, excepting that\nwhich actually conduces to understanding, and, on the other hand, we do\nnot know that anything is evil excepting that which can hinder us from\nunderstanding.\n\nThe highest thing which the mind can understand is God, that is to say,\nBeing absolutely infinite, and without whom nothing can be nor can be\nconceived, and therefore that which is chiefly profitable to the mind,\nor which is the highest good of the mind, is the knowledge of God.\nAgain, the mind acts only in so far as it understands and only in so far\ncan it be absolutely said to act in conformity with virtue. To\nunderstand, therefore, is the absolute virtue of the mind. But the\nhighest thing which the mind can understand is God (as we have already\ndemonstrated), and therefore the highest virtue of the mind is to\nunderstand or know God.\n\n\n_THE MORAL VALUE OF THE EMOTIONS_\n\nI\n\n_General Principles_\n\nThat which so disposes the human body that it can be affected in many\nways, or which renders it capable of affecting external bodies in many\nways, is profitable to man, and is more profitable in proportion as by\nits means the body becomes better fitted to be affected in many ways,\nand to affect other bodies; on the other hand, that thing is injurious\nwhich renders the body less fitted to affect or be affected.\n\nWhatever is effective to preserve the proportion of motion and rest\nwhich the parts of the human body bear to each other is good, and, on\nthe contrary, that is evil which causes the parts of the human body to\nhave a different proportion of motion and rest to each other.\n\nIn what degree these things may injure or profit the mind will be\nexplained below. Here I observe merely that I understand the body to die\nwhen its parts are so disposed as to acquire a different proportion of\nmotion and rest to each other. For I dare not deny that the human body,\nthough the circulation of the blood and the other things by means of\nwhich it is thought to live be preserved, may, nevertheless, be changed\ninto another nature altogether different from its own. No reason compels\nme to affirm that the body never dies unless it is changed into a\ncorpse. Experience, indeed, seems to teach the contrary. It happens\nsometimes that a man undergoes such changes that he cannot very well be\nsaid to be the same man, as was the case with a certain Spanish poet of\nwhom I have heard, who was seized with an illness, and although he\nrecovered, remained, nevertheless, so oblivious of his past life that he\ndid not believe the tales and tragedies he had composed were his own,\nand he might, indeed, have been taken for a grown-up child if he had\nalso forgotten his native tongue. But if this seems incredible, what\nshall we say of children? The man of mature years believes the nature of\nchildren to be so different from his own, that it would be impossible\nto persuade him he had ever been a child, if he did not conjecture\nregarding himself from what he sees of others. But in order to avoid\ngiving to the superstitious matter for new questions, I prefer to go no\nfarther in the discussion of these matters.\n\n\nII\n\n_Value of Joy and Sorrow_\n\nJoy is an emotion by which the body's power of action is increased or\nassisted. Sorrow, on the other hand, is an emotion by which the body's\npower of action is lessened or restrained, and therefore joy is not\ndirectly evil, but good; sorrow, on the other hand, is directly evil.\n\n\nIII\n\n_The Good Emotions_\n\nCheerfulness is joy, which, in so far as it is related to the body,\nconsists in this, that all the parts of the body are equally affected,\nthat is to say, the body's power of action is increased or assisted, so\nthat all the parts acquire the same proportion of motion and rest to\neach other. Cheerfulness, therefore, is always good, and can never be\nexcessive. But melancholy is sorrow, which, in so far as it is related\nto the body consists in this, that the body's power of action is\nabsolutely lessened or restrained, and melancholy, therefore, is always\nevil.\n\nPleasurable excitement is joy, which, in so far as it is related to the\nbody, consists in this, that one or some of the parts of the body are\naffected more than others. The power of this emotion may, therefore, be\nso great as to overcome the other actions of the body. It may cling\nobstinately to the body; it may impede the body in such a manner as to\nrender it less capable of being affected in many ways, and therefore may\nbe evil. Again, pain, which, on the contrary, is sorrow, considered in\nitself alone cannot be good. But because its power and increase is\nlimited by the power of an external cause compared with our own power,\nwe can therefore conceive infinite degrees of strength of this emotion,\nand infinite kinds of it, and we can therefore conceive it to be such\nthat it can restrain an excess of pleasurable excitement, and so far (by\nthe first part of this proposition) preventing the body from becoming\nless capable. So far, therefore, will pain be good.\n\nLove is joy with the accompanying idea of an external cause. Pleasurable\nexcitement, therefore with the accompanying idea of an external cause,\nis love, and therefore love may be excessive. Again, desire is greater\nas the emotion from which it springs is greater. Inasmuch, therefore, as\nan emotion may overpower the other actions of a man, so also the desire\nwhich springs from this emotion may also overpower the other desires,\nand may therefore exist in the same excess which we have shown (in the\npreceding proposition) that pleasurable excitement possesses.\n\nCheerfulness, which I have affirmed to be good, is more easily imagined\nthan observed; for the emotions by which we are daily agitated are\ngenerally related to some part of the body which is affected more than\nthe others, and therefore it is that the emotions exist for the most\npart in excess, and so hold the mind down to the contemplation of one\nobject alone, that it can think about nothing else; and although men are\nsubject to a number of emotions, and therefore few are found who are\nalways under the control of one and the same emotion, there are not\nwanting those to whom one and the same emotion obstinately clings. We\nsee men sometimes so affected by one object, that although it is not\npresent, they believe it to be before them; and if this happens to a man\nwho is not asleep, we say that he is delirious or mad. Nor are those\nbelieved to be less mad who are inflamed by love, dreaming about nothing\nbut a mistress or harlot day and night, for they excite our laughter.\nBut the avaricious man who thinks of nothing else but gain or money, and\nthe ambitious man who thinks of nothing but glory, inasmuch as they do\nharm, and are, therefore, thought worthy of hatred, are not believed to\nbe mad. In truth, however, avarice, lust, etc., are a kind of madness,\nalthough they are not reckoned amongst diseases.\n\n\nIV\n\n_The Evil Emotions_\n\nThe man whom we hate we endeavor to destroy, that is to say we endeavor\nto do something which is evil. Therefore hatred can never be good.[31]\n\nEnvy, mockery, contempt, anger, revenge, and the other affects which are\nrelated to hatred or arise from it, are evil.\n\nEverything which we desire because we are affected by hatred is base and\nunjust in the State.\n\nI make a great distinction between mockery (which I have said is bad)\nand laughter; for laughter and merriment are nothing but joy, and\ntherefore, provided they are not excessive, are in themselves good.\nNothing but a gloomy and sad superstition forbids enjoyment. For why is\nit more seemly to extinguish hunger and thirst than to drive away\nmelancholy? My reasons and my conclusions are these: No God and no human\nbeing, except an envious one, is delighted by my impotence or my\ntrouble, or esteems as any virtue in us tears, sighs, fears, and other\nthings of this kind, which are signs of mental impotence; on the\ncontrary, the greater the joy with which we are affected, the greater\nthe perfection to which we pass thereby, that is to say, the more do we\nnecessarily partake of the divine nature. To make use of things,\ntherefore, and to delight in them as much as possible (provided we do\nnot disgust ourselves with them, which is not delighting in them), is\nthe part of a wise man. It is the part of a wise man, I say, to refresh\nand invigorate himself with moderate and pleasant eating and drinking,\nwith sweet scents and the beauty of green plants, with ornament, with\nmusic, with sports, with the theater, and with all things of this kind\nwhich one man can enjoy without hurting another. For the human body is\ncomposed of a great number of parts of diverse nature, which constantly\nneed new and varied nourishment, in order that the whole of the body may\nbe equally fit for everything which can follow from its nature, and\nconsequently that the mind may be equally fit to understand many things\nat once. This mode of living best of all agrees both with our\nprinciples and with common practice; therefore this mode of living is\nthe best of all, and is to be universally commended. There is no need,\ntherefore, to enter more at length into the subject.\n\nAll emotions of hatred are evil and therefore the man who lives\naccording to the guidance of reason will strive as much as possible to\nkeep himself from being agitated by the emotions of hatred and,\nconsequently, will strive to keep others from being subject to the same\nemotions. But hatred is increased by reciprocal hatred, and, on the\nother hand, can be extinguished by love, so that hatred passes into\nlove. Therefore he who lives according to the guidance of reason will\nstrive to repay the hatred of another, etc., with love, that is to say,\nwith generosity. He who wishes to avenge injuries by hating in return\ndoes indeed live miserably. But he who, on the contrary, strives to\ndrive out hatred by love, fights joyfully and confidently, with equal\nease resisting one man or a number of men, and needing scarcely any\nassistance from fortune. Those whom he conquers yield gladly, not from\ndefect of strength, but from an increase of it. These truths, however,\nall follow so plainly from the definitions alone of love and the\nintellect, that there is no need to demonstrate them singly.\n\n\nV\n\n_Necessary Evils_\n\n(i)\n\nThe emotions of hope and fear cannot exist without sorrow; for fear is\nsorrow, and hope cannot exist without fear. Therefore these emotions\ncannot be good of themselves, but only in so far as they are able to\nrestrain the excesses of joy.\n\nWe may here add that these emotions indicate want of knowledge and\nimpotence of mind, and, for the same reason, confidence, despair,\ngladness, and remorse are signs of weakness of mind. For although\nconfidence and gladness are emotions of joy, they nevertheless suppose\nthat sorrow has preceded them, namely, hope or fear. In proportion,\ntherefore, as we endeavor to live according to the guidance of reason,\nshall we strive as much as possible to depend less on hope, to liberate\nourselves from fear, to rule fortune, and to direct our actions by the\nsure counsels of reason.\n\nHumility is sorrow, which springs from this, that a man contemplates his\nown weakness. But in so far as a man knows himself by true reason is he\nsupposed to understand his essence, that is to say, his power. If,\ntherefore, while contemplating himself, he perceives any impotence of\nhis, this is not due to his understanding himself, but, as we have\nshown, to the fact that his power of actions is restrained. But if we\nsuppose that he forms a conception of his own impotence because he\nunderstands something to be more powerful than himself, by the knowledge\nof which he limits his own power of action, in this case we simply\nconceive that he understands himself distinctly, and his power of action\nis increased. Humility or sorrow, therefore, which arises because a man\ncontemplates his own impotence, does not spring from true contemplation\nor reason, and is not a virtue, but a passion.\n\nRepentance is not a virtue, that is to say, it does not spring from\nreason; on the contrary, the man who repents of what he has done is\ndoubly wretched or impotent. For, in the first place, we allow ourselves\nto be overcome by a depraved desire, and, in the second place, by\nsorrow.\n\nInasmuch as men seldom live as reason dictates, therefore these two\nemotions, humility and repentance, together with hope and fear, are\nproductive of more profit than disadvantage, and therefore, since men\nmust sin, it is better that they should sin in this way. For if men\nimpotent in mind were all equally proud, were ashamed of nothing, and\nfeared nothing, by what bonds could they be united or constrained? The\nmultitude becomes a thing to be feared if it has nothing to fear. It is\nnot to be wondered at, therefore, that the prophets, thinking rather of\nthe good of the community than of a few, should have commended so\ngreatly humility, repentance and reverence. Indeed, those who are\nsubject to these emotions can be led much more easily than others, so\nthat, at last, they come to live according to the guidance of reason,\nthat is to say, become free men, and enjoy the life of the blessed.\n\n\n(ii)\n\nPity is sorrow, and therefore is in itself evil. The good, however,\nwhich issues from pity, namely, that we endeavor to free from misery the\nman we pity, we desire to do from the dictate of reason alone; nor can\nwe do anything except by the dictate of reason alone, which we are sure\nis good. Pity, therefore, in a man who lives according to the guidance\nof reason is in itself bad and unprofitable.\n\nHence it follows that a man who lives according to the dictates of\nreason endeavors as much as possible to prevent himself from being\ntouched by pity.\n\nThe man who has properly understood that everything follows from the\nnecessity of the divine nature, and comes to pass according to the\neternal laws and rules of Nature, will in truth discover nothing which\nis worthy of hatred, laughter, or contempt, nor will he pity any one,\nbut, so far as human virtue is able, he will endeavor to _do well_, as\nwe say, and to _rejoice_. We must add also, that a man who is easily\ntouched by the emotion of pity, and is moved by the misery or tears of\nanother, often does something of which he afterward repents, both\nbecause from an emotion we do nothing which we certainly know to be\ngood, and also because we are so easily deceived by false tears. But\nthis I say expressly of the man who lives according to the guidance of\nreason. For he who is moved neither by reason nor pity to be of any\nservice to others is properly called inhuman; for he seems to be unlike\na man.\n\n\nVI\n\n_Diseased Emotions_\n\nThe primary foundation of virtue is the preservation of our being\naccording to the guidance of reason. The man, therefore, who is ignorant\nof himself is ignorant of the foundation of all the virtues, and\nconsequently is ignorant of all the virtues. Again, to act in conformity\nwith virtue is nothing but acting according to the guidance of reason,\nand he who acts according to the guidance of reason must necessarily\nknow that he acts according to the guidance of reason. He, therefore,\nwho is ignorant of himself, and consequently (as we have just shown)\naltogether ignorant of all the virtues, cannot in any way act in\nconformity with virtue, that is to say, is altogether impotent in mind.\nTherefore the greatest pride or despondency indicates the greatest\nimpotence of mind.\n\nHence follows, with the utmost clearness, that the proud and the\ndesponding are above all others subject to emotions.\n\nDespondency, nevertheless, can be corrected more easily than pride,\nsince the former is an emotion of sorrow, while the latter is an emotion\nof joy, and is therefore stronger than the former.\n\nPride is joy arising from a man's having too high an opinion of himself.\nThis opinion a proud man will endeavor, as much as he can, to cherish,\nand therefore, will love the presence of parasites or flatterers (the\ndefinitions of these people are omitted, because they are too well\nknown), and will shun that of the noble-minded who think of him as is\nright.\n\nIt would take too much time to enumerate here all the evils of pride,\nfor the proud are subject to all emotions, but to none are they less\nsubject than to those of love and pity. It is necessary, however, to\nobserve here that a man is also called proud if he thinks too little of\nother people, and so, in this sense, pride is to be defined as joy which\narises from the false opinion that we are superior to other people,\nwhile despondency, the contrary to this pride, would be defined as\nsorrow arising from the false opinion that we are inferior to other\npeople. This being understood, it is easy to see that the proud man is\nnecessarily envious, and that he hates those above all others who are\nthe most praised on account of their virtues. It follows, too, that his\nhatred of them is not easily overcome by love or kindness and that he is\ndelighted by the presence of those only who humor his weakness, and from\na fool make him a madman.\n\nAlthough despondency is contrary to pride, the despondent man is closely\nakin to the proud man. For since the sorrow of the despondent man arises\nfrom his judging his own impotence by the power of virtue of others, his\nsorrow will be mitigated, that is to say, he will rejoice, if his\nimagination be occupied in contemplating the vices of others. Hence the\nproverb-- It is a consolation to the wretched to have bad companions in\ntheir misfortunes. On the other hand, the more the despondent man\nbelieves himself to be below other people, the more will he sorrow; and\nthis is the reason why none are more prone to envy than the despondent;\nand why they, above all others, try to observe men's actions with a view\nto finding fault with them rather than correcting them, so that at last\nthey praise nothing but despondency and glory in it; but in such a\nmanner, however, as always to seem despondent.\n\nThese things follow from this emotion as necessarily as it follows from\nthe nature of a triangle that its three angles are equal to two right\nangles. It is true, indeed, that I have said that I call these and the\nlike emotions evil, in so far as I attend to human profit alone; but the\nlaws of Nature have regard to the common order of Nature of which man\nis a part--a remark I desired to make in passing, lest it should be\nthought that I talk about the vices and absurdities of men rather than\nattempt to demonstrate the nature and properties of things. As I said, I\nconsider human emotions and their properties precisely as I consider\nother natural objects; and, indeed, the emotions of man, if they do not\nshow his power, show at least the power and workmanship of Nature, no\nless than many other things which we admire and delight to contemplate.\n\n\nVII\n\n_Reasonable Emotions_\n\nIf we live according to the guidance of reason, we shall desire for\nothers the good which we seek for ourselves. Therefore if we see one\nperson do good to another, our endeavor to do good is assisted, that is\nto say, we shall rejoice, and our joy (by hypothesis) will be\naccompanied with the idea of the person who does good to the other, that\nis to say, we shall favor him. Favor is not opposed to reason, but\nagrees with it, and may arise from it.\n\nIndignation, as it is defined by us, is necessarily evil; but it is to\nbe observed that when the supreme authority, constrained by the desire\nof preserving peace, punishes a citizen who injures another, I do not\nsay that it is indignant with the citizen, since it is not excited by\nhatred to destroy him, but punishes him from motives of piety.\n\nSelf-satisfaction is the joy which arises from a man's contemplating\nhimself and his power of action. But man's true power of action or his\nvirtue is reason itself, which he contemplates clearly and distinctly.\nSelf-satisfaction therefore arises from reason. Again, man, when he\ncontemplates himself, perceives nothing clearly and distinctly or\nadequately, excepting those things which follow from his power of\naction, that is to say, those things which follow from his power of\nunderstanding; and therefore from this contemplation alone the highest\nsatisfaction which can exist arises.\n\nSelf-satisfaction is indeed the highest thing for which we can hope, for\n(as we have shown), no one endeavors to preserve his being for the sake\nof any end. Again, because this self-satisfaction is more and more\nnourished and strengthened by praise, and, on the contrary more and more\ndisturbed by blame, therefore we are principally led by glory, and can\nscarcely endure life with disgrace.\n\nSelf-exaltation is not opposed to reason, but may spring from it.