PART II
PART III
PART IV
PART V
PART VI
PREFATORY NOTE BY THE AUTHOR
If this Discourse appear too long to be read at once, it may be divided
into six Parts: and, in the first, will be found various considerations
touching the Sciences; in the second, the principal rules of the Method
which the Author has discovered, in the third, certain of the rules of
Morals which he has deduced from this Method; in the fourth, the
reasonings by which he establishes the existence of God and of the
Human Soul, which are the foundations of his Metaphysic; in the fifth,
the order of the Physical questions which he has investigated, and, in
particular, the explication of the motion of the heart and of some
other difficulties pertaining to Medicine, as also the difference
between the soul of man and that of the brutes; and, in the last, what
the Author believes to be required in order to greater advancement in
the investigation of Nature than has yet been made, with the reasons
that have induced him to write.
PART I
Good sense is, of all things among men, the most equally distributed;
for every one thinks himself so abundantly provided with it, that those
even who are the most difficult to satisfy in everything else, do not
usually desire a larger measure of this quality than they already
possess. And in this it is not likely that all are mistaken the
conviction is rather to be held as testifying that the power of judging
aright and of distinguishing truth from error, which is properly what
is called good sense or reason, is by nature equal in all men; and that
the diversity of our opinions, consequently, does not arise from some
being endowed with a larger share of reason than others, but solely
from this, that we conduct our thoughts along different ways, and do
not fix our attention on the same objects. For to be possessed of a
vigorous mind is not enough; the prime requisite is rightly to apply
it. The greatest minds, as they are capable of the highest excellences,
are open likewise to the greatest aberrations; and those who travel
very slowly may yet make far greater progress, provided they keep
always to the straight road, than those who, while they run, forsake
it.
For myself, I have never fancied my mind to be in any respect more
perfect than those of the generality; on the contrary, I have often
wished that I were equal to some others in promptitude of thought, or
in clearness and distinctness of imagination, or in fullness and
readiness of memory. And besides these, I know of no other qualities
that contribute to the perfection of the mind; for as to the reason or
sense, inasmuch as it is that alone which constitutes us men, and
distinguishes us from the brutes, I am disposed to believe that it is
to be found complete in each individual; and on this point to adopt the
common opinion of philosophers, who say that the difference of greater
and less holds only among the accidents, and not among the forms or
natures of individuals of the same species.
I will not hesitate, however, to avow my belief that it has been my
singular good fortune to have very early in life fallen in with certain
tracks which have conducted me to considerations and maxims, of which I
have formed a method that gives me the means, as I think, of gradually
augmenting my knowledge, and of raising it by little and little to the
highest point which the mediocrity of my talents and the brief duration
of my life will permit me to reach. For I have already reaped from it
such fruits that, although I have been accustomed to think lowly enough
of myself, and although when I look with the eye of a philosopher at
the varied courses and pursuits of mankind at large, I find scarcely
one which does not appear in vain and useless, I nevertheless derive
the highest satisfaction from the progress I conceive myself to have
already made in the search after truth, and cannot help entertaining
such expectations of the future as to believe that if, among the
occupations of men as men, there is any one really excellent and
important, it is that which I have chosen.
After all, it is possible I may be mistaken; and it is but a little
copper and glass, perhaps, that I take for gold and diamonds. I know
how very liable we are to delusion in what relates to ourselves, and
also how much the judgments of our friends are to be suspected when
given in our favor. But I shall endeavor in this discourse to describe
the paths I have followed, and to delineate my life as in a picture, in
order that each one may also be able to judge of them for himself, and
that in the general opinion entertained of them, as gathered from
current report, I myself may have a new help towards instruction to be
added to those I have been in the habit of employing.
My present design, then, is not to teach the method which each ought to
follow for the right conduct of his reason, but solely to describe the
way in which I have endeavored to conduct my own. They who set
themselves to give precepts must of course regard themselves as
possessed of greater skill than those to whom they prescribe; and if
they err in the slightest particular, they subject themselves to
censure. But as this tract is put forth merely as a history, or, if you
will, as a tale, in which, amid some examples worthy of imitation,
there will be found, perhaps, as many more which it were advisable not
to follow, I hope it will prove useful to some without being hurtful to
any, and that my openness will find some favor with all.
