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THE SOUL
OR
RATIONAL PSYCHOLOGY
BY
TRANSLATED AND EDITED BY
FRANK SEWALL, A.M.
From the Latin edition of Dr. J. F. Immanuel Tafel, Tubingen, 1849
SECOND AND REVISED EDITION
NEW YORK
NEW CHURCH BOARD OF PUBLICATION
3 WEST TWENTY-NINTH STREET
MDCCCC
ENTERED ACCORDING TO ACT OP CONGRESS, IN THE YEAR 1887,
BY FRANK SEWALL,
Of TUB OFFICE OF THE LIBRARIAN OP CONGRESS AT WASHINGTON.
v
••••^'C VfRSJON
AVAILABLE
NO.
[TITLE-! AGE OF THE LATIN EDITION]
EMAN. SWEDENBORGII
Sacrat Regiae Majestatis Regniqut Sueciae Collegii Metallic! Assettcrit
REGNUM ANIMALE
ANATOMICE, PHYSICE ET PHILOSOPHICE PERLUSTKATUM
cujus
J3are Septima
DE ANIMA
H CHOtOGRAPHO EJUS IN BIBLIOTHECA REGIAB ACADKMIAK HOLMIENSIS ASSEKVAT9
NUNC PRIMOM EDIDIT
DR. JO. FR. IM. TAFEL
Pro/ester et Rcgiat Bibliothccac Univcrsitatis TubingtHTis Prae/tOiu
TUBINGAE
CURAM ADMINISTRAT " VERLAGSEXPEDITION "
LONDINI
WILLIAM NEWBERY, 6, KING STREET, HOLBO&N
H. BALLIERE, 219, REGENT STREET
I 849
CONTENTS.
THE TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE .page vii
PREFACE OF THE EDITOR OF THE LATIN EDITION, " xxi
AN INTRODUCTORY ESSAY ON SCIENCE AND THEOLOGY IN SWE-
DENBORG'S WRITINGS, _ " xxiii
AUTHOR'S PREFACE, — — " xxx
JJart .first.
THE SENSES.
CHAP. I. — THE SIMPLE FIBER (0.1-14), t°ge 3
Its nature. — The Fibrous System and the Body. — Diseases of the Fibers. — Deri-
vations of Bodily from 'Mental Diseases, and vice versa.
CHAP. II. — THE SENSES (n. 15-23), .page 8
External Organs of the Senses. — The Sensory Fibers. — How the Sensations are
carried from the External to the Internal Organs. —The Cortical Glandules,
their number, variety and harmony, and their relation to the Sensations.
— The Spiral and the Vortical Circumvolution of the Sensations in the Brain.
— Harmony and Discord of Sensations. — The Inmost Sensory.
CHAP. III. — THE INTELLECT AND ACTION (n. 24-34), .page 17
Connection of Intellect and Action. — The First Perception. — The Force exciting
Perception. — The Desires thence derived. — What Perceptions are innate and
what acquired. — The purely Animal knowledges of Sense. — The concurrence
of the Soul with Sense. — The more perfect Forms are, the more pleasing to
the Sense.
CHAP. IV. — THE SENSE OF TOUCH (n. 35-38), page 30
The lowest and truly corporeal sense.— On what its perfection depends.— To
what Cortical Glandules the organs ot the Sensation of Touch correspond.
— How the Soul perceives most distinctly any change in the entire body, &c.
CHAP. V. — THE TASTE (n. 39-42), page 36
Taste is a higher sense ot Touch. — What Forms it discerns. — Its Organic Sub-
stances in the Tongue. — On what its perfection depends. — How Taste is car-
ried to the Brain as a Common Sensory immediately by the Nerve of the
Fifth Pair, &c.
CHAP. VI.— THE SMELL (n. 43-48), page 40
Smell is a still higher sense of Touch. — It discerns the still more simple Angu-
lar Forms which are borne about in the aerial Atmosphere. — Touch, Taste,
and Smell perceive the External Forms of Parts, but not the Internal
Forms as do the Hearing and Sight — How the Common Sensory is affected
by the sense of Smell. — The still purer Bodies and Forma known to the
Soul, but not perceptible by any sense.
CHAP. VII. — THE HEARING (n. 49-67), .page 46
The Organ of this sense. — Also a sense of Touch. — What is Harmony and
Disharmony. — The Hearing a more excellent sense than Touch, Taste, or
SuielL — The Speech of Brutes only corporeal and material, signifying af-
fections ; the same element in Human Language. — Action of the Motor and
Sensory Fibers in Hearing. — The Restorative and Recreative effects of the
IV THE SOUL.
sense of Hearing. — A Common Sound necessary to the production of Par-
ticular Sounds.— Common Sound. — The diredt communication of the Hear-
ing with the Cerebrum by the softer nerve of the Seventh Pair, &c.
CHAP. VIII.— THE SIGHT (n. 68-90) page 54
Its Organ adapted to receive the modifications of the Ether. — The most perfect
ot the external senses ; its limited powers.— Revelations of the Microscope.
— Inference from analogy as to the power of Mental Sieht — Power of vision
in Animalcules. — Images, variations of Light and Shade, Colour, Harmony,
etc. — Process of the Sensation in the Brain described. — Imagination the in-
ternal sense of Sight. — How objects of the external senses pass into objects
of the internal senses.— The translation of modifications, through the Circu-
lar and Spiral, up to the Vortical Form. — The interior sense of Place pos-
sessed by Brutes, but wanting in Man.
CHAP. IX.— PERCEPTION, IMAGINATION, MEMORY, AND THEIR IDEAS (n.
91—122), _ _ _ -page 63
Imagination an Internal Sight. — Correspondence between the Imagination and
Ocular Vision. — The parts of Vision are Objedls and Images of Imagination.
— Ideas. — The Memory the Potential Imagination; the Imagination the Active
Memory. — The Imagination dependent on the Memory and the Memory
upon the Senses. — The Imagination requires more than Memory ; the Order,
Law and Harmony of the Parts, both of Imagination and of Memory, derived
not from Sense but from the pure Intellect, and thus from the Soul. — Natural
Inclination, as of the Poet, the Musician, the Mechanic, depends more on the
Imagination than on the Intellect, etc.
JJort Seconb.
THE INTELLECT.
CHAP. X. — THE PURE INTELLECT (n. 123-139), ______ ..... ______ page 73
CHAP. XL— THE HUMAN INTELLECT (n. 140-158),. ___________ ......... __________ .page 84
Intellection, Cogitation, .Ratiocination, and Judgment.
CHAP. XII. — INTERCOURSE OF SOUL AND BODY (n. 159-174), — ........ page 97
Relation of Ideas to Impressions. — Correspondence, Natural and Acquired. —
Action.— Determination.— Instinct.— The Soul everywhere present in the Body
|)ort
THE AFFECTIONS.
CRAP. XIII.— CONCERNING HARMONIES AND THE AFFECTIONS THENCE ORIG-
INATING; AND CONCERNING THE DESIRES IN GENERAL (n.
(175-196) .......... ------ ...... ------- ............... -- ............... — .......... page no
CHAP. XIV. — THE LOWER MIND (Animus) AND ITS AFFECTIONS IN PAR-
TICULAR (n. 197-288), ------------------ ...... --------- ....... --- .page 117
Gladness. — Sadness. — Loves in general. — TheVenereal Love. — Hatred and aver-
sion to Venereal Love. — The Conjugial Love. — The Conjugial Hate. — Love
of Parents for Children. — Love ot Society and of Country. — Love for one's
Associates, and Friendship. — Hatred. — Love of Self. — Ambition. — Pride.—
Haughtiness. — Humility. — Contempt. — Dejection of Spirits. — Hope and De-
spair. — Love of Immortal Fame after Death. — Generosity. — Magnanimity.
— What are Loves of the World and of the Body. — Pusillanimity and Folly. —
Avarice. — Prodigality. — Liberality.— Contempt'of Wealth. — Pity. — Charity. —
Fear and Dread. — Bravery. — Intrepidity and Courage. — Indignation. — An-
ger.— Fury.— Zeal __ Patience.— Mildness.— Tranquility of Mind. — Impatience.
— Shame. — Revenge. — Misanthropy. — Love of Solitude. — Cruelty. — Clemen-
cy. — Intemperance. — Luxury. — Temperance. — Parsimony. — Frugality.
CONTENTS. V
CHAP. XV. — ANIMUS AND RATIONAL MIND (Mens) (n. 289-306), .page 176
The Rational Mind (Mens} the Life of Thought, as the Animus is the Life of Sens-
ation.
CHAP. XVI. — CONCERNING THE FORMATION OF THE RATIONAL MIND AND
CONCERNING ITS AFFECTIONS (n. 307-339), .page 188
The Loves and Affections of the Mind in general. — The Love of Understanding
and of being Wise. — The Love of knowing Secret Things ; Wonder. — The
Love of Foreknowing the Future. — The Love of Good and of Evil. — The
Affirmative and the Negative.-^-Conscience. — The Highest Good and the
Highest Truth. — The Love of Virtues and of Vices. — Honesty. — Decorum.
CHAP. XVII. — CONCLUSION AS TO WHAT CONSTITUTES THE ANIMUS, WHAT
THE RATIONAL, AND WHAT THE SPIRITUAL MIND (n.
340-350) page 215
That the Rational Mind is properly what is called Man.
CHAP. XVIII.— FREE WILL, OR THE CHOICE OF MORAL GOOD AND EVIL
(n. 351-377). page 219
In what does Liberty consist. — The First Liberty consists in the ability to with-
draw the Mind from corporeal things. — The Second Liberty consists in the
ability to learn, from Sacred and other writings and from reflection, that
there is a Spiritual and a Divine which is above, and thus to procure an
intellectual Faith. — The Third Liberty consists in using the prescribed means,
tiy u
much unhappiness to the race.
CHAP. XIX.— THE WILL AND ITS LIBERTY : AND WHAT RESPECTIVELY is
THE INTELLECT (n. 378-400), _ page 244
The Intellect, viewed in itself, has for its object the Truth.— The Analytic and
Synthetic Methods. — The Rational Logic. — The Will in general means the
Mind ; but in particular some Special Mind or Determined Love.— The
Mind thinks when it contemplates means to an end, it judges when it ar-
ranges the means in their true order ; at length it concludes or wishes, and
this conclusion is called the Will. — The Liberty of the Mind consists only in
this, That it can obev or not obey the Intellect. — All Will has regard to" an
Effect in which is an End, and hence is a Future Event.
CHAP. XX. — [THE MENTAL FACULTIES (n. 401-428),] .page 255
Discourse. — Human Prudence. — Simulation and Dissimulation. — Cunning and
Malice. — Sincerity. — Justice and Equity. — The Knowledges, Intelligence and
Wisdom. — The Causes which change the state of the Intellect and of the Ra-
tional Mind, or those which pervert and those which perfect. — Causes, Con-
nate and Acquired : of the Mind, of the Body.
CHAP. XXI. — LOVES OF THE SOUL OR SPIRITUAL LOVES (n. 429-461), page 270
The Love of a Being above Self. — The Love of the Neighbor as of Oneself. — The
'- -. near to the Beloved.
of
__opagating the Heavenly Society by Natural Means.— The Love ot one's
Body.— The Love of Immortality.— Spiritual Zeal— The Love of Propagating
the Kingdom and City of God. — The Derivation of Corporeal Loves from
Spiritual Loves and their Concentration in the Rational Mind. — Pure or Di-
vine Love regarded in Itself.
CHAP. XXII.— THE INFLUX OF THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS INTO
THE BODY, AND OF THE BODY INTO THE ANIMUS (n.
462-469), _.._ _ - page 288
CHAP. XXIII.— -THE INFLUX OF THE RATIONAL MIND INTO THE ANIMUS
AND BY MEANS OF THE ANIMUS INTO THE BODY; AND THE
INFLUX OF THE ANIMUS INTO THE RATIONAL MIND (n.
470-472), page 293
VI THE SOUL.
CHAP. XXIV.— THE INFLUX OF THE SPIRITUAL MIND, OR OF THE SOUL
INTO THE ANIMUS, AND THAT OF THE ANIMUS INTO THE
SPIRITUAL MIND (n. 473-476), .............................................. .page 296
The Influx of Spiritual Loves of the Soul into the Rational Mind, and vice versa.
CHAP. XXV. — INCLINATIONS AND TEMPERAMENTS (n. 477-485), _____ page 299
The Spiritual inclination of being Wise ; the Natural inclination of Knowing ;
the Intellectual inclination of Understanding. — The Temperaments: San-
guine, Choleric, Melancholy, Phlegmatic.
JJort
IMMORTALITY: AND THE STATE OF THE SOUL AFTER DEATH.
CHAP. XXVI.— CONCERNING DEATH (n. 486-497) ................................... page 304
CHAP. XXVII.— THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL (n. 498-510), ........ .page 311
CHAP. XXVIII.— THE STATE OF THE SOUL AFTER THE DEATH OF THE
BODY (n. 511-532) ........................................................................ page 319
CHAP. XXIX. — CONCERNING HEAVEN, OR THE SOCIETY OF HAPPY SOULS
(n. 533-542). ................. - ......... --------- ............ ---- .................... -Pag* 334
CHAP. XXX. — CONCERNING HELL, OR THE SOCIETY OF UNHAPPY SOULS (n.
CHAP. XXXI. — CONCERNING THE DIVINE PROVIDENCE (n. 549-561 ),page 344
CHAP. XXXIL— THE UNIVERSAL MATHESIS (n. 562-567), .................... page 351
A Science of Sciences or Universal Science. — Not learned, but inborn in the Soul;
and possessed by Souls released from the body, and by Angels. — Unless
the Soul were possessed of such a knowledge it could not flow into our
thoughts and endue us with the power of understanding and expressing
higher things ; nor could it compel its organic forms to conform to the
most interior and hidden laws, both mechanical, physical, chemical, and
others. — Truths a priori.
Slppenbixes.
APPENDIX I.— TWELVE THESES ON THE HUMAN SOUL, page 355
From tkt "Economy of the Animal Kingdom," Part II., Chap. III.
APPENDIX II. — AN ABSTRACT OF THE "EPILOGUE ON THE SENSES, OR SENS-
ATION IN GENERAL," page 360
From Part IV. of the "Animal Kingdom," as edited in Latin by Dr. J. F. 1m-
manuel Tafel, Tubingen and London, 1848 ; now first translated.
A. Sensation in general. — B. Concerning Truths.— C. Concerning the Affec-
tions.— D. A general Exposition regarding Sensation and ABetftion. — E.
From the Rules of Harmony or of Music. — F. Conclusion concerning the In-
telledt and its Operation.
APPENDIX ill.— EXTRACTS FROM THE PSYCHOLOGICAL TREATISES OF ARIS-
TOTLE (Thomas Taylor's Translation}r Page 3°8
A. From Aristotle's "On tht Soul."— B. From Aristotle's "On the Generation
of Animals," etc.
APPENDIX IV.— ERRATA IN THE LATIN TEXT, page 379
INDEX P*g* 380
TRANSLATOR S PREFACE. Vli
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.
From the author's statement in his preface to the treatise on the
Soul, as well as from the tenor of his scientific and philosophical
writings throughout, it is unmistakably clear that the search for
the soul was the real end and inspiring motive of all his labours.
The ardour with which he sought this precious knowledge is
evinced by the frequent tentative and preliminary essays scattered
through his writings, in which he records his fragmentary glimpses
of his subject, and pursues as it were the fleeting vision of a sublime
figure forever eluding his grasp.
Thus in his prologue to the work entitled The Animal Kingdom,
the author publishes a "Summary of his intended work;" in the
course of which, after a series of anatomical studies, is placed an
Introducton to Rational Psychology, " consisting of new doctrines
through the assistance of which," he remarks, "we may be con-
dueled from the material organism of the body to a knowledge of
the soul which is immaterial ; these are, the doctrine of Forms, the
doctrine of Order and Degrees, also, the doctrine of Series and
Society, the doctrine of Influx, the doctrine of Correspondence and
Representation, lastly, the doctrine of Modification."
This Introduction to Rational Psychology the author had actu-
ally furnished already in the First Part (chapter viii.) of the Econ-
omy of the Animal Kingdom, published some years previously. In
the projected Summary the Introduction was to be followed imme-
diately by the Rational Psychology itself, which should comprise
" the subjects of Action, of External and Internal Sense, of Imagina-
tion and Memory; also of the Affections of the Animus, of the In-
tellect, that is, of the Thought and of the Will, and of the Affec-
tions of the Rational Mind, also of Instinct ; lastly of the Soul, and of
its State in the Body, its Intercourse, Affections, and Immortality,
and of its State when the Body dies. The work to conclude with
a Concordance of Systems."
In the series as published, however, we find the Introduction to
Rational Psychology actually followed by the chapters i. and ii. of
the Second Part of the Economy, treating of the Motion of the Brain
and of its Cortical Substance, and these are again as abruptly suc-
ceeded by a chapter on the Human Soul, in beginning which the au-
thor refers to his previous endeavour "to expound a doctrine of
Series and Degrees, by way of introduction to a knowledge of the
viii THE SOUL.
soul." " I could not but think," he says, " with mankind in general,
that all our knowledge of it [the soul] was to be attempted by a bare
reasoning philosophy, or more immediately by the anatomy of the
human body. But upon making the attempt, I found myself as far
from my object as ever, for no sooner did I seem to have mastered
the subject, than I found it again eluding my grasp, though it never
absolutely disappeared from my view. Thus my hopes were not
destroyed, but deferred."
Speaking of the doctrine of Series and Degrees as only teaching
"the distinction and relation between things superior and inferior,
or prior and posterior," and as unable "to express by any adequate
terms of its own those things which transcend the sphere of famil-
iar things," he declares the necessity of our having recourse to a
Mathematical Philosophy of Universals, a kind of universal science
to which all other sciences and arts are subject, and one which
"advances through their innermost mysteries, as it proceeds from
its own principle to causes and from causes to effects, by its own,
that is by the natural, order." " But even if it were granted," he
continues, " that the doctrine of Order and the science of Universals
were carried by the human mind to the acme of perfection, never-
theless it does not follow that we should, by these means alone, be
brought into a knowledge of all that can be known; for these
sciences are but subsidiary, serving only by a compendious method
and mathematical certainty to lead us, by continued abstractions
and elevations of thought, from the posterior to the prior sphere ;
or from the world of effects, which is the visible, to the world of
causes and principles, which is the invisible. Hence in order that
these sciences may be available we must have recourse to experi-
ments and to the phenomena of the senses, without which they
would remain in a state of bare theory and bare capability of aiding
us For these reasons I am strongly persuaded that the
essence and nature of the soul, its influx into the body, and the
reciprocal action of the body, can never come to demonstration,
without these doctrines [of Series, Orders and Universals], combined
with a knowledge of anatomy, pathology, and psychology ; nay, even
of physics, and especially of the auras of the world ; and that unless
our labours take this direction and mount from phenomena, thus we
shall in every new age have to build new systems, which in their
turn will tumble to the ground, without the possibility of being
rebuilt This and no other, is the reason that with diligent study
and intense application I have investigated the anatomy of the
body, and principally the human, so far as it is known from experi-
ence ; and that I have followed the anatomy of all its parts in the
same manner as I have here investigated the cortical substance.
In doing this I may have gone beyond the ordinary limits of inquiry,
so that but few of my readers may be able distinctly to understand
me. But thus far I have felt bound to venture, for I have resolved,
cost what it may, to trace out the nature of the human soul. He
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. Ix
therefore who desires the end, ought also to desire the means."
He then proceeds to arrange into chapters what he calls " The first
fruits of my psychological labours."*
The reverence and cautious modesty which everywhere tempers
the ardour of the author in the quest of his sublime object are ap-
parent in the mention which, only four years later, in the work on
the Animal Kingdom, he makes of this same "Prodromus on the
Human Soul." Thus he writes : —
"Not very long since I published the Economy of the Animal Kingdom,
a work divided into distinct treatises, but treating only of the blood, the
arteries, and the heart, and of the motion of the brain and the cortical sub-
stance thereof ; and before traversing the whole field in detail I made a
rapid passage to the soul and put forth a prodromus respecting it. But on
considering the matter more deeply, I found that I had directed my course
thither both too hurriedly and too soon, after having explored the bioodonly
and its peculiar organs. I took the step, impelled by an ardent desire for
knowledge. But as the soul acts in the supreme and innermost things, and
does not come forth until all her swathings have been successively unfolded,
I am therefore determined to allow myself no respite, until I have traversed
the universal animal kingdom, to the soul. Thus I hope that by bending
my course inward continually, I shall open all the doors that lead to her,
and at length contemplate the soul herself, by the Divine permission" (Pro-
logue to the Animal Kingdom, no. 19).
Accordingly, in the work on the Animal Kingdom, the author
proceeds to examine in detail the various parts of the human body,
omitting those which had been treated of already in the Economy, etc.,
namely, the heart, the vessels, and the blood (Prologue to Part III.,
An. King., no. 469). Part I. treats of the Organs of Taste and of
Digestion, of the Glands, the Gall-bladder, the Kidneys, etc. Part II.
treats of the Viscera of the Thorax, or the Organs of the Superior
region. Part III., of the Skin, -the Senses of Touch and Taste, and
Organic Forms generally. It is noticeable that the brain is neither
mentioned by the author as having been already "fully treated of"
in the Economy, nor included in the three parts of the Animal
Kingdom, as translated and published in the volumes bearing that
name. The treatises on the brain which fill so conspicuous a place
in the projected Summary of the author's labours above mentioned,
were designed by the author to constitute the succeeding division,
or Part IV. of the work on the Animal Kingdom, as appears from
his assertion at the close of no. 468, in the Prologue to Part III. of
the same work. The extensive manuscripts left by the author cov-
ering this great division of his work have been in minor portions
brought to light through the translations of Dr. J. J. G. Wilkinson,
* The Twelve Theses, or Statement of Principles, contained in this important
chapter, or Prodromus on The Human Soul, we have thought it desirable to present
to the reader in the form of an appendix to the present work, omitting the elaborate
exposition and demonstration which follows each number (see Appendix I.). [Tr
X THE SOUL.
and are now in process of being translated and publisned entire
under the editorship of Dr. Rudolph L. Tafel.*
At the close of the Prologue here referred to the author once
again intimates his intention " to ascend by degrees to the supreme
sphere from whence we may legitimately deduce the principles of
things, and where we may speak of the soul with comparative cer-
tainty and definiteness," in order that from the higher knowledge
thus attained he may more intelligently treat of a subject which,
according to his original plan of the work, would here have its place,
namely, that of generation and "the organs by means of which new
forms are conceived in the image of the form preceding them."
This intention he carried out in treating of The Brain, in whose
cortical or cineritious substance "the soul resides as in its princi-
ples" (An. King., no. 468), and also in those treatises edited by Dr.
Immanuel Tafel, Tubingen, 1848, in the Latin, entitled also, " Part IV.
of the Animal Kingdom, which treats of the Carotids, of the Senses
of Smell, Hearing, and Sight, of Sensation and Affection in General,
and of the Intellect and its Operation." An abstract of these treat-
ises, hitherto untranslated, particularly of the author's Epilogue on
the Senses, or Sensation in general, of his General Exposition concern-
ing Sensation and Affeftion, of his Rules of Harmony and Music, and
his Conclusion concerning the Intellect and its Operation, we have
added to the present work, forming Appendix II.
Descending now, as he had promised, from these first principles
again into the body, the author discusses in succeeding parts of the
Animal Kingdom, the Periosteum and the Mammae (De Periosteo et
de Mammis ; Tafel, Tubingae, 1849), and Generation and its Organs
(De Generatione, de Partibus Genitalibus titrzusgue sexus, et dc Forma-
tione Foetus in Utero ; ed. Tafel, Tubingae, 1849. Translated by
Wilkinson, London, 1852) ; and at length, having surveyed the entire
field of the human anatomy and physiology, he reaches in the treat-
ise now offered to the reader, the long anticipated Rational Psysho-
logy itself, which, according to his plan drawn up in the Prologue
to the Animal Kingdom, should conclude the whole series of
treatises, and should " comprise the subjects of Action, of External
and Internal Sense, of Imagination and Memory; also of the Affec-
tions of the Animus; of the Intellect, that is, of Thought, and of
the Will, and of the Affections of the Rational Mind ; also of In-
stinct ; lastly of the Soul, and of its State in the Body, its Intercourse,
Affection and Immortality ; and of its State when the Body dies."
All the subjects here named are treated under their proper heads
in the work now before us, with the exception of Action. A
special treatise on this subject, together with other brief papers,
was published both in Latin and in an English translation, in
* TTie Brain ; considered Anatomically, Physiologically, and Philosophically.
by Emanuel Swedenborg: edited, translated and annotated by R. L. Tafel, A.M.
Ph.D.; in four volumes. James Speirs, 36 Bloomsbury Street, London.
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. • xi
London, 1847, by Dr. J. J. G. Wilkinson, under the title of Posthu-
mous Tracts. Besides the treatise on Aftion, and another on
Sensation, or the Passion of the Body, this volume contains three
brief transactions, all pertaining immediately to the subject, before
us, but evidently written at intervals, and at a time previous to the
date of the present work. These three are, a brief essay entitled
The Way to a knowledge of the Soul, a paper in four chapters on
The Origin and Propagation of the Soul, and a treatise of consider-
able length called a Fragment on the Soul.
Even as early as 1734, in the work entitled Outlines on the Infinite,
which immediately succeeded the Principia, the author devotes
the second part of the treatise to a Philosophical Argument on the
Mechanism of the Intercourse between the Soul and the Body,*
Finally, among these preliminary glances at the great subject
aimed at should be here mentioned two chapters on The Soul, and the
Chain and Bond of Uses, the latter treating of the cerebrum as the
medium of intercourse between the soul and the body. These are
found in Codex 58 of the Manuscripts (Photolithographed MSS.,
vol. vi., pp. 81-92), and inserted by Dr. Rudolph L. Tafel in vol. i. of
the above-mentioned work on The Brain (see page 13).
An explanation of these frequent and scattered unfinished essays
on the soul, is afforded in the author's address to the reader with
which he introduces the above mentioned Fragment on the Soul.
He says : —
"I was for some time in doubt whether to comprise in a single volume
all my long meditations on the soul and the body, and their reciprocal action
and passion, or whether it would be better to divide the work into numbers,
and publish it seriatim, after the manner of transactions. To declare the
nature of the soul, to exhibit its state, to show the mutual intercourse and
actions subsisting between it and the body, and the connection of each with
each in the bonds of harmony ; in other words, to display philosophically,
analytically, geometrically and anatomically, the entire animal kingdom and
its parts, with the functions and offices of each. This is a labour of some
years, and must extend over several volumes I have thought it most
prudent to divide the labour, and to take up my pen at short intervals, allow-
ing myself occasionally a little respite, to draw breath and enable me to attend
to my other duties. For the mind is even as the pen ; too much usage
blunts its point and wears away its fineness. Such, gentle reader, is the
reason which will move me to recur at frequent intervals to the task I have
prescribed for myself, and to intrude myself often upon your presence, pro-
bably not less than five or six times a year with my publications, or as they
may properly be called Psychological Transactions. By this means I hope,
after a few years, to gain the end, and to be in a condition to declare the
state of the soul when its connection with the body is dissolved by death,
and it is left to its own disposal."
That the work now before us, De Anima, is the author's long
deferred Rational Psychology, and the final summary of all his studies
* Outlines of a Philosophical Argument on the Infinite, etc., oy Emanuel Swe-
denborg. Translated from the Latin by James John Garth Wilkinson ; London , 1847.
Xll THE SOUL.
on this subject, forming also the conclusion and culmination of the
great series entitled the Animal Kingdom, seems abundantly appa-
rent from the agreement of its contents with those subjects indi-
cated in the closing numbers of the author's projected scheme oi
his work, from the almost universal reference in the minor treatises
to a fuller and final one to come, and from the distinct statement in
the author's preface to this work, that it is only after completing his
survey of the human anatomy that he now feels himself enabled to
really advance and penetrate into the hitherto hidden knowledge ol
the soul itself. He refers to his preliminary studies, including the
Introdtittion to a Rational Psychology, as having been finished ; and
" so now, at length," he writes, " we may treat of the soul from princi-
ples, or synthetically." And finally, whereas he has hitherto warned
his reader and himself from daring prematurely to enter the sacred
precincts of this supreme knowledge, he now boldly invites to enter;
believing that his reader, if he shall have deigned to follow him thus
far, " will perceive what is the soul, what is its state in the body, and
what after the life of the body."
That a work forming the culmination and conclusion of the
whole series of scientific and philosophic works of Swedenborg
should have lain hidden away in manuscript one hundred years be-
fore being Drought to light, as it then was in the Latin edition of
Dr. J. F. Immanuel Tafel, seems remarkable ; and hardly less so that
nearly half a century has passed before an English translation has
been furnished. The transcendent importance of the work, if we
may judge from the relative estimate placed upon its subject-matter
by the author himself, or from the diligence and ardour with which
he prosecuted the laborious studies necessary to its production,
appears plainly enough from what we have here adduced.
We desire to add a few reflections on its value as viewed in the
light of the relations this work sustains to the history of philosophy
in general, and also in particular to the subsequent or theological
' portion of the author's writings.
The one desire and aim animating the entire series of Sweden-
borg's scientific and philosophical writings was, as we have at the
outset remarked, his "search for the soul." This single aim fur-
nishes us the key to Swedenborg's mission in the world of science,
of philosophy, and of theology.
To know the nature of spirit and its relation to matter, or, as the
author so frequently puts it, " a knowledge of the soul and of its in-
tercourse with the body," was the twofold object of his search. If we
regard the body in the sense of the larger body — the natural world, —
and the soul as meaning the larger soul — the spiritual world, —
the knowledge of the soul and its intercourse with the body becomes
identical with that of the spiritual world and its relation to the nat-
ural world, and this is pre-eminently the subject of the descriptive
portion of our author's theological writings.
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. xiii
Where did he 'seek this knowledge of the soul ?
In its own realm. In the living (and not in the dead) human
body ; in the kingdom of uses, as exhibited in the beautiful order,
harmony, and activities cf the human anatomy and physiology.
The " Animal Kingdom " meant to Swedenborg the kingdom of
the anima, the realm over which the soul presides as queen.
The relation of this soul to her body, or her own kingdom and
world, was what he first sought to know; and through that to know
the nature of the soul herself. The knowledge he obtained in these
labours, while not all that he aimed at, was nevertheless that which
peculiarly and pre-eminently qualified his mind to be the recipient
of the greater knowledge of the true nature of spirit and of the re-
lation of the spiritual to the natural world.
The doctrine of Correspondence as a science was naturally, and
not supernatu rally, revealed to Swedenborg. It was a deduction
of his own reasoning, or a part of his own philosophy, as was the
doctrine of Order, Series, Degrees, and Modification, on which it
rests. This is unmistakably apparent from his own statement,*
and from the repeated applications of and references to these doc-
trines in his scientific writings.
The doctrine of Correspondence became manifest to Swedenborg
in his search for the mode of the soul's intercourse with the body.
It was here, in the human soul's own province, that our author
found the key which was to solve the problem of the ages, and open
the minds of men to a truly heavenly knowledge of the relation of
the spiritual to the natural world, of spirit to matter, of earth to
heaven, of the written Word to eternal and essential truth, and of
man to God.
To Swedenborg Correspondence meant, in its first sense, the cor-
respondence of the body to its physical environment, and then that
of the soul within to its corporeal, that is, its fibrous and sensuous
environment.
The history of this doctrine of Correspondence carries us back
to the origins of philosophy among the Greeks, and especially brings
into prominence the relation of Swedenborg and Aristotle. The
historic antecedents of the doctrine of Influx, or the Intercourse of
the Soul and Body, Swedenborg himself has outlined in several of his
theological works, but especially in his brief but wonderful treatise
De Commercio Animae et Carports (On the Intercourse of the Soul
and the Body).
Swedenborg, as no other writer, deserves the proud title of the
Aristotle of modern philosophy. For as Aristotle, with his inductive
and scientific method, succeeded to the idealism of Plato, so after
the speculative and ideal systems of Descartes in France, and Leibnitz
and Wolf in Germany, came Swedenborg with his severely practical
* See in the present work, chap. xii. ; also Economy of the Animal Kingdom
chap. viii.
XIV THE SOUL.
method, his reasoning from experience, climbing by the ladder of
knowledge a posteriori up to the higher and interior principles, from
which again he might descend into a true philosophy of nature and
of man. The coincidence of the researches of Aristotle and Swe-
denborg on the subject of the soul cannot but strike the attention
of the historian ; not indeed so much in the resemblance of their
contents, although this is in instances remarkable, as in the similar-
ity of method, or their ways of approaching the remotely-hidden
object of their quest. Both used the experimental method, and this
led them into very similar paths of investigation. As evidence of
this, notice the contents of that series of Aristotle's writings in which
his work On the Soul (irspi ipvx^) occurs. They are as follows : —
four books on the Parts of Animals ; five books on the Generation of
Animals ; to which are added treatises on the Walking of Animals,
on the Motion of Animals, and on the Spirit. Three books on the
Soul; to which are added treatises on Sense and the Sensitive ; on
Memory ; on Sleep and Dreams ; on Length and Shortness of Life ;
on Youth and Old Age ; on Life and Death ; and on Respiration.
That our reader may compare at a glance the methods of discussion
.as well as the thoughts advanced by these two great inductive psy-
chologists, the leaders of ancient and of modern learning respect-
ively, 1 have thought it admissible to introduce as an appendix to
the present work a series of extracts made at random from Taylor's
translation of Aristotle's Dr Anima, etc. (see Appendix III.).
Great, however, as was Swedenborg's admiration for his illustrious
master and predecessor in the line of inductive research, so that to
him was assigned the highest place among the world's great teachers,
.as evinced by the titles, the " Chief Philosopher of the Gentiles," and
" Our Philosopher," so often and so endearingly bestowed in allud-
ing to him,* yet was Swedenborg no blind follower of even so re-
vered a teacher, nor did he hesitate to differ from him on the im-
portant question of the manner of the intercourse of the body and
the soul.
Three doctrines had hitherto prevailed in the learned world re-
garding the intercourse of mind and matter. The first, called by
Swedenborg that of Physical Influx, was taught by Aristotle, and
afterwards during all the earlier period of Christian learning by the
Schoolmen. After this came the doctrine of Spiritual or Occasional
Influx, as taught by Descartes and his disciples. At last came Leib-
nitz with his, as he believed only reconciling, doctrine of Pre-estab-
lished Harmony .t Swedenborg, agreeing wholly with neither, sought
to reconcile the three by extracting and combining the gist of truth
in each, and the resultant doctrine he named the doctrine of Cor-
respondence, a doctrine which rests upon the equally philosophic
* Econ. An. King., vol. ii. pp. 240, 241, 247.
t For a statement of these dodlrines see note to no. 167 (p. 104) of the present
-work.
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. XV
and scientific doctrines of Series, Orders, Degrees, and Modifications.
Correspondence, as seen in the plane of nature only, (and it was
only on this plane that Swedenborg up to this time had discovered
it,) consists in such a mutual adaptation of inner and outer, higher
and lower, grosser and more subtle spheres or bodies, that there
may be a reception, communication, and transference of motions
and affections from one to the other. It is therefore the name we
give to that kind of intercourse which is not bodily influx, or to the
union that exists, not by continuity or confusion of substance, but
by contiguity and modification of state. It is the relation of the
affluent waves of ether to the eye ; of the eye to the sensory fibre,
of the fibre to the cortical gland ; of the gland to the common sens-
ory ; of the sensory to the imagination ; of the imagination to the
intellect; of the intellect to the soul ; of the soul to God. By cor-
respondence the outer affects the inner without becoming one with
it; by correspondence things totally different in degree and in sub-
stance are nevertheless so adapted that motions or tremulous vi-
brations in one may be continued through the other, or converted
into some modification of the other's state. So the soul corresponds
in general and in every particular to its body.
This doctrine of Correspondence, thus learned by Swedenborg
from the human body and its relation to the soul, was afterward ap-
plied by him to all things material and spiritual, and thus to the
natural and spiritual world.*
Does it therefore follow that what Swedenborg has delivered in
his theological writings as Divinely revealed, is after all reducible
to a purely natural and scientific knowledge ? Swedenborg laid no
claims, indeed, to any supernatural illumination while elaborating
these doctrines of Correspondence, of Degrees, of Series, etc., in his
scientific works, and yet on these doctrines rests logically the whole
scheme of the spiritual metaphysics embraced in his theological
works. The answer to this question is a matter of grave import-
ance ; involving as it does the whole subject of the nature of that
illumination to which Swedenborg lays claim, and the relation of
his philosophical to his theological or illuminated writings.
A brief answer, we think, may be formulated thus : — It is not
the knowledge of Correspondence that is revealed or supernaturally
discovered, but the knowledge of the things that correspond.
Like the science of arithmetic, of algebra, and of logic, so the
science of Correspondence is a product of the human reasoning
power. Indeed, Correspondence may truly be called the logic it-
self of the universe, or of creation. But as bare logic or bare mathe-
matics it would be utterly barren of results were there not the field of
* We have here given the doctrine of Correspondence only as exhibited in nature,
or to natural observation. For an adequate statement of the doctrine in its real sig-
nificance and its universal application, the reader should refer to the Author's works
on the Divine Love and Wisdom, the Doftrine of Sacred Scripture, etc.
XVI THE SOUL.
experimental knowledge to which to apply it. This experiments.)
knowledge is afforded in two planes of experience — the physical and
the spiritual. The spiritual experience, or that knowledge derived
from things heard and seen in the spiritual world, was granted to
Swedenborg by Divine permission, and afforded the true, the loftiest,
the final field for the application of those great sciences elaborated
by the long years of such arduous discipline in the schools of nature.
No one is more emphatic and clear than Swedenborg himself in de-
fining this difference between a do<5lrine as a method, and the sub-
stantial knowledge to which that doctrine is applied.* Nor need we
wonder if, when these doctrines as scientific formulae were later
rendered substantial living knowledges, being clothed upon by the
great facts of a spiritual world and the human life of its inhabit-
ants, all former knowledge, even of the doctrines themselves as il-
lustrated in mere nature alone, seemed to Swedenborg as naught,
or as empty shadows. The senses whose phenomena were to be the
field of exploration for the doctrine of Correspondence and Discrete
Degrees were the senses of the spiritual body. By this experience
the nature of the soul was substantially learned in the spiritual
world, but never by Swedenborg in this natural world, or by the
deductions of reason alone. And the soul in its true nature being
there, and for the first time, seen and known, the mode of intercourse
between the soul-world and the matter-world is detected at a glance
by means of this already acquired knowledge of Influx, of Degrees
and of Correspondence.
What, then, is the real gain achieved in the present work?
That even after all his laborious ascent he has failed to attain to any
satisfactory knowledge of the essence of the soul itself, and that
what is advanced is but conjecture and guesses of the reason is vir-
tually confessed by the author in the remarkable utterance in no.
524 of the present work : — " Sed haec in secretis sunt ; non nisi quam
conjeclurae stint ; quis haec vidit, ratio haec solum suadet. Quando
animae vivimus, nos ipsos fortassis ridebimus, quod tarn infantiliter
divinaverimus" But while the substance of the soul still remains
a secret, its mode of intercourse with the body, particularly in the
outer degrees of its life, as well as its actual manifestations in the
conscious acts of the imagination, the intellect, and the will, are here
presented with a fulness and a clearness unsurpassed, if ever ap-
proached, by the psychological writers of any age. The physio-
logical basis of psychology is here presented with the exactness of
mathematical demonstration. The subjects of Innate Ideas, of In-
stinct, of Freedom of the Will, of the Higher and Lower Minds, are
here elucidated in an argument at once so logical and beautiful as
to make the study of these difficult themes a delight.
But even these features are of subordinate value when compared
* See above (page viii.), the quotations from the Economy, beginning with the
words, " But even if it were granted." etc.
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. xvii
with the great chief gain here accomplished in, namely, the author's
clear apprehension of the doctrine of Correspondence, with its re-
lated doctrines of Series, Degrees, of Orders, of Uses, and of Soci-
ety. In these grand logical structures we find laid the foundations
of a truly spiritual science, or of that theology which makes the
knowledge of God a positive knowledge; and this not by material-
izing the Divine, but by illuminating the material and the natural
with a celestial light and actuating these with a Divine imma-
nence.
While contending that it is the knowledge of the things which
correspond that is supernatural in Swedenborg's disclosures, and
not the science of Correspondence itself, we feel that even here it
will be worth our while to distinguish a little more carefully than
has hitherto been the habit of the readers of Swedenborg, between
revelation in its highest sense, as afforded in the opening of the
spiritual senses of the Word, and those knowledges of the spiritual
world " from things heard and seen," which while truly supernatural
cannot in the same sense be called revealed.
It has been customary to allude alike to the author's relations
of " things heard and seen " by him in the spiritual world, and to
his exposition of the internal sense of the Scriptures as matter of
revelation. But between the two classes of truths there is, accord-
ing to the author himself, a marked distinction. Strictly speaking,
it is only those doctrines which, as the author declares, he received
" not from any angel but from the Lord alone while reading the
Word," that is to be called revelation. It is here that truth is
taught synthetically and a priori in the fullest and sublimest sense.
The knowledges, on the other hand, which the author imparts in
his narration of his own experience by virtue of his conscious intro-
mission into the spiritual world and of the things there "heard and
seen ;" these, while in a true sense supernatural knowledges, are
nevertheless knowledges gained by a purely experimental method,
and therefore as strictly inductive and analytic as the knowledges
acquired in the pursuit of any branch of natural science. It is this
fact which distinguishes the theology of Swedenborg from all previ-
ous theological writing, in giving it not only a strictly scientific form,
but a positive content, absolutely free from speculative elements.
This twofold character of his writing is indicated in the titles of
his various works; thus that of the Arcana reads as follows: "Ar-
cana Coelestia quae in Scripturae Sacra seu Verbo Domini sunt, de-
tefla ; hie primum quae in Genesi. Una cum Mirabilibus quae -visa,
sunt in Mundo Spirituum et in Coelo Angelorum" The interior
truths of the Word are uncovered (deteftd) ; the things of the spirit-
ual world are seen (visa). In the same way the exposition of the
Book of Revelation in the New Testament is called the Apocalypse
Revealed: Apocalypsis Revelata, in qua deteguntur Arcana quae ibi
praedifta sunt et /taclenus recondita latuerunt." Here again are mys-
teries " uncovered " in the fullest sense of revelation, and these uncov-
xviii THE SOUL.
ered things of the Word are the primary source of that doctrine
which the writer gave to the churches as verily "descending from
God out of heaven." Therefore again in his tract entitled the " New
Jerusalem and its Heavenly Dottrine, from things heard from heaven
(ex auditis e Caeld)," he gives in the introduction this explanation
regarding the doctrine to follow : — " This also is from heaven,
being from the spiritual sense of the Word, which is the same with
the doctrine that is in heaven " (no. 7). And in the " Brief Exposi-
tion of the Doftrine of the New Church, signified 'by the ' New Jeru-
salem ' in the Revelations," in the opening paragraph he says, "The
Apocalypse having been revealed" he is prepared to lay before the
world "a complete view of the doctrine " of the Lord's new church.
In calling attention to this distinction in the contents of Swe-
denborg's spiritual writing, it is not our intention to detract in the
least from the validity of one class as compared with the other ; but
to maintain, even in this upper realm of his labours, the same dis-
tinction-into the analytic and the synthetic, the experimental and
the a priori, or absolute truth, which everywhere characterizes his
researches and his teaching. The ladder planted on earth seems
to lose itself in the dazzling heights of heaven ; but it still remains
a ladder of twofold passage, of ascent and of descent. As from the
body we have climbed to the soul and its substantial world, so from
it again as a new basis of actual experimental knowledge we climb
to those principles of essential truth, love, and life which constitute
that " internal sense of the Word which is in heaven." Thence
there remains but one further vision for the adoring soul — that
which reaches up to Him who is the eternal Word, who in the
beginning "was with God and was God, and by whom all things were
made." And yet it is solely by virtue of this descent all the while
into the author's mind of that truth which he " received from the
Lord alone, while reading the Word," and from no angel and from
no spirit, that his writings acquire their synthetic unity, their a pri-
ori authority, their power and meaning as revelation. We behold
the eye seeing in light the face of its own Creator. We see in all
this splendid accumulation of scientific and philosophic knowledge,
and in this laboriously acquired method, and these subordinated
sciences, the most perfect of instruments capable of being con-
structed out of the elements of human reason, the divinely prepared
organ and the living responsive human agent by which a veritable
science of God was to be made possible to men, and things hitherto
concealed were to be made known. Even in the world beyond
there will still remain the axioms, the necessary assumption, the
truths a priori, the distinct realm of revealed as entirely different
from experimental knowledge, as here; but as truly there will be a
world of actual sensitive life, where knowledge will be acquired by
observation, and the reason will find a higher and nobler field of ex-
ercise than it has ever found in all the heights and depths of nature.
Even in the spiritual world what is revealed remains forever distincl
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. xix
from what is "heard and seen." It were possible for any man,
should God permit, by the opening of his spiritual senses to have
conscious knowledge of the spiritual world, as was the case with the
prophets and evangelists, with Paul and with Swedenborg. What
they might communicate of things heard and seen in that world
might seem to us indeed, and might worthily be called, a supernat-
ural, a miraculous kind of knowledge; and yet it would consist of
things wholly within the scope of human observation and discovery,
although of an extraordinary kind. Not such is that knowledge of
truth revealed which can come but from one source alone — the
Word, and God speaking through it to the mind worthy and capa-
ble of receiving such a revelation. The relation of Swedenborg's
scientific or inductive writings to his theological writings finds its
explanation, therefore, in the more subtle but similar relation borne
by his descriptive to his doctrinal, theological writings. In the one
we have the truths in the inductive or ascending order; in the
other in their deductive order, and descent from principles to appli-
cation and corroboration.
The ultimate knowledge, the ultimate discovery, is after all
alone in God and from God. As all life is from Him alone, so is
all truth and all knowledge ; and therefore in one sense all knowl-
edge is revelation. But while we are allowed to procure some
knowledges from without and "as of ourselves," in order that we
may enjoy that individuality and personality essential to our having
any moral and rational quality, there are other knowledges that
can be given us only in that revelation wherein God manifestly
speaks, and human sense and human reason listen and obey. So
are we kept mindful of God and of our own insufficiency, lest we
too should desire to "become as gods, knowing good and evil." So
is the vista ever opening above us, inviting us to endless aspiration,
longing, hope, and adoration.
That Swedenborg fell short of his quest in failing to find in
nature the real quality and substance of the soul is true ; but this
is a truth in which he and the world have reason to rejoice. Had
he reached that shore too soon, there would his career have
stopped. While the soul, like an undiscovered continent, remained
still hidden from view, here in this stupendous series of works the
great ship was being constructed which was indeed at last, over
waters all unknown, to carry the bold navigator thither. In this
ship, the sublime doctrine of Correspondence, by favoring winds of
heaven he was carried to the great world of spiritual substance and
spiritual life ; and thence by the same vehicle, so wondrously con-
structed, he has brought to men an intelligible account of this new
and interesting realm, and enabled them to read the deep arcana,
hitherto hidden but now revealed, which lie equally in all things of
nature and in the Word of God.
Finally, Has the science of to-day aught to learn from the lesson
of Swedenborg's heroic labours and their result ? Is it the lesson ol
XX THE SOUL.
a sublime tragedy, of a vast hope crushed, of a magnificent struct-
ure which fell because of its too near approach to the skies ? In
other words, Shall we regard the stupendous scientific and philo-
sophic achievements of Swedenborg as of no worth, seeing that they
failed to bring him to his desired goal — a true knowledge of the
soul ? Far otherwise do we read the lesson of these pages. The
utterance they give forth is that of cheer and of hope. They speak
alike for the science of to-day as for that of a century ago, the glo-
rious promise of a reward to be reached higher even than that
sought for ; of an end whose realization, only blindly striven for in
the ascending ladders of knowledge, finally fills and illumines all the
subordinate science with a light, a warmth, a beauty inconceivable
before. For all truth is one ; and human science on every plane is but
the enfolding of the higher and diviner forms of truth in those which
are lower and more within the grasp of man's varying intelligence.
Every scientific fa<5l and every true philosophic deduction is a stone
laid and a scaffold raised for the building of that great temple in
which humanity is yet to worship its Creator and its God. Into this
natural knowledge, as into "all manner of precious stones," the
light of Divine revealed truth shall flow; and thus the glory of God
shall lighten the whole domain of the human intellect. The scien-
tists of to-day, with their careful elaboration of the fa<5ls of sensuous
knowledge, are building wiser than they know ; their own aims, the
particular theories they seek to establish, are of minor account —
they are the baubles placed before the child to induce it to walk.
Even the selfish incentives of pride and glory are useful in stimu-
lating minds otherwise idle and sluggish to great achievements.
How much more so shall be the sincere love of truth for its own
sake, and the desire of a genuine advancement of humanity which
inspire the minds of many of our greatest thinkers and workers!
As in the case of Swedenborg, the Divine wisdom knows how to use
for its own ends, which are the final elevation and blessing of man-
kind, these results of human research and study. Not only is the
earth thereby made new, but there are created also new heavens, in
which righteousness shall dwell, and in whose society and kingdom
of uses man shall realize the end of his creation and the true glory
of God.
FRANK SBVTALL.
UKBAMA. OHIO, Oft aa, 1886.
LATIN EDITOR'S PREFACE. xxi
PREFACE OF THE EDITOR OF THE LATIN EDITION.
The original manuscript of this posthumous work, which with
two others I was enabled by the liberality of the Royal Academy at
Stockholm to borrow in the year 1848, was thus described by the
learned librarian of that institution :
"This book, which is in Swedenborg's own handwriting, contains 130
leaves fol. max. On the back it has the title (printed by the binder) 'Physio-
logica et Metaphysical and it bears the same title also in the old manuscript
catalogue of our library. Folio no is wanting, which makes it doubtful
whether this Dissertation on the State of the Soul, etc., is complete, or not.
For the same reason, the heading and beginning of the next Dissertation,
which is contained on folios 111, 112 (page iv.), are wanting The re-
mainder of this book, from folios 118 to 127 (page xx.) is occupied by a Dis-
sertation which has the title ' Ontology ' prefixed to it, at the head of folio
118. From the commencement of this Dissertation, certain subjects are
considered in general, and are afterwards treated severally under various
heads As for the manner of treatment, the opinions of Wolf, Baron,
and others, are for the most part stated first, and the author's own opinion
then given, or at least intimated. But like many other things contained in
Swedenborg's MSS., this Ontology is not complete, being only a sketch,
which the author proposed to develop afterwards. The whole book is closely
written, and in some parts in a cramped hand, and will be difficult to read
and decipher."
According to the vote of our Society (the Swedenborg Associa-
tion, founded 1845) which is the patron of these three publications,
we have omitted in the present treatise the attached folios 118-127,
inscribed Ontologia. The chapters of this omitted Dissertation are;
(I.) Form, Formal Cause; (II.) Figure; (III.) Organ, Structure;
(IV.) State, Mutations of State; (V.) Substance; (VI.) Matter, Ma-
terial; (VII.) Extent, Extension, Continuous, Contiguous, Part;
(VIII.) Body, Corporeal; (IX. Essence, Essentials; (X.) Attribute;
(XI.) Predicate; (XII.) Subjea; (XIII.) Atfedion ; (XIV.) Accidents;
(XV.) Contingents; (XVI.) Modes, Modification.*
* This valuable Dissertation is now accessible to the English reader, having been
translated and published in the year 1880, in a volume entitled " Ontology ; by
Emanuel Swedenborg. From a Photolithographic copy of the Original Latin Man-
uscript still preserved in the Library of the Academy of Science at Stockholm.
Translated by Philip B. Cabell, A.M., Professor of Ancient Languages in Urbar.a
University. Philadelphia : J. B. Lippincott & Co., 1880."
THE SOUL.
We have given this work the title " On the Soul" and also desig-
nated it as "Part VII. of the Animal Kingdom," because it forms a
supplement to that work, and the Author himself, according to the
index prefixed by him to that work, intended to treat in " Part XVI.,
Concerning the Soul and its State in the Body, its Intercourse, its
Affeflion, its Immortality ; also concerning its State after the life of
the body."
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. xxiii
AN INTRODUCTORY ESSAY ON SCIENCE AND THEO-
LOGY IN THE WRITINGS OF SWEDENBORG.
The one desire and aim manifest throughout all the scientific
and philosophical writings of Swedenborg may be described in
brief as his Search for the Soul.
This is indicated in the fragmentary treatises On The Soul
which frequently occur throughout the series of his works, and
is manifest in the projected scheme of his works outlined in his
prologue to the Regnum Animate. There The Soul forms the last
of thegreat series. The subject is to be approached slowly, by
arduous steps; reverently and in awe of its sublimity, but with
eager and never flagging desire.
This desire was executed, to the extent of the scientific and phil-
osophic resources of human knowledge, in the De Anima, or Ra-
tional Psychology, — the work on The Soul with which Swedenborg
concluded his great career as a scientist, and summed up the results
of his labours in the fields of natural, physiological and psycholo-
gical science.
In this search for the soul we find what we may call the key to
the genetic development of all of Swedenborg's system. I say de-
velopment, because this implies a unity in what precedes and fol-
lows, and a shaping of final results by certain interior ends, even
though these be unconsciously entertained. The process is like
that of nature, which, itself unconscious, conceals the most pro-
found, definite and unerring purpose.
To know the nature of spirit and its relation to matter, — but
especially through, first, "a knowledge of the soul and of its in-
tercourse with the body," was the twofold objec~l of our author's
constant search.
If we now regard the " body " in the light of the larger body, the
natural world, and the "soul " as meaning the larger soul, the spir-
itual world, the "knowledge of the soul and its intercourse with
the body" becomes identical with that of the spiritual world and
its relation to the natural world. This occupies a prominent place
in his later theological writings.
Where did Swedenborg seek this knowledge of the soul? In
the soul's own realm — the Soul-Kingdom, Regnum Animale ; in
the living, not dead, human body ; in the kingdom of uses as ex-
hibited in the beautiful order, harmony and activities of the human
anatomy and physiology.
XXIV THE SOUL.
The animal kingdom meant to him the kingdom of the anima
the realm over which the soul presides as queen. The relation of
this soul to its body or its own kingdom and world was what
Swedenborg sought to know. The knowledge which he obtained
was that which pre-eminently qualified his mind to be the recipient
of the great knowledge of the true nature of spirit, and the relation
of the spiritual to the natural world. Through its influence upon
his contemporary, Kant (see Kant's Inaugural Dissertation; De
Mundo Sensibili et Mundo Intelligibili ; also Professor Vaihinger's
Kant-Commentar, vol. ii. ; Archiv fur Geschichte der Philosophiet
Berlin, 1895 ; Professor Heinze's Observations on Kant's Leftures
on Metaphysics in Abhandl. Sachs. Gessellsch. der Wissenschaften
Leipzig, 1894, etc., etc.), Swedenborg's doctrine of the Two Worlds
may be said to have formed the basis of modern transcendental
psychology, or of that phase of modern idealism which accords to
the spiritual and supernatural a substantial and causal existencs
distinct from matter.
When, now, we consider what a stupendous role this doctrine of
the human body and its soul is called upon to perform in the doc-
trine of the Divine Humanity, of heaven and of the order prevail-
ing there, we begin to realize the providential significance of these
scientific treatises, and see in what basic relations these sciences
stand to the whole realm of spiritual doctrine. And since the
body can be studied only in its own environment, or as a part of
that great extended body which is the entire elemental universe,
therefore to this ultimate basis of all extended Swedenborg's ex-
haustive survey and the grasp of his mighty system, as witnessed
in the work on Chemistry (1721) and the Principia (1734).
The doctrine of Correspondence was derived by Swedenborg
first naturally, that is, as a science ; it was a deduction of his own
reasoning regarding the elemental relations of the universe, a part
of his own philosophy, as was the doctrine of Order, Series, Degrees
and Modifications on which it rests. (See An. King, ii., 50, 51, 250.)
This is unmistakably apparent from his own statement, and from
the repeated applications of, and references to, these sciences in his
Animal Kingdom and elsewhere, especially in his Introduction to
the Rational Psyschology, and in that work itself.
The doctrine of Correspondence became manifest to Sweden-
borg in his search for the mode of the soul's intercourse with the
body. It was right here, in the human soul's own province, in the
relation of our souls to our bodies, that Swedenborg found the key
which should solve the problem of the ages and open our minds to
a truly heavenly knowledge of the relation of the spiritual to the
natural world, of spirit to matter, of earth to heaven, of the Written
Word to the eternal and essential truth, and of man to God.
Correspondence in its first sense meant to Swedenborg the cor-
respondence of the body to its surrounding spheres, and thence of
the soul within to the surrounding body.
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. xxv
The history of the doctrine of Correspondence carries us back
to the origin of philosophy among the Greeks, and especially brings
into prominent notice the relation of Swedenborg and Aristotle.
The historic antecedents of the doctrine of Influx, or the Inter-
course of the Soul and Body Swedenborg himself has outlined in
several of his theological works, especially in his little but wonder-
ful wdrk De Commercio, etc., or the Intercourse of Soul and Body.
Swedenborg, as no other writer, deserves the proud title of the
Aristotle of modern philosophy; and yet while himself assigning to
Aristotle the highest place in all the line of great teachers, calling
him the " prince of philosophers," and by the almost endearing
title of "our philosopher," he does not hesitate to differ from him
on the important question of the intercourse of mind and matter,
on philosophic grounds, and later from the standpoint of revealed
knowledge. The three systems of Psychology which had chiefly
occupied the learned world before his time were represented by the
three philosophers seen by Swedenborg in the spiritual world as
related in the work De Commercio, viz. : Aristotle, Descartes, and
Leibnitz. These three systems sought to explain the relation of
mind and matter, that is, to solve the one great problem which, as
we have said, Swedenborg had set before himself, and to the solu-
tion of which the whole philosophical series of his works is de-
voted. These three systems are known as those of
I : Physical Influx.
II : Occasional or Spiritual Influx.
Ill: Pre-established Harmony.
These three Swedenborg sought to reconcile by extracting and
combining the gist of truth in each ; and the resultant doctrine he
named the doctrine of Correspondence, a doctrine which rests
upon the equally philosophical and scientific doctrine of Series,
Orders, Degrees and Modifications. Correspondence, as seen in the
plane of nature, is the mutual adaptation of inner and outer, higher
and lower, grosser or more subtle, spheres or bodies, so that there
may be reception and communication and transference of motion
without commingling or confusion of bodies. It is, therefore, the
name we give to that kind of intercourse which may exist between
things necessarily and perpetually discrete. It is that intercourse
which is not material influx, but a mode or avenue for the influx of
force. It is intercourse by contiguity and not by continuity or con-
fusion of substance.
Such a correspondence in nature is the relation of the wave of
ether and its spiral motion to the eye as the organ of vision ; then
of the eye to the sensory fibre within ; then of the sensory fibre to
the cortical gland; of the cortical gland to the inner common sens-
ory of the imagination; of the imagination to the intelledtory; of
the intellectory to the soul ; of the soul to God. By correspondence
the inner may affett the outer -withoitt commingling or becoming one
XXVI THE SOUL.
with it. By correspondence things totally different in degree or
substance are nevertheless so adapted that motions in the tremu-
lous vibrations in one may be continued through the other, and so
cause and effect be made possible by contiguity, since the prolonga-
tion of effect or its retrocession on its own plane never converts it into
its own cause.
This doctrine of correspondence learned by Swedenborg from
the human body and its relation to the soul was afterwards applied
by him to all things material and spiritual, and thus to the natural
and spiritual worlds.
If this be true, what then is " revealed " in Swedenborg's writ-
ings, or what is there that is not after all the outcome of purely
human reasoning and philosophy? Does it follow that what
Swedenborg has delivered in his theological writings as a divinely-
revealed science is after all reducible to a purely natural and scien-
tific knowledge, seeing that in the doctrines of Degrees and of Cor-
respondence as set forth in the philosophical works, Swedenborg
laid no claim to any supernatural illumination as their source, and
yet on these doctrines rests the whole scheme of the spiritual meta-
shysics embraced in his theological works? The answer to this
question is of the greatest importance, involving as it does the
whole subject of the relation of Swedenborg's scientific and philo-
sophical to his theological writings.
We think it possible to formulate an answer in these words. It
is not the knowledge of Correspondence that is supernatural or re-
vealed, but the knowledge of the things that correspond ; it is not
the knowledge of Discrete Degrees that is supernatural or revealed,
but the knowledge of the things that compose those degrees. (That
the knowledge of Degrees was a philosophical knowledge, see Ani-
mal Kingdom, i., no. 10, ii, 133; ii., no. 333.)
Swedenborg thus speaks of Correspondence after his illumina-
tion. In A.C., no. 1523, he states that
" The ear corresponds to the air and to sound ; the eye is formed cor-
respondently to the modifications of the ether and light ; and all the organs
and viscera correspond to the things which are in nature."
In A.C., no. 5131 :
"There is a correspondence of sensuous things with natural ones ; of
material things with spiritual ones ; of spiritual with celestial ones ; of
celestial things with the Lord ; there is a succession of correspondence
from the Divine down to the ultimate Natural. It is known from philo-
sophy* that the end is the first of the cause, and the cause is the first of
the effect.
" The effect must correspond to the cause and the cause must correspond
to the end, and as they correspond, the end can be in the cause and actu-
* The allusion is probably to the doctrine taught by Aristotle in his Meta-
physics regarding the four elements involved in a thing's existence, viz. : the first
cause or end; the instrumental cause; the form; the matter: all of which are
united or make one in the effedl. (Physicorum, lib. ii., 7).
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. xxvii
ate it, and the cause can be in the effect and actuate it; consequently the
end through the cause can actuate the effect. Everything in man and
nature is successive, like cause and effect, and when they thus correspond
to each other they act as one."
Compare this doctrine with the scientific statements on the
Intercourse of the Soul with the Body, in the work on The Soul,
chap. xii.
At the close of the philosophical period of Swedenborg's writ-
ings, the soul, like an undiscovered continent, remained, it is true,
still hidden from his view, but the great ship that was to carry the
bold navigator thither was built and with supreme human skill by
his marvelous mind, secretly guided by the Divine hand ; on that
ship of the sublime science of Correspondence, by the favouring
winds of heaven he was carried to the great new world of spiritual
substance and spiritual life ; thence by the same vehicle he has made
intelligible to us this new and interesting country and enabled us to
read the deep arcana, hitherto hidden but now revealed, which lie
equally in all things of nature and in all things of the Word of God.
That the relation of the scientific to the theological system is
genetic, or that of an orderly growth and development, is perhaps
the most wonderful of all the aspects of Swedenborg's teachings.
It is the most perfect illustration and corroboration of his wonder-
ful doctrine of Discrete Degrees. His science is not theological;
his theology is not scientific; and yet they are related by a perfect
correspondence. So far was he opposed to any a priori system of
science, that is, to a science constructed to suit or prop up some pro-
spective theory of philosophy, that he would not trust to his own
experiments in natural science but used those instead of other ac-
cepted authorities of his time. His inductions were his own ; he
pursued his search according to the " thread of reason " (secun-
dum ducem Intelleflum seu pilum rationis," Adv. \., p. 7), and rever-
ently shrank from giving the name of divine revelation to any of
these results of his own investigations. That his science was not
only not built with the conscious intention of furnishing a substruct-
ure to his theology, but was in some particulars in actual conflict with
the later teaching from revelation, in those realms where it trans-
cended nature and presumed to construfl a system of spiritual sci-
ence, is evident from what the work on The Soul teaches regarding
the condition of the soul after death ; as, that it has no particular
form, but may assume any form, or that it may take wings and fly
as a bird, or assume any other shape suited to its imperial and
sovereign desire, being free from all limitations of nature or natural
heredity (see The Soul or Rational Psychology, no. 521, 522). Notice
also what he says in this work about the final consummation of the
world and the purging fires which shall finally sever the soul from
the last entanglements of the body. These are instances where his
science undertook to be prophetic. That these predictions were
regarded by Swedenborg himself as outside the realm of pure science.
XXVlii THE SOUL.
and thus as forming no part of his own system as a science, is evident
from his remark in no. 524 of the same work, " that we shall proba-
bly laugh in the other world at the guesses we have here indulged
in about the future state of the soul." Had he been the usual sort
of natural philosopher he would have insisted on having his subse-
quent theological system harmonize with these predictions. Not
so in the case of a veritable seer. When the curtain fell revealing
to his vision the real spiritual world, the world which is the inner
or spiritual world of this human world of ours, he saw the soul in its
truly human aspects and entirely relieved of those habiliments which
it had inherited from pagan philosophers and mediaeval schoolmen.
"Man after death is a spirit in perfect human form" he says, "such
as it had in this world." The " end of the world," he tells us now,
when speaking as the inspired interpreter of the holy Word, is the
consummation of an age of human experience introductory to anew
spiritual dispensation among mankind. This blank contradiction
of his own statements, written within a space of, say, five years, is
convincing proof that whatever relation exists between his scientific
and theological writings it is a strictly natural, and not a contrived
or purposed one. Swedenborg neither constructed a science with
a view to building thereon a theology nor did he adapt his theology
to a previously constructed science. Each system stands in its own
plane ; and the agreement between them is that of the correspond-
ence which is between things of natural growth, i. e., the agreement
of truth appearing in several planes of divine order. As the science
is not theological so the theology is not scientific. The science
rests on its basis of reason and experiment; the theology on its
basis of revelation in the Word ; the two do not agree by fusion,
but they do agree by the correspondence that exists between the
discrete degrees of things in their divine order.
The result of this agreement is that the warfare between science
and religious faith is at an end, as it never could have been except
for this truly wonderful providential reconciliation. In the natural
course of things as they tended, except for this, theology had
got so out of touch with science that men who loved natural truth
and sought for a deeper knowledge of the wonders of nature were
almost driven to the rejection of revealed religion. The only re-
course for theology was to lose itself in politics or in sociology or
occultism, and so in the guise of purely natural science still keep its
hold on the attention of men, if even meanwhile it was losing their
reverence and their respect. At the same time science might be
posing as the sacred vestal in the temple of truth, and claim to be
the only object of real reverence or worship still left to man. In
Swedenborg the normal order and the complete trine of mental life
is restored. Science, Philosophy, Theology; the study of effects,
of causes, of ends; each of these finds itself unhampered by the
cramping of any human system, and at the same time placed in a
purely harmonious relation to the other two. The secret of univers-
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. xxix
ality has been reached, by which principles of the utmost simplicity
and clearness open paths of application to an infinity of details.
The earth remains the solid tangible and durable earth as of
old, but it glows with a new light and beauty when seen through
Swedenborg's lens, sub specie aeternitatis. Heaven, the mundus
tntelligibilis of Kant's Inaugural Dissertation, is not an unhuman
and unreal world, it is only the one world " seen with another
vision." Nature, Spirit, God, are to these respective planes of
knowledge and faith the distinct but harmonious elements of the
trinal unity of the One.
FRANK SEW ALL.
WASHINGTON, D. C, December, 1899.
XXX AUTHORS PREFACE.'
AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
It has been my purpose studiously to investigate the
nature of the soul and the body, and their intercourse; and
also the state of the soul in the body, and its state after
the life of the body. But in order to attain the end the
means must also be sought ; and while I was meditating
in what way I might proceed, whither I should look, in
what way I must direct my course as to the goal, I at
length became aware that there is no other field of ex-
ploration than that of the anatomy of the organic body of
the soul. For in this she disports herself and runs her
course ; and for what she is, in her own field, she must be
inquired after in her own domain.
For this reason I have treated first of all of the blood
.and the heart, and at length of the particular organs and
viscera of the body ; then of the cerebrum, the cerebel-
lum, the medulla oblongata, and medulla spinalis.
Supported by these investigations I may now make fur-
ther progress. I have pursued this anatomy solely for the
purpose of discovering the soul. If I shall have furnished
anything of use to the anatomic or medical world it will be
gratifying, but still more so if I shall have thrown any
light upon the discovery of the soul. For the body itself,
and especially the human body, and all its organs and
members, are so wonderfully harmonized that nature has
here brought together and infused all her art and science
and whatever is inmostly concealed, so that if one desires
to investigate nature here in her supreme and inmost re-
cesses, he must explore these particulars ; and the longer
he lingers the more wonders and mysteries are brought
THE SOUL. xxxi
to light, and if thrice the age of Nestor were his, they
would still be unexhausted. It is like an abyss, and only
wonder remains at last. Thus in order to explore the
soul, I must unroll these manifold coverings which hide
her — as though residing in their midst — from our view.
I must proceed by the analytic way, or from experience
to causes, and through causes to principles ; that is, from
posterior to prior. This and no other way is granted us
for the attainment of the science of the higher grade. As
soon as, therefore, by this way, we shall have arrived at
genuine principles, then first may we proceed by the
synthetic way, or from priors to posteriors, which is the
way of the soul herself, acting in her own body. This is
the angelic way, for then they see from the prior or first
things, all posterior things as subject to themselves.
Therefore, before I treat of the soul synthetically, or a
priori, or from first principles, it is necessary that I ac-
quire experience and effects by this human or analytic
way through posterior things, or by that ladder which
leads us up to those principles and to that heaven.
Hence to mount to the soul is only possible through
those very organs by which she herself descends into the
body — thus only through the anatomy of her body. But
still it was not permissible to pass over from the organic
and natural body to the soul, or to the spiritual essence,
which is also immaterial, unless I might first lay down
some way which should lead me thither. Therefore, 'I
have been obliged to work out certain new doctrines,
such as the doctrine of forms, the doctrine of order and
degrees, the doctrine of correspondences and of represent-
atives, and finally the doctrine of modifications, — doctrines
hitherto unknown ; which are the companions and leaders
without whom we shall attempt this passage in vain.
Concerning these we have written in the Fifth Treatise, or
in our Introduction to a Rational Psychology.
And so now at length we may treat of the soul from
principles, or synthetically. The learned world, from the
xxxii AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
earliest ages up to the present time, when that which
has been so long conceived is now to be put forth and
born, has laboured constantly after this attainment to first
principles. For this have existed all sciences, both phi-
losophical and physical ; for this has been tried every
experiment which might afford illustration. Here cul-
minates the desire of the world of learning, whether it
be that we may speak from genuine first principles, and
treat synthetically of posterior things ; for such are
angelic perfection and celestial science, and the highest
natural science, and such is therefore the innate ambition
of us all ; or that we may emulate the integrity of our
first parent, who from prior determined all posterior things,
and thus not only saw universal nature beneath himself
but even commanded her as his subject. For it is the
pride of erudition to judge of effe6ls from principles. Hence
it appears how much is involved in attaining to true prin-
ciples, which can by no means be done except in so far as
these be learned by the posterior way, or that of the
senses, and of the sciences and arts which are human ;
these, however, are not of the soul itself, in which, never-
theless, they are all grounded, and from which they flow.
But the way from experience, through the sciences
both physical and philosophical, to prior things and prin-
ciples themselves, is not only an arduous one but most
lengthy ; nor is one field only, but many, to be explored.
More than the ages of Nestor are needed ; for there will
constantly occur such things as will confuse the mind and
persuade it to feel as the sense impresses it. Then it
believes it has grasped a thing accurately because it oper-
ates according to the testimony of the senses, which
reasoning is just so full of hypotheses and errours. Nay,
such is the higher nature that it is the more hidden from
us in the degree that we consult the senses. For the
sense darkens the mind the more its rays are concentrated
upon it. The senses are themselves as so many shadows,
so that it seems as if the light itself of the sight and of
THE SOUL. XXxiii
the imagination fled away, that we may plunge into these
shadows ; and the shadows become lighter in the degree
that we can dispel the rays [of sense].
For they are, as it were, of another sphere of light ; and
thus can the light of [physical] sight and of intelligence
mutually extinguish each other. Wherefore also some of
us do not love the light of wisdom because it dims the
light of the imagination, according to the saying of Plato.
Therefore I have laboured with the most intense desire that
I might transcend from the one to the other ; and there-
fore, kind reader, if you will deign to follow me thus far, I
believe that you will perceive what is the soul, what is
its state in the body, and what after the life of the body.
But the path is difficult. Only may my companions not
abandon me midway ; but if you will leave me, I pray
nevertheless that you will grant me your favour, and this
you will do if you are persuaded that the end before me
is the glory of God and the public good, and nothing
whatever of selfish' gain or applause.
THE SENSES.
I.
THE SIMPLE FIBRE, THAT IT is CELESTIAL IN ITS
NATURE.
(i.) The successive formation of the blood vessels from the
simple fibre*
The simplest fibre is the form of forms, or that which
forms the other fibres succeeding in order.
The simplest fibre by its circumflexion forms a certain
perpetually spiral surface or membrane which is itself
the second, the medullary or nervous fibre of the body,
and is simply a little channel constructed from the simplest
fibre, but together with the fluid which permeates it, con-
stituting a fibre.
This fibre, therefore, because it descends from the
prior, or is the prior fibre thus convoluted, and therefore
nothing else than the simple fibre itself, flows by a spiral
or perpetually circular flux.
This fibre, when it falls into the provinces of the body,
again forms a kind of little gland not unlike the cortical,
from which proceeds the bodily fibre, and this forms the
little tunic which infolds the arterial vessels.
The fibre further descends into the greater arteries,
and there also forms glands which again send out fibres
* This chapter gives in outline the results of the author's elaborate discussion of
the Fibre in the Economy of the Animal Kingdom and elsewhere in his works. Con-
cerning the production of the Simple Fibre, its relation to the spirituous fluid and to
the soul, see vol. ii., p. 280, seq, [ Tr.
4 THE SOUL.
from themselves, and from these is produced the muscular
tunic.
Thus the nervous, glandular, tendonous, and muscular
tunics, with the membranous, constitute the arteries and
veins, all and each being formed of fibres.
Thus the blood vessel is produced from the simple
fibre by continuous derivations.
The arterial vessel can accordingly be called the third
fibre, the medullary fibre the second, and the simple fibre
the first.
In this respe6l, also, the first fibre may be called the
first vessel, then the second vessel, and finally the vessel
properly so-called, or the blood vessel.
So with the fluids themselves that flow through them ;
the first vital essence is the supereminent blood,* or that
of the supreme degree ; that which is of the second fibres
is the middle or the purer blood ; and that which is of the
arteries is the blood properly so-called, or the red blood.
Therefore is the simple fibre the proper animal essence.t
the form of forms.
(2.) There is nothing else continuous in the whole body ; or
its whole form is the simple fibre alone.
All that is continuous in the body or essentially
determined,^ that is, formed, is the simple fibre.
For there is nothing in the medullary fibre but the
simple fibre.
There is nothing in the blood vessel but the medullary
fibre.
There is nothing in the whole body which is not
woven together of vessels and fibres.
* Econ. An. King., ii., 49; 217-221. [TV.
t i. e., the proper animating or psychic essence.
* Econ. An. King., ii., 248. [Tr.
THE SIMPLE FIBRE. 5
Even what does not so appear",— as the tendons, car-
tilages and bones, — yet this also experience shows to
have been woven from the vessels and fibres originally.
Thus there is nothing in the entire body but simple
fibre, which is its whole form.
Nor does there enter into it anything continuous of
coherent except the simple fibre, the only continuous
substantial.*
Arguing further, if the simple fibre is an animate pro-
duel: from its first essence, it follows that there is nothing
in the entire animal form going to form it but this essence
itself.
The fluids of various kinds which are in the medullary
fibres and in the blood vessels, as the serous fluids, do not
constitute the form, since the forms consist of fibres ; but
these fluids flow within the fibres and vessels.
(3.) If that essence is the soul, it follows that this
alone is what constitutes the form.
,(4.) The Simple Fibre is of a celestial nature. What the
Body is.
Now, inasmuch as every part or individual of the first
substance is of a celestial form and corresponds to the
substance of heaven or to the first and most universal
aura.f it follows that there is nothing in the simple fibre
which is not a celestial form, and this alone is ruled by
spiritual^ forms.
This form, because it is above other forms, cannot be
touched at all by them, still less can it be hurt ; it is
* Econ. An. King., ii., 280, 281. \Tr.
\ Econ. An. King., ii., 35, 180, 298. \_Tr.
% The author here uses the term " celestial " as referring to the aural or highest
atmospheric heaven, and as inferior to the spiritual or truly supernatural. [ Tr.
6 THE SOUL.
most secure from all injury. How can a compound a6l
upon the simples of which it is compounded ? It is most
remote from them, nor are they dependent upon it.
(5.) This fibre therefore is not terrestrial, as Aristotle
teaches, but of a celestial nature, essence and form.
(6.) Hence it is immortal, nor can it perish, because
it cannot be touched.
(7.) What is terrestrial and corporeal is not the fibre,
but rather that part of the red blood and of the middle
blood in the globule which serve there for an instrumental
cause, in order that the first essence of the blood may
descend in series by successive derivation and be in the
midst of the outmost world ; in a word, that it may con-
stitute the bloods, in which, nevertheless, that celestial
form reigns.
(8.) That from which the bodily blood exists is only
corporeal, nor does it contribute anything to form except
that it runs through these fibres and adapts them so that
they may enter into forms.
(9.) This part or this corporeal is mortal and relapses
to earth when the globules of blood are dissolved ; but
not so the fibre, which of itself passes away, while the
body remains under the form of a corpse.
t(io.) Paradox concerning the Simple Fibre.
• Econ. An. King., ii., 343. \Tr.
t In numbers 10 to 14 the author gives only the titles of subjects treated at length
by him elsewhere, but especially in the MS. known as " Codex 74 — Anatomica et
Physiologica." There the Simple Fibre is treated of in numbers 249 to 297 ; the
Circle of Life in numbers 319 to 327 ; the Arachnoid Tunic in six chapters, numbers
328 to 369 ; and the Diseases of the Fibres in numbers 370 to 561. For information
regarding this MS. and the published portions of it, see Documents concerning Swe-
denborg, by R. L. Tafel, vol. ii., part ii., pp. 866 and 925. See also Oeconomia Regni
Animalis, ex autographo auctoris, etc., ed. Dr. J. J. G.Wilkinson, Londini, 1847. [ Tr.
THE SENSES. 7
(ll.) Concerning the Universal Circulation of the Fluid of
the Body, or the Circle of Life. Concerning the Per-
petual Solution and Composition of the Blood.
(12.) Concerning Diseases of the Fibres.
(13.) Concerning the Derivation of the Diseases of the Ani-
mus into the Diseases of the Body, and vice versa.
(14.) Concerning the Arachnoid Tunic.
THE SOUL.
II.
THE SENSES.
(15.) The external organs of the senses, as the ear and the
eye, are instruments of the modifications of the air
and of the ether, and these modifications are the
principal causes to which as to mediate organs the
sensations exactly correspond.
As to the ear, this is the instrument which receives the
modulations of the air; for it receives and applies to itself
every form and mode of the forces flowing to it. The
same is true of the eye in relation to the ether. The ear
in this respect differs from a musical or acoustic instrument
in that it not only receives but also sends out and further
extends the sounds. So does also the eye differ from op-
tical instruments. The eye is, indeed, like a camera obscura,
which reproduces most exactly the images transmitted
from the object opposed, without changing them into
other forms and other colors. But in the eye these modi-
fications do not simply pass over to the retina ; the oper-
ations of the eye excite the essential determinations to
acting likewise even to the least retina, from which through
the optic nerve the same sight is propagated to the com-
mon sensory. Thus the sensations correspond exactly to
the modifications of the organs. Likewise in taste and
smell ; for the external form of the parts, which is gen-
erally either round or prickly, affects the papillae of the
tongue or nostrils ; the organ is affected by these touches,
which are innumerable, and thence a similar sense re-
sults.
THE SENSES.
(r6.) The sensory fibres leading to the common sensory
are exactly accommodated to the form of the
modifications flowing in and affecting them ; thus
the sensations flow by a natural spontaneity from
• the circumfluent world through the fibres in the
animated world even to the Soul.
In the inquiry as to what is the form of the modifica-
tions of the air and of the ether we are led to conclude
from experience that there can be no other modification
of form than that of the form of the parts. For the vol-
ume is composed of the parts, and if the parts are change-
able a like condition ought to result in the whole volumen
of what is set in motion as in the single parts, which are
so many symbols of the common motion. The form of
the modifications of the ether is spiral or perpetually cir-
cular, and that of the modifications of the air is simply
circular ; for such are the external forms of the parts, as
may be demonstrated by numberless proofs. If it be asked,
then, what is the form of the fluxions of the fibres, it has
been proved in the treatise on the Fibres that the form
of the fluxions of each compound fibre is spiral, and that
the form of the fluxions of many fibres taken together is
circular ; thus the one form exaftly corresponds to the
modifications of the ether and the other to the modifica-
tions of the air. But the form of the higher ether is vor-
tical, and this corresponds to the substantial form of the
spiral glandule. Thus when modifications of the auras flow
into the miniature world, or the animal system, they con-
tinue their flow in a similar nature, nor are their essential
determinations changed.
(17.) The sensations are carried from the external organs to
the internal organs as if from a heavy to a lighter
atmosphere, or from a lower to a higher region.
10 THE SOUL.
Light bodies are raised from the centre toward the
the surface and emerge, but those which are heavy fall to
the centre and seek the bottom. So do sensations strive
from the outermost to the innermost or from the lowest
to the highest, while actions fall from the innermost to
the outermost or from the highest to the lowest. Thus
sensations may be compared to the lighter and a<5lions
to the heavier bodies.
The cortical brain holds the inmost and the highest,
for to climb thither is upward, but thence toward the
surface of the body is downward. That the cortex of
the brain also occupies the highest region of the body
may appear from the fibres themselves and their nature ;
the most fluid and the softest fibres are near to the cortex
or to their first source ; those more remote from the cor-
tex are harder and more stationary, and as if being more
compressed, when rising to a softer fibre they rise to the
purer region and vice versa; which also is the reason why
the nerves or the sensory fibres are soft, and the motor
fibres are somewhat harder ; and that the softness increases
according to the ascent.
(18.) The sensations do not arrive at any special glandules
or glandular congeries in the brain but at the
universal cortex, so that there is not a single cor-
tical glandule in the entire brain which does not
become a participant of each sense and of its least
movement, degree and difference.
This the anatomy of the brain declares with sufficient
distinctness, for each nerve and each fibre when it is im-
merged in the medullary lake of the brain, so merges
itself with all the neighbouring ones that all differences
well nigh disappear. For one fold is continually connected
with another, a certain subtile membrane intervening be-
tween every fibre and every vessel and the one next to it,
THE SENSES. II
which membrane joins and binds fibre to fibre and artery to
artery. Those intervening threads in their being drawn out
from the fibre we call the emulous vessels of the fibre. In
these are inserted the most delicate threads drawn from
the pia mater. Thus it may clearly be seen that in the
brain, in the cerebellum and in either medulla there is
nothing whatever that is discontinuous or disjoined ; and
the sensation, which is a most subtle kind of trembling
of a certain atmosphere, is not able to press solely upon
a single fibre, or any particular fibres, as far as to
their origins, but is compelled also to pursue its journey
through all that is continuous from the fibre ; and this
is true as well of the trembling and vibrations of harder
bodies. The same appears from the special investigation
of each sensory fibre ; for the optic nerve diffusing itself in
the beds of the optic nerves cannot help pouring itself
upon the entire circuit of the brain, since the fibres drawn
forth from this circuit and concentrated on a firmer base
unite upon the beds of the optic nerves ; and if the sensa-
tions follow the flux of these they cannot but terminate in
the common surface of the brain. The olfaclory nerves
from the continued pituitary membrane so immerse them-
selves in the oval centre or medullar globe of the brain that
they have their origins from all, for the mamillary pro-
cesses being inflated expand the whole medulla of the brain.
The acoustic or auditory nerves emerging from the annular
protuberance associate themselves with all the fibres
which are sent out from the brain and from the cerebellum.
And so in other instances ; wherefore the ratio of the sens-
ations is the same as that of the modifications : for these
having begun in the least centre diffuse themselves about
into the entire periphery. From these considerations it
follows that there is no part of the cortex which does not
become participant and conscious of the inflowing sensa-
tion.
