One of the Largest and Most Visited Sources of Philosophical Texts on the Internet.



ON THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE MIND


BENEDICT DE SPINOZA



    ON THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE MIND
   Benedict de Spinoza (1677)

After experience had taught me that all things which are ordinarily encountered in common life are vain and futile, and when I saw that all things which occasioned me any anxiety or fear had in themselves nothing of good or evil, except in so far as the mind was moved by them; I at length determined to inquire if there were anything which was a true good capable of imparting itself, by which the mind could be solely affected to the exclusion of all else; whether, indeed, anything existed by whose discovery and acquisition I might be put in possession of a joy continuous and supreme to all eternity.

I say that I at length determined; for at the first glance it appeared to me to be foolish to be willing to part with something certain for something then uncertain. I saw, forsooth, the advantages which accrue from honor and riches, and that I should be forced to abstain from seeking these if I wished to apply myself seriously to another and new undertaking; and if, by chance, perfect happiness should lie in those things, I perceived that I must go without it; but if, on the other hand, it did not lie in them, and I applied myself only to them, I must then also go without the highest happiness. I turned it over, therefore, in my mind whether it might not perchance be possible to carry out my new purpose or, at least, to arrive at some certainty with regard to it, without changing the order and ordinary plan of my life, a thing I had often attempted in vain. Now, the things which generally present themselves in life, and are considered by men as the highest good, so far as can be gathered from their actions, are included in these three, riches, honor, and sensual indulgence. By these three the mind is so distracted, that it is scarcely possible for it to think of any other good thing. For example, as regards sensual indulgence, the mind is engrossed by it to such a degree as to rest in it as in some good, and is thereby entirely prevented from thinking of anything else, but, after it has been satisfied, there follows a very great melancholy, which, if it does not check the action of the mind, nevertheless disturbs and blunts it. Through the pursuit of honor and riches also the mind is not a little distracted, especially if the latter are sought for their own sake, because in that case they are supposed to be the highest good. By honor the mind is even more distracted; for it is always regarded as a good in itself, and, as it were, the ultimate end to which everything is directed. Again, in the case of honor and riches there is no repentance, as in the case of sensual indulgence, but the more we have of them, the more our joy is increased; and consequently we are more and more incited to increase them; nevertheless, if by any chance our expectations are deceived, then very great sorrow arises. Finally, honor is a great hindrance to us, because it is necessary, if we would attain it, to direct our lives according to the notions of men -- that is to say, by avoiding what they commonly avoid, and seeking what they commonly seek.

Since, therefore, I saw that all these things stood in the way of my devoting myself to any new purpose; that, in fact, they were so opposed to it, that either they or it must be relinquished, I was compelled to inquire what was most useful to me, for as I have said, it seemed as if I were willing to lose a certain good for that which was uncertain. But after I had reflected a little on the subject, I discovered, in the first place, that if forsaking riches and honor and sensual indulgence, I should address myself to my new purpose, I should be giving up a good uncertain in its very nature, as may clearly be seen from what has already been said, for one uncertain not in its very nature (for I sought a good which was stable), but only so far as its attainment was concerned, and after careful reflection, I came to see that, if only I could apply myself wholly to thought, I should then be giving up certain evils for a certain good. For I saw that I was situated in the greatest danger, and I forced myself to seek with all my strength a remedy, even although it might be uncertain, just as a sick man suffering from a mortal disease, who foresees certain death unless a remedy be applied, is forced to seek it with all his strength, even though it be uncertain, for therein lies the whole of his hope. All those things, however, which the majority of persons pursue, not only contribute no means whereby to preserve our being, but even are a hindrance to its preservation. They frequently cause the destruction of those who possess them, and always cause the destruction of those who are possessed by them.

For there are very many examples of men who have suffered persecution even to death for the sake of their riches, and also of men, who, in order that they might obtain wealth, have exposed themselves to so many dangers that at length they have paid with their lives the penalty of their folly. Nor are there fewer examples of men, who, in order that they might obtain honor, or guard it, have endured most miserable calamities; and, lastly, innumerable are the examples of those who, through excess of sensual indulgence, have hastened their death. The cause of these evils appeared to be that all happiness or unhappiness solely depends upon the quality of the object to which we are attached by love. For on account of that which is not loved no strife will arise, there will be no sorrow if it perishes, no jealousy if it is appropriated by another, no fear, no hatred, and, in a word, no agitations of the mind. All these, however, arise from the love of that which is perishable, as all those things are of which we have just spoken. But love for an object eternal and infinite feeds the mind with joy alone, and a joy which is free from all sorrow. This is something greatly to be desired and to be sought with all our strength.

