Meditation IV by Ren Descartes Lyrics
Meditation IV.
Of theTrue and the False.
I have been well accustomed these past days to detach my
mind from my senses, and I have accurately observed that there
are very few things that one knows with certainty respecting
corporeal objects, that there are many more which are known to
us respecting the human mind, and yet more still regarding God
Himself; so that I shall now without any difficulty abstract
my thoughts from the consideration of [sensible or] imaginable
objects, and carry them to those which, being withdrawn from
all contact with matter, are purely intelligible. And
certainly the idea which I possess of the human mind inasmuch
as it is a thinking thing, and not extended in length, width
and depth, nor participating in anything pertaining to body,
is incomparably more distinct than is the idea of any
corporeal thing. And when I consider that I doubt, that is to
say, that I am an incomplete and dependent being, the idea of
a being that is complete and independent, that is of God,
presents itself to my mind with so much distinctness and
clearness¥and from the fact alone that this idea is found in
me, or that I who possess this idea exist, I conclude so
certainly that God exists, and that my existence depends
entirely on Him in every moment of my life¥that I do not think
that the human mind is capable of knowing anything with more
evidence and certitude. And it seems to me that I now have
before me a road which will lead us from the contemplation of
the true God (in whom all the treasures of science and wisdom
are contained) to the knowledge of the other objects of the
universe.
For, first of all, I recognise it to be impossible that
He should ever deceive me; for in all fraud and deception some
imperfection is to be found, and although it may appear that
the power of deception is a mark of subtilty or power, yet the
desire to deceive without doubt testifies to malice or
feebleness, and accordingly cannot be found in God.
In the next place I experienced in myself a certain
capacity for judging which I have doubtless received from God,
like all the other things that I possess; and as He could not
desire to deceive me, it is clear that He has not given me a
faculty that will lead me to err if I use it aright.
And no doubt respecting this matter could remain, if it
were not that the consequence would seem to follow that I can
thus never be deceived; for if I hold all that I possess from
God, and if He has not placed in me the capacity for error, it
seems as though I could never fall into error. And it is true
that when I think only of God [and direct my mind wholly to
Him],1 I discover [in myself] no cause of error, or falsity;
yet directly afterwards, when recurring to myself, experience
shows me that I am nevertheless subject to an infinitude of
errors, as to which, when we come to investigate them more
closely, I notice that not only is there a real and positive
idea of God or of a Being of supreme perfection present to my
mind, but also, so to speak, a certain negative idea of
nothing, that is, of that which is infinitely removed from any
kind of perfection; and that I am in a sense something
intermediate between God and nought, i.e. placed in such a
manner between the supreme Being and non-being, that there is
in truth nothing in me that can lead to error in so far as a
sovereign Being has formed me; but that, as I in some degree
participate likewise in nought or in non-being, i.e. in so far
as I am not myself the supreme Being, and as I find myself
subject to an infinitude of imperfections, I ought not to be
astonished if I should fall into error. Thus do I recognise
that error, in so far as it is such, is not a real thing
depending on God, but simply a defect; and therefore, in order
to fall into it, that I have no need to possess a special
faculty given me by God for this very purpose, but that I fall
into error from the fact that the power given me by God for
the purpose of distinguishing truth from error is not
infinite.
Nevertheless this does not quite satisfy me; for error is
not a pure negation [i.e. is not the dimple defect or want of
some perfection which ought not to be mine], but it is a lack
of some knowledge which it seems that I ought to possess. And
on considering the nature of God it does not appear to me
possible that He should have given me a faculty which is not
perfect of its kind, that is, which is wanting in some
perfection due to it. For if it is true that the more skilful
the artizan, the more perfect is the work of his hands, what
can have been produced by this supreme Creator of all things
that is not in all its parts perfect? And certainly there is
no doubt that God could have created me so that I could never
have been subject to error; it is also certain that He ever
wills what is best; is it then better that I should be subject
to err than that I should not?
In considering this more attentively, it occurs to me in
the first place that I should not be astonished if my
intelligence is not capable of comprehending why God acts as
He does; and that there is thus no reason to doubt of His
existence from the fact that I may perhaps find many other
things besides this as to which I am able to understand
neither for what reason nor how God has produced them. For,
in the first place, knowing that my nature is extremely feeble
and limited, and that the nature of God is on the contrary
immense, incomprehensible, and infinite, I have no further
difficulty in recognising that there is an infinitude of
matter in His power, the causes of which transcend my
knowledge; and this reason suffices to convince me that the
species of cause termed final, finds no useful employment in
physical [or natural] things; for it does not appear to me
that I can without temerity seek to investigate the
[inscrutable] ends of God.