12 THE SOUL.
(19.) The most distinct sensation exists in the cortex of
the brain, especially the sensation of sight, percep-
tion and understanding.
Where the cortical substances are most delicate and
most expanded, there the sensations should be the more
perfect and distinct ; for that the cerebrum feels, perceives
and understands, but not the cerebellum, is because
the cortical glandules like so many little sensories are
in a state of perceiving modes distinctly. In either pro-
tuberence, or vertex of the brain, that is, in its supreme
lobe, this cortex is distinctly divided ; for an infinite num-
ber of fissures and furrows separate the congeries, by
which means the cortex may be expanded and drawn in
any direction ; so that when the distinction is the more
perfect, there is also the more perfect sensation. This is
the reason, too, why all the convolutions and bendings of
the cortex concentrate themselves in this, or tend hither
by a continuous flux and union. This is observed as
well in outward as in inward intuitions ; we even direct
our contemplations toward this prow of the brain. Also
when this is injured the faculty of clearly seeing and
perceiving is changed according to the degree of injury, as
appears from various diseases of the head. Thus sensa-
tion belongs, indeed, to every cortical glandule, but it is
more perfect in one part of the brain than in another;
for in one it is more particular and single according to
the divisions of the brain, while in another part it is more
general, and hence the sensation is more indistinct and
obscure, as in the lowest layers of the brain and in the
cerebellum.
(20.) No cortical glandule in the whole brain is absolutely
like another, hence neither are the little sensor-
ies similar to each other, which are so many corti-
THE SENSES. 13
cat glandules : but a certain variety intervenes,
which nevertheless is so harmonious that not the
least difference occurs in the mode of any sensation
but what is perceived more perfectly in one gland-
ule than in another.
That there occur infinite mutations of state, both essen-
tial and accidental, of the cortical glandules, which are
so many internal sensories, has been sufficiently demon-
strated in the treatise concerning those glandules. For
there are larger and smaller glandules, harder and softer,
consisting of more or of less fibres ; there are those whose
state is more constricted or more expanded, some asso-
ciate with more some with less ; but to enumerate every
difference would be too prolix. The cortical glandules in
the brain are of one kind, those of the cerebellum are of
another, and those of still another in the medulla oblon-
gata and the medulla spinalis ; also they are of different
species in the brain itself, in its vertex, in its borders, on
the outside near to the pia mater, and on the inside
around the ventricles. All the cortical glandules, the
beginnings of the fibres, the little sensories and motors, are
internal. Now in order that the brain may be free to
receive all sensations and feel every difference, it is neces-
sary that there should be order among its sensories. This
order must be wholly harmonious ; even if one glandule
receives a purer, another a grosser mode, nevertheless
we must communicate the sign of its sensation to the
others as a part to the whole. This is called the har-
monious variety, which is so proper to nature that it de-
serves to be called the nature of nature. Such a variety
exists in the particular fibres, in the particular muscles,
in the single parts of the atmosphere. For similarly are
the lowest atmospheres more compressed than the higher,
in such a way, nevertheless, that between all there is a
certain harmonious variety. Thus the particulars contrib-
ute each its own part to the common and public estate.
14 THE SOUL.
(21.) The sensations diffused throughout the whole brain
are to be conceived of as winding themselves around
in a spiral manner, or according to the form of
motion of a circuit and of the cortical substances ;
and the purer sensations revolve vertically through
the cortical glandule ; hence according to the most
substantial form itself of the sensory organ.
The convolutions of the cortical glandules in the brain
flow into the form of the most perfect spiral ; and because
the sensations touch every point, every fibre, and every
cortex of the brain, hence we must conceive of a similar
circumvolution and whirling motion of the sensations ; for
then an easy fluxion and propagation of these proceeds
from a part into a whole. In the same manner the mod-
ification takes place in each individual cortical gland,
whose form is perpetually spiral or vortical. For every
active force impressed upon an organic substance flows
and is determined most exactly according to the form of
the latter. To flow otherwise would be contrary to the
stream and current of its nature, or contrary to the rota-
tion of its axis. Also the sensation circumgyrates by a
similar form when it follows along its fibre, therefore also
when it emerges from it. So are the forms of a fluxion
and that of its atmosphere or of its modifications similar.
So do the macrocosm and the microcosm mutually cor-
respond, and impress the same modes upon each other.
Such a whirling motion openly appears in the external
organs also, when the mind is inebriated or the brain
affected with a like disease or delirium. From these state-
ments it may appear with what winding about and cir-
cumgyrations the inmost sensation or the understanding
is carried on ; the form of whose fluxion is celestial ; and
so on.
THE SENSES. 15
(22.) We may perceive by ourselves and naturally the
harmony and tJie disharmony of sensations.
That the soul naturally apprehends and is conscious
of every thing harmonious or inharmonious which occurs
to any sense, appears from the phenomena of each sense.
Harmony of touch in the outmost skin tickles and excites
laughter : harmony of taste and smell flatters and grati-
fies the organs in such wise that it creates a pleasure,
sweetness and appetite. Harmony of hearing so pleases
the ear that one smiles at what is heard said : so with
harmony of sight, whence is beauty, comeliness and de-
lights. But disharmonies produce the contrary effect, for
these sadden the soul and the mind, and induce a certain
horror, even hurt, and thence aversions. Even in the
imagination and the thought a similar concord of truths,
which are so many harmonies, is likewise produced by
nature herself without science to direct, and without
art as* a mistress. Thence it comes that those whose
minds are more healthy, and who are imbued with some
knowledge, apprehend natural truths at once, and lend
them their approval ; but that the same truths are op-
posed is the result of a vicious state of their mind. That
the soul perceives the harmony or disharmony of images
and ideas at the first glance appears plainly enough in
the brute animals ; for birds know of themselves how
to ingeniously construct their nests, to choose the food
most proper for themselves, and to avoid what is harmful.
The spider weaves its web with the most perfect geome-
try, not to speak of other instances which are effects of
a natural perception of harmonies. Even the organs
themselves are not only soothed by harmonies and pleas-
ant things, but are also restored by them ; while on the
contrary they are injured by those which are inharmonious.
The reason is that the soul is pure intelligence, and is the
order and truth of its own microcosm. Hence the cog-
nition of order and of truth is a faculty born with us, and
16 THE SOUL.
one that is rarely learned. Neither can the senses other-
wise exist, for in order that there be a sense there must
be the harmonious mixed with the inharmonious ; from
the difference of these and their connections and their
situation arises sensation. In the same way, from com-
mingled truths, fallacies, and falsehoods arise ratiocina-
tion, thoughts, discourse, controversy, opinions. Without
these there would be very little speech, and neither schools
nor sciences ; and the shelves of the libraries would re-
main empty.
(23.) In the same inmost sensory organ the end of the sens-
ations and the beginning of the aflions meet.
The cortical glandule is the last boundary where
sensations terminate, and the first prison-house whence
the actions break forth ; for the fibres, both sensory and
motory, begin and end in these glandules.
Sensations penetrate from the outmost to the inmost ;
but actions run from the inmost to the outmost. Thus
the cortical gland is as well a little internal sensory as a
motory organ, and both active and passive, as are all the
more perfect organic substances. To suffer as well as to
act is the perfection of natural bodies, whence comes
elasticity, and the forces and powers thence resulting.
The superior forms receive every assailing force, and return
a similar. If a comparison be instituted with the sens-
ories here described, sensation itself is the passion to
which a similar action corresponds. The object of the
action may be to determine what is felt into act, or to
represent through the act the idea perceived ; for action
is the actual representation of the idea of the mind. This
is the reason why the perceived idea so quickly breaks
forth into act, as in speech. It would be otherwise if both
action and passion did not meet in one and the same
organ.
THE INTELLECT AND ACTION. 17
IIL
THE INTELLECT AND ACTION.
(24.) IntelleElion, which is the ultimate of sensations, does
not immediately turn itself into will, which is the
primary of aElions, but a certain thought and
judgment intervenes ; thus there are intermediate
operations of the mind which conneEl the last of the
one with the first of the other.
There is a certain progressive series or gyre as intel-
lection passes over into will. Undoubtedly there inter-
venes the thought, which is the last involution of things
perceived and understood, and the calling forth of like
things from the recess of the memory. But the judg-
ing or judgment is the reduction of the things thought
into a certain rational form, those things being cast out
which have nothing to do with the matter in question ;
at length comes the conclusion and so the will. The in-
tellection itself is the first part of the operations of the
intellect, the thought is the second part, judging is the
third, conclusion is the fourth. All of these taken to-
gether are designated by the one word " intellect." But
this gyre is often accomplished with such presence of
mind and velocity that it hardly appears that there are
so many intermediate parts between the first rational
perception and the beginnings of actions. It is sometimes
run through in a single moment. That there is a similar
series of operations in single substances gifted with perfect
elasticity to which the above might be compared, I do not
doubt ; it may be that the elatery of nature, when it is sub-
jected to a force or impetus, resolves and restores itself
18 THE SOUL.
by similar intermediate operations to a similar act, although
it may seem to be instantaneous. But we cannot further
enlarge upon the subject here.
(25.) There is such a connection of the rational perception
or the intellect with the will or the beginning of
actions, that is, of the passion with the action
in one mind, that as the one is so is also the other,
or that a mind deprived of perception is also
deprived of will.
The perception of the mind can be compared with
passion, but the will with action, hence the perfect mind
with the perfect elatery in nature. For it is a faculty of
the elatery that its elastic force is greater as the body is
more compressed ; that the elatery is equal to the com-
pressing force ; that the force of an elastic body is deter-
mined by the actions of the compressing body ; that the
elatery liberated from the compressing force is restored at
once to its former condition ; that the body in which
there is a perfect elastic force, however much it may be
compressed, loses nothing of its own force but always
restores it and puts forth as much as it has itself suffered,
so that a similar force and impetus is diffused into what
is immediately around, and thence into the nearest vicin-
ity, and thence everywhere ; that in the striking to-
gether of elastic bodies the centre of gravity, before the
conflict and after it, is moved with the same rapidity,
when moved at all, so that in the meeting of elastic bodies
the state of the centre of gravity is preserved ; besides
many other things which might be compared with this
organic substance and its rational operation, and might
be explained by correspondences to the apprehension of
the intelligent.
In the meanwhile, that the will is such as is the in-
tellect or the perception appears from the phenomena
THE INTELLECT AND ACTION 19
or the affections of the mind, of the animus, or of the brain.
For the will increases with perception itself in youths
and in adults. When one perishes the other perishes, for
they meet in the same organ. When the brain is injured,
compressed with foreign matter, or disturbed in its order,
not only does sensation become unsteady according to the
degree of injury, but also action, as in loss of memory, in
catalepsy, in lethargy, in sleep, and other conditions.
The reason is, that nothing can be carried into the will
which does not come from the perception ; for the will
is the conclusion of the thoughts, and to it belongs the
power of acting in accordance with the ideas of the
thoughts.
(26.) The first perception cannot be at once transferred
into thought, still less into will, unless some force
accede which incites and promotes ; and that with-
out this exciting and promoting force perception
would at once be extinguished, and with the per^
Cfption the tJiought, the two going hand in hand.
That the first perception is a bare interior sensation
or mere passion follows quite as well from description as
from reflection ; for that the images of sight pass over
through the eye and the fibres of its nerve to a common
sensory or a certain interior sensation, is what is expe-
rienced whenever the eyes are opened. It is the same
with sound and its modulations in the air, with taste, in
the tongue, and smelling in the nostrils, and touch in the
body. But in order that this perception may become a
sensation interior still, and that the rational sensation
which is called intellection may pass over into thought
and from this stage into will, — this cannot take place
without some accessory and stimulating force. What
these forces are which are here added, I will proceed to
state.
20 THE SOUL.
(27.) The first force is the harmony itself and the pleas-
ure and sweetness thence proceeding, which is per-
ceived in the external and internal sensory organs
at the first impression of an object, and which
so affects the animus* and mind, and vivifies the
perception that this cannot help being continued
even into the will.
These facts are clear in themselves. For what is
beautiful and comely at once affects the eye or internal
sight with a certain latent pleasure. At the harmony of
similar sounds, as also the sweetness of taste and odour,
and even the blandishments of touch, the mind is imme-
diately pleased, wherefore its perception is not quiet, but
is at that moment actuated, and calls forth from the in-
most of the memory similar ideas, whence comes thought ;
and this is followed by will.
(28.) A nother force is the love of self-preservation or the
love of self, which kindles the internal sensations,
or, from the first perception even to the last, ex-
cites these sensations into the beginning of action ;
and without the accession of such a force eur intel-
lect would be deprived of its life, and would lan-
guish away.
If we examine interiorly the natural harmonies them-
selves which are first perceived in the sensory organs of
the body, it will appear that these are so many conserv-
ative forces of the body : for not only do they afford
blandishments to the sense, but also they restore what-
ever is defective in them, as may be demonstrated from
many phenomena. For harmonies revive the soul ; the
* The animus is the lower or sensuous mind as distinguished from the mtiu or
intellectual mind (vid. nos. 198. 291, et a/). \Tr.
THE INTELLECT AND ACTION. 21
vernal greenness and various hues of the meadows re-
store the sight, because these exhilarate the arimus.
So also symmetries affe6l the hearing. But the contrary
things offend and bring injury ; hence the body suffers,
and the animus grieves. It follows from this that there
is a certain impelling and active force in the natural har-
monies, because they contribute to the preservation of the
body. The love of self is the first of all the loves of
the soul, of the desires of the mind, and of the cupidities
of the body. All desires of ends proceed thence as though
from their source. There are also loves diverted as streams
from this source, which are excited by particular percep-
tions. These are doubtless so many forces, lives, or heats,
which vivify the operations of the mind, and excite them
even to a6lion. This is the reason why each one is strong
from his own loves and desires, and each one lives from
his own life ; and that those who are deprived of such
loves and desires are also dull of disposition, stupid, and
dry stocks, possessing without doubt a spirit and a
blood equally cold and sluggish.
(29.) From, these loves are born the desires of some end,
which desires are the forces themselves present in
the intellect and in the will.
There is no intellect or rational perception, and there-
fore no thought or judgment, and still less a will which
goes hand in hand with perception, without the intuition
and desire of a certain end. Without this, or without an
end, the will is never determined into a<5l. Wherefore, in
order that there be a will, it is necessary that there be in
it an end which the mind contemplates. But there are su-
perior and inferior ends. The superior ends are those only
of the human mind, nor do they look solely to the preserv-
ation of the body or of self; but they regard the pre-
servation of that society of which the mind forms a part,
22 THE M)UL.
and many other things beside. In place of these rational
ends there are with beasts corporeal ends, the desires of
which are called lusts and pleasures. These ends are
solely for the sake of self-preservation, it may be of the
body simply. Such an end, because it does not descend
from a certain source and principle of reason, prefers the
preservation of self to the preservation of society as a whole.
But we shall treat of these ends hereafter, when treating
of the animus and the mind.
(30.) There is nothing innate in the human mind except a
perception of order and of harmonies and of truths
in forms and in substances, in forces and in modes ;
by which the rational mind is affecled in so far as
they concern the preservation of self. But other
things, even the forms themselves, the substances,
the forces, the modes, the truths, are to be learned
by the aid of the senses ; whence come discipline
and the arts. It is otherwise in the brute animals.
It has been shown above that the harmonies them-
selves are innate with us, or that we perceive them with-
out a teacher ; as the sweetnesses of taste and smell, the
symmetries of sound, the excellencies and beauties of
nature ; in a word, the very order of things or the har-
mony of modes, forces, substances, and forms. Thence
also we may perceive the very truths of things, for these
correspond to the order itself in nature ; and this is the
reason why order is called "the transcendental truth."*
This we clearly perceive in our intellect: ; for we seize
truths as it were at their bare assertion without any dem-
onstration ; and therefore some persons are said to have
in them, as innate, the seeds of virtue and of beauty.
But the form itself and the perfection of the form are
* Compare Kant's Cosmology in the Dialectic of the Pure Reason. [2r.
THE INTELLECT AND ACTION. 23
different things. By way of the senses and of discipline
we have to procure for ourselves, scientifically and ex-
perimentally, the form, but not the very harmony itself
and the order itself of the determinations in the form.
The harmony and the order are natural, because they
agree with the form itself of our organic substances and
of their sensations and perceptions, and thus they allure
them that they may soften, titillate, and pleasantly affect
them ; but the form itself thence resulting is something
to be acquired. This is why the dispute has arisen among
the learned whether ideas are innate in us or altogether
acquired. The same also is proved by the reflection of
our own thought, imagination and speech ; for in order
that there may be thought and speech an infinite number
of things are requisite, which concern order alone, and
this order is so strictly observed and maintained by chil-
dren that the entire Peripatetic and Pythagorean schools
could not in ten years reduce to rules and sciences what
this or that boy brings forth naturally and of himself in
less than a moment's time. We also assent to truths
themselves without any demonstration a posteriori, at
their very first announcement, in so far as there is in
them a natural harmony and one that gratefully affects
the mind. Besides the harmonies, the order, and the
naturally implanted truth, there are also loves which all
proceed from the love of self, although it is from doctrine
alone that it can be known whence these loves proceed,
and of what quality they are. But it is otherwise with
the brute animals. In these there are still more posses-
sions which are innate, be it single ideas themselves, or
forms, modifications, and so on ; for they are born into
their sensations, perceptions and wills ; and they stand
alone as soon as they are put forth from the womb or
the egg.
24 THE SOUL.
(31.) The external senses are very obtuse, gross, and feeble,
and thence fallacious, so that they deceive the in-
ternal senses themselves in innumerable phenome-
na taken for truths and appearing to be truths.
This is because these internal senses penetrate rather
into the causes and principles of things. Where-
fore the science of the senses is purely animal ; but
not such is the science which is rational and truly
human.
There is indeed no other way of knowing and of under-
standing given us than by the sensations or by experience,
that is, by the posterior which is called the analytical
way. For our sensations are perfected first, then the in-
ternal perceptions, and finally the intellect ; the judg-
ment, or the knowledges of the true end, do not come
until late, and in adult life ; and because this way is nat-
ural and alone permitted, we have to depend upon our
observing and collecting of experiments and phenomena
of nature. Thus the optic science is most familiar with the
organism of the eye and still knows no rules except those
derived from science cultivated by experiment ; so with
the acoustics of the ear. The very truths, causes, and
principles of natural things, yea, even of moral things,
must be learned the same way. Although we may be
pleased when objefts present themselves to us, still we
do not know them any more interiorly than we do the
beauty itself of a flower conspicuous for the fair mingling
of its colours and symmetry of its parts. For in the bloom-
ing rose we of ourselves perceive nothing except the
beauty, the order and the truth ; the form itself, what is
its colour, what the relation and position of its parts, — this
it is not possible to explore without the experience of the
senses. For the soul itself, which alone understands the
objects presented to the senses, is itself order, law, and
truth ; thence whatever is agreeable to its reason pleases
it, while other things it shuns and abhors.
THE INTELLECT AND ACTION. 2$
But that there are infinite things which to the senses
appear to be that which they are not, may be seen suffi-
ciently from examples. For instance, it is an appearance
that the sun, stars, and planets are little molecules instead
of earths as large as ours ; that we are absolutely at rest
although our terrestrial globe rotates and revolves around
the sun ; just as it is in a ship in which we seem to be at
rest although within an hour we may be borne away under
full sail some miles from the port. It appears as if the an-
tipodes could not possibly stand on their feet ; as if the
blood did not circulate ; as if the cerebrum did not ani-
mate ; and as if the ventricle did not have a peristaltic
motion. It does not appear to the senses that a certain
fluid flows very swiftly through the least fibres ; or that the
atmospheres are divided into parts, since they seem to be
like waters, either continuous or as nothing. It also seems
to the senses as if there were an attraction, a vacuum, a
single atmosphere, and as if the ray were an atom ; as if
there were no substance ; as if a body very swiftly moved
were continuous ; as if providence, fate, and fortune are
mere happenings of accident ; as if insanity were wis-
dom, fallacy truth, the becoming equally with the unbe-
coming honesty, and vice virtue ; as if license were free
will, pleasures and allurements of the senses the highest
felicity and greatest good. It appears as if art were more
ingenious than nature ; as if philosophers were possessed
of a better common sense than the plebeian world ; and as
if they were the wise who talk more elegantly and are
skilled in languages, and mingle their sharper criticisms,
.or else who keep silence, or express only half the mean-
ing of what is to be understood ; as if we were to estimate
people according to the opinion of others whom we be-
lieve to be possessed of judgment. Infinitely more things
occur in the discriminations of the true and the false, the
good and the bad, the beautiful and the becoming. These
very discriminations, which do not appear to the senses,
we believe to be naught so long as they are concealed,
26 THE SOUL.
be they in reality ever so numerous and striking in form.
So in other instances.
From these things we may conclude that if we have
faith in our senses only, we shall be more like animals
than rational beings, for the brute animals are easily de-
ceived by fallacious visions or by appearances ; and that,
therefore, in the degree that we are the more rational, or
the more truly men, in that degree we shall dispel the
clouds and fallacies of the senses and penetrate clearly
into truths themselves, or enter into causes and principles ;
and the same faith we shall deny to our body, that is, we
shall withdraw ourselves from the shadows of its sensa-
tions. Therefore it is not for man to become wise by
means of the senses or experience alone.
(32.) The soul concurs with every sensation, perception,
and intellection, but so sublimely, universally, and
secretly, that we can scarcely learn what flows
from the soul, and what from the body.
For the senses are what inform the mind, in order that
the rational may hear ; since without the experience of the
senses we can understand nothing. But that we are able
to understand, yea, even the power and faculty of under-
standing, and of reducing the several ideas to their order,
is not a property of the body or of the external senses,
but is of the soul. The soul may be compared with the
light which surrounds the eye ; without the light there
could be no discrimination whatever between the less ^
luminous and the shady, between those differences in
objects whence arise colours and forms. So is the soul
that which pours in a certain light in order that verities
may appear as verities ; while the sensations, on the other
hand, add certain doubtful phenomena, which, as it were,
cast a shadow on the verities ; thence arise ideas and
truths mixed with falsities ; and from these again, opinions,.
THE INTELLECT AND ACTION. 2/
hypotheses, conjectures, discussion, discourse, and speech.
If the bare verities shone forth [unobscured] there would
be no reason and no ratiocination ; for no one could help
acknowledging what another said, and thus one would
feel and think just as the other. Such a state would be
a most perfect one, like that of those souls whose speech
is directed solely to the praise and glory of their deity.
In order, therefore, that there may exist a society of
bodies, it is necessary that our intelligence be mixed and
not pure. But we will treat of this more at length when
we treat of the intellect.
(33.) The causes of both the external and internal sensa-
tions flow universally from hence, that the soul is
conscious of something that agrees or disagrees with
itself : a certain body soothes or aids it, another
pains or injures it ; the one pleases, the other dis-
pleases; by these it is delighted, by those grieved.
Thus all the senses flow from the cause of self-
preservation, and the more interior ones from the
love of self .
The truth of this proposition appears from examination
of the phenomena of the several senses. In the taste we
observe the pungent properties, such as those of the sal-
ine acid,* of urinous and other prickly substances ; and
also those which soothe, such as the sugary and sweet ;
those injure, these delight. From the mixture of the
prickly and the rotund arises the bitter, the sweetness of
wines, and many such flavours. Thence comes so great
variety. The same holds true of the sense of smell, for
this sense takes in a similar variety of parts even more
subtle [than those above mentioned], which fly and flow
about in the atmosphere. The hearing is a sense still
more sublime ; for this perceives only the harmonies and
* See Swedenborg's Principles of Chemistry, London, 1847, p. 113. [TV.
28 THE SOUL.
disharmonies of the modules of the air ; those which are
natural and in agreement are soothing ; those which dis-
agree, such as the disharmonies, produce pain. Likewise
the sight, whose objects are the modifications of the ether
or of the superior atmosphere. These senses come nearer
to the nature of the soul. They recede as it were from
bodily things ; they insinuate themselves as mediators and
messengers into the spiritual. The internal senses, such as
the perceptions and intellections, likewise [exhibit this
law] ; for whatever agrees with their nature and order
pleases, and that which disagrees displeases ; and because
natures are dissimilar, therefore, in order that the nature
of one may never be absolutely the same as the nature of
another, — and indeed, natures in themselves perfect are eas-
ily perverted by the errors and the fallacies of the senses, —
it comes to pass that what pleases one person displeases
another. Still, all the senses flow universally from the
cause of the preservation of one's state and order. For the
soul has provided its body with sensations that it may know
whatever touches its surroundings, in order that it may
be informed most particularly about every change of the
state of its body, which it desires to preserve. But the
internal senses flow from the love of self, for love is spir-
itual even as the soul itself is, and from this cause it seeks
praise, glory, a life of fame, felicity in the body and after
the death of the body ; by the love of all of these things
it is led. These things gratify the mind or are most
grateful to the inmost senses, and chiefly flatter them.
(34.) In the degree that forms are the more perf eft they are
the more grateful and pleasing to the senses, and
vice versa.
In taste and smell all angular* forms are harsh and
displeasing, unless the angles are so disposed that they
* Compare Principles of Chemistry. [7K
THE INTELLECT AND ACTION. 29
may represent some more perfect form and excite some
sense which the mind judges to be conformable and
adapted to restoring the state of the body. This is the
reason why the salty and the bitter often give pleasure,
and the sweet and the aromatic displeasure. But the
more perfect forms, such as the circular and spherical,
which are next to the angular in perfection, and those
still more perfect, naturally please because they are sooth-
ing ; as, for instance, the sweet and sugary substances.
The forms which affect the hearing are chiefly circular,
for such are the forms of the modifications or of the flux-
ions of the particles of the air. These as they more nearly
approach the circular forms are in that degree the more
harmonious and grateful. Still more delightful do they
become as they approach the perpetually circular or the
spiral form, such as the form of the modifications of the
ether, or of vision. But in the degree that they depart
from these harmonies or approach the angular forms so
that they become sharp, prickly, in a word, not rounded,
just so far do they become disagreeable. Likewise with
the sight : as its forms or those of its images become in
and among themselves more perfectly spiral, and in this
way mingled as to light and shade, so are they the more
grateful ; and, indeed, most so as they approach the forms
of the higher or interior sense, namely, that which is per-
petually spiral, the vortical. Then succeed the superior
forms, such as the celestial and spiritual, in which each
part is as it were perpetual, and every thing angular is
cut off and removed. Thus every organ has its own form,
which looks up to a superior and is related to an inferior
one ; and of every form there are infinite changes of state,
and hence arise the infinite varieties of sensation.
30 THE SOUL.
IV.
THE SENSE OF TOUCH.
(35.) The Touch is the lowest and truly corporeal sense,
whose innumerable organic substances are spread
over the entire cuticle and surface of the body, and
taken together constitute the organ of Touch.
Under the skin, within minute folds, as in their own
beds there lie concealed molecular papillae of pyramidal
shape, protected by the epidermis ; they exist in such
numbers that they may be found scattered throughout
the entire cutaneous covering of the body; and not a
point exists anywhere which these do not partially
occupy on the surface ; and when they apply themselves
to receiving a sense, they as it were fill [that point], for
they can be contracted and expanded ; thence they can
draw themselves in or out, and so render the entire skin
sensible with themselves. Thus the organ of touch is not
a continuous one, but concrete, made up of an infinite
number. For every thing continuous is contrary to nature,
since nature is more perfect in the degree that she is
more distinct and singular in her products and composi-
tions. For in the smallest particular nature lies hidden
and thrives as if left to herself; but not in those concrete
things in which her order, form and harmony perishes.*
* The organ of touch is concrete, but preserves the order and harmony of the
particular parts. [ Tr.
THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 3!
(36.) The perfection of the sensation of Touch depends on the
quantity, quality, position and connection of those
organs, that is, on the particular form of each and
the general form of all together, as also on a certain
variety, since no one is absolutely like another ; just
as is the case with the perfection of the cortical
glands, to which these things of the body corre-
spond.
For the papillae, or those organic substances of touch,
are very soft, and are accommodated to every tactile force,
and they withdraw into themselves as soon as touched by
anything that injures or offends, but extend themselves
when they are excited and pleased with the round forms.
Hence they erect themselves or become relaxed exactly
according to the qualities of the shock they receive. As
regards the quantity, the more they are in number the
more minute discriminations and the more subtle dis-
tinctions they recognize. As to quality, the softer they
are the more applicable to every tactile force, hence the
more sensible they are. Their perfection, therefore, consists
in their faculty of changing their states, and of applying
themselves to the forms of bodies with which they come
in contact. For this reason they are moist, and furnished
with a constant very slight humour as of a medullous
nature, and there are glands from which corporeal fibres
proceed, continually imbibing and transmitting this hu-
mour from the surrounding air. As to their situation and
connection, or their particular and general form, so far as
they are more perfect in themselves so much the more
powerful are they in producing or seizing the sense ; but
the bare power of individuals cannot produce the effects
unless all in which there is a similar power conspire to
the same effect. And in order that they may conspire,
a positive and mutual connection in requisite, whence
may proceed an order and regard for the whole, so that,
for instance, one may regard the other as the companion
32 THE SOUL.
of its own sense. So the entire form will concur with the
particular form or the form of each one. This is the rea-
son why, where the sense is most acute, as in the fingers
of the hand and the toes of the foot and near the nails,
the ridges [of the skin] lie in a spiral direction, and that
they do not stretch upward but are extended lengthwise,
and thus by their greater conformity bear mutual aid.
As to their variety, however, — as for instance that no one
of them is precisely like another, — this is evident from the
difference in the sensations of touch ; for the mind at
once perceives these wherever the touch occurs. For the
sensation is more dull or it may be more acute in the
hollow of the hand or of the foot or of the finger than on
the back, on the side than on the breast, on the neck
than on the head. This variety, in order that the sense
may be most perfect, will be an harmonious one, such
indeed that the variety of the one may correspond to
the variety of the other, or that a common harmony may
result from the variety in particulars ; like that of the
cortical glands, of which we have treated.
(37.) The organs of the sensation of Touch correspond to
their cortical glandules in the spinal medulla and
the oblongata, as also to their cortical glandules in
the covering of the brain.
That the papillae, which are the organic substances
of touch, correspond with the cortical glandules of the
medulla spinalis and oblongata as with those of the brain
itself, appears very plainly from anatomy as inwardly ex-
amined. For the papillae are those extremities of the
nerves or fibres complicated into such organic forms ;
since there are infinite fibres running to the skin and
there branching out, as appears especially from the bodies
of infants. And since each fibre derives its origin from a
certain cortical glandule of its own in the medulla spina-
THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 33
lis or oblongata, it necessarily follows that each papilla
refers to its own gland as to its proper parent. Every
sensation creeps along, following the extension of its
nerve or fibre, to find the beginning of it, and does not ter-
minate except in this origin or in the corresponding gland ;
thence it follows along the whole axis or medulla spinalis
and emerges even at the cortical covering of the brain.
For the sense, as was shown above, is diffused not to one
gland alone but from one into all the glands. Thus is
the brain rendered a participator in every sensation, and
so can judge of their differences.
There seems, moreover, to intervene also another and
more immediate communication of the papillae of the
touch with the cortical glands of the brain, besides that
which we have named, which is rather a mediate one.
For it can be demonstrated that these organic papillae
are so many glands which imbibe a most subtle humour
from the circumfluent air and ether, and carry the same
by their emissaries even to the cortex of the brain. I
have called these emissaries the emulous vessels of the
fibre, or corporeal fibres, which weave together the inmost
tunic of the arteries,, and at length terminate in the corti-
cal glands. To these they carry and supply this purest
humour from which is elaborated the animal spirit. In
this manner these papillae, which are thus so many glands
corresponding to the cortical glands of the brain, commu-
nicate with the corticous surrounding of the brain, whence
comes the sensation of touch.
I wish also to add that these papillae or glands which
furnish the sole of the foot with its acute sense of touch
seem to be composed of those fibres of the brain itself
which flow along the whole length of the medulla spina-
lis, even to its extremity, and finally go into the nerves ;
so that the sense of touch in the sole of the foot commu-
nicates more immediately with the brain than that of
other parts of the body ; wherefore this has a more acute
sense than other parts, and a change of its state is at
34 THE SOUL.
once carried to the brain ; and thus, also, in the bodily
system are first and last things united.
(38.) The soul perceives most particularly every change
which goes on in the whole body ; and particularly
and universally it encounters those things which
bring any harm to the organic forms or to the body :
but that we are not conscious of any other changes
than those which affecT. the cortex of the brain in
particular.
Whatever strikes a fibre runs to the beginning of the
fibre, and as it were announces the change made in it.
For every sense emerges or is elevated, as if from the
heavier to the lighter, in being elevated to its origin.
The origin itself is the cortical gland : for whether it be
one of the brain or of the cerebellum or any gland of the
medulla oblongata or medulla spinalis, there is a likeness
of the gland in every minute portion of the fibre, just as
there is a likeness of the heart in every particle of an
artery. So is there a gland present, serving as a begin-
ning, in every least part of its fibre ; wherefore each part
is rendered conscious of a change. There is nothing or-
ganic in the whole body which is not constructed from
fibre and vessel ; the fibre itself is the producer and the
formative substance of the vessel : whence it follows that
nothing changeable can exist in the whole bodily system
as formed of fibres only of which the cortical gland or its
soul may not be rendered conscious. But the cortical
glands perceive otherwise than do the medulla spinalis
and medulla oblongata, and those of the cerebellum other-
wise than those of the cerebrum : the former perceive in
a general and obscure manner, but these particularly and
distinctly. Thence arises a sense which does not reach
the consciousness of our intellectual mind. The cortex
of the brain must be reached most particularly if it is to
THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 35
perceive differences. From this it follows that unless the
brain be affected in particular we cannot be rendered
conscious of changes. The sense of touch affects the
cortex of the brain both mediately and immediately, as
already indicated ; likewise the sense of taste, of which
presently. It is also evident from the mammillary pro-
cess, which is affixed to the brain itself, that the sense of
smell likewise affects it. The sight extends directly into
the cerebrum by the optic nerve. Seeing, therefore, that
the soul becomes conscious of all the changes of its
body, and that sensation is passion, to which there is a
correspondent action, it thence necessarily follows that
the soul concurs with every change ; for as it suffers so
also it acts. Its natural force is such that the organism,
the order, harmony, and form, which it has constructed it
also preserves and protects ; for the organs subsist from
the same source from which they exist ; they even sub-
sist in the same manner. For the soul remains in a per-
petual state of formation ; and what has been formed it
regards as to be formed, and that which is to be formed
as formed already.
36 THE SOUL.
V.
THE SENSE OF TASTB.
(39.) The Taste is a superior sense of touch, and discerns
those figured parts or angular forms which are
more simple, and which flow in a certain liquid.
In the tongue are contained papillae almost similar to
those above described among the pores of the skin ; but
there is observed a threefold difference. Under the skin
of the tongue itself, and under a certain nervous mem-
brane, they lie concealed, but they stretch forth and reach
out when the appetite is excited, and the mind desires to
perceive the quality of meats and drinks. This is the
reason why in the dead they are withdrawn and hidden.
The outermost sheath is netted, pervious, and full of holes,
in order that the parts which press and are rolled upon
the tongue may be able at once with their points and
corners to meet the membranes and little extended
tongues of the papillae. This effect could not be pro-
duced unless the particulars which are to be discerned
by the taste should be in solution, and flow in some liquid.
This is the reason why the tongue itself and the neighbour-
ing glands, as those of the whole mouth, or of the jaws
and palate, pour forth a kind of saliva. For the dry
tongue posesses only a dull and feeble sense, very much
such as that of the touch only. That the sense of taste
is a superior sense of touch appears from this, that the
touch cannot be so far perfected that it can perceive the
effluvia floating in moist places, and their little points,
still less the order and arrangement of the angles among
THE SENSE OF TASTE. 37
themselves and as mixed with the rounded surfaces. For
there are degrees of the angular parts or forms, as of the
more or less composite or simple. Those which are com-
posite are of that inferior, posterior and imperfect kind
which the touch perceives ; while the taste perceives
those which are more simple, prior, superior and more
perfect. But in general, it is to be observed that the
three senses, touch, taste, and smell, do not take in any-
thing more than the figures of the parts or of the angular
forms, that is, of the inert and heavy; they do not take
in the forms themselves and their essential determinations,
as do the sight and hearing.
(40.) The sense of Taste is intermediate and truly corporeal;
its innumerable organic substances are dispersed
throughout the entire tongue, and taken together,
constitute the organ of Taste ;
as asserted and shown above concerning the touch :
for papillae of diverse forms are scattered through the
entire tongue and over its surface ; but nevertheless,
when taken together, these form but one organ and one
sense.
(41.) The perfection of the sensation of Taste depends upon
the quantity, quality, situation, and mutual connec-
tion of those organs, that is, upon the particular
form of each and the general form of all, as also
upon a certain variety which must be called harmo-
nious ;
just as said above concerning the sense of touch. The
same law belongs to both. For the objects of both are
figured corpuscles, hard and inert, but those which affect
the sense of taste are the simpler or less composite of the
38 THE SOUL.
same kind, or of the angular bodies. As regards the
variety of those organs, they are of a triple composition
and nature : the more numerous, the softer, and more per-
fect are in the apex of the tongue ; then those which are
in the sides ; then the more coarse and imperfect about
the root of the tongue : thus there is a harmonious variety
and difference of all. For the perfection of similar organs
in the same tongue increases and decreases, so that there
is nothing whose figures may not be detected by this sense.
(42.) The sense of Taste, just as the sense of touch, refers
itself mediately and immediately to the cerebrum as
its common sensory ; immediately by the nerve of
the fifth pair, which is the common nerve of the
organ of the senses arising from the medulla of
the cerebrum itself.
We must distinguish whether the taste arises from the
nerve of the ninth pair or from that of the fifth pair, for
everywhere it approaches and enters the tongue together
with the nerve of the par vagum : but because the tongue
is not only muscular and filled with motor nerves but also
papillous and sensative ; and because the fibres of the
said nerves are wonderfully folded together in the tongue,
so that it is difficult to know the office of each one ; there-
fore we must explore the subject by the aid of other signs
which may reveal the truth. It has elsewhere been ob-
served that the nerve of the ninth pair is the speaking or
locutory nerve, and that the nerve of the eighth pair the
masticating nerve, and the nerve of the fifth pair the sens-
ory nerve. So far as regards further the nerve of the fifth
pair, it is the common nerve emerging from the annular
protuberance in which are concentrated the fibres both
of the cerebellum and of the cerebrum. This nerve is
both soft and hard, according to the observations of Rid-
ley, therefore both a sensor and motor nerve, as is the
THE SENSE OF TASTE. 39
nerve of the seventh pair or that of the hearing. Besides,
it enters the several organs of the senses, the sight, hear-
ing, smell and taste ; thus it seems to serve the same use
in the head which is served by the intercostal nerve in
the cerebrum ; as that, in other words, unites in its own
mode the several senses, so this unites the several actions
or muscles. It may be demonstrated from anatomy that
the universal nerve of the senses is one which arises im-
mediately from the cerebrum, just as that the universal
nerve of the natural motions of the body, or the intercostal
nerve, as also the nervus vagus, arises from the cerebellum.
Moreover, many phenomena prove the nerve of the ninth
pair to be the speaking nerve, or that of the muscles by
the aid of which the tongue speaks, thus so far as the
nerve of the fifth pair is continued from the medulla of
the cerebrum or arises from its cortex, it follows that all
the differences of touch in the tongue may be perceived
in the cerebrum. It would be otherwise if there were no
immediate communication with the cerebrum.
40 THE SOUL.
VI.
THE SENSE OF SMELL.
(43.) The sense of Smell is a still higher sense of touch, and
discerns those figured parts or external angular
forms which are still more simple, and which float
and are borne about in the aerial atmosphere.
The organs of the sense of smell are scattered through
the whole pituitary or mucous membrane, which lines
not only the cavities of the nose but at the same time
covers the walls of many of the cellules. Besides the
cavities of the nostrils there are also the frontal sinuses,
cut out between the tables of the frontal bone, as also
the antra of Highmore, in the upper jaw ; then the cel-
lules of the cuneiform bone ; and besides, there are caverns
and spongy and labyrinthine spaces, which all communi-
cate with the nostrils and are covered with a common
membrane and periosteum. Through this membrane in
the head and the widest spaces there creep myriads of
vessels, and glandular and round corpuscles are inter-
woven in great numbers. There are six cavities of the
sinuses and four cellules of the spongious bones, which
communicate with each other, and are furnished and filled
with similar organs or glands. This whole expanse de-
rives its origin from the olfactory nerves ; these nerves,
called otherwise the mammillary processes, affixed to the
anterior part of the brain, are attenuated around the eth-
moidal crest, and are transmitted by certain perforated
lamina called the cribriform or cribrous plate. It accom-
panies these fibres outward also, even beyond the meninx,
THE SENSE OF SMELL. 4!
both the pia and the dura, together with certain arterial
and venous vessels. From the description of the expan-
sion and connection of this organ it is evident that it
possesses a sense still more subtle, or of parts more simple,
than does the taste. For those things which float about
in the air are lighter and more and more volatile than
those which are in the water and liquids which affect the
taste. For in order that the taste may distinguish the
figuration of parts it is necessary that the compounds be
dissolved ; but that the smell may perceive this it is not
necessary that they be dissolved, but the very effluvia
even from the bodies whether of animals or vegetables, as
also those exhaled from minerals, are perceived [by this
sense]. Thence are taken up those [particles] which do
not permanently adhere to bodies, but which spontane-
ously are separated from them and fly about in the air.
The effluvia of the animal kingdom are so copious that
by the sense of smell alone dogs know their master from
other men, and can trace out and hunt for animals. Still
more copious and sensible are the effluvia of the vegetable
kingdom, as the odours from gardens and fields. In the
mineral kingdom, while many objects are inodorous,
there are yet many which . in a liquid form excite this
sense. Hence the smell appears to distinguish parts more
simple than those detected by the taste. But nevertheless,
the forms here are angular, in themselves heavy, inert,
hard, figured, truly corporeal and material.
(44.) The senses of Touch, Taste, and Smell perceive only
external forms, but not internal forms, as do the
senses of Hearing and of Sight.
The external form or figure of the parts, the angular-
ity, pointedness, planeness, roundness, is perceived by
the organs of the touch, taste, and smell, but not their
quality or internal forms ; for only the parts along the
surface affect the papillae. And because these are inert
42 THE SOUL.
and hard they cannot be explored by these organs as to
their internal structure, which is the reason why we judge
of them from the taste and odour only, and may not know
whether they are wholesome or not. Thus arsenic and
poisonous substances may deceive by their sugary sweet-
ness. Their internal quality can be learned only from
their effects ; from which knowledge comes the chemical
and medical art. But it is otherwise with the hearing and
the sight : by these senses the internal forms themselves
are apprehended, but not the external forms ; for these are
modifications and fluxions which affecl: the organ accord-
ing to their essential determinations ; wherefore the law
of the sense of hearing and sight is entirely different from
that of the smell, taste and touch.
(45.) The sense of Smell affetts the whole brain, every
medullary substance of it immediately, and medi-
ately the cortical substance ; and the brain, whose
form is harmonious, shuns whatever is contrary to
harmony and seeks what is conformable to it.
The sense of smell insinuates itself immediately into
the whole medullary substance of the brain, and by this
diffuses itself; for as soon as the fibre of its sensory pen-
etrates the cribrous lamina it is diffused into the mammil-
lary process which arises close to the corpora striata, and
carries its roots here and there through the whole me-
dulla ; for these processes in the niduli cavi when they
are inflated expand the medullary substance and keep it
swollen. The roots seem to be not so widely scattered in
the human brains as in the brains of the irrational animals,
lest, it may be, the odours should disturb the reasonings
and judgments of the human mind by inducing so frequent
changes in it. In so far as the smell is extended through
the whole brain, it follows that every thing which injures
the harmony of its parts and substances the mind is averse
THE SENSE OF SMELL. 43
to, and feels to be disagreeable and offensive, while other
things are conformable. The most perfect form itself is
that of the brain, namely, the spiral. Into this flow its
cortical substances, and nearest these the fibres which
thence arise ; whatever, therefore, is inharmonious must
disagree, whether it exists at once or successively. For
that which is harmonious in itself does not tolerate the
inharmonious, but perceives at once what it is which is
repugnant to itself and to the order of its individual parts.
Thus the smell appears to affecl: only the general form of
the brain, but not the particular form of each glandule.
(46.) The brain or common sensory is not affeEled by the
sense of Smell except when its fibres are in their
diastole or expansion.
The whole medullous brain, or a single fibre of it, is
expanded whenever the lungs are expanded, that is,
whenever the air is drawn in ; for the motions of the brain
and of the lungs are synchronous. In every general ex-
pansion of the brain all its fibres are restored from their
most compressed position into their natural or harmonious
situation ; therefore it is then only that the smell is
experienced, as may be perceived by us when drawing in
the breath. Moreover, the sense of smell returns when
after sneezing the medullous brain is restored to its nat-
ural condition as to the fibres, that is, when there is no
longer anything to prevent the fibres and glandules from
being held distinctly apart.
(47.) Similar things to those observed in touch and taste
are also to be observed in the sense of Smell.
For example, the organic substances of this sense are
innumerable, and disposed throughout the entire pituitary
44 THE SOUL.
membrane, and, taken together, they constitute the organ
of smell ; the perfection of the sensation of smell depends
also upon the quantity, the quality, the situation, and
mutual connection of these organs or glandules, that is,
upon the particular form of each and the common form of
all, as, again, upon a certain variety, which is to be called
harmonic. The reason is, because so many objects of the
sense of smell are similar to those of the taste ; for in-
stance, as being figured, inert, saline, sulphurous, urinous,
oily, aromatic, or anything whatever of the mineral king-
dom, and angular and of terrestrial forms. But in the
degree that this terrestrial form approaches more nearly to
the circular, so much the more agreeable is the sense
thence resulting.
(48.) The soul also perceives still purer bodies, and forms
of a simple element swimming in a still higher
ether ; and it disposes its organism so that those
things which are agreeable may be attracted and
drawn in by the most subtle pores even to the cor-
tex, and that by means of these the animal spirit
or purer blood may be prepared ; but we are not
rendered conscious of the variety of these or those
forms by any sense.
That the sense of smell may be wonderfully perfected
and exalted appears from the animals which by smell
and sagacity trace and perceive the friendly effluvia of
their master, and the unfriendly effluvia of other animals,
indeed often at an immense distance. But we human
creatures take in by smell only those forms which swim in
the air, while the beasts we have mentioned take in those
which float in the ether. There is an ocean of these
forms, as appears from phosphorus and innumerable other
phenomena. For the atmospheres are filled full of exhal-
ations, so that nothing shall ever be wanting, but rather
THE SENSE OF SMELL. 45
constantly at hand, in order that our blood — as well the
red as the white blood — and animal spirit may be supplied
with those things which should enter into its composition.
Besides, there are the least little pores, now opened, now
closed, now hungrily seizing and imbibing the wave of
these [subtle forms], now rejecting and discharging them ;
or there are moments when our cuticle stands wide ex-
tended, and when it remains shut. Thence it is that
various diseases both originate and are cured. This [porous
action] is called instinct, nor does it belong to the con-
sciousness of our minds; because [these forms] are so sub-
tle as not to affect the papillae or organs. This the soul
has reserved to itself; nor will it reveal this by any sense
to the mind, which might wish, with its will taking the
lead, to administer this economy, in which case the whole
animal chemistry would easily be overthrown and de-
stroyed. Accordingly, this sense should be the most acute
and pure of all the senses of touch.
46 THE SOUL.
vn.
THE SENSE or HEARING.
(49.) The ear is the organ of Hearing, exactly adapted to
receiving the modifications of the air.
We can be sufficiently instructed concerning the na-
ture of the air's modifications from the formation of the
ear, and also concerning the formation of the ear from
the nature of the air's modifications. For the modified air
is the principal and the ear is the instrumental cause, and
so formed, one for the other, that there is not the least
of the one which is not inscribed in the other. But a
sagacious ingenuity, and one well furnished with knowl-
edge, is necessary in exploring the nature of one by
means of the other.
For the auricle itself or external ear, with its pinna or
lobe, its helix and antihelix, tragus and antitragus,
scapha, concha, liguments, cartilages, follicles or gland-
ules, and muscles, is extended and spirally intorted at the
first impulse of sound or modulation, so that not the least
ray shall escape, but must be carried most aptly into the
auditory passage. This passage itself, with its winding
progress, its bony and cartilaginous substance, its tunic,
cerumanous glandules, reticular body and hairs, is most
perfectly adapted to induce the approaching and concen-
trated sound into the membrane of the tympanum, and
at the same time to control it lest any damage should
occur to this membrane. But the membrane of the tym-
panum is concave, of elliptical figure, placed obliquely,
and composed of three membranes, the exterior one being
THE SENSE OF HEARING. 47
continued to the auditory passage, the interior into the
vestibule. Even when perforated it adapts the sound re-
ceived exactly to itself, and either widens itself and its own
cavity or else relaxes. In the cavity itself of the tym-
panum are seen the ossicula, as the malleus, the incus
and stapes, with their handles, connections, hinges, mus-
cles, and cords. These clearly indicate that the least
touches or forces from the outermost membrane are
propagated to a certain interior one called the fenestra,
'so that there are as many most delicate pulsations as
there are distin<5l sounds. But inwardly, or in the laby-
rinth and its vestibule, there run together three semicir-
cular canals with their sonorous membranes ; as also the
cochlea of wonderful construction, with its spiral lamina,
its nucleus, its little nerves, its periostea, and infinite
other remarkable features, besides the two windows and
the aquaeductus Fallopii. All these openly show that the
organism of the ear corresponds exactly to the form of
this fluxion of the air particles. And truly, so many won-
ders are displayed in this single stony, hollow, sculptured
bone that it brings the most intelligent human mind into
amazement. The artificially constructed acoustic instru-
ments are more perfect in the degree that they approach
more nearly to what is exhibited in this natural knowl-
edge.
(50.) To each mode or ray of sound there belongs its own
force, and the difference of forces produces dif-
ferences of sound, for receiving and transmitting
which in the most distinct manner the ear is
formed ; therefore the Hearing is also in a manner
a sense of touch.
From innumerable indications, as also from the organic
apparatus of the hearing or of the ear, it is plain that the
modification of the air acts by forces, or that there are as
4» THE SOUL.
many forces or most delicate blows and touches as there
are sounds. In the ear this is evident from its mem-
branes and fenestrae, from the malleus attached to the
membrane, and from its fold and pit in which it hides
itself, as also from the incus and stapes and their articu-
lations, which indicate plainly that there are as many
differences of sound as there are pulsations. The same
truth is also confirmed by innumerable other phenomena
of sound ; as that a sound increased puts forth such a
force against things in its way that it violently displaces
them, and will break glass. I have heard that from the
mere crash and sudden sound of exploding powder in a
ship which was rent in pieces and burned, as also from
the same in a tower or magazine, the roofs of houses
have been lifted, tables overthrown, windows broken, and
bodies displaced by a very strong impelling force, besides
many other results which plainly show that in sounds
there resides a force greater or less according to the
degree of its intensity, and that therefore the difference
of forces produces differences of sound. Besides these
there exist innumerable other phenomena which prove the
impulsive force of sounds.
(51.) The differences of forces, impulses, or touches consti-
tute in themselves a certain harmony which is called
the form of modifications, whence results the form
of sensations, or sensation itself, concerning whicJi
nothing can be predicated until its differences are
analogically compared one with another.
This appears in musical harmonies, which may be com-
pared with numbers and the ratios and the analogies
thence resulting ; for a sound cannot be said to have a
quality without some other sound as a companion or
spouse, but it becomes a something by this relation to
and comparison with another. The very rays or modes
THE SENSE OF HEARING. 4
of sound which differ in their force at once make harmony
or disharmony in combination with others, thus they
acquire a certain quality, because they are such relatively.
Hence arises musical harmony, and this is the reason why
variety is an attribute of nature, and why the perfection
of nature lies in being harmonious.
(52.) From sounds and their differences combined
arises harmony or disharmony, which is the form itself of
the modifications, and which is presented either agreeably
or disagreeably in the organ of hearing.
(53.) Harmony and disharmony are something that
refers to the organism of the ear itself and its communi-
cation with the brain and the harmonious variety that
exists in the sensible parts of the brain ; as also some-
thing that respects the form of the cortical gland ; or the
quality of the animus and especially the quality of the
mind. The harmony of sensations in general, and espe-
cially the sensation of hearing, is determined by the state
of this last, which is the reason why the same harmony is
not equally pleasing to all, but that what pleases one may
displease another. Nevertheless, there is a harmony more
or less perfect naturally ; but the states above named
are a reason why harmonies most perfect or truly natural
may yet be perceived as inharmonious.
(54.) The sense of hearing is more excellent and per-
fect than the other senses, namely, the touch, taste, and
smell, in this respect, that the hearing perceives the very
forms or essential determinations of objects ; but the touch,
taste and smell only the external forms or figures, and
indeed those of the harder parts ; so that the hearing is
able to penetrate into the inmost essence of a composed
sound or harmony, but not the inferior senses, which can
take in the external but not the internal quality.
(55.) The hearing is indeed an external and corporeal
sense, but it contributes especially to the human intellect.
For every word which is a composed and variously artic-
ulated sound signifies some one idea of the mind ; but
50 THE SOUL.
the ideas are connected in such a manner that thence
some rational form results which could not result except
from material forms composed and connected together
after a rational and analytic manner. Also the more
intellectual the ideas the more the ideas ought to be
analytically composed, from whose ultimate results and
products the mind makes its inductions and conclusions
as to what lies hidden within them. In this way alone
do we approach the pure intelligence of the soul, which
at length receives only the inmost sense of the words,
and indeed, at last, a sense so inmostly hidden that it
cannot be expressed by any word or circumlocution except
most obscurely. Then the spiritual or angelic speech, or
the universal philosophy, takes it up; and the perception
alone of these truths in their mutual relations is a har-
mony most perfect and divine. Such is the proper speech
of the soul.
(56.) The hearing, viewed in itself, is an inferior sense
of sight ; for the forms which are represented by articu-
late sounds or words, pass over into those images which
belong to the sight itself. So that we contemplate
things heard as if they were things seen, before they are
changed into rational or intellectual ideas. These, never-
theless, do so agree that there appears manifestly a cer-
tain affinity between the two, only a difference in perfec-
tion intervening as between the modification of the air
and that of the ether, or between the air and the ether,
which agree in general but differ in particulars ; or such as
is the difference between the superior and inferior things
of nature, between the prior and posterior, the simple and
the composite, the more perfect and the more imperfect ;
or between principles and causes, and between causes and
effects.
(57.) The hearing and its form of words does not
pass over into a certain superior sight by mode of anal-
ogy, or the form of the hearing does not naturally excite
a similar form or harmony of sight, that is, an image or
THE SENSE OF HEARING. 51
idea ; but the mind, being instructed in the meaning of
the words, concurs, and thus from use and at the same
time from its own intelligence it understands the words
themselves and the forms connected in speech, or from
these it draws forth some rational meaning. Thus the
sound by no means excites anything rational in the mind ;
but the forms themselves of the words, which are so
many ideas of the mind, give the intellect the means
whereby it may draw thence [from the sound] something
rational. That the sounds themselves are unable to pro-
duce anything intellectual in the mind appears from the
the vowels, which [in sound] are almost entirely differ-
ent in one language from what they are in another.
(58.) Meanwhile animals, not being furnished with in-
tellect or with a rational mind, are entirely unable to pro-
duce any rational speech ; for as is the soul such is the
mind and such the speech. Speech, therefore, clearly
indicates that we enjoy a superior kind of soul, more intel-
ligent and more perfect than that of brutes.
(59.) The speech of brutes is wholly corporeal and
material ; in general signifying the affections of their mind,
which retains a great affinity with their interior sense.
Such speech, which is to be called natural and general,
is also interspersed in our own ; indeed, we possess many
words which by mere variation and nature of the sound
signify and express in a sufficiently natural manner a cer-
tain affection itself of the animus.
(60.) The ear, which is the organ receptive of sound,
applies itself most particularly to its reception, and without
this application the mutual discriminations of sound could
not be felt and perceived ; thence the ear undergoes and
induces upon itself as many mutations of state as there
are differences of sound, as appears from the applications
of the malleus, incus and stapes ; wherefore each organ
must have a separate force and one acting of itself,
just as it is also passive and inflated, as in all the other
organs.
$2 THE SOUL.
(61.) To every sensory organ there must be supplied
motory and sensory fibres, and sensation could not take
place if either the one or the other were wanting, and un-
less there were some action which cprresponded to pas-
sion or sensation. The a6lion of the organ arises from
use and from its nature, and indeed from an unconscious
intelle6l ; thence the motory fibre of the organ seems
to be moved from the cerebellum, but the sensory fibre
from the cerebrum. Thus the cerebellum and the cere-
brum seem to reign in every sensory organ.
(62.) Every sound induces a marked change of state
upon the brain, and moves every particle of it's medullary
and of its cortical substance as well as of both the
meninges ; yea, sound sets into a kind of trembling the
cranium itself, its parts and fibres, and those of the whole
body ; and so the whole bodily system is rendered re-
ceptive of the forces of sound.
(63.) A sound vibrates and causes to tremble, each by
itself, the parts of the cerebrum, the cerebellum, and either
medulla ; but the cortex itself of these [parts] is caused to
vibrate only in a general manner, since sound and its har-
mony may not be able to carry the change of state to the
cortex itself in a particular manner ; but the cortex, from
the general change of the state of its cerebrum, may take
notice, and indeed from experience [learn to detect] what
such mutation signifies.
(64.) The hearing and speech, in finding their way
through the brain and all its parts and moving these, flow
according to. the form of its substances. This is the rea-
son why the brain perceives the harmony of sounds. This
is recognized as being similar to its own general form, or
the site and connection, order and form of its parts.
(65.) The hearing in a wonderful manner clarifies,
purges, and restores to order the brain, cerebellum, and
the body itself and its viscera ; yea, many things which
otherwise would harden and collapse are thus restored ;
and in its own way it draws forth the animal spirit that
THE SENSE OF HEARING. 53
it may enter into marriage union with the blood, even
from the brain itself, through its sinuses into the jugular
veins, and from the jugular veins into the heart ; hence
it contributes something to the animal life. For speech
and its sound is a kind of trembling, which pervades
both liquids and solids. This is the reason why the ear
is formed in the petrous bone, and that its nerve passes
over that part of the skull where the sinuses come to-
gether, and that the [animal] spirit itself passes through
the pores of the skull.
(66.) Differences of sound can neither exist nor be dis-
tinguished unless there be a certain common sound not
discriminated or articulated, in which and under which
the particulars can be discerned ; not otherwise than is
the case with the sight, which also cannot exist without a
common light, in respect to which all those things are
discerned which are more or less luminous. Such a sound
is furnished by means of the whole skull, which is the
reason why the ear is inserted in the stony and most
porous bone. It is also on this account that musical in-
struments are the more distinct, perfect, and sonorous in
the degree that their strings are attached to a board and
table of a more tremulous substance, for this furnishes of
itself a common sound ; but this common sound, like the
light itself, is not perceived in the sound of the particu-
lars.
(67.) The hearing communicates immediately with the
cerebrum by the softer nerve of the seventh pair, which
probably arises from the medulla of the brain ; but its
harder portion communicates with the medulla of the cere-
bellum, from which it seems to originate. Hence it fol-
lows that the ear is adapted to receiving sound by the
harder nerve, but for catching the meaning by the softer
nerve, each being distributed throughout the sensitive
membranes, cylinders, and spirals of its vestibule.
THE SOUL.
VI1L
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
(68.) The organ of sight is the eye, set in its own
orbit, globular in figure, in color black, brown, grey,
bluish grey, or blue. Not to mention the eyelashes and
lids, the eye itself is provided with six muscles for motion,
the names of which are the attollens and the deprjjnens,
the abductor, the adductor, the superior and the inferior
oblique. The tunics, the humours and vessels constitute
the bulb itself. The tunics are many. The albuginea,
which is also called the adnata and conjunctiva, adheres
to the front part, and joins the eye to the orbit. Next is
the cornea, which is pellucid and divided into layers.
The third is the sclerotic, hard and opaque. The fourth
is the choroid, black in man, and consisting of a double
layer ; the fifth is the uvea, which is the front part of the
choroid, perforated and coloured, visible through the cor-
nea, convex, in which is to be seen the iris of various col-
ours ; the pupilla which is the round opening almost in the
middle of the iris. The posterior face of the uvea is black.
Besides these there are to be seen the sphincter pupillae
for contracting, the ciliary fibres for dilating, the ciliary or
annular ligament for the movement of the vitreous body
and crystalline lens, especially the arterious and venous
circle and the ductus nigri. Then the retina, a very deli-
cate tunic, glistening, somewhat mucous, an expansion of
the optic nerve around the base, and the primary part of
vision. The humours are the aqueous, or albugineous,
filling either chamber of the eye in which the uvea freely
floats as it were, and which is continually replenished ;
THE SENSE OF SIGHT. 55
the vitreous, probably consisting of the most subtle vessels
or cells, filling the back part of the eye contiguous to the
tunic of the retina ; the crystalline, almost lens-shaped,
more solid than the rest, called the crystalline lens, en-
closed by means of a most delicate tunic in the pit of the
vitreous, freely suspended as it were just behind the pupil,
and moveable by means of it, composed of many pellucid
layers and thus resembling an onion. The arachnoid vas-
cular tunic, surrounding the crystalline and vitreous body ;
the optic nerve completing the retina enters the eye from
the side of the nose. Besides these there are the nerves
of the third, fourth, fifth and sixth pairs.
(69.) The eye is the organ constructed for the recep-
tion of the modifications of the ether, just as the ear is
for the reception of the modifications of the air, so that
from the structure and form of the eye we may learn what
is the nature of the modifications of the ether, and con-
versely, since one corresponds to the other as the instru-
mental to the principal cause. The correspondence appears
to be such that the eye could not have been otherwise
formed than it has been, in order to receive every differ-
ence and variety of the inflowing modes to apply these
to itself and transmit them to the common sensory.
(70.) The soul desired to furnish her body with sight in
order that by this means she might take in every variety
of the visible world placed beneath her and the sphere
of her regard. Without this sense these would not come
into her knowledge. Thus only could she provide for the
body and guard against threatening danger, these being
the universal end of all sensations. Moreover, she would
perfect: the intellect or the rational mind by a posterior way
or through the senses, especially that of sight. Besides
these ends there are many special and particular ones.
(71.) But the sense of sight, although it is supreme
and the most perfect of all the external sensations, still
is so feeble that it can contemplate only the ultimate
effects of nature or their external forms and figures ; and
56 THE SOUL.
infinite things still lie hidden from her and escape her view,
while only a very few are revealed, and indeed these very
obscurely and indistinctly, and as if of a continuous de-
gree. This is the reason why interior things and the
causes of bodies and of objects are to be investigated by
the experience of many centuries, and indeed with the aid
of those sciences by which the intellect is rendered acute
in its more interior penetrations.
(72.) By means of the optical art, or of microscopes,
we have detected how infinite are the things which escape
our ocular vision, since even the smallest insects, whose
shadow we can hardly perceive at all, or but as the
merest point, still appear to be provided with their nerves,
vessels, blood, heart, brain, medulla, muscles, organs of
the senses, of nutrition, and generation ; and that the
globule of red blood, hitherto hardly visible, contains the
infinite parts ; and so with many examples. From these
we may conclude that even these parts which are the
ultimate objects of microscopic vision also embrace in
themselves innumerable smaller parts, even a whole sys-
tem, so that nature in the least parts still lies hidden far
beyond our optical experience. But we are gifted with a
certain internal vision, or imagination, which penetrates
still farther into the forms of things presented ; while the
inmost sight of all penetrates even farther. So also in re-
gard to distances : while our hearing extends to a mode-
rate distance our ocular vision extends respectively to one
that is immense, as even to the sun and the stars ; and the
rational mind by its vision reaches even beyond the
stars ; while the soul, which is intelligence itself and pure
vision, is not limited in its cognition by anything narrower
than the created universe. For if such a difference exist
between the perfection of hearing and that of sight, what
must it not be between the sight and the intuitions of the
soul when left to itself.
(73.) We may conclude that the sight of the smallest
animalcule is much more acute and penetrating than that
THE SENSE OF SIGHT. 57
of the large animals, so that they can discern parts which
we can hardly distinguish even by means of the micro-
scope. Hence the smallest points of our vision are
regarded by them as entire masses or orbs, upon which
they walk, in whose pores they hide themselves as in caves,
and from the least particles of which they seek their nour-
ishment, and there lay their eggs and hatch their young.
This seems to be deducible from the natural necessity of
their life and their nutrition, and likewise from the small
diameter of their eyes.
(74.) And because our mind is unable to judge of ob-
jects except by means of the eye, it judges of their figure
from the variety of the light and of the shade, of the mag-
nitude and the mass from the distance, of the form from
the motion. Also it judges of the harmony from the pleas-
ure with which the sight or animus is affected. In these
nature herself vastly exceeds art. Hence it follows that
the mind, judging from the sight, is liable to be greatly
deceived, when that from which it forms its judgments
concerning objects is obscurely revealed. For the sight is
the servant and messenger of the rational mind, which it
informs regarding the visible world and its variety.
(75.) There are as many most delicate pulsations and
touches as there are luminous rays, although these appear
as nothing when compared to the rudest sense of touch, as
do also the modifications of the air ; and yet without
touch nothing is affected. The more luminous and intense
the ray the stronger it is ; the less luminous the less force
of acting it possesses ; and shade itself possesses none.
How many forces there are in the solar rays appears from
their effect, whether from heat or from the irritation of the
membrane of the nose to sneezing ; also from the reflection
of visible things from the objects and figures into the eye,
and from the phenomena of refraction ; and innumerable
others.
(76.) The images which produce the sight of the eye
are evidently only variations of light and shade, or of the
$8 THE SOUL.
stronger and weaker forces variously mingled together.
Hence arises an image, or a visual figure and object.
Colours themselves are nothing else than variations of light
and shade, or rather^of white and black made bright with
luminous rays. The relation itself of the light and the
shade, or of white and black lightened up with rays, and
thence the external form and harmony, are what produce
the coloured figures. Also a greater proportion of white
than of black becomes so much the more yellow even to
red, which partakes equally of both ; the greater propor-
tion of black becomes the more green and cerulean ; and
so on. The ratio itself produces the colour, but the form
and harmony produce the splendour and the beauty, while
the harmony of the colours among themselves produce the
delight of vision.
(77.) No image can be represented to the eye without
the common light, under which it is and in which may
appear both what is more or less luminous and what is
shadowy ; thus in the darkness the sight vanishes, in twi-
light it is feeble, in mid-day it is clear.
(78.) Every vision, object, or image induces a change
of state in its sensory, and of itself the eye disposes itself
to every quality of its object ; there is therefore in the eye
an active or an action which corresponds to the passive
or sensation. This appears from the structure of the eye
itself, and from one's own observation whenever images
flow into the eye : from the structure, for the pupil is
moveable by means of the crystalline humours, and that it
may be moved actually toward every variety of object it is
provided with the sphincter, fibres, and ciliary ligaments ;
even the crystalline humour is itself composed of many
layers, and the uvea freely swims in the aqueous humour,
and the aqueous or albugineous humour is perpetually re-
plenished ; thus the eye wonderfully adapts itself to appre-
hending every object by the changes of its state.
(79.) The changes of state of the eye are general as
well as special and particular. In general the position of
THE SENSE OK SIGHT. 59
the eye is changed with respect to the position of the
object, which is done by means of the six muscles. Then
also it obscures itself in part by dropping the lids, and by
elevating them it admits the entire inflowing of the object.
In special change the position of the pupil is changed ; in
particular, all the least particles composing the humours
both aqueous, crystalline, and also the vitreous [body] ;
for this is thought to consist of most subtle vessels and
cells ; besides the retina itself, which distinctly receives
all the inflowing forces.
(80.) Visual objects induce also a -change of state by
the several fibres of the optic nerve, as also by the several
fibres of the medulla of the brain, and finally by the sev-
eral cortical glands. For the same force which is borne in
to the vitreous humour and the retina is also communicated
by fibres, thence extending even to the ends of the fibres ;
but a change of state induced by these forces is lighter
and more subtle than the changes produced by sonorous
forces or those of hearing.
(8 1.) The visual rays endeavor to reach, not some par-
ticular cortical glands, but the whole cortical covering or
all the glands universally. Thus there is not a gland of the
brain which is not rendered conscious of, and concordant
with, some one visual ray. So with every fibre. For the
optic nerve, after its meeting with its companion in the
greater ventricles of the brain, expands into two swellings,
which are called the thalami of the optic nerves, or the
posteriora crura of the medulla oblongata. These thalami
communicate with every substance, medullary and cineri-
tious, of the whole brain. For it adheres and rests upon
its most posterior lobes and borders. But the fibres of
the lobes of the upper brain, as also of the vertex, are con-
centrated into a kind of fixed medullary cylinder which is
called the basis fornicis, and thence for the most part they
spread themselves over the thalami of the optic nerves.
Thus the whole brain, both medullary and cortical, is ren-
dered a participant of the rays of sight.
60 THE SOUL.
(82.) There is no cortical gland which does not repre-
sent a kind of internal eyelet — or a semblance of an eye, —
since the gland is in the last terminus of the fibres, and
thence of the modes and the rays of both the sight and
the hearing.
(83.) Visual rays of images of sight induce a change
of state both internal and external in every cortical gland,
just as the sonorous modes of hearing do in the whole
brain ; for the cortical gland is a brain in miniature, and
receives the sensation of sight just as the entire brain re-
ceives that of sound.
(84.) The visual rays and their figures and forms or
images run over the cortical gland and its surface, and
bend themselves according to its most perfecl: or vortical
form, and their bending and changing is communicated to
all the fibres and vessels which compose the gland, thus
to the whole gland itself.
(85.) But since the cortical gland adapts itself still
more perfectly than the eye for receiving every variety of
visual objects, by its own power it induces a change in
itself, taking another form, and one agreeing with the in-
flowing image. This change, which is the action of the
mind itself or of the soul, corresponding to the sensation
of sight as passive, produces that which is called the idea
of imagination, and which is a part of the memory, be-
cause it is reproduced as often as the gland again assumes
the same condition.
(86.) In this way the images of sight produce and per-
fecl: the imagination, which is the internal sense of sight ;
not, indeed, that the visual image induces this change
itself, for the gland is only passive to the shock of the
rays, but that the gland itself concurs actively from its
own interior potency. So is brought about a correspond-
ence, that such a change of state corresponds to such an
image. Hence it results that if the imagination is strong
and is intent upon one object, or if there be a thought [in
the mind] from which flows forth an interior active power,
THE SENSE OF SIGHT. 6l
that the images of sight strike the common sensory only in
the lightest manner, and are only very obscurely perceived,
so that the visual image induces only a certain superficial
change without any essential change of state.
(87.) All words which are heard are also seen ; all
images which are seen are also perceived and become
ideas ; and all ideas which are perceived are also under-
stood ; whence come rational or intellectual ideas : in this
way objects of the external senses pass over into objects
of the internal senses.
(88.) The passage of rays or modifications of the ether
is made in a spiral form, as that of the modes of sound in
a circular form ; and the fluxion of the medullary and
nervous fibres is also spiral. Therefore the visual rays
flowing in from the surrounding ether, through the eye
and its retina, upon the fibres of the optic nerve, in a
fluxion of similar form, flow by an easy and spontaneous
force even to the cortical glands. But in the cortical
gland they are elevated into a certain superior or cortical
form, while indeed folding themselves around its surface
and texture, and this form is the vortical.
(89.) The cortical gland, by virtue of the soul which
resides within it and is its order, law, truth, and form
itself, feels whether the image, simple or composed, be
an harmonious one. What is harmonious agrees with its
form, which the image traverses ; but the inharmonious
disagrees, for it forces, injures, and endeavors to destroy
the site, nexus, order, form, in a word, both the external
and internal state of the whole gland ; whence results avers-
ion, horror, and whatever is unpleasant, cheerless, even
to sadness.
(90.) The human race is wanting in an interior sense
which brute creatures enjoy, as instanced in their sense
of place, or that which makes them to recognize where
a certain place is and thus to learn by what way to re-
turn home and regain their accustomed meadows and
streams. They know this notwithstanding they 'find
62 THE SOUL.
their way by an entirely different path and one which
had never been trodden or scented. Thus they are like
living magnets* Such a sense arises from the form of the
cortical glands themselves, which form is vortical, and
cannot be excited by the fluxion of substances without a
determination of the poles and of the larger and smaller
circles, such as is seen in the great system. But man is
wanting in such a sense, because of the intellect or our
possessing a certain higher perception which induces an
activity in those glands, so that the sensations of sight
may be rightly perceived. This intellect is not pure, but
mixed, hence it does not attend to the slightest motions
of the objects of sight, and it governs the state of its
gland from its own will, and not from nature or a natural
intelligence. Therefore it can not be otherwise than that
such a sense is wanting in man while it is enjoyed by those
brute creatures which are not possessed of such an Intel-
led.
PERCEPTION, IMAGINATION, MEMORY, ETC. 63
IX.
PERCEPTION, IMAGINATION, MEMORY, AND THEIR IDEAS.
(91.) Words which are heard are as it were instantly
seen, for words represent so many forms, quantities, qual-
ities, movements, accidents, which are usually objects of
vision. But whatever is seen is also taken in by a cer-
tain interior sight or imagination, that is, it is perceived.
Moreover, whatever is perceived by the imagination is
also understood by man. Thus modes of sounds or of
hearing pass over into images of sight, these into ideas of
imagination which are also called material ideas, these
again into the rational ideas or into so many reasons,
from which, analytically connected, arises the intellect.
Such is the progress of sensations from external to inter-
nal, and hence we may discern their differences.
(92.) The imagination is therefore an internal sight,
which corresponds to the external ; for the eye is only
the organ and instrument of vision, the genuine vision
itself residing in the brain, or in the common sensory.
When this is injured or disturbed or obstructed, the eye
no longer sees ; while on the other hand the image itself,
which was present by daylight, is resuscitated when the
eyes are closed, or during sleep, as though it existed in
the eye itself.
(93.) The parts of the external sight are called images,
but the parts of the internal sight are called ideas, by
some, indeed, material ideas, since they are not represented
as unlike the images of sight except that they are dis-
posed in a different order and connection. What this
difference is can be seen from illustration alone.
64 THE SOUL.
(94.) The external sight contemplates only the figures
of objects, as, for instance, one wall of a palace after an-
other, the roof, tiles, foundations, chambers, pictures,
tapestries, thrones, and the dukes and ministers who dwell
there ; but the internal sight observes at once all these
things which to the eye are presented successively, or
during the passing of time. The external sight beholds
in a city one house after another, squares, streets, temples,
monuments, its legislature, its inhabitants ; but the inter-
nal sight sees these several things all instantaneously, and
not in succession. The external sight beholds the whole
starry heaven, with its sun, stars, planets, moons, meteors,
clouds, and their phenomena, contemplating one after an-
other ; while the imagination comprehends them all simul-
taneously, and views the form of the whole heaven per-
ceived by sight ; so in other instances. Thus the external
sight takes in only one part of the several objects after
another, while the internal vision takes them in simulta-
neously, so that in a moment it may traverse a palace, a
city, the starry heavens, and contemplate in one com-
pound idea that which was presented to the eye in its
particulars. Thus the total complex of the one differs
infinitely from that of the other, so that something infin-
ite or perpetual as it were is superadded, as contributing
a superior form in respect to that immediately below it.
Hence it follows that the internal sight or the imagination
is in a degree proportionately superior, prior, interior, sim-
pler, and more perfect than the external sight.
(95.) From the organs themselves of the external sight
we may also conclude that the imagination or the inter-
nal sight is in a degree proximately superior and more per-
fect. The organ of sight is the eye, while the organ of in-
ternal sight is the cortical gland, especially of the brain.
This cortical gland is an eye or a brain in miniature, but
still it is an organ of a higher degree, for its form is vorti-
cal, according to the description given of it, hence it is of
a purer, more perfect, and simpler nature than the form
of the organ of sight, whose rays and modifications are
PERCEPTION, IMAGINATION, MEMORY, ETC. 65
dire<5led into the spiral form, which is next below the vor-
tical in degree.
(96.) The internal vision or the imagination exists in
the cortical glands, and indeed in these separately, so
that each one of these is a part or a symbol of that sense
or the imagination ; the harmonious variety of the glands
causes that there is no difference in any obje6l which is
not in turn comprehended more distinctly in one of these
glands and more obscurely in another ; for the more eyes
there are so much more distinct is the sight ; consequently
the more cortical glands there are so much the more dis-
tinct the imagination. Moreover, the common cause of
all perfects the parts themselves, so that they shall all
conspire to the common result.
(97.) The images themselves of the sight are elevated
along the fibres of the optic nerve, even to all the corti-
cal glands of the brain. Reaching them, they run through
them with the greatest rapidity, pervading even their
whole fibrous and vascular structure by a kind of most sub-
tle trembling, so that the whole gland is rendered con-
scious of the image and phenomenon of sight. The gland
which is the organ of internal sight or of the imagination,
adapts itself at once most perfectly to receiving its obje6l ;
far more perfectly, indeed, than can the eye or the organ
of external sight. Thus the gland undergoes a change
of state which very nearly corresponds to the inflowing
image or obje£t, for it either contracts or expands, or as-
sumes a more perfect form, or distorts itself into one more
imperfect, since the entering of what is harmonious ex-
hilarates and expands the sensory, while anything that
induces discord binds and distorts, entirely as in the fibres
and organs of touch. This change itself, which the gland
receives, and to which it adapts itself at the impulse of any
visual image, is called an idea. It can no longer be called
an image, since it partakes of a certain superior and more
perfecl: form as well as of intelligence. In this way the
visual image is converted and passes into the correspond-
66 THE SOUL.
ing idea of the imagination, or the external and inferior
sight into that which is internal and superior.
(98.) From these things it appears that a certain nat-
ural correspondence intervenes between the imagination
and the ocular vision, since that which is harmonious
naturally expands the organ and restores it to its most
perfect form, while the inharmonious compresses and
distorts it into a form less perfect. This takes place by
infinite modes, according to every quality of the object as
regards its possessing a perfect or imperfect form.
(99.) The object or the image is perceived as soon as
it strikes upon these little sensories, or the cortical brain.
This subtle vibration, trembling, and first change in the
aforesaid glands, produces what is called the sensation of
sight ; since sight does not exist in the eye, but in the
common sensory. For when the modification pervades
both the gland itself, inducing in this the most perfect
form, and at the same time the simple fibres, which are
so many intellectual rays of the soul, it cannot be other-
wise than that whatever touches and in an instant trav-
erses these several fibres should be felt. But this sight is
superficial, and cannot yet be called perception.
(100.) But we have first to learn what sight properly
is, and what is perception, imagination, memory, image,
idea ; as 'also what their differences are. At the outset it
is to be observed that these all are effected in one organ or
sensory, that is, in the cortical substance [of the brain].
(101.) Whenever those variations of the modes or
modifications of the ether which consist of the differences
of light and shade, or of black and white, whence the
colours arise, strike upon a little sensory [of the brain],
then sight exists. The variations quiver over the surface,
and through both the medullary and cortical, the fibrillous
and vascular substances, and they dispose the little sens-
ory for receiving a modification similar to their own.
The sensory does not enter into other states, but it re-
mains simply in the state agreeable to that which flows
PERCEPTION, IMAGINATION, MEMORY, ETC. 67
iii. Then it is that sight arises ; and its changes in this
little sensory, or brain in least form, are only such as con-
form to the obje6l of sight. The parts of sight are called
images and objects.
(102.) But the imagination comes into play whenever
the sensory undergoes diverse states, even while the first
state is still preserved, which is the state of the obje6t
and the common state, and basis as it were of the remain-
ing states. Thus, while other states are passed through,
they all have a bearing upon this first, or one common to
them all, and to this they are all related and assimilated.
For there are innumerable states possible, both universal,
special, and individual ; and under every universal one there
are infinitely many singular ones, or in one general state
there are infinite particular states which are called its
single parts. Nor can they do otherwise than contribute
their share to a certain general form, since they subsist
under a general form which they help to sustain.
(103.) The parts of the imagination are not called
images, but ideas ; for taken together they contribute a
certain form which approaches the rational, while yet it
is not the rational. Into the imagination enter only those
things which are similar and in agreement, and these are
all particular ideas ; from these arises a compound idea,
which again is, as it were, the part of an idea still to be
composed.
(104.) When the imagination is in action then the ex-
ternal or ocular sight ceases, or recedes from it, for the
objecl: of sight then only remains as forming a common
basis of the other states ; and by turning it about, those
which have affinity with it are gathered in and brought
together. Thus the imagination is stronger when the eyes
are closed or in the dark, and feebler in an intense light.
(105.) When the imagination so operates that by a
nexus of similar things a desired order is obtained, or
seems to be discovered, and there is the recognition of
what is in agreement, this state is called perception or
68 THE SOUL.
internal sensation. For that is perceived which is seen,
or is taken in by the sense ; and yet the concurring of
many more things is requisite to perception, by whose aid
the quality of an object is known.
(106.) Memory is all that which is produced by the
imagination, or it is the mutability of state itself. For the
sensory itself possesses by nature nothing but a potency
of changing its state; but that it assumes various states is
the result of sensations which constrain the sensory and
by a kind of force bring it into these changes. The par-
ticular mutation thus acquired remains, and its quality is
known by the images impressed. Hence a particular mu-
tation which exists in potency is a part of the memory,
while a particular mutation which is in a6l is a part of the
imagination. Therefore the ideas of the memory are the
same as the ideas of the imagination, but they are not
reproduced except by an actual mutation ; hence the
imagination may in a certain sense be called the a6live
memory.
(107.) These changes of state are to be acquired by
use, culture, custom, in the flowing-in of sensations. Thus
the sensory itself becomes accustomed and learns in time
to undergo many changes of state, and thus to enrich its
memory. Every mutation, once acquired, remains under
the name of memory, and continues present whenever the
sensory returns to that same mutation.
(108.) From these observations we may now conclude
what the imagination is, and what the memory, and the
idea, and also in what manner the sight passes over into
the imagination, and thus what is their relation.
(109.) The brute animals, however, are born not only
into their natural memory, but into their imagination, or
into the mutation of the state of their sensory. For they
are possessed at once of the perfe6l sensations of their
members and with their powers of a6ling.
(llO.) It follows from the foregoing principles that
there can be no idea of the imagination which is not in
PERCEPTION, IMAGINATION, MEMORY, ETC. 69
the memory, and no idea of the memory which has not
been in the sense ; hence that all parts of the imagination
are insinuated through the senses alone. Consequently
that there can be just so much imagination as there is
memory, and so much memory as there is experience of
the senses.
(ill.) But inasmuch as the order of similars, their
harmony and their form, does not depend on this sens-
ory, but on a higher and a pure intellect, it follows that
something more than memory alone is required for the
imagination. For it is not owing to the memory that
those ideas called forth are rightly put together. This is
rather the result of the pure intellecl: itself, or of the soul,
whose nature it is to understand the harmonies and or-
der of things. Hence the imagination is such as the com-
munication of the pure intellecl: with it, or in other words,
the imagination can exist so far as there is a communica-
tion of the pure intellecl: with the ideas of the memory.
But we will speak further of this subject when we come to
treat of thought.
(112.) Such an arrangement, in order, of the parts of
the memory does not come from the senses, but from the
pure intellecl;, and thus from the soul, which is the order,
the love, the truth, the law, the rule of its own system.
But we confound this order with the ideas, or the deter-
mination and order of parts with the parts themselves.
And from our observing that the order is natural or in-
born, we believe that the ideas themselves are inborn also.
(113.) The pure imagination is nothing else than the
power of comprehending and embracing at once all those
things which are obvious to the senses, and which inhere
in the memory. This, in a measure, belongs to brutes ; it
is exercised by somnambulists, and by children whose
imagination is not yet well directed or ordered by the
pure intellecl:.
