Part 2

2 _Doubt._ Wherefore let us suppose our selves _asleep_, and that these things are not _true_, viz. that we open our eyes, move our heads, stretch our hands, and perhaps that we have no such things as hands or a body. Yet we must confess, that what we see in a Dream is (as it were) _a painted Picture_, which cannot be devised but after the _likeness_ of some _real_ thing; and that therefore these Generals at least, _viz._ eyes, head, hands, and the whole body are things _really existent_ and not _imaginary_; For Painters themselves, (even then when they design Mermaids and Satyrs in the most unusual shapes) do not give them natures altogether new, but only add the divers Parts of different Animals together; And if by chance they invent any thing so new that nothing was ever seen like it, for that ’tis wholy fictitious and false, yet the colours at least of which, they make it must be _true Colours_; so upon the same account, tho these General things as eyes, head, hands, _&c._ may be imaginary; yet nevertheless we must of necessity confess the more _simple_ and _universal_ things to be _True_, of which (as of true Colours) these _Images_ of things (whether _true_ or _false_) which are in our minds are made; such as are the nature of a body in General, and its Extension, also the shape of things extended, with the quantity or bigness of them; their number also, and place wherein they are, the time in which they continue, and the like, and therefore from hence we make no bad conclusion, that _Physick_, both _Natural_, and _Medicinal_, _Astronomy_, and all other _sciences_, which depend on the consideration of _compound things_, are _Doubtful_. But that _Arithmetick_, _Geometry_, and the like (which treat only of the most _simple_, and _General_ things not regarding whether they really are or not) have in them something _certain_ and _undoubted_; for whether I sleep or wake, _two_ and _three_ added make five; a _square_ has no more sides than _four_ _&c._ neither seems it possible what such _plain truths_ can be _doubted_ off.

2 _Solution._ But all this While there is rooted in my mind a certain old opinion of the _being_ of an _Omnipotent God_, by whom I am _created_ in the state I am in; and how know I but he caused that there should be no Earth, no Heaven, no Body, no Figure, no Magnitude, no Place, and yet that all these things should seem to me to be as now they are? And as I very often judge others to Erre about those things which they think they _Throughly understand_, so why may not I be _deceived_, whenever I add _two_ and _three_, or count the sides of a Square, or whatever other easy Matter can be thought of?

3. _Doubt_. But perhaps _God wills not_ that I should be _deceived_, for he is said to be _Infinitely Good_.

3. _Solution._ Yet if it were _Repugnant_ to his _Goodness_ to create me so that I should be _always deceived_, it seems also _unagreeable_ to his _Goodness_ to permit me to be deceived _at any time_; Which last no one will affirme: Some there are truely who had rather deny _Gods Omnipotence_, then beleive all things _uncertain_; but there at present we may not contradict. And we will suppose all this of _God_ to be _false_; yet whether they will suppose me to become what _I_ am by Fate, by _Chance_, by a _continued chain_ of _causes_, or any other way, because to _erre_ is an _Imperfection_, by how much the less _power_ they will Assigne to the _Author_ of my _Being_, so much the more Probable it will be, that I am so _Imperfect_ as to be _alwayes deceived_.

To which Arguments I know not what to answer but am forced to confess, that there is nothing of all those things which I formerly received as _Truths_, whereof at present I may not _doubt_; and this doubt shall not be grounded on inadvertency or Levity, but upon strong and Premeditated reasons; and therefore I must hereafter (if I designe to discover any truths) withdraw my assent from them no less then from _apparent falshoods_.

But ’tis not sufficient to think only _Transiently_ on these things, but I must take care to _remember_ them; for dayly my old opinions returne upon me, and much against my Will almost possesse my Beleife tyed to them, as it were by a continued _use_ and _Right_ of _Familiarity_; neither shall I ever cease to _assent_ and _trust_ in them, whilst I suppose them as in themselves they really are, that is to say, _something doubtful_ (as now I have proved) yet notwithstanding _highly Probable_, which it is much more Reasonable to beleive then disbeleive.