\n\nWhat is called vainglory is self-satisfaction, nourished by nothing but\nthe good opinion of the multitude, so that when that is withdrawn, the\nsatisfaction, that is to say, the chief good which every one loves,\nceases. For this reason those who glory in the good opinion of the\nmultitude anxiously and with daily care strive, labor, and struggle to\npreserve their fame. For the multitude is changeable and fickle, so that\nfame, if it be not preserved, soon passes away. As every one, moreover,\nis desirous to catch the praises of the people, one person will readily\ndestroy the fame of another; and consequently, as the object of\ncontention is what is commonly thought to be the highest good, a great\ndesire arises on the part of every one to keep down his fellows by every\npossible means, and he who at last comes off conqueror boasts more\nbecause he has injured another person than because he has profited\nhimself. This glory of self-satisfaction, therefore, is indeed vain, for\nit is really no glory.\n\nWhat is worthy of notice with regard to shame may easily be gathered\nfrom what has been said about compassion and repentance. I will only add\nthat pity, like shame, although it is not a virtue, is nevertheless\ngood, in so far as it shows that a desire of living uprightly is present\nin the man who is possessed with shame, just as pain is called good in\nso far as it shows that the injured part has not yet putrefied. A man,\ntherefore, who is ashamed of what he has done, although he is sorrowful,\nis nevertheless more perfect that the shameless man who has no desire of\nliving uprightly.\n\nThese are the things which I undertook to establish with regard to the\nemotions of joy and sorrow. With reference to the desires, these are\ngood or evil as they spring from good or evil emotions. All of them,\nhowever, in so far as they are begotten in us of emotions which are\npassions, are blind, as may easily be inferred from what has been said,\nnor would they be of any use if men could be easily persuaded to live\naccording to the dictates of reason alone.\n\n\n_The Life of Virtue_\n\nI\n\nAll our efforts or desires follow from the necessity of our nature in\nsuch a manner that they can be understood either through it alone as\ntheir proximate cause, or in so far as we are a part of Nature, which\npart cannot be adequately conceived through itself and without the other\nindividuals.\n\n\nII\n\nThe desires which follow from our nature in such a manner that they can\nbe understood through it alone, are those which are related to the mind,\nin so far as it is conceived to consist of adequate ideas. The remaining\ndesires are not related to the mind, unless in so far as it conceives\nthings inadequately, whose power and increase cannot be determined by\nhuman power, but by the power of objects which are without us. The first\nkind of desires, therefore, are properly called actions, but the latter\npassions; for the first always indicate our power, and the latter, on\nthe contrary, indicate our impotence and imperfect knowledge.\n\n\nIII\n\nOur actions, that is to say, those desires which are determined by man's\npower or reason, are always good; the others may be good as well as\nevil.\n\n\nIV\n\nIt is therefore most profitable to us in life to make perfect the\nintellect or reason as far as possible, and in this one thing consists\nthe highest happiness or blessedness of man; for blessedness is nothing\nbut the peace of mind which springs from the intuitive knowledge of God,\nand to perfect the intellect is nothing but to understand God, together\nwith the attributes and actions of God, which flow from the necessity\nof His nature. The final aim, therefore, of a man who is guided by\nreason, that is to say, the chief desire by which he strives to govern\nall his other desires, is that by which he is led adequately to conceive\nhimself and all things which can be conceived by his intelligence.\n\n\nV\n\nThere is no rational life, therefore, without intelligence and things\nare good only in so far as they assist man to enjoy that life of the\nmind which is determined by intelligence. Those things alone, on the\nother hand, we call evil which hinder man from perfecting his reason and\nenjoying a rational life.\n\n\nVI\n\nBut because all those things of which man is the efficient cause are\nnecessarily good, it follows that no evil can happen to man except from\nexternal causes, that is to say, except in so far as he is a part of the\nwhole of Nature, whose laws human nature is compelled to obey--compelled\nalso to accommodate himself to this whole of Nature in almost an\ninfinite number of ways.\n\n\nVII\n\nIt is impossible that a man should not be a part of Nature and follow\nher common order; but if he be placed amongst individuals who agree with\nhis nature, his power of action will by that very fact be assisted and\nsupported. But if, on the contrary, he be placed amongst individuals who\ndo not in the least agree with his nature, he will scarcely be able\nwithout great change on his part to accommodate himself to them.\n\n\nVIII\n\nAnything that exists in Nature which we judge to be evil or able to\nhinder us from existing and enjoying a rational life, we are allowed to\nremove from us in that way which seems the safest; and whatever, on the\nother hand, we judge to be good or to be profitable for the preservation\nof our being or the enjoyment of a rational life, we are permitted to\ntake for our use and use in any way we may think proper; and absolutely,\nevery one is allowed by the highest right of Nature to do that which he\nbelieves contributes to his own profit.\n\n\nIX\n\nNothing, therefore, can agree better with the nature of any object than\nother individuals of the same kind, and so (see Sec. VII) there is nothing\nmore profitable to man for the preservation of his being and the\nenjoyment of a rational life than a man who is guided by reason. Again,\nsince there is no single thing we know which is more excellent than a\nman who is guided by reason, it follows that there is nothing by which a\nperson can better show how much skill and talent he possesses than by so\neducating men that at last they will live under the direct authority of\nreason.\n\n\nX\n\nIn so far as men are carried away by envy or any emotion of hatred\ntowards one another, so far are they contrary to one another, and\nconsequently so much the more are they to be feared, as they have more\npower than other individuals of nature.\n\n\nXI\n\nMinds, nevertheless, are not conquered by arms, but by love and\ngenerosity.\n\n\nXII\n\nAbove all things is it profitable to men to form communities and to\nunite themselves to one another by bonds which may make all of them as\none man; and absolutely, it is profitable for them to do whatever may\ntend to strengthen their friendships.\n\n\nXIII\n\nBut to accomplish this skill and watchfulness are required; for men are\nchangeable (those being very few who live according to the laws of\nreason), and nevertheless generally envious and more inclined to\nvengeance than pity. To bear with each, therefore, according to his\ndisposition and to refrain from imitating his emotions requires a\nsingular power of mind. But those, on the contrary, who know how to\nrevile men, to denounce vices rather than teach virtues, and not to\nstrengthen men's minds but to weaken them, are injurious both to\nthemselves and others, so that many of them through an excess of\nimpatience and a false zeal for religion prefer living with brutes\nrather than amongst men; just as boys or youths, unable to endure with\nequanimity the rebukes of their parents, fly to the army, choosing the\ndiscomforts of war and the rule of a tyrant rather than the comforts of\nhome and the admonitions of a father, suffering all kinds of burdens to\nbe imposed upon them in order that they may revenge themselves upon\ntheir parents.\n\n\nXIV\n\nAlthough, therefore, men generally determine everything by their\npleasure, many more advantages than disadvantages arise from their\ncommon union. It is better, therefore, to endure with equanimity the\ninjuries inflicted by them, and to apply our minds to those things which\nsubserve concord and the establishment of friendship.\n\n\nXV\n\nThe things which beget concord are those which are related to justice,\nintegrity, and honor; for besides that which is unjust and injurious,\nmen take ill also anything which is esteemed base, or that any one\nshould despise the received customs of the State. But in order to win\nlove, those things are chiefly necessary which have reference to\nreligion and piety.\n\n\nXVI\n\nConcord, moreover, is often produced by fear, but it is without good\nfaith. It is to be observed, too, that fear arises from impotence of\nmind, and therefore is of no service to reason; nor is pity, although it\nseems to present an appearance of piety.\n\n\nXVII\n\nMen also are conquered by liberality, especially those who have not the\nmeans wherewith to procure what is necessary for the support of life.\nBut to assist every one who is needy far surpasses the strength or\nprofit of a private person, for the wealth of a private person is\naltogether insufficient to supply such wants. Besides, the power of any\none man is too limited for him to be able to unite every one with\nhimself in friendship. The care, therefore, of the poor is incumbent on\nthe whole of society and concerns only the general profit.\n\n\nXVIII\n\nIn the receipt of benefits and in returning thanks, care altogether\ndifferent must be taken.\n\n\nXIX\n\nThe love of a harlot, that is to say, the lust of sexual intercourse,\nwhich arises from mere external form, and absolutely all love which\nrecognizes any other cause than the freedom of the mind, easily passes\ninto hatred, unless, which is worse, it becomes a species of delirium,\nand thereby discord is cherished rather than concord.\n\n\nXX\n\nWith regard to marriage, it is plain that it is in accordance with\nreason, if the desire of connection is engendered not merely by external\nform, but by a love of begetting children and wisely educating them; and\nif, in addition, the love both of the husband and wife has for its cause\nnot external form merely, but chiefly liberty of mind.\n\n\nXXI\n\nFlattery, too, produces concord, but only by means of the disgraceful\ncrime of slavery or perfidy; for there are none who are more taken by\nflattery than the proud, who wish to be first and are not so.\n\n\nXXII\n\nThere is a false appearance of piety and religion in dejection; and\nalthough dejection is the opposite of pride, the humble dejected man is\nvery near akin to the proud.\n\n\nXXIII\n\nShame also contributes to concord, but only with regard to those matters\nwhich cannot be concealed. Shame, too, inasmuch as it is a kind of\nsorrow, does not belong to the service of reason.\n\n\nXXIV\n\nThe remaining emotions of sorrow which have man for their object are\ndirectly opposed to justice, integrity, honor, piety, and religion; and\nalthough indignation may seem to present an appearance of equity, yet\nthere is no law where it is allowed to every one to judge the deeds of\nanother, and to vindicate his own or another's right.\n\n\nXXV\n\nAffability, that is to say, the desire of pleasing men, which is\ndetermined by reason, is related to piety. But if affability arise from\nan emotion, it is ambition or desire, by which men, generally under a\nfalse pretense of piety, excite discords and seditions. For he who\ndesires to assist other people, either by advice or by deed, in order\nthat they may together enjoy the highest good, will strive, above all\nthings, to win their love, and not to draw them into admiration, so\nthat a doctrine may be named after him, nor absolutely to give any\noccasion for envy. In common conversation, too, he will avoid referring\nto the vices of men, and will take care only sparingly to speak of human\nimpotence, while he will talk largely of human virtue or power, and of\nthe way by which it may be made perfect, so that men being moved not by\nfear or aversion, but solely by the emotion of joy, may endeavor as much\nas they can to live under the rule of reason.\n\n\nXXVI\n\nExcepting man, we know no individual thing in Nature in whose mind we\ncan take pleasure, nor any thing which we can unite with ourselves by\nfriendship or any kind of intercourse, and therefore regard to our own\nprofit does not demand that we should preserve anything which exists in\nNature excepting men, but teaches us to preserve it or destroy it in\naccordance with its varied uses, or to adapt it to our own service in\nany way whatever.\n\n\nXXVII\n\nThe profit which we derive from objects without us, over and above the\nexperience and knowledge which we obtain because we observe them and\nchange them from their existing forms into others, is chiefly the\npreservation of the body, and for this reason those objects are the most\nprofitable to us which can feed and nourish the body, so that all its\nparts are able properly to perform their functions. For the more capable\nthe body is of being affected in many ways, and affecting external\nbodies in many ways, the more capable of thinking is the mind. But there\nseem to be very few things in Nature of this kind, and it is\nconsequently necessary for the requisite nourishment of the body to use\nmany different kinds of food; for the human body is composed of a great\nnumber of parts of different nature, which need constant and varied food\nin order that the whole of the body may be equally adapted for all those\nthings which can follow from its nature, and consequently that the mind\nalso may be equally adapted to conceive many things.\n\n\nXXVIII\n\nThe strength of one man would scarcely suffice to obtain these things if\nmen did not mutually assist one another. As money has presented us with\nan abstract of everything, it has come to pass that its image above\nevery other usually occupies the mind of the multitude, because they can\nimagine hardly any kind of joy without the accompanying idea of money as\nits cause.\n\n\nXXIX\n\nThis, however, is a vice only in those who seek money not from poverty\nor necessity, but because they have learned the arts of gain, by which\nthey keep up a grand appearance. As for the body itself, they feed it in\naccordance with custom, but sparingly, because they believe that they\nlose so much of their goods as they spend upon the preservation of their\nbody. Those, however, who know the true use of money, and regulate the\nmeasure of wealth according to their needs, live contented with few\nthings.\n\n\nXXX\n\nSince, therefore, those things are good which help the parts of the body\nto perform their functions, and since joy consists in this, that the\npower of man, in so far as he is made up of mind and body, is helped or\nincreased, it follows that all things which bring joy are good. But\ninasmuch as things do not work to this end--that they may affect us with\njoy--nor is their power of action guided in accordance with our profit,\nand finally, since joy is generally related chiefly to some one part of\nthe body, it follows that generally the emotions of joy (unless reason\nand watchfulness be present), and consequently the desires which are\nbegotten from them, are excessive. It is to be added, that an emotion\ncauses us to put that thing first which is sweet to us in the present,\nand that we are not able to judge the future with an equal emotion of\nthe mind.\n\n\nXXXI\n\nSuperstition, on the contrary, seems to affirm that what brings sorrow\nis good, and, on the contrary, that what brings joy is evil. But, as we\nhave already said, no one, excepting an envious man, is delighted at my\nimpotence or disadvantage, for the greater the joy with which we are\naffected, the greater the perfection to which we pass, and consequently\nthe more do we participate in the divine nature; nor can joy ever be\nevil which is controlled by a true consideration for our own profit. On\nthe other hand, the man who is led by fear, and does what is good that\nhe may avoid what is evil, is not guided by reason.\n\n\nXXXII\n\nBut human power is very limited, and is infinitely surpassed by the\npower of external causes, so that we do not possess an absolute power to\nadapt to our service the things which are without us. Nevertheless we\nshall bear with equanimity those things which happen to us contrary to\nwhat a consideration of our own profit demands, if we are conscious that\nwe have performed our duty, that the power we have could not reach so\nfar as to enable us to avoid those things, and that we are a part of the\nwhole of Nature, whose order we follow. If we clearly and distinctly\nunderstand this, the part of us which is determined by intelligence,\nthat is to say, the better part of us, will be entirely satisfied\ntherewith, and in that satisfaction will endeavor to persevere; for, in\nso far as we understand, we cannot desire anything excepting what is\nnecessary, nor, absolutely, can we be satisfied with anything but the\ntruth. Therefore in so far as we understand these things properly will\nthe efforts of the better part of us agree with the order of the whole\nof Nature.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[30] ... If it agreed better with a man's nature that he should hang\nhimself, could any reasons be given for his not hanging himself? Can\nsuch a nature possibly exist? If so, I maintain (whether I do or do not\ngrant free will), that such an one, if he sees that he can live more\nconveniently on the gallows than sitting at his own table, would act\nmost foolishly, if he did not hang himself. So any one who clearly saw\nthat, by committing crimes, he would enjoy a really more perfect and\nbetter life and existence, than he could attain by the practice of\nvirtue, would be foolish if he did not act on his convictions. For, with\nsuch a perverse human nature as his, crime would become virtue. _From a\nletter to Wm. Blyenbergh_ (March 13, 1665).\n\n[31] It is to be observed that here and in the following I understand by\nhatred, hatred towards men only.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\nOF THE FOUNDATIONS OF A STATE[32]\n\n\nBy the right and ordinance of Nature, I merely mean those natural laws\nwherewith we conceive every individual to be conditioned by Nature, so\nas to live and act in a given way. For instance, fishes are naturally\nconditioned for swimming, and the greater for devouring the less;\ntherefore fishes enjoy the water, and the greater devour the less by\nsovereign natural right. For it is certain that Nature, taken in the\nabstract, has sovereign right to do anything she can; in other words,\nher right is co-extensive with her power. The power of Nature is the\npower of God, which has sovereign right over all things; and, inasmuch\nas the power of Nature is simply the aggregate of the powers of all her\nindividual components, it follows that every individual has sovereign\nright to do all that he can, in other words, the rights of an individual\nextend to the utmost limits of his power as it has been conditioned.\n\nNow it is the sovereign law and right of Nature that each individual\nshould endeavor to preserve itself as it is, without regard to anything\nbut itself; therefore this sovereign law and right belongs to every\nindividual, namely, to exist and act according to its natural\nconditions. We do not here acknowledge any difference between mankind\nand other individual natural entities, nor between men endowed with\nreason and those to whom reason is unknown; nor between fools, madmen,\nand sane men. Whatsoever an individual does by the laws of its nature it\nhas a sovereign right to do, inasmuch as it acts as it was conditioned\nby Nature, and cannot act otherwise. Wherefore among men, so long as\nthey are considered as living under the sway of Nature, he who does not\nyet know reason, or who has not yet acquired the habit of virtue, acts\nsolely according to the laws of his desire with as sovereign a right as\nhe who orders his life entirely by the laws of reason.\n\nThat is, as the wise man has sovereign right to do all that reason\ndictates, or to live according to the laws of reason, so also the\nignorant and foolish man has sovereign right to do all that desire\ndictates, or to live according to the laws of desire. This is identical\nwith the teaching of Paul, who acknowledges that previous to the\nlaw--that is, so long as men are considered of as living under the sway\nof Nature, there is no sin.\n\nThe natural right of the individual man is thus determined, not by sound\nreason, but by desire and power. All are not naturally conditioned so as\nto act according to the laws and rules of reason; nay, on the contrary,\nall men are born ignorant, and before they can learn the right way of\nlife and acquire the habit of virtue, the greater part of their life,\neven if they have been well brought up, has passed away. Nevertheless,\nthey are in the meanwhile bound to live and preserve themselves as far\nas they can by the unaided impulses of desire. Nature has given them no\nother guide, and has denied them the present power of living according\nto sound reason; so that they are no more bound to live by the dictates\nof an enlightened mind than a cat is bound to live by the laws of the\nnature of a lion.\n\nWhatsoever, therefore, an individual, considered as under the sway of\nNature, thinks useful for himself, whether led by sound reason or\nimpelled by the passions, that he has a sovereign right to seek and to\ntake for himself as he best can, whether by force, cunning, entreaty, or\nany other means; consequently he may regard as an enemy any one who\nhinders the accomplishment of his purpose.