Part 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(1) Let us shortly come to our conclusion, and again repeat that we need have no fear of confusing with true ideas that which is only a fiction. (2) As for the first sort of fiction of which we have already spoken, when a thing is clearly conceived, we saw that if the existence of a that thing is in itself an eternal truth fiction can have no part in it; but if the existence of the conceived be not an eternal truth, we have only to be careful such existence be compared to the thing's essence, and to consider the order of nature. (64:3) As for the second sort of fiction, which we stated to be the result of simultaneously directing the attention, without the assent of the intellect, to different confused ideas representing different things and actions existing in nature, we have seen that an absolutely simple thing cannot be feigned, but must be understood, and that a complex thing is in the same case if we regard separately the simple parts whereof it is composed; we shall not even be able to hypothesize any untrue action concerning such objects, for we shall be obliged to consider at the same time the causes and manner of such action.

(1) These matters being thus understood, let us pass on to consider the false idea, observing the objects with which it is concerned, and the means of guarding ourselves from falling into false perceptions. (2) Neither of these tasks will present much difficulty, after our inquiry concerning fictitious ideas. (3) The false idea only differs from the fictitious idea in the fact of implying a mental assent--that is, as we have already remarked, while the representations are occurring, there are no causes present to us, wherefrom, as in fiction, we can conclude that such representations do not arise from external objects: in fact, it is much the same as dreaming with our eyes open, or while awake. (67:4) Thus, a false idea is concerned with, or (to speak more correctly) is attributable to, the existence of a thing whereof the essence is known, or the essence itself, in the same way as a fictitious idea.

(1) If attributable to the existence of the thing, it is corrected in the same way as a fictitious idea under similar circumstances. (2) If attributable to the essence, it is likewise corrected in the same way as a fictitious idea. (67:3) For if the nature of the thing known implies necessary existence, we cannot possible be in error with regard to its existence; but if the nature of the thing be not an eternal truth, like its essence, but contrariwise the necessity or impossibility of its existence depends on external causes, then we must follow the same course as we adopted in the of fiction, for it is corrected in the same manner.

(1) As for false ideas concerned with essences, or even with actions, such perceptions are necessarily always confused, being compounded of different confused perceptions of things existing in nature, as, for instance, when men are persuaded that deities are present in woods, in statues, in brute beasts, and the like; that there are bodies which, by their composition alone, give rise to intellect; that corpses reason, walk about, and speak; that God is deceived, and so on. (68:2) But ideas which are clear and distinct can never be false: for ideas of things clearly and distinctly conceived are either very simple themselves, or are compounded from very simple ideas, that is, are deduced therefrom. (3) The impossibility of a very simple idea being false is evident to everyone who understands the nature of truth or understanding and of falsehood.

(1) As regards that which constitutes the reality of truth, it is certain that a true idea is distinguished from a false one, not so much by its extrinsic object as by its intrinsic nature. (2) If an architect conceives a building properly constructed, though such a building may never have existed, and amy never exist, nevertheless the idea is true; and the idea remains the same, whether it be put into execution or not. (69:3) On the other hand, if anyone asserts, for instance, that Peter exists, without knowing whether Peter really exists or not, the assertion, as far as its asserter is concerned, is false, or not true, even though Peter actually does exist. (4) The assertion that Peter exists is true only with regard to him who knows for certain that Peter does exist.

(1) Whence it follows that there is in ideas something real, whereby the true are distinguished from the false. (2) This reality must be inquired into, if we are to find the best standard of truth (we have said that we ought to determine our thoughts by the given standard of a true idea, and that method is reflective knowledge), and to know the properties of our understanding. (70:3) Neither must we say that the difference between true and false arises from the fact, that true knowledge consists in knowing things through their primary causes, wherein it is totally different from false knowledge, as I have just explained it: for thought is said to be true, if it involves subjectively the essence of any principle which has no cause, and is known through itself and in itself.

(1) Wherefore the reality (forma) of true thought must exist in the thought itself, without reference to other thoughts; it does not acknowledge the object as its cause, but must depend on the actual power and nature of the understanding. (2) For, if we suppose that the understanding has perceived some new entity which has never existed, as some conceive the understanding of God before He created thing (a perception which certainly could not arise any object), and has legitimately deduced other thoughts from said perception, all such thoughts would be true, without being determined by any external object; they would depend solely on the power and nature of the understanding. (71:3) Thus, that which constitutes the reality of a true thought must be sought in the thought itself, and deduced from the nature of the understanding.

