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THE ETHICS

^ ■ OF

BENEDICT DE SPINOZA

DEMONSTRATED AFTER THE METHODS OF GEOMETERS, AND DIVIDED INTO

FIVE PARTS

IN WHICH ARE TREATED SEPARATELY

I. OF GOD. II. OF THE SOUL

III. OF THE AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS

IV. OF MAN’S SLAVERY, OR THE FORCE OF THE PASSIONS

V. OF MAN’S FREEDOM, OR THE POWER OF THE UNDERSTANDING

FROM THE LATIN

WITH AN INTRODUCTORY SKETCH OF SPINOZA’S LIFE AND WRITINGS

One God and Father of all. who is above all, and through all, and in ' you all.”— Paul, Epist. Ephes., iv, 6

“ For in him we live, and move, and have our being.” — ACTS, xvii, 28

D. VAN NOSTRAND, New York G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS

NEW YORK & LONDON

' 1888

BOSTON COLLEGE LIBRARY CHESTNUT HILU MASS..

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COPYRIGHT BY

D. VAN NOSTRAND

1876

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TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.

High up on tlie roll of the world’ s great Thinkers stands the name of Benedict de Siiinoza. Xot many American readers, however, have had an oppor- tunity to become acquainted with the writings of this celebrated philosoiiher. Perhaps the class of minds that would take any trouble to seek for and carefully study and appreciate them may not be a large one, although, with the iirogress of sci- ence and general knowledge, it is doubtless in- creasing.

In presenting to the few who may desire to read in their own language the following version of Spinoza’s greatest Avork, the Ethics, I Imre hesitated about accompanying it Avith any introductory remarks, unless it Avere by Avay of apology for my under- taking ; but as this is the first time that a transla- tion of any of his AA^orks has been published iii the United States it may not be improper, nor altogether useless, to follow a general practice and refer brietiy to some of the incidents of his life, gleaned from the Avritings of his biographers'^ and his OAvn corre-

* La Vie de B. de Spinoza, tiree des ecrits de ce fameux pbilosophe, et du temoignage de plusieurs personnes dignes de foi, qui Font connu particulierement. Par Jean Golems, Ministre de I’Eglise Lutlierienne de la Haye. A la Haye. Chez T. Johnson, Marchand Libraire, dans le Pooten. 1706.

Also, a life of Spinoza by Dr, Lucas, a physician at the Hague, a

IV

TKANSLATOirS PKEFACE.

sponclence, with such bibliographic mention of his several ivorks as may serve to assist the reader in forming an estimate of his character, and make known the subjects which occupied his thoughts.

That remarkable race which in its earlier history had produced Lawgivers, Historians, Proj^hets, Poets, and Proverbialists whose writings have, probably, been as widely read as any that ever came from the j)ens of men, — the race that gave to the world one whom unnumbered millions have adored and wor- shipped,— a race which for more than fifteen cen- turies had been dispersed throughout Europe and the world, often despised, persecuted, despoiled, and driven hither and thither, even by those whose religion acknowledged them to be the ‘‘ chosen peo- ple” of God, at length gave birth to a philoso]3her whose writings have had a deep and wide-spread in- fluence in shaping the philosophic and higher reli- gious thought of the x)resent age, and which seem destined to retain a x)ermanent place in the literature of the w^orld.

Under the reign of Philip III. many Jews left Sixain and Portugal to seek in other countries free- dom from the persecutions to .which they were sub- jected by the religious bigotry and intolerance of the united power of Church and State, which attempted by rigorous measures to compel them to ' relinquish their ancient faith and come within the fold of

contemporary and friend of Spinoza, inserted by Saisset in liis (Euvres de Spinoza, tome II., as an Appendix, following the Life by Colerus.

LIFE AIS^D WEITINGS OF SPINOZA.

V

Roman Catholic Christianity. It is supposed that among those Avho sought refuge in Holland were the parents of Spinoza, who settled at Amsterdam, and there Baruch de Siiinoza was born on the 24th IS'o- V ember, 1632.

Besides being thoroughly educated by a learned Rabbin in the Biblical and Talmudic writings and other literature of the Jews, he became also an ac- complished Latin and Greek scholar, well versed in the classics and ancient systems of philosophy. His acquirements also embraced the Mathematics, Al- gebra, Physics, Chemistry, Optics, and indeed seem to have extended to most of the deiDartments of science and philosophy which formed the subjects of the study and thought . of the most advanced minds of his own times. Even at an early age he was distinguished for his great capacities, and having been strongly impressed by a maxim of Descartes — “that nothing ought to be received as truth until it had been proved by good and solid reasons,” he seems to have acted upon it, and was led to investigate and understand for himself the grounds upon which systems of religion and philo- sophy were based. As a consequence, the teachings of the Rabbins and the Schoolmen were only ac- cepted by him in so far as they seemed to be con- sistent with truth and capable of demonstration. With such an intellectual training his power of thought was made active and strengthened, and a high moral and truly religious nature developed,

VI

teanslatok’s peeface.

which lifted him far above the ordinary level of man- kind and fitted him not only to become a messenger and teacher of truth, but inspired him with a serene courage to bear the cross which has so often awaited those who proclaimed it.

Unable to accept the teachings of the Eabbins, and unwilling to dissemble, he ceased to attend the syna- gogue. They had taken great pains to instruct him, and being looked upon as of much promise they thought that his falling away from their faith and doctrines might have a pernicious influence upon others, and no etforts were spared to bring him back and I’etain him within the fold. To this end, offers of favor and advancement and a yearly pension of 1,000 florins are said to have been made to him, but with- out avail ; and in 1656, at the age of twenty-four, he was formally excommunicated and cast out from the Jewish communion, — a proceeding not uncommon among religious societies of other faiths, but regarded in those and earlier times as an act of far more fearful import and accompanied by more solemn ceremonies than it is to-day. All Jews Avere forbidden to speak or write to him, or to do him any service, or abide un- der the same roof AAuth him, or approach within four cubits’ length of him, or to read anything written or dictated by him. To this excommunication Spinoza wrote a reply in the Spanish language,"^ but it has either been lost or remains inedited. An attempt

* Saisset, in liis Notice BihliograpTiique, gives as its title : '■‘Apologia para justijicar se de su abdication dc la sinagoga.'^

LIFE AND WRITINGS OF SPINOZA, vii

to take his life was made soon after by some over- zealous and fanatical Jew, but Spinoza, fortunately turned aside the knife of the assassin, which only pierced his clothipg. Subsequently, the chiefs of tlie synagogue applied to the civil authorities to have him expelled from the city as an impious person, tlius affording another instance, if it were needed, that they who have themselves suffered persecution for opinion’s sake are not thereby made tolerant of the opinions of others. The magistrates, probably not linding any legal authority or precedent for such action, referred the matter to the ministers of the churches, who, according to Lucas, advised compli- ance with the application, whereupon the magistrates condemned the accused to an exile of a few months. Whether this were so or not, it is certain that Spinoza left Amsterdam not long after his excommunication and took lodgings with a Christian family near Auwerkerke, a few miles from the city. Here, with- out other means of subsistence than that provided by his daily labor, he gained it by grinding and polish- ing lenses for telescopes and other optical instru- ments, an art which if not previously acquired he learned at that time, and became so skilful in it that his glasses were in high repute, so that persons came from distant places to buy thern at Amsterdam, where his friends sold them for him.

The first writer of the gospel story of the tempta- tion in the wilderness was certainly possessed of a lively imagination, but divesting the narrative of

viii TRANSLATOirS TREFACE.

Avliatever is merely fabulous, it truly symbolizes the struggle of a sincere and virtuous soul to be faithful to its highest intellectual conceptions, and illustrates for all time the mental conflict which takes place when it is brought to confront long established be- liefs and to proclaim a new revelation of truth. The proffered ease, and often the riches, the power, and the glory of the world are to be refused and x:)ut aside, and in their place persecution, contumely, and a crown of thorns accepted. So with our phil- osopher, when the day of trial came and he was called upon to consider and choose between the allurements of riches, and glory, and the pleasures of the world, which conformity Avith the prevailing ox^inions and beliefs might be supposed to offer him, ou the one hand, if he Avould but repress the convic- tions of his understanding, i.e. if he Avould cease to worship God “in sj)irit and in truth,” — he x^ref erred to meet excommunication from the synagogue, to be cut off from x^arents, family, and race, — to live in X'>overty among strangers and encounter obloquy and rex:)roach, rather than to deny the truth which his understanding revealed to him, and Avhich brought him to the knowledge and love of God. XorAvas the temptation a light one, nor x^nt aside without a full and deliberate consideration of all that it in- volved. For if we apxdy to this of his life

what he says in the oxDening of his Treatise on the Cultivation of the Understanding^ we may there learn that it was only after liaAdng questioned his

LIFE A^D WRITINGS OF SPIN^OZA.

IX

experience as to the ordinary events of common life, and of those things which men so universally desire and strive for as the supreme good, and having con- cluded them to be vain and futile, that he at last came to the resolution to seek if there existed a real goocl^ which, all mere worldly desires being put aside, could, when found and possessed, alone fill and satisfy the whole soul and give it supreme and eternal happiness. His words are:* say that / have at last talcen this resolidion, for it appeared to me at first view to be unwise to give ux) things that were near at hand and certain, in order to XDursue that which was uncertain. For I had before my eyes the advantages one acquires through wealth and reputation, and it was necessary to abstain from these if I would seriously occupy myself with seek- ing something else.” . . “For the objects which

most frequently present themselves in life, and in which men, if we may judge by their actions, jilace supreme hapx)iness, may be reduced to three : wealth, reputation, and pleasure.” . . “It was

therefore not without reason that I said to myself :

* Dico, me tandem constituisse : primo enim intuitu inconsultum videbatur, propter rem tunc incertam certa amittere velle. Yidebam nimirum commoda, quse ex honore ac divitiis acquiruntur, et quod ab iis quserendis cogebar abstinere, si seriam rei alii novae operam dare vellem.” . . . “Nam quae plerumque in vita occurrunt, et apud

homines, ut ex eorum operibus colligere licet, tanquam summum bonum aestimantur, ad haec tria rediguntur : divitias scilicet, Tionorem atque libidinem. . . . Yerum non absque ratione usus sum his

verbis : ?nodo possim serio deliberare. Nam quamvis haec mente adeo dare perciperem, non poteram tamen ideo omnem avaritiara, libidi- nem, atque gloriam deponere. — Tractatus De Intellectus Emendatione.

X

TEAXSLATOK S PEEFACE.

Consider this matter seriously ; for altliongli I had a clear perception of all that I have said (of tiie vanity and futility of these things), still I could not wholly banish from my soul the love of wealth, of pleasure, and of glory.”

He appears to have spent about four years at Au- werkerke, supporting himself by his handicraft, and at the same time diligently pursuing his philosophi- cal studies and meditations, occasionally making short visits to friends at Amsterdam. In 1660 lie re- moved to Rhynsburg near Leyden, and while resid- ing at this place he published at Amsterdam in 1663 his first work,* the Principles of the Philosophy of Descartes, demonstrated geometrically ; — to which was appended ^Metaphysical Meditations. In af- fixing his name to this work he changed it from Baruch to Benedict, to indicate his separation from Judaism. This publication soon gave him a reputa- tion which extended even beyond the boundaries of his own country.

In 1664 he removed to Yoorburg, about a league from the Hague, where he remained about five years ; after which we find him at the Hague, at which place he continued to reside until his death.

In 1670 he published his celebrated Trecdise on

*Renati Des Cartes Principiorum Philosophiae, more geometrico demonstrata. Per Benedictum de Spinoza. Amstelodamensem. Ac- cessemnt ejusdem Cogitata Metaphysica, in quibus difficiliores quae tarn in parte metaphysices generali quam special! occurmnt quaestiones breviter explicantur. Amstelodami, apud Jobannem Rieuwertz. 1663.

LIFE WRITINGS OF SPIXOZA.

XI

Theology and Politics,- a work iu wMcli lie ex- amined and criticised the HebreAv Scrijitiires, and which created great excitement, especially^ amomr the theologians, some .of whom, although perhaps far too iinlearned to answer it, were yet too bigoted to allow it to pass without the most unmeasured and violent denunciations of its unknown author. Theoretically and ostensibly, a certain degree of re- ligious freedom existed in Holland : but a liberal and wise political constitution could not in those times (nor can it now) wholly eradicate the feeling of hatred and dislike engendered in the minds of men who had been taught that them own eternal salvation, if not that of all mankind, depended upon certain beliefs, — to doubt or deny which was something so execrable as to be at least worthy of severe reprobation, if not of social ostracism.

To expose one's self unnecessarily to this naturally earnest, sincere, and zealous, but misguided feeling and prejudice, was not desirable. Probably for this reason the work appeared without the name of its author, and purported to be i^rinted at Hamburg, whereas it was printed at Amsterdam. At the in- stance of theologians the book was interdicted, but,

* Tractatus Theologico-Politicus. Continens dissertationes aliquot, quibus ostenditur libertatem philosophandi non tantum salva pietate et reipublicae pace posse concedi, sed eandem nisi cum pace reipublicte ipsaque pietate tolli non posse. “Per hoc cognoscimus quod in Deo manemus, et Deus manet in nobis, quod de Spiritu suo dedit nobis. Johann. Epist. I., c. I Y., vers. 13.” Hamb. Apud Henri Kunrath. 1670.

Xll

TRAXSLATOll’s PREFACE.

nevertheless, in 1673 it ^Yas again twice republished at Amsterdam, and once at Leyden, under changed and different titles ; and, yet again, in 1674, without any assigned place of imhlication. In 1678 a French translation of it was also published in Holland, which Saisset speaks of as being very incorrect.

This learned and able Avork has gained for Spinoza the title of ‘‘Father of Biblical Criticism.” His ob- ject in writing it is set forth in a letter to Henri Old- enburg, at London, in 1665, an extract from AAdiich, taken from the Appendix to the published Avorks of Robert Boyle, appears among the correspondence of Spinoza translated by Hr. Willis and recently pub- lished in London, — Avherein Spinoza AAuites : “lam noAv engaged in the composition of my treatise on the Scriptures, moved to undertake the Avork ; 1st, — By the prejudices of theologians, AAdiich I feel satisfied are the grand obstacles to the general study of phi- losophy. These prejudices I therefore expose, and do AALat I can to lessen their influence on the minds of people accessible to reason. 2nd, — By my desire .to disabuse the world of the false estimate formed of me AAdien I am charged Avith atheism. 3rd, — By the Avish I have to assert our title to free philosophical discussion, and to say oi^enly Avhat AA’e think. This I maintain in every possible A\my, for here it is too much interfered AAuth by the authorit}" and abusive- ness of the Amlgar.”

AVe have already referred to the excitement created among theologians by this Avork on its appearance.

LIFE AISD WKITIXGS OF SPIXOZA. xiii

As it was the habit of Spinoza to act with great pru- dence and caution, it may be safely assumed that his friend De Witt, the Grand Pensionary of Holland, and others in authority in the State who knew and conversed with him, had been made acquainted with its contents, and that he felt assured of their favor- able opinion and support before he ventured on its publication ; for he takes occasion to say with great confidence at the end of his preface, and repeats it at the close of the work, — that he has written nothing that he would not most willingly submit to the exa- mination and judgment of the highest authorities of his country ; but he adds : ‘‘ Should aught however that I have said be held to contravene the laws of the State, or to be opposed to the common good, I would have it impugned and rectified ; for I know that I am man and liable to err ; but I have taken great pains not to err, and have been especially solicitous so to express myself as that all I have written should be found in harmony with the laws of my country^ and with piety and good manners.”^

Man may think freely, but it has not always and everywhere been the case that he could utter his- thoughts with equal freedom. There has been a penalty. Socrates paid it by drinking hemlock. Jesus was crucified. A volume would not suffice to recite individual penalties in their various forms. In Sifinoza’ s own century Bruno and Yanini had been

* English Trans. Tr. Theol.-Pol. 1862, p. 30.

XIV

translator's preface.

burned, and Galilei to escax)e torture had been forced by the Church to make a vain and impossible abjuration of the truth that the earth moved around the sun, and not the sun around the earth. Even in free Holland the incidents of Spinoza’s life show how necessary was his motto Caide^'’^ and that a philoso- plier could not utter his thoughts without becoming an object of suspicion, coldness, abuse, and defama- tion on the part of many of his fellow-citizens.

Such of his correspondence between the years 1661 and 1676 as has been preserved, affords some in- sight as to who were his friends and acquaintances. Among these were the Doctors Louis Meyer, Bresser, and Schaller, all physicians of Amsterdam. Meyer wrote the preface to his Principia Philosophic Des Cartes. Dr. Henri Oldenburg, a physician of Bre- men, who sought the acquaintance of Spinoza at Rhynsburg, and was subsequently the Envoy from Lower Saxony to England, where he became one of the founders of the Royal Society of London, one of its secretaries, and published its Philosophical Trans- actions. He corresponded with Spinoza throughout the whole of the period referred to above, and through him communications passed between Robert Boyle and Spinoza. Simon de Yries, a gentleman of fortune, a devoted friend, ardent admirer, and stu- dent of Spinoza’s philosophy. Jarig Jellis, a retired merchant, Peter Balling, and Rieuwertz the printer, — these three were Christians of the sect of Mennonites. Jellis wrote the preface to the Opera Posthuma in

LIFE AXD WPvITIXGS OF SPIXOZA.

XV

Dutch, wliicli was translated into Latin by Meyer. Christian Hnygliens, the celebrated scientist, matlie- matician and astronomer, the discoverer of Saturn's ring. With these and many otlier persons of cul- ture and consideration the excommunicated Jew and philosopher had friendly intercourse. Leibnitz had corresponded with him on a question of optics, sought his acquaintance, visited, and had long con- versations with him. In 1673 the Prince Charles Louis, Elector Palatine, offered Spinoza the chair of Philosophy in the University at Heidelberg, but he declined the honorable offer. He also possessed the friendship of the statesman and patriot John De Witt, Grand Pensionary of Holland, and of others occupying high positions in the civil and military service of the State, and who often visited him in his humble lodgings and took delight in his conversation.

He had now become one of the celebrities of the in- tellectual world of Europe, for his name and fame had extended wherever learning and philosophy were sought and honored. But notwithstanding this, the manner of living and the character of the great phi- losopher remained unchanged, and the high resolve with which in his earlier days he had deliberately put aside whatever desires he may have had for riches, worldly honors, and pleasures, and given himself up wholly to the x)ursuit of that knowledge which alone can truly lead to a wise understanding and love of God, was faithfully adhered to until the last moment of his life.

XVI

teaxslator’s peeface.

From liis biograpliy written by the Eev. Mr. Gole- ms, we learn that when lie first went to live at tlie Hague lie boarded at a lionse on tlie Yeerkay, wliere lie had a single back room np two fiiglits of stairs, in which he worked at his glasses, studied, and slept, and where his meals were often brought to him. But finding this too exjiensive for his slender means, he hired a room on the Paviloengracht, in the house of a painter by the name of Van der Sjiyck, where he furnished himself with ‘Yneat and drink,” livim>- in a most frugal and abstemious manner,^ absorbed in his studies and meditations, and often not going out of the house for several days together. Many offers of pecuniary assistance were made to Spinoza by his friends, who were extremely desirous to re-

* From an old English translation of the Life by Colerus, I ex- tract the following ; “ He would live a whole day upon a milk soup done with butter, which amounted to three pence, and upon a pot of beer of three half-pence. Another day he would eat nothing but gruel done with raisins, and that dish did cost him four pence half- penny. There are but two half-pints of wine at most for one month to be found amongst these reckonings, and though he was often invited to eat with his friends, he chose rather to live upon what he had at home, though it were never so little, than to sit down at a good table at the expense of another man. He was very careful that his expenses should not exceed his income, and he would say sometimes to the people of the house that he was like a serpent with its tail in its mouth, to denote that he had nothing left at the year’s end ; and added that he designed to lay up no more money than would be necessary to bury him decently, and that as he had got nothing from his parents, so his heirs and relations should not expect to get much by his death.” — T/te Life of Benedict de Spinoza. Written hy John Colerus, Minister of the Lutheran Church at the Hague. Done out of French. London : Printed hy D. L. and sold hy Benj. Bragg at the Raven in Pater Noster Row. 1706.

LIFE ATs^D WRITINGS OF SPINOZA.

XYll

lieve him from the necessity of working at his glasses for support ; and on one occasion Simon de Tries came from Amsterdam and put in his hand a present of 2,000 tiorins, bat Sihnoza declined to accept it, npon the plea that he wanted nothing, and if he received so mncli money it might divert him from his studies and occupations. Upon the death of his father he was entitled by law to his share of the estate, but opposition was made by his relatives from whom he had been separated by his excommunica- tion. Having established his right to receive it, he then voluntarily relinquished his share to his sisters, reserving to himself only a bed and its furniture. There is good reason, however, to suppose that during the last tv/o or three years of his life he was, to a great extent at least, relieved from the neces- sity of working at his glasses ; for his friend the Grand Pensionaiy De Witt, who had often obtained from him information on mathematical subjects, and consulted with him on important matters of State, as a testimonial of his regard and as a recompense for his- services, had conferred upon him by an instrument in writing a pension of 200 florins, or about 80 dollars. After the death of De Witt his heirs raised some ob- jections to continuing it, whereupon Spinoza, with great tranquillity, at once surrendered the waiting to them and relinquished the pension. His disinter- ested action seems to have touched them, for they came to him afterwards and most joyfully ten- dered wdiat they had at first refused. In addition

translator’s preface.

xviii

to this, liis loving friend Simon de Vries, a man of wealth, withont wife or children, exj)ecting soon to die, desired to leave all his property to Spinoza, and beins: about to make his will informed him of his intention. But Spinoza would not listen to the pro- posal, and as De Vries had a brother living at Schie- dam he urged that he ought to leave it to him, and so prevailed by his arguments that his advice was followed ; but, nevertheless, in drawing the will he made it a charge upon the estate that his brother should pay to Spinoza a yearly pension of 500 tiorins. After his death his brother was anxious to fulfil the charge, but Spinoza resolutely refused to receive so large a sum, saying that it was more than he had need of, and could only be prevailed upon to accept 300 florins. These two j^ensions, amounting together to about 200 dollars, were no doubt the chief sources of the philosopher’s support during the last two or three years of his life.

In his solitary room in the house at the Hague he lived quietly, with a single exception, amid all the turmoil of domestic civil strife and foreign war ; for during this period (1670-6) the country, besides being disturbed by the ambition of William, Prince of Orange, was engaged in a naval war with Eng- land, and also invaded by the armies of Louis XIV. of France. In 1672, De Witt, owing to the schemes of his rival the Prince of Orange, and the ■defeat of the Dutch fleets by the English, lost the public favor and confidence and was confined in

LIFE AND WRITINGS OF SPINOZA.

XIX

prison at the Hague, from which he and his bro- ther Cornelius were torn by a blind and infuriated mob and massacred in the street. Xot long after this occurrence, the Prince of Conde, who with a French army had taken possession of Utrecht, being desirous of seeing and conversing with the philoso- pher, invited him to make a visit, and sent him a passport. After consulting with friends and some of the high officers of State, Spinoza went to Utrecht. Upon his return a rumor of his visit to the invaders of the country being spread among the people, public suspicion was directed towards him, and it was feared that the house in which lie lodged would be assailed by the populace. His landlord was greatly alarmed, but Spinoza said to him, — ‘‘Fear nothing upon my account, for I can easily justify myself. There are people enough, and even some of the most considerable persons of the State, who knoAv veiy well what put me on that journey. But however, as soon as the mob make the least noise at yonr door, I will go down to them, though they were to treat me as they treated the poor Messieurs He Witt. I am a good republican, and I always aimed at the ’glory and welfare of the State.” Happily, the excitement subsided, and the philosopher was left unmo- lested.

His biographer, the minister Golems, seems to have made minute inquiries concerning him from the families in whose houses he had lived at the

XX

tuaxslatok’ s pkeface.

Hague, as well as from many others wlio had been })ersonally acquainted w ith him ; and he relates of liim that he was very affable, courteous, and oblig- ing in his manners, and j)leasant and agreeable in liis conversation. He had all the i:)assions com- pletely under control, and never exhibited anger or discontent, or immoderate grief or merriment, but w’as even-tempered, gentle, and kind, ahvays sympathizing wdtli the sick and afflicted, and ex- horting them to bear patiently those evils wdiich fell to their lot. He took an interest in the chil- dren of the house in wdiich he lived, amused and instructed them Avith a microscope, and often coun- selled them to go regularly to church, and taught them to be dutiful and obedient to their pa- I'ents. From the time of his separation from Judaism he ahvays lived Avith Christian families. Colerus tells us that he sometimes attended the Lutheran Church, praised the discourses of Dr. Cordes, the predecessor of Colerus, and counselled his landlord and the people of the house not to miss any sermon of so excellent a preacher. Cole- rus also relates that his landlady asked him one day “AAdiether he believed that she could be saved in the religion she professed,” and he ansAA^ered her: “Your religion is a good one; you need not look for another, nor doubt that you may be saved in it, provided that wdiilst you devote yourself to piety you live at the same time a i^eaceable and quiet life.” In making such a reply AA^e may AA^ell

LIFE AXD WRITINGS OF SPINOZA.

XXI

believe that Si^inoza had due regard to the con- dition and state of mind of the inquirer.

As early as 1661 the mind of Spinoza had l)een oc- cupied with those meditations which assumed a body and form in his great work, the ^‘Ethica.” It had been the subject of conversation and discussion with his friends, among some of whom it is quite x)robable that several of its parts had from time to time been circulated and read in manuscript. It had been most carefully studied and had undergone great elabora- tion, and each one of its propositions and demonstra- tions had been made perfectly harmonious witli every other, so that when finally compacted together as a whole it presented a body of logic which, grant- ing its fun^amenlal premise of God, as Substance, is almost without flaw, and has thus far maintained it- self against the assaults of all its assailants.

Though repeatedly urged to send it to press, Spinoza with his proverbial caution had for years lield it back. The storm of obloquy and reproach, mingled Avith much ignorant criticism, Avhich burst out uj)on the first appearance of the Tractatus Theo- logico-Politicus, had in a measure subsided, and it was now widely read and appreciated by the learned; but its first reception showed what might be expected if the Ethica should be put in the hands of readers whose minds were not prepared to examine and con- sider it fairly. In July 1675 he seems to have come to the conclusion to give it to the world, and left the Hague to put it to press at Amsterdam. But its

XXll

TRAXSLATOIl’ S PREFACE.

publication was destined to be still further delayed, and we cannot do better than state the reasons as- signed for it by himself in a letter "" to Oldenburg, at London. “At the moment of receiving your letter of 22nd July I was setting out for Amsterdam with a view to putting to press the work about which I wrote to you. AYhilst there, however, making my ar- rangements, a rumor got spread abroad that a book of mine upon God was soon to aj^pear, in which I en- deavored to prove that there was no God. This re- port I regret to add, was by many received as true. Certain theologians (who probably were themselves the authors of the rumor) took occasion upon this to lodge a complaint against me with the Prince and Magistracy ; and the silly Cartesians, in order to free themselves from every suspicion of favoiing my views, sat about abusing my writings and conclu- sions, and bringing me into evil odor, a course, in- deed, which they still continue to follow. Having received a hint of this state of things from some trustworthy friends, who assured me, further, that the theologians were everywhere lying in wait for me, I determined To olf my contemplated pub- lication until such time as I should see what turn affairs might take, and as matters seem every day to go from bad to worse, I am not yet resolved as to what I shall do.”

The book was not to see the light during his life-

Letter XIX. as translated by Willis in his Life, Correspondence and Ethics of Spinoza, p. 253.

LIFE AXD WRITIXGS OF SPIXOZA. xxiii

time. His liealtli was failing, and on tlie 21st Feb- ruary 1677 he died, and on the 25th his body was buried at the new church on the Spuy, the funeral being attended by a large concourse of friends and neighbors, and many illustrious persons.^ Thus ended the life of a great philosopher, who knew, and loved, and worshipped God in “ spirit and in truth.”

His landlord. Van der Spyck, faithfully carrying- out instructions, sealed up Si^inoza’s writing-desk which contained the manuscript of the Ethica and several other unpublished works, together with some of his correspondence, and sent it at once by packet boat to Joliann Hieuwertz, the printer, at Amsterdam.

These works, edited by Dr. Louis Meyer and Jarig Jellis, with a preface prepared by them, were j)ub- lished the same year (1677) in one volume, under the title : B. n S. Opera Postlmma. Quorum series Frcefationem exliihetur. The names of editors, prin- ter, and place of publication were omitted. Its con- tents t were (1) Ethics ; (2) A Treatise on Politics ;

* While preparing this preface I have read a newspaper paragraph which I copy here : A committee has been formed at the Hague for tlie purpose of organizing a movement to erect a statue in that city to Spinoza, the two hundredth anniversary of whose death will occur next March (new style). The president is Dr. M. F. A. G. Campbell, and the treasurer Mr. A. W. Jacobson, both of the Hague. Associate committees have been formed in other countries. Among the mem- bers of the English committee are Professors Bain, Huxley, Jowett, Max Muller, Tyndall, Principal Tulloch, Messrs. G. H. Lewes and Herbert Spencer.

t I. Ethica. More Geometrico demonstrata. II. Politica. III. De Emendatione Intellectus. IV. Epistolae, et ad eas Responsiones. V. Compendium Grammatices Lingute Hebrseae.

XXIV

traxslatoe’s preface.

(3) A Treatise on tlie Cultivation of the Under- standing ; (4) Correspondence ; (o) A Compendinni of Hebrew Grammar.

Seldom has tliere issued from the press a volume fraught with greater interest to the thoughtful. It is unnecessary to speak of the reception it met with. If its influence was slow, still it worked like leaven. Among the intellectual in Europe, especially in Germany, it fecundated philosophic and religious thought.

A century later the teachings of the Ethics had found a lodgment, in whole or in part, in the minds of Lessing, Jacobi, Herder, Goethe, Fichte, Schel- ling, Schiller, Schleiermacher, Hegel, Feuerbach, Auerbach, and a host of others, philosophers, di- vines, poets, essayists, novelists, through whose writings its influence has been widely diffused, en- lightening and enlarging the understanding, and modifying, rationalizing, and exalting religion and philosophy.

Spinoza was a truly religions philosopher, a pow- erful if not an invincible logician, and well versed in theology and politics. In his metaphysics he never loses himself or his reader. His feet are afways on terra flrma — his head never swims in the clouds. The form of the Ethica, which proceeds by a series of i^ropositions and demonstrations after the method pursued by geometricians, excludes whatever is not fairly susceptible of demonstration, and thus raises an effectual barrier against mere speculation or the

LIFE A^B WEITIIIGS OF SPINOZA.

XXV

figments of tlie imagination, — and herein, perhaps, lies one of the secrets of its power and endurance.

Four Latin editions of Spinoza’s works have been iniblished in Germany : that of Panins, at Jena, 1802-3 ; of Gfroerer, at Stuttgart, 1830 ; of Brnder, at Leipsic, 3 vols., 1843-4-6; and of Seidel {lie^iafi des Cartes et Benedlctl de Bpiiioza)^ Leipsic, 1843, — besides several translations.

In 1844 Emile Saisset published at Paris the first French translation, folloAved, in 1861, by a new and revised edition"- in three volumes, the first of Avhich was devoted to an Introduction, Criticism, and re- futation of the pantheism of Spinoza. In his Avanf- Fropos^ referring to the Introduction to his first edition, published sixteen years before, Saisset says that ‘Giis purpose at that time Avas not to refute Spinoza, but only to make his Avritings knoAvn, and that he had then deferred until another time the trouble and the peril of a refutation ; but that if he had so long delayed the fulfilment of his promise it assuredly Avas not for Avant of having thought of it, for from the commencement of his career he could say that Spinoza and Pantheism had been his most constant x>re-occupation, and that alAAmys and on all occasions he had signalized its progress and proclaimed the urgent necessity of combating it. Indeed he had done this so constantly that he

* (Euvres de Spinoza, traduites par Emile Saisset, Professeur d’His- toire de la Pliilosophie, et cet. Avec une Introduction Critique. Nouvelle edition. Paris, 1861.

XXVI

translator's preface.

had been laiigliingdy accused of troubling him self tco much about Spinoza, and of being subject to that optical illusion by which objects are magnified when looked at too long and fixedly.” He concludes : I wish with all my heart that it were so, and that Pantheism only existed in my imagination ; but perhaps tlie placid observers who think me too much alarmed by it, are like those wise persons who when there is a great conflagration do not fail to say, — it is nothing — it is only a flash, a sudden blaze {un feu de imille) which will soon go out of itself, — and then they retire into their houses, whilst others run to the Are.”

Whatever the effect of his refutation, it is certain that his translation, which is a very good and read- able one, has resulted in making Sj)inoza more widely known both in France and England.

In his Notice Bihliograpliique^ he mentions two works of Spinoza which had been lost or destroyed, — (1) A translation of the Pentateuch from the He- brew into the Hutch language. (2) A Treatise on the RainboAv. This last, however {tractatuluin de Iride)^ has been recovered and published by Hr. J. van Vloten, at Amsterdam, 1862. There has also been discovered, in the Hutch language,* another AAuiting of Spinoza, entitled Korte Y erliandeling tan God,

*“■ Saisset says the Ethica was first written in Dutch, and afterwards put into Latin (II parait que Spinoza avait d’abord ecrit I’Ethique en liollandais ; il la mit ensuite en latin). If this is only a supposition, it may have arisen from the “ van God, den MenscW''' having been circu- lated in Dutch.

LIFE AXD IVPvITIXaS OF SPIXOZA.

XXVll

den Mensch^ en dezelfs Welstand (On God, and on Man and liis well-being), wliicli has been published by Ed. Boehmer, at Halle, 1852, in Latin, under the title of Tractatus de Deo et liomine ej usque feli- citate. Ueberweg, in his History of Philosophy, says tliis treatise was written before 1661, and x^er- hax)s as early as 1655, and that it is a sketch of the sj^stem and an evident forerunner and herald of the Ethics.

In England, an anonymons translation of the Trac- tatns Theologico-Politicns appeared in 1689. Another English translation of the same work, also anon}'- inons, was x:)nblished in 1862.'^' This was followed in 1870 by a very able translation of the Ethicat and Correspondence, prefaced by a General Introduction and a comprehensive and interesting statement of Spinoza’ s life and relations with his friends and cor- respondents, and of the influence of his writings in Germany. This seems to have been the first aj^pear- ance of the Ethica in English.

Since Spinoza’s day many men have learned to tol-' erate differences of opinion. The voice of vulgar de- traction is therefore now seldom raised against liim.

* Tractatus Theologico-Politicus : A critical inquiry into the his- tory, purpose, and authenticity of the Hebrew Scriptures ; with the right to Free thought and Free discussion asserted, and shown to he not only consistent but necessarily bound up with true Piety and Good Government. By Benedict de Spinoza. “Hereby know we that we dwell in God, and God in us, because he hath given us of his Spirit. 1 John V. 13.” London : Triibner & Co. 1862.

f Benedict de Spinoza ; His Life, Correspondence, and Ethics ; b

R. Willis, M.D. “And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. John viii. 32.” London : Triibner & Co. 1870.

translator’s preface.

xxviii

The educated who do not accept his doctrines liave at least learned to respect the man. The sim- plicity, dignity, and trutlif illness of his character; the purity of his life, his noble sentiments and just judgments; his deep sense of religion and pie t}^ ; his all-pervading love of God, and his large love of man, — a love not fomented by the imagination, but springing from the understanding — an unselfish love, that looked for no reward that Avas not found in virtue, — these have subdued the hate Avith AAdiich so many prejudiced minds Avere AA^ont to regard his name, and noAv everyAAdiere throughout Protestant EurojAe the most learned, able, and sincere opponents of his doctrines enter into calm discussion of them, Avith esteem for his character, and a full knoAAdedge that they have to deal AAuth a grand intellect and a deep and earnest thinker. It is only Rome that^ launches anathemas'^ against his teachings, as Avell as

* Canon I. — 3. If any one shall say that the substance and essence of God and of all things is one and the same : let him be anathema.

4. If any one shall say that finite things, both corporeal and spirit- ual, have emanated from the divine substance ; or that the divine essence by the manifestation and evolution of itself becomes all things ; or, lastly, that God is universal or indefinite being, which by determining itself constitutes the universality of things, distinct accord- ing to genera, species, and individuals : let him be anathema.

5. If any one confess not that the world, and all things which are contained in it, both spiritual and material, have been, in their whole substance, produced by God out of nothing ; or shall say that God

'created, not by his will, free from all necessity, but by a necessity equal to the necessity whereby he loves himself ; or shall deny that the world was made for the glory of God ; let him be anathema.

Canon IY. — 2. If any one shall say that human sciences are to be so freely treated that their assertions, although opposed to revealed doc-

LIFE AND WRITINGS OF SPINOZA.

XXIX

against many of the results of modern science ; and certainly she has the same reason for it that she has always had in the past to denounce every new dis- covery, every progress of science and reason that unveiled any of the infallible ignorance imbedded in the interpretations, creeds, dogmas, and institutions fabricated by the prelates who have, at various \ times, composed her Clinrch Synods and Councils.

In a really able work, republished in this coun- try and strangely entitled Modern since

it is principally devoted to the refutation of Pan- theism, which above all other Theisms recognizes and proclaims God, — the learned author notices the “kindly indulgence” now extended to Spinoza and his writings. He says, — “One of the most signifi- cant symptoms of a reaction in favor of Pantheism may be seen in the nnmerons republications and versions of the writings of Spinoza which have re- cently appeared, in the public homage which has ])een paid to his character and genius, and in the more than x^hilosophic tolerance — the kindly indnl-

trine, are to be held as true, and cannot be condemned by the Church : let him be anathema.

3. If any one shall assert it to be possible that sometimes, according to the progress of science, a sense is to be given to doctrines pro- pounded by the Church different from that which the Church has un- derstood and understands : let him be anathema. — Dogmatic Decrees of the Vatican CowwaY, 1870. (Translated by Rev. Philip Schaff, D.D.)

* Modern Atheism, under its forms of Pantheism, Alaterialism, Secularism, Development, and Natural Laws. By James Buchanan, D.D., LL.D., Divinity Professor in the New College, Edinburgh. Bos- ton, 1867.

XXX

tkaxslator’s preface.

gence — wliicli lias been shoAvn to bis most cbarac- teristic princix)les. He is now recognized by many as the real founder both of the Philosophic and of the Exegetic Rationalism, which lias been apjdied, with such disastrous effect, to the interpretation alike of the volume of Mature and of the records of Revelation.” ‘‘All this might be accounted for by ascribing it simply to the admiration of philo- sophical tliinkers for the extraordinary talents of the man.” “But it is more difficult to exiDlain the eulogiums with which the reappearance of Spinoza has been greeted, and the cordiality with which his daring speculations have been received. He has not only been exculpated from the charge of Atheism, but even panegyrized as a saint and martyr!” The celebrated Grerman Divine, Schleier- macher, spoke of him as — “That holy and yet outcast man,” “who was full of the sentiment of religion, because he was filled with the Holy Spirit!” “Instead of accusing Sj^inoza of Athe- ism,” says M. Cousin, “he should rather be sub- jected to the opxDosite reproach.” “He has been loudly accused,” says Professor Saisset, “ of Athe. ism and impiety. The truth is that never did a man believe in God with a faith more profound, with a soul more sincere, than Spinoza. Take God from him, and you take from him his system, his thought, his life.” “Sj)inoza, although a Jew,’’ says the Abbe Sabatier, a member of the Catholic clergy, “always lived as a Christian, and was as

LIFE A:S'D WRITIXGS OF SPIA^OZA.

xxxi

Avell versed in our divine Testament as in tlie books of the ancient Law. If he ended, as we cannot doubt he did, in embracing Christianity, he ought to be enrolled in the remit of saints^ instead of being idaced at the head of the enemies of God.'’ “Contrast the language in which Spinoza is now compared to Thomas a Kempis, and proposed as a fit subject for canonization itself, with the terms in which he was wont to be spoken of by men of former times ; and tlie startling difference will suffi ciently indicate a great change in the current of European thought.”

The principal object of these prefatory remarks, as stated at the commencemeDt, was to present a brief sketch of the celebrated philosotDher’s life, and a mere bibliographic notice of his writings, in order that those readers who were not before ac- quainted with them might be able to form an esti- mate of his character ; and this having been ac- complished, I do not think it necessary to extend them further by attempting to give even a brief resume of the doctrines enunciated in the “Ethics,” a version of Avhich is now presented ; for with the work in hand it would, indeed, seem suiDerfluous, even if I were competent to perform such a task properly. In all complete systems of philosophy and religion a conception of God is fundamental. I will therefore only venture to add that we meet at the outset, in the First Part of the Ethics, with a definition or conception of God as the Absolutely

XXXll

TKAXSLATOll’ S PREFACE.

Infinite Being, or Substance, — infinite in extension as well as infinite in tliouglit, — eternal, without be- ginning or end, — self -existent, iincaused, — or to use the equivalent expression of Si^inoza, causa sui^ its own cause, or cause of itself. All things are in (lod, and nothing can be, or be conceived to be out of God. God is dbom all, and tlcrougli all, and in all; and all things live, and move, and have their being in God.^ This conception is most ad-

In contradistinction to this conception there is the Theism which affirms a definite, living, personal God, separate and distinct from Na- ture, who has created the universe and all things therein out of no- thing, and who rules and governs all for an end or purpose. It is not to be presumed that all theologians now hold to this conception of a personal God in its Uterality. The conception of the vulgar, however, is still that of an anthropomorphic Deity — a Deity in human shape or form, who resides in Heaven, and is generally imagined as seated on a throne — a Personality which the imagination of man projects as a magnified and deified image of himself. The language usually em- ployed in religious services when speaking of or addressing the Deity, fosters this imagination, which is readily entertained not only by the uncultivated, hut also by the intelligent and pious whose religious faith and hopes are founded upon it, or who think it wise to adhere to a belief established by prescription and bound up with so many of the doctrines of the Church and the supposed well-being of society.

Both of these conceptions existed under the Paganism that was van- quished and absorbed by Christianity, and both of them reappear in the sacred gospels and other writings of the first and second centuries. The one represented the philosophic thought and reasoning of the few, the Other, the imagination and faith of the many. At that period not more than one-eighth part of the surface of our Earth was known to the nations among which the Christian religion was then being first taught. Its form, position, and movement in our planetary system were equally unknown, and there was none but the most inadequate conception of the universe. As man looked around him, the horizon seemed to bound his earthly habitation, and as he looked upward, the sky seemed to cover him in like a not far distant roof, above which and beyond his vision was the dwelling-place of the gods who ruled

LIFE AND AVRITINGS OF SPINOZA.

XXXlll

mirably and clearly set fortli. It lias its source in the reason or understanding, not in the imagina- tion, and is iioav very generally accepted by phi- losophers, men of science, and the most free and thoughtful minds everywhere. In the Second Part, the philosopher treats of tlie origin and nature of the human mind or soul. In the Third, Fourth, and Fifth Parts, the source and nature of the hu- man emotions or passions are investigated, their power defined, and the way pointed out whereby their excessiA^e and therefore hurtful action may be controlled, so that man may be enabled to Ih'e in accordance Avith tlie dictates of reason and enjoy that supreme felicity and immortality of soul Avhich the practice of Aurtue, and the knoAvledge and intel- lectual loA^e of God, can alone procure. If ‘Glie proper study of mankind is man,” he avIio Avould ‘G^now himself” Avill here find a volume of nature opened in his hand, and AAutli the aid of his oaati reflection may learn in it that Avliich he Avill noAvhere else find so clearly and so fully set forth.

In an interesting and instructiA^e reAueAv"^ of Spinoza, by J. A. Fronde, that able English Avriter speaking of this portion of the Ethics, and referring to Sjiinoza’s

the affairs of the world. The conception of a personal anthropomor- phic Deity was consistent with so limited a knowledge of the universe. It were useless to point out that whatever there is of conflict between Science and the Church, grows out of these differing conceptions of God. Between true Religion and Science, however, there is not and can never be any conflict.

* Republished in his Short Studies on Great Subjects.

XXXIV

translator’ s preface.

explanation of the composition of the human body and of the human mind, and the unity which depends on the relation which the component parts maintain towards each other, says: “This is obviously the case with the body, and if we can translate meta- physics into common experience it is equally the case witli mind. Thei'e are pleasures of sense and plea- sures of intellect ; a thousand tastes, tendencies, and inclinations form onr mental composition ; and since one contradicts another, and each has a tendency to become dominant, it is only in the harmonious equi- poise of their several activities, in their due and just subordination, that any unity of action or consistency of feeling is possible. After a masterly analysis of all these tendencies (the most complete by far which has ever been made by any moral philosopher), Spinoza arrives at the principles under which unity and con- sistency can be obtained as the condition upon which a being so composed can look for any sort of happi- ness ; and these principles arrived at as they are by a route so different, are the same, and are proposed by Spinoza as being the same, as those of the Christian religion.'’

This recognition of the remarkable insight and ability with wliicli Spinoza has treated of the affec- tions or passions is but a repetition of what has always been conceded ; and, more recently, we again find it repeated by Dr.. ALaudsley, who by his special pro- fessional studies may be regarded as competent to speak on the subject, and who, in his work on

LIFE AND AV^JUTINGS OF SPINOZA.

XX XY

the Physiology and Pathology of the Mind (Cliap. VI., the Emotions), London, 1867, says tliat ‘‘Sj)inoza’s admirable account of the j^assions lias never yet been sui‘X)assed, and certainly will not easily be surpassed.”

Many wlio have sought ‘‘to know wisdom and in- struction ; to perceive the w'oids of understanding” ; many of the intellectual, the virtuous, the free, who have studied the “Ethics,” have found in it satisfac- tion, peace of soul, rest. For it is through the under- standing alone, not through tlie imagination, that man can attain to true knowledge of the absolute perfec- tion, and power, and love of God.

Looked at as a philosoxdiical work, the Ethics is a body of X)ure reason. The imagination has no place in it. Regarded merely as a literary work, and with reference to the xnesent time and tastes, its form, its style, is cold and unattractive ; its language is plain, literal, iterative, and devoid of any rhetorical display. Besides, the frequent references to Prox^ositions, etc., intersx^ersed throughout the text will ax)pear like ob- structions to the reader who does not wish to stox) to consult them. But if, as Emerson says, “nothing but great w^eigh tin things can afford a quite literal sx^eech,” here at least are treated subjects so lofty, so weighty, of such high interest to the earnest seeker and thought- ful reader (Spinoza wrote for no others), that even the rigid form and cold simx^licity and directness of the geometrical method of the work is not without a charm to the x^hilosophical student, while it gives to its ar-

XXXVl

TK AXSLATOE' 8 PKKF ACE.

guiiieiits a force and effect wliicli could not be in- creased by a more free and ornate discursive style.

T liave now only to add a word by way of explana- tion and apology for my undertaking. In I860 I employed sncli evening, hours as I could conveniently devote for the purpose, in making a translation of the Ethics ; and although I Avas but poorly fitted for the task, and 1113^ progress necessarily slow and often in- terrupted, A'et I succeeded in completing the First and Second Parts. Unable to continue the Avork I put it aside, Avith the intention, hoAvever, of resuming it AA'henever an opportunity^ occurred. But this Avas long delay^ed, for although a month scarcely^ eA^er passed AA'ithont my' thinking of the matter, y'et it Avas not until the A\'inter of 1873-4 that I AA'as again able to devote some evening hours to it. AVhen I had linished the Fourth Part I Avas once more obliged to desist. In the folloAAing summer I learned that an English translation had been published in London, and at once sent for a copy'. It proved to be the Avork of Dr. Willis, of Avhich I have already' made mention. I noAv felt that my' labor Avas unnecessaiy, and for the time abandoned all thought of completing it. But Avhen Avinter came and I had some spare even- ing hours, a desire revived to finish AA'hat had so long occupied my' mind, and I resolved to comxffete the translation that I might offer it, mentally', as a hum- ble tribute of respect for the pure and wise soul Avho kneAv and loved God AA'ith an understanding Avhich enabled him to * * AA'orshix) in spirit and in truth."

LIFE AND WRITINGS OF SPINOZA. XXXvii

The first and second jjarts were translated from Bnider s Leipsic edition, 1843, and the remaining yarts from the oi'iginal Amsterdam edition, 1677 (my coijy of whi(!li bears on a fly-leaf the autograph of Anthony ( ■ollins, a writei* of celebrity, and a corresi^ondent and intimate friend of John Locke). I have also had before me Sq,isset’s French translation, and, besides, have had the benefit of comparing niy version, aftei* its completion, with that of Dr. Willis, in order that if any material differences were found, I might re-ex- amine the original.

(Jommenced and cariied on as a means of enjoy- ment after daily labor, and without any definite in- tention or scar(V‘ly even a passing thought of pub- lishing it, I certainly should not now venture to put it in print but for the fact that no translation of any of Spinoza’s writings has been jmblished in this coun- try ; and it is only after much and proper hesitation that I have finally concluded to send it to press, in the hope that if there are some who would be pleased to read a version of the Ethics, this, if it reaches their hands, may be accepted as a useful contribution to their convenience. D. D. S.

PlNIiLEWOOI), N. J. July, 1876.

CORRECTIONS.

Page 37. 13th line,— /or Prop. 16, read Prop. 17.

“ 62. 3d line,— /or Gocl is Olie. reeid God is One.

“ 81. Last line,— /or and read or.

“ 94. 9th line from bottom, — after Prop. 28, read Part I. “ 155. 22d line,— /or Prop. 9, read Scliol. Prop. 9.

249. 8th line,— /or Coroll. read Coroll. I.

“ 249. 8th line,— o/jfer therefore read (by Prop. 19).

THE ETHICS.

IN FIVE PARTS.

Paet j I. — Of God.

II. — Of the Xatuee axd Okigix of the Soul.

III. — Of the Origix axd jS'ature of the

Affections or Passions.

IV. — Of Man’s Slavery, or the Force of

THE Passions.

i/ V.— Of Man’s Freedom, or the Power of the Understanding.

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ETHICS

FIKST, PAKT.

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j If

A

OF GOD.

DEFIXITIOXS

: A ■ :

' I. I understand by cause of itself that the essence of which involves existence ; or that which by its nature can only be conceived as existing.

II. A thing is said to be finite in its Idncl when it can be limited by another thing of the same nature. A body, for example, is called a finite thing, because Ave can ahvays conceive another and larger body. In the same way one thought is limited by another thought ; but a body is not limited by a thought, nor a thought by a body.

III. I understand by Substance that Avhich exists of itself, and is conceded by and through itself ; that is to say, that of which the conception can be formed Avithout having need of the conception of any other thing as its cause.

IT. I understand by attribute that AAdiich the un- derstanding perceives in substance as constituting its essence.

4

SPINOZA’S ETHICS.

S'

Y. I understand by mode an affection of substance, or tliat which is in some other thing, by or through which it is also conceived.

YI. I understand by God the Absolutely Infinite Being ; that is to say, substance constituted l)X-mi infinity of attributes, each of which expresses an elernal imd infinlT^'^essence.

Explancdion. — I say absolutely infinite — not in- finite in its kind ; for that Avhich is only infinite in its kind may be denied infinity of attributes ; but to the essence of the absolutely infinite belongs whatsoever expresses essence and involves no negation.

YII. A thing is said to be free which exists by the sole necessity of its own nature, and is determined to action by itself alone. A thing is necessary^ or rather eoustrained^ which is determined by some other thing to exist and to act in a certain determinate manner.

YIII. By eternity I understand existence itself, as it is conceived as following necessarily from the very definition of the thing eternal.

Expt. — For such existence as is conceived as an eternal verity is the very essence of the thing eternal ; and therefore it cannot be explained by duration or time, even though duration may be conceived as hav- ing neither beginning uor end.

AXIOMS.

I. AYliatever is, is in itself or in some other thing.

II. A thing which cannot be conceived by another thing must be conceived by itself.

III. A determinate cause being given, an effect necessarily follows ; and on the contrary, if no de- terminate cause be given, it is impossible for an effect to follow.

PAliT I. — OF GOD.

fL TV. Knowledge of an elfect dej^ends upon know- edge of its cause, and involves it.

Y. Tilings Avliicli have nothing in common with each other cannot be understood the one by the other ; or, in other w'ords, the conception of one does not in- volve the conception of the other.

YI. A true idea must agree with its ideate (image or conception of a thing).

YII. When a thing can be conceived as non-exist- ent, its essence does not involve existence.

PROPOSITIOXS.

PROP. I. — Substance is prior in nature to its atFections.

Demoxstkatiox. — This is evident by Definitions 3 and 5.

PROP. II. — Between two substances whicli liave different attributes there is nothing in common.

Demoxstu. — This also is manifest from Def. 3. For each substance must be in itself and be conceived by itself ; in other words, the conception of one of them does not involve the conceiition of the other.

PROP. III. — Things that have nothing in com- mon cannot be the cause one of another.

Demoxstk. — If they have nothing in common, then (by Axiom 5) they cannot be understood by one an- other ; and, consequently (by Axiom 4), cannot be the cause one of another, q. e. d.

6

spixoza’s ethics.

PEOP. TV. — Two or more distinct things are distinguished from each other either hy the diversity of tlie attributes of their sub- stances or by the diversity of the affec- tions of the same.

Demoxste. — All that is, is either in itself or in another thing (by Axiom 1) ; that is to say (by Defs. 3 and 5), beyond the understanding there is nothing given except substances and their affections. Conse- quently, there is nothing besides the understanding by which individual things can be distinguished from each Other except substances, or, which comes to the same (by Def. 4), their attributes and affections.

Q. E. D.

PEOP. Y. — In the nature of things there can- not be two or more substances of the same nature or attribute.

Demoxste. — If several distinct substances existed, they would be distinguished from each other either by diversity of attributes or by diversity of affections (by preceding Prop.). If by diversity of attributes only, then it were conceded that there is but one sub- stance with the same attribute ; if by diversity of affections only, then, as substance is prior in nature to its affections (by Prop. 1), it would follow that, put- ting aside its affections, and considering substance in itself — that is (by Defs. 3 and 6), considering it truly, it could not be conceived as distinct from other sub- stances ; in other words (by preceding Proji.), there cannot be several substances, but one only. q. e. d.

o

PART I. — OF GOD.

7

PEOP. YI. — One substance cannot be produced by anotber substance.

De^ioxstr. — There cannot in the nature of things be two substances with the same attribute (by x)reced- ing Prop.) ; that is (by Prop. 2), Avhich have some- thing in common ; and so (by Prop. 3) one substance cannot be the cause of, or be produced by another substance. Q. e. d.

Corollary. — Hence it follows that substance cannot be i^roduced by any other thing ; for in the nature of things there is nothing but substances and their affections, as appears by Ax. 1 and Defs. 3 and 5. Yow, as substance cannot be produced by substance (by preceding Prox).), therefore, and absolutely, it cannot be ]produced by any other thing, q. e. d.

Axotiier Demoxstr. — It is still more easily de- monstrated by absurdity ; for if substance could be produced by something else, knowledge of substance would depend upon knowledge of its cause (by Ax. 4), and therefore (by Def, 3) it would not be substance.

PKOP. YII. — Existence belongs to tlie nature of substance.

Demoxstr. — The production of substance is im- possible (by Coroll, to p) receding Prop.). Substance, therefore, is the cause of itself ; that is (by Def. 1), its essence necessarily involves existence ; or, in other words, existence belongs to its nature, q. e. d.

PKOP. — All substance is necessarily

infinite.

Demoxstr. — ^^Substance x^ossessing one attribute

8

spixoza’s ethics.

exists only as one (by Prop. 5), and to exist belongs to • its nature (by Prop. 7). It will, therefore, by its nature exist either finitely or infinitely. Xow, it is impos- sible that it should exist finitely, for (by Def. 2) then it would be limited by another substance of the same nature, which would also have to exist necessarily (by Prop. 7), so that there would be two substances with the same attribute, which is absurd (by Prop. 5). Therefore it exists infinitely, q. e. d.

Scholium 1. — As finity is in truth iiartial negation of existence, and infinity the absolute affirmation of existence of every nature, it follows, therefore, from Prop. 7, alone, that all substance must be infinite.

SciiOL. 2. — They who judge confusedly of all things, and who are not accustomed to know them hj their first causes, I do not doubt will find it difficult to un- derstand the demonstration of our 7th Proposition. The difficulty here arises from not distinguishing be- tween the modifications of substances and the sub- stances themselves, and from ignorance of the Avay in which things are produced. And hence it is, seeing that natural things have a beginning they imagine that it is so with substances. They who are ignorant of the true causes of things confound all, and without any mental doubt or reluctance they fanc}^ plants and trees and animals, as well as men, to be endowed with speech, and to spring from stones as well as to be generated from seed, and that one form can be trans- muted into another. It is thus, also, that they who confound the Divine with human nature readily as- cribe human passions to God, even whilst they are yet ignorant as to how the passions are produced in the soul of man.

If men, however, were attentive to the nature of substance they would not in the least doubt the truth

PAKT I. — OF GOD.

9

of our 7tli Proposition, — on tlie contrary, it would be an axiom for all, and be counted among common ideas or notions. For by substance they wonld nn- \derstand that which is in itself and is conceived by \tself, that is to say, it would be that the conception <^f which has no need of the conception of any other t\iing ; and by moditications or modes they would, on tie contrary, understand that which is in another thing, and of which the conception is formed by and through the conception of that other thing. And hence it is that we are able to form true ideas of non- existent moditications ; for although they have no actual existence out of the understanding, yet then- essence is comprehended in some other thing in such a way that they may be conceived by or through that other thing. But substance being conceived only by and through itself, it has not, beyond or out of the understanding, any verity save in itself.

If, therefore, any one should say that he had a clear and distinct, or, in other Avords, a true idea of sub- stance, and nevertheless doubted Avhether such sub- stance existed, that would indeed be the same as if he said that he had a true idea and yet doubted Avhether it was not a false idea (as Avill be manifest to any one who considers the matter). Or, if he should maintain that substance was created, this would be like maintaining that a false idea might become a true idea — than which nothing more absurd can be con- ceived. It must, therefore, necessarily be admitted that the existence as well as the essence of substance is an eternal verity.

And in this way we may conclude that there exists only one substance of the same nature, a point which I think it worth the trouble to establish here still more fully ; and that I may do this in proper order.

10

spixoza’s ethics.

it is to be observed : 1. That the true definition of a particular tiling neither involves nor expresses any- thing more than the nature of the thing defined. 2. From this it follows : That no definition involves or ex^iresses any certain number of individuals, inas- much as it expresses nothing more than the nature of the particular thing defined. For examxDle : the de- linition of a triangle exjiresses nothing more than the simxile nature of the triangle, and does not ex^irass any certain number of triangles. 3. It is to be ob- served that there is necessarily some x)articular cause for the existence of each individual thing that exists. 4. Lastl}", it is to be noted that the cause by which each individual thing exists, must either be included in the very nature and definition of the thing existing itself (for it certainly belongs to its nature to exist), or else it must be outside of or beyond the individual thing in question.

From these premises it follo^vs that if in nature there exists any certain number of individuals, it is necessary that there should be a cause why this pre- - else number of individuals, neither more nor less, should exist. If, for examxile, in the nature of things 20 men exist (and for the sake of greater perspicuity I will suppose them to exist simultaneously, and that no others in nature existed before them), it will not suffice (in order to give a reason for the existence of these 20 men) to show the cause of human nature in general ; but it is further necessary to show a cause wliy neither more nor less than 20 men exist ; inas- much as by Observation 3 there must necessarily be a cause wily each xiarticular individual (among the 20) exists. Xow^ this cause (by Observations 2 and 3) cannot be contained in human nature itself, inasmuch as the true definition of man does not in anywise in-

PAPwT I. — OF GOD.

11

volve tlie number tioeniy ; so that (by Observation 4) the cause why these twenty men exist, and conse- quently why each particular one of them exists, must necessarily be out of and external to eacli and every one of them. AYherefore we may conclude absolutely that everything of which by its nature there may exist many individuals, must necessarily have an ex- ternal cause for its existence. lYow, ^ince existence belongs to the nature of substance (as already shown in this Scholium), the definition of substance must necessarily involve its existence ; and consequently from its very definition alone must its existence be concluded. But from this definition (as shown in Observations 2 and 3) it does not follow that several substances exist, but it does follow necessarily that there exists only one substance of the same nature^ — as we proposed to establish.

PROP. IX. — The more of reality or being any- thing has, the greater will be the number of attributes it possesses.

DemoxstPw. — This is evident by Def. 4.

PROP. X. — Each particular attribute of the one substance must be conceived by and throngh itself.

De-Aioxstr. — Attribute is that which the mind per- ceives in substance as constituting its essence (by Def. 4). It must, therefore (by Def. 3), be conceived by and through itself, q. e. d.

ScnoL. — It appears by this that although two attri- butes may be conceived as really distinct, that is, the one without the aid of the other, still we cannot con-

12

spixoza’s ethics.

elude from tins tliat tney constitute two different beings or substances. For it is of tlie nature of sub- stance tliat each of its attributes sliould be conceiv- able by itself, inasmucli as all its attributes were always in it, and no one of tliein was ever produced by anotlier, but each one individually expresses the reality or being of substance. It is therefore very far from being an absurdity to ascribe several attri- butes to one substance. For nothing in nature is clearer than that each individual entity must be con- ceived under some attribute or other, and that the more it has of reality or being, the greater will be the number of its attributes which express the necessity or eternity and infinity of its nature ; and conse- quently nothing can be clearer than that we must necessarily define the Absolutely Infinite Being (as we have done in Bef. 6) as the Being consisting of an infinity of attributes, each of which expresses a cer- tain eternal and infinite essence. If, now, any one •should ask by what sign diversity of substances may be distinguished, he has only to read the following Propositions, which show tliat in the nature of things there exists only one substance, and that it is ab- solutely infinite ; so that to seek for such a sign is qierfectly useless.

PROP. XL — God, or Substance constituted of an infinity of attributes, each of which s expresses an eternal and infinite essence, exists necessarily.

I)e:\ioxste. 1. — If you deny this, conceive, if it be possible, that God does not exist. Then (by Ax. 7) the essence of God would not involve existence. But

PAPwT J. — OF GOD.

13

this (by Prop. 7) is absurd. God therefore exists necessarily, q. e. d.-

Demoxstr. 2. — A cause or reason must be assign- able for the existence or the non-existence of each individual thing. For example, if a triangle exists, there must be a reason or cause for its existence. If it does not exist, there must likewise be a reason or cause whicli prevents or which annuls its existence. Xow this cause or reason must be found either in the nature of the thing, or outside of and beyond it. For example, the reason why a square circle does not exist is indicated by the nature of the thing itself, and no less because the idea of such a thing involves a contradiction. But, on the contrary, the reason why substance exists, is because it follows from its very nature, which involves existence {^ide Prop. 7). But the reason of the existence or non-existence of a circle or a triangle does not follow from the nature of either, but from the universal order of corporeal or material nature, from which it must follow either that the triangle already necessarily exists, or that it was impossible for it ever to exist. This is self- evident. It follows from this that a thing exists necessarily when there is no cause or reason to pre- vent or annul its existence. If, therefore, no cause can be assigned that would prevent or destroy the existence of God, it is absolutely to be concluded that God exists necessarily. But if any such cause or reason could be given, it would have to be found either in the nature of God or out of it ; that is — it would have to be found in another substance of a different nature ; for to imagine it in a substance of the same nature would be to concede the existence of God. But substance of another nature could have nothing in common with God (by Prop. 2), and so

14

spixoza’s ethics.

could iieitlier be tlie cause of God’s existence nor destroy it. Since, therefore, there cannot be found out of or extraneous to God any cause or reason which abrogates or destroys the Divine existence, such cause or reason does not exist, or else it must be found in God — which involves a manifest contradic- tion. But it is absurd to affirm a contradiction in the absolutely infinite and consummately perfect Being. Therefore, as there is neither in God nor out of God any cause or reason that can abrogate or destroy the Divine existence, it follows that God exists neces- sarily. Q. E. H.

