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. (Note
1)
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. (Note 2)
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. (Note 3)
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. (Note
4)
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 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 (Note
5) , 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 I 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. (Note
6)
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? (Note
7) It is certain that I no less find the idea
of God, that is to say, the idea of a supremely
perfect Being, in me, than that of any figure or
number whatever it is; and I do not know any less
clearly and distinctly that an [actual and] eternal
existence pertains to this nature than I 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. (Note 8)
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. (Note 9)
But, nevertheless, when I
think of it with more 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. (Note 10)
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. (Note 11)
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 (Note 12) ;
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 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. (Note
13)
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 (Note
14) , 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 (Note
15) , 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, so 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 I 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 (Note 16) ;
and, granted that there is one such God who now
exists, 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 I 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. (Note 17)
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. (Note
18) 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?21
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. (Note
19)
For although I am of
such a nature that as long as22 I
understand 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 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 I 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 when 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 I 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. (Note
20) And this same knowledge 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, I 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 I slept the case would be
the same, for all that is clearly present to my
mind is absolutely true. (Note 21)
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]. (Note
22)
last update: Jun 19 2003