MEDITATION VI
OF THE EXISTENCE OF MATERIAL THINGS, AND OF THE
REAL DISTINCTION BETWEEN THE MIND
AND BODY OF MAN.
1. THERE now only remains the inquiry as to whether material things exist. With
regard to this question, I at least know with certainty that such things may
exist, in as far as they constitute the object of the pure mathematics, since,
regarding them in this aspect, I can conceive them clearly and distinctly. For
there can be no doubt that God possesses the power of producing all the objects
I am able distinctly to conceive, and I never considered anything impossible to
him, unless when I experienced a contradiction in the attempt to conceive it
aright. Further, the faculty of imagination which I possess, and of which I am
conscious that I make use when I apply myself to the consideration of material
things, is sufficient to persuade me of their existence: for, when I
attentively consider what imagination is, I find that it is simply a certain
application of the cognitive faculty (facultas cognoscitiva) to a body
which is immediately present to it, and which therefore exists.
2. And to render this quite clear, I remark, in the first place, the difference
that subsists between imagination and pure intellection [or conception]. For
example, when I imagine a triangle I not only conceive (inteligo) that
it is a figure comprehended by three lines, but at the same time also I look
upon (intueor) these Three lines as present by the power and internal
application of my mind (acie mentis), and this is what I call imagining.
But if I desire to think of a chiliogon, I indeed rightly conceive that it is a
figure composed of a thousand sides, as easily as I conceive that a triangle is
a figure composed of only three sides; but I cannot imagine the thousand sides
of a chiliogon as I do the three sides of a triangle, nor, so to speak, view
them as present [with the eyes of my mind]. And although, in accordance with
the habit I have of always imagining something when I think of corporeal
things, it may happen that, in conceiving a chiliogon, I confusedly represent
some figure to myself, yet it is quite evident that this is not a chiliogon,
since it in no wise differs from that which I would represent to myself, if I
were to think of a myriogon, or any other figure of many sides; nor would this
representation be of any use in discovering and unfolding the properties that
constitute the difference between a chiliogon and other polygons. But if the
question turns on a pentagon, it is quite true that I can conceive its figure,
as well as that of a chiliogon, without the aid of imagination; but I can
likewise imagine it by applying the attention of my mind to its five sides, and
at the same time to the area which they contain. Thus I observe that a special
effort of mind is necessary to the act of imagination, which is not required to
conceiving or understanding (ad intelligendum); and this special
exertion of mind clearly shows the difference between imagination and pure
intellection (imaginatio et intellectio pura)..
3. I remark, besides, that
this power of imagination which I possess, in as far as it differs from the
power of conceiving, is in no way necessary to my [nature or] essence, that is,
to the essence of my mind; for although I did not possess it, I should still
remain the same that I now am, from which it seems we may conclude that it
depends on something different from the mind. And I easily understand that, if
some body exists, with which my mind is so conjoined and united as to be able,
as it were, to consider it when it chooses, it may thus imagine corporeal
objects; so that this mode of thinking differs from pure intellection only in
this respect, that the mind in conceiving turns in some way upon itself, and
considers some one of the ideas it possesses within itself; but in imagining it
turns toward the body, and contemplates in it some object conformed to the idea
which it either of itself conceived or apprehended by sense. I easily
understand, I say, that imagination may be thus formed, if it is true that
there are bodies; and because I find no other obvious mode of explaining it, I
thence, with probability, conjecture that they exist, but only with
probability; and although I carefully examine all things, nevertheless I do not
find that, from the distinct idea of corporeal nature I have in my imagination,
I can necessarily infer the existence of any body.
4. But I am accustomed to imagine many other objects besides that corporeal nature
which is the object of the pure mathematics, as, for example, colors, sounds,
tastes, pain, and the like, although with less distinctness; and, inasmuch as I
perceive these objects much better by the senses, through the medium of which
and of memory, they seem to have reached the imagination, I believe that, in
order the more advantageously to examine them, it is proper I should at the
same time examine what sense-perception
is, and inquire whether from those ideas that are apprehended by this mode of
thinking (consciousness), I cannot obtain a certain proof of the existence of
corporeal objects.