Dehoxstr. 3. — Xot to be able to exist, implies im- potence ; and on the contrary, to be able to exist, implies power. (This is obvious.) If, therefore, that which exists necessarily comprised finite beings only, it would follow that finite beings were more powerful than the absolutely infinite Being, which (obviously) is absurd. Therefore, either nothing exists, or else the absolutely infinite Being exists necessarily. But we exist either in ourselves, or in something else which exists necessarily {mde Ax. 1 and Prox). 7). There- fore, an absolutely infinite Being, that is (by Def. 6), God, exists necessarily, q. e. d.

ScHOL. — In this last demonstration I desired to show the existence of God d posteriori^ in order that the demonstration might be more easily perceived, and not because the existence of God does not also follow d priori from the very same grounds. For as ability to exist is a power, it follows that the more of reality the nature of anything possesses, the more ]30wer it has of itself to exist ; and consequently the absolutely infinite Being, or God, has an absolutely infinite xiower of existence, and therefore exists abso- lutely or necessarily. And yet some, perchance, may

PART I. — OF GOD.

1.5

not readily perceive tlie clearness of this demonstra- tion, because they are accustomed to contemplate those things only that result from external causes ; and because they see that that which grows quickly — that is to say, which exists easily, perishes just as quickly and easily ; whilst, on the contrary, those things which they judge to be formed with more difficulty — that is, which exist not so readily or easily, they conceive to have more endurance. To free these persons from such prejudices, I do not think there is need to show here for what reason the homely adage — ‘^soon ripe, soon rotten” {quod cito jit^ cito peril) — is true, nor yet to consider whether, in respect to nature at large, all things exist with ' equal facility, or otherwise. It will suffice merely to remark that I do not speak here of things produced by external causes, but of substance only, which (by Proj). 6) can be produced by no external cause. For things that are produced by external causes, whether they are composed of many or of few parts, owe all that they have of perfection or reality to the virtue of the cause which produced them, so that their exis- tence depends on the perfection of the external cause alone, and does not arise from the things themselves.

On the contrary, whatever perfection substance may have is due to no external cause. Wherefore its ex- istence must follow from its own nature, and conse- quently is nothing else than its very essence. Per- fection, therefore, does not destro}^ the existence of a thing, but affirms it ; imperfection, on the contrary, destroys it ; so that there is not anything of whose existence we can be more certain than of the existence of the absolutely infinite and perfect Being, to wit,

God ; for inasmuch as the essence of God excludes all imperfection, and involves all i)erfection abso-

16

spixoza’s ethics.

lutely, every cause for doubt of God’s existence dis- appears, and we have the highest possible certitude of it — which I believe will be clear to every one who gives the subject even a moderate degree of attention.

PROP. XII. — Xo one can properly conceive any attribute of substance from which it could follow that substance might be divisible.

Demoxstu. — For the parts into which substance might be conceived to be divided would either retain the nature of substance or they would not. If they did, then (by Prop. 8) each part would be infinite and (b}' Proj). 6) cause of itself, and (b}^ Prop. 5) consti- tuted by a different attribute ; so that out of one sub- stance several might be constituted, which (by Prop. 6) is absurd. Add to this : that these parts (by Prop. 2) would have nothing in common with the whole which the}^ comjDosed, and that the whole (by Def. 4 and Prop. 10) without its parts would exist and be conceivable as existing, and 3^011 have a consequence the absurdity of which no one will doubt. In the second case — that is, if the parts did not retain the nature of substance, then* if the whole of substance were divided into equal parts it would lose the nature of substance and cease to be, which (by Prop. 7) is absurd.

PROP. XIII. — The absolute!}^ infinite substance is indivisible.

Demoxstk. — For if it were divisible, the parts into which it was divided would either retain the nature of absolutely infinite substance or thejr would not. In the first case, there would then be several sub- stances of the same nature, which (by Prop. 5) is

* PAET I. — OF GOD.

17

absurd. If tlie second case is supposed, then (as shown above) the absolutely intinite substance would cease to be, which (by Proj). 11) is also absurd.

Coroll. — It follows from this that no substance, and consequently no corporeal substance, in so far as it is substance, is divisible,

SciiOL. — That substance is indivisible will perliajis be more plainly understood by this alone : that the nature of substance cannot be conceived save as in- tinite, and that by a part of substance nothing else could be understood than a Unite substance, which (by Froj). 8) manifestly implies a contradiction.

* PROP. XIY. — There cannot be, nor be conceiv- ed to be, any other substance besides God.

Dexoxstr. — Since God is the absolutely infinite Being to which no attribute that expresses the es- sence of substance can be denied (by Def. 6), and as this substance exists necessarily (by Prop. 11), did any other substance exist besides God it Avould have to be explained by some attribute of God, aud thus tvvm substances with the same attribute would exist, which (by Prop. 5) is absurd. Xo substance othei* than God, therefore, can exist, and consequently can- not be conceived. For if it could be conceived, it must necessarily be conceived as existing, and this (by the first part of this demonstration) is absurd. Therefore no substance other than God can exist or be conceived as existing, q. f. d.

Coroll. 1. — From this it follows very clearly : 1st. That God is one — that is (by Def. 6), in the nature of things there can be but one substance, and that is absolutely infinite, as shown in the Scholium to the 10th Proposition.

3

18

spixoza’s ethics. •

Coroll. 2. — It follows, 2d. That the thing extended and the thiiig thinldng are attributes of God, or (by Ax. 1) affections of attributes of God.

PEOP. XV. — Whatever is, is in God ; and nothing can be, nor be conceived to be, without God.

Demoxstr.— Out of God there does not exist nor can there be conceived any substance (by Prop. 14) ; that is to say (by Def. 3), there is nothing (out of God) which exists in itself and is conceived by itself. Modes, also (by Def. 5), cannot be nor be conceived to exist without substance ; wherefore they are in the Divine nature alone, and can be conceived by and through it alone. But there is nothing besides sub- stance and inodes (by Ax. 1}. Therefore nothing can l)e, nor be conceived to be, without God. q. e. n.

SciiOL. — By some persons God is often imagined as a Being consisting, like man, of a body and mind, and subject, like man, to passions. The demonstrations already given are sufficient to show how remote such thoughts are from a true knowledge of God. But I pass this by ; for all who have ever contemplated the Divine nature in any proper method deny that God is coriioreal — a truth which is excellently proven by this : that by body we understand a certain quantity liaving length, breadth, and thickness, and bounded ])y a definite outline or figure, which cannot be said of God, the absolutely infinite Being, without the utmost absurdity. But from other reasons adduced by those who have such a conception of God in their endeavors to demonstrate it, they clearly show that in their view corporeal or extended substance is en- tirely separate from the Divine nature, and they maintain that it was created by God. By wliat

PAET I. — OF GOD.

19

Divine poAver created, lioweA^er, they are Avliolly ignorant, which sufficiently sIioaa’s that they them- seDes do not understand wdiat they say. But I, in my oAvn opinion at least, liaA^e demonstrated clearly enough {vAde Coroll, to Prop. 6 and Schol. 2 to Prop. 8) that no substance can be created or produced by another substance. Moreover, it is shoAvn by Proi^o- sition 14 that no other substance besides CtocI can ex- ist or be conceived to exist ; and hence we have con- cluded that extended substance is one of the" infinite attributes of ^Ddr'”''Bufpm order that it may be more fully explained, I shall here refute the arguments of opponents, all of Avhich may be rediu'ed to these : First. Thex say that corporeal substance, considered as substance, consists; of oji4^ madtTTfp of parts^and theretore they deny that these parts cnn oe’Ttffinite and^ pertain to (dod. This they exi3lain by many examples, one oFfvvo of which I shall here examine. If corporeal substance be infinite, say they, let us conceive it diAuded into tAvo parts. Then each part Avill either be finite or infinite. If finite, then the infinite Avill be composed of tAvo finite parts, AAhich is absurd. If infinite, then there Avill be one infinite tAAUce as great as another infinite, AAhich is equally absurd. Moreover, if an infinite quantity Avere to be measured by parts equal to feet., it Avould be com- posed of an infinite number of such parts, just as it

Avould be if it AA^ere measured by parts equal to inches; and consequently one infinite number Avould be tAvelve times greater than another

A

c infinite number. Lastly, if

from a point. A, in any infinite extent, AA^e conceive tAvo diverging lines, A B and A C, to be draAAm and

20

spixoza’s ethics.

liroducecl indefinitely, it is certain that tlie dis- tance bet^Yeen B and C will increase continually, and f roni being determinate it will become indeterminable. Since, therefore, such absurdities follow, as our op- ponents say, from quantit}^ being supposed infinite, the}^ conclude that corporeal substance must be finite, and consequently that it cannot pertain to the essence of God.

Their second argument is drawn from the supreme perfection of God. For God, say they, being a su- premely perfect Being, cannot suffer. But corporeal substance, inasmuch as it is divisible, can suffer ; it follows therefore that it cannot pertain to the essence of God.

Such, I find, are the arguments by which writers endeavor to show that corporeal substance is un- worthy of the Divine nature, and cannot therefore belong to it. But if strict attention has been given it will be seen that I have already ansAvered all such arguments as these, inasmuch as they are all based solely on the suj)position that corporeal substance is composed of parts, which (by Prop. 12 and Coroll, to Prop. 13) I have shown to be absurd. Again, who- ever properly considers the matter will perceive that .all the absurdities (if, indeed, all are absurd, which I do not dispute) from which they conclude that ex- tended substance is finite, do by no means follow from quantity being supposed infinite, but from the sup- j position that infinite quantity is mensurable and com- ! posed of finite parts. Whereas these absurd su impo- sitions, and the inferences that follow from them, can lead to no other conclusion than that infinite quantity is not mensurable, and that it cannot be composed of finite parts. And this is precisely what we liave .already demonstrated (Prop. 12, etc.) The weapon

PAKT I. — OF GOD.

21

therefore liiiiied against us has returned upon them- selres. If, therefore, from the absurdities which are their own work, they still persist in maintaining that extended substance must be finite, they take nx)on themselves a no less herculean labor than would he Avho should fancy that a circle had the properties of a square, and then maintain that a circle has no cen- tral point from which all lines drawn to the circum- ference are equal. For corporeal substance, which can be conceived only as infinite, only as one, and only as indivisible {vide ProiDS. 8, 5, and 12), they, in order to maintain their conclusion,- have to conceive as finite, as composed of finite parts, as multiple, and as divis- ible ; in the same way as other reasoners, who, after imagining a line to be composed of points, know how to invent arguments to show that it cannot be divis- ible to infinity. And, indeed, it is no less absurd to maintain that corporeal substance is composed of bodies or of parts than it is that a body is comi)osed of superficies, superficies of lines, and, finally, the lines of points. And this all must admit who know right reason to be infallible ; and, above all, those who deny a vacuum in nature. For if corporeal sub- stance could be divided in such a way that the parts would be really distinct from each other, why might not one part be annihilated, and the other remaining parts be connected with one another as before ? And why should all the parts adax)t and fit themselves to each other in such a way that there could be no vacuum? Certainly when things are really distinct from each other, one may exist without the other and continue in its state of being. Since, then, there is no vacuum in nature (of which I shall say more in another place), all its parts concurring in such wise that there shall be none, hence it follows that these

22

SPINOZA’S ETHICS.

parts cannot really be clistingnislied ; in otlier words, tliat corporeal substance, as substance, cannot be divided.

Still, if it slionld be asked : Why are we naturally so much disposed to believe that quantity is divisible ? I answer, b@etr(ise^nantity-4s- -conceived by ns in

p^wo ways-4abstractly,^lmd QnperfiyhiIL^,Wiz,aas snb- iK is; iimno-inpyO: and^S SllbstaPCe^jll^h^ S

,j^^an be conc^v ed: b^^he nn3er s tand big ^ona^^f we think of qiiEnfify as the iniagina'Cidir^resents it to ns — as we constant!}^ and most easily do — it ajopears to ns to be finite, divisible, and composed of parts ; but if we consider it as it is conceived by the understand- ing, and as. it is substance — which it is very diflicnlt to do — we will then discover it to be, as we have suf- ficiently demonstrated, infinite, one, and indivisible. This will he evident enough to those who know how to distinguish between imagination and understand- ing ; and especially if they will keep in mind the fact that matter is everywhere the same, and that there is no distinction of parts in it, except in so far as mat- ter is conceived to be affected in various Avays, where- by it comes to pass that its jiarts are distinguished in respect of modes only, but not in respect of reality. Water, for example, considered as water, is concent- able to be dhdsible, and its parts separable from each other ; but it is not so when it is considered as cor- poreal substance. For in that respect it is neither divisible nor separable. Moreover, Avater, as Avater, is produced and corruptible ; but as substance it is neither producible nor corruptible.

And noAv it seems to me that I liaA^e also replied to the second argument of our opponents, inasmuch as it, too, is based on the assumption that matter, con- sidered as substance, is dhusible and made uii of

PAET T.— OF GOD.

2;;

parts. And tliougli this were not so, I knoAv not why. matter should be considered unworthy of the Divine' nature, seeing that out of God (by ProiTmjdhere^fhii be no substance by which tlie Di;vjne nature can be affecteil. ATTTFiTngs^ I say, are'Tr^ GdZI7^d--4^4b^^ happens, happens by the laws of the inhnite nature' of God alone, and follows (as I shall soon show) from the necessity of God's essence. There can be no reason, therefore, to sa}" that G^>r1 sufferer be- affected by anything ; or thal^^xtended snbstan^ is unworthy of the Divine natureTeveh^tdroug^TT^^ be supposed to be divisible — provided only that it is admitted to be eternal and infinite. But of this mat- ter enough for the present.

PKOP. XVI. — Prom the necessity of the Divim* nature there must follo^v an infinity of things in infinite modes (that is to say, all that can come under an infinite intelli- . gence).

Demonstr. — This proposition must be obvious to whoever will for a moment consider that from the definition of each individual thing the understanding infers a number of properties, which, indeed, neces- sarily follow from the thing defined (that is, they fol- low from the very essence of the thing itself) ; and these properties are so much the more numerous as the reality expressed in the definition is greater — that is, as the essence of the thing defined involves more of reality. ISow, as the Divine nature possesses abso- lutely infinite attributes (by Def. 6), each of which expresses an essence infinite in its kind, therefore, and by the necessity of the Divine nature, there must necessarily follow an infinity of things in infinite

24

Spinoza’s ethics.

inodes (that is to say, all that ran come under infinite intelligence). Q. e. h.

CoPvOLL. 1. — Hence it follows that God is the Effi- cient Cause of all that can come under the infinite in- telligence.

CoKOLL. 2. — It follows, 2d, that God is this Cause itself (jper se) ; not, how^ever, by chance, accident, or contingency (]per accidens ).

Copoll. 3. — And, 3d, that God is absolutely First Cause.

IHIOP. XYII. — God acts by the sole laws of the Divine nature, and is constrained by noth- ing.

Hemonstr. — It is by the sole necessit}^ of the Divine nature, or (which is the same thing) by the sole laws of that nature, that infinities follow absolutely, as we have shown in Proj). 16 ; and we have demonstrated in Proj). 15 that nothing can be or be conceived to be without God, but that all things are in God. Where- fore, there can be nothing out of God whereby God (nn be determined or constrained to act ; conse- quently, God acts by the sole laws of the Divine nature, and without being constrained by anything.

Q. E. D.

CoKOLL. 1. — It follows from this : 1. That no cause inciting or moving God to action exists, either ex- trinsically or intrinsically, beyond the perfection of the Divine nature.

CoiiOLL. 2. — It follows : 2. That God alone is a Free Cause ; for God exists by the sole necessity of the Divine nature (by Prop. 11 and Coroll. 1 to Prop. 14), and, by the sole necessity of the same, acts (by lire-

PAET I— OF GOD.

25

ceding Prop.), and so (by Def. 7) is alone free cause of all. Q. E. D.

ScnoL. — Some tliink God is free canse of all, be- cause tliey believe it possible for God to make the things which follow from the Divine nature — that is, which are in God’ s power — not come to x^ass, or not be x^i’oduced. But this were the same as saying that God might have so ordered it that from the nature of a triangle it should not follow that its three angles are equal to two right angles ; or that from a given canse no effect should follow, which is absurd. For further on, and index)endently of the Prox)osition now in hand, I show that neither understanding nor will X)ertain to the nature of God. I know that many think they can demonstrate that supreme intelligence and free-will belong to the nature of God ; for, say they, we know of nothing more x^crfect that may be ascribed to God than that which is the highest x^er- fection in ourselves. Moreover, although they con- ceive God as acting with the highest intelligence, yet they do not believe that everything has been called into being that is comx3rised in the intelligence of God ; for they think that by such a belief they would be disxtaraging the x^ower of God. Had God created, say thejq everything that was in the Divine mind, there would remain nothing more to create ; which they think rextugnant to God’ s omnix^otence. They have x^referred, therefore, to consider God as indiffer- ent to all things, and creating nothing beyond that which God by a certain absolute will determined to create. But I think I have shown clearly enough i^ride Prox3. 16) that from the sux^reme x^ower or inh- ]iite nature of God there has followed an infinity of things in infinite modes ; in other words, that aii things have fiowed necessarily, and for ever How by

26

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tlie same necessity, and in the same way, as from the nature of the triangle it follows, and will for all eter- nity follow, that its three angles are equal to two right angles. ^Vherefore the omnipotence of God in act Avas from eternity, and eternally will remain in actuality the same. In this Avay, it seems to me, the omnipotence of God is more perfectly stated than in any other. Bnt, really, the opponents of this view (if I am permitted to speak plainly) appear to deny the omnipotence of God. For they are obliged to alloAv that God had knoAAdedge of an infinity of cre- atable things AAdiich, nevertheless, Avere never created ; for, otherwise, if all had been created that infinite un- derstanding or intelligence conceived, omnipotency Avonld have been exhausted and God rendered imper- fect. So that to maintain God perfect, they Avonld be forced at the same time to maintain that God did not do all that aa^s AAdthin the range of infinite poAver ; AAdiich seems more absurd, and more repugnant to the idea of omnipotency of God, than almost anything that can be imagined.

Moreover — and that I may also say something here of the understanding and AAdll AAdiich are commonly ascribed to God — I remark that if under stand iufj and will belong to the eternal essence or nature of God, Ave must then understand by each of these attri- butes something quite diiferent from AAdiat is com- monly understood by them ; for the understanding and Avill AAdiich constitute the essence of God must differ lolo coelo from our human under sUinding and leill^ and could not agree in anything bnt the name — just as the Bog, a sign in the lieaA^ens, and the dog, a barking animal on the earth, agree Avith each other. I demonstrate this as folloAvs : If understanding be- longs to the Bivine nature, it cannot, like our under-

PAIIT I. — OF GOD.

27

standing, be posterior to (as most are pleased to tliink), or simultaneous in nature with the things understood, inasmuch as God, as Causality, is i3ri{)r to all things (by Coroll. 1, Prop. 16) ; but, on the contrary, the formal essence and reality of things are such as they are because they existed objectively such as they are in the understanding of God. Wherefore the understanding of God, in so far as it is conceived as constituting the essence of God, is verily the cause of all things — of their essence as well as of their existence ; a truth which seems to have been perceived by those also who have maintained that the understanding, the will, and the power of God are one and the same thing. If, then, the intel- ligence or understanding of God is the sole cause of things— that is (as we have shown), of tlieir essence as well as of their existence. — it must necessaril3* differ from them in respect both of essence and exist- ence ; for that which is caused, differs from its cause precisely in that which it has from its cause. For example : one man is cause of the existence of an- other man, but not of his essence, for his essence is an eternal verity ; consequently, the two men may agree completely in respect of essence, but in respect of existence they must differ ; and therefore one of them may cease to exist without the existence of the other being also terminated ; but if the essence of one of them could be destroyed or changed, the es- sence of the other would be destroyed or changed also. Wherefore, the thing Vvdiich is the cause both of the essence and existence of an effect must differ from such effect in respect of essence as well as of existence. Now, the intelligence or understanding of God is the cause both of the essence and existence of oui* human understanding ; therefore the intelligence

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of God, conceived as constituting the Divine esseiice, differs from human intelligence both in resjiect of essence and of existence, and can agree with it in no- thing except the name, as we wished to show. Every one will readily see that in regard to the will of God, the demonstration would jiroceed in the same way.*

PKOP. XTIII. — God is the immanent cause of all things, and not transitive cause.

Demoxstu. — Whatever is, is in God, and must be conceived through God (by Proii. 15) ; and so (by Coroll. 1, Prox). 6) all things that are in God are caused by God. This is the first xioint. Again, there can be no substance out of or extraneous to God (by Proxi. 14) ; that is to say (by Def. 3), nothing which exists of itself, out of God. This is the second x^oint. Therefore, God is the immanent, not transitive, cause of all things, q. e. d.

PROP. XIX. — God, or all the attributes of God, are eternal.

Demoxstu. — For God (by Def. 6) is substance, which (by Prox^. 11) exists necessarily — that is to say (by Proxi. 7), existence belongs to the nature of God or Substance, or (which is the same thing) existence folloAvs from the very definition of substance ; so that (by Def. 8) God is eternal. Again, by attributes of God we understand that which (by Def. 4) exx3resses the essence of the Divine Substance ; in other Avords, that AAdiich belongs to substance, and Avhich, I say, must itself involve its attributes. Xoaa", eternity be- longs to the nature of substance (as demonstrated by Proxi. 7). Therefore each attribute of substance must

PART I. — OF OOI).

29

involve eternity, and consequently all its attiibntf^s ai'e eternal, q. k. d.

SoiioL. — The truth of this Ih'oposition also a|)i)ears v(*ry clearly from the way in which I have demon- strated (in Prop. 11) th(i existencr; of (lod. fn that demonstration I have shown tliat the existence as well as the essence of God ai'e (deiTial truths. T have also demf)nstrated the eternity of God in aiiotlu*]* way, in another work { Prirceipu/rvm l*hilosopJt ur, (Uirtes^ Prop. 19, J^ars 1), which it is not Avoi-th while to rex^eat here.

IMIOP. XX. — Tlic existence and essence of (iod jire one and tlie same.

])kmonstj{. — God and all the attributes of God are eternal (by preceding Prop.) ; -that is (by i)(*f. 8), each of the attributes of God expresses existence. The' same attribute of God, therefore, which (by I)ef. 4j ex- presses the eternal essence, also ex])resses at the same S time the eternal existence of God — in other woi-ds,

that which constitutes the essence constitutes at the same time the existence of God ; so that the essence) and existence of God are one and the same. q. i:. n.

CoiiOLL. 1. — Hence it follows : 1. That the existence as well as the essence of God is an eternal truth.

Coroll. 2.— It follows : 2. That God, or all the at- tributes of God, are immutable. For if they wei-e changed in resi)ect of existence, they would also (by ])feceding Prop.) be changed in respect of essence ; that is TO say, from being truths they would be changed to falsehoods, which is absurd.

PROP. XXI. — All that follows from the ab- solute nature of any attribute of God must

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liave existed always and been infinite, or is, by the same attribute, eternal and infinite.

Demoxstr. — Conceiye, if it be possible (should this be denied), something in any attribute of God which follows from the absolute nature of that attribute, and which is finite and has a determinate existence or duration ; for example, the idea of God in the attri- 1)ute of Thought. Xow, thought, supposed as an at- tribute of God, is (by Prop. 11) necessarily infinite by its own nature. But in so far as thought is restricted to the idea of God, it is now presumed to be finite. It cannot, however (by Def. 2), be conceived as finite unless it is determined or -limited by thought itself. It Avill not, however, be limited by thought itself, as constituting the idea of God ; for then, by hypo- thesis, thought is assumed to be finite. It must, there- fore, be limited by thought as not constituting (or not restricted to) the idea of God, which (by Prop. 11) must 3’et and necessarily exist. Thus, therefore, there will be thought Avhich does not constitute the idea of God, and from the nature of which, in so far as it is absolute thought, the idea of God does not necessarily follow (for thought is conceived both as constituting and as not constituting the idea of God), which is against the hypothesis. AYlierefore, if the idea of God in the attribute of thought, or aught in aii}^ other attribute of God (it matters not what, inas- much as the demonstration is universal), follows from the necessity of the absolute nature of the attribute, it must necessarily be infinite. So much for the first point.

Further, that which thus follows from the necessity of the nature of any attribute cannot have a deter- minate duration. If this be denied, suppose some-

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81

tiling in an attribute of God wliicli follows from the necessity of tlie nature of that attribute — for ex- ample, the idea of God in, the attribute of thought ; and let it be further suxiposed that this particular idea has not always existed heretofore, or will not always exist hereafter. As thought, however, is as- sumed to be an attribute of God, it must exist both necessarily and immutably (by Proj). 11 and Coroll. 2, Prop. 20). Wherefore, beyond the limits of the duration of the particular idea of God (for it is as- sumed that it has not always existed, or will not always exist), thought would exist without the idea of God. But this is contrary to the hypothesis ; for thought being given, it is assumed that the idea of God follows necessarily from the nature of thought. Therefore the idea of God in thought, and anything else that follows necessarily from the absolute nature of any attribute of God, can have no determinate duration, but is, by the same attribute, eternal. This is the second point. It is to be noted that .the same is to be affirmed of everything which in any attribute of God follows necessarily from the absolute nature of God. • -■;(

PROP. XXII.^ — Wliatsoever thing folloAvs from any attribute of God, in so far as it is mod- ified by a mode which by that same attri- bute exists both necessarily and infinitely, that thing must also exist both necessarily and infinitely.

Demoxstr. — The demonstration of this Proposition proceeds in the same way as that of the preceding Proposition.

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SPmOZA’S ETHIC?.

PKOP. XXIII. — Every mode wliicli exists liotli necessarily and infinitely must necessarily follow either from the absolute nature of some attribute of Grod, or from some attri- bute modified by a mode which exists both necessarily and infinitely.

Demoxstr. — For mode is in some other thing by whicli It lias to be conceived (b}' Def. 5) — that is (by Prop. 15), it is in God alone, and can be conceived tlirongli God alone. If therefore mode be conceived to exist necessarily and to be infinite, this in either case must necessaril}^ be perceived through some attribute of God, in so far as that attribute itself is conceived to express infinity and necessity of existence, or (which is the Same thing by Def. 8) eternity ; in other words (by Def. 6 and Prop. 19), in so far as it is considered absolute!}". A mode therefore Avhich exists both necessarily and infinitel}^ must follow from the absolute nature of some attribute of God ; and this either immediately (vide Prop. 21) or medi- ately through some modification which itself follows from the absolute nature of that attribute — that is (by preceding Prop.), Avhich exists both necessarily and infinitel}^ Q. e. d.

PKOP. XXIV. — The essence of things iiroduced by God does not involve existence.

DemoxstPv. — This is evident from Def. 1. For a thing the nature of wliich (considered in itself) in- volves existence, is cause of itself, and exists by the sole necessity of its nature.

ConoLL. — It follows from this that God is not only the cause by which things begin to exist, but also the

PAKT I. — OF GOD.

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cause by wliicli they continue in existence ; or (to nse a Scholastic term) Gfod is causa ess end t — the cause of the being or existence of things. For whether things exist or do not exist, when we consider their essence and ascertain that it involves neither existence nor duration, we then conclude that their essence cannot be the cause either of their existence or of their dura- tion, but that only God, to whose nature alone ex- istence belongs, can be the cause (by Coroll. 1, Prop. 14).

PROP. XXV. — God is not only the efficient cause of the existence of things, but also of their essence.

Demoxstr. — If you deny that God is the cause of the essence of things, then (by Ax. 4) the essence of things can be conceived without. God ; but this (by Prop. 15) is absurd. God, therefore, is the cause of the essence of things, q. e. d.

Sciio'l. — This Proposition clearly follows from Prop. 16— by which, the Divine nature being assumed, it follows that the essence as well as the existence of things must necessarily be concluded from it ; and I may say, in a word, that in the same sense in which God is called self-cause^ it is also to be declared that God is the cause of all things, which will appear still more clearly by the following Corollary :

Coroll. — Particular or individual things are noth- ing more than affections of the attributes of God, or modes by which the attributes of God are ex^^ressed in certain and determinate ways. This is demonstrated by Prop. 15 and Def. 5.

PROP. XXVI. — A thing that is determined to l)erform some action has necessarily been

3

34

SPIXOZxV’s ETHICS.

SO determined by God ; and that wliicli is not determined by God cannot determine itself to act.

Demoxstr. — That by which things are said to be determined to some action is necessarily something positive (as is self-evident) ; and so by the necessity of the Divine nature God is the efficient cause both of the existence and essence of the action (by Props. 25 and 16). This is the first point. IS'ow, the second is a manifest consequence of the first. For if a thing which is not determined by God to act conld deter- mine itself, the first part of this demonstration would he false ; but this, as we have shown, is absurd.

Q. E. D.

PEOP. XXYII. — A thing determined^ by God to some action cannot render itself unde- termined.

Demoxstr. — This Proposition is manifest by Ax- iom 3.

PEOP. XXYIII. — The individual thing that is finite and has a determinate existence can- not be determined to exist or to act unless it be determined to exist and to act by an- other cause which is also finite and pos- sessed of a determinate existence ; and this cause, again, cannot exist or be determined to act except by another cause which is also finite and has a determinate existence ; and so on to infinity.

Demoxstr. — Whatever is determined to existence

PART I. — OF GOD.

35

and action is so determined by God (by Pro^D. 26, and Coroll. Prop. 2-^). But that which is tinite and has a determinate existence could not be joroduced by the absolute nature of any attribute of God ; for what- ever follows from the absolute nature of any attri- bute of God is infinite and eternal (by Prop. 21). It must therefore follow from God or some attribute of God considered as affected in some particular way ; for besides substance and its modes there is no- thing (by Ax. 1 and Defs. 3 and 5), and modes (by Coroll. Prop. 25) are only affections of the attributes of God. But neither could it follow from God or an attribute of God in so far as affected by a modifica- tion that is eternal and infinite (by Prop. 22). There- fore it must follow or be defbrmined to existence and action by God or an attribute of God in so far as it is affected by a modification that is finite and has a determinate existence. This is the first point. Fur- ther, this cause or this mode, again (for the same reasons as in the first part of this demonstration), must also be determined by anotlier which is also finite and has a determinate existence ; and this last, again, by yet another (for the same reason) ; and so on to infinity. Q. e. d.

SciiOL. — As some things must have been produced immediately by God — to wit, those which follow ne- cessarily from God’s absolute nature — and from these immediate or primary things those mediately which yet can neither be nor be conceived to be without God, it therefore follows : 1st, that God is the abso- lute proximate cause of these things immediately produced, but not, however, in their kinds, as is sometimes said ; for an effect of God without its cause can neither be nor be conceived to be (by Prop. 15, and Coroll. Prop. 24). It follows : 2d, that God

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(Cannot properly be called tlie remote cause of indi- vidual tilings ; unless, perchance, for the purpose of distinguishing such things from those produced im- mediately by, or rather which follow from, the abso- lute nature of God. For by remote cause we under- stand such a cause as is in no way conjoined to its etfect. But all things that be are in God, and depend on God in such a manner that they cannot be nor be conceived to be without God.

PEOP. XXIX. — In the nature of things there is nothing contingent, but all things are de- termined by the necessity of the Divine nature to exist and to act in a certain manner.

Demoxste. — 'Whatever is, is in God (by Prop. 15). But God cannot be spoken of as a contingent thing, for God (by Prop. 11) exists necessarily, not contin- gently. Further, the modes of the Divine nature, for the same reason, also follow necessarily, not con- tingently (by Prop. 16) ; and this whether they be considered as determined to action by the Divine nature absolutely (by Prop. 21), or as determined (mediatel}') by some certain mode of the Divine na- ture (by Prop. 27). Moreover, God is not only the cause of these modes as they exist simply (by Coroll. Prop. 24), but also as they are considered to be deter- mined to any action (by Prop. 26). Because (by same Prop.) if they are not determined by God, it is im- possible, not contingent, that they should be deter- mined by themselves ; and on the contrary (by Prop. 27), if they are determined by God, it is impossible, not contingent, that they should render themselves undetermined.

PART I. — OF GOD.

37

Wherefore all things are determined by the neces- sity of the Divine nature not only to exist, but also to exist and to act in a certain manner, and there is nothing contingent. Q. e. d.

SciiOL. — Before proceeding further, I here Avish to explain, or rather to state, Avhat is to be understood by Natura natitrans and Natura naturata. From all that has been previously said, I think it aauII ap- pear that by the expression natura naturans is to be understood that loh ichis in itself and is conceived by itself^ or such attributes of substance as express an eternal and infinite essence ; in other Avords (by Coroll. 1, ProjE 14, and Coroll. 2, Prop. 16), God, considered as free cause of cdl that is. By natura naturata^ on the contrary, I understand all that follows f rom the necessity of the nature of God., or from any of the attributes of God ; in other Avords, all the modes of the attributes of God, considered as things that are in God^ and AAdiich Avithout God can neither be nor be conceiAmd to be.

PROP. XXX. — Understanding, or intellection, AAdietlier finite or infinite in act, must com prebend the attributes of God and the af- fections of God, and nothing else.

Deaioxstr. — A true idea must agree Avith its ideate (b}^ Ax. 6) ; that is to say (as is obvious), that Avliich is contained objectively in the understanding must necessarily exist in nature. But in nature (by Coroll. 1, Prop. 14) there is only one substance — to Avit, God ; and no affections other than those Avhich are in God (by Prop. 15), and AAdiich (by same Prop.) can neither be nor be conceded to be Avithout God. Under- standing, therefore, AAdiether finite or infinite in act.

38

spixoza’s ethics.

must compreliend tlie attributes and tlie affections of (xod, and nothing else. Q. e. d.

PE OP. XXXI. — Tlie understanding in act, Avlietlier it be finite or infinite, as also will, desire, love, etc., iiinst be referred to the natiira naturata^ and not to the natiira na- turans.

Pe^iois’Str. — For by understanding we (evidently) do not mean absolute thought, but only a certain mode of thought which differs from other modes, such as desire, love, etc., and so (by Def. 5) it must 1)0 conceived by absolute thought ; that is (by Prop. 15 and Def. 6), it must be conceived by some attribute of Clod which expresses the eternal and infinite essence of thought, without which it could neither be nor be conceived to be. Understanding, therefore (by Schol. Prop. 29), as also the other modes of thought, must be referred to the natura naturata^ and not to the natiira natiirans. q. e. d.

SciioL. — The reason why I speak here of under- standing in act is not because I concede that there is any potential understanding (^.e., not in act), but be- cause I desire to avoid all confusion, and not to speak of anything but that which we most clearly compre- liend, or of the act of understanding itself, than which there is nothing more clearly perceived by us. For we can understand nothing that does not conduce to a more perfect knowledge of the act of understanding, or intellection .

X^EOP. XXXII. — Will cannot be called a free caiise^ but only a necessary cause.

Demoxstr. — like understanding^ is but a

PAKT I. — OF GOD.

39

certain mode of tlionglit. Consequently (by Prop. 28), a particular volition cannot exist or be determined to action unless it be determined by a cause, this again by another, and so on to infinity. But if an infinite will be supposed, it must needs be deter- mined to exist and to act by God, not, indeed, by God considered as absolutely infinite substance, but as having an attribute that expresses the infinite and eternal essence of thought (by Prop. 23). In what- ever way, therefore, will is conceived, whether as finite or as infinite, it requires a cause which determines it both to existence and action ; and consequently (by Def. 7) icill cannot be called a free cause^ but only a necessary or constrained cause, q. e. d.

Coroll. — Hence it follows : 1. That God does not act by virtue of free will.

Coroll. — It follows; 2. will understand-

ing have the same relation to the nature of God as motion and rest, and, speaking absolutely, as all natural things have which (by Prop. 29) are deter- mined by God to exist and to act in certain ways. For will, like everything else, requires a cause to de termine it to exist and to act in a certain manner. And although from a given will or understanding an infinity of things followed, yet this could with no more propriety be said to follow because God acted by virtue of free will, than that those things which follow from motion and rest (for an infinity of things follow from these also) can be said to follow from the freedom of motion and rest. Wherefore, loill no more pertains to the nature of God than other natural things do, but stands related to it in the same way as do motion and rest, and all other things which we have shown to follow from the necessity of the Divine

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spixoza’s ethics.

nature, whereby they are determined to exist and to act in certain ways.

PEOP. XXXIII. — Things could have been xn-o- dnced by God in no other way or order than as they have been x)rodnced.

De:\[OXSTPv. — All things have follow^ed necessarily from the nature of God (by Proj). 16), and it is by the necessity of God’ s nature that they are determined to exist and to act in certain ways (b}^ Prop. 29). If, therefore, things could have been of another nature than they are, or been determined to act in some other way than they do, the order of nature would have been different from what it is, and the nature of God also would have been different ; and hence (by Prop. 11) another, or other Divine natures must also have existed, and consequently there might then have been two or more gods, which (by Coroll. 1, Prop. 14) is absurd. AYlierefore things could have been x)roduced in no other way, nor in any other order, etc. q. e. n.

SciiOL. 1. — In order now that I may show, as clearly as in the light of noon-day, that there is absolutely nothing in things by reason of which they could be called contingent, I wish to explain here, in a few' words, what we are to understand by contingent ; first, however, let me explain what is to be under- stood by necessary and impossible. A thing is said to be necessary either by reason of its essence or of its cause. For the existence of a thing follows neces- sarily either from its essence and definition, or from a given efficient cause. Again, a thing is said to be impossible either because its essence or definition in- volves a contradiction, or because no external deter-

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milling cause can be assigned for tlie production of such a thing. But a thing is called contingent for no other reason except in resiiect of some defect in oar knowledge. For the thing in whose essence we do not know that contradiction is involved, or in the essence of which we know certainly that no contra- diction is involved, and yet of the existence of which we can affirm nothing with certainty — because the order of causes is hidden from us — such thing can never appear to us either as necessary or as impos- sible ; and on that account we sx^eak of it as contin- gent or x)Ossible.

SciiOL. 2. — From what precedes it clearly follows that things were x)roduced by God with the highest jierfection, inasmuch as they followed necessarily from the most xierfect of all natures. Xor does this necessity argue any imxierfection in God ; for it is God’s very x^erfection that forces us to affirm this necessity. For, indeed, if this were not so, it would clearly follow (in the way we have just shown) that God is not the sovereignly perfect Being. For truh% if things had been x^i’oduced in another way, another nature must then be ascribed to God, different from that which reflection compels us to ascribe to the su- Xireniely perfect Being. I do not doubt, however, that many will scout this view as being decidedly absurd, and will not take the trouble to examine and X^onder it ; and for no other reason than that they have been in the habit of ascribing to God a kind of freedom very different from that absolute icill or freedom which we have spoken of (Def. 6). But neither do I doubt that if they would onl}^ meditate uxDon the matter and carefully consider it, together with our series of demonstrations, they would at length come to regard such freedom as they are wont

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to ascribe to Grod as not only nugatory, but would even wholly reject it as a great obstacle in the path of science.

Xor is there any reason why I should here repeat Avhat I have said in the Scholium to the 17th Propo- sition ; still, in consideration of the objectors, I will show that even although it were conceded that Will belongs to the essence of God, it would nevertheless follow from the Divine perfection that things could have been created in no other way nor in any other order than they have been created by God. This is easily shown if we first consider that which the objec- tors themselves concede — namely, that it depends upon the will and decree of God alone that every individual thing is what it is ; for otherwise God would not be the cause of all things ; — further, that all the decrees of God have been unalterably estab- lished by God from all eternity ; for to hold other- wise would be to presume imperfection and incon- stancy in God. Now, as in eternity there is no when, nor before, nor after, hence, from the sole perfection of God, it follows that God never decreed and never could have decreed anything else than that which was decreed ; in other words, God w^as not anterior to God’s decrees, and could not be without them. But here it may be said that although it should be assumed that God could have made things of another nature, or had from eternity decreed another nature and another order of things, jet no imperfection in God would follow from this. Did they say this, however, then they must at the same time admit that the decrees of God might be changed. For if God could have decreed another nature and a different order of nature than was actually decreed — that is to say, if God could have conceived and willed nature

PAET I. — OF GOD.

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otherwise than as it is — God would necessarily have had a different understanding and a different will from what God did actually have. And if it be per- missible to ascribe to God another understanding and another will without a corresponding change of es- sence and perfection, what reason is there that the decrees of God in respect of created things should not again and again be changed, and yet God remain as perfect as ever? For God’s understanding and will in respect of created things and their order, in whatever way conceived, continue to bear the same relation in respect of God’s essence and perfection. Further, all the Philosophers whose writings I have seen concede that the understanding of God is not in power, but in act ; and as all of them also concede that God’s understanding and will are not to be dis- tinguished from God’s essence, it therefore follows from this that, had God possessed a different under- standing in act and a different will, God would also necessarily have had a different essence ; and conse- quently (as first concluded), if things had been x3ro- duced by God otherwise than they are, then the understanding and the will — i.e. (as conceded), the essence of God — would have been other than it is, wdiich is absurd.

Since, therefore, things could have been produced by God in no other way and in no other order — and that this is true follows from the transcendent X3er- fection of God — there is really no sound reason whereby we could be induced to believe that God has not willed to create all things which were or are in the Divine mind, with the same perfections as those wherewith they were conceived. And if it be said that there is neither perfection nor imperfection in things, but that the qualities or proiDerties by

44

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reason of which they are said to be perfect or imper- fect, good or bad, depend solely upon the will of Grod — so that, if God had so willed, that which is now perfection in them might have been the greatest im- perfection, and ince versa — what else, indeed, were this blit openly to affirm that God, who necessarily understands that which the Divine mind wills, might by that will make the things that were understood in a different wa}^ than that in which they were under- stood ? — which (as I have just shown) is grossly ab- surd. Wherefore the arguments of such reasoners can be turned against themselves in this way : All things depend upon the power of God. That a thing should be other than it is, it w^ere necessary that the will of God should also be other than it is. But the wall of God cannot be other than it is (as we have very plainly shown from the perfection of God) ; nothing, therefore, could be other than it is.

I own that they who hold to the opinion which subjects all to a certain indifferent will of God, and which makes everything to depend upon God’s good pleasure, stray less from the truth than do those who maintain that God has acted in every case with a view to what is good. For these last seem, indeed, to place outside of God something that does not de- pend on God, blit which in acting God refers to, as if it were a pattern, or particular end or purpose to be accomplished. IS^ow, this is nothing else than to sub- ject God to fate — than wdiich nothing can be more absurd ; for we have shown that God is the first, sole, and free cause of the essence as well as of the existence of all things. But we shall waste no more time in refuting these absurdities.

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PEOP. XXXIV.— The power of God is the very essence of God.

Demoa^str. — For it follows from the sole necessity of the Divine essence that God is self-caused {causa ska) (by Prop. 11), and cause of all things (by Prop.

and its Coroll.) Wherefore tlie power of God, whereby God and all things are and act, is the very essence of God. Q. e. d.

PEOP. XXXV. — Whatever we conceive to he in the power of God is so necessarily.

Demoxstr. — For whatever is in the power of God must (by preceding Prop.) be com^^rised in God’s essence and follow necessarily therefrom ; conse- (piently, it is so necessarily, q. e. d.

PEOP. XXXVI. — Xothing exists from the na- ture of which some effect does not follow.

Dewoxstr. — Whatever exists expresses the natnre or essence of God in a certain and determinate way (by Coroll. Prop. 25) ; that is to say (by Prop. 34), whatever exists expresses in a certain determinate way the power of God wliich is the cause of all things. Therefore (by Prop. 16) nothing exists from which some effect does not follow, q. e. d.

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APPENDIX.

Ix the foregoing xDages I liave sought to explain the nature and properties of God — as, that God ex- ists necessarily ; that God is One ; that by the sole necessity of God’ s nature God is and acts ; that God is the Free Cause of all things, and how God is so ; that all things are in God, and so depend on God that without God they could neither be nor be con- ceived to be ; and, lastly, that all things were prede- termined by God, not, indeed, by virtue of God’s free will or God’s absolute good pleasure, but by virtue of the absolute nature or infinite power of God. I have, moreover, whenever opportunity offered, sought to remove prejudices which might prevent my demon- strations from being accepted ; but as not a few such prejudices remain, and have prevented and still do powerfully prevent men from comprehending the views of the concatenation of things as I have ex- plained them, I have thought it would not be an use- less labor to summon these prejudices before the bar of reason and examine them. And inasmuch as all of these prejudices of which I shall speak here re- ceive their support from and are dependent upon this single one — namely, that men commonly suppose that all natural things act, like themselves, for an end, and that God also directs all things with a cer- tain and determined end in view (for, say they, God made all things for man, and made man that he might worship God) — I shall therefore begin with this one, inquiring first into the cause why most men ac- quiesce in this prejudice, and why all seem by nature

PAKT I. — OF GOD.

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so much disposed to embrace it. I shall afterwards show how utterly unfounded this prejudice is ; and, lastly, how from it have arisen the prejudices or no- tions concerning Good and Evil, Merit and Demerit or Sin, Praise and Blame, Order and Confusion, Beauty and Ugliness, and others of the kind.

This is not the proper place to deduce these preju- dices from the constitution of the human mind or soul. It will suffice for the present if I take as a basis for my inquiry that which must be admitted In' all — namely, this : that all men are born ignorant of the causes ofTtlmgs, and that all have and are con- scious of a desire which leads them to seek after that which is useful to themselves. From this it follows : First, that men believe they are free because they are conscious of their volitions and desires, and ignorant of the causes which dispose them- to desire and to will, not thinking of these even in their dreams. Secondly, that men believe all things to act to an end — namely, to something useful which they desire. Hence it is that they always seek to know only the final causes of acts or things done ; and as soon as they know or have heard of these they rest satisfied, because they have no incentive for farther doubt or inquiry. If, however, they can obtain no information of these causes from others, nothing remains for them but to turn to themselves, and reflect on the ends or purposes by which, under similar circumstances, their own actions have usually been determined ; and so they necessarily judge of the views or purposes of others by their own. Moreover, as men find both in themselves and out of themselves many means Avhich enable them to obtain useful things and greatly con- duce to their comfort and convenience — as, for in- stance, eyes to see, teeth to chew, herbs and animals

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for food, the sea to nourish fishes, the sun to give light and warmth, etc. — it comes to pass that they consider all natural things as means intended to be useful to themselves ; and knowing, besides, that they liave discovered but not prepared these means them- selves, they think they have reason for believing that some other being exists who has prepared all these means for their use. For after having considered things as means, men could not believe that these created themselves, but must conclude that there was some director or several directors of nature, endowed with hum an freedom, who have cared for all things and made all for man’s use. And inasmuch as they had never heard aught of this being or these beings, they must judge of him or them by themselves, and have hence concluded that God or the Gods directed all things for the benefit and use of mankind, in order to attach men to themselves and be held by them in the highest honor ; and so it has come to pass that every one, according to his own character or disposi- tion, has devised a different way of honoring God, in the hope that God would love him above others and make all nature serve for the gratification of his blind desires and insatiable covetousness. And in this way, too, has this prejudice been turned into sni^er- stition and struck its roots deep into the souls of men, producing this universal eagerness of all to know and explain the final causes of things. But whilst striving to show that nature does nothing in vain (/.e., nothing which is not useful for man), they seem only to have shown that nature, gods, and men were alike deprived of reason. Look, I pray yon, at what has come of it ! Among so many conveniences of nature not a few inconveniences are found, such as tempests, earthquakes, diseases, etc., and these are

PAirr L — OF GOD.

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Hupposecl to proceed from the anger of the gods, provoked by the injustice committed by mankind, or by their neglect to fulfil the duties of worshijD ; and althongli daily experience proclaims, and shows b}' endless examples, that the blessings and the ills of life alike befall the pious and the impious without distinction, yet that has not divested them of this inveterate prejudice. For it is much easier for men to put all this in the category of unknown things and undiscovered uses, and so retain their i3resent natural state of ignorance, than to tear down the whole fabri(.* of their superstition and build anew on the founda- tion of truth. Men have held it to be certain that the 'judgments of the gods far surpassed human com- prehension— a conclnsion that would have sufficed to hide the truth from mankind for ever, were it not that the mathematics, which deal not with ends or pur- poses, but are only concerned with the essences and properties of figures, presented to them another rule or standard for the discovery of truth. And besides the mathematics other causes might also be assigned (which it would be superfinons to mention here) whereby men would have been led to meditate upon their vulgar i^rejudices, and been guided to a true knowledge of things.

These explanations are sufficient for the first preju- dice which I promised to examine. And now it will be no great task to show that nature has no prescribed ends in its operations, and that all final' causes are nothing more than human'fictions. I believe, indeed, that this is already sufficiently established by our ex- planation of the grounds and reasons whence this prejudice derives its origin, as well as by our Propo- sition 16 and the Corollary of Proposition 32, to say nothing of other demonstrations throughout the whole 4

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spixoza's ethics.

of this Part, hy which I have shown that all things in nature proceed by a certain eternal necessity, and are the results of a supreme perfection. I will add this, hoAvever : that the doctrine of final causes is wholly subA'ersive of the hiAvs of nature. For that which is truly cause it regards as effect^ and vice cersa ; further, that Avhich lorior in nature it makes posterior ; and, finally, that which is the highest and most perfect it makes the most imperfect. For (pass- ing by the first tAvo points as manifest of themselves) it is shoAAui by Propositions 21, 22, and 23 that the most perfect effect is that AAdiich is produced immedi- ately from God, and that is less perfect AAdiich re- cpiires many intermediate causes to produce it. Xoaa', if the things that are produced b}^ God immediately Avere produced in order to attain an end or purj)ose proposed by God, it AA'ould folloAV that the last cause, for AAdiich all prior causes Avere instituted, Avould necessarily be the most excellent of all. But such a doctrine destroys the perfection of God ; for if God acts for an end, then God necessarily desires some- thing Avliich God AAmnts and is Avithoiit. And although theologians and metaphysicians distinguish betAveen an end desired and the end assimilated to the desire, they nevertheless oavii that all things Avere created by and for God because God desired them, and not created for the things themselves ; inasmuch as before creation nothing could be assigned for the act of God but the Avill or desire of God ; and so are they neces- sarily forced to admit that God AA'as Avithout and Avanted those things AAdiich God Avilled and prepared means for — a conclusion Avhicli seems perfectly clear.

Xor should AA^e forget to mention that the sectators of this doctrine, AAdio have desired to sIioav their in- genuity in assigning final causes of things, liaA’e had

recourse to a new style of argumentation— namely, ])y reductions, not to the impossible or absurd, but to ignorance or the nnknown ; Avhich shows that tliere Avas no other AAmy left to them of supporting this doc- trine. For example : if a stone falls from the to}) of a liouse on the head of a passer-by and kills him, they AAull demonstrate, in their that the stone

fell expressly to kill that man. For if it did not fall by the Avill of Cxod, and for this end, Avhy should so many concurring circumstances (for A^ery many do often concur in such a case) liaA^e led to the eA^ent ( You ansAA^er, perhaps, that the eA^ent happened be- cause of the high Avind that loosened the stone, and because the man AAms passing there at the instant it fell. But fortliAAdth they aa ill press 3^011 aa ith ques- tions : Why did the AAund bloAA^ so strongly at that time ? and AA’hy AA^as the man passing there jirecisely at the moment the stone fell ? If 3^011 ansAA^er, again, that the AA'ind bleAA^ because of a distant approaching tempest, AAdiich Avas indicated 113" the agitation of the sea on the ji receding da3^, although the AAxather Avas then fine ; and that the man AA^as passing there be- cause he had been inAuted and aa^s on his AAm3^ house of a friend, the3^ Avill again ask — for there is no end to their questions — Why did the tempest arise at a distance on the day before ? and AAdi3^ aaTcS the man invited at that particular time ? And so the}" go on, further and further, inquiring for one cause after another, until at last the3^ seek refuge in the Avill of Clod — the as3dum of ignorance. So also Avhen they consider the structure of the human bod3^ the3" are amazed ; and as the}^ are ignorant of the cause of so much art, the}" conclude that it has been fabricated b}" no mechanical, but by some divine or supernatural, art, AAdiich has so constructed it that

r>2 Spinoza's ethics.

each particular part perfoiius its own function witli- out interfering witli or being injurious to any other ])art. And thus it is that he who inquires into tbe true causes of alleged miracles, and Avho strives to understand natural things like a ])hilosopher, instead of blindly wondering at them like a simjdeton, is forthwith held to be an intidel and impious person, and is so proclaimed by those whom the vulgar bow down before as the inteiq:>reters of nature and of God. For they well know, indeed, that ignorance once dis- pelled astonishment ceases, and that the only means they have of enforcing their arguments and maintain- ing their authority will disappear. But I leave this, and proceed to the, examination of what constitutes a i;hird subject of inquiry.

After men had persuaded themselves that every- tliing in nature was made for them, they of course judged those things to be the principal or most im- portant ones which they found the most useful to themselves ; and they esteemed as the most excellent of all those by which they were the most agreeably affected. Whence it has come to pass that they have formed those prejudices or notions whereby they ex- plain natural things, designating them as Good, Bad, Orderly, Confused, Hot, Cold, Beautiful, Ugly, etc. ; and inasmuch as they believe themselves to be free, lienee, too, have arisen those other notions of Praise and Blame, and of Merit and Sin. Of these last I shall speak further on, when I come to treat of iiuman nature ; as to the former, however, I shah liere explain very briefly what is to be understood b}^ them. Whatever conduces to the health and well- }>eing of man and to the worship of God, is called Good ; and whatever is opposed to these is called Bad. And as they vho do not understand the nature

PAKT T. — OF GOD.

of tilings can affirm nothing of them, but only ima- gine them and take their imagination for understand- ing, they firmly believe that there is an Order in things, althongh they are ignorant both of things ami of their own nature. For if things are so disj^osed or arranged that when represented to iis by our senses they are easily imagined, and consequently easily remembered, we say that they are well ordered ; but if the contrary is the case, we say that they are badly ordered or confused. And since those things that are readily imagined are agreeable to us beyond ethers, therefore do we prefer order to confusion, as if order in nature was something independent of our imagina- tion. It is said, further, that God “ created all things in order,” and in this way isdhe imagination of man un- consciously ascribed to God — unless, indeed, it should be maintained that God, provident of human imagi- nation, had disposed all things in such a way as they might be most easily imagined by man ; nor, perhaps, would they who judged in this wise be hindered by, or find any great difficulty in the fact that almost an infinity of things are met with which far surpass our imagination, and many which, by reason of its weak- ness, confound it. But this is enough on this topic.

As to the other notions — viz., hot and cold, beauty and ugliness, etc. — they are nothing more than modes of imagining, whereby the imagination is diversely affected, but which are esteemed by the ignorant as among the principal attrilmtes of things, because, as already said, they believe that all things were made for man ; and according as they are themselves affected by them do they call each thing good or bad, wholesome, or noxious and corrupt.

For example : if the impressions made on the nerves ])y the objects whicli are represented to us througli

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the eye are agreeable or cause us pleasure, these ob- jects are said to be beautiful ; if, on the contrary, the impressions they make are disagreeable, these objects are then said to be ugly or deformed. It is thus also that impressions received by the senses through the nerves of the nose are called fragrant or fetid ; and those through the nerves of the tongue are spoken of as bitter or sweet, savory or insipid, etc. Impres- sions made on the nerves of touch are hardness or softness, roughness or smoothness, etc.; and, lastly, those made on the ear are called sound, noise, or harmony — and so much are men enraptured with harmony that they have believed that the gods also delighted in it ; nor have philosoiihers been wanting who have persuaded themselves that the movements of the celestial spheres made harmony. Xow all this shows suthciently that every one judges of tilings by the state or disposition of his brain, or rather takes the affections of his imagination for real things. Wherefore it is not wonderful (and this we say in passing) that so many controversies have arisen among men which have ended in scepticism. For though the bodies of men agree with one another in many respects, still they differ in many more ; so that what appears good to one seems Itad to another ; what is loell-ordered for this one is conf used for that one ; and what is agreeable to one is disagreeable to another ; and so with many other things which I omit to speak of here because this is not a jiroper place to treat of them ex professo^ and also because they must be familiar to all. Every one, indeed, has heard the say- ings, ‘‘so many men, so many minds,'’ “so many palates, so many tastes,” — evidencing that discrimina- tions abound between the senses of men, no less than between their minds. These sayings, indeed, very

PART I. — OF GOD.

55

plainly indicate that men judge of things according to the disposition of their brains, and imagine rather than understand them. For if men truly understood things as the mathematics show them to be, the demonstrations that have been given throughout this Part of my Philosophy, though they might not please, would at least convince.

AV e see, therefore, that all the reasons which the vulgar are wont to make use of to explain nature are only modes of imagining, — that they do not indi- cate the nature of things, but merely the constitu- tion of the imagination ; and as these modes are de- signated by names, as if they were entities existing beyond or out of the imagination, I call them entities of the imagination — not of the reason — and so can easily repel all the arguments derived from such notions that are advanced against our views. Many indeed are accustomed to argue in this way : if all things have followed from the necessity of the su- premely perfect nature of God, why is it that so many imperfections appear in nature ? — for instance, the corruption that causes fetor, the ugliness or deformity that excites disgust, the confusion, the evil, the sin, etc., we meet with so often? But, as I have said, it is easy to confute such arguments ; for the perfection of things is to be estimated by their own nature and power alone ; nor is a thing more or less perfect because it delights or offends the senses of man, or because it is conducive to or incompatible with the wants of human nature. And to those who ask, AVhy did not God so create all mankind that they would be governed solely by reason ? I make no other reply than this : That it was not because God lacked material for the creation of all things, from the highest to the lowest grade of iDerfection ; or, to

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speak more proiierly, it was not because tlie laws of (rod’s nature were ]iot ample enough to suffice for the production of all things that could be conceived by an Infinite Intelligence — as I have demonstrated in the 16th Proposition.

These are the prejudices Avhich I undertook to ex- amine and discuss here. If there are still others of the same nature, a little refiection will be sufficient to expose and correct them.

END OF THE FIUST PART.

ETHICS

SECOND PART.

OF thp: xatuke axo origix of

THF] MIXD OR SOUL.*

I NOW proceed to explain tliing*s that must neces- sarily follow from the Essence of God, the Eternal and Infinite Being*. I do not say everything (for it lias been demonstrated by Proposition 10, Part I., that from this Being an infinity of things in infinite modes must follow), but those things only that may lead ns, as it were by the fiand, to a knowledge of the human soul and of that wherein man’s true liappiness consists.

DEFixmoxs.

I. By body I understand a mode which in a certain determinate way expresses tlie essence of God, in so far considered as God is extended being. {Vide Coroll, to Prop. 25, Part I.f )

* The words Soul and Mind are used synonymously throughout the translation.

f AVhen reference is made to Propositions, etc., unless the particular Part to which they belong is indicated, it is always to be understood that they belong to the Part in hand. This rule will be observed throughout. — Tr.

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spixoza’s ethics.

II. To the essence of a particuUir thing I say tliat pertains which, being given, the tiling necessarily exists ; and, being taken away, the thing necessarily ceases to be. In other words, the essence of a thing is that without which the thing, and, Tice Tersely that which without the thing — can neither be nor be conceived to be.

III. By idea I understand a conception of the sonl, which the soul forms because it is a thinking being.

Explanation . — I say a conception rather than a per- ception^ because the word perception seems to im])ly that the soul is passively affected by an object, whilst conception appears to express an action of the soul.

IV. By an adequate idea I understand an idea which, in so far as it is considered in itself without relation to its object, possesses all the properties and intrinsic denominations of a true idea.

Explan. — I say irdrlnslc in order to exclude from an idea that which is extrinsic^ viz., the agreement of the idea with its ideate.

V. Duration is indetinitely continued existence.

Explan. — I say because it can

in no wise be determined by the proper nature of the thing existing, nor yet by its efficient cause which necessarily establishes but does not destroy the existence of the thing.

YI. By reality and perfection I understand one and the same thing.

YII. — By IndlTldual things I understand things that are finite and have a determinate existence. But if several individual things so concur in pro- v/ ducing one act that all of them together are the cause

PART II. — OF THE 3IIXD OR SOUL.

59

of one single effect, then in so far do I consider all of them as constituting one individual thing.

AXIOMS.

I. Tlie essence of man does not involve necessary existence ; in other words, it might as well liapx)en in the order of nature that this or that man existed as that he did not exist.

II. Man thinks.

III. Modes of thought, such as love, desire, and the other affections or passions of the soul — by what- ever names they may be designated — do not occur in an individual unless ideas of the things loved, de- sired, etc., also occur in that same individual. But an idea may occur without any other mode of thought being present.

IV. We are conscious that a particular body may be affected in many ways.

V. AVe are not conscious of nor do we perceive any other individual things than bodies and modes of thought.

(For Postulates see after Proposition 13.)

PKOPOSITIOXS.

PROP. I. — Thoiiglit is an attribute of God, or God is Thinking Being.

Demoxstr.— Individual thoughts, or this and tliaf thought, are modes which express the nature cf Clod in a certain and determinate manner (by Coroll, to Prop. 25, Part I.) To God therefore belongs an attribute the concept of which involves all individual

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SPINOZA'S ETHICS.

or particular tliouglits, and by wliicli all are conceived (by Def. d, Part L) Tliouglit, consequently, is one of the infinite attributes of God which expresses God’s infinite and eternal essence {Dide Def. 6, Part T. ) ; in other words, God is a thinking being, (y E. I).

ScTioL. — The above proiDosition is also evident by this — that we can conceive an infinite thinking being. For the more a thinking being can think, the inort^ of reality or perfection do we conceive it to have. Consequently, a being capable of thinking an infinity of things in infinite modes is necessarily infinite in virtue of its thought. AVhen thus taking into con- sideration thought only we conceive an infinite being, thought is necessarily one of the infinite attributes of God, as we have said. (By Defs. 4 and 6, Part I.)

PROP. 11. — Extension is an attribute of Cfod, or God is Extended Being.

Demoxstr. — Tlie demonstration of this proposition proceeds in the same way as the preceding one.

i^ROP. III. — There is necessarily in God the idea of God’s own essence, as well as of all things that necessarily follow from it.

DiL^roxsTi:. — For God (by Prop. 1) thiidvs an in- finity of things in infinite modes, or (what comes to the same thing by Proi:>. 16, Part I.) can form an idea of God's own essence and of all that necessarily follows from it. Xoav all that is in the poAver of God is necessary (by Prop. 3.o, Part I.) ; therefore such an idea necessarily exists, and (by Prop, lo, Part I.) it can exist noAvhere save in God. q. e. d.

SenoL, — By power of G^'d the vulgar understand

PAirr 1 1. — OF THE MIXD OP SOUL.

GJ

the free will and government of God over all things, which are therefore commonly considered as contin- gent. For they say that God has power to destroy and annihilate all things; and this power of God is very often compared to that of an earthly potentate. Blit we have refuted this notion in the Corollaries 1 and 2 to Prop. 32, Part I., and have shown in Prop. 10, Part I., that God acts by the same necessity as that whereby God understands; that is to sa3^ as from the necessity of the Divine iS'atnre it follows that God understands Himself (a point on which all are agreed), so from the same necessity it follows that God enacts an infinity of things in infinite modes. Finally, we have shown by Prop. 34, Part I., that the power of God is nothing else than God's essence in act ; so that it is as impossible for ns to conceive God not acting as it is for us to conceive God not ex- isting.

