1642
MEDITATIONS ON THE FIRST PHILOSOPHY
IN WHICH THE EXISTENCE OF GOD, AND THE REAL DISTINCTION
OF MIND AND BODY, ARE DEMONSTRATED
by Rene Descartes
from
THE PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS OF DESCARTES IN TWO VOLUMES
RENDERED INTO ENGLISH BY ELIZABETH S. HALDANE, LL.D. AND G. R. T. ROSS, M.A.,
D.Phil.
VOLUME I
Cambridge at the University Press
1911
(The pagination of this edition is retained)
Table of Contents
PREFATORY NOTE TO THE MEDITATIONS.
The first edition of the ' Meditations ' was published in Latin by
Michael Soly of Paris 'at the Sign of the Phoenix' in 1641 cum
Privilegio et Approbations Doctorum. The Royal ' privilege ' was
indeed given, but the ' approbation ' seems to have been of a most
indefinite kind. The reason of the book being published in France
and not in Holland, where Descartes was living in a charming
country house at Endegeest near Leiden, was apparently his fear
that the Dutch ministers might in some way lay hold of it. His
friend, Pere Mersenne, took charge of its publication in Paris and
wrote to him about any difficulties that occurred in the course of
its progress through the press. The second edition was however
published at Amsterdam in 1642 by Louis Elzevir, and this edition
was accompanied by the now completed 'Objections and Replies.' 1
The edition from which the present translation is made is the second
just mentioned, and is that adopted by MM. Adam and Tannery as
the more correct, for reasons that they state in detail in the preface
to their edition. The work was translated into French by the
Due de Luynes in 1642 and Descartes considered the translation
so excellent that he had it published some years later. Clerselier,
to complete matters, had the ' Objections ' also published in French
with the 'Replies,' and this, like the other, was subject to Descartes'
revision and correction. This revision renders the French edition
specially valuable. Where it seems desirable an alternative reading
from the French is given in square brackets.
E. S. H.
1 For convenience sake the 'Objections and Replies' are published in the
second volume of this edition.
TO THE MOST WISE AND ILLUSTRIOUS THE
DEAN AND DOCTORS OF THE SACRED
FACULTY OF THEOLOGY IN PARIS.
The motive which induces me to present to you this Treatise is
so excellent, and, when you become acquainted with its design,
I am convinced that you will also have so excellent a motive for
taking it under your protection, that I feel that I cannot do better,
in order to render it in some sort acceptable to you, than in a few
words to state what I have set myself to do.
I have always considered that the two questions respecting God
and the Soul were the chief of those that ought to be demonstrated
by philosophical rather than theological argument. For although
it is quite enough for us faithful ones to accept by means of faith
the fact that the human soul does not perish with the body, and
that God exists, it certainly does not seem possible ever to persuade
infidels of any religion, indeed, we may almost say, of any moral
virtue, unless, to begin with, we prove these two facts by means of
the natural reason. And inasmuch as often in this life greater
rewards are offered for vice than for virtue, few people would prefer
the right to the useful, were they restrained neither by the fear
of God nor the expectation of another life ; and although it is
absolutely true that we must believe "that there is a God, because
we are so taught in the Holy Scriptures, and, on the other hand,
that we must believe the Holy Scriptures because they come from
God (the reason of this is, that, faith being a gift of God, He who
gives the grace to cause us to believe other things can likewise give
it to cause us to believe that He exists), we nevertheless could not
place this argument before infidels, who might accuse us of reasoning
in a circle. And, in truth, I have noticed that you, along with all
the theologians, did not only affirm that the existence of God may
be proved by the natural reason, but also that it may be inferred
134 Dedication
from the Holy Scriptures, that knowledge about Him is much clearer
than that which we have of many created things, and, as a matter
of fact, is so easy to acquire, that those who have it not are
culpable in their ignorance. This indeed appears from the Wisdom
of Solomon, chapter xiii., where is is said ' Howbeit they are not to
be excused ; for if their understanding was so great that they could
discern the world and the creatures, why did they not rather find out
the Lord thereof V and in Romans, chapter i., it is said that they
are ' without excuse ' ; and again in the same place, by these words
' that which may be known of God is manifest in them,' it seems as
though we were shown that all that which can be known of God
may be made manifest by means which are not derived from
anywhere but from ourselves, and from the simple consideration
of the nature of our minds. Hence I thought it not beside my
purpose to inquire how this is so, and how God may be more easily
and certainly known than the things of the world.
And as regards the soul, although many have considered that it
is not easy to know its nature, and some have even dared to say
that human reasons have convinced us that it would perish with
the body, and that faith alone could believe the contrary, neverthe-
less, inasmuch as the Lateran Council held under Leo X (in the
eighth session) condemns these tenets, and as Leo expressly ordains
Christian philosophers to refute their arguments and to employ all
their powers in making known the truth, I have ventured in this
treatise to undertake the same task.
More than that, I am aware that the principal reason which
causes many impious persons not to desire to believe that there is a
God, and that the human soul is distinct from the body, is that
they declare that hitherto no one has been able to demonstrate
these two facts ; and although I am not of their opinion but, on
the contrary, hold that the greater part of the reasons which have
been brought forward concerning these two questions by so many
great men are, when they are rightly understood, equal to so many
demonstrations, and that it is almost impossible to invent new ones,
it is yet in my opinion the case that nothing more useful can be
accomplished in philosophy than once for all to seek with care for
the best of these reasons, and to set them forth in so clear and
exact a manner, that it will henceforth be evident to everybody
that they are veritable demonstrations. And, finally, inasmuch as
it was desired that I should undertake this task by many who were
aware that 1 had cultivated a certain Method for the resolution of
Dedication 135
difficulties of every kind in the Sciences a method which it is true
is not novel, since there is nothing more ancient than the truth, but
of which they were aware that I had made use successfully enough
in other matters of difficulty I have thought that it was my duty
also to make trial of it in the present matter.
Now all that I could accomplish in the matter is contained in
this Treatise. Not that I have here drawn together all the different
reasons which might be brought forward to serve as proofs of this
subject : for that never seemed to be necessary excepting when
there was no one single proof that was certain. But I have treated
the first and principal ones in such a manner that I can venture to
bring them forward as very evident and very certain demonstrations.
And more than that, I will say that these proofs are such that I do
not think that there is any way open to the human mind by which
it can ever succeed in discovering better. For the importance of
the subject, and the glory of God to which all this relates, constrain
me to speak here somewhat more freely of myself than is my
habit. Nevertheless, whatever certainty and evidence I find in my
reasons, I cannot persuade myself that all the world is capable of
understanding them. Still, just as in Geometry there are many
demonstrations that have been left to us by Archimedes, by
Apollonius, by Pappus, and others, which are accepted by everyone
as perfectly certain and evident (because they clearly contain
nothing which, considered by itself, is not very easy to understand,
and as all through that which follows has an exact connection with,
and dependence on that which precedes), nevertheless, because they
are somewhat lengthy, and demand a mind wholly devoted to their
consideration, they are only taken in and understood by a very
limited number of persons. Similarly, although I judge that those
of which I here make use are equal to, or even surpass in certainty
and evidence, the demonstrations of Geometry, I yet apprehend that
they cannot be adequately understood by many, both because they
are also a little lengthy and dependent the one on the other, and
principally because they demand a mind wholly free of prejudices,
and one which can be easily detached from the affairs of the senses.
And, truth to say, there are not so many in the world who are fitted
for metaphysical speculations as there are for those of Geometry.
And more than that ; there is still this difference, that in Geometry,
since each one is persuaded that nothing must be advanced of which
there is not a certain demonstration, those who are not entirely
adepts more frequently err in approving what is false, in order to
136 Dedication
give the impression that they understand it, than in refuting the
true. But the case is different in philosophy where everyone
believes that all is problematical, and few give themselves to the
search after truth ; and the greater number, in their desire to
acquire a reputation for boldness of thought, arrogantly combat the
most important of truths 1 .
That is why, whatever force there may be in my reasonings,
seeing they belong to philosophy, I cannot hope that they will
have much effect on the minds of men, unless you extend to them
your protection. But the estimation in which your Company is
universally held is so great, and the name of Sorbonne carries with
it so much authority, that, next to the Sacred Councils, never has
such deference been paid to the judgment of any Body, not only in
what concerns the faith, but also in what regards human philo-
sophy as well : everyone indeed believes that it is not possible to
discover elsewhere more perspicacity and solidity, or more integrity
and wisdom in pronouncing judgment. For this reason I have no
doubt that if you deign to take the trouble in the first place of
correcting this work (for being conscious not only of my infirmity,
but also of my ignorance, I should not dare to state that it was free
from errors), and then, after adding to it these things that are
lacking to it, completing those which are imperfect, and yourselves
taking the trouble to give a more ample explanation of those things
which have need of it, or at least making me aware of the defects
so that I may apply myself to remedy them 1 when this is done
and when finally the reasonings by which I prove that there is
a God, and that the human soul differs from the body, shall be
carried to that point of perspicuity to which I am sure they can be
carried in order that they may be esteemed as perfectly exact
demonstrations, if you deign to authorise your approbation and to
render public testimony to their truth and certainty, I do not doubt,
I say, that henceforward all the errors and false opinions which
have ever existed regarding these two questions will soon be effaced
from the minds of men. For the truth itself will easily cause all
men of mind and learning to subscribe to your judgment ; and your
authority will cause the atheists, who are usually more arrogant
than learned or judicious, to rid themselves of their spirit of contra-
diction or lead them possibly themselves to defend the reasonings
which they find being received as demonstrations by all persons of
1 The French version is followed here.
Preface to the Reader 137
consideration, lest they appear not to understand them. And,
finally, all others will easily yield to such a mass of evidence, and
there will be none who dares to doubt the existence of God and the
real and true distinction between the human soul and the body. It
is for you now in your singular wisdom to judge of the importance of
the establishment of such beliefs [you who see the disorders produced
by the doubt of them] \ But it would not become me to say more
in consideration of the cause of God and religion to those who have
always been the most worthy supports of the Catholic Church.
PREFACE TO THE READER.
I have already slightly touched on these two questions of God
and the human soul in the Discourse on the Method of rightly
conducting the Reason and seeking truth in the Sciences, published
in French in the year 1637. Not that I had the design of treating
these with any thoroughness, but only so to speak in passing, and in
order to ascertain by the judgment of the readers how I should treat
them later on. For these questions have always appeared to me to
be of such importance that I judged it suitable to speak of them
more than once ; and the road which I follow in the explanation of
them is so little trodden, and so far removed from the ordinary
path, that I did not judge it to be expedient to set it forth at length
in French and in a Discourse which might be read by everyone, in
case the feebler minds should believe that it was permitted to them
to attempt to follow the same path.
But, having in this Discourse on Method begged all those who
have found in my writings somewhat deserving of censure to do me
the favour of acquainting me with the grounds of it, nothing worthy
of remark has been objected to in them beyond two matters : to these
two I wish here to reply in a few words before undertaking their more
detailed discussion.
The first objection is that it does not follow from the fact that
the human mind reflecting on itself does not perceive itself to be
other than a thing that thinks, that its nature or its essence
consists only in its being a thing that thinks, in the sense that this
word only excludes all other things which might also be supposed to
pertain to the nature of the soul. To this objection I reply that
it was not my intention in that place to exclude these in accordance
with the order that looks to the truth of the matter (as to which
1 When it is thought desirable to insert additional readings from the French
version this will be indicated by the use of square brackets.
138 Preface to the Reader
I was not then dealing), but only in accordance with the order of
my thought [perception] ; thus my meaning was that so far as
I was aware, I knew nothing clearly as belonging to my essence,
excepting that I was a thing that thinks, or a thing that has in
itself the faculty of thinking. But I shall show hereafter how from
the fact that I know no other thing which pertains to my essence, it
follows that there is no other thing which really does belong to it.
The second objection is that it does not follow from the fact
that I have in myself the idea of something more perfect than I am,
that this idea is more perfect than I, and much less that what is
represented by this idea exists. But I reply that in this term idea
there is here something equivocal, for it may either be taken
materially, as an act of my understanding, and in this sense it
cannot be said that it is more perfect than I ; or it may be taken
objectively, as the thing which is represented by this act, which,
although we do not suppose it to exist outside of my understanding,
may, none the less, be more perfect than I, because of its essence.
And in following out this Treatise I shall show more fully how,
from the sole fact that I have in myself the idea of a thing more
perfect than myself, it follows that this thing truly exists.
In addition to these two objections I have also seen two fairly
lengthy works on this subject, which, however, did not so much im-
pugn my reasonings as my conclusions, and this by arguments drawn
from the ordinary atheistic sources. But, because such arguments
cannot make any impression on the minds of those who really
understand my reasonings, and as the judgments of many are so
feeble and irrational that they very often allow themselves to be
persuaded by the opinions which they have first formed, however
false and far removed from reason they may be, rather than by a
true and solid but subsequently received refutation of these opinions,
I do not desire to reply here to their criticisms in case of being first
of all obliged to state them. I shall only say in general that all
that is said by the atheist against the existence of God, always
depends either on the fact that we ascribe to God affections which
are human, or that we attribute so much strength and wisdom to
our minds that we even have the presumption to desire to determine
and understand that which God can and ought to do. In this
way all that they allege will cause us no difficulty, provided only
we remember that we must consider our minds as things which are
finite and limited, and God as a Being who is incomprehensible and
infinite.
Preface to the Reader 139
Now that I have once for all recognised and acknowledged the
opinions of men, I at once begin to treat of God and the human
soul, and at the same time to treat of the whole of the First
Philosophy, without however expecting any praise from the vulgar
and without the hope that my book will have many readers. On
the contrary, I should never advise anyone to read it excepting
those who desire to meditate seriously with me, and who can detach
their minds from affairs of sense, and deliver themselves entirely
from every sort of prejudice. I know too well that such men exist
in a very small number. But for those who, without caring to
comprehend the order and connections of my reasonings, form their
criticisms on detached portions arbitrarily selected, as is the custom
with many, these, I say, will not obtain much profit from reading
this Treatise. And although they perhaps in several parts find
occasion of cavilling, they can for all their pains make no objection
which is urgent or deserving of reply.
And inasmuch as I make no promise to others to satisfy them
at once, and as I do not presume so much on my own powers as to
believe myself capable of foreseeing all that can cause difficulty to
anyone, I shall first of all set forth in these Meditations the very
considerations by which I persuade myself that I have reached a
certain and evident knowledge of the truth, in order to see if, by
the same reasons which persuaded me, I can also persuade others.
And, after that, I shall reply to the objections which have been
made to me by persons of genius and learning to whom I have sent
my Meditations for examination, before submitting them to the press.
For they have made so many objections and these so different, that
I venture to promise that it will be difficult for anyone to bring
to mind criticisms of any consequence which have not been already
touched upon. This is why I beg those who read these Meditations
to form no judgment upon them unless they have given themselves
the trouble to read all the objections as well as the replies which
I have made to them 1 .
1 Between the Praefatio ad Lectorem and the Synopsis, the Paris
Edition
(1st Edition) interpolates an Index which is not found in the Amsterdam
Edition (2nd Edition). Since Descartes did not reproduce it, he was doubtless
not its author. Mersenne probably composed it himself, adjusting it to the
paging of the first Edition.
(Note in Adam and Tannery's Edition.)
140 Synopsis
SYNOPSIS
OF THE SIX FOLLOWING MEDITATIONS.
In the first Meditation I set forth the reasons for which we may,
generally speaking, doubt about all things and especially about
material things, at least so long as we have no other foundations for"
the sciences than those which we have hitherto possessed. But
although the utility of a Doubt which is so general does not at first
appear, it is at the same time very great, inasmuch as it delivers us
from every kind of prejudice, and sets out for us a very simple way
by which the mind may detach itself from the senses ; and finally it
makes it impossible for us ever to doubt those things which we have
once discovered to be true.
In the second Meditation, mind, which making use of the liberty
which pertains to it, takes for granted that all those things of whose
existence it has the least doubt, are non-existent, recognises that it is
however absolutely impossible that it does not itself exist. This point
is likewise of the greatest moment, inasmuch as by this means a
distinction is easily drawn between the things which pertain to mind
that is to say to the intellectual nature and those which pertain to
body.