(1) In order to pursue our investigation, let us confront ourselves with some true idea, whose object we know for certain to be dependent on our power of thinking, and to have nothing corresponding to it in nature. (2) With an idea of this kind before us, we shall, as appears from what has just been said, be more easily able to carry on the research we have in view. (72:3) For instance, in order to form the conception of a sphere, I invent a cause at my pleasure--namely, a semicircle revolving round its center, and thus producing a sphere. (4) This is indisputably a true idea; and, although we know that no sphere in nature has ever actually been so formed, the perception remains true, and is the easiest manner of conceiving a sphere. (72:5) We must observe that this perception asserts the rotation of a semicircle--which assertion would be false, if it were not associated with the conception of a sphere, or of a cause determining a motion of the kind, or absolutely, if the assertion were isolated. (6) The mind would then only tend to the affirmation of the sole motion of a semicircle, which is not contained in the conception of a semicircle, and does not arise from the conception of any cause capable of producing such motion.

(72:7) Thus falsity consists only in this, that something is affirmed of a thing, which is not contained in the conception we have formed of that thing, as motion or rest of a semicircle. (8) Whence it follows that simple ideas cannot be other than true--e.g., the simple idea of a semicircle, of motion, of rest, of quantity, &c.

(72:9) Whatsoever affirmation such ideas contain is equal to the concept formed, and does not extend further. (10) Wherefore we form as many simple ideas as we please, without any fear of error.

(1) It only remains for us to inquire by what power our mind can form true ideas, and how far such power extends. (2) It is certain that such power cannot extend itself infinitely. (3) For when we affirm somewhat of a thing, which is not contained in the concept we have formed of that thing, such an affirmation shows a defect of our perception, or that we have formed fragmentary or mutilated ideas. (4) Thus we have seen that the notion of a semicircle is false when it is isolated in the mind, but true when it is associated with the concept of a sphere, or of some cause determining such a motion. (73:5) But if it be the nature of a thinking being, as seems, prima facie, to be the case, to form true or adequate thoughts, it is plain that inadequate ideas arise in us only because we are parts of a thinking being, whose thoughts--some in their entirety, others in fragments only--constitute our mind.

(1) But there is another point to be considered, which was not worth raising in the case of fiction, but which give rise to complete deception--namely, that certain things presented to the imagination also exist in the understanding--in other words, are conceived clearly and distinctly. (2) Hence, so long as we do not separate that which is distinct from that which is confused, certainty, or the true idea, becomes mixed with indistinct ideas. (3) For instance, certain Stoics heard, perhaps, the term "soul," and also that the soul is immortal, yet imagined it only confusedly; they imaged, also, and understood that very subtle bodies penetrate all others, and are penetrated by none. (74:4) By combining these ideas, and being at the same time certain of the truth of the axiom, they forthwith became convinced that the mind consists of very subtle bodies; that these very subtle bodies cannot be divided &c.

(1) But we are freed from mistakes of this kind, so long as we endeavor to examine all our perceptions by the standard of the given true idea. (2) We must take care, as has been said, to separate such perceptions from all those which arise from hearsay or unclassified experience. (3) Moreover, such mistakes arise from things being conceived too much in the abstract; for it is sufficiently self-evident that what I conceive as in its true object I cannot apply to anything else. (75:4) Lastly, they arise from a want of understanding of the primary elements of nature as a whole; whence we proceed without due order, and confound nature with abstract rules, which, although they be true enough in their sphere, yet, when misapplied, confound themselves, and pervert the order of nature. (5) However, if we proceed with as little abstraction as possible, and begin from primary elements--that is, from the source and origin of nature, as far back as we can reach,--we need not fear any deceptions of this kind.