It further occurs to me that we should not consider one
single creature separately, when we inquire as to whether the
works of God are perfect, but should regard all his creations
together. For the same thing which might possibly seem very
imperfect with some semblance of reason if regarded by itself,
is found to be very perfect if regarded as part of the whole
universe; and although, since I resolved to doubt all things,
I as yet have only known certainly my own existence and that
of God, nevertheless since I have recognised the infinite
power of God, I cannot deny that He may have produced many
other things, or at least that He has the power of producing
them, so that I may obtain a place as a part of a great
universe.
Whereupon, regarding myself more closely, and considering
what are my errors (for they alone testify to there being any
imperfection in me), I answer that they depend on a
combination of two causes, to wit, on the faculty of knowledge
that rests in me, and on the power of choice or of free
will¥that is to say, of the understanding and at the same time
of the will. For by the understanding alone I [neither assert
nor deny anything, but] apprehend2 the ideas of things as to
which I can form a judgment. But no error is properly
speaking found in it, provided the word error is taken in its
proper signification; and though there is possibly an
infinitude of things in the world of which I have no idea in
my understanding, we cannot for all that say that it is
deprived of these ideas [as we might say of something which is
required by its nature], but simply it does not possess these;
because in truth there is no reason to prove that God should
have given me a greater faculty of knowledge than He has given
me; and however skillful a workman I represent Him to be, I
should not for all that consider that He was bound to have
placed in each of His works all the perfections which He may
have been able to place in some. I likewise cannot complain
that God has not given me a free choice or a will which is
sufficient, ample and perfect, since as a matter of fact I am
conscious of a will so extended as to be subject to no limits.
And what seems to me very remarkable in this regard is that of
all the qualities which I possess there is no one so perfect
and so comprehensive that I do not very clearly recognise that
it might be yet greater and more perfect. For, to take an
example, if I consider the faculty of comprehension which I
possess, I find that it is of very small extent and extremely
limited, and at the same time I find the idea of another
faculty much more ample and even infinite, and seeing that I
can form the idea of it, I recognise from this very fact that
it pertains to the nature of God. If in the same way I
examine the memory, the imagination, or some other faculty, I
do not find any which is not small and circumscribed, while in
God it is immense [or infinite]. It is free-will alone or
liberty of choice which I find to be so great in me that I can
conceive no other idea to be more great; it is indeed the case
that it is for the most part this will that causes me to know
that in some manner I bear the image and similitude of God.
For although the power of will is incomparably greater in God
than in me, both by reason of the knowledge and the power
which, conjoined with it, render it stronger and more
efficacious, and by reason of its object, inasmuch as in God
it extends to a great many things; it nevertheless does not
seem to me greater if I consider it formally and precisely in
itself: for the faculty of will consists alone in our having
the power of choosing to do a thing or choosing not to do it
(that is, to affirm or deny, to pursue or to shun it), or
rather it consists alone in the fact that in order to affirm
or deny, pursue or shun those things placed before us by the
understanding, we act so that we are unconscious that any
outside force constrains us in doing so. For in order that I
should be free it is not necessary that I should be
indifferent as to the choice of one or the other of two
contraries; but contrariwise the more I lean to the
one¥whether I recognise clearly that the reasons of the good
and true are to be found in it, or whether God so disposes my
inward thought¥the more freely do I choose and embrace it.
And undoubtedly both divine grace and natural knowledge, far
from diminishing my liberty, rather increase it and strengthen
it. Hence this indifference which I feel, when I am not
swayed to one side rather than to the other by lack of reason,
is the lowest grade of liberty, and rather evinces a lack or
negation in knowledge than a perfection of will: for if I
always recognised clearly what was true and good, I should
never have trouble in deliberating as to what judgment or
choice I should make, and then I should be entirely free
without ever being indifferent.