Wherefore I conceive I should not do amiss, if (with my mind bent clearly to the contrary side) I should deceive my self, and suppose them for a While altogether _false_ and _Imaginary_; till at length the Weights of prejudice being equal in each scale, no ill custome may any more Draw my Judgement from the _true Conception_ of things, for I know from hence will follow no dangerous Error, and I can’t too immoderately pamper my own Incredulity, seeing What I am about, concernes not _Practice_ but _Speculation_.

To Which end I will suppose, not an _Infinitely perfect God_, the _Fountain_ of _truth_, but that some _Evil Spirit_ which is very _Powerful_ and _crafty_ has used all his endeavours to _deceive_ me; I will conceive, the Heavens, Air, Earth, Colours, Figures, Sounds, and all outward things are nothing else but the delusions of Dreams, by which he has laid snares to catch my easy beleif; I will consider my self as not having hands, Eyes, Flesh, Blood, or Sences, but that _I_ falsely think that _I_ have all these; _I_ will continue firmly in this Meditation; and tho it lyes not in my power to _discover any truth_, yet this is in my power, not to _assent to Falsities_, and with a strong resolution take care that the _Mighty deceiver_ (tho never so _powerful_ or _cunning_) impose not any thing on my beleife.

But this is a laborious intention, and a certain sloth reduces me to the usual course of life, and like a Prisoner who in his sleep perhaps enjoy’d an imaginary liberty, and when he begins to suppose that he is asleep is afraid to waken, but is willing to be deceived by the _Pleasant delusion_; so I willingly fall into my opinions, and am afraid to be Roused, least a toilsome waking succeeding a pleasant rest I may hereafter live not in the _light_, but in the confused _darkness_ of the _doubts_ now raised.

MEDITAT. II.

_~Of the nature of Mans mind~, and that ’tis easier proved to ~be~ then our ~body~._

By yesterdays Meditation I am cast into so great _Doubts_, that I shall never forget them, and yet I know not how to answer them, but being plunged on a suddain into a deep Gulf, I am so amazed that I can neither touch the bottome, nor swim at the top.

Nevertheless, I will endeavour once more, and try the way I set on yesterday, by removing from me whatever is in the _least doubtful_, as if I had certainly discover’d it to be _altogether false_, and will proceed till I find out some _certainty_, or if nothing else, yet at least this _certainty, That there is nothing sure_.

_Archimedes_ required but a _point_ which was _firm_, and _immoveable_ that he might move the _whole Earth_, so in the perfect undertaking Great things may be expected, if I can discover but the _least thing_ that is _true_ and _indisputable_.

Wherefore I suppose all things I see are _false_, and believe that nothing of those things are really existent, which my deceitful memory represents to me; ’tis evident I have no senses, that a Body, Figure, Extension, Motion, Place, _&c._ are meer Fictions; what thing therefore is there that is _true_? perhaps only _this, That there is nothing certain._

[Sidenote: _Doubts and Solutions._]

But how know I that there is nothing _distinct_ from all these things (which I have now reckon’d) of which I have no reason to _doubt_? Is there no _God_ (or whatever other name I may call him) who has put these thoughts into me? Yet why should I think this? When I my self perhaps am the _Author_ of them. Upon which Account, therefore must not I be something? ’tis but just now that I denied that I had any _senses_, or any _Body_. Hold a while—Am I so tied to a _Body_ and _senses_ that I cannot _exist_ without them? But I have perswaded my self that there is nothing in the World, no Heaven, no Earth, no Souls, no Bodies; and then why not, that I _my self am not_? Yet surely if _I_ could perswade my self any thing, _I was_.

But there is _I_ know not what sort of _Deceivour_ very _powerful_ and very _crafty_, who always strives to _deceive_ Me; without Doubt therefore _I am_, if he can _decieve me_; And let him _Deceive_ me as much as he can, yet he can never make me _not to Be_, whilst _I think that I am_. Wherefore _I_ may lay this down as a _Principle, that whenever this sentence I am, I exist, is spoken or thought of by Me, ’tis necessarily True_.