5. And, in the first place, I will recall to my mind the things I have hitherto
held as true, because perceived by the senses, and the foundations upon which
my belief in their truth rested; I will, in the second place, examine the reasons that afterward constrained me to doubt of them; and, finally, I
will consider what of them I ought now to believe.
6. Firstly, then, I perceived that I had a head, hands, feet and other members
composing that body which I considered as part, or perhaps even as the whole,
of myself. I perceived further, that that body was placed among many others, by
which it was capable of being affected in diverse ways, both beneficial and
hurtful; and what was beneficial I remarked by a certain sensation of pleasure,
and what was hurtful by a sensation of pain. And besides this pleasure and
pain, I was likewise conscious of hunger, thirst, and other appetites, as well
as certain corporeal inclinations toward joy, sadness, anger, and similar
passions. And, out of myself, besides the extension, figure, and motions of
bodies, I likewise perceived in them hardness, heat, and the other tactile
qualities, and, in addition, light, colors, odors, tastes, and sounds, the
variety of which gave me the means of distinguishing the sky, the earth, the
sea, and generally all the other bodies, from one another. And certainly,
considering the ideas of all these qualities, which were presented to my mind,
and which alone I properly and immediately perceived, it was not without reason
that I thought I perceived certain objects wholly different from my thought,
namely, bodies from which those ideas proceeded; for I was conscious that the
ideas were presented to me without my consent being required, so that I could
not perceive any object, however desirous I might be, unless it were present to
the organ of sense; and it was wholly out of my power not to perceive it when
it was thus present. And because the ideas I perceived by the senses were much
more lively and clear, and even, in their own way, more distinct than any of
those I could of myself frame by meditation, or which I found impressed on my
memory, it seemed that they could not have proceeded from myself, and must
therefore have been caused in me by some other objects; and as of those objects
I had no knowledge beyond what the ideas themselves gave me, nothing was so
likely to occur to my mind as the supposition that the objects were similar to
the ideas which they caused. And because I recollected also that I had formerly
trusted to the senses, rather than to reason, and that the ideas which I myself
formed were not so clear as those I perceived by sense, and that they were even
for the most part composed of parts of the latter, I was readily persuaded that
I had no idea in my intellect which had not formerly passed through the senses.
Nor was I altogether wrong in likewise believing that that body which, by a
special right, I called my own, pertained to me more properly and strictly than
any of the others; for in truth, I could never be separated from it as from
other bodies; I felt in it and on account of it all my appetites and
affections, and in fine I was affected in its parts by pain and the titillation
of pleasure, and not in the parts of the other bodies that were separated from
it. But when I inquired into the reason why, from this I know not what
sensation of pain, sadness of mind should follow, and why from the sensation of
pleasure, joy should arise, or why this indescribable twitching of the stomach,
which I call hunger, should put me in mind of taking food, and the parchedness
of the throat of drink, and so in other cases, I was unable to give any
explanation, unless that I was so taught by nature; for there is assuredly no
affinity, at least none that I am able to comprehend, between this irritation
of the stomach and the desire of food, any more than between the perception of
an object that causes pain and the consciousness of sadness which springs from
the perception. And in the same way it seemed to me that all the other
judgments I had formed regarding the objects of sense, were dictates of nature;
because I remarked that those judgments were formed in me, before I had leisure
to weigh and consider the reasons that might constrain me to form them.
7. But, afterward, a wide experience by degrees sapped the faith I had reposed in
my senses; for I frequently observed that towers, which at a distance seemed
round, appeared square, when more closely viewed, and that colossal figures,
raised on the summits of these towers, looked like small statues, when viewed
from the bottom of them; and, in other instances without number, I also
discovered error in judgments founded on the external senses; and not
only in those founded on the external, but even in those that rested on the
internal senses; for is there aught more internal than pain? And yet I have sometimes been informed by parties whose arm or leg had been amputated,
that they still occasionally seemed to feel pain in that part of the body which
they had lost, a circumstance that led me to think that I could not be quite
certain even that any one of my members was affected when I felt pain in it.