From all this I recognise that the power of will which I
have received from God is not of itself the source of my
errors¥for it is very ample and very perfect of its kind¥any
more than is the power of understanding; for since I
understand nothing but by the power which God has given me for
understanding, there is no doubt that all that I understand, I
understand as I ought, and it is not possible that I err in
this. Whence then come my errors? They come from the sole
fact that since the will is much wider in its range and
compass than the understanding, I do not restrain it within
the same bounds, but extend it also to things which I do not
understand: and as the will is of itself indifferent to
these, it easily falls into error and sin, and chooses the
evil for the good, or the false for the true.
For example, when I lately examined whether anything
existed in the world, and found that from the very fact that I
considered this question it followed very clearly that I
myself existed, I could not prevent myself from believing that
a thing I so clearly conceived was true: not that I found
myself compelled to do so by some external cause, but simply
because from great clearness in my mind there followed a great
inclination of my will; and I believed this with so much the
greater freedom or spontaneity as I possessed the less
indifference towards it. Now, on the contrary, I not only
know that I exist, inasmuch as I am a thinking thing, but a
certain representation of corporeal nature is also presented
to my mind; and it comes to pass that I doubt whether this
thinking nature which is in me, or rather by which I am what I
am, differs from this corporeal nature, or whether both are
not simply the same thing; and I here suppose that I do not
yet know any reason to persuade me to adopt the one belief
rather than the other. From this it follows that I am
entirely indifferent as to which of the two I affirm or deny,
or even whether I abstain from forming any judgment in the
matter.
And this indifference does not only extend to matters as
to which the understanding has no knowledge, but also in
general to all those which are not apprehended with perfect
clearness at the moment when the will is deliberating upon
them: for, however probable are the conjectures which render
me disposed to form a judgment respecting anything, the simple
knowledge that I have that those are conjectures alone and not
certain and indubitable reasons, suffices to occasion me to
judge the contrary. Of this I have had great experience of
late when I set aside as false all that I had formerly held to
be absolutely true, for the sole reason that I remarked that
it might in some measure be doubted.
But if I abstain from giving my judgment on any thing
when I do not perceive it with sufficient clearness and
distinctness, it is plain that I act rightly and am not
deceived. But if I determine to deny or affirm, I no longer
make use as I should of my free will, and if I affirm what is
not true, it is evident that I deceive myself; even though I
judge according to truth, this comes about only by chance, and
I do not escape the blame of misusing my freedom; for the
light of nature teaches us that the knowledge of the
understanding should always precede the determination of the
will. And it is in the misuse of the free will that the
privation which constitutes the characteristic nature of error
is met with. Privation, I say, is found in the act, in so far
as it proceeds from me, but it is not found in the faculty
which I have received from God, nor even in the act in so far
as it depends on Him.
For I have certainly no cause to complain that God has
not given me an intelligence which is more powerful, or a
natural light which is stronger than that which I have
received from Him, since it is proper to the finite
understanding not to comprehend a multitude of things, and it
is proper to a created understanding to be finite; on the
contrary, I have every reason to render thanks to God who owes
me nothing and who has given me all the perfections I possess,
and I should be far from charging Him with injustice, and with
having deprived me of, or wrongfully withheld from me, these
perfections which He has not bestowed upon me.
I have further no reason to complain that He has given me
a will more ample than my understanding, for since the will
consists only of one single element, and is so to speak
indivisible, it appears that its nature is such that nothing
can be abstracted from it [without destroying it]; and
certainly the more comprehensive it is found to be, the more
reason I have to render gratitude to the giver.
And, finally, I must also not complain that God concurs
with me in forming the acts of the will, that is the judgment
in which I go astray, because these acts are entirely true and
good, inasmuch as they depend on God; and in a certain sense
more perfection accrues to my nature from the fact that I can
form them, than if I could not do so. As to the privation in
which alone the formal reason of error or sin consists, it has
no need of any concurrence from God, since it is not a thing
[or an existence], and since it is not related to God as to a
cause, but should be termed merely a negation [according to
the significance given to these words in the Schools]. For in
fact it is not an imperfection in God that He has given me the
liberty to give or withhold my assent from certain things as
to which He has not placed a clear and distinct knowledge in
my understanding; but it is without doubt an imperfection in
me not to make a good use of my freedom, and to give my
judgment readily on matters which I only understand obscurely.