If I wished to pursue this subject further, I could show that this power which the vulgar connect with God is not only human in its kind (which proves that the vulgar always think of God as a human being), but that it even involves impotence. But I do not wish to discuss this matter again, and therefore refer the reader to what has been said in Part I., from Prop. 16 onwards to the end, which I request him to read again and ponder carefully. For no one can rightly comprehend what I wish to establish if he does not take the greatest pains not to confound the power of God with the power and right of a human potentate.

PKOP. IT. — The Idea of God whence infinities follow^ in infinite modes can only be single or one.

spixoza's ethics.

02

Demoxste. — Infinite intelligence comprises nothing but the attributes and the affections of God (by Prop. 30, Part I.) But God is one (by Coroll. 1 to Prop. 14, Part I.) ; consequently the Idea of God, from which follow infinities in infinite modes, can o)dy be single or one. q. e. d.

PROP. Y. — The formal being of ideas has God as cause in so far only as God is considered as thinking being, and not as God is re- vealed by some other attribute ; in other words, ideas, whether of the attributes of God or of particular things, have not their ideates or things perceived as their efficient cause, but God considered as thinking being.

Demonste. — This is plain from Prop. 3 ; for there we concluded that God forms an idea of the Divine Essence and of all that follows necessarily from it by this alone, namely — because God is thinking being, and not because God is the object of God’s idea. Wherefore the formal being of ideas has God for cause, in so far as God is considered as thinking being. But this may be demonstrated in another way : — the formal being of ideas is a mode of thought (as is obvious of itself), that is, a mode which (by Coroll. to Prop. 25, Part I.) expresses in a certain manner the nature of God in so far as God is think- ing being ; but this does not involve the concept of any other attribute of God (by Prop. 10, Part I.), and (‘onsequently (by Ax. 4, Part I.) is the effect of no other attribute save thought alone. Therefore the formal being of ideas has God for cause only in so

PAKT/II.— OF THE 3riXD Oil SOUL.

far as God is (Considered as thinking being, and ncjt as, etc. Q. E. D.

l^ROP. YI. — The modes of any attribute what- ever have (fod for their cause in so far only as God is considered under that par- ticular attribute of which they are the modes, and not under any other attribute.

Demoxste. — For each attribute is conceived by and through itself alone (by Prop. 10, Part I.) Wherefore the inodes of each particular attribute in- volve the concept of that particular attribute and of no other; and so (by Ax. 4, Part I.) they have God for their cause, but only in so far as God is consid- ered under that particular attribute of which they are the modes, and not under any other attribute.

E. D.

Coroll. — Hence it follows that the formal being of things which are not modes of thought, does not fol- low from the Divine nature by virtue of its presci- ence of things, but that the things conceived follow from the attributes upon which they depend and are deduced from them in the same way and by the same necessity as we have' shown that ideas follow and are deduced from the attribute of thought.

i^ROP. Yir. —The order and connection of ideas is the same as the order and connec- tion of things.

Demoxstr. — This appears xilaiidy from Ax. 4, Part 1. For the idea of everything caused depends upon a knowledge of the cause of which it is the effect.

Coroll,— Hence it follows that God’s power to

04

Spinoza's ethics.

think is equal to God’s virtual power to act ; iu other words, all that follows formally from the infinite na- ture of God, follows objectively in God in the same order and with the same connections from the idea of God.

SciiOL. — Before going fiirtlier it will be well to recall to mind what lias been already said, viz., that all that can be perceived by the infinite intelligence as constituting the essence of substance belongs to the one substance only ; and consequently that thinking substance and extended substance are only one and the same substance, whicli is conceived now under this attribute, and now under that. So also a mode of extension, and the idea of that mode, are only one and the same thing expressed in two Avays. And this is wliat appears to have been perceived dimly as through a cloud by certain HebreAvs, avIio maintain that God, the intelligence of God, and the things understood of God, are one and the same thing. For example : a circle AAdiicli exists in nature, and tlie idea of an existing circle, AAdiich is also in God, are one and the same thing expressed by differ- ent attributes ; and consequently, Avhether Ave con- ceive nature under the attribute of extension, or under the attribute of thought, or under any other attribute AvhateA^er, ^xe shall alAAuys find one and the same order and connection of causes ; that is, the same things Avill be found folloAAfing one after an- other. And if I haAU said that God is the cause of the idea of the circle, for example, in so far only as God is thinking Being, and cause of the circle itself in so far only as God is extended Being, I have said it for no other reason than this : that the formal being of the idea of the circle can only be perceived by another mode of thought as its proximate cause,

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tliis again by another, and so on to infinity ; so tliat, so long as tilings are considered as modes of tlionglit, we must explain the entire order of nature or the connection of causes by the attribute of thought alone ; and if they are considered as modes of exten- sion, then by the attribute of extension alone ; and in the same way for other attributes. Wherefore Ave conclude that of things considered in themselves. God, as constituted by an infinity of attributes, is the true cause ; but I cannot at present explain this more clearly.

PEOP. VIII. — Ideas of individual things or of inodes which do not exist must be compre- hended in the infinite idea of God, in the same Avay as the formal essences of things or of modes are comprised in the attributes of God.

Demoxstr. — This proposition is evident from the preceding Scholium.

C DROLL. — Hence it folloAvs that so long as individ- ual things have no existence save in so far as they are comprised in the attributes of God, their objec- tive being or ideas do not exist save in so far as the infinite idea of God exists ; and where individual things are said to exist not merely in so far as they are comprised in the attributes of God, but in so far also as they are said to have a duration, the ideas of these things, whereby they are said to have a dura- tion, also involve existence.

SciiOL. — If it is desired that I should give an exam- ple for the better illustration of this subject, I confess, indeed, that I cannot give, one that Avill adequately explain it, for it is a thing unique in its kind. I Avill

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endeavor, liowever, to tlie best of my ability, to illus- trate it. The nature of the circle, for instance, is such that if it is crossed by several straight lines in- tersecting each other, the rectangles formed by their segments are equal to one another. In the circle, therefore, there may be contained an infinity of rec- tangles severally equal to one another. IS'one of these-rec tangles, however, could be said to exist save in so far as the circle existed ; neither can the idea of any of them be said to exist save in so far as it is comprised in the idea of the circle. Xow let two only of these rectangles, D and E, from among the infinite number possible, be conceived to exist. Then, indeed, do the ideas of these rectangles exist not only in so far as they are com- prised in the idea of the circle, but they exist also in so far as they involve in themselves the existence of the two given rectangles, the ideas of which are thereby distinguished from all other ideas of all other possible rectangles.

PROP. IX. — The idea of an individual thing existing in act, has God for its cause, not as God is infinite, but as God is considered as affected by another idea of an individual tiling existing in act, of which God is also the cause in so far as God is affected by a third idea, and so on to infinity.

Demoxstr. — The idea of an individual thing exist- ing in act is a particular mode of thought distinct from all other modes (by Coroll, and Schol. to ProjD. 8), and consequently (by Prop. 6) has God for its

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(^aiise, but only in so far as God is considered as thinking being ; not, however, as the absolute think- ing being (by Prop. 28, Part I.), but in so far con- sidered as affected by another mode of thought which also has God for its cause as affected by still another mode of thought, and so on to infinity. But the order and connection of ideas is the same (by Prop. 7) as the order and connection of causes. Therefore is the cause of each particular idea always another idea, or God in so far considered as affected by this other idea, which in its turn has God for its cause, and so on to infinity, q. e. d.

Coroll. — God has knowledge of wdiatever happens in the individual object of an idea in so far onh^ as there is in God the idea of that object.

Demonstk. — Whatever happens in the object of any idea, God has an idea of it (by Prop. 3), not as God is infinite, but in so far considered as affected by the idea of another individual thing (by preceding Prop.) But (by Pro]D. 7) the order and connection of ideas is the same as the order and connection of things. Therefore a knowledge of whatever happens in any individual object will be present in God in so far only as God has an idea of that object, q. e. h.

PROP. X. — To be of substance does not belong to the essential nature of man ; in other words, substance does not constitute the formal or actual being {forma) of man.

Demoxstil— To be of substance involves necessary existence (by Prop. 7, Part I.) If, therefore, to be of substance belonged to the essence of man, sub- stance being given, man Avould necessarily also be given (by Def. 2), and consequently man would exist

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necessarily, — which is absurd (by Ax. 1). Therefore, etc. Q. E. D.

SciioL. 1. — This proposition may also be demon- strated by the aid of Prop. 5, Part I., wherein it is proved that two substances of the same nature cannot exist. But, as many men can co-exist, it is therefore not substantive being which constitutes the formal or actual in man. This ^proposition is made further manifest when the other ^properties of substance are considered, — such as that it is by its nature infinite, immutable, indivisible, etc., as must be obvious to every one.

ConoLL. — Hence it follows that the essential nature of man is constituted by certain modifications of the attributes of God ; for substantive being (by the pre- ceding Prop.) does not belong to the essence of man. It is therefore (by Prop, lo. Part I.) something which is in God and which can neither be nor be con- ceived to be without God (by Coroll. to Proj). 25, Part I.) ; in other words, it is an affection or mode which expresses the nature of God in a certain and determinate way.

SciioL. 2. — All indeed must allow that nothing can be, nor be conceived to be, without God ; for it is admitted by all that God is the sole cause of all things, — of their essences as well as of their existences ; that is, God is not only the cause of the becoming of things (as is said), but of their being icliat they ctre. But while most reasoners thus say that what belongs to the essence of a thing is that without which the thing can neither be nor be conceived to be, one of two things must result from it — either that the nature of God belongs to the essence of created things, or, that the things created can be and be conceived to be without God ; or, — and this is much the most

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certain — that they who reason thus are inconsistent with themselves. These persons, in my opinion, observe no philosophical order in their reasonings ; for whereas they should have first contemplated the Divine nature, because it is prior both in the order of conception and in nature, yet have they con- sidered it last, and have given precedence to the con- sideration of those things Avhich are styled objects of sense. So that it has come to pass that contempla- ting natural things, nothing has been further from their thoughts than the Divine nature ; and when, afterwards, they have raised their minds to the con- templation of this, they could not forget those first figments of their imaginations upon which the super- structure of their science of natural things was reared. But a knowledge of natural things does not aid ns in a knowledge of the Divine nature, and it is therefore no wonder that they who build on the former should often be found contradicting them- selves. But I cannot dwell on this, — my purpose .here being only to explain why I have not said that that belongs to the essence of a thing without which the thing can neither be nor be conceived to be — for it is certainly true that without God individual things can neither be nor be conceived to be — and yet have said that God (or Substance) pertains not to their essence, but that what necessarily constitutes the essence of a thing is that which being given, the thing is given, and which being taken away, the thing is not ; or, it is that Avithout AAdiich the thing, and, vice mrsd^ that Avhich Avithout the thing can neither be nor be conceived to be. ( Vide Def. 2.)

PBOP. XI. — That AAdiicli in the beginliing

constitutes the Actual or Keal being

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of the liiiinaii soul is nothing else than the Idea of a particular thing existing in act.

Demoxstk. — The essence of man (by Coroll, to pre- ceding Prop.) is constituted by certain modes of the attributes of Clod, namely — by modes of thought (b}" Ax. 2), the ideas of all of which are prior in nature (by Ax. 3), and being given, the other modes (the ideas of which are prior in nature) must also be present in the same individual (Ax. 4). Thus, therefore, is Idea that which in the heglnnlng constitutes the actual or real being of the human soul. But not the idea of a non-existing thing, for then (by Coroll, to Prop. 8) the idea itself could not be said to exist ; nor yet the idea of an infinite thing, for an infinite thing (by Props. 21 and 23, Part I.) must necessarily and eternally exist. But such assumx)tions are absurd (by Ax. 1). Therefore is the idea of a partic- ular thing existing in act that which, in the begin- ning, constitutes the actual being of the human mind or soul. Q. E. D.

. ConoLL. — Hence it follows that the human soul is part of the infinite intelligence of Clod ; so that when we say that the human soul perceives this or that, we say no other thing than that Grod — not as the Infinite, but in so far as expressed by the nature of the human soul, or in so far as Clod constitutes its essence — has this or that idea ; and saying this, we not only say that Clod has an idea of this or that in so far as God constitutes the nature of the human soul, but in so far as along with the human soul God has also an idea of another thing — in which case we say that the human soul perceives a thing in a partial or inade- quate manner.

ScnoL. — And here I doubt not that some of my

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rea tiers will pause and devise many questions wliicli will make further progress ditRcult. It is for this reason that I now ask them to proceed with me delib- erately, and to suspend their judgments until they have read and thoroughly considered all that I have still to say on this subject.

PE OP. XII. — IVliatever happens in the object

of the idea which constitutes the lininan / soul must be perceived by the soul — or an idea of that object is necessarily present in the soul ; that is to say, if the object of the idea which constitutes the liiiinan soul be body, nothing can happen in the body which is not perceived by the soul.

Demoxstr. — Whatever happens in the object of an idea is necessarily knowui to God (by Coroll. to Prop. 9) in so far considered as affected by the idea of that object ; that is (by Prop. 11), in so far as God constitutes the soul of a particular thing. Conse- quently, whatever happens in the object of the idea which constitutes the human soul will be necessarily cognized by God in so far as God constitutes the nature of the human soul ; that is (by Coroll, to Prop. 11), the consciousness of it will be necessarily in the soul, or will be perceived by it. q. e. n.

SciiOL. — This proposition is evident, but perhaps it will be more clearly understood by the Scliolinm to Proposition 7, which see.

PEOP. XIII. — The object of the idea which constitutes the human soul is the body, or

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a certain mode of extension existing in act and nothing else.

Demoxstk. — If the body were not the object of tlie soul of man, ideas of the atfections of the body could not be present in God (by Coroll. to Prop. 9) in so far as God constitutes our soul, but only in so far as God constituted the soul of some other thing ; that is to say (by Coroll, to Prop. 11), ideas of the affections of the body could not be present in our soul at all. But (by Ax. 4) we have ideas of our bodily affections ; therefore the object of the idea which constitutes the human soul is the body exist- ing in act (by Prop. 11). Again : if the soul had any other object besides the body, inasmuch as nothing exists (by Prop. 36, Part I.) from which some effect does not follow, there must necessarily have been some idea of such an effect resulting from that object present in our soul (by Prop. 11). But (by Ax. 5) there is no idea of any such effect present in our soul, and therefore no such idea exists. Consequent- \y, the object of our soul is our body existing in act, and nothing else. Q. e. d.

CoKOLL. — Hence it follows that man is composed of soul and body, and that the human body exists as we feel and are conscious of it.

SciiOL. — AVhat precedes enables us not only to un- derstand that the human soul is united to the body, but also what is to be understood by the union of soul and body. Xo one, however, can understand this distinctly or adequately unless he first adequate- ly understands the nature of the human body. For what we have said thus far is of general application, and does not refer to man more than to other crea- tures, which are all, though in different degrees, ani-

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mated {i.e., have souls). For the idea of everything of which God is cause, necessarily exists in God in the same way as the idea of the human body ; so that all we have said of the idea of the human body must also necessarily be said of the idea of every other thing. But still it cannot be denied that ideas differ from one another just as their objects do, so that one idea is more excellent than another and has more of reality belonging to it, just as the object of one idea is more excellent than the object of another and possesses more of inherent reality than others. To determine, therefore, wherein the human soul excels other souls, and whereby it is distinguished from others, it is necessary that we should know its object, namely, tlie nature of the human body. This, how- ever, I cannot explain in this place, nor is it neces- sary that I should do so in respect of that which I now wish to demonstrate. I therefore limit myself to say, in a general way, that in the degree that one body is more apt than others at once to act and to suf- fer in a number of ways, so much the more ajit is its associated soul simultaneously to perceive a variety of things ; and, the more the actions of a particular body depend upon itself alone, and the less other bodies concur with it in acting, the more will the soul united to that body be apt to understand things dis- tinctly. And it is by this that we know the su- periority of one mind or soul over another, and also perceive the reason why we have only a confused knowledge of our body as well as of many other things, which in what follows I shall deduce from this. It is for this reason that I shall now take jiains to explain and demonstrate the matter more carefully ; and in order to do this it is necessary to offer a few preliminary remarks concerning the nature of bodies.

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Axiom I. — All bodies are either in motion or at rest.

Axiom II. — Every body in motion moves noAv slower, now faster.

Lemma I. — Bodies are distinguished from one another by reason of their motion or rest and by slowness or rapidity of their motions, and not in respect of substance.

Demoxstr. — The first part of this Lemma I sup- pose to be self-evident. As to the second part — that bodies are not distinguished by reason of substance — that appears by Propositions 5 and 8, Part I.; and still more clearly by what has been said in the Scho- linm to Proposition 15, Part I.

Lemma II.— All bodies agree in some things.

Demoxstr. — All bodies agree in these xiarticnlars : — that they all involve the conception of one and the same attribute (by Def. 1) ; and, further, that they move now more slowly, now more rapidly ; and last- ly, that they may now be in motion, and now abso- lutely at rest.

Lemma III. — A body in motion or at rest must be determined to motion or to rest by another body, which in its turn was determined to motion or to rest by another, this again by another, and so on to infinit}^

Demoxstr. — Bodies (by Def. 1) are individual things which (by Lemma 1) are distinguished from one another by reason of their motion and rest ; each therefore (by Prox). 28, Pt. I.) must necessarily be de- termined to motion or rest by some other individual thing, namely (by Prox^. 6), by another body which (by Ax. 1) is itself either in motion or at rest. But this other body (for the same reason) could neither move nor rest unless determined to do so by another

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body, and this again (for the same reason) by another, and so on to infinity. Q. e. d.

CoKOLL. — Hence it follows that a body in motion continues to move until it is determined by another body to come to rest ; and that a body at rest remains at rest until it is put in motion by another body. This is self-evident. For when I suppose a body, say A, at rest, without taking any notice of other bodies that are in motion, all that I can say of A is that it is at rest. But if, afterwards, it happens that A moves, this motion certainly could not have come from its state of rest ; for nothing could come from that but continnons rest. If, on the contrary, we suppose A in motion, then, so long as we take no notice of any other bodies, we could affirm nothing of A except that it moved. But if, afterwards, it happened that A came to rest, it is evident that this rest could not have come from the motion it had before ; for the only thing that could come from motion would be continnons motion. The rest of A came therefore from something that was not in A, namely, from an external cause which determined it to rest.

Axio:\i I. — All the modes in which one body is affected by another, follow from both the nature of the affected and of the affecting body at one and the same time ; so that one and the same body is diverse- ly moved by diversity in the nature of the moving bodies ; and, on the other hand, different bodies are moved in diverse ways by one and the same body.

Axiom II. — AVhen a body in motion impinges on another body at rest which it cannot move, it suffers reflection in continuing its motion, and the angle of the line of reflected motion is equal to that of the line

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of incidence Avitli the plane of the body at rest impinged upon. This much in re- spect of the simplest bodies, to wit, those that are distinguished from one another by motion and rest and by rapidity or slowness of motion alone. Let us noAv ]3roceed to composite bodies.

Defixitiox. — AVhen several bodies of the same or of different magnitudes are so pressed together that they severally overlie or rest one upon another, or when they move with like or different degrees of rapidity in such wise that they severally communicate their motions in some certain measure to one another, we say that these bodies are so united that, together, the,y compose one body or individual wdiich by this union is distinguished from other bodies.

Axio:\r III. — According as the parts of a composite body or individual press or rest one upon another by surfaces of greater or less extent, so Avill it be more or less difficult or easy to force them to change their places, and consequently more or less difficult or easy to change the figure or shape of the individual which they compose. It is for this reason that bodies are called hard when their several parts are in contact with each other by large surfaces ; soft^ when their • parts are in contact by small surfaces ; and fluids when their several jiarts are easily movable on each other.

Lemma IY. — If from a body or individual com- posed of several parts or bodies, some of these are detached, but at the same moment replaced by an equal number of parts or bodies of the same nature and form, that individual will retain its nature and its figure as before, without change.

Demoxste. — For bodies (by Lemma 1) are not dis-

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tinguislied from one another by reason of substance. But that which constitutes the form of an individual thing consists in the union of the bodies or parts which compose it (by preceding Del) ; and this union (by hypothesis) is retained although the parts are continually changed. The individual, therefore, ivill retain its nature as before, both in resioect of sub- stance and of mode. q. e. d.

Lemma Y. — If the parts which compose an individ- ual become larger or smaller, but in such relative pro- portion as that all preserve the same ratio in respect of motion and rest as before, the individual will like- wise retain its nature as before, without any change of form.

Demonstr. — This is the same as for the preceding Lemma.

Lemma YI. — If the bodies or x^arts composing a certain individual are forced to change the direction of their motions, but in such a way that they can continue their motions and communicate them to each other in the same ratio as before, the individual will in like manner retain its nature without any change of form.

Demonstr. — This is self-evident. For the individ- ual is supxiosed to retain everything which, in its de- hnition, we have said constitutes its form.

Lemma YII. — The individual thus comj)osed will likewise retain its nature, whether it be moved as a whole or rests as a whole, and whether its motion has this or that direction, so long as each one of its parts retains its motion and communicates it to the other Xiarts as before.

Demonstr. — This will be found in the Definition of a body or individual which xirecedes Lemma 4, which see.

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ScnoL. — From what precedes we see how a com- posite individual may be affected in many ways, and yet, notwithstanding, preserve its nature. Thus far we have conceived an individual compounded of bodies distinguished from one another only by motion or rest, or by slowness or rapidity of movement — that is to say, an individual composed of the simplest bodies. But had we conceived another, composed of numerous individuals of dilferent natures, then should we have found that it was capable of being affected in many other ways, and yet, nevertheless, could preserve its nature unchanged. For inasmuch as each one of its parts is itself composed of many bodies or parts, these severally and (by preceding Lemma) without any change in their nature may move now more slowly, now more rapidly, and con- sequently communicate their more rapid or slower movements to the rest. Again, if we had conceived a third kind of individual compounded of this second class of bodies, then should we have perceived that it also could be affected in many different ways without undergoing any change in its form. And if we went on and on in this manner to infinity, we should readily conceive that the whole of nature was really but One Individual, whose several parts or bodies, in other words, all bodies whatsoever, varied in an in- finity of ways without any change in the totality of nature conceived as One Individual. This would be more fully explained and demonstrated if I had designed to treat of body ex professo ; but I repeat that such is not my purpose, and that I have placed these preliminary remarks here only that I may deduce readily from them what I propose to de- monstrate

PAET 11.— OF THE MIXD OR SOUL.

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POSTULATES.

I. The human body is composed of many individual parts (of diverse nature), each of which is itself higlily composite.

II. Of the individual iiarts of whicli the human body is composed some are fluids some soft^ and some hard.

III. The individual parts composing the human body, and consequently the human body itself, are affected in very many ways by external bodies.

IV. The human body requires for its preservation many other bodies, by which it is, as it Avere, con- tinually regenerated.

V. When a ffuid part of the human body is de- termined by an external body to impinge frequently upon another soft part, it alters the surface of it and impresses on it some trace, as it AA^ere, of the external impelling body.

VI. The human body can moA^e external bodies in many AA'ays, and in many.AAnys influence or dispose them.

PKOP. XIY. — The liniiian soul is capable of perceiAung many things ; and it is so much the more capable in proportion as its body may be disposed in many Avays.

Deaioxstr. — For the human body (by Postulates 8 and 6) is affected by external bodies in many AA'ays ; and is also disposed to affect external bodies in many Avays. But all that happens in the human body must be perceived by the human soul (by Prop. 12) ; therefore the human soul is capable of per-

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ceiving many things, and so much the more caiDable, etc. Q. E. D.

PEOP. XV. — The idea which constitutes the formal or actual being of the huinan soul is not simple, but composed of many ideas.

Demoxstu. — The idea which constitutes the actual being of the human soul is the idea of the body (by Prop. 13), wliich (by Post. 1) is composed of many composite individuals. But the idea of each individual component of the body is necessarily present in Grod (by Coroll, to Prop. 8). Therefore (by Prop. 7) the idea of the human body is composed of the many ideas of these different component parts.

Q. E. D.

PEOP. XVI. — The idea of every mode by which the human body is affected by external bodies, must involve at one and the same time the nature both of the human body and of the external affecting body.

Demoxstr. — For all the modes by which any body is affected follow from the nature both of the affected body and of the body affecting it at one and the same time (by Ax. 1 after the Coroll, to Lemma 3) ; wherefore the idea of the modes necessarily involves the nature of both bodies (by Ax. 4, Part I.) ; and so the idea of every mode by which the human body is affected by an external body, involves the nature both of the human body and of the external bod}'. Q. E. D.

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Coroll. 1. — Hence it follows : First — that the human soul perceives along with the nature of its own body the nature of many other bodies.

Coroll. 2. — Secondly — it follows, that the ideas we have of external bodies rather indicate the con- stitution of onr own body than the nature of external bodies. This has been explained by numerous ex- amples in the Appendix to Part I.

PKOP. XVII. — If the Imuian body be affected by a mode Avhicli involves the nature of an external body, the linnian soul will con- template that external body as actually existing, or as x^i’csent, until the body is affected by some other affection which ex- cludes the existence or presence of tliat external body,

Demonstr. — This is obvious. For so long as the human body is thus affected, so long will the human soul (by Prop. 12) contemplate that affection of the body ; that is (by preceding Prop.), it will have an idea of the mode which exists in act and which in- volves the nature of the external body ; in other words, it will have an idea which does not exclude blit affirms the existence or presence of the nature of the external body. Thus will the soul (by Coroll. 1 to preceding Proj).) contemplate an external body as actually existing, or as present, until it is affected by some other affection which excludes it. q. e. d.

Coroll. — AYlien the human body has once been affected by external bodies the soul has the power of (mntemx)lating them as present afterwards, though they do not then exist and are not actually present.

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Demoxstu. — So long as external bodies determine liuid parts of the human liody to imi^inge frequently niion soft parts, the surfaces of the latter will be (dianged (by Post. 5); whereby it happens (see Ax. 2 after the Coroll, to Lemma 8) that the fluid parts will be deflected in other directions than before, and that if afterwards in their spontaneous movements they impinge again upon the changed surfaces of the soft parts, they will be again and similarly deflected, ])recisely as though they had been impelled against them by external bodies ; and consequently so long as these reflected motions occur, they will affect the human body in the same manner as did the original motions ; — and it is by such means that the human soul is made to think anew or repeat its thoughts (by Prop. 12), — that is to say (by Prop. 17), it again con- templates the external body as present ; and this it Avill do as often as the fluid parts of the human body by their spontaneous motions impinge on the same surfaces. Wherefore, although the external bodies by which the human body has once been affected no longer exist, yet the soul contemplates them as present, as often as that action of the body which we have described is repeated, q. e. d.

SciiOL. — We thus see how it may be that things which do not exist are frequently conteinj^lated as present. And it is possible that the same effect may happen from other causes. But it suffices that I should have here shown one cause whereby I explain the matter as well as if I had shown a true cause ; nor do I believe that I stray far from the truth, seeing that among all the Postulates I assume, there is scarcely one that is not confirmed by experience, or that can be called in question after it has been shown that the human body exists as we ourselves are con-

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scions that it does (see Coroll, to Prop. 13). Besides this, we clearly understand (by the preceding Coroll, and Coroll. 2 to Prop. 16) what difference there is between the idea, sny—ex. gr — of Peter, which con- stitutes the essence of the soul or mind of Peter him- self, and the idea of Peter which is ])resent in the mind of another man — say of Paul. For the one is directly expressive of the essence of the body of Peter himself, and only involves his existence so long as Peter actually exists; but the other lather indi- cates the constitution of the body of Paul than the nature of Peter ; and so long as this corporeal consti- tution of Paul continues the mind of Paul will con- template Peter as being present to it, although Peter may have ceased to exist. Furthermore, and that we may continue to make use of common language, we shall call the affections of the human body, the ideas of Avliich represent external bodies as being present to us, images of tldiigs^ although the tigures of things are not really .reflected ; and when the soul contemplates bodies in this way we shall say that it imagines them. And here, in order that I may point out in what error consists, I desire it to be observed that the imaginations of the soul, considered in themselves, contain no error — o\% in other Avords, that the soul errs not hecause of that which is imagined^ but in so far only as it is held to be Avithout or de- ])rived of the idea' AAdiich excludes the existence of the things it imagines to be present to it. For if the soul, Avhilst it imagined as present things Avhicli had no existence, Avas at the same time conscious that they did not really exist, this imaginative power Avould haA^e to ])e ascribed not to imperfection of the soul but to the perfection of its nature, especially if the faculty of imagining depended on its proper nr-

spixoza’s etjiics.

S4

ture alone, — tliat is to say (by Del 7, Part I.), if tlie souls faculty of imagining was free.

PROP. XYIII.— If the limnan body has once been affected by two or more bodies simnl- taneonsly and the soul afterwards ima- gines anything in respect of one of them, tlicn will it immediately remember the other or the others also.

Demoxstr. — The soul (by the preceding Coroll.) imagines a certain body as present because the lininan body is affected and inliiienced by the traces of an ex- ternal body, in the same way as it would be were any of its parts touched or impinged ni^on by an external body. But (by onr hypothesis) the body was then disposed or inlluenced in such a way that the soul imagined two bodies simnltaneonsly ; therefore, whenever that disposition of the body is reproduced the soul will imagine two bodies at once ; and, farther, whenever it imagines either of them, it will also immediately remember the other. Q. e. d.

SciioL. — By this we clearly understand what memory is. It is nothing more than a certain conca- tenation of ideas involving the nature of things ex- ternal to the hnivian body, which concatenation takes place in the mind according to the order and conca- tenation of the affections of the linman body. I say, in the first place^ that memory is merely a concaiena- tion of ideas involving the nature of things external to the body, but not of ideas which explain the na- ture of these things ; for there are, indeed (by Prop. 16), ideas of the affections of the human body which involve the nature both of that and of external bodies. I say, secondly^ that this concatenation of

PART II. — OF THE MIND OR SOUL. 8o

ideas takes j)lac3 according to tlie order and concate- nation of the affections of the human body, so as to distinguish it from that other concatenation whicli - takes place according to the order of the understand- ing, whereby the soul perceives things by their first causes, and is the same in all men. And hence, further, we clearly understand why the soul from the thought of one thing often immediately passes to the thought of another which has no resemblance to the first ; for example, a Roman, from the thought of the word poiiium immediately thinks of an apple, which has no resemblance to the articulate sound of the word apple, nor anything in common with it, ex- cept that his body had often been affected by those two things at once (the word or its sound and an apple) — that is, he had often heard the word poinum at the same time that he saw the fruit it signified ;

— and it is in this way that the mind of man passes from one thought to another, according as custom or habit has ordered or arranged the images of things in Ins body. A soldier, for instance, when he sees the foot-prints of a horse in the sand, from thoughts of the horse passes to thoughts of its rider, thence to thoughts of war, etc. ; wliilst a peasant, from thoughts of the horse, would pass to thoughts of fields, ploughs, etc. ; — and so each one, according o.s he is accustomed to connect and concatenate the im- ages of things, passes from one thought to another.

PROP. XIX. — The limnan soul does not knoAv the human body itself ; neither does it knoAV that the body exists except throiigli the ideas of the* affections by wliich the body is affected or influenced.

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Bemoxstr. — For tli3 liiiman soul is tli3 very idea or consciousness of tlie liiirnan body (by Prop. i:3), wliich is verily in God (by Prop. 9), in so far as God 'is considered as affected by another idea of an indi- vidual thing ; or because (by Post. 4) the human body has need of many other bodies by which it is, as it were, continually regenerated ; and as the order and connection of ideas is the same (by Prop. 7) as the order and connection of causes, so will this idea be in God in so far as God is considered to be affected by the ideas of many individual things. God, there- fore, has the idea of the human body— or God cog- nizes the human body in so far as God is affected by many other ideas, and not as God constitutes the na- ture of the human soul ; — in other words (by Coroll, to Pi'op. 11), the human soul does not cognize the liu- nian body. But the ideas of the affections of the body are in God in so far as God constitutes the na- ture of the human soul, that is, the human soul j^er- ceives these same affections (by Prop. 12) and conse- (piently (by Prop. 16) the human body itself ; and further (by Prop. 17), perceives it as existing in act. The human soul, therefore, perceives the human body itself only in so far as it perceives the ideas of the af- fections by Avhich the body is affected, q. e. d.

PROP. XX. — There is also present in God an idea or consciousness of the linnian soul, and this follows from and is referred to God in the same way as the idea or con- sciousness of the human body.

Bemdxstr. — Thouglit is an attribute of God (by Prop. 1), and so (by Prop. 8) there is necessarily in God an idea of God as well as of all of God’s affec-

PAKT II.— OF THE MIND OR SOUL.

8T

tions, and consequently (by Prop. 11) tlie idea of tlie lininan soul also. But it does not follow that this idea or consciousness of the human soul exists in God considered as infinite, but only as affected by another idea of a particular thing (by Prop. 9). But the order and connection of ideas is the same as the order and connection of causes (by Prop. 7) ; and it follows, therefore, that this idea or consciousness of the soul is present in and is referred to God in the same manner as the idea or consciousness of the body. Q. E. D.

PROP. XXI. — This idea of the soul is united with the soul in the same way as the soul itself is united with the body.

Demonstr. — We have shown that the mind or soul is united with the body in the fact that the body is the object of the soul {^mde Props. 12 and 13). Con- sequently the idea of the soul must, in like manner, be united with its object — that is, with the soul itself — in the same way as tlie soul is united with the body.

Q. E. D.

ScnoL. — This proposition will, perhaps, be more clearly understood by what has been said in the Scholium to Proposition 7, where we have shown that the idea of the body and the body itself — that is to say (by Prop. 13), the soul and the body are one and the same individual thing, conceived now under the attribute of thought, and now under that of exten- sion ; — wherefore the idea of the soul, and the soul itself, are one and the same thing conceived under one and the same attribute, namely — that of thought. I say that the idea of the soul, and the soul itself, are X) resent in God by the same necessity, and follow from

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the same power of thinking. For the idea of mind or sonl, that is to say — the idea of an idea — is noth- ing else than the form or reality of that idea, in so far considered as it is a mode of thought without re- lation to its object ; — ^for so soon as any one knows a thing, he himself knows that he knows it, and at the same time knows that he knows what he knows, and so on to infinity. But of this more hereafter.

PROP. XXII. — The liuiiiaii soul not only per- ceives the affections of the body, but also the ideas of these affections.

Demoxstr. — The ideas of the ideas of the affections follow in Grod in the same way, and are referred to God in tlie same way, as the ideas themselves of the affections, — the demonstration of this being the same as in Prop. 20. But the ideas of the affections of the body are in the human soul (by Prop. 12) ; that is, they are in God, seeing that God constitutes the essence of the human soul (by Coroll, to Prop. 11). Therefore the ideas of these ideas will be in God in so far as God has the idea or consciousness of the hu- man soul ; that is to say (by Prop. 21), these ideas are present in the human soul itself, which conse- quently not only perceives the affections of the body, but also the ideas of tliese affections, q. e. d.

PROP. XXIII. — The soul has no knowledge or consciousness of itself save only in so ffir as it perceives ideas of the affections of the body.

Bemoxstr. — The idea or consciousness of the soul (by Proj). 20) follows in and is referred to God in the

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same way as is the idea or consciousness of the body. But since (by Prop. 19) the human soul does not know or is not conscious of the human body itself, that is (by the Coroll, to Prop. 11), inasmuch as con- sciousness of the human body is not referred to God in so far as God constitutes the nature of the human soul, therefore neither is consciousness of the soul referred to God in so far as God constitutes the essence of the soul ; and so and in so far (by the same Coroll, to Prop. 11) the human soul does not know or is not conscious of itself. Again : tlie ideas of the affections by which the human body is affected involve the nature of the body itself (by Prop. 16) ; that is to say (by Prop. 13), they agree with the nature of the soul. Wherefore the consciousness of these ideas necessarily involves the consciousness of the soul. But (by the preceding Prop.) the conscious- ness of these ideas is in the soul itself. Therefore the soul knows or is conscious of itself only in so far as it perceives ideas of the affections of the body.

Q. E. D.

PKOP. XXIT. — The liuman soul does not in- Yolve adeq[iiate knowledge of the parts composing the limn an body.

Demoxstr. — The parts composing the human body do not pertain to the essence of the body itself, ex- cept in so far as they mutually communicate their motions to one another in some certain measure {;mde Def. following the Coroll, to Lemma 3), and not in so far as they can be considered as individuals without relation to the body of which they are parts. For the parts of the human body (by Post. 1) are themselves highly composite individuals, the parts of which

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(by Lemma 4) may be completely detached from the body, its nature and form being still retained, and their motions communicated in other ways to other bodies (see Ax. 2, after Lemma 3). Therefore (by Prop. 3) the idea or consciousness of each part will be in Cxod, and this (by Prop. 9) in so far as God is con- sidered to be alfected by another idea of an individ- ual thing, Avliich thing on its part is jDrior in the order of nature (by Prop. 7). And the same is to be said of each part of the individual thing which is itself one of the component parts of the body ; so that con- sciousness of each of the parts composing the human body exists in God in so far as God is alfected by the ideas of a number of things, and not merely and in so far as God has an idea of the human body — that is (by Prop. 13), an idea which constitutes the nature of the human soul ; consequently (by Coroll, to Prop. 11) the human soul does not involve ade- quate knowledge of the parts composing the human body. Q. E. D.

PROP. XXY. — The idea of each affection of the luimaii body does not involve adequate knowledge of an external body.

Dehonstr. — We have shown {vide Prop. 10) that the idea of an affection of the human body involves the nature of an external body in so far as that external body itself determines the human body in some certain manner. And inasmuch as an exter- nal body is an individual thing ]iot referable to the human body, the idea or knowledge of it is iii God (by Prop. 9) in so far as God is considered to be affected by the idea of another thing which (by Prop.

PART II.— OF THE MIXD OK SOUL.

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7) is prior in nature to that external body. Where- fore adequate knowledge of the external body is not in God in so far considered as God has an idea of an affection of the human body ; or the idea of an affec- tion of the luiman body does not involve adequate knowledge of an external body. q. e. d.

PROP. XXVI. — The human soul perceives no external body as actually existing, except through ideas of affections of its own body.

De.uoxstii. — If the human body is in no way affected by an external body, then (by Prop. 7) neither is the idea of the human body, that is (by Prop. 13), neither is the idea of the human sonl in any way affected by the existence of such external body, — in other words, the sonl in no way perceives the existence of the external body. But in so far as the human body is in any way affected by an ex- ternal body, in so far (by Prop. 16 and its Coroll.) .the human sonl does perceive the external body. q. e. d.

CoiiOLL. — In so far as the liuman sonl merely imagines an external body, in so far it has no adequate knowledge of it.

Demoxstk. — When the human soul contemplates external bodies through ideas of the affections of its own body, we say that it imagines them {;inde Schol. to Prop. 17) ; nor can the sonl (by preceding Prop.) in any other way imagine external bodies as actually existing. Consequently (by Prop. 2o), in so far as the sonl iniaffiRes an external body it has no adequate knowledge of it. q. e. u.

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PROP. XXVII. — The idea of any aftectioii of the liiiinaii body does not involve ade- quate knowledge of the human body itself.

Di-lvoxstu. — E\"ery idea of every affection of the liuman body involves the natnre of the human bod}', in so far as the human body itself is considered as affected in a certain manner {vide Prop. 16). But in so far as the human body is an individual thing that may be affected in many different ways, its idea does not involve adequate knowledge of the human body itself {vide Demonstr. of Prop. 25).

PROP. XXVIII. — Ideas of the affections of the human body, in so far as they are referred to the liuman soul only, are not clear and distinct, but confused.

Demoxstu. — For ideas of the affections of the human body involve the nature of external bodies as well as of the human body itself (by Prop. 16 j ; and not only- the nature of the human body but of its parts also ; for affections are modes (by Post. 3) by which the parts of the body and consequently the whole of the body are affected. But (by Props. 24 and 25) adequate knowledge of external bodies as well as of the parts which compose the human body is in God, not in so far as God is considered as affected by the human soul, but in so far as God is considered as affected by other ideas. The ideas of these affections, therefore, in so far as they are re- ferred to the human soul alone, are like consequences without premises, that is — obviously — they are con- fused ideas. Q. e. d.

PART II. — OF THE MIXD OR SOUL.

93

SciroL. — The idea which constitutes tlie nature of the hiinian soul, when considered in itself alone, is in the same manner demonstrated to be not clear and distinct; as are also the idea of the human soul and the ideas of the ideas of the affections of the human body, in so far as they are referred to the soul alone, — as will be readily perceived b}" every one.

PROP. XXTX. — The idea of the idea of any of the affections of the lininan body does not involve ade(][nate knowledge of the lininan soul.

Demoxstil — For the idea of an affection of the human body (by Prop. 27) does not involve adequate knowledge of the body itself, or does not adequately express its nature ; that is (by Prop. 13), it does not adequately agree with the nature of the soul. There- fore (l)y Ax. 6, Part 1) the idea of that idea does not adequately express the nature of the human soul, — in other words, it does not involve adequate know- ledge of it. Q. E. n.

Coroll. — Hence it follows that the human soul so often as it perceives things out of the common order of nature has no adequate knowledge either of itself, or of its own body, or of external bodies, but only a confused and defective knowledge. For the soul does not know or is not conscious of itself, save in so far as it perceives ideas of the affections of the body (by Prop. 23) ; and the body does not perceive or is not conscious of itself (by Prop. 19) save through the ideas themselves of its affections, by which alone also (by Prop. 26) it perceives external bodies. Thus, therefore, in so far as the soul has these ideas it has

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no adequato knowledgo either of itself (by Prop. 29), or of its own body (by Proii. 27), or of external bodies (by Prop. 25), but only a confused and muti- lated knowledge (by Prop. 23, and its Scliol). Q. e. d.

SciioL. — I say expressly that so often as the soul perceives things out of the common order of nature it has not an adequate but only a confused know- ledge either of itself, or of its own body, or of external bodies ; — that is, so often as, externally to itself and by the fortuitous occurrence of things the soul is determined to contemplate this or that thing— and not so often as internally and by reason of its contemplating many things simultaneously the soul is determined to perceive or understand their agree- ments, differences, and oppositions. For so often as it is internally disposed in this, that, or some other- way, so often does it contemplate things clearly and distinctly, as I shall show further on.

PROP. XXX. — Of the duration of our body Ave can liavc only a very inadequate know- ledge.

Demoxstu. — The duration of our body does not depend on its essence (by Ax. 1), nor yet on the absolute nature of God (by Prop. 21, Part I.) ; but (by Prop. 28) it is determined in its existence and action by causes such as are themselves determined by still other causes to existence and action in a certain determinate manner, and these by yet other causes, and so on to infinity. The duration of our body therefore depends on the common order of nature and the constitution of things. But adequate knowledge of the way and manner in which things are constituted is lii God in so far as God has ideas of

PAirr ir.— OF the mixd op soul.

9r)

all these things, and not in so far as Grod has an idea of the human body alone (by Coroll, to Pro]). 9). Wherefore the knowledge of the duration of onr body is very inadequate in God, in so far as God is considered to constitute the nature of the huniaii soul only, that is (by Coroll, to Prop. 11) this know- ledge is very inadequate in our soul. q. e. d.

PROP. XXXI. — We can have only a very in- adequate knowledge of tlie duration of in- dividual things external to ourselves.

Pemoxstr. — For each individual thing must, like the liuman body, be determined to exist and act in a certain determinate manner by some other individual thing, and this again by another, and so on to infinity (by Proj:). 28, Part I.) But as Ave have in the preceding proposition demonstrated from this common ])roperty of individual things that Ave have only a very inadequate knoAvledge of the duration of our own body, therefore AA^e must come to the same conclusion in respect of the duration of in- dividual external things, viz., that AA^e have and can have only a very inadequate knoAAdedge of their dura- tion. Q. E. I).

Coroll. — Hence it folloAVs that all individual things are contingent and corruptible ; for of their duration Ave can have only a A^ery inadequate knoAA’^- ledge (by preceding Prop.) ; and this is Avhat Ave are to understand by the contingency and i)ossible cor- ruptibility of things {tride Schol. 1 to Prop. 33, Part I.) ; for (by Prop. 29, Part I.) except this there is nothing contingent.

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)

PROP. XXX IL — All ideas in so far as they are referred to Cfod, are true.

Demoxsth. — For all ideas that are in God agree perfectly with their ideates or objects (by Coroll. to Prop. 7), and are therefore true (by Ax. 6, Part I.)

Q. E. D.

PROP. XXXIII. — There is nothing positive in ideas by reason of which they can be said to be false.

Demoxstk. — If yon deny this, try to conceive, if possible, a positive mode of thought which consti- tutes a form of error or falsity. Such a mode of thought could not be in God (by preceding Prop.) ; but neither could it be or be conceived to be out of God (by Prop. 15, Part I.) Therefore there is nothing positive in ideas by reason of which they can be said to be false, q. e. d.

PROP. XXXIV. — Every idea which in ns is absolute, or adequate and perfect, is true.

Demoxstr. — When we say that we have an ade- quate and ]Derfect idea, we say nothing more (by Coroll, to Prop, 11) than that in God, in so far as God constitutes the essence of our soul, there is an ade- quate and perfect idea ; consequently (by Prop. 32), we say nothing more than that such an idea is true. Q. E. D.

PROP. XXXV. — Falsity consists in the priva- tion of knowledge which inadequate or im- perfect and confused ideas involve.

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97

De3IONSTk. — Tliere is nothing positive in ideas which constitutes the form or reality of falsehood (by Prop. 33). But falsity cannot consist in abso- lute i)i’ivation (for souls, not bodies, are said to err and to be deceived! ; nor yet in absolute ignor- ance,—for to err, and to be ignorant, are different things. The falsity, therefore, consists in that priva- tion of knowledge which an inadequate cognition of things, or inadequate and confused ideas, involves.

Q. E. D.

SciiOL. — In the Scholium to Proposition 17 I have explained the reasons why error consists in a priva- tion of knowledge. But for the better elucidation of this matter I shall here adduce, as an example, the fact that men deceive themselves when they suppose they are free. But this opinion consists in this alone : — that they are conscious of their actions, but ignorant of the causes which determine them. The idea of freedom, therefore, comes of men not know- ing the cause of their actions ; for to say that human actions depend on the is to use language to

which no idea is attached. For what lolll is and how it moves the body no one knows ; and they who tell us that the imll is the seat and habitation of the soul, either move us to laughter or excite our dis- gust. Thus, when we look at the sun we may ima- gine, perhaps, that it is only some few hundred paces distant from us — an error which does not consist solely in imagining such a distance, but in this : that at the moment of imagining it we are ignorant of the true distance and of the cause of our imagination. For afterwards, and when we know that the sun is much more than six hundred terrestrial diameters distant from us, we, nevertheless, continue to imagine it to be quite near ; for we do not imagine the sun’s

OS spi:noza’s

]>roximity to us because we are ignoiant of its true distance, but because tlie affection of our body in- volves the essence of the sun in so far only as our body is affected by it.

PROP. XXXYI. — Inadequate and (‘onfnsed ideas follow by the same necessity as do adequate or clear and distinct ideas.

De3[Oxstk. — All ideas are in God (by Prop. 15, Part I.), and in so far as they are referred to God they are true (by Prop. 32) and adequate (by Coroll, to Prop. 7). Ideas, therefore, are not inadequate or confused save only in so far as they are referred to some individual soul {;^ide Props. 24 and 28). Con- sequently all ideas, whether adequate or inadequate, follow by the same necessity [ride Coroll, to Prop. 6). Q. E. D.

l^ROP. XXXYII. — That which is coininon to all things (for this rh/c^Leinina 2 above), and Avliieli is equally in a part as in the whole, does not constitute the essence of any j^^irtieular thing.

Demoxstu. — If this be denied, conceive, if it be possible, that this common property constitutes the essence of some i:)articular thing — say the essence of B. Then, without B, this common jmoperty could neither be nor be conceived to be (b}" Def. 2). But this is against the hypothesis. Therefore it does not belong to the essence of B, neither does it constitute the essence of any other particular thing, q. e. d.

l*ROP. XXXYIII. — That which is coniinon to all things, and which is equally in a x^art

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99

as ill tlie whole, can only he conceived ade(|nately.

1) e:\ioxstp. — Let A be something which is common to all bodies, and which is equally in a part as in the whole of each body ; — I say then that A can only be conceived adequately. For the idea of A Avill neces- sarily be adequate in God (by Coioll. to Prop. 7) both in so far as God has an idea of the human body and also ideas of its affections, which (by Props. 10,

2d, and 27) partially involve the nature of the human

bodv as well as of external bodies ; — in other words ^

(by Props. 12 and 13), the idea A will necessarily be

adequate in God in so far as God constitutes the

human soul or has ideas Avliich are in the human

soul. The soul therefore (by Coroll, to Prop. 11)

necessarily perceives A adequately ; and this it does

in so far as it perceives itself, its own body, or any

external body nor can A be conceived in any other

manner. (^ e. d.

Cop.OLL. — Hence it follows that there are some ideas or notions common to all men. For (by Lemma 2) all bodies agree in some things, which (bv preceding Prop.) must be perceived adequately, or clearly and distinctly, by every one.

PKOP. XXXIX. — That which is common and proper to the limnan body and to certain external bodies by which the human body is wont to be affected, and wliicli is equally in eacli of the parts as well as in tlie whole of each of these bodies, the soul will have an adequate idea of.

Demoxstu. — Let A be that Avhich is common and

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])roper to tlie luiman body and to certain external bodies, and which is alike present in both, and wliicli, tinall}^ is equally present in a part as in the whole of each external body : then Avill there be in God an adequate idea of A (by Coroll, to Prop. 7), both in so far as God has an idea of the human body and ideas of the external bodies in question. Let us now su im- pose the human body to be affected by an external body through that which it has in common with it, namely, A ; then the idea of this affection will in- volve the property of A (by Prop. 16) ; and conse- quently (by same Coroll, to Prop. 7) the idea of this affection, in so far as it involves the property of A, will be adequate in God in so far as God is affected hy the idea of the human body ; that is (by Prop. 13), in so far as God constitutes the nature of the human soul ; therefore (by Coroll, to Prox). 11) this idea is also adequate in the human soul. q. e. d.

ConoLL. — Hence it follows that the soul is the more apt to perceive a greater number of things adequately according as its body has more things in common with other bodies.

PROP. XL. — Whatsoever ideas follow in the soul from ideas which are themselves adequate, arc also adequate.

Demoxstu. — This is obvious. For when we say that in the human soul an idea follows from ideas that are themselves adequate in it, we say nothing more (by Coroll, to Prop. 11) than that there is pre- sent in the Divine intelligence an idea of which God is the cause, not as God is infinite, nor as affected by the ideas of many individual things, but only- in so

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far as God constitutes tlie essence of tlie human soul.

SciiOL. 1. — I have explained the causes of the notions that are called common and which are the fundamentals of onr reasonings. But other causes of certain axioms or notions are assigned, which it seems desirable to explain by this onr method ; for then it will be seen what notions are more useful than others, and what are of scarcely any use at all ; also, which of them are common, and which of them are clear and distinct to those only who are free from prejudices; and, finally, which of them are ill- founded. Besides this, the origin of those notions Avhich are called secondary ^ and consequently of the axioms founded upon them, will be made to api3ear ; and several other things concerning Avhich I have occasionally medilated. But as I intend to discuss these in another treatise, and fearing to displease the fastidious by too great prolixity, I have decided to pass the subject by for the present. HoweAxr, and that I may not seem to omit here anything that Avas necessary to be knoAvn, I shall brielly mention the causes from AAdiich such transcendental terms as Entity, Thing, Something, have derived their origin. These terms, then, have originated in this : that the human body, because limited, is only capable of forming to itself distinct images of things AAdthin cer- tain limits as to number at any one time. (What an image is I have explained in the Schol. to Prop. 17.) If this limit as to number is exceeded, the images begin to be confused ; and if it is greatly exceeded, then they all become comj)letely confounded together. That this should be so appears from the Coroll, to Prop. 17, and by Prop. 18, Avherein it is shoAvn that the human mind or soul is only capable of imagining

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siiimltaneously and with distinctness so many bodies as there can be images simnltaneonsl}" formed in the ])ody. Bnt when the images in the body are com- pletely confounded together, then the mind will also imagine all bodies confusedly and without distinc- tion, and will comprehend them under a single attri- bute as it were, namely, under the attribute of Entity, Thing, etc. This may also be inferred from the fact that images do not always present themselves to us Avith equal force ; and also from other analogous causes which there is no need to explain here, since Avith the object Ave have in vieAv it Avill be enough if Ave consider one only. All of them, indeed, lead to the conclusion that such terms signify ideas confused to the last degree. It is, further, from like causes that the notions called iinixersal, such as Man, - Horse, Dog, etc., have arisen. That is to say, so many images — ex. gr. of men — are formed simulta- neously in the human body that they exceed the power of imagining, if not AAdiolly, yet to such an extent that the particular minor differences of each man (such as complexion, stature, etc.), as AA^ell as the exact number of men, cannot be imagined Ih' the soul ; and that only in Avhich they all agree, in so far as they affect the body, is imagined distinctly. The body, indeed, is chiefly affected by each individual man, but the affection is expressed by the term onen^ a Avord by A\diich. through our inability to imagine any deffnite number of individuals, aa^o predicate an inffnity of them. It is to be observed, hoAvever, that these notions are not formed by all men in the same AA^ay, but vary in each one according as the body has been frequently affected, and as the soul imagines or recollects Avith facility. For example, they AAdio have usually contemplated man Avith admiration

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for liis stature, understand by the word man an animal with an erect body ; and they who have usually contemplated him under some other charac- teristic, form some other common image of him, as, for instance, a laughing animal, a two-legged animal, one without feathers, a rational animal, etc., — and so each one, according to his bodily disposition, forms for himself universal images of things. It is no wonder, therefore, that so many controversies should have arisen among the philosophers who have sought to explain natural things by their images alone.

SciioL. 2. — From all that has been said above it clearly appears that we perceive many things and form universal notions: 1st, from singular or indi- vidual things altered to us by our senses and repre- sented confusedly and Avithout order to the under- standing {mde Coroll, to Pro^i. 29). Such percep- tions, therefore, I am accustomed -to designate as knowledge from vacfue experience. 2nd, from signs ; ex. gr. because from certain Avords Avhich Ave hear or read Ave remember things and form certain ideas of the Avords like to those by Avhich Ave imagine the things themselves {pide Schol. to Proju 18). Both of these modes of contemplating things I shall hereafter ciiW Jinoicledge of the Jirst land — as opinion or ima- gination. 3rd, and lastly, as AA^e have common notions and adequate ideas of the properties of things {ride Coroll, to Prop. 38 and Prop. 39 and its Coroll., and this Prop. 40), I shall speak of these as reason, and Jcnowledge of the second Idnd.

Besides these tAvo kinds of knoAAiedge there is a third, as Avill be presently shoAAUi, Avhich 1 shall call intuitire. This kind proceeds from tlie adequate idea of the formal essence of some of the attributes

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of God to the adequate knowledge of the essence of things. All of Avliich I shall illustrate by a single example: — given three numbers, to hud a fourth which shall be to the third as the second is to the lirst. Merchants do not liesitate to multiply the second number by the third and divide the product by the first, — and this they do because they have not forgotten what they learned from their teachers with- out any demonstration, or because they have often made use of this rule and found it to hold good in calculations with simple numbers, or in virtue of the demonstration of the 19th Prop, of the 7th book of Euclid, viz., from the common property of pro- portionals. But in calculations made with the simplest numbers no such procedure is required ; for if the numerals 1, 2, 3 be given, Avho does not see that the fourth proportional number must be 6? and this much more clearly, because from the proportion which we see the second bears to the lirst we in- tuitively conclude as to the fourth.

PKOP. XLI. — Knowledge of the first kind is the sole cause of falsity, as that of the second and third kinds is necessarily true.

Demoxstr. — In the preceding Scholium we have said that all those ideas that are inadequate or con- fused pertain to knoAviedge of the first kind ; con- sequently (by Prop. 35) knoAvledge of this kind is the sole cause of falsity. We have further said, that adequate ideas pertain to kiiOAAdedge of the second and third kinds, and consequently (by Proj). 34) knoAv- ledge of these kinds is necessarily true. q. e. n.

PKOP. XLII. — It is knoAvlcdge of the second and third kinds, and not of the first, that

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teaches ns to distinguish the true from the false.

Demoxstp.. — This Proposition is self-evident. For whoever knows how to distinguish between the true and the false, must liave an adequate idea of that which is true and of that which is false ; i.e. (by Schol. 2 to Prop. 40), he must know tlie true and the false by the second and third kinds of knowledge.

PROP. XLIII. — He who has a true idea knows « at the same time that lie has a true idea, and cannot doubt of the truth of the thing.

Demoxstr. — The true idea in ns is that which is in God, in so far as God is expressed by the nature of the human soul, and it is adequate (by Coroll, to Prop. 11). Let ns suppose then that in God, in so far as God is expressed by the nature of the liuinan soul, there is the adequate idea A. TJie idea of this idea must also necessarily be in God, as it is referred to God in the same wa}^ as the idea A (by Prop. 20, the demonstration of which is universal). But the idea A is supposed to be referred to God in so far as God is expressed by the nature of the human soul ; therefore the idea of the idea A is also and in the same way referred to God ; that is (by the same Coroll, to Prop. 11), this adequate idea of the idea A will be present in the soul that possesses the adequate idea A ; so that he who has an adequate idea of or (by Prop. 34) truly knows a thing, m nst at the same time have an adequate idea that he knows it, and that he knows it truly ; that is (and this is self-mani- fest), he must at the same time be certain of it. Q. e. d.

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SciioL. — In the Scliolium to Prop. 21, I have ex- plained what an idea of an idea is. The preceding- proposition, however, is sufficiently manifest of itself, inasmuch as no one who lias a true idea is ignorant that a true idea involves the highest certainty. For to have a true idea signifies nothing less than to know a thing perfectly well ; nor, indeed, can any one doubt of this unless he thinks that an idea is something mute, like a painting on a panel, and not a mode of thought — not the understanding itself. And I ask, who can know that he understands a thing unless he first understands it? — in other words, who can know that he is certain of a thing unless he is first certain of it ? Further, what sign of truth can there be more clear and certain than a true idea ? Surel}^ as the light makes manifest both itself and the darkness, so does truth reveal both itself and that which is false.

In what precedes I think I have also replied to such questions as these, namely : if a true idea is dis- tinguished from a false one only in so far as it is said, to agree with its object, it cannot therefore have more of reality or perfection than a false idea has (seeing that the one is distinguished from the other solely by an extrinsic denomination), — and consequently a man who has true ideas cannot be distinguished from one who has false ideas. Hoav is it, then, that men have false ideas ? And further, how can any one know for certain that he has ideas which agree with their ideates ? To these questions, I say, I think I have already replied. For as to what relates to the difference between a true and a false idea, it appears from Prop. 3o that the one is to the other as being or entity is to non-entity ; — and from Proposition 19 to 35 with its Scholium, I have clearly shown the causes

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of falsity. Fiom all of wliicli it is apparent liow a man who has true ideas is distingnislied from one who lias false ideas. With reference to the last point, namely : as to how a man can know that he has an idea which agrees with its ideate or object, I have more than sufficiently shown that ‘it apyiears l)y this alone — that he has such an idea as agrees with its object ; in other words, that truth is its own sign. Add to this, that our soul, in so far as it perceives things truly, is a part of the infinite understanding of Cxod (by Coroll, to Prop. 11), and therefore it is as necessary that the clear and distinct ideas of the soul should be true as that the ideas of God are true.

PROP. XLIV. — It is in the nature of Reason to contemplate things not as contingent, but as necessary.

Demoxstil— It is in the nature of reason to per- ceive things truly (by Prop. 41), that is, as they are in themselves (by Ax. 6, Part I. ) ; in other words (by Prop. 29, Part I.), not as contingent, but as neces- sary. Q. E. D.

CoKOLL. 1. — Hence it follows, that it depends sole- ly on the imagination when Ave contemplate things as contingent, AAdiether this be in respect of the past or the future.

SciiOL. — The reason of this I shall briefly explain. AVe have seen above {tide Prop. 17 Avith its Coroll.) that the mind apA^ays imagines things as present to it even AAdien they are non-existenf, unless causes occur to seclude or exclude their present existence. AVe next saAv (Pj op. 18) that if the human ])ody has once been aff|cted sinmltaneonsly by tAvo external bodies, Avhenever the soul subsequently imagined one of

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them it immediately recalled the other also ; that is, it contemplated both of them as being present unless causes occurred which excluded their present exis- tence. Moreover, no one doubts that we imagine thnelYom this, namely: that bodies are imagined to move some faster and some slower than others, and some with equal celerity. Let ns suppose, therefore, that a yonth saw yesterday for the lirst time, in the morning Peter, at noon Paul, and in the evening Simeon ; and this morning again saw Peter for the second time. It is obvious, from Prop. 18, that sl- mnltaneonsly with the morning light he rvill also see the snn xmrsning the same course in the heavens as he saw it on the preceding day; afterwards he will imagine the day as a whole, and at the same time with the morning he will be apt to imagine Peter, rvith the noon Paul, and with the evening Simeon ; that is, he will imagine the existence of Panl and Simeon with relation to a time to come ; and on the other hand, seeing Simeon in the evening, he will connect the existence of Panl and Peter with a time past, and will imagine both of them simnltaneonsly in con- nection with it ; and this the more assuredly the oftener these three persons are seen by him in the same order. But if it sometimes happens that in- stead of seeing Simeon in the evening he sees James, then will he subsequently connect with the evening, now Simeon, and now James, but not the two as pres- ent at one and the same time ; for we have supposed one or the other only, and not both of them at once to have been seen in the evening. The imagination of the yonth will therefore tlnctnate, and in the fu- ture he will imagine now Simeon, norv James, joined with evening hours, but neitlier of them rvitli cer- tainty ; so that thenceforAvard each of them rvill be

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contemiilated contingently. And there is the same linctnation of the imagination Avhether the things imagined in this way are contemplated with relation to time past or present, and consequently things imagined with relation to tiine past, itresent, or future, will be regarded as contingent.

CoKOLL. 2. — It is in the nature of Reason to per- ceive tilings under a certain form or species of eter- nity.

Demoxstr. — For it is in the nature of reason to ('ontemplate things as necessary, and not as contin- gent (by preceding Prop.) Now reason perceives this necessit}^ of things as true (by Prop. 41), — that is to say (by Ax. 6, Part I.), it perceives things as they are in themselves. But (by Prop. 16, Part I.) this necessity of things is itself the very necessity of the eternal nature of God. Therefore it is in the nature of reason to contemplate things under a species or form of eternity. Add to this, that the funda- mentals of reason are (by Prop. 38) those notions which explain Avliat is common to all things, but which (by Prop. 37) do not explain the essence of any individual thing ; notions, therefore, which must be conceived without any relation to time and under a certain form of eternity. Q. e. d.

l^ROP. XLV. — Every idea of every actually existing individual body or thing neces- sarily involves the eternal and infinite essence of God.