But because it may be that some expect from me in this place a
statement of the reasons establishing the immortality of the soul, I feel
that I should here make known to them that having aimed at writing
nothing in all this Treatise of which I do not possess very exact
demonstrations, I am obliged to follow a similar order to that made
use of by the geometers, which is to begin by putting forward as
premises all those things upon which the proposition that we seek
depends, before coming to any conclusion regarding it. Now the
first and principal matter which is requisite for thoroughly under-
standing the immortality of the soul is to form the clearest possible
conception of it, and one which will be entirely distinct from all
the conceptions which we may have of body ; and in this Medita-
tion this has been done. In addition to this it is requisite that we
may be assured that all the things which we conceive clearly and
distinctly are true in the very way in which we think them ; and
this could not be proved previously to the Fourth Meditation
Further we must have a distinct conception of corporeal nature,
which is given partly in this Second, and partly in the Fifth (did
Sixth Meditations. And finally it should conclude from all this,
that those things which we conceive clearly and distinctly as being
Synopsis 141
diverse substances, as we regard mind and body to be, are really
substances essentially distinct one from the other ; and this is the
conclusion of the Sixth Meditation. This is further confirmed in this
same Meditation by the fact that i cannot conceive of body excepting
in so far as it is divisible, while the mind cannot be conceived of
excepting as indivisible. For we are not able to conceive of the half
of a mind as we can do of the smallest of all bodies ; so that we see
that not only are their natures different but even in some respects
contrary to one another. I have not however dealt further with this
matter in this treatise, both because what I have said is sufficient to
show clearly enough that the extinction of the mind does not follow
from the corruption of the body, and also to give men the hope of
another life after death, as also because the premises from which the
immortality of the soul may be deduced depend on an elucidation of
a complete system of Physics. This would mean to establish in the
first place that all substances generally that is to say all things
which cannot exist without being created by God are in their nature
incorruptible, and that they can never cease to exist unless God, in
denying to them his concurrence, reduce them to nought; and secondly
that body, regarded generally, is a substance, which is the reason why
it also cannot perish, but that the human body, inasmuch as it differs
from other bodies, is composed only of a certain configuration of
members and of other similar accidents, while the human mind is not
similarly composed of any accidents, but is a pure substance. For
although all the accidents of mind be changed, although, for instance,
it think certain things, will others, perceive others, etc., despite all
this it does not emerge from these changes another mind: the human
body on the other hand becomes a different thing from the sole fact
that the figure or form of any of its portions is found to be changed.
From this it follows that the human body may indeed easily enough
perish, but the mind [or soul of man] (I make no distinction between
them) is owing to its nature immortal.
In the third Meditation it seems to me that I have explained at
sufficient length the principal argument of which I make use in order
to prove the existence of God. But none the less, because I did not
wish in that place to make use of any comparisons derived from
corporeal things, so as to withdraw as much as I could the minds of
readers from the senses, there may perhaps have remained many
obscurities which, however, will, I hope, be entirely removed by the
Replies which I have made to the Objections which have been set-before
me. Amongst others there is, for example, this one, 'How the idea in
142 Synopsis
us of a being supremely perfect possesses so much objective reality
{that is to say participates by representation in so many degrees of
being and perfection] that it necessarily proceeds from a cause which
is absolutely perfect. This is illustrated in these Replies by the
comparison of a very perfect machine, the idea of which is found in
the mind of some workman. For as the objective contrivance of this
idea must have some cause, i.e. either the science of the workman or
that of some other from whom he has received the idea, it is similarly
impossible that the idea of God which is in us should not have God
himself as its cause.
In the fourth Meditation it is shown that all these things which
we very clearly and distinctly perceive are true, and at the same time
it is explained in what the nature of error or falsity consists. This
must of necessity be known both for the confirmation of the pre-
ceding truths and for the better comprehension of those that follow.
(But it must meanwhile be remarked that I do not in any way there
treat of sin that is to say of the error which is committed in the
pursuit of good and evil, but only of that which arises in the deciding
between the true and the false. And I do not intend to speak of
matters pertaining to the Faith or the conduct of life, but only of
those which concern speculative truths, and which may be known by
the sole aid of the light of nature.)
In the fifth Meditation corporeal nature generally is explained,
and in addition to this the existence of God is demonstrated by a
new proof in which there may possibly be certain difficulties also, but
the solution of these will be seen in the Replies to the Objections.
And further I show in what sense it is true to say that the certainty
of geometrical demonstrations is itself dependent on the knowledge
of God.
Finally in the Sixth I distinguish the action of the under-
standing 1 from that of the imagination 2 ; the marks by which this
distinction is made are described. 1 here show that the mind of man
is really distinct from the body, and at the same time that the two
are so closely joined together that they form, so to speak, a single
thing. All the errors which proceed from the senses are then
surveyed, while the means of avoiding them are demonstrated, and
finally all the reasons from which we may deduce the existence of
material things are set forth. Not that I judge them to be very
useful in establishing that which they prove, to wit, that there is in
1 intellectio 2 imaginatio.
of the six following Meditations 143
truth a world, that men possess bodies, and other such things which
never have been doubted by anyone of sense; but because in
considering these closely we come to see that they are neither so
strong nor so evident as those arguments which lead us to the
knowledge of our mind and of God ; so that these last must be the
most certain and most evident facts which can fall within the
cognizance of the human mind. And this is the whole matter that
I have tried to prove in these Meditations, for which reason I here
omit to speak of many other questions with which I dealt incidentally
in this discussion.
MEDITATIONS
ON THE FIRST PHILOSOPHY
IN WHICH THE EXISTENCE OF GOD
AND THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN MIND
AND BODY ABE DEMONSTRATED 1 .
Meditation I.
Of the things which may be brought within the sphere of the
doubtful.
It is now some years since I detected how many were the false
beliefs that I had from my earliest youth admitted as true, and
how doubtful was everything I had since constructed on this basis ;
and from that time I was convinced that I must once for all
seriously undertake to rid myself of all the opinions which I had
formerly accepted, and commence to build anew from the foundation,
if I wanted to establish any firm and permanent structure in the
sciences. But as this enterprise appeared to be a very great one,
I waited until I had attained an age so mature that I could not
hope that at any later date I should be better fitted to execute my
design. This reason caused me to delay so long that I should feel
that I was doing wrong were I to occupy in deliberation the time
that yet remains to me for action. To-day, then, since very
opportunely for the plan I have in view I have delivered my mind
from every care [and am happily agitated by no passions] and
since I have procured for myself an assured leisure in a peaceable
retirement, I shall at last seriously and freely address myself to the
general upheaval of all my former opinions.
1 In place of this long title at the head of the page the first Edition had
immediately after the Synopsis, and on the same page 7, simply 'First Medi-
tation.' (Adam's Edition.)
Of the things as to which we may doubt 145
Now for this object it is not necessary that I should show that
all of these are false I shall perhaps never arrive at this end.
But inasmuch as reason already persuades me that I ought no less
carefully to withhold my assent from matters which are not entirely
certain and indubitable than from those which appear to me
manifestly to be false, if I am able to find in each one some reason
to doubt, this will suffice to justify my rejecting the whole. And
for that end it will not be requisite that I should examine each in
particular, which would be an endless undertaking ; for owing to
the fact that the destruction of the foundations of necessity brings
with it the downfall of the rest of the edifice, I shall only in the
first place attack those principles upon which all my former
opinions rested.
All that up to the present time I have accepted as most true and
certain 1 have learned either from the senses or through the senses ;
but it is sometimes proved to me that these senses are deceptive,
and it is wiser not to trust entirely to any thing by which we have
once been deceived.
But it may be that although the senses sometimes deceive us
concerning things which are hardly perceptible, or very far away,
there are yet many others to be met with as to which we cannot
reasonably have any doubt, although we recognise them by their
means. For example, there is the fact that I am here, seated by
the fire, attired in a dressing gown, having this paper in my hands
and other similar matters. And how could I deny that these hands
and this body are mine, were it not perhaps that I compare myself
to certain persons, devoid of sense, whose cerebella are so troubled
and clouded by the violent vapours of black bile, that they
constantly assure us that they think they are kings when they are
really quite poor, or that they are clothed in purple when they are
really without covering, or who imagine that they have an earthen-
ware head or are nothing but pumpkins or are made of glass. But
they are mad, and I should not be any the less insane were I to
follow examples so extravagant.
At the same time I must remember that I am a man, and
that consequently I am in the habit of sleeping, and in my dreams
representing to myself the same things or sometimes even less
probable things, than do those who are insane in their waking
moments. How often has it happened to me that in the night I
dreamt that I found myself in this particular place, that I was
dressed and seated near the fire, whilst in reality I was lying
146 Meditation I
undressed in bed ! At this moment it does indeed seem to me that
it is with eyes awake that I am looking at this paper ; that this
head which I move is not asleep, that it is deliberately and of set
purpose that I extend my hand and perceive it ; what happens in
sleep does not appear so clear nor so distinct as does all this. But
in thinking over this I remind myself that on many occasions I have
in sleep been deceived by similar illusions, and in dwelling carefully
on this reflection I see so manifestly that there are no certain
indications by which we may clearly distinguish wakefulness from
sleep that I am lost in astonishment. And my astonishment is
such that it is almost capable of persuading me that I now dream.
Now let us assume that we are asleep and that all these
particulars, e.g. that we open our eyes, shake our head, extend our
bands, and so on, are but false delusions ; and let us reflect that
possibly neither our hands nor our whole body are such as they
appear to us to be. At the same time we must at least confess that
the things which are represented to us in sleep are like painted
representations which can only have been formed as the counter-
parts of something real and true, and that in this way those general
things at least, i.e. eyes, a head, hands, and a whole body, are not
imaginary things, but things really existent. For, as a matter of
fact, painters, even when they study with the greatest skill to
represent sirens and satyrs by forms the most strange and extra-
ordinary, cannot give them natures which are entirely new, but
merely make a certain medley of the members of different animals ;
or if their imagination is extravagant enough to invent something
so novel that nothing similar has ever before been seen, and that
then their work represents a thing purely fictitious and absolutely
false, it is certain all the same that the colours of which this is
composed are necessarily real. And for the same reason, although
these general things, to wit, [a body], eyes, a head, hands, and such
like, may be imaginary, we are bound at the same time to confess
that there are at least some other objects yet more simple and more
universal, which are real and true ; and of these just in the same
way as with certain real colours, all these images of things which
dwell in our thoughts, whether true and real or false and fantastic,
are formed.
To such a class of things pertains corporeal nature in general,
and its extension, the figure of extended things, their quantity or
magnitude and number, as also the place in which they are, the
time which measures their duration, and so on.
Of the things as to which we may doubt 147
That is possibly why our reasoning is not unjust when we
conclude from this that Physics, Astronomy, Medicine and all other
sciences which have as their end the consideration of composite
things, are very dubious and uncertain ; but that Arithmetic,
Geometry and other sciences of that kind which only treat of things
that are very simple and very general, without taking great trouble
to ascertain whether they are actually existent or not, contain
some measure of certainty and an element of the indubitable. For
whether I am awake or asleep, two and three together always form
five, and the square can never have more than four sides, and it
does not seem possible that truths so clear and apparent can be
suspected of any falsity [or uncertainty].
Nevertheless I have long had fixed in my mind the belief that
an all-powerful God existed by whom I have been created such as
I am. But how do I know that He has not brought it to pass that
there is no earth, no heaven, no extended body, no magnitude, no
place, and that nevertheless [I possess the perceptions of all these
things and that] they seem to me to exist just exactly as I now see
them ? And, besides, as I sometimes imagine that others deceive
themselves in the things winch they think they know best, how do
I know that I am not deceived every time that I add two and
three, or count the sides of a square, or judge of things yet
simpler, if anything simpler can be imagined ? But possibly God
has not desired that I should be thus deceived, for He is said to be
supremely good. If, however, it is contrary to His goodness to
have made me such that I constantly deceive myself, it would also
appear to be contrary to His goodness to permit me to be sometimes
deceived, and nevertheless I cannot doubt that He does permit this.
There may indeed be those who would prefer to deny the
existence of a God so powerful, rather than believe that all other
things are uncertain. But let us not oppose them for the present,
and grant that all that is here said of a God is a fable ; nevertheless
in whatever way they suppose that I have arrived at the state of
being that I have reached whether they attribute it to fate or to
accident, or make out that it is by a continual succession of ante-
cedents, or by some other method since to err and deceive oneself
is a defect, it is clear that the greater will be the probability of my
being so imperfect as to deceive myself ever, as is the Author to
whom they assign my origin the less powerful. To these reasons
I have certainly nothing to reply, but at the end I feel constrained
to confess that there is nothing in all that I formerly believed to be
148 Meditation I
true, of which I cannot in some measure doubt, and that not merely
through want of thought or through levity, but for reasons which
are very powerful and maturely considered ; so that henceforth
I ought not the less carefully to refrain from giving credence to
these opinions than to that which is manifestly false, if I desire to
arrive at any certainty [in the sciences].
But it is not sufficient to have made these remarks, we must
also be careful to keep them in mind. For these ancient and
commonly held opinions still revert frequently to my mind, long
and familiar custom having given them the right to occupy my
mind against my inclination and rendered them almost masters of
my belief ; nor will I ever lose the habit of deferring to them or of
placing my confidence in them, so long as I consider them as they
really are, i.e. opinions in some measure doubtful, as I have just
shown, and at the same time highly probable, so that there is much_
more reason to believe in than to deny them. That is why I
consider that I shall not be acting amiss, if, taking of set purpose
a contrary belief, I allow myself to be deceived, and for a certain
time pretend that all these opinions are entirely false and imaginary,
until at last, having thus balanced my former prejudices with my
latter [so that they cannot divert my opinions more to one side
than to the other], my judgment will no longer be dominated by
bad usage or turned away from the right knowledge of the truth.
For I am assured that there can be neither peril nor error in this
course, and that I cannot at present yield too much to distrust,
since I am not considering the question of action, but only of
knowledge. _
I shall then suppose, not that God who is supremely good and
the fountain of truth, but some evil genius not less powerful
than deceitful, has employed his whole energies in deceiving me ;
I shall consider that the heavens, the earth, colours, figures, sound,
and all other external things are nought but the illusions and
dreams of which this genius has availed himself in order to lay
traps for my credulity ; I shall consider myself as having no hands,
no eyes, no flesh, no blood, nor any senses, yet falsely believing
myself to possess all these things ; I shall remain obstinately
attached to this idea, and if by this means it is not in my power to
arrive at the knowledge of any truth, I may at least do what is in
my power [i.e. suspend my judgment], and with firm purpose avoid
giving credence to any false thing, or being imposed upon by this
arch deceiver, however powerful and deceptive lie may be. But this
Of the things as to which we may doubt 149
task is a laborious one, and insensibly a certain lassitude leads me
into the course of my ordinary life. And just as a captive who in
sleep enjoys an imaginary liberty, when he begins to suspect that
his liberty is but a dream, fears to awaken, and conspires with these
agreeable illusions that the deception may be prolonged, so insensibly
of my own accord I fall back into my former opinions, and I dread
awakening from this slumber, lest the laborious wakefulness which
would follow the tranquillity of this repose should have to be spent
not in daylight, but in the excessive darkness of the difficulties
which have just been discussed.
Meditation
II.
Of the Nature of the Human Mind ; and that it is more easily
known than the Body.
The Meditation of yesterday filled my mind with so many doubts
that it is no longer in my power to forget them. And yet I do not
see in what manner I can resolve them ; and, just as if I had all of
a sudden fallen into very deep water, I am so disconcerted that
I can neither make certain of setting my feet on the bottom, nor
can I swim and so support myself on the surface. I shall neverthe-
less make an effort and follow anew the same path as that on which
I yesterday entered, i.e. I shall proceed by setting aside all that in
which the least doubt could be supposed to exist, just as if I had
discovered that it was absolutely false ; and I shall ever follow in
this road until I have met with something which is certain, or at
least, if I can do nothing else, until I have learned for certain that
there is nothing in the world that is certain. Archimedes, in order
that he might draw the terrestrial globe out of its place, and
transport it elsewhere, demanded only that one point should be
fixed and immoveable ; in the same way I shall have the right to
conceive high hopes if I am happy enough to discover one thing-
only which is certain and indubitable.
I suppose, then, that all the things that I see are false ; I
persuade myself that nothing has ever existed of all that my
fallacious memory represents to me. I consider that I possess no
senses ; I imagine that body, figure, extension, movement and place
are but the fictions of my mind. What, then, can be esteemed as
true ? Perhaps nothing at all, unless that there is nothing in the
world that is certain.
But how can I know there is not something different from those
150 Meditation II
things that I have just considered, of which one cannot have the
slightest doubt? Is there not some God, or some other being by
whatever name we call it, who puts these reflections into my mind ?