And to these grounds of doubt I shortly afterward also added two others of very
wide generality: the first of them was that I believed I never perceived
anything when awake which I could not occasionally think I also perceived when
asleep, and as I do not believe that the ideas I seem to perceive in my sleep
proceed from objects external to me, I did not any more observe any ground for
believing this of such as I seem to perceive when awake; the second was that
since I was as yet ignorant of the author of my being or at least supposed
myself to be so, I saw nothing to prevent my having been so constituted by
nature as that I should be deceived even in matters that appeared to me to
possess the greatest truth. And, with respect to the grounds on which I had
before been persuaded of the existence of sensible objects, I had no great
difficulty in finding suitable answers to them; for as nature seemed to incline
me to many things from which reason made me averse, I thought that I ought not
to confide much in its teachings. And although the perceptions of the senses
were not dependent on my will, I did not think that I ought on that ground to
conclude that they proceeded from things different from myself, since perhaps
there might be found in me some faculty, though hitherto unknown to me, which
produced them.
8. But now that I begin to know myself better, and to discover more clearly the
author of my being, I do not, indeed, think that I ought rashly to admit all
which the senses seem to teach, nor, on the other hand, is it my conviction
that I ought to doubt in general of their teachings.
9. And, firstly, because I know that all which I clearly and distinctly conceive
can be produced by God exactly as I conceive it, it is sufficient that I am
able clearly and distinctly to conceive one thing apart from another, in order
to be certain that the one is different from the other, seeing they may at
least be made to exist separately, by the omnipotence of God; and it matters
not by what power this separation is made, in order to be compelled to judge
them different; and, therefore, merely because I know with certitude that I
exist, and because, in the meantime, I do not observe that aught necessarily
belongs to my nature or essence beyond my being a thinking thing, I rightly
conclude that my essence consists only in my being a thinking thing [or a
substance whose whole essence or nature is merely thinking]. And although I
may, or rather, as I will shortly say, although I certainly do possess a body
with which I am very closely conjoined; nevertheless, because, on the one hand,
I have a clear and distinct idea of myself, in as far as I am only a thinking
and unextended thing, and as, on the other hand, I possess a distinct idea of
body, in as far as it is only an extended and unthinking thing, it is certain
that I, [that is, my mind, by which I am what I am], is entirely and truly
distinct from my body, and may exist without it.
10. Moreover, I find in myself diverse faculties of thinking that have each their
special mode: for example, I find I possess the faculties of imagining and
perceiving, without which I can indeed clearly and distinctly conceive myself
as entire, but I cannot reciprocally conceive them without conceiving myself,
that is to say, without an intelligent substance in which they reside, for [in
the notion we have of them, or to use the terms of the schools] in their formal
concept, they comprise some sort of intellection; whence I perceive that they
are distinct from myself as modes are from things. I remark likewise certain
other faculties, as the power of changing place, of assuming diverse figures,
and the like, that cannot be conceived and cannot therefore exist, any more
than the preceding, apart from a substance in which they inhere. It is very
evident, however, that these faculties, if they really exist, must belong to
some corporeal or extended substance, since in their clear and distinct concept
there is contained some sort of extension, but no intellection at all. Further,
I cannot doubt but that there is in me a certain passive faculty of perception,
that is, of receiving and taking knowledge of the ideas of sensible things; but
this would be useless to me, if there did not also exist in me, or in some
other thing, another active faculty capable of forming and producing those
ideas. But this active faculty cannot be in me [in as far as I am but a
thinking thing], seeing that it does not presuppose thought, and also that
those ideas are frequently produced in my mind without my contributing to it in
any way, and even frequently contrary to my will. This faculty must therefore
exist in some substance different from me, in which all the objective reality
of the ideas that are produced by this faculty is contained formally or
eminently, as I before remarked; and this substance is either a body, that is
to say, a corporeal nature in which is contained formally [and in effect] all
that is objectively [and by representation] in those ideas; or it is God
himself, or some other creature, of a rank superior to body, in which the same
is contained eminently. But as God is no deceiver, it is manifest that he does
not of himself and immediately communicate those ideas to me, nor even by the
intervention of any creature in which their objective reality is not formally,
but only eminently, contained. For as he has given me no faculty whereby I can
discover this to be the case, but, on the contrary, a very strong inclination
to believe that those ideas arise from corporeal objects, I do not see how he
could be vindicated from the charge of deceit, if in truth they proceeded from
any other source, or were produced by other causes than corporeal things: and
accordingly it must be concluded, that corporeal objects exist. Nevertheless,
they are not perhaps exactly such as we perceive by the senses, for their
comprehension by the senses is, in many instances, very obscure and confused;
but it is at least necessary to admit that all which I clearly and distinctly
conceive as in them, that is, generally speaking all that is comprehended in
the object of speculative geometry, really exists external to me.