T)e3ioxstr. — The idea of an actually existing indi- vidual thing necessarily involves both the essence and existence of that thing (by Coroll, to Prop. 8). But individual things cannot (by Prop. 15, Part I.) be con-

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ceived without God ; and as (by Prop. 0) .they have God for their cause in so far as God is considered under an attribute whei'eof the things themselves are modes, the ideas of these things must (by Ax. 4, Part I.), necessarily involve the conception of that attri- l)ute •, that is (by Def. 6, Part I.), they must involve the eternal and infinite essence of God. q. e. d.

SciioL. — By existence I do not here understand duration, that is, existence abstractly conceived and as a certain kind or species of quantity. But I speak of the very nature of the existence which is assigned to individual things, — of existence by reason of which infinities follow in infinite modes from the eternal necessity of the nature of God. ( Vide Prop. 16, Part I.) I speak, I say, of the veiy existence of individual things in so far as they are in God. For although each of them is determined by some other individual thing to exist in a certain manner, yet the force by which each perseveres in its existence follows from the eternal necessity of the nature of God. On this ])oint see Coroll, to Prop. 24, Part I.

I^ROP. XLYI. — The knowledge or cognition of the eternal and infinite essence of God wliicli every idea involves, is adequate and perfect.

Demoxstu. — The demonstration of the preceding proposition is universal ; and whether a thing be considered as a part or as a whole, the idea of that thing, whether as a part or as a whole, involves the eternal and infinite essence of God (by preceding Prop.) Wherefore that which gives a cognition or knowledge of the eternal and infinite essence of God is common to all things, and is equally in a part as

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Ill

in tlie whole ; and so (by Prop. 38) such knowledge is adequate. Q. e. d.

PKOP. XLYII. — The limnaii soul has an ade- quate kiiOAvledge or cognition of the eternal and intinite essence of God.

Demoxstr. — The human soul has ideas (Prop. 22) by which (Prop. 23) it perceives itself, its own ])ody (by Prop. 19), and (by Coroll, to Prop. 16, and by Pgop. 17) actually existing external ])odies ; there- fore (by Props. 4d and 46) it has an adequate know- ledge of the eternal and intinite essence of God. Q. E. n.

ScjiOL. — Hence we see that the intinite essence and the eternity of God are known to all men. But as- all things are in God and are conceived through God, it follows that from this knowledge we derive most of all that we know adequately, and so it forms the third kind of knowledge of which we have spoken in Scholium 2 to Prop. 40, and of the superiority and usefulness of which we shall have occasion to speak in our Fifth Part. The reason, however, why men have not equally as clear a knowledge of God as of common notions, proceeds from this : that they can- not imagine God as they do bodies, and because they have associated the name of God with the images of things they are accustomed to see, — a habit men can scarcely avoid because they are continually affected by external bodies. Many errors, indeed, consist solely in this : that names are not rightly applied to things. If any one should say that the lines drawn from the centre of a circle to its circumference were unequal, he certainly would understand by a circle something quite different from what mathematicians

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do. So when men make mistakes in arithmetical calculations, they have other numbers in their minds than those on the paper before them. Wherefore, if we regard only their minds, they do not really err ; and yet the}^ seem to err, because they think they have in their minds the same numbers as they have on their paper. Were this not so we should not be- lieve that they erred ; — as I did not believe that a cer- tain person erred whom not long ago I heard exclaim- ing, ‘ My yard {atrium) has tiown into my neighbor s fowls,’ for I thought I perfectl}^ understood what he meant to say. And it is because men have not rightly expressed their meaning, or have wrongly interpreted the meanings of others, that so many con- troversies have arisen. For in contradicting one another they either think alike or they think dif- ferently, so that the errors and absurdities which they impute to each other very often have no exist- ence in fact.

PEOP. XLYIII. — In the soul there is no such thing as absolute or free will, but tlie soul is determined to will this or that by a cause which is itself determined by another cause, and that again by another, and so on to infinity.

Bemoxstr. — The soul is a certain and determinate mode of thought (by Prop. 11), and therefore (by Coroll. 2 to Proj:). 17, Part I.) it cannot itself be the free cause of its own actions ; in other Avords, it can- not possess any absolute faculty of Avilling or of not Avilling, but (by Prop. 28, Part I.) must be determined

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to will this or that by a cause which is itself deter- mined by another cause, and that again by another, etc. Q. E. D.

SciiOL. — In the same way it may be demonsti’ated that in the soul there is no absolute faculty of under- standing, of desiring, of loving, etc. Whence it fol- lows that these and similar faculties are either wholly llctitious or represent nothing but metaphysical enti- ties or universals which we are accustomed to form from joarticular things ; so that understanding and will have the same relation to this or that idea, this or that volition, as stoniness has to this or that stone, or as mankind has to Peter or Paul. But we have already explained the reason why men believe they are free, in the Appendix to Part I.

Before proceeding further, however, it should be observed here that by will I understand the power not the desire of affirming or denying ; I say I under- stand by will the poieer by which the soul affirms or denies what is true or false, and not the desire by which the soul has an appetite or an aversion for things. But since we have demonstrated that these faculties are universal notions which are not distin- guished from the particulars from which they are formed, we have now to inquire whether volitions are themselves anything more than ideas of things. We have to inquire, I say, whether there is in the soul any affirmation or negation except that which an idea as idea involves ; — and on this point see the next Proposition and also Definition 3, lest thought should pass for a mere picture or image of things ; for by ideas I do not understand images such as are formed on the retina of the eye, or, if you please, in the middle of the brain, but conceptions of thought.

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PEOP. XLIX. — In the soul there is no voli- tion, that is to say, no affiimation or ne- gation, other than that which idea, as idea, involves. ’ $

Demot^ste. — In the soul (by preceding Prop.) there is no absolute faculty of willing and not willing, but only particular volitions, namely, this or that affirm- ation, this or that negation. Let ns now conceive some particular volition, i.e. some mode of thought — such, for instance, as that in which the soul affirms that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right-angles. This affirmation involves the concept or idea of a triangle ; that is, it cannot be conceived without the idea of a triangle. For if I say that A involves the conception of B, it is the same thing as if I said that A cannot be conceived without B. And, further (by Ax. 3), such an affirmation cannot be made without the idea of a triangle. Therefore, without the idea of a triangle this affirmation can neither be nor be conceived to be. Moreover, this idea of a triangle must also involve this affirmation, namely : that the sum of its three angles are equal to two right-angles. Wherefore the idea of a triangle, can neither be nor be conceived to be without this affirmation, and vice versa ; and so (by Def . 2) this affirmation belongs to and is nothing more than the assertion of the essence of the triangle. What we have now said of this particular volition — (seeing that we assumed it, as we might have assumed any other) is to be said of every volition whatsoever, namely — that it is nothing but an idea. q. e. d.

CoKOLL. — Will and understanding are one and the same thing.

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Demoxstr. — Will and understanding are them- selves nothing but particular volitions and ideas (by Prop. 48 and its Schol.). But a particular volition and idea (by preceding Prop.) are one and the same thing ; therefore will and understanding are one and the same thing. Q. e. h.

Schol. — In what has been said above we have ex j)osed and removed that which is a common cause of error. We have also shown that falsity consists solely in the privation of knowledge involved in mutilated and confused ideas. Wherefore a false idea, in so far as it is false, does not involve certainty. So that when we say a man acquiesces in error or falsehood, or belie\"es it without a doubt, we do not say so be- cause he is certain of it, but only because he does not doubt, or because he acquiesces in the falsehood, — there being no cause which makes his imagination fluctuate or waver. On this point see the Schol. to Prop. 44. However much therefore a man may be supposed to adhere to error or untruth, we never say that he is certain of it ; for by certainty we under- stand something positive {vide Prop. 43, and its Schol.), and not a mere privation or absence of doubt, for by the want of certainty possible falsity is im- plied. For the more complete explanation of the pre- ceding proposition, however, there still remains some- thing to be said. When I have done this I shall then reply to the objections that may be made to my doc- trine ; and. Anally, that 1 may remove every scruple to its acceptance, it will not be out of place to point out some of the useful applications of it, — I say some^ — for most of these will be better understood by what will be said in my Fifth Part.

In the first place then, I begin by admxonishing my readers that they should accurately distinguish be

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tween an idea or conception of tlie sonl and the images of the things they imagine. And further, that it is necessary to distinguish between ideas and the words by which things are signilied. For these three, viz., images, words, and ideas, are entirely confounded by many, or are not distingnished Avith sufficient care and accuracy ; and it is because of this that the doc- trine of the ^o^7Z, which is so necessary to b^ under- stood,— both as regards speculation and a wise conduct of life, — is almost AAffiolly unknown. For they aaIio think that ideas consist in images formed in ns by the concurrence of bodies, persuade themselves that those ideas of things of which we can form no similar images are not ideas, but only fictions Avhich AA^e form to our- selves by the decision of a free AA’ill ; these persons, therefore, regard such ideas as mute pictures upon a lianel or cauAms, and being preoccupied by this preju- dice they do not see that an idea, as idea, invoAes either affirmation or negation. Further, they Avho confound a AA^ord AAuth an idea, or AAfith the affirmation AAdiich an idea involves, think they can oppose their AA^ill against that which they perceive, AAdien in AA^ords merely they affirm or deny that Avhich they perceiA’e. He, hoAAxver, easily divests himself of these preju- dices AAdio gives attention to the nature of thought, AAdiich in no AAdse involves the conception of exten- sion ; for he Avill then clearly comxirehend that an idea (in so far as it is a mode of thought) consists neither in the image of a thing, nor in the Avords used to signify it ; for the essence of Avords and images is constituted solely by corporeal motions, which in no way involve the conceptions of thought.

These feAv observations, by Avay of admonition, are sufficient ; and I pass noAv to the objections I have foreseen. T\iq first of these rests upon the presnmp-

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tion that will is of wider scope than understanding, and is therefore different from it. But the reason why will is supposed to be of wider scoiDe than un- derstanding is this: that experience shows that no greater faculty is required to assent to or affirm or deny an infinity of things that are not objects of per- ception than that which men now possess ; but that they require a greater faculty of understanding. The will here, therefore, is distinguished from the under- standing in this : that it is regarded as infinite, whilst the understanding is regarded as finite only. In the second place, it may be objected to onr doctrine : that experience seems to teach nothing more clearly than that we can suspend onr judgment and not assent to everything we perceive, — a conclusion which is further confirmed by the fact that no one is said to be de- ceived in so far as he perceives anything, but only in so far as he assents to or dissents from it. For exam- ple, he who imagines a horse with wings does not thereby concede that there is a horse with wings ; ^.e., he is not deceived if he does not at the same time concede that there is a horse with wings. Experience, therefore, seems to teach nothing more clearly than that will or the faculty of assenting is free, and dis- tinct from the faculty of understanding.

A third objection that may be made is : that one af- firmation does not appear to contain more of reality than another ; that is to say, it does not seem to re- quire any greater power to affirm as true that which is true, than it does to affirm as true that which is false. We do, however, perceive that the one idea has more of reality or perfection than the other, for even as some objects are more perfect than others, so and in the same measure are the ideas of these objects more perfect than the ideas of the others ; and here-

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by the difference between will and understanding aj)- pears still further to be manifest.

A fourth objection that may be made is : that if a man does not act from freedom of will, what would happen to him if he were in a state of equilibrium like the ass of Buridanus % Would he perish of hun- ger and thirst \ If I concede that he would, then do I seem to conceive an ass indeed, or only the statue of a man, and not a human being ; but if I deny it, then will the man determine his own actions, and conse- quently possess the faculty of moving and doing what he wills.

Besides these there may perchance be other ob- jections urged ; but as I do not feel obliged to meet all that every one may possibly dream of by way of objection, I reply only, and as briefly as possible, to those which I have specifled above. To firsts then, I say that I concede that will is of wider scope than understanding, if by understanding clear and distinct ideas only are meant or understood ; but I deny that will is of more extended scope than perception or the faculty of conceiving. Nor, indeed, do I see why the faculty of will can be said to be inflnite any more than the faculty of feeling or perception : for as we can affirm infinities (one after another, however, for we cannot affirm infinities simultaneously) by the same faculty of willing, so can we affirm an infinity of bodies (one after another) by the same faculty of perceiving. But if it be said that there are infinities which we can- not perceive, I reply that we can then apprehend these by no faculty of thought, and consequently by no faculty of will. But it may be said ; if God had willed that we should also perceive these, then would God have had to give us a greater faculty of percep- tion, indeed, but not a greater faculty of willing than

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that we are already endowed with. But this would be the same as saying that if Grod had willed that we should understand an infinity of other beings, it would have been necessary to have given us a greater understanding but not a more universal idea of being than has already been bestowed upon us, in order to enable us to apprehend these infinite existences ; for we have shown that will is an universal entity or idea by which we explain all individual volitions ; that is to say, everything that is common to all of them. If, therefore, all these common volitions, these universal ideas, are believed to be a faculty, it is no wonder that will should be said to extend itself beyond the limits of understanding to infinity ; for universality may be equally asserted of one, or of many, or of an infinity of individuals.

To the second objection, I reply by denying that we have any free power of suspending our judgment. For when we say of any one that he suspends his judgment, we say nothing more than that he per- ceives that he does not adequately understand the matter to be judged. Suspension of judgment there- fore is perception^ and not free will. That we may have a clear understanding of this, let us conceive a boy imagining to himself a horse, and not perceiving anything else. As this imagination involves the existence of a horse (by Coroll, to Prop. 17), and the boy has no perception which annuls it, the horse will necessarily be contemplated as present, and he will not doubt of its existence although he is not certain of it. Something like this do we experience almost every day in our dreams ; nor do I believe there is any one who thinks that whilst he sleeps he has free power to suspend his judgment on what he dreams, or that he can bring it to pass that he will

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not dream of tlie things about which he dreams ; nevertheless, it does happen that in our dreams we sometimes suspend our judgment — for instance, when we dream that we are dreaming. Furthermore, I concede that in so far as perception is concerned no one is really deceived ; that is to say, I concede that the imaginations of the soul, considered in them- selves, involve nothing erroneous {i^ide Schol. to Prop. 17) ; but I deny that a man in so far as he perceives affirms nothing. For to perceive a winged horse, what is it but to affirm a horse witli wings? If therefore the mind perceived nothing but a winged horse, it would contemplate it as present, would have no cause to doubt of its existence, and no faculty or power of dissenting from it, were it not that to the imagination of the winged horse there is joined an idea which annuls the existence of such a horse, or which perceives that the idea which it has of a winged horse is inadequate, in which case it will necessarily either deny or doubt the existence of any such horse.

IS’ow in what precedes I think I have also replied to the third objection. For what is will but an uni- versal something which is predicated of all ideas, and which only signifies that which is common to all ideas, namely, affirmation, the adequate essence of which, in so far as it is abstractly conceived, must exist in every individual idea, and for this reason alone be the same in all ideas, but not in so far as it is considered to constitute the essence of all ideas ; for in this respect particular affirmations are as differ- ent from each other as are ideas themselves. For example, the affirmation which involves the idea of the circle differs as much from that which involves the idea of the triangle as the idea of the circle

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differs from the idea of the triangle. Furthermore, I absolutely deny that we require the same power of thought to affirm as true that which is true as we do to affirm as true that whicli is false. These two affirmations, if we regard the soul, have the same relation to each other as being has to non-entity ; for there is nothing positive in ideas which constitutes the form of falsity. {Vide Prop. 35 and its SclioL, and the Schol. to Prop. 47.) Wherefore it is to be especially noted here how easy it is to be deceived when we confound universals with singulars, and the entities or beings of reason and abstractions with realities.

Finally, as to what relates to the fourth objection, I say I fully concede that a man in such a state of equilibrium as is supposed (namely, percipient of nothing but hunger and thirst, and of such meat and such drink as are equally distant from him on either hand) would perish of hunger and thirst. If I am asked whether such a man were not to be esteemed an ass rather than a man, I answer that I do not know ; nor do I know how he is to be esti- mated who hangs himself, or how children, idiots, insane persons, etc., are to be estimated.

It now only remains for me to show how useful and salutary the recognition of this doctrine must prove in the affairs of life. This will readily appear when we consider : 1st. That it teaches ns that we act by the commands of God alone, and are participators in the Divine nature ; and that the more perfect our actions are, the more and more do we understand God. Our doctrine, therefore, besides conferring entire peace of mind has this further advantage — that it teaches us wherein our highest happiness or beatitude consists, namely — in the knowledge of God alone.

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whereby we are led to perforai those acts only that X)ersuade to piety and love. Whence we clearly un- derstand how far they are from the truth in their estimate of virtue who for virtue and good actions expect to be richly rewarded by God as for some great service done — as if virtue and the service of God were not of themselves the most perfect happi- ness and freedom. 2nd. Our doctrine further teaches us how we are to comport ourselves in respect of the things of fortune, or of those things which are not within our own power, — that is, in resj)ect of things which do not follow from our own nature ; namely — we are to bear both prosperity and adversity with like equanimit}^ of soul, seeing that all things follow from the eternal decrees of God with the same neces- sity as it follows from the essence of the triangle that the sum of its three angles is equal to two right angles. 3rd. Our doctrine is also useful in promoting the amenities of social life, inasmuch as it teaches us to hate no one, to despise no one, to ridicule no one, to be angry with no one, to envy no one ; and it teaches us, besides, that every one is to be content with his own, and helpful to his neighbor, — not out of womanly l^ity, partiality, or superstition, but under the guid- ance of reason alone and according as times and circumstances require, as I shall show in my'^ Third Part. 4th. Finally, our doctrine is of no little im- portance in connection with the State, inasmuch as it teaches in what way citizens are to be governed and led, namely — not as slaves, but as free men acting for that which is best.

Here I conclude what I had to say in this Scholium ; and here, too, I bring to a close this my Second Part, in which I think I have explained the nature of the human soul and its properties at sufficient

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length and as clearly as the difficulties of the subject X^ennitted. I trust I have also taught principles from which much that is excellent, useful, and need- ful to be known may be inferred, as will be con- firmed, in xiart at least, in what is to follow.

END OF THE SECOND PART.

ETHICS

THIED PART.

OF THE ORIGIX AXD XATUKE OF THE AFFECTIOXS OR PASSIOXS.*

PREFACE.

Most of the writers on man’s affections and the con- duct of life appear to treat not of natural things which follow the common laws of nature, but of things not included in nature. Tliey seem, indeed, to have con- ceited man as an imperium in imperio. For they believe that man rather disturbs than follows the order of nature, — that he has absolute iDOwer over his ac- tions, and that his determinations are due to him- self alone. If it is a question of the impotency and inconstancy of man they do not refer the cause of it to a common power of nature, but to some unknown vice or defect in human nature, which on that account they lament, deride, contemn, and very often exe-

* All passions are affections, but all affections are not classed as passions. Having this distinction in view, the words affection and passion are otherwise mostly used as synonymous throughout this translation. — Tr.

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crate ; and lie who is most skilful or eloquent in reviling the impotencj of the human soul is looked upon as a divinely inspired person. There has not been wanting, however, some most estimable men (for whose works and labors we are under many obliga- tions) who have written much that is most excellent on the true conduct of life, and have given to man- kind counsels full of wisdom ; but no writer, so far as I know, has yet determined the true nature and force of the affections or passions, and the power which the soul may possess to moderate and control them. I am aware that the celebrated Descartes, although he believed that the soul could have abso- lute power over its actions, yet endeavored to exiilain the human passions by their first causes, and to point out the way by which the human soul might attain an absolute dominion over them ; but, in my opinion, he has only succeeded in exhibiting his own great ingenuity and acumen, as I shall show in the proper place. Here I restrict myself to speak only of those who are more disposed to execrate and revile the ac- tions and passions of men than to understand them. To such persons it will no doubt appear strange that I should undertake to treat of the vices and follies of mankind after the manner of geometricians, and seek to demonstrate according to certain principles things which they loudly declare to be repugnant to reason, vain, absurd, and horrible. Yet such is my purpose ; for in my view nothing happens that can be attributed to a vice or defect in nature, for nature is always the same, — everywhere it is one, everywhere it has the same virtue and power of action ; in other words, the laws and ordinances of nature, in accordance with which all things come to pass, and change from one form into another, are always and everywhere the

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same, and consequently all tilings, whatsoever they may be, must be explained and understood by one and the same method, — namely, by the universal laws and ordinances of nature. Such affections, therefore, as hate, anger, envy, etc., considered in themselves, result by the same necessity and power of nature as other particular things, and consequently they have certain determined causes by which they are under- stood, and certain jiroperties quite as worthy to be considered as the properties of any other things, the mere contemplation of which delights us. I shall therefore treat of the nature and force of the affec- tions, and of the power of the soul over them, in the same Avayas I have treated of God and of the Soul, in the preceding Parts, and shall investigate human actions and appetites just as if it Avere a question of lines, planes, and solids.

DEFINITIOJS^S.

I. I call that an adequate cause the effect of AAdiich can be clearly and distinctly perceh^ed through that cause ; and I call that an inadequate or qmrtial cause the effect of which cannot be understood through tliat cause alone.

II. When something happens Avithin or out of our- seh^es of AAdiich we are the adequate cause ; that is (by preceding Def.), AAdien something AAdthin or out of our- selves results from our nature, and through it alone can be clearly and distinctly understood, I say then that Ave act. When, on the contrary, something hap- pens AAdthin us or results from our nature, of AAdiich Ave ourselves are not the cause, or only partially the cause, I say then that AA^e suffer (or are acted upon).

III. By affections or loassions I understand those

PAET III.— OF THE AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS. 127

affections of tlie body wliicli augment or diminisli, favor or hinder its power of action ; and I also under- stand at the same time the ideas of those affections.

Explanation. If, therefore, we ourselves can be the adequate cause of any of these affections, then by affection I understand an action ; otherwise a

POSTULATES.

I. The human body can be affected in many modes by which its power of acting is augmented or dimi- nished, and also in other modes by which its power of acting is made neither greater nor less.

This Postulate or Axiom is based on Postulate 1 and Lemmas 5 and 7 which will be found after Prop, 13, Part II.

II. The human body can undergo many changes, and nevertheless retain the impressions or traces of things {mde Post. 5, Part II.), and consequently images of them (for Def. mde Schol. to Prop. 17, Part II.).

PEOPOSITIOXS.

PPOP. I. — Out mind or soul in certain cases acts, and in certain cases suffers (or is acted on) ; namely : in so far as it has adequate ideas in so far does it necessarily act ; and in so far as it has inadequate ideas in so far does it necessarily suffer.

Demonstr. — In every human soul some ideas are adequate, and others are imperfect and confused (by Schol. to Prop. 40, Part II.). But ideas that are ade- quate in the soul of any one are adequate in God,

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inasmuch as God constitutes the essence of the soul (by Coroll, to Prop. 11, Part II.); and those, again, which are inadequate in the soul are still adequate in God (by same Coroll.), not indeed in so far as the essence of that particular soul alone is concerned, but as God also includes at the same time the souls of other things. Further, from every given idea some effect must necessarily follow (by Prop. 36, Part I.), of which effect God is the adequate cause {vide Def. 1), not as God is infinite, but considered as affected by the given idea {vide Prop. 9, Part II.). But the same effect of which God as affected by an idea that is adequate in any particu- lar soul is the cause, that soul is also the adequate cause of (Coroll, to Prop. 11, Part II.). Therefore our soul, in so far as it has adequate ideas, must (by Def. 2) necessarily act in certain ways. This is the first point. Again, whatever effect necessarily follows from an idea that is adequate in God, not as God includes the soul of some one j)articular man only, but also along with that particular soul the souls of other things, — of every such effect I say that the soul of that particular man is not an adequate, but only a partial cause (by same Coroll, to Prop 11, Part II.) ; and consequently (by Def. 2) the soul in so far as it has inadequate ideas necessarily suffers in certain ways. This is the second point. Therefore our soul in certain cases acts, and in certain cases suffers.

Q. E. D.

Coroll. — Hence it follows that the greater the number of inadequate ideas which the soul possesses, the greater is the number of passions to which it is obnoxious ; and on the contrary, the greater the num- ber of adequate ideas it possesses, the greater is its power of action.’

PAllT III. — OF THE AFFECTIOXS OR PASSIONS. 129

PEOP. II. — The body cannot determine the sonl to tlionght, nor can the sonl determine the body to motion or rest, or to anything* else (if there be anything else).

Demoxstr. — All modes of thought have Ctod for their cause in so far as God is considered as the Thing Thinking, and not as God is revealed or explained by some other attribute (by Prop. 6, Part IL) ; that, therefore, which determines the sonl to think is a mode of thought, and not a mode of extension ; in other words (by Def. 1, Part II.), it is not the body. ^

This is the first point. Agaia, the motion or rest of the body must proceed from another body, which was itself determined to motion or rest by another body ; and absolntel}" whatever is produced in the body must proceed from God in so far considered as af- fected by some mode of extension, and not by some mode of thought (by same Prop. 6, Part II.) ; in other words (by Proii. 11, Part II.), motion and rest cannot proceed from the mind or soul, wliich is a mode of thought. This is the second point. There- fore the body cannot determine, etc. q. e. d.

SciiOL. — This will be more clearly understood by what has been said in the Scholium to Prop. 7, Part II., viz. : that the soul and body are one and the same- thing, conceived now under the attribute of thought,, and now under that of extension. Whence it comes tliat the order or concatenation of things is one and the same under whatever attribute nature is con- ceived ; and consequently that the order of the actions and passions of the body, and the order of the actions- and passions of the soul, are simultaneous in nature.

This is also made plain in the demonstration of Prop..

12, Part IL

9

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But however strong these proofs may be, and al- though there should remain no reason to doubt them, yet I can scarcely believe that men will be induced to ponder them carefully unless I conlirm them by ex- perience, so firmly are they persuaded that it is by the will of the soul alone that the body is put now in motion and now at rest, and, in short, that it does a great many things whicli depend strictly upon the volitions of the soul and its power of thinking. Xo one, however, has as yet shown by exj)eriment what the body can do solely by the laws of corx)oreal na- ture, in so far as the body only is considered ; and what it cannot do without being determined thereto by the soul. For no one has ^^et acquired such an accurate knowledge of the structure of the human bod}’ as to be able to explain all its functions ; — and iiere I say nothing of the many things observed in the lower animals and which far exceed human sa- gacity, nor of the things somnambulists do in, their sleep which they would not dare to attempt when .awake, and which sIioav plainly enough that the body by the laws of its nature alone can do many things which are a matter of astonishment to the soul. Moreover, no one yet knows in what way and by what means the soul moves the body, nor how many degrees of motion it can give to it, nor with what rapidity it can move it. Whence it follows thativlien men say that this or that action is produced by the soul which has dominion over the body, they really do not know what they are talking about, and are only confessing in terms flattering to their vanity, .that they are ignorant of the true cause of the bodily actions which surprise and astonish them. But they may say, that whether they do or do not knoAv by what means the soul moves the body, they neverthe-

PART III.— OF THE AFFECTIOXS OR PASSIOXS. 131

less know experience that unless the human soul Avas capable of thinking the body would be inert ; and farther, that experience teaches them also that it is in the power of the soul alone to speak or to be si- lent, and to do or abstain from doing many other things Avliich, consequently, they believe must de- pend entirely on decisions of the soul.

But, as regards the first iioint, I ask whether expe- rience does not also teacli that the mind or soul is powerless to think when the body is in a state of in- ertia ? For when the body lies sunk in slee]i the mind slumbers at the same time, and has not tlie jiower of thinking AAdiich it has Avhen aivake. Further, I believe that all exiierience teaches us that the mind is not at all times equally apt or fit for thinking on the same subject, but that in the degree that the mind is more or less apt to have images of this or that object excited in it, so is it more or less apt for the contemplation of this or that subject.

But it may be said that, in so far as the body only is considered, it Avonld be impossible to deduce solely from the laAvs of corporeal nature the causes of edi- fices, paintings, and all things of the kind Avhicli aie the work of human art alone ; and that the human body, unless it ivas moved and determined by the soul, would be incapable of constructing a temple, or any other edifice. But I have already shown that they Avho speak thus, do not know of what the body is capable, nor what can be deduced from the consid- eration of its nature alone ; and that they themselves must have had experience of many things accom- plished solely by the laivs of nature, Avhich they Avould not have believed possible unless done under the direction of the mind, — such as the actions Avhich somnambulists perform Avhile sleeping and ivliich are

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subjects of wonder to themselves when awake. I add, hnally, that from the structure of the human body itself, which is fabricated with an art that in- tinitely surpasses human ingenuity and skill, — and leaving out of the question all that I have just shown — I say that from the structure of the human body, and from its nature, under whatever attribute it is considered, there must follow from it an inhnity of capabilities.

As regards the second point, I willingly admit that human affairs would go on much better if it were equally in the power of men to speak or to be silent. But exjierience more than sufficiently teaches us that there is nothing which men control less than the tongue, and that they are no less incapable of mod- erating or governing their appetites ; whence it hap- pens that many persons believe that we act freel}^ only in respect of those things which we desire slightly or feebly, because then the appetite for those things can be easily controlled by the recollection of other things which our memory frequently recalls ; but that we by no means act freely in respect of those things which Ave eagerly or strongly desire, and which the recollection of other things cannot make us cease to desire. But indeed nothing would pre- vent these persons from believing that our actions are always free, if they did not know by experience that we do many acts of Avhich Ave afterAvards repent, and that Ave often, AAdien agitated by contending pas- sions, see AAdiat is best and yet do AAdiat is Avorst. It is tlius the infant Avould believe that it freely desires the breast, — the angered boy that he freely seeks re- venge,— the timid that he is free to fly. It is thus also that an intoxicated man Avould believe that he speaks by the free aauII of his soul the AA^ords AAfliich

PAKT III. — OF THE AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS. 133

when again sober he wishes he had not spoken, — and it is even thus that the delirious, the garrulous, chil- dren, and many others, would believe that they s^^eak by a free decision of the soul, when, nevertheless, they cannot restrain the impulse to speak. Thus, then, experience no less clearly than reason suffi- ciently teaches that men believe themselves free solely because they are conscious of their actions, blit ignorant of the causes which determine them ; and tliat, moreover, the decisions of the soul are nothing else than its appetites, which vary in accord- ance with the variable dispositions or states of the body. For every one, indeed, would control all things according to his own desires ; and they, more- over, who are agitated by conflicting passions scarcely know what they desire ; whilst they wlio are passive or have no desire, are easily led this way or that.

ISTow it clearly results from all that has been said, that tlie decisions of the soul as well as the appetites and determinations of the body are simultaneous in nature, or rather that they are one and the.same thing, which when considered under the attribute of thou (flit and exjflained by it, we call a decision; and when considered under the attribute of extension and de- duced from the laws of motion and rest, we call a de- termination ; — but all this will appear still more clearly in the course of this treatise. There is another point, however, to which I would here ask particular attention, — namely : that we are unable to do any- thing by a decision of the soul without the aid of the memory. For example : we cannot speak a single word unless we remember it. Further, it evidently does not depend upon the free power of the soul either to remember or to forget anything. Where-

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fore, we believe that it is only in the power of the sonl, by its sole decision, to speak or to be silent on a thing which is remembered. But when in sleep we dream that we speak, we believe we speak by virtue of the free decision of the soul ; and yet we either do not speak at all, or if we do, it is by a spontaneous movement of the body. And if, further, we dream that we keep certain things secret, this is in virtue of a like decision of the soul as that whereby when awake we keep silent on things we know. Lastly, do Ave dream that by a decision of the soul Ave do certain things AAdiich aAvake Ave Avould not dare to do — I Avould then Avish to knoAv Avhether there are tAvo kinds of de- (usions of the soul, — one fantastical, another free ? And if AA^earenot disposed to be so irrational as to ad- mit that there are, then it is necessary to concede that this decision of the soul AAdiich is belicA^ed to be free, is really not distinguishable from imagination or memory itself ; and that it is, in fact, nothing but the affirmation Avhich an idea, in so far as it is an idea, necessarily invohms {mde Prop. 49, Part II.). Conse- cpiently, these decisions arise in the soul by the same necessity as the ideas of things actually existing arise in it. They, therefore, AAdio believe that they speak, or are silent, or do anything Avhatsoever by the free decisions of the soul, dream AAuth their eyes oiien.

PKOP. III. — The actions of the soul piroceed only from adequate ideas, and its piassions only from inadequate ideas.

Deaionstr. — That which constitutes the beginning {primiiin) or essence of the soul is nothing else than the idea of the body existing in act (by Propis. 11 and

PAPvT in.— OF THE AFFECTIOXS OH PASSIOXS. 135

13, Part I L), which idea itself (by Prop. 15, Part II.) is composed of many other ideas, some of wliich (by Coroll. Prop. 38, Part II.) are adequate, and some in- adequate (by Coroll, to Prop. 29, Part II.). Whatever therefore follows from the nature of the soul of which the soul is the proximate cause, and by which it must be understood, must necessarily follow either from an adequate or an inadequate idea. But in so far as th(‘ soul (by Prop. 1) has inadequate ideas, in so far does it necessarilj^ suffer ; therefore the actions of the soul follow only from adequate ideas, and the soul suffers only in so far as it has inadequate ideas, q. e. d.

SciiOL. — We see, therefore, that the passions are not to be referred to the soul except in so far as it has in itself something which involves negation ; or in so tar as it is considered as a part of nature, which part cannot be clearly and distinctly perceived by itself in- dependently of other jiarts ; and for this reason I (;ould shoAV that the passions have relation to particu- lar things in the same way as to the soul, and cannot 1:^’ perceived in any other manner ; but my intention is to treat only of the human soul.

PKOP. lY. — Xo thing can be destroyed except by an external cause.

Deaioxstr. — This proposition is self-evident ; for the dehnition of every individual thing is itself the affirmation and not the negation of the essence of that thing; in other words, it alleges its essence— it does not abrogate it. Therefore, so long as a thing is con- sidered in itself alone, Avithout regard to external (‘auses, nothing can be discovered in it by Avhich it can be destroj^ed. Q. e. d?

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PROP. V. — In so far as things are conirarv in nature, that is, in so far as one Avouhl de- stroy another, they cannot exist in the same subject.

De:\ioxstr. — For if they could associate and exist together in the same subject at the same time, there would then be present in the same subject something which would cause its destruction, which (by preced- ing Prop.) is absurd. Therefore, in so far as things are, etc. q. e. d. i

PROP. VI. — Each indiyidnal thing endeavors, in so far as it can, to xiersevere in its being.

Demoxste. — For individual things are modes which express the attributes of God in certain determinate Avays (by Coroll, to Prop. 25, Part I.) ; that is to sa}^ (by Prop. 34, Part I.), they are things AAdiich express the poAA^er of God — the poAA^er by A\diich God is and acts in certain determinate AAmys. Veither has a thing anything AAuthin itself by AApicli it can be destroyed or its existence abrogated (by Prop. 4) ; on the con- trary, it is opposed to AAdjateAw can aimnl its exis- tence (by preceding Prop.). Therefore, in so far as it is able, eacli individual thing endeavors to perse\'ere in its being, q. e. d.

PROP. VII. — The effort by which each indivi- dual thing strives to persevere in its being is nothing but the actual essence of the thing itself.

Demoxste. — The essence of anything AAdiatsoever being given, certain results necessarily folloAv from it

PART III. — OF THE AFFECTIOXS OR PASSIOXS. 137

(by Prop. 36, Part I.) ; nor can things effect any re- sult that does not necessarily follow from their deter- minate nature (by Prop. 29, Part I.). Wherefore the power or effort of each individual thing by which, either alone or with other things, it acts, or endeavors to act, — that is (by Prop. 6), the power or effort hy which it strives to persevere in its being, is nothing but the given or actual essence of that thing, q. e. d.

PROP. YIII. — The effort by Avhicli each indi- vidual thing strives to persevere in its being involves no finite time, but indefinite time.

Demoxstr. — For if it involved a limited time which determined the duration of the thing, then by the liower by which alone it existed, it would follow that after this limited time the thing could no longer exist, but would be destroyed. But this (by Prop. 4) is absurd. Therefore the effort by which a thing exists involves no definite time ; but, on the contrary (by same Prop. 4), if it is not destroyed by an external cause, the same power by which it already exists will cause it to exist forever ; therefore the effort of a thing to persevere in being involves indefinite time. Q. E. D.

PROP. IX. — The sonl, whether as it has clear and distinct ideas, or whether as it lias confused ideas, endeavors to persevere in its being for an indefinite time, and is con- scious of its effort.

Demoxstr. — The essence of the sonl is constituted of adequate and inadequate ideas (as shown in Prop. 3), and so (by Prop. 7) both as it xiossesses the one

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and tlie other, it strives to persevere in its being and for an indeiinite period of time (by Prop. 8). And inasinncli as the sonl (by Prop. 23, Part II.) through its ideas of the affections of the body is necessarily conscious of itself, therefore it follows (by Prop. 7) that the soul is conscious of its effort to persevere in being, q. e. d.

SciroL. — This effort, when referred to the soul alone, is called loill ; but when referred to soul and body together, it is called appetite^ which, therefore, is nothing less than the veiy essence of man, from the nature of which whatever serves for his preservation necessarily follows, and under the influence of which his actions are determined. Moreover, there is no difference between ax)petite and desire save that desire is commonly referred to man in so far as he is con- scious of his appetites ; and for this reason it may be defined thus : Desire is appetite with consciousness of it. From what has been previously said, it appears that we do not will, crave, or desire, because we judge a thing to be good, — but that, on the contraiy, we judge a thing to be good because we have the appetite or desire for it, strive after it, and will to possess it.

PROP. X. — An idea that excludes the existence of the body cannot be present in our sonl ; — it is contrary or opposed to it.

Demoxstr. — Thei’e can be nothing in our body that tends to destroy it (by Prop, o) ; and so neither can there be any idea of such a thing in God, in so far as God has an idea of our body (by Coroll, to Prop. 9, Part II.) ; that is (by Props. 11 and 13, Part II.), the idea of such a thing cannot be present in our soul ; but, on the contrary, since (by Props. 11 and

PAKT III. — OF THE AFFECTIOXS OR PASSION'S. 139

13, Part II.) tlie beginning {iirimmii), tliat wliicli (anistitntes the essence of the sonl, is the idea of the body actually existing, it follows that the affirmation of tlie existence of the body is the lirst and funda- mental effort of the soul (by Prop. 7). Therefore an idea Avliich involved a negation of the existence of our body would be contrary to our soul, etc. e. d.

PlvOP. XI. — Anything that aiignicnts or di- minishes, favors or hinders, the power of our body to act, the idea of that same thing augments or diminishes, favors or hinders, the power of onr sonl to think.

Demoxstp.. — This Proposition is manifest from Propositions 7 and 14, Part II.

SciiOL. — We see therefore that the soul ma}^ suffer great changes, and pass by turns to states of greater or less iierfection ; and it is these states or passions whicii the affections of Joy and Sorrow explain to us. By joy, therefore, in Avhat follows, I shall understand a passion in lolilcli the soul i^^f'Sses to a greater perfection; and by sorrow I shall understand a passion in loliicli the soul passes to a less perfection. Moreover, the affection of joy, when it relates to both body and soul, I shall call pleasure {titillatio) or hilarity {hilar itas); and tlie affection of sorrow I shall call grief {dolor), or melancholy {melan-

cholia). But it is proper to remark here that pleasure and pain are referred to man as having some one of his parts more affected than others ; and hilar ity melancholy, when all the parts are alike affected. As to Avhat desire is, I have explained that in the Scho- lium to Prop. 9 ; and I now state that besides these three passions, viz. : Joy, Sorrow, and Desire, I know

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of no other primary affections ; and I shall show, in what follows, that all other passions arise from these three. But before going further I think it proper to explain Proposition 10 more fallv, in order that we may more clearly understand how and in what way one idea is contrary or opposed to another idea.

In tlie Scholium to Prop. 17, Part II., we haye shown that the idea which constitutes the essence of the soul involves the existence of the body so long as the body itself exists. Furthermore, from what has been shown in tlie Corollary to Prop. 8 and its Scholium, Part II., — it follows that the present existence of onr soul depends on this alone, viz. — that the soul in- volves the actual existence of the body. Finally, it has been also shown {vide Props. 17 and 18, and Scholiums, Part II.) that the power of the soul whereby it imagines and remembers things, also de- pends on this alone : that the soul involves the ex- istence of the body. From which it follows that if the present existence of the soul and its power of imagining is destroyed or annulled, the soul immedi- ately ceases to affirm the present existence of the body. Xow the cause which makes the soul cease to affirm the present existence of the body cannot be in the soul itself (by Prop. 4), neither can it be in the cessation of the existence of the body. For (by Prop. 6, Part II.) the cause or reason of the soul’s affirming the existence of the body, is not because of the body’s beginning to exist (wherefore, and for the same reason, neither does it cease to affirm the ex- istence of the body merel}" because the body ceases to exist) ; but (by Prop. 8, Part II.) it arises from another idea which excludes the present existence of the body, and consequently of the soul also, — an

PAliT III. — OF THE AFFECTIOXS OR PASSIOXS. I4l

idea, therefore, which is contrary to the idea that constitutes the essence of our soul.

PKOP. XII. — The soul endeayors, as much as it can, to imagine sucli things as augment or hiyor the power of the body to act.

Demoxstr. — So long as the human body is affected liy a mode that involyes the nature of some external body, so long will the human soul contemplate that external body as present (by Prop. 17, Part II.); consequently (by Prop. 7, Part II.), so loiigfas the human soul contemplates aii}^ external body as pre- sent— that is (by Schol. to same Prop.), imagines it as present — so long is the human body affected by a mode which involyes the nature of that external body. And thus, so long as the soul imagines things which augment or favor the power of the body to act, so long is the body affected by modes which augment or favor its power to act {i^ide Post. 1) ; and consequently (by Prop. 11), so long is the power of the soul to think augmented or favored ; and there- fore (by Props. 6 or 9) the soul endeavors, as much as it can, to imagine such things as, etc. q. e. d.

PROP. XIII. — When the soul imagines such tilings as diminish or restrain the power of the body to act, it endeavors, as far as it is able, to remember other things which will exclude the existence of such things.

Demoxstr. — So long as the soul imagines such things, -so long is the power of both soul and body diminished or restrained (as demonstrated by pre- ceding Prop.) ; nevertheless, the soul will continue to

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imagine sucli things until it imagines others which exclude their present existence (by Prop. 17, Part II.) ; that is (as just shown), the power of both soul and bod}^ Avill be diminished or restrained until the soul imagines other things which exclude the ex- istence of such things ; and consequently (by Pro}). 9), the soul endeavors, so far as it is able, to imagine or remember other things which, etc. q. e. d.

CoKOLL. — Hence it follows that the soul is averse to imagine such things as diminish or restrain its own power and that of the body.

SciiOL. — By what precedes we can clearly under- stand what Love and Hate are, namely : — love is nothing else than joy concomitant with the idea of an external cause ; and hate is nothing else than sorrow accompanied by the id.ea of an external cause. AYe see also that he who loves necessarily endeavors to have present and to preserve the thing he loves : and, on the contrary, he who hates endeavors to re- move or destroy the thing he hates. But this will be more fully developed in what follows.

PHOP. XIV. — If the soul has once been affected by two passions at the same time, then, when it is subsequently affected by either of them it will also be affected by the other.

Hehoxstu. — If the human body has once been affected by two bodies at the same time, when there- after it imagines either of them it will forthwith re- member the other also (by Prop. 18, Part IL). But the imaginations of the soul indicate the affections of our own body rather than the nature of external

PAKT III. — OF THE AFFECTIOJ^^S OK PASSIONS. 148

bodies Coroll. 2 to Prop. 16, Part II.). Where- fore, if the body, and consequently the soul Mdc Def. 8), has once been affected by two affections at the same time, whenever thereafter it is affected by either of them it will also be affected by the other. Q. E. D.

PKOP. XY. — Anything wliatsoeAer may acci- dentally be the cause of joy, or of sorrow, or of desire.

Pemonstk. — Suppose the soul to be affected at the same time by two affections or passions, one of which neither augments nor diminishes its power to act, whilst the other either augments or diminishes it {^ide^ Post. 1). It then evidently follows, from the 2)reced- ing Proposition, that whenever thereafter the soul is affected by the former affection as true cause — the one which of itself (by hytiothesis) neither augments nor diminishes its power to think — it will forthwith 1)0 affected by the other, which either augments or diminishes its 2)0wer to think ; that is to say (by Schol. to Pro 2). 11), the soul will then be affected by jojg or by sorrow ; so that tliese affections, not of themselves, but by accident become the causes of joy or of sorrow. In the same way it might easily be shown that every affection or 23assion may by acci- dent be the cause of desire, q. e. d.

CoKOLL. — It is solely because we have contem2)la- ted a tiling with feelings of 2ffe5^sure or of 25^in, of which however the thing in question is not itself tlu‘ efficient cause, that we are led to love or to hate it.

Demoxstk. — For it ha202^ens from this alone (by Pro2). 14) that the soul Avlien afterwards it imagines that thing, ex2)eriences a feeling of 2^feasure or of

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pain ; tliafc is to say (by Scliol. to Prop. 11), tlie power ot* the soul and body is angniented ordiminislied, etc.; and conseqnentjy (by Prop. 12) the soul either desires to imagine that thing, or it is averse to doing so (by Coroll, to Prop. 13) ; in other words (by Schol. to Prop. 13), it loves or it hates tliat thing, q. e. d.

Schol. — Hence we understand how it may happen that we love or hate certain things without any cause known to ns, but only by sympathy and antipathy (as it is said). To this same class must also be re- ferred those objects which alfect us witli joy or sorrow, from this alone : that they have some resem- blance to objects which usually affect us with these same passions, as I shall show in the propositions following. I know, indeed, that the writers Avho first introduced the words sympathy and antipathy in- tended to signify thereby certain occult qualities of tilings ; but, nevertheless, I think it is permissible to understand by them some known and even very manifest qualities.

PllOP. XYI. — We love or hate certain things solely because we imagine that they re- semble some object which ordinarily affects ns with joy or sorroAV, pleasure or pain, although that wherein such things resemble this object may not be the efficient cause of the affection or passion we experience.

Demoxstk. — Whatever there is of similarity be- tween the things and the object in question the soul (by hypothesis) has contemplated with an affection of joy or of sorrow; and therefore (by Pro]3. 14) when the soul imagines that similitude it will be at once

PAPvT III. — OF THE AFFECTIONS OE PASSIONS. 145

affected eitlier with joy or with sorrow ; and conse- quently the thing in which this similitude is per- ceived Avill by accident (by Prop. 15) become the cause of joy or of sorrow ; and thus (by preceding Coroll.) we will feel love or hate for certain things which resemble some object, although that wherein they resemble the object which has affected ns is not the efficient cause of the love or the hate we experi- ence. Q. E. D.

PROP. XVII. — If a thing which was wont to» affect ns with an affection or passion of sor- row be imagined to resemble some other tiling which was wont to affPect ns just as. strongly with an affection of joy, we may at the same time have both love and hate for it.

Demonstr. — For the thing here (by hypothesis) is itself the cause of sorrow, and (by Schol. to Prop. 13) in so far as we imagine it under iliis passion we have hate for it ; and, further, in so far as we imagine it to resemble some other thing which was wont to affect ns as greatly with the passion of joy, we are then dis- posed to love it with a joy that is equally as great (by preceding Prop.). And thus it is that we may at the same time both love and hate a thing, q. e. d.

SciioL. — This state or condition of the soul which arises from two contrary passions, is called vacilla- tion of mind ; and in respect to passion it is what donbt is to imagination {vide Schol. to Prop. 44, Part II.). Xor do vacillation of mind and doubt differ from one another save in the degrees of more and less. It is to be observed, however, that in the preceding Prop-

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position I have deduced these vacillations of mind from sources which in themselves are causes of one passion, and by accident causes of another j)assion ; .and this I have done because my deductions could be made more easil}^ from what had y^receded, and not because I deny that vacillation of mind arises for the most part from an object Avhich is the efficient cause •of both of the contrary passions. For the human bod}^ (by Post. 1, Part II.) is composed of many individ- ual parts of diverse nature, and therefore (by Ax. 1, .after Lem. 3, which see after Prop. 13, Part II.) is sus- K'eptible of being affected in many different ways by one and the same body ; and, on the other hand, as one and the same thing may be affected in many ways, so may one and the same part of the body be also affected in many different ways. For these reasons we can readil^^ conceive that one and the same object may be the cause of numerous -and contrary .affections or passions.

PKOP. XYIII. — ]Man may be affected with the same passion of joy or sorrow by the image of a thing past or future, as by the image of a thing present.

Demonste. — So long as a man is affected by the image of anything, he contemplates it as present, even although it does not exist (by Prop. 17, Part 11. , and its Coroll.) ; nor does he imagine it as past or future, save and in so far only as its image is connected with a past or future time (^AZeSchol. to Prop. 44, Part II.). AVherefore the image of a thing considered in itself alone is always the same whether it be referred to the past, the future, or the present time ; that is (by Co- roll. 2 to Prop. 16, Part II.), the condition or the affec-

PART III. — OF. THE AFFECTIOXS OR PASSIONS. 147

tion of tlie body is tlie same wlietlier tlie image be of a thing past, future, or present ; therefore the pas- sion of Joy or of sorrow is the same whether the im- age be of a tiling past, present, or future, q. e. d.

ScnoL. 1. — I here designate a thing as past or future in so far as we have been or will be affected by it. For example : in so far as we have seen or will see that thing, or as it has refreshed or will refresh us, or as it has pleased or pained or will please or pain us. etc. For in so far as we thus imagine it, we so far affirm its existence ; that is, the body is affected by no affection which excludes the existence of the thing, and therefore (by Prop. 17, 'Part II.) the body is affected by the image of the thing in the same way as if the thing itself were present. Nevertheless, as it frequently happens that men who have had much ex- perience ffuctuate or waver so long as they contem- plate a thing in reference to the future or the past, and are mostly in doubt as to what will occur {^ide Schol. to Prop. 44, Part II.), it comes to j^ass that affections occasioned by such imaginations of things are not fixed and constant, but are generally disturbed by images of other things until men are certain as to what will happen.

SciiOL. — From what has now been said we under- stand what is meant by liope^fear^ security^ desjjair, contentment ( gaudium J, and the stings of conscience. //079c is nothing else than an inconstant joy arising from the image of a thing future or past, of the issue of which we are in doubt ; /car, on the contrary, is an inconstant sorrow born also of the image of a doubt- ful event or thing. But take away doubt from these passions, then liojge is turned into security, and fear into despair ; that is to say, Joy or sorrow arises from the images of things which had inspired us with fear

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or hope. As to contentment, that is joy born of the image of a past tiling of the issue of which we had been in doubt. Lastly, the sting of conscience, or re- morse, is the sorrow opposed to contentment.

PEOP. XIX. — He wlio imagines the destruction of the thing he loves, is grieved ; if he im- agines that it is safe, he rejoices.

Demonstr. — The soul endeavors, as much as it can, to imagine whatever increases or assists the power of the body to act (by Prop. 12), that is (by Schol. to Proi). 13), to imagine such things as it loves. Xow imagination is aided by whatever implies the exist- ence of things, and on the contrary it is repressed by whatever excludes their existence (by Prop. 17, Part II.). Therefore those images of things which sup- pose the existence of a thing loved aid the effort of the soul whereby it endeavors to imagine that thing ; in other words (by Schol. to Prop. 11), they affect the soul with joy ; and, on the contrary, those images which exclude the existence of the thing loved hinder or repress the efforts of the soul, that is (by same Schol.), they affect the soul with sorrow. He, there- fore, who imagines the destruction of the thing he loved, is grieved, etc. Q. e. d.

PKOP. XX. — He who imagines the destruction of the thing he hates, rejoices.

Demonstr. — The soul (by Prop. 13) endeavors to imagine whatever excludes the existence of things that lessen or repress the power of the body to act ; in other words (by Schol. to same Prop.), it endeavors to imagine whatever excludes the existence of the thing it hates ; thus does the image of a thing which

PAKT III. — OF THE AFFECTIOXS OH PASSIOXS. 149

excludes the existence of a iiated object favor this effort of the soul ; that is to say (by Schol to Prop. 11), it affects the soul with joy. He, therefore, avIio itiiagines the destruction of Avhat he hates, rejoices.

Q. E. H.

PROP. XXI. — He Avho imagines the thing he loves to be aftected with sorrow or joy, experiences these same atFections himself ; and either of these affections will be greater or less in him who loves, as the affection is greater or less in the thing that is loved.

HehoxstPv. — The images of things (as demonstrated in Prop. 19) which imply the existence of the thing loved are favorable to the effort whicli the soul makes to imagine the beloved thing itself. But joy implies the existence of the thing for which it is felt, and this by so much the more as the passion of joy is greater : for joy (by Schol. to Prop. 11) is the transition to a higher perfection. Therefore the image of joy in the thing loved favors the effort in the soul of him who loves ; in other words (by Schol. to Prop. 11), it affects ^

him who loves with joy, and so much the more as this ^ . if r affection is greater in the thing loved. This is the -

first point. Again, in so far as anything is affected Avith sorroAv, in so far is that thing enfeebled, and this by so much the more the more it is affected with sorroAv (b}" same Schol. to Prop. 11) ; therefore (by Prop. 19) he vdio imagines the thing he loA^es to be' affected AAuth soitoav will also be affected \\dth sorrow, and this so much the more as the passion of sorrow in the thing he loves is greater, q. e. d.

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SPINOZA'S ETHICS.

PROP. XXIT. — If Sve iuiagiiic any person as cansinc^ joy to tlie tiling we love, we will be affected with love or liking for that person ; if, on the contrary, we imagine that person as causing sorrow to the thing we love, we will he affected with hate or dis- like for that person.

Demonstk. — Whoever causes joy or sorrow to the thing we love causes us to feel those same passions also, if we imagine the thing we love to be truly af- fected by the joy or sorrow so caused (by preceding Prop.). The joy or sorrow we then feel, however, is supposed to be accompanied by the idea of an exter- nal cause. Therefore (by Schol. to Prop. 13) if we imagine any person as causing joy or sorrow to the thing we love, we will be affected with love or hate for that person, q. e. d.

SciiOL. — Proposition 21 explains to us what co??i- miseration is. It may be defined as sorroio ai'ising from the misfortune of another. But by what name we are to designate the joy that arises from the good fortune or happiness of another, I do not know. As to the love we feel towards one who does good to another, we shall call it a^jyrohation {favor); and on the contrary, the hatred we feel towards whoso- ever does evil to another, we shall call indignation. Finally, it is to be observed, that we not only feel pity or commiseration for a thing we have loved (as shown in Prop. 21), but we also bestow it upon a thing for •Avhich we before had no affection, provided only that we judge it to be not unlike ourselves (as I shall soon show) ; and further, that we feel favorably disposed towards whosoever does good to one like unto our-

PART III. — OF THE AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS. 151

selves, — and on the contraiy, we feel indignation for him who inflicts injury on one like unto ourselves.

PEOP. XXIII. — He who imagines that the thing he hates is affected with sorrow, will rejoice ; if, on the contrary, he imagines tliat it is affected with joy, he will grieye ; and each of these affections will he greater or less as its contrary affection is greater or less in the thing he hates.

Demonstr. — In so far as the thing hated is affected with sorrow, in so far is it enfeebled or incapacitated to act ; and by so much the more the more it is af- fected with sorrow (by Schol. to Prop. 11). He, tliere- fore (by Prop. 20), who imagines the thing he hates to be affected with sorrow will be affected with joy, and this so much the more the more he imagines the hated thing to be affected Avith sorrow. This is tlie first point. Again, joy affirms the existence of the thing that experiences it (by same Schol. to Prop. 11), and so much the more the greater the joy is con- ceived to be. If tlierefore any one imagines the thing he hates to be affected with joy, this imagination (by Prop. 13) Avill restrain or repress tlie effort of his soul ; that is (by Schol. to Prop. 11), he aa’Iio hates will be still more affected AAUth sorrow, etc. q. e. d.

Schol. — Such joy, hoAvever, can scarcely be solid and free from conflict of soul. For (as I shall soon shoAv in Prop. 27) in so far as Ave imagine a being like ourselves affected Avith soitoav, so far must AA’^e too be grieved ; and contrariAAuse, if AA^e imagine tliat being as affected AAutli joy. But here AA^e confine our attention to the emotion of Itaie.

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PROP. XXIY. — If we imagine some person as causing joy or pleasure to a thing we hate or dislike, we shall be affected with hate or dislike towards that person also. If, on the contrary, we imagine some xierson as causing sorroAV or pain to a thing we hate, we shall be affected with love or liking towards that person.

Demoxstk. — This Proposition is demonstrated in the same manner as Prop. 22, which see.

ScnoL. — These and similar passions of hate are re- ferred to envy^ which, consequently, is nothing else than hate itself, in so far considered as disposing men in such wise that they rejoice at the ills or misfor- tunes of others, and, on the contrary, grieve at the good that befalls them.

PROP. XXV. — We endeavor to affirm every- thing of ourselves and of the thing we love which we imagine v» ill affect ourselves and the thing we love with joy or gladness; and, on the contrary, we endeavor to nega- tive whatever we imagine will affect our- selves and the thing we love with sorrotv.

Demoxstr. — Whatever we imagine will affect the thing we love with joy or sorrow, affects ns with joy or sorrow (by Proji. 21). But the soul (by Prop. 12) endeavors, as much as possible, to imagine whatever can affect ns with joy ; that is (by Proj). 17 and its Coroll., Part II.), to contemplate it as present ; and on the contrary (by Prop. 13), it strives to exclude the •existence of whatever affects us with sorrow. There-

PAKT III. — OF THE AFFECTIONS OH PASSIONS. 153

fore we endeavor to affirm, both of ourselves and of the thing loved, whatever we imagine Aviil affect our- selves and the thing loved with joy or gladness ; and on the contrary, etc. Q. e. d.

PROP. XXYI. — We endeavor to affirm of tlie thing we hate or dislike whatever we imagine will affect it with sorrow ; and on the contrary, to negative whatever we imagine might affect it with joy.

Demonstr. — This Proposition follows from Prop. 23, as the j) receding one (25) follows from Prop. 21.

SciioL. — We see by the foregoing how easily it happens that a man may think more favorably of himself and of the things he loves than is right ; and on the contrary, less favorably of the things he hates or dislikes than is just. When this imagination has I'espect to the person who thinks more favorably of himself than is proper, it is called or haughti-

ness^ a kind of delirium in which man with his eyes open dreams that he is all and can accomplish all that he merely imagines ; and, because he con- templates the fictions he imagines as realities, he re- joices ; that is, he rejoices so long as he does not im- agine things that exclude their existence and that determine his own powers of action. Pride or haughtiness therefore is a joy that arises from a man thinking more favorably of himself than is right. Again, the joy that arises from a man thinking more liighly of another than is right is called respect or esteem {existimatio) ; and, lastly, that which arises from man thinking less favorably of another than is just is called disrespect or contempt {despectus).

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PROl^. XXYir. — When ^^G imagine an object like onrselves to be affected by some par- ticular passion, altliongli that object has never before affected us we are affected by a passion similar to its own.

Demoxstk. — The images of things are affections of the human body, the ideas of which represent to us external bodies just as if they were present to us (by Scliol. to Prop. 17, Part II.) ; in other words (by Prop. 16, Part II.), the ideas of Avhich involve at the same time the nature of our own body and the nature of the external body present. If, therefore, the na- ture of the external body is like unto the nature of our own body, then will the idea of the external body we imagine involve an affection of our body similar to the affection of the external body ; and, consequently, if we imagine one like unto ourselves to be affected by some passion, this imagination ex- presses an affection of our own body similar to the affection of the body imagined. In this way it is that in imagining one like unto onrselves to be affected by a passion, we are affected by a similar passion. If, however, we hate or dislike the individual who resembles us, then (by Prop. 23) will we be affected by a passion contrary to his own, and not by one similar to it. q. e. d.

SciiOL. 1. — This imitation of iiassions, when referred to sorrow, is called comm iseration or pity (for which vide Schol. to Prop. 22) ; but when referred to desire it is called emulation^ which, therefore, is nothing else than a desire of something generated in us by our imagining others like ourselves to have similar de- sires.

CoKOLL. 1. — If we imagine a person who has never

PAKT III. — OF THE AFFECTIOXS OK PASSIOXS. 155

before affected ns to be tlie cause of joy or pleasure to one like ourselves, Ave then feel pleasantly disposed tOAvards him ; if, on the contrary, AAm imagine that person to be the cause of soitoav or ])ain to one like ourselves, AA^e hate or dislike him.

Deaioxstp. — This is to be demonstrated in the same AA'ay as the preceding proposition — just as Prop. 22 is tlemonstrated from Prop. 21.

CoKOLL. 2. — We cannot hate the thing that inspires us Avith pity because its suffering affects us Avitli

SOITOAV.

Deafoxstr. — For if it Avere possible to hate it on that account, then should Ave rejoice at its suffering (by Prop. 23), AAdiich is against the hypothesis.

Coroll. 3. — W^e endearor as far as possible to re- lieve the object we pity from its suffering.

Deafoxstr. — Anything that causes pain or sorroAv to the object of our pity affects us also aatIIi alike feeling of pain or soitoav (by preceding Prop.), and then Ave endeavor to remember AAdiatevei’ suppresses the exist- ence of that thing or destroys it (by Prop. 13) ; that is to say (by Prop. 9), Ave desire its destruction or are moved to destroy it, and in this AAmy Ave seek to relieAm the object of our pity from its suffering, q. e. d.

SciiOL. 2. — The Avill or desire to do good AAdiich arises fi’om the pity AA^e feel for the object upon AAdiich AA'e Avould confer a benefit, is called henexolence^ and is nothing but a desire springing from commiseration or pity. As to Avhat might further be said of the love and hate we feel for one avIio does good or evil to the thing Ave imagine resembles ourselves, see the Schol. to Prop. 22.

PROP. XXVIII. — WhatsoeA'er avc imagine may conduce to joy or pleasure Ave endeuA or to

SPINOZA* S ETJIICS.

lo6

promote orbring about; anti Ave strhx to put aside or destroy AAdiatsoeA^er Ave imagine is opposed to these, or conduces to sorrow or pain.

DEAit)xsTK. — We endeaA’or, as far as possible, to imagine AvliatsoeA^er we belieA'e Avill conduce to joy (b}^ Prop. 12) ; in other words (by Prop. 17, Part II.)* we endeavor, as far as possible, to contemplate sucli things as present or actually existing. But the effort or power of the soul in thinking is equal and alike in nature to the effort or jioAA^er of the body in acting (as clearly ax)pears from the Corolls, to Props. 7 and 11, Part II.). We endeavor, therefore, to have the things that conduce to joy exist absolutely, or (which by Schol. to Prop. 9 is the same thing) we desire and intend that they shall exist. This is the first point. Again, if ^ye imagine that that Avhich we be- lieve to be a cause of soitoaa', in other Avords (by Schol. to Prop. 13), that that AAdiich we hate is destroyed, ^ve rejoice (by Prop. 20), and AA^e make an effort either to destroy it, or (by Prop. 13) to put it aside, so that Ave AA'ill no longer contemplate it as present. This is the second point. Therefore, AAdiatsoeA^er AA'e imagine may conduce to joy, etc. Q. e. d.

PROP. XXIX. — We eiideuA or to do ca erything » Avliicli AA e imagine men* aa ill regard faA^or-

I o o

or Avitli pleasure ; and on the con- trary, AA e aA^oid doing aa liateA cr aa e imagine they Avill regard Avitli displeasure.

* It is to be understood that here and in the propositions following,

I refer to men who, individually, have not before affected us in any w ay . — {Sp inoza.)

