In order to be always disposed to judge well, it seems to
me, only two things are needed: •knowledge of the truth and
•a dependable practice of remembering and assenting to this
knowledge whenever the occasion demands. But because
nobody except God knows everything perfectly, we have to
settle for knowing the truths that are most useful to us.
(1) The first and chief of these is that there is a God
on whom all things depend, whose perfections are infinite,
whose power is immense and whose decrees are infallible.
This teaches us to accept with a good spirit everything that
happens to us, as expressly sent by God. Moreover, since the
true object of love is perfection, when we lift up our minds
to think about God as he is we find ourselves naturally so
inclined to love him that we even rejoice in our afflictions,
through the thought that he wills that they should come to
us.
(2) The second thing we must know is the nature of
our soul: that it •doesn’t need the body in order to stay
in existence, •is much nobler than the body, and •is capable
of enjoying countless satisfactions that aren’t to be found
in this life. This prevents us from fearing death, and moves
us so far from caring about the things of this world that we
regard as negligible anything that fortune can do to us.
(3) We can be greatly helped towards this ·frame of mind
or condition of soul· by judging the works of God in the way
they deserve and by having the capacious idea of the extent
of the universe that I tried to make conceivable in the third
book of my Principles. For if we imagine that
•beyond the heavens there is nothing but imaginary
spaces, and that
•all the heavens are made only for the service of the
earth and
•the earth is made only for man,
this ·has three bad effects on us·. •It inclines us to think
that this earth is our principal home and that this life is the
best life we will have. •Instead of knowing the perfections
that we really do have, we get a sense of our perfections
by comparing ourselves with other creatures to which we
attribute imperfections that they don’t have. •With preposterous
self-importance we want to be in God’s confidence and
to join him in running the world—which causes an infinity
of pointless anxieties and frustrations.
(4) After acknowledging the goodness of God, the immortality
of our souls and the immensity of the universe, there is
one more truth that seems to me to be most useful to know,
namely this:
Although each of us is a person separate from others,
and therefore with interests that differ somewhat from
those of the rest of the world, each of us ought still
to think that he couldn’t survive on his own, and
that he is really one of the parts of the universe, and
more particularly a part of this earth, of this state,
of this society, of this family—to which he is joined
by where he lives, by his oath ·of allegiance·, by his
birth. And the interests of the whole of which he is a
part should always be put before his own individual
personal interests.
In a measured and thoughtful way, however; for •it would
be wrong for him to expose himself to a great evil in order to
procure only a slight benefit for his relatives or his country,
and •if he on his own is worth more than all the rest of his
city, it would be wrong for him to sacrifice himself to save
it. But someone who saw everything in relation to himself
wouldn’t shrink from greatly harming other men when he
believed that this would bring him some small benefit. Such
a person would have no true friendship, no fidelity—quite
generally no virtue. On the other hand, someone who
•considers himself a part of the community takes pleasure
in doing good to everyone, and isn’t afraid of even risking
his life in the service of others when the occasion demands;
indeed, he would be willing to lose his soul, if he could, to
save others. So this way of •considering oneself—·namely as
a part of something larger·—is the source and origin of all
the most heroic actions men do. ·But let us be careful about
what we identify as heroism·. Someone who risks death for
reasons of vanity (he hopes to be praised) or out of stupidity
(he doesn’t see the danger) is to be pitied more than prized.
Now think about someone who risks death because he thinks
it is his duty, or suffers some other harm in order to bring
good to others. It may be that when he thinks about it he
doesn’t think he did it because he owes more to the public
of which he is a part than to himself in particular, but
that is why he acted as he did, and this reason has become
confused in his mind. A person is naturally drawn to have
it—·i.e. this thought of being part of a larger whole·—when
he knows and loves God as he should. For then, abandoning
himself completely to God’s will, he strips himself of his own
interests and has only one passion—to do what he believes
would be agreeable to God. This brings him satisfactions of
the mind, contentments, that are worth incomparably more
than all the transient little joys that depend on the senses.
(5) In addition to these truths that generalize over all our
actions, we ought to know many other truths that concern
more particularly each individual action. The chief of these,
in my view, are the ones I mentioned in my last letter, namely:
•All our passions represent to us the goods that they
incite us to seek as being much greater than they
really are;
•The pleasures of the body are never as lasting as those
of the soul, or as great when we have them as they
appear when we are looking forward to them.
We should carefully take this in, so that •when we feel ourselves
moved by some passion we’ll suspend our judgment
until it calms down and •we won’t let ourselves easily be
deceived by the false appearance of the goods of this world.
(6) I have only this to add, that we ought to examine in
detail all the customs of the place where we are living, so as
to see how far they should be followed. Although we can’t
have certain demonstrations of everything, we ought to make
choices and (in matters of custom) embrace the opinions
that seem the most probable. Why? So that when there’s
a need for action we won’t be irresolute; because nothing
causes regret and repentance except irresolution.
Finally, just this: As I said before, if one is to be disposed
always to judge well, one needs not only •knowledge of the
truth but also •habit. ·Here is why·. Suppose that in the past
we have been convinced of some truth P by clear and evident
reasons; we can’t keep anything—·e.g. those reasons·— in
mind continually; so in the course of time we might be led
by false appearances to turn away from believing P; and our
protection against that is by long and frequent meditation
on P to imprint it in our mind so ·deeply· that it turns into a
•habit. In this sense the scholastics are right when they say
that virtues are habits; for our failings are indeed usually
due not to lack of •theoretical knowledge of what we should
do but to lack of practical knowledge—i.e. lack of a firm habit
of belief.