I nevertheless perceive that God could easily have created me
so that I never should err, although I still remained free,
and endowed with a limited knowledge, viz. by giving to my
understanding a clear and distinct intelligence of all things
as to which I should ever have to deliberate; or simply by His
engraving deeply in my memory the resolution never to form a
judgment on anything without having a clear and distinct
understanding of it, so that I could never forget it. And it
is easy for me to understand that, in so far as I consider
myself alone, and as if there were only myself in the world, I
should have been much more perfect than I am, if God had
created me so that I could never err. Nevertheless I cannot
deny that in some sense it is a greater perfection in the
whole universe that certain parts should not be exempt from
error as others are than that all parts should be exactly
similar. And I have no right to complain if God, having
placed me in the world, has not called upon me to play a part
that excels all others in distinction and perfection.
And further I have reason to be glad on the ground that
if He has not given me the power of never going astray by the
first means pointed out above, which depends on a clear and
evident knowledge of all the things regarding which I can
deliberate, He has at least left within my power the other
means, which is firmly to adhere to the resolution never to
give judgment on matters whose truth is not clearly known to
me; for although I notice a certain weakness in my nature in
that I cannot continually concentrate my mind on one single
thought, I can yet, by attentive and frequently repeated
meditation, impress it so forcibly on my memory that I shall
never fail to recollect it whenever I have need of it, and
thus acquire the habit of never going astray.
And inasmuch as it is in this that the greatest and
principal perfection of man consists, it seems to me that I
have not gained little by this day's Meditation, since I have
discovered the source of falsity and error. And certainly
there can be no other source than that which I have explained;
for as often as I so restrain my will within the limits of my
knowledge that it forms no judgment except on matters which
are clearly and distinctly represented to it by the
understanding, I can never be deceived; for every clear and
distinct conception3 is without doubt something, and hence
cannot derive its origin from what is nought, but must of
necessity have God as its author¥God, I say, who being
supremely perfect, cannot be the cause of any error; and
consequently we must conclude that such a conception [or such
a judgment] is true. Nor have I only learned to-day what I
should avoid in order that I may not err, but also how I
should act in order to arrive at a knowledge of the truth; for
without doubt I shall arrive at this end if I devote my
attention sufficiently to those things which I perfectly
understand; and if I separate from these that which I only
understand confusedly and with obscurity. To these I shall
henceforth diligently give heed.
FOOTNOTES
1. Not in the French version.
2. Percipio.
3. Perceptio.
Of theTrue and the False.
I have been well accustomed these past days to detach my
mind from my senses, and I have accurately observed that there
are very few things that one knows with certainty respecting
corporeal objects, that there are many more which are known to
us respecting the human mind, and yet more still regarding God
Himself; so that I shall now without any difficulty abstract
my thoughts from the consideration of [sensible or] imaginable
objects, and carry them to those which, being withdrawn from
all contact with matter, are purely intelligible. And
certainly the idea which I possess of the human mind inasmuch
as it is a thinking thing, and not extended in length, width
and depth, nor participating in anything pertaining to body,
is incomparably more distinct than is the idea of any
corporeal thing. And when I consider that I doubt, that is to
say, that I am an incomplete and dependent being, the idea of
a being that is complete and independent, that is of God,
presents itself to my mind with so much distinctness and
clearness¥and from the fact alone that this idea is found in
me, or that I who possess this idea exist, I conclude so
certainly that God exists, and that my existence depends
entirely on Him in every moment of my life¥that I do not think
that the human mind is capable of knowing anything with more
evidence and certitude. And it seems to me that I now have
before me a road which will lead us from the contemplation of
the true God (in whom all the treasures of science and wisdom
are contained) to the knowledge of the other objects of the
universe.
For, first of all, I recognise it to be impossible that
He should ever deceive me; for in all fraud and deception some
imperfection is to be found, and although it may appear that
the power of deception is a mark of subtilty or power, yet the
desire to deceive without doubt testifies to malice or
feebleness, and accordingly cannot be found in God.
In the next place I experienced in myself a certain
capacity for judging which I have doubtless received from God,
like all the other things that I possess; and as He could not
desire to deceive me, it is clear that He has not given me a
faculty that will lead me to err if I use it aright.