That is not necessary, for is it not possible that I am capable of
producing them myself ? I myself, am I not at least something \
But I have already denied that I had senses and body. Yet I
hesitate, for what follows from that ? Am I so dependent on body
and senses that I cannot exist without these ? But I was persuaded
that there was nothing in all the world, that there was no heaven,
no earth, that there were no minds, nor any bodies : was I not then
likewise persuaded that I did not exist ? Not at all ; of a surety I
myself did exist since I persuaded myself of something [or merely
because I thought of something]. But there is some deceiver or other,
very powerful and very cunning, who ever employs his ingenuity in
deceiving me. Then without doubt I exist also if he deceives me,
and let him deceive me as much as he will, he can never cause me
to be nothing so long as I think that I am something. So that
after having reflected well and carefully examined all things, we
must come to the definite conclusion that this proposition : I am, I
exist, is necessarily true each time that I pronounce it, or that I
mentally conceive it.
But I do not yet know clearly enough what I am, I who am
certain that I am ; and hence I must be careful to see that I do not
imprudently take some other object in place of myself, and thus
that I do not go astray in respect of this knowledge that I hold to
be the most certain and most evident of all that I have formerly
learned. That is why I shall now consider anew what I believed
myself to be before I embarked upon these last reflections ; and of
my former opinions I shall withdraw all that might even in a small
degree be invalidated by the reasons which I have just brought
forward, in order that there may be nothing at all left beyond what
is absolutely certain and indubitable.
What then did I formerly believe myself to be ? Undoubtedly
I believed myself to be a man. But what is a man ? Shall I say a
reasonable animal ? Certainly not ; for then I should have to
inquire what an animal is, and what is reasonable ; and thus from
a single question I should insensibly fall into an infinitude of others
more difficult ; and I should not wish to waste the little time and
leisure remaining to me in trying to unravel subtleties like these.
But I shall rather stop here to consider the thoughts which of
themselves spring up in my mind, and which were not inspired by
Of the Nature of the Human Mind 151
anything beyond my own nature alone when I applied myself to the
consideration of my being. In the first place, then, I considered
myself as having a face, hands, arms, and all that system of members
composed of bones and flesh as seen in a corpse which I designated
by the name of body. In addition to this I considered that I was
nourished, that I walked, that I felt, and that I thought, and I
referred all these actions to the soul : but I did not stop to consider
what the soul was, or if I did stop, I imagined that it was something
extremely rare and subtle like a wind, a flame, or an ether, which
was spread throughout my grosser parts. As to body I had no
manner of doubt about its nature, but thought I had a very clear
knowledge of it ; and if I had desired to explain it according to the
notions that I had then formed of it, I should have described it
thus : By the body I understand all that which can be defined by a
certain figure : something which can be confined in a certain place,
and which can fill a given space in such a way that every other body
will be excluded from it ; which can be perceived either by touch,
or by sight, or by hearing, or by taste, or by smell : which can be
moved in many ways not, in truth, by itself, but by something which
is foreign to it, by which it is touched [and from which it receives
impressions] : for to have the power of self-movement, as also of
feeling or of thinking, I did not consider to appertain to the nature
of body : on the contrary, I was rather astonished to find that
faculties similar to them existed in some bodies.
But what am I, now that I suppose that there is a certain genius - '
which is extremely powerful, and, if I may say so, malicious, who
employs all his powers in deceiving me ? Can I affirm that I possess
the least of all those things which I have just said pertain to the
nature of body ? I pause to consider, I revolve all these things in
my mind, and I find none of which I can say that it pertains to me.
It would be tedious to stop to enumerate them. Let us pass to the
attributes of soul and see if there is any one which is in me ?
What of nutrition or walking [the first mentioned] ? But if it is so
that I have no body it is also true that I can neither walk nor take
nourishment. Another attribute is sensation. But one cannot feel
without body, and besides I have thought I perceived many things
during sleep that I recognised in my waking moments as not having
been experienced at all. What of thinking ? I find here that
thought is an attribute that belongs to me ; it alone cannot be
separated from me. I am, I exist, that is certain. But how often ?
Just when I think ; for it might possibly be the case if I ceased
152 Meditation II
entirely to think, that I should likewise cease altogether to exist.
I do not now admit anything which is not necessarily true : to
speak accurately I am not more than a thing which thinks, that is
to say a mind or a soul, or an understanding, or a reason, which are
terms whose significance was formerly unknown to me. I am,
\\ however, a real thing and really exist; but what thing? I have
answered : a thing which thinks.
And what more ? I shall exercise my imagination [in order to
see if I am not something more]. I am not a collection of members
which we call the human body : I am not a subtle air distributed
through these members, I am not a wind, a fire, a vapour, a breath,
nor anything at all which I can imagine or conceive ; because
I have assumed that all these were nothing. Without changing
that supposition I find that I only leave myself certain of the fact
that I am somewhat. But perhaps it is true that these same things
which I supposed were non-existent because they are unknown to
me, are really not different from the self which I know. I am not
sure about this, I shall not dispute about it now ; I can only give
judgment on things that are known to me. I know that I exist,
and I inquire what I am, I whom I know to exist. But it is very
certain that the knowledge of my existence taken in its precise
significance does not depend on things whose existence is not yet
known to me ; consequently it does not depend on those which
I can feign in imagination. And indeed the very term feign in
imagination 1 proves to me my error, for I really do this if I image
myself a something, since to imagine is nothing else than to con-
template the figure or image of a corporeal thing. But I already
know for certain that I am, and that it may be that all these images,
and, speaking generally, all things that relate to the nature of body
are nothing but dreams [and chimeras]. For this reason I see
clearly that I have as little reason to say, ' I shall stimulate my
imagination in order to know more distinctly what I am,' than if
I were to say, ' I am now awake, and I perceive somewhat that is
real and true : but because I do not yet perceive it distinctly
enough, I shall go to sleep of express purpose, so that my dreams
may represent the perception with greatest truth and evidence.'
\ And, thus, I know for certain that nothing of all that 1 can under-
stand by means of my imagination belongs to this knowledge which
1 have of myself, and that it is necessary to recall the mind from
1 Or ' form an image' (effingo).
Of the Nature of the Human Mind 153
this mode of thought with the utmost diligence in order that it may
be able to know its own nature with perfect distinctness.
But what then am I? A thing which thinks. What is a thing
which thinks ? It is a thing which doubts, understands, [conceives],
affirms, denies, wills, refuses, which also imagines and feels.
Certainly it is no small matter if all these things pertain to my
nature. But why should they not so pertain ? Am I not that
being who now doubts nearly everything, who nevertheless under-
stands certain things, who affirms that one only is true, who denies
all the others, who desires to know more, is averse from being-
deceived, who imagines many things, sometimes indeed despite his
will, and who perceives many likewise, as by the intervention of the
bodily organs ? Is there nothing in all this which is as true as it is
certain that I exist, even though I should always sleep and though
he who has given me being employed all his ingenuity in deceiving
me 1 ? Is there likewise any one of these attributes which can be
distinguished from my thought, or which might be said to be
separated from myself? For it is so evident of itself that it is
I who doubts, who understands, and who desires, that there is no
reason here to add anything to explain it. And I have certainly
the power of imagining likewise ; for although it may happen (as
I formerly supposed) that none of the things which I imagine are
true, nevertheless this power of imagining does not cease to be
really in use, and it forms part of my thought. Finally, I am the
same who feels, that is to say, who perceives certain things, as by
the organs of sense, since in truth I see light, I hear noise, I feel
heat. But it will be said that these phenomena are false and that
I am dreaming. Let it be so ; still it is at least quite certain that
it seems to me that I see light, that I hear noise and that I feel
heat. That cannot be false ; properly speaking it is what is in me
called feeling 1 ; and used in this precise sense that is no other thing
than thinking.
From this time I begin to know what I am with a little more
clearness and distinction than before ; but nevertheless it still
seems to me, and I cannot prevent myself from thinking, that
corporeal things, whose images are framed by thought, which are
tested by the senses, are much more distinctly known than that
obscure part of me which does not come under the imagination.
Although really it is very strange to say that I know and under-
stand more distinctly these things whose existence seems to me
1 Sentire.
154 Meditation II
dubious, which are unknown to me, and which do not belong to me,
than others of the truth of which I am convinced, which are known to
me and which pertain to my real "nature, in a word, than myself.
But I see clearly how the case stands : my mind loves to wander,
and cannot yet suffer itself to be retained within the just limits of
truth. Very good, let us once more give it the freest rein, so that,
when afterwards we seize the proper occasion for pulling up, it may
the more easily be regulated and controlled.
Let us begin by considering the commonest matters, those which
we believe to be the most distinctly comprehended, to wit, the bodies
which we touch and see; not indeed bodies in general, for these
general ideas are usually a little more confused, but let us consider
one body in particular. Let us take, for example, this piece of
wax : it has been taken quite freshly from the hive, and it has not
yet lost the sweetness of the honey which it contains ; it still retains
somewhat of the odour of the flowers from which it has been culled ;
its colour, its figure, its size are apparent ; it is hard, cold, easily
handled, and if you strike it with the finger, it will emit a sound.
Finally all the things which are requisite to cause us distinctly to
recognise a body, are met with in it. But notice that while I speak
and approach the fire what remained of the taste is exhaled, the
smell evaporates, the colour alters, the figure is destroyed, the size
increases, it becomes liquid, it heats, scarcely can one handle it,
and when one strikes it, no sound is emitted. Does the same wax
remain after this change 1 We must confess that it remains ; none
would judge otherwise. What then did I know so distinctly in this
piece of wax ? It could certainly be nothing of all that the senses
brought to my notice, since all these things which fall under taste,
smell, sight, touch, and hearing, are found to be changed, and yet
the same wax remains.
Perhaps it was what I now think, viz. that this wax was not that
sweetness of honey, nor that agreeable scent of flowers, nor that par-
ticular whiteness, nor that figure, nor that sound, but simply a body
which a little while before appeared to me as perceptible under these
forms, and which is now perceptible under others. But what, pre-
cisely, is it that I imagine when I form such conceptions? Let us
attentively consider this, and, abstracting from all that does not
belong to the wax, let us see what remains. Certainly nothing
remains excepting a certain extended thing which is flexible and
movable. But what is the meaning of flexible and movable? Is it
not that I imagine that this piece of wax being round is capable of
Of the Nature of the Human Mind 155
becoming square and of passing from a square to a triangular figure?
No, certainly it is not that, since I imagine it admits of an infinitude
of similar changes, and I nevertheless do not know how to compass
the infinitude by my imagination, and consequently this conception
which I have of the wax is not brought about by the faculty of
imagination. What now is this extension ? Is it not also unknown \
For it becomes greater when the wax is melted, greater when it is
boiled, and greater still when the heat increases ; and I should not
conceive [clearly] according to truth what wax is, if I did not think
that even this piece that we are considering is capable of receiving
more variations in extension than I have ever imagined. We must
then grant that I could not even understand through the imagina-
tion what this piece of wax is, and that it is my mind 1 alone which
perceives it. I say this piece of wax in particular, for as to wax in
general it is yet clearer. But what is this piece of wax which
cannot be understood excepting by the [understanding or] mind ?
It is certainly the same that I see, touch, imagine, and finally it is the
same which I have always believed it to be from the beginning. But
what must particularly be observed is that its perception is neither
an act of vision, nor of touch, nor of imagination, and has never
been such although it may have appeared formerly to be so, but
only an intuition 2 of the mind, which may be imperfect and confused
as it was formerly, or clear and distinct as it is at present, according
as my attention is more or less directed to the elements which are
found in it, and of which it is composed.
Yet in the meantime I am greatly astonished when I consider
[the great feebleness of mind] and its proneness to fall [insensibly]
into error ; for although without giving expression to my thoughts
I consider all this in my own mind, words often impede me and
I am almost deceived by the terms of ordinary language. For we
say that we see the same wax, if it is present, and not that we
simply judge that it is the same from its having the same colour
and figure. From this I should conclude that I knew the wax b)^
means of vision and not simply by the intuition of the mind ; unless
by chance I remember that, when looking from a window and saying
I see men who pass in the street, I really do not see them, but infer
that what I see is men, just as I say that I see wax. And yet what
do I see from the window but hats and coats which may cover
automatic machines ? Yet I judge these to be men. And similarly
1 entendement F., mens L., inspectio.
156 Meditation II
solely by the faculty of judgment which rests in my mind, I com-
prehend that which I believed I saw with my eyes.
A man who makes it his aim to raise his knowledge above the
common should be ashamed to derive the occasion for doubting
from the forms of speech invented by the vulgar ; I prefer to pass
on and consider whether I had a more evident and perfect concep-
tion of what the wax was when I first perceived it, and when
I believed I knew it by means of the external senses or at least by
the common sense 1 as it is called, that is to say by the imaginative
faculty, or whether my present conception is clearer now that I have
most carefully examined what it is, and in what way it can be
known. It would certainly be absurd to doubt as to this. For
what was there in this first perception which was distinct ? What
was there which might not as well have been perceived by any of
the animals 1 But w T hen I distinguish the wax from its external
forms, and when, just as if I had taken from it its vestments,
I consider it quite naked, it is certain that although some error may
still be found in my judgment, I can nevertheless not perceive it
thus without a human mind.
But finally what shall I say of this mind, that is, of myself, for
up to this point I do not admit in myself anything but mind '.
What then, I who seem to perceive this piece of wax so distinctly,
do I not know myself, not only with much more truth and certainty,
but also with much more distinctness and clearness ? For if I judge
that the wax is or exists from the fact that I see it, it certainly
follows much more clearly that I am or that I exist myself from the
fact that I see it. For it may be that what I see is not really wax,
it may also be that I do not possess eyes with which to see anything ;
but it cannot be that when I see, or (for I no longer take account of
the distinction) when I think I see, that I myself who think am
nought. So if I judge that the wax exists from the fact that 1
touch it, the same thing will follow, to wit, that I am ; and if
I judge that my imagination, or some other cause, whatever it is,
persuades me that the wax exists, I shall still conclude the same.
And what I have here remarked of wax may be applied to all other
things which are external to me [and which are met with outside
of me]. And further, if the [notion or] perception of wax has
seemed to me clearer and more distinct, not only after the sight or
the touch, but also after many other causes have rendered it quite
manifest to me, with how much more [evidence] and distinctness
1 sensus communis.
Of the Nature of the Human Mind 157
must it be said that I now know myself, since all the reasons which
contribute to the knowledge of wax, or any other body whatever,
are yet better proofs of the nature of my mind ! And there are so
many other things in the mind itself which may contribute to the
elucidation of its nature, that those which depend on body such as
these just mentioned, hardly merit being taken into account.
But finally here I am, having insensibly reverted to the point
I desired, for, since it is now manifest to me that even bodies are
not properly speaking known by the senses or by the faculty of
imagination, but by the understanding only, and since they are not
known from the fact that they are seen or touched, but only because
they are understood, I see clearly that there is nothing which is
easier for me to know than my mind. But because it is difficult to
rid oneself so promptly of an opinion to which one was accustomed
for so long, it will be well that I should halt a little at this point,
so that by the length of my meditation I may more deeply imprint
on my memory this new knowledge.
Meditation
III.
Of God: that He exists.
I shall now close my eyes, I shall stop my ears, I shall call away
all my senses, I shall efface even from my thoughts all the images of
corporeal things, or at least (for that is hardly possible) I shall
esteem them as vain and false ; and thus holding converse only with
myself and considering my own nature, I shall try little by little to
reach a better knowledge of and a more familiar acquaintanceship
with myself. I am a thing that thinks, that is to say, that doubts,
affirms, denies, that knows a few things, that is ignorant of many
[that loves, that hates], that wills, that desires, that also imagines
and perceives ; for as I remarked before, although the things which
I perceive and imagine are perhaps nothing at all apart from me
and in themselves, I am nevertheless assured that these modes of
thought that I call perceptions and imaginations, inasmuch only as
they are modes of thought, certainly reside [and are met with]
in me.
And in the little that I have just said, I think I have summed
up all that 1 really know r , or at least all that hitherto I was aware
that I knew. In order to try to extend my knowledge further,
I shall now look around more carefully and see whether I cannot
still discover in myself some other things which I have not hitherto
158 Meditation III
perceived. I am certain that I am a thing which thinks ; but do
I not then likewise know what is requisite to render me certain of
a truth ? Certainly in this first knowledge there is nothing that
assures me of its truth, excepting the clear and distinct perception
of that which I state, which would not indeed suffice to assure me
that what I say is true, if it could ever happen that a thing which
I conceived so clearly and distinctly could be false ; and accordingly
it seems to me that already I can establish as a general rule that
all things which I perceive 1 very clearly and very distinctly are true.