\n\nIt follows from what we have said that the right and ordinance of\nNature, under which all men are born, and under which they mostly live,\nonly prohibits such things as no one desires, and no one can attain: it\ndoes not forbid strife, nor hatred, nor anger, nor deceit, nor, indeed,\nany of the means suggested by desire.\n\nThis we need not wonder at, for Nature is not bounded by the laws of\nhuman reason, which aims only at man's true benefit and preservation.\nHer limits are infinitely wider, and have reference to the eternal order\nof Nature, wherein man is but a speck. It is by the necessity of this\nalone that all individuals are conditioned for living and acting in a\nparticular way. If anything, therefore, in Nature seems to us\nridiculous, absurd, or evil, it is because we only know in part, and are\nalmost entirely ignorant of the order and interdependence of Nature as a\nwhole, and also because we want everything to be arranged according to\nthe dictates of our human reason; in reality that which reason considers\nevil is not evil in respect to the order and laws of Nature as a whole,\nbut only in respect to the laws of our reason.\n\nNevertheless, no one can doubt that it is much better for us to live\naccording to the laws and assured dictates of reason, for, as we said,\nthey have men's true good for their object. Moreover, every one wishes\nto live as far as possible securely beyond the reach of fear, and this\nwould be quite impossible so long as every one did everything he liked,\nand reason's claim was lowered to a par with those of hatred and anger.\nThere is no one who is not ill at ease in the midst of enmity, hatred,\nanger and deceit, and who does not seek to avoid them as much as he can.\nWhen we reflect that men without mutual help, or the aid of reason, must\nneeds live most miserably, ... we shall plainly see that men must\nnecessarily come to an agreement to live together as securely and well\nas possible if they are to enjoy, as a whole, the rights which naturally\nbelong to them as individuals, and their life should be no more\nconditioned by the force and desire of individuals, but by the power and\nwill of the whole body. This end they will be unable to attain if desire\nbe their only guide, for by the laws of desire each man is drawn in a\ndifferent direction; they must, therefore, most firmly decree and\nestablish that they will be guided in everything by reason, which nobody\nwill dare openly to repudiate lest he should be taken for a madman, and\nwill restrain any desire which is injurious to a man's fellows, that\nthey will do to all as they would be done by, and that they will defend\ntheir neighbor's rights as their own.\n\nHow such a compact as this should be entered into, how ratified and\nestablished, we will now inquire.\n\nNow it is a universal law of human nature that no one ever neglects\nanything which he judges to be good, except with the hope of gaining a\ngreater good, or from the fear of a greater evil; nor does any one\nendure an evil except for the sake of avoiding a greater evil, or\ngaining a greater good. That is, every one will, of two goods, choose\nthat which he thinks the greatest; and, of two evils that which he\nthinks the least. I say advisedly that which he thinks the greatest or\nthe least, for it does not necessarily follow that he judges right. This\nlaw is so deeply implanted in the human mind that it ought to be counted\namong eternal truths and axioms.\n\nAs a necessary consequence of the principle just enunciated, no one can\nhonestly promise to forego the right which he has over all things,[33]\nand in general no one will abide by his promises, unless under the fear\nof a greater evil, or the hope of a greater good. An example will make\nthe matter clearer. Suppose that a robber forces me to promise that I\nwill give him my goods at his will and pleasure. It is plain (inasmuch\nas my natural right is, as I have shown, co-extensive with my power)\nthat if I can free myself from this robber by stratagem, by assenting\nto his demands, I have the natural right to do so, and to pretend to\naccept his conditions. Or, again, suppose I have genuinely promised some\none that for the space of twenty days I will not taste food or any\nnourishment; and suppose I afterwards find that my promise was foolish,\nand cannot be kept without very great injury to myself; as I am bound by\nnatural law and right to choose the least of two evils, I have complete\nright to break any compact, and act as if my promise had never been\nuttered. I say that I should have perfect natural right to do so,\nwhether I was actuated by true and evident reason, or whether I was\nactuated by mere opinion in thinking I had promised rashly; whether my\nreasons were true or false, I should be in fear of a greater evil,\nwhich, by the ordinance of Nature, I should strive to avoid by every\nmeans in my power.\n\nWe may, therefore, conclude that a compact is only made valid by its\nutility, without which it becomes null and void. It is therefore foolish\nto ask a man to keep his faith with us forever, unless we also endeavor\nthat the violation of the compact we enter into shall involve for the\nviolator more harm than good. This consideration should have very great\nweight in forming a state. However, if all men could be easily led by\nreason alone, and could recognize what is best and most useful for a\nstate, there would be no one who would not forswear deceit, for every\none would keep most religiously to their compact in their desire for the\nchief good, namely, the preservation of the state, and would cherish\ngood faith above all things as the shield and buckler of the\ncommonwealth. However, it is far from being the case that all men can\nalways be easily led by reason alone; every one is drawn away by his\npleasure, while avarice, ambition, envy, hatred, and the like so engross\nthe mind that reason has no place therein. Hence, though men make\npromises with all the appearances of good faith, and agree that they\nwill keep to their engagement, no one can absolutely rely on another\nman's promise unless there is something behind it. Every one has by\nNature a right to act deceitfully, and to break his compacts, unless he\nbe restrained by the hope of some greater good, or the fear of some\ngreater evil.\n\nHowever, as we have shown that the natural right of the individual is\nonly limited by his power, it is clear that by transferring, either\nwillingly or under compulsion, this power into the hands of another, he\nin so doing necessarily cedes also a part of his right; and, further,\nthat the sovereign right over all men belongs to him who has sovereign\npower, wherewith he can compel men by force, or restrain them by threats\nof the universally feared punishment of death. Such sovereign right he\nwill retain only so long as he can maintain his power of enforcing his\nwill; otherwise he will totter on his throne, and no one who is stronger\nthan he will be bound unwillingly to obey him.\n\nIn this manner a society can be formed without any violation of natural\nright, and the covenant can always be strictly kept--that is, if each\nindividual hands over the whole of his power to the body politic, the\nlatter will then possess sovereign natural right over all things; that\nis, it will have sole and unquestioned dominion, and every one will be\nbound to obey, under pain of the severest punishment. A body politic of\nthis kind is called a Democracy, which may be defined as a society which\nwields all its power as a whole. The sovereign power is not restrained\nby any laws, but every one is bound to obey it in all things; such is\nthe state of things implied when men either tacitly or expressly handed\nover to it all their power of self-defense, or in other words, all their\nright. For if they had wished to retain any right for themselves, they\nought to have taken precautions for its defense and preservation. As\nthey have not done so, and indeed could not have done so without\ndividing and consequently ruining the state, they placed themselves\nabsolutely at the mercy of the sovereign power; and, therefore, having\nacted (as we have shown) as reason and necessity demanded, they are\nobliged to fulfill the commands of the sovereign power, however absurd\nthese may be, else they will be public enemies, and will act against\nreason, which urges the preservation of the state as a primary duty. For\nreason bids us choose the lesser of two evils.\n\nFurthermore, this danger of submitting absolutely to the dominion and\nwill of another, is one which may be incurred with a light heart: for we\nhave shown that sovereigns only possess this right of imposing their\nwill, so long as they have the full power to enforce it. If such power\nbe lost their right to command is lost also, or lapses to those who have\nassumed it and can keep it. Thus it is very rare for sovereigns to\nimpose thoroughly irrational commands, for they are bound to consult\ntheir own interests, and retain their power by consulting the public\ngood and acting according to the dictates of reason, as Seneca says,\n\"_violenta imperia nemo continuit diu_.\" No one can long retain a\ntyrant's sway.\n\nIn a democracy, irrational commands are still less to be feared: for it\nis almost impossible that the majority of a people, especially if it be\na large one, should agree in an irrational design: and, moreover, the\nbasis and aim of a democracy is to avoid the desires as irrational, and\nto bring men as far as possible under the control of reason, so that\nthey may live in peace and harmony. If this basis be removed the whole\nfabric falls to ruin.\n\nSuch being the ends in view for the sovereign power, the duty of\nsubjects is, as I have said, to obey its commands, and to recognize no\nright save that which it sanctions.\n\nIt will, perhaps, be thought that we are turning subjects into slaves,\nfor slaves obey commands and free men live as they like; but this idea\nis based on a misconception, for the true slave is he who is led away by\nhis pleasures and can neither see what is good for him nor act\naccordingly: he alone is free who lives with free consent under the\nentire guidance of reason.\n\nAction in obedience to orders does take away freedom in a certain sense,\nbut it does not, therefore, make a man a slave; all depends on the\nobject of the action. If the object of the action be the good of the\nstate, and not the good of the agent, the latter is a slave and does\nhimself no good; but in a state or kingdom where the weal of the whole\npeople, and not that of the ruler, is the supreme law, obedience to the\nsovereign power does not make a man a slave, of no use to himself, but\na subject. Therefore, that state is the freest whose laws are founded on\nsound reason, so that every member of it may, if he will, be free;[34]\nthat is, live with full consent under the entire guidance of reason.\n\nChildren, though they are bound to obey all the commands of their\nparents, are yet not slaves; for the commands of parents look generally\nto the children's benefit.\n\nWe must, therefore, acknowledge a great difference between a slave, a\nson, and a subject; their positions may be thus defined. A slave is one\nwho is bound to obey his master's orders, though they are given solely\nin the master's interest; a son is one who obeys his father's orders,\ngiven in his own interest; a subject obeys the orders of the sovereign\npower, given for the common interest, wherein he is included.\n\nI think I have now shown sufficiently clearly the basis of a democracy.\nI have especially desired to do so, for I believe it to be of all forms\nof government the most natural, and the most consonant with individual\nliberty. In it no one transfers his natural right so absolutely that he\nhas no further voice in affairs; he only hands it over to the majority\nof a society, whereof he is a unit. Thus all men remain, as they were in\nthe state of Nature, equals.\n\nThis is the only form of government which I have treated of at length,\nfor it is the one most akin to my purpose of showing the benefits of\nfreedom in a state.\n\nI may pass over the fundamental principles of other forms of government,\nfor we may gather from what has been said whence their right arises\nwithout going into its origin. The possessor of sovereign power, whether\nhe be one, or many, or the whole body politic, has the sovereign right\nof imposing any commands he pleases; and he who has either voluntarily,\nor under compulsion, transferred the right to defend him to another,\nhas, in so doing, renounced his natural right and is therefore bound to\nobey, in all things, the commands of the sovereign power; and will be\nbound so to do so long as the king, or nobles, or the people preserve\nthe sovereign power which formed the basis of the original transfer. I\nneed add no more.\n\nThe bases and rights of dominion being thus displayed, we shall readily\nbe able to define private civil right, wrong, justice, and injustice,\nwith their relations to the state; and also to determine what\nconstitutes an ally, or an enemy, or the crime of treason.\n\nBy private civil right we can only mean the liberty every man possesses\nto preserve his existence, a liberty limited by the edicts of the\nsovereign power, and preserved only by its authority. For when a man has\ntransferred to another his right of living as he likes, which was only\nlimited by his power, that is, has transferred his liberty and power of\nself-defense, he is bound to live as that other dictates, and to trust\nto him entirely for his defense. Wrong takes place when a citizen, or\nsubject, is forced by another to undergo some loss or pain in\ncontradiction to the authority of the law, or the edict of the sovereign\npower.\n\nWrong is conceivable only in an organized community; nor can it ever\naccrue to subjects from any act of the sovereign, who has the right to\ndo what he likes. It can only arise, therefore, between private persons,\nwho are bound by law and right not to injure one another. Justice\nconsists in the habitual rendering to every man his lawful due;\ninjustice consists in depriving a man, under the pretense of legality,\nof what the laws, rightly interpreted, would allow him. These last are\nalso called equity and inequity, because those who administer the laws\nare bound to show no respect of persons, but to account all men equal,\nand to defend every man's right equally, neither envying the rich nor\ndespising the poor.\n\nThe men of two states become allies, when for the sake of avoiding war,\nor for some other advantage, they covenant to do each other no hurt,\nbut, on the contrary, to assist each other if necessity arises, each\nretaining his independence. Such a covenant is valid so long as its\nbasis of danger or advantage is in force: no one enters into an\nengagement, or is bound to stand by his compacts unless there be a hope\nof some accruing good, or the fear of some evil: if this basis be\nremoved the compact thereby becomes void: this has been abundantly shown\nby experience. For although different states make treaties not to harm\none another, they always take every possible precaution against such\ntreaties being broken by the stronger party, and do not rely on the\ncompact, unless there is a sufficiently obvious object and advantage to\nboth parties in observing it. Otherwise they would fear a breach of\nfaith, nor would there be any wrong done thereby; for who in his proper\nsenses, and aware of the right of the sovereign power, would trust in\nthe promises of one who has the will and the power to do what he likes,\nand who aims solely at the safety and advantage of his dominion?\nMoreover, if we consult loyalty and religion, we shall see that no one\nin possession of power ought to abide by his promises to the injury of\nhis dominion; for he cannot keep such promises without breaking the\nengagement he made with his subjects, by which both he and they are most\nsolemnly bound.\n\nAn enemy is one who lives apart from the state, and does not recognize\nits authority either as a subject or as an ally. It is not hatred which\nmakes a man an enemy, but the rights of the state. The rights of the\nstate are the same in regard to him who does not recognize by any\ncompact the state authority, as they are against him who has done the\nstate an injury. It has the right to force him, as best it can, either\nto submit, or to contract an alliance.\n\nLastly, treason can only be committed by subjects, who by compact,\neither tacit or expressed, have transferred all their rights to the\nstate. A subject is said to have committed this crime when he has\nattempted, for whatever reason, to seize the sovereign power, or to\nplace it in different hands. I say, _has attempted_, for if punishment\nwere not to overtake him till he had succeeded, it would often come too\nlate, the sovereign rights would have been acquired or transferred\nalready.\n\nI also say, _has attempted, for whatever reasons, to seize the sovereign\npower_, and I recognize no difference whether such an attempt should be\nfollowed by public loss or public gain. Whatever be his reason for\nacting, the crime is treason, and he is rightly condemned. In war, every\none would admit the justice of his sentence. If a man does not keep to\nhis post, but approaches the enemy without the knowledge of his\ncommander, whatever may be his motive, so long as he acts on his own\nmotion, even if he advances with the design of defeating the enemy, he\nis rightly put to death, because he has violated his oath, and infringed\nthe rights of his commander. That all citizens are equally bound by\nthese rights in time of peace, is not so generally recognized, but the\nreasons for obedience are in both cases identical. The state must be\npreserved and directed by the sole authority of the sovereign, and such\nauthority and right have been accorded by universal consent to him\nalone. If, therefore, any one else attempts, without his consent, to\nexecute any public enterprise, even though the state might (as we said)\nreap benefit therefrom, such person has none the less infringed the\nsovereign's right, and would be rightly punished for treason.\n\nIn order that every scruple may be removed, we may now answer the\ninquiry, whether our former assertion that every one who has not the\npractice of reason, may, in the state of Nature, live by sovereign\nnatural right, according to the laws of his desires, is not in direct\nopposition to the law and right of God as revealed. For as all men\nabsolutely (whether they be less endowed with reason or more) are\nequally bound by the Divine command to love their neighbor as\nthemselves, it may be said that they cannot, without wrong, do injury to\nany one, or live according to their desires.\n\nThis objection, so far as the state of Nature is concerned, can be\neasily answered, for the state of Nature is, both in nature and in time,\nprior to religion. No one knows by nature that he owes any obedience to\nGod,[35] nor can he attain thereto by any exercise of his reason, but\nsolely by revelation confirmed by signs. Therefore, previous to\nrevelation, no one is bound by a Divine law and right of which he is\nnecessarily in ignorance. The state of Nature must by no means be\nconfounded with a state of religion, but must be conceived as without\neither religion or law, and consequently without sin or wrong. This is\nhow we have described it, and we are confirmed by the authority of Paul.\nIt is not only in respect of ignorance that we conceive the state of\nNature as prior to, and lacking the Divine revealed law and right; but\nin respect of freedom also, wherewith all men are born endowed....\n\nIt may be insisted that sovereigns are as much bound by the Divine law\nas subjects; whereas we have asserted that they retain their natural\nrights, and may do whatever they like.\n\nIn order to clear up the whole difficulty, which arises rather\nconcerning the natural right than the natural state, I maintain that\nevery one is bound, in the state of Nature, to live according to Divine\nlaw, in the same way as he is bound to live according to the dictates of\nsound reason; namely, inasmuch as it is to his advantage, and necessary\nfor his salvation; but, if he will not so live, he may do otherwise at\nhis own risk. He is thus bound to live according to his own laws, not\naccording to any one else's, and to recognize no man as a judge, or as a\nsuperior in religion. Such, in my opinion, is the position of a\nsovereign, for he may take advice from his fellow men, but he is not\nbound to recognize any as a judge, nor any one besides himself as an\narbitrator on any question of right, unless it be a prophet sent\nexpressly by God and attesting his mission by indisputable signs. Even\nthen he does not recognize a man, but God Himself as his judge.\n\nIf a sovereign refuses to obey God as revealed in His law, he does so at\nhis own risk and loss, but without violating any civil or natural\nright. For the civil right is dependent on his own decree; and natural\nright is dependent on the laws of Nature, which latter are not adapted\nto religion, whose sole aim is the good of humanity, but to the order of\nNature--that is, to God's eternal decree unknown to us.