And no doubt respecting this matter could remain, if it
were not that the consequence would seem to follow that I can
thus never be deceived; for if I hold all that I possess from
God, and if He has not placed in me the capacity for error, it
seems as though I could never fall into error. And it is true
that when I think only of God [and direct my mind wholly to
Him],1 I discover [in myself] no cause of error, or falsity;
yet directly afterwards, when recurring to myself, experience
shows me that I am nevertheless subject to an infinitude of
errors, as to which, when we come to investigate them more
closely, I notice that not only is there a real and positive
idea of God or of a Being of supreme perfection present to my
mind, but also, so to speak, a certain negative idea of
nothing, that is, of that which is infinitely removed from any
kind of perfection; and that I am in a sense something
intermediate between God and nought, i.e. placed in such a
manner between the supreme Being and non-being, that there is
in truth nothing in me that can lead to error in so far as a
sovereign Being has formed me; but that, as I in some degree
participate likewise in nought or in non-being, i.e. in so far
as I am not myself the supreme Being, and as I find myself
subject to an infinitude of imperfections, I ought not to be
astonished if I should fall into error. Thus do I recognise
that error, in so far as it is such, is not a real thing
depending on God, but simply a defect; and therefore, in order
to fall into it, that I have no need to possess a special
faculty given me by God for this very purpose, but that I fall
into error from the fact that the power given me by God for
the purpose of distinguishing truth from error is not
infinite.
Nevertheless this does not quite satisfy me; for error is
not a pure negation [i.e. is not the dimple defect or want of
some perfection which ought not to be mine], but it is a lack
of some knowledge which it seems that I ought to possess. And
on considering the nature of God it does not appear to me
possible that He should have given me a faculty which is not
perfect of its kind, that is, which is wanting in some
perfection due to it. For if it is true that the more skilful
the artizan, the more perfect is the work of his hands, what
can have been produced by this supreme Creator of all things
that is not in all its parts perfect? And certainly there is
no doubt that God could have created me so that I could never
have been subject to error; it is also certain that He ever
wills what is best; is it then better that I should be subject
to err than that I should not?
In considering this more attentively, it occurs to me in
the first place that I should not be astonished if my
intelligence is not capable of comprehending why God acts as
He does; and that there is thus no reason to doubt of His
existence from the fact that I may perhaps find many other
things besides this as to which I am able to understand
neither for what reason nor how God has produced them. For,
in the first place, knowing that my nature is extremely feeble
and limited, and that the nature of God is on the contrary
immense, incomprehensible, and infinite, I have no further
difficulty in recognising that there is an infinitude of
matter in His power, the causes of which transcend my
knowledge; and this reason suffices to convince me that the
species of cause termed final, finds no useful employment in
physical [or natural] things; for it does not appear to me
that I can without temerity seek to investigate the
[inscrutable] ends of God.
It further occurs to me that we should not consider one
single creature separately, when we inquire as to whether the
works of God are perfect, but should regard all his creations
together. For the same thing which might possibly seem very
imperfect with some semblance of reason if regarded by itself,
is found to be very perfect if regarded as part of the whole
universe; and although, since I resolved to doubt all things,
I as yet have only known certainly my own existence and that
of God, nevertheless since I have recognised the infinite
power of God, I cannot deny that He may have produced many
other things, or at least that He has the power of producing
them, so that I may obtain a place as a part of a great
universe.
Whereupon, regarding myself more closely, and considering
what are my errors (for they alone testify to there being any
imperfection in me), I answer that they depend on a
combination of two causes, to wit, on the faculty of knowledge
that rests in me, and on the power of choice or of free
will¥that is to say, of the understanding and at the same time
of the will. For by the understanding alone I [neither assert
nor deny anything, but] apprehend2 the ideas of things as to
which I can form a judgment. But no error is properly
speaking found in it, provided the word error is taken in its
proper signification; and though there is possibly an
infinitude of things in the world of which I have no idea in
my understanding, we cannot for all that say that it is
deprived of these ideas [as we might say of something which is
required by its nature], but simply it does not possess these;
because in truth there is no reason to prove that God should
have given me a greater faculty of knowledge than He has given
me; and however skillful a workman I represent Him to be, I
should not for all that consider that He was bound to have
placed in each of His works all the perfections which He may
have been able to place in some. I likewise cannot complain
that God has not given me a free choice or a will which is
sufficient, ample and perfect, since as a matter of fact I am
conscious of a will so extended as to be subject to no limits.