PART III. — OF THE AFFECTIOXS OR PxVSSIOXS- lo7

Demoxstr. — When we imagine that men love or hate this or that thing, we ourselves are disposed to love or hate it likewise (b}" Prop. 27); that is to say (by Scdiol. to Prop. 13), we rejoice in or we are grieved by the presence of that thing ; and consequently (b}^ preceding Proj).) Ave endeavor to do that which Ave imagine men Avill regard AAdtli pleasure, etc. q. e. d.

SciiOL. — This inclination or effort to do or not to do certain things from the sole motive of pleasing men is called ambition^ especially Avhen AV’e strive to please the mnltitnde so earnestly that Ave do or omit to do certain things to the detriment of ourselves or to the advantage of others. In other cases it is ordinarily jjoliteness^ cimlity {Jmmanitas). Further, the joy that Ave exx^erience from an action that aa^c imagine has been done by another for the x3nri)ose of pleasing us, \ Q^W 2^raise ilaitdo) ; and the soitoav AA’e ex^ieri- ence from aversion for the action of another, I call blame {xitwpero).

PEOP. XXX. — He who has done something Avhich he imagines giA es joy or x^leasnre to others, feels joy also, accomxianied aa ith the idea of himself as its cause ; in other aa ords, he contemxilates himself Avith joy or satis- faction. If, on the contrary, he has done something Avliich he imagines has occa- sioned sorroAV or pain to others, he Avill contemxilate himself Avitli sorroAV or dis- satisfaction .

Deaioxstr. — He aaTio imagines that he has caused joj or sorroAv to others, thereby ex^jeriences (by Proji

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27) joy or sorrow liiniself. But as man (by Props. 19 and 28, Part II.) is self-conscious through the affec- tions or passions which determine him to act, there- fore he who has done something which he imagines will give pleasure to another will himself experience pleasure through his consciousness of himself as its cause ; in other words, he will regard himself with joy or satisfaction ; and, on the contrary, etc. Q. E. n.

SciiOL. — As love (by Scliol. to Prop. 18) is joy or pleasure accompanied by the idea of an external cause, and hate is soirow or pain also accompanied by the idea of an external cause, so Avill this joy and sorrow be species of love and hate. But as love and hate are referred to external objects we have to indicate these passions by other names. The joy or pleasure accom- l)anied by the idea of an external cause we will there- fore designate glory {gloria)^ and the sorrow or pain that is the opposite of this we will designate slcame {g)udor) — understanding thereby the pleasure or pain which arises Avhen a man believes that he is praised or blamed for his actions. Otherwise, I designate the joy or pleasure that is accompanied by the idea of an external cause self-satisfaction or contentment {ac- quiescentia in se ipso) ; the sorrow or pain that is the opposite of this I call self -regret or dissatisfaction {imnitentia). Further, as (by Coroll, to Prop. 17, Part II.) the joy or x)leasure with which any one imagines he affects another may be only in his own imagination, and as (by Prop. 25) every one may en- deavor to imagine of himself whatever he fancies as a cause of joy or pleasure,’ it may therefore easily hap- pen that a rain- glorious {glorioso) person becomes jyroud or arrogant {superhia) and imagines that he is agreeable to everybody, when in fact he is disagree- able to all.

PAET III. — OF THE AFFECTIOXS OR PASSIONS. 159

PKOP. XXXI. — If we imagine tliat a certain person loves, desires, or hates an object which we ourselves love, desire, or hate, we Av ill then Ioa e, desire, or hate it more earnestly or constantly than Ave did before. But if Ave imagine that person feels aAxrsion for an object that Ave Ioa e, or, on the con- trary, that he loA^es Avhat Ave dislike, then Avill Ave siitfer tliictiiation of mind in respect of him.

Deaionstr. — Merely because A\^e imagine that some one loves this or that thing, AA’e are ourselves dis230sed to loA^e it also (by Proj). 27). But let ns snpx)ose that Avithont this AA^e loved that same thing. There is then added a neAA^ cause of love by aaIucIi our loA^e is fos- tered, so that AA^e then loA^e more constantly the thing Ave loved before. Again, from merely imagining some one to have an aversion for a certain thing, Ave Avill ourselves feel an aA^ersion for it (by same Proii.). Bat if it be su2)]30sed that we at the same time love this thing, Ave shall then have both love and hate for it at the same time, or {;pide Schol. to Prop. 17) AA^e shall suffer ffuctnation or vacillation of mind. q. e. d.

Coroll. — From this and from Prop. 28 it folloAA^s that every one endeavors, as far as iiossible, to have others love Avhat lie loves himself, and to hate AAhat he hates ; — AAdience the poet says :

“ Speremus pariter, pariter metuamus amantes ;

Ferreus est, si quls, quod sinit alter, amat.”

* Alike, the hope and fear that lovers feel ;

Who loves what others leave, is made of steel. — Tr.

— Ovidii Amor. L, 11. , Eleg. XIX., v. 4, 5.

IGO

spixoza’s ethics.

SciiOL. — This effort that we make to have every one agree witli us in our feelings of love or hate is really amhition {amhitio) (tide Schol. to Prop. 29). And hence we see why it is that almost every one naturally desires to have others live according to his fancy ; but if all alike desired this, f^ach would be in the others way, and whilst all wished to be loved and praised by all, they Avould all mutually hate each other.

PROP. XXXII. — If we imagine that another possesses and enjoys a certain thing wliicli one alone can x>ossess, we will make an effort to deprive him of that thing.

Demoxstk. — Merely because we imagine another enjoying a certain thing, we forthwith love and desire to enjoy that thing (by Prop. 27 and its Coroll. I.). But (by hypothesis) we imagine to ourselves, as an obstacle to this pleasure, the fact that another enjoys it. Therefore (by Prop. 28) do we make an effort to deprive him of it. Q. E. n.

SciiOL. — We see, by what precedes, that human nature is so constituted that he who is unfortunate is for the most part x>itied, and he who is fortunate is generally envied; and (by preceding Proi3.) that our dislike or hate for another is the greater the more we love and desire the thing of which we imagine him to be possessed. We see, further, that it is from the same property of human nature which makes men comx)assionate or pitiful, that they are also made en- vious and ambitious. Further, if we consult experi- ence we will find that it teaches all this, most esi^eci- ally when the earlier years of our lives are considered. For children, Avhose bodies are, as it were, in a contin- ual state of equilibrium, are wont to laugh or cry

PAET III. — OF THE AFFECTIOXS OE PASSIOXS. 161

merely because they see otliers laugh or cry, and what they see others do they forthwith desire to imi- tate ; and, further, whatever they imagine gives de- light to others, they covet for themselves; so true it is, as we have said, that the images of things an) affections or modes of the human bod}^, which, influ- enced by external causes, is disposed to act in this or that manner.

PROP. XXXIII. — IVlieii we love an object Avliicli is like unto ourselves, we endeavory as inucli as possible, to have it love ns in return .

\

Demoxste. — AVe endeavor, as far as jiossible, to imagine above all others the object that we love (by Prop. 12). If therefore that object is like unto our- selves, we endeavor above all to cause it joy (by Prop. 29) ; in other words, we endeavor, as, far as possible, to have the object we love affected pleasurably in connection with the idea of ourselves as cause ; that is (by Schol. to Prop. 131, to have it love us in re- turn. Q. E. n.

PROP. XXXI Y. — The greater we imagine to be the affection for us in the object we love, the more will we boast or glorify ourselves.

Deuoxste. — AA"e strive, as much as we can (by jire- ceding Prop.), to have the object we love love us in return ; that is to say (by Schol. to Prop. 13), to have the loved object pleasurably affected in concomitance with the idea of ourselves. Consequently the greater the pleasure which we imagine the loved object to be affected with towards us, the more is our endeavor to 11

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gain its love favored or strengthened ; that is (by Pro]). 11 and its Schol.), the greater is the pleasure we experience. But when we rejoice because we have affected one like nnto ourselves pleasurably, then do we contemplate ourselves with pleasure or satisfaction (by Proi^. 30). So that the greater we imagine to be the passion with Avhich a loved object is affected towards ns, the greater will lie the pleasure with which we will regard ourselves ; that is to say (by Schol. to Prop. 30), the more will we boast or glorify ourselves, q. e. d.

PEOP. XXXV. — Whoever imagines that the ob- ject he loves has united itself to another by a tie of friendship equal to, or stronger than tliat which until then had bound it wholly to himself, will experience hate for the ob- ject he before loved, and envy for his rival.

Bemoxstk. — The greater the love with which we imagine the loved object to be affected towards us, the more do we glorify ourselves (by preceding Prop.) ; that is (by Schol. to Proj). 30), the more do we re- joice ; consequently (by Prop. 28) we endeavor, as far as we are able, to imagine that the tie which binds the loved object to us is the closest and most intimate qiossible ; and this endeavor or desire is stimulated if we imagine that another exiieriences a like desire for that object (by Proji. 31). But this endeavor or de- sire is supiiosed to be restrained when the image of the loved object is accompanied by the image of a rival. Therefore (by Schol. to Prop. 11) we are sor- rowfully affected concomitant with the idea of the

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loved object, as cause, and at tlie same time hy the image of the rival ; in other words (by SchoL to Prop. 18), we will experience hate for the object loved and at the same time for onr rival (by CorolL to Prop. 15), of whom, further, we are envious because he is made happy by the object we love (b}^ Prop. 23). q. e. d.

SciiOL. — This hate towards tlie object loved joined with envy is culled Jealoics?/ {zelotypia), which is there- fore nothing bnt the hnctuation of mind arising from love and hate combined, accompanied by the idea of the rival whom we envy. This hate for the object loved will, besides, be great proportionally to the joy wherewith the jealous person was wont to be affected by the reciprocated love of the object of his love ; and, also, proportionally to the affection with which he may formerly have been affected towards him whom he now joins in his imagination with the object of his love. If he had hated this rival, he would for that reason alone hate or dislike the

object of his love (by Prop. 2-1), because he im- agines that what he himself liates is pleasurably

affected ; and also (by Coroll, to Prop. 15) for the

reason that he joins in his thought the image of the object loved with the image of liini whom he hates. This occurs very frequently in love affairs towards women. For he who imagines that the woman he loves gives herself np to another, will not only l)e grieved because his own desires are interfered with, bnt also because he joins in his thought the image of the object loved with the sexual pleasures of his rival for whom he has aversion. To which it may be fur- ther added, that the jealous lover who is not received by the object of his love with the same affection as before, finds in this another source of grief, as 1 shall soon show.

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1*K01\ XXXYJ. — He who recalls to iiiiiul an object in Avliich lie once took deliglit, de- sires to enjoy it again and under the same circumstances as when lie was tirst de- lighted with it.

Demoxsth. — Whatever a man has seen simulta- neously with an object that delighted him, becomes accidentally a cause of joy to him (liy Proji. lo), and so (by Prop. 28) he will desire to possess it along with the object that delighted him ; in other words, he will desire to possess that object with all of the circum- stances under which he was first delighted with it. 0. E. n.

CoKOLL. — If therefore the lover iierceives the ab- sence of any of these circumstances, lie is grieved.

Dehoxste. — For in so far as any circumstance is wanting, to that extent is something imagined which excludes the existence of what delighted him ; and as through love he desires that thing or that circum- stance (by preceding Prop.), therefore (bj^ Proj). 19) so long as he imagines that it is wanting, he is grieved.

(^ E. D-

SciiOL.— This sorrow or grief, in so far as it relates to the absence of a thing we love, is called longing {desiderium).

I^KOP. XXXYII. — The desire which arises from joy or sorrow, from love or hate, is great proportionally to the greatness of the passion that inspires it.

Demoxste. — Sorrow diminishes or restrains man's power of action (by Schol. to Prop. 11) ; that is to say (by Prop. 7), the effort by which man endeavors to

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persevere in liis state of being is diminished or re- strained ; and so (by Prop. 5) sorrow is opposed to this effort ; and hence whatever effort a man affected with sorroAv makes, is made to free himself of this sorrow. Bnt (by Def. of Soitoav) the greater the sorrow, the greater, on the part of man, must necessarily be his power of action to oppose it. Therefore the greater the sorrow, the greater must be the xiOAver of action by Avhich man endeavors to free himself of this passion ; that is to say (by Schol. to Prop. 9), the greater must be the axipetite or desire Avith Avhich he endeavors to dispel his sorrow. Again, inasmuch as joy (by Schol, to Proxi. 11) increases or faAmrs mair s poAver of action, it is easily demonstrated in the same AA^ay tliat a man affected Avitli joy has no other desire bnt to preserve his state of being, and this Avith a desire so much the greater as the joy that animates him is greater. Lastly, as hate and love are themselves affections of the pas- sions of sorroAvand joy, it folloAvs in like manner that the effort, ax)petite, or desire Avhich arises from hate or love Avill be great xiroiiortionallj^as the hate or love is great, q. e. n.

PROP. XXXYIIT. — He avIio begins to feel hate for an object loved, and has his love for it at length coinxiletely extinguished, for that reason feel a greater hate for it than if lie had neA^er Ioa ed it at all, and the more he loAed it before the gi'eater Avill be his hate for it.

Deaioxstr. — For he Avho begins to hate an object AAdiich he before loved, has more apjietites or desires defeated than if he had never loved it. For love is a (by Schol. to Prop. 13) AAiiich man, so far as he is

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able, endeavors to preserve (by Prop. 28) ; and this lie does by contemplating the loved object as present with him, and striving to imagine it as joyful as pos- sible (by Prop. 21) ; and this effort (by preceding Proj).), as well as the effort to have the object he loves love him in return, is so much the gTeater in proportion as his love itself is great {tide Prop. 83). But all these efforts are rejiressed by hate of the ob- ject loved (by Coroll, to Prop. 13, and by Prop. 23) ; wherefore the lover (by Schol. to Prop. 11), for this reason, becomes affected with grief ; and this will be the greater in proportion as his love was great ; that is to say, besides the grief which was the first cause of hate for the object loved, there have arisen others (connected with the love which the object had inspired ; and consequently the lover contemplates the object loved with a greater affection of grief ; that is (by Schol. to Prop. 13), his love for it will be followed by greater hate than if he had never loved it ; and the greater his love has been, the greater will be his hate.

(^ E. D.

PROP. XXXIX. — He ^vho hates another ^vill be disposed to do him evil, unless he fears that greater evil will come to himself by doing it; and on the contrary, he who lores another will by the same law eii- dearor to do him good.

pEMONSTii. — To hate another is (by SchoL to Prop. 13) to imagine him as a cause of sorrow ; consequently (by Prop. 28) he who hates another will endeavor to put him aside or destroy him. But if he fears some greater sorrow or (which is the same thing) some

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greater evil for himself, and believes that he can avoid it by abstaining from doing the evil he had meditated, he will desire (by same Prop. 28) to abstain from do- ing it ; and this (by Prop. 37) by a greater effort than that he would make to do the evil, so that this effort would prevail over the other — which is wliat we wished to demonstrate. The second part of the demonstration iiroceeds after the same manner. "Wherefore, he who hates another, etc. q. e. b.

SciiOL. — By good I here nnderstand eveiy kind of jo}^ and whatever conduces to it, especially whatever wonid satisfy any desire, whatsoever its nature ; by eGil I nnderstand every kind of soitoav, and especially whatever frustrates a desire. For I have already shown (in Schol. to Prop. 9) that we do not desire a thing because we judge it to be good, but, on the con- trary, we call that good Avhich we desire ; and con- sequently Ave call that evil to Avhich Ave are aA^erse. Wherefore it happens that every one judges accord- ing to his OAvn affections or xiassions AAdiat is good, Avhat evil, AAdiat is better, Avhat Avorse, and, lastly, Avliat is best, AAdiat, Avorst. Thus the aAmricious man judges that xilenty of money is the greatest good, and the lack of it the greatest eAul. The ambitions man thinks there is nothing equal to the glory he desires, and, on the contraiy, nothing so much to be dreaded as disgrace and defeat. To the envious, again, there is nothing more pleasant than the misfortune of another, and nothing more disagreeable than his jiros- perity. And thus it is that every one according to his OAAm passions or desires judges a thing to be good or evil, useful or useless. But the affection or xiassion which so discloses a man that he does not desire AAdiat he Avants, or AAmnt AAdiat he desires, is called dread (tiruor)^ AAdiich, consequently, is nothing else than

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fear (jnetas) intluencing a man to avoid wliat lie deems a future evil by submitting to a minor present one (vide Prop. 28). But if the evil he dreads be sliaine^ then is tlie dread called haslfulness or mo- desty (verecnndia). Finally, if the desire to avoid a coniiug evil is restrained by the fear of some other evil, so that we know not truly which to choose, then is fear called consternation (eonsternatio), estiecially if either of the evils which is dreaded be one of the greatest known.

PIlOl^. XL. — He Avlio imagines that lie is hated l)y another, but is not conscious of having given any cause for hate, will in return hate that other.

Demoxstr. — He who imagines another to be af- fected with hate, will himself also be affected with hate (by Prop. 27) ; that is (by Schol. to Prop. 13), he experiences sorrow accompanied with the idea of an external cause. But he (by hypothesis) imagines no cause for this sorrow except the person who hates him. Therefore, because he imagines that he is hated by another he experiences sorroAv accompanied with the idea of the person who hates him ; in other words (by the same SchoL), he will hate because he is hated. ■Q. E. n.

Schol. 1. — But if he imagines that he has given a Just cause for hate, then (by Prop. 30 and its Schol.) ■will he be affected with shame. This however (by Prop. 25) rarely happens. Besides, this reciproca- tion of hate may also arise from the hatred that has followed an effort to injure him who is hated (by Prop. 39). He, therefore, who imagines that he is hated by another will imagine that other to be the

PART III. — OF THE AFFECTIOXS OR PASSIOXS. 169

cause of evil or sorrow to himself, and so will be affected by sorrow or fear accompanied with the idea of the person who hates him as its cause, — that is, lie will be affected with hate in return, as above.

Coroll. 1. — Pie who imagines that the object of liis love dislikes or hates him will be agitated by conflicl- ing emotions of love and hate, at the same time. For in so far as he imagines that the loved person hates him, he is moved to hate that person in return (by preceding Prop.). But (by hypothesis) he loves that person nevertheless. Therefore will he be moved by conflicting emotions of love and hate at the same time.

Coroll. 2. — He who imagines that another who has never before affected him, or with whom he has had no relations, has thiongh hatred done him an injury, Avill forthwith be disposed to retaliate by doing that other an injury.

Hemoxstr. — He who imagines that a certain person hates him, will be disposed to hate that person in return (by preceding Prop.), and (by Prop. 26) to threaten him with and to strive to bring upon him whatever may cause him sorrow (by Prop. 39). But (by hyjDothesis) the first thing he imagines is the evil • that has been done to himself ; therefore will he forthwith seek to do him some evil in return, q. e. T).

SciroL. 2. — The effort we make to do evil to one Avhom we hate is cadled anger {Ira) ; and that which we make to pay back an evil done to ourselves is en- titled rerenge (vindlcta).

PHOP. XLI. — He wlio imagines that he is loved by another, but does not know why he is loved (which, by Coroll, to Prop. 15

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and bv Prop. 16, may very well happen), Avill loA e tliat other in return.

Demoxstr. — This proposition is demonstrated in tlie same manner as the preceding Pi'oposition, the Scholium to wliicli may also be referred to.

ScnoL. 1. — Bnt if he believes that he has given just cause for the love shchvn him, he will glorify or be Avell pleased with himself (by Prop. 30 and its SclioL). And this happens very frequently (by Prop. 2o) ; bnt the contrary of this, as haA^e said, also occurs if he imagines that he is hated by another {vide Schol. to preceding Prop.). Xoaa^, this reciprocation of love, and consequently (by Prop. 39) the effort Avhicli results from it to do good to him aaTio loves ns and Avonld do us a kindness, is called gratitude {gratia seu grati- tudo). It Avonld seem, lioAA^ever, that men are much more ready to reAxnge themselves than the}^ are to pay back benefits.

Coroll. — He aa^io imagines that he is loA^ed by one Avhom he hates aaTII suffer conflicting emotions of loA^e and hate at the same time. This is demonstrated in the same manner as the first Corollary to the preced- ing Proposition.

SciiOL. 2.— If hate prevails he will seek to do evil to the person by AAdiom he is loved ; this affection or ])assion is called cruelty {crudelitas)^ — especially if he AAdio loves is not believed to haA'^e given any of the usual causes of hatred.

PKOP. XLII. — He aaTio lias done a serA ice to anotlier, AAdietlier tliroiigb Ioa e or the bope of fame or reputation {gloria)^ aaHI be gricA ed if be sees that bis kindness is re- ceiA ed in an ungrateful spirit.

PAPwT III. — OF THE AFFECTIOXS OR PASSIONS. 171

Demonstr. — He ivlio loves one of liis own kind en- deavors, as nincli as lie can, to be loved in return (by Prop. 83). He therefore who through love confers a benefit on another does it through the desire he feels to be loved in return ; that is to say (by Pro]). 34y from hope of fame or from the pleasure that will ensue to him from the act (by Scliol. to Prop. 30) ; therefore (by Prop. 12) will he endeavor, as much as he can, to imagine or contemplate this cause of fame as present or actually existing. But (by hypothesis) he may imagine something else which excludes the ex- istence of this cause ; therefore and on this account Avill he be grieved (by Pro}!. 19).

PEOP. XLIII. — Hate is increased when it is mutual, and, on the contrary, it may be effaced by love.

Hemoxstr. — He who imagines that the person he hates is affected with hate towards himself, conceives thereby a new hate (by Prop. 40), the first (by hypothesis) continuing to subsist. But if, on the contrary, he imagines the object of his hate to be affected with love towards him, then in so far as he imagines this he will contemplate himself with joy or satisfaction (by Prop. 30), and in so far (by Prop. 29), will he endeavor to please the person who returns his hate with love ; that is to say (by Prop. 40), in so far as he can he will endeavor not to hate him and not to cause him any sorrow ; and this endeavor (by Prop. 37) will be greater or less in iiroportion to the passion from which it jiroceeds ; and so if this effort is greater than the effort that arises from hate and which is intended to cause sorrow to the person hated, it will prevail over it and efface the hatred from the soul. Q. E. D.

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PROP. XLIV. — Hate tliat is completely vaii- qiiislied by loye, is cliaiiged into loye ; and tliis loye is often greater than if it bad not been preceded by hate.

Pemonstp. — The demonstration proceeds in the same manner as that of Prop. 38. For he who liegins to love tlie object he had hated or which he liad regarded only with sorrow or displeasure, is re- joiced,— simply because he now loves it ; and to tlie joy wliich love involves (vide Def. in Schol. to Prop. 13) there is also added that which arises from the effort to dispel the sorrow which hate involves (as shown i]i Prop. 37) ; and, in short, this effort is favored and strengthened by association with the idea of the per- son who was hated but who is now the cause of joy.

SciioL. — Although this be as just stated, still no one will strive to hate or to affect anything with sorrow with the view of himself enjoying a greater pleasure ; in other words, no one will desire to be injured in hope of being indemnified for it, nor to fall sick i]i hope of being cured. For every one always strives as far as possible to preserve his state of being and keep away sorrow. But if, on the contrary, it were possi- ble to conceive that a man could desire to hate another in order to love him more perfectly tliereafter, then should he always desire to hate him ; for the greater the hate the greater would be the love ; and therefore should he always desire that the hate should go on continually increasing. And if this be so, tlien should a man desire to be more and more sick in view of the greater pleasure to be enjoyed by his restoration to health, and consequently he should endeavor to be always sick, which (by Prop. 6) is absurd.

PAP.T III.— OF THE AFFECTIOXS OR PASSIONS. 173

PROP. XLY. — He avIio imagines one like him- self to be affeeted with hate for another like himself whom he loves, Avill hate the hater.

Demonstr. — For the object that is loved hates him who hates it (by Prop. 40) ; and, in the same way, the lover who imagines any one to hate the object he loves, may thereby imagine the object of his love to be affected with hate, that is (by Schol. to Prop. 18), with sorrow ; and consequently (by Prop. 21) he will himself experience grief, and this in concomitance with the idea of him who hates the beloved object as being the cause of his grief ; that is (by Schol. to Prop. 18j, he will hate the hater, q. e. i).

PROP. XLYI. — If Ave have been affected Avitb joy or sorroAv by a person of another class or nation- tlian onr OAvn, and if the idea of that person under the common name of liis class or nation accompanies oiir joy or sor- roAV as being the cause that produced it, avc Avill experience Ioa e or hate not only for that individual person, but also for the Avliole of his class or nation.

Deaioxstr. — The demonstration of this Proymsition is evident from Prop. IG.

PROP. XLYII. — The joA Avhich arises Avhen avc imagine that the object of oiir liate is de- stroyed or in some AA iiy injured, does not arise Avithout a feeling of sorroAV in the mind.

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DE:\roNSTR. — This is evident from Prop. 27. For in so far as we imagine a thing that resembles ourselves to be in sorrow, so far do we ourselves feel sorrow.

ScnoL. — This Proposition is also demonstrated in the Coroll, to Prop. 17, Part II. For as often as we remember a thing, although it may not then actually exist, 3’et do we contemplate it as present, and are cor2:)oreally affected by it in the same Avay as if it were ])resent. Wherefore, so far as a man remembers dis- tinctly a thing that he hates, so far is he disiiosed or intliienced to regard it sorrowfully ; which disposi- tion— the image of the thing continuing to subsist — is controlled but not destroyed by the recollection of other things which obscure or hide the existence of the image in question. Man, therefore, only rejoices in so far as this determination or disposition is con- trolled ; and hence it is that the joy which arises from an injury done to the object we hate, is renewed as often as that object is remembered. For, as we have said, whenever the image of the object hated is excited in the mind, inasmuch as the idea of its existence is involved, it disposes man to contemplate that object with the same hate or sorrow with which he was accus- tomed to regard it Avhen it really existed and was present. But because man associates with the image of the thing he hates images of other things which obscure or hide its existence, therefore is this disposi- tion to grieve immediately controlled, and man re- joices anew ; and this as often as a like occurrence is repeated. And it is from the same cause that men rejoice as often as they recall to mind past evils, and that they take pleasure in relating the perils from which they have been delivered. For when any jDar- ticular danger is imagined they contemplate it just as if it were prospective, and are thus disposed to dread

PART III.— OF THE AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS. 175

it ; but tliis disposition is controlled again by the idea ol* deliverance or escape Avliicli they associate Avith 2)ast dangers from AAdiich they AA^ere delivered, and so a sense of safety being restored they then rejoice aneAv.

PKOP. XLYIII. — Loa e and bate for an indi- vidual— say, for example, toAAards Peter — are annulled if the joy Avliicli the former and the sorroAv Avliieli the latter iiiAmh es are joined Avitli the idea of another cansi^ than Peter ; and each, again, Avill so tar be diminished as Peter is imagined not to liaA'e been the sole cause of either.

Demonstr. — This is evident from the Definition of LoA^e and Hate, AAdiich see in tlie Schol. to Proji. 18. For love is called joy and hate is called sorroAv in re- ference to Peter, from this alone, namely, — because Peter is considered to be the cause of one or the other of these affections or passions. Therefore the idea of Peter as cause being either Avholly or partially removed, the affection of Avhich Peter AA^as the object A\dll be Avholly or partially removed also. q. e. d.

PROP. XLIX. — The Ioac or hate toAAxards an object Avliich aa e imagine as free must be greater in either ease and for a like reason, than it Avoiild be for an object imagined as necessary.

Deaionstr. — A thing Avhich aa^c imagine as free must (by Def. 7, Part I.) be perceived by itself inde- pendently of other things. If, therefore, Ave imagine a free thing to be the cause of joy or soitoav to ns, it

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is on this ground alone (by Scliol. to Prop. 13) that we love or hate it, and this (by preceding Prop.) with the highest degree of love or hate that can arise from the passions named. But if the thing which is the clause of the affection be imagined as necessary, then (by same Del 7, Part I.) do we consider that it is not itself the sole cause of the affection experienced, but that other things have co-operated with it as cause ; consequently (by preceding Prop.) the love or hate v e feel towards it will be less. q. e. d.

ScTioL. — Hence it follows that men, because they l)elieve themselves to be free, feel greater love or hate for one another than for any other things. To the above, however, is to be added the imitation or coni- ninnication of affections or passions, in reference to which vide Props. 27, 34, 40, and 43.

PKOP. L. — Anything may by accident be a cause of hope or of fear.

Demoxstu. — This Proposition is demonstrated in the same way as Prop, lo, which see, — and also the Schol. to Prop. 18.

ScnoL. — Things that are accidentally causes of liope or fear are called good or had omens. And in so far as these omens are causes of hope or fear, in so far are they causes of joy or sorrow (by the Defs. of hope and feai\ which will be found in Schol. 2 to Prop. 18), and consequently (by Coroll, to Prop. 15) of love or of hate, and so we endeavor (by Prop. 28) either to use them as means to attain the object of our hopes, or to remove them as obstacles to our wishes and causes of our fears. Besides, it follows from Prop. 25 that Ave are so constituted by nature that Ave readily believe the things that AA^e hope for

PAirr III. — OF THE AFFECTIONS Oil PASSIONS. I'.?

and with difficulty give credit to those Ave dread, and also that aa’c judge more or less correctly in regard to these things. And thus it is that the superstitions which Mveiywhere distract mankind have arisen.

As to the rest, I do not think it Avorth Avhile to shoAv here the fiuct nations of mind AAdiich arise from hope and fear, seeing that it folloAvs from the A^ery definition of these passions that hope is never Avitli- oiit fear, nor fear AAUthout hope (as Avill be more fully explained in the proper place) ; and further, that Ave love or hate anything in so far as Ave feel hope or fear in connection AAUth it ; — so that all AA^e have noAv said concerning love and hate eveiy one may easily apply to hope and fear.

I^EOP. LI. — Different ineii may be differently affected by one and the same object ; and the same man may at different times be differently affected by the same object.

Deaionstii. — The human body (by Post. 3, Part II.) is affected in A^ery many AATiys by external bodies. Tavo men, therefore, may be differently affected at the same time, and (by Ax. 1 after Lem. 3, Avhich fol- loAvs Prop. 13, Part II.) they may also be differently affected by one and the same object. Again : (by the same Post.) the human body may be affected some- times in one Avay and sometimes in another; and con- sequently (by the same Ax.) it may be affected b}^ the same object in a different Avay at different times.

E. T).

SciioL. — AVe S(‘e therefore Iioav it comes to pass that Avhat one loves another hates, and Avhat one fears another does not fear ; and also that one and the same man now loA'es Avhat he had before hated,.

12

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and now bravely dares to do Avhat he had fornn'rly feared to attempt, ete. Further, as every one Judges according to Ids oAvn affections or desires what is good, Avhat bad, what better, Avhat worse {i)lde Schol. to Prop. 39), it follows that men may vary in their judgments as Avell as in their affections and henc(‘ it happens that Avhen Ave compare men with one an- other and Avith ourselves, Ave distingnish them by the difference of their affections alone, and AA’e call thest* bold, those timid, and others Ave designate by olher names. For example : I call him intrepid AAdio de- spises an eAnl Avliich I am acenstomed to fear ; and if I notice, farther, that his desire to do evil to Avhat In^ hates and good to Avhat he loves is not restrained by the fear of some eAdl Avhich, ordinarily, Avonld re- strain myself, I call him andacions. Again, he Avho dreads an eAol Avhicli I am acenstomed to brave, Avill appear to me timid; and if 1 notice, fiirthei', that he is restrained in his desires by the fear of an evil Avhich does not I'estrain me, I Avonld say that he is ])asillanimons ; and so on, — each one, like myself, judging of others according to his oaaui affections.

In short, it is from this constitution of hnman na- ture, and this variableness of man's judgments, that he oftentimes judges of things solely by his affec- tions; and that things AAdiich he believes conduce to joy or sorrow, and Avhich \u) therefore (by Prop. 28) endeavors to ])romote or to put aAvay from himself, are often Avholly imaginary. Xot to S2)eak here of Avhat has l)een shown in the Second Part touching the uncertainty of things, — it is easy to conceive man as b(ung often himself the cause of his grieving or his

" N. B. — Tliat this may ba so, although the human soul is part of the Divine Intelligence, Ave have sliown in the Schol. to Prop. 17, Part II. Spinoza.)

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rejoicing; tliat is to say, tlie sorrow and joy lie ex- periences are associated with the idea of himself as cause. And hereby we can easily understand ivliere- in repentance {poenitentla) and acquiescence or seJf- content {acquiescentia) consist. Repentance is a sor- row or grief, and self-content is a joy or satisfaction, in each case accompanied by the idea of one\s-self as its cause ; and these passions have great force because men believe themselves free {ride Prop. 49).

PROP. LIT. — All object whicdi we have once seen along Avith other objects, or Avhich we imagine to have nothing but Avhat is com- mon to many objects, avc do not observe so long or attentively as Ave do one that Ave imagine has something that is peculiar to itself.

DeaioxstPv. — When we imagine any object tliat W(; have once seen along with other objects, Ave forthwith remember those others (by Prop. 18 and its SchoL, Part II.), and so from the contemplation of one we fall into the contemplation of the others. And it is the same with an object wliicli we imagine to have nothing that is not common to many. For Ave then suppose that AA^e perceive nothing in it that Ave have not before observed in others. But if Ave suppose that AA^e perceive in a particular object something Ave have never seen before, Ave then say that the mind, Avhilst contemxilating that object, has no other object in it that can make it ji^^ss from the contemplation of the one in question to the contemplation of anotlier or others, and consequently it aauU be determined to contemplate that object exclusively. Therefon^, an object, etc. q. e. d.

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SciiOL. — This affection of the mind or soul, viz. : the imagination of a particular thing— in so far as it occupies the soul to the exclusion of every other image — is called astonislLinent or admiration {admi- ratio) ; but if the affection is excited in us by an object which we fear, it is then called alarm {conster- natio\ because astonishment in presence of an evil holds a man in such a state of suspense through mere self-contemplation that he is incapable of thinking of any means by which he might escape the evil he fears. But if the object of our admiration be the 2)rudence or industry of a man, or anything of that sort, then, and because we contemplate him as far excelling ourselves, we give to our admiration the name of respect iveneratio). Otherwise, if the object of our astonishment be a man's anger, envy, etc., we call it horror^ or aversion {Jiorror). Further, when we admire the prudence, industry, etc., of a man whom we love, our love is thereby increased (by Pro23. 12), and this love in combination with admira- tion or respect we call reference (dexotio). And in the same manner we can also conceive hate, hope, security, and other affections combined with aston- ishment or admiration ; so that a greater number of affections could be deduced from these combinations than there are words in common use to exjDress ; which shows that the names of affections or 23assions have been formed from words in common use rather than from careful study or accurate knowledge of the affections themselves.

Admiration is opjiosed to contempt (contemtus\ and most generally arises from this : that we see some one admire, love, fear, etc., a certain thing, — or from this : that a certain thing appearing to us at first sight to resemble something which we admire, love,

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tear, etc., we are Prop. 15 with its Coroll, and Prop. 27) determined to admire, love, fear, etc., this same thing. Bat if, through the presence of that thing, or more careful survey or contemplation of it, we iierceive that it does not ])Ossess anything that can excite our admiration, love, fear, etc., then is the soul determined by the presence of the thing in question to think ratlier of the qualities it does not possess than of those it does. The contrary of this, however, liappens when, with the object present, we notice par- ticularly that it has the qualities which we had con- ceived it to possess. Moreover, just as respect {devo- tio) proceeds from our admiration of the thing w^^ love, so does derision [irrisid) arise from the contempt we feel for an object we hate or fear, and disdain {dedifjnatio)^ from our contenqit of folly or stupiditj", — just as reverence arises from our admiration of pru- dence or wisdom. And, to conclude, we can conceive love, hope, glory, and other affections or passions conjoined with contempt, and deduce from this union still other affections which we are not accustomed to distinguish by separate names.

PROP. LIII. — When the soul contemplates it- self and its power of action, it rejoices ; and this so much the more as it imagines itself and its power of action more dis- tinctly.

Demonstr. — Man knows himself only through the affections of his body and the ideas of these affections (by Props. 19 and 23, Part II.). When the soul there- fore contemplates itself, it is supposed to pass there- by to a state of greater perfection, that is (by Schol. to Prop. 11), it is supposed to be joyfully affected ;

,o 7-

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and this so much the more as it more distinctly imagines both itself and its power of action, q. e. d.

CoKOLE. — The more a man imagines himself to be ])raisedby others the more is this joy nourished in Ids sonl. For the more he imagines himself to be praised hy others the greater he imagines the joy to be that others experience through him, and this supposed joy is associated Avith the idea of himself as cause (by Schol. to Prop. 29) ; consequently (by Prop. 27), the greater will be the joy with which he is himself affected, accompanied by the idea of himself, q. e. d.

PROP. LIT. — The soul eiideaAors to imagine those things only which affirm its poAver of action.

DemoxstPv. — The effort or power of the sonl is the A'ery essence of the sonl itself (by Prop. 7). But the essence of the sonl (as is evident) affirms that only which the sonl is, and is able to do ; and not that which it is not, and cannot do. Therefore the sonl endeavors to imagine those things only which affirm its power of action, q. e. n.

PROP. LT. — AVhen the soul imagines its own impotency, it is grieA^ed thereby.

Demoxstu. — The essence of the sonl affirms that only Avhich the sonl is and can do ; in other words, it is of the nature of the sonl to imagine those things only Avhich affirm or snppose its poAver of action (by ])receding Prop.). bVhen, therefore, AA^e say that the sonl in contemplating itself imagines its OAvn inca- ])acity to act, Ave say nothing else than that the sonl Avhilst it endeavoi s to imagine something AAdiich af-

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firms its poAver of action feels its effort restrained, or (by Scliol. to Prop. 11) that it is grieimd. q. e. h.

Co POLL. — This grief is still further increased if wp imagine that Ave are blamed by others, — AA'liich is d(^- nionstrated in the same AA'ay as the Coroll, to Prop. 53.

SciioL. — Snell grief accompanied by the idea of onr oAAHi imbecilit}" is called TiUiniUty (Ii umiUtas) ; AAdiilst the joy that arises from the contemplation of onr- seh’es is called self -lorn or self -content {phllautla tel acqulesceritla) . And as this joy is rejirodnced as often as man contemplates his oaahi Adrtnes or po\Axrs of action, it therefore happens that almost eA^ery one likes to speak of his OAAm actions and to sIioaa' off his bodily and mental poAA’ers ; and on this account men often make themselAms disagreeable to one another. For the same reason, also, men are naturally en- A’ioiis of one another {vide Schols. to Props. 24 and 32), and disposed to rejoice at the incomj^etency or infirmities of their felloAA^s ; and, on the contrary, to grieA^e at their Adrtnes or poAAers. For as often as any one imagines his oaahi (satisfactory) actions, so often is he affected AAdth joy (by Prop. 53), — and this so much the greater in the degree that the actions express more of perfection and are more distinctly imagined ; that is (by AAdiat has been said in Schol. 1 to Prop. 40, Part II.), the more he is able to distin- gnish them from others and to contemplate them as indiAddnal things. 'AA'herefore the greatest pleasure any one can have in contemplating himself is Avhen he regards himself as possessing some capacity that is denied to others. Bat if AAdiat one affirms of him- self is referred to the general idea of man or animals, the pleasure or satisfaction he feels Avill be much lessened ; on the contrary, he AAdll be grieved or dis- satisfied, if, in comparing his oaaui actions Avith those

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of others, he imagines his own to be inferior ; anti in tliat case (by Prop. 28) he may endeavor to overcome iiis grief or discontent by interpreting the actions of his fellows wrongfully, or by embellishing and extol- ling his own as much as possible. It appears, there- fore, that men are naturally inclined to hatred and envy, and this tendency is often strengthened by education, — for it is a habit of parents to excite the virtues or powers of their children by the stimulus of envy and distinction alone. But to this, perchance, there may remain an objection, viz. : — that we fre- (piently admire and even venerate men for their virtues. Therefore to remove this objection I add the following Corollary.

CoKOLL. — Xo one envies the virtues of another un- less an equal.

Demonstk. — Envy is hatred itself {i)ide Schol. to Prop. 24) ; in other words (by Scliol. to Prop. 13), it is a sorrow, or (by Schol. to Prop. 11) an atfection by which man’s power of action or effort is repressed. But man (by Schol. to Prop. 9) makes no effoi t and has no desire that does not result from his own na- ture. Therefore no one will desire to affirm of him- self any power of action, or (which is the same thing) any virtue that is peculiar to the nature of another and foreign to his own ; and so he does not repress any desire, that is (by Schol. to ProjD. 11), he is not vexed or grieved Avhen he contemplates a certain vir- tue or 130 wer in another avIio does not resemble him- self ; and consequently he cannot be envious of such an one. But he can be envious of one avIio is his equal and who is supposed to be of the same nature as himself. Q. e. d.

Schol. — When therefore we said, in the Schol. to Prop. 52, that we respect a man because we admire

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his prudence, liis fortitude, etc., it is because he has these virtues in a singular or high degree, and not be- cause we imagine them as common to his nature and our own ; and consequently we envy him those vir- tues no more than we envy trees their height, lions their strength, etc.

PKOP. LYI. — There are as many kinds of joy,

' sorrow, and desire, and consequently of af- fections or passions tliat are conipoiinded of these, as also kinds of huctiiation of soul and derivatives from these, namely: — love, liatc, hope, fear, etc., as there are kinds of objects by which we arc affected.

Deuonstk. — Joy and sorrow, and consequent!}^ the affections compounded of these or derived from them, are passions (by Schol. to Prop. 11). Now (by Prop. 1), we necessarily suffer in so far as we have inadequate ideas, and it is only in so far as we have inadequate ideas that we do suffer (by Proj). 3) ; that is to say {vide Schol. to Prop. 40, Part II.), we neces- sarily suffer only in so far as we imagine or are af- fected by a iiassion which involves the nature of our own body and the nature of an external body {vide Prop. 17, Part II. and its Schol.). The nature of each individual passion must therefore necessarily be ex- plained in such a way that it will ex])ress the nature of the object by which we are affected. For example : tile joy which arises from an object — say A, involves the nature of the object A ; and the joy which arises from the object B involves the nature of the object B ; and therefore these two affections or passions of joy are of different natures inasmuch as they arise from

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causes of a different nature. So also is the passion of sorrow wliicli arises from one object different in its nature from the sorrow which arises from anotlier object ; and the same is to be understood of love, hare, hope, fear, fluctuation of soul, etc. ; so that there are necessarily as many kinds of joy, sorrow, love, hate, etc., as there are kinds of objects by which Ave are affected.

Blit desire is itself the very essence or nature of every one of them, in so far as they are severally con- cehmd to be determined by their constitution or na- ture to act in a particular Avay {vide Schol. to Prop. 9) ; therefore according as each individual is affected by this or that external ca :ise with this or that kind of joy, sorrow, love, hate, etc., that is, according as his nature is constituted in this or that way, so must the nature of one desire necessarily differ from the nature of another desire, but only in so far as the af- fection or passion from Avhicli it arises differs from anotlier affection or passion. There are, therefore, as many kinds of desire as there are kinds oi joy, sor- row, love, etc.; and consequently (as shown) as many as there are kinds of objects by which Ave are affected.

(^ E. D.

SciioL. — Among the different kinds of affections or ])assions, — AAdiich (by preceding Prop.) must indeed be very numerous, — there are some that are particu- larh" remarkable, such as gluttony {luxw'ia)^ drunk- enness, lust, aAmrice, and ambition. These are but forms of love or desire, AAdiich explain the nature of' each particular affection or passion by the object to Avliich it is referred. For bj^ gluttony, drunkenness, lust, avarice, and ambition Ave understand nothing more than an immoderate love of feasting, drinking, sexual indulgence, riches, and glory. Moreover these

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])assions, in so far as tliey are clistingnisliecl from one another solely tlie objects to they are re-

feirecl, have no opposites. For moderation, wliich vre are accustomed to oppose to gluttony, sobriety to driudvenness, and cliastity to Inst, are not affections or passions, bat only indicate the i)ower whereby the sonl moderates the passions.

As to various other kinds of affections, I cannot enter upon an ex2:)]anation of them here (for they are as numerous as the objects that produce them), nor if I should, would there be any necessity to do so. For with the purpose I have in view, which is to de- termine the force of the affections or passions and the power of the soul over them, it will be sufficient if we have a general definition of each affection or pas- sion. It Avill suffice, I say, for ns to understand the common properties of the affections and of the soul, to be enabled to determine the nature and extent of the power Avhich the soul possesses to moderate and control the passions. Although therefore there may be a great difference between this and that affection of lov^e, hate, or desire, — as, for example, — betAveen love for children and love for a Avife, yet there is no occasion for us to ascertain these differences and to further investigate the nature and origin of the pas- sions.

PROP. LVII. — The passion of one individual differs from the passion of anotlier only in so far as the essence of one individual dif- fers from the essence of another.

Deaioxstk.— This Proposition is manifest by Axiom 1, Avhich see after Lem. 8 of the Schol. to Prop. 18, Part II. Xevertheless Ave shall proceed to demon-

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strate it from the definitions of the three primary affections or passions.

All the passions are referred to desire^ joy^ and sorrow^ — as shown in the dehnitions we have given of these. But desire is itself the very nature or essence of each passion {vide Def. of desire in the Scbol. to Prop. 9). Therefore the desire of one individual dif- fers from that of another individual only in so far as the nature or essence of one differs from the essence of another. Again, joy and sorrow are passions by which the power or effort of each individual to per- severe in his state of being is augmented or diminished, favored or hindered (by Prop. 11 and its Schol.V But by this effort to persevere in his being, in so far as it is referred to both soul and body, we understand appetite or desire {vide Schol. to Prop. 9). Therefore joy and sorrow are themselves desire or appetite, in so far as they are augmented or diminished, favored or hindered by external causes ; in other words (by same Schol.), desire is itself the nature of each; so that the jo}’ or sorrow of one individual differs from the joy or sorrow of another only in so far as the nature or essence of one individual differs from the essence of another ; and consectuently the passion of one individual differs from the passion of another indivi- dual only in so far as, etc. q. e. i).

SciiOL. — Hence it follows that the passions of ani- mals, which are said to be without reason (for know- ing the source of the soul we cannot doubt that beasts have feeling), differ from the passions of men as much as their nature differs from human nature. Man and the horse alike burn with the desire by which they procreate their kind, but the one is equine, the other liuman lust. And so must the lusts and appetites of insects, birds, and fishes differ according to the

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different natures of each. Although each individual therefore lives coiiteutedly and enjoys life in the way its own nature determines, nevertheless, that life and that eiijoymeut with Avhich each is contented are nothing but the idea or soul of the individual ; and so the enjoyment of one only differs in nature from the enjoyment of another in so far as the essence of one differs from the essence of another. Lastly, it follows from the preceding Proposition that the dif- ference is not trivial between the enjoyment which the drunkard, for example, has in his drunkenness and that which the iffiilosopher has in his studies and reflections ; a remark which in passing I desired to make. This completes what I had to say of the affec- tions which are referred to man in so far as he suffers. It remains for me to add a few words on those which are referred to him in so far as he acts.

PllOP. LYlIl. — Besides the joy and desire which are passions, there are other joys and desires whicli arc referred to ns in so far as we act,

Demonstr. — When the soul conceives itself and its power of action, it is rejoiced (by Prop. 53). But the soul necessarily contemplates itself when it con- ceives true or adequate ideas (by Prop. 43, Part II.). Xow the soul does conceive some adequate ideas (by the Schol. 2 of Prop. 40, Part II.). It is therefore l ejoiced in so far as it conceives such adequate ideas, — that is to say (by Prop. 1), in so far as it acts. Fur- ther, the soul, whether it has clear and distinct, or confused ideas, endeavors to persevere in its state of b(4ng (by Prop. 9) ; — but by endeavor we understand desire (by Schol. to same Prop.). Therefore desire is

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referred to ns in so far as we understand and also by Prop. 1) in so far as we act. e. i).

PROP. LTX. — Among all the affections or pas- sions referred to the soul in so far as it acts, there are none that are not referable to joy or to desire.

Demoxstr. — All the affections or jiassions are le- ferable to desire, to joy, or to sorrow, — as shown in the detinitions we liave given of these. By pain, grief, or sorrow, however, we understand that which diminishes or restrains the soul's power to think (by Prop. 11 and its Schol. ) ; consequent!}^ — in so far as the soul is grieved, in so far is its power of under- standing, that is (by Proj). 1), its power of acting, diminished or resti*ained ; — therefore no sorrowful or painful affection can be referred to the soul in so far as it acts, but only joyful affections and desires can (by jDreceding Prfqi.) be so referied to the soul. (^ E. D.

SciiOL. — All actions that follow from affections or passions refeiavd to the soul in so far as it under- stands I ascribe to fortitude {fortitudo), which I dis- tinguish into courage {animositas) and generosity (generositas). I understand by courage that desire whereby every one endeavoi's to preserve his being by the dictates of reason alone ; and by generosity that desire whereby every one endeavors to aid and live in friendship with other men by the dictates of reason alone- Those actions therefore that tend solely to the advantage of the actor, I refer to courage ; and those that tend to the advantage of other men also, I refer to generosity. So that modeiation, sobriety, presence of mind in the face of danger, etc., are

I

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species of courage, — whilst modesty, clemenc}", etc., are s|)ecies of generosity.

It seems to me now that I liave explained and re- ferred to their first causes the principal affections and fiuct nations of the soul that arise from the combina- tions of the three primary passions, viz. : Desire, Joy, and Sorrow. It will be seen thereby that we are liable to be affected in a great many ways by ex- ternal causes, and that like the sea, agitated by oi)posing and changing winds, we are tossed to and fro in ignorance of the issues of events and of our destiny.

I have explained, I .say, the principal, but not by any means all the confiicting affections and fiuctua- tions of the soul. But, proceeding in the same way as above, it would be easy to show love combined with repentance or regret, disdain, shame, etc. I believe, indeed, that from what has been already said, every one will now admit that it is clearly estab- lished that the affections may l)e combined with each other in so many ways that vaiieties would arise too numerous to be defined. But it has sufficed for my [)urpose to have enumerated only the ones ;

and as to those I have omitted to speak of, an inves- tigation of them would bo rather a matter of curiosity than of utility. It remains to be observed of love, howevei', that it frequently ha])2:)ens, whilst enjoying the thing we desire, that the body acquires by such fruition a new constitution which gives it new deter- minations, so that other images of things are excited in us, and, as a consequenct\ the soul b(\a-ins at once to imagine and to desire inov things. For example — Avhen Ave imagine something the taste of which for- merly gave us i)leasure, we desir(‘ to ])artake of and enjoy it again. But aft(T we have done so and the

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stomach is tilled, then the body becomes otherwise disposed. If now, the body being otherwise dis- posed, the image of the same viand is again present in the mind, and with it a desire and an effort to \mv- take of it, it will happen tliat the new constitution of tlie body will be opposed to this desire or effort, and consequently the presence of the food we befori^ desired and enjoyed will now become disagreeable to ns ; this is what is characterized as loatliinr) and dia- ff ust {fastidlo et tcedio).

I have also omitted to notice the outward affections of the body which are observed in passions, snch as tremor, sobbing, laughing, etc., because

they are referred solely to the body and have no relation to the soul. Something, however, remains to be said in the Avay of definition of the several x:»as- sions, and for this purpose I shall arrange them here in succession, interposing snch explanations as may be suitable to each.

DEFIXITIOXS OF THE PASSIOXS.

1. Desipe {cupiditas) is the very essence of man in so far as he is conceived as determined by any given affection to do some action.

Explanation. — We have said in the Schol. to Prop. 9 that desire is appetite with consciousness of the same, and that appetite is the very essence of man in so far as he is determined to do those actions Avhich serve for his preservation. But Ave have also said in that same Scholium that we did not recognize any real difference between human desire and appe*- tite. For whether man is or is not conscious of his appetites, still apiietite remains one and the same ; and fearing therefore to commit a seeming tan to-

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logy I was unwilling to explain desire by appetite, but was studious to define it in such a way that all the efforts of our human nature which we signify by the names of appetite, will, desire, and impulse, might be comprehended in one definition. For I might have said that desire is the very essence of man in so far as he is conceived as determined to any action ; but it would not have followed from this definition (by Prop. 23, Part II.) that the soul was conscious of its desire or appetite. Therefore in order that the cause of the consciousness might be included in my definition, it was necessary (by same Prop.) to add : “in so far as he is determined by any given affec- tion,” etc. For by an affection of the essence of man we understand a certain state or constitution of that essence, whether it be innate, or be conceived by the attribute of thought alone, or by the attribute of extension alone, or lastly, be referred to both of these attributes at once. Wherefore under the name of desire I understand efforts, impulses, appetites, and volitions of every kind, which vary with the varying constitution of man, and are not unfrequently so opposed to each other that man is drawn in many different ways, and knows not whither to turn or what course to pursue.

v2. Joy {Icefitia) is the transition of man from a less to a greater perfection.

3. SoPviiOW {tristitia) is the transition of man from a greater to a less perfection.

'Expl. — I say transition^ for joy is not itself perfec- tion. For if man was born with that perfection to which he passes, he might possess it without any affection of joy, — a proposition that will appear more- clearly from the affection of sorrow, which is the con- trary of joy. For no one can deny that sorrow con-

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sists ill the transition to a lesser state of perfection, and not in that lesser ])erfection itself, since man can- not grieve in so far as he partakes of any perfection whatsoever. IS" either can we say that sorrow consists in the privation of a greater perfection, — for privation is nothing. But sorrow, grief, is the act of an affec- tion, which act can be no other than the act of transi- tion to a lesser state of perfection ; in other words, an act by Avhich man’s power of action is diminished or restrained {mde Schol. to Prop. 11). For the rest, I omit here any definition of hilarity {Ml ar it as), plea- sure {titillatio)^ melancholy {melancliolia), and pain {dolor), because these are all chietiy referable to the body and are nothing but species of joy and •sorrow.

4. Astonishment, AdmiPvATIon {admiratio) is that imagination of a particular thing which fascinates and liolds the attention of the mind or soul so fixedly that this particular imagination has no connection with any others {i^lde Prop. 52 and its Schol.).

Expl. — In the Schol. to Prop. IS, Part II., we have shown the reason why the mind from tlie contempla- tion of one thing passes immediately to the contem- ])lation of another, namely, because the images of these things are so connected with each other and •arranged in such order that one follows another. This, however, cannot be conceived to occur when the mind contemplates for the first time a thing that is new to it. In that case the attention of the mind will be arrested and held fast until other causes determine it to think of other things. The imagination there- fore of a thing that is new to us is of the same natun* considered in itself as all other imaginations ; and on tliis account I do not include admiration among the "affections, — nor do I see any reason why I should, see-

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iiig that this drawing or concentration of tlie imagi- nation upon one object arises from no positive cause disjoining the mind from the contemplation of other tilings, but only from this : that a cause is wanting which would determine the mind to pass from the contemplation of one object to thought of another. 1 recognize therefore (as I have already said in the Schol. to Prop. 11) only three primitive or primary passions, viz., — Joy, Sorrow, and Desire; and if I have spoken of Admiration it is for no other reason than that it is customary to indicate certain passions derived from the three primitives by other and spe- cial names when they are referred to objects which we admire. And for the same reason I am induced to add here a definition of contempt.

5. Contempt {contemtus) is that imagination of anything which aifects the soul in so slight a degree that the soul is more moved by the presence of the thing to imagine what does not belong to it than what does {vide Schol. to Prop. 52).

I omit here definitions of Veneration (veneratlo) and Disdain ( dedignatio)^ because no affections that I know of derive their names from these.

6. Love {amor) is joy accompanied by the idea of its external cause.

Expl. — This definition explains clearly enough the essence of love. Writers who have defined love to be the will or wish of the lover to be united to the object loved express a property of love but not its essence ; and inasmuch as these writers have not fully dis- cerned the essence of love they have not been able to form any clear conception of ifs properties, so that the definitions hitherto given of love have generally been deemed exceedingly obscure. I beg however to observe here, that when I say it is the property of

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love for the lover to will or desire to be united to the object loved, I do not understand by loill or imsli a consent, deliberate purpose, or free decision of the sonl (for that is tictitious, as I have demonstrated in Prop. 48, Part II.) ; neither do I understand it to be the desire of the lover to unite himself with the object loved when absent, or of continuing in its presence when near (for love can be conceived to exist without this or that desire) ; but I understand by will or desire that contentment or satisfaction which the lover feels in the presence of the object loved, and which strengthens or at least nourishes the joy he feels in his love.

7. Hate (odium) is sorrow accomiianied by the idea of its external cause.

Expl. — The remarks that might be made on hate will be easily perceived by what has been said in the explanation to the preceding definition of love. See, besides, the Schol. to Prop. 13.

- 8. Likixg (yropensio) is joy accompanied by the idea of an object which is accidentally the cause of joy.

9. Aveksiox, Dislike {aversio), is a feeling of sor- row accompanied by the idea of a thing which is acci- dentally the cause of sorrow. On these two passions, vide Schol. to Prop. 15.

10. Deyotiox (devotio) is love for an object we ad- mire.

Expl. — We have shown in Prop. 52 that admiration arises from the novelty of a thing. If it haiijiens therefore that we very frequently imagine an object that Ave admire, we will cease to admire it ; which shows that the passion or feeling of devotion easily degenerates into simple love.

11. Derisiox, Mockery (irrisio)^ is a joy arising

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from our imagining sometliing we despise in the thing we hate.

Expl. — In so far as we despise the thing we hate, in so far do we negative its existence {mde Schol. to Prop. 52), and in so far (by Prop. 20) do we exi:>e- rience joy. But as we suppose that a man must hate what he despises, it follows that this joy is not real {rdde Schol. to Prop. 47).

12. Hope {spes) is an uncertain joy arising from the idea of something past or to come, of the issue of which we are more or less in doubt.

13. Fear {metus) is an inconstant sorrow which arises from the idea of something past or to come, of the issue of which we are more or less in doubt. Vide Schol. 2 to Prop. 18.

Expl. — It follows from these two definitions that there is no hope Avithout fear, and no fear Avithout hope. For he AAdio lives in hope pending the issue of an event, and doubts Avhether it aauII correspond Avith his desires, is supposed to imagine something which excludes the existence of a future thing ; in so far therefore Avill he be grieved (by Prop. 19), — and conse- quently so long as he lives in hope as to the issue of an event, so long does he fear. On the other hand, he Avho fears, i.c., AAdio doubts of the happening of something he dislikes, also imagines something AAdiicii excludes the existence of the thing he dislikes ; in so far therefore does he rejoice (by Prop. 20), and conse- quently lives in hope that it aauII not happen.

• 14. Security {securitas) is a joy arising from the idea of something past or to come, about Avhich all cause for doubt is remoA^ed.

15. Despair (desperatid) is soitoav arising from the idea of a thing jiast or to come, in reference to Avhicli all cause of doubt has disappeared.

Expl. — Security, therefore, is born from hope, and

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despair from fear, when cause for doubt about the issue of an event is banished ; and this happens when man imagines a past or future thing as existing and c.ontemplates it as present, — or wlien he imagines other things which exclude the existence of that which occasioned doubt. For although we can never (by Coroll, to Prop. 81, Part II.) be certain of the issues of i^articular things, it may still happen that we will have no doubt of their issues. For we have shown {vide Prop. 49, Part II.) that to have no doubt of a thing is quite different from being certain of it ; and so it may happen that in imagining a thing past or to come we will experience the same affection of joy or of sorrov/ as a thing present would cause us, — as we have demonstrated in Prop. 18, and its Scholiums, which see.

16. Gladxess, Delight {gaudmm\ is joy accom- panied by the idea of a past thing which has hap- pened against our hopes.

17. Pemokse {conscienticB onorsus) is sorrow accom- panied by the idea of a past thing which has hap- pened contrary to expectation.

18. CoMMiSERATiox {covimiseratio) is sorrow ac- ' companied by the idea of some evil that has befallen another whom we imagine like unto ourselves {vide Scliol. to Prop. 22 and Schol. to Prop. 27).

Expl. — Between commiseration and pity {miseri- cordia) there seems to be no difference, unless it be that commiseration is referred to an individual affec- tion, and pity to an habitual disposition.

19. Favor, Approbatiox” {fador)^ is love for one who does good to another.

20. IxDiGXATiox {indignat id) is hate for a person who does evil to another.

Expl. — I am aware that these words as commonly used have a different signification. But it is not my

PART III. — OF THE AFFECTIOXS OR PASSIONS. lOJ

])iirpose to explain the meaning of words, but tlie nature of things, and to indicate this by words the meaning of which as commonly used does not wholly differ from the meaning I would attach to tliem. Let it sutlice that I give notice of this once for all."^ As to the causes of these two affections, vide Schol. to Prop. 22 and the Coroll. 1 to Prop. 27.

21. Over-Esteew {exist iniatlo) consists in thiidv- ing, through too much love of a person, more liighly of him -than is just.

22. Depreciation {despectm') consists in thinking too unjustly of one through hate of him.

Expl. — Esteem therefore is an effect or property of love, as depreciation is of hate. Consequently, over- esteem may be defined as love so disposing men that they think more highly of the object loved than is just ; and, on the contrary, depreciation may be de- fined as hate so disiiosing men that they think less fa- vorably of the object hated than is just. Vide Schol. to Prop. 26.

23. Envy {invidia) is hate, inasmuch as it disposes a man to be grieved at another s success or happi- ness, and, on the other hand, to be rejoiced at an- other’s failure or misfortune.

Expl. — Pity, Sympathy (misericordia), is com- monly opposed to envy, and therefore, notwithstand- ing the meaning usually attached to the word, it may be defined thus :

* The announcement here made hy Spinoza that he designates the several affections or passions by words the meaning of which as com- monly used does not loholly differ from the meaning he attaches to them, implies that there is in some cases a difference. In fact this is quite apparent in several instances, and therefore throughout this and the next Part the Latin word is generally given in connection with its translation. — Tr.

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24. Sympathy is love, inasmuch as it disposes a man in such a way that he rejoices at the prosperity or happiness of another, and, on the contrary, grieves over another’s misfortune.

Expl. — See furtlier in relation to Envy tlie Scliol. to Prop. 24, and the Schol. to Prop. 32.

Thus far the several alfections or jiassions of joy and sorrow which I have defined are all accompanied by the idea of some external thing which is either of itself or by accident the cause of them. I now pass on to the affections accompanied by the idea of some- thing interiml as cause.

25. Self-satisf ACTION {acquiescent la) is joy aris- ing from man’s contemiffation of himself and his jiowers of action.

26. Humility {liiimilitas) is sorrow springing from man’s contemplating his own impotency or imbe- cility.

Expl. — Self-satisfaction is the opposite of humil- ity, in so far as we understand by it a jo}^ arising from the contemplation of our power of action ; but if we understand by it a joy accompanied by the idea of an action Avhich we believe we have per- formed by a free decision of our soul, then is it the opposite of repentance^ which we define in this Avay :

27. Repentance (poenitentla) is sorrow accom- lianied by the idea of an action which we think we liave performed by a free decision of the soul.

Expl. — We have shown the causes of these last two passions in the Schol. to Prop. 51 and Props. 53, 54, 55, and the Scholium to the latter. As to the free- dom of the decisions of the soul, mde Schol. to Prop. 35, Part II. But we have to remark here, in addi- tion, that it is not surprising that all the actions which we are accustomed to call lorong should be ac-

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companiecl by sorrow, and those we call ricjlit by joy ; for that this depends very much on education is readily understood from what has been said above. It is indisputable that parents by condemning certain actions and often reprimanding their children for committing them, and, on the other hand, by prais- ing and approving other actions, have brought it to pass that sorrowful emotions are associated with the former, and joyful emotions with the latter. This is confirmed by experience. For habit and religion are not the same for all men ; but, on the con- trary, what is deemed sacred by some is regarded as profane by others, and Avhat is considered hon- orable by some is thought to be base by others. Each one, therefore, according to the community in wliich he lives and as he is educated, either repents or glorifies himself for the same action.

