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. (Note
1)
And
in the little that I have just said, I think I
have summed up all that I really know, or at least
all that hitherto I was aware that I knew. (Note
2) 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 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 perceive15 very
clearly and very distinctly are true. (Note
3) 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. (Note 4)
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 is 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 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. (Note 5)
And, certainly, since I have
no reason to believe that there is a God who is a
deceiver, and as I 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. (Note 6)
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,16 yet
by this action I always add something else to the
idea17 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 that 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. (Note
7) Thus there remains no more than the
judgments which we make, in which I must take the
greatest care not o 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. (Note
8)
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.
Incidentally
(though I shall not hold forth on this point),
Descartes should have realized that this does
create a problem for his criterion of truth as
'clear and evident': If Descartes exists because
Descartes thinks it is clear and evident he does,
then why doesn't the heat exist that he feels,
that clearly and evidently does not depend on his
thoughts or wishes?
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. (Note 9) 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. (Note 10)
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 (Note 11),
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
falsehood, 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. (Note 12)
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
find it any the more convincing. For just as these
impulses of which I have spoken are found in me,
notwithstanding 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. (Note 13)
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. I 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. (Note 14)
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]. (Note 15)
But there is yet another method of
inquiring whether any of the objects of which I
have ideas within me exist outside of me. (Note 16)
If ideas are only taken as certain modes of thought,
I recognise 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. (Note 17)
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. (Note 18)
For, pray, whence can the effect derive its reality,
if not from its cause? 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. (Note 19) 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] (Note 20)
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 I
conceive to exist in the heat or the stone.
(Note 21)
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 [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. (Note 22)
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 tot he 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].
(Note 23)
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. (Note 24)
And the longer and the
more carefully that I 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. (Note 25)
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. (Note 26)
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]. (Note 27)
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 ideas 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. (Note 28)
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 so far as something is lacking
to the perfection of my nature. (Note 29)
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.
Here
occurs again this mysterious 'light of nature',
that seems to suggest to Descartes the sort of
things I cannot agree to: Surely, one's false
ideas have reasons and causes like one's true
ideas? And surely, that an idea lacks reality does
not entail it arises from some sort of lack?
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 an 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. (Note 30)
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. (Note 31)
Hence
there remains only the idea of God, concerning
which we must consider whether it is something
which cannot have proceeded from me myself. By the
name God I understand a substance that is infinite
[eternal, immutable], independent, all-knowing,
all-powerful, and by which I 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. (Note 32)
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. (Note 33)
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
then 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? (Note 34)
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, (Note 35)
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. (Note 36)
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
comprehend 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; (Note 37)
and it is sufficient that I should understand this,
and that I should judge that all things which I
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. (Note 38)
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. (Note 39)
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. (Note 40)
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
recollect the reason why the idea that I possess
of a being more perfect then 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. (Note 41)
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.
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. (Note 42)
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 I am ignorant, and which are only the
accidents of this thinking substance. 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: (Note 43)
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 I possess) since I should
discover in them that my powers were limited.
But though I assume
that perhaps I have always existed just as I 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 I was in
existence a short time ago it does not follow that I
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 conservation is solely a distinction of the
reason. (Note 44)
All that I thus require
here is that I should interrogate myself, 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. (Note 45)
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; (Note 46)
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. (Note 47)
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. (Note 48)
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. (Note 49)
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 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]. (Note 50)
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. (Note 51)
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, (Note 52)
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. (Note 53)
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
something [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. (Note 54)
And the whole strength of the
argument which I have 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 -- (Note 55)
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. (Note 56)
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.
last update: Jun 19 2003