And what seems to me very remarkable in this regard is that of
all the qualities which I possess there is no one so perfect
and so comprehensive that I do not very clearly recognise that
it might be yet greater and more perfect. For, to take an
example, if I consider the faculty of comprehension which I
possess, I find that it is of very small extent and extremely
limited, and at the same time I find the idea of another
faculty much more ample and even infinite, and seeing that I
can form the idea of it, I recognise from this very fact that
it pertains to the nature of God. If in the same way I
examine the memory, the imagination, or some other faculty, I
do not find any which is not small and circumscribed, while in
God it is immense [or infinite]. It is free-will alone or
liberty of choice which I find to be so great in me that I can
conceive no other idea to be more great; it is indeed the case
that it is for the most part this will that causes me to know
that in some manner I bear the image and similitude of God.
For although the power of will is incomparably greater in God
than in me, both by reason of the knowledge and the power
which, conjoined with it, render it stronger and more
efficacious, and by reason of its object, inasmuch as in God
it extends to a great many things; it nevertheless does not
seem to me greater if I consider it formally and precisely in
itself: for the faculty of will consists alone in our having
the power of choosing to do a thing or choosing not to do it
(that is, to affirm or deny, to pursue or to shun it), or
rather it consists alone in the fact that in order to affirm
or deny, pursue or shun those things placed before us by the
understanding, we act so that we are unconscious that any
outside force constrains us in doing so. For in order that I
should be free it is not necessary that I should be
indifferent as to the choice of one or the other of two
contraries; but contrariwise the more I lean to the
one¥whether I recognise clearly that the reasons of the good
and true are to be found in it, or whether God so disposes my
inward thought¥the more freely do I choose and embrace it.
And undoubtedly both divine grace and natural knowledge, far
from diminishing my liberty, rather increase it and strengthen
it. Hence this indifference which I feel, when I am not
swayed to one side rather than to the other by lack of reason,
is the lowest grade of liberty, and rather evinces a lack or
negation in knowledge than a perfection of will: for if I
always recognised clearly what was true and good, I should
never have trouble in deliberating as to what judgment or
choice I should make, and then I should be entirely free
without ever being indifferent.
From all this I recognise that the power of will which I
have received from God is not of itself the source of my
errors¥for it is very ample and very perfect of its kind¥any
more than is the power of understanding; for since I
understand nothing but by the power which God has given me for
understanding, there is no doubt that all that I understand, I
understand as I ought, and it is not possible that I err in
this. Whence then come my errors? They come from the sole
fact that since the will is much wider in its range and
compass than the understanding, I do not restrain it within
the same bounds, but extend it also to things which I do not
understand: and as the will is of itself indifferent to
these, it easily falls into error and sin, and chooses the
evil for the good, or the false for the true.
For example, when I lately examined whether anything
existed in the world, and found that from the very fact that I
considered this question it followed very clearly that I
myself existed, I could not prevent myself from believing that
a thing I so clearly conceived was true: not that I found
myself compelled to do so by some external cause, but simply
because from great clearness in my mind there followed a great
inclination of my will; and I believed this with so much the
greater freedom or spontaneity as I possessed the less
indifference towards it. Now, on the contrary, I not only
know that I exist, inasmuch as I am a thinking thing, but a
certain representation of corporeal nature is also presented
to my mind; and it comes to pass that I doubt whether this
thinking nature which is in me, or rather by which I am what I
am, differs from this corporeal nature, or whether both are
not simply the same thing; and I here suppose that I do not
yet know any reason to persuade me to adopt the one belief
rather than the other. From this it follows that I am
entirely indifferent as to which of the two I affirm or deny,
or even whether I abstain from forming any judgment in the
matter.
And this indifference does not only extend to matters as
to which the understanding has no knowledge, but also in
general to all those which are not apprehended with perfect
clearness at the moment when the will is deliberating upon
them: for, however probable are the conjectures which render
me disposed to form a judgment respecting anything, the simple
knowledge that I have that those are conjectures alone and not
certain and indubitable reasons, suffices to occasion me to
judge the contrary. Of this I have had great experience of
late when I set aside as false all that I had formerly held to
be absolutely true, for the sole reason that I remarked that
it might in some measure be doubted.
But if I abstain from giving my judgment on any thing
when I do not perceive it with sufficient clearness and
distinctness, it is plain that I act rightly and am not
deceived. But if I determine to deny or affirm, I no longer
make use as I should of my free will, and if I affirm what is
not true, it is evident that I deceive myself; even though I
judge according to truth, this comes about only by chance, and
I do not escape the blame of misusing my freedom; for the
light of nature teaches us that the knowledge of the
understanding should always precede the determination of the
will. And it is in the misuse of the free will that the
privation which constitutes the characteristic nature of error
is met with. Privation, I say, is found in the act, in so far
as it proceeds from me, but it is not found in the faculty
which I have received from God, nor even in the act in so far
as it depends on Him.