At the same time I have before received and admitted many
things to be very certain and manifest, which yet I afterwards
recognised as being dubious. What then were these things ? They
were the earth, sky, stars and all other objects which I apprehended
by means of the senses. But what did I clearly [and distinctly]
perceive in them ? Nothing more than that the ideas or thoughts
of these things were presented to my mind. And not even now
do I deny that these ideas are met with in me. But there was
yet another thing which I affirmed, and which, owing to the habit
which I had formed of believing it, I thought I perceived very
clearly, although in truth I did not perceive it at all, to wit, that
there were objects outside of me from which these ideas proceeded,
and to which they were entirely similar. And it was in this that
I erred, or, if perchance my judgment was correct, this was not due
to any knowledge arising from my perception.
But when I took anything very simple and easy in the sphere of
arithmetic or geometry into consideration, e.g. that two and three
together made five, and other things of the sort, were not these
present to my mind so clearly as to enable me to affirm that they
were true? Certainly if I judged that since such matters could be
doubted, this would not have been so for any other reason than that
it came into my mind that perhaps a God might have endowed
me with such a nature that I may have been deceived even
concerning things which seemed to me most manifest. But every
time that this preconceived opinion of the sovereign power of a God
presents itself to my thought, I am constrained to confess that it i>
easy to Him, if He wishes it, to cause me to err, even in matters in
which I believe myself to have the best evidence. And, on the
other hand, always when I direct my attention to things which
I believe myself to perceive very clearly, I am so persuaded of their
truth that I let myself break out into words such as these : Let
1 Percipio, F. nous concevons.
Of Gods Existence 159
who will deceive me, He can never cause me to be nothing- while
I think that I am, or some day cause it to be true to say that
I have never been, it being true now to say that I am, or that two
and three make more or less than five, or any such thing in which
I see a manifest contradiction. And, certainly, since I have no
reason to believe that there is a God who is a deceiver, and as
1 have not yet satisfied myself that there is a God at all, the reason
for doubt which depends on this opinion alone is very slight, and so
to speak metaphysical. But in order to be able altogether to
remove it, I must inquire whether there is a God as soon as the
occasion presents itself; and*if I find that there is a God, I must
also inquire whether He may be a deceiver ; for without a knowledge
of these two truths I do not see that I can ever be certain of
anything.
And in order that I may have an opportunity of inquiring into
this in an orderly way [without interrupting the order of meditation
which I have proposed to myself, and which is little by little to
pass from the. notions which I find first of all in my mind to those
which I shall later on discover in it] it is requisite that I should
here divide my thoughts into certain kinds, and that I should
consider in which of these kinds there is, properly speaking, truth
or error to be found. Of my thoughts some are, so to speak, images
of the things, and to these alone is the title ' idea ' properly applied ;
examples are my thought of a man or of a chimera, of heaven, of
an angel, or [even] of God. But other thoughts possess other
forms as well. For example in willing, fearing, approving, denying,
though I always perceive something as the subject of the action
of my mind 1 , yet by this action I always add something else to the
idea 2 which I have of that thing ; and of the thoughts of this kind
some are called volitions or affections, and others judgments.
Now as to what concerns ideas, if we consider them only in
themselves and do' not relate them to anything else beyond
themselves, they cannot properly speaking be false ; for whether
I imagine a goat or a chimera, it is not less true that I imagine the
one than the other. We must not fear likewise that falsity can
enter into will and into affections, for although I may desire evil
things, or even things that never existed, it is not the less true that
I desire them. Thus there remains no more than the judgments
1 The French version is followed here as being more explicit. In it ' action
de mon esprit ' replaces ' mea cogitatio.'
2 In the Latin version ' sirnilitudinem.'
160 Meditation III
which we make, in which I must take the greatest care not to
deceive myself. But the principal error and the commonest which
we may meet with in them, consists in my judging that the ideas
which are in me are similar or conformable to the things which are
outside me ; for without doubt if I considered the ideas only as
certain modes of my thoughts, without trying to relate them to
anything beyond, they could scarcely give me material for error.
But among these ideas, some appear to me to be innate, some
adventitious, and others to be formed [or invented] by "myself; for,
as I have the power of understanding what is called a thing, or a
truth, or a thought, it appears to me that I hold this power from
no other source than my own nature. But if I now hear some sound,
if I see the sun, or feel heat, I have hitherto judged that these
sensations proceeded from certain things that exist outside of me ;
and finally it appears to me that sirens, hippogryphs, and the like,
are formed out of my own mind. But again I may possibly
persuade myself that all these ideas are of the nature of those which
I term adventitious, or else that they are all innate, or all fictitious:
for I have not yet clearly discovered their true origin.
And my principal task in this place is to consider, in respect to
those ideas which appear to me to proceed from certain objects that
are outside me, what are the reasons which cause me to think them
similar to these objects. It seems indeed in the first place that
I am taught this lesson by nature ; and, secondly, I experience in
myself that these ideas do not depend on my will nor therefore on
myself for they often present themselves to my mind in spite of
my will. Just now, for instance, whether I will or whether I do not
will, I feel heat, and thus I persuade myself that this feeling, or at
least this idea of heat, is produced in me by something which is
different from me, i.e. by the heat of the fire near which I sit.
And nothing seems to me more obvious than to judge that this
object imprints its likeness rather than anything else upon me.
Now I must discover whether these proofs are sufficiently strong
and convincing. When I say that I am so instructed by nature,
I merely mean a certain spontaneous inclination which impels me
to believe in this connection, and not a natural light which makes
me recognise that it is true. But these two things are very
different ; for I cannot doubt that which the natural light causes
me to believe to be true, as, for example, it has shown me that I am
from the fact that I doubt, or other facts of the same kind. And
I possess no other faculty whereby to distinguish truth from false-
Of God's Existence 161
hood, which can teach me that what this light shows me to be true
is not really true, and no other faculty that is equally trustworthy.
But as far as [apparently] natural impulses are concerned, I have
frequently remarked, when I had to make active choice between
virtue and vice, that they often enough led me to the part that was
worse ; and this is why I do not see any reason for following them
in what regards truth and error.
And as to the other reason, which is that these ideas must
proceed from objects outside me, since they do not depend on
my will, I do not rind it any the more convincing. For just as
these impulses of which I have spoken are found in me, notwith-
standing that they do not always concur with my will, so perhaps
there is in me some faculty fitted to produce these ideas without
the assistance of any external things, even though it is not yet
known by me ; just as, apparently, they have hitherto always been
found in me during sleep without the aid of any external objects.
And finally, though they did proceed from objects different
from myself, it is not a necessary consequence that they should
resemble these. On the contrary, I have noticed that in many
cases there was a great difference between the object and its idea.
1 find, for example, two completely diverse ideas of the sun in my
mind ; the one derives its origin from the senses, and should be
placed in the category of adventitious ideas ; according to this
idea the sun seems to be extremely small ; but the other is derived
from astronomical reasonings, i.e. is elicited from certain notions
that are innate in me, or else it is formed by me in some other
manner ; in accordance with it the sun appears to be several times
greater than the earth. These two ideas cannot, indeed, both
resemble the same sun, and reason makes me believe that the one
which seems to have originated directly from the sun itself, is the
one which is most dissimilar to it.
All this causes me to believe that until the present time it has
not been by a judgment that was certain [or premeditated], but
only by a sort of blind impulse that I believed that things existed
outside of, and different from me, which, by the organs of my
senses, or by some other method whatever it might be, conveyed
these ideas or images to me [and imprinted on me their
similitudes].
But there is yet another method of inquiring whether any of
the objects of which I have ideas within me exist outside of me.
If ideas are only taken as certain modes of thought, I recognise
162 Meditation III
amongst them no difference or inequality, and all appear to proceed
from me in the same manner ; but when we consider them as
images, one representing one thing and the other another, it is clear
that they are very different one from the other. There is no doubt
that those which represent to me substances are something more,
and contain so to speak more objective reality within them [that is
to say, by representation participate in a higher degree of being or
perfection] than those that simply represent modes or accidents ;
and that idea again by which I understand a supreme God, eternal,
infinite, [immutable], omniscient, omnipotent, and Creator of all
things which are outside of Himself, has certainly more objective
reality in itself than those ideas by which finite substances are
represented.
Now it is manifest by the natural light that there must at least
be as much reality in the efficient and total cause as in its effect.
For, pray, whence can the effect derive its reality, if not from its
cause 1? And in what way can this cause communicate this reality
to it, unless it possessed it in itself ? And from this it follows, not
only that something cannot proceed from nothing, but likewise
that what is more perfect that is to say, which has more reality
within itself cannot proceed from the less perfect. And this is
not only evidently true of those effects which possess actual or
formal reality, but also of the ideas in which we consider merely
what is termed objective reality. To take an example, the stone
which has not yet existed not only cannot now commence to be
unless it has been produced by something which possesses within
itself, either formally or eminently, all that enters into the
composition of the stone [i.e. it must possess the same things or
other more excellent things than those which exist in the stone]
and heat can only be produced in a subject in which it did not
previously exist by a cause that is of an order [degree or kind] at
least as perfect as heat, and so in all other cases. But further,
the idea of heat, or of a stone, cannot exist in me unless it has
been placed within me by some cause which possesses within it at
least as much reality as that which 1 conceive to exist in the heat
or the stone. For although this cause does not transmit anything
of its actual or formal reality to my idea, we must not for that
reason imagine that it is necessarily a less real cause ; we must
remember that [since every idea is a work of the mind] its nature
is such that it demands of itself no other formal reality than that
which it borrows from my thought, of which it is only a mode
Of God's Existence 163
[i.e. a manner or way of thinking]. But in order that an idea
should contain some one certain objective reality rather than
another, it must without doubt derive it from some cause in which
there is at least as much formal reality as this idea contains of
objective reality. For if we imagine that something is found in an
idea which is not found in the cause, it must then have been
derived from nought ; but however imperfect may be this mode of
being by which a thing is objectively [or by representation] in the
understanding by its idea, we cannot certainly say that this mode of
being is nothing, nor, consequently, that the idea derives its origin
from nothing.
Nor must I imagine that, since the reality that I consider in
these ideas is only .objective, it is not essential that this reality
should be formally in the causes of my ideas, but that it is
sufficient that it should be found objectively. For just as this
mode of objective existence pertains to ideas by their proper
nature, so does the mode of formal existence pertain to the causes
of those ideas (this is at least true of the first and principal) by the
nature peculiar to them. And although it may be the case that
one idea gives birth to another idea, that cannot continue to be so
indefinitely ; for in the end we must reach an idea whose cause
shall be so to speak an archetype, in which the whole reality [or
perfection] which is so to speak objectively [or by representation]
in these ideas is contained formally [and really]. Thus the light
of nature causes me to know clearly that the ideas in me are like
[pictures or] images which can, in truth, easily fall short of the
perfection of the objects from which they have been derived, but
which can never contain anything greater or more perfect.
And the longer and the more carefully that 1 investigate these
matters, the more clearly and distinctly do I recognise their truth.
But what am I to conclude from it all in the end? It is this, that
if the objective reality of any one of my ideas is of such a nature as
clearly to make me recognise that it is not in me either formally or
eminently, and that consequently I cannot myself be the cause of it,
it follows of necessity that I am not alone in the world, but that
there is another being which exists, or which is the cause of this
idea. On the other hand, had no such an idea existed in me,
I should have had no sufficient argument to convince me of the
existence of any being beyond myself ; for I have made very careful
investigation everywhere and up to the present time have been able
to find no other ground.
164 Meditation III
But of my ideas, beyond that which represents me to myself, as
to which there can here be no difficulty, there is another which
represents a God, and there are others representing corporeal and
inanimate things, others angels, others animals, and others again
which represent to me men similar to myself.
As regards the ideas which represent to me other men or
animals, or angels, I can however easily conceive that they might
be formed by an admixture of the other ideas which I have of
myself, of corporeal things, and of God, even although there were
apart from me neither men nor animals, nor angels, in all the
world.
And in regard to the ideas of corporeal objects, I do not
recognise in them anything so great or so excellent that they might
not have possibly proceeded from myself; for if I consider them
more closely, and examine them individually, as I yesterday
examined the idea of wax, I find that there is very little in them
which I perceive clearly and distinctly. Magnitude or extension in
length, breadth, or depth, I do so perceive ; also figure which results
from a termination of this extension, the situation which bodies of
different figure preserve in relation to one another, and movement
or change of situation ; to which we may also add substance,
duration and number. As to other things such as light, colours,
sounds, scents, tastes, heat, cold and the other tactile qualities,
they are thought by me with so much obscurity and confusion
that I do not even know if they are true or false, i.e. whether the
ideas which I form of these qualities are actually the ideas of real
objects or not [or whether they only represent chimeras which
cannot exist in fact]. For although I have before remarked that
it is only in judgments that falsity, properly speaking, or formal
falsity, can be met with, a certain material falsity may nevertheless
be found in ideas, i.e. when these ideas represent what is nothing as
though it were something. For example, the idea> which I have of
cold and heat are so far from clear and distinct that by their means
I cannot tell whether cold is merely a privation of heat, or heat a
privation of cold, or whether both are real qualities, or are not such.
And inasmuch as [since ideas resemble images] there cannot be any
ideas which do not appear to represent some things, if it is correct
to say that cold is merely a privation of heat, the idea which
represents it to me as something real and positive will not be
improperly termed false, and the same holds good of other similar
ideas.
Of God's Existence 165
To these it is certainly not necessary that I should attribute
any author other than myself. For if they are false, i.e. if they
represent things which do not exist, the light of nature shows me
that they issue from nought, that is to say, that they are only in
me in so far as something is lacking to the perfection of my nature.
But if they are true, nevertheless because they exhibit so little
reality to me that I cannot even clearly distinguish the thing-
represented from non-being, I do not see any reason why they
should not be produced by myself.
As to the clear and distinct idea which I have of corporeal
things, some of them seem as though I might have derived them
from the idea which I possess of myself, as those which I have of
substance, duration, number, and such like. For [even] when I
think that a stone is a substance, or at least a thing capable of
existing of itself, and that I am a substance also, although I
conceive that I am a thing that thinks and not one that is extended,
and that the stone on the other hand is ah extended thing which
does not think, and that thus there is a notable difference between
the two conceptions they seem, nevertheless, to agree in this, that
both represent substances. In the same way, when I perceive that
I now exist and further recollect that I have in former times
existed, and when I remember that I have various thoughts of
which I can recognise the number, I acquire ideas of duration and
number which I can afterwards transfer to any object that I please.
But as to all the other qualities of which the ideas of corporeal
things are composed, to wit, extension, figure, situation and motion,
it is true that they are not formally in me, since I am only a thing
that thinks; but because they are merely certain modes of substance
[and so to speak the vestments under which corporeal substance
appears to us] and because I myself am also a substance, it would
seem that they might be contained in me eminently.
Hence there remains alone the idea of God, concerning which
we must consider whether it is not something that is capable of
proceeding from me myself. By the name God I understand a !
substance that is infinite [eternal, immutable], independent, all-
knowing, all-powerful, and by which 1 myself and everything else,
if anything else does exist, have been created. Now all these
characteristics are such that the more diligently I attend to them,
the less do they appear capable of proceeding from me alone ;
hence, from what has been already said, we must conclude that
God necessarily exists.
166 Meditation III
For although the idea of substance is within me owing to the
fact that I am substance, nevertheless I should not have the idea of
an infinite substance since I am finite if it had not proceeded
from some substance which was veritably infinite.
Nor should I imagine that I do not perceive the infinite by a
true idea, but only by the negation of the finite, just as I perceive
repose and darkness by the negation of movement and of light ;
for, on the contrary, I see that there is manifestly more reality in
infinite substance than in finite, and therefore that in some way
I have in me the notion of the infinite earlier than the finite to
wit, the notion of God before that of myself. For how would it
be possible that I should know that I doubt and desire, that is to
say, that something is lacking to me, and that I am not quite
perfect, unless I had within me some idea of a Being more perfect
than myself, in comparison with which I should recognise the
deficiencies of my nature'?