(114.) There appear, nevertheless, to be rational and
intelligent beings who speak from memory alone, or from
70 THE SOUL.
experience, or from the knowledge of others, and without
a proper intuition of things in connection and orderly
arrangement. These seem to have an intellect to those
who do not know the various parts themselves [that go
to make up this faculty], as to what they are or whether
they exist or not, or to those who still less know how to
combine ideas into the form of the true imagination.
(115.) The imagination is the more perfect in the de-
gree that any one can reproduce the more ideas from his
memory, and at the same time the more similar and har-
monious ones, and from these glide into the field of other
ideas, and so chango these common states into similar or
other common ones, and choose out the parts of each and
dispose the several ones into a suitable form, so that
there may be produced a composed idea such as will agree
with the order of nature. If anything contrary to that
order is admitted, then there is a defect and irregularity,
a weakness, resulting either from ignorance or from ina-
bility to change the states or to reproduce ideas, to rightly
co-ordinate and subordinate these. Or it may arise from
a failure of the pure intellect to communicate with the
ideas of the memory, or from many other causes.
(116.) No speech can originate from imagination alone.
To this both intellecl: and thought are requisite ; for there
is in every composition of words something intellectual,
analytical, and philosophical, — yea, spiritual.
(117.) Every imagination at once ceases as soon as the
cortical glands are deprived of the faculty of undergoing
their mutations ; as when they grow cold and are relaxed
as in certain diseases, in catalepsy, in morsus tarantulae, in
Vitus' dance, and in loss of memory. The glands are de-
prived of this faculty when the blood is obstructed, either
by the relaxing of the vessels or by something that hin-
ders its return to the veins and sinuses. When the fibres
relax, the glands lose their tone, adhere to those next to
them, and become thickened with the more sluggish flow
of humours.
PERCEPTION, IMAGINATION, MEMORY, ETC. Jl
(118.) The internal state of the sensory, indeed, de-
pends on the determination of the simple cortex, and of
the tender fibres of its vessels, of the meninx piissima sur-
rounding it, of the follicle itself, and humour flowing
through. But the external state of the sensory depends
upon its connection with others near it by means of the
very delicate fibrous threads and by the arterial ramifica-
tions, in general by the pia meninx, from the insertion
of the vessels and the production of the fibre. But the
external state, or one still more remote, depends upon the
arterial vessels of the brain, the quality of the blood, upon
the liquids outside the vessels, upon the furrows and chinks
between the cortical masses, upon the connection of the
medullary substance, upon complication and tension, upon
veins, sinuses and the dura mater, upon the form of the
whole brain and its connection with the cerebellum.
(119.) The qualities of the memory and those of the
imagination are most diverse, for there are as many varie-
ties as there are people. There are those who are of quick
memory and imagination, and those who are slow ; those
in whose memory objects are most firmly held, and those in
whom these are suddenly dissipated ; also there are those
who can recall adts after a long time. Yet we are not able
to examine thoroughly the causes of every variety unless
we know rightly the internal state of the cortical glands
and the more perfe6l forms. The reason of all can indeed
be given, and confirmed by the phenomena of experience ;
but here it will suffice to touch only upon the generals of
the subject. From what is related above it is evident
whence these diversities have their origin.
(120.) The imagination vacillates, is intoxicated, be-
comes insane, according as the animal spirit and purer
blood which passes through the little sack of the gland
is obstructed by heterogeneous particles, prickles, and
•things disagreeing ; for then the gland within is pricked
and stimulated into other states than those which are
induced by sensations ; thence is inebriety or inebriate
72 THE SOUL.
insanity. Whether such influences or touches occur irom
within or without, still the gland is disturbed out of its
own natural order.
(121.) Those inclinations into which we are born also
take their origin from thence. For instance, that we are
born poets, musicians, architects, mechanics, or whatever
else, depends more upon the imagination than the intellect ;
for there are persons whose little sensories incline and are
more easily adapted to these than to those changes of
state, and by a natural leading more promptly seize and
reproduce one set of ideas than another. This depends
upon the form itself of the sensory or gland, while the
form is dependent on the simple cortex ; and this depends
on and springs from the soul.
(122.) The internal sight is most acute, and resides in
the top of the cerebrum, for there the cortex is most
distinct and is surrounded by very frequent fissures, so
that it can be disposed for assuming every mode and
every state. It is not so elsewhere in the cerebrum,
still less in the cerebellum, where the sensations are com-
mon and accordingly indistinct. For a universal without
the distinct powers of the particulars is obscure ; and of
such action imagination cannot be predicated.
THE PURE INTELLECT. 73
f&art
THE INTELLECT.
x.
THE PURE INTELLECT.
(123.) Before we treat of the mixed intellect, or of
thought and our rational mind, it is necessary to treat of
the pure intellect ; for thought is as it were a middle be-
between the pure intellect and the imagination, and in a
certain manner draws its essence from both ; for the priors
and posteriors, or the extremes which enter on both sides,
are to be explored in order that the nature of the middle
or the mixed result may be known.
(124.) There is in each cortical gland a certain sub-
stance of the cortex of the brain out of which the simple
fibres arise, just as the medullary or composite fibres arise
from the cortical glantis ; for the cortical gland which we
call the internal little sensory is the cerebrum in its small-
est effigy.
(125.) This simple cortex or simple cortical substance
is that most eminent organ of the pure intellecl:. For it
exceeds in perfection that sensory of the imagination or
perception, that is, the cortical gland, as far as this ex-
ceeds the cerebrum, or as far as sight exceeds hearing ;
for its form itself is superior, and indeed the highest form
of nature, that truly celestial form which was described
above. It knows no higher form except what is spiritual,
and since this substance is placed in the highest apex of
nature, it cannot be indicated by the same terms employed
74 THE SOUL.
in describing inferior substances, for these are too crude
to be so applied. Therefore we can hardly call it the cor-
tex, nor the cortical substance, nor an analogous or emu-
lous cortical substance, nor anything but the most eminent
organ. We may not name it a sensory, for it does not
feel but understands. Wherefore in what follows I shall
.call this the intelleElory*
(126.) The sensory depends upon this intelleclory,
that is, sensation depends upon the pure intellect ; for
there is no sensation nor perception of sensation unless
by some faculty more interior or superior it is understood
what that is which is perceived. The smallest differences
themselves which are in [every] idea, and exist between
single ideas, cannot be distinguished by feeling and per-
ception merely. There must be the intelleftory which
judges and decrees that this idea harmonizes with that
idea or is discordant with it, and that it agrees with
another and with still more which are related or similar ;
so that it may be known what is harmonious, what is par-
ticularly adapted, what pleasant, true and good. There
would therefore be no thought without the pure intel-
lect, still less would there be imagination and sensation.
The very organism of the body depends similarly upon its
intelleftory or inmost sensory. There is no composite
cortex without the simple cortex, such as is that of the
brain ; for from the simple cortex simple fibres arise which
arrange the gland itself through their own determinations.
No cerebrum exists without cortical glands ; no sensory
of the sight, hearing, taste, smell, touch, and thence no
body. Therefore all things regard this intelleflory or
pure intelle6l as their beginning, and at the same time the
sense to which single operations refer themselves.
* For the same reason which in the author's belief justifies his introducing this
new term intelleftorium, the translator believes that he properly uses the new term
intelleftory . It is strictly analogous to the use of sensory for sensorium, and be-
sides (which one reason is alone sufficient) it seems to be the only expression which
exactly answers to that of the author. [ TV.
THE PURE INTELLECT. 75
(127.) This intelleftory recognizes above itself no other
form than spiritual form, that is, the soul itself or the
form of the soul ; whence pure intellect does not recog-
nize above itself anything except pure intelligence, which
is of the soul, because this is spirit. Consequently we
ought not to confound pure intellect with intelligence, or
the intelle6lory with the soul ; for the intellectory whose
form is celestial and the first of nature can understand
nothing from itself, but only from the essence or spiritual
form ; this alone understands, and causes that which next
in order follows to understand. Thus it is evident that our
soul is in a region above the possible perceptions of our
rational mind. For we believe that thought is the highest
and the proper power of the soul itself; but above that
thought, which never exists except as impure or mixed,
there is a purer thought, and above this a spiritual intel-
ligence itself; and still above this there is a wisdom which
is divine and not human ; for intelligence draws its wis-
dom from a divine spirit alone, thus from God.
(128.) Thus the intellectory is born from the soul it-
self; its form is evidently from the soul's essential deter-
minations ; but what this first form may be, after the soul,
cannot be easily expressed in words, since the attributes
and powers of this form are beyond the sphere of common
words. For words express only those things which are
in nature and within the gyre of nature, but not the high-
est and those nearest to spiritual essence. This is why we
have to speak concerning the intelleftory in terms so
general and but slightly intelligible as to their meaning,
and why what is said has to be explained by circumlocu-
tion and by ideas sometimes involved. By means of these
some obscure idea may be obtained, and even a compara-
tively clear one in those minds which are cultivated and
possessed of a more profound judgment.
(129.) It cannot be doubted but that such an intel-
Ie6lory or pure intellect exists, for it manifests itself evi-
dently in the several parts of our thought and speech, to
76 THE SOUL.
which it is nearest, and in which it most intimately resides ;
for we reduce the ideas themselves of the memory, not
unlike those of the sight, in a moment into such an order,
form, and harmony that a certain rational analysis thence
results, which is known to be true or false by a kind of
understanding in our purer thought. For sensations do
not supply any other objects than those which are parts
of the imagination ; but to analytically reduce those into
forms, and thus to conceive and put forth new forms,
which again are parts of a sublime thought, and in them
to observe truths, verisimilitudes, and probabilities from
their connection and order alone — this is not a function of
sensations but of the pure intellect ; neither is it a pro-
cess of thought itself, for the thought is what is reduced
into such a form, and so it is a result from that intellect
which is prior and which produces the intellectual or ra-
tional ideas of the thought.* Such an intellectual, analyt-
ical, philosophical, even spiritual principle is in every sen-
tence and every speech, even of a child. For a child
speaks instantly in a manner more perfectly philosoph-
ical, dialectical, logical, grammatical, than all the Peripa-
tetic and Pythagorean schools could learn to do artificially
and scientifically. This is the reason why we learn philo-
sophical sciences, as logic itself and other theoretical
branches of knowledge, from our own selves and from the
inmost examination of our thoughts and speech, just as
anatomists obtain a knowledge of the body from the in-
spection of the viscera. Wherefore there must be such
an intellect inmost in us which shall prescribe rules and
laws to those operations of our mind which lie equally
hidden from us as the form of the brain, heart, stomach,
lies hidden from him who has never examined the vis-
cera ; therefore the philosophic science is itself a certain
anatomy of the mind, whose medicine is also sought for.
* Compare the Deduction of the Categories in the Transcendental Analytic of
Kant's Critique of Pure Reason, Bohn's edition, pp. 55, 71 et seg. [Tr.
THE PURE INTELLECT. 77
Whence it follows that no thought can exist, and there-
fore no speech, without the inflowing of such an intel-
iea.
(130.) The operation of this intellectory, or this intel-
lect, cannot but be pure, for its form is born of the essen-
tial determinations of the soul. These determinations are
so many spiritual radii or pure intelligences. The form
flowing only from spiritual radii, most perfectly determined,
cannot breathe anything but what is purely intellectual.
What this form is can be perceived by comparison with
the form of the internal sensory, and of this with the form
of the brain ; nevertheless, it cannot be described. It is
indicated, however, analytically by the simple elevation
of perceptions from an inferior to a superior degree, and
by the adding of something perpetual and infinite accord-
ing to the doctrines of order, of degrees, and forms, of
whose laws I have treated above.
(131.) Therefore to describe what the pure intellect is
we must resort to universal terms, as was said, for it is the
very nature of its own body, and the knowledge itself of the
natural things which exist below it. For when the pure
intellect acts it acts from itself, that is, from nature itself
and knowledge, since all things flow into act in agreement
with its intuition. For the pure intellect does not first in-
form itself [from other sources] how and in what manner it
shall act, but from itself and in itself it knows those meas-
urements, laws, rules, and truths, and other things which
are found to be contained, although imperfectly, in the
thought, imagination, external sensation, in the action, and
in the several organs. In all of these there lies hidden what
is the inmost and most abstruse in the sciences, as in the
first philosophy, in logic, in anthropology, dialectics, phys-
iology, physics, geometry, mathematics, mechanics, optics,
acoustics, chemistry, medicine, jurisprudence, ethics, gram-
mar, and in many others of whatever name. We may
clearly behold an example and summary of the sciences
in our whole organic system in its several members, parts,
78 THE SOUL.
and operations, all of which must flow and exist, not from
themselves but from a certain efficient cause in which such
a science is, or which is the science itself, the order, truth,
harmony, and form of forms. These are all universal
terms which apply to the pure intellect. Thus inmostly
in ourselves we possess a most perfect knowledge of all
natural things, and yet we anxiously seek how to learn some
part of this science or of what is within us, or to draw this
hidden knowledge out of its shadow into light. Thus this
pure intellect can be called the science of natural sciences ;
for all single sciences are but parts of some universal
science which we call the philosophy and mathesis of uni-
versals ; for from this the pure intellect can descend into
single parts whenever it wishes. Thus it appears that we
cannot speak concerning this pure intellect otherwise than
abstractly and obscurely.
(132.) This pure intellect comprehends simultaneously
that which thought or our rational mind comprehends
successively, the premises and antecedents for instance at
the same time with the consequents, as in a conclusion or
an analytical equation ; principles and causes at the same
time with the principiates, causates, and effects ; for it
views even effect as already existing in its efficient cause,
thus everything to be formed as already formed, and every-
thing already formed as to be formed ; nor does it hesitate
in thinking out the means, for it takes in the whole com-
plex. A defect alone of instrumental causes hinders its
act ; for it contemplates all things past as present, and at
the same time those future things which evidently flow
connectedly and according to natural order. Thus con-
cerning the operations of this pure intellect, we can neither
predicate movements nor degrees, thus neither time, space,
place, movement, celerity, nor any of those things which
suppose succession and distance ; for its form is the first
of nature, and from this, as from a beginning or beneath it,
the accidents and qualities of nature descend or arise.
For celestial form embraces and, as it were, contemplates
THE PURE INTELLECT. 79
<ill following forms as if existing in itself, when it begins
its operations.
(133.) The pure intellect beholds nothing as verisimilar
or probable, but either as true or false, or how far it is from
truth or falsity ; whence all its ideas are so many natural
truths, and from the truth it sees distinctly falses and falla-
cies, as the eyes distinguish shadows from light. There-
fore its observations consist of so many truths being united
among themselves, whence a universal truth arises. This
is the reason why the more intelligent, or those whose
thought or rational analysis approaches nearer to this pure
intellect, perceive and know many propositions as true or
false at once, and indeed without demonstration a posteri-
ori, from effects, experience, artificial logic, and the sci-
ences of the scholars ; indeed, often to such a degree that
they are indignant that the mind should wish to demon-
strate those things which are clearer, more certain, truer
and higher than all demonstration ; they regard the at-
tempts of such demonstrations as so many dusky shadows,
which do not illustrate but rather obscure. Such are we
when we become pure intelligences or souls, for then we
shall laugh at our literary treatises as child's play, and
we shall regard the entire syllogistic logic as but a boy's
game at odds and evens.
(134.) The pure intellect, whose property it is to know
universal nature and from itself to perceive and to know all
nature's arcana, cannot be instructed by internal senses,
still less by external senses ; for the pure intellect itself has
formed all the senses, internal as well as external, accord-
ing to every idea of its own nature, and has furnished these
with recipient organs before their use ; consequently such
an intellect, which is prior to the senses, can in no wise
be acquired, cultivated, or perfected [by means of them],
but remains just the same from the beginning of life to the
last, whence it is as perfect in the embryo and infant as
in the adult and old man, in Davus as in Oedipus, in an
insane and stupid person as in an eminent philosopher.
So THE SOUL.
The intellect which is capable of being instructed and
perfected is just below the pure intellect ; it is called the
human reason, as also the rational mind. Its operation
is that thought which is never pure but mixed, or which
derives more from ignorance than from intelligence.
These things are the cause of that strife which has arisen
among the learned, Whether there are connate ideas, or
Whether they are acquired, or Whether anything exists in
the intellect which was not first in the sense ; each propos-
ition having its adherents. For there are indications of a
kind of intellect innate in us, and all ideas are found to
be connate ; but the disposition and ordering of the ideas
so that thence an analysis may exist cannot be connate,
for this is something purely intellectual ; at the same time
there would be no ideas to be thus arranged in order ex-
cept they were connate. From this it follows that either
position may be true in a certain sense.*
(135.) From these things it is also evident that the
pure intellect is unable to express and arrange its own
ideas or universal truths through any speech ; for the
parts of speech are so many ideas, images, and forms,
which are to be acquired by the way of the senses, and
which stand far below ; but the pure intellect represents
its own simple and universal analyses in likenesses such as
are seen in dreams, then also through parables and simili-
* " There are no innate ideas or imprinted laws in the human mind, but only in
the soul ; in which, unless ideas and laws were connate, there could be no memory
of the things perceived by the senses and no understanding ; and no animal could
exist and subsist as an organic subject participant of life." (Econ. An. King., part ii.,
no. 300.)
" It appears, then, that both those who advocate the doctrine of connate ideas
and those who oppose it may base their arguments upon the same facts ; showing
that the controversy is not about the truth, but only about the mode in which the
one truth or the other is to be explained. For if ideas are connate in the soul, and
if ideas are procured to the mind, then the two opinions agree, and their reconcilia-
tion comes from the same demonstration as that which shows the communication
between the operations of the soul and of the mind " {ibid, ii., no. 294).
The practical value of Swedenborg's doctrine of the distinction between the mind
\mens\ and the soul \animd\ appears nowhere more manifestly than in the solution
it affords to the difficult problem of innate ideas. See also nos. 308-311, in the
above work. \Tr.
THE PURE INTELLECT. 8 1
tudes, even through fables such as the ancients employed
in the ages nearest to the Golden. For such things at the
same time contain not only particular things but in gen-
eral all things which relate to the same truth. These
things our mind ought to interpret and evolve as the an-
swers of oracles ; for they are all obscure to our intellect,
while in the pure intellect they are in a clearer light ; for
especially are we blind in truths themselves.
(136.) But it is not easily perceived by thought what
the pure intellect is ; it is even questioned whether it ex-
ists ; for thought itself does not comprehend what is
above itself or what is pure, being itself not pure but
mixed. This indeed it does comprehend, that where
there is a mixture there must be something pure with
which the impure is mixed, or that into our thought
where intelligence and ignorance or light and darkness
reign together, there inflows from above a something
intellectual which illumines the sphere of thoughts and
furnishes the faculty of thinking, since the sensations of
the body can in no wise effect this.* Then that there
flows into the same from below, something that is not in-
tellectual, whence the mingling of intelligence and ignor-
ance ; this is our mixed intellect or thought. But the pure
intellect itself is the mediate between the spiritual intel-
ligence of the soul, and the thought of our rational mind.
To perceive what the pure intellect is, we must therefore
inquire what the soul is and what the rational mind, then
also what is the influx of both. These have been treated
of severally, but a short recapitulation will be of use.
* Compare Descartes' Meditationes de Prima Philosophia : — " Dum in me ipsum
mentis aciem converto, non modo intelligo me esse rem incompletam et ab alio depen-
dentem remque ad major a et majora sive meliora indefinite aspirantem, sedsimul etiam
intelligo ilium a quo pendeo, majora ista omnia non indefinite et potentia tantum sed
reipsa infinite in se habere, atque ita Deum esse, totaque vis argumenti in eo est, quod
agnoscam fieri non posse ttt existam talis naturae qualis sum, nempe ideam Dei in
me habens, nisi re vera Deus etiam existeret." Swedenborg's proof of the existence
of a pure intellect bears an interesting analogy to this celebrated argument by which
Descartes sought to prove the existence of God. [ Tr.
82 THE SOUL.
(137.) The soul is pure intelligence, a spiritual essence
and form, thence next above the pure intellect, whose
essence and form is the first of nature or celestial ; for the
intelle6lory itself cannot be formed except from the es-
sential determinations of the soul ; as many determinations
so many radii of spiritual light there are ; for its intelli-
gence is not natural but spiritual, and its science is not
philosophical but metaphysical, pneumatical, and as I may
say theological. From this it follows that its first descend-
ant is the pure intellect, whose property it is to know
most immediately both from itself and in itself all that
which is natural.
(138.) The ideas themselves of the soul are spiritual
truths ; but the ideas of the pure intellecl: are the first
natural truths; the ideas of our intellect are called
reasons, but the ideas of the memory or imagination are
properly called /afow/.the ideas of sight are images and
objefts ; the ideas of hearing are modes, modulations,
words. Such is the subordination of ideas ; wherefore
everything spiritual which is in speech is of the soul ; but
everything intellectual is of the pure intellect, everything
rational is of the thought, and so on.
(139.) But it may be asked, how does the pure intellect
flow into the sphere of thought ? is it an influx, or is it a
correspondence and harmony? This we learn especially
from the form itself of the internal sensory or cortical
gland ; for in this is contained the simple cortical which is
called the intellectorium, just as the cortical substance is
contained in the brain. This simple cortex is the origin of
all the simple fibres, but that of the brain is the origin
of all the medullary fibres and the nerves of the body.
The pure intellect which resides in this above-mentioned
intellectory or simple cortex cannot flow into the sphere
of the thoughts otherwise than as the images of sight or
ideas of imagination into the modes of hearing or into
speech, which is not influx but correspondence ; for the
modes of hearing which are so many articulated vibrations
THE PURE INTELLECT. 83
only move and vibrate the little sensories in common.
Then the sensory itself, from use and experience, knows
at once what such vibration and superficial mutation signi-
fies. Hence its ideas concur, which is said to happen
through correspondence. It is the same with the intel-
lectory or its pure intellect: ; for when the sensory goes
through its mutations of state, then the intelle<5lory com-
monly a£led upon, or as we may say externally brought
into another situation, immediately knows from use and
experience what such a mutation signifies ; and so imme-
diately concurs : thus it is not influx but correspondence.
But concerning this more will be said below, where we
shall treat of thought and intercourse.
THE bOUL.
XL
INTELLECT, THOUGHT, REASONING, AND JUDGMENT,
or,
THE HUMAN INTELLECT.
(140.) There is no thought without imagination, be-
cause there can be none without the ideas of memory,
which are as much parts of thought as of the imagination,
since without memory we cannot think. It is therefore
very hard to perceive distinctly what imagination is and
what thought is. That they are so distinct from each
other and can be distinguished appears in the case of
somnambulists, who see with eyes open and with a sort
of imagination, but often a perverted one because there is
no thought in it ; then again from brute animals, who are
not without imagination even if they are without thought ;
also from those just out of infancy, who begin to prattle
and speak things imagined but not things thought ; many
adults even being like them, varying in their capacity of
thought and fancy. But because there is imagination in
thought, and thought in imagination, we believe thought
to be a certain more perfect and refined imagination,
supposing that these could not be separated, as was said.
It is important, therefore, to enquire more thoroughly
what the one is and what the other.
(141.) Imagination is only a superior and internal
sight. It is exerted when we reproduce single objects in
that order in which they have been seen, as a palace or
edifice with all its external and internal structure, then
also its other furnishings, even to the very masters and
THE HUMAN INTELLECT. 8$
servants who inhabit it, without any other connexion
and order than were observed in the sight and hear-
ing ; it is the same with the cities, provinces, and king-
doms which we have visited. These the internal sight
or imagination observes collectively, while the eye ob-
serves them successively ; then also the human body
itself and its single viscera and parts, their position and
connection, and finally their whole anatomy. So in other
things ; as in the several practical sciences, mechanics,
experimental physics, astronomy, yea, also in theoretical
sciences so far as we have learned and retained these by
memory. Therefore imagination is the reproduced mem-
ory of things seen and heard, and a simultaneous intuition
of them without any further progression into those things
which have not yet been grasped by the sense.
(142.) Thought, indeed, does not rest content in the
reproducing of mere ideas of the memory or of the im-
agination, or in viewing at the same time objects which
have been successively brought before the external sight ;
but it goes farther, for from these and from other similar
things successively run through and represented, it gets
hold of and brings out some new idea never before seen, and
indeed, it does this by means of a certain analysis not
unlike an analysis of infinites, as for instance by the
laws of natural philosophy, and by a mode of reduction,
of transposition and of equation. This equation itself,
formed by means of the mind alone, is called an idea of
thought ; thus an idea of the imagination is that which
has been insinuated through the doors of the senses, but
an idea of thought is that which is formed by the proper
force of the mind from ideas of the imagination, re-
sembling figures in a calculation. These ideas of thought,
which are called rational, intellectual, and immaterial,
once formed, however much compounded, are nevertheless
regarded as simple ideas scarcely otherwise than as inte-
gral equations in algebra and integral analogies assumed
86 THE SOUJ,.
for unity in geometry and arithmetic. The mind distributes
and divides these its own ideas again into some other or-
der or rational form, and thus deduces another analysis
and equation from these ; hence arises a still more per-
fectly rational and intellectual idea. Thus thought is
perfected and becomes more sublime and purer, and ap-
proaches nearer to pure intellect ; and it ascends higher
in that degree in which more ideas drawn into itself are
assumed for simple ideas or truths ; and as from these,
arranged among themselves analytically, a still higher
idea is elicited. In no other way can we be elevated to a
knowledge of the pure intelle6lory, thus not by speech, or
the use of words or of ideas of the imagination, for its
truths are more sublime than words, nor can they be ex-
pressed and laid bare except by such vocal forms as have
been elevated and drawn up to them.
(143.) Such, therefore, is thought ; from the description
of which it is clear what difference there is between it and
the imagination : as, for instance, that the ideas of thought
are acquired by the mind \mens\ itself, but the ideas of
the imagination are only from the external senses ; and
that the thought can be perfected and exalted as it ap-
proaches nearer to pure intellect, but imagination is per-
fected only by experience of the senses, both its own and
those of others ; for whatever the symbols of the memory
are, whether acquired through one's own senses or through
teachers, or through letters, or through tablets, all these
are then ideas of the imagination because they are of the
memory alone, acquired through the senses ; but they are
so many parts and instrumental causes which the rational
mind can make use of in order that thence it may form its
own intellectual ideas and analyses. From this it follows
that so much as we are able to understand but do not
understand so much we hold in the memory ; for the
power of understanding lies in the memory, but from this
potency alone no action follows ; therefore something else
THE HUMAN INTELLECT. 87
must be added in order that we may understand, and still
more that we may acquire wisdom.*
(144.) Thought, therefore, is a superior imagination ;
and as there is a superior imagination, so also there is a
superior memory. The inferior memory is a memory of
all particular things and of those ideas which are insinu-
ated by way of the senses, both of sight and of hearing.
But the superior memory is a memory of general and uni-
versal things and of all those ideas which are formed and
as it were created by means of the mind proper. These
also impress themselves in our memory just as if they
were impressed on the sense, for when we think, the things
thought and the results of these thoughts remain equally
fixed. This memory, however, contains ideas rational,
intellectual, and immaterial ; while on the other hand, the
inferior memory has only ideas of things purely natural
and material. Therefore there is a memory of universals
and a memory of singulars ; and the former is of thought,
but the latter of imagination. These memories, if we ob-
served them more internally, are distin6t from each other,
for there can be a large memory of universals and a small
memory of singulars, and vice versa; for the memory of
universals comprehends in itself singulars which, as sym-
bols of confirmation, can easily be drawn out, or can insin-
uate themselves. In order that singulars may be properly
retained in their order by the memory it is necessary that
we form an idea of all universals, which is called their rea-
son. From this order [of the memory] singulars may be
drawn forth as from a single general rule and knowledge
of calculation ; as in arithmetic and algebra, yea, as also in
other theoretical sciences, we can of ourselves educe an
infinite number of specials and particulars. Thus we are
able to run through in a moment an entire book containing
nothing but examples of particulars, and to understand all
• Compare Aristotle's dodlrine of the Potential and the Adhial in relation to the
vovf or mind, in De Anima, iii. 4, 5. [7X
88 THE SOUL.
the things contained in it as well as the author himself.
For the knowledge of universals can be compared with the
sight, which from a tower or lofty mountain contemplates
the entire region and the city below and the single objects
in one view and glance, as it were ; but he who walks about
below and in the streets only comprehends certain parts
successively, and thus scarcely one out of a thousand of
those things which the memory of universals comprehends
in an instant.
(145.) Imagination, therefore, only takes in the form
of an object, or of objects, and its quality, according to the
order, the placing, and the connecting of the parts or of
the ideas ; but the thought draws forth not the material
form itself of the parts, but out of such a form, or from
similar forms collected together, it obtains a certain sense
not in the visible parts and in the connection of the parts,
but lying hidden within. Wherefore the thought is said
to understand and the imagination to perceive, and the
idea of the thought is called immaterial, and the idea of
imagination material. An intellection \intelle£lio\ is an
inmost sensation.
(146.) Thought can neither exist nor subsist, still less
be perfected, without pure intellect. Pure intellect ap-
pears as though it flowed into the sphere of the thought
to illuminate it by a certain light of intelligence ; but
there is no influx, for it is only a concurrence, a corre-
spondence or an established harmony, in which, indeed,
there is a greater, better and more perfect concurrence
and correspondence, in the degree that the thought is
more elevated. But before plunging our thoughts deeper
into these psychological mysteries we ought to explain
the meanings of the words themselves, or what is meant
by understanding, judgment, thought, meditation, fancy,
genius, and other terms.
(147.) Such is the progress and course of the human
intellect ; for truly what we hear we see, that which we
see we perceive by an inmost sense, that which we per-
THE HUMAN INTELLECT. 89
ceive we understand, from things understood we think,
from things thought we judge, from things judged we
choose, from things chosen we conclude, from things
concluded we will, and at length we act. This whole
process is called the common intellect, in which the
senses of hearing and seeing perform their own parts ;
but not the other senses, as smell, taste, and touch. The
human intellect, or the intellect proper to man, consists
in understanding, in thinking, in judging, in choosing, in
concluding, in willing, and in acting accordingly. This
whole course is, indeed, successively run through, but
very often without the moments and degrees being ob-
served. This velocity itself is called presence of mind, or
according to others, the presence of the animus ; but where
the process is slower it is called absence of mind and slug-
gishness. There can be presence of imagination without
at the same time presence of intellect, and vice versa, for
the one is distinct from the other, as was noted above.
He who promptly perceives singulars or takes them into
the imagination, while the pure intellect promptly but
slightly concurs, is called ingenious, and that faculty [is
called] genius ; but he who promptly understands those
things which he perceives, while the pure intellect fully
concurs, that is, who thinks sublimely and sees things in
a way more harmoniously with the ideas or truths of the
pure intellect, he is said to possess judgment, and that
faculty [is called] judgment. Thus genius is the perfec-
tion of the imagination, but judgment is the perfection
of thought ; or genius draws more from the imagination
and the external senses, but judgment draws more from
pure intellect ; hence genius is the characteristic quality
of the intellect of animals, but judgment is that of the
human intellect. Genius is common to boys, youths, the
female sex, poets and singers ; but judgment is common
to adults, the aged, men, philosophers ; for with age [judg-
ment] matures and increases, whereas genius decreases.
To the most perfect judgment, not only the pure intellect
go THE SOUL.
but also the soul, or spiritual intelligence, communicates
and confers rays of its own light. The parts of the hu-
man intellect or of thought are called rational ideas, or
simply reasons. When these are first brought together
and turned about before a certain judgment is formed
from them, we are said to ratiocinate, and the minor judg-
ments which are formed from them are called ratiocina-
tions. Genius, therefore, does not form judgments [but]
ratiocinations. When these ratiocinations are explained
in speech the whole act is called discourse. But let us
treat more especially of the course and the series of the
parts of the intellect properly human.
(148.) Understanding is a superior perception, and thus
an inmost sensation. When, for instance, those things are
understood which are perceived by an internal sight, I call
it intellect because it is a sensation and a species of pas-
sion, as will be demonstrated below.
(149.) Thought closely succeeds perception, for when
we call forth ideas of memory, one after another, partic-
ular and common, singular and universal, and others simi-
lar and contiguous, then that operation is properly called
thought, or a turning and revolving of the mind toward
every part or idea. More intense and constant thought
fixed deeply on one object is called meditation ; the state
and habit of meditation is called phantasy.
(150.) When ideas or reasons are turned and revolved
in thought they are at length brought into the form of
some equation, into which are brought all the analyses
and rational analogies, scarcely otherwise than in the
analytical calculus of infinites. This equation is called
judgment, to which belong merely those things referring
to the matter proposed. The more perfect the form
of the equation and the more similar and harmonious
the things to be found in it so much the more per-
fect is the judgment ; but it belongs to the pure intel-
lect to perceive similitudes, consistencies, harmonies and
truths; hence it is an exact judgment when the rational
THE HUMAN INTELLECT. pi
mind has called the purer intellect into a closer inter-
course.
(151.) It is from this analytical or rational equation,
that is, from this judgment, that innumerable reasons and
analogies are brought forward and collected. One reason
is called forth after another in order ; for, that we may
know what an algebraic equation contains in itself, one
thing after another must be evolved, otherwise we per-
ceive nothing distinctly, nor will the mind be able to de-
termine or follow the particulars distinctly in act. This
equation, therefore, must be resolved again before we can
understand what, it contains. The whole equation cannot
be evolved at the same time, since its parts or analogies
have entered into it successively and are in it simultane-
ously ; these have therefore to be successively evolved.
This operation is without a proper name, unless it may
be called election, which being free coincides with free will
or with the liberty of willing and acting. For this will
choses freely, and thus concludes what is to be deduced
from that rational equation or from the judgment, and
what is to be sent into the will. It may on this account
be called the conclusion. The completion of all is the will.
Following this, and in it, is determination, from whence
arises action, and from the action the effe£l. But before
it is concluded that anything must be sent from the in-
tellect into the will, and from the will determined through
an action, there will have to be present also the love or
desire of a certain end. For this reason I have not been
able to treat of the will until these loves and desires
have been first considered.
(152.) This properly human intellect now described is
called thought ; and in what follows we shall make use of
the word thought. The question then arises, How does
thought operate ? It appears from the description that it
operates like the imagination, that is to say, by changing
the state of the sensory or of the cortical gland. But
there are common and particular, general, special and
92 THE SOUL.
individual, universal and singular changes of the state of
that sensory, and these which embrace particulars, indi-
viduals and singulars are properly thoughts, for they are
induced and formed by thought itself. Since the state
thus formed, in order to embrace single particulars, at first
obscurely but afterwards distinctly, is not a state of the
imagination, for this is concerned only with particulars
and singulars. That there are infinite states and infinite
changes of state the mind can hardly conceive, or how
many analogies simple and compound there are, and how
many series of analogies, or that these are capable of re-
duction one into another ; but experience shows that these
do exist and are actually represented, and the very per-
fection of superior beings consists of this faculty of
changing the state. Since, therefore, the cortical gland or
the internal sensory can put on so many changes of state
it follows that the intellectory or inmost cerebrum, that
is, the simple cortex, must be able to produce still more,
even to infinity. For example, let us take certain thoughts
reduced to an equation or general formula ; then in this
equation as in a general or common state there may be a
thousand analyses. Therefore there must be a state of
the common sensory which comprehends all distinctly.
This is observed in speech itself and in writings, for one
particular is educed after another, and the more distinctly
this is done so much the more distinctly do they inhere
in the equation [or proposition] ; for we observe the sin-
gulars under a state common to all. This is so evident
that by reflection alone we may see it to be true.
(153.) But as it has been said that pure intellect does
not flow into the sphere of thoughts, but concurs with
thoughts or with changes of state, it must now be explained
in what way that act follows. First let us get a clear idea
concerning the form of the internal sensory or of the
cortical gland, namely, that it is indeed the cerebrum in
the smallest fonm, with its simple cortex and its simple
medulla like the large cerebrum, but more perfectly con-
THE HUMAN INTELLECT. 93
stru&ed. The change of state of the above-mentioned
internal sensory itself is not able to effecl: any change
of state in the intelleclory or in the simple cortex, just
as the change of state of the entire cerebrum does not
change the state of any of its parts but only the external
state of the parts, that is, their position, their connection
and mutual relation. But since the external state agrees
with the internal, or as the state of the parts cannot
help being in agreement in some way with the internal
states or with itself, it follows that the change of the
external state announces and shows at once that there is
a change of internal state, and of what kind it is. While
the internal state is rendered conscious of this change it
perceives at once what it means, precisely as the words
or speech perceived by the hearing are turned immediately
as it were into ideas as of things seen, not by influx but
by correspondence. For an idea can be expressed by
another word and a different articulate sound and still the
same idea will recur, as whether we. speak the same sen-
tence in Greek, Latin, French, Italian, English, or Swed-
ish, still the same visual idea is presented. It is the use
and culture, then, itself that causes that one idea corre-
sponds to another. The same relation holds with the
ideas of memory, of imagination, of thought, and of the
pure intellect. An internal change of state of the sens-
ory is an external change of state of the intelleclory,
but by use and experience the intelleclory perceives
from this external change of state what such a change
means ; at once it concurs, and by its concurrence pro-
duces a corresponding idea of the pure intellect. Ac-
cordingly the more universal, general, and common the
change of state is so much the more distinctly is it per-
ceived, as the essence and nature of the intellectory is
thus more nearly reached. For all ideas are universal
truths, and by verbal terminations they may be made
more abstract.
(154.) From this it follows that we are able to come
94 THE SOUL.
nearer and nearer to the pure intellect, and indeed, by
means of universal ideas and a certain passive power;
that as we remove particular ideas or withdraw the mind
from limitations — from the more broken, limited and ma-
terial ideas, and at the same time from desires and loves
which are purely natural, — then the human intellect,
quiet and free from foreign disturbance, and dwelling
alone with its own and what belongs to pure intellect,
causes that our mind shall not suffer other changes or give
forth other reasons than those which accord with the
ideas of pure intellect. On this account our intellect
experiences an inmost tranquillity and joy ; for then this
concurrence appears like the influx of a certain light
of intelligence, illumining the whole sphere of thought ;
and in a kind of unanimity, I know not whence, it con-
strains the whole mind, and inmostly dictates what is
true and good and what is false or evil. In this way our
intellect is perfected by the maturing judgment ; and, if I
may speak from theoretical anatomy itself, when the mind
comes into this state it is seen that then the simple me-
dulla itself consists of simple fibres only, with a few ves-
sels ; for as many as are the simple fibres so many are
the intellectual rays of pure intellect ; but as many as
are the vessels so many are the shades which darken the
luminous or intellectual rays. But these observations
are offered merely in passing.
(155.) From these things it already appears how the
human intellect may be perfected ; thus that in tender
infancy there is none, that it may be increased in youth,
perfected in adult age, that the judgment afterwards in-
creases, while the genius or imagination decreases. For
there can be no thought in infancy and still less in the
embryo ; wherefore there is a concurrence, correspond-
ence, or established harmony, but not influx. Use and
cultivation will bring about the correspondence and
harmony, since the pure intellect concurs with every
perceived change. But still, whether in the embryo
THE HUMAN INTELLECT. 95
or in the infant, or in a stupid, or in an insane person,
the pure intellect remains always the same ; for it can-
not unfold itself before it perceives the changes of
state to which it shall correspond, nor can the sensory
change its own states unless it shall learn how to do so
by the use and the influx of the external sensations, as
has been noted above. Thus the pure intellect comes
forth and emerges just as from a prison in which it has
been shut up, or from its own inmost bosom, according
to the induced mutability [or power of change]. Thus
appears what has been present from the beginning of form-
ation, but could not sooner evolve itself; and when it
does evolve itself, which takes place in the course of age,
then it exhibits itself as most present in every instant,
in the single forms and harmonies of words, and in finding
out their inmost meaning from the connection and order
of the ideas alone.
(156.) But experience itself as well as theory proves
that the human intellect proper depends little upon its
pure intellect, but rather upon what is imagined, and even
that the imagination depends more upon its sensations
than upon its own intellect or thought ; thence is our in-
tellect exceedingly impure, so much so that it deserves
rather to be called spurious and adulterous. Nevertheless
it appears to us so beautiful and pure that we believe it
to be the soul itself, which is not pure intellect merely,
but even spiritual intelligence. How mistaken all this is
appears from the mere statement. Our intellect is even
so alienated ofttimes from the pure intellect that they
combat each other, the one acknowledging worldly things
as truths, the other knowing them to be wholly menda-
cious and that their fallacious ornaments pass them off
for truths to gain applause.
(157.) Meanwhile, in order that the human intellect
may exist, it is necessary that the truths themselves be
variegated and as it were modified by things mendacious,
or true things with false, good with evil. From this
96 THE SOUL.
mixed and relative variety and this coming together of
opposites there arises a rational analysis. First it gives
birth to opinion, hypothesis, some unknown principle, and
many other things proper to the human intellect. With-
out a variation of intelligence and ignorance, thought and
judgment can no more exist than a visual image without
light and shade ; which is the reason why light and clear-
ness are predicated of intelligence, and shade and dark-
ness of ignorance, for these have a mutual correspond-
ence. Without such a variation there would be no society
on the earth, no diversity of thought, manners, actions,
bodies, no affirmations or negations, no uncertain results
of things, no auguries, indeed no desires of ends to be
attained, no terrestial loves, none of all those other things
which as necessities contribute to human society itself.
Neither would there be any speech or communication of
thought by means of discourse unless by some superior
or angelic discourse, which has nothing to do with earthly
things.
(158.) The various kinds of insanity, which are infinite
in number, originate from thence, that the states of the
sensories are so perverted that they can undergo no
changes except what are irregular and in disagreement
with the pure intellect ; and as the intelle6lory concurs
[with the changes of the sensory] it concurs by the same
law even with these [disorderly ones], and thus seems to
consent, even though it wholly dissents. Thus it is the
thought itself or the human intellect which is insane, and
not the pure intellect.
THE INTERCOURSE OF SOUL AND BODY. 97
XIL
OF THE INTERCOURSE OF THE SOUL AND THE BODY.
(159.) It will be vain to inquire how the soul commu-
nicates with the body, unless it first be ascertained what
the soul and what the body is, as also what is sensation,
imagination, thought, the pure intellect, the spiritual [in-
telligence*], what is will and action, what are the internal
and external organs both of sense and motion, what is
the connection of the organism, and a vast number of
other points. For so long as it is unknown what the soul
and the body are, and what mediates between these, all
co-operation, communication, and intercourse must neces-
sarily remain unknown. Only the unknown can be educed
from the unknown ; and about things whose essentials are
unknown to us we can only speak ignorantly, however
long we keep on talking. But still I will admit that I
seem to myself not to have arrived at a single part of so
vast a thought, supposing the thought itself to consist
of myriads of myriads of parts, but only to have gathered
up an obscure idea from what has been premised. But it
may be more clearly seen that external sensations, and
likewise actions, communicate with internal and the in-
most sensations, even with the soul and its intelligence ;
for it is of the soul, which is the motive principle, the life
and essence of our body, that in the body we live, move,
and are.
(160.) This communication appears as though it were
influx, for the mode and image of the outer sense seem
* Compare number 166. f Tr.
98 THE SOUL.
to pass over into the idea of the inner sense ; but lest the
appearance should deceive us, let us penetrate by rational
intuition into the very connections themselves of things,
otherwise we shall easily mistake fallacies for truths.
(161.) It is evident that articulate sounds or words, or
modes of hearing, in the brain or in the common sensory,
are turned into ideas similar to those of sight, or into so
many images ; as when with words or in speech we de-
scribe a house or palace, a city, meadows, fields, the sky,
and other things, at once the idea of these things is re-
presented ; but this communication or intercourse cannot
be called influx nor harmony, but an acquired correspond-
ence. The sound of these words is only a vibration, which
cannot call forth an idea like that of sight. For whether
we speak of palaces, cities, and fields in French, English,
Latin, or Greek, this same idea is awakened, although
the sound or the articulation of the sound is altogether
different. But this correspondence is acquired by use and
culture, for we learn to speak the language, and thus that
such a modulation means such an image or such a villa or
picture ; as often as that articulation of sound returns so
often the same idea returns. A physical and anatomical
reason can also be given ; for the sounds themselves,
whether articulate and compound or simple sounds, put in
trembling motion the fibres, the cortex, and the meninges.
This trembling causes to vibrate the substances them-
selves, and it produces an alternate local motion of their
parts. This alternate vibration induces no change in the
internal state of the parts, but only in their external state
or in the brain itself. Still the parts themselves, on account
of the connection which they mutually hold and maintain
among themselves, as also on account of the form itself,
that is, their situation and order, perceive at once not only
that there is a mutation but even what kind of a muta-
tion is induced, and from use they learn what such a
mutation means ; consequently the sensory at length con-
curs with its idea.
THE INTERCOURSE OF SOUL AND BODY. 99
(162.) But besides this acquired correspondence be-
tween the articulate sounds of speech or of hearing, and
the ideas of the internal sight or imagination, there is
also a natural correspondence, which flows not from the
sounds themselves as sounds, but from their harmony, as
from the melody of a song, from musical harmony, from
the symmetry of words, or from the rising and falling of
the voice in speaking, as also from the sound even of cer-
tain words which are called natural utterances ; for they
immediately excite the mind, affecting it either with love,
or joy, or grief; such also is the speech of the brute ani-
mals. The cause is the same, originating doubtless from
the connection, situation, order, form, or mutual harmony
of the parts of the brain among themselves ; which har-
mony corresponds with the form and internal state of the
parts. For the form next below descends from the form
above, and is thus born into a likeness of its superior, its
prior, or its parent,
(163.) The communication of external with internal
sight, or of the sensation of ocular sight with the imagin-
ation, takes place by natural correspondence. As for the
sight itself, this does not exist in the eye, but in the com-
mon sensory or cortical brain ; it indeed passes through
the eye, but it does not stop until by means of the fibres
of the optic nerve and the medullary [substances] of the
brain, it has raised itself or ascended even to the origins
of the fibres, or to the cortical substance of the brain. As
soon as it touches those origins it diffuses itself over their
entire surface, and consequently through the entire struct-
ure ; thus the ocular sight exists in this sensory itself, be-
tween which and the eye there is a continuous connection ;
this communication may in a certain sense be called influx,
but it is rather the presence in the internal sensory of that
image which was in the external. It is only sight, how-
ever ; it is not imagination. Likewise with the hearing,
which is not an activity of the ear, but properly of the
brain ; for it is conducted by continuous fibres even to
100 THE SOUL.
the brain; and thus the hearing and the sight can be
brought together. For the hearing is an experience of
the whole brain, and is a trembling of its parts ; while
the sight is an experience of the parts of the brain, or of
the little brains, that is, the cortical glandules, and it is
accomplished by a still more subtle trembling which
causes to vibrate very slightly every part of its surface
and structure. But, further, the communication of the
sight with the imagination takes place through both the
natural and the acquired correspondence at once ; for while
the images and phenomena of the ocular sight appeal to
this common sensory, or to its own inner little sensories,
the harmony itself of the object, of the images or of the
phenomena, affects the sensory or these little sensories in
such manner that at once their state undergoes a certain
change; for the harmonious exhilarates, expands and de-
lights the sensory, while the inharmonious contracts, twists
and grieves it. There are infinite such changes of state, as
many, indeed, as there are kinds and species of harmonies
and discords, and as many as there are generic, specific
and individual differences, and as many as there are rela-
tions between opposites. Thus it is not the sight itself,
but it is the harmony in the objects or between the objects
of sight which induces this change. It is the same with
the eye itself, and with the ear, which change their state
according to the quality of the object presented. For the
eye, like the body itself and its every fibre, even when most
lightly touched, either contracts or expands, drawing itself
in at that which would injure it and expanding itself at
everything which would delight and restore it. Such also
is the affection of the brain in common ae produced by the
harmony of sounds ; this change of the sensory takes place
by natural correspondence ; the harmony is that of the
parts among themselves, since an order intervenes, and a
form is there which we declare to be the vortical ; and such
as is the harmony such is the correspondence. The brain
and the human sensory are indeed formed into such a cor-
THE INTERCOURSE OF SOUL AND BODY. IOI
respondence, but as to the changes of state, these exist
therein, not in act but in potency ; unlike the case of
brute animals, in which these are in acl: from the very
birth ; which is the reason why such changes of state are
to be induced in man by use and culture, or actually, and
why when they are induced they remain as aquisitions.
Thence comes the memory and its ideas, and when these
are reproduced then imagination exists. Therefore be-
tween the sight and the imagination there intercedes a
communication by acquired correspondence, which presup-
poses a natural correspondence ; for in this instance the
one cannot be without the 'other.
(164.) But the imagination does not communicate with
the thought by any correspondence natural or acquired,
for thought itself is equally with the imagination a change
of state ; it is, indeed, a more perfect imagination, the
changes of whose states are induced by the habit of
imagining abstractly from the sensations of sight. We
have therefore to inquire what is the communication be-
tween the imagination or thought and the pure intellect ;
for in the degree that the imagination communicates
the more nearly and perfectly with the pure intellect the
more perfect does it become, and it is called thought and
the purer and more rational intellect.
(165.) Communication is effected between thought and
the pure intellect equally by natural and acquired corre-
spondence; for the one presupposes the other. For the pure
intellectory is constituted of a certain simple cortical sub-
stance analogous to that which is in the brain ; and since
the internal sensory or cortical gland is the brain in its
smallest form, and accordingly more simple and perfect,
therefore from the brain and from the communication of
hearing and sight with the imagination we may learn what
is the communication of imagination or of thought with
the pure intellect or with the intellectory, that is, with
that simple and analogous cortical substance. The ideas
themselves of the imagination or of thought induce a
IO2 THE SOUL.
change of state in the external intelle&ory, for they dis-
turb those simple substances in their position, their con-
nection, and their order, and so change the form and
harmony of their state ; consequently this intelle6tory
understands from use what such a change signifies, and
thence arises and is formed a correspondence which is to
be called acquired ; but the harmony itself in and between
the ideas which are the rational and intellectual ideas of
the mind [mens] affecl: the intellectory itself, not other-
wise than as the harmony of objects of sight affecl: the
sensory itself, and thus arises a natural correspondence.
This harmony is not the same as that of the objects of
sight, but is a rational harmony, and has for its obje6l the
true and the false, the morally good and bad. The harmo-
ny itself in the good and between the good is called love,
which allures, and produces a rational pleasure, and excites
the desire that the effe6l of love may be obtained, which
effect is called the end desired. Such harmony, love, ra-
tional delight, and end, in the ideas themselves and among
them, naturally affecl: the pure intellectory, whose ideas are
pure natural truths and its harmonies pure natural good-
nesses. There need be the less doubt regarding the natural
correspondence, since we perceive by reflection alone that
there is something interior in our thought which con-
sents or dissents, affirms or denies, and that the truths
themselves in certain propositions shine forth naturally
as if from themselves ; thus that there is a certain inter-
nal man which corresponds with the external man. That
there is also an acquired correspondence appears from this,
that those ideas which are reproduced by changes of the
state of the sensory are certain natural ones agreeing
with the harmonies of the objects in and among them-
selves, but that those harmonies are still to be artificially
co-ordinated and composed that the intelleftory may de-
rive a sense from them and understand what they signify.
For the intelleftory itself is not bound to ideas and
words, but in order that it may understand the meaning of
THE INTERCOURSE OF SOUL AND BODY. 10$
words it must know from use what a certain change [of
its state] implies. Meanwhile we may incline to either
opinion, as to whether the intellectory, because not im-
mediately connected with ideas nor instructed by them,
knows naturally and of itself what a change of its ex-
ternal state means ; concerning these points I am in
doubt.*
(166.) But it will now be asked, What is the commu-
nication between the pure intellect and the soul ? That
intellectory which is assimilated to a certain simple cor-
tex from which the simple fibres shoot forth as so many
intellectual rays, cannot be the soul itself, for the intellect -
ory must be created and formed out of substances which
have a superior form, essence, and spiritual intelligence.
That that communication is a correspondence will be un-
derstood from the parallelism or analogy furnished above ;
for the soul itself, which has formed this intellectory, per-
ceives a change of its state, as though outside of itself, as
often as the intellectory experiences its changes. Such
accordingly is the correspondence that the soul, from
itself, without previous exercise or experience, understands
what these changes mean. For the pure intellect is not
instructed by the experience of the senses, still less the
soul which has established this its intellectory ; as may
be proved by innumerable psychological phenomena, as
from this universal proposition, which may be affirmed as
it were at will and without arguments a posteriori, namely,
That the natural cannot flow into the spiritual, or that the
rational man does not learn that which is purely spiritual
from himself. The intellectory itself is the first form of
nature, thence the first natural ; but the soul is spiritual
and above the natural, although through the pure intellect
it operates that which is natural.
(167.) From this it will now appear that the inter-
* The Author adds here in the margin : " I believe that it is a natural and not an
acquired correspondence." [Tr.
104 THE SOUL.
course between the sensations of the body does not take
place by any influx whatever, least of all by a physical
influx, unless we wish to understand by influx a natural
correspondence, but even then it is an influx of the har-
mony itself and not an influx of the things which form
the harmony. The author of Occasional Causes seems
to have understood such an influx [of harmony to exist].
The natural correspondence itself coincides with pre-
established harmony, and the acquired correspondence
with the co-established harmony ; for even the natural
correspondence itself flows from the co-established har-
mony, which in the soul is indeed pre-established, but
between the soul and intellect, and between this and the
thought, is co-established ; still, existing as it has before
other correspondences have been formed, it may be said
to be pre-established, or established before those har-
monies. In this way may be reconciled the hypotheses
regarding the intercourse of the body and the soul ; of
those, namely, who assert occasional causes, those claiming
a physical influx, and of those who claim a pre-established
harmony ;* for the ways, modes, and differences of com-
* " Descartes considered body and spirit as constituting a dualism of perfectly
heterogeneous entities, separated in nature by an absolute and unfilled interval.
Hence the interaction between soul and body, as asserted by him, was inconceivable,
although supported in his theory by the postulate of divine assistance. Hence Geu-
linx, the Cartesian, developed the theory of Occasionalism, or the doctrine that on
the occasion of each psychical process God affects the corresponding motion in the
body, and vice versa." — Ueberweg, History of Philosophy, ii. p. 42.
" It is not possible, says Leibnitz, that the soul or any other true substance should
receive anything from without, unless through the Divine omnipotence. . . . There is
no influxus physicus between any created substances, hence not between the sub-
stance which is the soul and the substances which make up its body. . . . Further,
the soul cannot, as Descartes supposed, influence or modify the direction of the bodily
motions. . . . The doctrine of Occasionalism makes miracles of the most common
events, since it represents God as constantly interfering anew with the course of na-
ture.
" It is, rather, true that God from the beginning so created soul and body and all
other substances, that while each follows the law of its internal development with
perfect independence \spontaneit(\, each remains at the same time at every instant in
complete agreement \conformite\ with all the rest (hence that the soul following the
law of the association of ideas, has a painful sensation at the same instant in which tho
body is struck or wounded, and conversely, that the arm conforming to the law of
THE INTERCOURSE OF SOUL AND BODY. 10$
munication being rightly understood, the writings of the
three schools are seen to agree. On account of this agree-
mechanics, is extended at the same instant in which a particular desire arises in the
soul, etc.).
" The relation of this theory of Pre-established Harmony to the two other possible
explanations of the correspondence between soul and body is illustrated by Leibnitz
through the following comparison : A constant agreement between two clocks can be
effected in either one of three ways, the first of which corresponds with the doctrine
of a Physical Interaction between body and sou), the second with the doctrine of Oc-
casionalism, and the third with the system of Pre-established Harmony. Either both
clocks may be so connected with each other, through some sort of mechanism, that
the motion of the one shall exert a determining influence on the motion of the other,
or some one may be charged constantly to set the one so that it may agree with the
other, or both may have been constructed in the beginning with such perfect exact-
ness that their permanent agreement can be reckoned on without the interference of
the rectifying hand of the workman. Since Leibnitz held the exertion of a physical
influence by the soul on the body, or vice versa, to be impossible, it only remained
for him to choose between the last two theories, and he decided in favour of the theory
of a ' •consentement prletabli,' because he considered this way of securing agreement
more natural and worthy of God than that of occasional interference." — Ibid., p. 109.
To the three theories of intercourse between body and soul here named, namely,
Physical Influx, Occasional Influx, and Pre-established Harmony, Swedenborg evi-
dently does not intend to add a third, but rather hopes to find a term which shall be
inclusive of the truth concealed in all the three. This he finds in Correspondence,
when understood in its two senses, namely, as Natural and Acquired ; the Natural
Correspondence arising from a pre-established harmony in the soul, which however is
a co-established harmony or occasional influx in each instance of bodily action. In his
later theological writings Swedenborg emphatically declares for the theory of Occa-
sional Influx, which he designates distinctly as "Spiritual Influx" or that of "the
soul into the body," as maintained by the " followers of Descartes." " This theory,"
he says, " originates in order and its laws. For the soul is a spiritual substance, and
therefore purer, prior, and interior ; but the body is material and therefore grosser,
posterior, and exterior ; and it is according to order that the purer should flow into
the grosser, the prior into the posterior, and the interior into the exterior, thus what
is spiritual into what is material, and not the contrary ; consequently for the cogitat-
ive mind 10 flow into the sight according to the state induced on the eyes by the ob-
jefts before them, which state that mind disposes also at its pleasure, and likewise for
the perceptive mind to flow into the hearing, according to the state induced on the
ears by speech."
The other two theories, both that of Physical Influx which he attributes to Aris-
totle and the Schoolmen, and that of Pre-established Harmony which he attributes
to Leibnitz, he repudiates as arising from appearances and fallacies, it being a " fallacy
of the reasoning faculty to establish that which is simultaneous and to exclude that
which is successive. For the mind in its operation acts as a one and simultaneously
with the body ; but still, every operation is first successive and afterwards simulta-
neous. Now, successive operation is Influx and simultaneous operation is Harmony ,
as when the mind thinks and afterward speaks, or when it wills and afterward acts."
See the tract On the Intercourse of the Soul and the Body, nos. 1-18. By simulta-
neous operation and harmony are here apparently meant the same as what in the pres-
ent number the author calls natural correspondence and pre-established harmony,
while successive operation and influx coincide with the acquired correspondence
and co-established harmony. [TV.
106 THE SOUL.
ment I would wish that this intercourse might be said to
take place by correspondence. For so do these hypoth-
eses also mutually correspond.
(168.) But this intercourse or communication is that
of the bodily senses with the soul. It may be asked
what is the communication of the actions with the soul,
since, indeed, both body and soul possess the power of
acting as well as of being acted upon. Even the passion
or sensation itself performs a certain gyre and goes over
into action ; for it has been shown that the internal
sensory perceives and understands ; it revolves the things
understood, or it thinks ; from things thought over it
judges ; from things judged it selects what agrees, and so
it concludes, wishes, determines, acts, and thus by action
produces an effect agreeing with the end desired and un-
derstood. Such being the gyre which takes place before
a sensation passes over into action, it is asked what is the
intercourse of the actions of the body with the soul.
(169.) The cortical brain is a common motory as well
as a common sensory ; from this depend the actions of
the body which take place through the muscles. This
common motory or cortex of the brain actually expands
and contracts itself while it is determining any action ;
and this constriction and expansion is called determina-
tion. By this expansion and constriction, or by the sys-
tole and diastole, it expels through the composite and
simple fibres its animal spirit and purer blood which pro-
duce that action, and thence there is a real communica-
tion of operations by means of a fluid. Hence there is in
the sensory the force itself acting or determining ; but
in the muscle there is the action which takes place through
the connection and influx of the fibres and of the fluid
in the fibres into the motor-fibres of the muscle, according
to the nature of the determining force and the form and
organism of the muscles. For according to the rule, from
force follows action. But how the will produces this force
may be understood by comparison with endeavour. The
THE INTERCOURSE OF SOUL AND BODY. IO/
will is as it were endeavour ; this when resistence is
removed breaks into open motion. So the will when
rational obstacles or impossibilities are removed breaks
into open action. Thus the will is as it were a perpetual
effort to expand and contract its sensory as soon as the
intellect perceives that nothing opposes.
(170.) But the pure intellect or the intellectory concurs
by consent with this force or first action ; for the sensory
cannot be expanded or constricted unless the intellectory
consents, since to this belong the simple fibres, yea, the
beginnings of the simple fibres, which unless they concur
no action whatever can be determined. For in order
that the purer blood may be determined through the
medullary fibre of the brain, and the nerve of the body
into the motor fibres of the muscle, it is also necessary
that the animal spirit shall at the same time be deter-
mined through the simple fibres ; without the agreement
of both, the animal machine would labor and the fibres be
broken asunder. To the sensory itself is given the power
of changing its internal state, which is the external state
of the intellectory ; therefore whether the intellectory
wills or not, still it must concur ; for unless it favors by
consent and concurs, the external state of the intellectory
itself, the internal state of the sensory, as also of the
brain which is the external state of the sensory, and
hence the state of the whole body, would run the risk of
perishing and of becoming extinct and void. Hence the
necessity of preserving health and integrity enjoins that
the intellect shall descend into those parts and consent.
We say "favor with consent" when loves and ends agree,
or correspond ; otherwise we say simple "concur ;" for in
order that there may be action there will be a principal
cause, etc.
(171.) But indeed, when no rational will precedes, as
in the cerebellum and in the brain itself during sleep, then
^very force begins immediately in the pure intellect, the
natural necessity itself and the safety of the whole king-
IO8 THE SOUL.
dom impelling. For the intellect is in a moment ren-
dered conscious even of every minutest change of its
body and of its parts, which is the reason why the intel-
lect restores what the will destroys, and why the will is
so blind that it may drive its body at any moment upon
the rocks, like the sailor the ship, while the intellect in
the time of the sensory's quiet and of sleep sets it free
again and brings it always into a new port. This is
called instinct, for the human intellect does not become
conscious of its operations ; inasmuch as whatever flows
immediately from the pure intellect does not come to the
consciousness of our mind. This is the reason why that
stupendous economy of the natural body flows spontane-
ously, as it were, by a most constant law, according to
all the science of nature ; for the pure intellect is itself
science, harmony, order, truth.
(172.) The soul does not concur with the pure intel-
lect by consent, for producing action, but by permission ;
for it suffers the sensory to act, otherwise there would be
no free choice of moral good and evil ; for as soon as the
soul perceives from the consent of the intellectory that
the sensory wishes to operate, in a certain way it suffers
and permits the animal machine which is below itself so
to act, as likewise the intellectory itself in the case of
night-walkers ; for all the soul's liberty of acting in its own
body is, since the fall of the first man, taken away, and
given to the sensory ; all that is left to the soul is that
it may supply and maintain in the several parts \singulis\
the faculty or power of acting and of suffering.
(173.) From these things it will appear how the soul
concurs with the actions of her body, namely, by permit-
ting ; while the pure intellectory concurs by consenting ;
but the sensory by active force or by acting : from this
follows the action of the muscle which is held to act and
to obey just as the sensory orders, and thus the body
concurs by obeying.
(174.) But it is further asked, How does the soul com-
THE INTERCOURSE OF SOUL AND BODY. 109
municate with the motory and sensory organ of her body
so that she may supply to them the faculty of afling
and of feeling, and sustain this faculty ? From what has
been above stated it plainly appears that there is a
soul which feels ; that is to say, it sees, hears, tastes,
perceives, thinks, understands, judges, wills ; or that the
body derives from the soul its power of feeling and of
a6ling. But this is not a communication or intercourse ;
it is the presence itself of the soul, which actually is in
the whole and in every part of her body. For there is
no external motory or sensory organ which does not
consist of vessels and fibres ; no vessel which is not
constructed out of fibres, no such fibre which is not con-
structed out of simple fibres, and no simple fibre which
does not derive its origin from the intelle6lory, which
itself is derived from the substances of its soul ; conse-
quently there is no external motory or sensory organ
which does not derive its essence from the soul ; thus
there is a real presence or a kind of omnipresence of the
soul everywhere, which forms the organs so that they shall
perceive thus and not otherwise ; for every one [of these]
derives from its form that it is such as it is taken to be.
Especially also the soul conduces the single fibres in
which she entirely resides, from the organs to the brain,
where she has formed the common sensory which perceives
distinctly things presented, and understands them in its
manner. For the sensory derives from its form also that
it is what it is, and that particulars communicate by a
certain correspondence with one another and at the same
time with the man himself, so that he may know those
things which occur and happen without.
110 THE SOUL,
THE AFFECTIONS.
XIII.
OF HARMONIES, AND THE AFFECTIONS THENCE ORIG-
INATING, AND OF THE DESIRES IN GENERAL.
(175.) There is no entity and no substance in the uni-
verse without form; that it is anything and that it is such
as it is, is owing wholly to form. The essential determina-
tions constitute form ; and what those essences are which
are determined cannot be conceived without the idea of
parts or of substances, nor this determination itself with-
out the idea of fluxion or co-existence ; these substances
themselves are called determinating, and that which is
determined by substances is a new but composite sub-
stance, in which there is form.
(176.) The substances which determine themselves or
are determined hold a mutual relation, and this is called
analogy ; the analogy of all the determinations, whether
it be successive or simultaneous, is called Harmony or
Discord. Therefore each form has either its harmony 'or
discord. From the harmony or the discord is known the
quality of the form.
(177.) As forms are perfect or imperfect so also are
the harmonies. There are forms which in themselves and
by their nature are most perfect, and those which are in
themselves and by their nature most imperfe6l, between
which there are infinite degrees ; so with the harmonies.
HARMONIES, AFFECTIONS, AND DESIRES. I:M
Forms and harmonies are most perfect in themselves and
by their own nature when this is perfect. But forms and
harmonies are also imperfe6l by nature, but this is then
called an imperfect nature. The nearer the forms ap-
proach to perfect nature so much the more harmonious
are they, and vice versa.
(178.) The forms which are more simple, prior, and
superior, in themselves and by their nature are more per-
fect than the composite, the posterior, and inferior forms ;
likewise the harmonies. But from examples : — The most
perfect angular form or form of angles is the equilateral
triangle or a figure of three similar corners ; the more im-
perfect angular form is the oblong, the parallelogram, the
trapezium, and others similar. The spherical or circular
form is in itself and by its nature more perfect than the
triangular form, but the most perfect of the spherical
forms is the circular ; less perfect are the ellipses, cycloids,
parabolae, and others. Likewise in superior forms, whether
it be in spiral, vortical, celestial or spiritual. Such as are
the forms such are the harmonies, which derive their entire
•quality from their forms.
(179.) In every form there is its state, which is the co-
existence of the substances which are being or have been
determined. This state is itself called harmonious when
the substances co-exist or succeed according to the per-
fect order of nature.
(180.) Every form except the angular, in the atmo-
spheric world and in the animal and vegetable kingdoms,
is able to change its state, and from a more perfect natural
state to pass over into imperfect ones, and from these to
return again into the more perfect. The power of chang-
ing state is itself the perfection of form, which in superior
forms is so great that these changes of state exceed all
number, and are to be reckoned as infinite.
(181.) When a circular form passes over into elliptical
and other geometrical curves, it is said to change its state ;
thus also when a spiral form passes into spirals of another
112 THE SOUL.
genus, geometrical or arithmetical, it is said to change
its state. It is the same with the superior forms, whose
varieties of form cannot be geometrically demonstrated nor
expressed in words. The most perfect form, in whatever
degree, is unchangeable ; but the others in their degree
are changeable ; so the circle is alone in the circular form,
but there are infinite ellipses ; and so with the rest.
(182.) But still the simple expansions and contractions
of the same form are not changes, for in the expanded
or the contracted form the same essential determinations,
analogies, and harmonies remain ; they are rather modifi-
cations by which the forms exercise their forces. But by
expansions or contractions the very nature of the form
of exercising its forces is varied.
(183.) Forms which are able perfectly to change their
states, at once to expand and compress, actually produce
harmonies by change of their state, as also by as many
and as various modifications as possible. These same
changes of state which forms produce are again so many
essential determinations from which results a new form
having its own state and harmony. From these again
when there are many similar ones, new forms arise from
the changes of state, and so on; similarly with the har-
monies.
(184.) All changes of state take place successively;
but when, by these, new forms are produced, then all the
changes of state which have been made successively exist
in these simultaneously. Thus there are forms, states of
forms, and harmonies common and particular, universal
and singular, or general, special, and individual. From
which it appears how infinite a diversity there is of forms,
states, and harmonies.
(185.) But modifications, which are variations of dimen-
sion, or expansion or contraction of the substance to
which the form belongs, produce a harmony by a certain
mutual relation. Such are the harmonies of sounds, of
obje&s of sight, of colours, in and among themselves.
HARMONIES, AFFECTIONS, AND DESIRES. M3
Thence it follows that there are also forms of modes
which are simply called modifications.
(186.) Harmonies of the atmospheric world are effected
by modifications only, and not by changes of state. The
forces are in these modifications themselves. But the
harmonies of the animal kingdom are produced as well
by the modifications which are its so many forces and
actions, as by the changes of state which are so many
sensations.
(187.) The organs of the animal kingdom, both exterr
nal and internal, are so formed that they may receive
modifications of the atmospheric world and turn these
into sensations ; thus the modifications of the air they
turn into the sensations of hearing, and the modifications
of ether into the sensations of sight. And especially the
organs named, particularly the internal, are affected, not
by the modifications themselves but by the harmonies
of the modifications, in such manner that they change
their states conformably to the harmonies, whence come
perceptions. Thus is sight turned into imagination, and
imagination into ideas. This is said to take place by nat-
ural correspondence.
(188.) Neither the external nor the internal organs
of all are affected similarly by the same harmonies of the
modifications of the atmospheric world, but according to
the quality of the organs so they are affected, for so do
they correspond. The diversity of the reception of har-
monies or the diversity of affections is as great as the di-
versity of brains or of men.
(189.) Affections are changes of state corresponding
to the harmonies which flow especially into the sensorial
organs. The whole brain or the common sensory is af-
fected by the sonorous harmonies of the hearing ; the in-
ner sensory by the harmonies of the objects of the sight ;
the pure intellect by the harmonies of the ideas of the
imagination, and especially of the thought ; the soul by
the harmony of the natural truths of the pure intellect ;
114 THE SOUL.
God by the harmonies of the higher or spiritual truths
of the soul.
(190.) From this it appears that there is nothing in
the created universe which cannot be referred to forms,
or to ideas which are so many forms, or to harmonies
and to affections, or that cannot be explained by means
of forms, ideas, harmonies, and affections.
(191.) All harmonies affect the sensorial organs, both
external and internal, either pleasantly and delightfully
or unpleasantly and undelightfully, that is, they either
afford joy or they cause sadness. The more perfect har-
monies are pleasant and delightful, but the more imper-
fect or the disharmonies are unpleasant and undelightful.
For the delightful harmonies soothe the sensories by re-
freshing and vivifying them, but the undelightful or the
disharmonies grate against them because they are de-
structive and deadening.
(192.) But all harmonies are relative to the harmonic
state of the sensory which is affected. Perfect harmonies
seem undelightful in the sensory whose state is disharmo-
nious, and as the harmonies are the more perfect so much
the more undelightful are they to it ; therefore the dishar-
monies are the very harmonies themselves of such a sens-
ory. But because the harmonies, like forms, are perfect or
imperfect in themselves, both in their nature and in their
essence, we have to judge from the affections concerning
the state of the sensory. But to judge truly it is requis-
ite that the state of the sensory of the person judging be
perfectly harmonious.
(193.) Therefore such as is the state of the whole
brain such will be its affection by the harmonies of sounds
of hearing ; as is the inner sensory so its affection by
harmonies of objects of sight ; as is the state of the in-
tellect so its affection by harmonies of ideas of thought ;
as is the state of the soul so its affection by the harmo-
nies of natural truths. God, who is love and perfection
itself, judges from himself concerning the harmonies of the
HARMONIES, AFFECTIONS, AND DESIRES. 11$
spiritual truths of the soul. The devil is affected unpleas-
antly and saddened by the most perfect spiritual harmo-
nies, but is happily affected and delighted by disharmo-
nies.
(194.) We seek and desire what affects our senses
pleasantly and delightfully ; we are averse to what affects
us in an opposite manner ; for pleasant and delightful
things soothe, refresh, and vivify, but the unpleasant and
undelightful are grating, destroying, and mortifying ;
therefore so far as we love our integrity, health, and
preservation, so far we desire pleasant and delightful
affections ; and as much as we hate infirmities, destruction
and death, so far we are averse to what is unpleasant and
undelightful. On this account the brain seeks, longs for,
and desires the allurements of touch, the sweetnesses of
taste, the pleasantnesses of smell, and the harmonies of
hearing ; the inner sensory, the beauties and the pleasant-
nesses of objects of the sight ; the pure intellect, the veri-
similitudes and delights of the rational ideas of thought ;
the soul, the favour and love of the natural truth of the
pure intellect ; God, the health and happiness of souls.
(195.) But our external and internal sensories are so
conjoined and so distinct that what the one seeks the
other very often is averse to, and vice versa. The exter-
nal sensories are able to be delighted with the harmonies
of the world and with the pleasures of the body, but the
inner sensory is saddened by these. The intellectory on
the other hand is made happy in this saddening; and so
on. Thus often the internal is in collision and combat
with the external man. Anatomy itself declares the same
fact, that the organ of seeing and of hearing is one thing,
and the common sensory or the brain is another ; while
the inner sensory or the cortex of the brain is something
still different ; and so is the pure intellect or the simple
cortex of each internal sensory. The form, state, and
harmony of one of these may differ immensely from that
of another; whatever is the connection, situation, and
Il6 THE SOUL.
order of the substance of the brain, there may be never-
theless a connection, situation, and order of more simple
substances of the inner sensory, because a correspondence
is acquired by use and cultivation. For each has its own
selfhood ; and the state which is the internal of the one
is the external of the other, and so on. Thus there are
given no similar affections, and rarely do they correspond
to each other in the sensories.
(196.) Appetite is predicated of all those pleasant
affections which are proper to the body, its viscera and
organs. Its affections are themselves called pleasures,
delights. Longing \cupiditas\ is predicated of all those
pleasant affections which are proper to the brain or com-
mon sensory ; desire, as also wish, of all those which are
proper to the inner sensory ; loves, of those which are of
the pure intellect ; love, simply of those which are of the
soul. But owing to these distinctions being unknown, the
one of these affections is by many taken for another.
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 1 1/
XIV.
OF THE LOWER MIND [ANIMUS], AND ITS AFFECTIONS
IN PARTICULAR.
(197.) To the brain are attributed sensations, as the
sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch ; wherefore the
brain is called the Common Sensory ; its organs and in-
struments are in the body and of the body, such as the
eye, ear, nostrils, tongue, and skin. These do not feel, but
they distinguish, receive, and transmit the forms of touch
to the brain ; which is the reason why, when the brain is
diseased, the senses, which appear as if they were in the
organs themselves, grow languid.
(198.) Sensations, however, are not attributed to the
animus [or lower mind], but those affections which also
are called its passions. For the cerebrum feels, but is af-
fected by sensations according to its form. Therefore tlie
animus is the form of the ideas of the common or external
sensory, and the active and living principle of all the
changes of the body. As the animus is affected, so it
desires, and as the desire of the animus such is the
pleasure of the body ; for the animus is such as the form
of the sensory is ; thus from the form of the sensory we
may judge of the animus, and from the animus we may
judge of the sensory.
(199.) The affections of the animus either agree or dis-
agree in general with the common sensory. Those which
agree are pleasant, those which disagree are unpleasant.
Pleasant affections expand the brain and diffuse the ani-
mus ; unpleasant affections compress the brain and confine
the animus. But irregular affections twist the brain and
Il8 THE SOUL.
confuse the animus. Pleasant affections refresh the brain
and exhilarate the animus ; unpleasant ones wound the
brain and sadden the animus. Pleasant affections restore
the brain \vith new heat and the animus with new life ;
but unpleasant affections destroy the brain and extinguish
the animus. Thus pleasant affections are so many heat-
ings of the brain, and consequently of the body, and so
many resuscitations of the life of the animus, and conse-
quently of the sensations and actions of the body ; but
the unpleasant affections are so many torpors and frigid-
nesses of the brain and therefore of the body, and so many
perils of the life, and swoons and deaths of the animus
and thus of the sensations and actions of the body. For
the animus and its affections, both pleasant and unpleas-
ant, die out with the brain.
(200.) There are several kinds and numberless species
of affections of the animus ; as, joy and sadness, patience
and anger, loves and hatreds, envy, courage and fear,
temperance and intemperance, clemency and cruelty, am-
bition and pride, liberality and avarice, and many more.
But there are those which belong to the common sensory
and the animus and are called the animal affections, and
those which belong to the internal sensory and its mind
\mens\ and are called the rational affections ; and there
are those which participate in both. Therefore we must
treat of each in particular.
Joy.
(201.) Joy is a general affection of pleasure, for all
pleasant affections delight and gladden, or cause joy. Its
causes are all those harmonies in general and in particular
which accord or agree with our sensories and please them,
especially with the internal sensory when this is looking
to fortune, to happiness, to the restoration of life or of
body. Joy expands the cerebrum and diffuses the animus,
to which it slackens the bridle as it were, allowing it to
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 119
act freely. This expansion of the cerebrum and diffusion
of the animus is visible in the face itself, in its sensorial
organs, which likewise are animated, and in the whole body
which, before constrained, swells freely in joy. Through
the general expansion, by extended swellings of the cor-
tical substance of the cerebrum, each internal sensory also
is expanded. In this state one does not compress another,
whence we awaken into a certain more perfe<5b life just as
from a sleep. The blood flows more freely through some-
what larger and somewhat smaller vessels, and runs through
its own glands and fibres. Whence the universal chyle of
the brain and economy of the body is restored. For what-
ever is the animus of the cerebrum, the same is transfused
into the body, since there is a continuity of all from their
own origins or cortical substances. This is the reason why
we are able, from the body, to judge of the affection of the
cerebrum or of the internal common sensory, and especially
from the countenance on which is inscribed the mind. In
excessive joy, not only are the muscles of the cortex, the
medullary strata, and the fibrous and vascular- canals of
the brain and body opened, but also the pores of the cra-
nium and bones ; then also such passages as the chylifer-
ous, lymphatic, and salivary du<5ts and others pour out
liquids suitable for animal economy, as do also the tran-
spiratory pores of the skin. Thus through joy all ways
of communication are opened. In the state of joy, an
agreeable and pleasing tremor, also the vital heat, the
light, the presence of the animus, is diffused around the
common external sensory as well as the internal ; this
lively trembling and light in the countenance is manifestly
betrayed by the eyes and by the speech itself and every
action, thence also the brain is cleared, restored, and vivi-
fied, and in that moment glides back as it were into the
state of its first youth and innocence. Besides this subtle
trembling also more visible vibration or laughter arises ;
for the brain leaps and oscillates, and in the same way
the lungs, the windpipe, articulated sounds, the face and
120 THE SOUL.
joints of the body. This is called laughter, for joy itself
is an affe6tion of the internal sensory, but laughter rather
of the common sensory or brain, which is unable to exist
without the inmost joy of the internal sensory, and a
reflection of its intellect ; whence laughter is not given
except in man ; for in order that it may exist the mind
must perceive a cause for joy and see a present or foresee
a future happiness, which thus breaks into a tremulous
effect from the inmost. In a state of joy the mind is in-
clined to every kind of waving and motion to and fro,
as in beating time to music, to leapings and tossings of
the limbs, of vibration and actual reciprocation, because
all things are loosened and set free. The first degree of
joy is to be content with one's lot, second, hilarity, third,
joy, and the fourth, which is also the last effect, is laughter
and a flinging of the body.
Sadness.
(202.) Sadness, however, which is also termed sorrow
and distress of mind, is the general unpleasant affection,
for all unpleasant affections cause sadness. The causes
are all discords, in general and in particular, which disa-
gree with or are not fitting to our sensories, especially to
the internal sensory, when it perceives or suspects mis-
fortune, unhappinesses, the extinction of life or the de-
struction of the body. Sadness compresses the brain and
torments the animus, casting it as it were into fetters and
chains and depriving it of its liberty. This constriction of
the brain and anxiety of the mind appear in the counte-
nance in its sensorial organs, which are likewise com-
pressed so that tears are forced out ; as also in the whole
body, which, before expanded, is now manifestly contracted.
Through the general constriction of the brain, the muscles
of the cortical substance being closed, every internal sens-
ory is restrained and loses its liberty of acting, for in
this state one compresses the other, whence the brain
becomes heavy and torpid, the blood is impeded, nor does
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 121
it flow freely through the greater and smaller vessels ; or
it is denied to the purer blood or animal spirit to flow
through the glands and fibres, whence is cacochynia,
ataxia, atrophia, melancholy, and the causes of many dis-
eases. In the deepest sadness not only are the cortica
beds and medullary strata of the cerebrum, of the cere-
bellum, of the oblong and spinal medulla, constricted, and
the fibrous and vascular canals of the brain as well as the
body, but also the pores of the skull and of the bones,
and the passages, as the chyliferous, the lymphatic, and
others which pour out liquids serviceable for the animal
economy, all of which if compressed do not fulfil their
uses in the kingdom. Thus through sadness all the
ways of communication are, as to some parts, closed. In
the state of sadness an unpleasant torpor and stupor,
coldness, darkness, absence of mind and of animus occupy
the common as well as the internal sensory. This torpor
and darkness appear manifestly in the countenance, eyes,
and speech ; hence the brain is as it were clouded and
obscured, twisted, vexed, destroyed, and the mind ex-
tinguished, or falls into a kind of premature old age.
In sadness, because the brain suffers and the single duels
are compressed and strive to raise themselves, there arises
the effecT: the opposite of laughter, namely, weeping and
bewailing. Sadness itself is an affection of the internal
sensory, but weeping is of the common or external sensory,
that is, of the brain, and it cannot exist without the deep-
est sadness of the internal sensory and without a reflection
upon an unhappy condition and misfortune present or
future. Wherefore weeping does not occur except in man,
nor can it arise except from a mixed intellect, which does
not know the future. The first degree of sadness is not
to be content with one's lot, another is a certain concealed
anxiety, a third is sadness itself and grief of mind, the
fourth or last, which is the effect, is weeping, bewailing,
and inaction of the muscles of the body.
122 THE SOUL.
Loves in General.
(203.) There are many species of affections of the ani-
mus which are called loves, such as venereal love, con-
jugial love, the love of parents toward their children (or
storge), and friendships. The several loves are as it were
so many conjunctions, bindings, consociations of parts
with a whole ; for to live without love is as a part dis-
united from a whole ; for every part, that it may live,
draws its lot in life from the common body, or from par-
ticipation with many. Society is the very form of living
for the several parts ; the quality of the life of the single
member flows from the form of the many or of the soci-
ety. Thus a single life without this connection is respect-
ively nothing, and that it may be something loves are
conceded, by which we are connected and through which
we regard our friends as ourselves, as united and not
separated. Thus there are loves of the body or venereal
loves ; loves of the animus, as conjugial love and the love
of friends ; and there are loves of the mind, loves of
the intellectory, loves of the soul. From these things it
can be seen that love properly is vital heat itself and the
very force of life ; for without love the single members
would become torpid and extinct.
Venereal Love.
(204.) The venereal act of love is a conjunction itself
and union of two bodies into one. The cause of this is
said to be most deeply hidden even from the soul and
the pure intellect ; these regard effects not as effects but
as ends, and their ends are that society may exist, and
that members of society may be produced, both of a ter-
restrial society which is of the pure intellect, and of a
celestial society which is of the soul. The rational mind
itself, partly from itself and partly from things revealed,
perceives and understands these ends. The animus simply
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 123
desires the effect and the body obeys. How great is the
desire of this end in the mind and in the pure intellect
becomes manifestly apparent in the delights and in the
stimulations of the body to that effect.
(205.) Venereal desire is excited by objects of the five
senses, evidently by beauty and loveliness presented to
the sight, or by a similar form and charm described by
language, which by the hearing passes into so many ob-
jects of sight. Likewise by objects of the three senses of
touch, through kissing, embracing, and many other acts.
