Six metaphysical meditations · René Descartes
MEDITAT. II.
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 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.
Wherefore let us proceed and consider, whether I perceived more _perfectly_ and _evidently_ what the Wax was, when I first look’d on’t, and believed that I knew it by my outward _senses_, or at least by my _common sense_ (as they call it) that is to say, _by my imagination_; or whether at present I _better understand_ it, after I have more diligently enquired both _what it is_, and how it may be _known_. Surely it would be a foolish thing to make it matter of doubt to know which of these parts are true; What was there in my first _perception_ that was _distinct?_ What was there that seem’d not incident to every other Animal? But now when I distinguish the Wax from its outward adherents, and consider it as if it were naked, with it’s coverings pull’d off, then I cannot but really perceive it with my mind, though yet perhaps my judgment may erre.
But what shall I now say as to my _mind_, or my _self_? (for as yet I admit nothing as belonging to me but a _mind_.) Why (shall I say?) should not I, who seem to perceive this Wax so _distinctly_, know my _self_ not only more _truly_ and more _certainly_, but more _distinctly_ and _evidently_? For if I judge that _this Wax exists_, because I _see_ this Wax; surely it will be much more _evident_, that I _my self exist_, because _I see this Wax_; for it may be that this that I see is not really Wax, also it may be that I have no eyes wherewith to see any thing; but it cannot be, when I _see_, or (which is the same thing) when _I think that I see_, that I who _think_ should not _exist_. The same thing will follow if I _judge that this Wax exists_, because I _touch_, or _imagine_ it, &c. And what has been said of Wax, may be apply’d to all other outward things. Moreover, if the _notion_ of Wax seems more _distinct_ after it is made known to me, not only by my _sight_ or _touch_, but by more and other causes; How much the more _distinctly_ must I confess my _self known_ unto my _self_, seeing that all sort of reasoning which furthers me in the _perception_ of _Wax_, or any other _Body_, does also encrease the proofs of the _nature_ of my _Mind_. But there are so many more things in the very _Mind_ it self, by which the _notion_ of it may be made more _distinct_, that those things which drawn from _Body_ conduce to its knowledge are scarce to be _mention’d_.
And now behold of my own accord am I come to the place I would be in; for seeing I have now discover’d that _Bodies themselves_ are not _properly perceived_ by our _senses_ or _imagination_, but only by our _understanding_, and are not therefore _perceived_, because they are _felt_ or _seen_, but because they are _understood_; it plainly appears to me, that nothing can possibly be _perceived_ by _me easier_, or more _evidently_, than my _Mind_. But because I cannot so soon shake off the Acquaintance of my former Opinion, I am willing to stop here, that this my new knowledge may be better fixt in my memory the longer I meditate thereon.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.