MEDITATION I.
OF THE THINGS OF WHICH WE MAY DOUBT.
1. SEVERAL years have now elapsed since I first became aware that I had accepted,
even from my youth, many false opinions for true, and that consequently what I
afterward based on such principles was highly doubtful; and from that time I
was convinced of the necessity of undertaking once in my life to rid myself of
all the opinions I had adopted, and of commencing anew the work of building
from the foundation, if I desired to establish a firm and abiding
superstructure in the sciences. But as this enterprise appeared to me to be one
of great magnitude, I waited until I had attained an age so mature as to leave
me no hope that at any stage of life more advanced I should be better able to
execute my design. On this account, I have delayed so long that I should
henceforth consider I was doing wrong were I still to consume in deliberation
any of the time that now remains for action. To-day,
then, since I have opportunely freed my mind from all cares [and am happily
disturbed by no passions], and since I am in the secure possession of leisure
in a peaceable retirement, I will at length apply myself earnestly and freely
to the general overthrow of all my former opinions.
2. But, to this end, it will
not be necessary for me to show that the whole of these are false a point,
perhaps, which I shall never reach; but as even now my reason convinces me that
I ought not the less carefully to withhold belief from what is not entirely
certain and indubitable, than from what is manifestly false, it will be
sufficient to justify the rejection of the whole if I shall find in each some
ground for doubt. Nor for this purpose will it be necessary even to deal with
each belief individually, which would be truly an endless labor; but, as the
removal from below of the foundation necessarily involves the downfall of the
whole edifice, I will at once approach the criticism of the principles on which
all my former beliefs rested.
3. All that I have, up to this moment, accepted as possessed of the highest truth
and certainty, I received either from or through the senses. I observed,
however, that these sometimes misled us; and it is the part of prudence not to
place absolute confidence in that by which we have even once been deceived.
4. But it may be said, perhaps, that, although the senses occasionally mislead us
respecting minute objects, and such as are so far removed from us as to be
beyond the reach of close observation, there are yet many other of their
informations (presentations), of the truth of which it is manifestly impossible
to doubt; as for example, that I am in this place, seated by the fire, clothed
in a winter dressing gown, that I hold in my hands this piece of paper, with
other intimations of the same nature. But how could I deny that I possess these
hands and this body, and withal escape being classed with persons in a state of
insanity, whose brains are so disordered and clouded by dark bilious vapors as
to cause them pertinaciously to assert that they are monarchs when they are in
the greatest poverty; or clothed [in gold] and purple when destitute of any
covering; or that their head is made of clay, their body of glass, or that they
are gourds? I should certainly be not less insane than they, were I to regulate
my procedure according to examples so extravagant.
5. Though this be true, I must nevertheless here consider that I am a man, and
that, consequently, I am in the habit of sleeping, and representing to myself
in dreams those same things, or even sometimes others less probable, which the
insane think are presented to them in their waking moments. How often have I
dreamt that I was in these familiar circumstances, that I was dressed, and
occupied this place by the fire, when I was lying undressed in bed? At the
present moment, however, I certainly look upon this paper with eyes wide awake;
the head which I now move is not asleep; I extend this hand consciously and
with express purpose, and I perceive it; the occurrences in sleep are not so
distinct as all this. But I cannot forget that, at other times I have been
deceived in sleep by similar illusions; and, attentively considering those
cases, I perceive so clearly that there exist no certain marks by which the
state of waking can ever be distinguished from sleep, that I feel greatly
astonished; and in amazement I almost persuade myself that I am now dreaming.
6. Let us suppose, then, that we are dreaming, and that all these
particulars namely, the opening of the eyes, the motion of the head, the forth-putting
of the hands are merely illusions; and even that we really possess neither an
entire body nor hands such as we see. Nevertheless it must be admitted at least
that the objects which appear to us in sleep are, as it were, painted
representations which could not have been formed unless in the likeness of
realities; and, therefore, that those general objects, at all events, namely,
eyes, a head, hands, and an entire body, are not simply imaginary, but really
existent. For, in truth, painters themselves, even when they study to represent
sirens and satyrs by forms the most fantastic and extraordinary, cannot bestow
upon them natures absolutely new, but can only make a certain medley of the
members of different animals; or if they chance to imagine something so novel
that nothing at all similar has ever been seen before, and such as is,
therefore, purely fictitious and absolutely false, it is at least certain that
the colors of which this is composed are real. And on the same principle, although these general objects, viz. [a body], eyes,
a head, hands, and the like, be imaginary, we are nevertheless absolutely
necessitated to admit the reality at least of some other objects still more
simple and universal than these, of which, just as of certain real colors, all
those images of things, whether true and real, or false and fantastic, that are
found in our consciousness (cogitatio)are formed.
7. To this class of objects seem to belong corporeal nature in general and its
extension; the figure of extended things, their quantity or magnitude, and
their number, as also the place in, and the time during, which they exist, and
other things of the same sort.