But _I_ do not yet fully understand _who I am_ that now necessarily _exist_, and _I_ must hereafter take care, least _I_ foolishly _mistake_ some other thing _for my self_, and by that means be _deceived_ in that thought, which _I_ defend as the most _certain_ and _evident_ of all.

Wherefore _I_ will again Recollect, what _I_ believed _my self to be_ heretofore, before _I_ had set upon these Meditations, from which _Notion I_ will withdraw whatever may be _Disproved_ by the _Foremention’d Reasons_, that in the End, _That_ only may Remain which is _True_ and _indisputable_.

What therefore have I heretofore thought my self? _A Man._ But what is a man? Shall I answer, a _Rational Animal_? By no means; because afterwards it may be asked, what an _Animal_ is? and what _Rational_ is? And so from one _question_ I may fall into greater _Difficulties_; neither at present have I so much time as to spend it about such Niceties.

But I shall rather here Consider, what heretofore represented it self to my thoughts _freely_, and _naturally_, whenever I set my self to understand _What I my self was_.

And the first thing I find Representing it self is, that I have _Face_, _Hands_, _Arms_, and this whole _frame_ of _parts_ which is seen in my _Body_, and which I call my _Body_.

The next thing represented to me was, that I was _nourish’d_, could _walk_, had _senses_, and could _Think_; which functions I attributed to my _Soul_. Yet what this _soul_ of mine was, I did not fully conceive; or else supposed it a small thing like _wind_, or _fire_, or _aire_, infused through my _stronger parts_.

As to my _Body_ truly _I_ doubted not, but that _I_ rightly understood its _Nature_, which (if _I_ should endeavour to describe as _I_ conceive it) _I_ should thus Explain, _viz._ By a _Body_ _I_ mean whatever is _capable_ of _Shape_, or can be _contained_ in a _place_, and so fill’s a space that it excludes all other _Bodys_ out of the same, that which may be _touch’d_, _seen_, _heard_, _tasted_, or _smelt_, and that which is _capable_ of _various_ _Motions_ and _Modifications_, not from it _self_, but from any _other thing moving_ it, for _I_ judged it _against_ (or rather _above_) the _nature_ of a _Body_ to _move it self_, or _perceive_, or _think_, But rather admired that _I_ should find these _Operations_ in certain _Bodys_.

But How now (since _I_ suppose a certain _powerful_ and (if it be lawful to call him so) _evil deluder_, who useth all his endeavours to deceive me in all things) can _I_ affirme that I have any of those things, which I have now said belong to the _nature_ of a _Body_? Hold— Let me Consider—, Let me think—, Let me reflect— I can find no Answer, and I am weary with repeating the same things over-again in vain.

But Which of these _Faculties_ did I attribute to my _Soul_, my _Nutritive_, or _Motive faculty_? yet now seeing I have no _Body_, these also are _meer delusions_. Was it my _sensitive faculty_? But this also cannot be perform’d without a _Body_, and I have seem’d to _perceive_ many things in my _sleep_, of which I afterwards understood my self _not_ to be _sensible_. Was it my _Cogitative Faculty_? Here I have discovered it, ’tis my _Thought_, this alone cannot be separated from Me, I _am_, I _exist_,⸺_tis true_, but for what time _Am I_? Why _I am_ as long as _I think_; For it May be that When I cease from _thinking_, I may cease from being. Now I admit of nothing but what is necessarily true: In short therefore I _am_ only a _thinking thing_ that is to say, a _mind_, or a _soul_, or _understanding_, or _Reason_, words which formerly _I_ understood not; I am a _Real thing_, and _Really Existent_, But what sort of thing? I have just now said it, _A thinking thing_.