11. But with respect to other things which are either only particular, as, for
example, that the sun is of such a size and figure, etc., or are conceived with
less clearness and distinctness, as light, sound, pain, and the like, although
they are highly dubious and uncertain, nevertheless on the ground alone that
God is no deceiver, and that consequently he has permitted no falsity in my
opinions which he has not likewise given me a faculty of correcting, I think I
may with safety conclude that I possess in myself the means of arriving at the
truth. And, in the first place, it cannot be doubted that in each of the
dictates of nature there is some truth: for by nature, considered in general, I
now understand nothing more than God himself, or the order and disposition
established by God in created things; and by my nature in particular I
understand the assemblage of all that God has given me.
12. But there is nothing which that nature teaches me more expressly [or more
sensibly] than that I have a body which is ill affected when I feel pain, and
stands in need of food and drink when I experience the sensations of hunger and
thirst, etc. And therefore I ought not to doubt but that there is some truth in
these informations.
13. Nature likewise 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
besides so intimately conjoined, and as it were intermixed with it, that my
mind and body compose a certain unity. For if this were not the case, I should
not feel pain when my body is hurt, seeing I am merely a thinking thing, but
should perceive the wound by the understanding alone, just as a pilot perceives
by sight when any part of his vessel is damaged; and when my body has need of
food or drink, I should have a clear knowledge of this, and not be made aware
of it by the confused sensations of hunger and thirst: for, in truth, all these
sensations of hunger, thirst, pain, etc., are nothing more than certain
confused modes of thinking, arising from the union and apparent fusion of mind
and body.
14. Besides this, nature teaches me that my own body is surrounded by many other
bodies, some of which I have to seek after, and others to shun. And indeed, as
I perceive different sorts of colors, sounds, odors, tastes, heat, hardness,
etc., I safely conclude that there are in the bodies from which the diverse
perceptions of the senses proceed, certain varieties corresponding to them,
although, perhaps, not in reality like them; and since, among these diverse
perceptions of the senses, some are agreeable, and others disagreeable, there
can be no doubt that my body, or rather my entire self, in as far as I am
composed of body and mind, may be variously affected, both beneficially and
hurtfully, by surrounding bodies.