28. Pride {superhia) consists of thinking more highly of one’s-self through self-love than is right.

Expl. — Pride therefore differs from esteem {exisii- matio)^ which has relation to an external object, whilst pride is referred to the very xierson who thinks more highly of himself than is i3roper. Moreover, just as esteem is an effect or property of love for another, so is pride an effect or property of self-love. We may therefore pride to be self -lore or self-esteem in-

fiuencing man in such wise that he thinks more highly of himself than he should {ride Schol. to Prop. 26). There is no opposite to this passion ; for no one, through hatred of himself and as he imagines that he cannot do this or that thing, thinks less fa- vorably of himself than is just. For whatever a man imagines he cannot do, he necessarily imagines ; and this imagination disposes him in such a way that he cannot do what he imagines he cannot do. For so

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long as he imagines tliat lie cannot do this or that, so long is he undetermined to action, — and consequently so long is it impossible for him to do the thing in question. And yet if we have regard to matters that depend solely on opinion, it is possible for us to con- ceive that a man may think less favorably of himself than he ought. For it is very possible that a man who sorrowfully contemplates his own want of ability may imagine that he is despised by everybody, — whilst the fact may be that there is nothing that any one is thinking less of than of despising him. Fur- thermore, a man may think less favorably of himself than is just if he denies to himself the ability to do something at the present time of which as regards the future he is uncertain, — such, for instance, as deny- ing that it is xiossible for him ever to know anything with certainty, or that he should ever desire or do anything that is not base and sinful, etc. Finally, we may say that a man thinks less well of himself than is just when through excessive modesty or tim- idity he is afraid to attempt certain things which others, his equals, do not hesitate to undertake. We might therefore oppose to pride the atfection or pas- sion which we shall designate as self-abasement or abjection; for as pride springs from self-esteem, so does self-abasement spring from humility — and con- sequently we define it thus :

29. Self-abasemext, Ab.tectiox {abjectio), con- sists in one’s thinking, through sorrow, less well of himself than is just.

Expl. — Ordinarily, however, we oppose humility to pride ; but we then have more regard to the effects of these two passions than to their nature. For we are accustomed to call him proud who glorifies him- self to excess {mcle Schol. to Prop. 30), who speaks of

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himself only to praise his own virtues, and of others only to mention their vices, — who would have himself considered as above all others, and, in short, who assumes the manner and bearing of those who are far above him in rank and distinction. On the contraiy, we call him hnndde who is meek, diffident, and given to blushing, who acknowledges his own defects and praises the virtues of others, who gives prece- dence to every one, and, linally, who moves about in a submissive manner, and makes no display of dress or personal adornment. These two passions of self- abasement and humility are, however, extremely rare ; for human nature, considered in itself, struggles against them as much as possible (?;/rZe Props. 15 and 54) ; and therefore it is that they who are believed to be the most abject and humble are frequently the most ambitious and envious.

30. GtLorv {gloria) is joy accomj^anied by the idea of some action of ours which we imagine others will jiraise.

31. SiiA^tE {pudor) is sorrow accompanied by the idea of an action which Ave imagine others Avill blame.

Expl. — In reference to these two affections see the Schol. to Prop. 30. But we have to note here the difference between shame and modesty. Shame is sorrow that follows an action of which we are our- selves ashamed. Modesty {verecuiidia) is that fear or dread of shame which restrains a man from com- mitting a shameful action. Ordinarily we oppose modesty to impudence {impudentia)^ Avhich lioweA^er is not really a passion, as I shall show in the proper place ; but the names given to the passions (as I have already said) have reference rather to their applica- tions than to their nature.

This completes all I proposed to say on the affec-

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tionsor passions of joy and sorrow ; and I now pass on to those that a]*e referred to desire.

32. Loxoixa {desideriuin) is desire or appetite for the possession of a thing fostered by remembrance of it, and at the same time restrained by the recollec- tion of other things which seclude the existence of the thing desired.

Expl. — When we remember any tiling we are there- by disposed, as I have frequently observed, to con- template it by the same affection as we should do if it were actually present. But this disposition or endeavor, whilst we are awake, is very often re- strained by the images of things which seclude the existence of the thing remembered. When therefore we remember a thing that has affected us with any kind of joy, we endeavor to contemplate that thing with the same pleasurable affection as if it were actually present, which endeavor, however, is imme- diately restrained by the recollection of things which seclude its existence. Wherefore longing is really a sorrow which is oiDposed to the joy arising from the absence of a thing we dislike. On this point see the Scliol. to Prop. 47. But as the word longing seems to be related to desire^ I have thought it proper to refer this affection to the passion of desire.

33. Ehulatiox (cemidatio) is the desire to do a certain thing, which desire is engendered in us because we imagine others to have the same desire.

Exg)l. — He who flees because he sees others fly, or who is affected with fear because he sees others afraid, or he who seeing another burn his hand draws his own quickly back and moves his body as if his own hand had been burnt, imitates the affection of another, but cannot be said to emulate him ; and this not because we attribute imitation to one cause and

PAET III.— OF THE AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS. 205

emulation to another, but because it is customary only to call him emulous who imitates what is re- puted to be honorable, useful, or agreeable. As to the cause of emulation, vide Prop. 27 with its Schol , — and for the reason why tliis passion is so commonly joined with envy, vide Prop. 32 and its Schol.

34. Thankfulness or Gratitude {grcdia sen grcdi- tudo) is that desire or movement of love b}^ which we endeavor to benefit him who through a like affection of love has conferred a benefit on us. Vide Prop. 39 and the Schol. to Prop. 41.

35. Benevolence iljenevolentia^ is the desire to benefit him who inspires us with pity. Vide Schol. 2 to Prop. 27.

36. Anger (/ru) is that desire which incites us to do injury to him whom we hate. Yide for this Prop. 39.

37. Vengeance (eindicta) is that desire which moves us through reciprocal hate to do injury to him who from a like passion would injure us. Yide Coroll. 2 to Prop. 40 and its Schol. '

38. Cruelty or Severity {crudeldas sen scevdia) is that desire which moves any one to do evil to him whom we love or pity.

Expl. — To severity is opjiosed clemency, which is not a x)assion, but a power of the soul by which man moderates his anger and vengeance.

39. Fear, Dread (timo'r), is the desire which leads us to evade a greater evil by submitting to a lesser one than that which we feared. Yide Schol. to Prop. 39.

40. Boldness, Daring {gicdacia), is that desire which incites a man to do some act or brave some danger feared by his equals.

41. Pusillanimity (pus Ulan imitas) consists in

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this : that the desire of a man is overpowered by the fear of a danger his equals dare to face.

Expl. — Pusillanimity is therefore nothing more than fear of some evil Avhich is not generally or universally dreaded. For this reason I do not refer it to the passion of desire. IS’evertheless I wished to explain it here, because in so far as regards desire it is really opposed to boldness or daring.

42. CoxsTERXATiox (coiisternatio) is the affection or passion experienced by him whose desire to escape an evil is restrained by the astonishment pro- duced by the evil he fears.

Expl. — Consternation is therefore a species of pusillanimity. But as it arises from a double fear, it may more conveniently be deffned to be that fear which so stupefies a man and holds him in such a state of irresolution that he cannot escape from the evil that confronts him. I say stupefies., in so far as we understand his desire to escape the evil to be hindered by his astonishment ; — and I say, also, makes him irresolute., in so far as we conceive the same desire to be restrained ])y the fear of another evil which menaces him with equal force, — so that he does not know which of the two he ought to shun. See on this point the Schols. to Props. 39 and 52. Also, on pusillanimity and holclness or daring^ see the Schol. to Prop. 51.

43. PoLiTEXESS OR CiYiLiiw {Jiumauitas sen mo- clestuL) is the desire to do what pleases, and to forbear doing Avhat displeases others.

44. Ambition {amhitio) is immoderate desire of glory.

Expl. — Ambition is the desire which supports and strengthens all the passions (by Props. 27 and 31), and therefore it is difficult to master this affection :

PART III.— OF THE AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS. 207

for SO long as a man is under the influence of any de- sire, he is also at the same time necessarily under the influence of ambition. “The noblest and most vir- tuous of men,” says Cicero,'^ “are the most allured by glory. Even philosophers who have written books on the contempt of glory, have aflixed their names to them,” etc.

45. Luxury {luxuria) is the immoderate desire or even love of feasting.

46. Drunkenness {ebrietas) is tlie immoderate de- sire and love of drinking.

47. Avarice {acaritia) is the immoderate desire and love of riches.

48. Lust {libido) is the immoderate desire and love of sexual intercourse.

Expl. — Whether tliis desire for sexual intercourse be moderate or immoderate it is usual to call it lust.

The live preceding passions have no opposites (as I have alread}^ stated in the Schol. to Prop. 56). For politeness or civility {modest id) is a species of ambi- tion (r/cZc. Schol. to Pro}:). 29), and temperance, so- briety, and chastity, as I have already observed, indi- cate i^owers of the soul, not passions. And although it may happen that an avaricious, ambitious, or timid man may abstain from all excess in eating, drinking, and sexual intercourse, still avarice, ambition, and fear, are not the opposites of luxuriousness, drunk- enness, and incontinence. t For the miser most gen- ♦aully desires to gorge himself with food and drink ])i‘ovided he can do it at the expense of others. Tin*

Vide Cic. pro Arcliia, cap 11. — Gonf. Tuscul. disput. L. I. cap. 15.

f The original Amsterdam and the Leipsic editions both read, “ av- aritia tamen, ambitio et timor luxuria?, ebrietati vel castitali non sunt contrarii.” I have ventured to correct this by reading incaatiiaii in- stead of — or, incontinence instead of continence — Tr.

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ambitious man, too, if lie tliinks tliere are no wit- nesses, will not restrain himself ; and if he lives among* the intemperate and libidinous, he will, be- cause he is ambitious, be more inclined to the vices of his associates. The timid man, further, often does what he would rather not do. The miser, although he should cast his treasures into the sea to escape drowning, would remain none the less avaricious ; and if the libidinous is grieved because he cannot in- dulge his lusts, he remains none the less libidinous. These passions, indeed, do not so much regard the acts of feasting, drinking, etc., as they do the appe- tites and likings themselves that lead to indulgence. There is, therefore, nothing opposed to these passions except generosity and courage, as we shall show here- after.

I omit to give definitions of Jealousy {zelotypice) and other fiuctuations of the, soul, either because they arise from or are compounded of ji^ssions al- ready defined, or because they are for the most part not distinguished by particular names, which shows that it suffices for the conduct of life to know them in a general way.

As to the rest, from our definitions of the pas- sions and from the explanations we have given, it is clear that they all arise from desire^ joy^ or sorroic, or rather that they are but these three pas- sions severally designated by different names accord- ing to their various relations and extrinsic denomina- tions. If we will now keep our attention fixed upon these three primitive passions and what has been said above respecting the nature of the soul, then, in so far as the affections or passions are referred to the soul alone, they may be defined in the ^following manner :

PAllT III. — OF THE AFFECTIO'S'S OR PASSIOXS. 209

GENERAL DEFINITION OF THE PASSIONS.

The affection which is characterized as a passion of the sonl is a confused idea whereby the soul affirms that the body, or some of its parts, has a greater or less power of existing than it liad before, which i:)Ower being affirmed the sonl itself is determined to think of this or of that thing rather than of some other thing.

Explanation. — I say, ffrst, that an affection or passion of the soul is a confused idea” ; for we have shown {pide Prop. 3) that the soul suffers only in so far as it has inadequate or confused ideas. I say,, secondly, — ^’whereby the soul affirms that the body,, or some of its parts, lias a greater or less jiower of existing than it had before.” For all the ideas we* have of bodies indicate rather the actual constitution of our own body than the nature of any external body (by Coroll. 2, Prop. 16, Part II.) ; and these ideas which constitute the essences or forms of the affec- tions or passions must indicate or express the consti- tution of the body or of some of its parts, whereby its power of acting or existing is augmented or di- minished, favored or restrained. But it is to be noted that when I say — ‘‘a greater or less power of existing than it had before,” I do not mean that the soul com Xiares the present with the preceding constitution of its body ; but that the idea which constitutes the essence or form of the affection or passion affirms of the body something which involves more or less of reality than before. And inasmuch as the essence of the soul consists (by Props. 11 and 13, Part II.) in that which affirms the actual existence of the body, and as by the perfection of a thing we understand its- essence, — it therefore follows that the soul passes to>

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ii greater or less state of perfection Avlienever it affirms of its body or of some of its parts something wliicli involves a greater or less reality tlian that which it or they had before. When I said above, therefore, that the thinking power of the soul was augmented or di- minished, I only wished to be understood that the soul formed an idea of its ])ody or of some part or j^arts of it Avhich expressed more or less of reality than it had previously affirmed of its body or of some part or parts of the same. For excellence of idea and actual power of thought are estimated by the excellence of objects. Lastly, I added: — ‘Svliich jiower being af- lirmed the soul itself is determined to think of this or of that thing rather than of some other thing,'' — in order to ex^oress not merely the nature of joy and soiTOAV, which is explained in the first part of the defi- nition, but also the nature of desire.

EXD OF THE THIKD PAIIT.

ETHICS.

M

FOURTH PART.

OF MAN’S SLAVEHY, OK THE EOKCE OE THE PASSIONS.^

PREFACE,

Man's inij)otence to moderate and control Ills af- fections or passions I call Slavery. For wlien man is dominated by these lie is not master of liimself, bnt is, as it were, controlled by fate, so that, although seeing and knowing what course is best, yet is he often forced to follow that which is worst. I now propose, in this Fourth Part, to demonstrate the cause of this slavery, and to point out besides what there is of good and evil in the affections or passions. But before entering on the task it will be proper to say a few words on perfection and imperfection^ and on good and evil^ by way of preface.

He who proposes to construct a certain work, or to do anything, and completes it, may say, and not only himself but any one else who rightly understands or

* In the Definitions I., II., and III. and the explanation that fol- lows the latter, in Part III. (seepages 126-7), Spinoza has defined what he understands by Passions. — Tr.

sptnoza’s ethics.

'J12

thinks he understands the purpose of tlie work may ii.lso say, that it is jperfected. For example, if any one sees a certain structure (which I will suppose is not yet completed) and knows that tlie purpose of tlie constructor of it is to build a house, he will say that the house is unhnished or imi^erfect ; and on the contrary, so soon as he sees the work brought to the state of completeness proposed by its constructor he will say that it is finished or jyerfect. But if any one should see a work, the like of which he had never seen before, and had no knowledge of the j)urpose of its constructor, he could not tell whether the work was perfect or imperfect. And this appears to have been the first signification of these words. But after men began to form general ideas, and to contrive and invent plans for houses, temples, towers, etc., and to prefer one pattern or style to another, it came to pass that each one called that perfect which agreed with the general idea he had formed ; and on the contrary, he called imperfect that which he saw did not corre- spond with the pattern he had conceived or selected as the most perfect, although it was fully complete according to the plan of its constructor. IN'or does there appear to be any other reason why natural things, things not made by human hands, should commonly be called perfect or imperfect ; for men are accustomed to form general ideas of natural things as well as of things produced by human art, which ideas become to them like models whicli nature itself (na- ture in their opinion doing nothing without an end or purpose) they believe presents to them as patterns which they are to regard. When, therefore, they see in nature something which does no.t quite agree with the idea or pattern of the thing they had conceived, they believe that nature itself has failed or been in

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fault and left tlie thing imperfect. We tlius see that men are accustomed to call natural things perfect or imperfect from prejudice rather than from true know- ledge. But we have shown in the Appendix to our First Part that nature does not act for an end ; for the Eternal and Infinite Being which we call God or Mature, exists of necessity, and so acts of necessity. And we have shown, too, that by the same necessity that Mature exists, by the same necessity does it act {mde Prop. 16, Part I.). The reason or the cause, therefore, whereby God or Mature exists and acts is one and the same ; and as there is no cause Avhereby God exists for any certain purpose or end, so is there no cause whereby God acts for any purpose or end ; for as God is without beginning or end as regards ex- istence, so is God infinite and eternal as regards acts. Moav a final cause, as it is called, is nothing more than a human desire or appetite considered as the begin- ning or first cause of anything. For example, when we say that the final cause of houses is the desire of men for habitations, we understand nothing more than that man, having imagined that a house would be a convenience for domestic life, has had a desire to build himself a house. Wherefore a habitation, in so far as final causes are considered, is nothing but the effect of this particular desire or appetite, whicli is, in fact, the efficient cause considered as the primary cause, for men are commonly ignorant of the causes of their desires. They are, indeed, as I hav(» often said before, conscious of their appetites and ac- tions, but unconscious of the causes which determine them to desire this or that thing.

As to the vulgar belief that nature is sometimes at fault and comes short in its work, producing imper- fect things, I put that along with the numerous other

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prejudices uiion which I have commented in the Ap- pendix to tlie First Part. Perfection and imperfec- tion are in fact merely modes of thought, i.e., notions Avliich we are accustomed to form by comparing indi- vidual things of the same genus or species witii one another ; and it is for this reason that I have said { Def . 6, Part II.) that by reality ^ml])erfection I under- stand one and the same thing. AVe are Avont, in- deed, to refer all the individual things in nature to one genus, which we speak of as universal or most general, to Avit : to the notion of heing or entity AAdiich belongs .absolutely to all the indiAuduals in nature. In so far therefore as Ave refer the individual things constituting nature at large to this one genus, and as Ave com]3are them aa ith one another and find that one has more of being or reality than another, Ave say of that one that it has more of perfection than another ; and in so far as AA-e ascribe to a certain individual Thing something AAdiich involves negation — such as limitation, termination, impotence, etc., — in so far do we call it imperfect, for the reason that it does not affect our minds in the same manner as those AA^e call perfect, and not because it lacks or is deficient in any- thing that properly belongs to it, or that nature has failed in its Avork. For nothing belongs to the nature of anything saAm that Avhich folloAvs from the neces- sity inherent in the nature of its efficient cause ; and whatsoever follows from the nature of an efficient cause folloAA^s necessarily.

The terms good and e?r/Z, as applied to things con- sidered in themselves, do not indicate anything posi- tive in their nature ; they are nothing more than modes of thought or notions AAdiich Ave form from comparisons of things AAdth one another. For one and the same thing may be at the same time both good

PAKT IV.— SLxVVEKY— FOKCE OF THE PASSIOI^S. 215

and evil, or it may be indifferent. Lively music, for example, may be good to a melancholy person, bad to one Avlio mourns, and neither good nor bad to one who is deaf. But although this be the case, we must nevertheless retain these words in our vocabulary ; for desiring to form to ourselves the idea of a man as an exemplar of human nature, as we may see or ap- ])rehend it, Ave sliall find it useful to employ these words in the sense attached to them. By cfoocl^ there- fore, in AAdiat follows I shall understand that Avhich we know for certain is a means of approaching more and more closely to the exemplar which we wish to hold up ; and by eml^ that which Ave knoAA- for certain to be a hindrance to the attainment of our exemplar. Furthermore, Av^e shall speak of men as more or less perfect and imperfect in the degree that they approach more or less near to our exemplar. For it is to be })articularly observed, that AAdien I say of any one that he passes from a less to a higher degree of j)er- fection, and mce mrsd^ I do not understand that he changes from one being or form into another (a horse, for instance, Avhether changed into a man or an insect, Avould in either case cease to be a horse), but rather that Ave conceive his poAver of action, in so far as aa^c apprehend this from his proper nature, to be increased or diminished. Lastly, I shall, as I liaA^e said, un- derstand by perfection, reality in general, — in other Avords, the essence of each particular thing in so far as it exists and acts in certain AAmys, and AAuthout reference to its duration. For no particular thing (^an be said to be more perfect by reason of its con- tinuing a longer time in existence than another, inas- much as the duration of things cannot be determined from their essence, — the essence of things involving no certain and definite time of existence ; but each

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particular tiling, be it more or less perfect, will al- ways persevere in its existence with the same power as that with Avhich it began to exist, so that in this respect all things are equal.

DEFINITIONS.

I. By good I understand that which we know for certain to be useful to us.

II. eml I understand that Avhicli we know foi- certain to be a hindrance to our enjojdng something good.

In relation to these two definitions see the latter part of the preceding preface.

III. Individual things I call contingent \\\ so far as, their essence only being considered, nothing appears that necessarily asserts their existence or that neces- sarily excludes it.

IV. Those individual things, again, I call gjossibte in so far as, while considering the causes by which they must be produced, we do not know that these causes are themselves so determined as to produce them.

In Schol. 1 to Prop. 33, Part I., I have made no dis- tinction between the contingent and the %f0ssible^ be- cause it was not then and there necessary to distin- guish them accurately from each other.

Y. By contrary or opjposite affections^ in what fol- lows I understand those affections or passions which, although they are of the same genus, constrain men to act in opposite ways ; for instance— luxury and avarice, which are sx)ecies of love, are not contraries by nature but by accident.

VI. What I understand by an affection or i^a.ssion .as regards things jiast, present, or future, I have

PART IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE OF THE PASSIONS. 217

already exiilained in Scholia 1 and 2 to Prop. 18, Part III., which see.

But here I have further to remark that as regards distance of place, as well as of time, we are only able to imagine distance distinctly within certain limits, — that is to say, as objects which are distant more than two hundred feet from us or from the place we occupy are at a distance beyond that which we can distinctly imagine, they are all wont to be imagined by us to be about equally remote, and as if they were in the same plane ; so also are objects the interval between whose time of existence and the present time is longer than we are accustomed to imagine or can imagine dis- tinctly, imagined to be all about equally remote from the present, and are referred as it Avere to a single moment of time.

YII. By the end or jpurpose on account of Avhich we do anything I understand appetite or desire.

YIII. By mrtue and poieer I understand one and the same thing ; that is to say (by Prop. 7, Part III.), virtue, as referred to man, is the A^ery essence or nature of man, in so far as he possesses the poAver of doing certain things which can be understood by the laAvs of his OA\m nature alone.

AXIOM.

There is not in nature any individual thing that is not surpassed by others more poAverful and stronger than itself. So that, given AvhateA^er poAverful thing, there is also given others by AAdiich it can be de- stroyed.

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PROPOSITIOXS.

PROP. I. — Xotliiiig positive, so far as true, con- tained in a false idea, is destroyed Py the presence of triitli.

Demonstk. — Falsity consists solely in the privation of true knowledge which inadequate ideas involve (by Prop. 35, Part II.), nor do such ideas contain anything positive by reason of Avhich they are called false (by Prop. 33, Part II.) ; but on the contraiy, in so far as they are referred to God they are true (by Prop. 32, Part II.). If, therefore, what a false idea has in it of positive were, in so far as true, destroyed by the presence of truth, a true idea would be de- stroyed by itself, which (by Prop. 4, Part III.) is ab- surd. Therefore, nothing positive contained in a false idea, etc. q. e. d.

SciiOL. — This proposition is more clearly under- stood by Coroll. 2 to Prop. 16, Part II. For imagina- tion is an idea which rather indicates the present con- stitution of the human body than the nature of an external body, — not, indeed, distinctly, but con- fusedly ; — whence it comes that the mind or soul is said to err. For example, when we look at the sun we imagine it to be about t^xo hundred paces distant from us, in which we deceive ourselves so long as we are ignorant of its true distance ; this being known the error is destroyed, but not the imagination, that is, not the idea of the sun, which explains its nature only in so far as our body is affected by the sun ; so that although we know the true distance of the sun we nevertheless continue to imagine it as near to us. For as we have said in the Schol. to Prop. 35, Part II., we do not imagine the sun’s proximity to us be-

PART IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE OF THE PASSIOXS. 219

cause we are ignorant of its true distance, bnt because the mind conceives the magnitude of the sun in ac- cordance with the manner in which the body is affected by it. Thus, when the rays of the sun fall upon the surface of the water and are reflected from it to our eyes, we imagine the sun as if it were really in or on the water, although Ave knoAv perfectly well that its true place is really in the heavens. And so of the other imaginations by Avhicli the soul is deceived, Avhicli, whether they indicate the natural constitution of the body, or the increase or diminution of its power of action, are not contrary to the truth and do not vanisii in its presence. It happens, indeed, that AAdien we erroneously fear some evil, the fear vanishes as soon as the truth is ascertained ; but, on the contraiy, it also happens Avhen Ave fear an evil that aauII surely befall us, that the fear of it may Amnish AAdien Ave hear false neAvs. Imaginations therefore do not Amnish in the presence of truth as truth, but because other things occur AAdiich are stronger than they, and Avhich exclude the present existence of the things imagined, as AA-e have shoAvn in Prop. 17, Part II.

PROP. II. — We suffer in so far as ^ye are a part of nature, AA liich part cannot be conceived by itself independently of other parts.

Deaioxstr. — We are said to suffer AAdien anything arises in us of Avhich AA^e ourselves are only jiartially the cause (by Del 2, Part III.), that is (by Def. 1, Part III.), anything AAdiich cannot be deduced from the hiAvs of our nature alone. We suffer, therefore, in so far as Ave are a iiart of nature, Avhich part cannot be conceived by itself indejiendently of other parts.

Q. E. D.

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SPINOZA'S I^TIirCS.

PllOP. III. — The force by wliich man perse- veres in liis existence is limited, and tli(‘ power of external causes intinitel}^ sur- passes it.

Demonstp.— This appears by tlie preceding Axiom. For, given a man, tliere is something else given, say A, more powerful than he ; and A being given, there is something else given, say B, more powerful tlian A ; and so on to inhnity ; — thus consequently is the power of man limited by some other thing, and infi- nitely surpassed by the power of exteiliaF causes. Q. E. 1).

PKOP. IV. — It is impossible that man should not be a part of nature, and that he can suffer no changes except those which may be understood by his nature alone and of which his nature is tlie adequate cause.

Demonstk. — The power by which individual things, and consequently men, preserve their being, is the very power of God or Vature (by Coroll, to Prop. 24, Part I.), not as it is infinite, but in so far as it can be explained by the actual essence of man (by Prop. 7, Part III.). The power of man, therefore, in so far as it is exxfiained by his own actual essence, is part ol' the infinite power of God or Vature, — that is to say (by Prop. 84, Part I.), of the essence of God. This in the first place. In the second place, if it were possi- ble that a man could suffer no changes except those whicli may be understood by his nature alone, it would follow (by Props. 4 and 6, Part III.) that he could not perish, but must necessarily exist for ever ; and this would follow from a cause the power of

PAKT IV. — SLAVERY- -FOPCE OF THE PASSIONS. 221

whicli was eitlier finite or infinite, viz. : either from the sole x)ovver of man, which would therefore be capable of XDreventing other changes that might arise from external causes, — or else from the infinite power of N^ature by which all things were so ordered that man could suffer no other changes save those which tended to his preservation. But the first of these suppositions is absurd (by x)i’^ceding Prop, the de- monstration of which is universal and apx)licable to all individual things). Therefore if it were possible that man should suffer no other changes than those which can be understood by his x)roi3er nature alone, and consequently (as we have shown) that he should necessarily exist for ever, this must follow from the infinite jiower of God, and therefore (by Proj). 16, Part I.) would have to be deduced from the necessity of the Divine nature in so far considered as affected by the idea of a jiarticidar man, and the order of all Nature in so far as it is conceived under the attri- })utes of Thought and Extension. And so it would follow (by Prop. 21, Part I.) that man is infinite, which (by the first part of this Demonstration) is absurd. It is therefore impossible that man should suffer no other changes save those of Avhich he is him- self the adequate cause, q. e. d.

Coroll. — Hence it follows that man is necessarily always subject to xiassions, that he must follow the (‘onimon order of Nature, obey it, and even accommo- date himself to it, to the extent required by the nature of things.

I^ROP. Y. — The force and increment of eaeli Xiassion and its x^erseverance in existence are not to be exxdained or defined by the

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power Avliereby avc striAC to continue in our state of being, but by the j)oaa er of an external cause as com])ared aa itli our oaa ii poAAcr.

Deaioxstk. — The essence of a passion cannot be ex- plained by our OAA^n essence alone (by Defs. 1 and 2, Part III.) ; that is to say (by Prop. 7, Part III.), the ])ower of a passion cannot be defined or explained by the poAA^er of the effort AA^e make to persevere in being, but (as shoAAUi in Prop. 16, Part II.) it must necessa- rily be defined by the poAver of an external cause as compared Avith our OAvn poAver. q. e. d.

PROP. VI. — The force of a passion or atfection may so far surpass that of the other poAA ers or actions of a man that the atfection shall adhere pertinaciously to him.

Deaioxstr. — The force and groAvth of eA^ery passion and its perseverance in existence are defined by the poAver of external causes as compared Avith our oavii poAver (by preceding Prop.), and therefore (by Prop. 8) may surpass the poAA^er of man. q. e. d.

PROP. VII. — An afitection or passion can neither be restrained nor destroyed except by a contrary and stronger atfection coerc- ing it.

Deaioxste. — An affection or passion in so far as it is referred to the soul, is an idea by AAdiich the soul affirms a greater or less poAver of existence of its oaaui body than it had before (by the general definition of the Passions at the end of the Third Part). When

PART IV. — SLAVERA^ — FORCE OF THE PASSIONS. 228

the soul therefore is agitated by any affection, the body is simultaneously affected by an affection which augments or diminishes its power of action. More- over, this corporeal alfection (by Prop. 5) received from its cause its power to persevere in its being, and this power therefore can neither be restrained nor destroyed except by a corporeal cause (b}^ Prop. 4, Part III.) affecting the body with a contrary (by Prop, o. Part III.) and stronger affection (by Axiom, this Part). In this way (by Prop. 12, Part II.) the soul is af- fected by an idea of a stronger affection contrary to the prior one, — that is to say (by gen. def. Pass.), the soul is affected by an affection opposed to and more power- ful than the prior one, and which therefore secludes or destroys its existence ; and hence a passion or affection can neither be restrained nor destroyed ex- cept by a contrary and stronger affection, q. e. d.

Coroll. — An affection, in so far as it is referred to the soul, can neither be restrained nor destroyed except by the idea of a contrary and stronger affec- tion of the body than the one then suffered. For an affection which we suffer can neither be suppressed nor destroyed except by a contrary and stronger affection (by preceding Prop.), that is (by the general definition of the Passions), except by the idea of an affection of the body contrary to and stronger than the affection previously suffered.

PROP. Till. — The knowledge of good and evil is nothing niore than an affection of joy or of sorrow, in so far as we ourselves are conscious of the same.

Dewoxstr. — We call that good or evil which favors or liinders the conservation of our being (by Defs. 1

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jind 2) ; that is (by Prop. 7, Part III.), wliicli augments or diminislies, assists or opposes our power of action. In so far therefore (by Def. of Joy and Sorrow, which see in the Scliol. to Prop. 11, Part III.) as we perceive that anytliing affects us with joy or sorrow, we call it good or evil ; consequently the knowledge of good and evil is nothing other than the idea of joy or sorrow which necessarily follows from the affection itself of joy or sorrow (by Prop. 22, Part II.). But tliis idea is united with the affection in the same way as the soul is united with the body (by Prop. 21, Part II.) ; tliat is to say (as shown in the Schol. to same Prop.), this idea of the affection is not really distinguished from the affection itself, or (by gen. def. of the Pas- sions) from the idea of the affection of the body, save in the conception alone. Therefore this knowledge of good and evil is nothing other than the affection of joy or of sorrow itself, in so far as we are conscious of it. Q. E. D.

PROP. IX. — The affection or passion the cause of Avhicli we imagine as present to iis is stronger than one of which the cause is not imagined as present.

Demonste. — Imagination is an idea by which the soul contemi^lates a thing as present {mde the Defini- tion of Imagination in Schol. to Prop. 17, Part II.), but which idea, however, rather indicates the constitution of the human body than the nature of the external thing (by Coroll. 2 to Prop. 16, Part II.). Imagination, therefore (by gen. def. of the Passions), is an affec- tion in so far as it indicates the condition or constitu- tion of the body. But the imagination (by Prop. 17, Part II.) is most vivid so long as we imagine nothing

PAKT IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE OF THE PASSIONS. 905

that excludes tlie present existence of an external thing. Wherefore also the affection or passion Avhose cause we imagine to be present to us is stronger or more intense than it would be if its cause was imagined not to be present, q. e. d.

SciioL. — When I said in Prop. 18, Part III., that the image of a thing past or to come affected us in the same degree as the image of a thing present affected us, I expresslj^ stated that this was true in so far as we gave attention to the image only of th(‘ thing itself (for that image is of the same natur(‘ whether we have imagined the thing or not). But I have not denied that the imagination is rendered weaker Avlien we contemplate other things as present to us which exclude the ])resent existence of a futun' thing, — a point I then neglected to notice, as it related to the force of the affections or ])assions which I de- signed to treat of in this Part.

Cop.oLL. — The image of a thing futui-e or ])ast, that is to sajg of a thing which we contemplate with rela- tion to a future or past time to the exclusion of the time ])resent, is, other things being equal, weaker than the image of a thing present ; and consequently an affection in respect of a thing past or to come, is^ other things being equal, feebler than the affection connected with a thing jtresent.

PROP. X. — We are more intensely alfeeted in respect of a future thing or event which we imagine to be close at hand, than in respect of a thing or event the time of whose oe- eiirrcnee Ave imagine Avill be far distant from the present time ; and Ave are also more strongly affected by the recollection

15

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of a thing wliicli avo iuiagiiic as liaviiig oc- curred but recently, than avc are hy tlie nieinory of a thing Avhich aa e iniaginc as haying happened yory long ago.

Deaionstr. — For in imagining anything that Avill hapjien soon, or that liappened not long ago, Ave imagine (as is self-evident) that Avhich less excludes the presence of the thing so imagined than if the time of its occurrence was imagined as far distant in the future or as long ago in the past ; and so (by pre- ceding Prop.) are Ave more intensely affected in re- sjiect of things AAdiich have recently happened or Avhich Avill soon happen, q. e. n.

ScitOL. — From Avhat AA^e remarked after Def. 6 of this Part, it folloAvs that Ave are also less poAverfully affected in respect of objects distant from the present time by a longer interval than Ave can determine by our imagination, although Ave may comprehend that those objects are themselves separated from one an- other by very long intervals of time.

PKOP. XI.— The affection in respect of a thing that Ave imagine as necessary, is, other things being equal, more intense than in respect of that Avhicli is possible or contin- gent, in other Avords, not necessary.

Deaionstp. — In so far as Ave imagine anything to be necessary, in so far do Ave affirm its existence ; and on the contrary, in so far as Ave imagine a thing as not necessary Ave deny its existence (by Schol. 1 .to Prop. 33, Part I.) ; and hence (by Pro]^. 9) an affection in respect of a thing that is necessary, is, other things

PART IV.— SLAVERY — FORCE OF THE PASSIOXS. 227

being equal, more intense than it is in respect of a thing- not necessary, q. e. o.

PKOP. Xri. — An affection in respect of a thing Avhieli Ave knoAV does not exist at present and A\hich Ave imagine as i)ossible, is, other things being equal, more intense than an attection in respect of a contin- gent thing.

Demoxstr. — In so far as Ave imagine a thing as con- tingent, Ave are affected by the image of no other thing that affirms its existence (by Def. ‘S), but on the contrary (according to the liypotliesis), AA'e imagimi things that exclude its present existence. But in as far as AA^e imagine a thing to be possible in the fat are, in so far do Ave imagine things that assert its existence (by Dei. 4) ; that is to say (by Prop. 18, Part III.), things that lead ns to hope or fear ; so that an affec- tion in respect of a possible thing is more intense, etc. Q. E. D.

Coroll. — An affection in respect of a thing AAiiich AA'e knoAA' does not exist at present and AAiiich ^ye imagine to be contingent, is much more feeble than it is of a thing Avhich \ve imagine as being present to ns.

Deaioxstr. — An affection in respect of a thing AAiiich AA'e imagine to exist at present, is more intense than if AA^e imagine it as in tlie near future (by Coroll, to Prop. 9), and much more Amhement than if aam imagine it as in the future far distant from the present time (by Prop. 10). Consequent!}^ an affec- tion in respect of a thing Avhose time of existence we imagine to be very remote from the present, is much more feeble than if the same thing be imagined as

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present ; and yet (by preceding- Prop.) it is more in- tense than if the thing be imagined as contingent. Therefore is the affection in respect of a contingent thing much more feeble than it is of a thing imagined as existing and present to ns. Q. e. d.

l^ROP. XIII. — An affection in respect of a con- tingent thing which we knoAY does not ex- ist at present, is, other things being equal, more feeble than an affection in respect of a thing past.

Demoxstr. — In so far as we imagine a thing as ('ontingent we are affected by the image of no other thing which affirms its existence (by Def. 3). On the contrary (according to the hypothesis), we imagine some things which exclude the present existence of the contingent thing in question. But in so far as we imagine a thing in relation to a time past, so far are we supposed to imagine something which recalls that thing to our memory, or which excites in us an image of it {vide Prop. 18, Part II., with its Schol.), and so brings ns to contemplate it as if it were present (by 'Ooroll. to Prop. 17, Part II.). Therefore (b}^ Prop. 9) will an affection in respect of a contingent thing v/hich we know does not exist at present, other things being equal, be more feeble than in respect of a thing which has existed in the past. q. e. d.

PROP. XIV. — True knowledge of good and evil, considered in so far as it is true, can re- strain no affection ; but only in so far as it is considered as an affection.

Demonstr. — An affection is an idea by which the

PART IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE OF THE PASS 10 XS. 22d

soul, affirms (by gen. clef, of tlie Passions) a greatei- or less power of existence in its body than it pos- sessed before ; and therefore (by Prop. 1) has nothing ])ositive in it that can destroy the presence of tin' true; and consequently true knowledge of good nnd evil, in so far as true, can restrain or coerce no affec- tion. But in so far as this knowledge is itself an affection (vide Prop. 8), if it be stronger than the affec- tion to be controlled, in so far (by Prop. 7) will it be able to restrain or coerce that affection, q. e. d.

PROP. Xy. — The desire wliicdi arises from true knowledge of good and evil may be re- strained or suppressed by many other de- sires Avhieh arise from the passions or affections by whicli we are agitated.

De.voxstr. — From true knowledge of good and evil, in so far as it is an affection (by Prop. 8), desire necessarily arises (by Del 1 of the Passions), and is great in proportion as the affe(dion out of Avhich it arises is great (by Prop. 37, Part III.). But as this desire (by liypothesis) arises from our apprehending something as true, it therefore follows that it has its source within ourselves in so far as we act (b}^ Prop. 3, Part III.) ; and therefore it must be understood through our own essence alone (by Def. 2, Part III.) ; and consequently (by Proj). 7, Part III.) its force and growth must be defined by human i^ower alone. More(3ver, the desires Avhich arise from the passions or affections by which' we are agitated are by so much the greater as these affections are more veliement ; and consequently their force and growth (by Prop. 5) must be defined by the power of external causes, which if compared with our own power indefinitely

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surpasses it (by Prop. 8) ; and thus the desire vrliicli may ai'ise from such affections or passions may be more veliement than that which arises fi'oni true Ivuowledge of good and evil, and may tberefore (by Prop. 7) be capable of restraining or suppressing

it. Q. E. D.

PlvOP. XVI. — Tlie desire wliieh arises from knowledge of good and evil, in so far as this knowledge lias regard to the future, may be more easily restrained or sup- pressed hy the desire of things present that are agreeable to ns.

De-^ioxstu. — An affection in respect of a tiling which we imagine as future is feebler than in respect of a thing present (by Cor oil. to Prop. 9). But the desire which arises from true knowledge of good and evil, although this knowledge concerns things pre- sent that are agreeable lo us, may be turned aside, restrained, or suppressed by some casual desire (by preceding Prop., the demonstration of which is general). Therefore the desire that arises from this knowledge, in so far as it has regard to the fu- ture, may be more easily restrained or suppressed, etc. Q. E. n.

PPOP. XVII. — The desire which arises from true knowledge of good and evil, in so far as it coneerns contingent things, may be turned aside and much more easily re- strained by the desire of things present.

Demoxste. — This proposition is demonstrated in

PAPwT IV. — SLAVEEY — FORCE OF THE PASSIONS. 231

the same way as the preceding proposition by tin' Corollary to Prop. 12.

SciioL. — In Avhut precedes I believe I have shown wliy men are more influenced by opinion than by sound I'eason ; and why true knowledge ot* good and evil excites emotions in the sonl and often gives Avay to all kinds of sensualities ; hence a great poet says :

“ Vileo meliora, proboqus,- deteriora sequor.”

And the same idea seems to have been also in the mind ot* Ecclesiastes when he said: "‘He that in- creaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow." f

But I do not mean to say by this, or to have it in- ferred, that it is better to be ignorant than to have knowledge, or that in the power of moderating their passions there is no difference between a fool and a wise man. I only speak of it because it is necessary that we should know the strength as well as the weakness of our nature, in order to determine what reason can do and Avhat it cannot do in moderating onr passions. But in this Fourth .Part my purpose is, as I have said, to speak only of man’s impotence, for it is my design to treat separately of the power of reason over the passions.

PIIOP. XYIII. — The desire that arises from joy is stronger, other things being equal, than tliat which arises from sorrow.

Demoxstr. — Desire is the veiy essence of man (by 1 Def. of Passions) ; in other words (by Prop. 7, Part III.), of the effort man makes to continue in his state

* Ovid., Metam. VII. 2. — “We see and approve the right, but yet the wrong pursue.” f Ecclesiastes, chap. I., v, 18.

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81’IXOZA’s ethics.

of being. AVherefore the desire that arises from joy is assisted and increased by the joyful emotion itself (by Def. of Joy, which see in Schol. to Prop. 11, Part ITT.) ; but on tlie contrary, the desire that arises from sorrow is diminished or restrained by the sorrowful (unotion itself (by same Schol.). Consequently tlu‘ force of the desire that arises from joy must be de- fined by human power and at the same time by tlni ])ower of external causes ; Avhilst the force of the de- sire that arises from sorrow must be defined ])y human power alone ; hence it follows that the desire that arises from joy is stronger than that which arises from sorrow, q. e. d.

Schol. — In the above brief expositions I explain the causes of human impotencyand inconstancy, and Avhy men do not observe the precepts of reason. It noAv remains for me to show Avhat reason j)rescribes to ns, and to indicate Avhat passions or affections accord Avith the laAvs of human reason, and Avhich of them, on the contrary, are opposed to these laAvs. Put before entering more full^" niion the demonstra- tion of this by our geometrical method, I aauII first briefly shoAv AAdiat I regard as the dictates of reasoii. so that all my readers may the more easip" perceive and understand my vieAA s. As reason demands noth- ing contrary to nature, it therefore requires that every one should love himself, that he should se^k after that Avhich is truly useful to him, and strive to attain to all that really leads man to higher perfection, and aboAm all that every one should, absolutely, so far as in him lies, endeavor to preserve his state of being ; all of AAdiich is as necessarily true as that a Avhole is greater than a piart fide Prop. 4, Part III.). Further, since indeed man’s Aurtue (by Def. 8) is nothing but action in accordance AAuth the laAvs of his

PAllT lY. — SLAVERY — FORCE OF THE PASSIONS. 238

]n*oper nature, and no one (Prop. 7, Part III.) strives to ])i*eserve liis being save in conformity with the laws of his nature, it follows, .• that the foundation of virtue is the effort itself Avhich man makes to \)ve- serve his being, and tliat his happiness consists in his being able to preserv^e it. It follows, second : that virtue is to be desired for its own sake, and not for any other reason, and that there is nothing more excellent or more useful to us. It follows, thirds and lastly : that they avIio commit suicide are impo- tent of soul and utterly vanquished by external causes repugnant to their own nature.

Moreover, it follows from Postulate 4, Part II., that Ave can never bring it to pass that Ave shall re- quire nothing out of ourselves for the preservation of our being, and that AAn can so live as to have no intercourse Avith things beyond ourselves. And fur- ther, if AAn regard our soul, aaaa aauU see that our understanding Avould be less perfect if the soul AA^ere isolated and apprehended nothing but itself. There are, therefore, many things out of or beyond our- selves that are useful to us, and on that account desirable. Among these none can be conceived of greater excellence than those Avhich entirely agree Avitli our lAi'oper nature. For example, if tAvo indi- viduals of precisely the same nature Avere joined together, they Avould compose one individual of double the poAver of either separately. Nothing, therefore, is more useful to man than his fellow-men ; nothing, I say, is more to be desired by men, or more valuable as means for the imeservation of their being, than that all should in all things so agree that the souls and bodies of all should constitute, as it Avere, one soul and one body ; and that together all should endeavor, as far as possible, to preserve their being ;

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and that togetlier all sliould earnestly seek after whatsoever is for the common good. From this it follows that men who are governed by reason, that is to say, men avIio under the guidance of reason strive after Avhat is truly useful, desire nothing for them- selves which they do not desire for all men, and con- sequently are just, faithful, and honorable towards their neighbors.

Such are the dictates of reason Avhich I jn’oposed to speak of briefly before entering more fully upon their demonstration in regular order, so that I might, if possible, gain the attention of those avIio think that the doctrine I announce — namely, that every one is bound to seek that Avhich is useful to himself — is tlie foundation of immorality and not of virtue and piety. Since therefore I have briefly shoAvn to the contrary, I shall noAv proceed to demonstrate my doctrine in the same Avay as Ave have advanced thus far.

PEOP. XIX. — EA'cry one by the Iuaas of Ids nature necessarily desires that which he deems good and shuns that which he judges to be evil.

Deaioxstr. — The knoAAdedge of good and evil is itself (by Prop. 8) an affection of joy or soitoav in so far as aa'c are conscious of it ; and consequently (by Prop. 28, Part III.) every one necessarily desires that AAdnch he judges to be good, and on the contrary avoids that AA’hich he judges to be eAul. But this desire or appetite is nothing else than the veiy essence or nature of man (by Def. of Appetite, AAdiich see in Scliol. to Prop. 9, Part III., and Def. 1 of Pas- sions). Therefore every one by the laAvs of his nature alone necessarily desires good and shuns evil. q. e. d.

PART IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE OF THE PASSIOXS. 235

PEOP. XX. — The more any one seeks vliat is useful to liiin, fe., the more he endeavors and is able to conserve his being, tlie greater is the virtue Avith AAdiieli lie is endoAved ; and on the contrary, in so far as lie neglects that Avhieh is useful to him — i.e., neglects the conserA ation of his being — so far is he impotent.

Deaioxstr. — Virtue is human poAver itself, Avhieli is defined hy the essence of man alone (by I)ef. 8) ; that is to say (by Prop. 7, Part Ill. j, it is defined by the effort alone AAdiicli man makes to perseA^ere in his state of being. The more therefore each one endea- vors and the more he is able to conserve his being, the greater is the Aurtne or poAA’er Avith AAdiich he is endoAA^ed ; and consequently (by Props. 4 and 6, Part 111.), in so far as any one neglects the conseiva- tion of his being, so far is he impotent, q. e. d.

SciiOL. — Xo one, therefore, neglects to take such nonrishment as is nsefnl to him or to preseive his being, unless from causes external and contrary to his nature. Xo one, I say, is eA^er constrained by the necessit}" of his proper nature to aA^oid AATiolesome food or to put an end to his oaaui life, except by an external cause, AAdiicli may operate in Amrious Ava3LS. Thus a man may kill himself if the hand in aaTiIcIi he holds an unsheathed dagger is grasped b\' another and so turned around that the AA’eaxAon is forcibl}^ directed against himself and pierces his heart ; or AAdien by the mandate of a tyrant, as in the case of Seneca, he opens his A^eins that he may escape a greater by submitting to AAdiat he esteems a lesser eAul ; lastly, hidden external causes ma}^ so dispose a

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nuiirs imagination and affect liis body in sucli a way that anotlier nature contrary to his first is assumed, and of whicli no idea exists in tlie soul (by Prop. 10, Part III.). But that man, by the necessity of his proper nature, should seek not to exist or should de- sire to be changed into some other form of being, is as impossible as that something should be made out of nothiug, — as every one with a little reflection will perceive.

PROP. XXI. — Xo one can desire to be liappy, to act well, and to live a good life, who does not at the same time desire to be, to act, and to live, — that is, to exist in act.

Demoxsth. — The demonstration of this Proposi- tion, or rather the Proposition itself, is self-evident, as it is also from the definition of Desire. For the desire to live a good or happy life, to be doing, etc., is (by 1 Def. of Passions) itself the very essence of man, — that is (by Prop. 7, Part 111.), it is the effort by wliich every one endeavors to conserve his being. Therefore no one can desire, etc. Q. e. d.

PROP. XXII. — Xo virtne prior to this (namely, the effort for self-preservation) can lie conceived.

Demoxstr. — The effort for self-preservation is itself the very essence of a thing (by Prop. 7, Part III.). If therefore any virtue could be conceived prior to this effort, the essence of the thing would be con- ceived prior to the thing itself (by Def. 8), which (obviously) is absurd. Therefore no virtue prior to this, etc. Q. E. D.

PAKT IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE OF THE PASSIONS. 237

Coroll. — The self-preservative effort is the first and only foundation of all virtue. For no other ])rinciple can be conceived prior to this (by preceding- Prop.), and without it (by Prop. 21) no virtue is con- ceivable.

PKOP. XXIIl. — Man, in so far as lie is deter- mined to act by reason of his having in- adequate ideas, cannot be said to act from virtue absolutely ; but can only be said so to act in so far as he is determined by what he understands.

Demonstr. — In so far as man is determined to action by inadequate ideas, in so far does he suffer (by Prop. 1, Part III.) ; that is (by Defs. 1 and 2, Part III.), he does something Avhich cannot be apjire- hended by his essence alone ; in other words (by Pef. cS), something which does not follow from his proper ])Ower or virtue. But in so far as he is determined to any action by his understanding, in so far (by the same Prop. 1, Part III.) does he act, i.e., do some- thing that is apprehended by his proper essence or nature alone (by I)ef. 2, Part III.), or (by Def. 8) that follows adequately from his own power or virtue. (^ E. u.

l^ROP. XXIV. — To act absolutely from virtue is for us nothing else than, under the guidance of reason, to act, to live, and to preserve our being (these three signifying the same thing) on the fundamental principle of seeking what is useful to ourselves.

Demonstr. — To act absolutely from virtue is noth-

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ing else than to act according to the laws of our proper nature (by Def. 8). But we only act in tliis Avay in so far as we have understanding (by Prop. 3, Part III.). Therefore to act from virtue is for us nothing else tlian to act, to live, and to j)reserve our being under the guidance of reason, and this (by the Coroll, to Prop. 22) on the ground that we are seeking what is useful to ourselves, q. e. d.

PE OP. XXV. — Xo one endeavors to jireserve his being for any other cause than that it is useful to himself.

Demoxste. — The effort by which each particular thing endeavors to persevere in its being, is defined solely as the essence of that thing itself (by Prop. 7, Part III.) ; and from this essence alone, not from the essence of any other thing, does it necessarily follow that each x^articular thing endeavors to jireserve its being (by Prop. 6, Part III.). This proiiosition is also evident by the Coroll, to Proj). 22. For did man seek to xu'^serve his being on account of something other than himself, then would that thing be the Xirimary cause of his virtue (as is self-evident), which (by the Coroll, referred to above) is absurd. There- fore no one endeavors, etc. q. e. n.

PE OP. XXVI. — IVliatevcr effort ^ye make from reason is nothing else than understanding ; nor does the soul, in so far as it uses reason, judge anyihing to be useful to it save that which conduces to understanding.

Demoxste. — The effort of a thing to xireserve itself is nothing but the very essence of the thing (by Proxi.

PART IV.— SLAVERY — FORCE OF THE PASSIONS. 230

7, Part III.), wliicli, in so far as it exists as siicl), is conceived to liave tlie power of continuing in exis- tence (by Prop. 6, Part III.), and of doing whatever necessaril}^ follows from its given nature (see tlie Definition of A|)petite in tlie Scliol. to Prop. 9, Pa it III.). But the essence of onr reason is notliing but our soul in so far as it has clear and distinct under- standing (see tlie Def. of Understanding in Scliol. 2 to Prop, do. Part II.). Consequently (by Prop. 40, Part II.) whatever effort we make from reason is nothing other than to understand. Further, since this effort whereb}^ the soul, in so far as it reasons, strives to ])reserve its being, is nothing but nndei'standing (as stated above), therefore is the effort to understand the beginning and sole foundation of virtue (by Coroll, to Prop. 22) ; nor is it because of any end or purpose that we endeavor to understand a thing (by Prop. 25) ; on the contiary, the soul, in so far as it reasons, can conceive nothing as truly good or useful to it save that only which conduces to understanding (by Def. 1). Q. E. D.

PKOIC XXYII. — G know nothing for cer- tain as being good or evil save that which truly conduces to understanding, or which may hinder ns from understanding.

Demoxstr. — The soul, in so far as it reasons, de- sires nothing but to understand ; neither does it jndg(‘ anything to be useful to it save that wdiich conduces to understanding (by pre(.*eding Prop.). But the soul (by Props. 41 and 43, Part II., and the Scliol. to the latter, which see) has no certainty of things except in so far as it has adequate ideas, or (what by Scliol. 2 to Prop. 40, Part II., is the same thing) as it reasons.

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AVlierefore we know notliing for certain as being good save that which truly conduces to understanding; and on tlie contrary, nothing as evil save that whicli hinders us from understanding, q. e. d.

I^EOr. XXYIII. — The supreme good of the soul is tlie knowledge of God, and tlie highest virtue of tlie soul is to know God.

Demoa^str.— The higliest object of tlie soul's under- standing is God, that is (by I)ef. 6, Part I.), the Abso- lutely Infinite Being, without which (by Prop. 1.5, Part I.) nothing is or can be conceived to be. There- fore (by Proi3s. 26 and 27) that which is snprenieh^ useful or good to the soul is the true knowledge of God (by Def. 1). Again, in so far as the soul under- stands, in so far only does it act (by Props. 1 and 3, Part III.), and in so far only (by Prop. 23) can it be said absolutely to act virtuously. The absolute virtue or ])ower of the soul, therefore, is to understand. But the highest object of the soul’s understanding is God (as just demonstrated). Therefore the highest virtue of the soul is to understand or know God. q. e. d.

l^ROP. XXIX. — An individual thing whose nature is entirely different from our own can neither favor nor hinder our power of acting ; and nothing can be absolutely good or bad to ns, unless it liave something in common Avith ns.

Bemoxstr. — The power of each individual thing, and consequently of man (by Coroll, to Proji. 10, Part II.), to exist and act, is not determined save by some other individual thing (by Prop. 28, Part I.)

PAllT IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE OF THE PASSIOXS. 241

vilose nature (by Prop 6, Part IT.) must be unde]- stood by the same attribute Avliereby human nature is conceived. Our power of acting, therefore, in what- ever way conceived, can be determined, and conse- quently favored or hindered, by the power of some other individual thing which has sometliing in com- mon Avith us, but not by tlie poAver of a thing AAdiose nature is entirely different from our oaaui ; and as av(‘- call that good or bad AA'hich is the cause of joy or sor- roAv to us (by Prop. 8), that is to say (by Schol. to Prop. 11, Part III.), AAdiich increases or diminishes, favors or hinders our power of action, therefore can the thing Avliose nature is entirely different from our OAvn be neither good nor bad to us- q. e. d.

PKOP. XXX. — Xotliiiig can be evil to us by that AAliicli it has in coniinon Avith our nature ; hut in so far as it is eA il to ns, in so far is it contrary to our nature.

Deaiois'Str. — We call that evil AAdiich is a cause of pain or sorrow to us (by Prop. 8), in other Avords (by the Del in Schol. to Prop. 11, Part III, AAdiich see) , that Avliich diminishes or restrains our poAver of action. If therefore anything AA'ere evil to us by reason of that which it had in common AAdth us, it might thereby diminish or restrain that AAdiich it had in common AAdth us, AAdiich (by Prop. 4, Part III.) is absurd. Xotliing therefore can be evil to us by that Avhicli it has in common Avith our nature ; but on the contrary, in so far as it is eAul, that is (as AA^ehave just shoAAm), in so far as it diminishes or restrains our poAver of action, in so far is it (by Prop, o, Part III.) contrary to our nature. Q. e. d.

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PROP. XXXT. — In so far as aiivtliiii^ ai>'recs witli our nature, in so far is it necessarily good to us.

Dkmoxstu. — For in so far as a tiling agrees with our nature, it cannot (by preceding Prop.) be evil. It will therefore necessarily be either good or indiffer- ent. If we snj)pose it to be indifferent, that is — neither good nor evil — then nothing (by our Axiom) can follow from its nature which could serve for the conservation of our nature ; that is (by hypothesis), which could serve for the preservation of its own na- ture. But this is absurd (by Prop. 6, Part III.). It will, therefore, in so far as it agrees with onr nature, necessarily be good. q. e. d.

Cor.oLL. — Hence it follows that the more anything agrees with our nature the more is it useful or good to us ; and reciprocally, the more anything is useful to us the more does it thereby agree with our nature. For in so far as it does not agree with our nature it will necessarily be different from or opposed to it. If different, then (by Prop. 29) it could be neither good nor evil ; — if opposed, it would then also be op- posed to that which agrees with our nature, that is (by preceding Prop.), contrary to good or evil. Xoth- ing therefore can be good to ns save in so far as it agrees with our iiatnre ; consequently the more any- thing agrees with our nature the moi'e useful is it to us ; and on the contrary, etc. q. e. d.

PROP. XXXII. — 111 so far as men arc subject to passion, in so far they cannot be said to agree with nature.

Demoxstu. — Things that are said to agree with na- ture are understood to agree in power (b}^ Prop. 7,

PART IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE OF THE PASSIONS. 243

Part III.), bnt not in impotency or negation, neither, consequently, in respect of passion {i:}ide Schol. to Prop. 3, Part ; wherefore in so far as men are subject to passion they cannot be said to agree with nature, q. e. d.

SciiOL. — This is even self-evident. For he wlio should say that white and black only agree in neither of them being red, would absolutely affirm that white and black agree in nothing. So, also, if one said that a stone and a man agree only in this : that each is finite and impotent, or that neither of them exist by the necessity of their proper nature, or lastly, that both of them are indefinitely surpassed by the power of external causes, he would affirm absolutely that a stone and a man agree in nothing. For things tiiat only agree negatively or in that which they have not, do not truly agree in anything.

PEOP. XXXIII. — Men may differ in their na- ture in so far as they are agitated by affec- tions which are passions ; and in so far also is one and the same individual man vari- able and inconstant.

Demoxstr. — The nature or essence of the passions cannot be exiDlained by our nature or essence alone (by Defs. 1 and 2, Part III.), but must be defined by the power, that is (b}^ Prop. 7, Part III.), by tlie na- ture of external causes as compared with our nature. Whence it comes to pass that there are as many spe- cies of each affection or passion as there are species of objects by which we are affected {mde Prop. oG, Part III.), and that men are diversely affected by one

* The Edition of 1677, and also the Leipsic Edition, 1843, here cite Part II., but Part III. is evidently meant. — Tn.

spixoza’s ethics.

^J44

and tlie same object (v/de Prop. 51, Part III.), and tliiis and in so far differ in their nature ; and, lastly, that one and the same man (by same Prop. 51, Part III.) maybe diversely affected in respect of the same object, and in so far is variable and inconstant, etc. Q. E. H.

PKOr. XXXIT.— Ill so far as men arc agitated by affections which are passions they may be opposed to each other.

Demoxste. — A man — say Peter — may be the cause of sorrow to Paul, either because he has something about him like that which Paul dislikes (by Prop. 16, Part III.), or because Peter possesses something Avliich Paul does not, but which Paul himself covets [v/de Prop. 82, Part III., and its Schol.), or for other causes (v/de Schol. to Prop. 55, Part III.). Hence it comes that Paul will have dislike or hate for Peter (by Hef . 7, of Passions), and consequently it as read- ily happens that Peter, in his turn (by Prop.. 40 and its Schol., Part III.), will have dislike or hate for Paul; so that (by Prop. 39, Part III.) the effect is that each will be disposed to do the other an injury ; that is to say (by Proj). 30), they are brought into opposition to each other. But the affection of sorrow is always a passion (by Prop. 59, Part III.). There- fore men, in so far as they are agitated by affections which are iiassions, may be opposed to each other.

Q. E. D.

SciiOL. — I have said that Paul Avould hate Peter because he imagined that Peter possessed something which he, Paul, coveted. Whence it would seem at the first thought that these two both liked the same thing, and, consequently, that because they agreed

PART IV. — SL AVERY- -FOPvCE OF THE PASSIOVS. 245

ill their natures they were disposed to injure eacli other. But if this were true, then Props. 30 and 81 would be false. If however we examine into the mat- ter impartially we shall find that in all that has been said there is a perfect agreement. For these two per- sons of whom we have spoken are not inimical to each other in so far as they agree in their nature, that is to say, in so far as they both like the same thing, but in so far as they differ from each other. For in so far as they both like the same thing the love of each is excited (by Prop. 31, Part III.), that is (by Def. 6 of Passions), the feeling of joy is favored in both. Wherefore it is not because they love the same thing and agree in nature that they are inimical to each other ; but the cause of it, as I have said, is nothing else than the assumed discrepancy of their several natures. For let us suppose that Peter has an idea of a thing he loves and now possesses, and Paul, on the other hand, has an idea of a thing he loved and has now lost. It will then happen that the one will be affected by the passion of joy, and the other, on the contrary, by the passion of sorrow ; and in so far will the two be in opposition to each other. And in the same way it would be easy to show that the othej- causes of dislike or hate depend solely on the dis- crepancies, not on the agreements of the natures of men.

PIIOP. XXXV. — 111 so far as iiieii live under the guidance of reason, in so far only do they always and necessarily agree in na- ture.

Demoxstr. — In so far as men are agitated by affec- tions which are passions, their natures may be diverse

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( by Prop. 33) and opposed to eacli other (by preceding Prop.). Bnt in so far only as men act under the gui- dance of reason can they be said to live rationally (by Prop. 3, Part III.), and so whatever follows from human nature in so far as defined by reason, ninst (by Def. 2, Part III.) be understood solely by hnman nature thus defined, as its proximate cause. Bnt as every one by the laws of his nature desires that which he deems to be good, and endeavors to put aAvay that which he judges to be bad (by Prop. 19) ; and, moreover, as that which we judge to be good or bad from the dictates of reason, is necessarily good or bad (by Prop. 41, Part II.), therefore do men, i]i so far as they live under the guidance of reason, do such things only as are necessarily good for all man- kind, and, consequentl}^ necessarily good for every individual man ; in other words (by Coroll. to Prop. 31), which agree ^^dth the nature of each individual man. Therefore do men in so far as they live under the guidance of reason always and necessarily agree in nature with each other, q. e. d.

ConoLL. 1. — There is no single thing in nature more useful to man than the man who lives according to the dictates of reason. For there is nothing more useful to man than that which most agrees with his own nature (by Coroll, to Prop. 31), to wit (as is self- evident) : man. Now man acts absolutely by the laws of his own nature when he lives under the gui- dance of reason (by Def. 2, Part III.), and in so far only does his nature always and necessarily agree Avith the nature of other men (by xireceding Prop.). Therefore there is no single thing in nature more use- ful to man than the man who lives in conformity Avith the dictates of reason, q. e. d.