\n\nThis truth seems to be adumbrated in a somewhat obscurer form by those\nwho maintain that men can sin against God's revelation, but not against\nthe eternal decree by which He has ordained all things....\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[32] From the _Tr. Th.-P._, ch. xvi, same title.\n\n[33] In the state of social life, where general right determines what is\ngood or evil, stratagem is rightly distinguished as of two kinds, good\nand evil. But in the state of Nature, where every man is his own judge,\npossessing the absolute right to lay down laws for himself, to interpret\nthem as he pleases, or to abrogate them if he thinks it convenient, it\nis not conceivable that stratagem should be evil.\n\n[34] Whatever be the social state a man finds himself in, he may be\nfree. For certainly a man is free, in so far as he is led by reason. Now\nreason (though Hobbes thinks otherwise) is always on the side of peace,\nwhich cannot be attained unless the general laws of the state be\nrespected. Therefore the more a man is led by reason--in other words,\nthe more he is free, the more constantly will he respect the laws of his\ncountry, and obey the commands of the sovereign power to which he is\nsubject.\n\n[35] When Paul says that men have in themselves no refuge, he speaks as\na man: for in the ninth chapter of the same Epistle he expressly teaches\nthat God has mercy on whom He will, and that men are without excuse,\nonly because they are in God's power like clay in the hands of a potter,\nwho out of the same lump makes vessels, some for honor and some for\ndishonor, not because they have been forewarned. As regards the Divine\nnatural law whereof the chief commandment is, as we have said, to love\nGod, I have called it a law in the same sense, as philosophers style\nlaws those general rules of Nature, according to which everything\nhappens. For the love of God is not a state of obedience: it is a virtue\nwhich necessarily exists in a man who knows God rightly. Obedience has\nregard to the will of a ruler, not to necessity and truth. Now as we are\nignorant of the nature of God's will, and on the other hand know that\neverything happens solely by God's power, we cannot, except through\nrevelation, know whether God wishes in any way to be honored as a\nsovereign.\n\nAgain; we have shown that the Divine rights appear to us in the light of\nrights or commands, only so long as we are ignorant of their cause: as\nsoon as their cause is known, they cease to be rights, and we embrace\nthem no longer as rights but as eternal truths; in other words,\nobedience passes into love of God, which emanates from true knowledge as\nnecessarily as light emanates from the sun. Reason then leads us to love\nGod, but cannot lead us to obey Him; for we cannot embrace the commands\nof God as Divine, while we are in ignorance of their cause, neither can\nwe rationally conceive God as a sovereign laying down laws as a\nsovereign.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nOF SUPREME AUTHORITIES\n\n\nI\n\n_Of the Right of Supreme Authorities_[36]\n\nUnder every dominion the state is said to be Civil; but the entire body\nsubject to a dominion is called a Commonwealth, and the general business\nof the dominion, subject to the direction of him that holds it, has the\nname of Affairs of State. Next we call men Citizens, as far as they\nenjoy by the civil law all the advantages of the commonwealth, and\nSubjects, as far as they are bound to obey its ordinances or laws.\nLastly ... of the civil state there are three kinds--democracy,\naristocracy and monarchy. Now, before I begin to treat of each kind\nseparately, I will first deduce all the properties of the civil state in\ngeneral. And of these, first of all comes to be considered the supreme\nright of the commonwealth, or the right of the supreme authorities.\n\nIt is clear that the right of the supreme authorities is nothing else\nthan simple natural right, limited, indeed, by the power, not of every\nindividual, but of the multitude, which is guided, as it were, by one\nmind--that is, as each individual in the state of Nature, so the body\nand mind of a dominion have as much right as they have power. And thus\neach single citizen or subject has the less right, the more the\ncommonwealth exceeds him in power, and each citizen consequently does\nand has nothing but what he may by the general decree of the\ncommonwealth defend.\n\nIf the commonwealth grant to any man the right, and therewith the\nauthority (for else it is but a gift of words) to live after his own\nmind, by that very act it abandons its own right, and transfers the same\nto him, to whom it has given such authority. But if it has given this\nauthority to two or more, I mean authority to live each after his own\nmind, by that very act it has divided the dominion, and if, lastly, it\nhas given this same authority to every citizen, it has thereby destroyed\nitself, and there remains no more a commonwealth, but everything returns\nto the state of Nature; all of which is very manifest from what goes\nbefore. And thus it follows, that it can by no means be conceived, that\nevery citizen should by the ordinance of the commonwealth live after his\nown mind, and accordingly this natural right of being one's own judge\nceases in the civil state. I say expressly \"by the ordinance of the\ncommonwealth,\" for if we weigh the matter aright, the natural right of\nevery man does not cease in the civil state. For man, alike in the\nnatural and in the civil state, acts according to the laws of his own\nnature, and consults his own interest. Man, I say, in each state is led\nby fear or hope to do or leave undone this or that; but the main\ndifference between the two states is this, that in the civil state all\nfear the same things, and all have the same ground of security, and\nmanner of life; and this certainly does not do away with the\nindividual's faculty of judgment. For he that is minded to obey all the\ncommonwealth's orders, whether through fear of its power or through love\nof quiet, certainly consults after his own heart his own safety and\ninterest.\n\nMoreover, we cannot even conceive, that every citizen should be allowed\nto interpret the commonwealth's decrees or laws. For were every citizen\nallowed this, he would thereby be his own judge, because each would\neasily be able to give a color of right to his own deeds, which by the\nlast section is absurd.\n\nWe see, then, that every citizen depends not on himself, but on the\ncommonwealth, all whose commands he is bound to execute, and has no\nright to decide, what is equitable or iniquitous, just or unjust. But,\non the contrary, as the body of the dominion should, so to speak, be\nguided by one mind, and consequently the will of the commonwealth must\nbe taken to be the will of all; what the state decides to be just and\ngood must be held to be so decided by every individual. And so, however\niniquitous the subject may think the commonwealth's decisions, he is\nnone the less bound to execute them.\n\nBut, it may be objected, is it not contrary to the dictate of reason to\nsubject oneself wholly to the judgment of another, and, consequently, is\nnot the civil state repugnant to reason? Whence it would follow that the\ncivil state is irrational, and could only be created by men destitute of\nreason, not at all by such as are led by it. But since reason teaches\nnothing contrary to Nature, sound reason cannot therefore dictate that\nevery one should remain independent, so long as men are liable to\npassions, that is, reason pronounces against such independence. Besides,\nreason altogether teaches to seek peace, and peace cannot be maintained,\nunless the commonwealth's general laws be kept unbroken. And so, the\nmore a man is guided by reason, that is, the more he is free, the more\nconstantly he will keep the laws of the commonwealth, and execute the\ncommands of the supreme authority, whose subject he is. Furthermore, the\ncivil state is naturally ordained to remove general fear, and prevent\ngeneral sufferings, and therefore pursue above everything the very end,\nafter which every one, who is led by reason, strives, but in the natural\nstate strives vainly. Wherefore, if a man, who is led by reason, has\nsometimes to do by the commonwealth's order what he knows to be\nrepugnant to reason, that harm is far compensated by the good, which he\nderives from the existence of a civil state. For it is reason's own law,\nto choose the less of two evils; and accordingly we may conclude that no\none is acting against the dictate of his own reason, so far as he does\nwhat by the law of the commonwealth is to be done. And this any one will\nmore easily grant us, after we have explained how far the power and\nconsequently the right of the commonwealth extends.\n\nFor, first of all, it must be considered that, as in the state of Nature\nthe man who is led by reason is most powerful and most independent, so\ntoo that commonwealth will be most powerful and most independent which\nis founded and guided by reason. For the right of the commonwealth is\ndetermined by the power of the multitude, which is led, as it were, by\none mind. But this unity of mind can in no wise be conceived, unless the\ncommonwealth pursues chiefly the very end which sound reason teaches is\nto the interest of all men.\n\nIn the second place it comes to be considered that subjects are so far\ndependent, not on themselves but on the commonwealth, as they fear its\npower or threats, or as they love the civil state. Whence it follows,\nthat such things, as no one can be induced to do by rewards or threats,\ndo not fall within the rights of the commonwealth. For instance, by\nreason of his faculty of judgment, it is in no man's power to believe.\nFor by what rewards or threats can a man be brought to believe that the\nwhole is not greater than its part, or that God does not exist, or that\nthat is an infinite being, which he sees to be finite, or, generally,\nanything contrary to his sense or thought? So, too, by what rewards or\nthreats can a man be brought to love one whom he hates, or to hate one\nwhom he loves? And to this head must likewise be referred such things as\nare so abhorrent to human nature, that it regards them as actually worse\nthan any evil, as that a man should be witness against himself, or\ntorture himself, or kill his parents, or not strive to avoid death, and\nthe like, to which no one can be induced by rewards or threats. But if\nwe still choose to say that the commonwealth has the right or authority\nto order such things, we can conceive of it in no other sense than that\nin which one might say that a man has the right to be mad or delirious.\nFor what but a delirious fancy would such a right be, as could bind no\none? And here I am speaking expressly of such things as cannot be\nsubject to the right of a commonwealth and are abhorrent to human nature\nin general. For the fact that a fool or madman can by no rewards or\nthreats be induced to execute orders, or that this or that person,\nbecause he is attached to this or that religion, judges the laws of a\ndominion worse than any possible evil, in no wise makes void the laws of\nthe commonwealth, since by them most of the citizens are restrained. And\nso, as those who are without fear or hope are so far independent, they\nare, therefore, enemies of the dominion, and may lawfully be coerced by\nforce.\n\nThirdly, and lastly, it comes to be considered that those things are not\nso much within the commonwealth's right, which cause indignation in the\nmajority. For it is certain, that by the guidance of Nature men conspire\ntogether, either through common fear, or with the desire to avenge some\ncommon hurt; and as the right of the commonwealth is determined by the\ncommon power of the multitude, it is certain that the power and right of\nthe commonwealth are so far diminished, as it gives occasion for many to\nconspire together. There are certainly some subjects of fear for a\ncommonwealth, and as every separate citizen or in the state of Nature\nevery man, so a commonwealth is the less independent, the greater reason\nit has to fear. So much for the right of supreme authorities over\nsubjects. Now before I treat of the right of the said authorities as\nagainst others, we had better resolve a question commonly mooted about\nreligion.\n\nFor it may be objected to us, Do not the civil state, and the obedience\nof subjects, such as we have shown is required in the civil state, do\naway with religion, whereby we are bound to worship God? But if we\nconsider the matter, as it really is, we shall find nothing that can\nsuggest a scruple. For the mind, so far as it makes use of reason, is\ndependent, not on the supreme authorities, but on itself. And so the\ntrue knowledge and the love of God cannot be subject to the dominion of\nany, nor yet can charity towards one's neighbor. And if we further\nreflect that the highest exercise of charity is that which aims at\nkeeping peace and joining in unity, we shall not doubt that he does his\nduty, who helps every one, so far as the commonwealth's laws, that is,\nso far as unity and quiet allow. As for external rites, it is certain,\nthat they can do no good or harm at all in respect of the true knowledge\nof God, and the love which necessarily results from it; and so they\nought not to be held of such importance, that it should be thought worth\nwhile on their account to disturb public peace and quiet. Moreover, it\nis certain that I am not a champion of religion by the law of Nature,\nthat is, by the divine decree. For I have no authority, as once the\ndisciples of Christ had, to cast out unclean spirits and work miracles;\nwhich authority is yet so necessary to the propagating of religion in\nplaces where it is forbidden, that without it one not only, as they say,\nwastes one's time[37] and trouble, but causes besides very many\ninconveniences, whereof all ages have seen most mournful examples. Every\none therefore, wherever he may be, can worship God with true religion,\nand mind his own business, which is the duty of a private man. But the\ncare of propagating religion should be left to God, or the supreme\nauthorities, upon whom alone falls the charge of affairs of state. But I\nreturn to my subject.\n\nAfter explaining the right of supreme authorities over citizens and the\nduty of subjects, it remains to consider the right of such authorities\nagainst the world at large, which is now easily intelligible from what\nhas been said. For since the right of the supreme authorities is nothing\nelse but simple natural right, it follows that two dominions stand\ntowards each other in the same relation as do two men in the state of\nNature, with this exception, that a commonwealth can provide against\nbeing oppressed by another; which a man in the state of Nature cannot\ndo, seeing that he is overcome daily by sleep, often by disease or\nmental infirmity, and in the end by old age, and is besides liable to\nother inconveniences, from which a commonwealth can secure itself.\n\nA commonwealth, then, is so far independent, as it can plan and provide\nagainst oppression by another, and so far dependent on another\ncommonwealth, as it fears that other's power, or is hindered by it from\nexecuting its own wishes, or, lastly, as it needs its help for its own\npreservation or increase. For we cannot at all doubt, that if two\ncommonwealths are willing to offer each other mutual help, both together\nare more powerful, and therefore have more right, than either alone.\n\nBut this will be more clearly intelligible if we reflect that two\ncommonwealths are naturally enemies. For men in the state of Nature are\nenemies. Those, then, who stand outside a commonwealth, and retain\ntheir natural rights, continue enemies. Accordingly, if one commonwealth\nwishes to make war on another and employ extreme measures to make that\nother dependent on itself, it may lawfully make the attempt, since it\nneeds but the bare will of the commonwealth for war to be waged. But\nconcerning peace it can decide nothing, save with the concurrence of\nanother commonwealth's will. When it follows that laws of war regard\nevery commonwealth by itself, but laws of peace regard not one, but at\nthe least two commonwealths, which are therefore called \"contracting\nparties.\"\n\nThis \"contract\" remains so long unmoved as the motive for entering into\nit, that is, fear of hurt or hope of gain, subsists. But take away from\neither commonwealth this hope or fear, and it is left independent, and\nthe link, whereby the commonwealths were mutually bound, breaks of\nitself. And therefore every commonwealth has the right to break its\ncontract, whenever it chooses, and cannot be said to act treacherously\nor perfidiously in breaking its word, as soon as the motive of hope or\nfear is removed. For every contracting party was on equal terms in this\nrespect, that whichever could first free itself of fear should be\nindependent, and make use of its independence after its own mind; and,\nbesides, no one makes a contract respecting the future, but on the\nhypothesis of certain precedent circumstances. But when these\ncircumstances change, the reason of policy applicable to the whole\nposition changes with them; and therefore every one of the contracting\ncommonwealths retains the right of consulting its own interest, and\nconsequently endeavors, as far as possible, to be free from fear and\nthereby independent, and to prevent another from coming out of the\ncontract with greater power. If then a commonwealth complains that it\nhas been deceived, it cannot properly blame the bad faith of another\ncontracting commonwealth, but only its own folly in having entrusted its\nown welfare to another party, that was independent, and had for its\nhighest law the welfare of its own dominion.\n\nTo commonwealths, which have contracted a treaty of peace, it belongs to\ndecide the questions which may be mooted about the terms or rules of\npeace, whereby they have mutually bound themselves, inasmuch as laws of\npeace regard not one commonwealth, but the commonwealths which contract\ntaken together. But if they cannot agree together about the conditions,\nthey by that very fact return to a state of war.\n\nThe more commonwealths there are, that have contracted a joint treaty of\npeace, the less each of them by itself is an object of fear to the\nremainder, or the less it has the authority to make war. But it is so\nmuch the more bound to observe the conditions of peace; that is, the\nless independent, and the more bound to accommodate itself to the\ngeneral will of the contracting parties.\n\nBut the good faith, inculcated by sound reason and religion, is not\nhereby made void; for neither reason nor Scripture teaches one to keep\none's word in every case. For if I have promised a man, for instance, to\nkeep safe a sum of money he has secretly deposited with me, I am not\nbound to keep my word, from the time that I know or believe the deposit\nto have been stolen, but I shall act more rightly in endeavoring to\nrestore it to its owners. So likewise, if the supreme authority has\npromised another to do something, which subsequently occasion or reason\nshows or seems to show is contrary to the welfare of its subjects, it is\nsurely bound to break its word. As then Scripture only teaches us to\nkeep our word in general, and leaves to every individual's judgment the\nspecial cases of exception, it teaches nothing repugnant to what we have\njust proved.\n\nBut that I may not have so often to break the thread of my discourse,\nand to resolve hereafter similar objections, I would have it known that\nall this demonstration of mine proceeds from the necessity of human\nnature, considered in what light you will--I mean, from the universal\neffort of all men after self-preservation, an effort inherent in all\nmen, whether learned or unlearned. And therefore, however one considers\nmen are led, whether by passion or by reason, it will be the same thing;\nfor the demonstration, as we have said, is of universal application.\n\n\nII\n\n_Of the Functions of Supreme Authorities_[38]\n\nThe right of the supreme authorities is limited by their power; the most\nimportant part of that right is, that they are, as it were, the mind of\nthe dominion, whereby all ought to be guided; and accordingly, such\nauthorities alone have the right of deciding what is good, evil,\nequitable or iniquitous, that is, what must be done or left undone by\nthe subjects severally or collectively. And, accordingly, they have the\nsole right of laying down laws, and of interpreting the same, whenever\ntheir meaning is disputed, and of deciding whether a given case is in\nconformity with or violation of the laws; and, lastly, of waging war,\nand of drawing up and offering propositions for peace, or of accepting\nsuch when offered.