Thus love progressively increases. In this venereal affec-
tion, because it is pleasing and the first of the alluring
affections, the brain itself or the common sensory is ex-
panded and joyfully trembles ; whence the animus is dif-
fused. The sensories themselves, and indeed the internal
motors, are determined into that state in which they call
forth and draw out the whole spirit, which thus far lies
inclosed in the blood, and they promptly pour it forth
through their own medullary fibres and through the nerves
of the body. The intelle6lory affords in abundant meas-
ure new life and spirit ; for in this state is conceived, born,
and copiously put forth this spiritual essence which is to
serve the new offspring to be conceived. A state simi-
lar to that of the brain is felt in the whole body and in its
sanguineous and fibrous systems, which unanimously con-
spire to the same effect. For whatever animus the brain
has is diffused into the body ; besides all the other ways
of transpiration are opened and an abundance of effiuvious
breathings flows out into and breaks forth tnrough the
whole circuit of the body. For these reasons, after the
effect arises lassitude and torpor ; for all the better blood
is robbed of its own spiritual essence ; also the purer flows
to the sensories in order that in the fibres and through
o
the fibres it may at length be discharged into the mem-
bers of generation. Even the fibres themselves are fatigued
in the act by tremulous vibrations. The intellectory pours
forth whatever vital spirits it possesses and conceives ; for
124 THE SOUL.
the whole expends itself upon the new man, who is to be
as it were he [the progenitor] himself, and through whom
he may preserve himself and his life, and pass through
all the ages of the earth. At the same time through the
opened pores of the skin the better and superfluous ejected
exhalations are put forth, and hence are experienced the
delicious ecstacies and pleasureable swoons of the interior
sensories, which nevertheless in older persons are followed
by temporary impotencies and a kind of sadness, and a cold-
ness of the blood. In the act itself, which is of the body
merely, there is a pleasure which is permitted without the
end of procreation but for the sake of bodily relief, since
it is excited by the superfluous generative substance col-
lected in the vesicles. As far as it is from the animus it is
without end, and is merely desire looking to the pleasure
of the body. For the animus from itself exercises all acts
in the body without end ; since it feels and acts, but does
not perceive, know, or will ; but when the love descends
from the rational mind it deserves to be regarded no
longer as effect merely, but as end. If it is regarded as
effect or pure pleasure it is lust or lasciviousness, for then
the mind descends into the parts of the animus. But if
it is regarded as an end this is an indication that it de-
scends from the pure intellect, since the pure intellect
has regard to no effecl; of the body as an effect but as an
end. The end is the multiplication of members of a ter-
restial society, the preservation of its own life through
posterity, that it may pass into another self, then also the
necessity of preserving the health of the body. This is
the reason why brute animals act from the same principle
and the same end, for their soul is like our pure intellect,
and so regards or desires no spiritual ends but only nat-
ural ones, that is, no celestial society such as our souls
have in view.
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 125
Venereal Hatred and Aversion.
(206.) There are those who from nature, and those
who from principle or reason, have an aversion for venery.
Those who from nature, or of their pure intellect, hold
society and its multiplication in hatred, are characterized
by pride and an excessive love of self. Those whose
rational mind and animus are affected by no charms are
almost all sad and morose. Those whose blood is harder,
colder, and whose [animal] spirit and its generation too
scanty to suffice for its proper use, are old before their
day; and those whose organs of generation suffer from
disease are impotent. But they who from principle hate
all venery regard it as vile and not to be yielded to, and
its use as an injury to the spirit and to the better life.
Thus the principles [of this aversion] are either spiritual or
natural. This is called chastity, and is the highest virtue.
Conjugial Love.
(207.) Love is a spiritual word, harmony is a natural
word. These mutually correspond, for love and also har-
mony bring about conjunction, since those things which
are in harmonious concord are conjoined of themselves
and by their own nature. Genuine conjugial love not
only effects the conjunction of two bodies and minds \ani-
mus], but also of two rational natures [mens]. The causes
of love with the married are many, and indeed they all
concur so far as nature can contribute to this. For there
is the conjunction of the body which is confirmed and
strengthened by mutual delights. There is a likeness of
the lower minds [animus] whence arise the mutual desires
of their delights. There is the likeness of their rational
minds [mens], which are united more closely by living to-
gether. For the affections of the mind are changeable,
since the very forms of rational ideas are acquired by
use and culture, consequently their rational mind. Minds
126 THE SOUL.
at length in various ways and from innumerable causes
coalesce. The principal cause is the intuition and desire
•of the same end, and that is the desire of offspring in
marriage ; afterward the mutual and unanimous love of
both toward their offspring ; and moreover, the consent
of each to the other's ends, or to what one or the other
desires, that is, that one condescends to the will of the
other. In order that there may be a oneness in nature,
the active and the passive concur. If one is passive as
the other is active, then both are at the same time one.
This is called a conjugal or conjugial pair. Nature also
has ordained that the wife should be of a passive and the
husband of an active nature ; especially does liberty favour
[this union], for liberty is the highest delight of the mind
and the principal essence of every pleasureable affection,
since there is the greatest freedom when the mind and
will of one is that of another. It is as if the mind were
left to itself for the sake of being communicated to the
other. These and many other things affect and unite
minds, indeed to such a degree that when venereal love
and the pleasure arising from the union of the body ceases
the union of minds remains ; this also affects in time the
pure mind itself or the intellectory, whence arises also
that more intimate union which exceeds all union of the
rational mind, and it becomes of such a character that it
cannot be expressed in terms, inasmuch as whatever is
derived immediately from the pure fountain or intellectory
cannot be put in words. If also a spiritual end is simi-
larly desired by both, the souls as to their operation are
intimately united. Hence arises a celestial life on earth,
and it is right to believe that the souls of both are to be
united in the heavens. But such marriages and loves are
not entered upon and perfected by chance, but by the
•especial providence of God.
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. I2/
Conjugial Hatred.
(208.) Hatred is the opposite of love ; what love is
cannot be known from itself but from its contrary, just as
harmonies are not known except from discords. This is
the reason why discords are inserted, that the mind may
be affected the more pleasantly by the harmonies ; but it
is the task of science and of art to see that they be prop-
erly fitted together, and thus that the quarrels of lovers do
not beget hatred. Genuine conjugial hatred does not im-
mediately disjoin bodies and minds \animus\ but it disjoins
successively the rational minds [mens], which are change-
able. Thence, as from their own origin, the lower minds
\animus\ are disunited, and consequently the bodies ; then
the desires themselves vanish with their delights. The
causes of hatred and disjunction are many. The principal
one is a suspicion of unfaithfulness, which is called jealousy.
When this prevails the love is not believed to be mutual ;
and on the part of the husband the offspring is not believed
to be the common offspring of both, so the love of off-
spring does not join their higher and lower minds. Other
causes are, disagreements in the various ends which are
loved and desired by one or the other. This aversion is
increased if according to the order of nature neither can
obsequiously yield, but both must rule. So because the
mind and will of the one is no longer that of the other,
and both are deprived of that liberty which is the mind's
delight, there succeeds in its place either servitude, con-
tempt, or hatred. These and many other things disunite
minds, and indeed to such a degree that when venereal
love or love of the body shall have ceased aversion will
spring up. These also in the lapse of time affect the pure
mind or intellec~lory of each, whence arises undying and
murderous hatred, and it becomes such as cannot be de-
scribed. This is a hell on earth ; and it is right to believe
that the souls of each, like two furies or erinnyes, are to
be tortured in hell. For such disunions and diabolical
128' : THE 'SOUL'.
divorces of minds do not arise by chance, but for the
gravest reasons they seem to be permitted by a foresee-
ing Divinity. From conjugial love and hatred it can be
concluded what the intermediate marriages are which par-
take more or less of the one or the other. For innumera-
ble intermediate states are given, and they abound the
world over.
The Love of Parents toward their Children, or Storge.
(209.) The love of parents toward their children, as to
its origin and essence, is most distinct from other loves.
Our mind and rational intellect are wholly ignorant of its
origin, wherefore it is also called instinct, for it is in the
mind by nature and of itself. It is common to the brute
animals and the human race, and in the former very often
is the more ardent, and so powerful that it conquers self-
love, and gives courage to the timid. This is a species
of sympathy, for whether it be one's own offspring or that
of another believed to be in some manner one's own, the
ardour is the same, equally in beasts and in men ; and
yet it is not reciprocated and mutual on the part of the
offspring ; wherefore the love is said to descend, not to
ascend ; for it is natural in the parent and acquired in the
offspring. Other loves, as conjugial love and love toward
friends, are insinuated into the animus by way of the
senses, and from this into the rational mind. But this
[parental] love is insinuated by the way of the pure in-
tellect from the soul into the mind \mens\ ; therefore its
origin and whence it flows is unknown, for whatever flows
down from the pure mind into the rational mind is not
revealed to our internal sensory, for this purer mind is
unable to explain itself in the forms of words. This is
the reason why, whether it be our own offspring, as was
said above, or that of another, provided our rational mind
is persuaded that it is its own, the love is the same. From
the effect of this love it is clearly seen that in us the ra-
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 129
tional mind is something superior and purer which regards
and at the same time desires the more universal ends and
those toward which universal nature conspires. These
ends, which are purely natural and common to brute ani-
mals and to us, cannot be other than the propagation of
the race and of a new society, and the prolongation of ter-
restrial life through others in whom it is reborn. For it
endeavours to form a colony from itself and pour all its
own spirit into the new body, which fact the venereal love
above described sufficiently demonstrates. This pure or
superior mind most evidently knows that the soul of the
offspring is taken from the soul of the parent ; thus one
soul is transcribed into many bodies. Of this our rational
mind is indeed ignorant ; but still this knows from the very
ardent effect of this love and from desire that it loves to
live most closely conjoined with its own offspring, and
indeed to such an extent that it is displeased at not being
able to be reunited, as it vainly endeavours to be through
the closest embraces, clasping, and kisses. Thus in this
love is concentrated the love of self, the love of perpetu-
ating life, the love of society, of which it is a part and
indeed the first part. In this love, with men, so far as it
descends from the pure intellect, the love of self, of per-
petuating life, and of society, is similarly concentrated ;
but so far as it descends from the soul, the mind \inen s\
of which is spiritual, the love of eternity is added, and the
love of celestial society, a part of which is to be the entire
terrestrial society. From these things as from living and
existing proofs it is clear that the human soul is superior
in essence and form, and that the soul of brutes is such as
is our pure intellect. This love of parents toward their
children decreases with the advance of time, more tardily
in the human race, more rapidly in the various kinds of
animals. For every offspring puts on and acquires its own
countenance, its own animus, its own rational mind, not
like that of its parents. Thus by nature they are disso-
ciated as soon as the new brain assumes a relationship to
130 THE SOUL.
its own body. But because the ends which arc desired
are distinctly perceived in human minds, a love remains
so long as it is the love of an end ; which is also the rea-
son why the love of parents becomes still greater toward
their grandchildren. For that the soul of the grandfather
by means of the parent even passes into the grandchild-
ren is evident from the revived likeness in the grand-
children of the grandparents and great-grandparents.
The Love of Society and of Country.
(210.) There are smaller societies, greater societies,
and greatest societies. A small society is a home or family ;
a greater society is a province or sovereignty, a kingdom
or empire ; the greatest is the whole world. Terrestrial
society is called the world, just as celestial society is called
heaven. There are as many worlds as there are terrestrial
societies, and there are as many heavens as there are ce-
lestial societies. The love of society is both natural and
acquired, for to live alone or to live without society is not
to live, for whatever is one's own is not known as one's
own except from others, or relatively. Our inmost de-
lights are not delights unless from the delights of others
we are convinced of our own. Moreover, no desired ends
follow without the means ; thus ours do not follow without
our friends and their assistance, neither those of our friends
without the consent of that community of which we are
parts. Thus nature herself begets and induces this love
and conjunction. This love, while it is purely animal, is
greatest for one's self and one's own, less for friends and
least of all for society ; but if this love immediately de-
scends from the mind \mens\ of the pure intellectory it is
then most for society, less for friends, and least for self.
The analogy is like that of the whole world to its parts
or a part. But indeed if this love is spiritual, or of the
soul, then the love of celestial society is above the love
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. I$I
of all terrestrial societies or the whole world, and above
that is God who is love itself.
(211.) Our minds are rational, that is, at once natural
and spiritual. Natural minds or purely animal minds pre-
fer themselves to friends, these to society, and earth to
heaven. Truly spiritual minds place themselves in the
lowest place ; their neighbour they treat and love as
equals ; above all they place God ; and others intermedi-
ately in their own order. This subordination of self is the
very excellence of our minds ; this is true magnanimity,
wisdom, honesty itself, virtue, felicity, religion. These are
heroes of their own age, the very essences, powers, virtues,
and stars of the world. The society of such is the City of
God. By the prodigies of this love the Roman Empire
flourished, wherefore by a singular providence of God the
whole universe was subjected to it. Such men are born at
this day, but are regarded as wonders. Everybody recog-
nizes this as a naked truth. Who does not praise to the
stars Quintus Mucius, Horatius Codes, Scipio Africanusthe
elder, Cato, Octavius, the Gustavi, and Caroli, and many
others, and admire that something Divine which is in them ?
Who does not exalt such a nature and affect it [in himself]
by placing himself in the last or in no place, if he would
strive for the glory, favour, and applause of universal soci-
ety ? Thus it is the part of art for a man to feign, even for
selfish ends, magnanimity, wisdom, honesty, virtue, relig-
ion, and to be a man above men, and this at the very
time when he is putting himself in the highest places.
(212.) There are as many forms as there are societies.
The whole human race or world constitutes a universal
form, empires and kingdoms less universal forms, the duke-
doms of empires and the provinces of kingdoms still less
universal forms, families and homes the least. Every one is
by nature bound by the love of that of which he is a part.
Thus by a love of his own country before others, when
these come in conflict, since in protecting its form he is
protecting himself.
132 aswrT.v/TiiiA THE SOUL. j^n-A
Love towards Friends, or Friendship.
\ (213.) All love is natural, but all friendship is acquired
love. The love between husbands and wives is such by
nature, but friendship is something acquired through mu-
tual association. That sentiment which exists in parents
toward children and in others toward blood-relations and
relations by marriage is love, but toward others not re-
lated by blood is friendship. Affection for country and so-
ciety is also called love, so far as it is connate. Love ex-
ists between equals and unequals, but friendship between
equals ; the sentiment of inferiors toward superiors is not
called friendship but veneration, which easily makes way
for love, since the veneration of superiors is natural and
is within every love. But there are many causes, natures,
and degrees of friendship. It is a general rule that friend-
ship is produced through a similarity of manners, that is,
of dispositions [animus] and minds [mens]. The disposi-
tion [animus], which is the external state of the mind
[mens] and brain alone, does not regard ends but only the
pleasures of the body, and is not affected except by like-
ness of condition, age, sex, fortune, countenance, actions ;
whence the friendship thence resulting is that of infants,
of boys, youths, even of adults who are controlled more
by the disposition [animus] and by pleasures than by the
mind [mens] and desires of rational ends. In these there
is frequently the first attachment, for we judge from ex-
ternals concerning internals. But friendship from rational
causes is procured by those ends in which both unite, for
from these the likeness is known. Thus as far as we
desire ends so far we love those friends and companions
who advance these ends ; for ends and means, or all inter-
mediate ends, proceed with equal steps. Ends are either
corporeal and purely natural, or rational, or spiritual. The
pleasing affections themselves are ends ; thus they are
honest ends with honest men, evil with evil men, friend-
ships with those related by blood, and so forth. But in
THE ANIMUS AND ITS; AFFECTIONS. 133
friendship it is requisite that one should -be the leader and
the other the follower ; if both lead there will be a col-
lision, as among morose, ill-tempered, envious, and covet-
ous persons : also the natures of friendships are various ;
there may be sincere friendship or deceitful friendship,
even friendship mixed with hatred. Very often we dis-
like the animus of a person and his manners, but we love
his mind and will, that is, the man himself, and vice versa.
Sometimes we even desire not to live with a loved one
but with one whom we dislike. Our principal affection
and ruling love is the measure of our friendship toward
another. Thus it may be seen how various is the material
out of which friendship is composed. It ought to be a
common rule that all should be loved and at the same
time their vices hated ; that is, that even enemies should
be embraced with love, but not, indeed, with friendship.
For love is natural, and of the pure mind itself and of the
soul ; while friendship is acquired, and is of the rational
mind. The ends of the soul are spiritual, the first of
which is eternal felicity. When several agree in these
ends, they are regarded already as friends whom love
alone binds. Thus there will be a love of souls however
inimical the minds [mens] may be. Without this spiritual
love there is no divine love ; for through this alone are
souls consociated, if aspiring to this one end.
Hatred.
(214.) Hatred is not an absence of love, but it is the
love of evil, consequently the hatred of truth.* Hatred is
both natural and acquired. Natural hatred is the contrary
of love, but acquired hatred is the contrary of friendship.
As love is a pleasing affeftion, delighting the sensories,
repairing the bloods and animal spirits with new heat,
light, and life, and restoring the single parts of the body,
* See Envy and Revenge, nos. 267-273.
134 THE SOUL.
so hatred is an unpleasant affection, which grieves the sens-
ories and disturbs the bloods and animal spirits, depriving
them of their better life and destroying the several parts
of the body. The lower mind is then in anguish, and the
brain compressed ; it is exhilarated, rendered serene and
expanded alone by misfortunes [of others] ; just as love is
a conjunction of dispositions [animus] and minds [mens],
hatred is their disjunction ; and as love is life and heaven,
hatred is death and hell. Disagreements, discords, and
disharmonies arise from hatred. The highest joy of the
most intense hatred would result if heaven and earth
should fall. But there are many causes, kinds, and degrees
of natural and .acquired hatred. The causes of natural
hatred proceed from the state of the pure intellect and soul,
since there are as many diverse states as there are souls
and intellectories. For there are spiritual essences and
forms more perfect and more imperfect, best and worst.
In these love and harmony dwell, and in those hatred
and discord. Those in which love is are celestial essences,
and according to the degree of love are nearer to the
highest love or God and are more grateful and happy ; but
those in which hatred is are infernal essences, and accord-
ing to the degree of hatred more remote from God, more
ungrateful and unhappy. Acquired hatred, indeed, is
caused and increased by a dissimilarity of dispositions and
by a discord and collision of minds and of the desires and
wishes which the ends themselves declare. All desired
ends are pleasant to the minds ; hatred is begotten of
dissent, difference, and opposition. In order that love may
exist one gives way while the other acts ; and on the other
hand, hatred arises by the opposition of one to the other.
As the love of the end is the measure of friendship, so is
opposition of end the measure of hatred. Other things
concerning hatred worthy of observation are to be deduced
from the description of loves, since hatred is contrary to
love.
THE LOWER MIND AND ITS AFFECTIONS. £35
» Self-love; Ambition; Haughtiness; Pride.
(215.) Ambition is not love, but is something super-
added or an adjunct to love, which if separated from love,
love would not be active but passive. We have seen that
love is the life both of the mind and animus, for there is
no such thing as mind nor animus without love. Ambi-
tion is indeed the force of this life or the ardour of testify-
ing the love of the mind ; thus the passive principle is love
and its active ambition. Whence it follows that there are
as many ambitions or kinds of ambition as there are loves.
Thus there is ambition in conjugial love, in the love of
parents toward their children, in the love of society, and
in self-love. The reason why ambition is frequently taken
for love is because love and ambition taken together consti-
tute one's mind \inens\, disposition [animus], or one's life.
Now because ambition is joined to love, as husband to
wife, and there are loves more or less perfect, or those
which are virtues and those which are vices, so there are
more or less perfect ambitions or those which are virtues
and those which are vices, for ambition derives its essence
and nature from the love to which it is bound or wedded.
Ambition is a vice or is spurious when joined to self-love,
but it is a virtue or is legitimate when joined to the love
of society.
(216.) Depraved or illegitimate ambition which is joined
to self-love desires the highest things, and the higher it
climbs the higher it aspires, and it increases as it goes on.
Especially does it desire the dignities, the supreme honours,
the wealth of the world, even heaven itself as its subject.
So the ambition of Adam remains deeply rooted in the
nature of his posterity, and each as a child of earth desires
in mind to occupy all heaven. He emulates the omni-
presence of deity through his fame, its providence through
his universal care, its omnipotence through his more than
regal power ; even also its omniscience, for he is ignorant
that there is anything which he does not know, and so per-
THE SOUL.
suades himself that he knows everything. So ambitioji
obstructs the way to wisdom and opens one to ignorance.
Carried away by ambition, he does not regard himself as
a part of the universe, but as the universe itself, at le&st
thinking that the universe exists on his account ; of which
universe he is nevertheless the smallest part, and all the
smaller in that he seems to himself so great. For ambition
is joined with the contempt of everything outside of self,
although this is cunningly concealed. In his own regard he
is all ; he burns at every word which might injure his dignity
and glory, while he laughs and inwardly is pleased at every-
thing which raises him even though it were to the stars.
Such ambition is for the most part natural or connate, and
it increases by the favour of fortune, which is an indication
•of the perverse state of the pure intellect, the form of whose
intellectual ideas or truths is discordant and adverse to the
order of nature ; but what the soul may be is not for us
to judge. This heat of affection in the rational mind is
properly called ambition where there is a species of in-
sanity joined to ignorance, for it admires and contemplates
itself and its form in every idea. This ambition in the
animus or in the common sensory passes for haughtiness,
or in the body for pride, because it is the effect of haughti-
ness and an elation of the animus, and it shows itself in
ridiculous gestures", supercilious bearing, affectation of titles,
pomp of family, of friends, of servants, of horses, of gar-
ments decked with superfluous ornaments, and in many
other things which provoke laughter. Such an ambition,
because it is a force and an ardour, and because the affec-
tion itself in which it resides is a pleasing one, makes
glad and expands the internal as well as the external
sensories, the cerebrum, fibres, arteries, ducts, viscera, and
the body ; whence it is said to be puffed up and to inflate.
Thus naturally it repairs and restores the condition when
everything is favourable, and pours into it as it were new
life. It is nevertheless only like a beautiful wax figure
stuffed with vile matter. But if perchance it is cut off from
THE LOWER MIND AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 137
hope or fortune, it falls either into infantile crying, into
silliness, into sorrow, or into insanity ; for the ardour of
the mind is either extinguished or remains only as mad-
ness. There are many causes, qualities, degrees, and dif-
ferences of this vanity.
(217.) That ambition, however, is a virtue or is legiti-
mate, which is joined to the love of society and country ;
this never begets pride, much less haughtiness, but hu-
mility and contempt of self; it regards self as the small-
est part of the universe, and inwardly rejoices that it is
able to perform so many duties. It desires and attempts
great and sublime things, not on account of self, but for
the public good ; to itself it is nothing, to its country it
is everything ; if it desires honours, riches, or wisdom, it is
that by these only it may serve the more. It turns away
from that illegitimate ambition as from a disease. Thus
it is known from love or from end what ambition is. Such
a mind indicates a most perfect state of the pure intellect,
whose ideas are so many celestial truths, and at the same
time a state of the internal sensory corresponding to the
intellectory. So it is natural rather than acquired, for
even if imbibed by rules it is rarely so acquired as to be
constantly active unless it be continually deprived of its
own natural ardour, and so accommodated to the influx of
the higher mind.
(218.) But the loftiest or spiritual ambition, proper to
the soul, is that which is joined to the love of celestial
society. This sees its own glory and felicity not in itself
but in the love of God and in His kingdom, which it
earnestly desires to promote ; it is humble, a worshipper of
Deity, a contemner of self, but in the degree it is less to
itself, it is greater before God. To this end this zeal is
granted to souls, and ambition to human minds.
138 THE SOUL.
Humility ; Contempt ; Lowliness of Mind [Animus].
(219.) There is a natural and an acquired humility;
as also an internal humility or that of the mind, and an
external humility or that of the animus and body. Nat-
ural humility arises from self-contempt, — whence it is an
affection contrary to illegitimate ambition or self-love,
and wholly united to love toward others, for which rea-
son it is worthy to be called legitimate ambition ; for as
far as we recede from love of self so far do we enter into
a love toward others as being all more excellent and
higher than ourselves. Properly it is shown toward supe-
riors, and thus it is a kind of veneration, for love toward
superiors is shown by veneration, so that it is veneration
itself. For this reason humility is a virtue ; and if it is
innate or natural it has its roots in the pure intellect
itself; and if in the soul itself it is an evidence of love
toward God, and so it is an annihilation of self, whence
is the highest religion, adoration, and the imploring of
grace. From the adoration itself, which is an act of hu-
mility, may be known the quality and quantity of this love.
The reason why humility is proof of love towards others
either in reality superior and more perfect or else so es-
teemed, is because it is natural, if we would have the love
of another and his work influence us, for us to extinguish
the ardour of our animus and mind and to reduce these to
a kind of passivity ; then the love of another is that which
operates with our love, and is that active principle which
should exist in love in order that it may be the heat of
our life. Hence is it that humility is the cause of the
conjunction of the minds of others with ours and the very
origin itself of benevolence. Without this state of our
mind Divine love could never operate upon us. Indeed
spurious ambition itself through its own activity throws
off every influx and entirely extinguishes it. No affection
more approves of this virtue or covers it with praises,
than vicious or illegitimate ambition ; for this demands
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 139
humility of all because it prefers itself to all. On the
other hand God, who demands this humility, not from love
of self but from love of the human race, that we may
be disposed to the operations of His love and for the
reception of grace, — He does not demand glory for its
own sake, for He is in His own glory and Himself is glory,
to whom nothing can be added through our glorifica-
tion ; but because the proof of glory is adoration, which
is according to our veneration toward our superiors ; it is
by this that we declare our love.
(220.) Humility which is acquired does not derive its
origin from nature and inclination, or from principles en-
grafted in our pure intellect and soul, but from- principles
through the reflection of our mind, drawn from our own
experience or from that of others who teach us ; and if we
put faith in our masters, and ourselves acknowledge the
truth as examined by them, there arises a principle out of
which either virtues or vices are acquired. Thus if we are
imbued with truths, especially with this truth, that illegiti-
mate ambition or love of self is a vice and an impediment
to the communication of the loves of another and particu-
larly of a superior, then as far as self-love recedes, so far
does love toward others and that of others towards us, and
thence humility, succeed in its place. This in the course
of time, these principles being deeply implanted, passes
over into the pure intellecT: and becomes as it were nat-
ural, and it is transferred to posterity, as if it were an in-
clination ; and this is the origin of natural humility. This
humility is called internal.
(221.) External humility is of the animus and body
alone, and not of the rational mind ; for self-love and spu-
rious ambition can be implanted in the mind and the entire
internal sensory, or our rational intellect can be occupied
by this love, and nevertheless externally humility can be
simulated, contempt of self, love toward others, toward
society, even toward God, in a word, honesty and virtue ;
vices can also be simulated, the love of self, contempt of
140 THE SOUL.
friends, and many other things. Such humility is called
external because it is outside of the mind, and as it were
superficial. For the mind is a superior or internal animus,
subject to which is the will, because the intellect, judgment,
and choice are. The mind, to which the will belongs,
is able to command the external or lower animus, and
thence the body; and indeed by such. art that it can cause
that nothing of the mind shall show itself in the counte-
nance, for, for every affection there are certain correspond-
ing expressions of face, of bodily form, of gesture and of
action. Thus the joyful expression of humility in the face
of the lover and the beloved is as it were not each one's
own state but that of the other. Veneration itself appears
in the form of actions, in the accent of speech, and the style
of language, as a certain yielding and obedience. But the
deepest humility breaks out even into tears, or into a pitia-
ble condition of the body ; we are prostrated ; we cry out
that we are as nothing, and beat upon our breasts. These
are the natural effects of humility in the body, and it spon-
taneously flows forth in this manner when verily present in
its signs ; but all this we are also taught to feign.
(222.) Lowliness is of mind or of spirits is a virtue as
well as a vice. It is a virtue when humility is acquired from
principle, or when self-love and spurious ambition are ex-
pelled from our minds ; for then there succeeds at once an
ambition of serving and obeying others or of suffering our-
selves to be controlled by others.
Both self-love and ambition or this animus are cast down
by sicknesses, disease, misfortune, anxieties ; but these are
of the Divine providence. Lowliness of mind is, on the
other hand, an evil when it arises from a sudden extinction
of ardour or of a spurious ambition, the self-love remain-
ing without its ardour or without the possibility of acting.
Then force or violence is done especially to the internal
organs and thence to the external ones, and those of the
body, and there is a breaking out into weeping, despair,
frenzy, grief, disease, insanity, and madness*
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 141
Hope and Despair*
(223.) When we strive for and desire what we love,
and yet impossibilities interfere with our attaining our end,
we call this state of desire hope, and it seems to be in the
will viewed as an endeavour which these obstacles are
preventing from coming forth into a6l and motion. Thus
hope is not an affection of the mind, but of its will. For
the will always endeavours to act, but so long as it is re-
sisted does not act. Meanwhile it is affected by a certain
hope, so that it remains balanced between action and in-
action. Thus hope does not belong to the animus but to
the rational mind, because to its will, and so belongs to
man and not to brutes and irrational beings. Hope in-
creases and grows just as far as the impossibilities, that is,
the resistances, recede or are removed ; and to remove
these is the work of prudence and skill. But hope in it-
self is greater or less according to the degree of the love
and desire of the end pursued or desired. Therefore hope
has in view desired ends, and accordingly it belongs to all
the affections which are ends. For this reason hope is
the continuation of life, that is, of loves, and of their
ardour or ambition. But the greatest hope is that which
we repose in God, to whom nothing is impossible ; where-
fore hope is one of the three spiritual virtues.*
(224.) Despair exists when we cut off hope ; then also
when, in the end itself, love and ambition, that is, the life
and ardour of the mind, collapse and are as it were extin-
guished. Then comes that dejection of the animus the
effects of which were described above. The effects in
general are different species of insanity which are diseases
of the mind, different frenzies which are diseases of the
animus, and different sicknesses which are of the body.
• \ Corinthians, xiii. 13. [7K
142 THE SOUL.
The Love of an Immortality of Fame after Death.
(225.) The love of an immortality of fame, or as it is
commonly called, of one's name, is natural to every one, as
appears from innumerable proofs. Who does not desire
funereal pomps and obsequies, and provide for the erection
of a tomb to remain for a monument after the death of the
body, for the sake of his name? Who does not rejoice at
the imagined talk and whispering and is not affected by its
flatteries, as yet all unknown, when it shall be said that
"he has gained an immortal fame, and has merited the
favour of posterity ?" Nay, he himself would glory and all
the world applaud him as if instinctively, if he by saying
so could persuade them that he did not study to serve
himself but posterity ; from thence comes the glory of a
great man.
From these and very many other proofs it is plainly
established that the love of our immortality or fame or
name is an implanted or connate one, hence that it is one
of those truths which are within the pure intellectory.
Unless the pure intellect and the soul were conscious of
this, such a love could never exist in a rational mind, and
because it does exist in it, it follows that it is the truth
that we are to live after the death of our bodies. But
our rational mind does not take this form itself, since it is
ignorant of the true origin of this love, denying even its
existence, and indeed those minds more ardently which
regard, run after, and desire only natural ends ; for some-
thing natural as well as something spiritual is within our
rational minds, and the one predominating suffocates the
other. Still this truth remains, as a spark under the em-
bers when these persons [come to die and] desire illus-
trious obsequies.
(226.) But this love with its peculiar ambition is super-
eminent, and is either a virtue or a vice ; it is a virtue
when it obtains a name immortal in virtues, in honesty,
in praiseworthy deeds towards society and country; and
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 143
still greater when not only toward present societies but
toward all future ones. For if there is an innate love toward
societies and country it must be that that which extends
to all posterity is a greater one. Such a love or virtuous
ambition, when it is united to our love of self, is pure love,
if one does not desire that his name may live, but rather his
service and thence his consequent public usefulness may.
Such are the heroes of the world ; for they spurn all glory
of deeds and merits ; they are even averse to these ; but
they rejoice from their inmost conscience that they were
means of their country's felicity and safety, and that heaven
above and God and the eternal essences may be conscious
of their deeds, to whom in a kind of spiritual likeness
they may draw near. Also such souls, the body having
perished in death, are allotted a certain heaven, not alone
in themselves, but also without themselves, from other
souls with whom they cannot but have immediate com-
munication of spiritual affec~lion. Concerning these things
faith itself and reason itself refuse to doubt ; but we will
treat of them elsewhere. Such internal men despise, yea,
are averse to this fame of name, such as is indicated by
monuments, palaces, buildings, statues, amphitheatres,
inscribed titles and other like things ; for they aspire to
what is higher and to that with which these things are not
to be compared. But such a love is a vice when it is in
reality extincl:, and nothing remains but what is feigned
in order that one may instil into the credulous public
an estimation of his deeds by a certain sincerity or truthful-
ness ; or where self-love or spurious ambition is superemi-
nent. In these persons the love of fame naturally rules,
but the end is that of the fame of self not of virtues, like
that in him who burned the Temple of Diana of the Ephe-
sians. But without this love no one would love his offspring,
for he would not see himself as immortal in it ; neither
would any one fight for his country from a kind of love, nor
seek death nor love to offer himself a sacrifice. From such
an incentive comes true heroic virtue, such as was exhibited
144 THE SOUL.
in our Gustavi and Caroli. The Divine Providence con-
spires as far as possible that these may obtain their wish.
Generosity; Magnanimity; what the Loves of the World
and of the Body are.
(227.) The animus is called generous and great in the
degree that it is elevated from what is mundane and cor-
poreal, and so nearer to the celestial and divine. By the
animus is here understood the superior animus or mind,
wherefore also this animus is called divine. This regards
the corporeal and the mundane as respectively nothing,
because they are mutable, inconstant, transitory, perish-
able, void of life, to become as nothing, — mere instruments
of life, to which is assigned a reward according to service.
But the celestials are regarded as the only, the sole
essentials, the very things which are, the perpetual eter-
nals, the very felicities themselves.
(228.) Mundane in a strict sense applies to the earth
and the universe, with its orbs, moons, sun, stars, then
especially all things which are in the earth and its three
kingdoms. Even human societies are called worlds, and
every individual in the society a microcosm. So are mun-
dane things also, those riches, possessions, and other things
of the earth, which in themselves are but clods, but in
society pass for the goods which are the servants of life.
But corporeal things are those which allure only the body
and the animus, as the sensations of touch, taste, smell,
hearing, sight, or all their pleasing affections ; then also
dignities and honours and other things which are taken
no notice of, when alone the pleasures of the body and
the animus are sought after. These are called loves of
the world, cupidities of the animus, and pleasures of the
body, because the blood and external organs are affected
by them. Our rational mind is like a balance between
the corporeal and the spiritual, or between the mundane
and the celestial, one arm of the beam being that of the
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 145
body and animus, the other that of the pure mind and
soul. If the weight of the corporeal arm prevails, then
the spiritual and celestial are almost of no weight, thus
their scale is elevated ; but if the other arm prevails, then
the mundane and corporeal are of no weight : thus we
are balanced between heaven and earth. The weight of
the corporeal arm naturally prevails because we are con-
scious of its delights, or we are manifestly affected by a
sense of them ; but in the celestial arm there are no
weights, but only forces, and if they prevail it will be
because their delights are ineffable, infinite, eternal, and
are inmostly within the aforenamed weights ; thus from
the idea alone of their supereminence.
(229.) He who is magnanimous scorns in his spirit
and mind alike all mundane and corporeal things, esti-
mating them alone from their use in promoting those
things which are superior. Thus he values the taste, not
on account of the flavour but because by means of the
flavour he discovers the quality of nourishment and en-
joys an appetite for it ; he enjoys the modulations of song,
musical harmonies, sweetly spoken words, and like things,
not for the sake of the affe6lions, but because they re-
create the body, and preserve the health of the mind.
The pleasures of the fields and meadows, of colours, of
the starry theatre of the universe, are prized not as de-
lights in themselves, but because they exhilarate and renew
the mind and give to it the faculty of understanding, and
the material for forming universal judgments out of par-
ticulars and thus determining essential truths, and also
for admiring and adoring the Maker of such a world.
Riches and possessions are valued not as ends but as
means to higher things ; so also dignities and honours.
He who regards all these things as mere servants and
instrumental causes, in themselves dead, and who only
venerates the higher things abstracted from them, is mag-
nanimous; and because he proves this by his a6ls he is
generous. For universal nature is so created that as an
146 THE SOUL.
instrument it may serve life and the spiritual essences to
whose rule it is wholly subject.
(230.) This love and this ambition show who is mag-
nanimous and generous by nature ; also the magnanimity
and generosity themselves indicate the quality of this
love and ambition.
There are in general two loves, the love of the body
and the world, and the love of heaven and Deity. Love
of self and spurious ambition reveal the love of the body
and the world, while contempt of self or love of serving
the public, and genuine ambition, reveal the love of heaven
and of Deity, even to the smallest thing which lies in the
way thither. From these loves it may be known who is
really magnanimous and generous. But there is a mag-
nanimity and generosity feigned for the sake of being
made the means of corporeal and worldly possessions.
(231.) Thus magnanimity is not any affection, but
rather a quality of the animus and mind. From these
things it may be judged what the animus is and to what
loves it inclines.
Pusillanimity and Folly.
(232.) Pusillanimity is opposed to magnanimity, and
is so called from this opposition ; but as opposed to gene-
rosity it is called folly. Pusillanimity has no right of its
own, nor sufficient intellect to enable it to assert its mind,
but is inconstantly borne to this side or that, wherever its
lust, its presumption, or the persuasion of others may draw
it. Even if it should remain a moment in higher things
it would fall back at once into the lower and be plunged
into its mere bodily living. Folly, however, spurns entirely
the higher things, and embraces the lower with all its
animus and heart, and considers these as the only and
the all, and indeed as the very entities of reason. Thus
it is characteristic of a purely animal and brutish man.
Still other things may be deduced on this subject from
the above description of magnanimity and generosity.
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 147
A varice.
(233.) Avarice is the love of riches and earthly posses-
sions ; but its quality may be recognized from its end.
It is natural to love wealth, as it is to love those ends
to which wealth is the means. Wherefore it is natural to
brutes, even to insects, to collect and put away the neces-
saries of life for a coming winter ; and because money is
the universal medium for promoting and acquiring inter-
mediate ends it is called the nerve of business. This is
not avarice, but prudence for providing means, or a human
providence granted by God, especially if the love of means
does not exceed the love of the end. Often, however, it
goes beyond. For worldly and corporeal loves never halt
in their march, but in all directions they seize upon new
growths, as the love of dignities, of honours, of ruling,
the love of vanity, display, haughtiness, the love of pleas-
ures, the love of looking out for one's own, not only dur-
ing one's own life and that of his children but even to
that of grandchildren ; since the storge inspires a kind of
perpetual life which increases toward the remoter gener-
ations. In a similar degree increases the love of riches,
that is, of means to the perpetual end. There are also
superior loves which wealth serves as a means, such as
the love of agriculture, of defending one's country, of pre-
serving society. Wherefore the greatest care of a ruler
is that his kingdom may abound in money. Wealth may
also serve as means to certain spiritual ends, as in per-
forming works of charity, in lending aid to the needy, in
promoting and propagating divine worship, in building
temples, and in many other things. Now because money
is the universal medium of so many and almost of all
ends, and as each person has his own loves, desires, and
ends, it follows that the love or estimation of money rules
throughout the world.
(234.) But, indeed, if wealth is sought not for the sake
of ends but for its possession merely, that is, not as means
148 THE SOUL.
but as the end itself, then this love is that avarice which
is called sordid, and is folly itself, the trait of a base mind.
It is against nature itself and against the principles of all
reason that wealth should be regarded as pure end, for
that which in itself is means cannot be the end, and this
is the reason why money is regarded as the very possi-
bility of all ends, consequently as being all loves in
potency. For the mind is more delighted in the contem-
plation of its loves than the body is in their execution or
in its pleasures themselves, since the view is more lasting
and constant, while the pleasure itself is inconstant and
^nds with the act, as in venereal love ; wherefore pleasures
are ascribed to the imagination, for the life itself of the
mind flourishes from similar loves. Besides, in avaricious
minds all these loves remain, because of the possibility of
all things [which wealth promises] ; and by these loves
there is aroused a universal idea which is more pleasing
in that it is the more universal, and this appears to be
the cause of avarice. This is confirmed by the location
itself of this affection, being in the rational mind only,
since it is not an affection of the superior mind, as it is
never natural, but one that is acquired in the course of
time, and that increases in old age just in the degree that
the corporeal loves recede. It is not an affection of the
lower mind [animus], because it is not of the body ; the
cupidities of the animus and the pleasures of the body
being inseparable.
(235.) But to what an extent avarice may become a
mental disease, insanity, irrationality, and niggardliness,
is fully evident from its effect, in that the more completely
it is inrooted the more are other loves blunted and ex-
tirpated ; for the mind occupied by this perpetual idea is
as it were suffocated, is merged not in the body but in
the earth, so that it cannot be elevated toward the higher
things, nor can the spiritual inflow into what is grossly
natural. Thus the god whom the avaricious man wor-
ships is like Pluto himself, for the worshipper adores that
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 149
he himself may be blessed, that is, that additional riches
may be given him. But in mind he worships his treasures
as a god ; in these he recognizes all possibility, providence,
power, and glory ; and so he in secret wholly denies the
divine. From the mind of a miser all love of society is
wholly rejected, likewise friendship, and even the love of
one's own, which is nevertheless an extremely natural
love. Even the love of the body hardly remains, because
this is the love of the earth, and all cupidities are spurned
because they are pleasures that cost ; also honours and
repute of name are of no account to the miser, since he
persuades himself that he possesses potentially all the
honours of the universe. Thus the love of self is supreme,
for he regards himself as the [whole] universe and not a
part of it. Thus he places among the virtues nothing but
vices, such as injuries done to his neighbour, plots for re-
ducing whole homes to extremities, and • innumerable
similar things.
(236.) These passages are to be amended, as the sub-
je£ls here treated of have not been deduced from their
origins.
Prodigality ; Liberality ; Contempt of Wealth.
(237.) Prodigality arises from various causes. For a
prodigal either desires his ends too much, or he desires
none at all ; or he regards the present only and not the
future; or he denies that riches are a means for attain-
ing ends ; or he believes that they produce themselves
spontaneously ; or he desires to exhibit a generous spirit ;
or he despises wealth as provocative of evil. Thus pro-
digality is both a vice and a virtue. When it is a vice it
is properly called Prodigality, but when it is a virtue
Liberality, which is a kind of generosity and magnanimity,
and when the virtue is supereminent it is called the Con-
tempt of Money. Prodigality is of the animus but not of
the natural mind ; so it differs altogether from avarice
150 THE SOUL.
even as to its origin. That it is of the animus, and not
of the mind, is evident from the genius of the prodigal ;
for he does not care for the future but for the present,
and he lives for the day, or he longs for pleasures of the
body too much as ends, and so he indulges his disposition
or animus and cupidities alone. Or, conscious of no burn-
ing desire of an end, he is like a dead stock, weakened
in mind ; or like boys growing up, he does not know that
wealth should be acquired with care as the general means
to ends. All these things indicate that the animus is the
prodigal, and not the mind. Liberality is also either
a vice or a virtue, for it is for an end, and the end quali-
fies the means. It is a vice if it is for loves of the world
and the body, and thus for ostentation. It is a virtue if
it is for superior loves, as for the works of charity ; thus
they regard wealth as mutually received, as committed
to their charge, as to be dispensed and returned. The
contempt of money, if it is not feigned, is a supereminent
virtue, for the contemnor turns away from money as he
would from the vices and evils to which they are the irri-
tants and perpetual allurements, for the possession of
wealth can never be separated from the idea of those de-
lights and pleasures of which it is a means. That which
is to be and can be, the mind regards as though present
and being ; thus all loves of the world and of the body
are worldly and corporeal in the idea, as though they were
in aft. The possession of wealth in this way perpetually
irritates and is a universal decoy, and so the mind descends
and buries itself in all natural things, worldly and cor-
poreal, from which it is impossible to be elevated to higher
things, celestial and divine. If money is despised on this
account, such contempt is, as was said, a supereminent
virtue.
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. !$!
Pity and Charity.
(238.) There are some who are compassionate from
nature, some from use, some from purely moral causes, and
some from principles of the reason. Compassion from
nature, or what is the same thing, from the pure mind and
soul, flows forth toward others from an innate love, so that
it coincides with love itself, of which it is the first effect,
another form of charity. For love regards another as
itself, and so it pities others although it may be deserv-
ing of pity itself. Love toward husband or wife, children,
blood relations, that is, one's own, produces pity, and this,
charity, which extends itself as far as the love. Love
toward society and country, and the more universal love
toward the human race, and that which is most univers-
al, toward the human race past and future, a purer and
more perfect love than the former, produces a pity and
charity toward all who from this love are spiritually called
neighbours, while naturally they are nearer or more re-
mote, since nature alone admits of degree. Thus pity and
charity are not joined to self-love and spurious ambition,
whence these are virtues of virtues. Such a love cannot be
given without its effect ; consequently from charity and
pity, which are effects, it can be judged concerning love,
thence concerning the state of the mind and soul.
Pity from use emulates pity from nature, for it passes
as it were into the natural, since with the passing of time
it imbues the mind with the principles of love. This prop-
erly is a moral virtue, because it is within the will, not of
itself, but of ourselves, to which we contribute as so many
instrumental causes through application to the influx of
the principal cause.
Pity is conceived also from purely moral causes, and is ac-
quired through use, and thus born, it may be, from principles
of virtue and piety ; but this pity supposes a faith not in-
tellectual, and thus is insinuated from obedience through
use ; for faith is something that is not in our own power.
152 THE SOUL.
Pity from the principles of reason, whether from a spu-
rious or legitimate love, is derived from a spurious love, that
is, from the love of self. He who is a lover of self is never
compassionate, for he does not love others as he loves him-
self. Nor does he who hates ever pity him whom he
hates, for no one hates another as another unless he loves
himself, that is, unless for causes which oppose his self-
love. But notwithstanding, the external works of pity
can flow from the principle of this same love of self, so
indeed that one may seem kind, compassionate, and a
lover of others, for he knows that it is a virtue, wherefore
his self-love stimulates him to appear such and acquire dis-
tinction ; or also from the principle that others may pity
him if he should happen to be an unfortunate ; then indeed
he exercises charity toward those who are wealthy that
he may be rewarded, but this is without pity or love.
Pity from principles of legitimate love supposes an in-
tellectual faith, or that from persuasion one knows pity
as the effect of pure celestial and spiritual love. The
principles of the mind are [regarded as] so many rational
truths, for everyone believes his own principles to be
truths.
(239.) The effect of pity is in the mind anxiety, in
the animus sadness, and in the body weeping, and at the
same time a pitiful voice ; the image of pity also stands
out in the countenance. Thus the effects of pity and sad-
ness coincide ; but it is such that one suffers as if this
sadness were his own, for he whom he pities is his other
self.
(240.) The obje6ls of pity are innumerable. Poverty
and unhappiness are general objects. There are also those
persons who pity the opulence and celebrity of others, re-
garding these things as causes of misery and incentives to
vices. Everyone pities the avaricious man. There is pov-
erty in worldly, intellectual, and spiritual things. What
poverty in worldly things is, is known ; poverty in intel-
lectual things is ignorance ; a hallucination of principles
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 153
or of opinions concerning truth is silliness and insan-
ity ; poverty in spiritual things is a feeble faith or
total want of faith, a cold love or no love whatever of
Deity, and so no charity from that which is the soul itself
of charity. All these kinds of poverty are infelicities.
But to judge of poverty and infelicity is of our rational
mind whose choice and application are accordingly vari-
ous, since there are as many minds as varieties ; for with
him whom we pity there always intercedes a certain cor-
respondence of principles. Thus this application is not
natural but acquired.
Fear and Dread.
(241.) Nothing is more natural than to protect life and
its essence, and to wish to continue one's being, and to
preserve that connection which, by virtue of form, one
possesses. The soul, which is living essence, while it is
united to the body furnishes this with sensory organs,
that it may be aware of any attempt to destroy it. At
each single assault which injures it, and at every dishar-
mony, it is grieved, saddened, altered, and constrained.
This alteration is called fear ; for in fear the fibre con-
tracts itself, and withdraws into itself; it becomes hard-
ened and resists as if senseless. The blood is expelled
from the arteries so that the heart palpitates. The ani-
mal spirit is expelled from the fibres, so that the muscles
are deprived of their own motive force, the sensorial or-
gans of their perceptibility. A chilliness and pallor seize
the face and limbs. They shiver and shake. The animus
deprived of its own cupidities falls extinct ; in the mind
is the image of death. Thus fear is a certain extinction
of the mind and animus, and as it were an anticipated
death of the body, for its appearance is seen in the body.
(242.) Since the life of the animus and the life of the
mind exist from pure loves because from affections, it
follows that we apprehend, we fear or dread the injuring
154 THE SOUL.
of each and every love, because they are ends of the
mind ; we fear also every love which is a means to or as-
sists such an injury ; thus all things which bring, as we
believe, any deadly hurt. Just so far then as we love the
end do we fear its privation and dread its annihilation.
The same is true of the subject in whom is the end ; for
love cannot be given as an end unless it is in some sub-
jeft.
(243.) And so all fear is natural ; and it is as great
and of the same character as is the love or end which we
desire. There are loves both natural and acquired ; but
whether the love be natural or acquired, nevertheless fear
and a departure from nature accompany each when the
danger of its extinction or privation threatens. This
nature is in the rational mind, to which belong loves,
desires, and ends. For whatever the mind does not ob-
serve, this it does not fear ; and when it does fear, the
mind is no more master of itself or competent, but under- 1
goes a kind of swoon.
(244.) There are as many fears and as many kinds of
fear as there are loves and kinds of love. Everyone nat-
urally fears for his own body, whether he loves himself
before others or others before himself; the love of preserv-
ing the relation between body and soul is innate with
everyone ; where there is a relation of dependence of one
upon another, there is love. He who loves himself before
others also fears more for his own safety than for the
safety of others. He who truly loves others more than
himself, fears more for the safety of others than for his
own ; therefore from fear the quality and degree of love,
and what love is, is known. He who loves his country
more than himself considers it glorious to die for his
country, or at least for the fame of which this illustri-
ous glory is a part. He who loves his wife and children
more than himself, suffers death rather than see these
loves extinguished. This is also natural to brutes, as in
the case of does, stags, hens, geese ; for the female boldly
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 155
confronts the enemy which approaches her young. He
who prefers fame to life is fearful of his fame or fears its
loss. They are magnanimous who are fearful of the fame
of honesty and virtue. Whence it follows that fear of the
loss of a superior love renders bold the inferior love. He
is a hero who fears no loss of the life of the body when
fame is endangered, whose loss he would greatly fear.
Also the same hero when his fame is not endangered, fears
greatly for his own body, to the end that he may live for
fame and for society.
(245.) He is without reason who prefers the life of his
body to the life of his fame, or to honesty, virtue, society,
country, and the human race ; yet he is still more con-
temptible who like the miser prefers wealth and similar
things to himself and his life. The most timid of all men,
he is still an intrepid defender of his treasure, the depriv-
ation of which often leads to suicide. The most despic-
able and the lowest of all mortals is he who fears nothing
for truth, sacred things, heaven, and Deity, but only for
his own life. Thus fears show of what kind the loves are,
and which love is preferred to another. What love is and
what the fear of losing the love of God, the martyrs have
testified. Souls which are sublime and elevated above
mortal things do not fear to undergo death for truth, espe-
cially such as is celestial and divine, because they are fear-
ful for the truth and dread its extinction. But our truths,
except such as are divinely revealed, are mere principles
of the rational mind. To fear no danger of life or to meet
death in defending these denotes indeed a sublime mind,
but it may be also an insane one. Such are some of the
martyrdoms of heretics and others which historians re-
late.
Fortitude ; Intrepidity ; Courage (Animosity).
(246.) Bravery is a heroic virtue, especially in war, and
is manifested in battles, combined with intrepidity and
156 THE SOUL.
magnanimity. There are many kinds of bravery, all of
which aim to be regarded as heroic. Common minds
think that it is shown only in intrepidity and courage, but
a genuine bravery shows itself always more evidently and
boldly when the cause is regarded as greater, superior,
more universal ; and on the other hand it is more languid
where the cause is meaner, inferior, and slighter. The
bravery is greatest when intrepidity in the less cause
is greater, and in the great cause is less. Insane persons,
misers, and others of weak mind, who are terrified by the
slightest whisper, also are bold in guarding their treasure ;
while in a public cause they are quite unnerved at the
sight of a drop of blood.
(247.) Nothing more difficult is known than to dis-
cover whether bravery is genuine or false. Genuine
bravery, whatever may be the cause, is never turned into
fear, but in place of fear into anger, and anger then be-
comes zeal and a just grievance. False bravery secretly
conceals fear. Externally and on the surface it shows the
animus, and if it is turned to anger it is an unjust anger,
grief, or fury. Genuine bravery is mild, patient, and clem-
ent even toward enemies ; but the false is inflamed and
breaks forth into cruelty. Genuine bravery is present in
the greatest dangers of life, in the animus and mind, and
it is the more present and prudent as the perils are
greater. Then a false bravery in the animus either melts
away or becomes a rage, and the person is insane like
one who has lost his mind ; he is beside himself, and no
longer his own master. Genuine bravery is never united to
self-love, but is the inseparable companion of the supreme
love of many and of society, with which love it increases.
False bravery is from an opposite principle ; for an ex-
treme love of self inspires the immortality of fame, but
whether it be from a genuine bravery or a spurious one is
distinguished by this, that this self-love does not desire
these goods of others and of society, but rather that it
may seem to all the world to desire them ; and thus from
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 1 57
the character of the ambition is understood what the
bravery is. Genuine bravery is most closely united with
humility, adoration, fear and love of Deity. But false
bravery is united with pride, haughtiness, hatred, impi-
ety, and with a contempt, hatred, or denial of Deity.
The greater the bravery is the greater is the life ; the less
bravery the less life there is, even to the condition being
comparable to death itself.
(248.) Intrepidity which is an attribute of fortitude is
not acquired but is inborn. Hence it appertains to the
race and descends to a remote posterity, for the brave
beget the brave ; it is often a trait belonging naturally to
a whole people. For the intrepid does not truly fear the
loss or the extinction of that love or that end by which he
is led, be it for life, for fame, or for country, but he boldly
defends these ; since his animus is roused and inflamed at
any insults, and the more ardently as he is by nature the
more brave, but at the same time the more moderately
in the degree that danger threatens, inasmuch as the in-
trepidity of true bravery is conjoined with presence of ani-
mus and of mind, and carefully discerns dangers as to
their character, and takes council in the field, and thus
a6ls either with ardour or with prudence, according to the
state and the possibility of peril. But fear, which is the
contrary effect and likewise a natural trait, does not rouse
and inflame the animus at the presence of peril, but de-
jects and quenches it.
(249.) As fear and intrepidity also, since they are both
natural traits, are inscribed in the very blood itself, in the
spirit of the blood, in their organs, and in the body, so
it also follows that intrepidity makes itself seen in the
face itself, in the eyes, in the sound of the voice, in the
respiration, in the strength of the muscles, and in the
actions ; especially it appears from the arteries of the body
and the fibres of the brain, which are stronger and. more
robust in the intrepid than in the timid, since the strength
of the whole body is in the arterial blood and animal spirit.
158 THE SOUL.
This is the reason why we ascribe to the brave a great
heart and a great animus, which is [a property] of the brain.
The force of this blood and spirit is excited from the in-
mosts, that is, from the superior mind or that of the pure
intelle<5lory ; hence a presence of animus and a sudden
light suffused over the mind, a heat, and as it were a fer-
vour of the blood, strength in the limbs, and a kind of
foaming in the cheeks and glands. Such an example of
bravery and intrepidity lived in Charles the Hero of the
North, in whom it was an inherited trait, since he derived it
from his ancestors, the Charleses and the Gustavuses. He
knew not what that was which others called fear, and he
laughed at all threats of death. So he lived the life which
he is also still to live, far removed from death and superior
to the failing life of the body. There is present with such
souls a singular providence, because there is something
divine in them, and it provides for them a life to which
they do not aspire, even one that is immortal in the midst
of the mortal.
(250.) That not all bravery and intrepidity is inborn,
but that there is also a kind which is acquired, we see
some to be persuaded from the examples afforded in those
timid and fearful persons who sometimes a6l bravely, al-
though not from their nature but artificially, and from the
state of their blood and change of their spirits ; for intoxi-
cating drinks and those aliments of the blood which excite
a fervour, even fever itself, mania and insanities frequently
infuse such an animus and elevate minds to a seeming
bravery. But this is not bravery but rather courage,
which is merely in the blood, in the body, on the sur-
face, and in the outermost parts, while still the fear lies
hidden within, ready to return whenever this fervour of the
blood ceases. From this courage also we may be strength-
ened in our conviction that bravery and intrepidity are
natural gifts. For this courage is not excited in these
persons until the nature of the blood and of the spirits
is changed, and it ceases with the changing cause ; while
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 1 59
everything that is natural [or inborn], even if violently
expelled, nevertheless returns. Their mind is also an
inebriated one, rather than a rational mind in which brav-
ery finds its springs, and as soon as fear returns, at the
mere idea of the danger already passed, the heart palpi-
tates, the blood rushes into the veins, the limbs collapse,
and a cold sweat is produced.
(251.) But indeed, of those possessed of an innate fear,
whose mind nevertheless is imbued with the principles of
the virtues and with the highest loves, on account of which
they vehemently long for a corresponding nature and hate
their own which does not answer to these longings, there
may be predicated an acquired fortitude, if for the sake of
becoming fearless and brave they excite and inebriate the
blood by the natural means just mentioned, regarding
these as aids in resuscitating the forces naturally languid
and torpid. This bravery is the greater moral virtue, in
that it comes not into the mind of itself or instinctively,
but from a recognition of the truth which one venerates
in others outside of oneself and sees to be impossible in
oneself except it be actuated by means. For whatever
the mind does of itself is a virtue or a vice, but whatever
it does not of itself but by nature, this is neither a virtue
nor a vice until the mind has descended to participate in
the act. But this acquired bravery never equals that
which is natural, since it is inconstant like the mind itself,
which is governed by principles.
Indignation; Angei- ; Fury ; Zeal.
(252.) In order to understand what anger is, and what
is its nature as compared with other affections of the ani-
mus, we must institute a comparison with those affections
which are purely natural and obvious to sight. For a
certain likeness appears which we recognize from the
mere statement. It was observed above that love is the
very life of the mind and the animus, for without love
l6O THE SOUL.
there would be neither mind nor animus. In what fol-
lowed it came also to be proved that the intelligence or
the reason of the mind corresponds to light, and that
light, clearness, shade, darkness, and other terms applica-
ble to light are applied to the intellect. We have also
observed above that ambition may be compared to heat,
for love without ambition is as life without heat. But
zeal is to be likened to a kind of fire, for ambition with-
out zeal is like heat without fire. When the zeal or the
fire of the superior mind passes over into the rational or
inferior mind, then it is commonly called ardour \excan-
descentia\ ; but when it passes into the animus and thence
into the body, it becomes the corporeal and impure fire
which is called anger, the flame itself being called fury.
Hence it appears that the beginning of ardour, of anger,
and of fury, is in the soul itself and the pure intelleftory,
in other words that it is conceived and born in and from
these ; thus that in its proper source, zeal or the pure fire
is naturally mild, becoming a<5live when truths, whether
natural or spiritual, are to be guarded ; but that it goes
forth impure in its derivation ; for when the mind grows
warm it defends, as if with a kind of zeal, its principles by
the love of which it is carried away as though by the love
of so many truths, and it attacks the contrary, whence
arise disputes and philosophical contests. However, that
this ardour of the mind breaks forth into a certain fire or
anger in the animus and at length into flame, in which the
whole system or bodily principle is enkindled, that is, into
fury, is apparent from the effe6l itself, for it is manifest in
the sensible heat and fire, inasmuch as the blood burns,
the viscera are heated even to the marrow, the membranes
and extremities are inflamed, the respiration becomes
harsh, the sound of the voice is hardened, as when the
air is heated, the arteries swell as when the atmosphere
is heated, both the internal and external senses are dis-
turbed as though they were excited from their natural
equilibrium into a turmoil of motions by some fire ; also
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. l6l
the thicker coverings are brought together, or the fer-
menting substances moved from their place. Thus the
heated bile, which lay hidden away in its gall-bladder, is
poured into the mass of blood, by whose grains or hard
particles the lighter and softer blood is excited, as by ex-
ternal stimulants, into a similar rage. Thus not even the
least part is without its anger or heat.
(253.) Zeal therefore is a natural affection with which
the superior mind or the soul and the pure intellectory are
furnished, in order, it would appear, that the soul may
guard its spiritual truths, and the intellecliory its natural
truths, and oppose the falsities themselves which are
contrary to these truths, with increased heat or with fire.
For when there is a falsity and a truth, or a good and an
evil, and also to both of these a force of a<5Hng, or a life,
it is necessary that there be a zeal or heat even to the fire
of a6l, in order that the enemies be brought into assault.
This is the reason why zeal is attributed to spiritual es-
sences and to Deity himself, who is described as actuated
by wrath or anger, as also why when any one is heated and
angered he ascribes this to a certain legitimate zeal for the
truth or for the defense of a just cause. There would be no
such affedlion unless there were an enemy ; therefore an-
ger is the evident proof that in the spiritual and invisible
world there is some evil which is to be combatted.
(254.) But our rational mind, which regards its princi-
ples as so many truths, is also said to be kindled with a cer-
tain zeal ; still inasmuch as the very principles of our rea-
son are rarely from truths, therefore this zeal is also rarely
a pure one ; the wrathful kindling thus originating is harsh
and vehement, like ignited carbon which is consumed by
its own fire. But whether the fire be pure or impure may
be known from the love itself and from the particular
affections and desires of the mind, especially from ambition,
which is heat, and most immediately rouses this fire. Such
therefore as is the love or the ambition such is the zeal
or kindling of the mind.
1 62 THE SOUL.
(255.) AS soon, however, as this fire breaks forth from
the rational mind into the animus, it is borne as if from a
sphere of immaterial into one of material ideas and is called
anger , for the animus is said to become angered ; on which
account its way inclines toward the body, which in accord-
ance with the anger of the animus becomes warm, boils,
bursts into flame and rages, since the whole animus is
transfused immediately into the body.
(256.) But indignation belongs only to the rational
mind, "and is the first degree of angry heat. There are,
nevertheless, in indignation many elements which mod-
erate, temper, and restrain it, lest it break out; for there
is either fear, or some love, or shame, or sadness, which
are so many reins and barriers to hold it in.
Patience ; Gentleness ; Tranquillity of Mind; Impatience.
(257.) From anger we may know what and of what
quality is patience, for where patience is there anger is not.
In so far, indeed, as anger may be compared with a certain
fire and flame, patience may be compared with a kind of
cold; as anger with hardness (for indeed its elements as if
brazen are hardened by fire), so patience with softness ; as
anger with the highest degree of activity, so patience with
passivity, whence the name itself is% derived. Therefore
patience is a tranquil, serene state of the mind, as it were
free from the storms and commotion of the affections of
the animus.
(258.) Patience also, like anger, is written in the body ;
something mild and patient shines forth from the counte-
nance, from the very sound of the speech, and so far as it
appertains to the mind, from the discourse also. The face
is serene, smiling, even while others burn ; the blood is
softer, healthier, warm but not burning, full of vital heat
but not concreted into fibres ; the pulse is lighter and
more constant, the bile is not dark but more yellow in
colour, the arteries more yielding, the fibres tender, the
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 163
organs more vigorous and ready to obey the dictates of the
mind, and in ah parts there is manifest a pleasing grace, if
not beauty. In a word, each particular part of the body
is patient ; for as is the mind and the animus such is the
state of the most particular parts of the whole body, since
the latter conforms to the image and nature of its soul.
If otherwise it is a sign that the mind is injured from
some cause.
(259.) Patience, so far as it is the tranquil and serene
state of the mind, free from disturbance by the affections
of the animus, is itself the most perfect state ; for the
mind is, in this state, left to itself, has time for its own
operations, regards its reasons more interiorly, and forms
its judgments more sincerely, and out of these it selects
the truer, the better, and more fitting, and remits them
into its will, which then is not possessed with the tumult
of natural desires. Thus enjoying an almost perfect liberty,
it holds the animus subject to itself as if in chains, nor
does it permit it to wander beyond the limits of its own
choice. Thus also it commands the actions of its body,
and more purely and intelligently receives and contem-
plates its sensations. When the mind is thus left to itself,
and neither corporeal or mundane things nor the heat
thence arising disturbs its ease, then it enjoys the inmost
fellowship with its pure intellectory or the soul, and suf-
fers natural and spiritual truths to flow in ; for it is only
the corporeal affe<5tions and desires of the animus which
obscure and pervert the intellectual ideas of the mind.
Hence it is that the mind, in its state of patience or tran-
quility, is cold in its constitution as compared with the
heats of the animus and thence of the body, but very full
of love or of the more pure and perfect life. For that
there be any mind it must be warmed with a certain love,
but the purer this is the purer is the mind, because the
better is the life. From this state the mind regards the
lower loves and those purely corporeal as infantile sports,
or as insane, and the more so as they are believed to be
164 THE SOUL.
wise. Thus witnessing these it does not become heated
and angered, but it pities, condoles, pardons, tries to
amend, rejoices in its success, bears its injuries as a mother
those infli<5led by her child ; for it embraces all in its love,
while it hates vices. Patience, therefore, may well exist
without anger, but it is not without its zeal by which it
defends, although with moderation, its truths. The mind
is never disturbed by such a fire, still less extinguished,
but is refreshed, for this agrees with its nature. For the
rational mind, the more it is liberated from impure fires
the more it burns with the pure fire which is mild and
does not rage, but restores its state.
(260.) Such patience, which is the moderator of the
passions of the animus, is rarely inborn, for every one has
an inclination to certain affections of the mind ; but with
age and with the judgment it grows, and especially is it
perfected by its own exercise ; but that which is genuine
does not exist without the truths of religion and the
principles of piety, nor without violence done to the na-
tures of the animus and the body. Misfortune even, and
sickness, which repress the fervour of the blood and the
spirits, are also frequently the causes of this patience.
(261.) The character of impatience may be inferred
from this description of patience, for it is of the rational
mind, which desires ends, while the end is hindered or ob-
structed by intervening obstacles or by the ideas of im-
possibilities, which are so many resistances, lest the will
should break forth into acts. Hence the animus which
desires is tortured, and the body is distressed and the
mind regards single moments as long delays. Thus the
more ardent is the animus the greater is the impatience ;
the more tranquil the mind, the less it is. Least of all is
the impatience of those who commit their fortunes to the
Divine Providence.
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 165
Shame.
(262.) In shame both the internal and the external
sensory, as also the single fibres and single arteries, con-
tract themselves, since whatever is the state of the sens-
ory such is that of the fibres and consequently of the
arteries. Thus the spirit is expelled by the nervous fibres
into the motor fibres of the arteries, and the blood from
the larger arteries into the capillaries, whence arises a
redness and inflammation of the face, dropping of the eyes,
a hiding, a stupor of the sensations, cessation of breath-
ing and of the determinations of the will, or inaction. For.
the sensory itself, being compressed, does not dare as it
were to lift itself, but withdraws into itself so that the
mind may hide itself, not only from others but from itself;
since it is the shame of self so far as the mind itself is
conscious of anything indecorous, dishonest, or criminal.
Therefore when no one except the mind itself is aware it
is rarely ashamed, unless with regard to the fact that
some other may know [the cause of shame]. Accordingly,
without committing any crime even, the mind may be suf-
fused with shame reflecting on the possibilities of its hap-
pening, or on something noticed which it alone knows.
Shame belongs to the brave and the timid alike ; in the
brave the face blushes, in the timid it turns pale, for the
fear of some injury or loss ensues. Shame also lets down
the muscles of the face, so that they are without any de-
termining force like that of the pendulum.
(263.) There is this other difference between fear and
shame, that fear causes the internal and external sensories
to fall lifeless and insensible of themselves, but that
shame, of its own will and by a native force, contracts its
sensory and takes away its faculty of changing its state ;
wherefore, in that moment, before it recollects itself, all
determination of will ceases, and there follows an oblivion
or forgetfulness of particular things.
(264.) Shame increases according to the sincerity of
1 66 THE SOUL.
the mind and its love of what is honourable ; for then it
fears to sin against the rules of honour or against the
rules of the decorous, which it believes is the honourable,
since there are those who do not well distinguish the
decorous from the honourable and therefore are affected
with the shame of both. But inasmuch as the honourable
declares itself through the decorous, since the decorous
is the external of the honourable, therefore we are care-
ful to observe the laws of both. Shame is greater in the
presence of superiors than of equals, and there is none in
the presence of inferiors except the mind be a greater
lover of the honourable. Shame is greater also in the
presence of those we love and venerate ; but when the love
is mutual and in place of veneration pure love succeeds,
there is as it were another self. The shame then is none
other than one feels of one's self alone. That is a sublime
mind which feels shame even in no one's presence, a proof
that it is led by veneration toward the truth, toward hon-
esty, toward justice, and the other virtues, and regards
these as being themselves its own superiors.
(265.) There is little or no shame in those who scorn
and are averse to virtue itself, and who esteem no one as
their superior, as also in the stupid and dull of intellect.
Wherefore the lowest of men, without conscience, with-
out love of honour, are those who feel no shame, who
are possessed of a most criminal intent, and who in the
presence of crimes which they are conscious of having
committed or of being about to commit, stand with open
and lifted eyes, or as exhibiting no spark of the higher
mind within.
(266.) But inasmuch as principles regarding the hon-
ourable and decorous are somewhat various, the sense of
shame also varies somewhat, one person not being affected
with the feeling of another ; thus these senses of shame
take their turn. We are also affected even with the shame
of those with whom we have had no acquaintance ; which
comes from its being reflected from them upon ourselves,
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 167
and thus from a certain friendly relationship which we
sustain with all of our race.
Envy.
(267.) Envy is hatred mingled with anger, but the
anger lies concealed like fire under the ashes, wherefore
it is an inmost consuming heat which when it breaks
forth causes insanity. Hence the blood is suffused and
heavy with bile, thick, full of flecks, of obscure colour,
stagnant in the least pores, whence comes the blueness in
the face. This same fire also consumes and scorches, and
this causes leanness. The gall bladder is crowded with
the black bile, because of its continually spouting forth
anew, and this is mingled with the blood. There is also a
darkness in the countenance, hatred mingled with anger
gleams from the eyes, where there is no light of joy, and
even in the voice and speech something harsh is perceived.
The animus is always obscure, and the mind sad ; it is
rarely lightened and exhilarated, for it perceives nothing
of the sweetness of harmony. The very state of the mind
is a discord, wherefore it loves disharmony as harmony.
Thence the very misfortune, poverty, and miseries of
others are what soothe and gratify it ; nor does it rejoice
in its own good fortune or happiness unless there lies
hidden even in this something of revenge.
(268.) Particular envy is common to all, and most
natural, for it is found even in little children, and in brute
animals and their young. For example, we envy in an-
other that which we ourselves love, as a lover the bride,
and a competitor the honour of his rival ; so in other
things, the envy never extending beyond the limit of that
which we love and desire.
But a general envy arises from the supreme love of
self. It envies all people, all things, and each one partic-
ular thing ; it imagines the universe its own and for itself,
and itself as the whole and not a part. It envies others
1 68 THE SOUL.
their heaven ; the devil envies even Deity his power.
Thus at heart it is the enemy of all. But he who is not
a lover of self, but generous, is not envious. From the
description of hatred and anger, if these are compared,
still further particulars may be derived [concerning
envy],
Revenge.
(270.) Revenge flows from hatred and envy. Hatred
indeed is the contrary of love ; but it is not the privation
of love and thus of life. It is rather a contrary love, and
especially a love of the evil. For there is a love of the
good and a love of the evil. One is contrary to the other,
hence one hates the other. Thus in hatred there is a life,
and if life there is also heat and fire, but that which is
grosser, more impure, hence natural and corporeal. It
resides in the animus and not in the mind, unless the
mind be united with the animus of the body. This heat
of hatred is called the lust of revenge, and if anger ensues
such as is that of envy, then it becomes fire and vengeance.
Thus the lust of revenge is the very fire, the aftive prin-
ciple or highest degree of the activity of hatred or of the
love of evil.
(271.) As envy is particular and general, so also is re-
venge and its lust. Particular envy is natural to all, and
is the lust of revenge, thus it is inborn in tender infants
before the age of reason, and in particuiar animals which
are even by nature furnished with weapons for defense
against injuries. And since revenge is natural it is also
naturally pleasing, since it clears up the sad mind and
clouded animus, refreshes and restores it to its natural
condition, hatred being dissipated and envy extinguished.
The pleasure of revenge is according to the degree in
which hatred and particular envy had existed ; but the de-
sire of revenge is for the most part accompanied with sad-
ness, unless the mind sees the possibility of obtaining its
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 169
end, although in some minds the desire itself exhilarates
the animus.
(272.) The general desire of revenge is similar to gen-
eral envy, for it arises from the same source, and thus simi-
lar attributes belong to both ; the latter is always united
with a spurious ambition or with the love of self. The de-
sire of revenge is never united with true ambition or with
the universal love of the good, unless for the sake of the
extirpation of evil. For zeal and righteous sorrow give
birth to revenge, but still in the desire and in the revenge
love remains, for it wishes to destroy the evil in order
that after its destruction it may revive the good. Such
is the divine vengeance : but the greater the love the
greater the desire of avenging evil, since love persuades
to- be like itself and to be united with itself. What-
ever therefore, disjoins and hinders the possession of the
desired good, love hates and devours, and eagerly seeks
to annihilate ; and this often is accompanied with anxi-
ety, grief, and unhappiness in the subject.
Misanthropy ; Love of Solitude.
(273.) Misanthropy is properly the hatred of the hu-
man race, or it flows from such a universal hatred ; rarely
from envy or from hatred mixed with anger, since this
breathes vengeance, which presupposes life in society.
Misanthropy is united with contempt, or privation of a
sensibility, of the pleasure of the body or of the delights
of the animus. There are misanthropes who do not ap-
pear such, because they possess an animus desirous of
pleasures which can only be indulged in company and in
civil life, or by sociability. There are those also who from
their esteem of reputation are unwilling to appear as mis-
anthropes, but when once this desire and this love of fame
ceases they become such. They are for the most part
extremely given up to self-love. This vice is very natu-
ral and inborn, for it arises sometimes from the ill success
THE SOUL.
of some highest love, and thus from despair, since the
highest love persuades that the only thing and the all in
the universe is that which it loves, and this being lost it
believes all to be lost. The misanthrope is regarded in
society as nobody or as an abjecT:, and this he deserves
since by his hatred he is separated from all. He is to be
the more esteemed, indeed, if he separates himself than
if he intermingles, for when he mixes with society he
injures others, but when alone only himself.
(274.) There are misanthropes special and particular
those, namely, who hold in aversion or hatred some spe-
cial race, or nation, or family, or certain persons. If this
proceeds from hatred and from the causes of hatred, if
from aversion and indeed a natural aversion, it is anti-
pathy ; if from what is acquired, it is from some presumed
or real dissimilitude of principles and of loves ; this also
can be turned into antipathy, which remains in one's pos-
terity.
(275.) The love of solitude is commonly believed to
be misanthropy because misanthropy loves to be solitary.
But the love of solitude may have its origin in a great
many other causes ; it arises naturally from melancholy,
when it is a disease sometimes curable, for then it inmostly
desires to indulge its phantasies, and even extends these
so far that it interests itself in particular things, in thought
if not in the body. He also loves to be alone who is de-
voted to studies, especially those of a theoretical nature,
and who chooses solitude lest the mind be disturbed, and
he loves his studies and his solitude in equal measure. For
that the mind may be at ease it must as it were be sep-
arated from those things which excite the animus and
the sensations of the body and also the other loves of the
mind. He also is accustomed to be solitary who thinks
all things to be only vanity and himself alone not a van-
ity, or who desires to become secure from vanities and
therefore separates himself from society, as certain philo-
sophers are wont to do, the chief of whom either laugh at
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. I/I
all things or weep at all things. Those are solitary by zeal
and not by their nature who sacrifice themselves to God
lest they be drawn away by worldly enticements, like the
hermits, the most illustrious of whom are those who use
force and violence in controlling the desires of their ani-
mus, and thus their bodies, and do this with the intent
that they may go forth the more pure and holy.
Cruelty.
(276.) Cruelty in general is the love of extirpating the
human race, finding its highest delight in their anxieties,
griefs, and pains. It flows from hatred and general mis-
anthropy, and a supreme degree of self-love. For the
subject of this love regards himself alone as the universe,
and all those who are about him as opposing him because
he cannot alone exist. This love also arises from an ex-
treme degree of love of the world, or it may be of hon-
ours, or from an extreme love of the good things of the
earth, that is, of riches, thus from envy of a general kind.
It is especially opposed to pity. What the character of
cruelty is appears, therefore, from the face itself, thus
whether it come from the love of self, or from the love of
the world, or of the good things of earth, and thus from
hatred or envy toward those who possess these, seeing
that he alone desires to possess them. This is the reason
why cruelty is often hidden under a very honest face, but
if it be exercised is likely to change into an aspect of
hatred and revenge, and to end in madness.
(277.) In all revenge there is cruelty, for he who is
desirous of revenge loves to have the one he hates tor-
tured in mind and in body, and this according to the de-
gree of his hatred ; but the vengeance that arises from
zeal and from a righteous displeasure loves to give pain
so far as this is the means of extirpating the evil, the love
toward the person remaining all the while undiminished.
The cruelty is the same whether it flows from one's own
172 THE SOUL.
hatred or from that of another whom one loves as him-
self. It ascends according to the degree of the love. He
who slays his enemies is not cruel, but he is cruel who ill-
treats the conquered and those incapable of harm. There-
fore as is the vengeance such is the cruelty ; as is the
hatred, such the vengeance ; and as are the anger and
zeal in the vengeance such is the pleasure of this ven-
geance.
(278.) There is a certain correspondence between
venereal love and cruelty, or between the love of propa-
gating and the love of extirpating the human race. They
are contrary in themselves, but they agree in the phe-
nomena of their effects, as those contraries often do which
come together in a third term, for otherwise the circle of
their relation could not exist. Each of these loves ex-
cites the organs of the sensory, the fibres, the members
of generation, and produces the generative substance, as
is known from natural history. Hence it appears that
the affection of cruelty is as delicious to perverted minds
as is the venereal love to minds that are pure, for the
one does not extinguish the other but excites it. Such
would be the Devil clothed in a human form.
Clemency.
(279.) Clemency is the queen and as it were the god-
dess of virtues. Wherefore to be clement is to be not
only kingly but divine, as the king by clemency emulates
the Deity. For true clemency is without hatred, without
self-love, without envy, vengeance, anger, cruelty, or
without any naturally unpleasant affection. It is always
conjoined with love toward those to whom the clemency
is exercised, thus united with tranquillity of the animus,
happiness of mind, and pity. Love is always clement. From
clemency the quality of the love may be known, and to
whom extended. If it is the love of truth there is clem-
ency united with justice ; if the love of honour and vir-
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 173
tues, especially if it be the love of piety and veneration
of the Deity, the case is the same.
(280.) But if the love be that of vices, falsities, van-
ities, impiety, clemency will be exercised to the disad-
vantage of those by whose mutual love it is affected,
and this clemency is spurious and unjust. Clemency is
for the most part a natural trait, like patience, for he
who is clement cannot be cruel ; this clemency is opposed
to cruelty and from the description of cruelty the char-
acter of clemency may appear. But there is also an
acquired clemency when cruelty is joined to fear but lies
hidden, a snake in the grass. Clemency may be therefore
both spurious and legitimate, thus a vice and a virtue.
Intemperance; Luxury.
(281.) Intemperance in general means all excess of
the desires of the mind, of the lusts of the animus, of the
delights and pleasures of the body, of the world and the
good things of the earth. But intemperance in particular
means excess in eating and drinking, as when we call it
indulging one's appetite, sacrificing to Bacchus and Ceres,
and caring for the belly. Every love and every pleasure
is for the sake of the end that we may live a healthy life
in a healthy body ; therefore the earth abounds in every
thing enabling us to enjoy these loves and pleasures, pro-
vided it be as means and not as ends. When we regard
particular loves and particular pleasures as means, then
we enjoy each in a temperate way and in a manner to
attain the end. But when we regard these as ends and
not as means then we fall into excess, and the more
ardently as we love the end.
(282.) Thus intemperance denotes a perverse state of
mind, very limited and material, which in a word confines
its ends to very narrow limits. But the more elevated
mind perceives that one thing is for the sake of another,
and that there is a chain of means to a most universal
1/4 THE SOUL.
end. Such a chain is the created universe, or the world,
or terrestial society, or our very selves.
(283.) There is nothing in our entire body which is
not a means to some higher end. The last end is the soul,
for the sake of which the body exists. The soul, which is
the end of the loves of the body, is not the most universal
end, but is an end intermediate to a more universal one,
nor do we conclude with anything short of the very
Deity of the universe, which is the end and the beginning
of all things.
(284.) Therefore since there is nothing which is not an
intermediate end, it follows that there can be intemperance
in all means which are assumed as ends. For all means in
themselves are [regarded] as ends because they are distinct
terms, but they are [properly] ends [intermediate] or in-
termediate terms. Therefore to enumerate all kinds of
intemperance and describe their cause, nature, and effect,
would be to review again all the affections of the mind,
the animus, and the body. Any one from the description
of the affections may judge of their defect and excess.
(285.) This alone need be said, that all intemperance
is contrary to nature, and what does violence to nature
destroys either our mind, or our animus, or our body.
Thus when these are ruled by the will, and the will
by desire, and the desire by loves, not as means but
as ends, we rush into so many causes of destruction,
whence is the death of the body.
(286.) But the virtues, honesty, perfection, spiritual
happiness, these can never be intemperately desired and
loved, for in the body we never shall be able to arrive at
perfection itself, but the infinite will still remain beyond.
But spiritual intemperance is to desire perfection more
perfect than its own nature admits of being ; thus as if
the mind could become like the soul, or the soul like God,
instead of being only most perfect in its own degree, and
thus an image, type, and likeness of things superior.
(287.) The inferior form can never be elevated to the
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 175
perfection of the superior form, unless by previous disso-
lution and its own death. Therefore we subsist still within
the limits of temperance as long as we desire a more per-
fect state, however immoderately it may appear ; thus so
long as the mind desires intelligence and wisdom. Intem-
perance, therefore, is always a vice and not a virtue.
Temperance; Parsimony ; Frugality.
(288.) We learn what temperance is from the descrip-
tion of intemperance, that, namely, it is a moderate use of
the delights and pleasures of the body in order that these
may be corresponding and proportionate means to ends.
Thus intemperance properly signifies excess, but it in-
volves also a defect, for a defect in one regard does not
exist without an excess in some other, as a defect in
nourishing the body indicates an excessive economy ; and
there is besides an excess of avarice or of abstinence
which is equally injurious to the body. Therefore a mod-
eration in all things is itself temperance, but it is known
by other names when reference is had to other objects ;
as temperance denotes moderation in eating and drink-
ing, parsimony, moderation in spending wealth and the
goods of the earth, while frugality has regard to domestic
economy. So in other things. Meanwhile, inasmuch as
temperance is a natural mediocrity, it is qualified accord-
ing to the nature of any one, wherefore the temperance
of one is sometimes the intemperance of another, and so
on. Therefore the measure and the scales of all the
affections of the mind as well as of the animus and of the
body, of which we have thus far treated, is temperance
which is the preserver of all in order that there may be a
sound mind in a sound body.
In a word, explore that you may understand what
is true and what is good, and regard all things as medi-
ate ends, by which you may arrive at the ultimate end in
continually inquiring, For what end ?
176 THE SOUL.
XV.
CONCERNING THE ANIMUS AND T-HE RATIONAL MIND
[MENS].