[Sidenote: * _Places noted with their Asterisk are refer’d to in the following Objections._]

But am I nothing besides? I will consider⸺I am not that _structure_ of _parts_, which is called a Mans _Body_, neither am I any sort of _thin Air_ infused into those Parts, nor a _Wind_, nor _Fire_, nor _Vapour_, nor _Breath_, nor whatever I my self can feign, for all these things I have supposed _not to Be_. Yet my Position stands firm; _Nevertheless I am something._ Yet perhaps it so falls out that these very things which I suppose not to exist (because to me _unknown_) are in reallity nothing _different_ from that very _Self_, which I _know_. I cannot tell, I dispute it not now, I can only give my opinion of those things whereof I have some knowledge. I am sure that I exist, I ask who I am whom I thus know, certainly, the knowledge, of _Me_ (precisely taken) depends not on those things, whose existence I am yet ignorant of; and therefore not on any other things that I can _feign_ by my _imagination_.

And this very Word (_feign_) puts me in mind of my _error_, for I should _feign_ in deed, if I should _imagine_ my self any thing; for to _imagine_ is nothing else but to think upon the _shape_ or _image_ of a _corporeal_ thing; but now I certainly know that I _am_, and I know also that ’tis possible that all these _images_, and generally whatever belongs to the _Nature_ of a _Body_ are nothing but _deluding Dreams_. Which things Consider’d I should be no less Foolish in saying, _I will imagine that I may more throughly understand what I am_, then if I should say, _at Present I am awake and perceive something true, but because it appears not evidently enough, I shall endeavour to sleep, that in a Dream I may perceive it more evidently and truely_.

Wherefore I know that nothing that I can comprehend by my _imagination_, can belong to the _Notion_ I have of _my self_, and that I must carefully withdraw my mind from those things that it may more _distinctly_ perceive its _own Nature_.

Let me ask therefore _What I am, A Thinking Thing_, but What is That? That is a thing, _doubting_, _understanding_, _affirming_, _denying_, _willing_, _nilling_, _imagining_ also, and _sensitive_. These truely are not a few _Properties_, if they all belong to Me. And Why should they Not belong to me? For am not I the very same who at present _doubt_ almost of All things; yet _understand_ something, which thing onely I _affirm_ to be true, I _deny_ all other things, I am _willing_ to know more, I _would not_ be deceived, I _imagine_ many things _unwillingly_, and _consider_ many things as coming to me by my _senses_. Which of all these faculties is it, which is not as _true_ as that I _Exist_, tho I should _sleep_, or my _Creatour_ should as much as in him lay, strive to _deceive_ Me? which of them is it that is _distinct_ from my _thought_? which of them is it that can be _seperated_ from _me_? For that I am the same that _doubt_, _understand_, and _will_ is so _evident_, that I know not how to explain it more _manifestly_, and that I also am the same that _imagine_, for tho perhaps (as I have supposed) no thing that can be _imagined_ is _true_, yet the _imaginative Power_ it self is _really_ existent, and makes up a part of my _Thought_; and last of all that I am the same that am _sensitive_, or _perceive corporeal_ things as by my _senses_, yet that I now _see_ light, _hear_ a noise, _feel_ heat, these things are false, for I suppose my self _asleep_, but I _know_ that I _see_, _hear_, and am _heated_, that cannot be _false_; and this it is that in me is _properly_ called _Sense_, and this strictly taken is the same with _thought_.

By these Considerations I begin a little better to _understand My self_ what I am; But yet it _seems_, and I cannot but _think_ that _Corporeal Things_ (whose _Images_ are formed in my _thought_, and which by my _senses_, I perceive) are much more _distinctly known_, then that _confused Notion_ of _My Self_ which _imagination_ cannot afford me. And yet ’tis strange that things _doubtful_, _unknown_, _distinct from Me_, should be _apprehended_ more _clearly_ by _Me_, then a Thing that is _True_, then a thing that is _known_, or then _I my self_; But the Reason is, that my Mind loves to wander, and suffers not it self to be bounded within the strict limits of _Truth_.

Let it therefore Wander, and once more let me give it the Free Reins, that hereafter being conveniently curbed, it may suffer it self to be more easily Govern’d.

Let me consider those things which of all Things I formerly conceived most _evident_, that is to say, _Bodies_ which we touch, which we see, not bodies in General (for those _General_ Conceptions are usually _Confused_) but some one _Body_ in particular.