From my childhood, I have been familiar with letters; and as I was
given to believe that by their help a clear and certain knowledge of
all that is useful in life might be acquired, I was ardently desirous
of instruction. But as soon as I had finished the entire course of
study, at the close of which it is customary to be admitted into the
order of the learned, I completely changed my opinion. For I found
myself involved in so many doubts and errors, that I was convinced I
had advanced no farther in all my attempts at learning, than the
discovery at every turn of my own ignorance. And yet I was studying in
one of the most celebrated schools in Europe, in which I thought there
must be learned men, if such were anywhere to be found. I had been
taught all that others learned there; and not contented with the
sciences actually taught us, I had, in addition, read all the books
that had fallen into my hands, treating of such branches as are
esteemed the most curious and rare. I knew the judgment which others
had formed of me; and I did not find that I was considered inferior to
my fellows, although there were among them some who were already marked
out to fill the places of our instructors. And, in fine, our age
appeared to me as flourishing, and as fertile in powerful minds as any
preceding one. I was thus led to take the liberty of judging of all
other men by myself, and of concluding that there was no science in
existence that was of such a nature as I had previously been given to
believe.
I still continued, however, to hold in esteem the studies of the
schools. I was aware that the languages taught in them are necessary to
the understanding of the writings of the ancients; that the grace of
fable stirs the mind; that the memorable deeds of history elevate it;
and, if read with discretion, aid in forming the judgment; that the
perusal of all excellent books is, as it were, to interview with the
noblest men of past ages, who have written them, and even a studied
interview, in which are discovered to us only their choicest thoughts;
that eloquence has incomparable force and beauty; that poesy has its
ravishing graces and delights; that in the mathematics there are many
refined discoveries eminently suited to gratify the inquisitive, as
well as further all the arts an lessen the labour of man; that numerous
highly useful precepts and exhortations to virtue are contained in
treatises on morals; that theology points out the path to heaven; that
philosophy affords the means of discoursing with an appearance of truth
on all matters, and commands the admiration of the more simple; that
jurisprudence, medicine, and the other sciences, secure for their
cultivators honors and riches; and, in fine, that it is useful to
bestow some attention upon all, even upon those abounding the most in
superstition and error, that we may be in a position to determine their
real value, and guard against being deceived.
But I believed that I had already given sufficient time to languages,
and likewise to the reading of the writings of the ancients, to their
histories and fables. For to hold converse with those of other ages and
to travel, are almost the same thing. It is useful to know something of
the manners of different nations, that we may be enabled to form a more
correct judgment regarding our own, and be prevented from thinking that
everything contrary to our customs is ridiculous and irrational, a
conclusion usually come to by those whose experience has been limited
to their own country. On the other hand, when too much time is occupied
in traveling, we become strangers to our native country; and the over
curious in the customs of the past are generally ignorant of those of
the present. Besides, fictitious narratives lead us to imagine the
possibility of many events that are impossible; and even the most
faithful histories, if they do not wholly misrepresent matters, or
exaggerate their importance to render the account of them more worthy
of perusal, omit, at least, almost always the meanest and least
striking of the attendant circumstances; hence it happens that the
remainder does not represent the truth, and that such as regulate their
conduct by examples drawn from this source, are apt to fall into the
extravagances of the knight-errants of romance, and to entertain
projects that exceed their powers.
I esteemed eloquence highly, and was in raptures with poesy; but I
thought that both were gifts of nature rather than fruits of study.
Those in whom the faculty of reason is predominant, and who most
skillfully dispose their thoughts with a view to render them clear and
intelligible, are always the best able to persuade others of the truth
of what they lay down, though they should speak only in the language of
Lower Brittany, and be wholly ignorant of the rules of rhetoric; and
those whose minds are stored with the most agreeable fancies, and who
can give expression to them with the greatest embellishment and
harmony, are still the best poets, though unacquainted with the art of
poetry.