(289.) There is nothing more difficult in the science
of rational psychology than clearly to understand, and
when understood clearly to set forth, what is properly
the animus and what is properly the mind \mens] ; for the
several things which are put into action in our inner sens-
ories appear like a little chaos whose surface even we
cannot distinctly see, still less its parts, one of which ad-
heres to another as in a chain ; it may be in some meas-
ure compared with the animalcule, which we can hardly
reach with the aid of the microscope, from whose motion
alone we understand that it is something living, nor do
we doubt but that its little viscera are distinctly produced
and separate, and that it enjoys a brain, medulla spinalis,
lungs, stomach, intestines, muscles, and sensory organs,
since the eye has detected this in similar animalcules by
the aid of the optic art. But where the sight hardly
touches the surface it is very difficult to divine the inte-
rior and more hidden things ; and such is the case with
our inner sensory. We are able by reflection to discover
that we perceive, understand, think, choose, desire, will,
are determined to act, and that these are companies of
loves, cupidities, desires, pleasures, ends. Since these are
all of one sensory, and appear as though continuous and
united, it is only with the greatest difficulty that they
can be separately evolved, and that the ideas of our own
intellect may be distinctly presented to the intellect of
another. For who can see in the dark the art of the
THE ANIMUS AND THE RATIONAL MIND. 177
painter or the beauty of the figure ? and who will properly
perceive it even if the painter in the dark explains the
figures by his words ? Therefore we must await the rising
of the sun and of light, in order that all things may be
laid open as it were to the life.
(290.) And this is the reason why we are ignorant as to
what the mind is and what the animus. It was believed
by the ancients who were not philosophers, that the ani-
mus was the same as our sou], wherefore, also they said
that the animus is immortal ; but the philosophers dis-
tinguished between the animus and the mind [mens], and
they acknowledged a certain superior animus which they
called the mind [mens]. Some even make mention of a
certain superior and purer mind* [mens] also in us ; but
in order to discover what the one and what the other is,
what is their distinction and what their conjunction, we
ought ourselves by some untiring reflection and intellect-
ual observation to go into the several operations, and in-
deed in their order, one after the other, and then after hav-
ing performed this labour we ought often to go over the
parts again, and so examine by what chain they are held
together. For our mind is not constituted differently
from the internal form itself of the body, which enables
us to know what it is only through operations, only by our
anatomically laying bare one part after another and ex-
ploring and inspecting it within. Such an anatomy of the
mind is also required : thus we are to be taught what we
are from ourselves, and the mind is to be investigated by
the mind ; for so scientifically does it act from itself that
all the philosophical sciences have gathered hardly more
than the least part of a knowledge of it. But let us pass
on and inquire, What is the animus, and what is the
mind ?
(291.) That the animus is not the soul, and is not the
same as the rational mind, is most evident from the fact
* See Appendix II. [Tr.
THE SOUL.
that all those affections and cupidities which are purely
animal are ascribed to it, as anger, venereal love, envy,
and others, which are not peculiar to the human race, but
belong as well to the brute animals. The animus is never
called rational, like the mind ; all the cupidities of the ani-
mus die with us ; for after death anger, lust, haughtiness,
pride, fear, revenge, and other similar affections do not re-
main, and without these the animus could not live, because
it is of these that it consists. Thus the animus is purely
animal, and as it were an inferior or irrational mind ; for
while the animus is affected and desires, it is not that which
thinks, since it is beneath that animus, so to speak, which
thinks and is called rational. Wherefore the cupidities of
our animus are to be restrained by a certain higher or
rational mind, and to be moderated according to the decis-
ion of the judgment of the mind. Moreover, the soul and
its every affection is inscribed on the countenance itself,
on the tone, the voice, the action, that is to say, on the
body ; and at the same time the animus has been inscribed
on every thing flowing in ; wherefore the animus is so
close to the body that it is in it, and shows itself corpor-
eally, as in anger, revenge, haughtiness, hatred, love, and
the rest. Moreover, what we think does not shine forth
from the face unless the thought be conjoined with the
affection of the animus, except a slight twinkling in the
eyes if they are unable to simulate ; from which it clearly
appears that the rational mind is most distinct from the
animus, but nevertheless so conjoined with it that we may
call our rational mind the superior animus, and the ani-
mus the lower mind ; but let us take care lest we con-
found the ideas through similitude of words.
(292.) But it is asked, What is the animus ? If we call
the animus the inferior mind, still by this denomination
we do not understand what the animus is so long as what
the mind is is unknown to us. Therefore we are not thus
helped to know what the animus is. If we define the ani-
mus as the beginning of the mutations of our body, we ac-
THE ANIMUS AND THE RATIONAL MIND. 1/9
knowledge indeed that there is a beginning, for nothing
ought to flow forth except from its beginning ; but what
the animus is is still unknown, for there are infinite be-
ginnings of mutations ; and each would have to be ex-
plained as to what it is, in order that we might affirm or
deny that the animus is such a beginning.
(293.) If the animus is described as being the form of
the material ideas of our common sensory, it will be neces-
sary to explain what form is, what material ideas are, and
how their forms are to be conceived of, and lastly what this
common sensory is to which is ascribed the form of
ideas. If the animus is called the universal affection of the
sensory, or if we say that the affections taken together
constitute the animus, nevertheless the question arises,
What is it ; where is it ; of what kind is it ? For the ani-
mus is still to be affected, and not the universal affection.
So whichever way we turn, our search still ends in some
hidden quality. Thence it results that the animus is be-
lieved to be in some crypt of the brain, like the regulus
of the eye ; or that it is a quality which is without a sub-
ject, and that the quality may be some such principle or
beginning as that of the mutations of the body.
(294.) But in order that we may understand what the
animus is, we must at least approach its source ; for it is
not to be doubted that the brain receives all the senses of
the external organs, such as touch, taste, smell, hearing,
and sight ; for from these several organs the nerves go out,
which reach to and enter the medulla oblongata and the
brain itself; and that the brain receives the inflowing
senses is shown by infinite other phenomena, since when
the brain is obstructed, or a nerve entering the brain is
obstructed, all sensation perishes at once. Therefore by
common consent the brain is called the common sensory.
(295.) This also is an admitted truth [cons fans veritas~\,
that every nerve is divided into fibres and fibrils, and that
each fibre has its own origin. If we follow the fibre to its
origin we see manifestly that it terminates in a certain lit-
ISO THE SOUL.
tie head or small globule which is called the cortical
gland ; this can even be seen by the aid of the microscope.
Therefore since the sensations which run to the brain
cannot subsist midway, but must by all means strive on-
ward to their origins or beginnings, there ought to be
in these beginnings that which feels and receives the
sense. These beginnings are as many as there are fibres ;
for such is their abundance and luxuriance that they con-
stitute the whole covering of the mass of the brain and
also occupy its interior. It follows that these glandules
taken together are that which is called the common sens-
ory. If we examine this cortex or this substance we
perceive that all its parts or all its glandules are together
disposed into a certain form which is most perfect, and
which we call the spiral ; and also that these glandules
are distinguished from one another, co-ordinated and sub-
ordinated ; in a word, that these glandules, which are so
many little sensories, constitute the form of the particu-
lars. This much being premised, we may see what the
animus is. This cortical brain or common sensory receives,
as it is said, all the external sensations, but it also per-
ceives all the single differences which are impressed on
the fibres and nipples of the organs. This sensation can-
not be called the animus. This is the bare perception of
sensations, or of the modes with their differences and
discriminations. It is therefore the common sensory
which feels and perceives, but not the animus. But still
every simple or compound sensation is a certain form,
consisting it may be of the discriminations of the slight-
est touches and forces ; such is the sensation of taste,
such the smell, such the hearing whose forms are dis-
tinctly perceived both in song and in the single word
which is thence called the articulated sound ; such is
the sensation of sight, for every object or every image is
formed from the differences of light and shade, especially
the composed image or the object in its totality. This
form, while it appeals to the common sensory or cortical
THE ANIMUS AND THE RATIONAL MIND. l8l
brain, is not perceived simply as sensation, that is, as being
sweet, bitter, pleasant, beautiful, harmonious or inharmo-
nious, but it also exhilarates and gladdens the brain, or
saddens the animus, exactly according to the quality, the
perfection and imperfection of its form. This is called the
brain's animus which is said to be affected ; thus the animus
is not separated from the common sensory ; and so far as it
is the sensory which is affected, this itself is, as regards the
affection, the animus ; so the perception is a distinct thing
from the affection ; and yet both are of the brain.
(296.) Thus it is the common sensory which is affected
pleasantly or unpleasantly, delightfully or undelightfully ;
whence the sense, and thus the joy, the sadness, or any
other passion which is ascribed to the animus alone.
Properly it is the joy or the sadness itself which flows
forth from that grace or that harmony or disharmony of
modes in those things which are felt and perceived, which
is called the external affection of the animus ; but there
is also an internal affection. The animus is also the
principle or source of all the changes of its body ; for the
affection itself of the sensory or of the single cortical sub-
stance is transfused into the containing fibres, and by
those into the whole body which is formed only of fibres ;
thus passion is ascribed to the mind, that is, affection ; as
also action, that is, the beginning or source of actions.
(297.) But because the mind of one is not similar to
the mind of another, but what affects one pleasantly
affects another unpleasantly, and by the same harmony of
sound or form of vision one is made happy, another made
sad, it follows that the state of one sensory is different
from that of another ; for the affection is according to the
state of the sensory. For the same operation upon two
dissimilar subjects varies according to the state of the re-
cipient or of him who is affected ; and because the animus
is rejoiced, saddened, desires, is made angry, undertakes to
do, and thus has life in it, it must be that in the common
sensory and in the particular little sensories there is
1 82 THE SOUL.
that which lives ; hence we must inquire whence derives
the animus this its essence and its life.
(298.) That we may still better understand what the
animus is let us speak by examples. What in the taste is
saporiferous, this is perceived in the common sensory as
something sweet, something bitter, or acid ; but this per-
ception does not go farther, and even the pleasure also is
in the same sense as though in a certain common taste ;
but still an appetite is thence excited, and indeed for
those things which agree with the state of the body ; as
in those brutes which from taste alone seek for those
things agreeing with their nature ; and this faculty of the
appetite is what belongs to the animus.
Similarly in the sense of smell. In the sounds of hear-
ing [this appears] still more evidently ; the modulations
of the song and the particular differences of the sounds
are perceived by the common sensory, likewise also har-
mony itself, and grace, of which there is as it were a com-
mon sensation ; but the hilarity and joy, and the affec-
tions thence arising of every love, is something belonging
to the animus. Likewise in the objects of sight, the
smiling grassplots of the garden, with the particular flow-
ers, roses, and orchards, are perceived by the eye and the
common sensory, also the beauty resulting from the or-
derly arrangement of the plants : but the inmost de-
lights thence arising, love from the view of the beautiful ;
and revenge, fear, anger, from the sight of an enemy ; pity
at the sight of the miserable, — these are of the animus,
which is carried away into various affections thence aris-
ing, and from these into desires which are communi-
cated to the body.
From these things we see how difficult it is to per-
ceive distinctly what the animus is, and what perception,
for there is as it were a distinct nature to each ; the dif-
ferences of perception are as many as appear in the sens-
ations, which are innumerable. But the kinds of animus
\animi\ are as many as are the affections, each of which
THE ANIMIAS AND THE RATIONAL MIND.
carries its own special and particular differences. From
the comparison itself it may be understood that there is
in the animus a certain life which is communicated to the
perception of sensation or the sensory, without which
there would be no sensations ; thus the animus is the life
of the sensations.
(299.) But the animus lives not from itself but from
the very soul, which alone lives, and by which all remain-
ing things in the body live. The animus, however, can-
not live in the same manner as the soul, for it is far re-
moved therefrom, and it is a more imperfect and composed
form, which is that of the common sensory from whose
form the animus derives its being called a form ; therefore
we must now inquire, What is that mind which is the
form of forms, and may be called the higher animus ?
(300.) It is equally difficult to understand what the
mind is, although nothing is more familiar in common talk,
and that this word is always appropriately inserted in
conversation is an indication that our rational mind knows
exactly what it is, but that we are ourselves ignorant.*
We ought, however, to inquire regarding it as we would
ask of an anatomist, what is in the heart and arteries,
when he knows from the pulse that there is something
from which the pulsation comes. If it is not defined by
the " form of forms " it would be better to say that
" the mind is the mind," or that there is something
which may be expressed by form, by which we mean
a quality more hidden than the mind. But if we say
that the mind is the principle of all the mutations
of the animus, we must explain Principle, what it is,
where it is, of what nature ; for principle is a general
word like force and cause, which may be said to be in any
thing. If the mind is said to be the source of the rational
affections, resulting from the harmonies of intellectual or
• The author is understood to mean here that our instindtive knowledge of the
mind enables us to use the term corredtiy, while we remain intellectually ignorant
of what, in all its particulars, the term implies. [Tr.
1 84 THE SOUL.
immaterial ideas, as the animus results from ideas not
immaterial, something appears to be expressed, by which
we approach more nearly to a knowledge of the mind ;
but that it may be perceived the source itself must be
inquired into, [tracing it] from its streams and the streams
from those things thence derived which either present
themselves before the senses as effects, or have some
analogy with sensible things.
(301.) To explore, therefore, what the mind or the su-
perior animus is, we must proceed in the same way as
above in the exploration concerning the animus, that or-
ganic substance itself; or we must seek out that internal
sensory where the mind as it were resides. For that the
mind is in the brain is beyond the possibility of a doubt ;
the state of the mind is the state of the brain ; they are so
far united that whenever the one is injured, languishes,
and seems about to die, the other is equally so. It is to
be borne in mind that the senses of the external organs
through the containing fibres flash even to their begin-
nings or to the cortical glandules, and that in these surely
ought to reside that principle which is in the senses. This
glandule has been frequently shown above to be the brain
in its least effigy, and there is in it a medullary and
cortical substance similar and analogous to that which
is seen in the common brain ; some such little body
therefore we have called the internal sensory, and we
have observed that these little sensories taken together
constitute the common sensory ; if accordingly there is a
similar analogous cortical substance in each such little
sensory, it follows that that substance taken together is
the particular or internal sensory itself, and that its each
least cortical part is an intellectory in which, we will sup-
pose, is the pure intellect, concerning which hereafter.
From this idea, by mere comparison and analogy, it
may be understood what and of what kind is the supe-
rior animus or the mind ; but let us institute the com-
parative analogy itself.
THE ANIMUS AND THE RATIONAL MIND. 185
Especially may the sensations of sight be compared
with the ideas of imagination or of thought ; for they
mutually correspond, and by cultivation the images pass
over into similar ideas ; thus in the place of the images of
the sight are substituted intellectual ideas, and with these
we may proceed in the same manner as with the sensa-
tions above for which we investigated the origin of the
animus : so we shall find the mind itself.
(302.) On the internal sensory itself are impressed as
many ideas (as it were immaterial images, if we may use
so crude a term) as there are images of the memory and
the imagination which are formed and drawn out by the
changes of the state of the sensory ; these immaterial or
rational ideas are perceived in the pure intellect or in that
most simple or simple cortex, in the same way as the
images of the sight are perceived in the common or ex-
ternal sensory ; consequently the ideas themselves are like
so many internal sensations with their differences ; the
ideas thus understood constitute the mind, but only its
intellecl: or its thought. That good and loveable affection
which results from the harmony of these ideas or from the
thought is that which is said to flow from the mind ; con-
sequently that which is affected is the mind, and the mind
is that life itself which is in the animus, therefore the
principle or beginning of its mutations.
(303.) But still we are ignorant as to what the mind
is ; for when it is said to be life and a principle, it is ra-
tionally conceived as being a certain quality flowing from
the form of its intellectory when affected ; and thus as
nothing \iiulla~\ without its organic substance. But we
may not stop here ; let us go farther. This intellectory
or purest cortical substance of the internal sensory can
by no means exist and subsist of itself. This ought to
consist of substances still more simple, that is, of the
most simple of its realm. These most simple substances
are what we call the soul [anima], in which there is life,
and which is the mind itself of its intellectory, and conse-
1 86 THE SOUL.
quently the life of the mind itself, which nevertheless lies
so internally hidden or dwells so deeply within that it is
distant from the animus by several degrees of perfection.
From the description of the soul we understand this mind
itself, what it is, what its quality is, or what its form, and
what its principle is.
(304.) There are therefore a superior mind and an infe-
rior mind (or mind properly so called), which reign in the
animated body and which mutually communicate their oper-
ations. The mind itself properly so called is spiritual ; but
the animus is purely natural, and may be called corporeal
so far as it is immediately affected by the harmonies of the
senses of the body and flows immediately into the features
of the body and into the forms of the actions ; this there-
fore is the reason why some of the ancients called the ani-
mus immortal, understanding by this the mind, as may be
seen from the proper interpretation of their language.
(305.) In order, therefore, that the mind properly so
called may communicate with the animus and by the ani-
mus with the body, there intervenes a certain mind called
the rational, which is our proper mind, which is affected,
desires, wishes, and at length determines its desires into
acts. Very many have believed that this rational mind
is that superior, and indeed supreme, mind which lives
in us, and this latter they seem to confound with thought.
But that the case is otherwise plainly appears from those
particulars of which we have already treated, and from
others which are to follow. For the rational mind itself
is not able to derive its essence and its life from itself,
but through culture, knowledges, and arts ; and in the
course of time it becomes such that it can possess more
in itself than all the sciences in the universe can ever
exhaust. These things it does not derive from that
culture and experience, nor can it derive them from
itself; there must be certainly a superior mind which flows
in, which is pure and spiritual, and possesses in itself all
that nature which we ourselves admire as the superior in
THE ANIMUS AND THE RATIONAL MIND. l8/
that mind, and from which we draw forth only a few drops
that we may conceive and put forth our theoretical and
psychological sciences.
(306.) But this mind which is called the rational is not
properly the mind, for it is intermediate between the mind
and the animus and participates of both, and thus is born
of both. For a spiritual mind flows into it from above,
and a natural mind or the animus from below, which is
the reason why it is called rational ; for that it may be
rational it ought to participate in both the natural and
the spiritual. Thus the more it communicates with the
spiritual mind the more eminently rational or the more
and more spiritual this mind becomes ; but the more it
derives from the animus or natural mind the less rational
or more corporeal it is. Accordingly the superior mind
and the animus meet, and, conjoined in the internal sens-
ory, they put forth their common progeny.
This also appears from the various affections ; for while
the rational mind is excited by the animus, as by anger,
revenge, illicit love, and other affections, it does not imme-
diately come down to take part, but it is withheld by a
certain higher and purer mind ; and so it is [reluctantly] led
away by the animus into either commanding those things
which are opposed to it or favouring them with its assent.
This deliberation and pondering could never exist unless
the rational mind were constituted in the midst between
two loves which sometimes oppose. It is therefore like
the beam of the scales turning whichever way the greater
weight draws it. To this mind may be ascribed intellect,
that is, thought, also judgment, choice, and will ; but
intellecT: cannot otherwise be ascribed to the mind than
perception of sensations to the animus : it may be that
that mind is the life itself of the intellect, or that thought
could not exist and subsist without its mind, that is, with-
out its loves and desires which not only excite but vivify
its intellect. The mind is therefore the life of the thoughts,
as the animus is the life of the sensations.
1 88 THE SOUL.
XVL
CONCERNING THE FORMATION AND THE AFFECTIONS
OF THE RATIONAL MIND.
(307.) We have treated of the affections of the animus ;
and before treating of the affections of the rational mind
which is as it were midway and like a centre of influx, we
ought to treat of the affections or loves of the pure or supe-
rior mind. But to treat at once of the loves of the supreme
mind would be to fly from the lowest to the highest, and
from sensible things to those which do not come under our
intellectual comprehension and which do not admit of being
described by adequate terms ; but those things which are
met with in the rational mind fall under the compre-
hension of the intellect because they are ours ; these also
would by no means come under the comprehension of our
intellect unless there were a purer intellect or a sublimer
mind which flowed in, and from which we were able to
view those things which are in the rational mind as if be-
neath.
(308.) But since it has been said above that the ra-
tional mind is intermediate between the pure mind or that
of the soul and the impure inferior mind or that of the
body, that is, the animus, it seems to follow that the ra-
tional mind possesses no affection proper to itself or of
itself; for it is the centre of influxes or that in which are
concentrated two essences ; it cannot be said to be other
than the common essence of the two, or one nature com-
posed of both ; this is also most true ; but this composi-
tion or mixture is an essence by itself whose nature differs
from both according to the mixture ; but whether and in
FORMATION OF THE RATIONAL MIND. 189
what sense it can be called an essence proper — this remains
to be seen hereafter. Some preliminary consideration is,
however, necessary here.
(309.) This is sufficiently clear from experience and from
reflection, that our rational mind desires or is possessed of
desires. Desires cannot exist without affections or loves ;
for what we desire this we love, and what we love we de-
sire according to the degree of the love. These desires in
the rational mind are called cupidities in the animus, which
cannot be given without bodily affections or loves. This
also is clear, that we are able to choose that which is best
and to reject the bad, or that our rational mind is able to
judge freely and to act in accordance with its judgments.
If the loves themselves did not belong to the rational
mind, but only flowed in from elsewhere and forced this
mind to judging and to acting, then nothing of its own
and therefore nothing free could be predicated of the
mind. But this free choice itself demonstrates that the
rational mind is intermediate between the loves which
flow in, and is the umpire in the election of the best.
This also is clear, that there would be no will unless there
belonged to the mind some affections, one of which it
might will rather than another, but there would be either
cupidity or instinct in the place of will, as in brute ani-
mals. For all that is cupidity which is from the animus,
and all that is instinct which flows down from the supe-
rior mind.
(310.) These things clearly indicate that those loves
which are insinuated into the rational mind are so united
that they are distinct as to essence and nature from the
loves of the superior mind and from those of the animus,
and thus that they constitute a certain proper, as it were,
separate mind, but still such an one that as it exists from
both so it subsists through both, and depends upon both,
not indeed equally but just as it bends and inclines itself
more to the one than to the other. To the aforesaid argu-
ments this also may be added, that we never could be
THE SOUL.
blamed for any fault or crime if there were no love existing
in the mind as proper to it or as most emphatically our
own. For we acknowledge nothing as our own and prop-
erly pertaining to us except what exists in our rational
mind, for that mind is the most verily mine \ipsissimum
meuni\ ; other things are mine as far as that mind calls
them its own ; nor does it consider them otherwise than
as its own instruments, by which it is able to be what it is
and to do as it wills ; which is also the reason, why we
say that any one is what he is according to the state of
his mind ; the weak and dull and impotent of mind we
hardly call a man ; but the most intelligent and wise we
call the true man and divine ; thus the proprium of all
that is in him is of the mind.
(311.) But if we regard the matter more deeply and
attempt to explore what is proper to the rational mind
and what is not (for what pertains to the mind and is
in it, this is said to be proper to it, but still it is not there-
fore truly proper as sight is to the eye, which is truly
proper to the internal sensory, since this sees without the
eyes while the eye does not see without the internal sens-
ory), strictly speaking, I see nothing as proper to this
whole internal sensory or human intellectory except that
its mind may bend or turn itself to the superior mind, or
that of the soul, and admit its loves that they may
flow in, or receive them, in what manner shall be told
elsewhere ; or else to the lower mind or that of the body,
that is, of the animus, and permit its loves to flow in, or
receive them ; all other things whatever are not proper
[to this intelle&ory] except as by flowing in in this way.
For the rational mind is as the standard which holds
the balance ; in the human body there is nothing except
soul and body, or nothing except the spiritual and
the natural ; the other things which are intermediate
participate of both, and so far as they participate they,
like the scales, depend upon both. That therefore each
may be held in equilibrium the rational mind is provided
FORMATION OF THE RATIONAL MIND. Ipl
to be the moderator and governor, and thus in this point
solely a6live, but in others passive. It is commonly re-
ceived as a truth, because common experience teaches it
• to every one, that so far as our rational mind admits loves
which flow in from the body and its blood, or from the
world through the gates of the senses, and applies itself
to these, giving and surrendering itself to them, so far it
is removed from the loves of the superior mind or from spir-
itual loves ; and so far as it removes itself from the loves
of the body and the blandishments of the world, so far
it admits the loves of the superior or spiritual mind ; the
spiritual is as it were suffocated by the natural, and the nat-
ural is exterminated by the spiritual. Thus it appears that
there is an internal man which fights with a certain ex-
ternal man, and the mind itself perceives the battle, and
either gives up, conquered, or else carries off the victory.
(313.) Since, therefore, the loves of the superior mind
and the loves of the animus, of themselves and freely, flow
into and flow together in the rational mind, and since it
is the property of this latter only to bend itself in one
direction or the other, we see how that the other things
which are in the rational or the properly human mind
flow thence ; so that it may be said of them that they are
proper to it ; for whatever things flow from that which
is proper or from the will as necessarily constitutive,
these are also proper and derive their name and power
from their source. But let us proceed in order, and by
means of examples.
(i.) The first love, will, and as it were desire, of the
pure mind or soul is that of associating to itself a lower
mind or animus, which it produces or creates from its own
essence and into which it inspires life ; that is, the soul
forms, and indeed out of its own essences, the pure intel-
Ie6lory, whose mind is natural'; this mind is in the pure
intelleftory and in each one most particularly ; the com-
mon essence and life of these particulars is called the ani-
mus, in which, therefore, there is only the natural and
IQ2 THE SOUL.
the bodily but not the spiritual, although it descends from
the spiritual and is created from it. But this love is not
yet that of the rational mind, but that of the pure or
spiritual mind.
(ii.) The spiritual mind, already associated with the
natural mind, now loves and desires nothing except what
is common to both. The spiritual mind loves its own
natural mind, and the natural mind respects and venerates
its own spiritual mind, and yearns with the highest de-
lights that it may depend upon this and may be subject
to this. Hence now flows the first love common to
both, namely, to form the organs and instruments by
which it may so act and operate ; as love and desire give
and take in common, these organs are formed most
conveniently for the nature and the love of each ; for
either mind regards those ends only, and because these
cannot be attained except by organs and instrumental
means, hence these instrumental means are formed with a
view to every end common to both ; thence arises that
corporeal machine which is merely organic, exactly ac-
cording to the image of the operation of either mind.
But neither is this yet the love of the rational mind.
(iii.) This delicate body being formed and put forth
from the maternal egg or womb, at once there succeeds
or is born, as it were, or unfolded from the former,
another love, which is the love that it may become a man
or that it may be furnished with a certain proper mind
which may be called rational ; for man derives his quality
of manhood from his rational mind, since such as that
mind is, such is the man. Then the pure mind or soul
does its part, and the mind of the pure intellectory does
its own, that is, the spiritual mind and the natural mind;
and because each pursues a common cause and desires to
pour into this mind its essence, nature, and life, it follows
that this mind is called rational ; for the rational signifies
the spiritual and the natural together or mutually partici-
pating.
FORMATION OF THE RATIONAL MIND. 193
(iv.) He who loves an end loves also the means con-
ducing to that end. Each mind provides the means
when it shapes the organs whereby to attain its end.
Therefore common to both is the first mediate love
or love of the means, which is that the organs may
perceive, as for instance that the ear may hear and the
eye see, or the common sensory or the brain perceive
those things which are heard and seen. For this is the
first way or first means of forming the rational mind and
informing it. Whatever there is harmonious this is pleas-
ing, this gladdens the animus ; and whatever is inharmo-
nious is unpleasant and grieves the animus. So the animus
is now first excited, and so concurs as if of itself in pro-
ducing this rational mind. Still the rational mind is not
as yet, any more than in its cradle or in its first infancy,
for it only begins to be in that it is able to bend and turn
its sensorial organs and to imbibe objects as they flow
in. This is the one thing, as said above, that is proper to
it, and to which it is incited by the mind, which is affected
pleasantly, joyously, and delightfully by harmonies. Now
its golden age begins, innocent, smiling, because the ani-
mus has not yet risen up against the mind, but loves it
inmostly; for the mind is in the animus itself, and both
conspire to one end, and the animus is thus far ignorant
of what the world outside is.
(v.) This common love progresses always farther and
grows in progressing ; already material ideas are insinuated
in the common sensory, and in the internal sensory imma-
terial ideas or first principles of the intellect, not from any
proper love of the rational mind but from the love common
to both the animus and the spiritual mind ; for the rational
mind itself is thus far ignorant whence such love comes,
as it flows in as much from the mind as from the animus.
The mind desires the end, the animus the effect, and it is
ignorant of the end of the soul, but it is excited by the
pleasure which flows from the harmony of the internal and
external sensations. The rational mind itself does not as
194 THE SOUL.
yet contribute anything more from itself than that it
applies itself, turns and attends to what flows in from
both sources ; for when it attends, its attention only is re-
quired.
(vi.) The ideas of the memory and the imagination
being thus increased, man begins to understand or to
perceive something beyond, or to draw some essence or
higher sense from words, which are all material ideas.
When the intellect begins to form it also thinks. And
thus there is further progress and at once from the things
of thought into the will, not indeed from any intellect
but from the love of a certain pleasure which is insinuated
by the senses into the animus and by the animus into this
intellect.
(vii.) These delights of the animus which are communi-
cated to the rational mind appear as though they were
in the mind and were felt therein ; but they are outside
of this mind itself, for whatever appears delightful, pleas-
ureable, and joyous to the animus, appears and is called
good in the rational mind, but contrary things evil ; the
goods and evils themselves are all those objects of love,
or those things by which the animus is affected. Then
the rational mind, curious to know whether this be good
or evil which appears pleasant and loveable, is therefore
carried on, by a kind of desire, to wishing to find out
whether it be a true good or a false good, that is, an evil,
as also whether it be a real evil or an apparent evil. For
the knowledge of the true signifies nothing in itself without
the good, since what is true ought to regard the good as
its subject. The rational mind does not stand still here,
for it cannot be persuaded whether a thing be truly good
unless it finds out the subject of the good, for there is no
good without its subject. This subject at first appears,
but to know whether it be truly good it is necessary to
inquire as to the quality of this subject, what are its attri-
butes, accidents, and adjuncts ; and at length, these being
explored, it may be persuaded whether this good be truly
FORMATION OF THE RATIONAL MIND. 195
good or not. Thus the rational mind proceeds in particu-
lars that it may explore the nature of things placed before
it by which it seems to be affected. Such appears to be
the intellect of the rational mind, the which if we in-
wardly examine we shall clearly perceive that all these
[affections] are not proper to the intellect, but that there
flows in from above some love of knowing the quality of
all those things which flow in from beneath by way of
the senses and the animus ; so that that superior mind
may call our rational mind into its service in order to in-
form itself of the things obvious to the senses, lest by
chance it be deceived by appearance ; for the superior
mind well knows how innumerable are the fallacies of
things. This is the reason why we are naturally carried
away by a certain desire of knowing not only the present
but also future things, and not only what is apparent but
also what is hidden. For this curiosity is called inborn,
and it is the first mover in the perfecting of our intellect,
or it is itself the love of communicating its knowledge to
that mind which is to be instructed. In these things that
mind does no other action from itself except to turn its
rational view to the higher mind or to the soul. Other
things spontaneously flow in, the very love exciting the
desire of knowing ; but from that moment in which the
mind applies itself all this intellect is predicated of the
mind as belonging to it. Indeed the faculty not only of
perceiving but of thinking and judging becomes as it were
its own, because it is now acquired ; but while it is being
acquired the mind itself is as though passive, only turning
itself to this or that side.
(viii.) In the formation of the human intellect there
occur four ages, hardly otherwise than in the great world
or the macrocosm ; the first or golden age is when the
animus is entirely subject to its mind, for then it cannot
be called the animus but the lower or natural mind ; the
next or silver age is when the animus is not subject to
the mind but reigns with that in equal right. The third
196 THE SOUL.
or brazen age is when the animus begins to fight with its
mind and endeavours to cast this down from her throne ;
the fourth or iron age is when the animus subjects to it-
self the higher mind and makes it her handmaid. These
things are perceived in our rational mind from those very
loves which rule and command ; if they are of the body
and of the animus, or of the world, it is a proof that the
spiritual loves are driven from their thrones and extin-
guished ; but when the spiritual loves reign the bodily loves
yield and as it were become cold, and the lusts of the body
are said to be dead. For so far as the things of the body
live those of the spirit vanish away, and vice versa.
(ix.) But a state of integrity would be that wherein
the spiritual loves alone reign ; then there would not be
any rational mind, but the spiritual mind alone, for there
would be no confluence of loves. Consequently in order to
be corporeal we can not easily subsist in that state ; it
would be superhuman and miraculous. But still it is our
better life when superior and inferior loves reign equally,
and the rational mind is elevated above its body, and is so
instructed from itself concerning what it encounters that
it has need of no science as a teacher. We are always
inclining to lower things ; thus we are drawn away from
this equilibrium, that is, this rationality itself; but if we
remained infants our rational mind would be nothing, or,
if something, still not rational, but spiritual.
(314.) But let us return to the affections or the loves,
and inquire whether there are any in the rational mind
which may be properly called its own. Yet we cannot
make this inquiry without first examining all those desires
which appear to be in this mind ; from these then we
shall be able to form a conclusion.
The Loves and Affections of the Mind in general.
(315.) In our rational mind loves perpetually reign, nor
would there be any mind without loves, as there would
AFFECTIONS OF THE RATIONAL MIND. 197
be no animus without affections. For the loves are of the
mind as affections are of the animus. Those very objects
with which the mind is affected are called its loves. The
rational mind also possesses intellect, and the intellect is
something separate from mind, just as sensation or per-
ception is separate from the animus ; but still there can
be no intellect without mind, that is, without objects which
are loved, or without loves. If only we observe the state
of our mind, this appears clearly, that some love is ex-
cited by the first apperception or intellection. This love
first excited is the first, the last, the middle, the all, in
the thought ; without the love the thought could never
exist. This also is known from the desires, from the will,
from ends of the mind ; unless there were love there would
be no desire, for we desire what we love. The love itself
is in the will, which would become torpid or as nothing
without love. The end itself is that subject or that object
of love ; therefore the love is the first, the middle and the
last in our rational mind. But the loves are innumerable,
and the very means of the ends are loves because they are
regarded as united with ends or as continued into them.
(316.) The mind is therefore the soul itself, or the life
itself, of the intellect. The intellect may be compared
with the body of that soul. Such is their conjunction that
if the mind or its loves recede the intellect is nothing, or
like a lifeless body. And the love without the intellect
can be described as a soul without a body. Therefore a
certain love is in our rational mind before the intellect,
and the intellect is formed from the mind as a body from
its soul, in which it is first and last, or the whole.
(317.) But it is asked whether these loves which are
understood to be in the rational mind are its own, or
whether they come from elsewhere. They appear indeed
as if they were its own ; but lest we should be carried away
by the appearance only we ought to examine some of
these loves, and afterwards the other affections which ap-
pear to be in the mind.
198 THE SOUL.
The love of Understanding and of being Wise.
(318.) In the earliest infancy there does not appear tc
be any love of being wise in our rational mind ; the reason
is that we are still unconscious of that love, or [of know-
ing] by reflection upon phenomena what may be in them
as a principle ; then, too, because it is a certain universal
love not yet limited or determined to the love of a par-
ticular knowledge ; that nevertheless this love is there we
may conclude as certain from the very effect of it, for
without such a love we should never be able to inform
our mind or furnish it with any intellect, which neverthe-
less is perpetual from a certain active principle or love.
What we desire to see, to hear, to retain in memory, to
imagine, to think, this in our innocent state comes from
an implanted love of understanding and being wise ; those
delights which are also in the senses themselves could
not be delights without this universal internal principle.
But in this period of life the love of understanding is quite
general and undetermined, and so is the pure love of
being wise without any object in which there is something
loveable, on account of which especially we desire intelli-
gence. But in adult age we direct this universal love
to a single kind of knowledge which we love more than
others, as to the art of war, nautical science, politics,
mathematics, science of civil law, theology, and so forth.
As age still advances we direct this love to some species
or part of a more universal science. In this state we love
only the knowledges which go to perfect this chosen one,
and these so far as they have an affinity with it. Hence
it appears that there is some love in our mind which is
to become rational, and this from itself or naturally, which
is first a universal love of all, then in the course of time,
a particular love. For if there were not in infancy itself the
universal love, we would be entirely unable to furnish the
mind with any intellect unless there were a special deter-
mination to some particular knowledge. This may be
AFFECTIONS OF THE RATIONAL MIND. 199
compared with the appetite for eating. Before taste and
relish there is in the embryo and infants the love of eat-
ing, nor is it affected with any taste until time has elapsed ;
wherefore it is nourished with milk which is almost taste-
less ; but in the course of time the appetite is awakened
through the delights of taste. This love cannot be said
to be properly of the rational mind, because it is in us be-
fore the formation of the intellect, and, the intellect being
formed, it is not known to be in that except by reflecting
on its effects. Therefore it is infused from the superior
mind and nourished by delights of the animus, and so ex-
cited [into consciousness].
The love of Knowing Hidden Things, and Admiration.
(319.) That there is an inborn love of being wise we
perceive from the love familiar to every one, that of
knowing hidden things ; for this love it is which forms
our whole intellect. For every thing which has been im-
pressed on the memory of the infant and child were
before that time hidden ; as soon as they are impressed
[the child] is seized with the desire of knowing what still
lies hidden in that which is known, that is, its qualities
and many other things. This love carries us into those
sciences by which we are persuaded we shall arrive at the
knowledge of what is hidden ; the whole learned world
is carried away into physical experiments in order that
from these we may know or penetrate into the hidden
things of nature. The ancient philosophers were all seized
with this love, but with them it was the love of penetrat-
ing into the hidden things of nature a priori, or by
principles and a rational philosophy ; but those of our
day wish to penetrate a posteriori, or from experiment ;
they both have the same love, for they concur in this
end.
Who does not desire to behold nature in her inmosts
and unveiled ? Who does not desire to know what the
200 THE SOUL.
soul is, where it resides, what it will be after death, what
is the highest good? Who would not like to know the
interior things of another's mind, the secrets of his com-
panions, of society, of kingdoms ; who is not delighted
when he contemplates with the telescope the moon, a
planet and its satellites, while he wishes he might know
whether there are inhabitants there, and how in this great
vortex they pursue their daily and annual motions ? Who
does not love with the microscope to detect the least
things in nature, and the inse6ls invisible to the eye,
besides infinite other things ; all of which indicates that
there is implanted in the human mind such a love, which
also is the principle of becoming wise and the efficient
cause of the formation of our intellect. And because it is
in us before this formation [of the intellect], nor do we
perceive that it is there except by judging from its effects,
it follows that it flows in from a certain higher mind in
us to which it pertains universally to know and under-
stand all things, and to wish to communicate this its own
to some lower mind, by which it may make itself present
to the body.
(320.) Admiration is the affection of every perfection
relatively to its subject. For we wonder at wisdom in a
boy but not in an old man, at intellect in an insane per-
son, at something analogous to bravery in the brute ani-
mal. So long therefore as we have no knowledge or only
a slight knowledge of an object, then we wonder at its
perfection however slight ; thus we wonder at the won-
derful things in nature, which are infinite, at its hidden
forms, and the like. Wherefore children wonder at all
things because to them they are hidden. Wherefore this
wonder coincides with the love of knowing hidden things ;
for what we wonder at is deeply imprinted on our memory.
We wonder that nature is so admirable in her kingdoms ;
but if we knew what she herself is, and that she is most
perfect, and able only to produce such things as these,
we would then cease to wonder.
AFFECTIONS OF THE RATIONAL MIND. 2OI
We wonder at the miracles of God and the proofs of
His providence, because we do not comprehend that He
is infinite and His perfection infinite ; if we should per-
ceive this we would be amazed at nothing, but only vene-
rate and adore, in thinking that what we comprehend in
mind are the least things and that there are infinite things
which surpass the intellect. But He is the most hidden
and the never-explorable to any mind, in order that He
may be God, whom from the universe and from the won-
derful things of nature we may admire and adore. What
would God be. if He were not inscrutable ?
The love of Foreknowing the Future.
(321.) The love of foreknowing the future concurs, in
the third place, with the love of knowing hidden things ;
for we love to know the future because it is hidden, and
because we love we desire it ; and the difference is only
between the things simultaneously hidden and those suc-
cessively hidden ; for what are now present are to be
successively brought about. Therefore when we know
these things we conceive of them as present and now
existing, for all past things were once future ; therefore
also this love declares that there is something implanted
in our mind which is the active principle in the forming
of our intellect. This love also so reigns in every human
mind that it is present in its every desire of ends ; for
when we desire any end and some impossibilities stand in
the way, we desire at once to know the final event, whence
comes hope ; wherefore in every one in whom there is
hope there is the love of the future which we desire to
know. As the result of this love of human minds, many
arts have been thought out, as physiognomy, geomancy,
Pythagorean arithmetic, judiciary astrology ; in former
times auspices, the consultations of oracles, divinations,
interpretations of dreams, and many other similar things.
Even the innumerable events of the past, as the fates and
202 THE SOUL.
histories of kings and empires, do not so delight the mind
as does that one new thing which we desire to know.
Such as the love of self is so is the love of knowing one's
own happy destinies, which even to children is most
pleasurable ; as the love of country is great, so great is
the delight of knowing of its future posperity. This love
seems to be in the mind, but still not proper to the mind,
for the same reason given above regarding the love of
knowing hidden things ; for one and the same love is the
sign that there is such a knowledge in the soul, and that
from this knowledge come the presages of mind and the
coming true of dreams.
The love of Truths and Principles.
(322.) The intellect of our rational mind could not be
informed and become intellect without the love of truths,
for it needs to have as many truths as ideas. From these,
analytically examined and compared, new truth arises,
and fro'm this and others similar still further new truths,
until at length we arrive at those universal truths which
belong to the soul and the pure intelle<5lory. The most
particular truths, and those which are first introduced, are
those material truths we imbibe by means of the senses,
all of which the mind at first accepts as they appear, as so
many truths ; from these it arranges its rational analysis,
and forms its intellect. As many conclusions as the mind
forms, therefore, so many principles it assumes, provided
it has faith in the premises and trusts in the correct-
ness of its conclusions. These principles are the very
truths which are in the rational mind as though they
were its own ; still they cannot be called pure truths but
rather probabilities, for they are exceedingly inflated with
hidden qualities, and viewed in themselves are opinions
and hypotheses, which the mind will perceive if it in-
wardly considers them, and by comparing them with
others draws any conclusion from them as true from ex-
AFFECTIONS OF THE RATIONAL MIND. 203
periment. These assumed truths are acknowledged all
the more as truths in the degree that they are capable of
being rendered more probable and likely, or so adorned
and veiled that their internal form does not appear ; for
we judge very much from the surface and external form
regarding the internal, as we judge of the virtue of a
virgin from her beauty. That accordingly there is an
inborn love of establishing principles and acknowledging
these as truths, or what is equivalent, of forming the in-
teile6l, has been shown above. Here chiefly we shall
treat of the love of principles, thus regarded as truths [///
veritates spe£latorum\.
(323.) That it is natural to love truths may be proved
from the order itself which is in the forms and harmonies
of nature, the truth itself in intellectual things corre-
sponding to order in natural things. And because order
in itself, like harmony, affects the common sensory pleas-
antly and the animus gladly, so do truths affect the in-
tellectual mind. Hence as order presupposes harmony,
so does truth presuppose some love or some good from
which we may predicate its being truly good or truly bad.
It follows from common experience that human minds
love truths so far as these establish the idea of good ; for
there are good things which are good by nature, and
those which are apparently good, and those which are
not good but bad, which nevertheless affect the mind as
good. Thus one who is desirous of revenge finds his de-
lights and his good in cruelty itself, and so long as he is
carried away with this love, he loves all things which sus-
tain it, and hates every thing which opposes. He often
understands the truths which oppose such an animus, but
he hates them, and also those who wish by means of truths
to influence his mind. He also who is avaricious and longs
for the goods of others often acknowledges the truths
which show this to be contrary to the order of nature,
but he hates these very truths, and loves all those proba-
bilities which favour and foster his idea of good. Crimi-
204 THE SOUL.
nails often talk most wisely, yea, even make harangues,
and by a chain of truths condemn their very crimes, while
still in their own minds they hate these truths they are
proclaiming. Thus there are those who love truths and
those who hold them in hatred, or love those things which
are contrary to the truth, for hatred is love of the con-
trary. Likewise the rational mind loves truths from an
innate love, without which it would never be able to per-
fect its intellect so as to be possessed of judgment. But
in place of truths it substitutes principles, which are so
many probabilities acknowledged as truths. To love these
principles or these probabilities is to exercise the same
love as that by which truths are embraced. That this
ardour exists in the higher mind or the soul, all of whose
ideas are truths which the soul either loves or hates, ap-
pears from the effect of a similar love in the rational mind,
and also from the origin of ambition and of anger, which
are so many heats and fires in the soul roused in defense
of these truths. For there are those who are by nature
tenacious of opinion, even in their childhood resembling
old age ; since the aged believe their principles to be all
truths. It is not so with youths who are of progressive
intellect and not lovers of self.
The love of Good and of Evil.
(324.) Between the love of the true and the love of
the good there is the difference as between intelligence
and wisdom, for truths are the objects of the intellect, but
goodnesses those of wisdom ; but no intellect is without
wisdom because there is none without the love of some
good. Intellect is acquired through the love of under-
standing truths ; wisdom is not acquired, because the good
itself is that beloved essence which flows in and insinu-
ates itself of itself; but the intellect is required in order
that we may understand whether it be the truly good or
the apparently good, or that which is not good but only
AFFECTIONS OF THE RATIONAL MIND. 205
a false good. The truly good is in itself good ; the ap-
parently good is good in itself so far as it so appears ; the
false good is evil because contrary to the true good. Thus
the true and the good exist both united and separate,
since we are able to love the evil and to hate the good,
and yet we are gifted with intellect to be able to under-
stand the true and the false, or to understand that a
a thing is not good although we undertake* it; this is
called intellective wisdom, scientific and external. Wis-
dom itself cannot exist without being conjoined with love,
and because all love is inborn, we cannot be wise of our-
selves, but from the influx of the love of the truly good,
and in order that this may flow in the liberty is given us
of inclining our mind to this or that side. Therefore veri-
ties constitute the intellett which is greater in the degree
that our principles approach the truths themselves and
free themselves from the shadow of probabilities. In order
that our rational mind may be as intelligent as possible, it
is necessary that it know universal truths just as the pure
intelle6lory and the soul know these from themselves, to
whose perfections the rational mind strives to approxi-
mate.
But goodnesses constitute wisdom. To love wisdom is
to love the intelligence which reveals the nature of good-
nesses, and to love the truly good itself is to be wise.
Wherefore our mind always aspires to the highest good,
about which there is much dispute, since every one as-
sumes the probable good to be the highest good.
Science is not intelligence nor wisdom, but is the me-
diate or instrumental cause of intelligence ; wherefore all
science is acquired either through one's own experience
of the senses, or through the observation and explor-
ation of one's own mind, or by the experience of others.
Where there is natural intelligence there is also science,
* We have preferred here the reading adimvs as appears in the manuscript, ac-
cording to Tafel, although he substitutes odimus therefor. [Tr.
206 THE SOUL.
for one presupposes the other ; but science does not then
appear as anything contingent but as a necessity, and
because it is natural for it to know this. Science is chiefly
concerned with the objects of goodness.
Knowledge \cognitio\ on the other hand is the mediate
cause whereby science is obtained, whence are doctrines
and instructions \disciplinae\.
(325.) The rational mind never loves the good of it-
self, but judges concerning the evil and the good ; and
when it embraces one in preference to the other it is said
to love it, because it admits the one and excludes the
other. The mind admits whatever is pleasant, delightful,
soothing to the animus and to the senses, or what con-
stitutes the loves of its animus. It causes that these flow
into the mind ; and when it is occupied with their ideas
and expels the contrary, then the mind is said to love
because it calls this good ; still its loves are not properly
its own, but flow in. Likewise when it excludes the
affections of its animus, and thus admits the higher loves,
then it calls these goods, and is said to love these because
it is wholly occupied with their idea. Thus the rational
mind is possessed by inflowing loves, since it is lacking
in its own love, but they are called its own because they
flow in and possess its idea.
Affirmative and Negative.
(326.) That the mind is able to affirm and deny
clearly indicates that it is placed between two loves
which influence it in opposite directions, and that it is able
to choose the one and reject the other, or that this [lib-
erty] is the only thing proper to the mind ; without this
property the mind could not exist, still less subsist.
Throughout the whole body there is nothing else ca-
pable of affirming and denying. Our animus cannot do
this of itself, because it is affected according to that
harmony which is in an object and agrees with its own
AFFECTIONS OF THE RATIONAL MIND. 2O/
nature. The eye can neither affirm nor deny, but is
affected by the harmony of object, and the mixture of
colors, among which there is a natural order as in the
rainbow. The intellectory itself and the soul can not
affirm or deny, but are gratefully affected by those things
which are perfect in themselves, and unpleasantly by im-
perfect things, always however according to the nature of
the soul itself. Thus the soul can only love this and hate
that, but to affirm and to deny is not in its power, this
faculty belonging solely of the rational mind. The truths
themselves of the soul are inborn ; but its state either loves
these truths in themselves or hates them, so that it is
impossible to love now what it before hated ; but that it
assumes this state is possible only in this life, and thus
only by means of the rational mind, which is able to af-
firm and deny and to choose the one rather than the
other.
(327.) In order, therefore, that there may be in the
rational mind a free choice and a will, and thus the faculty
of affirming or denying, there are no loves given to it as
properly its own. For if it possessed its proper and nat-
ural loves, then its affirmative and negative faculty would
altogether cease. But that there seem to be innate loves,
such as the love of the honourable, the seeds of which
seem to be deposited in the mind, and that there are in-
clinations to this love, this does not prove that these
natural loves belong to the mind, but that the mind
possesses a disposition only to receive these loves rather
than others, to more easily change its states in this direc-
tion than otherwise, or to be more easily in these ideas
than in others ; in a word, that it wishes rather to admit
these loves than others. This is, nevertheless, not a
proof that love is inborn and proper to the mind itself.
208 THE SOUL.
Conscience.
(328.) A good conscience or a bad conscience seems
to be a proper affe6lion of the rational mind, but whether
it be so will appear from an examination into its origin.
Conscience itself depends primarily on the determination
of the truly good. Whatever we believe to be the truly
good when we nevertheless a6l in a manner contrary to
it excites a bad conscience, while the opposite course
produces a good conscience. Thus our conscience depends
upon our principles, which we believe to be so many veri-
ties; and so the good conscience of one person may be
the bad conscience of another, from one and the same
cause. The good conscience of the criminal is the bad
conscience of the honourable man.
The Devil acts against his conscience if he does not
do evil, although he knows that this is contrary to spirit-
ual truths. The conscience very plainly declares that our
rational mind is midway between the higher and lower
loves. A good conscience corresponds to gladness in the
animus, and a bad conscience to sadness ; wherefore also
gladness and sadness flow by correspondence into the
mind and excite its conscience. The states of the soul,
also, and its loves contribute much to the state of con-
science in the rational mind. The soul which loves truths,
when its love reigns in the rational mind, is secretly
pained by those things which oppose this love ; that is,
it is a true conscience. But if the soul hates spiritual
truths and becomes diabolical, then the mind is distressed
by these truly good things themselves when it is led by
them ; therefore conscience comes from the animus and
the superior mind, and is such that hardly any one may
know its quality, since in order that any one may judge
of the truth of one's conscience, he ought indeed to know
what the truly good is, of what quality is the person's
mind and his animus ; which knowledge belongs to God
alone. The conscience itself judges every one.
AFFECTIONS OF THE RATIONAL MIND. 209
The Highest Good and Highest Truth.
(329.) This is undoubted, that there is a good in itself
and a principle of this good, that it is principally good
itself and love itself. And if there is a good in itself it is
necessary that all those things which flow from that good
and which tend toward that good be good in themselves.
But whatever things tend out of the course and still more
what are contrary to this good and tend not toward it,
these are evil in themselves and in so far evil as they are
removed from that good. Hence it is manifest that
nothing but God alone can be the good itself, who is the
fount of every good, that is, of every perfect thing. But
things evil and imperfect may appear in our minds as
good and perfect, and thus persuade us to embrace them.
Still in the purer and more elevated mind this is not why
we embrace things which we acknowledge to be evil, but
evil things are embraced because they are soothing and
agreeable to the state of our mind ; then also they are
sometimes called necessary evils.
From this it now appears that every one embraces
and calls that the highest good which agrees with the
state of his mind. Thus to the revengeful vengeance is
the highest good, to the miser wealth, and so with other
lusts. In a word, each one places the highest good in a
good conscience ; but it is to be observed of what sort
the good is, whether the truly good or the falsely good.
Thus universal truths are to be investigated and our minds
to be instructed by these.
(330.) The highest good presupposes also a highest
truth, and whatever affirms this highest good is itself the
highest truth, and other things are false. But true things
are also evil, hence the highest truth means that which
expresses the nature itself of anything, what it is in itself,
thus both the nature of the good and of the evil.
(331.) The good in the mind signifies the perfect in
nature, wherefore these mutually correspond. Perfections
210 THE SOUL.
themselves are superior and inferior; thus the highest
good differs in itself or is divided according to the sub-
jects themselves • which admit that good. The highest
good of the body is the pleasure which most affects the
body. The highest good of the animus is that love which
most affects it. These goods are in themselves supremely
good in respect to the state of body and of the animus,
which receive and are affected by them. Similar is the
case with the mind, the soul, and the pure intellectory.
The highest good of the rational mind is that which it
most joyfully admits and chiefly indulges, or to which its
ideas or changes of state incline. All these things are
highest goods in themselves so far as they tend to the
highest good in itself and regard this, that is, so far as
they are in connection, or united by love, with the highest
good.
(332.) Every faculty and mind, whether superior, in-
ferior, or mediate, aspires to the highest good from an
implanted love ; nevertheless it can never arrive at that
degree of good in which is the superior mind, since there is
something of the infinite in the superior mind to which
the inferior mind can never attain unless by being itself
dissolved or destroyed. The highest of the lower mind
can hardly be called the least of the higher mind. We can
thus see that our rational mind is unable to think what
will be the happiness or the unhappiness of its soul ; and if
it cannot think this, neither can it express it. The same
is true of the highest truths. Our mind may progress
indefinitely and diffuse its intellect, and yet never arrive
at pure truth such as is in the soul, unless it be dissolved
and destroyed. Thus we cannot penetrate into the nature
of the pure intelligence or the intelligence of the soul.
A limit is accordingly placed to the advancement of our
intellect, or beyond which it cannot go ; but still there
is given to it a field that it may be extended indefinitely,
and the love to so extend itself is naturally in it. But
if it wishes to be elevated above itself or to attain to things
AFFECTIONS OF THE RATIONAL MIND. 211
higher than itself, then it either perishes and is dissolved
or else it is reduced into such a state that it can never
again emulate such a condition, and so it sins against the
love and the law of order. Still such a love as this is
innate in our minds, and we receive it as it were heredi-
tarily from Adam. In a word, All that which is good and
true in itself is Divine; all that which is evil and false
in itself is diabolical ; all that which is good and true in
appearance and semblance is human; thus the just, the
sincere, the honourable, virtue, etc., etc.
The love of Virtues and of Vices ; the Honourable ; the
Decorous.
(333-) The honourable is the common quality of all
virtues, for all the virtues taken together constitute the
honourable. Thus the honourable1 is the form whose es-
sential determinations are the virtues in particular. Each
virtue is a form whose essential determinations are the
parts of that virtue. But decorum is the external form of
the virtues; for that the virtues may appear, an external
is required from which we may judge regarding the hon-
ourable in it and its parts. This is why the decorous can
be varied in so many ways. Every form may be varied
externally in a thousand ways, and also the states of the
internal form may be varied, the external form remaining.
This is our political art, to persuade regarding internal
things those minds which judge from external things.
(334.) The dishonourable, on the contrary, is a form
whose essential determinations are vices ; and every vice
is a form whose essential determinations are parts of that
vice. The indecorous is the external form, for every in-
ternal form has its external form, which is called the figure
and which corresponds naturally to the internal form.
(335.) There is nothing which is a virtue in itself ex-
cept the good in itself. But in order that virtue may exist
and pass for such there must precede an affirmative and
212 THE SOUL.
negative, a rational intuition that the good is to be chosen ;
there must be a will and an end which we regard as good.
These faculties are not formed except in the rational
mind ; hence no moral virtue proceeds from other than the
rational mind. If an inanimate machine should extend
money to some poor person it could not be called a virtue ;
if any one benefits another without knowing what he
does, or from an opposite intention, or of necessity, this
is not called a virtue. If an insane man renders service
to society, this is not a virtue, but a good. Therefore
whatever is natural and necessary loses the name of vir-
tue. Thus all virtues are of the mind only. Likewise in
respe6l to vices. There is no vice which in itself is vice ;
only the evil is evil in itself ; the mind itself is what causes
that the morally vicious exists. Thus all morality, like all
vice, is of the rational mind alone.
(336.) What accordingly the virtues are and what are
vices I have set forth above, when treating of the affec-
tions of the animus, for instance, of ambition, love of self,
love of country, revenge, anger, avarice, and other traits.
All these are either goods or evils in themselves ; but still
they are not called virtues or vices except so far as they
proceed from the rational mind. Accordingly as the mind
is the more instructed and the intellect greater the
greater is the virtue or the vice which flows thence. Thus
the love of self above all others is an evil in itself, and if
such be in the mind it is a vice ; while the love of the
many or of society above self is good in itself, but is not
called a virtue except in the rational mind. Virtue ac-
cordingly depends upon the state of the rational mind,
so far as this regards the good which is the real good, or
the not truly good which is the evil. When the mind
does not know whether it be the truly good or the truly
evil it is held in suspense and its conscience is said to be
doubtful. In this state it ought to do nothing, because
such action would be neither good nor bad, and thus not
rational, but brutal and irrational, or like that of an in-
AFFECTIONS OF THE RATIONAL MIND. 213
animate machine. Therefore as the mind judges concern-
ing goods so it judges concerning virtues and vices.
(337.) It is therefore the rational mind which qualifies
all those affections which are ascribed to the animus and
to the body; these are all what they are by virtue of
their proceeding from the rational mind. Wherefore it is
unnecessary to treat of them particularly here, since they
all insinuate themselves into the loves and goods of the
[rational] mind, and this by its will determines them into
act. This is the reason why nothing which flows into the
rational mind but only that which flows from it can be
called a virtue or a vice ; and the greater a virtue is the
more does that which flows in under the form of good
persuade the mind that it is such a virtue, when neverthe-
less it may be a vice.
(338.) The question now arises whether any love of
virtues or of vices belongs naturally to the rational mind.
It is proved by experience that the seeds of honour are
sown in the minds of some or that there are inclinations
to what is honourable, and so the reverse ; but whatever
there is from nature in any mind, which without cultiva-
tion is no mind or which must be formed in order to be
rational, and which possesses nothing from itself or nothing
but that which is acquired, it would seem that the love
of virtues is not a love proper to the rational mind, but
rather that it belongs to the superior mind which flows
in and constitutes this its nature. This takes place if the
love of good flows in ; and this good is called virtue when
the mind rationally observes that it agrees with the na-
ture of good. Thus we cannot say that the love of virtue
is proper to the rational mind, but that the soul from
which that love flows is good, or also that the mind is
naturally such that it inclines to receive these rather than
other loves ; thus its inclination is only a faculty of bend-
ing itself to the reception of this or that love.
(339.) But in so far as the rational mind applies itself
214 THE SOUL.
to either side, it is also receptive of the truly good and
of its love, and it becomes conscious of this good, and from
this love flowing in it wishes and desires its aftual attain-
ment ; so far therefore the love of virtues and of vices
may be predicated of the rational mind, for by this faculty
it appropriates to itself as its own these goods or evils.
ANIMUS, MIND, SPIRIT. 21$
XVII.
CONCLUSION AS TO WHAT THE ANIMUS is, WHAT THE
SPIRITUAL MIND, AND WHAT THE RATIONAL
MIND.
(340.) The animus is a form whose essential determin-
ations are all those affections which flow in from the body
and from the world through the gateway of the senses.
In each affection there is present as it were a special
animus whose essential determinations are all those affec-
tions which are parts of this affection, and so on. Such
an animus is our peculiar disposition or genius, wherefore
we speak of indulging our disposition or animus, and by
the ancients every genius or disposition was adored and
worshipped as a god, and over them all presided a univers-
al god ; hence Jupiter, Apollo, Venus, Mars, and the rest,
and other specific deities belonging to these. In sacred
and common language all those affections of the animus
which come from the body are said to come from the
heart, as when we say "With the whole heart," or " With
the whole soul," or in using the words pitiful \_misericor s~\y
stupid \excor s\, insane \yecor s\ and so on, which terms
all have reference to the blood.
The spiritual mind is the form whose essential deter-
minations are all those loves which flow in from above or
from God, through His Spirit by means of the Word, and
from heaven and the celestial society of souls.
(341.) This mind is properly called the spirit, whose
subject is the soul ; thus the soul is indeed called spirit,
but more properly would be termed spiritual.
(342.) The rational mind is the form whose essential
2l6 THE SOUL.
determinations are all those loves which flow-in both
from the spiritual mind and from the animus. These be-
come mingled and are called rational. They are not the
property of the rational mind, for they do not remain if
the spiritual mind or the animus withdraws them. But
properly speaking the rational mind is the form whose es-
sential determinations are all virtues and vices. For it is
its property to be conscious of the good and the evil, thus
to choose those things which are good and to reject the
evil, and that which goes forth from the rational mind is
called a virtue or a vice. In every virtue and vice a ra-
tional mind is present whose essential determinations are
all the parts of that virtue or of that vice.
(343.) I have also mentioned a certain mind higher
than the natural, which clearly is in the pure intellect -
ory; but this mind is the animus itself, since the ani-
mus is something universal and the mind of each intel-
Ie6lory is something particular, for in order that the uni-
versal exist there must be the particulars from which it
may exist and subsist.
That the Rational Mind is that which is properly called
Man.
(344.) The external shape is not what makes man, for
the ape is human in face and still is an ape, and wax can
be moulded into the human form and still be wax, while
yet the likeness of man. Neither is it the external form
of the body which constitutes the man. The brute ani-
mals enjoy similar members and viscera and a similar
structure as do even the more imperfe6l animals like the
inse6ls. Speech does not make man, for the parrot talks
and still is not a man. The animus is not the man, for
the brutes enjoy a similar animus and are affe<5led as man
is by the loves of their body and of their world.
(345.) But that which enjoys a rational mind, in namely
that it can think, judge, freely choose and will, that crea-
ANIMUS, MIND, SPIRIT. 2 1/
ture is man. Also a man is esteemed as such by all
according to his rational mind. If he only indulges his
animus and his natural disposition, if he is stupid and
dull, he is called a brute, an animal, and not recognized
as man except as having still something human which
enables him to think. The greater the intellect or the
more elevated the rational mind so much the greater is
the man. If it excels all others it is declared to be su-
perhuman and divine, and something which is above
man.
(346.) We also in ourselves recognize that only as our
own which we mentally possess, for every thing in the
whole system is qualified by the mind ; wherefore all
loves, as well superior as inferior, flow in and flow
together into the rational mind as into its centre, and
from this they flow forth again. Thus the beginning of
all actions, and the end of all sensations, or the concen-
tration of the whole, is in the mind. Wherefore all other
things which are without the mind are regarded as its
instruments and organs, which the mind neither knows
nor cares to know as to what they are, provided only
they serve it as its slaves. It even seems as if God thus
held in contempt these natural things themselves, and
reduced them into so many instruments, since He has
not revealed to us their nature, or how the mind acts by
means of them, but has only given them and surrounded
the mind with them, in order that they may stand ready
and obedient for every effect by which the mind wishes
to promote its end.
(347.) We only love that which is pleasing to this
same rational mind as if to that which is proper to our-
selves, for every one wishes to appear such as he is by
virtue of his mind ; even if it be through the orna-
ments of the body, still the desire is that these may show
the quality of the mind. Thus we feel a hatred and often
are carried away into anger toward that which injures
218 THE SOUL.
this mind ; and what we fear for the body is lest the mind
be deprived of its instruments and powers of afting.
(348.) In the rational mind there is the face of the
soul just as in the body is the face and likeness of the
animus. The rational mind may thus be called the body
of the soul, because it is formed into an image of its
operations.
(349.) This mind indicates what the soul is. If the
soul be not spiritual and immortal by no means can such
a mind be formed in which the spiritual and natural are
conjoined. Wherefore since there are in the mind both
the natural and the spiritual, the mind possesses as in
a certain centre of confluences whatever the man pos-
sesses ; wherefore the rational man is what is called
man. When this mind is destroyed the man perishes.
He then is a spirit, because the soul alone then lives.
(350.) This is the reason why man may be called in-
ternal and external. That spiritual [essence] which flows
into the rational mind is the interior and superior man ;
but the natural which flows in from the animus is the ex-
ternal man. The mind is what perceives in itself what it
is which the external and internal man advises. There-
fore the external man is the same as an animal ; but the
internal man the same as an angel.
FREE WILL. 219
XVIII.
FREE WILL, OR THE FREE CHOICE OF MORAL GOOD
AND EVIL.
(351.) The learned have been in great disagreement
on the liberty of the human mind. There are those who
assert that in divine and spiritual things there is no mental
liberty left ; or if any, that it is but shadowy and hardly to
be recognized as such. There are some who say that all
liberty is left in worldly and corporeal things ; but others
declare that this is rather slavery than liberty, for the
rational mind \mens\ is thus kept in chains by its affec-
tions belonging to the lower mind [animus]. And there
are others again who assert that there is no liberty at all,
although it may appear as though there were ; for [it is
alleged] we are drawn away either by our own loves or
by other affections which flow into the sphere of our own
minds, or by some absolute and divine direction which
carries us away as by a stream, or as a ship in full sail.
Moreover, if the rational mind has no affections of its own,
but if all flow into it either from above or from below, it
follows that the mind would not be in the exercise of its
own right or free will, but would either belong to the soul
or to the body, by the affections of which it might appear
to be as it were inflamed. But let us dismiss all these
controversies, since to assume arguments and then to con-
fute them is a barren occupation. For if we remain in
arguments derived [solely] a posteriori, or from a multi-
tude of effects [only], we shall indeed be in collision, and
our minds will as it were be in a dense and dark forest,
nor shall we be enabled to extend our view beyond the
22O THE SOUL.
nearest hill or the nearest tree. Let us then rise to
higher views, or to the principles and origin of things, or
to universal truths, and from these let us descend accord-
ing to order, nor turn from the way to refute any one, but
continue straight on to the goal.
(352.) That our rational mind can freely judge and
decide, or freely think, and when impossibilities do not
hinder can freely will and act out what it thinks, is ac-
knowledged by every one. Without the liberty of think-
ing, or of acting conformably to what we think, there
would be no understanding and no will ; yea, the very
name of will would be banished from the vocabulary, and
we should know nothing about it. Without-^free will
there would be nothing affirmative and nothing nega-
tiveTthere would be no virtue and no vice, and conse-
quently no morality. There would also be no religion
and no divine worship, for this requires a free mind.
Thus, there could be no hearing of prayers, still less any
imputation [of good or evil], because nothing could be
regarded as our own. For who imputes anything to a
machine, or to him who acts from necessity and not from
himself? Men also regard actions, as they proceed from
a will which is not forced ; what then shall we not believe
of the divine justice ? In short, without the gift of liberty
we should not be men, but merely animals. For what
would our human principle be, or that which is properly our
own [as men], unless we could think, will, and act freely?
and he who can think freely, can also will freely, for will
and action follow thought. Therefore not only to be free,
but also the ability of acting freely from one's self, is truly
human. It was also shown above that the one only thing
which belongs to us is the liberty said to be that of the
will.
(353-) It is also an established truth, that without
intellectual life or understanding there is no [rational] lib-
erty, and that such as is the understanding, such is the
liberty, which increases or decreases together with its
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 221
understanding ; so that liberty may be called the spouse
of the intellect, or the one only love of the rational mind.
For there is no liberty in an infant, but in adults there
is liberty. There is none in an insane or delirious mind,
and none in the dead,* the intellect being extinguished.
From these things it follows that there is a greater liberty
in an intelligent than in a stupid person, in a learned than
in an ignorant man, and so forth : for this is a consequence
of what has been stated.
(354.) But inasmuch as we have formed an erroneous
opinion of the essential nature of liberty, we can scarcely
comprehend that it increases according to the degree and
excellence of the intellect ; for we always believe that
that man is the more free, or in the enjoyment of greater
liberty, who is more powerful and wealthy than others,
and who is thus left to himself [that is, who is less under
the restraint of external circumstances]. Thus it is sup-
posed that the commander is more free than the soldier,
the king than his subjects, and every master than his
servant, although the servant might be most intelligent.
Yea, we might [under certain circumstances] pronounce
that man who is shut up in a prison, or cast into chains,
to be more free than one who lives in the exercise of his
own right and free will. But when we speak of the es-
sential nature and perfection of liberty we do not under-
stand its external but its internal form. For the captive
and the servant may potentially be more free than his
master, although not actually so. A man who is com-
pelled to be silent may be more intelligent than the per-
petual talker, and the man whose eyes are bound may
have a more acute sight than one whose eyes are open,
that is, in potency though not in act.
* This is in strict accordance with the Latin, nulla quoqite in mortuo, extintto
intelleftu. We are not to infer, however, that the author here denies a conscious im-
mortality of the human soul, but that, being free from ail connection with the body
and its desires, there will no longer exist that field of free choice between the good
and the evil which here is offered to us in our rational mind or intellect. (See chap,
xxvii.) [Tr.
222 THE SOUL.
(355-) We are in the habit of confounding liberty with
license, namely, to indulge our natural tempers and to
obey the wishes and lusts of the lower mind, to be able
to give the reins to our bodily appetites, yea, to allow
the insane cupidities of the mind to break out into cor-
responding acts. This is not liberty but license ; for there
is a true liberty, an apparent liberty, and also a false
liberty which should be called slavery. True liberty does
not consist in being able to think and to a6l according to
our thoughts whatever they may be, but in being able
to think and to judge wisely [which ability increases ac-
cording to the developed state of the intellect], and to
act according to right reason, that is, to choose what is
good and to refuse and repel what is evil. To give the
reins to our animal or external mind [animus] is to rush
into our own destruction both as to body and soul, and
to embrace that which is really evil for that which is truly
good. Wherefore of such a man no liberty can be predi-
cated, but rather slavery ; for our rational mind is contin-
ually governed by loves, of which some are good and others
are pernicious. This,, therefore, is liberty, that the rational
mind is able to cast off the yoke of its animal mind, and
not to suffer itself to be governed by pernicious loves, but
by loves which are truly good. This is also the end and
object why that liberty is given to us.
(356.) If we do not well consider the liberty of the
will and its free determination we cannot avoid forming
a spurious notion concerning it, imagining that it is some-
thing separate from the intellectual principle of the rational
mind, or if it be adjoined to it, that it is, in itself, some-
thing per se or of itself; whereas it is [only] a quality
which results from this intellect itself. For if it increases
and decreases with the intellect, and if it does not exist in
the first period of infancy, and if, moreover, it is of such
a nature as is the state of the intellect, it follows that it
is in the intellect in like manner as a quality is in its sub-
THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS. 223
(357.) In order, therefore, that we may acquire a gen-
uine idea of this liberty it is necessary that we again
describe what the intellect or understanding is, and in
what manner it is formed. The intellect, as we have
shown in its own place, consists of mere intellectual ideas,
which are first formed from material ideas ; for the thought
itself is nothing but an unrolling and revolving in the
mind of such material ideas, from which, when they are
collated into a certain form, results the judgment or the
mental conclusion in which the ideas are together, or
simultaneous, which in succession come into thought. It
is also confirmed above, that the ideas of the memory, of
the imagination, and of the thought, are nothing but
changes of the state of the internal sensory and of the
intellectory, and that such changes can take place in the
sensories and in the intellectories in infinite variety, for
their perfection consists in the mutability of their states.
Wherefore in the sensory, and especially in the intellec-
tory, as many changes of state can be produced as there
are ratios, analogies, series, equations, and varieties of
forms in numbers and in geometry, in their highest and
most perfect developments. Thus there are changes of
state which are general and particular, universal and sin-
gular ; that is, general, special, individual, and of manifold
variety, simultaneous and successive, co-ordinated and mu-
tually subordinated one to another, and subdivided ; that
is, there are as many states and of such a nature as
there are equations in the calculus of infinites, with which
equations and their forms they may be fitly compared.
We therefore perceive in the mind that this faculty of
changing its states is the very faculty of producing ideas,
and that in which intellectual power and action consist.
Let us, however, substitute [for this "faculty of changing
states"] the common names, intellect, ideas, thought,
principles, judgment, and the rest, which while they do
not precisely correspond, nevertheless are terms more
ramiliar to us and do not embarass our understanding.
224 THE SOUL.
(358.) Wherefore liberty itself consists in producing-
changes of state in the sensory, and consequently in the
intelle&ory, or in putting on states which harmonize with
this or that end. For we can turn our thoughts in what-
ever direction we please ; and in whatever universal state
we keep the mind fixed no other ideas can flow into that
state except those which belong to it. Every thought
is a form which is constituted of essential determinations.
Into this general form so constituted nothing but par-
ticular determinations which harmonize with it, can flow ;
or if it be a universal idea, no singulars or no particular
ideas can flow in but those which naturally determine
that universal idea. Hence, such as is the state of the
mind such are the ideas which flow into it, such also is
the form which hence arises, and such is the affection of
the form, or the love. Other things which do not har-
monize with that form are either not admitted or are
reflected back, or if they be in it they are ejected and
repudiated as heterogeneous and as destructive of that
form. This we manifestly experience every momentA; for
when we fix our thought on any subject we then repu-
diate and reject all those things which are not similar, as
though they were discordant, as when with intention and
desire we contemplate any object we love to acquire, as
honour or riches, or if we experience the venereal passion,
the mind then remains fixed in that state, and admits all
those things which contribute to the attainment of the
object, and rejects those which endeavour to destroy that
state ; and the mind thus strengthens and kindles itself
to that degree that it cannot be diverted from that state
into another, and if perchance it should fall from that
state it is saddened, and endeavours by ruminating upon
it to recall and restore it, and if it does not succeed it
is dejected and comes into a contrary state, which is wont
to do violence to our rational mind. But let us return to
the consideration of liberty.
(359.) It is conceded to our rational mind not only
FREE WILL. 225
to change its states and to lapse from one thought to
another, but also to become conscious of and to survey,
or to have an intuition of all those particular ideas which
have entered into the general state. Yea, we can thor-
oughly investigate that state, and see by what love it
is governed, and how it is kindled ; and we can also
compare this state with another, and ascertain which is
better and more suitable to the order of nature. It is
this faculty which, in the rational mind, is called liberty.
Hence we may manifestly see that liberty is of such an
extent and nature as is the intellect, and that both are
conceived, born, and developed together.
(360.) But the liberty itself of the human mind, which
may be called intellectual liberty, can be reduced into
certain classes and thus more distinctly conceived ; for
there are as many divisions (parts) of liberty as there are
of the intellect. The divisions of the intellect are intel-
lection, thinking, judging, concluding, resolving, and will-
ing, by which what we think, etc., is determined into act.
The liberty of intellection is the least of all in degree,
since it is with difficulty we can prevent sensations from
flowing in, that is, material ideas from hearing, sight,
and the other senses ; consequently it is with difficulty
we can prevent these sensations from exciting the ani-
mal mind, and this again from exciting the rational mind
to various desires. For there are pleasures and delights
which pleasurably excite the rational mind, and carry it
away naturally into such a state. Thus the cupidities
themselves of the animus, which arise from the body and
from the world or from our associations in the world, can
scarcely be prevented from flowing in, except we were to
remove the organs of our senses, yea our very selves,
from the impressions; or when they do flow in, turn our
minds away from them, which indeed is almost beyond
our human nature. The thought immediately takes up the
perception derived from without ; thus also the liberty of
the thought, which like the thought itself is complete.
226 THE SOUL.
For we can turn the mind when once excited by ideas in
whatever direction we please, and admit into it ideas
from the store-house of the memory. And again we can
reflect upon these ideas individually, which become as it
were so many new observations and excitements [to
ulterior ideas]. This liberty is a universally-governing
principle in the human mind, from which we can see of
what quality we are, or what is our real nature ; that is,
to what loves we incline, what loves we most willingly
admit, and in what affections we most delight to indulge.
Thus from our very thoughts we can perceive what is the
use of liberty. The judgment takes up the thought, and
it consists of so many principles which have been already
formed, and which the rational mind considers as so many
truths. These principles are so many intellectual ideas,
and are formed from conclusions arising from the ideas
of thought. The liberty of the judgment is not of so much
extent as the liberty of thought ; for before things are
admitted into the judgment, that they may be considered
as things judged, only those things are elected which we
believe to be truths ; or if we do not believe them to be
truths we can, from the intuition and balancing of sev-
eral kinds of love by which we are affected, so temper
and moderate the analysis of our thoughts that they may
as it were appear under a becoming human aspect. The
mind may then contemplate the present not only from the
past but also from the future ; for one equation is as it
were formed, in which all things are, and which can even
contemplate and judge, as to possibility at least, of the
future. Wherefore the liberty of the judgment is more
restricted to a certain natural order than the liberty of
thought, which not being under such restraint is accus-
tomed to wander. There may, however, be hidden in that
liberty of the thought a love, which from the fear of losing
another love can be restrained. But to enter upon this
subject now would be too prolix.
Thr conclusion immediately follows the judgment ; for
FREE WILL. 227
we come to a conclusion in order that what we con-
clude may be remitted to the will, and by that be de-
termined into a6l. Thus the conclusion is as it were
a line drawn under the equation or under the sum, which
is soon again to be resolved into its parts. In this con-
clusion it is clearly perceived of what nature liberty is,
or what it had been in the judgment and what in the
thought. For in the conclusion there are all things to-
gether ; and if they do not come forth into acl: they are
nevertheless there, so that it is only a contemplation of
future consequences, and hence a fear regarding the de-
sired end, which acl: as so many resistances and as it were
impossibilities delaying or preventing the acl: ; but imme-
diately these fears are removed the act rushes forth. Our
mental liberty, therefore, is under much restraint ; and
in order that it may be restrained there are civil laws
and penalties, the estimation in which we desire to be
held by others, misfortunes, and other things, which re-
strain. But the mind when in its conclusions is to be
considered as already in its acts. The mind, however,
still retains its liberty of dissolving and changing its con-
clusions, and of forming new ones. But this liberty is
very feeble, since there is generally within it the love of
self, consequently the love of one's own ideas, which it es-
timates as truths.
To this liberty succeeds the liberty of resolution, as if
the equation were now to be actually and successively
resolved into its parts ; and as the particular things which
are in the conclusion are to be successively evolved or
brought out by actions, either of the members of the body
or of the face or of the tongue or by the speech, there re-
mains no liberty [as it were] to this faculty, for it depends
on the essential principles which are in the conclusion ;
since the faculty itself of resolving the equation is not
any intellectual operation, but a purely organic one, and
dependent solely on the intellect. If any thing be de-
termined \vithout the intellecl: it is considered as some-
228 THE SOUL.
thing animal, which is not regarded as virtue or vice, or
considered as worthy of praise or of blame. Of the will
I shall treat below.
(361.) From what has now been said it appears that
there is a liberty of thinking and a liberty of a6ling ; and
that in the middle between these two there is as it were
the liberty of choosing \arbitrandi\, in which properly free
will consists ; and that our mind is not capable of ruling
whether the objects of the senses and their exciting in-
fluences, both from the body and the world, shall flow in
or not, but it is capable of choosing whether these sens-
ations and excitements shall flow out and be determined
into act.
(362.) In respect to the liberty of thinking and judging
it is almost absolute, but such as is the intellect such is
the thought and consequent liberty. Essential freedom
consists in controlling the thought itself, lest it rush forth
whither cupidities would urge it. For if cupidities are ad-
mitted into the thought, and are not checked and restrained
on the very threshold, they easily take possession of the
entire mind, which in that case is no longer its own mas-
ter. Hence true liberty consists in the mind's ability to
command itself and to cast off the yoke of its animus. It
may also be physiologically demonstrated how this is ef-
(363.) But the liberty of acting is much restrained,
since there are innumerable things which prevent every
thought from coming into act. Thus there are civil laws
and penalties ; there is the sense of honour and decor-
um ; there are perverse ambitious propensities which are
adorned with the pretexts of truths ; there is the respect
we have for persons whom we must obey ; there are the
necessaries of food and clothing, for the acquiring of
which there are innumerable means, all of which [as
means] have to be regarded even while the ends are kept
in view. There are certain kinds of love which prevail in
the mind, to which special loves are subject, and other
FREE WILL. 229
things which are also restraints. There is, moreover,
the conscience itself, which is a peculiar bond of re-
straint, and also a code of laws, in which are inscribed
those things which restrain the mind. All these things
are to be considered as necessary restraints, which take
away from liberty the power of developing into a6l.
Therefore as to the thought itself there is entire liberty,
but as to the a6l there are many limitations and re-
straints, which, however, exist and operate that we may
enjoy true liberty, and that we may not abuse it. The
highest liberty, as already stated, consists in govern-
ing our own minds so that we may live in harmony
with the order of nature ; and on this account liberty
is given to us. But how insane the human mind is,
and how it suffers itself to be governed by an inferior
master or by the propensities of the animal mind, is
abundantly evident from experience. Thus it is evident
that our desires must be restrained by laws ; and we our-
selves often fear lest that which possesses our minds
should by some characteristic mark break out in our ac-
tions, our speech, or our looks ; the greatest art consists
in concealing one's own mind.
(364.) But the liberty of deciding, which is free will,
coincides with the liberty of judging, and properly signi-
fies that state when the mind is balanced between two
kinds of good or two loves, and can choose that which
appears to it best, and determine it into a<5t. For this
purpose intellect is given to us and liberty is adjoined to
it, although some men in the use of this faculty deter-
mine it against truths or against their better conscience.
This happens when the loves of the lower mind prevail,
which is sometimes attributed to human weakness, and
by this abuse of our liberty we inflict injury upon our con-
science.
(365.) Therefore liberty itself, or the faculty of freely
thinking, consists solely in that ability by which the mind
•can put on whatever changes of state it pleases, and thus
230 THE SOUL.
proceed from one state into another. For every change
of state produces an idea, either simple or compound ;
thus there are as many changes of state as there are va-
rieties of thoughts and judgments. These things are said
concerning that which is the essence itself of liberty.
(366.) But it was observed above that there are loves
which perpetually govern our intellect, and that no
thought whatever can exist and subsist without some love
as a companion which enkindles it ; for love is the very
life of thought. But how loves operate in the mind shall
be considered and explained in what follows. From this,
however, the inference might seem to be warrantable
that if our rational mind is perpetually governed by cer-
tain loves, desires, and ends, there can be no liberty, or
only of such a character as to be subject to some love
which governs or commands it ; on which account there
appears to be a certain necessity in every particular [of
the mind]. It is also most true that in so far as the mind
is governed by perpetual desires, without which it would
be no mind, it is not its own master and the arbiter of
its own states ; but essential liberty consists in this, that
the mind can turn itself from one love to another, that
is, can resist and reject a love which is evil or apparently
good, and devote itself to a 'love which is truly good or
which it judges to be so. Wherefore liberty does not
consist in this, that the mind be without any love, de-
sire, or [actuating end], for in this case it would cease to
be a mind ; but liberty consists in the ability of adopting
one principle of love and of rejecting another ; and indeed
genuine liberty, namely, that which accompanies a more
perfectly developed intellect, consists in adopting the best
love [as the principle of its life]. For if an evil love or
principle is adopted it is a sign of a perverse intellect,
namely, of an intellect governed by perverse loves, and
thus it is a sign of the absence of liberty ; however, by
imperfect intellects, liberty is predicated of this license, or
it is considered that to will and act freely, according to
FREE WILL. 231
any kind of prompting love whether good or evil, is lib-
erty. Whereas, according to the judgment we form of
the liberty from which we act such is the intellect ; thus
there may be the highest liberty where slavery itself ap-
pears to exist. The reason is, because to be subject to
the highest good as to a master is a subordination which
is eminently according to the nature of things ; for in the
order of things one thing must govern and another must
obey. Wherefore that which is superior, prior, and more
perfect must give laws and commands to that which is
inferior, posterior, and imperfect. Hence if the mind
subject itself to this universal law of subordination it is
most free. For it cannot alone hold the keys, since it
cannot depend on itself; wherefore to choose and adopt
the highest good is to adopt it that the mind may serve
that which is more perfecl:, and suffer itself to be governed
by it. For if a servant rise up against his master, or a
subject against his sovereign, or a soldier against his com-
mander, this rebellion is not liberty but lawlessness,
which destroys universal society, or an entire army.