(1) As far as the knowledge of the origin of nature is concerned, there is no danger of our confounding it with abstractions. (2) For when a thing is conceived in the abstract, as are all universal notions, the said universal notions are always more extensive in the mind than the number of individuals forming their contents really existing in nature. (3) Again, there are many things in nature, the difference between which is so slight as to be hardly perceptible to the understanding; so that it may readily happen that such things are confounded together, if they be conceived abstractedly. (4) But since the first principle of nature cannot (as we shall see hereafter) be conceived abstractedly or universally, and cannot extend further in the understanding than it does in reality, and has no likeness to mutable things, no confusion need be feared in respect to the idea of it, provided (as before shown) that we possess a standard of truth. (5) This is, in fact, a being single and infinite ; in other words, it is the sum total of being, beyond which there is no being found.

(1) Thus far we have treated of the false idea. We have now to investigate the doubtful idea--that is, to inquire what can cause us to doubt, and how doubt may be removed. (2) I speak of real doubt existing in the mind, not of such doubt as we see exemplified when a man says that he doubts, though his mind does not really hesitate. (77:3) The cure of the latter does not fall within the province of method, it belongs rather to inquiries concerning obstinacy and its cure.

(1) Real doubt is never produced in the mind by the thing doubted of. (2) In other words, if there were only one idea in the mind, whether that idea were true or false, there would be no doubt or certainty present, only a certain sensation. (3) For an idea is in itself nothing else than a certain sensation. (4) But doubt will arise through another idea, not clear and distinct enough for us to be able to draw any certain conclusions with regard to the matter under consideration; that is, the idea which causes us to doubt is not clear and distinct. (5) To take an example. (78:6) Supposing that a man has never reflected, taught by experience or by any other means, that our senses sometimes deceive us, he will never doubt whether the sun be greater or less than it appears. (7) Thus rustics are generally astonished when they hear that the sun is much larger than the earth. (8) But from reflection on the deceitfulness of the senses doubt arises, and if, after doubting, we acquire a true knowledge of the senses, and how things at a distance are represented through their instrumentality, doubt is again removed.

(1) Hence we cannot cast doubt on true ideas by the supposition that there is a deceitful Deity, who leads us astray even in what is most certain. (2) We can only hold such an hypothesis so long as we have no clear and distinct idea--in other words, until we reflect the knowledge which we have of the first principle of all things, and find that which teaches us that God is not a deceiver, and until we know this with the same certainty as we know from reflecting on the are equal to two right angles. (3) But if we have a knowledge of God equal to that which we have of a triangle, all doubt is removed. (79:4) In the same way as we can arrive at the said knowledge of a triangle, though not absolutely sure that there is not some arch-deceiver leading us astray, so can we come to a like knowledge of God under the like condition, and when we have attained to it, it is sufficient, as I said before, to remove every doubt which we can possess concerning clear and distinct ideas.

(1) Thus, if a man proceeded with our investigations in due order, inquiring first into those things which should first be inquired into, never passing over a link in the chain of association, and with knowledge how to define his questions before seeking to answer them, he will never have any ideas save such as are very certain, or, in other words, clear and distinct; for doubt is only a suspension of the spirit concerning some affirmation or negation which it would pronounce upon unhesitatingly if it were not in ignorance of something, without which the knowledge of the matter in hand must needs be imperfect. (2) We may, therefore, conclude that doubt always proceeds from want of due order in investigation.

(1) These are the points I promised to discuss in the first part of my treatise on method. (2) However, in order not to omit anything which can conduce to the knowledge of the understanding and its faculties, I will add a few words on the subject of memory and forgetfulness.

(81:3) The point most worthy of attention is, that memory is strengthened both with and without the aid of the understanding. (4) For the more intelligible a thing is, the more easily is it remembered, and the less intelligible it is, the more easily do we forget it. (5) For instance, a number of unconnected words is much more difficult to remember than the same number in the form of a narration.

(1) The memory is also strengthened without the aid of the understanding by means of the power wherewith the imagination or the sense called common, is affected by some particular physical object. (2) I say particular, for the imagination is only affected by particular objects. (3) If we read, for instance, a single romantic comedy, we shall remember it very well, so long as we do not read many others of the same kind, for it will reign alone in the memory (4) If, however, we read several others of the same kind, we shall think of them altogether, and easily confuse one with another. (82:5) I say also, physical. (6) For the imagination is only affected by physical objects. (7) As, then, the memory is strengthened both with and without the aid of the understanding, we may conclude that it is different from the understanding, and that in the latter considered in itself there is neither memory nor forgetfulness.