Descartes
-->
me, only two things are needed: •knowledge of the truth and
•a dependable practice of remembering and assenting to this
knowledge whenever the occasion demands. But because
nobody except God knows everything perfectly, we have to
settle for knowing the truths that are most useful to us.
(1) The first and chief of these is that there is a God
on whom all things depend, whose perfections are infinite,
whose power is immense and whose decrees are infallible.
This teaches us to accept with a good spirit everything that
happens to us, as expressly sent by God. Moreover, since the
true object of love is perfection, when we lift up our minds
to think about God as he is we find ourselves naturally so
inclined to love him that we even rejoice in our afflictions,
through the thought that he wills that they should come to
us.
(2) The second thing we must know is the nature of
our soul: that it •doesn’t need the body in order to stay
in existence, •is much nobler than the body, and •is capable
of enjoying countless satisfactions that aren’t to be found
in this life. This prevents us from fearing death, and moves
us so far from caring about the things of this world that we
regard as negligible anything that fortune can do to us.
(3) We can be greatly helped towards this ·frame of mind
or condition of soul· by judging the works of God in the way
they deserve and by having the capacious idea of the extent
of the universe that I tried to make conceivable in the third
book of my Principles. For if we imagine that
•beyond the heavens there is nothing but imaginary
spaces, and that
•all the heavens are made only for the service of the
earth and
•the earth is made only for man,
this ·has three bad effects on us·. •It inclines us to think
that this earth is our principal home and that this life is the
best life we will have. •Instead of knowing the perfections
that we really do have, we get a sense of our perfections
by comparing ourselves with other creatures to which we
attribute imperfections that they don’t have. •With preposterous
self-importance we want to be in God’s confidence and
to join him in running the world—which causes an infinity
of pointless anxieties and frustrations.
(4) After acknowledging the goodness of God, the immortality
of our souls and the immensity of the universe, there is
one more truth that seems to me to be most useful to know,
namely this:
Although each of us is a person separate from others,
and therefore with interests that differ somewhat from
those of the rest of the world, each of us ought still
to think that he couldn’t survive on his own, and
that he is really one of the parts of the universe, and
more particularly a part of this earth, of this state,
of this society, of this family—to which he is joined
by where he lives, by his oath ·of allegiance·, by his
birth. And the interests of the whole of which he is a
part should always be put before his own individual
personal interests.
In a measured and thoughtful way, however; for •it would
be wrong for him to expose himself to a great evil in order to
procure only a slight benefit for his relatives or his country,
and •if he on his own is worth more than all the rest of his
city, it would be wrong for him to sacrifice himself to save
it. But someone who saw everything in relation to himself
wouldn’t shrink from greatly harming other men when he
believed that this would bring him some small benefit. Such
a person would have no true friendship, no fidelity—quite
generally no virtue. On the other hand, someone who
•considers himself a part of the community takes pleasure
in doing good to everyone, and isn’t afraid of even risking
his life in the service of others when the occasion demands;
indeed, he would be willing to lose his soul, if he could, to
save others. So this way of •considering oneself—·namely as
a part of something larger·—is the source and origin of all
the most heroic actions men do. ·But let us be careful about
what we identify as heroism·. Someone who risks death for
reasons of vanity (he hopes to be praised) or out of stupidity
(he doesn’t see the danger) is to be pitied more than prized.
Now think about someone who risks death because he thinks
it is his duty, or suffers some other harm in order to bring
good to others. It may be that when he thinks about it he
doesn’t think he did it because he owes more to the public
of which he is a part than to himself in particular, but
that is why he acted as he did, and this reason has become
confused in his mind. A person is naturally drawn to have
it—·i.e. this thought of being part of a larger whole·—when
he knows and loves God as he should. For then, abandoning
himself completely to God’s will, he strips himself of his own
interests and has only one passion—to do what he believes
would be agreeable to God. This brings him satisfactions of
the mind, contentments, that are worth incomparably more
than all the transient little joys that depend on the senses.
(5) In addition to these truths that generalize over all our
actions, we ought to know many other truths that concern
more particularly each individual action. The chief of these,
in my view, are the ones I mentioned in my last letter, namely:
•All our passions represent to us the goods that they
incite us to seek as being much greater than they
really are;
•The pleasures of the body are never as lasting as those
of the soul, or as great when we have them as they
appear when we are looking forward to them.
We should carefully take this in, so that •when we feel ourselves
moved by some passion we’ll suspend our judgment
until it calms down and •we won’t let ourselves easily be
deceived by the false appearance of the goods of this world.
(6) I have only this to add, that we ought to examine in
detail all the customs of the place where we are living, so as
to see how far they should be followed. Although we can’t
have certain demonstrations of everything, we ought to make
choices and (in matters of custom) embrace the opinions
that seem the most probable. Why? So that when there’s
a need for action we won’t be irresolute; because nothing
causes regret and repentance except irresolution.
Finally, just this: As I said before, if one is to be disposed
always to judge well, one needs not only •knowledge of the
truth but also •habit. ·Here is why·. Suppose that in the past
we have been convinced of some truth P by clear and evident
reasons; we can’t keep anything—·e.g. those reasons·— in
mind continually; so in the course of time we might be led
by false appearances to turn away from believing P; and our
protection against that is by long and frequent meditation
on P to imprint it in our mind so ·deeply· that it turns into a
•habit. In this sense the scholastics are right when they say
that virtues are habits; for our failings are indeed usually
due not to lack of •theoretical knowledge of what we should
do but to lack of practical knowledge—i.e. lack of a firm habit
of belief.
Descartes
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