(367.) There are in the rational mind diverse loves,
which hold sway and draw to their side ; but let us pass
over this phalanx of loves, and distinctly penetrate the
subject [in question]. To this end we will only consider
that in general there are superior and inferior loves ; the
superior are spiritual, but the inferior are natural and
corporeal. These being concentrated in the rational
mind are wont to contend against each other. The su-
perior loves, because they are spiritual, are more perfect ;
but the inferior loves are imperfect. The former are con-
stant and perpetual ; but the latter are inconstant, and
in a short time they terminate altogether. From expe-
rience it is abundantly evident that these loves continually
reign and divide the mind between them, and that whilst
one governs, another yields and is as it were extin-
guished. In order to see this we have only to attend to
ourselves, when our mind is deeply and long engaged in
232 THE SOUL.
a subject of meditation which has been enkindled by some
corporeal love ; in which state if we desire to recall spir-
itual and purer things into the mind we find it to be
impossible, before the former love with its meditation
is expelled. Thus when we wish to call upon God in
prayer, the thought can never come forth in its purity
and clearness, but is as it were clouded and dark until
the merely natural thought is expelled and dispersed ; as
when we desire to penetrate into a purer region of thought,
or to arise from nature into spirit, it is as though the
thought emerged through a cloud into the light of the
sun, which can not be done before the cloud is dispersed ;
but as soon as the clouds are dissipated a certain solar
splendour shines forth upon the mind. Thus it is pre-
cisely when corporeal and worldly loves obsess the mind,
and when the mind whilst in that state desires to pene-
trate into spiritual things.
(368.) From this description it appears as though
these loves were contrary to one another because they
are in conflict together, or as though the affections of the
animal mind are as it were waging constant warfare with
the loves of the purer mind, when, nevertheless, the soul
has associated nature to itself when it adjoined itself to a
body; and it is evident that God did not join spiritual
things with natural that they should be in war with each
other, but that they should be mutually conjoined. But
it must be well considered that the lower mind, with all
its affections, is associated to the body, inasmuch as with-
out it the body could not live, nor could any rational
mind exist, and that there is no affection which [in itself]
is not lawful, and which does not spring from the universal
love which is in the soul [as its actuating principle]. But
the reason why they are at war is because the inferior
loves desire to govern in the court of the mind, and to
•exterminate the more perfect loves, and thus to govern
the soul itself which is contrary to the very order of na-
ture, namely, that that which in itself is inconstant and
FREE WILL. 233
imperfect should govern that which is constant and per-
fect ; for in this manner universal nature, as to its order,
would be ruined and destroyed. Another reason also is,
because the animus, with its peculiar affections, since it is
devoid of reason, knows no moderation and rushes whither-
soever cupidity carries it along, and thus to the destruction
of the body and even to ruin of the soul itself, as we shall
demonstrate below. For thus the affections of the ani-
mus are always tending to excess, and know no bounds
nor moderation. This is the reason why the rational mind,
furnished with intellect, is set to preside over these affec-
tions of the animus, and that there is a perpetual battle
[between them] ; for the soul well knows that such a lib-
erty would endanger her entire kingdom and cast her
down from her throne, wherefore she combats as much
as possible [against these lower affections], until she at
length triumphs or gives herself up as conquered. For
the soul, from its own nature, resists every force and every
assault by which the economy of its body is destroyed,
and by which its spiritual loves are extinguished, or if not
extinguished are changed into such as are contrary to
truths. If, however, the loves of the animus should sub-
ject themselves entirely to the loves of the soul there
would then be no warfare, but the man would live in a
most happy state, that is, he would live as in his prime-
val golden age, or as in his first infancy ; but then there
would be no intellect, which [as is the case now] must be
formed and instructed by the senses and the affections of
the animus ; and that it may be free it must know what
is good and evil, which it would not know if all things
proceeded according to their order. Wherefore all the
passions are so many warm emotions and excitements of
the corporeal life, which are all allowable, provided they
in moderation be made subservient to the use [of what is
rational and spiritual].
(369.) The rational mind is therefore constituted in
the middle between inferior and superior loves, which
234 THE SOUL.
combat against each other, and endeavour to possess that
mind. Thus the rational mind is as it were a balance,
and the intellect with its liberty holds the beam from
which the two scales depend. One scale belongs to the
body, the other to the soul ; or the one belongs to the
animal mind, and the other to the purely rational mind.
Into the scale belonging to the body there constantly
flow powers like so many weights, which affect and oc-
cupy the rational mind ; for they enter in through the
doors of the senses, from the world and from the body
itself and its blood, so that the mind can never be exempt
from their operation ; yea, it is formed by these things so
as to be a mind ; for we must be informed and instructed
by the way of the senses. But the loves of the soul, or
the pure loves, do not enter in by any way of the senses,
but are insinuated in a most secret manner from within ;
not do they come to the consciousness of our mind, be-
cause they are too pure for its purest ideas to compre-
hend ; but they are like so many forces which insensibly
occupy [the mind], for they have had possession from the
first stamen of its existence even to its birth, although
no rational mind then appears to exist. Hence it may
easily be judged that the loves of the body would prevail,
and that the loves of the soul could not be conceived of as
to their quality by our mind, except by an idea fixed in
those things which are obvious to our senses, and with
which a comparison may be established. For the soul
itself cannot instruct us — nothing belonging to it is allied
to words, nor can it be expressed in speech ; thus it can
not sensibly flow into the consciousness of the mind.
From this cause it follows that the rational mind can but
with difficulty enjoy the gift of its liberty, but is as it
were carried away like a captive by the scale of the
body. We therefore now inquire, What is the nature of
liberty in natural and corporeal things, and what is its
nature in spiritual divine things, and how, from natural
liberty we may be led into spiritual liberty.
' FREE WILL. 235
(370.) Liberty purely natural does not exist ; for lib-
erty without a spiritual principle can not be called liberty ;
but liberty can be predicated of the rational mind, be-
cause that mind can determine itself from what is natural
to what is spiritual, and vice versa ; for except there was
a scale which could be raised or depressed, there would
be no equilibration and consequently no balance. There
is indeed a certain libration between various affections
which are purely natural, for that which prevails bears
down the scale, and one affe<5tion is ejected while another
succeeds ; but these are like weights of various material
and magnitude which are placed in the same balance ;
for one kind of natural affection as well as another equally
depresses or averts the mind, and prevents it from being
raised to superior things. Liberty, therefore, in natural
things, or the power of betaking ourselves from one nat-
ural love to another is not liberty but is rather servitude ;
because the mind, which ought to choose that which is
best, is in that case either drawn into an apparent good
or into an absolute evil. For the liberty of exercising
savage rage against enemies, even when conquered, of
defrauding friends of their goods, of living sumptuously,
and of aspiring at pre-eminence over others, is not liberty
but servitude ; for as was stated above, to be able to
conquer oneself, that is freedom. In the meantime the
mind has full liberty of removing itself from spiritual and
divine things, and of determining itself to corporeal loves.
But provision against this is furnished in the forms of
government, in established laws, and in penalties im-
posed upon crimes and the abuse of liberty. As another
preventive, there is also the dread of losing one's earthly
enjoyments.
(371.) There is also no [purely] spiritual liberty in
the rational mind ; because the rational mind can under-
stand nothing of any superior love, that is, of those things
which are above itself. For that which is superior can
judge of inferior things, but not contrariwise. Nor can
236 THE SOUL.
the mind perceive that it is in any spiritual love, because
it cannot form an idea of it except this idea be affixed
to something natural, that it may by comparison under-
stand of what nature it is ; consequently it cannot expe-
rience any sensible delight when it is in a spiritual delight,
except that it can imagine it to be something more per-
fe6t, more stable, more illimitable, something as it were
infinite, perpetual, immortal, and something incomparable
in respecl: to that which it perceives to be inconstant,
limited, finite, and something mortal and to have an end.
Nevertheless, that the mind may turn itself from those
things which are perceived and felt to be something, and
likewise present, faith is required ; for the mind cannot
of itself perceive that such things exist, since the mind
when it directs its attention hither perishes as it were
in a kind of abyss. This faith is either intellectual or
divine. Intellectual faith can be acquired by an inmost
reflection and intuition of things ; it is, however, easily
extinguished when material ideas come over the mind.
But faith from a divine origin is the only faith which can
persuade the mind about spiritual things otherwise not
capable of perceiving them. Moreover, since the ratio-
nal mind cannot of itself acquire such [spiritual] ideas,
neither is it gifted with the liberty of putting on those
states which agree with spiritual loves.
(372.) We therefore now inquire, In what does liberty
really consist ; since there is none in purely natural things,
and none in spiritual things, and since the mind cannot
of itself turn itself from natural to spiritual things ? But
if we thoroughly examine and investigate the essence of
human liberty, we shall find that it especially consists in
this, that our mind can shake off natural loves, or with-
draw and deliver itself from them, and retain only so
much as is requisite for the support of the body; for to
put off all natural things would be to put off the man
himself, or to deprive him of animal life. The mind can
FREE WILL. 237
perceive that whilst it is immersed in corporeal affections,
it cannot possibly direct itself to spiritual things.
[THE FOUR CONSTITUENTS OF LIBERTY IN NATURAL THINGS.]
(i.) Liberty, therefore, in natural things consists, in the
first place, in the ability of withdrawing the mind from
corporeal things, and in considering them only as means
instrumental and subservient to spiritual things ; precisely
as the universal body is only an organ or instrument of
the soul, so the animal mind should be the instrument
of the spiritual mind.
(ii.) Liberty, in the second place, consists in this,
That the mind can be instructed both by the Sacred
Scripture and by other writings, and also from one's own
reflection, that there is a Spiritual and Divine principle
which is superior, and thus acquire a certain intellectual
faith ; by which, when acquired, the mind can be kept in
the thought of such things, and be fed and nourished by
them. From this capability of thinking about spiritual
things, when corporeal cupidities are removed the mind
can be led into ideas which harmonize with spiritual loves ;
which loves, since they are perpetually present, flow in
of themselves, and thus as it were vivify and induce chang-
es of state in the intellect, until at length it is imbued
with some sense and perception of spiritual things.
(iii.) Liberty, in the third place, consists in this, That
the mind can make use of prescribed means which are
called sacred ; that is, it can engage in public worship
in the churches, observe the sacraments, adore God, and
especially pray to Him [in private]. All these things are
left to human minds, and they all constitute that liberty
which is conceded to man ; and when these sacred things
are rightly employed divine grace is never wanting, but is
always present to infuse faith and love, and by its provi-
dence so to govern man that he can become warm with
spiritual love and zeal.
238 THE SOUL.
(iv.) In the fourth place, a liberty now comes by
which the mind can be delighted with spiritual things as
often as it averts itself from corporeal things and sub-
mits itself to what is spiritual. For when the mind glows
with spiritual zeal the intellect is then formed as it were
anew, and should be called a spiritual intellect, which
consists in changes of state which are most universal and
most perfect, and which do not belong to the sensory
but to the pure intellectory. In this case the animus
with its affections yields ; for the particular intellectories
are parts and particulars which constitute the animus, of
which if the inmost essence be purified, the common or
general state will be held in obedience. But this state,
so far verified, can never exist in the body. This is the
genuine state of liberty ; for in this state the mind relishes
the supreme good, and chooses that which is best.
(373.) In this manner the human mind is perfected;
and it becomes most perfect when it is most adapted to
the reception of superior loves. It is then purified and
as it were formed anew, that is, it is renovated and re-
generated, and rendered harmless and innocent, such as
it is in infants, whose minds are not yet governed by any
animus but by the pure mind. Therefore minds are to
be introduced into that state in which they were prior
to development and formation by the way of the senses
or a posteriori. For as the body [in old age] returns as
it were into a state of infancy, so also ought the mind
to do, and thus as it were to forget all those corporeal
things which extinguish what is spiritual ; that is, it should
not be concerned about such things only so far as to be
able to live prudently and perform one's duties as a mem-
ber of civil society. Such minds, almost spiritual, even
whilst they live in the body, have their feet as it were on
the threshold of heaven and of its internal felicity; and
for this purpose they long to be set free.
(374.) From what has been said it appears of what
nature the liberty of the first or most perfect man, or
FREE WILL. 239
Adam, was. He enjoyed a most perfect intellect, which
was enkindled and animated solely by spiritual love, in
whom the animal mind could not as yet rebel and combat
against the soul \animae\ and the spiritual mind. For
his rational mind was not instructed by the way of the
senses, nor was there any depraved society in existence
which could irritate his mind, nor the knowledge of any
evil which could infest it. His mind was supremely ra-
tional, and was entirely subject to his soul, and his soul
to God ; thus his mind was most free, because he knew
what is supremely good, in experiencing it ; for his mind
was not adapted to any other loves. Thus his entire
will was most free, because it was led to the best things.
He could also be led to inferior or evil things, otherwise
no liberty could be possible ; which also experience has
taught us. The ignorance of evil takes nothing away
from such [state of] liberty ; for it does not appear to
have been the ignorance of evil but an aversion against
it as being contrary to his nature ; so that evil could be
suggested or flow into his thought, but none could exist
in his will. Thus the image of God, or the type of all
spiritual loves, was manifest in his body. From him it
is that we derive the propensity that as he desired to rise
up against his God and to violate the laws of subordina-
tion, so does our animal mind perpetually endeavour to
do the same, and to rise up in rebellion against the spirit-
ual loves of the soul. Therefore he of all men is the most
free who, knowing what evil is and capable of practicing
it, still holds it in aversion.
(375.) That man who vehemently combats with him-
self and who bravely overcomes his corporeal desires is
more free than he who never engages in any such combat ;
for the very use and exercise of liberty is to conquer one-
self, nor can any man conquer when he has no enemy to
combat. But these things we deduce from causes, or from
the very nature of intellect, in which liberty resides. For
he who is vehemently assaulted and impugned by cor-
240 THE SOUL.
poreal loves, that is, by temptations, may indeed admit
them and harbour them in his mind ; nevertheless, if he
extinguishes them before they come out into act he re-
stores the state of his sensory and of his intelle6lory ; for
the desires which oppose pure love, change, pervert, and
torment the state of the rational mind, and at that mo-
ment spiritual loves recede or are suffocated ; for these
spiritual loves cannot agree with either state, because
they require an entire and most perfect state, and they
shun all imperfect states because they present nothing
concordant and harmonious. But if these imperfect states
are determined into act, they instantly contract a nature
so that the [evil] state spontaneously returns and passes
through its vicissitudes and alternations. For it is by use
that we are accustomed to any form and to the changes
of its state. Thus the tongue by usage learns its plications
or foldings, and the same plication returns at the first
rising of a similar idea. The muscle also conforms itself
only by usage to the action ; but a naked endeavour or
conatus, however strong, does not teach the mode of mo-
tion. And thus it is in other things. Our intellect, or
the changes of the state of the sensory and of the intel-
lectory, are cultivated, and can be taught even to extreme
old age. A naked effort or conatus can never induce a
natural change in the state, but it is accustomed to re-
lapse into its former state. And just as often that spir-
itual love of the soul is inflamed as with a certain zeal
and warmth, and it flows in the more powerfully, as
though acknowledging the intellect as its victorious
one, and so it begins to love more exceedingly its ra-
tional mind. Thus the stronger the temptations are the
greater is the joy of the soul and the greater the reward
after the victory. From these things it appears that
the works of charity, although there is no merit in them,
are beneficially conducive to the state of mind, since they
imbue it with the faculty of receiving spiritual loves.
(376.) Hitherto I have spoken concerning perfect souls,
FREE WILL. 241
in whom there are most perfect loves ; but there are also
souls whose loves are indeed spiritual, but contrary to
divine love, that is, they love imperfections ; from these
also affections flow, but such as love a perverse state of
mind whence contrary effects result ; but concerning these
souls we shall speak elsewhere.
(377.) Finally, the inquiry remains, Why should human
minds be gifted with free will, since it is this very faculty
which renders the human race most unhappy, and on
account of which we are subject to infernal punishments ?
For from abuse of this faculty all crimes derive their ori-
gin ; whereas [it is thought] that without such a faculty
of free will we might all be saved. ^But to these inquiries
we thus reply : It is evident that the supreme wisdom of
God requires this free will in man, and that His providence
is directed chiefly in guarding and promoting this faculty,
and indeed to such a degree that He will not suffer the
slightest thing to interfere with it ; but He rather permits
men to rush into the most abominable crimes than de-
prive them in the least of their free determination. This
experience itself clearly shows ; and nevertheless, at the
same time, that punishment awaits every person who is
wicked in his soul and mind, both in this life and in the
future. It is also allowable for us to think about the
causes, since this also is conceded to our liberty of think-
ing, provided our confirmation be not repugnant to di-
vine wisdom and human reason.
[FOUR CAUSES FOR THE EXISTENCE OF FREE WILL.]
(i.) The first cause, then, why we are gifted with free
will, appears to be this, That without the liberty of think-
ing, judging, and acting, there could be no understanding,
no intellectual life, nor could our rational mind be con-
scious either of good or of evil.
(ii.) That without liberty there could be neither virtue
nor vice, and consequently nothing moral ; since the ra-
.242 THE SOUL.
tional mind is as it were a form, the essential determin-
ations or determinating parts of which are either virtues
or vices.
(iii.) That without liberty nothing could be regarded
as our own ; consequently there could be no merit, nothing
either praiseworthy or blameworthy, for necessity takes
away the very nature of merit ; thus there would be
nothing on account of which we could be either rewarded
or punished. Without free will there could be no favour
or grace, not even from the Divine Being himself; nothing
ought to be more free than the worship of God, or religion,
and this is the reason why we are commanded to believe
and to love God, which from ourselves we cannot do ;
nevertheless, there is something within us by which we
can concur with these divine commands, and it is this
concurrence alone which is required of us.
(iv.) Without liberty there would be no human soci-
ety ; there could be no society of external minds \ani-
moruni], no society of rational minds \mentium\ and of
character ; yea, there could be no association- of bodies,
and no diversity ; all would be either entirely equal or
entirely contrary to one another ; nor could there be any
mutual application of one to another ; thus this our hu-
man world could not exist, for nature if all things were
equal would entirely perish and be nothing, since it lives
in diversity, and indeed in a diversity of such a character
that from all the varieties thence resulting a certain har-
mony may exist.
(v.) Without liberty there -would be no enjoyments
of life, for this in necessity altogether perishes ; hence it
is that liberty is the [essentially] human delight.
(vi.) Without liberty there could be no diversity of
souls, and consequently no heavenly society could exist,
the form of whose government is celestial ; in a word,
without liberty the end of creation could not be obtained,
which end consists in realizing a society of souls or a
heaven.
FREE WELL. 243
(vii.) Wherefore it is perfectly consistent with the
Divine wisdom and with the necessity hence resulting,
on account of the wisest end which is foreseen and pro-
vided for, that our minds should be endowed with liberty,
and that the Divine providence itself should perpetually
watch over and govern, in guarding this liberty, and in
directing it to its proper ends, that is, in distinguishing
one thing from another, even as to the minutest particu-
lars, in order that the most perfect form of a celestial
society may be the result.
244 THE SOUL.
XIX.
WILL AND ITS LIBERTY AND THE INTELLECT IN RE-
GARD THERETO.
(378.) It is most difficult for the psychologists to ex-
plain what the will is, to distinguish it rightly from the
intellect, and to consider clearly its parts ; for the will is
not the intellect, since we are able to wish that which is
contrary to the intellect, that is, contrary to the truth
understood or to the better conscience ; hence comes the
art of dissimulating, which so prevails in the earth. We
are also able to act from the intellect or from the con-
science of truth ; for the intellect itself searches for
truths, but will is led to aft as from a certain love, often
without knowing whether it be a good love or not ;
whence comes the saying, "I know the better and desire
the worse."
(379.) But that we may know what the intellect is
we must return to those things that are below the will
of which we have a knowledge, that by comparison and a
mode of correspondence we may perceive what it is. Be-
low the rational mind [mens] is the lower mind [animus],
and below the intellect the fivefold sensation or the uni-
versal sensation which is called the perception. Affections
are attributed to the animus, as are also cupidities. Like-
wise loves are attributed to the mind [mens], as also
wishes ; so that the cupidity of the animus corresponds to
the will in the rational mind. The ardour of cupidity in
the animus is called desire in the mind \mens\ which is
joined with the will itself. When we thus truly perceive
what relation the perception holds to the animus, and also
WILL AND ITS LIBERTY AND THE INTELLECT. 245
perceive the relation of the intellect to the rational mind,
then also, understanding the relation of the cupidities to
the affections, and of these to the mind [mens], we see
the relation of the wishes \voluntates\ to the loves, and
of these to the rational mind.
(380.) Now every affection has as it were its animus
and particular genius, and likewise every love its own par-
ticular mind, so that its own mind is said to be in it, and
as thus there are as many affections or special animi as
desires of the animus, so there are as many loves or
special minds as there are wills of the mind. This paral-
lelism occurs in other similar things, so that by mere
change of terms those things are suggested which are
proper to the mind.
(381.) From these [parallelisms] flow forth as it were
the synonyms, will, mind, intention, inclination ; as when
one says, "This is your mind, your will, your intention,"
and so on. But no one says, This is your intellect, unless
in those things which are directly subject to the opera-
tions of the intellect.
(382.) That we may perceive what the will is we
ought to first separate it from the intellect, or consider
the intellect abstractly from the will. Intellect viewed
in itself has for its object truth, and the very essence of
truth, its nature, quality ; nay, even the connection of
truths among themselves, as well as truths in goods, as
in harmonies, in affections of the animus, in the loves of
the rational mind ; in a word, it extends to all things in
the universe whose nature it desires to explore. It is
concerned first in finding out causes from effects or effects
from causes, which is called the science of Dialectics and
also Topics. The method itself a priori or from princi-
ples is called Synthetics, and that a posteriori, Analytics.
The method itself of exploring causes is indeed Analytics.
It is similiar to the method by which the intellect is pro-
duced. When the intellect is perfected then it is possible
to proceed by the synthetic way, that is, from principles.
246 THE SOUL.
which are so many truths ; but truly the synthetic way
in itself is of the mind, especially of the pure mind. It is
then the method of the soul and of the angels, who laugh
at our intellect, for they have their knowledge from them-
selves, without science or demonstration. The intellect
itself is beneath the mind by nature, but the rational
mind ought to be beneath the intellect. Another part of
the intellect is Rational Logic, namely, to draw conclu-
sions from antecedents and consequents.
(383.) But the mind viewed apart from the intellect
is not rational, but it is all natural, and is ruled by its own
desire and from itself; for it is love, which is an operation
of the soul and spiritual, which controls the mind. Loves
are either those of the animus or the pure mind ; these
govern the rational mind, which possesses no love of its
own or from itself. The mind always has an end, which
may even be its principle, and which may be in its means,
and may rule everywhere,* so that in a whole series of
means there shall be the same end. This end is viewed in
the mind, and indeed as present, whether it be in things
past or to come ; but the mind naturally bears with it all
the means which lead to that end, for nature is so formed
that it may serve the mind as means while its ends are
in progress. It is natural that means should be separated
by time and space, but not the end, which is the same ;
and because the end is the same in the beginning, in the
mediates and the last, it follows that love is the end.
This is desired and is promoted by the effects, so that
we may perceive in the mind the same love, its comple-
ment, and ultimate end which was in the beginning ;
whence springs the pleasure of the body, when [this love]
descends into the body. It is also possible to ascend,
and there are accordingly loves of the animus or loves of
the soul which control our mind, and thus are regarded
as ends'. The intellect viewed in itself is not mindful of
any end unless in its own mind, as for instance when it
thinks, For what reason do I desire to know this ? and it
WILL AND ITS LIBERTY AND THE INTELLECT. 247
observes that there is a latent cause which rules it, which
is called the love of knowing truths, and which love ter-
minates in some love of its mind. From this it appears
that the intellect in itself is the instrumental cause of the
superior mind, but it ought to be the principal cause in
ruling the animus, its affections, etc.
(384.) Let us now consider what the rational mind is ;
for as it is rational it ought not be carried from one end or
purpose to another, naturally or spontaneously, this being
known as instinct ; of which [instinctive] mind no will can
be predicated, as willing or not willing, but merely an in-
voluntary and unconscious being borne to the carrying
out of its own destined ends. Thus the rational mind,
which is as it were an internal sight, ought to associate
the intellect with itself, not only, for instance, to observe
the truths of its own loves, or its ends contemplated as to
their quality, but also to observe what are the means and
in what order they are disposed so that the mind may
pursue these ends. For this, knowledge is required a pos-
teriori. When the mind associates with itself the intel-
lect, it then is called rational and human.
(385.) The reason that the mind ought to associate
the intellect with itself is because the mind is naturally
borne to those ends which are purely animal or of the
animus, that is, to corporeal and worldly pleasures ; that
it should therefore be turned from these and directed
towards higher ends it is necessary that the mind adjoin
the intellect to itself. The intellect ought to be the prin-
cipal in controlling the cupidities of the animus, but in-
strumental in the loves and desires of the superior mind ;
for when the mind is inclined to the affections of the
body then the intellect ought to be the most active, but
when the mind inclines to spiritual loves the intellect
will be passive, for these loves naturally dispose from
themselves means to the end, since all things then flow
in a provident order without the intellect, its occupation
248 THE SOUL.
being only in rejecting and moderating the affections of
its own animus.
(386.) Thus the mind regards ends as present in fu-
ture things, consequently even all intermediate ends as
constituting one series or chain ; for the last end or rather
the last thing is not given in nature without a succession
of means, nor can it be promoted without a nature in
which it may as it were inhere, while the mind is intent
on the effect. That the mind embraces in itself the me-
diate ends, while nature follows at will as an instrument,
appears from the various wonderful instincts of brute an-
imals ; for the spider fabricates its own web most arti-
ficially, and fastening it under the roof-tile, he places him-
self in the middle of it, and seizes his food, winding it in
by the threads. Bees crowd their cells, filling them with
honey for the winter ; they hatch eggs, are subject to their
queen, send out colonies, kill the drones. Birds build their
nests skillfully. All as it were from a most perfect intel-
lect know all nature, science, and art, mathematics, pneu-
matics, and anatomy. We are governed by many spon-
taneous [activities], such being a whole natural economy,
chemistry, physics, and mechanics. The mind commands
every organ and its whole nature ; and our intellect, after
the examinations of so many centuries, is not able to dis-
cover how it acts ; even the brain itself to-day lies hidden
from our knowledge ; thus while our rational mind is act-
ing through the will, we are still so ignorant that we do
not know what the will truly is and how it acts.
(387.) Thus the loves of the superior or pure mind do
not need our intellect for attaining its ends, but the ends
naturally follow the love of the mind, when the love is
pure ; the intellect is only able to effect this that the
mind shall rest in the determining of those ends, which
are the loves purely corporeal, since the loves of the body,
if they are the instrumental causes of the superior mind,
then flow in natural order. The intellect ought also to
be interested in advancing superior ends actively, but so
WILL AND ITS LIBERTY AND THE INTELLECT. 249
long as society is otherwise, being carried away by so
many different cupidities, it is enough that it should abstain
trom those things by which it is led astray. The rest
belongs to Providence, which operates secretly through
our mind, flowing into actions. All things from them-
selves and by Providence follow the purely good mind to
its immortal felicity. All things from themselves and by
Providence follow the purely evil mind to its infelicity ;
but pure evils are not given in the rational mind, for in
that case it would be given over to its own body and
the animus which the mind loves. But let us return to
the will.
(388.) The will in general signifies mind, specifically
some special mind or determined love ; and because the
mind comprehends in itself all mediate ends, also it per-
ceives what opposes and what does not oppose the at-
tainment of its ends. Wherefore the rational mind derives
the means from its own intellect, and it disposes them in
the natural order, also more methodically as the mind is
more perfect and better. In this arrangement of means
there are as many parts of the mind as there are of the
intellects, namely, cogitation, judgment, and conclusion.
The mind thinks while it resolves and considers the means,
and at the same time has in view the end to which it
tends. It judges when it disposes the means into their
true order, in which means it regards the ends which are
to follow spontaneously. At length it concludes or wishes ;
this conclusion is called the will ; for then all those things
are in the will as in an equation which before were in the
thought. Thus the will possesses all the essentials of
action, as the effort all the essentials of motion. This
conclusion is different from the intellectual conclusion, in
which there is no will, for the end is not that of acting,
but of knowing what is true, and thus of instructing the
mind what end it ought to love, what to wish, and what
to avoid. Thus our intellect is able to propose ends, but
God provides.
250 THE SOUL.
(389.) Thus the mind with its thinking and judging of
means is always present in the will, and it contemplates
the action itself in the will as present ; but because it also
at the same time regards oppositions and resistances,
partly from its own intellect, partly from itself naturally,
the will is not able to be determined into action unless
the resistances are removed ; just as an effort which is
always bent upon an evil, the moment obstacles are re-
moved rushes forth to its indulgence.
(390.) There are as many wills as there are ends ;
even the intermediate ends themselves are wills ; thus
action is a perpetual will, and rational action ceases when
the will ceases ; and such as the will is such is the action
in man ; but in brutes such as is the action such is the
will, which is the same with the cupidity of their animus.
This cupidity is controlled by a kind of mind purely nat-
ural, but not by a spiritual mind.
(391.) The will always desires to expand its own in-
ternal sensories, as effort always desires to expand itself,
just as in atmospheres compressed and held in equilibrium
by surroundings, or even as if held in cords, but it is co-
erced by surrounding things or by so many intermediates
in which it is involved, which resist. But in case they do
not resist, the will is immediately brought to open action.
Thus will is joined to effort, and action to the motion, as
the spiritual to its natural or the end to its effect. Where-
fore it is not only a correspondence but a real coupling ;
and thus the will can be called rational effort, for life
added to nature becomes that which is called animal.
(392.) While the mind is in its own will, it is then
limited and determined particularly or specifically, and
is present in certain fibres of the body which pertain,
namely, to the action which it has in view ; consequently
it is determined within in certain internal sensories or
cortical glands to which the moving fibres correspond,
especially the brain, from which it contemplates the ac-
tion of the body as if present. But in those resistances
WILL AND ITS LIBERTY AND THE INTELLECT. 251
which are in and which as it were surround the will it
contemplates delay, thus in time and space, or in that
nature itself through which the end is to be obtained.
Thus it is a faculty of the rational mind to regard as times
and spaces these same delays, degrees, and movements
of nature, or its celerities and distances. Thus celerity of
time corresponds to [the idea of] time, and distance of
place to [the idea of] space, as also succession to [the
idea of] motion.
(393.) That the will may proceed into action the
equation it contains must be resolved particularly and by
members ; just so as when we wish to resolve a problem
in algebra or its equation into its ratios and analogies
by numbers in arithmetic, or by figures in geometry.
(394.) When the will thus breaks forth into act it
is called the determination of the act, and thus a form
similar to that in the will is determined in actions.
The determination itself arises through the expansion and
contraction of the cortical glands, through which the ani-
mal spirit is forced into the nervous fibres, and from
these into the moving [powers] of the body, whence such
an action exists as was in the will. Thus the mind can
go through one fibre after another and one muscle after
another with whatever celerity it desires, for the muscu-
lar system is so articulated and formed that it may cor-
respond to each determination of the rational mind.
(395.) The will also at once recurs with its accustomed
spontaneity because the mind acquires its own mutations
of state through use and culture, and thus it reverts spon-
taneously to a similar idea. For all things on the way
have by the same use become so natural that like instru-
mental causes they serve their principal or chief.
(396.) Since thus the will is the rational effort, and
carries with it this nature of desiring to expand its sens-
ories, but in a way determined into the form of an action,
we next inquire how this is physically accomplished in
the common sensory, or what is the mutation of state in
252 THE SOUL.
the sensory when the mind is in its own will. It is not
like the mutation in the ideas of its own intellect, which
are as many as the mutations of state. Very different is
the case with the will and its love and desires ; for in the
determination of certain sensories which the will desires
to expand, in order to produce its actions weaker or
stronger, a form of forces thence exists which is similar to
a form of modes or of modifications consisting in mere
attempts to expand its own glandules. Thus the will can
exist and subsist both separately and together with the
mutations of the intellect ; and thus the physical cause
of the will seems to be made intelligible.
(397.) But as concerns that liberty which is commonly
ascribed to the will, this derives its origin from the fact
that we say that we are able to will and not to will, to
determine this to action and not to determine it, to wish
against the better conscience or persuasion of the intel-
lect, thus to simulate, to deceive, and to contrive wiles ;
but in this case the nearest cause of the action is taken
for the remote, as is often done in various other things.
This is the reason why the will is commonly accepted
for the intention and for the mind itself; for while the
mind thinks and judges concerning means it is able to
vary some, to select others, to change its own mind,
yea, even its ends ; but all this through the aid of the
intellect, which it is able to consult, so that the mind
and the intellect are in this cogitation, for the most part
conjoined, but afterwards they are parted according as
the love and will, like a cupidity of the mind, carry it
away. Thus the mind is able to introduce other means
and other ends to its own will, as in a conclusion, even
to change those that have been presented to it, to mul-
tiply, to divide, to withdraw them, even to the taking
away of the whole will, and the substituting of a new
one according as it foresees success. For this reason,
when the mind associates itself with the intellect, then
liberty can be predicated of it ; as there is no liberty if
WILL AND ITS LIBERTY AND THE INTELLECT. 253
it is carried away by its loves. Liberty, therefore, is pred-
icated of the will ; for the mind is able to judge the whole
progress of means — when, how, and how far these shall
be determined into act.
(398.) But indeed, if we look closer into this liberty,
it does not seem to be separated from the liberty of the
intellect or from the free will, but coupled with it ; with-
out the liberty of the intellect there would be no liberty
of the mind ; but the liberty of the mind consists solely
in this, that it is able to obey and not to obey its own
intellect.
(399.) Meanwhile there is a universal will, which is
composed of the particular wills which subsist beneath it.
There is a common will, which is composed of other wills
as its parts ; this will is then called mind. There is a
general will, a special and an individual will, so that the
will may be divided into genera and species. There is
a will subordinate to another, and a will co-ordinate with
others, exactly as has before been predicated of the in-
tellect. For there are as many intermediate ends, and
as many wills, as there are means. In a word, all will
has respect to an effect in which is an end, thence to a
future event.
(400.) No liberty and no will is left to the soul so
long as it remains in the body, for it does not act from
any previous deliberation, since all science and all intel-
lect are connate with it, and it is itself science and pure
intelligence ; thus it has not to consult any intellect and
associate itself with it, because it is by nature associated
and most closely conjoined with it. Of its own nature it
then flows into the sphere of the rational mind, and its
operations are so many spiritual loves, which are kindled
when the loves of the body and the world are removed,
but under other circumstances become cold. The soul
also is held to act according to the will of the rational
mind, for the rational mind is not able to produce any
254 THE SOUL.
action from itself. This belongs to the soul as to the
principal cause, and indeed necessarily, for unless the soul
should thus condescend, the whole corporeal machine
would go to pieces, and the sensories themselves would be
broken up. But whether it be with its nature or against
it, it must consent to action, and thus either love its
mind or hate it. This is the reason why no one knows
the state of his mind except God Himself.
DISCOURSE. 255
XX.
DISCOURSE.
(401.) Discourse, or the explanation of intellectual
ideas though material ideas, which are just so many words,
whence arise speech and conversation, .does not result
through influx but through correspondence, just as when
hearing passes into the sight. Thus just so many mu-
tations of the state of the sensory are formed, to each of
which correspond certain forces or expansions of those
corticals which command the very muscles of the tongue.
This correspondence comes through use and culture, for
whether an idea of the mind is to be pronounced in one
way or in another, nevertheless the correspondence [be-
tween the idea and the word] remains.
(402.) The action of the tongue, however, cannot be
accomplished without the will, for will is the beginning
of action, as the beginning of motion is effort. Where-
fore the idea has to be carried from the thought into the
will, and this is the joint operation as much of the intel-
lect as the mind ; thus the whole thought is as it were
carried to the conclusion, which thus coincides with the
will.
(403.) But still it appears in discourse how distinct
are the intellect and the mind, for speech or conversa-
tion are the intellect talking ; through the connection of
material ideas, or words, and their different dispositions,
conjunctions, and the verbs, active, passive, simple and
compound, qualities which are partly occult, a form is
produced which can be understood by the rational mind,
and thus be elevated from the sphere of inferior ideas
256 THE SOUL.
into that of higher ones, where the mind seizes upon and
understands a certain inner sense which does not appear
in its true meaning except through the connection itself
just described. The mind, however, is present with its
own loves, and excites the very conversation, and as it
were vivifies not only the sound, but even supplies the
more ardent words ; especially does it break forth into
gesture, into the expression of the face and the forms of
a6lion, which are images of the mind itself; thus from
the speech itself it may generally be clearly seen what
kind of an animus lies hidden within, however much it
may simulate, for it is likely to be kindled by the thought
and speech itself dwelling long upon one subje6l.
(404.) From discourse it appears of what nature is the
communication of the intellect and the mind, and espe-
cially what is natural and what spontaneous to the mind
and to the intellect. But this matter is extremely prolix.
These subjeEls have been but little thought out.
Human Prudence.
(405.) Human prudence, which is sometimes called the
providence of the rational mind, consists chiefly in dis-
covering and arranging means to a good end, so that the
end may follow spontaneously as it were, after the exam-
ple of nature, or that the disposition and ordering of the
means may be as it were a natural one. Nor does it
seem to take its rise from any previous intellect, since it
presupposes [in itself] an intellecT: disciplined and more
perfect, as also a mind which is in accord with such an
intellect, nor does the end reveal the intention. The pru-
dence is greater in the degree that the end is better; for
what prudence allows it supposes to be good, or at least
in the intellect it is true or truly good. That prudence
may be of the highest character it is requisite that the
best end be sought for, as the preservation of society or
of one's country, of religion, of the Divine glory, and simi-
DISCOURSE. 257
lar things ; then when man proposes, God disposes, or Di-
vine providence concurs with human providence. The
mind in this case perceives no end except as intermediate,
not even the last, unless in the last there is that which is
First. He who arrives at this last in which is the First
perceives all ends as intermediates. His prudence does
not need to be active of itself, it is rather rendered active
from a superior love, and the means are present as if of
themselves.
(406.) Prudence is required as long as human minds
are so very different, some inclining to evil, others to
good ; and without these various minds there would be no
means for advancing an end. For every man is an in-
strumental cause and the means of some superior end ;
for even evil minds can be of use in attaining a good end,
often a devil in forwarding the best end, as when Judas,
inspired [by a devil] betrayed the Messiah. But this
is done not by command but by consent, for infinite
means are given to a single end, so that it is not neces-
sary to seek such evil means but only to admit them by
consent.
(407.) Human prudence extends itself to all actions
in civil life, especially in evil society or among the wicked;
both in protecting themselves and in furthering those
things which look to the safety of society; but there is
a civil as well as a moral prudence, even universal and
particular, and there are its genera and species.
Simulation and Dissimulation.
(408.) Things whether true or false are to be simu-
lated or dissimulated exactly according to the genius of
the age, or according to human inclination or circum-
stances, all of which are motives of prudence. Malicious
and cunning methods are employed when men's minds
incline toward evil. Thus it is that simulation is a vir-
tue and also a vice, since the object is the attainment
258 THE SOUL.
of an end, and the means must be regarded according to
the quality of the end, for deeds take their impress from
the will. Therefore the noblest acts of charity, love,
and benevolence are evil if they are assumed for the pur-
pose of deceiving. So in all other things.
(409.) Simulation and dissimulation are always the
external form of the mind, consequently of the body ; the
internal form which is hidden still remaining. Dissimu-
lation is a crime if we feign virtues externally, or if we
pretend to have a mind filled with a most perfect love,
for the the purpose of attaining some very imperfect end
or love ; as, for instance, if when our mind is in the
desire of revenge we should feign friendship, or when piti-
less, compassion, or when impious, piety. The vice of sim-
ulation is always the greater as the loves which are repre-
sented are better ones. Such pretenders are the world's
actors, and the real comedians of the theatre. Simula-
tion and dissimulation become a virtue if we conceal
our good ends while they flow as it were spontaneously
through the means of prudence. Yea, even if we should
feign evil things externally when among evil persons,
so long nevertheless as this does not flow from the in-
most, and through their own inclinations should insinu-
ate ourselves into their minds, still, after becoming
friends and brothers worthy of confidence, their animus
can yet be turned [to good].
But this art cannot be described in its innumerable
features, since its methods are countless, and all unlike.
(410.) It is to be observed that there is no affection
of the animus which does not show itself in the body,
either in the face, the actions, by gesture, or by speech,
and even in the very eyes. The art of simulation con-
sists chiefly in this, that the countenance and external
forms differ from the internal, and we assume an expres-
sion which fits the contrary affection ; then also that we
produce from the intellect reasons which are confirmatory,
so that the expression may be believed to be genuine.
DISCOURSE. 259
(411.) From these things it follows that to the in-
tellect is given the power and the right of commanding
the will of the mind, but not the mind itself.1 For the
mind rules universally in the will, but the intellect favor-
ing it admits and connects the means which tend to that
end which the mind continually contemplates ; so that
there can be one change of the state of the ideas of the
intellect and another of the will, and so separated may
they be that one may remain after the other is changed ;
for a change of state is one thing and a concourse of
expansion determined to certain sensories is another.
Cunning and Malice.
(412.) Cunning exists when the ends of evil are at-
tained craftily under the appearance of good, as under a
pretence of honesty, of virtue, of public safety, of religion,
or by semblance of some kind of love for others, or through
some deception by which we flatter the cupidities or wishes
of another, and this knowingly and with intention. The
cunning is the greater if the end itself, even though it
be depraved, is veiled over by something like to the
above, and appears to some minds as a thing to be ap-
proved, which is done by an intellectual colouring mak-
ing the affair to appear comely. Sometimes this becomes
the genius of an entire age, and it prevails among re-
publics and kingdoms whose officers are praised in the
degree that they deceive others with more subtle arts
while nevertheless a semblance of honesty remains. For
cunning never regards any end as terminable or ultimate,
but only as a means. It would be much too prolix to en-
umerate the various arts it practices. It prevails among
minor societies, between individual associates, and a per-
fect friendship itself is often used as its guise. The very
crafty man is a friend to no one but himself, and he loves
himself best of all. This is at this day termed prudence,
while others term it sincerity or simplicity.
260 THE SOUL.
(413.) Malice however exists when no virtue is feigned,
but when one does evil from nature itself, in the absence
of all virtue and honesty, and pretends that it would be
acting against nature if one did not act contrary to the
better conscience. Thus such a one is touched by no
shame for crime committed, and by no fear of punishment.
The wicked man is one who knows, at the same time that
he hates, truths and virtues. The cunning man does not
hate virtues, but prefers his own depraved loves to virtue ;
and he gradually convinces himself that his vices are
virtues, and he strengthens his conscience by carefully
chosen arguments ; since habit and all exercises of the
brain lead on the animus and make the changes of the
rational mind to seem like natural ones.
Sincerity.
(414.) Sincerity is the opposite of simulation and feign-
ing, inasmuch as it speaks what it thinks. Sincerity may
exist in both the good and the evil. There may be a
praiseworthy sincerity even when the inclinations are evil,
because it is a token of a truth misunderstood, or of a
mind not intending to deceive. Such a one may be the
friend of all. It grows out of the principle that feigning
is a vice, or from a principle of honesty, or else from the
habit of not wearing a false face. It is never admitted
as a trusted friend in the company of the wicked.
Justice and Equity.
(415.) Our intellect not only arranges in order, thinks,
and meditates, but it also judges and concludes, or in par-
ticular instances is governed by judgment and decision ;
but still the intellect is governed by the mind and its
desires, which cause that desirable motives be insinuated
more readily into the judgment than those which are dis-
tasteful. Since therefore there are as many judgments
DISCOURSE. 26l
because there are as many wills and desires as there are
minds, it follows that the minds themselves are unable to
ac~t in the midst of so many decisions. In order, therefore,
that there may be some one to judge more truly than
others, there must be justice. Thus it must exist among
many when they themselves disagree, and it must apper-
tain to every thing which ever comes into our thought.
(416.) Thus in all things where form, order, laws ex-
ist, in oneself and his mind, in larger and smaller societies,
and in kingdoms, there are constant discussions, litiga-
tions and controversies, whence result civil and natural
laws, jurisprudence, judges, kings, magistrates, and other
institutions. Also in the sciences, all things are em-
ployed in disputing concerning what is good and truth,
and each person is drawn into the opinion to which his
mind and animus carry him ; and if the mind were not ruled
by the animus and its desires man would know from him-
self what is just and equal, and a perpetual harmony
would rule. Ignorance, persuasion, and presumption per-
vert minds, as also do political artifices ; but were there
no self-love there would be no need of a code of justice.
(417.) Since, therefore, there exists that which is true
and good and just in itself, this is perfect in God, who is
truth itself, goodness itself, and justice itself. The con-
science also dictates justice. Lest therefore any one should
a6l contrary to his better conscience, and do what is un-
just, and so destroy the commonwealth and himself, he
is subjected to a public punishment as to his body or pos-
sessions, or he is hindered by misfortunes permitted by
Providence, or by the pangs of conscience, or fears in
regard to his soul and eternity. All these things restrain
the mind lest it should rush headlong into all manner of
crimes ; and for this reason there are punishments for the
abolition and extirpation of evil.
(418.) Equity truly corresponds to equilibrium in nat-
ure ; when the natural equilibrium is disturbed, disordered
motion takes place, and nature is as it were confounded.
262 THE SOUL.
and each thing awkwardly stirs up, acts upon, and destroys
its neighbour. Hence by the more perfect and purer forces
which are within they are reduced again to their equili-
brium. So likewise in our body and in human society,
when dissensions are adjusted we call it a state of equity,
or as it were of equilibrium, each one rendering to another
that which is his, and taking from another that which is
not his, etc.
Knowledge; Intelligence ; Wisdom.
(419.) We have a knowledge \scientid\ of all those things
which are in any manner insinuated into and held by the
memory. These are usually insinuated immediately by
way of the senses ; especially by the senses of sight and
hearing. It also is acquired through teachers and through
books containing all the sciences of things ; also by one's
own reflection and the discovery of some new truth or
principle, which is termed the offspring of ingenuity ;
therefore he is a scientific man, a doctor, or one of
the learned, who is acquainted, with many sciences, ex-
periments, and histories, and can rehearse all these. He
is believed to be intelligent ; but these two things do not
always go together. A very little child can be among
the most knowing, because it can repeat whole books by
memory, when nevertheless it does not follow that it is
intelligent. Knowledge has to be acquired by mankind ;
with beasts it is connate, but is not reproduced in like
manner. Not only can material things be retained in the
memory but also things purely intellectual, as of philoso-
phy and the deductions [of logic], many of which can be
reduced into one, and so forth ; and thus the memory can
be filled with all things.
(420.) Intelligence is the being able to reduce the
things of memory into perfect order and into perfect forms,
thence to draw forth truths, to scrutinize hidden things,
and to conclude as to present things from the past, that
DISCOURSE. 263
is, to be a philosopher as it were from birth. There are
many parts of philosophy and physics into which one
penetrates from the things of the memory from his own
intellect. As he has penetrated and from himself through
reflection possesses many truths in his memory he is in-
telligent ; for in the intellect concur the pure intellect -
ory and a certain superior natural principle such as will
instruct the very ideas of the memory to rightly consoci-
ate, that is, to co-ordinate and subordinate themselves into
their proper forms ; and in this principle there is present
of itself all science universally. Without this there would
be no intellect, that is, without a natural logic, dialectics,
topics, grammar, mechanics, acoustics, optics, etc. For
with everyone there is inborn a certain natural law ; only
the particular ideas are wanting which this law may re-
duce to order. The more apt one is in making these
deductions from himself (for the difference in this regard
is immense), in that degree is he the more intelligent.
There are very many persons who only feign intelligence,
in that they pass off, for their own, numerous intellectual
things which they have acquired from doctrine, and also
the conceptions and discoveries of others. There are also
those who cannot become intelligent owing to their want
of a knowledge of things, or their ignorance ; for these
wander as it were in darkness, but still they exhibit a
gift of ingenuity in those things which they do know.
The intellect always increases with age, and is called
judgment, or the possession of a mature judgment ; a
great many differences occur in its development, for a
man can be intelligent in one line of study and not in
another. It is rarely that a man is intelligent in all
things ; however, it may be only application that is want-
ing.
264 THE SOUL.
Wisdom.
(421.) He is wise who in all things has regard to an
end, chooses the best, enjoys properly his own liberty,
embracing those things which ought to embraced, and
shunning those which ought to be shunned. The wise
man is always honest, or a lover of all that is virtuous.
He considers himself as a part of the whole, he imposes
obligations on himself from a sense of duty, he subjugates
the animus and suffers the pure mind to act. The wise
man loves corporeal and worldly things for the sake of
uses as means ; in other respects and in their abuse he
despises them. The wise man loves intelligence as a
means, but otherwise or if it leads the mind into error
he hates it. Intelligence and wisdom are rarely conjoined
so long as intelligence is very imperfect and erroneous,
excusing the follies of the insane mind, and justifying an
obedience to bodily desires, for this takes away wisdom.
The wisest of men is he who loves his neighbour as him-
self, society as many selves, and God more than himself,
and according to this directs his actions, which are re-
garded as means. So far as he departs from this rule so
far does he depart from wisdom. The wise man is known
not from his speech but from the direction of his life. A
rustic can be wiser than the greatest philosopher, for
wisdom is divine, while intelligence called philosophy is
human, and it frequently happens that the one recedes
and diminishes in the degree that the other advances
and grows. It is the wise alone who are truly loved by
sincere men and by God ; to these does the Divine provi-
dence open a way of ascent. There are those who are
wise in nature, like those who have a native sense of
honour ; some are wise from experience, and some from
their intellect, if by the intellect wisdom has inspired
intelligence, and intelligence in its turn wisdom. Wis-
dom is therefore a faculty of the mind, and not of the
pure intellect.
DISCOURSE. 265
Causes changing the state of the Intellect and the Rational
Mind, or Perverting and Perfecting Causes.
(422.) There are connate causes which derive their
origin from the state of the soul itself, and also from its
formation in the maternal womb. There are acquired
causes, as from neglect of cultivation. There are causes
originating in the animus, and some, finally, in the body.
But the mind is variously affected respectively as to knowl-
edge, intelligence, or wisdom.
(423.) Connate causes are those which flow from the
soul itself. This is because the soul of the progeny is
derived from the soul of the parent, whose nature is trans-
ferred into the progeny. No wholly similar state of the
soul is given to the state of another. The soul constructs
its own organism after its own image ; so also does it
form the nature of the rational mind or its faculty, which
is the reason why children are so much like their parent
in animus, and why frequently the grandfather is repro-
duced in the grandson. The soul of every one is a spir-
itual form, and the loves of the mind itself are spiritual.
But the difference [of persons] consists in this, that what
one loves another hates. The soul of a divine nature
loves the celestial society and God, but the soul of a dia-
bolical nature hates the celestial society and God. Thus
are the loves opposite in the soul itself, and as often as
the spiritual mind flows into the sphere of the rational
mind, it follows that contrary loves are insinuated ; thus
some are born for wisdom, and some for insanity ; but this
insanity does not prevent the mind from being highly
intelligent, and becoming scientific, erudite, and learned,
even to knowing better than others what wisdom is, while
it is at the same time held in aversion. For all are born
to intelligence, but not all to wisdom. Those who are
born to wisdom are called the ele6l, or chosen ones.
(424.) Causes connate through formation in the mater-
nal womb. — The soul itself is from the parent, or [rather"]
266 THE SOUL.
the inmost determination of that human form which after-
wards is procreated or conceived in its own remarkable
manner. For the soul is introduced immediately by the
parent with its pure intellectory, in which similar substanc-
es are procreated in order, and the mother furnishes in
the ovum every external form for the use of the soul, and
supplies all that the liquors should contain ; and because
the maternal sensories communicate most closely with the
embryo it follows that the child may assume a mixed
genius of the mother and of the father, for while the soul
of the father is in the offspring the animus is of both
father and mother. From these things it follows that
according to the accidental and natural mutations of the
animus in the mother the organism itself of the internal
sensory can undergo changes. Thus for example, the
memory may be more apt for the reception of objects or
for knowing them and then understanding them ; for all
the faculties depend upon the form itself, and its relation
to those things adjoined, superior and inferior. Besides,
the maternal nutriment, which the embryo imbibes, may
be affected by a morbid constitution. Likewise accidents
may occur in gestation itself, as compressions, contusions,
and things of such a nature ; or to the new-born infant
through the carelessness of the midwife or nurse ; also
through the milk; or by various accidents, neglect or
malice, it may be brought about that the rational mind
cannot be perfectly developed, or that it inherits some
natural imperfection. But whatsoever evil it thus de-
rives is external, and not an internal vice of the soul
itself, which is thus rendered incapable of operating into
its own proximate organs and through these into the
more remote.
(425.) Among acquired causes the chief one is that
the mind is not improved, or that it is not rightly culti-
vated, thus when it is not cultivated by knowledges, or
when its cultivation is not in the natural order, those things
being forced upon it to which it does not naturally incline,
DISCOURSE. 267
or out of their proper succession ; also when the mind is
not excited by a love of perfecting itself; for the love or
ambition to excel others in knowledge, intelligence, and
wisdom especially contributes to the perfection of the
mind, and in very many this ambition can be aroused.
But when the mind is not cultivated it remains in the
state of its own ignorance, since without ideas of the
memory and imagination the rational mind will in vain
endeavour to develop its own nature and produce its proper
faculty. For the mind is like an artisan who does not
know how to work without instruments ; and the intellect
is the principal cause, and the memory and thence the
imagination is the instrumental cause. Thus in the most
illiterate peasant whose mind is instructed in no science
there may be a greater than the prince of philosophers ;
for thus the greatest endowments and the loftiest genius
frequently lie buried in the most obscure minds, and often
are by a singular providence brought into light. In the
mean time they appear as dry sponges, as dregs, and a
sterile field overgrown with thorns.
(426.) There are causes originating in the animus. — It
.is evident that the animus, either naturally or by habits,
or by some cause, as by misfortune, too excessive joys, or
by bodily disorders, can become diseased and desire things
not desirable, overshadowing the intellect of its own mind,
being unwilling to admit anything which does* not flatter
this special animus, and rejecting not only intelligence
itself, but also wisdom, and holding them in hatred. Such
believe in everything which agrees with this love. In a
word, in as far as the animus wishes to rule over the
pure mind in our rational mind so far it prevents the mind
from becoming perfect, since these loves are what distract
and disturb the mind and make it sick ; neither do they
only disturb it, but they obscure it with a kind of ignor-
ance, just as do pride and haughtiness, avarice, and other
base loves. Hence comes a contempt of the sciences of
intelligence and of wisdom. The animus also infects the
268 THE SOUL.
animal and sanguinary spirits and diffuses widely its own
poison ; for the animus immediately flows into the form
of the body, and thence corporeal causes are aroused,
which combined operations destroy the life of the mind.
(427.) Corporeal causes are many ; as the various dis-
eases which affect the humours, especially the red and
the purer blood, or animal spirit. These diseases are
innumerable, for many diseases pollute the blood. All
things causing disease will therefore cause destruction of
the mind, thus bad nutriment, poisons, drink, and every
kind of intemperance, since the vitiated blood draws the
animus apart and consequently the mind ; for the animus
naturally depends upon its own intellections and the
form of the common intellectory, but externally it also
depends upon the state of the purer blood or the animal
spirit, which if diseased drives the mind to insanity, even
to delirium, but on the blood being restored to health
the mind returns to its normal state. From which it fol-
lows that these changes of state are external and not
internal. How this happens can be demonstrated, for
through the sensories or cortical glands, as from the
arterial vessels into the fibres, there flows continually the
blood-spirit. Such is the quality of the blood-spirit \spir-
itus sanguinarius~\ that if it is too warm, too cold, too thin,
too sluggish, too watery, or mixed with heterogeneous or
homogeneous particles, it will remain in this cavity of
the gland, either not flowing in or not flowing out. Then
the sensory is unable to pass through its change of state,
and hence it can produce nothing from its memory, it
can neither imagine nor think. Besides, it can be excited
internally as well as externally into absurd and irregular
motions by heterogeneous causes, whence come deliriums.
Similar things take place in burning fevers, in apoplexy,
epileptic fits, paralytic strokes, in catalepsy, tarantismus,
loss of memory in catarrhal disorders, and other troubles.
These are the ordinary bodily causes. There are also
extraordinary causes which injure the cerebrum itself and
DISCOURSE. 269
thus the common sensory or the external form of the sens-
ory, as infli<5led wounds, water on the brain, inward tu-
mours, and innumerable like things, some of which can be
cured and others not. That the reasoning power of the
mind, or the human intellect, and likewise the affections
undergo at the same time noticeable changes, is confirmed
by daily experience.
(428.) From these causes which diminish or destroy
the executive faculty of the mind it can be judged what
are the causes which perfe6t the same faculty, for from
an examination of particulars a knowledge of contraries
flows. In the meantime, this care is most incumbent
upon us, that there should be a sound mind in a sound
body, or that the body and the animus should only be
so indulged that the mind shall always remain sane.
2/0 THE SOUL,
XXL
THE SPIRITUAL LOVES, OR THE LOVES OF THE SOUL.
(429.) That we may know of what kind are the affec-
tions and loves of the rational mind it is necessary that
we consider not only the affections of the animus, con-
cerning which we have just now treated, but also the
loves of the supereminent affections of the soul ; these
are called superior, the former inferior ; the latter spirit-
ual, an4 the former purely natural or corporeal. Because
the rational mind does not possess any loves of its own,
but is obliged to be ruled and drawn here and there,
either by spiritual or superior loves of the soul or by
the corporeal inferior loves of the animus, therefore it is
necessary that we know what and of what nature are
the loves of the soul, or rather of our spiritual mind, for
thence flow the virtues and vices which are the essential
determinations of the human mind.
(430.) All loves of the soul, which may be called the
eminent or spiritual affections, are universal, and they
embrace in themselves in minutest particulars, in po-
tency, all the affections in general which are able to ex-
ist specially and in a part. From a certain universal love
as if from their own fountain head flow all special and
particular loves like brooks. They cannot manifest them-
selves in any place except in the animus and the mind,
in which they are determined into certain genera or cer-
tain species, all of which look to a certain universal love
in the soul, from which when they descend as streams
they are on the way liable to be defiled by imperfections
which are adjoined to nature, and so they scarcely know
LOVES OF THE SOUL. 2/1
that they are derived from so pure a fount. The animus
derives its power of desiring or of loving from its own soul ;
but the power of loving in one manner and not in another
it derives from its form, as also from its connexion with
the soul by means of the rational mind. Therefore the
effort of almost all science is to be able to subordinate
particular under special loves, and these under general
ones, or to arrange them into their own classes, and to
perceive in what manner they flow from universal or
spiritual loves : this is the true psychological and pneu-
matic science.
(431.) All souls are purely spiritual forms, thus all
their minds and loves are purely spiritual, whether they
are good or evil ; for the spirit, whether it be good or evil,
is nevertheless purely a spirit, or purely a mind, and it
has loves purely spiritual, that is, universal, in which are
contained the principles of the inferior and purely natural
loves. The good angel, as the evil angel or devil, is
purely a spirit, and the loves of both are purely spiritual,
with this difference, that what the good spirit purely loves
is contrary to what an evil spirit loves, or is what he is said
to hate ; for there exist pure love and pure hate, which
are purely contrary loves. Thus there are spiritual loves
good and evil, but they are all universal, superior, and
belong to the soul, and are most perfectly good or evil.
But because good and evil, as truth and falsity, are op-
posites, and in one subject there may exist a mixture of
good and evil, and truth and falsity, owing to that mix-
ture, in accordance with the received habit of speaking,
that which is not purely good is called impure, or that
which is purely evil very impure ; so love is pre-eminently
known as the love of good, although there is a love of
evil which from its own nature is conjoined with the hat-
red of good. But lest we may produce confusion of ideas
in the following parts, we propose to use the expression
the mind and the purely spiritual love, but not the pure
mind or the pure spiritual love ; for on account of acquired
272 THE SOUL.
ideas we are scarcely able to discern that that is impure
which is not purely good or purely true. Strictly speak-
ing, all that is impure which is mixed with imperfections
below itself, so that the human rational mind is never
pure.
The love of a Being above Oneself.
(432.) The first and supreme spiritual love or love of
the soul, and the most universal, is the love of a Being
above oneself, from whom it has derived its essence, and
perpetually does derive it, in which, through which, and
on account of which Being, it is and lives. This love is
the first of all, because nothing can exist and subsist from
itself except God, who exists in himself, and alone Is
Who Is. Because the soul feels this in itself that su-
preme love is innate in it, and thus the very divine love is
in us.
(433.) There exists a purely contrary love, yet it is
spiritual and supreme, or a pure hatred of Divine power
or of a being above self; this love is called diabolic. From
this we may recognize of what quality good love is, and
from the good of what quality the evil is, for there exist
infinitely different mediate loves. This love is called the
love of evil, the evil mind itself, such as is the mind of
certain souls ; for the soul of no one is absolutely similar
to that of another, nor ought it to be similar, that there
may be a society of souls, and the most perfect form of a
society. The evil spirit or the diabolic mind even feels
in itself that there is a Being above itself, from which it
has derived its own essence ; that that Being is to be
loved above self, and the love to be testified by adoration.
But although it recognizes, nevertheless it disdains and
envies it, and rebels against its own consciousness, and,
hates the very truth that it is so ; and thus it loves self,
above that Being, whence there is a perpetual incurable
hatred, such that he would wish to destroy himself a
LOVES OF THE SOUL. 273
thousand times if only at the same time he could destroy
that superior Being both without himself and in himself,
which cannot be destroyed. The conscience of such a
mind is in anguish when it is doing nothing contrary to
the better conscience, and it so acts because it hates the
truth most deeply and from its very nature, and would
perpetually love to destroy it. There are certain rational
minds which seem to be images of this spiritual mind ;
may such not be the state of their soul?
The love of a Friend as Oneself.
(434.) The love of a friend as oneself, or where there
exists a love of another equal to that of oneself, is a
spiritual love, for the soul or spiritual mind recognizes
another soul and mind as an associate, and one of a so-
ciety or divine kingdom ; this flows from the nature of
things, as well as from the first or most eminent of all
loves.
(435.) From nature : One or a part by itself is as if
nothing unless it has relation to many things with which
it is ; thence exist a certain form of such things and the
affections of form. There is no harmony unless it is of
many united, and by virtue of the manner in which these
are united among themselves ; thus there is no felicity
of souls unless of many together, no form and conjunction
unless through love ; and through love of another as one-
self, whatever is in another is communicated to oneself
and appropriated as one's own. Thence results a multi-
plied felicity of all, which is concentrated in each one.
(436.) From Divine love : Whoever loves a friend as
himself does not do so on account of the friend, but for
the image of himself in that friend, and when the love is
reciprocal, on account of the image of that one in him-
self, so that that one becomes a participant of that
love and of the thence resulting felicity ; and thus the
harmonv of all the friends who constitute the whole so-
2/4 THE SOUL.
ciety may transcribe its joy and happiness into oneself,
and from oneself, in whom the idea of the whole is con-
centrated, into each and thus into all. By this means a
felicity beyond all power to describe, an inmost, even a
Divine felicity, is excited. And since that love is not to-
wards self, or society principally, but towards a Being
above self, to whom one is united by love, one loves the
friend through love towards Him with whom he desires to
be united, and who resides inmostly in the friend. This su-
pereminent or Divine love, which extends itself to the uni-
versal society of souls, and pours out that very felicity from
its own essence, can not help producing this as its first ef-
fect, that one loves that companion who, like oneself, also
is loved by the Divine, so that they can not otherwise be
united than by a conjoined love towards Him who loves
both with His own love. Wherefore that very conjunction
resulting from love descends solely from a common love
of a superior, which is the common universal and hence
the particular bond of all. Spiritual love towards a com-
panion extends itself so far as not to hate even a devil,
but the evil which is in him, and if he were curable he
would love him, but as it is he only pities him. Therefore
the most universal spiritual love is the love of a Being
above oneself; from this descends the love towards a
friend, for the individual loves of friends are united by a
supreme love, and from this they are derived. These in-
dividual loves taken together constitute that universal
love which is divine.
(437.) There is a contrary love, spiritual as well as
natural, or a pure hatred of others and love of oneself
alone. This love is diabolical, and it follows naturally
from the hatred towards a superior or God. Whatever
joins the minds of friends this disjoins, for those impelled
by it seek to cast down that superior beneath themselves,
and they cast Him down in themselves, consequently all
those who are His and are in Him whom they judge in-
ferior to themselves. It declares itself rather their god
LOVES OF THE SOUL. 275
regarding itself as the universal or as omnipotent, or of
such a quality in itself as God is, consequently all things
which subsist from God as subject to itself. Wherefore
these do not love their companions unless they agree with
their projects and are minded as themselves, not from love,
but from a likeness of will to accomplish an end. But
because there is no universal or superior hatred by which
the minds of those who hate may be conjoined there is
no regulated society, but one is armed against the other,
for they have their very essences in hatred, and all that
they love is vice. Thus in this same hatred remain their
soul and life, and one rushes to the destruction of another
and tortures another. These results follow as simple con-
sequences. From these statements it is manifest of what
kind the intermediate love is, for there are infinite differ-
ences between the pure love and the pure hatred of those
who are associated.
To love Society as many Selves.
(438.) The love of many, of society, of country, of
the human race, is not above that of self in the ratio in
which is love towards God, but it is greater than that of
self in an arithmetical or geometrical ratio or proportion ;
it becomes so by simple addition or multiplication ; in an
arithmetical ratio if love increases according to number,
in a geometrical one if according to number and the
greater and smaller societies, while at the same time their
sums increase. But love is elevated above self, as an in-
ferior power is to a higher power ; for example, as a root
is related to its fourth power or cube ; so that while the
love itself may be almost as nothing, respectively, still
it becomes something according to the number of those
who are loved and who are able to love. Therefore love of
the neighbour as oneself supposes a multiplication of love
respectively, in the degree that the society is numerous.
Nevertheless the increase of love is wholly from the same
276 THE SOUL.
cause, for in the degree that it is more universal there is
reciprocally a greater sensation of love in oneself, and
of felicity thence resulting, since all its delights increase
in the same degree. This love, however, being spiritual,
does not concern terrestrial society, but the celestial so-
ciety of souls ; it is not of the mind but of the soul, and
thence it is pure for, since it is of this quality, pure truth
is in it.
(439.) The contrary love, or pure hatred, increases in a
similar ratio towards its many objects, thus it takes place
in an analogous arithmetical or geometrical ratio ; indeed
as opposed to the Divine will in a double and triplicate
ratio. It is not therefore necessary to describe this more
fully. Such is diabolical hatred. It is not love of one's
own society, but of evil alone, which never intimately
associates minds, because there is nothing above which is
a common bond ; hence the one aims at the eternal de-
struction of the other, for each one numbers the other
among those who are evil, and because the very truth
they know convi£ls those, hence it affords a reason why
they are not to be loved, and why they deserve punish-
ment.
The love of being Near the One loved.
(440.) The love of being near to God who is loved
is the most eminently spiritual love, for it is in the very
nature of love itself. Hence when there is pure love there
is nothing of the love of being above one's companions,
that is, no love contrary to the love for a friend. With
this contrary love pure love has nothing in common. It
does not reflect upon itself; but should it do so, lest
there should come a desire of precedence over one's
friend it would assign itself the lowest place of all.
But God Himself is the One who exalts, and thus
the love to be nearest to the beloved can exist with-
out any desire of eminence ; wherefore it pertains im-
LOVES OF THE SOUL. 277
mediately to the love of God, but not to the love of the
neighbour as oneself. Then indeed the love of self wholly
vanishes, and there arises a sort of contempt of self, on
seeing oneself to be near to God and yet so infinitely dis-
tant from Him and to be almost nothing. Through Him
alone has he any being, and the more in the degree that
he is nearer to Him. When there exists this pure love,
together with a love towards the neighbour, then there is
an absence of jealousy if another is nearer to Him, and
superior to himself; for then he loves the superior so
much the more because he is nearer to God whom he him-
self loves. But indeed, if he does not look solely to love
towards God, but regards also his own happiness, emi-
nence, or love of self, then the love is not pure but mingled
with jealousy. Envy ever presupposes something of love
of self, of eminence among equals, and always reveals
that it is so far distant from the love towards God.
(441.) The love of being remote from God, who is
Love itself, is the effecl: of diabolical hatred itself, con-
joined with the greatest jealousy if one witnesses the
success of another's kingdom or society ; thus one is stimu-
lated by envy to prevent his neighbour's enjoying success,
and his hatred is rendered most intense. But indeed,
when he sees his neighbour's success assured and is not
able to further resist it, then this hatred is turned into
the last degree of envy and fury, as much against self as
against the neighbour. In this seems to consist infernal
torment.
The love of being Eminent in Happiness, in Power, and in
Wisdom.
(442.) The love of eminence in happiness is never
a divine love, although it be spiritual, for in so far as a
person loves his own happiness instead of the happiness
of others, so far he loves himself more than others, and
thus so far he removes himself from those two fundament-
2/8 THE SOUL.
al loves of the first [source of love] and becomes more
unhappy. To love God and the neighbour for the sake
of one's own happiness is for one's own sake, thus it is
not pure love; but to love God for His own sake, because
He is Love itself, and to love the neighbour for God's
sake because this is His love, and because any other love
is the love of self, is pure love. But to love chiefly on
account of the effect of love is contrary to order itself,
for happiness flows of itself as an effect from these two
loves ; and pure love does not look to effect but to Love
itself, abstractly from effect.
(443.) The love of surpassing others in power is similiar
to the love of excelling in happiness, for one involves the
other, as we always suppose there is happiness in power.
This love of eminence discloses a love of self instead of
others, such as the love of ruling always is, thus it is
still less divine, although it be spiritual.
(444.) The love of being eminent in wisdom is similar.
To strive after wisdom is a virtue, but to do so for the
sake of being eminent through wisdom is a vice ; for wis-
dom itself, like happiness and power, is a necessary con-
sequent of the love of God above self. So that to love
happiness, power, and wisdom chiefly is to prefer them
to God, or to love God less than self, or equally with self.
This indeed is not a diabolical love, for the devil does not
love or desire to love and adore God for any end which
is the necessary consequent of love, but he entirely hates
Him. Wherefore this seems to be the love of human souls
after the fall of Adam, thus it is in our souls, and indi-
cates their perverse state ; yet we ought, nevertheless, to
recover that pristine state, and both by prayer and the
grace of God we are even able to strive for this end with
our own powers.
(445.) The love of eminence conjoined with hatred
towards God and the neighbour is diabolical, nor can it
exist without the love of self above others, or spurious
ambition, avarice, inhumanity, and many other vices or
LOVES OF THE SOUL. 2/9
crimes. It especially manifests itself in the love of power
over others ; the desire to be able to be over others is the
desire to be more than man, thus to be equal to God. It
loves these means as an end, for instance, honour, riches,
possessions, which affections go on increasing and never
terminate, for they aspire to the infinite, and believe them-
selves at the last to have reached something infinite,
although it will be as far distant as the finite from the in-
finite, should they have become possessed of the universe
itself. The happiness to which such a one aspires is sup-
posed to be in power itself and to be reflected by it upon
him, but because [his love] comes from a source contrary
to felicity, he becomes the more unhappy.
(446.) This love is contrary to wisdom, because it is
contrary to God, who is love and wisdom, therefore it is
hatred of wisdom and also hatred of the true intelligence
which dictates wisdom, of which nature is the love of those
in the desire of ruling. These do not love wisdom on
account of wisdom, but that by this means they may bet-
ter rule over human minds, which power they esteem as
wisdom. Except for this they would desire all wisdom
to be extinguished, and wish that the dark ages might
return.
The love of Propagating the Celestial Society by natural
means.
(447.) The love of propagating celestial society is spir-
itual ; for example, the love of multiplying the members
of society. This love is greater than the love of self,
because it is on a plane with the love toward society,
since the soul knows that that society cannot be propa-
gated unless by natural means, for instance by genera-
tion, therefore of itself it burns in this desire, which is
the reason why venereal love is so vehement an affection
of the animus. Spiritual love thus descends into nature,
where the means are provided. But that this love, al-
280 THE SOUL.
though made corporeal, may indeed remain spiritual in the
mind, it is a pure and commendable love when it regards
heaven for an end, and the increase of its society. There
is in this love a love of multiplying oneself, for it does
not consider the offspring as separated or disjoined from
self, but it considers self together with the offspring, as
self multiplied.
(448.) But indeed, the contrary love or love of de-
stroying the propagation of society cannot exist, not even
in the Devil, for he loves his own society, and hates the
divine ; hence he eagerly desires the increase of members
of his society that it may prevail. It is for this reason,
I believe, that God gave so great power to the Devil,
and united so great a society to him, that the love of
propagation may not cease, even in diabolical souls. The
love of destruction, or cruelty, reveals a hatred which is
so supreme that it rebels against the love of self, thus
that it desires to be cruel against self, and wishes for the
destruction of the universe. Thus in the human race there
can exist a hatred that surpasses diabolical hatred.
The love of one's own Body.
(449.) The love of one's body is not to be confounded
with the love of self. Every one loves his body because
it is in connection with the soul, for the sake of propaga-
tion and multiplication in it of the soul, for [the soul] is
continually conceived and multiplied. From this love
flows the love of nourishing oneself, the sense of taste,
also the love of protecting oneself from the surrounding
vapours, whence is the sense of smell, also sight, and even
pain when force and injury are inflicted upon the body.
Without this love the ends and loves before-mentioned
could not be obtained. Every one can love his body, and
nevertheless love his neighbour as himself; for if he loves
his neighbour as himself then he loves the body on ac-
count of the love of self, and at the same time on account
LOVES OF THE SOUL. 28 1
of the love towards society. While he does not therefore
hate his body, still he is willing that it should be destroyed
for the sake of society, rather than that society should per-
ish, and finitely for God's sake woutd prefer this. Celestial
society is one body, whose soul is God himself. Because
one loves God and this celestial body he does not love
himself and his own body otherwise than [as] a part of that
society, or for the sake of his being a constitutive part.
(450.) Hatred of one's body cannot exist, unless in so
far as it [the body] is not in connection with its soul, and
does not obey when the mind commands ; for this very
love is a connection [of body and soul], but hatred is
disjunction. So an artist does not love an instrument if
it is not adapted to his use.
However, when we love anything more than self,
whether the love be genuine or not, as love of glory, fame,
envy, riches, venery, then we prefer that love to the love
of our corporeal life, but still we do not hate the latter.
We love the body in so far as it is a means of obtaining
that which is loved, and in so far as it is that which
through the mind feels love. Thus when death is risked
for love it is not a hatred of life, but an indication that
one desires that love may live. When, however, one is cut
off from a hope of superior love, then he falls into the hat-
red of living in the body, and there is a desperation and
insanity of the mind, for without that love he thinks that
to live is not to live, or but to live in misery ; and thus
he desires his own extinction. But such an insane love
or hatred of self is never conjoined with genuine and
truly spiritual love, such as the love of Deity, of friends,
of propagating society ; therefore it is as contrary to the
essence of true love as it is to wisdom, these two being
very closely joined.
282 THE SOUL.
The love of Immortality.
(451.) The love of immortality is a spiritual love, and
coincides with the love of God and of society ; for the
spiritual life is to be nearer to God, who is Life itself and
by whom all things live ; but it is spiritual death to be
remote from Him. Still that death is not extinction of es-
sence, but is the extinction and privation of love to which
true life belongs, just as a dark surface is not the extinc-
tion of light but is a suffocation which cannot exist with-
out light. Hence it appears that the love of immortality
is not that of living to eternity, but of living well and
happily ; for the soul knows that it is to be immortal,
hence it does not love its own immortality so far as
this is assured ; since all love presupposes a change
and the possibility of a contrary, and otherwise it is
no longer love. Therefore love perishes in those things
which cannot be otherwise that they are. But the
love of immortality appertains to those things which may
be mortal or immortal, such as the exercise of,love, char-
ity, honour, virtue. These are all spiritually loved in order
that they may be immortal in oneself, since the mind or
the soul is the subject of these loves, and they may or
may not exist in it. Since, moreover, these are the means
of meriting the favour of the Supreme Love, the soul loves
these as means and also as an end, not on account of
self that it may be eminent among its associates, but for
the love of Deity, and in order that there may be that in
itself which it can communicate with its fellows to make
the bond of love between them more close and binding.
In this way it is better able to attach society to itself and
itself to society.
(452.) There is also a hatred of immortality ; but not
that which is absolutely such so long as some hope ot
happiness remains ; thus not in the Devil even, until after
the last judgment, when all hope is gone, and the happi-
ness of the blessed becomes manifestly the source of pain.
LOVES OF THE SOUL. 283
Thus there is a possible love of immortality in the vicious
and criminal, inmostly resulting from the love of self, but
the love of the immortality of vices arises when vices are
esteemed as virtues or when there is something in vice
which savours of virtue. Besides, all love of immortality
perishes in vices, and brings with itself a doubt regarding
all immortality, and at length a denial. These are the
effects of impiety.
Spiritual Zeal.
(453.) Zeal is the active and ardent principle in the
above-mentioned loves, by which they are not only excited
to loving but also to promoting the means for obtaining
the end, and so some spiritual zeal is present in every
love. For love in itself is not active except in the degree
in which it is also passive, thus without zeal there is no-
thing in love proper to the subject in which the love resides.
The zeal itself is the property of the spiritual soul, and it
arises or is born and excited only by contraries. Thus
without the actual existence of a contrary, or without the
devil or contrary souls, there could be no zeal, but it would
be a nonentity. Zeal is accordingly excited according to
the degree of the assailing or the repugnant force, and it
sets itself against its opponent as its enemy. Thus the
stronger the diabolical society is, the greater is the zeal
of the celestial society ; and with the devil extinct this
would also entirely subside. Thus there would be no
kindling of minds, no anger of the animus, except from
really exciting opponents. Zeal is in itself a love excited
to a superior degree in order that it may equal the opposing
force which it desires to extingiush.
(454.) There is also a zeal in hatred, and indeed fierce
and deadly, thus a rage and an impure burning fire. The
anger therefore proceeds not from the zeal but from the
hatred, and is turned into fury ; but true zeal never de-
generates into anger, but is a mild and gentle fire, inwardly
284 THE SOUL.
but not outwardly glowing. Thus it has been demon-
strated both in spiritual and natural things that zeal or
a righteous displeasure is able to extinguish the furies
and tempestuous angers themselves, or that one good soul
is able to put down thousands and myriads of bad souls and
devils. For the Devil does not ignore the truth, but hates
it ; still because he knows that it is the truth which he
hates he cannot help fearing the truth itself from a cer-
tain inmost essence, because it is stronger than himself.
Thus one good angel is sufficient to cast down a thousand
devils, for they fly at the first blow, as those who are tor-
mented by an evil conscience. This fear is innate ; while
in others there is no fear but only the zeal which belongs
to bravery.
The love of Propagating the Kingdom and City of God.
(455.) This is a spiritual love, and flows immediately
from the love of God and of society, but is excited and
grows in zeal according to the degree of the opposition
met. The kingdom of God is the celestial society of souls
itself, the city of God being the terrestrial, which is the
seminary of the celestial. This love of propagating the
city of God or the Church is the mind and spirit of our
religion, and all the means of propagating this religion
are subject to this love.
(456.) But the love of destroying the Church is diabol-
ical, and its kingdom is on this earth. It is the contrary
of true religion. This subject would be too comprehen-
sive for discussion here.
The derivation of Corporeal front Spiritual Loves, and
their concentration in the Rational Mind.
(457.) From comparing loves together, the spiritual
and the corporeal for instance, it becomes evident enough
that spiritual loves are the fountains of all corporeal loves ;
LOVES OF THE SOUL. 285
consequently that no corporeal love can exist unless a
spiritual love pre-exists ; and that the spiritual cannot
exist unless there be actually a heaven or society of
blessed souls and a hell or society of infernal souls, for
the one presupposes the other ; as, if you should deny the
source you would also deny the derivatives, and at length
you would have to deny the existence of every affe6lion
of the body or the animus, for nothing can exist from
itself, it must flow from some principle to which it uni-
versally belongs.
(458.) Now since the spiritual loves are the sources of
the loves of the body or of the animus, so the particular
loves of the body can be deduced like so many special
determinations of a certain spiritual love. For there is
an infinite variety of affections of the animus, but all may
be subordinated and arranged in order, so that one may
know from what source they flow. But this subordina-
tion cannot be unfolded and described except in many
pages.
(459.) But it may happen that there is a good spirit-
ual love in the soul, and a bad one in the rational mind
or in the body. Indeed man himself is naturally good,
and by use and habit becomes bad. Therefore as the
mind is not such as is the soul, and still less the body,
therefore it belongs to God alone to judge concerning the
soul and its love. For all tKe loves, both of the soul
and of the animus, are concentrated in the rational mind,
which thus is carried along, not only according to its own
natural inclinations but also according to principles ac-
quired or intellectually learned. Likewise also is it drawn
asunder by the authority of others, by use, and by the
natural seductions of the pleasures of the body, and so
another nature is induced upon it. The most universal
source [of the bodily and spiritual loves] is the love of
Deity above, and thence the love of the fellow-man as of
oneself.
286 THE SOUL.
Pure or Divine Love viewed in itself.
(460.) God is the very spiritual Esse in all things, and
so far as the spiritual Esse itself is in corporeal things God
is that very Esse in those things, so that in Him we live,
move, and have our being. Now so far as God is the Esse
itself in all things, He is the Love itself which cannot but
belong to that Esse which is from itself and yet distinct
from itself. For if God essentially recedes from a created
spirit it is no spirit, since that it exists is not a property
of spirit but of Him by whom it is created, in order that it
may be. As we say from analogy, the body is not the\
soul but the soul is the very esse of the body, so that if
the soul departs the body is no longer a body, but falls to
decay. Whatever thus belongs to another, as a primitive
to its derivative, must have an unbroken connection with
it as to existence and subsistence ; and if there is con-
nection there is love, which here coincides entirely with
the connection. For love causes that one's own image
may be seen in another, but according to the degree of
derivation, and therefore imperfectly. Love may there-
fore be said to belong to him in whom there is an image
of another, not that he loves himself but that he loves in
another that which he wishes to belong to himself or to
be conjoined to himself, so that, in other words, the love
may be mutual.
(461.) Hence it appears that God is love itself, and
that we are in so far divine as we mutually love God, and
thus by love draw near to Him. And because God is
life itself and wisdom, it follows that we so far live and
are wise as we draw near to God ; hence love is the very
bond itself, the life, and the wisdom. By love and this
connection all those things are in us more perfectly ; and
so far as we remove from it so far are these in us imper-
fectly, and indeed so imperfectly that they can hardly be
said to be in us. Therefore the most absolute and uni-
versal source of all loves is the love of Deity toward us,
LOVES OF THE SOUL. 287
and our mutual love to the God above us, which must be
a love capable of being infinite, while our love of ourselves
ought to be considered, when compared with that super-
eminent love, as the finite compared with the infinite.
This infinite love is not possible, it is true, in our souls
which are finite, but by the mercy of the love of God
toward us it is possible that our love may be exalted
even to an indefinite degree.
288 THE SOUL.
XXII.
THE INFLUX OF THE ANIMUS AND ITS AFFECTIONS
INTO THE BODY, AND OF THE BODY INTO THE
ANIMUS.