CoROLT. 2. — When each individual man strives

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most for that which is especially useful to himself, then are men most useful to one another. For the more each one strives for that which is useful to him- self and endeavors to preserve his being, the more he has of virtue (by Prop. 20), or what is the same thing (by Def. 8), the greater is the power with which he is endowed to act according to the laws of Lis proper nature, that is (by Prop. 3, Part III.), to live accord- ing to the dictates of reason. But men most agree in their natures when they live under the guidance of reason (by preceding Prop.). Therefore (by preceding Coroll.) are men most useful to one another when each one strives most for that which is useful to him- self. Q. E. D.

SciiOL. — What has just been said is so clearly con- hrnied by daily experience and illustrated by so many examples, that it has come to be a common saying that — man is a God to man. It seldom happens, however, that men do live accoraing to the dictates of reason ; but, speaking comparatively, the most of them are envious of and opposed to one another. Nevertheless, but few men are found willing to live a solitary life, so that the definition of man as a so- cial being has been generally accepted ; and, indeed, things are so ordered that far more benefits than dis- advantages accrue to man from living in a common society. Satirists, therefore, may ridicule human institutions as much as they please, theologians may execrate them, and misanthropes praise a rude un- civilized life, contemn mankind and admire the brutes, but experience will nevertheless always teach men that by mutual assistance they can much more readily procure all that they require, and that by uniting their powers they can ward off the perils that menace them on every side. I say nothing now of how much

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nobler and infinitely more worthy of our intelligence it is to contemplate the actions of men than those of beasts. But of this I will speak at length in another place.

PROP. XXXYI. — Tlie supreme good of those who practise yirtne is common to all men, and all may equally enjoy it.

Demonstu. — To act virtuously is to act under the guidance of reason (by Prop. 24), and eveiy effort to act reasonably, is understanding (by PiTqi. 2G) ; so that (by Prop. 28) the highest hapjtiness of those avIio practise virtue is to know God, — in other words (by Prop. 47, Part II., and its Schoh), to enjoy a good that is common to all, and which all men, inasmuch as they are of the same nature, may equally possess. Q. E. n.

SciiOL. — Should some one now ask : — What if the supreme good of those who practise virtue should not be common to all men? — Would it not then follow from what has been said {vide Prop. 34), that men who live under the guidance of reason, that is (by Prop. 35), men Avho so far agree in nature, might be found opposed to- one another? I make this re23ly : that it is not by accident, but from the very nature of reason that the supreme good of man should be common to all ; — and this it truly is, because it is de- duced from the A^ery essence of man in so far as it is defined by reason, and because man can neither be nor be conceived to be without the ]AOwer of enjoying this supreme happiness. For it belongs to the essence of the human soul (by Proj). 47, Part II.) to have an ade- quate knoAvIedge of the eternal and infinite essence of God.

PART IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE OF THE PASSIONS. 249

PROP. XXXYII. — The good whicli every ad- herent of virtue desires for himself, he also desires for all other men ; and this so mneh the more as he has a higher, a fuller, know- ledge of God.

Demoxstr. — Men whose lives are guided by rea- son are the most useful to their fellow-men (by Coroll, to Prop. 3o), and therefore the dictate of rea- son necessarily induces ns to Avish that men should live in conformity to reason. Xow the good which every one desires for himself Avho lives according to the dictates of reason, that is (b}^ Prop. 24), avIio ad- heres to virtue, is to understand (by Prop. 26). There- fore the good Avhich every disciple of virtue desires for himseK he Avill desire also for all other men. Again, desire, as referred to the soul, is the very es- sence of the soul (by 1 Def. of Passions) ; but the es- sence of the soul consists in knowledge or under- standing (by Prop. 11, Part II.), Avhich im^olves the knowledge of God (by Prop. 47, Part II.), AAithont Avhich the soul (by Prox3. lo. Part I.) can neither be nor be conceived to be. Thus, therefore, the greater the knowledge of God involved in the essence of the soul, the greater will be the desire of the adherent of virtue that any good he enjoys himself should also be enjoyed by others, q. e. d.

• Another Demonstr. — The good which a man loves and desires, he will love the more constantly if he sees that others loA^e it also (by Proji. 31, Part III.) ; and consequently (by the Coroll, to the same Prop.) he will strive to hai^e others love it. And because this good (by jireceding Pro^i.) is common to all, and all may equally enjoy it, he will further strive (for the same reason) that all should share it, and this (by

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Prop. 37, Part III.) so mucli the more the more^ he himself enjoys it. Q. e. d.

SciiOL.— He who from passion only would have others loye what he loves himself, and would have everybody liye according to his predilections, acts merely from impulse, and is therefore odious to others, especiall}" to those who have different tastes or incli- nations, and who, moved by like impulses, would on the contrary wish to have others live as they do. Further, as the highest good which men desire from mere passion is often such that only one can possess it, it haxipens that in desiring others to like it their minds are not at peace, and whilst delighting to praise the thing they love they yet fear to be taken at their word. But he who would persuade othei’s to be guided by reason acts not from mere impulse, but humanely and benignly, and so is ever at peace in his own soul. Moreover, whatever we desire, whatever we do of which we are ourselves the cause in so far as we have ■ an idea of God, or in so far as we know God, I refer to Religion ; and the desire of doing well which is engendered by living in accordance with reason, I call Piety {pietas). Further, the desire to bind others to himself in friendship which a man feels who lives b}^ reason, I call honor {lionestas)^ and that honorable {honestus) which men who live according to reason commend ; and, on the contrary, I call that dishonor- able or base {turpis) which is incompatible with the^ existence of friendship. I have besides shown what are the foundations of the Civil State. The difference between true virtue and impotence will be easily per- ceived from what has been said above, to wit : that true virtue consists in nothing else than to live ac- cording to the dictates of reason alone ; whilst impo- tence consists solely in this : that man suffers himself

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to be led or governed by things out of or external to himself which determine him to do acts snch as may agree with the common constitution of external things, but which are not such as his proper nature, consider- ed in itself alone, proclaims to be right.

These are the principles which in the Scholium to Proposition 18. I promised to demonstrate, and from which it appears that any law against killing brute animals is founded more upon vain superstition or womanly pity than upon sound reason. Reason,- in- deed, teaches ns the necessity of joining with onr fel- low-men in quest of things useful to us, not however with brutes or things whose nature is different from human nature ; — but the same light they have over us, we have over them. And inasmuch as the right of every individual thing is defined by the virtue or power of the individual, man has a much greater right over the lower animals than they have over him. ^Nevertheless, I do by no means deny that the lower animals feel ; I only deny that it is not lawful or proper for us, by reason of their feeling, to consult onr wants and to use them at our pleasure according to our actual necessities and as may be most conve- nient, seeing that their nature is not conformable to ours, and that their affections are different from those of mankind {vide Schol. to Prop. 57, Part III.).

It now remains for me to explain the meaning of the words just and unjust^ of sin^ and lastly of merit. This I shall do in the following Scholium.

SciiOL. 2. — In the Appendix to the First Part I promised to explain what is to be understood by Praise and Blame, what by Merit and by Demerit or Sin, and what by Just and Unjust. In the Scholium to Prop. 29, Part III., I have already explained what I understandby Praise and Blame, so that I have only

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to speak now of tlie otlier terms ; but I must first say a few words on the iS'atural and Civil State of man.

Every one exists by the supreme riglit of nature ; and consequently every one does by the supreme right of nature that which follows from the necessity of his proper nature ; and lienee every one, by the supreme right of nature, in judging what is good, what bad, and what useful to himself, consults his own inclinations (t'Mc Props. 19 and 20), avenges him- self {mde Coroll. 2 to Prop. 40, Part III.), strives to preserve Avhat he loves, and endeavors to destroy what he hates {vide Prop. 28, Part III.). IS'owif men lived according to reason alone every one would possess this right without detriment to others (by Coroll. 1 to Prop. 35). But inasmuch as they are subject to af- fections or passions (by Coroll, to Prop. 4) Avhich far surpass in force human virtue or power (by Prop. 6), therefore are they often swayed diversely (by Prop. 33) and brought into opposition with one an- other (by Prop. 34) so long as they are not mutually helpful (bj^ Schol. to Prop. 35). In order therefore that men may live in concord and mutually assist each other, it is necessary that they should cede their natural individual rights and give security to each other that they will do nothing that can be injurious to others. jSTow the way in which this may be ac- complished, so that men who are necessarily subject to passions (by Coroll, to Prop. 4), and inconstant and variable (by Prop. 33), can give security and be helpful and faithful to each other, appears by Pro^i. 7 of this Part, and Prop. 39, Part III., — where it is shown that no passion can be restrained except by a contrary and stronger affection, and that every one abstains from doing injury to others through fear of receiving a greater injuiy. A Society, therefore, is

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established by assuming to itself the rights possessed by each individual of deciding vdiat is good and what is bad, and of defending and avenging itself ; and thus it has the power of prescribing the general mode of living, and of making laws and enforcing 'them, — not by reason, however, which cannot restrain the passions (by Schol. to Prop. 17). but by menacing transgressors with punishment. Such a Society, founded on law, and on the power which it has of self-preservation, is called the State, and those who are protected b}^ its laws are called its citizens. From what precedes we readily understand that in the natural state there can be nothing which by common consent is called good or bad ; inasmuch as every one while living in the state of nature considers only what is useful to himself, and decides this or that to be good or bad according to his own inclinations, and in so far only as his own particular interest or advan- tage is concerned ; and no one is held bound to obey any law save his own {l.e. himself) ; so tliat in the state of nature crimes and offenees cannot be con- ceived. But it is not so in the civil state or body- politic, where common consent decides what is good or bad, and where every one is held bound to obey the civil authority. Sin, therefore, or crime and offence, is nothing else than disobedience to law, and on that account alone is it punished by the authorit}' of the State. On the other hand, obedience to law is accounted meritorious in the citizen, and by it is he adjudged worthy to enjoy the j)ihdleges of citizen- ship. Again, in the state of nature no one is owner of anything by common consent, nor is there in nature anything that can be said to belong to some particular man and not to another, but all things belong to all men, so that it is impossible to conceive any desire or

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wish to render to any one that which is his own, or to take away from any one that which is his ; that is to say, in the state of nature there is nothing done that can properly be just or unjust. It is only

in the civil state or body-iiolitic, where general con- sent determines what belongs to e.ach, that actions can be v^xWetijust or unjust.

From all which it appears that just and unjust, merit and demerit or crime are extrinsic notions, not attributes which explain the nature of the soul. But this is enough on this point.

PROP. XXXYIII. — That which disposes the human body to be affected in several ways, or which renders it apt to affect external bodies in several ways, is useful to man ; and by so much the more useful as the body is rendered more apt to be affected and to affect other bodies in many different ways ; as on the contrary, that which renders the body less apt for these various functions is hurtful.

Demoxstk. — The more apt the body becomes to be affected and to affect other bodies, the more apt is the soul to perceive (by Prop. 14, Part II.) ; consequently that which so disposes and renders the body apt for these functions is necessarily useful or good (by Props. 26 and 27), and by so mncli the more useful as the body is rendered more apt ; and on the contrary (by the same Prop. 14, Part II., inversely, and by Props. 26 and 27), that which renders the body less apt for these functions is hurtful, q. e. d.

PART IV. — SLAVERY— FORCE OF THE PASSIONS. 255

PROP. XXXIX. — IVliatever assists in maintain- ing tlie proper ratio between the movement and repose of the constitnent parts of the . p / .

hnman body is good ; and on the eontrarv, whatever disturbs or changes this proper ratio is bad.

De:^ionstr. — The human body lias need of many other bodies for its preservation (by Post. 4, Part II.) ; but that which constitutes the reality or form (forma) of the human body consists in this : that the several constituent parts of the body communicate their re- spective motions to each other in certain definite ra- tios (by the Def. preceding Lemma 4 following Prop.

13, Part II.). Therefore, whatever tends to preserve the proper ratio of movement and repose between the several parts of the human body, tends at the same time to preserve the reality or form of the human body, and consequently (by Postulates 3 and 6, Part II.) makes it x)ossible for the body to be affected in many ways, and also to affect external bodies in many ways ; and this (by j) receding Proj).) is good.

Again, whatever causes a different ratio of move- ment and repose between the parts of the human body, gives at the same time (by same Def., Part II.) another form to the body ; in other words (as is self- evident, and as has been stated at the end of the Preface to this Part), the body is destroyed, and con- sequently rendered wholly unfit to be affected in any way wdiat soever. Therefore (b}^ preceding Prop.) is this bad. Q. e. d.

SciiOL. — How and to what extent these things may be favorable or injurious to the mind or soul, will be explained in the Fifth Part. But I have here to re-

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mark that I understand the body to die when its ])arts are so disposed that they acquire another and different ratio of motion and rest in respect of each other. I dare not deny, however, that tlie human body, the circulation of its blood being retained and tlie other conditions or processes by reason of which it is said to be alive being duly continued, ma}' nevertheless be changed and assume another nature entirely different from its proper nature. For there is no reason for me to think that the body does not die unless it be changed into a corpse, except that experience seems to persuade to the contrary. For it sometimes happens that a man undergoes such changes that it would be difficult to say that he was the same individual. I have lieard tell of a S23anisli jioet who was attacked by some malady, and who. although he recovered from it, yet remained so tlioroughly forgetful of liis past life that he did not ])elieve that the fables and tragedies he had written Avere his, and who, indeed, might have been regarded as an adult infant had he also forgotten his native tongue. And if this appears incredible, Avhat shall Ave say of the infant, aa hose nature the man of mature age thinks so different from his own that he could not be 2)ersuaded that lie too had once been an infant, if he did not infer so much from observation and deduc- tion.

But I prefer to leai^e this subject Avhere it is, lest I furnisli the suiierstitious Avith matter for new ques- tions.

PROP. XL. — WliatcA or conduces to unite men in a common society, or that tends to make them live in concord, is useful or good ;

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and, on tlie contrary, Avliatever brings dis- cord into the coinninnity or State, is evil.

Bemoxste. — For whatever makes men live togetluM- ill concord, makes them at the same time, and in so far, live in conformity with reason (by Prop. 35), and is therefore good tby Props. 2G and 27) ; as, on tlu‘ contrary (and for the same reason), whatever excites discord, is bad. Q. e. d.

PROP. XLI. — Joy {Iwtiti(i) is not directly cvib blit is good. Sorrow (tristitUi), on the con- trary, is directly evil.

Bemoxstk. — Joy (by Prop. 11 and its Schol., Part 111.) is a passion which assists or increases the power of the body to act. Sorrow, on the contiary, is a passion which diminishes or restrains it. Therefore- joy (by Prop. 38j is directly good, etc. q. e. d.

PROP. XLII. — Gayety, Cheerfulness (Jnhiritdfi), can have no excess, bnt is always good and on the contrary. Melancholy {melan cliolUi) is always CAil.

Bemoxstr. — Gayety, Cheerfulness {cide Bef. in Schol. to Prop. 11, Part III.), is joy, which, in so far as referred to the body, consists in this : that all the- parts of the body are alike affected ; that is to say (by Prop. 11, Part HI.), that the poAver of* the body to act is increased or assisted, and in such a AA'ay that all its x)arts reciprocally acquire motion and i-est in the same ratio ; and consequently (by Proj^. 39)., gayety or cheerfulness is always good and cannot be excessive. But Melancholy (for its Bef. vide Schol.. to Prop. 11, Part III.) is soitoaa^, Avhich, in so far as. 17

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r<‘f erred to tlie body, consists in this : that the power ot the body to act is lessened or absolutely re- strained ; consec<uently • (by Prop. 38) it is always evil. Q. E. I).

PROP. XLIII. — Pleasure (titillatio) may be ex- cessive, and in so far as it is excessive may be bad ; on the other hand, Pain (dolor), if not excessive, may so far be good, just as ])leasnre or joy, if excessive, may be bad.

Demonstk. — Pleasure {tUlllatlo) is joy, which, in so far as it is referred to the hody, consists in this : that one or several of the parts of the body are more alfected than others {vide Def. in Schol. to Prop. 11, Part HI.), and the power of this affection may be such that it exceeds the rest of the bodily actions ‘(by Proj:). 6), and takes such hold of and adheres so tenaciously to the body that it is rendered less apt to be affected or inlluenced in various other ways, and thus and in so far (by Prop. 38) this affection or passion may be bad. Pain, which on the contrary is a sor- row, considered in itself alone cannot be good (by Pro]). 41). But as its force and increment is defined by the power of an external cause compared with our ■oAvn inherent power (by Prop, o), an infinity of de- ‘iTees of force and modes of the affection may be conceived (by Pro]-). 3) ; so that we may even conceive it such that it may lestrain bodily pleasures from becoming excessive, and thus (by the lirst part of this demonstratioji) bringing it to jmss that the body shall not be rendered less apt for any of its functions, so tliat in so far Pain may be good. q. e. d.

PATIT IV. — SLAVERY — FOliCE OF THE PASSIOXS. 259

PROP. XLIY. — Love and Desire may be ex- cessive.

DemoxstPw — Love is a jo}- (by 6 Del Passions) ac- companied by tlie idea of an external cause. Pleasure, therefore (by Scliol. to Proj). 11, Part ITL), associated with the idea of an external cause, is love ; conse- (piently love (by jireceding Proji.) may be excessive. Again, desire is as great as the affection itself out of which it arises is great (by Prop. 37, Part III.). Where- fore, as one affection may (by Prop. 6) surpass the other actions in force, so may the desire which arises out of that particular affection exceed the force of* other desires, and hence it is subject to the same ex- cess as is pleasure — as shown in the preceding Propo- sition. Q. E. D.

SciioL. — Cheerfulness (Jiilarifas)^ which I have called good, is more easily conceived than observed. For the emotions by which we are so constantly agitated are mostl}^ referable to some part of the body affected in a greater degree than the other parts, and hence by such an affection, which is usually excessive, the soul is kept to the contemi:)lation of one object so fixedly that it can think of no others ; and although men ar(^ subject to mau}^ passions, so that we rarely meet with any one who is agitated always by one and the same passion only, yet instances are not infrequent of those to whom some one passion pertinaciously adheres. And indeed men have sometimes been seen so affected by one object, that although it was not present befoi'e them, yet have they believed that it was ; and when this happens to a man not asleep, we say he is delirious or insane. Xor are they thought to be less insane, who, burning with love, dream day and night of their mistress or the object of their lov(% although their

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])assioii may move iis to laughter. Wlieii the miser, liowever, thinks of nothing but lucre and his gains ; the ambitious man of nothing but glory, etc., they are not said to be demented, although they are wont to be troublesome, and are regarded as deserving of odium. Nevertheless, Avarice, Ambition, Lust, etc., are really species of delirium, although not numbered among diseases.

l^ROP. XLV. — Hate can never be good.

Demo^^stk. — We would be disposed to injure or de- stroy a man whom we hate (by Prop. 39, Part III.) ; that is (by Prop. 37), we would attempt something that is bad ; therefore, hate can never be good.

Q. E. n.

ScnoL. 1. — Observe that here and in what follow's, I only speak of Hate with reference to man.

Coroll. 1. — En\y, Derision, Contempt, Anger, Revenge, and the other affections or passions referred to hate, or arising from it, are all bad ; as also appears by Prop. 39, Part III., and Prop. 37 of this Part.

Coroll. 2. — All that w^e desire wdien w^e are moved by hate is base {hirpis) in itself, and in the civil state unjust ; as also appears by Prop. 39, Part III., and by the Definition of the terms disltonorcible or hase^ and unjust, wdiich see in the Schol. to Prop. 37, this Part.

ScnoL. 2. — I recognize a great difference betw^een derision (wdiich in Coroll. 1 above, is termed bad) and laughter or jest. For laughter and jest are a kind of Joy ; and so, if tliej^ are only not excessive, are good {by Prop. 41). Nothing, indeed, but a sour and gloom}" superstition forbids us to amuse and enjoy ourselves. For wdiy should it be thought more seemly ur right to satisfy hunger and thirst, than to drive

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away melancholy ? This is my view, and reason leads to it. No deity, none but an envious being, could take pleasure in my helplessness and suffering ; nor do our tears and sobs and fears, and other like affec- tions, whicli are but signs of a feeble or impotent spirit, ever lead us to virtuous conduct ; on the con- trary, the more joyfully we feel, the higher is the state of i^erfection to which we pass,-— in other words, the more do Ave necessarily participate in the Diviiu' nature. It is therefore wise in man to use and enjoy the good things of life in so far as he may (not Iioav- ever to satiety or disgust, for this is not enjoyment). It is AAuse, I say, for man to refresh and recreate him- self by moderate use of ngreeable food and drink, to take delight in sAveet perfumes and beautiful plants and floAvers, to dress tastefully and becomingly, to cultivate the art of music, to join in athletic sjiorts and games, to visit the theatre and indulge in other like diversions, all of Avhich may be done Avithout injury to others. For the human body is composed of many parts of diverse nature, Avhich continually need neAv and varied aliment, in order that the Avhole body may be equally apt for everything Avhereof by its nature it is capable, and consequently that the soul also may be alike apt to understand and feel interest in many things. This course of life, therefore, ac- cords entirely AAUtli my doctrines, and Avith common practice also ; and on this account, if there are other and different rules of life, I believe the one I have here set forth to be the best, and every Avay to be com- mended ; so that I do not think it necessary to say more on the subject.

PlIOP. XLYI.— He who Hags under the gui- dance of reason strives to the extent of his

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jiower to repay the hatred, anger, con- tempt, etc., of others, with love and gen- erosity.

Demonstk. — All the passions that are referred to hate are bad (by Coroll. 1, preceding Prop.), and tliere- fore he who lives in conformit}^ with reason strives as nincli as possible to escape being inllnenced by sncli ])assions (by Prop. 19), and consequently (by Proji. 87) endeavors that another shall not suffer from them. •But hate is increased by reciprocated hate, ami, on the contrary, may be extingnished by love (by Prop. 43, Part III.), so that hate ma}^ even be turned into love (by Prop. 44, Part III.). Therefore he Avho lives according to the dictates of reason endeavors to repay the hate, etc., of others with love, i.e. with generosity (for the Def. of which, vide Scliol. to Prop. 59, Part III.). Q. E. D.

ScnoL. — He who avenges injuries by returning hate for hate will surely live miserably. Whilst, on the contrar}^, he Avho strives to efface liate by love con- tends joyfully and rationally, opposes a mnltifude as easily as he does a single individual, and is as little dependent as possible on Fortune’s aid. Besides, those whom he vanquishes yield to him joyfully — not because of weakness, but of increased strength. These conclusions follow so clearly from the Definitions of Love and Understanding alone, that it seems unneces- sary to demonstrate each one of them separately.

IHIOP. XLYII. — Tlie passions of Hope and Fear cannot of themselves be good.

Demoxstr. — Hope and fear are jiassions insepara- ble from sorrow. For fear (by 13 Def. of Passions) is

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a kind of sorrow, and hope {vide explanation to 12 and 13 Defs. of the Passions) is not nnaccoini^anied by fear. Hence it follows (by Pro^^. 41) that these passions cannot of themselves be good, but only in so far as they may restrain excessive joy (by Prop. 43).

Q. E. 1).

ScTTOL. — To this it must be added, that these pas- sions indicate a want of true knowledge and impo- teiicy of soul. For this reason, also, Security, De- spair, Gladness {gaudium) and Pemorse, are signs of an impotent sonl. For although security and glad- ness are j)assions related to joy, they nevertheless suppose a previous sorrow, namely, hope and fear. The more, therefore, we try to live according to the dictates of reason the less do we depend on hope, the more do we free ourselves from fear, the more do we strive as far as possible to command fortune, and to direct our actions conformabl}' to the sure counsels of reason.

PROP. XLYIII. — Laudation {cxistimatio) and Depreciation (despectus) are always bad.

Demoxstr. — For these passions (by 21 and 22 Deb’, of Passions) are repugnant to reason, and are there- fore bad (by Props. 28 and 27). Q. e. d.

PROP. XLIX. — Flattery (cxistimatio) is apt to make the man who is tlie recipient of it vainglorious and proud.

Demoxstr. — If any one pays us more respect or attention, or praises us more than is proper, we feel I^leased, and are easily disposed to glorify oun elves (by Schol. to Prop. 41, Part III.), and (by 30 Def. Passions) readily believe all the good we hear said of

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ourselves (by Prop. 25, Part III.). Whence it comes that through self-love we think more highly of our- selves than is just ; in other w'ords (by 28 Def. Pas- sions), we easily become vainglorious and proud.

(^ E. D.

PEOP. L. — Coniniiseration is in itself evil and useless to the man who Ha es according to the dictates of reason.

Dealoxste. — For commiseration is a kind of sorrow (by 18 Def. Pass.), and therefore (by Prop. 41) bad in itself. The good that flows from it is the effort that we nuike to free the man who is the object of our pity from his misery (by Coroll. 3 to Proj). 27, Part III.), and this effort results from the dictates of reason alone (by Prop. 37) ; nor can we do anything that we know for certain to be good, save by the dictates of 1‘eason (by Prop. 27). Therefore, in the man Avhose life is guided by reason, commiseration is in itself bad and useless. Q. e. n.

CoKOLL. — Hence it follows that the man who lives conformably to reason endeavors as much as possible not to be moved or influenced by pity or commisera- tion.

ScnoL. — He avIio rightly understands that all things follow from the necessity of the Divine nature and accoi'ding to eternal laws, Avill never meet Avith aiiA'- thing worthy of hate, mockery, or contempt ; nor Avill he commiserate any one ; but in so far as comports with human virtue he endeavors to do Avell, and, as the saying is, Ho go on his AAmy rejoicing.’ To this let me add that the man who is easily touHied by pity and moved by the tears and miseries of others, often does things Avhich he afterwards regrets ; and this is

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because we can seldom, when actuated by a mere passion or sentiment, do anything that we know for certain to be good ; and, further, because we are easily deceived by false tears and tales. Here it is to be expressly understood that I am siieaking of the man who lives according to the dictates of reason ; for he who is neither moved by reason nor pity to be lielpfnl to others, is rightly called inhuman; for, in- deed (by Prop. 27, Part III.), such a man seems to be unlike other men.

PllOP. LI. — Partiality {favor') is not repugnant to reason, but may agree with and arise from it.

Demoxstr. — For partiality is love for one who does good to others (by 19 Def. Pass.), and consequently it may be refeiaed to the soul in so far as the soul may be said to act (by Prop. 59, Part HI.), that is (by Prop. 3, Part III.), in so far as it understands ; and so partiality agrees with reason, etc. Q. e. d.

Axotiier Demoxstr. — He who is guided by reason finds it good that what he desires for himself should also be desired by another (by Prop. 37). Wherefore when he sees one benefiting others he is himself stimulated to beneficence ; in other Avords (by Prop. 11, Part III.), he feels pleasure, Avhich (by hypothe- sis) is accompanied by the idea of the person avIio is benefiting others ; and thus (by 19 Def. Pass.) he has a liking or partiality for him. q. e. d.

SciiOL. — Indignation, as defined by ns {vide 20 Def. Pass.), is necessarily evil (by Prop. 45). But it is to be observed that I do not say that the supreme authority is moved by indignation wdien, desiring to maintain peace in the State, it punishes a citizen

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who lias wronged anotlier ; because the supreme ] lower is not incited by hate to destroy an offending citizen, but is moved by justice and duty to society to punish liim.

PEOP. Lir. — Acquiescence, Contentment (ae- quicsccntiu may proceed from reason ; and the eontentment or peace of mind wliicli arises from reason alone is tlie highest tliat man can attain.

De^^ioxste. — Contentment is the joy that arises fj'orri man’s contem])lation of himself and his powers of action (by 25 Def. Pass.). But, in fact, man’s power of action or virtue is reason itself (by Prop. 3, Part III.), which he contemplates clearly and distinctly (by Props. 40 and 43, Part II.). Therefore does con- tentment arise from i-eason itself. Again, in contem- })lating himself man nothing clearly and

distinctly or adequatel}^ except those things which follow from his power of action (by Def. 2, Part III.), that is (by Prop. 3, Part III.), from his of un-

derstanding. Consequently, from this self-contem- plation alone does the highest possible degree of con- tentment or peace of mind take its rise. Q. e. d.

SciiOL. — Self-content or acquiescence is indeed the sum of all we can hope for in life. For (as shown in Prop. 25) no one strives to preserve his being for any other end than himself ; and as self-content is more and more confirmed and strengthened by commenda- . tion (by Coroll, to Prop. 53, Part IIP), and on the contrary (by Coroll. 1 to Prop. 55, Part III.), is more and more disturbed by blame, therefore are we most of all allured by praise, and can hardly endure life with disgrace and opprobrium.

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PKOP. LlII. — Humility is not a virtue ; in other words, it does not spring from reason.

Demo:^7Str. — Humility is a sorrow that arises from mail's contemplation of liis own impotency (by 26 Hef. Pass.). In so far, lioAvever, as a man has a reasonable knoAvledge of himself, in so far is lie sup- posed to understand his own essence or being, that is to say (by Prox). 7, Part III.), his own x)Ower or abil- \ty. Wherefore if a man in considering himself be- comes aware of any incaxiacity, this does not come from the understanding or knowledge he has of him- self, but (as shoAvn in Prop. 65, Part HI.) because of his jiower of action being restrained. But if Ave suxipose a man to conceive himself incapable because of his understanding that there is a capacity greater than his OAvn, the knoAviedge of AAdiich determines his OAvn xiOAver of action, then do aa^o conceiA^e nothing else than that the man distinctly understands him- self (by Pro]!. 26), and thereby is his x^OAA^er of action aided. Therefore humility or the sorroAA" that arises from man’s contemplating his OAAm imxiotence, does not xu'oceed from true retlection or reason, and is not a Aurtue but a passion, q. e. d.

PIIOP. LIY. — Pexieutauce is not a virtue, or does not arise from reason ; on the con- trary, he who rexients of any act he lias done is twice miserable or impotent.

Heaionstr. — The first part of tliis xiroposidon is demonstrated in the same Avay as the xireceding one. The second xi^^rt of it is self-evident from the very definition of rexientance (vide 27 Hef. Pass.). The

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penitent first suffers liimself to be led by a depraved or wrong desire, and is next subdued by sorrow.

ScnoL. — Because men so rarely live according to tlie dictates of reason, therefore these two passions of hu- mility and repentance, together with those of hope and fear, are more useful than detrimental, — and so if men are to sin at all it is best that they sin in a way that admits of repentance and humility. For if men of feeble souls were all alike proud and arro- gant, felt no shame for anything they did, and had no fears, by what means could they be controlled and held in check ? A mob terrifies when it has no fear. Wherefore it is not surprising that the Prophets of old, who consulted the common welfare and not the interests of a few, so highly commended humility, re- j)entance, and reverence. And they, indeed, who are subject to these affections are much more easily led to live at length according to reason than those who are not — that is, to live in freedom and enjoy the life of the blessed.

PROP. LV. — Excessive Arrogance {superhia) or excessive Abjectness {ahjcctio) are in- dicative of complete ignorance of self.

Demonstr. — This is manifest by the 28th and 29th Definitions of the Passions.

PROP. LYI. — Excessive Arrogance or excessive Abjectness indicates extreme impotence of soul.

Demonstr. — The first foundation of virtue is the preservation of our own being (by Coroll, to Prop.

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22) in conformity to the dictates of reason (by Prop. 24). He who knows not himself is ignorant of the foundation of all virtue, and consequently of all the virtues. Besides, to act virtuously is nothing more than to act according to the dictates of reason (by Prop. 24), and he who acts according to these dictates necessarily knows that he acts according to reason (by Prop. 43, Part II.). He, therefore, who is in the highest degree ignorant of himself, and consequently (as we have just shown) ignorant of all the virtues, can never act virtnonsl}^ ; in other words dis mani- fest by Hef. 8), his soul is impotent in the highest de- gree ; so that excessive arrogance or excessive abject- ness indicates extreme impotency of soul. q. e. o.

Coroll. — Hence it clearly follows that the arrogant and the abject are those who are most under the do- minion of the passions.

SciiOL. — Abject ness, however, ma\’ be more easily corrected than arrogance, seeing that the foi-mer is nn affection of sorrow, while arrogance is referable to joy, which (by Prop. 18) is a more potent passion than sorrow.

IHIOP. LYII. — The proud, arrogant man {su- pcrlnis) loves to be surrounded by parasites or flatterers, and hates frank, plain-dealing men {(jencrosi^.

Demoxstp.. — Arrogance [superMa) is a joy arising from this : that a man thinks more highly of himself than is just (by 28 and 6 Def. of Pass.), which opinion the arrogant man endeavors as much as possible to cherish {inde Schol. to Prop. 13, Part III.). There-

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fore he loves the presence of parasites or flatterers (deflnitjons of whom I omit, as they are well known), and shuns the fraidv and plain-dealing who estimate Jjim at his true worth, q. e. d.

SciroL. — It would take too long to enumerate all the evils of pride and arrogance ; for the proud and arro- gant are obnoxious to all the passions, but are moved by none less than by love and pity. But I must not omit to say that he also is called arrogant or proud who thinks less of others than is just ; and in this sense arrogance or pride should be defined as a kind of joy arising from a false opinion which a man en- tertains that he is better than others ; whilst abjec- ’ tion or humility, which is the opposite of j)ride or ar- rogance, should be defined as a sorrow arising from a false opinion which leads a man to believe that he is inferior to others. This established, we readily con- ceive that an arrogant man is necessarilj" envious of others (vide Schol. to Prop. 55, Part III.), hates above all those who are most praised for their virtues, does not readily suffer his dislikes to be overcome by love and kindness (vide Schol. to Pj'op. 41, Part III.), and only takes pleasure in the company of those who by their behavior towards him foster his im potency of soul, and from the fool that he is make a crazy man of him.

Abjectness, although the opposite of arrogance, is yet near akin to it. For though the abject man experiences sorrow arising from the contrast which he judges to exist between his own imjiotency and the power or virtue of others, yet is his grief lessened, that is to say, it gives place to joy as soon as his imagination is occu])ied in contemi:>lating the vices or faults of others, — whence the proverb : Sola- men miseris socios liabidsse mcdontm (The wretched

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find comfort in tlie misfortunes of others). On the other hand, the greater will be tlie grief of tbe abject man the more he is led to believe liimself inferior to others. Hence it conies to pass that none are more prone to envy than the abject, none more disposed to watch the actions of tlieir fellow-men with a view of carping at their faults ratber than of correcting tbem, and, linally, to vaunt and extol their OAvn abjectness or humility, but still in such a way as to ajipear humble. These results follow as necessarily from this affection or ]r)assion as from tbe nature of the tri- angle it follows that its three angles are equal to tAvo right angles ; and I have already said that Avhen I de- signate this and similar ])assions as evil, I am con- sidering human usefulness only. But the hiAvs of na- ture have regard to the general order of nature, of which man is a ; ‘tiid this I desire to mention in passing, lest it should be thought that it AA^as my intention here to speak of the vices and {oolish ac-' tions of men, and not to demonstrate the nature and ])roperties of things. In the Pipface to the Third Part, liojveA'er, I have said that I inwstigate tbe bu- man passions and their properties in the same man- ner as I do all natural things. And certainly the hu- man passions proclaim the art and poAver of nature, if not of man, no less than a multitude of other things Avliich vA^e admire, and in the contemplation of Avhich Ave take delight. But I pioceed Avitli my examina- tion of the passions, and of Avhat there is in them useful or injurious to mankind.

“The text of the oiifrinal edinou, 1C77, reads ut uulli ad Ivxidiam fiint pro7ii ; hut in the tphalmaia corrigenda at the end of the volume, it is corrected to read, indli wagis ad, etc. Saisset overlooked this, or he would not have appended the note to his French translation, p. 233, tome III. Ed. 1861.— Tk.

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PROP. LVITT. — Glory is not repugnant to reason, but may arise from it.

Demoxste. — This appears in the 30th Definition of the Passions, and in the definition of Honor {Ttonea- ias) — whicli see in S(dio]. 1 to Prop. 37.

SciiOL. — What is called vaingloiy is that acqui- escence or self-content which is fostered by mere vul- gar opinion ; for this ceasing, the self -content, in other words (by Schol. to Prop. 52), tlie summiun honuin which every one loves, ceases also. Whence it happens that he who glories in a favorable public opinion bears a daily burden of anxiety and makes constant efforts to preserve his fame ; for the mass are changeable and inconstant, and unless his cele- brity is maintained and supported it soon decays and ])asses away. And inasmuch as among those who strive to win public applause, it is easy for some one of them to eclipse the fame of another and in the struggle obtain that to which each aspires as the summiun hoiium of life, there arises a strong desire to overthrow or strike down each other, and he who at length emerges victorious from the strife is often more elated by the injury he has done to a rival than b}" any advantage he has gained for himself. Such glory, such self -content is therefore vain indeed, for it has no reality.

AVhat might be remarked in regard to Shame {pudor) is readily to be gathered from what has been said touching pity and repentance. I only add, that as it is with commiseiation, so is it also Avith shame, \ Avhich, although it is no virtue, is yet good, inasmuch ) as it indicates that the man Avhose face is suffused through shame still feels desirous to live honestly and virtuously, even as pain in a Avounded part may

PAKT IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE OF THE PASSIOXS. 273

in so far be said to be good as it indicates that morti- fication lias not set in. Wherefore, although the man who has done something of which he feels ashamed suffers sorrow and rej)entance therefor, still is he far better than the impudent or shameless man who feels no compunction and has no desire to live an honest and proper life.

Snell are the views I have undertaken to set forth in reference to the passions of Joy and Sorrow.

As regards the desires generally, they are either good or evil according as they arise from good or evil passions. But all of them, in so far as they originate in ourselves from affections which are passions, are blind (as may readily be gathered from what has been said in the Schol. to Prop. 44), and would be of no utility if men could easily be induced to live wholly by the dictates of reason, as I shall now briefly show.

PKOPi LIX. — All actions to which we are de- termined by an affection which is a pas- sion, we may also be determined to inde- pendently of this passion, by reason.

.T)e:\[oxstr. — To act from reason is only to do those- things that result from the necessity of our nature considered in itself (by Prop. 3 and Def. 2, Part III.).. But sorrow^ is evil in so far as it diminishes or sup- liresses our power of action (by Prop. 41). Therefore we cannot be determined by this affection or passion to do any act which we would not be capable of doing if led by reason. Even joy, too, is evil, but only in so far as it prevents or makes man less capable of acting (by Props. 41 and 43) ; consequently joy can- not determine us to any action which we would not 18

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be capable of if led by reason. Lastly, insofar as joy is good, in so far does it accord with reason (for it agrees with it in this : that it assists in augmenting or strengthening man’s power of action); and it is not a passion unless and except in so far as it fails to augment man’s power of action so that he does not adequately conceive himself and his actions (by Prop. 3 and its SchoL, Part III.). Wherefore, if -man were brought by the passion of joy to such a state of per- fection that he conceived himself and his actions ade- quately, he would become apt, yes, far more apt, for the actions to which he might be determined by the affections which are passions. But all passions are referable to J oy. Sorrow, or Desire ((pide explanation to 4 Def. Pass.) ; and desire (by 1 Def. Pass.) is itself nothing but the effort to act. Therefore all the ac- tions to which we may be determined by an affection which is a passion, Tve may also be led to perform by reason only. q. e. d.

Anothee Dehonste. — An action is called bad in so far as it arises from hate or any other evil passion by which we are affected {pide Coroll. 1 to Prop. 45). But no action considered in itself alone is either good or bad (as we have shown in the Preface to this Part), but one and the same action may be sometimes good, sometimes bad. Wherefore even reason may lead us to an action which is sometimes bad, or which is bad when it arises from some bad passion (by Prop. 19).

Q. E. D.

ScHOL. — Let me explain this more clearly by an example. The act of striking, considered physically and with regard only to the fact that a man raises his arm, clenches his hand, and brings it down with force, is a power which is conceived by the mechan- ism of the human body. If, therefore, a man is

PART lY.— SLAVERY — FORCE OF THE PASSIONS. 275

moved by anger or bate to clench liis fist and move his arm as in striking, this comes to pass, as I have shown in the Second Part, because with one and the same action images of various things may be asso- ciated, so that we may be determined to one and the same action by those imaginations of things which we conceive confusedly, as well as by those which we conceive clearly and distinctly. It therefore appears that every desire tliat arises from an affection which is a passion would be useless if man was always led by his reason. Let us how see why desire that arises from an affection which is a passion is by us called Mind.

PEOP. LX. — The desire which springs from joy or sorrow and is referred to one or to several but not to all the parts of the body, has no reference to utility as regards the whole man.

Demonstr. — Let us suppose, for example, that A, a part of the body, is so invigorated by the action of an external cause that it prevails over or has greater power than the other parts (by Prop. 6), — this part A will not endeavor to lessen its power in order that the other parts may duly perform their functions, for this would imply that it had of itself the ability to lose its power, which (by Prop. 6, Part III.) is ab- surd. The part A of the body, therefore, and conse- quently (by Props. 7 and 12, Part III.) the soul also,

' will strive to preserve their state or condition of being ; hence the desire that arises from such a i3assion of joy has no reference to the whole of the body. For if, on the contrary, the power of the part A is sup- posed to be coerced or lessened, so that the other

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parts prevail over it, it may be demonstrated in tlie same way that neither does the desire which springs from sorrow have reference to the whole of the parts of the body. q. e. d.

SciiOL. — Since joy, therefore (by Scliol. to Prop. 44), is mostly referable to one part of the body, there- fore do we mostly desire to preserve onr state of being without reference to the healthy constitution of our body as a whole. To which it may be added, that the desires by which we are most strongly possessed have reference to the present time only, not to the future (by Coroll, to Prop. 9).

PROP. LXI. — Desire that arises from reason cannot be exeessiye.

Demoxstr. — Desire considered absolutely (by 1 Def. Pass.) is the very essence of man, conceived as de- termined to action in whatsoever manner. Hence the desire that arises from reason, that is to say (by Prop. 8, Part III.), which is engendered within ourselves, is, in so far as we act, the very essence or nature of man, conceived as determined to those actions which are adequately conceived by the essence of man alone (by Def. 2, Part III.). . If therefore this desire could be excessive, then might human nature, considered in itself alone, exceed itself, ix. it might accomplish more than its own power of performance, which is a manifest contradiction. Consequently desire arising from reason cannot be excessive. Q. e. d.

PROP. LXII. — In so far as the soul conceives things according to the dictates of reason it is equally affected whether the idea be of a thing x^ast, x)i’esent, or future.

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Demohstr. — AVhatever the soul conceives under the guidance of reason, it always conceives under the same species of eternity or necessity (by Coroil, 2 to Prop. 44, Part II.), and is affected with the same cer- tainty Prop. 43 and its SclioL, Part II.). Where- fore, whether the idea be of a thing past, present, or future, the soul will conceive it by the same necessity and be affected by it with the same certainty ; and the idea, whether it be of a thing past, present, or to come, will nevertheless be equally true (by Projo. 41,

. Part II.) ; that is to say (by Del 4, Part II.), it will always have the properties of an adequate idea. And thus, in so far as the soul conceives things according to the dictates of reason, it is affected in the same way, whether the idea be of a thing past, present, or future. Q. E. D.

ScHOL. — If we could have an adequate cognition of the duration of things, and by our reason determine the time of their existence, we should be affected in the same way by things contemplated as present, or as to come ; and the good which the soul conceived as a thing in the future it would then desire as if it were present, and so would necessarily neglect a lesser present good for a greater future good, and would have less desire for that which is a i^resent good, but which might be the^ cause of a future evil, as I shall soon demonstrate. But we can have only a very in- adequate knowledge of the duration of things (by Prop. 31, Part II.), for we determine the times of their existence by our imagination alone (by Schol. to Prop. 44, Part II.), which is not equally affected by the image of a thing present and that of a thing to come. Whence it happens that the actual knowledge we have of good and evil is abstract or general only ; and the judgments we form of the order of things and

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the connection of causes, with a view to determine what is good or evil for us at present, are rather im- aginary than real. It is not surprising, therefore, if the desire that arises from the knowledge of good and evil, in so far as it relates to the future, should be so easily restrained by the desire of things that are agreeable at the present time. On this ^Doint, mde Prop. 18.

PEOP. LXIII. — He who is led by fear to do good that he may escape evil, is not guided by reason.

Demonste. — All the passions referred to the soul in so far as it acts, that is (by Prop. 3, Part HI.), all the passions referred to reason, are nothing else than affections of joy and desire (by Prop. 59, Part III.). Consequently (by 13 Def. Pass.), he who is moved by fear and does good from apprehension of evil, is not guided by reason. Q. e. d.

ScHOL. 1. — The superstitious who are more ready to denounce vices than to teach virtues, who do not guide mankind by reason but attempt to drive them by tear, and who would rather have them shun evil than love virtue, intend only to make others as mis- erable as themselves ; and therefore it is not surpris- ing that so many of them are regarded by their fellow-men as hateful and troublesome.

CoEOLL. — The desire that arises from reason leads us directly to follow the good, and indirectly to shun the evil.

Demonste. — For the desire that proceeds from rea- son can arise only from an affection of joy which has not the character of a passion (by Prop. 59, Part III.), that is, from a joy that is not excessive (by Prop.

PAHT IV. — SLAVEEY — FOECE OF THE PASSIOI^^S. 279

61) ; and it cannot proceed from an affection of sor- row. Hence it follows that this desire (by Prop. 8) arises from a knowledge of good, not of evil. Guided by reason, therefore, we directly desire the good, and in doing so we shun the evil. Q. e. d.

. SciiOL. 2. — This Corollary is illustrated by the ex- ample of a sick and a well man. The sick man, for fear of dying, takes medicines which he dislikes ; but the well man takes food with pleasure, and thus en- joj^s life more than if he dreaded death and sought directly to escape it. So also the judge who, not from hate, anger, etc., but from regard to the public safety alone, condemns a criminal to death, is guided simply by reason.

PHOP. LXIV. — Our knowledge of evil is in- adequate knowledge.

Demoxste. — The knowledge of evil, in so far as we are conscious of it (by Prop. 8), is sorrow itself.^.- But sorrow is the transition from a greater to a less perfection (by 3 Def. Pass.), which cannot therefore be understood by the essence of man considered in itself (by Props. 6 and 7, Part HI.). Consequently (by Def. 2, Part III.) sorrow is a passion which (by Prop. 3, Part III.) is dependent upon inadequate ideas ; and therefore (by Prop. 29, Part II.) the know- ledge we have of sorrow, that is, the knowledge of evil, is inadequate knowledge, q. e. d.

CoEOLL. — Hence it follows that if the soul had none but adequate ideas, it would form no notion of evil.

PKOP. LXV. — Of two goods reason leads ns to desire or follow the greatest, and of two evils, the least.

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Demokstk. — A good wliidi would prevent onr en- joying a greater good would really be an evil. For good and evil (as we liave sliown in tlie Preface to this Part) are terms applied to things as compared with one another ; and (for the same reason, i.e. by comparison) a minor evil is really a good. Where- fore (by the Coroll, to preceding Prop.), of two goods reason leads us to desire or follow the greatest, and of two evils, the least. Q. e. d.

CoKOLL. — Guided by reason we choose a less evil for the sake of a greater good, and we neglect a mi- nor good which might become the cause of a greater evil. For the evil which is here called less is really a good, and, on the contrary, the good that is called less is really an evil. Wherefore (by the Coroll, to preceding Prop.) we desire the one and neglect the other. Q. E. D.

PROP. LX VI. — Led by reason we desire a greater future good rather than a lesser present good, and a lesser present evil rather than a future greater evil.*

Demoa^ste. — If the soul could have adequate knowledge of a future thing, it would be affected by

* In the original there is an apparent ambiguity in the second part of this Proposition. The edition of 1677 reads : et malum praesens minus, quod causa est futura alicujus mali, ex rationi ductu appete- mus. In a note to his French translation Saisset says, alicvjus mali (evil) makes the Proposition unintelligihle, and he cites the edition of Gfroerer (1830) as reading alicujus boni (good), which reading he adopts.

Willis, in his English translation (1870) I find drops “ quod causa est,'''' substituting for it “ rather thanj"* thus obviating any necessity of reading honi for mali. This change, though a bold one, makes the latter part of the Proposition consonant with its first part, and is also supported by the Demonstration, which refers to a future eril as well

PAET IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE OF THE PASSIONS. 281

it in the same way as it is affected by a present thing (by Prop. 62). Wherefore, as regards reason itself, — and in this Proposition we are supposed to have re- gard to reason alone, — it is the same thing whether it be a greater present or future good or evil that is supposed. And hence (by Prop. 65) we desire a greater future good before a lesser present one.

Q. E. D.

Coroll. — Reason leads ns to desire a minor present evil which will be the cause of a greater future good, and to neglect a minor present good which will be the cause of a greater future evil. This Coroll, has the same relation to Prop. 65 as the Coroll, to that same Prop, itself has.

SciiOL. — If therefore what has just been said is compared with what has been said on the force of the passions in this Part as far as Proposition 18, it will be readily seen what a difference there is between the man wlio is led by mere passion or opinion, and the, man who is led by reason. For the former, willingly or not, acts in real ignorance of what he does ; the latter obeys no one but himself, and does that only which he knows to be best in life, and which he con- sequently most truly desires. Therefore do I call the former Slave and the latter Free ; — and here I shall proceed to make a few remarks on the character and mode of life of each of these classes of men.

PEOP. LXyil. — The free man thinks of no-

as to a future good, whereas the alteration of Gfroerer (which I have not seen) effaces from the Proposition any reference to a future evil ; and, besides, if adopted, the first part of the succeeding Corollary be- comes a mere repetition of the second part of the Proposition. For these reasons I have preferred to follow AVillis rather than Gfroerer and Saisset. — Tr.

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tiling less than of death ; and his wisdom is meditation of life, not of death.

Demohstk. — The free man, that is, he who lives ac- cording to the dictates of reason alone, is not led or influenced by fear of death (by Prop. 63), but desires good directly (by Coroll, to same Prop.) ; in other words (by Prop. 24), he desires to live and act — to con- tinue in his state of being — with the fundamental view of seeking that which is useful to himself ; con- sequently he thinks of nothing less than of death ; and his wisdom is meditation of life, not of death. Q. E. H.

PKOP. LXYIII. — If men were born free, they would form no conception of good and evil so long as they continued free.

Dehohstr. — I have called him free who is guided by reason alone. He, therefore, who was born free and remained so, would have no other than adequate ideas, and so would have no conception of evil (by Coroll, to Prop. 64), and, consequently (good and evil being correlatives), no conception of good. Q. e. d.

ScHOL. — That the hypothesis upon which this Proposition rests is not false, and can only be con- ceived to be so when the nature of man, or rather the nature of God, is alone considered, not as God is infi- nite, but only in so far as cause why man exists, appears by Proposition 4 of this Part. And this, among other things already demonstrated, seems to have been signified by Moses in the history of the first man. For therein no other power of God is con- ceived than that by which man was created, namely, the power whereby God only provided for that which

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should be of use to man ; and it is in this sense that he narrates that God forbade the free man to eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, and declared to him that so soon as he should eat thereof he would forthwith rather fear to die than de- sire to live. Further, when the man had found the wife whose nature agreed so entirely with his own, he knew that there could not be anything in Nature more useful to him than she ; but when afterwards he believed the lower animals to be like himself, he began forthwith to imitate their passions {mde Prop. 27, Part III.) and so lost his freedom. This, however, the Patriarchs subsequently recovered, led by the Spirit of Christ, that is, by the idea of God, which alone is able to make man free, and to lead him to desire for others the good he desires for himself, as we have (by Prop. 37) demonstrated.

PEOP. LXIX. — The virtue of the free man is equally as great in discerning and avoiding as in overcoming danger.

Demonstr. — An affection or passion can neither be restrained nor suppressed except by the coercion of a contrary and stronger affection (by Prop. 7)."^ But blind audacity and fear are both passions which can be conceived as equally great (by Props. 5 and 3). Therefore is equal power of soul or fortitude {vide Bef. in Schol. to Prop. 59, Part III.) required to restrain boldness as to overcome fear ; that is to say (by 40 and 41 Def. of Pass.), the man who is free avoids danger by a like power of soul as that whereby he overcomes them. q. e. d.

* The original edition of 1677 cites Prop. 9, but Prop. 7 is clearly intended. Bruder, in the edition, Lipsise, 1843, makes the correction.

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CoKOLL. — The free man therefore shows as much courage {animositas) in fleeing at a proper time as he does when he engages in conflict ; in other words, the free man elects to retreat or to contend with equal courage or presence of mind.

SciiOL. — I have explained in the Schol. to Prop. 59, Part III., what courage is, or what I understand it to be. By danger I understand whatever may be the cause of some evil, such as sorrow, hate, discord, etc.

PROP. LXX. — The free man who lives among ignorant peo]3le, declines as far as possible to receive favors from them.

Demonstk. — Every one judges of what is good ac- cording to his own disposition or inclination (by Schol. to Prop. 39, Part III.). The ignorant person who has conferred a favor estimates it therefore according to his own way of thinking, and if he sees that it is but lightly esteemed by him on whom it is conferred, he is grieved (by Prop. 42, Part III.). The free man, however, desires to bind others to him by ties of friendship (by Prop. 37) ; he does not seek to i^ay them back with favors that will be an equivalent for what he has himself received from them, but he en- deavors to be guided himself, and to have others guided by the free judgment of reason, and only strives to do those things he knows to be truly good. There- fore the free man, that he may not be hated by the ignorant, and not countenance their blind desires, but live in compliance with reason alone, endeavors as far as possible to decline their favors. Q. e. d.

Schol. — I say as far as possible. For though men are ignorant, yet still are they men, who in the exi- gencies of life are capable of rendering human aid —

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than which there is none better. Hence it often hap- pens that it is necessary to accept their favors, and, consequently^ to receive them thankfully in the same spirit in which they are protfered. Add to this, that even in declining a protfered favor circumspection is requisite, lest we seem to despise him who offers it, or from stinginess appear fearful that some recom- pense will be expected, and so, i n endeavoring to avoid ill feeling, incur the risk of giving offence. Wherefore in declining favors we are to have regard to what is useful and becoming.

PEOP. LXXI. — Pree men alone are truly grate- ful toward one another.

Hemoxstr. — Free men alone are most useful to each other, are most united together by the necessi- ties of true friendship (by Prop. 35 and its Coroll. 1.), and studiously endeavor with like- love to do each other service (by Prop. 37) ; therefore (34 Hef. Pass.) free men alone are truly grateful to each other.

Q. E. D.

ScHOL. — The gratitude which men who are led hy blind desire feel toward one another, is mostly of the nature of traffic or a cunning game {aucupium)^ rather than true gratitude. Ingratitude, indeed, is not a passion, yet is it a baseness which very often indicates that those who show it are possessed by such passions as hate, anger, pride, avarice, etc. He who through foolishness or stupidity knows not how or neglects to give thanks for benefits received, is not necessarily ungrateful ; much less so is he who is not moved by the gifts of a wanton to gratify her lascivious desires, nor of a thief to conceal his robbery, or anything else of a similar character. He, on the

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contrary, sLows himself to be a man of an upright and steadfast soul whom no bribes or allurements can corrupt to his own degradation or the public detri- ment.

PEOP. LXXII. — The free man never acts de- ceitfully or with evil design, but always with good faith.

Demonste. — If the free man acted deceitfully or with evil design, he would, inasmuch as he is free, act by the dictates of reason (for we have only called him free in so far as he does so act) ; so that for him to act with deceit or evil design would be a virtue (by Prop. 24), and consequently (by same Prop.) every one, in order to conserve his state of be- ing, would do wisely to act in that manner ; that is (obviously), it would be good for men to agree in words only and oppose each other in acts, — which (by Coroll, to Prop. 31) is absurd. Therefore the free man never acts deceitfully, etc. q. e. d.

ScHOL. — If I am now asked : What if a man could by perfidy alone free himself from danger of present death, would not reason persuade him by all means to be perfidious and so preserve his life ? I answer thus : If reason did so persuade him, then the advice Avould be for all mankind ; and consequently reason would counsel all men not to unite peacefully and have rights in common, unless for deceitful and evil purposes ; that is to say, that they should not really have rights in common and live peacefully together, — which is absurd.

PEOP. LXXIII. — The man whom reason guides is freer when he lives in a community un-

PAET IV. — SLAYEKY — FORCE OF THE PASSIONS. 287

der tlie bond of common laws, than when he lives in solitude Avhere he obeys himself alone.

Demonste. — The man whom reason guides is not moved to obedience by fear (by Prop. 63) ; but as he seeks to preserve his being in conformity with the dictates of reason, that is (by Schol. to Prop. 66), as he endeavors to live free, he desires to observe and maintain the common rules of life and utility (by Prop. 37), and consequently (as we have shown in Schol. 2 to Prop. 37) to live obedient to the common laws and decrees of the State. Therefore the man who is led by reason and desires to live in the high- est freedom, obeys the common laws of his country. Q. E. n.

Schol. — This and other like doctrines which we have presented of the true freedom of man^ are to be referred to fortitude, that is (by the Schol. to Prop. 59, Part 111.), to courage and generosity. I do not think it necessary to mention and describe separately all the forms and properties of fortitude, and still less to insist that the courageous and generous man hates no one, neither is he angry, envious, indignant, nor contemptuous, and is not proud or haughty. For this, as well as all else that concerns or pertains to true life and religion^ can readily be deduced from what is said in Props. 37 and 46, — namely, that hate is to be vanquished by its opposite — love ; and that every man who is guided by reason, desires that the good he wishes for himself should be enjoyed by others also. To which must be added what has been said in the Scholium to Proposition 50, and in other places besides : that the strong, courageous, generous man remembers, above all, that whatsoever happens.

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results from tlie necessity of tlie Divine Xature ; and consequently that whatsoever he judges to be trouble- some and evil, whatever appears to him to be impious, horrible, unjust, and base, arises from this : — namely, from disordered, imperfect, and confused conceptions of things ; and for this reason especially does he strive to understand things as they really are in themselves, and to remove all obstacles to a true con- ception and knowledge of them, — such as hate, anger, envy, derision, pride, and all other like evil passions which we have treated of in the preceding pages, — in order, as I have said, that lie may endeavor as far as possible to do well and live happily. How far human virtue is capable of accomplishing such results will be shown in the next Part.

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APPENDIX.

The doctrines tliat I have taught in this Part in re- gard to the right rule or conduct of life, are not so ai - ranged that they can be taken in at a glance, but are demonstrated in a soniewliat scattered or irregular order, according as each Proposition seemed to How out of the one that preceded it. I propose, therefore, to collect them together here and rearrange the whole under separate Heads.

Head I. — All onr efforts or desiies follow from the necessity of onr nature in such a way that the}^ can either be understood by this alone as their proximate cause, or in so far as we are a part of natni'e, Avhich ])art cannot by itself and indei)endently of other in- dividual parts be adequately conceived.

Head II. — The desires which follow from our na- ture in such a way that they can be understood by that alone, are those which are referred to the sonl. in so far as it is conceived as constituted by adequate ideas. The other desires, however, are not referred to the soul save in so far as it conceives things inade- (piately, and the force and increment of these cannot l)e dehned or measured by our human power, but by the power of external things. On this account the former are properly called actions^ and the latter are called and whilst the former always indi-

<*ate our power, the latter, on the contrary, declare our impotency and imperfect knowledge.

Head III. — Our actions, that is to say, those de- 19

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sires wlikli are defined by the power or reason of man, are always good ; the others may be either good or bad.

Head TV. — It is therefoi-e of the highest utility, in life that we perfect onr understanding or reason as much as possible ; and in this alone consists the sn preme felicity or blessedness of man ; for blessedness is nothing else than that tranquillity of soul Avhicli arises from the intuitive knowledge of God. iS^ow, to perfect onr understanding is nothing else than to ap- prehend God, and the attributes and acts of God which follow from the necessity of the Divine ISTature. Wherefore the highest end and aim of the man whom reason guides, his supreme desire, that by which he studies to regulate all other desires, is the desire he feels to adequately conceive and know himself and all things else that can fall under his intelligence.

Head Y. — There is, therefore, no rational life with- out intelligence, and things are only r/ood in so far as they aid man to enjoy that Soul-Life {Mentis mta) which is defined as understanding. Those things, on the contrary, which prevent man from perfecting his understanding and enjoying this rational life, and those only, do I call had.

Head YI. — But as all the things of Avhich man is himself the efficient cause are necessarily good, it fol- lows that nothing of evil can happen to him save from external causes, that is, in so far as he is a t)art of entire nature, Avhose laws human nature must obey, and to whose plan or order it must accommo- date itself in almost an infinity of ways.

. Head Yll. — It is impossible that man should not be a part of nature and follow its common order ; but if he lives among such individuals as agree with his human nature, his power of action is thereby favored

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and increased ; and, on the contrary, if he lives among such as in nowise agree with his nature, he will not be able without great change in himself to accommodate himself to them.

Head YIII. — Whatever there is in the nature of things which we judge to be bad, or whicli can pre- vent ns from existing and enjoying a rational life, it is allowable for us to remove in the way that seems to ns the safest and surest ; and, on the contrary, whatever there is which we judge to be good or use- ful to the preservation of our being and our enjoy- ment of a rational life, we have the right to take and to use in any way for those ends. By the su- preme law of nature {i.e. natural right) every one is allowed to do absolutely whatsoever he judges will be of use to himself.

Head IX. — Xothing can agree more with the na- ture of any individual thing than other individuals of the same species ; therefore (by Head 7) nothing can be more useful to man for the preservation of his own being and his enjoyment of a rational life than the man whose life is guided by reason. Further, as among individual things we know^ of none that is more excellent or preferable to a reasonable man, so, in nothing can man better show how much genius and ability are worth, than in educating men in such a way that they will, in particular, come at length to live under the dominion of reason.

Head X. — In so far as men are actuated by the passions of envy or hate for one another, in so far ar(i they contrary or opposed to one another ; and on that account they are then more to be feared as they have more power than the other individuals of nature.

Head XI. — The evil inclinations and passions of

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men are not vanquished by force, but by love and generosity.

Head XII. — It is especially nsefnl to men to asso- ciate together in customary ways, and to bind them- selves to one another by mutual agreements, whereby many are as it were made one ; and absolutely to do whatever may be serviceable in promoting and main- taining friendly relations.

Head XIII. — But to do this skill and vigilance are requisite. For men are of different dispositions (those who live by the precepts of reason being few in number), yet, nevertheless, they are mostly envious and more inclined to vengeance than to mercy. A singular strength of mind is therefore re- quisite to enable a man to live among others consist- ently with his own ideas and convictions, to be master of himself, and not fall into the habits or exhibit the same passions as those with whom he associates. On the other hand, they who are always carping at their fellow-men, reproaching them for their vices rather than teaching virtue, and who would seek to crush out the bad, but know not how to encourage and strengthen the good in feeble souls, are only trouble- some to themselves as well as to others. AVhence some, through an excessively impatient spirit and false views of religion, have preferred to live among brutes rather than among men ; even as boys and young men unable to bear with patience the admoni- tion of parents enlist as soldiers, preferring the hard- ships of war and obedience to despotic military com- mands to the comforts of home if subject to parental reproof, enduring patiently any burdens imposed upon them if only they can be revenged on their pa- rents.

Head XIV. — Although men, therefore, mostly try

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to arrange things to their own liking, nevertheless many more advantages than evils accrue from associa- tion. Wherefore it is best to bear injuries and incon- veniences with patience and equanimity, and stu- diously endeavor to do whatever will serve to pro- mote concord and friendly relations among men.