15. But there are many other beliefs which though seemingly the teaching of nature,
are not in reality so, but which obtained a place in my mind through a habit of
judging inconsiderately of things. It may thus easily happen that such
judgments shall contain error: thus, for example, the opinion I have that all
space in which there is nothing to affect [or make an impression on] my senses
is void: that in a hot body there is something in every respect similar to the
idea of heat in my mind; that in a white or green body there is the same
whiteness or greenness which I perceive; that in a bitter or sweet body there
is the same taste, and so in other instances; that the stars, towers, and all
distant bodies, are of the same size and figure as they appear to our eyes,
etc. But that I may avoid everything like indistinctness of conception, I must
accurately define what I properly understand by being taught by nature. For
nature is here taken in a narrower sense than when it signifies the sum of all
the things which God has given me; seeing that in that meaning the notion
comprehends much that belongs only to the mind [to which I am not here to be
understood as referring when I use the term nature]; as, for example, the
notion I have of the truth, that what is done cannot be undone, and all the
other truths I discern by the natural light [without the aid of the body]; and
seeing that it comprehends likewise much besides that belongs only to body, and
is not here any more contained under the name nature, as the quality of
heaviness, and the like, of which I do not speak, the term being reserved
exclusively to designate the things which God has given to me as a being
composed of mind and body. But nature, taking the term in the sense explained,
teaches me to shun what causes in me the sensation of pain, and to pursue what
affords me the sensation of pleasure, and other things of this sort; but I do
not discover that it teaches me, in addition to this, from these diverse
perceptions of the senses, to draw any conclusions respecting external objects
without a previous [careful and mature] consideration of them by the mind:
for it is, as appears to me, the office of the mind alone, and not of the
composite whole of mind and body, to discern the truth in those matters. Thus,
although the impression a star makes on my eye is not larger than that from the
flame of a candle, I do not, nevertheless, experience any real or positive
impulse determining me to believe that the star is not greater than the flame;
the true account of the matter being merely that I have so judged from my youth
without any rational ground. And, though on approaching the fire I feel heat,
and even pain on approaching it too closely, I have, however, from this no
ground for holding that something resembling the heat I feel is in the fire,
any more than that there is something similar to the pain; all that I have
ground for believing is, that there is something in it, whatever it may be,
which excites in me those sensations of heat or pain. So also, although there
are spaces in which I find nothing to excite and affect my senses, I must not
therefore conclude that those spaces contain in them no body; for I see that in
this, as in many other similar matters, I have been accustomed to pervert the
order of nature, because these perceptions of the senses, although given me by
nature merely to signify to my mind what things are beneficial and hurtful to
the composite whole of which it is a part, and being sufficiently clear and
distinct for that purpose, are nevertheless used by me as infallible rules by
which to determine immediately the essence of the bodies that exist out of me,
of which they can of course afford me only the most obscure and confused
knowledge.
16. But I have already sufficiently considered how it happens that, notwithstanding
the supreme goodness of God, there is falsity in my judgments. A difficulty,
however, here presents itself, respecting the things which I am taught by
nature must be pursued or avoided, and also respecting the internal sensations
in which I seem to have occasionally detected error, [and thus to be directly
deceived by nature]: thus, for example, I may be so deceived by the agreeable
taste of some viand with which poison has been mixed, as to be induced to take
the poison. In this case, however, nature may be excused, for it simply leads
me to desire the viand for its agreeable taste, and not the poison, which is
unknown to it; and thus we can infer nothing from this circumstance beyond that
our nature is not omniscient; at which there is assuredly no ground for
surprise, since, man being of a finite nature, his knowledge must likewise be
of a limited perfection.
17. But we also not unfrequently err in that to which we
are directly impelled by nature, as is the case with invalids who desire drink
or food that would be hurtful to them. It will here, perhaps, be alleged that
the reason why such persons are deceived is that their nature is
corrupted; but this leaves the difficulty untouched, for a sick man is not less
really the creature of God than a man who is in full health; and therefore it
IS as repugnant to the goodness of God that the nature of the former should be
deceitful as it is for that of the latter to be so. And as a clock, composed of
wheels and counter weights, observes not the less accurately all the laws of
nature when it is ill made, and points out the hours incorrectly, than when it
satisfies the desire of the maker in every respect; so likewise if the body of
man be considered as a kind of machine, so made up and composed of bones,
nerves, muscles, veins, blood, and skin, that although there were in it no
mind, it would still exhibit the same motions which it at present manifests
involuntarily, and therefore without the aid of the mind, [and simply by the
dispositions of its organs], I easily discern that it would also be as natural
for such a body, supposing it dropsical, for example, to experience the
parchedness of the throat that is usually accompanied in the mind by the
sensation of thirst, and to be disposed by this parchedness to move its nerves
and its other parts in the way required for drinking, and thus increase its
malady and do itself harm, as it is natural for it, when it is not indisposed
to be stimulated to drink for its good by a similar cause; and although looking
to the use for which a clock was destined by its maker, I may say that it is
deflected from its proper nature when it incorrectly indicates the hours, and
on the same principle, considering the machine of the human body as having been
formed by God for the sake of the motions which it usually manifests, although
I may likewise have ground for thinking that it does not follow the order of
its nature when the throat is parched and drink does not tend to its
preservation, nevertheless I yet plainly discern that this latter acceptation
of the term nature is very different from the other: for this is nothing more
than a certain denomination, depending entirely on my thought, and hence called
extrinsic, by which I compare a sick man and an imperfectly constructed clock
with the idea I have of a man in good health and a well made clock; while by
the other acceptation of nature is understood something which is truly found in
things, and therefore possessed of some truth.