(462.) It is well known to every one that our animus
so flows in into the form of our body that it finds its form
as it were in it. We may judge from the countenance
itself what is the general state of the animus, or what its
inclination is, sometimes also as to what are the special
states of the animus, or its affe6lions ; and when these
affections exist they present themselves visibly, not only
in the countenance but also in the eyes, in speech, in
single gestures, and actions. Thus anger, vengeance,
pride, hatred, love, and other affections are recognized by
nature's speech alone ; for what that form is which is su-
perinduced upon the substantial form of the body we do
not learn by any rules of art. Thus the animus, which is
the general form whose affections are so many essential
determinations, is actually inscribed upon us, and it is the
countenance itself in its particulars which is varied ac-
cording to our inclination to this rather than to that special
desire or animus ; also it writes itself there in time, as
when a new inclination is acquired through use and habit.
The animus also flows in into the blood and the animal
spirit itself, and thus into the particular forms of the in-
ternal organs. For it renders the bloods precisely con-
formable to itself, since anger excites the bile and disturbs
the particular humours ; envy retains these in the blood,
whence arises the bluish colour then apparent ; pride ex-
pands the organs, and erects the nerves and muscles, and
INFLUX OF THE ANIMUS. 289
clarifies the blood, at the same time that it draws around
it the clouds that it may be easily shaded. So with the
other affections which flow into the particular organic
substances of the body, and at the same time into the
humours.
(463.) It cannot, therefore, be denied but that the form
of the formed body is the image of the animus, and that
the animus in its first formation, even in the womb, is itself
the form of its own soul ; hence that the body, as to the
expression both of the face and of the actions, is the image,
type, and pattern of the soul or spiritual mind by means
of the animus. For the mind first forms its animus, or it
may be the soul its pure intellectory whose general mind
is what is called the animus, and then flows in into the
body before the body is able to flow in into its animus.
(464.) How this takes place can also be demonstrated ;
but the demonstration itself demands an intimate knowl-
edge of the internal organs of the sensories, a knowledge
of forms in general and in particular, and of the influx of
the spiritual mind into nature. For this is manifest, that
nature is universally subject to a spiritual mind, as an
instrumental cause to its principal, or as an instrument
to the artificer, so that the whole world of nature, from
a certain necessity, and thus spontaneously, assents to
the rule of mind. Thus also the mind rules in the body
formed, in order that the body and its muscles may ex-
hibit every quality, as if not of its own power, but as of
the mind as ruling. Since, accordingly, all the simple
fibres and those thence composed spring from the intel-
lectories and internal sensories of the brain, and there is
nothing in the body which has to do with the form ex-
cept the fibre which forms it, hence it must follow that
all that affection of the intellectories and sensories of the
brain is diffused by continuous fibres into the entire body ;
for there is a continuous connection of all from their ori-
gins and principles.
(465.) The animus is accordingly so inscribed upon
290 THE SOUL.
the form of its body, or is so related to that form, as an
internal is to an external form. That the form is inter-
nal has been shown above. Every internal form has its
proper external form, that is, its figure, which is the limit
or common terminus of its essential determinations ; and
if it be natural for the internal to correspond to the ex-
ternal form it follows of necessity that the countenance
shall indicate what the animus wills, for the countenance
is the external form of the animus, and thus there are as
many expressions as there are viscera and parts. It fol-
lows that the animus cannot help flowing in into its own
body ; but that it may dissemble and deceive is a faculty
derived from the rational mind, which is able to command
the animus itself; of which subject we shall treat further
on.
(466.) On the other hand, experience also shows that
the affections, changes, and diseases of the body are so
likely to flow into the animus that in the course of time
they will alter and transmute the state of its affections.
For a fever, whether burning or otherwise, often excites
the animus into unusual emotions, griefs, and passions,
frequently rousing a mild nature to anger and rendering it
morose. It is known from medical experience that gout
and paralysis produce mental affections, so that from the
changes of the animus are [conversely] constructed prog-
nostic and diagnostic signs, phenomena, and symptoms.
The gall-bladder, or the bile outside of the vessel, being
excited by any cause, the lesser and the greater channels
being obstructed, the animus will experience an ardour
and burning, as also from injuries done to the head or
brain. Indeed, diseases are often so cured by the ragings
of the animus that these very excitements act as its medi-
cines, the worst of criminals sometimes being restored to
the path of virtue through the tortures of the body ; and
so in other cases. The animus is also changed by single
senses, as by sight and smell, and transported into joy,
loves, and other emotions. The reason is very evident
INFLUX OF THE ANIMUS. 29!
from the well known essence and origin of the mind. For
the red blood about to be dissolved always passes over
into fibres by means of the cortex, each cortical gland
being an internal sensory, and each of these containing
its intellectories, and from these intellectories taken all
together, or their affections, arises the animus.
When the blood is infected by some disease, and the
purer blood is at the same time affected, while flowing
through these sensories, it [the infected blood] induces in
them a change of state, so that the animus is unable to
be affected according to a natural influx, for the corre-
spondence itself is varied according to this induced state.
As is a natural effect; following from its causes and princi-
ples, and as is the blood naturally according to its animus,
such it cannot be if the blood do not agree, but the blood
being changed the effect must become altogether another
one.
(467.) But it may be asked whether the intellectory
or the intellectories arising from such a change in the body
are changed radically or interiorly, or only externally or
superficially, so that after that change and purifying of the
blood the animus remains still the same. This is indeed
what experience teaches ; for after the disease the ani-
mus usually returns the same as before, so that such a
change is only superficial and does not alter the internal
form. The examples are very rare of the animus being
radically changed by corporeal causes. Drive out na-
ture with a fork, it will yet come back again .
(468.) But by diseases and similar causes only the ex-
ternal or general form of the animus can be changed, and
not the internal, since only the state of the sensories is
changed, perhaps because the internal sensories, unable
to pass through these or those states, are compelled to
assume others ; for the animus cannot operate except
according to the state assumed by the sensories, as the
animus adapts to itself the states of the sensories. Hence
that state arising from the internal form of the animus
THE SOUL.
abides notwithstanding these external effects, and returns
when the outward change is passed, or after diseases.
(469.) But indeed, in order that the state of the ani-
mus or the intellec"r.ories be changed it is necessary that
it be done through the rational mind ; and even that by
reason of diseases, misfortunes, and similar causes, the
rational mind receives more healthy principles and thus
expels those changes of state and puts on others which
correspond to purer loves. Therefore the human animus
can by no means be changed unless by means of the ra-
tional mind.
THE INFLUX OF THE RATIONAL MIND. 293
XXIII.
THE INFLUX OF THE RATIONAL MIND INTO THE ANI-
MUS, AND BY MEANS OF THE ANIMUS INTO THE
BODY ; AND THE INFLUX OF THE ANIMUS INTO
THE RATIONAL MIND.
(470.) That the animus flows into the rational mind
is clearly seen from experience ; for our rational mind is
possessed wholly as it were by affections of the animus,
since we desire what the animus desires, and rush as it
were blindly or without any understanding into its con-
cupiscences. The cause appears evidently a priori, since
the internal intellectories are what taken together consti-
tute the animus, to whose internal form the external form
must correspond. The external form is the brain or the
common sensory ; as, accordingly, the affection of the ani-
mus is, such is the state of the sensory, for the state of
the sensory puts on that form which agrees with the af-
fections of the mind. So long as this form remains, no
thing else, however grateful or harmonious, can be insin-
uated into the mind unless it agree with this state. The
universal state includes and contains all special and indi-
vidual states. The universal being formed, all the special
states flow into it as harmonious. The intellectories are
what form the change of state agreeably to the loves of
the animus. Thus the animus flows into the state of the
mind. The common animus is the agreement of all the
intellectories according to that influx from the senses and
from the blood ; these form and move the common and
external form to which the internal form corresponds.
294 THE SOUL.
(471.) When, therefore, the rational mind with the
consent of the intellect remains in the state of the animus,
which is that of all the intellectories, then it is blindly
occupied by these flowing in ; but when it dispels these
and rejects the affections of the animus or holds them in
check, then it is enabled to put on more perfect states.
These changes may be brought upon the more rational
mind through sicknesses, and in that case by influx and
by correspondence ; by influx, it may be, because dis-
eases and diverse external accidents may so change the
sensory that it can put on these states rather than those ;
but they are still states of the intellect ; by correspond-
ence, because the mind observes in misfortunes and sick-
ness that the particular passions of the animus, such as
vengeance, anger, envy, hatred, destroy the mind, and
so it is imbued with piety and the virtues. Thus the mind
itself by its own liberty changes the animus according to
the occasion, by reflection and correspondence, and puts
on a state agreeing with more perfect loves ; and so can
the animus or its internal form be changed.
(472.) But to change the animus is to change the nature
itself, as to change a good animus to a bad one, which is
easily done, or a bad to a good one, which is more diffi-
cult. This can only be done by means of the rational
mind and its understanding, let that understanding be
either really its own or one induced by faith or by au-
thority. Nor is the nature changed [even then] unless
we shun and abhor evils, and never bring our mind into
that [evil] state, and unless as often as it falls into it we
snatch it forth with the liberty given us, and put on that
state which agrees with a more perfect love. Nor does
this avail, indeed, unless we remain a long time in this
state, and exert force and violence upon the other, and by
frequent works and exercises of virtue put on the opposite,
and so continue until the mind shall have drawn to itself
a new nature, and expelled as it were the old, so that
as often as the old returns we are aware that it must be
INFLUX OF THE RATIONAL MIND. 295
resisted. Thus and not otherwise can we put off the bad
nature and put on the good, a most difficult attainment
in this life without the Divine grace and aid ; but in the
same degree an end worthy of the greater mind if we ap-
ply ourselves ; and what does not appear to be whole in
us we shall thrice best obtain by prayers to God. So
nature as it were bends and changes nature, not indeed
by influx into the intelle&ories or substances of the mind,
but by correspondence and reflection. For the intellecl-
ory knows truths, or what is true and what is false ; and
as it expels the hatred of truth, then the love of truth
succeeds in its place.
THE SOUL.
XXIV.
INFLUX OF THE SPIRITUAL MIND OR OF THE SOUL
INTO THE ANIMUS, AND OF THE ANIMUS INTO
THE SPIRITUAL MIND.
(473.) The pure intellectory is that in which the ani-
mus at first resides, for it is in this as a pure natural mind.
This, because it is of the intelle6lory, which is formed en-
tirely from the substance of its own soul, must of neces-
sity be also formed after the mind or spirit of its own soul,
so that such as is the soul such shall be the animus in its
very formation, even while lying concealed in the womb
and during earliest infancy. For then indeed the animus is
entirely subject to the spiritual mind ; but afterwards when
the rational mind is formed and the states of the intellect-
ory begin to depend on this state of the sensories, then
begins as it were an inversion, and the animus depends on
an influx of objects and of harmonies through the exter-
nal senses from the world and by the bloods from the
body.
(474.) From these facts it follows that the spiritual
mind flows into the animus, even to being its essence and
life, for this cannot exist and subsist without the spiritual
mind ; wherefore also the spiritual mind always loves the
animus ; but when the animus rebels and wishes to ren-
der itself superior then it is rejected by the spiritual mind,
and a perpetual battle arises, almost as if it were between
God and the Devil. Each desires to occupy the rational
mind, but the victory belongs to but one ; nor can the
animus be expelled suddenly, but there must be persever-
ance even to the end of life.
INFLUX OF THE SPIRITUAL MIND. 297
(475.) When, therefore, the bad animus has been
changed into a good one, or a good into a bad one, thus
as an acquired nature tries to expel the old nature, then
is ±he former animus changed, and the animus being
changed the state of the soul is thereupon changed ;
not by influx, however, but by correspondence, the ra-
tional mind acting as medium and the Divine grace con-
curring. There must be a disposition that the spiritual
mind may be able to flow in with its loves, at least a re-
jection of the loves of the animus ; so that the soul may
be disposed to flow in with its spiritual loves, [or] at least
that the mind may be disposed to the influx of those loves.
The intellect here contributes nothing except it be from
what is revealed ; but faith springing from God, and His
Divine power being implored, His spirit flows into the soul
and changes its state or perfects it. But long exercise is
needed, if the soul be bad, that it may become good ;
although not so long to restore a good soul by a change
of mind. Thus there is a certain election of souls, for with-
out a miraculous and particular favour a bad soul cannot
at once be made good. But there must be a self-compul-
sion and most ardent prayer and continual zeal for that
which is truly spiritual and divine. These appear to be the
true principles for our attainment of spiritual perfection.
For something spiritual and divine flows down from above
into what is below, nor can what is without bring any
change upon what is within except by correspondence,
and such correspondence does not exist in the soul [ex-
cept from the Divine gift].
The Influx of the Spiritual Loves of the Soul into the
Rational Mind, and the reverse.
(476.) The spiritual mind, or what is of the soul, can
never flow into the rational mind except through the
animus or by its means, hence only while the animus is
subject to the spiritual mind. Therefore in order that
298 THE SOUL.
the spiritual mind may flow in the animus must be sub-
jugated, so that it obey and does not command. For
the soul cannot flow into the internal sensory except by
means of the intellectory. Hence we see how the spirit-
ual can flow in ; namely, when the affections of the ani-
mus are wholly submissive and are held in check so as
not to occupy the mind, and when the mind suffers itself
to be afted upon ; and not even now unless the intellect
knows from revelation what part is to be chosen or what
is divine, the verily good, and just, and true. Then in-
asmuch as the mind does not understand this of itself, it
ought to pray to God that He will inspire faith and love,
for obtaining which many spiritual means are revealed.
Thus at length the spiritual mind is able to flow into the
rational mind. For so remote and deeply within dwells
the spiritual mind that it is impossible to approach it
immediately, or except by a universal means or by the
animus. Hence it is evident how difficult it is to turn a
bad soul into a good one, and that this is the work of
Divine grace alone ; only there must be the persevering
human application.
INCLINATIONS AND TEMPERAMENTS. 299
XXV.
INCLINATIONS AND TEMPERAMENTS.
(477.) There are innumerable human natures or inclin-
ations, since no man is similarly inclined with another ;
but all these inclinations, which are infinite in variety,
may be reduced to three general ones, namely, the inclin-
ation of being wise, or to honour or virtues ; the inclination
of knowing, which is an aftive principle and is natural;
and the inclination of understanding, which may be called
intellectual.
(478.) The inclination of being wise, or the spiritual
inclination to what is honourable or virtuous, is derived
from the soul, and indicates a good soul or a spiritual
mind, which is determined by true loves. But since the
body is formed into an image of the operations of the
soul, it follows that this inclination must be connate.
The seeds of honour and the virtues seem to be connate,
and prevail in whole families and their posterity. The
virtues themselves are innumerable. One person inclines
to this virtue in particular or to this virtuous quality,
and another to that. The reason why the inclination ex-
ists is to be sought in the spiritual state itself of the
soul, which state is derived by birth from the parents,
whose soul the progeny inherits ; to the parent, how-
ever, it has come by frequent . exercise of virtues and
the practice of piety lasting to the end of life. That
posterity may obliterate the crimes of parents, and also
on their parents' account may receive reward, is proved
300 THE SOUL.
in all the histories of the world beyond the possibility of
doubt.
(479.) The inclination of knowing, or of learning the
arts, is also inborn, since we are born poets, musicians,
architects, sculptors, and into many other avocations, as
experience proves ; for this [aptitude] is derived from
parents, and is perfected by use. Hence there must be
industry in exploring the natures of particulars even in
boyhood itself, and when any one is perfected in those
things to which he inclines, he may climb to the highest
round, for his desire aspires thither. This inclination de-
rives its origin from the intellectory and its animus, for
the first intellectory is infused by the parent and insin-
uated into the ovum, from which similar ones are pro-
created. This intellectory is more inclined to certain
mutations of state than to others, hence also the sensor-
ies derive their proclivities to certain mutations of state,
that is, to the forming and receiving of certain ideas which
at once delight the animus, since they correspond to its
mind.
(480.) The inclination of understanding. — Some are born
with a prodigious memory, by which they can imitate an
'intellect ; or into a facility of expressing the senses of their
animus ; into a presence of mind ; to meditation or phan-
tasy ; some to judging profoundly even in regard to wis-
dom itself, although they are lacking in wisdom ; some to
certain sciences, as to mathematics, philosophy, history,
and many other branches. This also is derived from the
parent by the same cause, namely, that the senses are
more inclined to putting on these mutations of state
[than others]. But the inmost cause is found in the intel-
lectory, in the mutability of its animus, and in the love
and affection thence arising ; for as it was in the parent
such is it in the offspring.
(481.) But all these inclinations can be changed by
age, both from external and especially from internal
INCLINATIONS AND TEMPERAMENTS. 3<DI
causes, since our intellect is being formed and the rational
mind coming into use. Hence many affections and loves
can be insinuated and become habitual which are handed
down to children by propagation. Nevertheless, the in-
clination of wisdom or the spiritual mind is longest to
remain, because it is more remote from the rational mind,
nor does it accordingly suffer itself to be changed. For
God always inspires and provides its destinies, so that it
shall not perish except it be in its posterity.
Temperaments.
(482.) There are four temperaments enumerated, name-
ly, the sanguine, the choleric, the melancholy, and the
phlegmatic ; these are merely inclinations of the animus
or the diverse animi into which we are born.
The sanguine temperament indicates a state in which
the animus is conspicuously present in receiving sensations
and producing ideas, prone to various affections alike, thus
not tenacious of opinion, easily suited, lively ; this animus
beams forth in the face, eyes, speech, voice, gestures, and
particular a6lions, and a description of it is furnished by
the physiologists.
The choleric temperament indicates an animus not so
prone to pleasures and various desires, but serious, some-
times indignant and morose if another does not favour
one's opinion or one's love, but otherwise with the good
man loving in general what is honourable. The face and
outward form belonging to this temperament are also
described [by these writers].
The melancholic temperament indicates a sad mind, im-
mersed in phantasies, indulging more in internal than in
external feelings, more averse to pleasures, rather an
internal than an external man ; unlike the sanguine tem-
perament, tenacious of opinion, believing in hypotheses
and opinions as truths, and thinking oneself wiser than
302 THE SOUL.
any ; it is vehement in the affections into which it falls,
and increases them by its own imagination ; is a lover of
solitude, or of those companions to whom it is accus-
tomed, and hates variety.
The phlegmatic temperament indicates an animus prone
neither to anger nor to other affections, silent, reticent,
patient, but cherishing an inward ardour, slow in acting,
and so on.
(483.) But these temperaments are not sufficient to
express the changes of the animus, for they are assumed
from the state itself of the blood and from the indications
of the face, since the animus shapes the face to itself as
an image, as it likewise disposes the liquids and the blood,
in order that they may serve or favour itself. Therefore
he who derives this or that nature from habit or from
constitution \natura~\ has his blood disposed to this na-
ture. But inasmuch as the temperaments express only
the external form of the animus, from which some wish
to deduce the internal, I am not therefore certain whether
the inclinations of the animus can properly be reduced to
these genera or species, and whether they exhaust the
specific variations. This is clear, that as diviners they
are very deceitful, and that they change with change of
age. For the blood to which the temperaments belong
is changed in various ways ; as we call this one sanguine
who enjoys a more flowing or delicate blood ; choleric
whose blood is sharper, more bilious, more flecked* and
drier ; melancholic if the blood is more hard and dry ;
and phlegmatic if it be more sluggish and tenacious.
(484.) The animus prone to receiving and giving forth
affections, and consequently to external and internal sens-
ations, is ready and quick, and is called sanguine. But
the animus which is languid toward the internal and ex-
* The editor of the Latin edition is doubtful as to the correctness of the reading
of these adjectives. [7r.
INCLINATIONS AND TEMPERAMENTS. 303
ternal sensations and affections is phlegmatic. The ani-
mus vehement for its passions and internal and external
sensations, is choleric. The animus slow toward the same
is melancholic.
(485.) Thus we are able to draw distinctions in the
animi rather than in the blood, and we may substitute them
for temperaments, for it is the animi that are prone, vehe-
ment, and languid toward passions and affections, and
hence also toward the internal and external sensations,
inasmuch as the sensations follow the animus, as they
cannot be separated from the animus. As is the animus
such is the blood, and such the form of the body and its
forces.
304 THE SOUL.
jpourtj).
IMMORTALITY.
XXVI.
CONCERNING DEATH.
(486.) We have shown above what the body is and
what is its form, or that the body consists of forms in-
ferior, by orderly and successive degrees, to the soul which
is the spiritual form ; thus the body consists of purer and
grosser parts. The form of the soul is spiritual, that of
the intellectory is celestial, that of the internal sensory is
vortical, that of the external sensory or the brain is spiral,
and that of the appendix itself which is properly called
the body is circular. Its bones, cartilages, and similar
parts are of the angular form, likewise the many elements
which enter into the blood and constitute it, in every
globule of which every form is concealed, from the first
one to the last.
(487.) These forms are so connected that one holds
the other most closely, so that they appear like one en-
tity, even though they be most distinct. Thus the soul
is said to descend from its heaven into the world, when
it brings itself into such forms, and shapes its organs out
of itself and its own substance, whose forms at length are
corporeal and material. The cause of this is that the
soul may be able to engage in the functions of this low-
est world, and operate in a manner conformable to its
forces ; since if it did not put on a corporeal form it would
DEATH. 305
never be able to walk upon the earth, to lift weights, to
cultivate the soil, to procreate offspring, and form a ter-
restrial society, but could only live in some sublunary
region. Wherefore the body is formed with a regard to
the performing of these functions, and thus otherwise in
man than in the quadrupeds, reptiles, birds, and fishes.
All are formed according to their nature, to which are
adapted the gifts which each shall exercise.
(488.) The destruction of these ultimate forms is called
dying, and the lowest are those first destroyed, and then
in order the purer and the higher, even up to the soul or
the spiritual form, which cannot be destroyed. First the
angular form is destroyed, or their connection is severed,
and the angular bodies which are in the blood and the
humours are dissipated, wherefore so slight a portion of
the blood is seen remaining in the dead. Afterward the
circular form or the form of the several viscera is de-
stroyed, and also the outward form of the body, which
collapses, then the brain or the spiral form, and so the
remaining ones in their order.
(489.) Any thing is said to die or to be destroyed
when that which is proper to its form perishes or is dis-
solved ; thus the situation and the connection of the parts,
their order, and thence their state, are the peculiar prop-
erty of a thing, and besides these there is nothing which
is proper to any form ; and when these are dissolved then
the form perishes or dies, and then all that affection which
was adapted to it passes away. Thus the soul is no
longer able to perceive those things which agree with
itself, namely, the modifications and affections of the ulti-
mate world and its harmonies, or sensations and the like
impressions, nor to perform the other bodily functions, for
every muscle is destroyed ; and although each motor fibre
may remain, still the property of the muscle as such
perishes, for the situation, connection, order, and state of
its motor fibres are destroyed. The motor fibres may be
dissolved and die, and still the nervous fibres which com-
306 THE SOUL.
posed them remain. On the dissolution and perishing of
the nervous fibres the simple fibres remain, and so on.
So also in the other viscera, and even in the organs. For
as these were successively formed so are they successively
dissolved, or as they are born into life so do they perish
[or are born out of life (denascuntur}\ The lowest forms,
because they are changeable, inconstant, imperfect, and
their determinations less harmonious, are always the first
to die, and so in order up to the foremost. The triangu-
lar form perishes before the circular, the circular before
the spiral ; for there is always something of the perpetual
added or something of the finite and inconstant taken
away as the form ascends. This is the reason why the
dissolution of forms and hence of the body, which consists
of forms of this kind, takes place in this order.
(490.) Hence it follows that more time is required for
the dissolution of any higher form than of a lower, and
more for that of a circular than for that of an angular
form. Thus death proceeds from the external to the
internal man, and the more slowly as the progress is
more to the interiors.
(491.) But let us take the blood as an example. A
globule of this consists of all the forms even to the first
spiritual. The red blood is first dissolved, and the angu-
lar elements are dissipated, which effect takes place imme-
diately ; next the pure blood then remaining is dissolved,
but after considerable lapse of time : then remains that
which properly is called the animal spirit or its individual
part ; this is not readily dissolved because it is a celestial
form. After this remains the soul purified from all that
is earthly.
(492.) Thus by death that is given back to the earth
which was taken from the earth, as whatever was in the
blood and its humours ; and to the air what was likewise
taken from it ; as also to the ether. That remains which
is purely animal, and the animal property, namely, the
soul [anima], which is alone what lives, and lives in the
DEATH. 307
body according to its organic forms. Thence all that
life dies which belongs to that organism, that is, the
external, ultimate, lowest, and inferior life of the soul.
Therefore dissolution is predicated of the organism, and
death of the life of that organism.
(493.) The question arises therefore, What lives die,
or what organic connections are dissolved ? For there are
as many degrees of life as there are degrees of organs.
The life of the tongue is different from that of hearing,
that of the ear different from that of the eye, and that of
the eye from that of the internal sensory which is called
perception. The life of the sensory is, further, different
from that of the intellectory, and that of the intellectory
from that of the soul which is spiritual, and is the all in
the remaining lives in which it lives according to form
and by forms. The forms themselves are called organic,
and they are the substances themselves whose affections
are called sensations.
(494.) In order, therefore, that we may know what
forms are dissolved or what lives die, this is sufficiently
beyond question, that the common life of the body dies,
or that the general nexus of all its parts is dissolved ;
likewise the external sensory organs, touch, taste, smell,
hearing, sight, with organs of each, as also the internal
sensory, with the intelle<5l and the rational mind, that is,
the cortical glands with the changes of their states. For
there was no such intellect in the embryo, hardly any in
the infant, it has increased with age, is completed in the
adult, then decreases in old age, is enfeebled and suf-
fers in disease, and therefore also dies with the body.
This intellect indeed has been acquired, to the end
that the soul by means of it might perceive what goes on
outside of itself, and indeed through the senses, and also
that it might perform those functions which are to be
exercised in this lowest world. When the soul no longer
lives in this ultimate world, nor wishes longer to perceive
what is going on here in these lowest spheres, nor what
308 THE SOUL.
requires to be done in the earth, and in a terrestrial soci-
ety, then with the necessity and the use the faculty itself
perishes and also the organ predestined to this use.*
O how miserable should we be if after death we lived
in a rational mind, with our imperfect intellect, with our
inconstant will governed by so many changing states and
desires, and we ourselves partly spiritual and partly ani-
mal ! Such a mind could equally be changed, and after its
intervals die, in the future as in the present life, for it would
not have changed its nature. Therefore our rational mind
with its desires and affections, and our intellect with its
principles, opinions, and reasonings, die and do not sur-
vive their body.f
(495.) As for the pure intellectory to which belongs
the pure natural mind, this indeed also seems to die or
to be dissolved, but after the longest delay ; for it is a
celestial form, and there are no forms present which can
destroy it ; but how long this continues it is not in our
power to say. As for instance, how this mind or animus
can survive a long time after death, and not be able to
operate, as its common or external form is dissolved, and
it is yet unable to acquire to itself a new form. But this
let us dismiss as something wholly unknown, whether, for
instance, the human animus may survive the life of the
body even to the Last Judgment,^: when its parts are to
* In his subsequent theological writings the Author teaches a very different doc-
trine regarding the relation of the intellect and of the rational mind after death. Not
only are all things, even of the external memory, preserved, but they go to form a
kind of cutaneous covering of the spiritual body after death, preserving its personal
Identity or individuality. This external memory is indeed quiescent, and nothing im-
bibed through the senses in the material world is any longer active except what has
been made rational by reflective use in the world. The cutaneous covering of the
spiritual body consists of certain " natural substances belonging to the mind," which
are taken from the natural world, but which at death recede to the circumference,
and become quiescent and inactive. By " natural substances belonging to the mind,"
and retained after death, we are not to understand material substances, that which
is natural in the order of discrete degrees being not necessarily material in form. On
these points see the Divine Love and Wisdom, no. 257, 388 ; Heaven and Hell, nos.
461, seq. [Tr.
t Compare nos. 508, 525, 536. [Tr.
* Here again is suggested an idea wholly repudiated in the author's theological
DEATH. 309
be resolved into their principles by a most pure element-
ary fire. Into these mysteries, however, let us not pene-
trate.
(496.) But it is asked, Why must the body be dis-
solved, or the corporeal life extinguished? The reason
why this is ordained of the Divine Providence is very evi-
dent if we regard the end of creation, that, namely, there
may be a universal society of souls which shall constitute
heaven, and which would be impossible without a semi-
nary upon the earth, and without the death of those
dwelling therein, and thus a perpetual succession ; as also
in order that souls may be formed in their bodies and re
formed into the eternal state. What is earthly and cor-
poreal cannot be perpetual, because it is changeable in
itself, inconstant, imperfect, and always decreasing. Death
is therefore inseparable from the corporeal life, especially
since it is subje<5l to the will of the rational mind, which
always takes away the corporeal life \guae semper aufert
vitam corpoream\.
(497.) Beside this, the soul never would be able,
without death, to be left to its own right and free will
according to its nature of living ; for it is interwoven in
writings, namely, that of the Last Judgment as occurring at the end of the world, and
as accompanied by a material conflagration. In the True Christian Religion and
in the treatise on The Last Judgment, he teaches that the passages of the Scriptures
treating of the end the world, being written, as all the Divine Word is, according
to the law of correspondence, are to be understood according to their spiritual mean-
ing, and as relating to the end of the first Christian Church or dispensation, owing to
the extinction of its faith and charity; and that the Last Judgment takes place, not
in our material sphere, but in the world of spirits. In the separation of the good
from the evil spirits there, and the inauguration of " a new heaven and a new earth,"
in the sense of a new angelic heaven of those who are saved, and a new Church on
earth of those who believe in the Lord and obey his commandments. In this sense
Swedenborg declares that the " end of the world " has already come, and the Last
Judgment has already taken place, and that the former Christian Church has accord-
ingly reached its end ; and that a new Christian Church is now being formed of those
who receive the Lord in His Second Coming, worshipping Him in His Divine Hu-
manity as the only God of heaven and earth, and endeavouring by a life of faith and
charity combined to keep His commandments. This " Second Coming of the Lord "
is not in person, but it is in the Word, which is from Him and is Himself; and it
is effected by means of a man before whom He has manifested Himself, and whom
He has filled with His Spirit to teach the Doctrines of the New Church through the
Word, from Him" (see Swedenborg's True Christian Religion, no. 776, seq. [7K
3IO THE SOUL.
the body, or is the form of its own body, and so bound
into it that it cannot act otherwise than according to the
ability of those forms which it has attained ; thus it is
most limited, and nothing is left to it but to wish and
desire other conditions. In order, therefore, that the soul
may be left to itself, it is necessary that its ultimate form
be dissolved. Even the soul itself desires often to be
dissolved, especially when the loves of the animus have
driven out the purer loves, and the soul lives as it were
subjugated to the body. Then the soul itself conspires
for the dissolution of the body, and indeed by those ac-
cidents which often befall us unawares and are the causes
of diseases and of death ; but concerning these points
more will be said elsewhere.
These subjects, however, and that of death itself, must
be treated distinctly and in their several divisions, that
they may the better cohere.
IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 31!
XXVII.
OF THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL.
(498.) What the soul is has been defined and de-
scribed above, namely, that it is immaterial, without
extension, or motion, or parts ; hence it contains in itself
nothing that will perish. But these are rather verbal
predications than true definitions, inasmuch as these
names do not suit the higher forms, although they have
something analogous thereto in their meaning. For ex-
cept from analogy one cannot avoid in the above defini-
tion the idea of nothing ; hence we betake ourselves rather
to the form itself of the soul, since it is said that the form
of the soul is spiritual and that in the spiritual form those
things are infinite which are finite in inferior forms. Ac-
cording to this description also every idea of place, thus
of centre and surface, above and below, hence of motion
and extent, perishes or is abolished. This follows from
the idea itself of the form, namely, that it contains no-
thing in it which can perish. For there must be a chang-
ing in the position and connection of parts in whatever
perishes or is destroyed ; and in a form which embraces
no idea of place, centre, surface, or in which the centre
and the circumference and surface are everywhere, de-
struction cannot be conceived of. This form is the very
contrary of destruction, looking only to perpetuity ; and
indeed, the more it is attacked the more it resists every
effort of destruction.
(499.) If we examine forms in their order it appears
that as the form becomes higher, or ascends to something
superior, there is always something of perpetuity added.
1\1 THE SOUL.
Thus in proceeding from the angular to the circular the
circle becomes perpetual, and all the lines and planes
conspire to a certain perpetuity. But since this form,
both by expansion from centre to circumference and also
by resisting the blow of other objects on its surface, either
returns to itself or enters upon some other state, there-
fore lest it, the circular form, should perish by expan-
sion, there is that which is perpetual in the spiral form.
For the coils terminate in a kind of circular surface and
return to it ; and so by expansion, as also by this return-
ing and keeping the unbroken surface in view, this figure
is more sure of permanence. But still, inasmuch as this
spiral figure has regard to a centre, it is yet liable to
destruction. The possibility of perishing is done away
with, however, in the forms still superior, as in the vortical
and celestial ; thus such is the perpetuity in the spiritual
form that, by virtue of its very nature, the form is secure.
For one determination so regards another that each ren-
ders the other entirely safe from every injury. This
results from the form itself, and the perfection in which
it was created.
(500.) Moreover, the spiritual form draws its essence
immediately from God by inspiration, as a child from its
parent ; wherefore it acknowledges Deity or God Himself
as its father immediately in creation, and that it is and
exists from the immortal and eternal itself, and can nei-
ther be destroyed nor become mortal. This is the reason
why the soul is immortal, not from itself but from God,
who alone is immortal in Himself; thus through Him
does the soul become so.
(501.) Since, therefore, the soul is the inmost and su-
preme of all forms, the first natural form itself is beneath
it, and the inferior forms recede even to the angular, as
earth recedes from heaven ; hence the soul can in no wise
be touched, still less destroyed, by these lower forms which
are in nature. Tell me, how can that which is inmost
be destroyed by those things which are without, or that
IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 313
which is supreme by those which are below, or that which
is simple by those which are compound, or what is prior
by what is posterior, or what is most perfect in itself by
things which are imperfect in themselves ? For the im-
perfect derives its ability to exist at all from the perfect
qualities which it contains. That which has in itself the
infinite cannot be touched by the finite, still less destroyed ;
what is constant in itself cannot be destroyed by what
is inconstant. The very superior forms themselves, es-
pecially the spiritual, are able to undergo infinite changes
of their state, since in this their perfection consists. If we
suppose any attack, collision, or the like to take place,
such as occurs in inferior forms, then its state is able to
be changed in any manner, and even to return to its nat-
ural state ; comparatively as the natural substances which
are most elastic can be bent and unbent, expanded and
compressed, and still return to their own form. Thus as
they are acted upon so they act, and hence cannot be
forced by any power or shock out of their natural state.
(502.) Hence it now follows that nothing terrestrial
can by any means touch the soul, whether it be what
flows in air, ether, or fire, nor anything atmospheric, not
even the most pure fire of nature. All these are far be-
low the soul and have no conta6t with it, nor if they did
could they exercise the least force, for the soul is safe in
its own form. This also is evident in the body itself,
where there is so great a disturbance of the most volatile
parts taken up from the earth, the aerial atmosphere, and
the ether, but still these do not disturb or injure even the
least organic connection, place, or order. Myriads of the
substances such as belong to the soul might meet in the
smallest angular form. It would be like saying that a
large beam might split in two a single particle of some
ether, when the fact is that myriads of such [ether] parti-
cles touch so obtuse a mass, and even permeate its pores ;
or as if you should say that the posts and beams of a house
would extinguish the abstractive and directive force of
314 THE SOUL.
the magnet, when this flows through the metals them-
selves and all things. Such would be the injuring or the
obstructing of the operation of the soul or spirit by those
things which are the most minute angular forms of nature,
or fire. For the magnetic force itself pervades even fire
and flame, although in vortical forms. What then must
not the soul be capable of which possesses a form above
the celestial ?
(503.) Besides, it is contrary to nature that that can
be destroyed which is without weight or lightness, or
which does not resist any weight, but acts according as it
is a6led upon, or where a6lion and passion exactly corre-
spond. But what agent can there be to destroy the soul ?
since there can be none without or below it, for such
things do not touch it ; and in order to destroy the deter-
minations themselves of the soul the agent must at least
reach them and touch them. But that also which is
above does not destroy the soul, for this is divine ; this
preserves rather than destroys, and all the more surely
since human souls are the ends of creation, and constitute
the kingdom of God. Nor indeed does that which is
within destroy the soul, but it rather preserves it, as has
been said above of form, — showing how this protects it-
self.
(504.) Spiritual death, however, is not the destruction
of essence and of life, but of the better life itself, inasmuch
as the soul is removed from the love of God, from wis-
dom, felicity, and perfection, and has ceased to be the
image of God; and in heaven this constitutes spiritual
death. For life itself consists of the truly spiritual loves ;
and when these are extinct, and in their place the con-
trary loves succeed, or hatreds, then that is said to be dead
which truly lived. Truly to live is to love God and to be
wise. In such life remains that form itself, and that essence
itself which cannot perish. But there is only a perversion
of state, or the state of the form is so changed that it
no longer corresponds with the divine loves, and thus that
IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL 315
image of God is lost which requires a state conformable
to its loves.
(505.) But it is asked why the life itself appears to
die and be destroyed with our body, or what appears
to be the life itself, rather of the body indeed than of the
soul — as in the case of swoonings and ecstasies, dreams,
drownings, the buried coming to life, embryonic existence,
and other instances, where the subjects are entirely ignor-
ant, after their resuscitation into the bodily life, that they
have been living meanwhile. No sign remains impressed
on their memory of what they have thought, or indeed
of their having thought at all. From these and similar
examples it appears as if life were merely corporeal and
not at all of the soul.
(506.) But in these as in innumerable other instances
we are deluded by appearances ; for the life of the soul is
not like that of our sensation or perception, or even like
that of our thought, but is more perfect and superior,
flowing into the thought itself, and perfecting it in order
that the mind may think. But the thought itself is some-
thing that is learned by practice ; it is a faculty of the
rational mind, and it perishes together with the body. What
the pure life and intelligence of the soul is, and how it
flows into the thought, may appear from reflection alone,
in that, namely, the soul naturally enters into all the se-
crets of any knowledge when it operates in the body, and
in the sensations and thoughts ; this knowledge being not
acquired by the soul, but inborn, and flowing in from the
life of the soul. Does not the eye explore all the se-
crets of optics, the ear those of acoustics, in order to
know of itself and of its own nature how to form sounds
and how to put together what shall be harmonious ? Does
not even a little boy, whenever he thinks or forms a judg-
ment, or speaks, traverse all the first philosophy, logic,
dialectics, grammar, and so forth, yea, the most hidden
things of these sciences ? Thus it is that we learn from
ourselves all this knowledge. When the soul acts or pro-
316 THE SOUL.
duces the least action, or moves a muscles, it runs through
all chemistry, mechanics, mathematics, and physics. Hence
may appear what the life of the soul is in itself, namely,
that it is such as it is of itself; it is not something ac-
quired by learning, like the knowledge of the rational
mind whence come imagination and thought. Therefore
the inmost life or essence of thought derives its origin
from the soul, and thus thoughts may be withdrawn, and
still the life of the soul or the highest spiritual intelli-
gence remain.
(507.) Since the life of the soul is such as we have de-
scribed, it cannot leave any impress on our rational mind;
for it is an intelligence so universal, pure, simple, and
superior, that its thought cannot be exercised by means
of words or material ideas in the manner that we think ;
hence it can neither impress the sensory, nor in the absence
of the ideas of memory induce any change in it. Inas-
much, therefore, as the soul in such wise shapes its ideas
without speaking words, but rather understanding inward-
ly those things which the mind speaks or thinks, it follows
that this life of the soul can least of all impress anything
of its memory on the mind, which understands things only
in the crudest manner [comparatively].
(508.) But that this very life [of the soul] is our own,
yea is the life of the body itself, and that we are to return
into it after the dissolution of the body, is apparent from
this, that the soul is that which experiences sensation,
namely, it hears, it sees, it perceives, it thinks, judges,
wills, but according to an organic form, and not otherwise.
This also is vividly shown in that the soul does not seem
to live separately [from its bodily organs] except as these
external forms are successively destroyed ; thus the sight
appears as if it were in the eye, but the eye being closed
we still see with a sight, and the more the eye is
closed the more the internal sight and imagination are
perfected ; and so much is this the case that the external
sight may be rather a hindrance than otherwise to the
IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 317
internal sight. Likewise the imagination and thought
seem so to cohere that without the imagination the
thought would seem to perish ; but yet in order to think
profoundly, and to enter inmostly into things themselves
it is necessary to remove the material ideas of the imagin-
ation, or to abstract the mind from material things, since
only thus can we think purely. This comes by abstrac-
tion ; thus the thought returns and is separated as it were
from its external form. Such thought also leaves almost
no impress whatever on the internal sensory, except so
far as it has become fixed in some material idea or figure.
When, now, this entire material idea recedes, there remains
the life of the soul, which can make no impression on the
sensory. Nor does it put itself forth as it is, in the em-
bryo or infant ; although it is possessed of just as much
intelligence in the smallest infant as in an adult mind of
the acutest judgment ; but it is unable to put itself forth
except so far as the rational mind is furnished with ideas
of the memory, by means of which it may express itself.
(509.) Such is the life of the soul unmixed with ig-
norance, having no imperfection, having all knowledge
in itself, so that it may be knowledge itself, truth, order,
and intelligence. As such it can by no means perish ;
nature which is destructible is subject to it, and so the
life of that form seems to die. The veriest life of the soul
is the veriest life appertaining to us ; and it does not come
to itself so that we may be conscious of it before all that
life of the forms which are below itself, and in which it
has been involved, has receded.* These the soul itself
destroys in order that it may free itself from their chains,
and be restored to its own right and freedom of acting ; for
just as the soul knows how to form its own body, one vis-
cus after another, how to escape from the womb, how to
* Observe the use of this term by the author in Divine Love and Wisdom, no. 257,
referred to in note to no. 494. Here, however, the author teaches that the "receding"
forms are destroyed by the emancipated soul ; whereas according to the subsequent
doctrine they are retained, although quiescent. [ Tr.
318 THE SOUL.
nourish itself at the breast, and many other things, even
as the caterpillar knows how to transform itself into the
butterfly, and to destroy its pristine form, so also does
the soul know how to destroy its own forms, to restore
itself to liberty, and thus to migrate from this dying, im-
perfecT:, and inconstant life to that which is immortal ;
and this could not take place without the death of the
body's life.
(510.) From these very operations of the soul it may
be seen what its form is ; for the soul is that very sub-
stance in which form has its being ; its intelligence is that
distinguishing faculty and quality of the forces and mod-
ifications [which we call form]. Thus from form, and also
from intelligence itself, it may be deduced and clearly seen
that the soul is immortal.
STATE OF THE SOUL AFTER DEATH. 319
XXVIIL
OF THE STATE OF THE SOUL AFTER THE DEATH OF
THE BODY.
(511.) Every one desires to know what will be the
state of the soul after death. There is no one who does
not conjecture that the future state will be such as was
that of the bodily life, or that which was lived in the ra-
tional mind ; for who that has not in his mind penetrated
into the degrees of life can conceive that there is any su-
perior, more perfect, universal, or abstract life [than that
in the rational mind] ? They are few who deny any con-
tinuance of that life which they attribute to the soul and
to the animus ; the wise men of the gentile nations un-
animously believed in this surviving of the soul, as may
be seen from the Greek authors, the Sophists, Plato,
Aristotle, as also from Cicero and all the rest ; besides,
in order to place this doctrine beyond all chance of doubt,
Pythagoras and Socrates even have attempted to describe
the state of the soul after death. We Christians, still
better informed out of the sacred Scriptures, not only be-
lieve in the immortal life of the soul, but also that there
is a happy state or heaven, and an unhappy state or hell.
But let us pursue the psychological principles propounded
by us in their order, and set forth what these principles
dictate.
(512.) It is the common opinion that at once, after the
death of the body, the soul is separated and flies away
and leaves its corpse. But when we consider that the
universal form of the body exists only from the one sub-
32O. THE SOUL.
stance, the soul, or from the soul (for there is nothing
which does not begin with the simple fibre, and the sim-
ple fibre is from the simple cortex, and so on) ; and since
the soul is the real essence and substance from which is
the universal organic form of the body, and thus the all
in every part, and residing as it were inmostly and in the
centre of all, even in the blood itself, whose principal
essence is the soul which is in it, it follows that the
whole soul does not fly from the body in the moment in
which the life of the body is extin6t, but that it remains
so long as there are any parts not dissolved in which it
inheres. This is proved by many instances of those who
some days after their funeral rites have been performed
have come to life again, and continued a life of years
among mortals, as the historians tell us. There are those
also who have been suffocated in drowning or in con-
striction of the throat, and after days have revived. Mean-
while the soul cannot have left the body, and when the
obstructions are removed, the water discharged, the soul
re-enters at once its abode. There are also those who
resemble the dying in undergoing swoons, syncope, and
like attacks, when nevertheless the soul does not depart,
but remains and lives although the body be as it were
extin6l. There are also many examples even in the sa-
cred histories, of its being forbidden to violate the bodies
and bones of the dead, so that they may remain in peace
and not be dispersed. Samuel also was resuscitated ; and
many other instances are related in both sacred and pro-
fane history. We know as it were from an innate sense,
or as if the soul itself dictated it, that if the bones of the
dead are disturbed their shades will confront the violators ;
and about such occurences also many stories are told.
The religion, too, of some people has been to kiss, ven-
erate, and beseech the bones of heroes and saints in order
that these may give or procure aid. These things^ would
be the merest vanities if the soul should go forth entirely
from the body, and only that which is terrestrial re-
STATE OF THE SOUL AFTER DEATH. 321
main.* Meanwhile, from the tenor of our arguments it fol-
lows that the soul which procreates the form itself of the
body and of its parts, as also the blood and the animal spirit,
can by no means be released from its bonds until the lower
and more changeable forms be first dissolved. Although
it is not to be denied that much of the soul may be dis-
solved from its bonds, still it is not on this account sep-
arated. It is contrary to the nature of spirits that those
substances which are born and made for the completion of
one system should be separated. What is interwoven with
other parts may indeed be separated ; still although dis-
solved from those bonds it appears that entire separation
from all bonds is impossible before the intervention of a
most pure elementary fire, or until the conflagation of the
world.f
(513.) But it is asked, What kind of a life is that
which the soul lives while it still remains in the dead
body, the order, arrangements, and connection of whose
organic parts is wholly destroyed ? That life must neces-
sarily be a most obscure one, or merely life without in-
telligence. This appears from the mere definition of
intelligence. All intelligence supposes not only an in-
ternal form and change of state in the single sensories
and intellectories, but also an external form of these par-
ticulars, or one enabling them to preserve a mutual
arrangement and order. This order being destroyed
among the particulars, and with it their arrangement
and connection, the communication of forces, modifica-
tions, and affections at once ceases ; but there succeeds
a certain irregularity from which results a certain kind of
life, not distinct and determined, but confused and ob-
scure, which may be named barely life without intelli-
* The author's subsequent teaching on this point in his theological writings is
quite different. That the separation of the spirit from the body takes place instantly
when the respiration and systolic motion of the heart have entirely ceased, see
Heaven and Hell, no. 446. [ TY.
t See note to no. 495. [ Tr,
322 THE SOUL.
gence. To understand \intelligere\ is to live distinctly
and according to a form not of particulars only, but one
entirely consentaneous, which form is the reason. For
our intellect is at once disturbed when the situation and
connection of the sensory or cortical glands are disturbed,
as we learn from the accounts of diseases of the head.
The sight is destroyed or weakened by the disturbance
of the fibrous or liquid parts. The case is like that of
colours when all the colours are mingled together with
water, or when an infinite number of prisms and of the
smallest irregular bits of glass are mixed together ; there
is then no distinct or beautiful colour, but only a white-
ness resulting, which is the conflux of all.
(514.) But when the organism is not yet destroyed or
its order disturbed, there then remains a distinct life of
the soul, as in the embryo, although the soul cannot es-
tablish a communication between its universal mind and
intelligence and its rational mind, for reasons above giv-
en ; hence no memory of itself remains after its resusci-
tation.
(515.) But indeed, the substance of the soul, freed
from its corporeal bonds, seems to live a distinct life,
and indeed, all the more distinct for being liberated from
these its hindrances. For these most individual entities
form a society among themselves, and institute a most
distinct order, being left to their own liberty and awaiting
companions ; for the greater the society the more perfect
is the life. Whoever has lived longest, in him has the
society, forming a unanimous body, become so much the
largest.
(516.) Inasmuch as the soul is distinguished most
completely into substances of a spiritual form, it may be
believed that the individual substances or forms will after
dissolution become dissipated, and never again unite into
the society of any one body. Such an opinion, however,
arises from ignorance regarding the world and its purer
nature, and that of purer beings. For we believe that
STATE OF THE SOUL AFTER DEATH. 323
there is a something which remains when the little bodily
particle is resolved into smoke, vapour, dust and ashes ;
but an entirely different process ensues from this. In that
supreme, most pure, and perfect world, or that where na-
ture is simple and prime, we cannot conceive of a dis-
junction of those beings which by virtue of their mutual
harmony and likeness belong to a single body. Each
living and spiritual substance of the soul recognizes its
companion in the body as its own, nor can it live in mu-
tual consort with any other. Nor does anything prevent
their coming together, for there is no space, place, or
time to disjoin them ; these conditions all belonging to an
inferior nature, and not to the supreme. Place exists re-
spectively to lower beings in whose relations there is an
upper and a lower, or right and left, a centre, surface,
a diameter, thus in order that there may be a where.
But in the supreme world, all respect of place is from soul
to soul, since these are entirely distinct from each other ;
nor can these substances of the soul be separated, for one
recognizes, feels, knows the other, even if it were as far
off respectively as the sun from the earth, or star from
star. When, indeed, such gross organs of vision as the eye
can reach even from the earth to the sun and stars, what
may not the the sight of the soul, the intelligence, in-
clude, capable as it is of being named a spiritual sym-
pathy ?
Since nothing prevents the coming together again of
these substances of the soul, it is therefore only our ignor-
ance of the purer world which deceives us, and suggests a
dissipation which in that world is an impossibility. Es-
pecially since the omnipresence of the Divine Spirit acting
upon all souls cannot suffer that anything pertaining to
any one should be separated. For there is a Spirit which
unites all things beneath itself, joining the concordant,
disjoining the discordant, and so collecting together all
souls. This follows of necessity, since if we consider the
influx of this universal Spirit, it cannot do otherwise than
324 THE SOUL.
join together all things that have respecl: to one body,
and vice versa.
(517.) When similar phenomena occur in the world
and in the lower and less perfect nature, why not in the
superior and most perfect ? For there nothing exists
which is irregular, but only that which is most harmonious,
concordant, and united. It is well known that shrubs,
plants, flowers, roses, burned to dust are brought to life
again in water, their vegetative lives or spiritual essences
being as it were excited anew by some means. The very
figure itself being thus excited, if by the breaking of the
vessel it falls back into its ashes it yet again revives ;
and thus sometimes these parts cannot be so disjoined
and separated but that they will come back into their
pristine form, and unite again in their ancient friendship
and habit after these vicissitudes, and indeed in such wise
that they unite again into exactly their first form. Why
then should not human souls do likewise after the de-
struflion of the body ?
(518.) I need not speak of those manifest sympathies
also recognized in this lower world, which are so numerous
as to forbid their being rehearsed. So great is this sym-
pathy and this kind of magnetism that it may often be
communicated among thousands of persons. These phe-
nomena are, however, by some reckoned as mere idle
tales ; still experience itself establishes their truth, nor
would I care to relate that the shades of certain ones
after the death and obsequies of the body have become
visible, which thing could never have happened (even
admitting the facl:, which I do not,) unless the animal
spirit were mutually conjoined, and not separated from
their common fellowship. At least such a bond and love
intervene between the constituent parts of the body it-
self that these preserve a mutual relation and can not be
separated ; and this, too, is the reason of the mutual love
of those who love as to the body.
(519.) That every substance of the soul associates to
STATE OF THE SOUL AFTER DEATH. 325
itself another such substance is evident from the love of
parents toward their offspring, whose soul the parent, be-
cause he knows it to be taken from his own, so inwardly
knows and loves that he wishes again to be joined to it
and to enter into it, which he endeavours in vain to do by
kisses and embraces. What, then, will not the several
parts of the universal soul of one body desire ?
(520.) Meanwhile this must be confessed, that the
soul of one would never be distinct from that of another
if the state of the one were absolutely similar to that of
the other. But since it is provided that there shall al-
ways be some difference between souls, therefore they
cannot be conjoined, but each soul must form its own
body and must live its own life. Thus one soul knows
the fellow substance which belongs to itself and its own
system, and so, drawn by a certain sympathetic love, it is
unable to unite itself with any other substance, for that
is not its own, and cannot be united with itself into one
body. A universal Divine providence therefore reigns in
distinguishing particulars from particulars, so that no one
soul shall be precisely like another.
(521.) But it is asked, What is to be the form of the
soul in heaven, whether similar to the bodily form, or
another which is called angelic ? and then, whether the
angelic form is like the human form ? This indeed I do
not think, that we are to put on the human form.* For
* How entirely contrary this is to the author's subsequent teaching may be seen
from the following extracts from the work on Heaven and Hell, nos. 453, 456, and
461:
" THAT MAN AFTER DEATH is IN A PERFECT HUMAN FORM
Although the spirit is in a human form it does not appear to man [in this world] after
its separation from the body, nor is it seen while living in the world, because the eye,
the organ of bodily sight, is material ; but that which is material sees nothing but
•what is material, and that which is spiritual sees what is spiritual. When, therefore,
the material principle of the eye is veiled and deprived of its co-operation with the
spiritual, spirits become visible in their own form, which is the human form ; not only
spirits who are in the spiritual world but also the spirits of men while they are alive
in the body."
" That the spirit of a man after its separation from the body is itself a man, and
in the form of a man, has been proved to me by the daily experience of many years ;
326 THE SOUL.
such a form exists solely for use in the lowest world. In
heaven, souls are like birds, nor do they have intercourse
with any earth ; they have no need of feet or arms, hence
neither of muscles, that is, of flesh and bones, for they are
spirits; nay, they require neither the red blood, nor ven-
tricle, nor intestine, nor mesentery ; for these things be-
long to the reception of food, to chylifaction, to nutrition,
for I have seen, heard, and conversed with spirits thousands of times, and have even
talked with them on the general disbelief that spirits are men, and have told them,
that the learned call those foolish who think so. The spirits were grieved at heart
that such ignorance should still continue in the world, and especially that it should
prevail within the church, and said that this infidelity originates chiefly with the learn-
ed, who think of the soul according to their corporeal sensual apprehensions, and thus
conclude that it is mere thought which.when viewed without any subject in and from
which it exists, is like a volatile breath of pure ether which cannot but be dissipated
when the body dies ; but since the church, on the authority of the Word, believes in
file immortality of the soul, they are compelled to ascribe it to some vital principle
like thought, although they deny it a sensitive principle such as man has, until it is
again conjoined to the body. This is the foundation of the prevailing idea concerning
the resurrection, and of the belief that the soul and the body will again be united at
the time of the Last Judgment ; and hence when any one thinks about the soul from
this doctrine and hypothesis he does not conceive it to be a spirit in a human form ;
and, indeed, scarcely any one at this day understands what a spiritual principle it,
and still less that spiritual beings — angels and all spirits — are in the human form.
Almost all, therefore, who pass out of this world into the other are astonished to find
themselves alive, and that they are men equally as before ; that they can see, hear,
and speak ; that they enjoy as before the sense of touch, and that there is no discern*
ible difference whatever."
"A spirit enjoys every sense, both external and internal, which he enjoyed in the
world ; he sees as before ; he hears and speaks as before ; he smells and tastes as be-
fore ; and when he is touched he feels as before ; he also longs, desires, wishes, thinks,
reflects, is affected, loves, and wills, as before ; and he who is delighted with studies,
reads and writes as before. In a word, when man passes from one life into the other
it is like passing from one place to another, for he carries with him all things which
he possessed in himself as a man, so that it cannot be said that death deprives man of
anything truly constituent of himself, since death is only the separation of the terres-
trial body. The natural memory also remains, for spirits retain everything which
they had heard, seen, read, learned and thought in the world, from earliest infancy to
the end of life ; but since the natural objects which are in the memory cannot be re-
produced in the spiritual world they are quiescent, as is the case with man in this
world when he does not think from them ; nevertheless they are reproduced when the
Lord pleases Sensual men cannot believe that such is the state of man after
death, for the sensual man cannot do otherwise than think naturally even about spirit-
ual things ; whatever therefore is not palpable to bodily sense, that is, whatever he
does not see with his eyes nor feel with his hands, he affirms has no existence."
Regarding the great difference which nevertheless exists between the life of the
two worlds and between the senses and their affections in each, see Heaven and Hell,
nos. 462, 126, 235.
See, however, Appendix A, Thesis xii., where the doctrine of the human form of
ed spirits seems to be already clearly maintained by our author.
STATE OF THE SOUL AFTER DEATH. 327
the making of blood, and similar uses. Nor is there need
of heart, inasmuch as there is neither red blood, nor liver,
nor pancreas, nor spleen. Neither are there teeth, jaws,
throat, trachea, lungs, nor tongue ; there is no use of air,
of respiration, speech, digestion ; neither ear nor eye, for
where there is no air there is no sound, and where no
earth exists, there is no vision, nor could this be of any
use. Even the members of the brain, with the menin-
ges, and the medullae oblongata and spinalis, will there
be of no use ; with the use itself perishes all necessity for
their being. For what use could the generative organs
exist ? All these things will serve for no use as soon as
we become spirits and angelic forms. Hence it would
appear that the soul is not to receive that form which is
imperfect and not celestial ; unless, as some hold the
opinion, there shall be created a new earth and a new
atmospheric heaven into which we shall be admitted like
new inhabitants.
(522.) But it is asked, What form shall we have ? This
we can no more know than the silkworm, which when a
miserable worm crawls over its leaves, but after its long-
endured labours is turned into an aurelia and flies away
a butterfly. It does not know that it is to have an en-
tirely different body which shall agree with the atmo-
sphere in which it is to live ; it does not know that it will
take on wings and be provided with members adequate
to that [new] life. And so with ourselves. We are
grossly ignorant about the nature of that purest aura
which is called .celestial, and in which souls are to live,
being completely furnished with such a form that, like
birds in our atmosphere, they may everywhere traverse
their spaces and fly through universes and heavens, their
members and their form being exactly adapted to that
life. Therefore until we know what that aura is, and what
life we are to live in it, we are wholly unable to say what
form we shall put on. This only may be said, that our
future form is not to be such as this present one, but
328 THE SOUL.
rather the most perfect of all ; a form into which we shall
be changed as nymphae and aureliae are changed to more
perfect forms ; a form to which our souls also aspire, and
for this reason often would accelerate the death of the
body ; for this aspiration is inborn in the soul, and is not
communicated to the body.
(523.) In the meanwhile, when the soul is left to itself,
and is no longer connected with the organic forms neces-
sary for the pursuit of the corporeal life there, it seems
to be able to put on any form it may wish. So that if it
should descend from heaven to earth, in a moment it might
take the human form ; for universal nature is so formed
that it shall serve the spiritual life as an instrumental
cause, so that it at once flows into conformity whenever
the soul commands. Just as in the body, for the soul or
spirit commands according as this or that act may agree
with its will, and at once the body submits and hastens
to obey. The soul wishes to view the visible world, at
once the eye is shaped for every form of modification ; it
wishes to hear, and at once the wonderful organism of the
ear exists ; it wishes to walk, to fly, to swim, at once are
provided the feet, the wings, the fins ; and so with infinite
other desires and capacities. Nay, the soul of the infant
is often affected by the strong desire or by the fear of the
soul of the mother in such a way that according to this
single impression, a mouse, a frog, a rose, or other object
appears upon the part of the body touched. These are
evidences that nature readily hastens to obey when the
soul commands. Accordingly after death, when dissolved
from these organic bonds, whatever form it wishes as
agreeing with its state, it would seem capable of assuming.
If, therefore, it should descend to earth, at once it would
put on the human form ; nay, if occasion should require
any other animal form, to will this would be all that is
necessary, everything else follows of itself. Nor would
these be miraculous occurrences, for it would be no more
contrary to nature than that one form out of an egg should
STATE OF THE SOUL AFTER DEATH. 329
put on a human form, or should in the skin show the
mark of the dormouse, or similar impressions made during
the tender period of growth. The soul is constituted in
freedom of determination, nor is it any longer limited as
on earth. It can likewise put off that form, and dissipate
it in an instant ; yea, it can present a burning countenance
and the like, as in the recorded appearances of the cheru-
bim and the seraphim, and [the angels appearing to the]
shepherds. The reason is that the whole form is from the
soul, the very elements being at once assumed out of the
surrounding atmospheres, and disposed in its intellectories
and organs.
(524.) For even these essential determinations of the
form depend on their action and interior principle within,
in the soul. The soul is not carried away with the affec-
tions of any animus into these or those impulses, but
solely into the uses which are necessary. To love novel-
ties, varieties, curiosities, is natural to the animus and
also to the rational mind ; for to these there is nothing
which is not unknown. Not so with the soul, from which
nothing is hidden. Wherefore it is never carried away
by curious desire. It follows as a consequence that the
soul forms for itself its intellectories, which it disposes in
harmonious order, since without arrangement and subor-
dination, and co-ordination, nothing intellectual can be
carried on ; and therefore it also follows that the form of
the body is purely a celestial one,* such as is the intel-
loctory ; but as to whether it be a vortical form, this in-
deed we may surmise, although these are among the
secret things, and at best but mere conjectures. If any
one sees them, reason alone has convinced him of them.
When we live as souls perhaps we ourselves shall laugh
at what we have guessed at in so childish a manner.
* " The form of the spirit is human, because man as to his spirit was created to be
a form of heaven ; for all things of heaven and its order are collated into those which
appertain to the mind of man. The human form of heaven is derived from the Di-
vine Human of the Lord " (Heaven and Hell, no. 454). \Tr.
330 THE SOUL.
(525.) It is not to be believed that in our soul-exist-
ence we shall be wise in the same manner as while we
were living in our rational mind or human intellect, in
which there is always, however, more of ignorance than
of understanding. This mind, or our thought, as it ap-
pears to us, becomes entirely extin6l, and the life of the
soul remains, which is ignorant of nothing, but of itself
knows everything ; wherefore it is science itself and pure
intelligence, which however does not speak or express its
meaning by voice or words, these being so many material
ideas, but it embraces at once everything which pertains
to the subject of thought. For the intelligence of the
soul is the same in the infant as in the adult and aged ;
it is what flows into our thought and makes us able to
understand and philosophically to connect together all
things which we think. Wherefore after death there is
no such impure intellect ; but when the soul flies away
from the body it is like going from a dense shade into
the open sunlight or coming out of a dark dungeon into
the city of Rome, or into the whole world, or like a blind
man being restored to sight. For the truths of our mind
are mere hypotheses, fallacious principles, appearances,
opinions, and the like ; but those of the soul are the veri-
est truths themselves.
(526.) But the soul, being pure intelligence and a spir-
itual essence, is above all sciences and doctrines ; for these
are natural, and stand still or go groping around far be-
neath. The soul knows the secret things of these sci-
ences, which can never be penetrated by the mind, although
always approached. For the mind is no more able to
utter these hidden things than algebra its series of infi-
nites expressed by the differential calculus in a long se-
ries, and incapable of reduction by the integral calculus.
Therefore as to its state of intelligence one soul is pre-
cisely like another.
(527.) But as regards its state of wisdom, one soul is
never absolutely similar to the soul of another. For one
STATE OF THE SOUL AFTER DEATH. 331
has within it more perfect and purer loves ; it loves God
above itself, and its neighbour as itself, thus the soul of
one is ruled by Divine love ; but that of another loves
contrary things and hates what the former loves, and
thus is rather to be called diabolical. From the study
of spiritual loves it is manifest how far souls may differ.
Therefore there are divine souls or those belonging to
the divine society, and there are those which are diabol-
ical belonging to the infernal society. All nevertheless
enjoy the most perfect intelligence of the good and the
true, but are affected with either the love or the hatred
of these.
(528.) This nature souls derive in the corporeal life,
and indeed by means of the rational mind. For the soul
is then in the process of being formed into a good or evil
state, but not into the intelligence of the true and the
good. How the soul is affected has already been shown,
and also what divine means ought to concur for improving
and perfecting the state of the soul, for rendering it more
complete and restoring to it its first divine image. But
still when the body has left and the rational mind has
become extinct, then the human soul has been formed ;
and so much and of such quality as it is it remains for-
ever. For nothing can be present to improve it more.
There is no influx from a changeable mind, or one that
may be perfected or depraved. The rational mind alone
is capable of this. There is no struggle between it [the
soul] and the animus, or between the loves of each, thence
no hope of victory. The intelligence is pure and most
perfect ; there is therefore no changeableness in it, by
which another state of the soul might be brought on. It
is not annexed to any organic form which it obeys ; in a
word, such as it is it remains forever, particularly as re-
gards its loves and spiritual aversions, consequently as to
eternal felicity or unhappiness.
(529.) Nor can this prevent the soul's knowing every
thing which its mind ever experienced in the body, or
332 THE SOUL.
which the soul by means of the mind may have acquired
in the world while an inhabitant of it. Since the intelli-
gence is pure it follows of necessity that it shall know again
and be conscious of the particular things which are in
every verity and in every goodness ; for otherwise it would
not be a pure intelligence, but rather a confused ignorance.
From the changes of its own state or from its acquired
state itself, it knows all causes, infinite as they are ; for
there is not the least aft voluntarily done but that the
will, the desire, and the end of it has affected the soul,
and in some way contributed to its state, and hence from
its own state the soul knows every cause; it knows most
perfectly that which in its own rational mind has been
operating as a cause ; and it also sees beforehand most
perfectly what to expect, whether the happy or the un-
happy.
(530.) Therefore it enjoys the memory of the past ; not
such as is the memory and reminiscence of our sensory,
which is given up to material ideas and images, but such
as is pure and most perfect, so that not the least moment
of the past life is hidden from it, not even a word which
has contributed to the changing of its state. For all this
the soul understands, not from any memory but from its
own actual state, since all things past are present to it ;
yea, even in natural things, where is the connection of
causes and of contingencies there is the presence of all
future things; this flows from the intellect alone, which
is the pure intelligence.
(531.) The soul itself cannot change its own state
any better then the body its deformed countenance, dis-
torted mouth, its humped back, or the muscle causing the
distortion or bringing on the change of state ; all this in-
heres as a natural [deformity] in the body ; and the more
it wishes to mend itself the more it becomes deformed, so
is it affected by its self-consciousness.
(532.) In the meantime, the soul possessed of such a
state of intelligence cannot otherwise than know every
STATE OF THE SOUL AFTER DEATH. 333
thing which takes place in the heavens and earths ; in
the heavens by the communication of operations which
cannot be otherwise than most perfect, when there exists
in this life such a communication of minds and a kind of
sympathy between friends and relatives. Granting such
a communication of souls this also can be described ; for
the soul is occupied with its perpetual intuition of things
past and present at the same time, and the celestial aura
and common spirit of all things intervenes, which makes
it impossible for the operations of one soul not to be com-
municated to another, since otherwise without commun-
ion there would be no connection of souls by love. This
may be compared with our bodily hearing and vision ; for
there are auras and atmospheres which communicate to
any distance things which occur most remotely, yea, the
sight even takes in objects proceeding from the sun. Why
should not the soul, which is pure intelligence, perceive
the particular things which go on in other souls where-
ever they are ? Such a communion as this is a logical
consequence resulting from the celestial aura, when its
existence is admitted, and from the Divine spirit em-
bracing all things, and from mutual love as its effect ; but
this communication is not susceptible of comparison with
that effected by the bodily senses, the sight and the hear-
ing, since nothing occurring in the universe can be hidden
from the soul, for the intellectual sight can terminate only
with the limit of the universe, as is evident from ocular
vision.*
* Here a passage is wanting; after the Author's page 109 follows in. The
subjedt of page no, which is continued on page in, would seem to have been, Con-
cerning Heaven, or the Society of Happy Souls, [ The Editor of the Latin edition.
334 THE SOUL.
XXIX.
(533.) Such is the difference of souls and of minds,
such the perpetual dissensions, strifes, controversies, as
well in things of philosophy as of theology, and in worldly
and corporeal affairs, that one animus never agrees with
another. Therefore so many schisms, heresies, and con-
troversies are tolerated as though by special providence of
God, and also so great power is allowed the devil at the
same time, in order that he may disjoin the lower and the
intellectual minds of men, and thus impress upon each
soul its own special state. This also seems to have been
the cause why it was permitted to Adam to commit
sin. For in the first age the soul of no one was distin-
guished from that of another, and thus there was no so-
ciety. From this cause also seems to have resulted the
strict prohibition of parents from entering into marriage
with sons and daughters, and of brothers with sisters, and
many other circumstances which would tend to conjoin
souls ; also that marriages are declared to be contracted
and confirmed in God. Nevertheless, proofs are extant
of the Divine Providence in the contracting of marriages,
even to the least particulars. God also leaves every one
his own free choice in acting, and as it were decrees that
the liberty of any one shall not suffer the least injury, but
rather that every one shall be permitted to rush into his
own destruction or that of others ; since the liberty itself
of human souls is the sole means of disjoining the lower
minds, and hence also the souls of those who are mutu-
ally affected.
CONCERNING HEAVEN. 335
(534.) The Divine Providence operates therefore espe-
cially in distinguishing particulars from particulars, inas-
much as it is the end itself of creation that there shall be a
most perfect society of human souls. For the ultimate end
ought to be that which is the first and the last of creation,
all things else being means to this end, as will appear if
we examine each separately. The progression itself of
means extends even beyond nature. Can any one say
that an earthly society can be the ultimate end, when the
body exists on account of the soul ? Must there then
not be some further end on account of which the soul,
and heaven, and the universal exist ? Can there be any
other end than that there may be a society and kingdom
of God to be constituted of all human souls ? These con-
clusions are so clear that we do not know whether they can
be called in doubt, and so manifest that they are capable of
confirmation from everything existing in the world.
(535.) Since therefore no soul is absolutely similar to
another, but rather some difference or diversity of state
intervenes between all, this has come about not merely
that souls may be mutually distinguished, but that the
most perfect form of society may thence arise. In a per-
fect form of society there ought to be not only a variety
among all, but such variety that the particulars shall so
accord as to constitute at the same time a society in
which there shall be no want which some one may not
supply. Such a form there is in the atmospheric world
itself or in the macrocosm, and such there is in every
body between its constituent parts, be it the fibres, the
cortical glands, or other parts. This variety I call har-
monical ; it is such, in fine, that all the various parts are
mutually related by a certain natural analogy, and thus
constitute a society which may be one. For nothing can
coalesce and as it were constitute one form unless there
be an analogy between the determining parts and the
determinations. Hence arises conjunction, and hence it is
that harmony is pleasing and conjoins, but disharmony is
336
THE FOTTT,.
unpleasant and disjoins. Therefore a form of government
can by no means be called perfect unless there be in it a
variety, and in that a harmony wherein every one has re-
lation to another rightly, according to natural laws. The
analogical or harmonical similitude itself resembles iden-
tity and union. In no other way is it possible for a most
perfect society, or form of society, to be instituted.
(536.) But that harmonious variety does not consist
in the external variety, but in the spiritual variety of souls
and of love toward God and the neighbour, since the
state of the soul imports solely its spiritual state, namely,
that it may be near to its God. So long as any difierence
or any distinction is wanting, just so long may it be said
that a certain place is wanting in heaven ; so that all dif-
ferences are to be supplied before the most perfect form
can exist.
(537.) But are there to be many societies, and as it
were many heavens, out of which is to arise a universal
society which is called the kingdom of God ? This seems
also a possible induction ; for all variety, even that which
is spiritual, supposes some order, subordination, and co-
ordination ; so that in the earth one particular society has
reference to another, and all taken together constitute a
kingdom. This seems to follow as a conclusion from the
supposed admitted variety of the state of souls. For that
the form of governments may be perfect it is necessary that
all the societies shall produce i general harmony among
themselves, just as the several members constitute each a.
particular harmony.
(538.) This is called the kingdom of God ; but the true
kingdom of God is on this earth, which is the seminary
of that kingdom above. This is not confined to any cer-
tain religion or church but is spread over the whole globe ;
since God chooses its members out of all, namely out of
those who had really loved God more then themselves
and their neighbours as themselves. For this is the law of
all laws ; in this culminate all rights, as well natural as
CONCERNING HEAVEN. 337
divine ; all other things, including ecclesiastical and other
forms, are means which lead to this. This His church God
collects from the universal globe, until all places shall be
occupied ; allowing that difference in the form of govern-
ment still to remain which is necessary in order that the
most perfect unity may result.
(539-) But there could be no such society without its
head or chief, who should be indeed a man without offence
or wrong, the conqueror of all the affections of the lower
mind, the embodiment of virtue itself and piety itself, lov-
ing God above self, and his associates as neighbours ; thus
a divinity in himself, in whom the universal society would
be represented, and through whom the members of the
society might have access to their Deity. Without such a
king of souls, in vain would a society be collected, exist,
and subsist. This also follows of necessity from the admit-
ted form of the government, from the disparity of the states
of all, and from the nearness of God through love. This
form would therefore be constituted wholly by those purer
ones of every degree, consequently by the purest of all,
who should be without sin, that is, by our Saviour and
Preserver Jesus Christ, in whom, through faith and love,
we are alone enabled to approach the Divine throne.*
(540.) Behold the form of the government of society
or of celestial societies, yea, the kingdom of God briefly
* So far as this refers to man's ability to approach and to know God as a visible
and personal Being, by means of the Divine Humanity which He assumed and glori-
fied in Jesus Christ, this expression is not inconsistent with the theological teachings of
The True Christian Religion ; but it would be wholly so if understood as implying
the mediation of Christ as a person distinct from the Father, and thus a trinity of
persons, instead of the trinity of person, or the unity of Father, Son, and Holy
Ghost in the one and only Divine Person, our Lord Jesus Christ; just as the soul,
body, and operation unite in constituting the person of one man. So the Apostle
Paul teaches that " in Him (Christ) dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily ;"
and our Saviour Himself declares that " He is in the Father and the Father in Him ;"
that " He that seeth Him seeth the Father;" and that " He and the Father are
one ;" also He breathed on His apostles, and said, " Receive ye the Holy Ghost ;" im-
plying that this is a Divine power or energy imparted from Himself, and not a distinct
or third person in the trinity (See the Doftrine of the Lord, and The True Christian
Religion throughout). [2>.
338
THE SOUL.
shadowed forth ! The form of the government itself can-
not wholly differ from the perfect form of government of
earthly societies ; at least, whatever feature in these is
imperfect is there most perfect ; and those are spiritual
loves which distribute the dignities, and they are nearer
to their chief; thus also each one possesses his own heaven
and enjoys his own happiness.
(541.) In such a society there cannot but reign every
joy, happiness, and felicity, replete with the inmost essence
and most delicious sense of love and of virtues. But no
tongue can describe that felicity, and those joys, for they
exceed by infinite degrees corporeal delights, which in
comparison stand as shadows or mere trifles of delight,
and hardly to be counted as such. If human delights
which are innocent should be exalted to their highest de-
gree or concentrated in the inmost, then some idea might
seem to be formed of it. It is a universal society whose
units are to be counted by myriads ; it is the most per-
fect communion of all, or a perfecl: consociation of spirit-
ual minds, such that whatever is in one mind is common
to another ; thus there is one soul in the society, and like-
wise every variety possible in the universe, which diffuses
and at the same time concentrates the felicities of mind.
The happiness is concentrated upon each one of the socie-
ty, and by each one it is diffused, and thus it is multiplied
infinitely, if there are many societies, constituting among
themselves also a form of government and of variety. For
whatever was once pleasant in life and at the same time
pure is now exalted to the highest degree ; nor is the
communication of minds effected by means of language,
but by a certain activity of mind, whence comes the an-
gelic speech, which expresses nothing whatever by words
or by material ideas, but is able at once and by one op-
eration to express what we can only do by thousands of
words. The sight is not ocular but internal, so that we
may know what goes on in the universal society with its
infinite variety. For there is an intuition of all past
CONCERNING HEAVEN. 339
things as if present, that is, as if divining by the aid of
all things that ever have been on the earth. There is a
representation of the universal heaven ; in a word, the in-
finite varieties which suffuse souls with ineffable delights.
Nor does an impure love exist there, but the pure friend-
ship which has succeeded in its place. Nor is there any
thought of the future, or desire, hope, or anxiety. All
things are there without anxiety, and without fear of loss ;
most constant, eternal. Hence the veneration and adora-
tion of their Deity, in whose praise the heavens of heavens
resound ; the other spiritual delights being elevated there-
by to a still higher degree. But these are only a few of
the features of that life ; for to narrate them all were im-
possible. Such seems to be that most distinct life which
is life indeed ; whereas the bodily life is only a representa-
tion of that life, its shadow and its dream. For to live
is to understand and to be wise, and to live by love with
Him who is life itself is verily to live.
(542.) From these observations it follows that by
unanimous consent [the blessed ones] conspire to the
glory of their Lord and to the love of the citizens in
heaven and on earth ; for the joy is elevated according
to the number of those associated, and at the same time
the inmost rejoice in love that the kingdom of God is
increased, for this is the effect of either love. At length
from so many pure minds the common animus of the so-
ciety is inspired, just as in our body, for one animus or
lower mind is inspired by the minds of the intellectories.
So it is with the common intellect. What influx, however,
that common animus has into our souls, this is not to be
described here ; for the communication of that society
with us takes place only through our souls. Therefore
may Thy kingdom come and Thy will be done on earth
as in the heavens!
340 THE SOUL.
XXX.
CONCERNING HELL, OR THE SOCIETY OF UNHAPPY
SOULS.
(543.) The society of those who live in the contrary
loves, or in hatred to God and their neighbour, is called
infernal, diabolical, unhappy. It exists wholly in order
that there may be every variety inter.posed between the
two, and indeed actually ; for in the spiritual idea of the
sou) there can be no existence which is not actual, since
the soul is pure intelligence, nor is it obstructed with any
shades of ignorance. Nor can intermediate things exist
without their opposites, for their quality is only known
by knowing their relations in opposition ; hence the devil
actually exists, and an infernal society or a society burn-
ing with the love of destroying the heavenly society.
Without such an evil society the blessed would not be
kindled with any zeal and ardour, nor would their souls
burn with eager desire to protect the church. Thus they
feel their happiness increased by the existence of a life
contrary to their own.
(544.) Into this society come all souls which hold in
hatred God and the neighbour ; from their principles, that
is from their love, flow forth crimes and wickednesses of
every sort. They are defiled with vices ; they themselves
suffer most deeply from their own consciences, when they
behold with open eyes the truths which in this life they
had endeavoured .to dissipate with specious arguments and
sophistic reasonings. But when there is no ignorance,
only a bare knowledge of truths, as after death, in souls,
and when the state of the soul has been already deformed,
CONCERNING HELL. 34!
and has so drawn down that nature that it cannot return
to its more beautiful state, then it cannot help suffering the
most deep and intense anguish and torture. And because
this suffering is spiritual and in the soul it cannot be de-
scribed in words nor conceived in ideas, for it surpasses
flames, the gnashing of teeth, and many other punish-
ments of earth. It is as though they were inwardly suf-
fering from blazing and boiling oil poured from an inex-
haustible vessel.*
(545.) That this society also should be provided with
its leader and chief would seem to be undeniable, because
all these souls constitute one society or hell, and with-
out a leader one would rush upon another like Erinnyes
and Furies. t No higher or mutual love conjoins these
souls, but only the fear of their leader or chief, to whom
perhaps is given the power of torturing the subject souls
as often as they do not perform their duty. And so long
as it is a society, there seems to be some hope remaining
of warring against heaven, and of exalting oneself to the
throne. They know, indeed, the impossibility of this, but
nevertheless a pure hatred so persuades them. Therefore
so long as they enjoy any hope, and as this grows from
the increase of their numbers, they seem in some manner
to be happy, not inwardly but superficially, just as the
envious are inwardly pained at the misfortune of even an
* In his theological writings written after his illumination, Swedenborg teaches
that the spiritual planes or degrees of the mind becoming closed or inactive by a
life of evil in the world, the wicked, after death, have no knowledge whatever of pure
or heavenly truth or good, but live in a perpetual hallucination, seeing falsity as
truth and evil as good, and unable even to endure the light and heat of heaven.
The torments they endure are therefore not those of conscience or of remorse, for
these imply some remaining knowledge of, or regard for, Divine truth, which no longer
exists in the infernal spirit after the judgments in the world of spirits. The pun-
ishments endured by the wicked in hell are those which are necessarily inflicted to
hold them in restraint and prevent their destructive loves or hatred from exceeding
their allotted bounds (see Heaven and Hell, nos. 508, 509). [Tr.
t That there is no single supreme Devil who rules over hell, but that the govern-
ment of the hells is effected by the Lord from heaven, through the agency of angels.
by a generally restraining influence, as also by direct punishments inflicted by malig-
nant spirits who excel in cunning and artifice, and are set over the others, they them-
selves being held within prescribed limits, see Heaven and Hell, nos. 543, 544. [Tr.
343 THE SOUL.
unknown person [not from sympathy or love, but because]
this reminds them of the misery that they themselves
are to endure forever.
(546.) But nevertheless, in the Last Judgment, when
the splendour of omnipotence, omnipresence, wisdom,
justice and Divine love, shall shine forth most fully, so
that each one may view his previous life clearly depicted in
his own state, and without the sentence being pronounced
may know of what punishment he is worthy, since all
things will then be manifest, although in the mediate
light of wisdom, then this society shall lose all hope, and
shall contemplate in full view its eternal ruin ; and while
it beholds not only the kingdom of God, but also the fe-
licity of the members of that society, so completely and
purely revealed, hatred becomes changed into envy, and
envy into misery and anxieties. Then it is that this dis-
tracted form of society, from its own inward hatred, as
though of a furious madness, rushes violently one upon
another ; and through the communion of souls agreeing
in their hatred toward heavenly society, but discordant
among themselves, one becomes the devil-tyrant of an-
other, with all reins let loose in utter freedom ; much
as it is on earth when liberty is subjected to no restraint.
(547.) This, although the largest society, shall after
the Judgment cease to be a society ; and although it
would do so, it shall nevertheless avail nothing against the
least society of heaven ; for these are most closely con-
joined in mutual love, yea, bound together under the Di-
vine love. But infernal souls are only united under their
chief, unconnected by any mutual love, but rather dis-
joined in perpetual hatred, and besides separated by God
the Unitor. So is the least handful of celestial souls able
to put to flight a whole army of the impious ; especially
since these are afraid of themselves, and flee from the
truth which they contemplate in themselves, and are
therefore without any self-confidence. Hence one blessed
CONCERNING HELL. 343
soul may put to flight many thousand souls of the un-
happy.
(548.) The ancients, both philosophers and physicists
and the pagan priests, by common consent have confirmed
the doctrine of infernal sufferings. They have described
their punishments, that of Tantalus and others, also Ere-
bus, Styx, the Erinnyes, the Furies. Pythagoras, Plato
and others have thought still more regarding these sub-
jects ; for by their light of nature they have seen that
by no means can they be happy who have not in this life
prepared for themselves a way through virtue to happi-
ness.
344 THE SOUL.
XXXI.
CONCERNING THE DIVINE PROVIDENCE.