For I have certainly no cause to complain that God has
not given me an intelligence which is more powerful, or a
natural light which is stronger than that which I have
received from Him, since it is proper to the finite
understanding not to comprehend a multitude of things, and it
is proper to a created understanding to be finite; on the
contrary, I have every reason to render thanks to God who owes
me nothing and who has given me all the perfections I possess,
and I should be far from charging Him with injustice, and with
having deprived me of, or wrongfully withheld from me, these
perfections which He has not bestowed upon me.
I have further no reason to complain that He has given me
a will more ample than my understanding, for since the will
consists only of one single element, and is so to speak
indivisible, it appears that its nature is such that nothing
can be abstracted from it [without destroying it]; and
certainly the more comprehensive it is found to be, the more
reason I have to render gratitude to the giver.
And, finally, I must also not complain that God concurs
with me in forming the acts of the will, that is the judgment
in which I go astray, because these acts are entirely true and
good, inasmuch as they depend on God; and in a certain sense
more perfection accrues to my nature from the fact that I can
form them, than if I could not do so. As to the privation in
which alone the formal reason of error or sin consists, it has
no need of any concurrence from God, since it is not a thing
[or an existence], and since it is not related to God as to a
cause, but should be termed merely a negation [according to
the significance given to these words in the Schools]. For in
fact it is not an imperfection in God that He has given me the
liberty to give or withhold my assent from certain things as
to which He has not placed a clear and distinct knowledge in
my understanding; but it is without doubt an imperfection in
me not to make a good use of my freedom, and to give my
judgment readily on matters which I only understand obscurely.
I nevertheless perceive that God could easily have created me
so that I never should err, although I still remained free,
and endowed with a limited knowledge, viz. by giving to my
understanding a clear and distinct intelligence of all things
as to which I should ever have to deliberate; or simply by His
engraving deeply in my memory the resolution never to form a
judgment on anything without having a clear and distinct
understanding of it, so that I could never forget it. And it
is easy for me to understand that, in so far as I consider
myself alone, and as if there were only myself in the world, I
should have been much more perfect than I am, if God had
created me so that I could never err. Nevertheless I cannot
deny that in some sense it is a greater perfection in the
whole universe that certain parts should not be exempt from
error as others are than that all parts should be exactly
similar. And I have no right to complain if God, having
placed me in the world, has not called upon me to play a part
that excels all others in distinction and perfection.
And further I have reason to be glad on the ground that
if He has not given me the power of never going astray by the
first means pointed out above, which depends on a clear and
evident knowledge of all the things regarding which I can
deliberate, He has at least left within my power the other
means, which is firmly to adhere to the resolution never to
give judgment on matters whose truth is not clearly known to
me; for although I notice a certain weakness in my nature in
that I cannot continually concentrate my mind on one single
thought, I can yet, by attentive and frequently repeated
meditation, impress it so forcibly on my memory that I shall
never fail to recollect it whenever I have need of it, and
thus acquire the habit of never going astray.
And inasmuch as it is in this that the greatest and
principal perfection of man consists, it seems to me that I
have not gained little by this day's Meditation, since I have
discovered the source of falsity and error. And certainly
there can be no other source than that which I have explained;
for as often as I so restrain my will within the limits of my
knowledge that it forms no judgment except on matters which
are clearly and distinctly represented to it by the
understanding, I can never be deceived; for every clear and
distinct conception3 is without doubt something, and hence
cannot derive its origin from what is nought, but must of
necessity have God as its author¥God, I say, who being
supremely perfect, cannot be the cause of any error; and
consequently we must conclude that such a conception [or such
a judgment] is true. Nor have I only learned to-day what I
should avoid in order that I may not err, but also how I
should act in order to arrive at a knowledge of the truth; for
without doubt I shall arrive at this end if I devote my
attention sufficiently to those things which I perfectly
understand; and if I separate from these that which I only
understand confusedly and with obscurity. To these I shall
henceforth diligently give heed.
FOOTNOTES
1. Not in the French version.
2. Percipio.
3. Perceptio.