\n\nAs all these functions, and also the means required to execute them, are\nmatters which regard the whole body of the dominion, that is, are\naffairs of state, it follows that affairs of state depend on the\ndirection of him only who holds supreme dominion. And hence it follows\nthat it is the right of the supreme authority alone to judge the deeds\nof every individual, and demand of him an account of the same; to punish\ncriminals, and decide questions of law between citizens, or appoint\njurists acquainted with the existing laws, to administer these matters\non its behalf; and, further, to use and order all means to war and\npeace, as to found and fortify cities, levy soldiers, assign military\nposts, and order what it would have done, and, with a view to peace, to\nsend and give audience to ambassadors; and, finally, to levy the costs\nof all this.\n\nSince, then, it is the right of the supreme authority alone to handle\npublic matters, or choose officials to do so, it follows that that\nsubject is a pretender to the dominion, who, without the supreme\ncouncil's knowledge, enters upon any public matter, although he believe\nthat his design will be to the best interest of the commonwealth.\n\nBut it is often asked, whether the supreme authority is bound by laws,\nand, consequently, whether it can do wrong. Now as the words \"law\" and\n\"wrong-doing\" often refer not merely to the laws of a commonwealth, but\nalso to the general rules which concern all natural things, and\nespecially to the general rules of reason, we cannot, without\nqualification, say that the commonwealth is bound by no laws, or can do\nno wrong. For were the commonwealth bound by no laws or rules, which\nremoved, the commonwealth were no commonwealth, we should have to regard\nit not as a natural thing, but as a chimera. A commonwealth then does\nwrong, when it does, or suffers to be done, things which may be the\ncause of its own ruin; and we can say that it then does wrong, in the\nsense in which philosophers or doctors say that Nature does wrong; and\nin this sense we can say, that a commonwealth does wrong, when it acts\nagainst the dictate of reason. For a commonwealth is most independent\nwhen it acts according to the dictate of reason; so far, then, as it\nacts against reason, it fails itself, or does wrong. And we shall be\nable more easily to understand this if we reflect that when we say, that\na man can do what he will with his own, this authority must be limited\nnot only by the power of the agent, but by the capacity of the object.\nIf, for instance, I say that I can rightfully do what I will with this\ntable, I do not certainly mean that I have the right to make it eat\ngrass. So, too, though we say, that men depend not on themselves, but on\nthe commonwealth, we do not mean, that men lose their human nature and\nput on another; nor yet that the commonwealth has the right to make men\nwish for this or that, or (what is just as impossible) regard with\nhonor things which excite ridicule or disgust. But it is implied that\nthere are certain intervening circumstances which supposed, one likewise\nsupposes the reverence and fear of the subjects towards the\ncommonwealth, and which abstracted, one makes abstraction likewise of\nthat fear and reverence, and therewith of the commonwealth itself. The\ncommonwealth, then, to maintain its independence, is bound to preserve\nthe causes of fear and reverence, otherwise it ceases to be a\ncommonwealth. For the person or persons that hold dominion can no more\ncombine with the keeping up of majesty the running with harlots drunk or\nnaked about the streets, or the performances of a stage-player, or the\nopen violation or contempt of laws passed by themselves, than they can\ncombine existence with non-existence. But to proceed to slay and rob\nsubjects, ravish maidens, and the like, turns fear into indignation and\nthe civil state into a state of enmity.\n\nWe see, then, in what sense we may say, that a commonwealth is bound by\nlaws and can do wrong. But if by \"law\" we understand civil law, and by\n\"wrong\" that which, by civil law, is forbidden to be done, that is, if\nthese words be taken in their proper sense, we cannot at all say that a\ncommonwealth is bound by laws or can do wrong. For the maxims and\nmotives of fear and reverence which a commonwealth is bound to observe\nin its own interest, pertain not to civil jurisprudence, but to the law\nof Nature, since they cannot be vindicated by the civil law, but by the\nlaw of war. And a commonwealth is bound by them in no other sense than\nthat in which in the state of Nature a man is bound to take heed that\nhe preserve his independence and be not his own enemy, lest he should\ndestroy himself; and in this taking heed lies not the subjection, but\nthe liberty of human nature. But civil jurisprudence depends on the mere\ndecree of the commonwealth, which is not bound to please any but itself,\nnor to hold anything to be good or bad, but what it judges to be such\nfor itself. And, accordingly, it has not merely the right to avenge\nitself, or to lay down and interpret laws, but also to abolish the same,\nand to pardon any guilty person out of the fullness of its power.\n\nContracts or laws, whereby the multitude transfers its right to one\ncouncil or man, should without doubt be broken, when it is expedient for\nthe general welfare to do so. But to decide this point, whether, that\nis, it be expedient for the general welfare to break them or not, is\nwithin the right of no private person, but of him only who holds\ndominion; therefore of these laws he who holds dominion remains sole\ninterpreter. Moreover, no private person can by right vindicate these\nlaws, and so they do not really bind him who holds dominion.\nNotwithstanding, if they are of such a nature that they cannot be broken\nwithout at the same time weakening the commonwealth's strength, that is,\nwithout at the same time changing to indignation the common fear of most\nof the citizens, by this very fact the commonwealth is dissolved, and\nthe contract comes to an end; and therefore such contract is vindicated\nnot by the civil law, but by the law of war. And so he who holds\ndominion is not bound to observe the terms of the contract by any other\ncause than that, which bids a man in the state of Nature to beware of\nbeing his own enemy, lest he should destroy himself.\n\n\nIII\n\n_Of the Best State of a Dominion_[39]\n\nWe have shown that man is then most independent when he is most led by\nreason, and, in consequence, that that commonwealth is most powerful and\nmost independent which is founded and guided by reason. But, as the best\nplan of living, so as to assure to the utmost self-preservation, is that\nwhich is framed according to the dictate of reason, therefore it follows\nthat that in every kind is best done, which a man or commonwealth does,\nso far as he or it is in the highest degree independent. For it is one\nthing to till a field by right, and another to till it in the best way.\nOne thing, I say, to defend or preserve oneself, and to pass judgment by\nright, and another to defend or preserve oneself in the best way, and to\npass the best judgment; and, consequently, it is one thing to have\ndominion and care of affairs of state by right, and another to exercise\ndominion and direct affairs of state in the best way. And so, as we have\ntreated of the right of every commonwealth in general, it is time to\ntreat of the best state of every dominion.\n\nNow the quality of the state of any dominion is easily perceived from\nthe end of the civil state, which end is nothing else but peace and\nsecurity of life. And therefore that dominion is the best, where men\npass their lives in unity, and the laws are kept unbroken. For it is\ncertain, that seditions, wars, and contempt or breach of the laws are\nnot so much to be imputed to the wickedness of the subjects, as to the\nbad state of a dominion. For men are not born fit for citizenship, but\nmust be made so. Besides, men's natural passions are everywhere the\nsame; and if wickedness more prevails, and more offenses are committed\nin one commonwealth than in another, it is certain that the former has\nnot enough pursued the end of unity, nor framed its laws with sufficient\nforethought; and that, therefore, it has failed in making quite good its\nright as a commonwealth. For a civil state, which has not done away with\nthe causes of seditions, where war is a perpetual object of fear, and\nwhere, lastly, the laws are often broken, differs but little from the\nmere state of Nature, in which every one lives after his own mind at the\ngreat risk of his life.\n\nBut as the vices and inordinate license and contumacy of subjects must\nbe imputed to the commonwealth, so, on the other hand, their virtue and\nconstant obedience to the laws are to be ascribed in the main to the\nvirtue and perfect right of the commonwealth. And so it is deservedly\nreckoned to Hannibal as an extraordinary virtue, that in his army there\nnever arose a sedition.\n\nOf a commonwealth, whose subjects are but hindered by terror from taking\narms, it should rather be said, that it is free from war, than that it\nhas peace. For peace is not mere absence of war, but is a virtue that\nsprings from force of character: for obedience is the constant will to\nexecute what, by the general decree of the commonwealth, ought to be\ndone. Besides, that commonwealth whose peace depends on the\nsluggishness of its subjects, that are led about like sheep to learn\nbut slavery, may more properly be called a desert than a commonwealth.\n\nWhen, then, we call that dominion best, where men pass their lives in\nunity, I understand a human life, defined not by mere circulation of the\nblood, and other qualities common to all animals, but above all by\nreason, the true excellence and life of the mind.\n\nBut be it remarked that, by the dominion which I have said is\nestablished for this end, I intend that which has been established by a\nfree multitude, not that which is acquired over a multitude by right of\nwar. For a free multitude is guided more by hope than fear; a conquered\none, more by fear than by hope: inasmuch as the former aims at making\nuse of life, the latter but at escaping death. The former, I say, aims\nat living for its own ends, the latter is forced to belong to the\nconqueror; and so we say that this is enslaved, but that free. And,\ntherefore, the end of a dominion, which one gets by right of war, is to\nbe master, and have rather slaves than subjects. And although between\nthe dominion created by a free multitude, and that gained by right of\nwar, if we regard generally the right of each, we can make no essential\ndistinction; yet their ends, as we have already shown, and further the\nmeans to the preservation of each are very different.\n\nBut what means a prince, whose sole motive is lust of mastery, should\nuse to establish and maintain his dominion, the most ingenious\nMachiavelli has set forth at large,[40] but with what design one can\nhardly be sure. If, however, he had some good design, as one should\nbelieve of a learned man, it seems to have been to show, with how little\nforesight many attempt to remove a tyrant, though thereby the causes\nwhich make the prince a tyrant can in no wise be removed, but, on the\ncontrary, are so much the more established, as the prince is given more\ncause to fear, which happens when the multitude has made an example of\nits prince, and glories in the parricide as in a thing well done.\nMoreover, he perhaps wished to show how cautious a free multitude should\nbe of entrusting its welfare absolutely to one man, who, unless in his\nvanity he thinks he can please everybody, must be in daily fear of\nplots, and so is forced to look chiefly after his own interest, and, as\nfor the multitude, rather to plot against it than consult its good. And\nI am the more led to this opinion concerning that most far-seeing man,\nbecause it is known that he was favorable to liberty, for the\nmaintenance of which he has besides given the most wholesome advice.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[36] From _A Political Treatise_, ch. iii, same title.\n\n[37] Literally, \"oil and trouble\"--a common proverbial expression in\nLatin.\n\n[38] From _A Political Treatise_, ch. iv, same title.\n\n[39] From _A Political Treatise_, ch. v, same title.\n\n[40] In his book called \"Il Principe,\" or \"The Prince.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\n\nFREEDOM OF THOUGHT AND SPEECH[41]\n\n\nIf men's minds were as easily controlled as their tongues, every king\nwould sit safely on his throne, and government by compulsion would\ncease; for every subject would shape his life according to the\nintentions of his rulers, and would esteem a thing true or false, good\nor evil, just or unjust, in obedience to their dictates. However, ... no\nman's mind can possibly lie wholly at the disposition of another, for no\none can willingly transfer his natural right of free reason and\njudgment, or be compelled so to do. For this reason government which\nattempts to control minds is accounted tyrannical, and it is considered\nan abuse of sovereignty and a usurpation of the rights of subjects to\nseek to prescribe what shall be accepted as true, or rejected as false,\nor what opinions should actuate men in their worship of God. All these\nquestions fall within a man's natural right, which he cannot abdicate\neven with his own consent.\n\nI admit that the judgment can be biased in many ways, and to an almost\nincredible degree, so that while exempt from direct external control it\nmay be so dependent on another man's words, that it may fitly be said to\nbe ruled by him; but although this influence is carried to great\nlengths, it has never gone so far as to invalidate the statement that\nevery man's understanding is his own, and that brains are as diverse as\npalates.\n\nMoses, not by fraud, but by Divine virtue, gained such a hold over the\npopular judgment that he was accounted superhuman, and believed to speak\nand act through the inspiration of the Deity; nevertheless, even he\ncould not escape murmurs and evil interpretations. How much less then\ncan other monarchs avoid them! Yet such unlimited power, if it exists at\nall, must belong to a monarch, and least of all to a democracy, where\nthe whole or a great part of the people wield authority collectively.\nThis is a fact which I think every one can explain for himself.\n\nHowever unlimited, therefore, the power of a sovereign may be, however\nimplicitly it is trusted as the exponent of law and religion, it can\nnever prevent men from forming judgments according to their intellect,\nor being influenced by any given emotion. It is true that it has the\nright to treat as enemies all men whose opinions do not, on all\nsubjects, entirely coincide with its own; but we are not discussing its\nstrict rights, but its proper course of action. I grant that it has the\nright to rule in the most violent manner, and to put citizens to death\nfor very trivial causes, but no one supposes it can do this with the\napproval of sound judgment. Nay, inasmuch as such things cannot be done\nwithout extreme peril to itself, we may even deny that it has the\nabsolute power to do them, or, consequently, the absolute right; for the\nrights of the sovereign are limited by his power.\n\nSince, therefore, no one can abdicate his freedom of judgment and\nfeeling; since every man is by indefeasible natural right the master of\nhis own thoughts, it follows that men, thinking in diverse and\ncontradictory fashions, cannot, without disastrous results, be compelled\nto speak only according to the dictates of the supreme power. Not even\nthe most experienced, to say nothing of the multitude, know how to keep\nsilence. Men's common failing is to confide their plans to others,\nthough there be need for secrecy, so that a government would be most\nharsh which deprived the individual of his freedom of saying and\nteaching what he thought; and would be moderate if such freedom were\ngranted. Still we cannot deny that authority may be as much injured by\nwords as by actions. Hence, although the freedom we are discussing\ncannot be entirely denied to subjects, its unlimited concession would be\nmost baneful; we must, therefore, now inquire, how far such freedom can\nand ought to be conceded without danger to the peace of the state, or\nthe power of the rulers.\n\nIt follows, plainly, from the explanation given above, of the\nfoundations of a state, that the ultimate aim of government is not to\nrule, or restrain by fear, nor to exact obedience, but, contrariwise, to\nfree every man from fear that he may live in all possible security; in\nother words, to strengthen his natural right to exist and work without\ninjury to himself or others.\n\nNo, the object of government is not to change men from rational beings\ninto beasts or puppets, but to enable them to develop their minds and\nbodies in security, and to employ their reason unshackled; neither\nshowing hatred, anger or deceit, nor watched with the eyes of jealousy\nand injustice. In fact, the true aim of government is liberty.\n\nNow we have seen that in forming a state the power of making laws must\neither be vested in the body of the citizens, or in a portion of them,\nor in one man. For, although men's free judgments are very diverse, each\none thinking that he alone knows everything, and although complete\nunanimity of feeling and speech is out of the question, it is impossible\nto preserve peace unless individuals abdicate their right of acting\nentirely on their own judgment. Therefore, the individual justly cedes\nthe right of free action, though not of free reason and judgment; no one\ncan act against the authorities without danger to the state, though his\nfeelings and judgment may be at variance therewith; he may even speak\nagainst them, provided that he does so from rational conviction, not\nfrom fraud, anger or hatred, and provided that he does not attempt to\nintroduce any change on his private authority.\n\nFor instance, supposing a man shows that a law is repugnant to sound\nreason, and should therefore be repealed; if he submits his opinion to\nthe judgment of the authorities (who alone have the right of making and\nrepealing laws), and meanwhile acts in nowise contrary to that law, he\nhas deserved well of the state, and has behaved as a good citizen\nshould; but if he accuses the authorities of injustice, and stirs up the\npeople against them, or if he seditiously strives to abrogate the law\nwithout their consent, he is a mere agitator and rebel.\n\nThus we see how an individual may declare and teach what he believes,\nwithout injury to the authority of his rulers, or to the public peace;\nnamely, by leaving in their hands the entire power of legislation as it\naffects action, and by doing nothing against their laws, though he be\ncompelled often to act in contradiction to what he believes, and openly\nfeels, to be best.\n\nSuch a course can be taken without detriment to justice and dutifulness,\nnay, it is the one which a just and dutiful man would adopt. We have\nshown that justice is dependent on the laws of the authorities, so that\nno one who contravenes their accepted decrees can be just, while the\nhighest regard for duty, as we have pointed out, is exercised in\nmaintaining public peace and tranquillity. These could not be preserved\nif every man were to live as he pleased. Therefore it is no less than\nundutiful for a man to act contrary to his country's laws, for if the\npractice became universal the ruin of states would necessarily follow.\n\nHence, so long as a man acts in obedience to the laws of his rulers, he\nin nowise contravenes his reason, for in obedience to reason he\ntransferred the right of controlling his actions from his own hands to\ntheirs. This doctrine we can confirm from actual custom, for in a\nconference of great and small powers, schemes are seldom carried\nunanimously, yet all unite in carrying out what is decided on, whether\nthey voted for or against. But I return to my proposition.\n\nFrom the fundamental notions of a state, we have discovered how a man\nmay exercise free judgment without detriment to the supreme power: from\nthe same premises we can no less easily determine what opinions would be\nseditious. Evidently those which by their very nature nullify the\ncompact by which the right of free action was ceded. For instance, a\nman who holds that the supreme power has no rights over him, or that\npromises ought not to be kept, or that every one should live as he\npleases, or other doctrines of this nature in direct opposition to the\nabove-mentioned contract, is seditious, not so much from his actual\nopinions and judgment, as from the deeds which they involve; for he who\nmaintains such theories abrogates the contract which tacitly, or openly,\nhe made with his rulers. Other opinions which do not involve acts\nviolating the contract, such as revenge, anger, and the like, are not\nseditious, unless it be in some corrupt state, where superstitious and\nambitious persons, unable to endure men of learning, are so popular with\nthe multitude that their word is more valued than the law.