8. We will not, therefore, perhaps reason
illegitimately if we conclude from this that Physics, Astronomy, Medicine, and
all the other sciences that have for their end the consideration of composite
objects, are indeed of a doubtful character; but that Arithmetic, Geometry, and
the other sciences of the same class, which regard merely the simplest and most
general objects, and scarcely inquire whether or not these are really existent,
contain somewhat that is certain and indubitable: for whether I am awake or
dreaming, it remains true that two and three make five, and that a square has
but four sides; nor does it seem possible that truths so apparent can ever fall
under a suspicion of falsity [or incertitude].
9. Nevertheless, the belief that there is a God who is all powerful, and who
created me, such as I am, has, for a long time, obtained steady possession of
my mind. How, then, do I know that he has not arranged that there should be
neither earth, nor sky, nor any extended thing, nor figure, nor magnitude, nor
place, providing at the same time, however, for [the rise in me of the
perceptions of all these objects, and] the persuasion that these do not exist
otherwise than as I perceive them? And further, as I sometimes think that
others are in error respecting matters of which they believe themselves to
possess a perfect knowledge, how do I know that I am not also deceived each
time I add together two and three, or number the sides of a square, or form
some judgment still more simple, if more simple indeed can be imagined? But
perhaps Deity has not been willing that I should be thus deceived, for he is
said to be supremely good. If, however, it were repugnant to the goodness of
Deity to have created me subject to constant deception, it would seem likewise
to be contrary to his goodness to allow me to be occasionally deceived; and yet
it is clear that this is permitted.
10. Some, indeed, might perhaps be found who
would be disposed rather to deny the existence of a Being so powerful than to
believe that there is nothing certain. But let us for the present refrain from
opposing this opinion, and grant that all which is here said of a Deity is
fabulous: nevertheless, in whatever way it be supposed that I reach the state
in which I exist, whether by fate, or chance, or by an endless series of
antecedents and consequents, or by any other means, it is clear (since to be
deceived and to err is a certain defect) that the probability of my being so
imperfect as to be the constant victim of deception, will be increased exactly
in proportion as the power possessed by the cause, to which they assign my
origin, is lessened. To these reasonings I have assuredly nothing to reply, but
am constrained at last to avow that there is nothing of all that I formerly
believed to be true of which it is impossible to doubt, and that not through
thoughtlessness or levity, but from cogent and maturely considered reasons; so
that henceforward, if I desire to discover anything certain, I ought not the
less carefully to refrain from assenting to those same opinions than to what
might be shown to be manifestly false.
11. But it is not sufficient to have made these observations; care must be taken
likewise to keep them in remembrance. For those old and customary opinions
perpetually recur long and familiar usage giving them the right of occupying
my mind, even almost against my will, and subduing my belief; nor will I lose
the habit of deferring to them and confiding in them so long as I shall
consider them to be what in truth they are, viz., opinions to some extent
doubtful, as I have already shown, but still highly probable, and such as it is
much more reasonable to believe than deny. It is for this reason I am persuaded
that I shall not be doing wrong, if, taking an opposite judgment of deliberate
design, I become my own deceiver, by supposing, for a time, that all those
opinions are entirely false and imaginary, until at length, having thus
balanced my old by my new prejudices, my judgment shall no longer be turned
aside by perverted usage from the path that may conduct to the perception of
truth. For I am assured that, meanwhile, there will arise neither peril nor
error from this course, and that I cannot for the present yield too much to
distrust, since the end I now seek is not action but knowledge.
12. I will suppose, then, not that Deity, who is sovereignly good and the fountain
of truth, but that some malignant demon, who is at once exceedingly potent and
deceitful, has employed all his artifice to deceive me; t will suppose that the
sky, the air, the earth, colors, figures, sounds, and all external things, are
nothing better than the illusions of dreams, by means of which this being has
laid snares for my credulity; I will consider myself as without hands, eyes,
flesh, blood, or any of the senses, and as falsely believing that I am
possessed of these; I will continue resolutely fixed in this belief, and if
indeed by this means it be not in my power to arrive at the knowledge of truth,
I shall at least do what is in my power, viz., [suspend my judgment], and
guard with settled purpose against giving my assent to what is false, and being
imposed upon by this deceiver, whatever be his power and artifice. But this undertaking is arduous, and a certain indolence insensibly leads me
back to my ordinary course of life; and just as the captive, who, perchance,
was enjoying in his dreams an imaginary liberty, when he begins to suspect that
it is but a vision, dreads awakening, and conspires with the agreeable
illusions that the deception may be prolonged; so I, of my own accord, fall
back into the train of my former beliefs, and fear to arouse myself from my
slumber, lest the time of laborious wakefulness that would succeed this quiet
rest, in place of bringing any light of day, should prove inadequate to dispel
the darkness that will arise from the difficulties that have now been
raised.