But not without reason did I use the words if I could but apply myself wholly to thought. For although I saw all this so clearly in my mind, I could not therefore put aside all avarice, sensual desire, and love of honor. This one thing I saw, that so long as my mind was occupied with these thoughts, so long it was turned away from the things mentioned above, and seriously reflected on the new purpose. This confronted me greatly. For I saw that those evils were not of such a kind that they would not yield to remedies. And although in the beginning these intervals were rare and lasted but for a very short time, nevertheless, when the true good was by degrees better known to me, they became more frequent and longer, especially when I came to see that the acquisition of wealth, or sensual desire and love of honor, are injurious so long as they are sought for their own sake and not as means for other things; but if they are sought as means they will be enjoyed in moderation and will not be injurious: on the contrary, they will be very conducive to the end for which they are sought, as we shall show in the proper place.

Here I will explain, but only briefly, what I understand by a true good, and at the same time what is the highest good. In order that this may be rightly understood, it is to be observed that the words "good" and "evil" are only used relatively, so that one and the same thing may be called good and evil according to its different relations, just as from different points of view it may be called perfect or imperfect. For nothing considered in its own nature can be called perfect or imperfect, especially after we have discerned that everything comes to pass according to an eternal order and according to fixed laws of nature. But since human weakness cannot reach that order by its own thought, and meanwhile man can imagine a human nature much stronger than his own, and sees no obstacle to prevent his acquiring such a nature, he is urged to seek the means which may lead him to such perfection. Everything, therefore, which may be a means by which to arrive thereat, he calls a true good, but the highest good is to obtain, with as many other individuals as possible, the enjoyment of that nature. But what that nature is we shall show in the proper place -- that it is a knowledge of the union between the mind and the whole of nature. This, therefore, is the end towards which I strive -- to acquire this nature and to endeavor that others may acquire it with me -- that is to say, it is essential to my happiness to try to make many others understand what I understand, so that their intellect and desire may entirely agree with my intellect and desire. In order to achieve this end, it is necessary to understand so much of nature as may be sufficient for acquiring the desired nature; then to form a society such as is desirable for enabling as many people as possible with the greatest ease and security to acquire it. Furthermore, we must pay attention to moral philosophy as well as to the science of the education of children, and because health is by no means an insignificant means to the attainment of this end, the whole of medicine is to be studied. Because also many things which are difficult are rendered easier by art and we can thereby gain much time and comfort in life, mechanics are by no means to be despised. But above everything a means of healing the mind must be sought out, and of purifying it as much as possible at the outset so that it may happily understand things without error and as completely as possible. Hence everybody can now see that I wish to direct all the sciences to a single end and purpose, namely, that we may reach the highest human perfection of which we have spoken. Therefore everything in the sciences which in no way advances us towards our end will be rejected as useless, that is to say, in one word, all our actions as well as our thoughts are to be directed to this end. Since, however, while we are seeking to attain it and are endeavoring to constrain our intellect into the right way, it is necessary to live, we must first of all assume certain rules of life to be good. They are these: --

I. To speak and act in accordance with the notions of the majority, provided no hindrance thereby arises to the attainment of our purpose. For we can obtain not a little profit from them, if we conform as much as possible to their notions, and, besides, in this way they will lend friendly ears to listen to the truth.

II. To indulge in pleasures only so far as is consistent with the preservation of health.

III. To seek only so much of wealth or of anything else as is sufficient to preserve life and health, and to conform to such customs of the state as are not opposed to our purpose. Having laid down these rules, I will attempt that which stands first, and is to be achieved before anything, that is to say, to improve the intellect and make it fit to understand things in the way which is necessary in order to obtain our end. To do this, natural order requires that I should here review all the kinds of knowledge which I have hitherto possessed whereby to affirm or deny positively, in order that I may choose the best of them all, and at the same time may begin to know my powers and that nature which I wish to perfect.

If I consider accurately, they may all be reduced generally to four.

I. There is the knowledge which we derive from hearing or from some arbitrary sign.

II. There is the knowledge which we derive from vague experience, that is to say, from experience which is independent of the intellect and which is so called only because it presents itself casually and we have no experimental proof to the contrary. Therefore it abides with us undisturbed.