\n\nHowever, I do not deny that there are some doctrines which, while they\nare apparently only concerned with abstract truths and falsehoods, are\nyet propounded and published with unworthy motives.... Reason should\nnevertheless remain unshackled. If we hold to the principle that a man's\nloyalty to the state should be judged, like his loyalty to God, from his\nactions only--namely, from his charity towards his neighbors; we cannot\ndoubt that the best government will allow freedom of philosophical\nspeculation no less than of religious belief. I confess that from such\nfreedom inconveniences may sometimes arise, but what question was ever\nsettled so wisely than no abuses could possibly spring therefrom? He who\nseeks to regulate everything by law is more likely to arouse vices than\nto reform them. It is best to grant what cannot be abolished, even\nthough it be in itself harmful. How many evils spring from luxury,\nenvy, avarice, drunkenness and the like, yet these are tolerated--vices\nas they are--because they cannot be prevented by legal enactments. How\nmuch more, then, should free thought be granted, seeing that it is in\nitself a virtue and that it cannot be crushed! Besides, the evil results\ncan easily be checked, as I will show, by the secular authorities, not\nto mention that such freedom is absolutely necessary for progress in\nscience and the liberal arts: for no man follows such pursuits to\nadvantage unless his judgment be entirely free and unhampered.\n\nBut let it be granted that freedom may be crushed, and men be so bound\ndown that they do not dare to utter a whisper, save at the bidding of\ntheir rulers; nevertheless this can never be carried to the pitch of\nmaking them think according to authority, so that the necessary\nconsequences would be that men would daily be thinking one thing and\nsaying another, to the corruption of good faith, that mainstay of\ngovernment, and to the fostering of hateful flattery and perfidy, whence\nspring stratagems, and the corruption of every good art.\n\nIt is far from possible to impose uniformity of speech, for the more\nrulers strive to curtail freedom of speech the more obstinately are they\nresisted; not indeed by the avaricious, the flatterers, and other\nnumskulls, who think supreme salvation consists in filling their\nstomachs and gloating over their money-bags, but by those whom good\neducation, sound morality, and virtue have rendered more free. Men, as\ngenerally constituted, are most prone to resent the branding as criminal\nof opinions which they believe to be true, and the proscription as\nwicked of that which inspires them with piety towards God and man;\nhence they are ready to forswear the laws and conspire against the\nauthorities, thinking it not shameful but honorable to stir up seditions\nand perpetuate any sort of crime with this end in view. Such being the\nconstitution of human nature, we see that laws directed against opinions\naffect the generous minded rather than the wicked, and are adapted less\nfor coercing criminals than for irritating the upright; so that they\ncannot be maintained without great peril to the state.\n\nMoreover, such laws are almost always useless, for those who hold that\nthe opinions proscribed are sound, cannot possibly obey the law; whereas\nthose who already reject them as false, accept the law as a kind of\nprivilege, and make such boast of it, that authority is powerless to\nrepeal it, even if such a course be subsequently desired.\n\n... And, lastly, how many schisms have arisen in the Church from the\nattempt of the authorities to decide by law the intricacies of\ntheological controversy! If men were not allured by the hope of getting\nthe law and the authorities on their side, of triumphing over their\nadversaries in the sight of an applauding multitude, and of acquiring\nhonorable distinctions, they would not strive so maliciously, nor would\nsuch fury sway their minds. This is taught not only by reason but by\ndaily examples, for laws of this kind prescribing what every man shall\nbelieve and forbidding any one to speak or write to the contrary, have\noften been passed as sops or concessions to the anger of those who\ncannot tolerate men of enlightenment, and who, by such harsh and crooked\nenactments, can easily turn the devotion of the masses into fury and\ndirect it against whom they will.\n\nHow much better would it be to restrain popular anger and fury, instead\nof passing useless laws, which can only be broken by those who love\nvirtue and the liberal arts, thus paring down the state till it is too\nsmall to harbor men of talent. What greater misfortune for a state can\nbe conceived than that honorable men should be sent like criminals into\nexile, because they hold diverse opinions which they cannot disguise?\nWhat, I say, can be more hurtful than that men who have committed no\ncrime or wickedness should, simply because they are enlightened, be\ntreated as enemies and put to death, and that the scaffold, the terror\nof evil-doers, should become the arena where the highest examples of\ntolerance and virtue are displayed to the people with all the marks of\nignominy that authority can devise?\n\nHe that knows himself to be upright does not fear the death of a\ncriminal, and shrinks from no punishment. His mind is not wrung with\nremorse for any disgraceful deed. He holds that death in a good cause is\nno punishment, but an honor, and that death for freedom is glory.\n\nWhat purpose, then, is served by the death of such men, what example is\nproclaimed? The cause for which they die is unknown to the idle and the\nfoolish, hateful to the turbulent, loved by the upright. The only lesson\nwe can draw from such scenes is to flatter the persecutor, or else to\nimitate the victim.\n\nIf formal assent is not to be esteemed above conviction, and if\ngovernments are to retain a firm hold of authority and not be compelled\nto yield to agitators, it is imperative that freedom of judgment should\nbe granted, so that men may live together in harmony, however diverse,\nor even openly contradictory their opinions may be. We cannot doubt that\nsuch is the best system of government and open to the fewest objections,\nsince it is the one most in harmony with human nature. In a democracy\n(the most natural form of government) every one submits to the control\nof authority over his actions, but not over his judgment and reason;\nthat is, seeing that all cannot think alike, the voice of the majority\nhas the force of law, subject to repeal if circumstances bring about a\nchange of opinion. In proportion as the power of free judgment is\nwithheld we depart from the natural condition of mankind, and\nconsequently the government becomes more tyrannical.\n\nIn order to prove that from such freedom no inconvenience arises which\ncannot easily be checked by the exercise of the sovereign power, and\nthat men's actions can easily be kept in bounds, though their opinions\nbe at open variance, it will be well to cite an example. Such an one is\nnot very far to seek. The city of Amsterdam reaps the fruit of this\nfreedom in its own great prosperity and in the admiration of all other\npeople. For in this most flourishing state, and most splendid city, men\nof every nation and religion live together in the greatest harmony, and\nask no questions before trusting their goods to a fellow-citizen, save\nwhether he be rich or poor, and whether he generally acts honestly, or\nthe reverse. His religion and sect is considered of no importance: for\nit has no effect before the judges in gaining or losing a cause, and\nthere is no sect so despised that its followers, provided that they harm\nno one, pay every man his due, and live uprightly, are deprived of the\nprotection of the magisterial authority.\n\nOn the other hand, when the religious controversy between Remonstrants\nand Counter-Remonstrants began to be taken up by politicians and the\nStates, it grew into a schism, and abundantly showed that laws dealing\nwith religion and seeking to settle its controversies are much more\ncalculated to irritate than to reform, and that they give rise to\nextreme license. Further, it was seen that schisms do not originate in a\nlove of truth, which is a source of courtesy and gentleness, but rather\nin an inordinate desire for supremacy. From all these considerations it\nis clearer than the sun at noonday, that the true schismatics are those\nwho condemn other men's writings, and seditiously stir up the\nquarrelsome masses against their authors, rather than those authors\nthemselves, who generally write only for the learned, and appeal solely\nto reason. In fact, the real disturbers of the peace are those who, in a\nfree state, seek to curtail the liberty of judgment which they are\nunable to tyrannize over.\n\nI have thus shown:--I. That it is impossible to deprive men of the\nliberty of saying what they think. II. That such liberty can be conceded\nto every man without injury to the rights and authority of the sovereign\npower, and that every man may retain it without injury to such rights,\nprovided that he does not presume upon it to the extent of introducing\nany new rights into the state, or acting in any way contrary to the\nexisting laws. III. That every man may enjoy this liberty without\ndetriment to the public peace, and that no inconveniences arise\ntherefrom which cannot easily be checked. IV. That every man may enjoy\nit without injury to his allegiance. V. That laws dealing with\nspeculative problems are entirely useless. VI. Lastly, that not only may\nsuch liberty be granted without prejudice to the public peace, to\nloyalty, and to the rights of rulers, but that it is even necessary for\ntheir preservation. For when people try to take it away, and bring to\ntrial, not only the acts which alone are capable of offending, but also\nthe opinions of mankind, they only succeed in surrounding their victims\nwith an appearance of martyrdom, and raise feelings of pity and revenge\nrather than of terror. Uprightness and good faith are thus corrupted,\nflatterers and traitors are encouraged, and sectarians triumph, inasmuch\nas concessions have been made to their animosity, and they have gained\nthe state sanction for the doctrines of which they are the interpreters.\nHence they arrogate to themselves the state authority and rights, and do\nnot scruple to assert that they have been directly chosen by God, and\nthat their laws are Divine, whereas the laws of the state are human, and\nshould therefore yield obedience to the laws of God--in other words, to\ntheir own laws. Every one must see that this is not a state of affairs\nconducive to public welfare. Wherefore, the safest way for a state is to\nlay down the rule that religion is comprised solely in the exercise of\ncharity and justice, and that the rights of rulers in sacred, no less\nthan in secular matters, should merely have to do with actions, but that\nevery man should think what he likes and say what he thinks.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[41] From the _Tr. Th.-P._, ch. xx, same title.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\n\nOF HUMAN FREEDOM\n\n\n_Introductory_\n\nI pass at length to the other part of ethics which concerns the method\nor way which leads to liberty. In [the following], therefore, I shall\ntreat of the power of reason, showing how much reason itself can control\nthe emotions, and then what is freedom of mind or blessedness. Thence we\nshall see how much stronger the wise man is than the ignorant. In what\nmanner and what way the intellect should be rendered perfect, and with\nwhat art the body is to be cared for in order that it may properly\nperform its functions, I have nothing to do with here; for the former\nbelongs to logic, the latter to medicine. I shall occupy myself here, as\nI have said, solely with the power of the mind or of reason, first of\nall showing the extent and nature of the authority which it has over the\nemotions in restraining them and governing them; for that we have not\nabsolute authority over them we have already demonstrated. The Stoics\nindeed thought that the emotions depend absolutely on our will, and that\nwe are absolutely masters over them; but they were driven, by the\ncontradiction of experience, though not by their own principles, to\nconfess that not a little practice and study are required in order to\nrestrain and govern the emotions. This one of them attempted to\nillustrate, if I remember rightly, by the example of two dogs, one of a\ndomestic and the other of a hunting breed; for he was able by habit to\nmake the house dog hunt, and the hunting dog, on the contrary, to desist\nfrom running after hares.\n\nTo the Stoical opinion Descartes much inclines. He affirms that the soul\nor mind is united specially to a certain part of the brain called the\npineal gland, which the mind by the mere exercise of the will is able to\nmove in different ways, and by whose help the mind perceives all the\nmovements which are excited in the body and external objects. This\ngland, he affirms, is suspended in the middle of the brain in such a\nmanner that it can be moved by the least motion of the animal spirits.\nAgain, he affirms that any variation in the manner in which the animal\nspirits impinge upon this gland is followed by a variation in the manner\nin which it is suspended in the middle of the brain, and moreover that\nthe number of different impressions on the gland is the same as that of\nthe different external objects which propel the animal spirits toward\nit. Hence it comes to pass that if the gland, by the will of the soul\nmoving it in different directions, be afterwards suspended in this or\nthat way in which it had once been suspended by the spirits agitated in\nthis or that way, then the gland itself will propel and determine the\nanimal spirits themselves in the same way as that in which they had\nbefore been repelled by a similar suspension of the gland. Moreover, he\naffirmed that each volition of the mind is united in Nature to a certain\nmotion of the gland. For example, if a person wishes to behold a remote\nobject, this volition will cause the pupil of the eye to dilate, but if\nhe thinks merely of the dilation of the pupil, to have that volition\nwill profit him nothing, because Nature has not connected a motion of\nthe gland which serves to impel the animal spirits towards the optic\nnerve in a way suitable for dilation or contraction of the pupil with\nthe volition or dilation or contraction, but only with the volition of\nbeholding objects afar off or close at hand. Finally, he maintained that\nalthough each motion of this gland appears to be connected by Nature\nfrom the commencement of our life with an individual thought, these\nmotions can nevertheless be connected by habit with other thoughts, a\nproposition which he attempts to demonstrate in his \"Passions of the\nSoul\" (art. 50, pt. 1).\n\nFrom this he concludes that there is no mind so feeble that it cannot,\nwhen properly directed, acquire absolute power over its passions; for\npassions, as defined by him, are \"perceptions, or sensations, or\nemotions of the soul which are related to it specially, and which (N.B.)\nare produced, preserved, and strengthened by some motion of the\nspirits.\" (See the \"Passions of Soul,\" art. 27, pt. 1.) But since it is\npossible to join to a certain volition any motion of the gland, and\nconsequently of the spirits, and since the determination of the will\ndepends solely on our power, we shall be able to acquire absolute\nmastery over our passions provided only we determine our will by fixed\nand firm decisions by which we desire to direct our actions and bind\nwith these decisions the movements of the passions we wish to have.\n\nSo far as I can gather from his own words, this is the opinion of that\ndistinguished man, and I could scarcely have believed it possible for\none so great to have put it forward if it had been less subtle. I can\nhardly wonder enough that a philosopher who firmly resolved to make no\ndeduction except from self-evident principles, and to affirm nothing but\nwhat he clearly and distinctly perceived, and who blamed all the\nSchoolmen because they desired to explain obscure matters by occult\nqualities, should accept a hypothesis more occult than any occult\nquality.\n\nWhat does he understand, I ask, by the union of the mind and body? What\nclear and distinct conception has he of thought intimately connected\nwith a certain small portion of matter? I wish that he had explained\nthis union by its proximate cause. But he conceived the mind to be so\ndistinct from the body that he was able to assign no single cause of\nthis union, nor of the mind itself, but was obliged to have recourse to\nthe cause of the whole universe, that is to say, to God. Again, I should\nlike to know how many degrees of motion the mind can give to that pineal\ngland, and with how great a power the mind can hold it suspended. For I\ndo not understand whether this gland is acted on by the mind more slowly\nor more quickly than by the animal spirits, and whether the movements of\nthe passions, which we have so closely bound with firm decisions, might\nnot be separated from them again by bodily causes, from which it would\nfollow that although the mind had firmly determined to meet danger, and\nhad joined to this decision the motion of boldness, the sight of the\ndanger might cause the gland to be suspended in such a manner that the\nmind could think of nothing but flight. Indeed, since there is no\nrelation between the will and motion, so there is no comparison between\nthe power or strength of the body and that of the mind, and consequently\nthe strength of the body can never be determined by the strength of the\nmind. It is to be remembered also that this gland is not found to be so\nsituated in the middle of the brain that it can be driven about so\neasily and in so many ways, and that all the nerves are not extended to\nthe cavities of the brain.\n\nLastly, I omit all that Descartes asserts concerning the will and the\nfreedom of the will, since I have shown over and over again that it is\nfalse. Therefore, inasmuch as the power of the mind, as I have shown\nabove, is determined by intelligence alone, we shall determine by the\nknowledge of the mind alone the remedies against the emotions--remedies\nwhich every one, I believe, has experienced, although there may not have\nbeen any accurate observation or distinct perception of them, and from\nthis knowledge of the mind alone shall we deduce everything which\nrelates to its blessedness.\n\n\n_Axioms_\n\nI. If two contrary actions be excited in the same subject, a change must\nnecessarily take place in both, or in one alone, until they cease to be\ncontrary.\n\nII. The power of an emotion is limited by the power of its cause, in so\nfar as the essence of the emotion is manifested or limited by the\nessence of the cause itself.\n\n\n_The Strength of the Emotions_\n\nThe emotion towards an object which we imagine to be free is greater\nthan towards one which is necessary, and consequently still greater\nthan towards one which we imagine as possible or contingent. But to\nimagine an object as free can be nothing else than to imagine it simply,\nwhile we know not the causes by which it was determined to action. An\nemotion, therefore, towards an object which we simply imagine is, other\nthings being equal, greater than towards one which we imagine as\nnecessary, possible, or contingent, and consequently greatest of all.\n\nThe mind understands all things to be necessary and determined by an\ninfinite chain of causes to existence and action, and therefore so far\nenables itself to suffer less from the emotions which arise from these\nthings, and to be less affected towards them.\n\nThe more this knowledge that things are necessary is applied to\nindividual things which we imagine more distinctly and more vividly, the\ngreater is this power of the mind over the emotions--a fact to which\nexperience also testifies. For we see that sorrow for the loss of\nanything good is diminished if the person who has lost it considers that\nit could not by any possibility have been preserved. So also we see that\nnobody pities an infant because it does not know how to speak, walk, or\nreason, and lives so many years not conscious, as it were, of itself.\nBut if a number of human beings were born adult, and only a few here and\nthere were born infants, every one would pity the infants, because we\nshould then consider infancy not as a thing natural and necessary, but\nas a defect or fault of Nature. Many other facts of a similar kind we\nmight observe.\n\nWe do not contemplate an object as absent by reason of the emotion by\nwhich we imagine it, but by reason of the fact that the body is affected\nwith another modification, which excludes the existence of that object.\nThe emotion, therefore, which is related to an object which we\ncontemplate as absent, is not of such a nature as to overcome the other\nactions and power of man, but, on the contrary, is of such a nature that\nit can in some way be restrained by those modifications which exclude\nthe existence of its external cause. But the emotion which arises from\nreason is necessarily related to the common properties of things, which\nwe always contemplate as present for nothing can exist which excludes\ntheir present existence, and which we always imagine in the same way.