I was especially delighted with the mathematics, on account of the
certitude and evidence of their reasonings; but I had not as yet a
precise knowledge of their true use; and thinking that they but
contributed to the advancement of the mechanical arts, I was astonished
that foundations, so strong and solid, should have had no loftier
superstructure reared on them. On the other hand, I compared the
disquisitions of the ancient moralists to very towering and magnificent
palaces with no better foundation than sand and mud: they laud the
virtues very highly, and exhibit them as estimable far above anything
on earth; but they give us no adequate criterion of virtue, and
frequently that which they designate with so fine a name is but apathy,
or pride, or despair, or parricide.
I revered our theology, and aspired as much as any one to reach heaven:
but being given assuredly to understand that the way is not less open
to the most ignorant than to the most learned, and that the revealed
truths which lead to heaven are above our comprehension, I did not
presume to subject them to the impotency of my reason; and I thought
that in order competently to undertake their examination, there was
need of some special help from heaven, and of being more than man.
Of philosophy I will say nothing, except that when I saw that it had
been cultivated for many ages by the most distinguished men, and that
yet there is not a single matter within its sphere which is not still
in dispute, and nothing, therefore, which is above doubt, I did not
presume to anticipate that my success would be greater in it than that
of others; and further, when I considered the number of conflicting
opinions touching a single matter that may be upheld by learned men,
while there can be but one true, I reckoned as well-nigh false all that
was only probable.
As to the other sciences, inasmuch as these borrow their principles
from philosophy, I judged that no solid superstructures could be reared
on foundations so infirm; and neither the honor nor the gain held out
by them was sufficient to determine me to their cultivation: for I was
not, thank Heaven, in a condition which compelled me to make
merchandise of science for the bettering of my fortune; and though I
might not profess to scorn glory as a cynic, I yet made very slight
account of that honor which I hoped to acquire only through fictitious
titles. And, in fine, of false sciences I thought I knew the worth
sufficiently to escape being deceived by the professions of an
alchemist, the predictions of an astrologer, the impostures of a
magician, or by the artifices and boasting of any of those who profess
to know things of which they are ignorant.
For these reasons, as soon as my age permitted me to pass from under
the control of my instructors, I entirely abandoned the study of
letters, and resolved no longer to seek any other science than the
knowledge of myself, or of the great book of the world. I spent the
remainder of my youth in traveling, in visiting courts and armies, in
holding intercourse with men of different dispositions and ranks, in
collecting varied experience, in proving myself in the different
situations into which fortune threw me, and, above all, in making such
reflection on the matter of my experience as to secure my improvement.
For it occurred to me that I should find much more truth in the
reasonings of each individual with reference to the affairs in which he
is personally interested, and the issue of which must presently punish
him if he has judged amiss, than in those conducted by a man of letters
in his study, regarding speculative matters that are of no practical
moment, and followed by no consequences to himself, farther, perhaps,
than that they foster his vanity the better the more remote they are
from common sense; requiring, as they must in this case, the exercise
of greater ingenuity and art to render them probable. In addition, I
had always a most earnest desire to know how to distinguish the true
from the false, in order that I might be able clearly to discriminate
the right path in life, and proceed in it with confidence.
It is true that, while busied only in considering the manners of other
men, I found here, too, scarce any ground for settled conviction, and
remarked hardly less contradiction among them than in the opinions of
the philosophers. So that the greatest advantage I derived from the
study consisted in this, that, observing many things which, however
extravagant and ridiculous to our apprehension, are yet by common
consent received and approved by other great nations, I learned to
entertain too decided a belief in regard to nothing of the truth of
which I had been persuaded merely by example and custom; and thus I
gradually extricated myself from many errors powerful enough to darken
our natural intelligence, and incapacitate us in great measure from
listening to reason. But after I had been occupied several years in
thus studying the book of the world, and in essaying to gather some
experience, I at length resolved to make myself an object of study, and
to employ all the powers of my mind in choosing the paths I ought to
follow, an undertaking which was accompanied with greater success than
it would have been had I never quitted my country or my books.