III. There is the knowledge which arises when the essence of a thing is deduced from another thing, but not adequately. This happens when we either infer the cause from some effect, or when we make an inference from some universal which is always accompanied by some property.

IV. Finally there is the knowledge which arises when a thing is perceived through its essence alone, or through the knowledge of its proximate cause. All this I will illustrate by examples. From mere hearing I know my birthday, and that I had certain parents, and other things of the same kind which I have never doubted. Through vague experience I know that I shall die, for I affirm it because I have seen other people die of the same nature as myself, although they have not all lived equally long, nor have they died of the same disease. Again through vague experience I also know that oil is the proper food for feeding flame, and that water is fit for extinguishing it; I know also that a dog is a barking animal and man is a rational animal, and in this way I have learned nearly everything which appertains to the service of life. We deduce from some other thing in this way: when we clearly perceive that we are sensible of a particular body and no other, then we clearly deduce, I say, from that perception that our mind is united to that body, and that this union is the cause of that sensation but we cannot understand directly from it the nature of that union and of sensation. Again, after I have come to know the nature of sight, and at the same time that it has this property, that at a great distance we see one and the same thing to be less than when we see it near at hand, I deduce that the sun is greater than he appears to be, and other conclusions of the same kind.

Finally, a thing is perceived through its essence alone, when from the fact that I have known something, I understand what it is to have known something; as, for instance, from the fact that I have known the essence of the soul I understand it to be united to the body. By this kind of knowledge we know that two and three are five, and that if there be two lines parallel to a third, they are parallel to one another. But the things which I can as yet understand by this kind of knowledge are very few.

In order that all these things may be better understood I will give only one example as follows. Three numbers are given: a fourth is required which shall be to the third as the second is to the first. In such a case merchants generally say that they know what is to be done in order to find the fourth, because they have not as yet forgotten the rule which they heard nakedly, without any demonstration, from their teachers. Others from their experience of particular cases construct a universal axiom. When, for example, the fourth number is self-evident, as in the series 2, 4, 3, 6, they see that if the second be multiplied by the third and the product divided by the first the quotient is 6. Since they observe that the quotient is the same number which, without this rule, they knew to be the proportional, they conclude that the rule is always valid for the discovery of a fourth proportional number. Mathematicians, however, by the help of the demonstration of Euclid, Prop. 19, bk. vii, know what numbers are proportional to one another -- that is to say, that from the nature and property of proportion a number which is the product of the first and fourth is equal to a number which is the product of the second and third, but they do not see the adequate proportionality of the given numbers, or if they do see it, it is not by the help of this proposition, but intuitively and without any calculation.

In order to select the best of these kinds of knowledge it is necessary that we should briefly enumerate what are the necessary means to the attainment of our end. They are these: --

1. To know exactly our own nature which we desire to perfect, and at the same time so much of the nature of things as is necessary.

2. To form correct inductions with regard to the differences, agreements, and oppositions of things.

3. To understand properly how far they can and how far they cannot be acted upon.

4. To compare the result with the nature and power of man. It will then clearly appear what is the highest perfection to which man can attain. Having thus considered these matters, let us see what kind of knowledge we ought to choose. As to the first, without taking into account that it is something altogether uncertain, it is self-evident that from hearing, as appears from our example, no essence of a thing can be perceived, and since, as will afterwards be seen, the particular existence of a thing is not known unless its essence be known, we clearly infer that all the certainty which we derive from hearing must be distinguished from science. For no one can be affected by simple hearing unless his own intellect has first acted.

As to the second, no one can say that he obtains thereby the idea of that proportion which he seeks. Not only is it something altogether uncertain, not only is no definite object in view, but by means of it nothing of natural objects is ever perceived save accidents, which are never clearly understood unless the essences of the things be previously known. Therefore also this method is to be set aside.

By the third it may in some measure he said that we have an idea of the thing, and that thence we can conclude without danger of error, but, nevertheless, this by itself will not be the means whereby we may obtain our perfection.

The fourth mode alone grasps the adequate essence of the thing without danger of error, and therefore is the one of which we are to avail ourselves above all others. We will take care to explain in what manner it is to be applied, so that by this kind of knowledge unknown things may be understood by us, and how this may be achieved as succinctly as possibly.

End

SPINOZA - NEXT  - ON THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE UNDERSTANDING



?g?b?v‚Ö