And we cannot say that this idea of God is perhaps materially false
and that consequently I can derive it from nought [i.e. that possibly
it exists in me because I am imperfect], as I have just said is the
case with ideas of heat, cold and other such things ; for, on the
contrary, as this idea is very clear and distinct and contains within
it more objective reality than any other, there can be none which is
of itself more true, nor any in which there can be less suspicion of
falsehood. The idea, I say, of this Being who is absolutely perfect
and infinite, is entirely true ; for although, perhaps, we can imagine
that such a Being does not exist, we cannot nevertheless imagine
that His idea represents nothing real to me, as I have said of the
idea of cold. This idea is also very clear and distinct ; since all
that I conceive clearly and distinctly of the real and the true, and
of what conveys some perfection, is in its entirety contained in this
idea. And this does not cease to be true although I do not com-
prehend the infinite, or though in God there is an infinitude of
things which I cannot comprehend, nor possibly even reach in any
way by thought ; for it is of the nature of the infinite that my
nature, which is finite and limited, should not comprehend it ; and
it is sufficient that I should understand this, and that I should
judge that all things which 1 clearly perceive and in which I know
that there is some perfection, and possibly likewise an infinitude of
properties of which I am ignorant, are in God formally or eminently,
so that the idea which I have of Him may become the most true,
most clear, and most distinct of all the ideas that are in my mind.
Of Gods Existence 167
But possibly I am something more than I suppose myself to be,
and perhaps all those perfections which I attribute to God are in
some way potentially in me, although they do not yet disclose
themselves, or issue in action. As a matter of fact I am already
sensible that my knowledge increases [and perfects itself] little by
little, and I see nothing which can prevent it from increasing more
and more into infinitude; nor do I see, after it has thus been
increased [or perfected], anything to prevent my being able to
acquire by its means all the other perfections of the Divine nature ;
nor finally why the power I have of acquiring these perfections, if it
really exists in me, shall not suffice to produce the ideas of them.
At the same time I recognise that this cannot be. For, in the
first place, although it were true that every day my knowledge
acquired new degrees of perfection, and that there were in my
nature many things potentially which are not yet there actually,
nevertheless these excellences do not pertain to [or make the
smallest approach to] the idea which I have of God in whom there
is nothing merely potential [but in whom all is present really and
actually] ; for it is an infallible token of imperfection in my
knowledge that it increases little by little. And further, although
my knowledge grows more and more, nevertheless I do not for that
reason believe that it can ever be actually infinite, since it can
never reach a point so high that it will be unable to attain to any
greater increase. But I understand God to be actually infinite, so
that He can add nothing to His supreme perfection. And finally
I perceive that the objective being of an idea cannot be produced
by a being that exists potentially only, which properly speaking is
nothing, but only by a being which is formal or actual.
To speak the truth, I see nothing in all that I have just said
which by the light of nature is not manifest to anyone who desires
to think attentively on the subject ; but when I slightly relax my
attention, my mind, finding its vision somewhat obscured and so to
speak blinded by the images of sensible objects, I do not easily re-
collect the reason why the idea that I possess of a being more perfect
than I, must necessarily have been placed in me by a being which is
really more perfect; and this is why I wish here to go on to inquire
whether I, who have this idea, can exist if no such being exists.
And I ask, from whom do I then derive my existence ? Perhaps
from myself or from my parents, or from some other source less
perfect than God ; for we can imagine nothing more perfect than
God, or even as perfect as He is.
168 Meditation HI
But [were I independent of every other and] were I myself the
author of my being, I should doubt nothing and I should desire
nothing, and finally no perfection would be lacking to me ; for
I should have bestowed on myself every perfection of which I
possessed any idea and should thus be God. And it must not be
imagined that those things that are lacking to me are perhaps more
difficult of attainment than those which I already possess ; for, on
the contrary, it is quite evident that it was a matter of much
greater difficulty to bring to pass that I, that is to say, a thing or
a substance that thinks, should emerge out of nothing, than it
would be to attain to the knowledge of many things of which 1 am
ignorant, and which are only the accidents of this thinking sub-
stance. But it is clear that if I had of myself possessed this greater
perfection of which I have just spoken [that is to say, if I had been
the author of my own existence], I should not at least have denied
myself the things which are the more easy to acquire [to wit, many
branches of knowledge of which my nature is destitute] ; nor
should I have deprived myself of any of the things contained in the
idea which I form of God, because there are none of them which
seem to me specially difficult to acquire: and if there were any that
were more difficult to acquire, they would certainly appear to me to
be such (supposing I myself were the origin of the other things
which 1 possess) since I should discover in them that my powers
were limited.
But though I assume that perhaps I have always existed just as
1 am at present, neither can I escape the force of this reasoning,
and imagine that the conclusion to be drawn from this is, that
I need not seek for any author of my existence. For all the course
of my life may be divided into an infinite number of parts, none of
which is in any way dependent on the other ; and thus from the
fact that 1 was in existence a short time ago it does not follow that
1 must be in existence now, unless some cause at this instant, so to
speak, produces me anew, that is to say, conserves me. It is as a
matter of fact perfectly clear and evident to all those who consider
with attention the nature of time, that, in order to be conserved in
each moment in which it endures, a substance has need of the same
power and action as would be necessary to produce and create it
anew, supposing it did not yet exist ; so that the light of nature
shows us clearly that the distinction between creation and con-
servation is solely a distinction of the reason.
All that I thus require here is that I should interrogate myself,
Of God's Existence 169
if I wish to know whether I possess a power which is capable of
bringing it to pass that I who now am shall still be in the future ;
for since I am nothing but a thinking thing, or at least since thus
far it is only this portion of myself which is precisely in question at
present, if such a power did reside in me, I should certainly be
conscious of it. But I am conscious of nothing of the kind, and by
this I know clearly that I depend on some being different from
myself.
Possibly, however, this being on which I depend is not that
which I call God, and I am created either by my parents or by some
other cause less perfect than God. This cannot be, because, as
I have just said, it is perfectly evident that there must be at least
as much reality in the cause as in the effect ; and thus since I am
a thinking thing, and possess an idea of God within me, whatever
in the end be the cause assigned to my existence, it must be allowed
that it is likewise a thinking thing and that it possesses in itself
the idea of all the perfections which I attribute to God. We may
again inquire whether this cause derives its origin from itself or
from some other thing. For if from itself, it follows by the reasons
before brought forward, that this cause must itself be God ; for
since it possesses the virtue of self-existence, it must also without
doubt have the power of actually possessing all the perfections of
which it has the idea, that is, all those which I conceive as existing
in God. But if it derives its existence from some other cause than
itself, we shall again ask, for the same reason, whether this second
cause exists by itself or through another, until from one step to
another, we finally arrive at an ultimate cause, which will be God.
And it is perfectly manifest that in this there can be no regression
into infinity, since what is in question is not so much the cause
which formerly created me, as that which conserves me at the
present time.
Nor can we suppose that several causes may have concurred in
my production, and that from one I have received the idea of one of
the perfections which I attribute to God, and from another the idea
of some other, so that all these perfections indeed exist somewhere
in the universe, but not as complete in one unity which is God.
On the contrary, the unity, the simplicity or the inseparability of all
things which are in God is one of the principal perfections which
I conceive to be in Him. And certainly the idea of this unity of
all Divine perfections cannot have been placed in me by any cause
from which I have not likewise received the ideas of all the other
170 Meditation III
perfections ; for this cause could not make me able to comprehend
them as joined together in an inseparable unity without having at
the same time caused me in some measure to know what they are
[and in some way to recognise each one of them].
Finally, so far as my parents [from whom it appears I have
sprung] are concerned, although all that I have ever been able to
believe of them were true, that does not make it follow that it is
they who conserve me, nor are they even the authors of my being
in any sense, in so far as I am a thinking being ; since what they
did was merely to implant certain dispositions in that matter in
which the self i.e. the mind, which alone I at present identify with
myself is by me deemed to exist. And thus there can be no
difficulty in their regard, but we must of necessity conclude from
the fact alone that I exist, or that the idea of a Being supremely
perfect that is of God is in me, that the proof of God's existence
is grounded on the highest evidence.
It only remains to me to examine into the manner in which
I have acquired this idea from God ; for I have not received it
through the senses, and it is never presented to me unexpectedly, as
is usual with the ideas of sensible things when these things present
themselves, or seem to present themselves, to the external organs of
my senses ; nor is it likewise a fiction of my mind, for it is not in
my power to take from or to add anything to it ; and consequently
the only alternative is that it is innate in me, just as the idea of
myself is innate in me.
And one certainly ought not to find it strange that God, in
creating me, placed this idea within me to be like the mark of the
workman imprinted on his work ; and it is likewise not essential
that the mark shall be something different from the work itself.
For from the sole fact that God created me it is most probable that
in some way he has placed his image and similitude upon me, and
that I perceive this similitude (in which the idea of God is contained)
by means of the same faculty by which I perceive myself that is
to say, when I reflect on myself I not only know that I am some-
thing [imperfect], incomplete and dependent on another, which
incessantly aspires after something which is better and greater than
myself, but I also know that He on whom I depend possesses in
Himself all the great things towards which I aspire [and the ideas
of which I find within myself], and that not indefinitely or
potentially alone, but really, actually and infinitely ; and that thus
He is God. And the whole strength of the argument which I have
Of God's Existence 171
here made use of to prove the existence of God consists in this,
that I recognise that it is not possible that my nature should be
what it is, and indeed that I should have in myself the idea of a
God, if God did not veritably exist a God, I say, whose idea is in
me, i.e. who possesses all those supreme perfections of which our
mind may indeed have some idea but without understanding them
all, who is liable to no errors or defect [and who has none of all
those marks which denote imperfection]. From this it is manifest
that He cannot be a deceiver, since the light of nature teaches us
that fraud and deception necessarily proceed from some defect.
But before I examine this matter with more care, and pass on to
the consideration of other truths which may be derived from it, it
seems to me right to pause for a while in order to contemplate God
Himself, to ponder at leisure His marvellous attributes, to consider,
and admire, and adore, the beauty of this light so resplendent, at
least as far as the strength of my mind, which is in some measure
dazzled by the sight, will allow me to do so. For just as faith
teaches us that the supreme felicity of the other life consists only
in this contemplation of the Divine Majesty, so we continue to
learn by experience that a similar meditation, though incomparably
less perfect, causes us to enjoy the greatest satisfaction of which we
are capable in this life.
Meditation IV.
Of the True and the False.
I have been well accustomed these past days to detach my mind
from my senses, and I have accurately observed that there are very
few things that one knows with certainty respecting corporeal objects,
that there are many more which are known to us respecting the
human mind, and yet more still regarding God Himself ; so that I shall
now without any difficulty abstract my thoughts from the considera-
tion of [sensible or] imaginable objects, and carry them to those
which, being withdrawn from all contact with matter, are purely
intelligible. ' And certainly the idea which I possess of the human
mind inasmuch as it is a thinking thing, and not extended in
length, width and depth, nor participating in anything pertaining
to body, is incomparably more distinct than is the idea of any
corporeal thing. And when I consider that I doubt, that is to say,
that I am an incomplete and dependent being, the idea of a being
that is complete and independent, that is of God, presents itself to
172 Meditation IV
my mind with so much distinctness and clearness and from the
fact alone that this idea is found in me, or that I who possess this
idea exist, I conclude so certainly that God exists, and that my
existence depends entirely on Him in every moment of my life
that I do not think that the human mind is capable of knowing
anything with more evidence and certitude. And it seems to me
that I now have before me a road which will lead us from the
contemplation of the true God (in whom all the treasures of science
and wisdom are contained) to the knowledge of the other objects of
the universe.
For, first of all, I recognise it to be impossible that He should
ever deceive me ; for in all fraud and deception some imperfection
is to be found, and although it may appear that the power of
deception is a mark of subtilty or power, yet the desire to deceive
without doubt testifies to malice or feebleness, and accordingly
cannot be found in God.
In the next place I experienced in myself a certain capacity for
judging which I have doubtless received from God, like all the
other things that I possess ; and as He could not desire to deceive
me, it is clear that He has not given me a faculty that will lead me
to err if I use it aright.
And no doubt respecting this matter could remain, if it were
not that the consequence would seem to follow that I can thus
never be deceived ; for if I hold all that I possess from God, and if
He has not placed in me the capacity for error, it seems as though
I could never fall into error. And it is true that when I think only-
of God [and direct my mind wholly to Him] 1 , I discover [in myself]
no cause of error, or falsity ; yet directly afterwards, when recurring
to myself, experience shows me that I am nevertheless subject to an
infinitude of errors, as to which, when Ave come to investigate them
more closely, I notice that not only is there a real and positive idea
of God or of a Being of supreme perfection present to my mind, but
also, so to speak, a certain negative idea of nothing, that is, of that
which is infinitely removed from any kind of perfection ; and that
I am in a sense something intermediate between God and nought,
i.e. placed in such a manner between the supreme Being and non-
being, that there is in truth nothing in me that can lead to error in
so far as a sovereign Being has formed me ; but that, as I in some
degree participate likewise in nought or in non-being, i.e. in so far
as 1 am not myself the supreme Being, and as I find myself subject
1 Not in the French version.
Of the True and the False 173
to an infinitude of imperfections, I ought nut to be astonished if
I should fall into error. Thus do I recognise that error, in so far
as it is such, is not a real thing depending on God, but simply a
defect ; and therefore, in order to fall into it, that I have no need
to possess a special faculty given me by God for this very purpose,
but that I fall into error from the fact that the power given me
by God for the purpose of distinguishing truth from error is not
infinite.
Nevertheless this does not quite satisfy me ; for error is not a pure
negation [i.e. is not the simple defect or want of some perfection
which ought not to be mine], but it is a lack of some knowledge
which it seems that I ought to possess. And on considering the
nature of God it does not appear to me possible that He should
have given me a faculty which is not perfect of its kind, that is,
which is wanting in some perfection due to it. For if it is true
that the more skilful the artisan, the more perfect is the work of his
hands, what can have been produced by this supreme Creator of all
things that is not in all its parts perfect ? And certainly there is
no doubt that God could have created me so that I could never
have been subject to error ; it is also certain that He ever wills
what is best ; is it then better that I should be subject to err than
that I should not ?
In considering this more attentively, it occurs to me in the first
place that I should not be astonished if my intelligence is not
capable of comprehending why God acts as He does ; and that there
is thus no reason to doubt of His existence from the fact that I may
perhaps find many other things besides this as to which I am able
to understand neither for what reason nor how God has produced
them. For, in the first place, knowing that my nature is extremely
feeble and limited, and that the nature of God is on the contrary
immense, incomprehensible, and infinite, I have no further difficulty
in recognising that there is an infinitude of matters in His power,
the causes of which transcend my knowledge ; and this reason
suffices to convince me that the species of cause termed final, finds
no useful employment in physical [or natural] things ; for it does
not appear to me that I can without temerity seek to investigate
the [inscrutable] ends of God.
It further occurs to me that we should not consider one single
creature separately, when we inquire as to whether the works of God
are perfect, but should regard all his creations together. For the
same thing which might possibly seem very imperfect with some
174 Meditation IV
semblance of reason if regarded by itself, is found to be very perfect
if regarded as part of the whole universe ; and although, since
I resolved to doubt all things, I as yet have only known certainly
my own existence and that of God, nevertheless since I have
recognised the infinite power of God, I cannot deny that He may
have produced many other things, or at least that He has the power
of producing them, so that I may obtain a place as a part of a great
universe.
Whereupon, regarding myself more closely, and considering what
are my errors (for they alone testify to there being any imperfection
in me), I answer that they depend on a combination of two causes,
to wit, on the faculty of knowledge that rests in me, and on the
power of choice or of free will that is to say, of the understanding
and at the same time of the will. For by the understanding alone
I [neither assert nor deny anything, but] apprehend 1 the ideas of
things as to which I can form a judgment. But no error is properly
speaking found in it, provided the word error is taken in its proper
signification : and though there is possibly an infinitude of things
in the world of which I have no idea in my understanding, we cannot
for all that say that it is deprived of these ideas [as we might say
of something which is required by its nature], but simply it does
not possess these ; because in truth there is no reason to prove that
God should have given me a greater faculty of knowledge than He
has given me ; and however skilful a workman I represent Him to
be, I should not for all that consider that He was bound to have
placed in each of His works all the perfections which He may have
%/ been able to place in some. I likewise cannot complain that God
has not given me a free choice or a will which is sufficient, ample
and perfect, since as a matter of fact I am conscious of a will so
extended as to be subject to no limits. And what seems to me very
remarkable in this regard is that of all the qualities which I possess
there is no one so perfect and so comprehensive that I do not very
clearly recognise that it might be yet greater and more perfect.