Let us chuse for example this piece of _Bees-wax_, it was lately taken from the _Comb_, it has not yet lost all the _tast_ of the _Honey_, it retains something of the _smell_ of the _Flowers_ from whence ’twas gather’d, its _colour_, _shape_, and _bigness_ are manifest, ’tis _hard_, ’tis _cold_, ’tis _easily felt_, and if you will knock it with your finger, ’twill _make a noise_: In fine, it hath all things requisite to the most perfect notion of a _Body_.

But behold whilst I am speaking, ’tis put to the Fire, its _tast_ is purged away, the _smell_ is vanish’d, the _colour_ is changed, the _shape_ is alter’d, its _bulk_ is increased, its become _soft_, ’tis _hot_, it can scarce be _felt_, and now (though you strike it) it makes no _noise_. Does it yet continue the same Wax? surely it does, this all confess, no one denies it, no one doubts it. What therefore was there in it that was so evidently known? surely none of those things which I _perceived_ by my _senses_; for what I _smelt_, _tasted_, have _seen_, _felt_, or _heard_, are all _vanish’d_, and yet the _Wax remains_. Perhaps ’twas this only that I now think on, _viz._ that the _Wax_ it self was not that _tast of Honey_, that _smell of Flowers_, that _whiteness_, that _shape_, or that _sound_, but it was a _Body_ which awhile before appear’d to me _so_ and _so modified_, but now _otherwise_. But what is it strictly that I thus imagine? let me consider: And having rejected whatever belongs not to the Wax, let me see what will remain, _viz._ this only, a _thing extended_, _flexible_, and _mutable_. But what is this _flexible_, and _mutable_? is it that I _imagine_ that this Wax from being _round_ may be made _square_, or from being _square_ can be made _triangular_? No, this is not it; for I conceive it capable of _innumerable_ such _changes_, and yet I cannot by my _imagination_ run over these _Innumerables_; Wherefore this notion of its _mutability_ proceeds not from my _imagination_. What then is _extended_? is not its _Extension_ also _unknown_? For when it _melts_ ’tis _greater_, when it _boils_ ’tis _greater_, and yet _greater_ when the heat is increas’d; and I should not rightly judge of the Wax, did I not think it capable of more various _Extensions_ than I can _imagine_. It remains therefore for me only to confess, that I cannot _imagine_ what this Wax is, but that I _perceive_ with my _Mind_ what it is. I speak of this _particular_ Wax, for of Wax in _general_ the _notion_ is more _clear_.

But what Wax is this that I only conceive by my mind? ’Tis the same which I see, which I touch, which I imagine, and in fine, the same which at first I judged it to be. But this is to be noted, that the _perception_ thereof is not _sight_, the _touch_, or the _imagination_ thereof; neither was it ever so, though at first it seem’d so. But the _perception_ thereof is the _inspection_ or _beholding_ of the Mind only, which may be either _imperfect_ and _confused_, as formerly it was; or _clear_ and _distinct_, as now it is; the _more_ or the _less_ I consider the Composition of the Wax.

In the interim, I cannot but admire how prone my mind is to erre; for though I revolve these things with my self _silently_, and _without speaking_, yet am I intangled in _meer words_, and am almost deceived by the usual way of _expression_; for we commonly say, _that we see the Wax it self if it be present_, and not, _that we judge it present by its colour or shape_; from whence I should immediately thus conclude, therefore the Wax is known by the _sight_ of the _eye_, and not by the _inspection_ of the _mind_ only. Thus I should have concluded, had not I by chance look’d out of my window, and seen men passing by in the Street; which men I as usually say that I _see_, as I do now, that I _see_ this Wax; and yet I see nothing but their Hair and Garments, which perhaps may cover only _artificial Machines_ and _movements_, but I judge them to be men; so that what I thought I only _saw_ with my eyes, I comprehend by my _Judicative Faculty_, which is _my Soul_. But it becomes not one, who desires to be wiser than the Vulgar, to draw matter of _doubt_ from those ways of _expression_, which the Vulgar have invented.