18. But certainly, although in respect of a dropsical body, it is only by way of
exterior denomination that we say its nature is corrupted, when, without
requiring drink, the throat is parched; yet, in respect of the composite whole,
that is, of the mind in its union with the body, it is not a pure denomination,
but really an error of nature, for it to feel thirst when drink would be
hurtful to it: and, accordingly, it still remains to be considered why it is
that the goodness of God does not prevent the nature of man thus taken from
being fallacious.
19. To commence this examination accordingly, I here remark, in the first place,
that there is a vast difference between mind and body, in respect that body,
from its nature, is always divisible, and that mind is entirely indivisible.
For in truth, when I consider the mind, that is, when I consider myself in so
far only as I am a thinking thing, I can distinguish in myself no parts, but I
very clearly discern that I am somewhat absolutely one and entire; and although
the whole mind seems to be united to the whole body, yet, when a foot, an arm,
or any other part is cut off, I am conscious that nothing has been taken from
my mind; nor can the faculties of willing, perceiving, conceiving, etc.,
properly be called its parts, for it is the same mind that is exercised [all
entire] in willing, in perceiving, and in conceiving, etc. But quite the
opposite holds in corporeal or extended things; for I cannot imagine any one of
them [how small soever it may be], which I cannot easily sunder in thought, and
which, therefore, I do not know to be 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 been apprised of it on other grounds.
20. I remark, in the next place, that the mind does not immediately receive the
impression from all the parts of the body, but only from the brain, or perhaps
even from one small part of it, viz., that in which the common sense (senses
communis) is said to be, which as often as it is affected in the same way
gives rise to the same perception in the mind, although meanwhile the other
parts of the body may be diversely disposed, as is proved by innumerable
experiments, which it is unnecessary here to enumerate.
21. I remark, besides, that the nature of body is such that none of its parts can
be moved by another part a little removed from the other, which cannot likewise
be moved in the same way by any one of the parts that lie between those two,
although the most remote part does not act at all. As, for example, in the cord
A, B. C, D, [which is in tension], if its last part D, be pulled, the first
part A, will not be moved in a different way than it would be were one of the
intermediate parts B or c to be pulled, and the last part D meanwhile to remain
fixed. And in the same way, when I feel pain in the foot, the science of
physics teaches me that this sensation is experienced by means of the nerves
dispersed over the foot, which, extending like cords from it to the brain, when
they are contracted in the foot, contract at the same time the inmost parts of
the brain in which they have their origin, and excite in these parts a certain
motion appointed by nature to cause in the mind a sensation of pain, as if
existing in the foot; but as these nerves must pass through the tibia, the leg,
the loins, the back, and neck, in order to reach the brain, it may happen that
although their extremities in the foot are not affected, but only certain of
their parts that pass through the loins or neck, the same movements,
nevertheless, are excited in the brain by this motion as would have been caused
there by a hurt received in the foot, and hence the mind will necessarily feel
pain in the foot, just as if it had been hurt; and the same is true of all the
other perceptions of our senses.
22. I remark, finally, that as each of the movements that are made in the part of
the brain by which the mind is immediately affected, impresses it with but a
single sensation, the most likely supposition in the circumstances is, that
this movement causes the mind to experience, among all the sensations which it
is capable of impressing upon it; that one which is the best fitted, and
generally the most useful for the preservation of the human body when it is in
full health. But experience shows us that all the perceptions which nature has
given us are of such a kind as I have mentioned; and accordingly, there is
nothing found in them that does not manifest the power and goodness of God.