\nThis emotion, therefore, always remains the same, and consequently the\nemotions which are contrary to it, and which are not maintained by their\nexternal cause, must more and more accommodate themselves to it until\nthey are no longer contrary to it. So far, therefore, the emotion which\nsprings from reason is the stronger.\n\nA number of simultaneous causes can do more than if they were fewer, and\ntherefore the greater the number of the simultaneous causes by which an\nemotion is excited, the greater it is.\n\nAn emotion is bad or injurious only in so far as it hinders the mind\nfrom thinking and therefore that emotion by which the mind is determined\nto the contemplation of a number of objects at the same time is less\ninjurious than another emotion equally great which holds the mind in the\ncontemplation of one object alone or of a few objects, so that it cannot\nthink of others. Again, since the essence of the mind, that is to say,\nits power, consists in thought alone, the mind suffers less through an\nemotion by which it is determined to the contemplation of a number of\nobjects at the same time than through an emotion equally great which\nholds it occupied in the contemplation of one object alone or of a few\nobjects. Finally, this emotion, in so far as it is related to a number\nof external causes, is therefore less towards each.\n\n\n_The Power of the Intellect Over the Emotions_\n\nI\n\n_General Principles_\n\nThe order and connection of ideas is the same as the order and\nconnection of things, and _vice versa_, the order and connection of\nthings is the same as the order and connection of ideas. Therefore, as\nthe order and connection of ideas in the mind is according to the order\nand connection of the modifications of the body it follows _vice versa_,\nthat the order and connection of the modifications of the body is\naccording to the order and connection in the mind of the thoughts and\nideas of things.\n\nIf we detach an emotion of the mind from the thought of an external\ncause and connect it with other thoughts, then the love or hatred\ntowards the external cause and the fluctuations of the mind which arise\nfrom these emotions will be destroyed.\n\nAn emotion which is a passion is a confused idea. If, therefore, we form\na clear and distinct idea of this emotion, the idea will not be\ndistinguished--except by reason--from this emotion, in so far as the\nemotion is related to the mind alone, and therefore the emotion will\ncease to be a passion.\n\nIn proportion, then, as we know an emotion better is it more within our\ncontrol, and the less does the mind suffer from it.\n\nThose things which are common to all cannot be otherwise than adequately\nconceived and therefore there is no modification of the body of which we\ncannot form some clear and distinct conception.\n\nHence it follows that there is no emotion of which we cannot form some\nclear and distinct conception. For an emotion is an idea of a\nmodification of the body, and this idea therefore must involve some\nclear and distinct conception.\n\nSince nothing exists from which some effect does not follow, and since\nwe understand clearly and distinctly everything which follows from an\nidea which is adequate in us, it is a necessary consequence that every\none has the power, partly at least, if not absolutely, of understanding\nclearly and distinctly himself and his emotions, and consequently of\nbringing it to pass that he suffers less from them. We have therefore\nmainly to strive to acquire a clear and distinct knowledge as far as\npossible of each emotion, so that the mind may be led to pass from the\nemotion to think those things which it perceives clearly and distinctly,\nand with which it is entirely satisfied, and to strive also that the\nemotion may be separated from the thought of an external cause and\nconnected with true thoughts. Thus not only love, hatred, etc., will be\ndestroyed, but also the appetites or desires to which the emotion gives\nrise cannot be excessive. For it is above everything to be observed\nthat the appetite by which a man is said to act is one and the same\nappetite as that by which he is said to suffer. For example, we have\nshown that human nature is so constituted that every one desires that\nother people should live according to his way of thinking, a desire\nwhich in a man who is not guided by reason is a passion which is called\nambition, and is not very different from pride; while, on the other\nhand, in a man who lives according to the dictates of reason it is an\naction or virtue which is called piety. In the same manner, all the\nappetites or desires are passions only in so far as they arise from\ninadequate ideas, and are classed among the virtues whenever they are\nexcited or begotten by adequate ideas; for all the desires by which we\nare determined to any action may arise either from adequate or\ninadequate ideas. To return, therefore, to the point from which we set\nout: there is no remedy within our power which can be conceived more\nexcellent for the emotions than that which consists in true knowledge of\nthem, since the mind possesses no other power than that of thinking and\nforming adequate ideas, as we have shown above.\n\n\nII\n\n_The Natural Basis of Rational Control_\n\nThe greater the number of objects to which an image or emotion is\nrelated, the greater is the number of causes by which it can be excited\nand cherished. All these causes the mind contemplates simultaneously by\nmeans of the emotion (by hypothesis), and therefore the more constant is\nthe emotion, or the more frequently does it present itself, and the\nmore does it occupy the mind.\n\nThings which we clearly and distinctly understand are either the common\nproperties of things or what are deduced from them, and consequently are\nmore frequently excited in us; and therefore it is easier for us to\ncontemplate other things together with these which we clearly and\ndistinctly understand than with any others, and consequently it is\neasier to connect things with these which we clearly and distinctly\nunderstand than with any others.\n\nThe greater the number of other things with which any image is\nconnected, the more frequently does it present itself. For the greater\nthe number of other things with which an image is connected, the greater\nis the number of causes by which it may be excited.\n\nThere is no modification of the body of which the mind cannot form some\nclear and distinct conception and therefore it can cause all the\nmodifications of the body to be related to the idea of God.\n\n\nIII\n\n_The Function of the Intellectual Order_\n\nThe emotions which are contrary to our nature, that is to say, which are\nevil, are evil so far as they hinder the mind from understanding. So\nlong, therefore, as we are not agitated by emotions which are contrary\nto our nature, so long the power of the mind by which it endeavors to\nunderstand things is not hindered, and therefore so long does it possess\nthe power of forming clear and distinct ideas, and of deducing them the\none from the other. So long, consequently, do we possess the power of\narranging and connecting the modifications of the body according to the\norder of the intellect.\n\nThrough this power of properly arranging and connecting the\nmodifications of the body we can prevent ourselves from being easily\naffected by evil emotions. For a greater power is required to restrain\nemotions which are arranged and connected according to the order of the\nintellect than is required to restrain those which are uncertain and\nunsettled. The best thing, therefore, we can do, so long as we lack a\nperfect knowledge of our emotions, is to conceive a right rule of life,\nor sure maxims (_dogmata_) of life--to commit these latter to memory,\nand constantly to apply them to the particular cases which frequently\nmeet us in life, so that our imagination may be widely affected by them,\nand they may always be ready to hand. For example, amongst the maxims of\nlife we have placed this, that hatred is to be conquered by love or\ngenerosity, and is not to be met with hatred in return. But in order\nthat we may always have this prescript of reason in readiness whenever\nit will be of service, we must think over and often meditate upon the\ncommon injuries inflicted by men, and consider how and in what way they\nmay best be repelled by generosity; for thus we shall connect the image\nof injury with the imagination of this maxim, and it will be at hand\nwhenever an injury is offered to us. If we also continually have regard\nto our own true profit, and the good which follows from mutual\nfriendship and common fellowship, and remember that the highest peace of\nmind arises from a right rule of life, and also that man, like other\nthings, acts according to the necessity of Nature, then the injury or\nthe hatred which usually arises from that necessity will occupy but the\nleast part of the imagination, and will be easily overcome: or supposing\nthat the anger which generally arises from the greatest injuries is not\nso easily overcome, it will nevertheless be overcome, although not\nwithout fluctuation of mind, in a far shorter space of time than would\nhave been necessary if we had not possessed those maxims on which we had\nthus meditated beforehand.\n\nConcerning strength of mind, we must reflect in the same way for the\npurpose of getting rid of fear, that is to say, we must often enumerate\nand imagine the common dangers of life, and think upon the manner in\nwhich they can best be avoided and overcome by presence of mind and\ncourage. It is to be observed, however, that in the ordering of our\nthoughts and images we must always look to those qualities which in each\nthing are good, so that we may be determined to action always by an\nemotion of joy.\n\nFor example, if a man sees that he pursues glory too eagerly, let him\nthink on its proper use, for what end it is to be followed, and by what\nmeans it can be obtained; but let him not think upon its abuse and\nvanity, and on the inconstancy of men, and things of this sort, about\nwhich no one thinks unless through disease of mind. For with such\nthoughts do those who are ambitious greatly torment themselves when they\ndespair of obtaining the honors for which they are striving; and while\nthey vomit forth rage, wish to be thought wise. Indeed it is certain\nthat those covet glory the most who are loudest in declaiming against\nits abuse and the vanity of the world. Nor is this a peculiarity of the\nambitious, but is common to all to whom fortune is adverse and who are\nimpotent in mind; for we see that a poor and avaricious man is never\nweary of speaking about the abuse of money and the vices of the rich,\nthereby achieving nothing save to torment himself and show to others\nthat he is unable to bear with equanimity not only his own poverty but\nalso the wealth of others. So also a man who has not been well deceived\nby his mistress thinks of nothing but the fickleness of women, their\nfaithlessness, and their other oft-proclaimed failing--all of which he\nforgets as soon as he is taken into favor by his mistress again. He,\ntherefore, who desires to govern his emotions and appetites from a love\nof liberty alone will strive as much as he can to know virtues and their\ncauses, and to fill his mind with that joy which springs from a true\nknowledge of them. Least of all will he desire to contemplate the vices\nof men and disparage men, or to delight in a false show of liberty. He\nwho will diligently observe these things (and they are not difficult),\nand will continue to practice them, will assuredly in a short space of\ntime be able for the most part to direct his actions in accordance with\nthe command of reason.\n\n\nIV\n\n_Summary_\n\nI have, in what has preceded, included all the remedies for the\nemotions, that is to say, everything which the mind, considered in\nitself alone, can do against them. It appears therefrom that the power\nof the mind over the emotions consists--\n\n1. In the knowledge itself of the emotions.\n\n2. In the separation by the mind of the emotions from the thought of an\nexternal cause, which we imagine confusedly.\n\n3. In duration, in which the emotions which are related to objects we\nunderstand surpass those related to objects conceived in a mutilated or\nconfused manner.\n\n4. In the multitude of causes by which the emotions which are related to\nthe common properties of things or to God are nourished.\n\n5. In the order in which the mind can arrange its emotions and connect\nthem one with the other.\n\nBut that this power of the mind over the emotions may be better\nunderstood, it is to be carefully observed that we call the emotions\ngreat when we compare the emotion of one man with that of another, and\nsee that one man is agitated more than another by the same emotion, or\nwhen we compare the emotions of one and the same man with one another,\nand discover that he is affected or moved more by one emotion than by\nanother.\n\nFor the power of any emotion is limited by the power of the external\ncause as compared with our own power. But the power of the mind is\nlimited solely by knowledge, whilst impotence or passion is estimated\nsolely by privation of knowledge, or, in other words, by that through\nwhich ideas are called inadequate; and it therefore follows that that\nmind suffers the most whose largest part consists of inadequate ideas,\nso that it is distinguished rather by what it suffers than by what it\ndoes, while, on the contrary, that mind acts the most whose largest part\nconsists of adequate ideas, so that although it may possess as many\ninadequate ideas as the first, it is nevertheless distinguished rather\nby those which belong to human virtue than by those which are a sign of\nhuman impotence. Again, it is to be observed that our sorrows and\nmisfortunes mainly proceed from too much love towards an object which is\nsubject to many changes, and which we can never possess. For no one is\ntroubled or anxious about any object he does not love, neither do\nwrongs, suspicions, hatreds, etc., arise except from love towards\nobjects of which no one can be truly the possessor.\n\nFrom all this we easily conceive what is the power which clear and\ndistinct knowledge, and especially that third kind of knowledge whose\nfoundation is the knowledge itself of God, possesses over the emotions;\nthe power, namely, by which it is able, in so far as they are passions,\nif not actually to destroy them, at least to make them constitute the\nsmallest part of the mind. Moreover, it begets a love towards an\nimmutable and eternal object of which we are really partakers; a love\nwhich therefore cannot be vitiated by the defects which are in common\nlove, but which can always become greater and greater, occupy the\nlargest part of the mind, and thoroughly affect it.\n\nI have now concluded all that I had to say relating to this present\nlife. For any one who will attend to what has been urged will easily be\nable to see the truth of what I said--that in these few words all the\nremedies for the emotions are comprehended. It is time, therefore, that\nI should now pass to the consideration of those matters which appertain\nto the duration of the mind without relation to the body.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX\n\nOF HUMAN BLESSEDNESS AND THE ETERNITY OF THE MIND\n\n\n_Human Blessedness: The Intellectual Love of God_\n\nI\n\nThe third kind of knowledge proceeds from an adequate idea of certain\nattributes of God to an adequate knowledge of the essence of things; and\nthe more we understand things in this manner, the more we understand\nGod; and therefore the highest virtue of the mind, that is to say, the\npower or nature of the mind, or the highest effort, is to understand\nthings by the third kind of knowledge.\n\nThe better the mind is adapted to understand things by the third kind of\nknowledge, the more it desires to understand them by this kind of\nknowledge.\n\nThe highest virtue of the mind is to know God, or to understand things\nby the third kind of knowledge. This virtue is greater the more the mind\nknows things by this kind of knowledge, and therefore he who knows\nthings by this kind of knowledge passes to the highest human perfection,\nand consequently is affected with the highest joy, which is accompanied\nwith the idea of himself and his own virtue; and therefore from this\nkind of knowledge arises the highest possible peace of mind.\n\nThe effort or the desire to know things by the third kind of knowledge\ncannot arise from the first kind, but may arise from the second kind of\nknowledge. This proposition is self-evident. For everything that we\nclearly and distinctly understand, we understand either through itself\nor through something which is conceived through itself; or, in other\nwords, ideas which are clear and distinct in us, or which are related to\nthe third kind of knowledge, cannot follow from mutilated and confused\nideas, which are related to the first kind of knowledge, but from\nadequate ideas, that is to say, from the second and third kinds of\nknowledge.\n\n\nII\n\nEternity is the very essence of God, in so far as that essence involves\nnecessary existence. To conceive things therefore under the form of\neternity, is to conceive them in so far as they are conceived through\nthe essence of God as actually existing things, or in so far as through\nthe essence of God they involve existence. Therefore our mind, in so far\nas it conceives itself and its body under the form of eternity,\nnecessarily has a knowledge of God, and knows that it is in God and is\nconceived through Him.\n\nWe delight in whatever we understand by the third kind of knowledge, and\nour delight is accompanied with the idea of God as its cause.\n\nFrom the third kind of knowledge necessarily springs the intellectual\nlove of God. For from this kind of knowledge arises joy attended with\nthe idea of God as its cause, that is to say, the love of God, not in so\nfar as we imagine Him as present, but in so far as we understand that\nHe is eternal; and that is what I call the intellectual love of God.\n\nHe who clearly and distinctly understands himself and his emotions\nrejoices, and his joy is attended with the idea of God, therefore he\nloves God, and (by the same reasoning) loves Him better the better he\nunderstands himself and his emotions.\n\nThis intellectual love necessarily follows from the nature of the mind,\nin so far as it is considered, through the nature of God, as an eternal\ntruth. If there were anything, therefore, contrary to this love, it\nwould be contrary to the truth, and consequently whatever might be able\nto negate this love would be able to make the true false, which, as is\nself-evident, is absurd. There exists, therefore, nothing in Nature\ncontrary to this intellectual love, or which can negate it.\n\n\nIII\n\nThis love to God above everything else ought to occupy the mind, for\nthis love is connected with all the modifications of the body, by all of\nwhich it is cherished.\n\nThe idea of God which is in us is adequate and perfect, and therefore in\nso far as we contemplate God do we act and consequently no sorrow can\nexist with the accompanying idea of God; that is to say, no one can hate\nGod.\n\nLove to God cannot be turned into hatred. But some may object, that if\nwe understand God to be the cause of all things, we do for that very\nreason consider Him to be the cause of sorrow. But I reply, that in so\nfar as we understand the causes of sorrow, it ceases to be a passion,\nthat is to say, it ceases to be sorrow; and therefore in so far as we\nunderstand God to be the cause of sorrow do we rejoice.\n\nThis love to God is the highest good which we can seek according to the\ndictate of reason; is common to all men; and we desire that all may\nenjoy it. It cannot, therefore, be sullied by the emotion of envy, nor\nby that of jealousy, but, on the contrary, it must be the more\nstrengthened the more people we imagine to rejoice in it.\n\nIt is possible to show in the same manner that there is no emotion\ndirectly contrary to this love and able to destroy it, and so we may\nconclude that this love to God is the most constant of all the emotions,\nand that, in so far as it is related to the body, it cannot be destroyed\nunless with the body itself. What its nature is, in so far as it is\nrelated to the mind alone, we shall see hereafter.\n\n\nIV\n\nAll ideas, in so far as they are related to God, are true; that is to\nsay, are adequate, and therefore, (by the general definition of the\nEmotions), God is free from passions. Again, God can neither pass to a\ngreater nor to a less perfection, and therefore He cannot be affected\nwith any emotion of joy or sorrow.\n\nHe who loves God cannot strive that God should love him in return. If a\nman were to strive after this, he would desire that God, whom he loves,\nshould not be God, and consequently he would desire to be sad, which is\nabsurd.\n\n\nV\n\nGod is absolutely infinite, that is to say, the nature of God delights\nin infinite perfection accompanied with the idea of Himself, that is to\nsay, with the idea of Himself as cause, and this is what we have called\nintellectual love. God loves Himself with an infinite intellectual love.