For, to take an example, if I consider the faculty of comprehension
which I possess, I find that it is of very small extent and extremely
limited, and at the same time 1 find the idea of another faculty
much more ample and even infinite, and seeing that I can form the
idea of it, I recognise from this very fact that it pertains to the
nature of God. If in the same way I examine the memory, the
imagination, or some other faculty, I do not find any which is not
1 percipio.
Of the True and the False 175
small and circumscribed, while in God it is immense [or infinite].
It is free-will alone or liberty of choice which I find to be so great
in me that I can conceive no other idea to be more great ; it is indeed
the case that it is for the most part this will that causes me to
know that in some manner I bear the image and similitude of God.
For although the power of will is incomparably greater in God than
in me, both by reason of the knowledge and the power which,
conjoined with it, render it stronger and more efficacious, and by
reason of its object, inasmuch as in God it extends to a great many
things ; it nevertheless does not seem to me greater if I consider it
formally and precisely in itself : for the faculty of will consists
alone in our having the power of choosing to do a thing or choosing
not to do it (that is, to affirm or deny, to pursue or to shun it), or
rather it consists alone in the fact that in order to affirm or deny,
pursue or shun those things placed before us by the understanding,
we act so that we are unconscious that any outside force constrains
us in doing so. For in order that I should be free it is not necessary
that I should be indifferent as to the choice of one or the other
of two contraries ; but contrariwise the more I lean to the one
whether I recognise clearly that the reasons of the good and
true are to be found in it, or whether God so disposes my inward
thought the more freely do I choose and embrace it. And
undoubtedly both divine grace and natural knowledge, far from
diminishing my liberty, rather increase it and strengthen it. Hence
this indifference which I feel, when I am not swayed to one side
rather than to the other by lack of reason, is the lowest grade of
liberty, and rather evinces a lack or negation in knowledge than a
perfection of will : for if I always recognised clearly what was true
and good, I should never have trouble in deliberating as to what
judgment or choice I should make, and then I should be entirely
free without ever being indifferent.
From all this I recognise that the power of will which I have
received from God is not of itself the source of my errors for it is
very ample and veiy perfect of its kind any more than is the power
of understanding ; for since I understand nothing but by the power
which God has given me for understanding, there is no doubt that
all that I understand, I understand as I ought, and it is not possible
that I err in this. Whence then come my errors? They come
from the sole fact that since the will is much wider in its range
and compass than the understanding, I do not restrain it within the
same bounds, but extend it also to things which I do not under-
176 Meditation IV
stand : and as the will is of itself indifferent to these, it easily falls
into error and sin, and chooses the evil for the good, or the false for
the true.
For example, when I lately examined whether any world existed,
and found that from the very fact that I considered this question it
followed very clearly that I myself existed, I could not prevent
myself from believing that a thing I so clearly conceived was true :
not that I found myself compelled to do so by some external cause,
but simply because from great clearness in my mind there followed
a great inclination of my will ; and I believed this with so much
the greater freedom or spontaneity as I possessed the less indifference
towards it. Now, on the contrary, I not only know that I exist,
inasmuch as I am a thinking thing, but a certain representation of
corporeal nature is also presented to my mind ; and it comes to pass
that I doubt whether this thinking nature which is in me, or rather
by which I am what I am, differs from this corporeal nature, or
whether both are not simply the same thing ; and I here suppose
that I do not yet know any reason to persuade me to adopt the one
belief rather than the other. From this it follows that I am entirely
indifferent as to which of the two I affirm or deny, or even whether
I abstain from forming any judgment in the matter.
And this indifference does not only extend to matters as to
which the understanding has no knowledge, but also in general to
all those which are not apprehended with perfect clearness at the
moment when the will is deliberating upon them : for, however
probable are the conjectures which render me disposed to form. a
judgment respecting anything, the simple knowledge that I have
that those are conjectures alone and not certain and indubitable
reasons, suffices to occasion me to judge the contrary. Of this
I have had great experience of late when I set aside as false all
that I had formerly held to be absolutely true, for the sole reason
that I remarked that it might in some measure be doubted.
But if I abstain from giving my judgment on any thing when
I do not perceive it with sufficient clearness and distinctness, it
is plain that I act rightly and am not deceived. But if 1 determine
to deny or affirm, 1 no longer make use as I should of my free will,
and if I affirm what is not true, it is evident that I deceive myself ;
even though I judge according to truth, this conies about only by
chance, and 1 do not escape the blame of misusing my freedom ; for
the light of nature teaches us that the knowledge of the under-
standing should always precede the determination of the will.
Of the True and the False 177
And it is in the misuse of the free will that the privation which
constitutes the characteristic nature of error is met with. Privation,
I say, is found in the act, in so far as it proceeds from me, but it is
not found in the faculty which I have received from God, nor even
in the act in so far as it depends on Him.
For I have certainly no cause to complain that God has not
given me an intelligence which is more powerful, or a natural light
which is stronger than that which I have received from Him,
since it is proper to the finite understanding not to comprehend a
multitude of things, and it is proper to a created understanding to
he finite ; on the contrary, I have every reason to render thanks to
God who owes me nothing and who has given me all the perfections
I possess, and I should be far from charging Him with injustice, and
with having deprived me of, or wrongfully withheld from me, these
perfections which He has not bestowed upon me.
I have further no reason to complain that He has given me a will
more ample than my understanding, for since the will consists only
of one single element, and is so to speak indivisible, it appears that
its nature is such that nothing can be abstracted from it [without
destroying it] ; and certainly the more comprehensive it is found to
be, the more reason I have to render gratitude to the giver.
And, finally, I must also not complain that God concurs with ine
in forming the acts of the will, that is the judgment in which I go
astray, because these acts are entirely true and good, inasmuch as
they depend on God ; and in a certain sense more perfection accrues
to my nature from the fact that I can form them, than if I could
not do so. x As to the privation in which alone the formal reason of
error or sin consists, it has no need of any concurrence from God,
since it is not a thing [or an existence], and since it is not related
to God as to a cause, but should be termed merely a negation
[according to the significance given to these words in the Schools].
For in fact it is not an imperfection in God that He has -given me
the liberty to give or withhold my assent from certain things as to
which He has not placed a clear and distinct knowledge in my
understanding ; but it is without doubt an imperfection in me not
to make a good use of my freedom, and to give my judgment
readily on matters which I only understand obscurely. I neverthe-
less perceive that God could easily have created me so that I never
should err, although I still remained free, and endowed with a
limited knowledge, viz. by giving to my understanding a clear and
distinct intelligence of all things as to which I should ever have to
178 Meditation IV
deliberate ; or simply by His engraving deeply in my memory the
resolution never to form a judgment on anything without having a
clear and distinct understanding of it, so that 1 could never forget
it. And it is easy for me to understand that, in so far as I consider
myself alone, and as if there were only myself in the world, I should
have been much more perfect than I am, if God had created me so
that I could never err. Nevertheless I cannot deny that in some
sense it is a greater perfection in the whole universe that certain
parts should not be exempt from error as others are than that all
parts should be exactly similar. And I have no right to complain
if God, having placed me in the world, has not called upon me to
play a part that excels all others in distinction and perfection.
And further I have reason to be glad on the ground that if He
has not given me the power of never going astray by the first means
pointed out above, which depends on a clear and evident knowledge
of all the things regarding which I can deliberate, He has at least left
within my power the other means, which is firmly to adhere to the
resolution never to give judgment on matters whose truth is not
clearly known to me ; for although I notice a certain weakness in
my nature in that I cannot continually concentrate my mind on
one single thought, I can yet, by attentive and frequently repeated
meditation, impress it so forcibly on my memory that I shall never
fail to recollect it whenever I have need of it, and thus acquire the
habit of never going astray.
And inasmuch as it is in this that the greatest and principal
perfection of man consists, it seems to me that I have not gained
little by this day's Meditation, since I have discovered the source of
falsity and error. And certainly there can be no other source than that
which I have explained ; for as often as I so restrain my will within
the limits of my knowledge that it forms no judgment except on
matters which are clearly and distinctly represented to it by the
understanding, I can never be deceived; for every clear and distinct
conception 1 is without doubt something, and hence cannot derive
its origin from what is nought, but must of necessity have God as
its author God, I say, who being supremely perfect, cannot be the
cause of any error ; and consequently we must conclude that such
a conception [or such a judgment] is true. Nor have I only
learned to-day what I should avoid in order that I may not err,
but also how I should act in order to arrive at a knowledge of the
1 perceptio.
Of the True and the False 179
truth; for without doubt I shall arrive at this end if I devote my
attention sufficiently to those things which I perfectly understand ;
and if I separate from these that which I only understand confusedly
and with obscurity. To these I shall henceforth diligently give
heed.
Meditation V.
Of the essence of material things, and, again, of God, that He exists.
Many other matters respecting the attributes of God and my
own nature or mind remain for consideration ; but I shall possibly
on another occasion resume the investigation of these. Now (after
first noting what must be done or avoided, in order to arrive at a
knowledge of the truth) my principal task is to endeavour to emerge
from the state of doubt into which I have these last days fallen,
and to see whether nothing certain can be known regarding material
things.
But before examining whether any such objects as I conceive
exist outside of me, I must consider the ideas of them in so far as
they are in my thought, and see which of them are distinct and
which confused.
In the first place, I am able distinctly to imagine that quantity
which philosophers commonly call continuous, or the extension in
length, breadth, or depth, that is in this quantity, or rather in the
object to which it is attributed. Further, I can number in it many
different parts, and attribute to each of its parts many sorts of size,
figure, situation and local movement, and, finally, I can assign to
each of these movements all degrees of duration.
And not only do I know these things with distinctness when
I consider them in general, but, likewise [however little I apply my
attention to the matter], I discover an infinitude of particulars
respecting numbers, figures, movements, and other such things,
whose truth is so manifest, and so well accords with my nature,
that when I begin to discover them, it seems to me that I learn
nothing new, or recollect what I formerly knew that is to say, that
I for the first time perceive things which were already present to
my mind, although I had not as yet applied my mind to them.
And what I here find to be most important is that I discover in
myself an infinitude of ideas of certain things; which cannot be
esteemed as pure negations, although they may possibly have no
180 Meditation V
existence outside of my thought, and which are not framed by me,
although it is within my power either to think or not to think
them, but which possess natures which are true and immutable.
For example, when I imagine a triangle, although there may
nowhere in the world be such a figure outside my thought, or ever
have been, there is nevertheless in this figure a certain determinate
nature, form, or essence, which is immutable and eternal, which
I have not invented, and which in no wise depends on my mind, as
appears from the fact that diverse properties of that triangle can be
demonstrated, viz. that its three angles are equal to two right
angles, that the greatest side is subtended by the greatest angle,
and the like, which now, whether 1 wish it or do not wish it,
I recognise very clearly as pertaining to it, although I never thought
of the matter at all when I imagined a triangle for the first time,
and which therefore cannot be said to have been invented by me.
Nor does the objection hold good that possibly this idea of a
triangle has reached my mind through the medium of my senses,
since I have sometimes seen bodies triangular in shape ; because I can
form in my mind an infinitude of other figures regarding which we
cannot have the least conception of their ever having been objects
of sense, and I can nevertheless demonstrate various properties
pertaining to their nature as well as to that of the triangle, and
these must certainly all be true since I conceive them clearly.
Hence they are something, and not pure negation ; for it is perfectly
clear that all that is true is something, and I have already fully
demonstrated that all that I know clearly is true. And even
although I had not demonstrated this, the nature of my mind is
such that I could not prevent myself from holding them to be true
so long as I conceive them clearly ; and I recollect that even when
I was still strongly attached to the objects of sense, I counted as
the most certain those truths which I conceived clearly as regards
figures, numbers, and the other matters which pertain to arithmetic
and geometry, and, in general, to pure and abstract mathematics.
But now, if just because I can draw the idea of something from
my thought, it follows that all which I know clearly and distinctly
as pertaining to this object does really belong to it, may I not
derive from this an argument demonstrating the existence of God \
It is certain that I no less find the idea of God, that is t<» sty, the
idea of a supremely perfect Being, in me. than that of any figure
or number whatever it is; and 1 do not know any less clearly
and distinctly that an [actual and] eternal existence pertains to
Of God, that He exists 181
this nature than 1 know that all that which I am able to demonstrate
of some figure or number truly pertains to the nature of this figure
or number, and therefore, although all that I concluded in the
preceding Meditations were found to be false, the existence of God
would pass with me as at least as certain as I have ever held the
truths of mathematics (which concern only numbers and figures)
to be.
This indeed is not at first manifest, since it would seem to
present some appearance of being a sophism. For being accustomed
in all other things to make a distinction between existence and
essence, I easily persuade myself that the existence can be separated
from the essence of God, and that we can thus conceive God as not
actually existing. But, nevertheless, when I think of it with more 1/
attention, I clearly see that existence can no more be separated
from the essence of God than can its having its three angles equal
to two right angles be separated from the essence of a [rectilinear]
triangle, or the idea of a mountain from the idea of a valley ; and
so there is not any less repugnance to our conceiving a God (that
is, a Being supremely perfect) to whom existence is lacking (that
is to say, to whom a certain perfection is lacking), than to conceive
of a mountain which has no valley.
But although I cannot really conceive of a God without existence
any more than a mountain without a valley, still from the fact that
I conceive of a mountain with a valley, it does not follow that there
is such a mountain in the world ; similarly although I conceive of
God as possessing existence, it would seem that it does not follow
that there is a God which exists ; for my thought does not impose
any necessity upon things, and just as I may imagine a winged
horse, although no horse with wings exists, so I could perhaps
attribute existence to God, although no God existed.
But a sophism is concealed in this objection ; for from the fact
that I cannot conceive a mountain without a valley, it does not
follow that there is any mountain or any valley in existence, but
only that the mountain and the valley, whether they exist or do
not exist, cannot in any way be separated one from the other.
While from the fact that I cannot conceive God without existence,
it follows that existence is inseparable from Him, and hence that
He really exists ; not that my thought can bring this to pass, or
impose any necessity on things, but, on the contrary, because the
necessity which lies in the thing itself, i.e. the necessity of the
existence of God determines me to think in this way. For it is
182 Meditation V
not within my power to think of God without existence (that is of a
supremely perfect Being devoid of a supreme perfection) though it is
in my power to imagine a horse either with wings or without wings.
And we must not here object that it is in truth necessary for me
to assert that God exists after having presupposed that He possesses
every sort of perfection, since existence is one of these, but that as
a matter of fact my original supposition was not necessary, just as
it is not necessary to consider that all quadrilateral figures can
be inscribed in the circle ; for supposing I thought this, I should
be constrained to admit that the rhombus might be inscribed in the
circle since it is a quadrilateral figure, which, however, is manifestly
false. [We must not, I say, make any such allegations because]
although it is not necessary that I should at any time entertain the
notion of God, nevertheless whenever it happens that I think of a
first and a sovereign Being, and, so to speak, derive the idea of
Him from the storehouse of my mind, it is necessary that I should
attribute to Him every sort of perfection, although I do not get so
far as to enumerate them all, or to apply my mind to each one in
particular. And this necessity suffices to make me conclude (after
having recognised that existence is a perfection) that this first and
sovereign Being really exists ; just as though it is not necessary for
me ever to imagine any triangle, yet, whenever I wish to consider
a rectilinear figure composed only of three angles, it is absolutely
essential that I should attribute to it all those properties which
serve to bring about the conclusion that its three angles are not
greater than two right angles, even although I may not then be
considering this point in particular. But when I consider which
figures are capable of being inscribed in the circle, it is in no wise
necessary that I should think that all quadrilateral figures are of
this number ; on the contrary, I cannot even pretend that this is
the case, as long as I do not desire to accept anything which I cannot
conceive clearly and distinctly. And in consequence there is a
great difference between the false suppositions such as this, and the
true ideas born within me, the first and principal of which is that
of God. For really 1 discern in many ways that this idea is not
something factitious, and depending solely on my thought, but that
it is the image of a true and immutable nature ; first of all, because
I cannot conceive anything but God himself to whose essence
existence [necessarily] pertains ; in the second place because it is
not possible for me to conceive two or more Gods in this same
position ; and, granted that there is one such God who now exists.
Of God, that He exists 183
I see clearly that it is necessary that He should have existed from
all eternity, and that He must exist eternally ; and finally, because
I know an infinitude of other properties in God, none of which
I can either diminish or change.