Head XV. — The acts that beget concord among men are such as are referred to justice, equity, and honorable conduct. For men, besides their dislike of injustice, inequality, and unfairness, can with diffi- culty tolerate those who act basely, or who contemn and violate the accepted morals of society. To pro- mote love, however, all that relates to religion and piety is especially and necessarily to be regarded. On this point, mde Scholia 1 and 2 to Prop. 37, the Schol. to Prop. 46, and the Schol. to Prop. 73.

Head XVI. — Concord among men is moreover quite frequently produced by fear ; but then it is without confidence. Add to this, that fear arises from impotence of soul and is therefore not connected with the use of reason ; and the same may be said of commiseration or pity, though it may seem to be a sort of piety.

Head XVII. — Men are, besides, favorably in- fluenced by liberality, especially those who have not the means to procure the necessaries of life. But to render assistance to every needy person would far surpass the ability and might not be for the interest of any private individual ; for, indeed, the wealth of no one individual would be sufficiently abundant to relieve the wants of all the necessitous. Besides, the circle within which the power of one man can act is too limited for him to exercise his friendship for all. Wherefore the care of the poor, afflicted, and help- less, is mainly incumbent upon the community

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at large, and lias regard only to tlie general wel- fare.

Head XYIII. — In accepting favors, and in sli owing gratitude, our care must be quite different, — on whicli point mde Scliol. to Prop. 70 and Scliol. to Prop. 71.

Head XIX. — Meretricious love, in other words, mere sensuality, in whatever form it shows itself, and absolutely all love that owns any other cause than freedom of soul, is easily changed to hate, unless — which is worse — it be a kind of delirium, in which case it fosters discord rather than concord. Yide Coroll, to Prop. 31, Part III.

Head XX. — As regards marriage, it certainly ac- cords with reason if the desire for sexual union re- lates not solely to the body, but is accompanied also by the desire to have children and to rear and educate them wisely ; and further, if on the part of both — man and woman alike — the love is not of the body alone, but has as its principal cause freedom of soul.

Head XXI. — Adulation or flattery also begets concord, but it is through the base offence of servility, or perfldy ; for none are more taken with adulation than the proud or vain-glorious, who wish to be con- sidered flrst or above others, and yet are not so.

Head XXII. — Abjection or self-abasement has a false air of piety and religion ; and although humil- ity is opposed to pride or haughtiness, nevertheless the abject man is closely allied to the proud. Yide Schol. to Prop. 57.

Head XXIII, — Shame may also conduce to con- cord, but only in matters that cannot be concealed. And then, as shame is a species of sorrow, it has no relation to the use of reason.

Head XXIY. — The other forms of sorrow with which men are affected are directly opposed to jus-

PAKT IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE OF THE PASSIOXS. 295

tice, equity, honor, piety, and religion ; and although indignation has a semblance of justice, yet do the}^ live without law who judge the actions of others and of themselves undertake to enforce what they as- sume to be their own or other people’s rights.

Head XXV. — Modesty {modest la) ^ that is, the de- sire to please or to be agreeable to others, in so far as it is determined by reason, is referable to duty, re- spectfulness, or piety {pietas)^ as has been said in Schol. 1 to Prop. 37. But if the desire to please arises from an atfection, it is then a species of am- bition or selfish desire, whereby men under a false apiiearance of piety {i.e. of duty, respect, etc.), very often excite discord and sedition. For he who desires to assist or advise others in order that they with him- self may enjoy true happiness, is, above all, studious to conciliate their love, but never seeks to elicit their admiration for himself, nor to have his disciples or followers called by his name, and is jiarticularly soli- citous to give no cause for envy or ill-will. In public discussions he will be careful not to refer to the vices of men, and will speak siiaringly and cau- tiously of their weakness or impotence ; whilst, on the other hand, he will descant freely on their virtues or flowers, and of the way in which they may be used for their self-improvement, so that men, not through fear or aversion, but led solely by joyful emotions, may endeavor to live as far as possible according to the precepts of reason.

Head XXVI. — Except men, we know of no indi- viduals in nature with whom it is possible for us to share our mental enjoyments, or with whom we can be united by the ties of fellowship or the bonds of friendship or custom ; so that, except men, we are not required to preserve whatever things there are in

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nature without regard to our convenience, but, ac- cording to our various wants, may either pi-esei‘ve, destroy, or adapt them to our necessities in whatso- (‘ver way we judge best.

Head XXVII. — The use for wliicli we take things external to ourselves, to say nothing of the expe- rience and knowledge we acquire of them from ob- servation of their nature and the changes of form they are made to undergo, has reference principally to the preservation of our bodies ; and for this rea- son the things that are most useful to us are those which sustain and nourish the body so that all its parts are in proper condition to discharge their func- tions. For the more apt the body is to be affected in many Avays, and in turn to affect external bodies in many Avays, the better fitted is the soul for thought {mde Props. 38 and 39). But indeed there seem to be very feAV in this more apt or perfect condition in nature. Wherefore a great variety of aliments of different natures are required for the necessary nourishment of the body ; for the human body is composed of many parts of diverse natures, Avhich require con- tinual supplies of various aliments in order that the body as a Avhole, as AA'ell as all its jiarts, may be made apt for all that can possibly folloAv from its nature or constitution, and, consequently, that the soul also may be equally apt to form a great number of con- ceptions.

Head XXVIII. — The ability of indiAuduals, Iioav- ever, AA^ould scarcely suffice to supply all these needs did not men mutually assist each other. But money has become the compendious representative and pro- curer of almost everything in the Avorld, and the idea of it so completely engrosses the thoughts of the vulgar that they can hardly imagine any kind of

PAKT IV. — SLAVERY — FORCE OF THE PASSIONS. 297

pleasure or enjoyment wit lion fc associating with it the idea of money as its cause.

Head XXIX. — But this is not a vice in those who from poverty covet money to procure the necessities of life, but only in those who devote themselves to the pursuit of wealth for the sake of making an os- tentatious show. The bodies of all alike require daily nourishment, but the niggardly parsimonious often starve themselves, for they think that what they spend in maintaining their bodies is so much wasted or lost. But they who know the right use of money, and who can moderate their wants according to their means, live content witli little.

Head XXX. — Since, then, those things are good that support the body and its parts in a state to per- form their functions, and as joy or pleasure consists in aiding and increasing the powers of man, consti- tuted as he is of body and soul, therefore all things that give him joy or pleasure are good (if not in excess). But on the other hand, as the things of na- ture do not act with the end or purpose of giving us pleasure, nor are their powers of action regulated by our utility, and, hnally, as joy or pleasure is gene- rally referred to some one particular part of the body, therefore (unless reason and watchfulness preside) most of the emotions of joy or pleasure, and conse- quently the desires they engender, may become ex- cessive. Add to this, that although we are at first agreeably affected by these emotions, yet subse- quently they may not always so affect us or be re- garded with equal pleasure. Yide Schol. to Prop. 44, and Schol. to Prop. 60.

Head XXXI. — Superstition, on the contraiy, would persuade us that what brings us sorrow or j^ain is good, and what brings us joy or pleasure is evil. But

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as I have already said {^ide Scliol. to Prop. 45), none but an envious being could delight in our helpless- ness and suffering. For the greater the joy with which we are affected the higher is the perfection to which we attain, and consequently the more do we participate in the Divine Nature ; nor can joy ever be evil so long as it is moderated to our use by reason, lie, on the contrary, who is impelled by fear to do good that he may escape evil, is not led by reason. \dde Prop. 63.

Head XXXII. — But human power is exceedingly limited, and is infinitely surpassed by the power of external causes ; and hence it is that we have no ab- solute power of adapting to our use things that are external to ourselves. Nevertheless, whatever be- falls us contrary to what reason pronounces useful to us, we bear with equanimity, if we are but con- scious that we have done our duty, that our power did not extend so far as to enable us to escape what has happened, and that we are a part of nature at large, whose order we obey. And understanding this much clearly and distinctly, that part of our being Avhich is defined as intelligence or understanding, in other words, our higher nature, fully acquiesces and endeavors to persevere in such acquiescence. For, in so far as we understand, we desire that only which is necessary, and can but acquiesce absolutely in that which is true ; so that, in so far as we rightly under- stand, so far does the effort of the better and higher part of our nature accord with the order of nature at large.

EXD OF THE FOUETII PART.

v-

wV'

FIFTH PART.

OE MAX’S EEEEDOM, OE THE POWEE OE THE LXDEESTAXHIXG.

PREFACE.

I COME at last to that other part of Ethics which relates to the mode or course of life that leads to Free- dom. In this Part, therefore, I shall speak of the Power of the Understanding, and show what reason of itself can do in respect of the passions, and, after- wards, wherein freedom of the soul or beatitude con- sists. We shall then see how much the wise excel the ignorant. In what way, however, the understanding or reason is to be perfected, and how the body is to be cared for so that it may be most capable of perform- ing its functions, does not belong to my subject, the former pertaining more properly to Logic, and the latter to Medicine. Here, therefore, as I have said, I shall treat of the power of the understanding, or of reason alone, and, above all, shall show the nature and extent of the empire it possesses to restrain and moderate the passions ; for that we have no absolute

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dominion over these has been already demonstrated. The Stoics, indeed, held that our passions were en- tirely dependent upon our will^ and that we could govern or control them absolutely, ^ut experience loudly prmt.rnf^iptpr] tbmr priTiripipg, ■-a4»4--thAy were conWame^JijX^mit -that it required long^abit and careful ^tudy to restrain and moderate them ; a truth which (if I remember~liorrect[Yrtliey~F^Vl^ tn _il]ng- t7-ate~t)yddm example of two dogs, — one, a house or \vatch-dog, and the other a hunting dog, which by careful training were at length so changed in charac- ter that the watch-dog became a hunter, whilst, on the other hand, the hunting dog, which had been accus- tomed to the chase, ceased to pursue game. These views of the Stoics .arajiot_a_lit tie favored by Des- cartes. For he thinks that the mind or soul is-Bspe- cially united witlL_a certain part of the brain called the pineal gland, by meajis of which-iihe..sQHlJ_s m sensible of every motion that is excited in the b^dy amTperceives external objects ; ahimiatThe soul by willing alone can effect numberless movements of this gland. This gland, moreover, he thinks, is sus- pended in the middle of the brain in such a way that it can be x)ut in motion by the slightest movements of the animal spirits, and is so hung or suspended that it can be moved in as many different ways as there are different ways in which the animal spirits impinge upon it, and that as many various impressions are made upon it as there are various external objects that propel the animal spirits towards it ; whence it results that if this gland has communicated to it by the will of the soul a motion similar to that which it had before received when acted upon b}^- the animal spirits impelled towards it, then this gland itself pro- pels and determines the animal spirits in the same

PT. V. — FREEDOM — POWER OF THE U]N^DERSTAXDIXG. 301

manner as they had before been repelled when tliey impinged upon it similarly suspended. He tliought, besides, that every volition of the soul is by nature united with a certain movement of this pineal gland. For example, if any one loills to look at a distant ob- ject, this icill would have the effect to dilate the pupil of his eye ; but if he merely thought to dilate the pupil and nothing more, that effect would not be pro- duced by the volition, because nature has not united that motion of the pineal gland which serves to im- pel the spirits towards the optic nerve for the purpose of dilating or contracting the pupil of the eye with the will of merely dilating or contracting it and no- thing more, but has united it with the will to look at objects distant or near. Finally, Descartes is of the opinion that although each particular motion of the pineal gland seems to be connected by nature from the beginning of our lives with some particnlar thought, still these motions may by force of habit be joined with other thoughts ; and this is what he (‘itdeavors to establish in his treatise on the Passions of the Soul, Article 50, Part I. He concludes from this, that there is no soul so imbecile that it cannot, if well directed, acquire absolute control over its j^as- sions. For the passions, according to his definition of them, are jperceptions^ sensations^ or commotions of the sold, ichicli are specialty referred to it^ and. produced^ maintained^ and strengthened hy certain movements of the spirits. {Yicle Art. 27, Part I., Passiones Animte.) Xow, since if any one could unite with his volitions such or such a movement of the pineal gland, and consequently of the spirits, and if the determination of our will depends entirely upon our own power, then our will being surely and firmly fixed and the desired actions of our life and the de-

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termination and movement of onr passions being joined to it, it would follow that we could acquire an absolute empire over our passions. Such (in so far as I can understand him) is the opinion of this dis- tinguished man ; and if it had been less ingenious, less subtile, I must confess that I could scarcely have believed that it emanated from him. I cannot, in- deed, sufficiently express my wonder that this great Philosopher, who has so broadly and firmly laid down r|^dhe rule that nothing is to be inferred except from self-evident truths, and nothing to be affirmed save that which is clearly and distinctly understood or perceived, and who has so often reprehended the scho- lastics for having wished or attempted to explain ob- scure things by occult qualities — that he, I say, should assume^aji^jiypothesis more occult than the most occult quality. What, I ask, does he under- stand by the union of soul and body ? What clear and distinct conception has he of thought most closely united with even the smallest particle of any quanti- tative thing ? I would wish, indeed, that he had explained this union by it^-pmximate cause. But he had conceived the soul ps sp^ distinct from the body that he could neitlier assigii any p articular ca^e for thjs union nor for th^-soidkitself,-^ but was necessarily cong^rained^ have recqjxaa-tQ.lhe cause of the \mi- t]-)at isj I would also^\ush to

know how many degrees of motion the soul can give to this pineal gland, and with what degree of force it can hold it suspended? For I know not whether this gland moves about more quickly or more slowly when acted upon by the soul than by the animal spirits, and whether the movements of the passions which are so closely connected with our decisions can- not be dissevered from them by corporeal causes, so

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that it might follow that although the soul had tirmly resolved to meet a certain danger and with this decision had joined the motion producing courage, nevertheless, in presence of the danger the gland might not be so suspended tliat the soul could think of nothing but llight. And, indeed, as there is no ratio given between the will and motion, so there can be no comparison made between the power or force of* the soul and that of the body, and consequently the power of the one can in nowise be determined by the power of the other. Add to this, that neither is the ])ineal gland ascertained to be so situated in the mid- dle ot* the brain that it can be easily acted upon and moved in so many different ways, nor are all the nerves produced or extended to the cavities of the brain.

I omit saying anything in reference to the asser- tions of Descartes as regards the will and its freedom, inasmuch as I have more than sufficiently shown the error of his views on this subject. Therefore, inas- much as the power of the soul, as I have shown, is defined by the understanding alone, the remedies against the affections or passions which all experience, but which, as I believe, all do not accurately observe nor distinctly understand, are only to be determined by the knowledge of the soul ; and it is from this that we shall deduce whatsoever bears upon man’s true hapi)iness or beatitude.

AXIOMS.

I. If two contrary actions are excited in the same subject, a change must necessarily take j)lace in one or both of them, until they cease to be contrary.

II. The power of an effect is defined by the power

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of its cause, in so far as the essence of an effect is explained or deffned by the essence of its cause.

This Axiom is evident from Prop. 7, Part III.

PROPOSITIONS.

PROP. I. — According as the thoughts and ideas , of things are ordered and concatenated in the soul, in precisely the same way are tlie affections or images of things ordered and concatenated in the body.

Demoxstk. — The order and connection of ideas is the same (by Prop. 7, Part II.) as the order and con- nection of things ; and, rice versa, the order and con- nection of things is the same as the order and connec- tion of ideas (by Corolls, to Props. G and 7, Part II.). Wherefore, just as the order and connection of ideas in the soul corresponds with the order and connection of the affections of the body (by Prop. 18, Part II.), so, vice versa (by Prop. 2, Part III.), the order and connection of the affections of the body follow ac- cording as the thoughts and ideas of things are or- dered and concatenated in the soul. q. e. d.

PROP. II. — If we disconnect an affection or passion of the soul from the thought of its external cause, and associate other thoughts with it, then will Love or Hate toAvards the external cause, as Avell as the ffuctuations of soul that arise from these affections, dis- appear.

Demoxstr. — For that Avhich constitutes the form or essence of Love or Hate is Joy or Sorrow associ-

PT. V.— FREEDOM — POWER OF THE UNDERSTA]N^DI]S'G. 305

atecl with the idea of an external canse (by 6 and 7 Def. Pass.). If, therefore, this idea be taken away, the form of Love or Hate is at the same time abro- gated, and thns tbe emotions or passions that arise from them are destroyed or disappear, q. e. d.

PHOP. III. — An affection wliicli is a passion ceases to be a passion as soon as we form a clear and distinct idea of it.

Hemoxstr. — An affection which is a passion, is a confused idea (by Gen. Def. Pass.). If, therefore, we form to ourselves a clear and distinct idea of this affection, this clear idea of it, in so far as referred to the soul alone, is not distinguished from the affection itself save by reason (by Props. 22 and 21, and its SclioL, Part II.), and so (by Pro}). 3, Part III.) it ceases to be a passion, q. e. d.

Coroll. — A passion, therefore, is so much the more under onr control and the soul suffers less from it the better it is understood by us.

PROP. IV. — There is no affection of the body of which we cannot form some clear and distinct conception.

Demoxstr. — That which is common to all cannot ])e conceived otherwise than adequately (by Prop. 38, Part II.) ; so that (by Pro}). 12 and Lemma 2 whicli follow^s the Schol. to Prop. 13, Part II.) there is no affection of the body of which we cannot form some clear and distinct conception, q. e. d.

Coroll. — Hence it follows that there is no passion of wdiich we cannot form some clear and distinct con- ception. For a passion is the idea of an affection of the body (by Gen. Def. Pass.), and for that reason 20

‘>06 SPINOZA’S ETHICS.

(by preceding Prop.) it must involve some clear and distinct conception of the affection.

SciiOL. — Since there is nothing from which some effect does not follow (by Prop. 36, Part I.), and since whatever follows from an idea which is adequate in us, is clearly and distinctly understood (by Prop. 40, Part II.), it results from this that every one has the power of clearly and distinctly understanding him- self and his affections, if not absolutely, yet partially ; and consequently of suffering less from his affections. The x)rincipal thing, therefore, that we should labor to accomplish is that each of us, as far as possible, should clearly and distinctly understand his affec- tions, so that the mind ma}" be determined by the affection to think of those things which it clearly and distinctly perceives in it and in which it fully acqui- esces. In this way will the affection itself be separ- ated from thoughts of an external cause and be con- - — nected with true thoughts ; and then it will come to pass that not only Love, Hate, etc., Avill disappear (by Prop. 2), but that the appetite or desire Avhich usually arises from an affection shall not be excessive (by Prop. 61, Part IV.). For it is particularly to be noted that it is from one and the same appetite or desire that man is said to act as AA^ell as to suffer. For example : ^ye shoAA'ed that human nature Avas so constituted that eA^ery one desired that others should live according to his taste or inclination {?)ide Schol. to Prop. 31, Part III.) ; noAv this desire in him AAdio is not guided by reason is a passion AAdiich is called Ambition, and does not differ much from Arrogance (sttperbia) ; A\diilst, on the contrary, in the man AA^ho lAes by the dictates of reason it is an action or Aurtue Avhich is called Piety or Duty {pietas) {tide Schol. 1 to Prop. 37, Part Ho, and the second Demonstr. of

VT. V.— FREEDOM— POWER OF THE UXDEr.STANDIXG. 3 .7

same Prop.). And by tljis Ave see that all appetites or desires are passions onl}" in so far as they arise from inadequate ideas ; bnt that AA'hen they are excited or produced by adequate ideas they are then ranked among the Aortnes. For all the desires AAdiereby AA^e are determined to do anything may arise from ad- equate as Avell as from inadequate ideas {vide Prop. o9, Part IV.). And therefore (to return from my digression) there is nothing AAuthin our poAA^er or that AA'e can conceiA^e of more excellent as a remedy for- excessAe passions than that AAdiich consists in a true knoAAdedge of their nature, since, indeed, there is nO' other poAA-er of the soul than that of tbinking and forming adequate ideas, as AA^e have shoAvn in another place {vide Prop. 3, Part III.).

I^KOP. Y. — The affection or i)assion Avliich aa c feel for a thing simply by itself, and AA liich Ave do not imagine as either necessary, pos- sible, or contingent, is, other things being equal, the strongest of all.

Deaioxstr. — Onr passion for a thing Avhich AA^e im- agine to be free is greater than for a thing Ave imagine to be necessary (by Proj). 49, Part III.), and conse- quently it is still greater than for a thing Ave imagine to be possible or contingent (by Prop. 11, Part IV.).. But to imagine a thing as free can be nothing else than to imagine it simply by itself, Avhilst Ave are ignorant of the causes Avhich determined it to action (as shoAAm in Schol. to Prop. 3o, Part II.). VTiere- fore our passion for a thing Avhich Ave imagine simply by itself, is, other things being equal, greater than for a possible or contingent thing, and consequent!}' is the strongest of all passions, q. e. d.

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PKOP. YT. — In SO far as the soul miderstands tliat all things are necessary, in so hir has it greater power over the passions, or suffers less from them.

De^eoxstPv. — The soul understands that all things are necessaiy (by Prop. 29, Part I.), and that they are determined to existence and action by an infinity of causes succeeding each other and connected to- gether (by Prop. 28, Part 1.), and, in consequence (by preceding Prop.), it suffers less from passions that proceed from necessary causes (by Prop. 49,"^ Part III.), or is less powerfully affected by them. q. e. d.

SciiOL. — The more that this knowledge of the ne- cessity of all things is applied to particular things which we imagine most distinctly and vividly, the greater is the power of the soul over the emotions or passions felt in respect of them ; and this is also con- firmed by exiierience, — for ^ve see that the sorrow felt for the loss of something good is mitigated so soon as he who suffers the loss considers that there was no possibility of preserving the thing lost. So, also, do we see that no one feels pity for an infant because it cannot speak, or walk, or reason, or that it has to pass so many years of its life in almost a state of ignorance. But if the greater part of mankind were born adults, and only one here and there was born an infant, then an infant would be pitied by everybody ; because then infancy would not appear to be a natural and necessary condition, but would be considered a vice or fault of nature. And to this many other illustra- tions might be added.

* The Edition of 1677, and Bruder’s Edition, 1843, here cite Prop. 48, hut Prop. 49 seems intended. — Tr.

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PROP. YII. — Tlie affections or i)assions tliat proceed from or are excited by reason, if regard is bad to time, are more powerful than those referred to particular things which are contemplated as absent.

Demoxstr. — AVe do not contemplate a thing as ab- sent by the same atfection as that by which we ima- gine it, but from this : that the body is affected b}^ some other affection which excludes the existence of the thing as j) resent (by Prop. 17, Part II.). Where- fore the affection that is referred to a thing contem- plated as absent is not of such a nature as surpasses the other actions and powers of man (on which point vide Prop. 6, Part TV.), but, on the contrary, its nature is such that it can in some manner be re- strained by those affections which exclude the exist- ence of its external cause (by Prop. 9, Part lY.). The affection, however, that proceeds from reason is ne- cessarily referred to the common properties of things {vide Def. of Reason in Schol. 2 to Prop. 40, Part II.), which we always contemplate as present (for there is nothing that can exclude their present existence) and which we always imagine in the same manner (by Prop. 38, Part II.). Wherefore such an affection re- mains always the same, and consequently (by Ax. 1) affections that are contrary or opposed to it and not nourished or strengthened by their external causes, must more and more accommodate themselves to it until they cease to be in opposition, and in so far the affections or passions that proceed from reason are more powerful, etc. q. e. d.

PROP. — When a number of causes simul-

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taneoiisly concur to excite any one passion, it is greater.

Demonstp. — A great number of causes operating together are more powerful than a few (by Prop. 7, Part III.), and consequently (by Prop. 5, Part IT.) Avhen any one passion is simultaneously excited by a great number of causes, it is greater, q. e. d.

ScnoL. — This Proposition is made plain by Axiom 2.

PROP. IX. — A passion wliicli is referred to many different causes contemplated by the soul simultaneously with the passion itself, is less noxious, and Ave suffer less from it, and are therefore less affected by it than Ave AA oiild be by another equally poAA erfnl passion referred to a single cause, or to a smaller number of causes.

Deaionstr. — A passion is only hurtful in so far as it preA^ents the soul from thinking (by Props. 26 and 27, Part lY.). Consequently the passion AAdiich deter- mines the soul to contemplate a great number of objects at the same time is less noxious than another equally strong ^^assion Avliich by its sole force so holds or restricts the soul to the contemjDlation of only one or a feAA" objects that it cannot think of any others. This in the first place. Again, since the essence of the soul, that is (by Prop. 7, Part III.)? its power, (consists solely in thought, therefore (by Prop. 11, Part III.) the soul suffers less from a passion by which it is determined to contemplate a great num- ber of objects simultaneously, than it does from an (equally poAverful passion AAdiich holds it to the con-

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templation of only one object, or a small number of objects. Tills in the second place. Lastly, a passion (by Prop. 48, Part III.) that is referred to many ex- ternal causes must, likewise, in respect of each one of these causes separately, affect us less. q. e. d.

PROP. X. — So long as we are not agitated by passions that are contrary to onr nature, so long have we the power of ordering and concatenating the affections of the body ac- cording to the order of the understanding.

Demoxstr. — Passions that are contrary to our na- ture, that is (by Prop. 30, Part lY.), which are bad, are bad in so far as they are an impediment to the soul’s understanding (by Prop. 27, Part lY.). So long, therefore, as we are not agitated by passions contrary to our nature, so long is the power of th^ soul by which it seeks to understand things (by Prop. 26, Part lY.) not impeded ; and so long, therefore, has it the power of forming clear and distinct ideas, and of deducing others from them in succession {vidt Schol. 2, Prop. 40, and Schol. Prop. 47, Part II.) ; and, consequently (by Prop. 1), so long has it the power of ordering and concatenating tlie affections of the body according to the order of the understanding. Q. E. n.

ScnoL. — This power of rightly ordering and con- catenating our bodily affections enables us to resist being easily influenced by bad passions. For (by Prop. 7) a greater force is requisite to restrain or coerce affections concatenated according to the order of the understanding or intellect, than for those that are vague and uncertain. The best that we can do,

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therefore, so long as we have not a perfect knowledge of onr passions, is to conceive a way of living accord- ing to right reason, to adopt certain rules for our conduct, commit them to memory, and apply them continually to those particular cases which we fre- quently meet with in the course of our lives, so that, our imagination being profoundly affected by them, we shall always have them present in our minds. For example, suppose we have laid it down among the rules for the conduct of life {vide Prop. 46 and its SchoL, Part lY.), that Hate is to be vanquished by Love or Generosity, and not paid back by recipro- cated Hate. Xow if we would have this precept of reason always present in our minds when there is use for it, we should often think of and meditate upon those wrongs or injuries that are common among men, and of the best way of averting them by generosity ; so that the image of an injury or injustice will be associated in our imagination with this precept of reason, and then we shall always have it present in our minds (by Prop. 18, Part II.) whenever an injury is done to us. And if we also have in view what is truly useful and good to us, and think of the benefits that flow from social life and mutual friendship, and Avhat perfect peace of mind ensues from living rightly, in conformity with reason (b3^ Prop. 62, Part lY.), — and further, that men, like all other beings, act by the necessity of their nature, then will the hate which usually arises from an injuiy done, take the slightest hold upon our imagination and be the most easih- overcome ; or should the Anger that arises from great injuries be not so easily subdued, it will nevertheless be overcome, although not without a struggle or vacil- lation of mind, but for a much shorter sx)ace of time than if we had not made this j^recept the subject of

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our previous meditations, as is evident by Proposi- tions 6, 7, and 8.

And to put aside or overcome Fear by Courage the saaie course of meditation must be pursued : — we must often imagine and ]Dass in review the common dangers of life, and think of how they may best be avoided or overcome by presence of mind and forti- tude. But it is to be noted here, that in ordering our thoughts and imaginations we are always to be obser- vant of what there is of good in everything (by Coroll, to Prop. 63, Part lY., and Prop. 59, Part III.), so that we may always be determined to action by an emotion or passion of joy. For examjAe : if any one is cognizant that he is too eager for glory or fame, he should think of the right use of it, for what object or end it is to be pursued, and by what means it may be acquired ; but he should not think of its abuse, of its vanity, of the fickleness of mankind, or of any such thing as morbidly minded men think of ; for these are the thoughts with wliicli the over-ambi- tious are greatly troubled when they despair of achieving the honor to which they aspire, and who, Avhilst wishing to appear wise, only show their irrita- bility. It is certain that they are often the most desi- rous of fame who declaim most loudly against its abuse and denounce the vanities of the world. Nor, indeed, is this peculiar to the ambitious, but is com- mon to all whom fortune does not favor and Avho are of feeble spirit. For the covetous poor man is for ever speaking of the abuses of wealth and the vices of the rich, and in so doing he does but torment himself and shows plainly that he is not only impatient at his own poverty, biit also discontented at the fortune of others. So, also, he who is coldly received by his mistress thinks of nothing but the inconstancy, deceitfulness.

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and other vices so often imputed to women — all of which, however, is forgotten as soon as he is again received with favor. He, therefore, who would study to moderate his passions and appetites solely through love of freedom, endeavors, as much as possible, to become acquainted with the virtues and their causes, and to fill his soul with the joy that arises from true knowledge of them ; and on the contrary, he con- templates the vices of mankind as little as possible, delights not in traducing them, and is not deceived by any false appearance of freedom. Whoever diligently observes and practises these jirecepts (and they are not difficult) will in a short space of time be able to direct the most of his actions according to the com- mands of reason.

PROP. XI. — The greater the number of things to which an image is referred, the more frequently and vividly does it occupy the soul.

Hemoxstr. — For the more things an image or an affection is referred to, the greater will be the number of causes or things that will excite and maintain it ; all of which things the soul (by hyiDothesis) contem- jilates simultaneously with the image or affection it- self ; and therefore is the image or affection more fre- quent and vivid (by Prop. 8.), and the more does it occupy the soul. Q. e. d.

PROP. XII. — We connect images of things more easily with images referred to things we clearly and distinctly understand, than we do with others.

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Demonstr. — The things we clearly and distinctly understand are either the coinmon properties of things, or are deduced from these properties {vk7e Def. of Reason in Schol. 2, Prop. 40, Part II.), and consequently (by preceding Prop.) they are oftener excited in us than others are. And hence it is that we contemplate such things more readily and simul- taneously with things clearly and distinctly under- stood than with others ; and consequently (by Prop. 18, Part II.) we associate them more easily with these than with others. Q. e. d.

PROP. XIII. — The greater the iiiiinber of images with which any particular image is associated, the more vivid is it.

Demonstr. — For the greater the number of images with Avliich it is associated, so (by Prop. 18, Part II.) the more numerous will be the causes by which it may be excited, q. e. d.

PROP. XIY. — The soul is capable of referring all the affections of the body, or images of things, to the idea of Ood.

Demonstr. — There is no affection of the body of which the soul cannot form a clear and distimd con- ception (by Prop. 4), and so it is cajiable (by Pro]). 15, Part I.) of referring all to the idea of God. q. e. d.

PROP. XV. — He Avho clearly and distinctly un- derstands himself and his affections loves Grod, and this by so much the more the more he understands himself and his affections.

Demonstr. — He who clearly and distinctly under-

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stands liimself and liis affections, rejoices (by Prop. 53, Part III.), and Ids joy is in concomitance with tlie idea of God (by preceding Prop.). Consequently he loves God (by 6 Del Pass.) ; and (for the same rea- son) loves so much the more the more he understands himself and his affections. Q. E. d.

PKOP. XYI. — Love towards God should chiefly occupy the soul.

Demonstk. — For this love is joined to all the affec- tions of the body (by Prop. 14), by all of which it is fostered (by Prop. 15). Therefore (by Prop. 11) should it chiefly occupy the soul. Q. e. d.

PKOP. XYII. — God is exempt from all pas- sions ; neither is God affected by any emo- tion of joy or sorroAV.

Demonste. — All ideas in so far as they are referred to God are true (by Prop. 82, Part II.), that is (by Del 4, Part II.), they are adequate ; consequently (by Gen. Del Pass.) God is Avithout passions. Again, God can neither j^ass from a greater to a less, nor from a less to a greater state of perfection (by Coroll. 2, Prop. 20, Part I.), and therefore (by 2 and 3 Defs. Pass.) can be affected by no joy nor soitoaa". q. e. n.

CoEOLL. — God cannot properly be said to loA^e any one, nor to hate any one. For God (by preceding Prop.) is neither affected by joy nor sorrow, and con- sequently (by 6 and 7 Defs. Pass.) can neither loA^e nor hate any one.

PROP. XYIII.— Xo one can hate God. Demonste. — The idea of God which is in us, is ade-

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qnate and perfect (by Props. 46 and 47, Part II.) ; in so far therefore as we contemplate God, in so far do we act (by Prop. 3, Part III.) ; and consequently (by Prop. 59, Part III.) there can be no soitoav concomi- tant Avith the idea of God ; that is (by 7 Del Pass.), no one can hate God. Q. e. d.

Coroll. — LoA^e towards God cannot be changed into hate.

SciioL. — It may be objected, liOAA^eA’er, that as Ave nnderstand God to be the cause of all things, so must we also consider God as the cause of our soitoaa^s. But to this I reply, that in so far as Ave nnderstand the cause of soitoaa^, in so far (by Prop. 3) does sor- row cease to be a passion ; that is (by Prop. 59, Part III.), in so far does it cease to be soitoaa^ ; so that in so far as AA^e understand God to be the cause of our sorroAv, in so far should Ave rejoice.

PKOP. XIX. — He AA ho Ioa es God cannot seek to liaA e God Ioa e him in return.

Deaioxstr. — If man did seek for such return of loA^e, he AA^onld thereby desire (by Coroll, to Prop. 17) that God, AAdiom he loA^es, should not be God ; and consequently (by Prop. 19, Part III.) he AA^onld desire to be grieved, which (by Prop. 28, Part III.) is ab- surd. Wherefore he aaIio loA^es God, etc. q. e. d.

PROP. XX. — This Ioa e Ioaa ards God cannot be sullied by any feeling of eiiA y or of jeal- onsy, but is fostered AAithin ns so mncli the more as the nnmber is greater of men Avhom Ave imagine to be bound to God by the same ties of loxe,

Deaioxstr. — This loA^e toAA^ards God is the summiun

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honuin^ the highest good that man guided by tlie dic- tates of reason can desire (by Prop. 28, Part IV.) ; and it is common to all mankind (by Prop. 36, Part IV.), and we can desire that all should alike enjoy it (by Prop. 37, Part IV.) ; consequently (by 23 I)ef. Pass.) it cannot be defiled by any passion of envy or jeal- ous}^ (b}^ Prop. 18, this Part, and the Def. of Jealousy in Schol. to Prop. 3o, Part III.) ; on the contrary (by Prop. 31, Part III.), it is cherished all the more the greater the number of men whom we imagine to enjoy or participate in it. q. e. d.

SciiOL. — We could in like manner show that there is no jiassion directl^^ opposed to this love of God, or that can destroy it ; and hence we may conclude that this love towards God is the most constant of all our emotions, and in so far as it is referred to the body that it can only be destroyed with the body itself. As to the nature of this love, in so far as it is referred to the soul alone, we shall see further on.

In preceding Propositions I have embraced all the remedies against excessive passions, or all such as the soul, considered in itself alone, can effect against them ; from which it apx)ears that the power of the soul over the passions consists : 1. In knowledge of the passions themselves {mde Schol. to Prop. 4). 2.

In the separation of a passion from the knowledge of its external cause, which we imagine confusedly {vide Prop. 2 and its Schol. and ProjD. 4). 3. In the time wherein passions referred to things we understand surpass those that are referred to things which we conceive in a confused or imperfect manner {vide Prop. 7). 4. In the multiplicity of causes whereb}’" those passions which are referred to the common pro- perties of things, or to God, are fostered {vide Props.

9 and 11). 5. Lastly, in the order in which the soul

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can arrange and concatenate its passions with one another {vide Schol. to Prop. 10, and Props. 12, 13, and 14).

But that this power of the sonl over its passions may be better understood, it is important to observe tliat the affections or passions are by ns called great or powerful when, comparing the passions of one man with those of another, we perceive that one is more powerfully affected by tlie same passion than another ; or when, comparing the passions of one and the same man, we hnd that he is moved or affected more powerfully by some one passion than by an- other. For (by Prop, o, Part IV.) the power of each affection is defined by the x^ower of its external cause as comx^ared with our own x^ower. But the x^ower of the soul is defined by its knowledge alone ; and its impotence or x^^^ssion, is defined by its x^rivation of knowledge alone ; that is, by what is called its inade- quate ideas. AVhence it follows that that soul suffers most which is x^i'incixmlly constituted of inadequate ideas ; for such a soul is indeed distinguished rather by what it suffers than by what it effects ; whilst, on the contrary, that soul acts the most which is the most largely constituted of adequate ideas. Such a soul, although it may contain as many inadequate ideas as the former, is nevertheless distinguished more by the ideas upon which human virtue or power dex^end than by those that argue human imx^otency. It is further to be observed, that mental anxieties {cer/ritudo) and distresses {infort unia) mainly have their origin in excessive love of things that are sub- ject to many vicissitudes, and of the durable posses- sion of which we can never be assured. For no one is solicitous or anxious about a thing unless he loves it, nor do susxncions, enmities, injuries, etc., arise save

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from love of tilings which no one can assuredly and truly possess. From all this we readily conceive what power clear and distinct knowledge, and especially that third kind of knowledge (of which see Schol. to Prop. 47, Part II.) whose foundation is knowledge of God, can have over the affections in so far as they are l^assions ; for if they are not absolutely destroyed or suppressed by it {mde Prop. 3 and Schol. to Prop. 4), they are at all events made to constitute the very smallest part of the soul. Moreover, this knowledge engenders love towards the Immutable and Eternal Being {vide Prop. 15), which love we may truly possess {vide Prop. 45, Part II.) ; and it cannot be sullied by any of the vices that pertain to common love, but may go on increasing more and more (by Prop. 15) and so come at length to chiefly occupy the soul (by Prop. 16) and extend its influence over it.

This completes all that I had designed to say re- specting this present life. For by attending to what is said at the beginning of this Scholium, and to our deflnitions of the soul and its passions, and, lastly, to Props. 1 and 3, Part III., it will be seen that I have, in a few words, embraced in this Scholium all the remedies for excessive passions. It is now time, there- fore, to pass on to the consideration of that which pertains to the duration of the soul without relation to the body.

PKOP. XXI. — The soul can imagine nothing, neither can it remember anything that is Xiast, save during the continuance of the body.

Demoxstk. — The mind or soul does not express the actual existence of the body, neither does it conceive

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tlie affections of the body as actual, save whilst the body endures (by Coroll, to Prop. 8, Part II.) ; conse- quently (by Prop. 26, Part II.) it cannot conceive any other body as actually existing, except whilst its own body exists. Hence it follows that the soul can neither imagine Hef. Imagination in Schol. to

Prop. 17, Part II.) nor remember anything that is past, except so long as its own body continues to ex- ist {vide Def. Memory in Schol. to Prop. 18, Part II.).

Q. E. D.

PROP. XXII. — There - is, however, necessarily in Grod an idea w Iiicli expresses the essence of this or that lininan body under the form of eternity.

Hemonstr. — God is not only the cause of the exist ence of this or that human body, but also of its es sence (by Prop. 2o, Part I.), which must therefore be / necessarily conceived by the very essence of God (by Ax. 4, Part I.), and this in virtue of a certain eternal necessity (by Prop. 16, Part I.) ; hence this concep- tion or idea must necessarily be in God (Prop. 3, Part II.). Q. e. d.

PROP. XXIII. — The hmnan soul cannot be absolutely destroyed along with the body ; something of it remains which is eternal.

Demonstr. — There is necessarily in God a concep- tion or idea which expresses the essence of the human body (by preceding Prop.), and this idea is necessarily something that pertains to the essence of the human soul (by Prop. 13, Part II.). But we do not assign to the human soul any duration that can be defined or 21

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measured by time, save in so far as it is expressed by the actual existence of the body, which may be explained b}^ duration and delined hy time ; in other words (by Coroll, to Prop. 8, Part II.), we do not assign duration to the soul save and except in so far as we assign duration to the body. Nevertheless, as there is necessarily a soniething which by a certain eternal necessity is conceived by the very essence of Clod (by X) receding Prop.), this something xiertaining to the essence of the soul will necessarily be eternal.

Q. E. D.

SciiOL. — This idea which ex^iresses the essence of the body under a form of eternity is, as we have said, a certain mode of thought which jiertains to the essence of the soul and is necessaril}- eternal. Still it is not possible that we could have any recollection of ourselves before the existence of our bodies, inasmuch as there is no vestige in our bodies of such a x^re-existence, nor can eternity be defined by time, nor be said to have any relation to time. Never- theless we feel and believe that we are eternal. For the soul no less truly perceives those things it con- ceives by the understanding than those it remembers. For demonstrations are the very eyes of the soul by which it x^erceives and observes things. Therefore, although we have no remembrance of our existence before the existence of the body, Ave nevertheless feel that our soul, in so far as it involves the essence of the body under a form or species of eternity, is eter- nal, and that this eternal existence cannot be defined l)y time or explained by duration. Our soul, there- fore, can only be said to have duration, and its exist- ence to be delined by a certain time, in so far as the actual existence of the body is involved ; and in so far only has it the poAver of determining the existence of

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things in time, and of conceiving them under the as- pect of duration.

PEOP. XXIV. — The more we understand indi- vidual things, the more do we understand God.

Demoxstr. — This is made manifest by the Corollary to Pro}) 25, Part I.

PEOP. XXV. — The highest effort of the soul and its highest virtne is to understand things b}^ the third kind of knowledge.

Demoxstp.. — The third kind of knowledge proceeds from an adequate idea of certain attributes of God to an adequate cognition of the essence of things (for the definition of this third kind of knowledge tide Schol. 2 to Prop. 40, Part II.) ; and the more we un- derstand things in this way, the more do we under- stand God (by preceding Prop.). Consequently (by Prop. 28, Part IV.) the highest virtue of the soul, that is (by Def. 8, Part IV.), the highest poAver or nature of the soul, or (by Prop. 7, Part III.) its high- est effort, is to understand things by this third kind of knoAvledge. q. e. d.

PEOP. XXVI. — The more apt the soul is to understand things by the third kind of knoAvledge, the more does it desire to un- derstand them by this kiml of knoAvledge.

Demoxstr. — This is obAuous. For in so far as Ave conceive the soul to be apt to understand things by this kind of knoAvledge, so far do AA^e concewe it de- termined to understand them in this A\'ay ; and conse-

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queiitly (by 1 Def. Pass.) tlie more apt the soul is to understand in this way, the more does it desire to do so. Q. E. D.

PEOP. XXYII. — Prom tliis third kind of know- ledge arises the highest acquiescence or contentment of mind.

Demonstr. — The highest virtue of the soul is to know God (by Prop. 28, Part lY.), or to understand things by this third kind of knowledge (by Prop. 25) ; and this virtue or power itself is by so much the greater the more the soul knows things by this third kind of knowledge (by Proj). 24). He, therefore, who knows things in this way attains to the highest de- gree of human perfection, and consequently (by 2 Hef. Pass.) is atfected by the highest joy, and this (by Prop. 43, Part II.) in association with the idea of himself and his virtue ; and therefore (by 25 Def. Pass.) from this kind of knowledge arises the highest contentment of soul. q. e. d.

PEOP. XXVIII. — The effort or desire to know things by this third kind of knoAvledge can- not proceed from knowledge of the first kind, but it can from that of the second kind.

Demonste. — This Proposition is self-evident. For whatever thing we understand clearly and distinctly, we understand either by or through the thing itself, or b}^ and through some other thing which is conceived by itself ; that is to say, those ideas that are clear and distinct in our minds, or that are referred to the third kind of knowledge {vide Schol. 2 to Prop. 40, Part IL), cannot proceed from confused and i^utilated

PT. Y. — FREEDOM — POWER OF THE UNDERSTAXDIXG. 325

ideas wliicli (by same Scliol.) are referable to know- ledge of the first kind ; bnt only from adequate ideas or (by same Scliol.) knowledge of the second or third kinds. Therefore (by 1 Def. Pass.) the desire to know things by the third kind of knowledge cannot arise from that of the first kind, bnt it can from that of the second kind. q. e. d.

PROP. XXIX. — Whatever the soul understands under the form of eternity, it understands not because it coneeives the actual present existenee of the body, but because it con- ceives the essence of the body under the form of eternity.

Demoxstr. — In so far as the soul conceives the present existence of its body, so far does it conceive duration which can be determined by time, and so far only has it power to conc'eive things with relation to time (by Prop. 21, this Part, and Prop. 26, Part II.). Bnt eternity cannot be explained by duration (b}" Def. 8, Part I., and its exx)lanation). In so far, there- fore, the soul has not power to conceive tilings under the form of eternity. Bnt as it pertains to the nature of reason to conceive things under the form of eter- nity (by Coroll. 2, Prop. 44, Part II.), and also to the nature of the soul to conceive the essence of the body under the form of eternity (by Prop. 23), and as besides these two no other conceptions pertain to the essence of the soul (by Prop. 13, Part II.), therefore the power of conceiving things under the form of eternity does not belong to the soul save in so far as it conceives the essence of the body under the form of eternity, q. e. d.

ScnoL. — We conceive things as actualities in two

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Spinoza’s ethics.

ways : either as they exist with relation to a certain time and place, or as we conceiye them to be com- ])i‘ised in God and to follow from the necessity of the Divine Mature. Those that we conceive in this second way as true or real we conceive under the form of eternity, and ideas of these involve the eternal and inlinite essence of God, as we have shown in Prop. 4o, Part II., and its SchoL, which see.

PKOP. XXX. — In so far as oiir soul knows itself and its body under the form of eter- nity, in so far has it necessarily a knowledge of God, and knows that it is in God and is conceived through God.

Demonstr. — Eternity is the very essence of God, inasmuch as this essence involves necessary existence (by Def. 8, Part I.). To conceive things under the form of eternity, therefore, is to conceive things as real entities in so far as they are conceived by or through the essence of God, or in so far as through the essence of God they involve existence. Thus, therefore, our soul, in so far as it conceives itself and its body under the form of eternity, in so far has it necessarily a knowledge of God, and knows, etc.

Q. E. D.

PPOP. XXXI. — Knowledge of the third kind depends upon the soul as its formal cause, in so far as the soul itself is eternal.

Demonstr. — The soul conceives nothing under the form of eternity except in so far as the essence of the body itself is so conceived (by Prop. 29), that is to say (by Proiis. 21 and 23), in so far as the soul is

PT. V, — FEEEDOM— POWER OF THE FNDERSTAXDIXG. 327

itself eternal ; consequently (by preceding Prop.) in so far as tlie soul is eternal, it has knowledge of God, and tills knowledge is necessarily adequate (by Prop. 46, Part II.); and hence it is that the soul, in so far as it is eternal, is apt or htted to know all things that can follow from this knowledge of God (by Prop. 40, Part II.), i.e. to know things by the third kind of knowledge (vide Def. in Schol. 2 to Prop. 40, Paid II.), of which the soul, in so far as it is eternal, is (by Def. I, Part III.) the formal or adequate cause.

Q. E. D.

SciiOL. — The more advanced or learned therefore each one is in this kind of knowledge, the greater is his consciousness of himself and of God ; tliat is, the more perfect and blessed is he, — as will more clearly appear in what follows. But it is here to be observed, that although it be certain that the soul is eternal in so far as it conceives things under the form of eter- nity, yet in order to explain more easily and to better understand what we still wish to show, we shall con- sider the soul as if it were beginning to be, and just commencing to understand things under the form of eternity; and this we may do without danger of falling into error, provided we are careful to come to no conclusion except upon the clearest premises.

PKOP. XXXII. — Whatever we understand by the third kind of knowledge gives ns a feeling of delight, of joy, and this is asso- ciated with the idea of Gfod as its cause.

Demoxstr. — From this kind of knowledge arises the most perfect satisfaction or contentment of the soul, that is to say (by 2o Def. Pass.), the highest joy, concomitant with the idea of the soul itself (by

spixoza’s ethics.

328

Prop. 27), and consequently (by Prop. 30) concomitant also witli tlie idea of God as its cause.

Coroll. — From tlie third kind of knowledge neces- sarily arises the Intellectual Love of God. For, from this kind of knowledge arises perfect joy associated with the idea of God as its cause ; that is (by 6 Def. Pass.), Love of God, not as God is imagined to be present (by Prop. 29), but as God is understood to be eternal ; and this is what I call the intellectual love of God.

PROP. XXXIII. — The intellectual love towards Grod which arises from the third kind of knoAvledge is eternal.

Demoxstr. — For the third kind of knowledge is itself eternal (by Prop. 31, this Part, and Axiom 3, Part I.) ; therefore (by same Ax.) the love that arises from it is necessarily eternal also. Q. e. d.

SciiOL. — Although this intellectual love towards God shall have had no beginning (by j)i"eceding Prop.), nevertheless it has all the perfections of Love, precisely as it would had it arisen in the way we have supposed in the Corollary to the preceding Proposi- tion. And there is no difference here, except that the soul will have had eternally the same perfections which we have supposed it as beginning to acquire, associated with the idea of God as their eternal cause. For if joy consists in the transition from a less to a greater state of perfection, beatitude must certainly consist in the soul itself being endowed with perfec- tion.

PROP. XXXIT. — The soul is not subject to the

PT. V. — FREEDOM — POWER OF THE U^^DERSTA^^DIXG. 329

affections that are referred to as passions except during the existence of the body.

Demoxstr. — Imagination is an idea by which the soul contemplates a thing as present {mde Def. of Im- agination in Schol. to Prop. 17, Part II.), which idea, liowever, rather indicates the present state of the human body than the nature of an external object (by Coroll. 2 to Prop. 16, Part II.). An imagination, therefore, is an affection or passion (by Gen. Def. Pass.) in so far as it indicates the present state of the body, and consequently (by Prop. 21) the soul is not subject to the affections that are referred to as pas- sions except during the continuance of the body. Q. E. D.

Coroll. — Hence it follows that no love except in- tellectual love is eternal.

ScnoL. — If we have regard to the common opinions of men we perceive that they are indeed conscious of the eternity of their souls, but that they confound this eternity with duration, and assign to the soul imagination or memory, which they believe to remain after death.

PROP. XXXV. — Grod loves Himself with an in- finite intellectual love.

Demoxstr. — God is absolutely infinite (byDef. fe. Part I.), or (by Def. 6, Part II.) the nature of God possesses infinite perfection concomitant (by Prop. 3, Part II.) with the idea of God, that is (by Prop. 11 and Ax. 1, Part I.), of Himself as Cause ; and this is what in Coroll, to Prop. 32 we have called Intellectual Love.

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spixoza’s ethics.

PROP. XXXVI. — The soul’s intellectual love towards God is itself God’s love Avlierewith God loves Himself, not as God is intinite, hut in so far as God can he explained hv the essence of the human soul considered under a form of eternity ; in other words, the intellectual love of the soul towards God is part of the intinite love wherewitli God loves Himself.

Demox^stk. — Tliis love of the soul must he referred to the actions of the soul (by Coroll. to Prop. 32 above, and by Prop. 3, Part HI.), and is therefore an action by which the soul contemplates itself concom- itant with the idea of God as Cause (by Prop. 32 and its Coroll.) ; in other words (by Coroll. Prop. 25, Part I., and Coroll. Prop. 11, Part II.), it is an action whereby God, in so far as God can be explained by the human sonl, contemplates Himself associated with the idea of Himself ; so that (by preceding Prop.) this intellectual love of the soul for God is part of the infinite love wherewith God loves Himself, q. e. n.

ConoLL. — Hence it follows that in so far as God loves Himself, God loves mankind, and consequently that the love of God towards man, and the intel- lectual love of the sonl of man towards God, is one and the 'same.

SciiOL. — From this we clearly understand wherein our salvation, our beatitude, our freedom consists, — namely, in the constant and eternal love of man to- wards God, or the eternal love of God towards man. This love, this beatitude, is spoken of in the Sacred

PT. V. — FREEDOM — POWER OF THE UXDERSTAXDIXG. 331

Scriptures as Glory, — and not undeservedly. For whether this love be referred to God or to the human soul it is rightly called contentment or peace of soul, which is not to be distinguished from the ‘^gloiy ” of the Scriptures (by 25 and 30 Def. Pass.). For in so far as it is referred to God (by Prop. 35) this love is joy (if I may still be permitted to use this word) con- comitant with the idea of God ; and in so far as it is, referred to the soul of man, it is still the same (by Prop. 27). Again: as the essence of our soul con- sists in knowledge alone, whereof the beginning and foundation is God (by Prop. 15, Part I., and SchoL to Prop. 47, Part II.), it is made manifest to us how and in what way the essence and existence of our soul follows from the Divine Xature and ceaselessly de- pends on God. I have thought it proper to say this here, in order to show how much that knowledge of individual or particular things which I have called intuitive or the third kind of knowledge (Schol. 2, Proj). 40, Part II.), is preferable to and transcends that knowledge which is of a general character, and which I have designated as the second kind. For although ill the First Part I have shown generally that all things (and consequently the human soul also), as re- gards their essence and existence, depended on God, still the demonstration of it there, although legiti- mate and placed beyond the reach of doubt, does not affect our mind as it does when it is demonstrated from the essence of the individual thing itself, which, as we have said, depends on God.

PROP. XXXYII. — There is notliiiig in nature

* Bruder, in the Leipsic Edition, 1843, here cites from the Hebrew, Isaiah vi. 3, Psalms viii. 5, cxiii. 4, and from the Greek, John xL 4, Romans iii. 23, Epln i. 17, 18.— Tu.

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Spinoza's ethics.

that is oj)posed to this intellectual love, or that can annul or destroy it.

Demonste. — This intellectual love follows neces- sarily from the nature of the soul, in so far as by the nature of God it is considered as an eternal truth (by Props. 33 and 29). If, therefore, there were any- thing opposed to this intellectual love, it would be " opposed to truth ; and consequently anything that should annul or destroy this love would make that false which is true, which (obviously) is absurd. Therefore there is nothing in nature, etc. Q. e. d.

SciiOL. — The Axiom in the Fourth Part refers to in- dividual things considered in so far as they have re- lation with a certain time and place, of which I think no one will doubt.

PKOP. XXXVIII. — The greater the number of things the soul understands with the second and third kinds of knowledge, the less will it suffer from the x^assions that are evil or bad, and the less will it fear death.

Demonstr. — The essence of the soul consists in Jinowincf (by Prop. 11, Part II.). Therefore the greater the number of things the soul knows by the second and third kinds of knowledge, the greater will be the part of it that is occupied with knowing and which abides eternally (by Proj)s. 29 and 23) ; and consequently (by preceding Prop.) the greater will be the part not subject to the x^assions which are op- X^osed to our X3roper nature, that is (by Prox3. 30, Part lY.), bad x^assions. Wherefore the greater the num- ber of things the soul understands by the second and third kinds of knowledge the greater is the part of it

PT. Y.— FEEEDO^r— POWEPv OF THE UNHERSTANDIIs^G. 333

that is free from the influence of, and that conse- quently escapes suffering from, the passions that are bad, and the less will it fear death, q. e. d.

SciiOL. — By this we may understand that which I merely touched upon in the Scholium to Prop. 39, Part lY., and which I promised to explain in this Fifth Part, namely — that death is by so much the less destructive as the clear and distinct knowledge of the soul is greater, and consequently as the soul loves God the more. Again, as (by Prop. 27) the highest, the most perfect peace or satisfaction the soul can enjoy arises from the third kind of knowledge, hence it fol- lows that the human soul may be of such a nature that the part of it Avhich, as we have shown, perishes with the body {^ide Prop. 21), may, when compared with that which remains and abides eternally, be of no moment. But of this we shall speak more fully.

PROP. XXXIX. — He Avhose body is apt for or capable of a great number of functions, has a soul the greater part of which is eternal.

Demoxstr. — He whose body is capable of acting in many ways is the least affected by passions that are evil (by Prop. 38, Part lY.), that is (by Prop. 30, Part lY.), by passions contrary to our proper nature ; and, therefore (by Prop. 10), he has the power of ordering and concatenating the affections of his body according to the order of the understanding, and con- sequently (by Prop. 14) the power of referring all the affections of his body to the idea of God ; whence it comes to pass (by Prop. 15) that he is affected with love towards God, which (by Prop. 16), as it oc- cupies or constitutes the greatest part of his soul, so

334

spixoza’s ethics.

(by Prop. 28) lias lie a soul the greatest part of which is eternal, q. e. d.

SciioL. — Inasmuch as lininan bodies are capable of a great many actions, there can be no doubt that their nature may be such as to be referable to souls that have much knowledge of themselves and of God, and of which the greater or principal part is eternal, so that they have scarcely any fear of death. But in order that this may be more clearly understood, it may be observed here that we live in a state of inces- sant change, and that as Ave change for the better or the Avorse, so are Ave said to be ha^ipy or unhappy. The infant or child Avlioni death changes into a corpse is said to be unhappy or unfortunate ; and on the other hand, happiness is ascribed to him Avho lives through all the allotted years of man Avitli a sound mind in a sound body. And indeed the infant or child Avhose body is apt for but feAv functions and greatly dependent upon external causes, has a soul Avhich, considered in itself alone, is scarcely con- scious either of itself, or of God, or of things ; AAdiilst he, on the contrary, Avho has a body apt or capable of many functions, has a soul AAiiich, considered in itself alone, is greatly conscious of itself, of God, and of things. In this life, therefore, it is one of our chiefest cares that the body of the child may be developed into one Avhich shall, as much as its nature permits, be apt for many things, and be joined AAdth a soul greatly conscious of itself, of God, and of things ; and tliis in such a Avay that all that is referred to memory or imagination shall be of little moment in comparison Avith that AAdiich is referred to the under- standing, as I have just said in the Scholium to the preceding Proposition.

PT. Y. — FREEDO^H — POAVER OF THE UXBEP.STAXHIXG. 335

PROP. XL. — The more of perfection any indi- yidiial thing possesses, the more does it act and the less does it suffer ; and, re- ciprocalh^, the more it acts the more per- fect it is.

Demoxstr. — The more perfect anything is, the more reality it has (by Del 6, Part II.) ; and con- sequently (by Prop. 3 and its SchoL, Part III.) the more it acts and the less it suffers ; — and proceeding with the demonstration in the same way, but in an inverse order, it follows that the more perfect a thing is, the more it acts. Q. e. n.

Coroll. — Hence it folloAvs that the part of the soul which remains or abides eternally, whatever its amount, is more perfect than the other part. Xow (by Props. 23 and 29) the eternal ijart of the soul is the understanding^ by vrhicli alone we say we act (by Pro2:>. 3, Part III.) ; but, as we have shown (by Prop. 21), the iwj't of the soul that perishes is the imagina- tion^ by Avhich alone we say we suffer (by Prop. 3, Part III., and the Gen. Del Pass.), and therefore (by preceding Prop.) the former part, whatever its amount, is the more perfect part. Q. e. n.

ScnoL. — These, as I have shown, are the jDarts that constitute the soul, in so far as it is considered with- out relation to the existence of the body. From the preceding Propositions, and also from Prop. 21, Part I., and others, it appears that our soul in so far as it understands is an eternal mode of thought, which is determined by another eternal mode of thought, and that by still another, and so on to infinity, — so that all these modes together constitute the eternal and infinite intelligence of God.

336

spixoza’s ethics.

PKOP. XLI. — Altlioiigli Ave did not knoAA^ tliat our soul is eternal, yet Piety, Ileligion, and all besides that is referred to Courage and Generosity, as sliOAvn in our Poiirth Part, AA oiild have to be held as of tlie first, the liigliest importance in this life.

Deaioxste.— The first, the only foundation of Aurtne or the rule of living right is (by Coroll, to Prop. 22 and by Prop. 24, Part IT.) the pursuit of that AA^hich is truly useful to us. But in determining AAdiat reason prescribes as useful to man, Ave had no ground for concluding that the soul Avas immortal until Ave came to this, our Fifth Part. Although therefore Ave Av^ere at that tkne uninformed of the immortality of the soul, AA’e neA^ertheless then held all those Aurtues that are referred to Courage and Generosity to be of the first importance ; and eA^en Avere Av^e noAv still unin- formed of the immortality of the soul, Av^e should still hold these virtues to be the prime prescription of reason, q. e. d.

ScHOL. — The Amlgar belief seems to be different from this. For most men appear to think themselves free only in so far as they are permitted to gratify their lusts or evil passions, and that they give up their rights AAdien held to live according to the pre- scriptions of the Divine They therefore esteem

piety and religion, and indeed all that is referred to fortitude or strength of mind, as burdens Avhich they expect to lay doAvn after death, when they hope to receive a reAA^ard for their servitude, i.e. for their piety and religion in this life. Xor is it even this hope alone that leads them ; the fear of frightful punishments Avith AAdiich they are menaced after death

PT. V. — FREEDOM — POWER OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 337

also influences them to live — in so far as their im- potence and poverty of spirit permits — in conformity with the prescriptions of the Divine law. And were not this hope and fear infused into the minds of men, bat on the contrary, did they believe that the soul perished with the body and that, beyond the grave, there was no other life prepared for the wretched who had borne the burden of piety in this, it is said they would yield to their natural inclinations, and passing all bounds of moderation give themselves up to their lusts or evil passions, obeying fortune rather than reason. But this appears to me no less- absurd than it would be to suppose that a man, because he did not believe that he could nourish his body eternally with wholesome food, would satiate himself with deadly poisons ; or than if because believing that his soul was not eternal or immortal, he should therefore elect to live like one out of his senses and devoid of reason. Such absurdities are unworthy of consideration.

PROP. XLII. — Beatitude is not the reward of virtue, but virtue itself ; nor do we enjoy it because we restrain our lusts ; on the con- trary, it is because we enjoy beatitude that we are able to restrain our lusts.

De.aionstr. — Beatitude consists in love towards God thy Prop. 36 and its Schol.) — the love which arises from the third kind of knowledge (by Coroll, to Prop. 32). This love must therefore be referred to the soul in so far as it is active (by Props. 59 and 3, Part Ill.j, and consequently (by Def. 8, Part. lY.) it is virtue itself. This in the first ]3lace. Further, the more the soul enjoys of this Divine love or beatitude, the more does it understand (by Prop. 32), that is (by

338 SPINOZA^ S ETHICS.

Coroll, to Prop. 3), the greater is its power over the passions, and (by Prop. 38) the less does it suffer from the passions that are hurtful ; and thus it is, and be- cause the soul possesses this Divine love or beati- tude, that it has the power of restraining its lusts or evil passions ; and this human power of restrain- ing the passions consists solely in understanding. No one, therefore, enjoys beatitude because he re- strains his passions ; on the contrary, the power of restraining them arises from beatitude itself. Q. e. d.

ScHOL. — This comiiletes all that I wished to say re- specting the freedom of the soul and its power over the passions. And from this it clearly appears how much the wise excel in power, and how much better are they than the ignorant who act merely from appetite or desire. For the ignorant man, besides being agi- tated in many and various ways by external causes, and never possessing true peace of soul, lives as if unconscious of himself, of God, and of all things, and only ceases to suffer when he ceases to be. The Avise man, on the contrary, in so far considered as he is truly wise, is scarcely ever troubled in his thoughts, but, by a certain eternal necessity, is conscious of himself, of God, and of things, never ceases to be, and is always in possession of true peace of soul. If the way I have pointed out as leading to freedom ap- pears very difficult, it may nevertheless be found. And indeed that must needs be difficult wdiich is so seldom attained. For liow should it happen, if the soul’s freedom or salvation were close at hand and to be achieved without great labor, that it is so uni- versally neglected \ But all things of highest excel- lence are as difficult of attainment as they are rare.

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