Thus, for example, when the nerves of the foot are violently or more than
usually shaken, the motion passing through the medulla of the spine to the
innermost parts of the brain affords a sign to the mind on which it experiences
a sensation, viz., of pain, as if it were in the foot, by which the mind is
admonished and excited to do its utmost to remove the cause of it as dangerous
and hurtful to the foot. It is true that God could have so constituted the
nature of man as that the same motion in the brain would have informed the mind
of something altogether different: the motion might, for example, have been the
occasion on which the mind became conscious of itself, in so far as it is in
the brain, or in so far as it is in some place intermediate between the foot
and the brain, or, finally, the occasion on which it perceived some other
object quite different, whatever that might be; but nothing of all this would
have so well contributed to the preservation of the body as that which the mind
actually feels. In the same way, when we stand in need of drink, there arises
from this want a certain parchedness in the throat that moves its nerves, and
by means of them the internal parts of the brain; and this movement affects the
mind with the sensation of thirst, because there is nothing on that occasion
which is more useful for us than to be made aware that we have need of drink
for the preservation of our health; and so in other instances.
23. Whence it is quite manifest that, notwithstanding the sovereign goodness of
God, the nature of man, in so far as it is composed of mind and body, cannot
but be sometimes fallacious. For, if there is any cause which excites, not in
the foot, but in some one of the parts of the nerves that stretch from the foot
to the brain, or even in the brain itself, the same movement that is ordinarily
created when the foot is ill affected, pain will be felt, as it were, in the
foot, and the sense will thus be naturally deceived; for as the same movement
in the brain can but impress the mind with the same sensation, and as this
sensation is much more frequently excited by a cause which hurts the foot than
by one acting in a different quarter, it is reasonable that it should lead the
mind to feel pain in the foot rather than in any other part of the body. And if
it sometimes happens that the parchedness of the throat does not arise, as is
usual, from drink being necessary for the health of the body, but from quite
the opposite cause, as is the case with the dropsical, yet it is much better
that it should be deceitful in that instance, than if, on the contrary, it were
continually fallacious when the body is well-disposed;
and the same holds true in other cases.
24. And certainly this consideration is of great service, not only in enabling me
to recognize the errors to which my nature is liable, but likewise in rendering
it more easy to avoid or correct them: for, knowing that all my senses more
usually indicate to me what is true than what is false, in matters relating to
the advantage of the body, and being able almost always to make use of more
than a single sense in examining the same object, and besides this, being able
to use my memory in connecting present with past knowledge, and my
understanding which has already discovered all the causes of my errors, I ought
no longer to fear that falsity may be met with in what is daily presented to me
by the senses. And I ought to reject all the doubts of those bygone days, as
hyperbolical and ridiculous, especially the general uncertainty respecting
sleep, which I could not distinguish from the waking state: for I now find a
very marked difference between the two states, in respect that our memory can
never connect our dreams with each other and with the course of life, in the
way it is in the habit of doing with events that occur when we are awake. And,
in truth, if some one, when I am awake, appeared to me all of a sudden and as
suddenly disappeared, as do the images I see in sleep, so that I could not
observe either whence he came or whither he went, I should not without reason
esteem it either a specter or phantom formed in my brain, rather than a real
man. But when I perceive objects with regard to which I can distinctly
determine both the place whence they come, and that in which they are, and the
time at which they appear to me, and when, without interruption, I can connect
the perception I have of them with the whole of the other parts of my life, I
am perfectly sure that what I thus perceive occurs while I am awake and not
during sleep. And I ought not in the least degree to doubt of the truth of
these presentations, if, after having called together all my senses, my memory,
and my understanding for the purpose of examining them, no deliverance is given
by any one of these faculties which is repugnant to that of any other: for
since God is no deceiver, it necessarily follows that I am not herein deceived.
But because the necessities of action frequently oblige us to come to a
determination before we have had leisure for so careful an examination, it must
be confessed that the life of man is frequently obnoxious to error with respect
to individual objects; and we must, in conclusion, ac. knowledge the weakness
of our nature.