For the rest, whatever proof or argument 1 avail myself of, we
must always return to the point that it is only those things which
we conceive clearly and distinctly that have the power of persuading
me entirely. And although amongst the matters which I conceive of
in this way, some indeed are manifestly obvious to all, while others
only manifest themselves to those who consider them closely and
examine them attentively ; still, after they have once been discovered,
the latter are not esteemed as any less certain than the former. For
example, in the case of every right-angled triangle, although it does
not so manifestly appear that the square of the base is equal to the
squares of the two other sides as that this base is opposite to the
greatest angle ; still, when this has once been apprehended, we are
just as certain of its truth as of the truth of the other. And as
regards God, if my mind were not pre-occupied with prejudices, and
if my thought did not find itself on all hands diverted by the
continual pressure of sensible things, there would be nothing which
I could know more immediately and more easily than Him. For is
there anything more manifest than that there is a God, that is to
say, a Supreme Being, to whose essence alone existence pertains * ?
And although for a firm grasp of this truth I have need of a
strenuous application of mind, at present I not only feel myself to
be as assured of it as of all that I hold as most certain, but I also
remark that the certainty of all other things depends on it so
absolutely, that without this knowledge it is impossible ever to
know anything perfectly.
For although I am of such a nature that as long as 2 I under-
stand anything very clearly and distinctly, I am naturally impelled
to believe it to be true, yet because I am also of such a nature that
I cannot have my mind constantly fixed on the same object in
order to perceive it clearly, and as I often recollect having formed
a past judgment without at the same time properly recollecting the
reasons that led me to make it, it may happen meanwhile that
other reasons present themselves to me, which would easily cause me
to change my opinion, if I were ignorant of the facts of the existence
1 'In the idea of whom alone necessary or eternal existence is comprised.'
French version.
2 ' From the moment that.' French version.
184 Meditation V
of God, and thus I should have no true and certain knowledge, but
only vague and vacillating opinions. Thus, for example, when I
consider the nature of a [rectilinear] triangle, I who have some
little knowledge of the principles of geometry recognise quite
clearly that the three angles are equal to two right angles, and it
is not possible for me not to believe this so long as I apply my mind
to its demonstration ; but so soon as I abstain from attending to
the proof, although I still recollect having clearly comprehended it,
it may easily occur that 1 come to doubt its truth, if I am
ignorant of there being a God. For I can persuade myself of
having been so constituted by nature that I can easily deceive
myself even in those matters which I believe myself to apprehend
with the greatest evidence and certainty, especially w r hen I recollect
that I have frequently judged matters to be true and certain which
other reasons have afterwards impelled me to judge to be altogether
false.
But after 1 have recognised that there is a God because at the
same time I have also recognised that all things depend upon Him,
and that He is not a deceiver, and from that have inferred that
what I perceive clearly and distinctly cannot fail to be true
although I no longer pay attention to the reasons for which I
have judged this to be true, provided that I recollect having clearly
and distinctly perceived it no contrary reason can be brought
forward which could ever cause me. to doubt of its truth ; and thus
I have a true and certain knowledge of it. And this same know-
ledge extends likewise to all other things which I recollect having
formerly demonstrated, such as the truths of geometry and the
like ; for what can be alleged against them to cause me to place
them in doubt ? Will it be said that my nature is such as to
cause me to be frequently deceived ? But I already know that
I cannot be deceived in the judgment whose grounds I know clearly.
Will it be said that I formerly held many things to be true and
certain which I have afterwards recognised to be false ? But I had
not had any clear and distinct knowledge of these things, and not
as yet knowing the rule whereby I assure myself of the truth, 1 had
been impelled to give my assent from reasons which I have since
recognised to be less strong than I had at the time imagined them
to be. What further objection can then be raised ? That possibly
I am dreaming (an objection I myself made a little while ago), or
that all the thoughts which I now have are no more true than the
phantasies of my dreams ? But even though 1 slept the ease would
Of God, that He exists 185
be the same, for all that is clearly present to my mind is absolutely
true.
And so I very clearly recognise that the certainty and truth of
all knowledge depends alone on the knowledge of the true God, in
so much that, before I knew Him, I could not have a perfect
knowledge of any other thing. And now that I know Him I have
the means of acquiring a perfect knowledge of an infinitude of
, things, not only of those which relate to God Himself and other
intellectual matters, but also of those which pertain to corporeal
nature in so far as it is the object of pure mathematics [which have
no concern with whether it exists or not].
Meditation VI.
Of the Existence of Material Things, and of the real distinction
between the Soul and Body of Man.
Nothing further now remains but to inquire whether material
things exist. And certainly I at least know that these may exist
in so far as they are considered as the objects of pure mathematics,
since in this aspect I perceive them clearly and distinctly. For there
is no doubt that God possesses the power to produce everything
that I am capable of perceiving with distinctness, and I have never
deemed that anything was impossible for Him, unless I found a
contradiction in attempting to conceive it clearly. Further, the
faculty of imagination which I possess, and of which, experience
tells me, I make use when I apply myself to the consideration of
material things, is capable of persuading me of their existence ; for
when I attentively consider what imagination is, I find that it is
nothing but a certain application of the faculty of knowledge to the
body which is immediately present to it, and which therefore exists.
And to render this quite clear, I remark in the first place the
difference that exists between the imagination and pure intellection
[or conception 1 ]. For example, when I imagine a triangle, I do not
conceive it only as a figure comprehended by three lines, but I also
apprehend 2 these three lines as present by the power and inward
vision of my mind 3 , and this is what I call imagining. But if
I desire to think of a chiliagon, I certainly conceive truly that it is
a figure composed of a thousand sides, just as easily as I conceive
1 ' Conception,' French version. ' intellectionem,' Latin
version.
2 intueor. 3 acie mentis.
186 Meditation VI
of a triangle that it is a figure of three sides only ; but I cannot in
any way imagine the thousand sides of a chiliagon [as I do the
three sides of a triangle], nor do I, so to speak, regard them as
present [with the eyes of my mind]. And although in accordance
with the habit I have formed of always employing the aid of my
imagination when I think of corporeal things, it may happen that
in imagining a chiliagon 1 confusedly represent to myself some
figure, yet it is very evident that this figure is not a chiliagon,
since it in no way differs from that which I represent to myself
when I think of a myriagon or any other many-sided figure ; nor
does it serve my purpose in discovering the properties which go to
form the distinction between a chiliagon and other polygons. But
if the question turns upon a pentagon, it is quite true that I can
conceive its figure as well as that of a chiliagon without the help
of my imagination ; but I can also imagine it by applying the
attention of my mind to each of its five sides, and at the same time
to the space which they enclose. And thus I clearly recognise that
I have need of a particular effort of mind in order to effect the act
of imagination, such as I do not require in order to understand,
and this particular effort of mind clearly manifests the difference
which exists between imagination and pure intellection 1 .
I remark besides that this power of imagination which is
in one, inasmuch as it differs from the power of understanding,
is in no wise a necessary element in my nature, or in [my
essence, that is to say, in] the essence of my mind ; N for although
I did not possess it I should doubtless ever remain the same
as I now am, from which it appears that we might conclude
that it depends on something which differs from me. And I easily
conceive that if some body exists with which my mind is conjoined
and united in such a way that it can apply itself to consider it
when it pleases, it may be that by this means it can imagine
corporeal objects ; so that this mode of thinking differs from pure
intellection only inasmuch as mind in its intellectual activity in
some manner turns on itself, and considers some of the ideas which
it possesses in itself; while in imagining it turns towards the body,
and there beholds in it something conformable to the idea which it
has either conceived of itself or perceived by the senses. I easily
understand, I say, that the imagination could be thus constituted
if it is true that body exists ; and because I can discover no other
1 intellectionem.
Of the Existence of Material Things, etc. 187
convenient mode of explaining it, I conjecture with probability that
body does exist; but this is only with probability, and although
I examine all things with care, I nevertheless do not find that from
this distinct idea of corporeal nature, which I have in my imagina-
tion, I can derive any argument from which there will necessarily
be deduced the existence of body.
But I am in the habit of imagining many other things besides
this corporeal nature which is the object of pure mathematics, to
wit, the colours, sounds, scents, pain, and other such things^
although less distinctly. And inasmuch as I perceive these things
much better through the senses, by the medium of which, and
by the memory, they seem to have reached my imagination, I
believe that, in order to examine them more conveniently, it is
right that I should at the same time investigate the nature of
sense perception, and that I should see if from the ideas which
I apprehend by this mode of thought, which I call feeling, I cannot
derive some certain proof of the existence of corporeal objects.
And first of all I shall recall to my memory those matters which
I hitherto held to be true, as having perceived them through the
senses, and the foundations on which my belief has rested ; in the
next place I shall examine the reasons which have since obliged
me to place them in doubt ; in the last place I shall consider
which of them I must now believe.
First of all, then, I perceived that I had a head, hands, feet,
and all other members of which this body which I considered as
a part, or possibly even as the whole, of myself is composed.
Further I was sensible that this body was placed amidst many
others, from which it was capable of being affected in many different
ways, beneficial and hurtful, and I remarked that a certain feeling
of pleasure accompanied those that were beneficial, and pain those
which were harmful. And in addition to this pleasure and pain,
I also experienced hunger, thirst, and other similar appetites, as
also certain corporeal inclinations towards joy, sadness, anger, and
other similar passions. And outside myself, in addition to extension,
figure, and motions of bodies, I remarked in them hardness, heat,
and all other tactile qualities, and, further, light and colour, and
scents and sounds, the variety of which gave me the means of
distinguishing the sky, the earth, the sea, and generally all the
other bodies, one from the other. And certainly, considering the
ideas of all these qualities which presented themselves to my mind,
and which alone I perceived properly or immediately, it was not
188 Meditation VI
without reason that I believed myself to perceive objects quite
different from my thought, to wit, bodies from which those ideas
proceeded ; {or I found by experience that these ideas presented
themselves to me without my consent being requisite, so that
I could not perceive any object, however desirous I might be, unless
it were present to the organs of sense ; and it was not in my power
not to perceive it, when it was present. And because the ideas
which I received through the senses were much more lively, more
clear, and even, in their own way, more distinct than any of those
which I could of myself frame in meditation, or than those I found
impressed on my memory, it appeared as though they could not have
proceeded from my mind, so that they must necessarily have been
produced in me by some other things. And having no knowledge
of those objects excepting the knowledge which the ideas themselves
gave me, nothing was more likely to occur to my mind than that
the objects were similar to the ideas which were caused. And
because I likewise remembered that I had formerly made use of my
senses rather than my reason, and recognised that the ideas which
I formed of myself were not so distinct as those which I perceived
through the senses, and that they were most frequently even
composed of portions of these last, I persuaded myself easily that
I had no idea in my mind which had not formerly come to me
through the senses. Nor was it without some reason that I believed
that this body (which by a certain special right I call my own)
belonged to me more properly and more strictly than any other ;
for in fact I could never be separated from it as from other bodies ;
I experienced in it and on account of it all my appetites and
affections, and finally I was touched by the feeling of pain and the
titillation of pleasure in its parts, and not in the parts of other bodies
which were separated from it. But when I inquired, why, from
some, I know not what, painful sensation, there follows sadness of
mind, and from the pleasurable sensation there arises joy, or
why this mysterious emotion of the stomach which I call hunger
causes me to desire to eat, and dryness of throat causes a desire to
drink, and so on, I could give no reason excepting that nature
taught me so ; for there is certainly no affinity (that I at least can
understand) between the craving of the stomach and the desire to
eat, any more than between the perception of whatever causes pain
and the thought of sadness which arises from this perception. And
in the same way it appeared to me that I had learned from nature
all the other judgments which 1 formed regarding the objects of my
Of the Existence of Material Things^ etc. 189
senses, since I remarked that these judgments were formed in me
before I had the leisure to weigh and consider any reasons which
might oblige me to make them.
But afterwards many experiences little by little destroyed all
the faith which I had rested in my senses ; for I from time to time
observed that those towers which from afar appeared to me to be
round, more closely observed seemed square, and that colossal
statues raised on the summit of these towers, appeared as quite
tiny statues when viewed from the bottom ; and so in an infinitude
of other cases I found error in judgments founded on the external
senses. And not only in those founded on the external senses, but
even in those founded on the internal as well ; for is there anything
more intimate or more internal than pain ? And yet I have learned
from some persons whose arms or legs have been cut off, that they
sometimes seemed to feel pain in the part which had been amputated,
which made me think that I could not be quite certain that it was
a certain member which pained me, even although I felt pain in it.
And to those grounds of doubt I have lately added two others,
which are very general the first is that I never have believed
myself to feel anything in waking moments which I cannot also
sometimes believe myself to feel when I sleep, and as I do not
think that these things which I seem to feel in sleep, proceed from
objects outside of me, I do not see any reason why I should have
this belief regarding objects which I seem to perceive while awake.
The other was that being still ignorant, or rather supposing myself
to be ignorant, of the author of my being, I saw nothing to prevent
me from having been so constituted by nature that I might be
deceived eyen in matters which seemed to me to be most certain.
And as to the grounds on which I was formerly persuaded of the
truth of sensible objects, I had not much trouble in replying to them.
For since nature seemed to cause me to lean towards many things
from which reason repelled me, I did not believe that I should trust
much to the teachings of nature. And although the ideas which
I receive by the senses do not depend on my will, I did not think
that one should for that reason conclude that they proceeded from
things different from myself, since possibly some faculty might be
discovered in me though hitherto unknown to me which produced
them.
But now that I begin to know myself better, and to discover
more clearly the author of my being, I do not in truth think that
I should rashly admit all the matters which the senses seem to
190 Meditation VI
teach us, but, on the other hand, I do not think that I should
doubt them all universally.
And first of all, because I know that all things which I apprehend
clearly and distinctly can be created by God as I apprehend them,
it suffices that I am able to apprehend one thing apart from another
clearly and distinctly in order to be certain that the one is different
from the other, since they may be made to exist in separation at
least by the omnipotence of God ; and it does not signify by what
power this separation is made in order to compel me to judge them
to be different : and, therefore, just because I know certainly that
I exist, and that meanwhile I do not remark that any other thing
necessarily pertains to my nature or essence, excepting that I am a
thinking thing, I rightly conclude that my essence consists solely
in the fact that I am a thinking thing [or a substance whose whole
essence or nature is to think]. And although possibly (or rather
certainly, as I shall say in a moment) I possess a body with which
I am very intimately conjoined, yet because, on the one side, I have
a clear and distinct idea of myself inasmuch as I am only a thinking
and unextended thing, and as, on the other, I possess a distinct
idea of body, inasmuch as it is only an extended and unthinking
thing, it is certain that this I [that is to say, my soul by which
I am what I am], is entirely and absolutely distinct from my body,
and can exist without it.
I further find in myself faculties employing modes of thinking
peculiar to themselves, to wit, the faculties of imagination and
feeling, without which I can easily conceive myself clearly and dis-
tinctly as a complete being ; while, on the other hand, they cannot
be so conceived apart from me, that is without an intelligent
substance in which they reside, for [in the notion we have of these
faculties, or, to use the language of the Schools] in their formal
concept, some kind of intellection is comprised, from which I infer
that they are distinct from me as its modes are from a thing.
I observe also in me some other faculties such as that of change
of position, the assumption of different figures and such like,
which cannot be conceived, any more than can the preceding,
apart from some substance to which they are attached, and con-
sequently cannot exist without it ; but it is very clear that these
faculties, if it he true that they exist, must be attached to some
corporeal or extended substance, and not to an intelligent sub-
stance, since in the clear and distinct conception of these there is
some sort of extension found to be present, but no intellection at all.
Of the Existence of Material Things, etc. l9l
There is certainly further in me a certain passive faculty of per-
ception, that is, of receiving and recognising the ideas of sensible
things, but this would be useless to me [and I could in no way
avail myself of it], if there were not either in me or in some other
thing another active faculty capable of forming and producing
these ideas. But this active faculty cannot exist in me [inasmuch
as I am a thing that thinks] seeing that it does not presuppose
thought, and also that those ideas are often produced in me without
my contributing in any way to the same, and often even against my
will ; it is thus necessarily the case that the faculty resides in some
substance different from me in which all the reality which is
objectively in the ideas that are produced by this faculty is formally
or eminently contained, as I remarked before. And this substance
is either a body, that is, a corporeal nature in which there is
contained formally [and really] all that which is objectively [and
by representation] in those ideas, or it is God Himself, or some
other creature more noble than body in which that same is contained
eminently. But, since God is no deceiver, it is very manifest that
He does not communicate to me these ideas immediately and by
Himself, nor yet by the intervention of some creature in which
their reality is not formally, but only eminently, contained. For
since He has given me no faculty to recognise that this is the case,
but, on the other hand, a very great inclination to believe [that
they are sent to me or] that they are conveyed to me by corporeal
objects, I do not see how He could be defended from the accusation
of deceit if these ideas were produced by causes other than corporeal
objects. Hence we must allow that corporeal things exist. How-
ever, they are perhaps not exactly what we perceive by the senses,
since this comprehension by the senses is in many instances very
obscure and confused ; but we must at least admit that all things
which I conceive in them clearly and distinctly, that is to say, all
things which, speaking generally, are comprehended in the object of
pure mathematics, are truly to be recognised as external objects.