\n\nThe intellectual love of the mind towards God is the very love with\nwhich He loves Himself, not in so far as He is infinite, but in so far\nas He can be manifested through the essence of the human mind,\nconsidered under the form of eternity; that is to say, the intellectual\nlove of the mind towards God is part of the infinite love with which God\nloves Himself.\n\nHence it follows that God, in so far as He loves Himself, loves men, and\nconsequently that the love of God towards men and the intellectual love\nof the mind towards God are one and the same thing.\n\nHence it follows that God, in so far as He loves Himself, loves men, and\nconsequently that the love of the mind towards God are one and the same\nthing.\n\nHence we clearly understand that our salvation, or blessedness, or\nliberty consists in a constant and eternal love towards God, or in the\nlove of God towards men. This love or blessedness is called Glory in the\nsacred writings, and not without reason. For whether it be related to\nGod or to the mind, it may properly be called repose of mind, which is,\nin truth, not distinguished from glory. For in so far as it is related\nto God, it is joy (granting that it is allowable to use this word),\naccompanied with the idea of Himself, and it is the same thing when it\nis related to the mind.\n\nAgain, since the essence of our mind consists in knowledge alone, whose\nbeginning and foundation is God, it is clear to us in what manner and by\nwhat method our mind, with regard both to essence and existence, follows\nfrom the divine nature, and continually depends upon God. I thought it\nworth while for me to notice this here, in order that I might show, by\nthis example, what that knowledge of individual objects which I have\ncalled intuitive or of the third kind is able to do, and how much more\npotent it is than the universal knowledge, which I have called knowledge\nof the second kind. For although I have shown generally that all things,\nand consequently also the human mind, depend upon God both with regard\nto existence and essence, yet that demonstration, although legitimate,\nand placed beyond the possibility of a doubt, does not, nevertheless, so\naffect our mind as a proof from the essence itself of any individual\nobject which we say depends upon God. The more we understand individual\nobjects, the more we understand God.\n\n\n_The Eternity of the Mind_\n\nI\n\nThe mind does not express the actual existence of its body, nor does it\nconceive as actual the modifications of the body, except while the body\nexists, and consequently it conceives no body as actually existing\nexcept while its own body exists. It can therefore imagine nothing, nor\ncan it recollect anything that is past, except while the body exists.\n\nAn imagination is an idea by which the mind contemplates any object as\npresent. This idea nevertheless indicates the present constitution of\nthe human body rather than the nature of the external object. An\nemotion, therefore (by the general definition of the Emotions), is an\nimagination in so far as it indicates the present constitution of the\nbody, and therefore the mind, only so long as the body exists, is\nsubject to emotions which are related to passions.\n\nHence it follows that no love except intellectual love is eternal.\n\nIf we look at the common opinion of men, we shall see that they are\nindeed conscious of the eternity of their minds, but they confound it\nwith duration, and attribute it to imagination or memory, which they\nbelieve remain after death.\n\nGod is not only the cause of the existence of this or that human body,\nbut also of its essence, which therefore must necessarily be conceived\nthrough the essence of God itself and by a certain eternal necessity.\nThis conception, moreover, must necessarily exist in God. In God there\nnecessarily exists an idea which expresses the essence of this or that\nhuman body under the form of eternity.\n\nIn God there necessarily exists a conception or idea which expresses the\nessence of the human body. This conception or idea is therefore\nnecessarily something which pertains to the essence of the human mind.\nBut we ascribe to the human mind no duration which can be limited by\ntime, unless in so far as it expresses the actual existence of the body,\nwhich is manifested through duration, and which can be limited by time,\nthat is to say, we cannot ascribe duration to the mind except while the\nbody exists.\n\nBut, nevertheless, since this something is that which is conceived by a\ncertain eternal necessity through the essence itself of God, this\nsomething which pertains to the essence of the mind will necessarily be\neternal.\n\nThis idea which expresses the essence of the body under the form of\neternity is, as we have said, a certain mode of thought which pertains\nto the essence of the mind, and is necessarily eternal. It is\nimpossible, nevertheless, that we should recollect that we existed\nbefore the body, because there are no traces of any such existence in\nthe body, and also because eternity cannot be defined by time, or have\nany relationship to it. Nevertheless we feel and know by experience that\nwe are eternal. For the mind is no less sensible of those things which\nit conceives through intelligence than of those which it remembers, for\ndemonstrations are the eyes of the mind by which it sees and observes\nthings.\n\nAlthough, therefore, we do not recollect that we existed before the\nbody, we feel that our mind, in so far as it involves the essence of the\nbody under the form of eternity, is eternal, and that this existence of\nthe mind cannot be limited by time nor manifested through duration. Only\nin so far, therefore, as it involves the actual existence of the body\ncan the mind be said to possess duration, and its existence be limited\nby a fixed time, and so far only has it the power of determining the\nexistence of things in time, and of conceiving them under the form of\nduration.\n\n\nII\n\nIn so far as the mind conceives the present existence of its body does\nit conceive duration which can be determined in time, and so far only\nhas it the power of conceiving things in relation to time. But eternity\ncannot be manifested through duration, therefore the mind so far has not\nthe power of conceiving things under the form of eternity: but because\nit is the nature of reason to conceive things under the form of\neternity, and because it also pertains to the nature of the mind to\nconceive the essence of the body under the form of eternity, and\nexcepting these two things nothing else pertains to the nature of the\nmind, therefore this power of conceiving things under the form of\neternity does not pertain to the mind except in so far as it conceives\nthe essence of the body under the form of eternity.\n\nThings are conceived by us as actual in two ways; either in so far as we\nconceive them to exist with relation to a fixed time and place, or in so\nfar as we conceive them to be contained in God, and to follow from the\nnecessity of the divine nature. But those things which are conceived in\nthis second way as true or real we conceive under the form of eternity,\nand their ideas involve the eternal and infinite essence of God.\n\nThe mind conceives nothing under the form of eternity, unless in so far\nas it conceives the essence of its body under the form of eternity, that\nis to say, unless in so far as it is eternal. Therefore in so far as the\nmind is eternal it has a knowledge of God, which is necessarily\nadequate, and therefore in so far as it is eternal it is fitted to know\nall those things which can follow from this knowledge of God, that is to\nsay, it is fitted to know things by the third kind of knowledge of\nwhich, in so far as the mind is eternal, it is the adequate or formal\ncause.\n\nAs each person therefore becomes stronger in this kind of knowledge, the\nmore is he conscious of himself and of God; that is to say, the more\nperfect and the happier he is, a truth which will still more clearly\nappear from what follows. Here, however, it is to be observed, that\nalthough we are now certain that the mind is eternal in so far as it\nconceives things under the form of eternity, yet, in order that what we\nwish to prove may be more easily explained and better understood, we\nshall consider the mind, as we have hitherto done, as if it had just\nbegun to be, and had just begun to understand things under the form of\neternity. This we can do without any risk of error, provided only we are\ncareful to conclude nothing except from clear premises.\n\nThe third kind of knowledge is eternal, and therefore the love which\nsprings from it is necessarily eternal.\n\nAlthough this love to God has no beginning, it nevertheless has all the\nperfections of love, just as if it had originated. Nor is there here any\ndifference, excepting that the mind has eternally possessed these same\nperfections which we imagined as now accruing to it, and has possessed\nthem with the accompanying idea of God as the eternal cause. And if joy\nconsist in the passage to a greater perfection, blessedness must indeed\nconsist in this, that the mind is endowed with perfection itself.\n\n\nIII\n\nThe essence of the mind consists in knowledge. The more things,\ntherefore, the mind knows by the second and third kinds of knowledge,\nthe greater is that part which abides and consequently the greater is\nthat part which is not touched by emotions which are contrary to our\nnature, that is to say, which are evil. The more things, therefore, the\nmind understands by the second and third kinds of knowledge, the greater\nis that part which remains unharmed, and the less consequently does it\nsuffer from the emotions.\n\nWe are thus enabled to understand that death is by so much the less\ninjurious to us as the clear and distinct knowledge of the mind is\ngreater, and consequently as the mind loves God more. Again, since from\nthe third kind of knowledge there arises the highest possible peace, it\nfollows that it is possible for the human mind to be of such a nature\nthat that part of it which we have shown perishes with its body, in\ncomparison with the part of it which remains, is of no consequence. But\nmore fully upon this subject presently.\n\nHe who possesses a body fitted for doing many things is least of all\nagitated by those emotions which are evil, that is to say, by emotions\nwhich are contrary to our nature, and therefore he possesses the power\nof arranging and connecting the modifications of the body according to\nthe order of the intellect, and consequently of causing all the\nmodifications of the body to be related to the idea of God; in\nconsequence of which he is affected with a love to God, which must\noccupy or form the greatest part of his mind, and therefore he\npossesses a mind of which the greatest part is eternal.\n\nInasmuch as human bodies are fit for many things, we cannot doubt the\npossibility of their possessing such a nature that they may be related\nto minds which have a large knowledge of themselves and of God, and\nwhose greatest or principal part is eternal, so that they scarcely fear\ndeath. To understand this more clearly, it is to be here considered that\nwe live in constant change, and that according as we change for the\nbetter or the worse we are called happy or unhappy. For he who passes\nfrom infancy or childhood to death is called unhappy, and, on the other\nhand, we consider ourselves happy if we can pass through the whole\nperiod of life with a sound mind in a sound body. Moreover, he who, like\nan infant or child, possesses a body fit for very few things, and,\nalmost altogether dependent on external causes, has a mind which,\nconsidered in itself alone, is almost entirely unconscious of itself, of\nGod, and of objects. On the other hand, he who possesses a body fit for\nmany things possesses a mind which, considered in itself alone, is\nlargely conscious of itself, of God, and of objects. In this life,\ntherefore, it is our chief endeavor to change the body of infancy, so\nfar as its nature permits and is conducive thereto, into another body\nwhich is fitted for many things, and which is related to a mind\nconscious as much as possible of itself, of God, and of objects; so that\neverything which is related to its memory or imagination, in comparison\nwith the intellect is scarcely of any moment, as I have already said.\n\nThe more perfect a thing is, the more reality it possesses, and\nconsequently the more it acts and the less it suffers. Inversely also it\nmay be demonstrated in the same way that the more a thing acts the more\nperfect it is. Hence it follows that that part of the mind which abides,\nwhether great or small, is more perfect than the other part. For the\npart of the mind which is eternal is the intellect, through which alone\nwe are said to act, but that part which, as we have shown, perishes, is\nthe imagination itself, through which alone we are said to suffer.\nTherefore that part which abides, whether great or small, is more\nperfect than the latter.\n\nThese are the things I proposed to prove concerning the mind, in so far\nas it is considered without relation to the existence of the body, and\nfrom these, and other propositions, it is evident that our mind, in so\nfar as it understands, is an eternal mode of thought, which is\ndetermined by another eternal mode of thought, and this again by\nanother, and so on _ad infinitum_, so that all taken together form the\neternal and infinite intellect of God.\n\n\n_Conclusion_\n\nThe primary and sole foundation of virtue or of the proper conduct of\nlife is to seek our own profit. But in order to determine what reason\nprescribes as profitable, we had no regard to the eternity of the mind.\nTherefore, although we were at that time ignorant that the mind is\neternal, we considered as of primary importance those things which we\nhave shown are related to strength of mind and generosity; and\ntherefore, even if we were now ignorant of the eternity of the mind, we\nshould consider those commands of reason as of primary importance.\n\nThe creed of the multitude seems to be different from this; for most\npersons seem to believe that they are free in so far as it is allowed\nthem to obey their lusts, and that they give up a portion of their\nrights, in so far as they are bound to live according to the commands of\ndivine law. Piety, therefore, and religion,[42] and absolutely all those\nthings that are related to greatness of soul, they believe to be burdens\nwhich they hope to be able to lay aside after death; hoping also to\nreceive some reward for their bondage, that is to say, for _their_ piety\nand religion. It is not merely this hope, however, but also and chiefly\nfear of dreadful punishments after death, by which they are induced to\nlive according to the commands of divine law, that is to say, as far as\ntheir feebleness and impotent mind will permit; and if this hope and\nfear were not present to them, but if they, on the contrary, believed\nthat minds perish with the body, and that there is no prolongation of\nlife for miserable creatures exhausted with the burden of their piety,\nthey would return to ways of their own liking. They would prefer to let\neverything be controlled by their own passions, and to obey fortune\nrather than themselves.\n\nThis seems to me as absurd as if a man, because he does not believe that\nhe will be able to feed his body with good food to all eternity, should\ndesire to satiate himself with poisonous and deadly drugs; or as if,\nbecause he sees that the mind is not eternal or immortal, he should\ntherefore prefer to be mad and to live without reason--absurdities so\ngreat that they scarcely deserve to be repeated.\n\nBlessedness consists in love towards God, which arises from the third\nkind of knowledge, and this love, therefore, must be related to the mind\nin so far as it acts. Blessedness, therefore, is virtue itself. Again,\nthe more the mind delights in this divine love or blessedness, the more\nit understands, that is to say, the greater is the power it has over its\nemotions and the less it suffers from emotions which are evil.\nTherefore, it is because the mind delights in this divine love or\nblessedness that it possesses the power of restraining the lusts; and\nbecause the power of man to restrain the emotions is in the intellect\nalone, no one, therefore, delights in blessedness because he has\nrestrained his emotions, but, on the contrary, the power of restraining\nhis lusts springs from blessedness itself.\n\nI have finished everything I wished to explain concerning the power of\nthe mind over the emotions and concerning its liberty. From what has\nbeen said we see what is the strength of the wise man, and how much he\nsurpasses the ignorant who is driven forward by lust alone. For the\nignorant man is not only agitated by external causes in many ways, and\nnever enjoys true peace of soul, but lives also ignorant, as it were,\nboth of God and of things, and as soon as he ceases to suffer ceases\nalso to be. On the other hand, the wise man, in so far as he is\nconsidered as such, is scarcely ever moved in his mind, but, being\nconscious by a certain eternal necessity of himself, of God, and of\nthings, never ceases to be, and always enjoys true peace of soul.\n\nIf the way which, as I have shown, leads hither seem very difficult, it\ncan nevertheless be found. It must indeed be difficult since it is so\nseldom discovered; for if salvation lay ready to hand and could be\ndiscovered without great labor, how could it be possible that it should\nbe neglected almost by everybody? But all noble things are as difficult\nas they are rare.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[42] Everything which we desire and do, of which we are the cause in so\nfar as we possess an idea of God, or in so far as we know God, I refer\nto _Religion_. The desire of doing well which is born in us, because we\nlive according to the guidance of reason, I call _Piety_.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX\n\n\nSpinoza's _Ethics_, demonstrated in geometrical order, consists of five\nparts; from these parts the following selections have been taken:\n\nPart I. _Of God_\n        Definitions, Axioms, and the Appendix.\n        Propositions: 11; 15-18; 26; 27; 29; 33.\n\nPart II. _Of the Nature and Origin of the Mind_\n        Preface, Definitions, and Axioms.\n        Propositions: 1; 4-7; 11-13; 15-18; 24-26;\n        28-32; 35; 36; 38-49.\n\nPart III. _Of the Origin and Nature of the Emotions_\n        Preface, Definitions, and Postulates; Definitions\n        of the Emotions.\n        Propositions: 1; 2; 4; 6; 9; 11; 14; 16;\n        18; 25; 27-32; 40; 41; 43-46; 48-51; 56; 57.\n\nPart IV. _Of Human Bondage or Of the Strength of the\n          Emotions_\n        Preface, Definitions, Axioms, and the Appendix.\n        Propositions: 3-9; 11-27; 38; 39; 41-47;\n        50-54; 56-58.\n\nPart V. _Of the Power of the Intellect or Of Human\n          Liberty_\n        Preface and Axioms.\n        Propositions: 1-28; 30-42.\n\n\nTHE END\n\n  +--------------------------------------------------------------+\n  | Transcriber's Notes                                          |\n  |                                                              |\n  | Page vii: \"affectiones\" _sic_                                |\n  | Page xxvi: \"villified\" amended to \"vilified\"                 |\n  | Page xxvii: \"chose\" amended to \"choose\" (twice);             |\n  |   \"forego\" _sic_                                             |\n  | Page xxxvi: \"antedeluvian\" amended to \"antediluvian\"         |\n  | Page lix: \"goverance\" amended to \"governance\"                |\n  | Page 1: \"oursleves\" amended to \"ourselves\"                   |\n  | Page 6: \"superstitition\" amended to \"superstition\"           |\n  | Page 9: \"conprehension\" amended to \"comprehension\"           |\n  | Page 26: \"chose\" amended to \"choose\"                         |\n  | Page 28: \"interpretating\" amended to \"interpreting\"          |\n  | Page 45: \"phophet\" amended to \"prophet\"                      |\n  | Page 51: \"came\" amended to \"come\"                            |\n  | Page 69: \"patriachs\" amended to \"patriarchs\"                 |\n  | Page 84: \"refer\" amended to \"prefer\"                         |\n  | Page 135: \"appetities\" amended to \"appetites\"                |\n  | Page 204: \"thy\" amended to \"they\" and \"thir\" amended to      |\n  |   \"their\"                                                    |\n  | Page 229: \"Explanations\" amended to \"Explanation\"            |\n  | Page 276: \"others\" amended to \"other\"                        |\n  | Page 284: \"mutitude\" amended to \"multitude\"                  |\n  | Page 362: \"propositon\" amended to \"proposition\"              |\n  |                                                              |\n  | Abbreviations in footnotes and references have been          |\n  | standardized.                                                |\n  |                                                              |\n  | Accents and hyphenation have generally been standardised.    |\n  +--------------------------------------------------------------+","title":"The Philosophy of Spinoza","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":120422}