As to other things, however, which are either particular only,
as, for example, that the sun is of such and such a figure, etc., or
which are less clearly and distinctly conceived, such as light, sound,
pain and the like, it is certain that although they are very dubious
and uncertain, yet on the sole ground that God is not a deceiver,
and that consequently He has not permitted any falsity to exist in
my opinion which He has not likewise given me the faculty of
correcting, I may assuredly hope to conclude that I have within
192 Meditation VI
me the means of arriving at the truth even here. And first of all
there is no doubt that in all things which nature teaches me there
is some truth contained ; for by nature, considered in general,
I now understand no other thing than either God Himself or else
the order and disposition which God has established in created
things; and by my nature in particular I understand no other thing
than the complexus of all the things which God has given me.
But there is nothing which this nature teaches me more expressly
[nor more sensibly] than that I have a body which is adversely
affected when I feel pain, which has need of food or drink when
I experience the feelings of hunger and thirst, and so on ; nor can
I doubt there being some truth in all this.
Nature also teaches me by these sensations of pain, hunger,
thirst, etc., that I am not only lodged in my body as a pilot in a
vessel, but that I am very closely united to it, and so to speak so
intermingled with it that I seem to compose with it one whole.
For if that were not the case, when my body is hurt, I, who am
merely a thinking thing, should not feel pain, for I should perceive
this wound by the understanding only, just as the sailor perceives
by sight when something is damaged in his vessel ; and when my
body has need of drink or food, I should clearly understand the
fact without being warned of it by confused feelings of hunger and
thirst. For all these sensations of hunger, thirst, pain, etc. are in
truth none other than certain confused modes of thought which
are produced by the union and apparent intermingling of mind
and body.
Moreover, nature teaches me that many other bodies exist
around mine, of which some are to be avoided, and others sought
after. And certainly from the fact that I am sensible of different
sorts of colours, sounds, scents, tastes, heat, hardness, etc., I very
easily conclude that there are in the bodies from which all
these diverse sense-perceptions proceed certain variations which
answer to them, although possibly these are not really at all similar
to them. And also from the fact that amongst these different sense-
perceptions some are very agreeable to me and others disagreeable,
it is quite certain that my body (or rather myself in my entirety,
inasmuch as I am formed of body and soul) may receive different
impressions agreeable and disagreeable from the other bodies which
surround it.
But there are many other things which nature seems to have
taught me, but which at the same time I have never really received
Of the Existence of Material Things, etc. 193
from her, but which have been brought about in my mind by a
certain habit which I have of forming inconsiderate judgments on
things; and thus it may easily happen that these judgments contain
some error. Take, for example, the opinion which I hold that
all space in which there is nothing that affects [or makes an
impression on] my senses is void ; that in a body which is warm
there is something entirely similar to the idea of heat which is in
me ; that in a white or green body there is the same whiteness or
greenness that I perceive ; that in a bitter or sweet body there is
the same taste, and so on in other instances ; that the stars, the
towers, and all other distant bodies are of the same figure and size
as they appear from far off to our eyes, etc. But in order that in
this there should be nothing which I do not conceive distinctly,
I should define exactly what I really understand when I say that
I am taught somewhat by nature. For here I take nature in a
more limited signification than when I term it the sum of all the
things given me by God, since in this sum many things are com-
prehended which only pertain to mind (and to these I do not refer
in speaking of nature) such as the notion which I have of the fact
that what has once been done cannot ever be undone and an
infinitude of such things which I know by the light of nature
[without the help of the body]; and seeing that it comprehends
many other matters besides which only pertain to body, and are no
longer here contained under the name of nature, such as the quality
of weight which it possesses and the like, with which I also do
not deal ; for in talking of nature I only treat of those things given
by God to me as a being composed of mind and body. But the
nature here described truly teaches me to flee from things which
cause the sensation of pain, and seek after the things which
communicate to me the sentiment of pleasure and so forth ; but
I do not see that beyond this it teaches me that from those diverse
sense-perceptions we should ever form any conclusion regarding
things outside of us, without having [carefully and maturely]
mentally examined them beforehand. For it seems to me that_
it is mind alone, and not mind and body in conjunction, that is
requisite to a knowledge of the truth in regard to such things.
Thus, although a star makes no larger an impression on my eye
than the flame of a little candle there is yet in me no real or
positive propensity impelling me to believe that it is not greater
than that flame ; but I have judged it to be so from my earliest
years, without any rational foundation. And although in approach-
194 Meditation VI
ing fire I feel heat, and in approaching it a little too near I even
feel pain, there is at the same time no reason in this which could
persuade me that there is in the fire something resembling this heat
any more than there is in the pain something resembling it ; all
that I have any reason to believe from this is, that there is some-
thing in it, whatever it may be, which excites in me these sensations
of heat or of pain. So also, although there are spaces in which
I find nothing which excites my senses, I must not from that
conclude that these spaces contain no body ; for I see in this, as in
other similar things, that I have been in the habit of perverting the
order of nature, because these perceptions of sense having been
placed within me by nature merely for the purpose of signifying to
my mind what things are beneficial or hurtful to the composite
whole of which it forms a part, and being up to that point sufficiently
clear and distinct, I yet avail myself of them as though they were
absolute rules by which I might immediately determine the essence
of the bodies which are outside me, as to which, in fact, they can
teach me nothing but what is most obscure and confused.
But I have already sufficiently considered how, notwithstanding
the supreme goodness of God, falsity enters into the judgments
I make. Only here a new difficulty is presented one respecting
those things the pursuit or avoidance of which is taught me by
nature, and also respecting the internal sensations which I possess,
and in which I seem to have sometimes detected error [and thus to
be directly deceived by my own nature]. To take an example,
the agreeable taste of some food in which poison has been inter-
mingled may induce me to partake of the poison, and thus
deceive me. It is true, at the same time, that in this case nature
may be excused, for it only induces me to desire food in which
I find a pleasant taste, and not to desire the poison which is
unknown to it ; and thus I can infer nothing from this fact,
except that my nature is not omniscient, at which there is cer-
tainly no reason to be astonished, since man, being finite in nature,
can only have knowledge the perfectness of which is limited.
But we not unfrequently deceive ourselves even in those things
to which we are directly impelled by nature, as happens with those
who when they are sick desire to drink or eat things hurtful to
them. It will perhaps be said here that the cause of their decep-
tiveness is that their nature is corrupt, but that does not remove the
difficulty, because a sick man is none the less truly God's creature
than he who is in health ; and it is therefore as repugnant to God's
Of the Existence of Material Things, etc. 195
goodness for the one to have a deceitful nature as it is for the other.
And as a clock composed of wheels and counter-weights no less
exactly observes the laws of nature when it is badly made, and
does not show the time properly, than when it entirely satisfies the
wishes of its maker, and as, if I consider the body of a man as
being a sort of machine so built up and composed of nerves, muscles,
veins, blood and skin, that though there were no mind in it at all,
it would not cease to have the same motions as at present, exception
being made of those movements which are due to the direction of
the will, and in consequence depend upon the mind [as opposed to
those which operate by the disposition of its organs], I easily
recognise that it would be as natural to this body, supposing it to
be, for example, dropsical, to suffer the parchedness of the throat
which usually signifies to the mind the feeling of thirst, and to be
disposed by this parched feeling to move the nerves and other parts
in the way requisite for drinking, and thus to augment its malady
and do harm to itself, as it is natural to it, when it has no indis-
position, to be impelled to drink for its good by a similar cause.
And although, considering the use to which the clock has been
destined by its maker, I may say that it deflects from the order of
its nature when it does not indicate the hours correctly ; and as, in
the same way, considering the machine of the human body as
having been formed by God in order to have in itself all the move-
ments usually manifested there, I have reason for thinking that it
does not follow the order of nature when, if the throat is dry,
drinking does harm to the conservation of health, nevertheless I
recognise at the same time that this last mode of explaining nature
is very different from the other. For this is but a purely verbal
characterisation depending entirely on my thought, which compares
a sick man and a badly constructed clock with the idea which
I have of a healthy man and a well made clock, and it is hence
extrinsic to the things to which it is applied ; but according to the
other interpretation of the term nature I understand something
which is truly found in things and which is therefore not without
some truth.
But certainly although in regard to the dropsical body it is only
so to speak to apply an extrinsic term when we say that its nature is
corrupted, inasmuch as apart from the need to drink, the throat
is parched ; yet in regard to the composite whole, that is to say, to
the mind or soul united to this body, it is not a purely verbal
predicate, but a real error of nature, for it to have thirst when
196 Meditation VI
drinking would be hurtful to it. And thus it still remains to
inquire how the goodness of God does not prevent the nature of
man so regarded from being fallacious.
In order to begin this examination, then, I here say, in the first
place, that there is a great difference between mind and body,
inasmuch as body is by nature always divisible, and the mind is
entirely indivisible. For, as a matter of fact, when I consider the
mind, that is to say, myself inasmuch as I am only a thinking thing,
I cannot distinguish in myself any parts, but apprehend myself to
be clearly one and entire ; and although the whole mind seems to
be united to the whole body, yet if a foot, or an arm, or some other
part, is separated from my body, I am aware that nothing has been
taken away from my mind. And the faculties of willing, feeling,
conceiving, etc. cannot be properly speaking said to be its parts, for
it is one and the same mind which employs itself in willing and in
feeling and understanding. But it is quite otherwise with corporeal
or extended objects, for there is not one of these imaginable by me
which my mind cannot easily divide into parts, and which conse-
quently I do not recognise as being divisible ; this would be sufficient
to teach me that the mind or soul of man is entirely different from
the body, if I had not already learned it from other sources.
I further notice that the mind does not receive the impressions
from all parts of the body immediately, but only from the brain, or
perhaps even from one of its smallest parts, to wit, from that in which
the common sense 1 is said to reside, which, whenever it is disposed
in the same particular way, conveys the same thing to the mind,
although meanwhile the other portions of the body may be differently
disposed, as is testified by innumerable experiments which it is
unnecessary here to recount.
I notice, also, that the nature of body is such that none of its
parts can be moved by another part a little way off which cannot
also be moved in the same way by each one of the parts which are
between the two, although this more remote part does not act at
all. As, for example, in the cord A BCD [which is in tension] if
we pull the last part D, the first part A will not be moved in any
way differently from what would be the case if one of the intervening
parts B or C were pulled, and the last part D were to remain
unmoved. And in the same way, when I feel pain in my foot, my
knowledge of physics teaches me that this sensation is communi-
cated by means of nerves dispersed through the foot, which, being
1 sensus communis.
Of the Existence of Material Things, etc. 197
extended like cords from there to the brain, when they are contracted
in the foot, at the same time contract the inmost portions of the
brain which is their extremity and place of origin, and then excite
a certain movement which nature has established in order to cause
the mind to be affected by a sensation of pain represented as existing
in the foot. But because these nerves must pass through the tibia,
the thigh, the loins, the back and the neck, in order to reach from
the leg to the brain, it may happen that although their extremities
which are in the foot are not affected, but only certain ones of their
intervening parts [which pass by the loins or the neck], this action
will excite the same movement in the brain that might have been
excited there by a hurt received in the foot, in consequence of
which the mind will necessarily feel in the foot the same pain as if
it had received a hurt. And the same holds good of all the other
perceptions of our senses.
I notice finally that since each of the movements which are in
the portion of the brain by which the mind is immediately affected
brings about one particular sensation only, we cannot under the cir-
cumstances imagine anything more likely than that this movement,
amongst all the sensations which it is capable of impressing on it,
causes mind to be affected by that one which is best fitted and
most generally useful for the conservation of the human body when
it is in health. But experience makes us aware that all the feelings
with which nature inspires us are such as I have just spoken of;
and there is therefore nothing in them which does not give testimony
to the power and goodness of the God [who has produced them 1 ].
Thus, for example, when the nerves which are in the feet are
violently or more than usually moved, their movement, passing
through the medulla of the spine 2 to the inmost parts of the brain,
gives a sign to the mind which makes it feel somewhat, to wit, pain,
as though in the foot, by which the mind is excited to do its utmost
to remove the cause of the evil as dangerous and hurtful to the
foot. It is true that God could have constituted the nature of man
in such a way that this same movement in the brain would have
conveyed something quite different to the mind ; for example, it
might have produced consciousness of itself either in so far as it is
in the brain, or as it is in the foot, or as it is in some other place
between the foot and the brain, or it might finally have produced
consciousness of anything else whatsoever; but none of all this would
have contributed so well to the conservation of the body. Similarly,
1 Latin version only. 2 spini dorsae medullam.
198 Meditation VI
when we desire to drink, a certain dryness of the throat is pro-
duced which moves its nerves, and by their means the internal
portions of the brain ; and this movement causes in the mind the
sensation of thirst, because in this case there is nothing more
useful to us than to become aware that we have need to drink for
the conservation of our health ; and the same holds good in other
instances.
From this it is quite clear that, notwithstanding the supreme
goodness of God, the nature of man, inasmuch as it is composed of
mind and body, cannot be otherwise than sometimes a source of
deception. For if there is any cause which excites, not in the foot
but in some part of the nerves which are extended between the
foot and the brain, or even in the brain itself, the same movement
which usually is produced when the foot is detrimentally affected,
pain will be experienced as though it were in the foot, and the
sense will thus naturally be deceived ; for since the same movement
in the brain is capable of causing but one sensation in the mind,
and this sensation is much more frequently excited by a cause
which hurts the foot than by another existing in some other quarter,
it is reasonable that it should convey to the mind pain in the foot
rather than in any other part of the body. And although the
parchedness of the throat does not always proceed, as it usually
does, from the fact that drinking is essential for the health of the
body, but sometimes comes from quite a different cause, as is the
case with dropsical patients, it is yet much better that it should
mislead on this occasion than if, on the other hand, it were always to
deceive us when the body is in good health ; and so on in similar
cases.
And certainly this consideration is of great service to me, not
only in enabling me to recognise all the errors to which my nature is
subject, but also in enabling me to avoid them or to correct them
more easily. For knowing that all my senses more frequently
indicate to me truth than falsehood respecting the things which
concern that which is beneficial to the body, and being able almost
always to avail myself of many of them in order to examine one
particular thing, and, besides that, being able to make use of my
memory in order to connect the present with the past, and of
my understanding which already has discovered all the causes of
my errors, I ought no longer to fear that falsity may be found in
matters every day presented to me by my senses. And I ought
to set aside all the doubts of these past days as hyperbolical and
Of the Existence of Material Things, etc. 199
ridiculous, particularly that very common uncertainty respecting
sleep, which I could not distinguish from the waking state ; for at
present I find a very notable difference between the two, inasmuch
as our memory can never connect our dreams one with the other, or
with the whole course of our lives, as it unites events which happen
to us while we are awake. And, as a matter of fact, if someone,
while I was awake, quite suddenly appeared to me and disappeared
as fast as do the images which I see in sleep, so that I could not
know from whence the form came nor whither it went, it would
not be without reason that I should deem it a spectre or a phantom
formed by my brain [and similar to those which I form in sleep],
rather than a real man. But when I perceive things as to which
I know distinctly both the place from which they proceed, and that
in which they are, and the time at which they appeared to me ; and
when, without any interruption, I can connect the perceptions
which I have of them with the whole course of my life, I am
perfectly assured that these perceptions occur while I am waking
and not during sleep. And I ought in no wise, to doubt the truth
of such matters, if, after having called up all my senses, my memory,
and my understanding, to examine them, nothing is brought to
evidence by any one of them which is repugnant to what is set
forth by the others. For because God is in no wise a deceiver, it
follows that I am not deceived in this. But because the exigencies
of action often oblige us to make up our minds before having
leisure to examine matters carefully, we must confess that the life
of man is very frequently subject to error in respect to individual
objects, and we must in the end acknowledge the infirmity of our
nature.
END
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