(549.) There is no one, I think, so insane as to deny
that there is a certain supreme direction or Divine pro-
vidence ; for all things are full of Deity, and we admire in
each and every thing the order which is attributed to
nature and its perpetual preservation not by itself, which
would be absurd, but by some higher Being from whom
it has existence and consequently subsistence. We see
blended together a multitude of phenomena going to
prove a regulating providence, as that all things seem to
be for the sake of use or an end, especially that one end
seems to exist on account of another, so that there may
be a series of ends, from a certain first, through interme-
diates, to a last or [another] first. But for example : The
earth itself exists that it may be inhabited by animated
beings, the mineral kingdom that it may produce the
vegetable, the vegetable that it may nourish and sustain
the animal, the lower species of animals that they may
serve the higher, and all that they may serve the human
race ; the atmospheres that we may be enclosed and held
in in the body, and that we may breathe and talk ; the
ether with the sun that each being may exist, and also
that we may see. But why mention more ? There is not
a worm, nor a plant, nor blade of grass without its use,
namely, that it may serve as a means to a certain end ;
so that the visible world is a complex of means to an end
beyond the world or beyond its own nature ; for there is
a progression of ends through natural effects, and thus
through universal nature. That there is such a perpetual
DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 345
relation and progress of ends, namely, that one is always
for the sake of another, is to be held as attributable to a
Divine providence ; indeed, as indicating that God has so
provided all particulars that they shall maintain this their
order.
(550.) The universe, with each most particular thing
in it, is the work of God alone, for nothing could flow
from itself. What can exist without an origin ? If the
origin belong to nature itself, whence then is nature, un-
less you worship that as God ? And if these are the works
of God, it is necessary that He sustain them, for without
perpetual sustentation all things would relapse into their
primitive chaos. Thence He must be actually omnipre-
sent, omniscient, omnipotent ; and if omnipotent it fol-
lows that He provides for each and every thing in order
that there may be ends intermediate to a further end.
To rule and provide for a universe is the Divine itself and
property of Divinity ; nor has this need of counsel nor of
care. For from itself and its own essence, wisdom and
love, all these things flow in their connection, order, and
their genuine series.
(551.) If there is a universal providence of God there
is also a particular one, for the universal never exists with-
out particulars from which it is called universal. Of what
quality is the universal can be judged from the particu-
lars ; thus from providence in most particular things may
be judged what it is in the universal, nor would there be
any universal unless it concerned itself with particulars ;
and this, indeed, in the case of providence, in order that
all these may conspire to universal ends.
(552.) All providence regards an end, and it foresees
means to an end ; thence is the future embraced in the
present, and the present is as the complex of the past.
So is there a series of means to a certain end, which is
the first in the mediates and in the ultimates. But of what
nature is the Divine providence we may see much better
from examples than from bare axioms.
346 THE SOUL.
(553.) The end of creation, or the end on account of
which the world was created, could be no other than the
first and the last, or the most universal of all ends, and
that which is perpetually reigning in the created universe,
which is the complex of means conspiring to that end.
No other end of creation can be given than that there
may exist a universal society of souls, or a heaven, that
is, the kingdom of God. That this was the end of creation
may be proved by innumerable arguments ; for it would
be absurd to say that the world was created on account
of the earth and terrestrial societies, and this miserable
and perishable life ; since all things on earth are for the
sake of man, and all things in man for the sake of his soul,
and the soul cannot be for no end. If, then, it exists for
any end, it must be for a society in which God is present ;
for His providence regards souls which are spiritual, and
His works are adapted to men and to their consociation.
(554.) In order that a celestial society, or society of
souls may exist, it is necessary that there be a most per-
fect form of government, namely, souls distinct among
themselves, and every possible variety, which may be
called harmonies between the souls ; and so from such
harmony there will arise a consensus and accord which
shall produce that entire effect and end which is always
foreseen and provided.
(555.) Let there be this most universal end, which is
at once the first, the all in the mediates, and the last,
and thus the same as the first, and we shall see at once
how the Divine providence reigns in foreseeing and dis-
pensing the mediates. It may be said God might create
such a society at once, without our earth and worldly
things ; that is, He might fill heaven with souls without
any generation and multiplication in this earth. This,
indeed, cannot be denied ; all things to God are possible.
But there are also innumerable things which are to Him
impossible ; for instance, to be imperfect, mortal, incon-
stant, wicked, unjust. This is repugnant to His nature ;
DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 347
and because such a society [as we have described], whose
form is most perfect, can in no wise be given without
every variety, even from the most perfect to the most im-
perfect, from the pure to the impure, from love to hatred ;
or because there are intermediates from given opposites,
thus between the highest good or God and the greatest
evil or the Devil ; therefore from these premises it would
follow that God, because He is perfection itself, wisdom,
goodness and love, could in no wise create immediately
any devil nor any soul in whom evil or any guilt should
reside ; hence not man together with vice, crime and
sin, and hence not such a variety as is required for such
a society as we have described. For whatever immedi-
ately flowed from God could not be otherwise than the
best and the most perfect. But that the evil and the
imperfect should have come into existence can be traced
not immediately to God as a cause, but to the created
subject itself in which it is a nature. Thus it is from the
Devil himself that he arose against his God and became
a rebel ; it was from Adam that he did contrary to the Di-
vine commandment, seeking how he might enjoy a higher
and more perfect existence. It is clear from the Sacred
Scriptures that the Divine providence did not lead Adam
immediately to this evil, but that it permitted it ; that
it permitted the serpent ; that it forbade to him the tree ;
that it created Adam free, and did not instruct him ; that
in the moment that he ate he was not checked and made
to abstain, as was Abraham when he would sacrifice his
son ; beside many other things which clearly demonstrate
that there was a providence that he should be able to sin,
and a foreknowledge that he would sin, and lose his pris-
tine integrity, and thus that this result should flow as
from the very principle of his being, namely, that souls
are to be distinguished one from another, and that every
possible variety must exist between them ; and so the end
of creation or the kingdom of God be reached, whose
seminaries are terrestrial societies, which likewise repre-
348 THE SOUL.
sent the heavenly society. For there is nothing given in
this world which does not contain a representation of the
future world.*
That this end may be obtained it is necessary that
man shall be allowed a free will. The cause of variety
of subjects arises solely from free exercise and liberty of
the will. Without this there would be no intellect, no
morality, no virtue, no vice, no crime, no guilt, no af-
fection of the mind or change of state. This is the rea-
son why God has wished to preserve the free human will
strong and inviolate, even for the doing of evil deeds ; so
that we would seem to be almost willing to deny a Divine
providence for the same reason that we would affirm it.
But the liberty allowed to human minds is not absolute,
but limited. It is like a bird which the fowler holds
bound by its foot or tied with a string, and which can
move about to a certain distance ; it is provided that it
shall not go beyond this limit.
(556.) The means which restrict the free wills of men
are numerous. There are, for instance, societies, and the
forms of their government, laws, punishments of the body,
judges, all things done in order that men shall not abuse
their free will ; there are consciences, and laws, and rights
impressed on our minds, which are the most stringent
bonds. There is religion or Divine worship, the fear of
eternal punishments and condemnation, and the love and
hope of happiness ; this therefore may be called the bond
of society and of societies. There is a certain fate which
follows every one and abides with him continually, ac-
cording to his crimes or his virtues. Concerning this we
shall treat further on. There is especially the cause of
fate, the influx of God Himself by His Spirit into souls,
which nevertheless exist as contingently as if nothing
was by provision or consultation.
(557.) Meanwhile, unless such means had been pro-
* "Alles vergangliche ist ein Gleichness" (Goethe). [TV.
DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 349
vided, and God Himself had been acting as the ruler and
establisher of all, no human society whatever could have
existed, where one always seeks the destruction of another
and desires to despoil him of his goods, and when many
esteem themselves higher than societies, and imagine that
all things exist for themselves alone. Such a society,
animated by a spirit destructive of society itself, never-
theless exists entire, and this could not be the case without
a Divine providence.
(558.) The very Divine providence itself principally
reigns in distinguishing particulars from particulars, lest
there should be given one state of mind absolutely like
another. On this account liberty is granted. Marriages
are said to be foreordained in heaven ; marriages of pa-
rents and children, of brothers and sisters are wholly for-
bidden ; schisms and controversies, as well of religion as
of principles of economy, politics, philosophy and physics,
are tolerated and almost inspired ; all differ in their prin-
ciples, and thence in their mental dispositions, so that we
say "many heads, many minds \animi\" Nature herself
abhors every equality between one thing and another ;
for such would be one and the same, and there would be
nothing distinct, and hence nothing natural.
(559.) Providence reigns both particularly and uni-
versally in selecting and foreseeing those who are to
attain to heavenly happiness ; for the human race is the
seminary itself [of heaven], and the City of God or the
Church is scattered throughout the universal world, and
from thence is the celestial society collected. Thus all
those who are called the elect are ruled by a peculiar
providence of God.
(560.) This is the principal end, and these the means
leading to that end ; but there are still infinite means which
in their essence as means pursue either mediately or imme-
diately this series of ends, whether as pertaining to things
mundane and corporeal or to things spiritual. In regard
to things corporeal in order that the body may be cov-
35° THE SOUL.
ered or clothed, the whole globe furnishes the vestments,
yea, even the worms do this ; and as food is also neces-
sary that man may live in the body, this is also pro-
vided. As for mundane affairs, there are the wealth and
possessions necessary for civil existence, also the sciences,
and innumerable other things. For the spiritual interests
of man it is revealed of what nature heaven is, what the
will is, how God is to be adored, and by what means the
state of the soul is to be perfected so that it may be a
member of heaven, and this in such manner that its lib-
erty may not be injured, but that it may freely turn it-
self to God.
(561.) But concerning providence, fate, fortune, predes-
tination, and human prudence, we have already treated ;
which passages see and add.*
* Dr. Rudolph Tafel, in his Documents concerning Swedenborg, vol. ii., p. 932,
offers the following satisfactory explanation of this paragraph : " A work bearing a
somewhat similar title was announced by the author for publication in 1742, viz.,
'Divine Prudence, Predestination, Fate, Fortune, and Human Prudence ' (See Docu-
ment 201, vol. i., p. 585). That Swedenborg really wrote a work bearing this title,
appears from the last chapter of the present work, which is entitled Divine Provi-
dence, and where the author says at the close, ' Concerning providence, fate, fortune,
predestination, and human prudence we have already treated ; what has been said
there may be seen and added here.' This work, however, has not been preserved
among the author's MSS."
Dr. Im. Tafel, the editor of the Latin edition, adds the following references, which
cannot be those which the author had in mind, as they include works written many
years later. [ Tr.
On the Divine Providence (see places cited in Spiritual Diary, part v. a, pp.
209-213).
On Fate (the same, part v. 2, p. in ; and Arcana Caelestis, no. 6487).
On Fortune (the same, part v. i, p. 340; and Arcana Caelestis, nos. 5049, 5179,
5508, 6484, 6493, 7007; Angelic Wisdom concerning the Divine Providence, nos.
212, 251 ; also the New Jerusalem andits Heavenly Doclrine, no. 276).
On Predestination (Arcana Cailestis, no. 6488 ; Divine Providence, nos. 329, 330 ;
Summary Exposition of the Doclrine of the New Church, no. 66; True Christian
Religion, nos. 72, 485-488, 628, 798, 803).
On Human Prudence (Spiritual Diary, part v. 2, p. 213; Arcana Caelestis,
nos. 649, 5664, 6484, 6692, 7007, 8717 ; Divine Providence, nos. 197, 206, 208, 216,
335, 316, 321 ; Conjugial Love, no. 353 ; The New Jerusalem, no. 276).
THE UNIVERSAL MATHESIS. 351
XXXII.
THE UNIVERSAL MATHESIS, OR A MATHEMATICAL
PHILOSOPHY OF UNIVERSALS.
(562.) The celebrated Locke, in his treatise on The
Human Understanding, says : —
" The ideas which form the basis of morality being all
real essences, and of such a nature that they sustain a
mutual connection and adaptation which may be dis-
covered, it follows that as soon as we discover these
relations, we shall to that point be in possession of so
many real, certain, and general truths ; and I am sure
that in following a good method one might bring a large
part of moral science to such a degree of evidence and
certitude, that an attentive and judicious man would no
longer find in it any matter of doubt, more than he would
in propositions of mathematics which have been demon-
strated to him" (Book iv., ch. xii., section 8).
And elsewhere : " Perhaps, if one should consider dis-
tinctly and with all possible care the kind of science
which proceeds upon the basis of ideas and words, this
would produce a logic and a critique different from those^
hitherto seen" (Book iv., ch. xxi., section 4).
Again : " I do not doubt but that in the state and pres-
ent constitution of our nature, human knowledge may be
carried far beyond any point thus far attained, if men will
undertake sincerely and with entire mental freedom to
perfect the means of discovering the truth with the same
application and the same industry which they employ in
colouring and maintaining a falsity, in defending a sys-
352 THE SOUL.
tern of which they are declared partisans, or certain in-
terests in which they are engaged" (Book iv., ch. iii., sec-
tion 6).
Further: "The highest degree of our knowledge is
intuition without reasoning ; .... for this is certain knowl-
edge secure from all doubt, having no need of proof and
incapable of receiving it, because it is the highest point
of all human certitude ; such is that which the angels
now possess and that which the spirits of the just made
perfect will attain to in the life to come. It embraces a
thousand things which at present escape entirely our un-
derstanding ; our reason in its limited range of vision
catching few gleams of them, the rest remaining veiled
in darkness from our view" (Book iv., ch. xvii., section 14).
(563.) There is given a science of sciences, or a uni-
versal science, which contains all others in itself, and
parts of which can as it were be resolved into these and
those particular sciences. Such a science is not acquired
by learning, but it is connate, especially in souls which arc
pure intelligences. Such is the science of souls released
from the body, and of angels, who if they communicate
their thoughts, or converse, would seem unable to form
any connection by words, which are all material ideas and
forms, and which the mind understands as signs, know-
ing their meaning, and this from experience ; but the soul
from this its science contemplates all objects immediately
as they are in themselves, thus whether good or evil, and
according to their nature it assents or is averse. Unless
the soul were furnished with such a science it would be
wholly unable to flow into our thoughts, and to infuse
as it were the power of understanding and of expressing
higher things; as also it would be unable to adapt all its
organic forms to the inmost and most secret laws of
mechanics, physics, chemistry, and many other phenom-
ena ; therefore that such a science exists there can be no
doubt.
(564.) For there are truths a priori, or propositions
THE UNIVERSAL MATHESIS. 353
which are at once acknowledged as true ; nor is there
need of any demonstrations a posteriori for proving them,
nor of confirmation by experience, or by the senses.
The truth itself presents itself naked, and as it were de-
clares itself true. The mind is often indignant that such
truths should have to be proved when they are above all
demonstration. For all harmonies, and thus all order,
naturally soothe and delight the organs of our senses,
while disharmony constrains and wounds them. So it is
with truths in which there is as it were an intellectual
order. Wherefore if we were not overburdened with the
fetters of sciences, with the turbulent desires of the lower
mind, and similar hindrances, we should be able to know
truths purely ; since a certain consent shines forth as
something harmonious and as from a sacred shrine, I
know not where.
(565.) But the reason of this is that higher forms
contain in themselves all those things which can be con-
tained in the lower forms, as a universal genus contains
all the species ; so that the higher form is the order itself
and the principle of the following forms, thence also of
all their forces, modes and qualities ; and in themselves
as of their very nature they perceive whatever agrees or
disagrees with the form, and thence all that ever is given
in the lower forms, if there is a connection therewith,
such as that of the soul with the body by means of the
organic forms.
(566.) This science indeed may seem to be capable
of being reduced to rule, but by what mode of reasoning
can be perceived from those things which are immediately
around the internal sensory ; thus all ideas, both material
and intellectual, are only mutations of the state of the
sensory and of the intellectory ; and these changes of state
can be understood from a description of the forms, espe-
cially the circular and spiral. The soul perceives every such
change, and knows what it signifies. The changes of state
are universal and singular, common and particular, gen-
354 THE SOUL.
eral, special, and individual, and all these can be subjected
to a certain algebraic calculation, and be reduced by rules
to equations in the same manner as is customary in the
calculus of infinites. In the mind itself also all things
are reduced to their equations, in which those things are
together present which before have been collected or have
taken place successively. Those things which are in con-
tact with the internal sensory can be raised to higher
powers or elevated to higher degrees by their proper
rules ; and so changes of state still more universal exist,
which contain, together and successively, infinitely more
particulars corresponding to the truths themselves per-
ceived by the soul from the changes of state.
(567.) Thus indeed it is possible to submit ideas of
the mind to calculation ; whence arises the universal ma-
thesis. But it is not possible to deduce any certitude
thence, unless there be a certitude proposed and acknowl-
edged, from which equations are to be commenced. I
would wish also to propose one other attempt ; indeed I
have ascertained its possibility ; but there are many rules
to be premised and data proposed and truths to be ad-
justed before I may approach this. And still we fall at
length into a certain Gordian knot and equation, out of
which greater labor is required to extricate ourselves
than it is worth while to devote to it, and from the small-
est fault in reckoning we are able to fall into many fal-
lacies. On this account I forbear making the attempt, and
in place of it I have desired to propose a certain Key of
Natural and Spiritual Mysteries by the way of Correspond-
ences and Representations, which more directly and cer-
tainly leads us into hidden truths ;* and upon this doctrine,
since it is as yet unknown to the world, I ought to dwell
at somewhat greater length.
* See the author's Hieroglyphic Key to Natural and Spiritual Mysteries by
•may of Representation, and Correspondences. Translated by Wilkinson, London,
1847.
APPENDIX L 355
APPENDIX I.
TWELVE THESES ON "THE HUMAN SOUL."
(From the "Economy of the Animal Kingdom" Part J/.)
BY EMANUEL SWEDENBORG.
I.
From the anatomy of the animal body we clearly perceive that
a certain most pure fluid glances through the subtlest fibres, remote
from even the acutest sense ; that it reigns universally in the whole
and in every part of its own limited universe or body, and continues,
irrigates, nourishes, actuates, modifies, forms, and renovates every-
thing therein. This fluid is in the third degree above the blood,
which it enters as the first, supreme, inmost, remotest, and most
perfe<5l substance and force of its body, as the sole and proper ani-
mal force, and as the determining principle of all things. Where-
fore, if the soul of the body is to be the subject of inquiry, and the
communication between the soul and the body to be investigated,
we must first examine this fluid, and ascertain whether it agrees with
our predicates. But as this fluid lies so deeply in nature, no thought
can enter into it. except by the doctrine of series and degrees joined
to experience ; nor can it be described, except by recourse to a
mathematical philosophy of universals.
II.
Yet this does not prevent us from perceiving, solely by the intui-
tive faculty of the mind, that such a fluid, although it be the first
substance of the body, nevertheless derives its being from a still
higher substance, and proximately from those things in the universe
on which the principles of natural things are impressed by the Deity,
and in which, at the same time, the most perfect forms of nature
are involved. Hence it is that it is the form of forms in the body,
and the formative substance, that draws the thread from the first
living point, and continues it afterwards to the last point of life ; and
so connects one thing with another, and so conserves and governs
it afterwards, that all things mutually follow each other, and the
posterior refer themselves to the prior, and the whole with the parts,
the universal with the singulars, by a wonderful subordination and
co-ordination, refers itself to this prime form and substance, upo \
356 THE SOUL.
which all things depend, and by which, and for which, each thing
exists in its own distinctive manner.
ill.
But as this most pure fluid, or supereminent blood, has acquired
its form from the first substances of the world, it can by no means
be said to live, much less to feel, perceive, understand, or regard
ends ; for nature, considered in itself, is dead, and only serves life as
an instrumental cause ; thus is altogether subject to the will of an
intelligent being, who uses it to promote ends by effects. Hence
we must look higher for its principle of life, and seek it from the
First Esse or Deity of the universe, who is essential life and essen-
tial perfection of life or wisdom. Unless this First Esse were life
and wisdom nothing whatever in nature could live, much less have
wisdom ; nor yet be capable of motion.
IV.
This life and intelligence flow with vivifying virtue into no sub-
stances but those that are accommodated at once to the beginning of
motion, and to the reception of life; consequently into the most
simple, universal, and perfect substances of the animal body ; that
is, into its purest fluid ; and through this medium into the less sim-
ple, universal, and perfect substances, or into the posterior and com-
pound ; all of which manifest the force and lead the life of their first
substance, according to their degree of composition, and according
to their form, which makes them such as we find them to be. On
account of the influx of this life, which is the principal cause in the
animate kingdom, this purest fluid, which is the instrumental cause,
is to be called the spirit and soul of its body.
v.
But to know the manner in which this life and wisdom flow in,
is infinitely above the sphere of the human mind ; there is no ana-
lysis and no abstraction that can reach so high ; for whatever is in
God, and whatever law God acts by, is God. The only representa
tion we can have of it is in the way of comparison with light. For
as the sun is the fountain of light and the distinctions thereof in its
universe, so the Deity is the sun of life and of all wisdom. As the sun
of the world flows in only one manner, and without unition, into the
subjects and objects of its universe, so also does the sun of life and
of wisdom. As the sun of the world flows in by mediating auras,
so the sun of life and of wisdom flow in by the mediation of His
spirit. But as the sun of the world flows into subjects and objects
according to the modified character of each, so also does the sun of
life and of wisdom. But we are not at liberty to go further than
this into the details of the comparison, inasmuch as the one sun is
APPENDIX I. 357
within nature, the other is above it ; the one is physical, the other
is purely moral ; and the one falls under the philosophy of the mind,
while the other lies withdrawn among the sacred mysteries of theo-
logy, between which two there are boundaries that it is impossible
for human faculties to transcend. Furthermore, by the omnipres-
ence and universal influx of this life into created matters, all things
flow constantly in a provident order from an end, through ends, to
an end.
VI.
There are, then, two distinct principles that determine this spirit-
uous fluid assumed as the soul ; the one natural, by which it is en-
abled to exist and be moved in the world ; the other spiritual, by
which it is enabled to live and be wise ; of these a third, as properly
its own, is compounded, namely, the principle of determining itself
into acts suitable to the ends of the universe. But this principle
of self-determination regards the ultimate world, or the earth, where
the determination takes place ; and hence the soul thus emprincipled
must descend by as many degrees as distinguish the substances and
forces of the world ; and by consequence form a body adequate to
each degree in succession. There are, then, sensory and motory
organs; both of which are distributed into four degrees. The first
of the organs is the spirituous fluid or soul, whose office it is to
represent the universe, to have intuition of ends, to be conscious,
and principally to determine. The next organ under the soul is the
mind, whose office it is to understand, to think, and to will. The
third in order is the animus, whose office it is to conceive, to imagine,
and to desire. The fourth or last is constituted of the organs of the
five external senses, namely, sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch.
So also the motory organs, of which the muscles are the last. These
and the sensory organs constitute the body, whose office it is to feel,
to form looks and actions, to be disposed, and to do what the higher
lives determine, will, and desire. Although there are this number
of degrees, yet the animal system consists of nothing but the soul
and the body ; for the intermediate organisms are only determina-
tions of the soul, of which, as well as of the body, they partake.
Such now is the ladder by which every operation and affection of
the soul and body descends and ascends.
The spirituous fluid is the first of the organs, or the supereminent
organ, in its animal body. And as it is the soul, it is seated so high
above all the other faculties, that it is their order, truth, rule, law,
science, art. Consequently its office is to represent the universe;
to have intuition of ends ; to be conscious of all things ; principally
to determine. It is a faculty distinct from the intellectual mind,
prior and superior to, and more universal and more perfect than,
the latter. And it flows into the intellectual mind much after the
manner of light. Consequently a notion of it can hardly be procured
while we live in the body.
358 THE SOUL.
VII.
The genuine progression in descending and ascending appears
to be in this wise. As the forms of the modulations or sounds of
the air in the ear are to the forms of the modifications or images
of the ether in the eye, or in the animus, so are the latter to the
forms of the superior modifications in the mind, which forms are
termed intellectual and rational ideas, in so far as they are illumin-
ated by the light of the soul ; and so again are these forms of the
mind to similar supreme forms, inexpressible by words, in the soul,
which forms are termed intuitive ideas of ends, in so far as they are
illuminated by the life of the first cause.
VIII.
The soul, from the very initial stages of conception, which it de-
rives in the first instance from its parent, is born accommodated at
once to the beginning of motion and to the reception of life ; conse-
quently to all its intuition and intelligence, and it takes this intui-
tion and intelligence with it, from the first stamen and the earliest
infancy to the most extreme old age. But not so the mind, which
before it can be illuminated by the light of the soul, must be im-
bued with principles a posteriori, or through the organs of the ex-
ternal senses, by the mediation of the animus. Thus as the mind is
instructed, or the way opened, so it is enabled to communicate with
its soul, which has determined and provided that the way leading
to it should be opened in this order. Hence it follows that there
are no innate ideas or imprinted laws in the human mind, but only
in the soul; in which unless ideas and laws were connate, there
could be no memory of the things perceived by the senses, and no
understanding ; and no animal could exist and subsist as an organic
subject participant of life.
IX.
From the foregoing considerations we may infer the nature of
the intercourse between the soul and the body ; for those things
that are superior flow into those that are inferior, according to the
order, and suitably to the mode, in which the substances are formed,
and in which they communicate, by their connections, with each
other. If the operation of the spirituous fluid be the soul ; and if
the operation of the soul in the organic cortical substance be the
mind ; and if the affection of the entire brain, or common senso-
rium, be the animus ; and if the faculty of feeling be in the sensory
organs ; and the faculty of acting in the motory organs of the body ;
then a diligent and rational anatomical inquiry must show the nature
of the above intercourse, and must prove that the soul can com-
municate with the body, but through mediating organs, and indeed
according to the natural and acquired state of such organs.
APPENDIX L 359
The spirituous fluid is thoroughly adapted and ready to take
upon it infinite variety, and to undergo infinite changes of state ;
hence it is in the most perfect harmonic variety, both with respe<fl
to the parts in its system, and with respect to different systems rel-
atively to each other. By means of this variety the soul is enabled
to know everything whatever that happens without and within the
body, and that comes in contact with the body ; and to apply its
force to those things that occur within, and to give its consent to
those things that occur without. Thus we may understand what
free choice is, namely, that the rnind has the power to elect what-
ever it desires in a thought directed to one end ; hence to determine
the body to act, whether according to what the animus wishes, or
whether the contrary ; but in those matters only in which the mind
has been instructed by way of the organs ; in which it views the
honourable, the useful, or the decorous as an end. But in higher
and divine things, the mind can will the means, but in respect to
the end it must permit itself to be acted upon by the soul, and the
soul by the spirit of God. Meanwhile, this free power of doing, or
leaving undone, is granted to human minds as a means to the ulti-
mate end of creation, which is the glory of God.
XI.
But not so in brute animals ; for their purest fluid receives its
form from the ether of the second order, not in a higher degree than,
but in the same degree as, their organism, which corresponds to that
of our mind : and in consequence of this circumstance, they are
born to communication between the soul and the body, or to all the
conditions of their life; and are carried, suitably to the order of
nature, into ends that they themselves are ignorant of.
XII.
On these premises it may be demonstrated to intellectual belief,
that the human spirituous fluid is absolutely safe from harm by aught
that befalls in the sublunary region ; and that it is indestructible,
and remains immortal, although not immortal per se, after the death
of the body. That when emancipated from the bonds and trammels
of earthly things, it will still assume the exact form of the human
body, and live a life pure beyond imagination. Furthermore, that
not the smallest deed is done designedly in the life of the body, and
not the least word uttered by consent of the will, but shall then ap-
pear in the bright light of an inherent wisdom, before the tribunal
of its conscience. Lastly, that there is a society of souls in the
heavens, and that the City of God upon earth is the seminary of this
society, in which, and l»y which, the end of ends is regarded.
360 THE SOUL.
APPENDIX II.
AN ABSTRACT* OF THE "EPILOGUE ON THE SENSES
OR SENSATION IN GENERAL."
{Translated from Part IV. of the "Animal Kingdom? as edited* in Latin, If
JDr.J. F. Im> Tafel, Tubingen and London, 1848.)
SENSATION IN GENERAL.
These general principles are to be observed regarding all sensa-
tion:—
1. The origin of every sensation is from an external touch or
impulse.
2. The touch or impulse is upon the fibres or little tunics of the
fibres, and thus external.
3. Therefore the fibres must be so organically disposed and formed
that they may receive in a distinct manner all the differences
belonging to the various kinds of touch.
4. The sensations of touch, taste, and smell arise from the touch
or impulse of heavy bodies, or of the inertia of forces, that is,
of parts.
5. But the senses of hearing and sight arise from the touch or im-
pulse of bodies not heavy, but of active forces, that is, of parts
of the atmosphere.
6. That sensation may become evident and cause affection there
must be many differences together in the same touch, and thus
a kind of form made up of differences.
7. The differences of this form will be simultaneous or successive.
8. The form arising from the successive differences will put on
the same quality as the form of the simultaneous differences.
9. The organ ico-sen so ry forms are formed so as to receive in a dis-
tincfl manner the forms of all these differences.
* An outline merely is given, chiefly by stating the theses or propositions which
the author discusses at length. [ Tr.
APPENDIX II. 361
Especially are we to observe that : —
10. The organic forms of each sensory apply immediately to it these
simultaneous and successive varieties of differences.
11. They communicate these to the fibres from which they are
composed.
12. These fibres, by a kind of modification or tremulation, after the
analogy of strings, according to the antecedents carry [these
differences] up to their origins or to the cortical substances.
13. This is done perfectly by virtue of the spiritual essence which is
in the fibre.
14. And according to the nature of the modification and trembling,
these differences are carried to every contiguous fibre, and to
every cortical substance of the cerebrum and the cerebellum,
also of the medulla oblongata and medulla spinalis.
15. By the living essence which is in the spirit and in the fibres this
modification becomes sensation, the change of state gives an
affection according to the form of the modification, and so on.
16. The soul itself, which alone lives in the body, gives the ability
to feel the qualities of these modifications.
17. According to the affections arise the changes of state in the
organs.
18. This modification of the fibres spreads out according to every
form of modification in the very beginnings or the cortical sub-
stances; for these beginnings were formed according to this
very nature.
19. Therefore as many differences and varieties as are in the touch
and between the various touches, so many different changes of
state are undergone, for the perfection [of these cortical sub-
stances] consist in this.
20. From the form of the differences and of the modifications of
the changes of state thence arising, the affections are produced;
that is, pleasant ones if the changes of state agree with the
natural state, unpleasant if they disagree.
31. Hence every touch or mode which is represented in the sense
as a unit, whether successive or simultaneous varieties enter
into it, is either pleasant or unpleasant.
22. Likewise with the units or modes among themselves, their har-
monies produce a common affection.
23. The senses differ in degree; the most composite is the touch;
among the external senses the most simple is the sight. [The
doctrine of Degrees is here illustrated at some length. TV.]
24. Thence they differ in the perfection of all their qualities.
25. This difference is entirely according to the object which touch,
impel, strike and affect the organ.
26. The organic forms of each sensory are brought into agreement
according to these degrees.
27. According to the same degrees the fibres themselves are com-
' posed from which are made the organic forms.
362 THE SOUL.
28. According to the same degrees the modifications run through
the fibres.
29. According to the same degrees changes are experienced in the
common sensory or cerebrum.
30. According to the same degrees also affections [are produced] in
the cerebrum, that is, according to changes and their harmonies
or disharmonies.
31. This, therefore, is the cause of the diversity of the five senses.
32. The organic forms determine these things in each external
sensory.
33. Each sense has its own common or general sense to which the
modes or units refer themselves as parts.*
34. These common [senses] differ among themselves as do the
series of parts or modes.
35. Hence exist the parts or unities properly distinguished among
themselves, and they tend towards an evident perfection .
Therefore every sensation has its superior and inferior degrees,
and indeed three, the particular, the general, and the most gen-
eral ; for every where there is order and degrees of order that there
may be a series and correspondences.
36. Every sense of whatever degree has its greatest and its least,
and its least refers to its greater and greatest. These degrees
are to be treated of in their especial doctrine, to be called that
of Society and Series.
37. All ideas arise from sensations of sight.
38. The hearing regarded in itself does not produce any ideas, but
only refers them to visual ideas.
39. The modes of hearing seem to be able to affect the imagination.
40. All harmony of posteriors with priors, or of inferiors with
superiors, is not pre-established but co-established.
41. There is something in the forms of the inferior modes, sensa-
tion and their ideas which naturally affects those which are
superior.
43. These things can only be understood by means of new doctrines,
namely, those of Forms, of Order, and Degrees, of Influx, of
Correspondences, of Modifications.
43. It is ideas which form truths, and the form itself of the truth or
rather of the truths give [the sense of] goodness; hence the
affections.
44. Truths, because they are forms, produce affections, either by
means of mere harmony or on account of a love which is put
for the end.
45. Animals better recognize the harmonies of things arising from
their senses [than man], for these things correspond harmo-
niously to them.
* Compare Aristotle, De Anima, chap, viii., cited in Appendix III., p. 377.
APPENDIX II. 363
B.
CONCERNING TRUTHS.
1. All sensations are forms either harmonious or discordant.
2. It is the same with imaginative sensation.
3. All varieties above these or belonging to the intellect are not
natural, but are acquired by learning or art.
4. There are nevertheless intellectual truths which produce effect
naturally.
5. These truths, undoubted, are only parts from which higher
truths are to be concluded.
6. Such therefore as is the love, and the more powerfully it reigns,
such is the affection thence arising.
7. Inferior loves naturally combat against superior ones.
8. Thus the more the lower loves recede the more the higher ones
can flow in.
9. In a word, intellectual truths result either from the lower or
corporeal affections or from the spiritual or higher affections.
For the intellect is the center of these.
to. The intellectual viewed in itself is only the supremely sensitive
[organ].
CONCERNING THE AFFECTIONS.
1. There is natural affection and spiritual affection.
2. There is a mixed affection which partakes of the natural and
the spiritual.
3. Natural affection is divided into sensitive, imaginative and in-
telle£iual\ or what is the same thing, into corporeal or material
which is of the external senses, or the face; the physical which
is of the imagination or the animus; and the philosophical which
is of the intellect or the mind.
4. Sensitive affection has regard to merely the figures of objects,
hence to their common and particular qualities.
5. The imagination or physical affection, like the visual, has regard
to images and ideas, which it disposes into a new order, hence
the affection of harmony.
6. The intellectual or philosophic affection regards immaterial or
highly elevated ideas.
7. All these natural affections, because harmonious, presuppose
some geometric and analytic elements and principles.
&. The philosophic affection is the inmost sensation which is called
the intellect.
9. The lower affections flow into the higher, the higher into the
364
THE SOUL.
lower, but with much difference. Hence comes the common
sense.
10. This is the faculty of thinking and of judging.
11. The faculty next below feels according to the state put on by
the intellectual faculty.
12. Spiritual affection.
D.
A GENERAL EXPOSITION REGARDING SENSATION AND AFFECTION.*
1. Sensation produces affection : affection is of good or of evil.
Affection of good is love, of evil, hate. The love of good in-
volves harmony; harmony conjunction. Therefore good and
evil are the beginnings of all affections.
2. The external senses know good and evil by affections ; the imag-
ination by reproduction and a new production from the memory,
and from this inmost memory or that of the intellect, which by
its faculty of evoking ideas and analytically forming them ex-
plores truths and the qualities of truth, especially the inmost
or those of the intellect, whether the good be a true or false
good and the evil be truly or falsely evil. In or under the
knowledge itself of truth lies hidden the good or the evil by
which the sensation is affected. And this is affected according
to the natural and the acquired order, in which is the organism
of life itself.
3. What is truly good and what truly evil is known especially from
the love which is in the affection of the sensations. The lowest
love is that of the world ; the love next higher and the princi-
pal cause of that love is the love of the body ; still higher is
the love of self and ambition ; above this is the love of society,
which increases in its degrees according to its quality, or its
natural, moral, and spiritual bonds, and according to its quantity
or universality. Still superior to this is the love of a heavenly
society ; and supreme is the love of God.
4. That loves thus ascend follows from this induction : Our bodies
are not for the sake of the world ; the internal faculties of the
body whence is the love of self is not for the sake of the body ;
human societies are not for our sake, heavenly society is not for
the sake of the earthly, but just the contrary. Thus neither
does God exist for the sake of a heavenly society, but this for
the sake of His glory.
5. Thus a true and pure love and the true and highest good is
God from whom as from their source flow all love, hence all af-
fection of good, felicity, harmony, conjunction.
* Compare Aristotle, De Anima, Bk. iii. chap.viii., as quoted in Appendix III., p. 37?
APPENDIX II. 365
6. Hence such as is the love such is the understanding of truth
and thence flows truth as from its fount.
7. Thus also all intelligence of truth descends. As God is good-
ness itself so is He truth itself. He is the true Good and the
good True, which is one. Higher goodness and truth flow into
the lower, but not the reverse. In lower things there is no good-
ness and no truth which is not received from a higher. We
receive nothing of good and of truth from above except as we
remove the impediments and the inferior loves. Then it flows
in by Grace, and not by our merit. For we cannot even remove
the lower loves without a higher power, that is by its equilibrium
and thence its presence ; then by those contingencies which pro-
mote or impede [our loves], and thus by Providence. There-
fore there is nothing except what is of Grace.
These things you will see proved, yea, demonstrated in our psy-
chological writings ; I dare say demonstrated, for I know I can de-
monstrate them, yea, even to the faith of the unbelieving.
E.
FROM THE " RULES OF HARMONY OR OF Music.1**
1. Gravity and acuteness of sounds proceed from four causes,
(i.) The length of the fibre or string; (ii.) its tension or relax-
ation ; (iii.) its thickness or multiplication ; (iv.) its solidity and
the specific gravity thence arising.
2. All these are present in the ear and in infinite variety.
3. A similar rule holds in simultaneous or consonant, as in succes-
sive or concordant sounds.
4. Modifications and sounds have a concordance between their
intervals according to a coincidence of vibrations, and so an
application of one sound to another.
5. This causes a pleasant variety, because there are oppositions
which quickly and truly coincide.
6. All modifications of one sense traverse in the same time or
the same velocity the fibres of the nerves, of whatever interval
they be. Thus the general modifications in the same time as
the particular ones.
7. Thus the sensory fibres, and others connected, as the connection
is broken by the least moment of disharmony, become dissonant
in the brain.
* I have introduced this portion of this work (the outline merely) because it af-
fords a striking example of the Author's mode of reasoning by series from natural
to spiritual or mental laws, thus from the laws of physical to laws of mental harmony.
[7X
366 THE SOUL.
8. There is also an agreement or harmony of quantities.
9. That it may be understood how sounds or harmonic modes or
concords coincide we will demonstrate this by drawings. [The
author here refers to figures at the end of the work, and a de-
monstration of the figures follows. Tr.]
CO. Hence follow these common rules : — (i.) The more consonant
the sounds are, or the more they accord, the more frequent is
the coincidence [of intervals] in the same time and space, accord-
ing to the well known rule in musical theory, etc., etc. [Many
rules here follow. Tr.]
11. The quantities of sounds express affections.
12. The changes of state in the brain, and especially in the cortical
substance, take place in a similar manner.
13. Hence it follows that in the cortical substances of the brain
similar rules come to our notice as in the modifications of the
corresponding atmospheres.
14. And that changes of state in the substances of the brain observe
the same harmonic laws as do the fibres of which we have treated.
15 But perpetual collisions and conflicts will arise, and thus
innumerable other determinations and many contrary ones, al-
though this common form and action still continues. Hence will
arise perverse states even to the inmost, although in the be-
ginning the battle is between the exterior and the interior
modifications or changes. If the exterior conquers, the state of
the interior is perverted ; if the interior, then it celebrates its
triumphs, and as it were mortifies and extinguishes the exterior
states ; and so it asserts its liberty.
16. From these things it is apparent how the interior man fights
with the exterior in the rational mind.
********
17. Articulate sounds in the interior sensory are called ideas, and
they are either sensual, imaginative, or intellectual.
1 8. These same ideas are mere changes of state in the organic or
cortical substances.
19. These changes of state are impressed in the same way as the
ideas of the memory.
20. Therefore the memory is a field which is made up of the exter-
nal and internal senses.
F.
CONCLUSION CONCERNING THE INTELLECT AND ITS OPERATION.
The intellect with its faculties, or the rational mind, is granted
the human race in order that we may explore truths, or rationally
draw forth universals from singulars and generals from particulars,
hence causes from their effects or priors from posteriors, genera from
APPENDIX IL 367
their species and species from individuals; thus also varieties from
differences and hence qualities, accedents, modes from essences, and
from the nature of their operations ; then also in continued series
greatest from lesser, lesser from least, and so quantities ; the simul-
taneous from the successive, the present from the past, and contin-
gents from both; these things first in analytic and afterward in the
inverted or synthetic order; after the manner of a rational analysis
and of logic, also of a geometrical or specious analysis, the former
of these carrying its reasons to conclusions, the latter to equations ;
then in turn it resolves both conclusions and equations, and deter-
mines these to consequent ends.
Thus the truths into which so many simpler truths as essential
determinations enter are brought forth like analytic forms. By
means of these our mind brings itself to the knowledge of good and
of evil, both natural and moral, and at length spiritual. And these
things are provided to the end that we may know how to choose the
best; thence also to inquire after, to judge, and select the mediate
ends which lead to that ultimate or best, and to its possession and
fruition. And this is the work of science and of wisdom.
So far as we are affected with the love of the truly good, and
especially of the supreme and best, so far are we united to the same,
and so far is the state of our mind and soul rendered happier and
more perfect.
From these things it follows that the primary end of the intellect
given us is that we may rise by degrees from a natural into a moral,
and from a moral into a spiritual life ; so at length into heavenly
felicity, which shall be the continuation of the spiritual life.
368 THE SOUL.
APPENDIX III.
EXTRACTS FROM THE PSYCHOLOGICAL TREATISES
OF ARISTOTLE*
A.
FROM BOOK I., CHAPTER I.
" The soul is the principle of animals."
" Animated things possess motion and sensation."
The remainder of Book I. is occupied with a discussion of the various
ANCIENT DEFINITIONS OF SOUL.
Democritus: "A certain fire and heat."
" The spherical atoms are fire and soul."
"The soul imparts motion."
Pythagoras: "The soul is composed of motes in the air."
" The soul is what moves these."
Anaxagoras : "The soul is that which moves."
Etnpedocles : " It is composed of all the elements, and each of
these is soul."
Plato, in the Timaeus, describes the soul as being produced by
the elements.
Aristotle, in the Philosophy: — "Animal is from the idea of the
One."
"The first length and breadth and depth."
" Intellect is unity, Science is two, Opinion is a number of sur-
faces."
" Sense is the number of a solid."
" Numbers are said to be the forms of things and the principles
of beings, for they consist of elements."
Zenocrates : "The soul is number moving itself."
* The Treatises of Aristotle : translated from the Greek (with Copious Elucida-
tions from the Commentaries of Simplicius on the First Three of these Treatises),
by Thomas Taylor; London, printed for the translator by Robert Wilks, 89 Chauh-
cey Lane, 1808.
APPENDIX III. 369
Anaxagoras : " Soul and Intellect are different. Intellect is es-
pecially the principle of all being, the only thing simple, unmin-
gled, pure."
Diogenes : " The soul is air."
Heraclitus: " A principle, an exhalation, from which other things
consist."
" Most incorporeal and always flowing."
Alcmaeon: " Immortal being always moved."
Hippo : " The soul is water. The generative seed."
Critias: "The soul is blood. Sensation is present with the soul
by the nature of blood."
" All agree in defining the soul by three things, motion, sense, and
its being incorporeal."
" Those who define it by knowledge make it an element or from
elements." Thus they say, "The similar is known by the similar;
as the soul knows all things, it is composed of all principles."
CHAPTER III.
" If the soul moves it will have place."
" The soul if moved is moved by sensibles."
"The soul appears to move the body through a certain pre-
ele<5lion and intelligence."
"In consequence of the communion of the body with the soul,
the one acts, the other suffers ; one is moved, the other moves."
CHAPTER IV.
Another opinion is that, —
" The soul is a certain harmony."
" Harmony is a certain mixture and composition of contraries."
" But the soul cannot be one of things mingled."
" Harmony does not move, as does the soul."
"The soul cannot be moved according to place, except as in
subjects which are moved."
CHAPTER V.
ARE AFFECTIONS MOTIONS — JOY, FEAR, ETC. ?
" To say that the soul is angry is just as if some one should say
that the soul weaves or builds."
" It is better, perhaps, not to say that the soul communicates, or
learns, or reasons dianoetically, but that man does these through
the soul ; and this not as if nature were in the soul, but sometimes
as far as to, and sometimes from, the soul. Thus, for instance, sense
3/0 THE SOUL.
is from particular things, but reminiscence is from the soul to the
motions or permanencies, which are the instruments of the senses.
Intellect, however, appears to be ingenerated, being a certain essence
free from corruption."
"To reason dianoetically, and to love and hate, are not passions
of the intellect, but of this thing which contains intellect, so far as
it contains it."
" It is evident that the soul is not moved, not even by itself."
CHAPTER VI.
" Is ' to know ' to be affected by similars, and does the soul
'know' things by being similar to things? How does it know
the collected whole or God ?"
"Divinity then is most unwise, for He knows not strife which all
men know; but mortals will know all, because each is composed
of all."
" We know by contrariety, for by the straight we know both the
straight and the crooked, since a measuring rule is the judge of
both; but the crooked is neither a judge of itself nor of the
straight."
CHAPTER IX.
"The body does not connect the [parts of the] soul; but the
soul connects the body; hence when the soul departs the body is
dissipated."
BOOK II., CHAPTER I.
WHAT IS THE SOUL, AND WHAT IS ITS COMMON DEFINITION?
" The soul is an essence or the form of a natural body possessing
life in capacity. This essence is entelecheia. It is the entelecheia of
such a body; this is predicated in a twofold respect; partly as sci-
ence, partly as contemplation. The soul is as science. Owing to
the inherence of soul there is sleep and wakefulness; but wake-
fulness is analogous to actual contemplation, and sleep to the po-
tency, without the energy. In the same thing, however, science
is prior in generation."
Hence,
The soul is the first entelecheia of a natural body possessing life
in capacity [potentiality] ; but such a body is that which is organic.
It is therefore
" The first entelecheia of a natural organic body."
" As the eye is pupil and sight, so is the animal soul and body."
" The soul is not separable from the body, being the entelecheia
APPENDIX III. 371
of some of the parts ; but still some parts of the soul not enteleche-
ias of any body may be separated."
CHAPTER II.
" Animals are living things which have sense."
" The intellect appears to be another genus of soul, and it seems
that this alone can be separated in the same manner as the per-
petual from the corruptible. But with respect to the other parts of
the soul it is evident they are not separable, as some say."
" Essence is predicated in a threefold aspect : form, matter, and
the composition of the two. Matter is the potentiality, form is the
entelecheia (actuality). That which consists of both is animated ;
but the body is not the entelecheia of the soul, but the soul of a cer-
tain body. Hence those conceive well who are of opinion that the
soul is neither without body, nor is a certain body ; for it is not body,
but some thing pertaining to body."
" The soul is the entelecheia, the reason of that which has the ca-
pacity of being such a particular thing " (or the reason why a thing
has the potency of being a particular thing instead of something
else. Ed.).
CHAPTER III.
THE POWERS OF THE SOUL.
These are : —
Nutritive, sensitive, orectic, locomotive (according to place) and
dianoetic.
Plants have nutritive power; some nutritive and sensitive. If
sensitive also orectic ; for orexis or appetite is desire, anger, and
will.
Animals: all have sense of touch and thus are sensitive.
Touch is the sense of aliments [taste]. Touch is the sense of
dry and moist, of hot and cold.
Hunger is the desire of hot and dry ; thirst of the moist and
cold.
Animals have also the locomotive powers.
Man : " Men are possessed of the dianoetic power and intellect.
No sense is present without touch, but touch may be without other
senses."
" Sensitive animals possess in the slightest manner reasoning
and the dianoetic power."
CHAPTER IV.
NUTRITIVE AND GENERATIVE POWERS OF THE SOUL.
" Since corruptible things cannot remain one and the same in
372 THE SOUL.
number, and hence are not capable of eternity, in unceasing con-
tinuity, therefore that the animal and plant may participate in
eternity and divinity they naturally aspire each to make another
being such as itself: so it remains not itself but such as itself; not
one in number, but in species."
" In nourishing there are three things, viz. : —
That which is nourished ;
That which nourishes ;
That by which it nourishes.
The first is the body ;
The second is the soul ;
The third is the nutriment."
" But since it is just to denominate all things by the end, and
the end is to generate an offspring resembling that which generates,
the first soul will be generative of that which resembles itself."
"Nothing generates itself, but preserves itself."
CHAPTER V.
WHAT IS SENSE IN GENERAL?
" Sense happens in consequence of something being moved and
suffering, for it appears to be a certain change in quality."
" Sensitive power is not in actuality but in potentiality ; it does
not perceive itself."
" Sense in energy is sense of particulars ; science pertains to un-
iversals, and these are, in a certain respect, in the soul. Hence we
may energize intellectually whenever we please ; but it is not in our
powers so to perceive sensibly ; for this, a sensible object must be
present."
" The sensitive power suffers, not being similar ; but having suf-
fered it becomes similar, and is such as the sensible object."
CHAPTER VI.
EACH SENSE DISCUSSED.
"I. Sensibles are predicated as threefold :
Two are perceived essentially,
One accidentally.
One is peculiar to each sense.
One is common to all senses.
Colour is the peculiar object of sight.
Sound is the peculiar object of hearing.
Sapor is the peculiar object of taste.
Each sense forms a judgment of these sensibles. These are the
peculiar sensibles.
APPENDIX III. 373
But the common sensibles are: — motion, rest, number, figure,
magnitude.
" Sense suffers nothing as such from the sensibles, but from the
peculiarities of sensibles ; but of the things essentially sensible the
peculiarities are properly sensibles, and are the things to which the
essence of every sense is naturally referred."
CHAPTER VII.
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
" Light is neither fire, nor, in short, a body, nor the effluxion of
any body ; but it is the presence of fire or something of this kind in
that which is diaphanous ; for it is impossible that two bodies can
be at one and the same time in the same place."
" Colour moves that which is diaphanous, e. g., the air ; and by
this which is continued, the instrument of sensation or the senso-
rium is moved. It is impossible that it should be passively affedled
by the colour which is seen ; it must be therefore by that which is
intermediate; hence there must be an intermediate; and if there
were a vacuum we should not only not see accurately, but nothing
would be seen. The same is true of sound and colour ; for neither
of these by touching the sensorium produces sensation ; but by odour
and sound, that which is intermediate is moved, and from this each
sensorium. Where one places immediately on the sensorium that
which sounds or smells he will produce no sensation."
"The intermediate in respeft to sound is air: with odour it is
anonymous ; for there is a certain common passive quality in air
and water. As the diaphanous is to colour, so is that intermediate
nature in air and water to odour ; for aquatic animals also appear
to have a sense of odour, but man and such terrestrial animals as
respire are incapable of smelling without respiration."
CHAPTER VIII.
SOUND AND HEARING.
" Not every sound of an animal is a voice [word], for it is possible
to produce sound with the tongue as in coughing ; but it is neces-
sary that the thing which strikes should be animated, and accom-
panied with a certain phantasy; since voice [word] is a certain sound
significant, and is not the sound of respired air, like a cough."
CHAPTER IX.
SMELL.
" Inferior in man to its quality in the animal. Odours not being
very manifest we borrow appellations from taste, as sweet, acrid, etc.
Man smells only in respiring; in expiring or holding breath he
374 THE SOUL.
does not smell, even if the obje<5l of smell be placed in the nostrils.
It is peculiar to man that the objedl of sensation is not perceived
without respiration.* ,
The organ of smell has a covering as well as the eye ; in those
receiving the air it has a covering which when they respire is un-
covered, the veins and pores being dilated."
, CHAPTER X.
TASTE.
" That which is gustable is tangible, it is not sensible through an
intermediate body. Nothing but moisture produces the sense of
sapor, and sapor is the gustable."
CHAPTER XL
THE TOUCH : AND THE TANGIBLE.
" Sense placed in the sensorium does not perceive, but perceives
when placed in the flesh : hence flesh is the medium of the touch."
CHAPTER XII.
THE SENSES GENERALLY.
" Sense is that which is receptive of sensible forms without mat-
ter. Example: the wax receiving impression of the seal without
the seal itself."
That which perceives will be a certain magnitude ; but neither the
essence of the sensitive power nor sense is magnitude but it is a
certain reason and power of it.
BOOK III., CHAPTER III.
THE FIVE SENSES.
" To perceive sensibly is not the same with intellectual perception ;
for the perception of sense is always true of its object, and is present
with all animals, but it is possible to perceive falsely by the diano-
etic energy, and this power is present with only the animals having
reason. The phantasy is different from both sense and the dia-
noetic power ; the phantasy does not exist without sense, and hypo-
lepsis (opinion) is not without phantasy ; but phantasy and opinion
(hypolepsis) are not the same : phantasy is in our power ; we can im-
agine objedls and form images ; it is not in our power to opine when
we please, since it is necessary to opine falsely or truly. In opining
something atrocious we are co-passive (sympathetic) ; in phantasy
we are affected only as on looking at a dreadful picture."
* Compare no. 47. [ Tr.
APPENDIX III. 375
Hypolepsis embraces : science, opinion, prudence, and their con-
traries.*
CHAPTER IV.
PHANTASY AND HYPOLEPSIS.
"Intellectual perception, differing from sensible perception, em-
braces both phantasy and hypolepsis"
Phantasy is not sense : [it sees its vision as in sleep, without sense].
Sense is always present, but not phantasy. Animals have sense but
not phantasy. Senses are always true ; phantasies are mostly false.
Opinion, neither with sense nor through sense, nor the conjunction
of opinion and sense, will be phantasy.
Opinion is not of a certain other thing, but of that of which
sense is the perception.
The connection, from opinion and sense, of that which is white
(for example), is the phantasy.
CHAPTER V.
INTELLECTUAL PERCEPTION, HOW IT IS PRODUCED.
" Intellect of soul is only intellect in potentiality, its only nature
is that it is possible."
" Intellect of soul (I mean the intellect by which the soul energizes
dianoetically and hypoleptically) is nothing in energy of beings, be-
fore it intellectually perceives them. It is not reasonable that it
should be mingled with body, for thus it would become a thing with
a certain quality, would be hot or cold, would have an organ in the
manner of a sensitive power. Now there is no organ of it. They
speak properly who say the soul is the place of forms ; that is not
true of the whole soul, but of that which is intellective ; nor is its
form in entelecheia, but in capacity."
"The impassiveness of the sensitive and of the intellective power
is not similar, for sense cannot perceive from a "vehement sensible ob-
ject ; but intellect, when it understands any thing very intelligible,
does not the less understand inferior concerns, but even understands
them in a greater degree, for the sensitive power is not without body,
but intellect is separate [from body]."
" By the sensitive power it distinguishes the hot and the cold and
those things of which flesh is a certain reason ; but by another po wet-
either separate or on an inflected line subsisting with reference to
itself as extended, it distinguishes the essence of flesh. The very
nature of the thing (if the essence of the straight is different from
the straight thing) it distinguishes by another power ; it judges there-
fore by another power, or by a power subsisting in a different man-
* Compare Swedenborg's description of the Mixed IntelletSl, nos. 32, 136. [Tr.
376 THE SOUL.
ner. In short, as are the things which are separate from matter, so
also are the things pertaining to the intelle<5l.
Some one may doubt:
" If intellect is simple and impassive and has nothing in common
with anything, as Anaxagoras says, how it can perceive intellectually,
if to perceive intellectually is to suffer something ; for so far as some-
thing is common to both, the one appears to act, but the other to
suffer. Again, it may be doubted whether intellect is itself intelligi-
ble. For either intellect will be present with other things (if it is
not intelligible according to another thing, but is one certain thing
in species by itself) ; or it will have something mingled which will
make it to be intelligible in the same manner as other things. Or
shall we say that [the ability] to suffer subsists according to some-
thing common ? On which account it was before observed that
intellect is in potency, in a certain respect all intelligibles, but is no
one of these in entelecheia [actually] before it understands or per-
ceives intellectually."
" But it is necessary to conceive of it as of a table in which no-
thing is written in entelecheia [actuality] ; which happens to be the
case in intellect. It likewise is intelligible in the same manner as in-
telligibles. For in things which are without matter, intellect and that
which the intellect understands are the same. For theoretic science
and the object of scientific knowledge are the same. The cause,
however, why it does not always perceive intellectually, must be
considered. But in those things which have matter, each of the in-
telligibles resides only potentially. Hence intellect will not be pre-
sent with them, for the intellect of such things is potentiality with-
out matter. But with intellect the intelligible* will be present."
CHAPTER VI.
Since all things must have the matter capable of becoming all
things of its genus, and also the cause and effective, producing all
such things [as are in relation to matter] these differences must also
«xist in the soul. The one is the intellect which becomes all things,
but the other the intellect which produces all things.
For example : light causes colours in potency to become colours
in actuality. This intellect is separate, unmingled, and impassive,
since it is in its essence energy ; for the efficient is more honourable
than the patient; and the principle than matter. Science in en-
ergy (actuality) is the same as the thing [scientifically known], but
science in potency is prior in time, in the one [to science in energy] ;
* By intelligibles here Aristotle signifies separate essences or ideas themselves,
»'. €., beings truly and essentially intelligible. Hence Aristotle signifies that our intel-
lect is immaterial and separate, since it is essentially intelligible in the same manner
as beings truly intelligible." [Taylor's Note.
APPENDIX III. 377
though, in short, neither [is potency prior to energy] in time. It
does not, however, perceive intellectually at one time and at another
time not, but separate intellect is alone this very thing which it t's,*
and this alone is immortal and eternal. We do not, however, re-
member, because this [intellect] is impassive ; but the passive in-
tellect is corruptible, and, without this separate intellect, understands
nothing.
CHAPTER VII.
" The intellect knows evil or blackness in a certain respect, ' by
the contrary.' "
CHAPTER VIII.
" When intellect affirms or denies evil or good, it avoids or pur-
sues : hence the soul never perceives intellectually without a phan-
tasm Sometimes the intellective power, looking as it were
on the phantasms or conceptions which are in the soul, reasons and
consults about future events looking to such things as are present ;
and when it has asserted, in the phantasm, that a thing is pleasant
or painful, so here it avoids or pursues, and in short, is in action.
The true and the false also which are without action are in the
same genus with good and evil."
" If the intellect should understand anything in energy so far as
it has a cavity, [for instance,] it will understand it without the flesh
in which the cavity subsists. Thus it understands mathematical
forms which are not separate [from things formed] as separate,
when it understands them. In short, intellect which understands
in energy is the things themselves [which it understands]."
" Though the external senses are many, yet the ultimate sense in
which all the sensible energies are terminated is one, but is mani-
fold in its essence. By this ultimate and common sense, the soul
distinguishes the differences of the sensible objedls pertaining to the
different senses."
" As, therefore, there is one sense which forms a judgment of all
sensible objedls, so there is one practical intellect which forms a
judgment of all phantasms or objedls of imagination."
" As therefore the common sense contemplates and judges of the
sensibles which are known by the particular senses, so the practical
intellect contemplates the forms of things represented by phantasms
and known by the energies of imagination ; and as the common sense
when distinguishing sensible objects is excited to avoid or pursue,
so the practical intellect considering the objects of imagination, even
when sensibles are not present, and discursively concluding that
this is to be avoided and that is to be pursued, is moved to avoid-
ance or pursuit."
* Compare Swedenborg's " ipsum esse."
378 THE SOUL.
CHAPTER IX.
" A stone is not in the soul, but the form of the stone. The soul
is, as it were, a hand ; the hand is the organ of organs ; intellect is
the form of forms ; and sense is the form of sensibles."
"-When the intellect contemplates it must contemplate a certain
phantasm ; for phantasms are as sensible objects except that they
are without matter. The phantasy differs from affirmative or neg-
ative, for the true or the false is the connection of mental conceptions"
CHAPTER XI.
THE GENESIS OF MOTION.
" There are three things : first, that which moves [sets in motion] ;
second, that by which it moves; third that which is moved.
" What moves [/. <?., sets in motion] is two-fold : — the one [part]
immovable ; the other moving and moved.
" The immovable, indeed, is practical good. What moves and is
moved is appetitive power (since what desires is moved so far as it
desires, and appetite is a certain motion so far as it is an energy).
"That which is moved is the animal; and the organ by which
appetite moves, this is now corporeal."
CHAPTER XII.
" Animals have the sense of touch for the sake of existence ; but
all other senses for the sake of existing well."
" Without touch there can be no animal."
" The touch perceives by touching objects themselves ; all the
other senses perceive by touching, but through other things as
mediums."
B.
ON THE GENERATION OF ANIMALS.
"In the seed of all animals that is inherent which causes the
seed to be prolific, viz. ; that which is called heat. This, however, is
not fire nor a power of such a kind as fire, but a spirit which is com-
prehended in the seed and in the foamy substance of it ; and the na-
ture which is in the spirit is analogous to the element of the stars.
Hence fire germinates no animals, but the heat of the sun and
the heat of animals at the same time possess this -vital heat" — (De
Generatione Animalium, II.)
APPENDIX IV.
APPENDIX IV.
ERRATA IN THE TEXT OF THE LATIN EDITION.
PROPOSED BY THE TRANSLATOR.
Page 113, line 6 from below, for nam (leftio dubia, Tafel) read non.
" 121, " 18, for videmus read videmur.
" 128, " 3, for quae read qui.
" 157, " 10, for odimus restore the original adimus, changed by Tafel.
" 160, " 2 from below, for recipiuntur read recipiunt.
u 171, " 3 from below, for refosta read repostns.
" 191, " 14 from below, for quae read qui.
* 251, " 14 from below, for et consociari fossunt read ut consociari pouint.
THE SOUL.
INDEX
NOTE. — Thtfigttrts refer to paragraphs, not to pagt*.
Abraham, 555.
Abstract truths, 153.
Abstraction, need of, 508.
Acting, liberty of, 363.
Action, 24, 151.
Actions, beginnings of, 22.
summary of, 24.
tend downward, 17.
Adam, 332.
Adam's fall, 444, 533, 555.
Admiration, 320.
Adoration of Deity in heaven, 541.
Affections, 189, 380, 410.
Affections of the animus, 199,462 ; when
visible, 462.
rational, 200.
spiritual, 430.
Affirmative power, 326.
Algebra, 526.
Ambition, 215, 216.
spiritual, 218.
virtuous, 217.
Analogy, 176.
Angel, 431.
Angelic forms, 521.
Angelic knowledge, 562, 563.
speech, 541.
Anger, 252.
Anguish of the wicked in hell, 544.
Angular forms displeasing, 34.
Animal, brute, innate possessions of, 30.
forms assumed after death, 523.
spirit, 462.
Animalcule, 289.
Animus, 128, 291, 299, 340, 426.
loves novelties, 524.
Apparent death in swoons, etc., 505.
Appearances delusive, 506.
Appetite, 196.
Aristotle, 511.
compare with, 144.
Arithmetical ratio, 438.
Astuteness, 412.
Atmospheres, bodies formed from, 523.
variety of, 20.
Aura, knowledge of, 522.
Auras, communication by, 532.
Aurelia, 522.
Avarice, 233.
Bad, change from, to good difficult, 475
Battle between animus and spiritual
mind, 474.
Beauty, perception of, 31.
Bile, 462.
Birds, souls like, 522.
Blood, animus flows into, 462.
dissolution of, 491.
effect of changes in, 466.
middle, 1-7.
red, 1-7.
supereminent, i, Th. Hi.
vessel, formation of, i.
Bodily organs after death, 521.
Body, 4, 427.
celestial society whose soul is God,
449-
soul's, integrity of, 516.
the pattern of the soul, 463.
Bond of societies, 557.
Bones of the dead, 512.
Brain, 197.
cortical, 17.
the common sensory, Th. ix.
vertex, 19.
Bravery, 246.
Brute animal, innate possession of, 30,
Th. xi.
knowledge of, 22.
sensations of, 109.
superior senses of, 90.
Butterfly, 509, 522.
Calculus, 526.
Caterpillar, 509.
Causes of changes of state, 420.
acquired, 425.
knowledge of, 31.
Celestial form of soul's body, 524.
society in one body, 449.
Cerebrum, the common sensory, 42, 201 ,.
202.
Certitude, how attained, 567.
Chain of means, 283.
Change of animus effected by rational
mind, 469, 472.
of state in the soul, 566.
of state impossible, 531.
INDEX.
381
of state, causes of, 422.
no, after death, 528.
Changing states, faculty of, 357.
Charity, 238 ; works of, beneficial, 375.
Cherubim, 523.
Chief of hell, 545.
of societies, 539.
Choleric temperament, 482.
Christian knowledge, 511.
Cicero, 511.
Circular form, 181.
agreeable, 47.
City of God, 455, Th. xii.
Clemency, 229.
Colour, mingling of, 513.
rays, 76.
Combats, man's, with himself, 375.
Come to life, souls, 512.
Communication of minds, 532.
of mind and soul, Tk. viii.
of pure intellect and soul, 166.
Conception of soul, Th. viii.
Conclusion, 151, 360.
Concord of truths, 22.
Concurrence of soul, secret, 32.
Conflagration of the world, 512.
Conflict of loves, 368.
Conjugial love, 207.
hatred, 208.
Connection of primitives and derivatives,
460.
Conscience, 328.
the judge after death, Th. xii.
suffering caused by, 544.
Continuous-substantial, 2.
Contraries, happiness increased by, 543.
Controversies, source of, 22, 533.
Corporeal, 28, 427.
life, souls formed in, 528.
loves, concentration of, in the ra-
tional mind, 457, 459.
derivation of, 457, 459.
Correspondence, 471, 146, 379, 391.
key by, 567.
of organs of touch, 37.
of organs of vision, 98.
acquired, 161.
described, 166.
natural, 163-165, 187.
Cortex, 19.
of brain, 17.
universal, 18.
Cortical gland, 20, 95-97, 117, 124, 152,
153-
convolutions of, 21.
glandule, 23.
Cortical substances, 19, Th. ix., 125, 301.
Countenance is the animus expressed,
462, 465.
Creation, end of, 553.
Cribrous plate, 43.
Cruelty, 276.
Cunning, 412.
Curiosity, soul has no, 524.
Cutaneous covering, 35.
Dead bodies not to be disturbed, 512.
their shades return, 518.
Death, 486, 492, 494.
why necessary, 496, 497.
of rational mind, 506.
soul does not instantly fly in, 512.
spiritual, 504.
Deception, faculty of, 465.
Decorum, 333.
Deeds done in body will all reappear,
Th. xii.
Degrees, doctrine of, Th. i.
of composition in body, Th. hr.
Deity, all beings are full of, 549.
Delights, 210.
of heaven, 541.
of the sensories, 195.
Derivatives, connected with primitives,
460.
Descartes, quoted, 136.
theory of influx, 167.
Descent of love, 313.
Desires, 309.
of end, 29.
source of, 29.
Despair, 223.
Despicable, the most, of mortals, 245.
Destruction of forms, 488,
Determination, 151, 392, 394.
Devil, 406, 431.
contest of, for the soul, 474.
fears the truth, 454.
hates the truth, 454.
rebellion of, 555.
Devil's conscience, 328.
Diabolical love, 456, 437, 543.
souls enjoy perfect intelligence, 527.
Diastole of fibres in smell, 46.
Die, to, what it is, 489.
Difference of souls and minds, 533, 535,
558.
in states of wisdom, 526.
Discourse, 401.
Diseases, causes of, 202.
effect of, on the animus, 466, 471.
Dissolution of blood, 491.
of forms, 489.
Dissimulation, 408.
Distinct life of soul, 514.
Distinctions necessary to society, 534.
Disturbance of intellect, 513.
Divine, how far we are, 461.
image, 528.
means, 528.
Doctrine of correspondence unknown,
567.
Dormouse, mark of, 523.
Doubts regarding immortality, 452.
Dread, 241.
Dying, successive dissolution in, 488.
382
THE SOUL.
Ear, 15.
described, 49.
Earth, seminary of the kingdom of God,
538.
Education, 425.
Effect, 151, 399.
Effluvia, 43.
Elasticity, 23-25.
Elatery, 24, 25.
Elect, the, 559.
Election, 151.
Elementary body formed from atmo-
spheres, 523.
Ellipses, 181.
Embryo, intelligence of, 508.
Embryonic effects in soul, 523.
End of creation, 553.
a perfect society, 533.
principal, 56.
universal, 555.
Ends, 288, 390.
rational or corporeal, 29.
series of, 549.
superior and inferior, 29, 213.
Envy, 267.
Equality, nature abhors, 558.
Equations, in the mind, 566, 142, 150.
Equilibrium, 311.
Equity, 418.
Erebus, 548.
Erinnyes, 548.
Esse, 460, Th.. Hi.
Essence, animal, i.
Ether, bodies in, perceived bytLe soul,
48.
form of, 16
rays of, 88.
Evil, origin of, 555.
Executive faculty, how injured, 428.
Experiments, 31.
Expression of the face, 6, 463.
External forms perceived by what senses,
44-
Eye described, 68.
Faculty connate, 22.
Faith. 371, 475.
in our senses, 31.
Fallacies, 22.
liability to, 567.
Fame, love of, 225.
Fate, cause of; work in, 557, 561.
a, follows every one, 557.
Fear, 241, 263.
spirits governed by, 545.
Fibre, bodily, i.
of a celestial nature, 4.
medullary, i.
the simple, i, 174.
Fibres, affection diffused by, 464.
connection of, 18.
motor, hard, 17-28.
sensory, soft, 16, 17-23.
spring from intellectories, 464.
Finite love, 461.
Fire, elemental in last judgment, 495,
512-
Fluction, 21.
Fluid most pure, Th. i., vi., x.
Folly, 231.
Foot, sense of touch in, 37.
Force, the first, 27.
Forces of sound, 50.
Foresight of providence, 559.
Form, 30, 175, 178.
acquired, 30.
of the body, 463, 487.
circular, 16.
contrary of destruction, 498.
of forms, i, Th. ii.
harmony of natural, 30-176.
perpetuity of, 499.
perfection of, 30.
of soul after death, 522, 523.
spiral, 16.
spiritual, 500.
vortical, 16.
Formative substance, Th. ii.
Forms, destruction of, in series, 488.
diseases of, 12.
immortal, 6.
pleasing and displeasing, 34.
progression of, Th. vii., 178.
series of, 486, 499.
Fortitude, 246.
acquired, 251.
genuine, 247.
spurious, 247.
Fortune, work on, 561.
Four degrees of organs, Th. vi.
Fowler and bird, 556.
Free choice, free will, 327, 352, 361, 376.
permitted, 533, 555.
restrained, 557.
what it is. Th. x.
Friendship, 213.
Furies, 545, 548.
Future, desire to know the, 321.
form not in present, 522.
Generative organs, 205, 278.
Generosity, 227.
Genius, 147.
Geometrical ratio, 438.
Ghosts, 518.
Glandules, cortical, 23.
mutations of, 28.
unlike, 20, 21.
variety of, 28.
Glory of God, 542.
God, 193, 374. 377, 400. 4°5- 4*7. 4**>
the Esse, 460, Th. v.
image of, 374.
influx of, compared with light, Tk.v.
the omnipresent, 550.
the origin, 550.
INDEX.
3*3
the perpetual sustainer, 550.
property of, 550.
the sum of life, Th. T.
Good, 324.
the highest, 329.
Gordian knot, 567.
Government, perfect form of, 535, 554.
Grace of God necessary, 372(iii.),444,472.
Grandchildren, likeness of, 209.
Gravity, centre of, 25.
Greek authors, 511.
Gyre from sensation to action, 168.
Happiness flows from two fundamental
loves, 442.
of heaven, 541.
Happy souls, 523.
Harmonies, conservative forces, 28.
how effected, 186.
innate, 30.
natural, without art, 22, 30.
Harmonious images, ideas, 22.
variety, 20, 535.
Harmony, 27, 28, 564, 51, 179, 191.
co-established, 167.
pre-established, 167.
Hatred, 214.
conjugial, 208.
diabolical, 441, 544, 433.
human surpasses diabolical, 448.
immortality, 452.
increases in ratio, 439.
of one's body, 449.
of wisdom, 446.
Head, every society must have, 539.
Hearing, sense of, 49, 54.
Heaven, Th. xii. 540, 541, 537, 457, 511,
533-
the end of creation, 553.
Heavenly delight, 541.
Hell, 457, 511, 543, 546, 5
necessary, 543.
Heroes of the world, 211.
Higher forms contain lower, 565.
Highest limits, the, 332.
Highmore, antra of, 42.
Histories, sacred, 512.
Honorable, the, 266.
Hope, 223.
all lost, 546.
of rebellion, in hell, 545.
Human form, 486.
after death, 521, Th. xii.
intellect, how perfected, 155.
intellect impure, 156.
Humility, 219.
external, 221.
internal, 220.
Ideas, 22, 91, 103.
acquired, 30.
innate, 30.
origin of} 56, 57, 85, 153.
subordination of, 138.
in speech, 55.
of thought, 142.
Ignorance, our, of life after death, 523.
Image, love causes in another, 460.
Images, harmonies of, 22.
of sight, 86, 93, 97.
Imagination, 86, 92, 102, no, 113, 141.
in thought, 140.
Immortality, love of, 451, 225.
proof of, 510.
of soul, 498.
Impatience, 261.
Impiety, effects of, 452.
Impossible, things, to God, 555.
Impure intellect ceases at death, 525.
Inclination natural, 121.
Inclinations described, 477.
Indignation, 252, 256.
Inebriation, 21.
Infernal torment, 441.
Infinite love, 461.
Influx,
apparent, 160.
of animus into the body, 462.
of body into the animus, 466.
by correspondence, 167.
Influx of God into souls, 557.
heaven through our souls, 542.
occasional, 167.
physical, 167.
of rational mind into animus, 470.
of rational mind into spiritual mind,
476.
spiritual loves into rational mind,
476.
Innate harmonies, 30.
ideas in soul, Th. viii.
ideas, no, in mind, Th. viii.
perception of order, 30.
seeds of virtue and beauty, 30.
Insanities, cause of, 158.
Instinct, 171.
Integrity of soul's body, 510.
Intellect, 24, 357, 382, 411.
death of, 494.
mixed, 136 ; necessary, 32.
operations of, 24, in.
progress of, 147.
pure, 123.
Intellection, 24.
Intellectory, or pure intellect, 125, 126,
205,332,343,373.
action and knowledge of, 131.
concurrence of, 170.
how long it survives death, 495.
Intelligence, 420.
of the soul always the same, 525.
of diabolical souls, 527.
of the soul after death, 525.
innate, Th. viii.
rules nature, Th. iii.
Intemperance, 281.
3*4
THE SOUL.
Intercourse of soul and body, 159, Th.
ix.
Intermarriage forbidden, 533.
Intermediate ends, 284.
operations of mind, 24.
Intrepidity, 248.
Intuition, highest form of knowledge,
562.
Intuitive ideas of ends, Th. vii.
knowledge of most pure fluid, Th. ii.
Intuition, soul's, 532.
Jealousy, 441.
Jesus, Divine Humanity of, 539.
Joy, 201.
of heaven, 542.
Judas, 406.
Judgment, 147, 150, 325.
of conscience, 328.
of God, 328.
imperfections of our, 74.
last, 495, 546.
liberty in, 360.
Justice, 415.
Kant, reference to, 30.
Key of natural and spiritual mysteries,
567-
Kingdom of God, 455, 537, 538 ; who
constitute it, 538.
Kingdom come, Thy, 542.
Kisses and embraces signify, 519.
Knowledge attainable hereafter, 562.
experiment^, 31.
particular, after death, 529.
perfect in pure intellect, 131.
universal of pure intellect, 134.
Ladder of soul's descent, Th. vi.
Lasciviousness, 205.
Last Judgment, 452, 495.
Laugh, we shall, at our ignorance, 534.
Laughter, 22.
cause of, 201.
Law, 416.
Law of Laws, the, 538.
Leader of infernal societies, 545.
Leibnitz, theory of influx, 167.
Lenses of the eye, 68.
Lethargy, 25.
Liberality, 237.
Liberty, 351, 354, 365, 370, 398.
its four constituents, 373.
of intellection, 360.
of thought, 360.
of judgment, 360.
of conclusion, 360.
of resolution, 360.
of acting, 363.
of deciding, 364.
of souls, 533.
of the soul, 400.
License, 355.
Life of soul obscure in body after death,
5*3-
Live, truly to live is, 504.
Locke quoted, 562.
Love of self the first of loves, 28.
multiplication of, 438.
the birth and descent of, 313.
ratio of increase of, 438.
of a being above oneself, 432.
of being near the beloved, 440.
of God, 440.
of the neighbour, 434.
of being remote from God, 441.
of eminence, 442.
pure, 442-460.
conjugial, 207.
of self, 443,437.
venereal, 205.
of ruling, 443, 445.
of friends, 213.
of wisdom, 444.
of children, 209.
of propagating celestial society by
natural means, 447.
celestial society, 209.
of multiplying oneself, 447.
of the world, 228.
of destroying, 448.
of country, 210.
of one's own body universal, 449.
of society, 210.
of solitude, 275.
of immortality, 451.
implies power of change, 451.
of propagating the kingdom and
city of God, 455.
of the body mutual, 519.
of Deity, 459, 421.
Divine, 460, 213.
mutual, 460.
the bond of connection, 460.
infinite and finite, 461.
of understanding, 318.
of being wise, 318.
of knowing hidden things, 319.
of foreknowing the future, 321.
of truths, 323.
of principles, 322.
of good and evil, 324.
of virtues and of vice, 333.
of souls, 213.
Loves, the various, 203, 366, 367.
of the soul, 429.
derivative, 28-30.
natural and acquired, 213.
Lowliness of mind, 222.
Macrocosm, 21.
Madness of spirits in hell, 546.
Magnanimity, 229.
INDEX.
385
Magnetic force. 502.
Malice, 413.
Man, 345.
internal and external, 350.
the most perfect, 374.
naturally good, 459.
all things for the sake of, 553.
Mammillary processes, 18, 43, 45.
Many heads many minds, 558.
Marks, embryonic, in body, 523.
Marriage, Providence regarding, 533, 558.
Material ideas, 541.
Mater pia, 18.
Mathematical philosophy of universals,
Th.-L.
Mathesis universal, 562, 561.
Means to principal end, 560.
Mediation of the animus, Th. viii.
Medulla, 154.
Meetingof affections in rational mind,3i3
Melancholic temperament, 482.
Melancholy, 202.
Membranes of tympanum, 49.
;Memory, 106, no, 119.
no, after swoons, 514.
soul's, after death, 530.
Mendacious and false things necessary,
157-
Mens, 290.
Messiah, 406.
Microcosm, 21.
Mind not such as is the soul, 459.
rules over nature, 464.
rules over the body, 464.
Mind's intelligence a posteriori, Th. viii.
Mind [metis], 290, 300-306, 383, 386.
the spiritual, 305.
superior, 305, 387.
the rational, 305, 306, 384.
Minds, spiritual, 350.
Miracles, 320.
Misanthropy, 273,
Miser, the, 235.
Misery of hell, 546.
Mixed intellect necessary, 32, 136.
Moderator, the rational mind file, 311,
3.68.
Modifications, 182, 185.
of ether, 16.
of air, 16.
Moral sun, Th. v.
Morality dependent on free will, 555.
Motion, vortical, 21.
Motory organs, Th. vi., 61.
Mundane things, 228.
Music, how it refreshes, 65.
Mutations of state, 396, 397, 411, 422.
Myriads of ether particles permeate the
pores, 502.
Mysteries, impenetrable, 495.
key of, 507.
Natural determining principle, Th. vi.
Nature, the nature of, 20.
subject to spiritual mind, 464.
abhors equality, 558.
Negation, power of, 326.
Nerve, common, of the senses, 42.
optic, 18.
olfactory, 18.
of the fifth pair, 42.
intercostal, 42.
of seventh pair, 42.
of eighth pair, 42.
of ninth pair, 42.
Nervus vagus, 42.
New heaven and new earth, 521.
Niggardliness, 235.
Nostrils, 43.
Novelties, love of, 524.
Nymphae, changes of, 522.
Obedience of the body, 523.
Ocean of forms swimming in ether, 48.
Offspring as self multiplied, 447.
Olfactory nerves, 43.
Omnipresence of God, 550.
of Divine Spirit, 516.
Operations, mental, series of, 24.
Opinions, sources of, 22.
common, of death, 512.
Opposites, knowledge by, 543.
Optic nerve, 81.
Optics, 31.
Order of truths, 564.
Origin of evil, 555.
not in created things, 550.
Organs are forms, 493.
diversity of, 188.
in their order, Th. vi.
Papillae, organic, of touch, 35-37.
taste, 39.
Parental love, 209.
Passion, 23.
Passions, 298.
Past life remembered, 530.
Patience, 257.
effects of, in the body, 258.
effects of, in the mind, 259.
Peculiar providence for the elect, 559.
Perception, 105.
passive, 25.
of change, the soul's, 38.
first, 26.
Perfect and imperfect, 501.
society of souls, 534.
Perfection of touch, 36.
of form, 501.
of form, wherein it consists, 180.
Permission, the soul's, 172.
Perpetuity of form, 498.
Phlegmatic temperament, 482.
Physical sun, Th. v.
Pity, 238.
386
THE SOUL.
Place, idea of, vanishes, 498.
existence of, 516.
Plants burned resume form, 517.
Plato, 511, 548.
Pleasant objects of desire, 194.
Pleasure, 27.
Pleasures of the body, 459.
Point, first living, Th. ii.
Political difference inspired, 558.
Possibility of a contrary, 451.
Poverty, kinds of, 240.
Power of heavenly societies, 547.
Power of good souls on the bad, 544.
why given to the devil, 448.
higher and lower, 438.
Praises of God in heaven, 541.
Prayer, 372.
necessary, 444, 472.
confused by natural thoughts, 367.
Predestination, work on, 561.
Prenatal causes, 424.
Presence and absence of mind, 147.
Present, future embraced in, 552.
Preservation of self in posterity, 205.
Preserver, the, 539.
Pride, 462.
Principles, 31.
love of, 322.
knowledge of, 31.
three determining, Th. vi.
Prodigality, 237.
Progress of loves, 313.
of the intellect, 147.
Progression of forms in ascending and
descending, Th. vii.
Providence, particular, 551.
in distinguishing particulars,S34,5s8.
work on, 561.
the Divine, 549, 377, 405.
Prudence, human, 405.
Psychology, 289.
Pure intelligence, soul is, 526.
Punishment known by intuition, 546.
Pusillanimity, 232.
Pythagoras, 511, 548.
Radical change of animus difficult, 468.
Ratio, 438.
Ratiocinations, 22.
Rational mind, death of, 494, 506.
mind, the, 305-307 seq., 316, 339,
342, 344, 348, 352, 357.
mind the mediator, 369.
mind, loves of, 315, 338, 367.
liberty, 353.
Rays of colour, 76.
visual, 81.
of ether, 88.
Reasons, 148.
why liberty is allowed, 377.
Recede, material ideas, 508.
Reception of life in body, TTi. iv.
Release of soul from its bonds, 512.
Religion, 455.
a restraint, 557.
Remains, soul, in body, 512.
Representations, key by, 567.
Representative, this world, 555.
Resolution, 300.
Restraints to free will, 557.
Resumption of form after death, 517.
Revealed truth, 475.
Revelation, 560.
Revenge, 270, 277.
Roses burned resume shape, 517.
Rules to be premised, 567.
Sacraments, 372.
Sadness, 202.
Saints, bones of, 512.
Samuel revived, 512.
Sanguine temperament, 482.
Saviour, the, 539.
Scales, affections weighed in, 369.
Schisms, source of, 533.
Science, 324, 419.
of sciences, 503.
Scriptures, Sacred, 511, 372.
Self-love, 28, 443, 215.
preservation, end of, 29.
Seminaries of heaven, 555.
Sensations, 31, 493, 197.
rational, 26.
interior, 26.
tend upward, 17.
a trembling, 18.
causes of, 33.
more perfect:, 19.
spiral motions, 21.
vortical motions, ax.
disharmony of, 22.
end of, 22.
Senses, external, 31.
internal, 31.
organs of, 15, Th. vi.
Sensory, common, 26, Th. ix., ja.
internal and external, 118.
organs, Th. vi.
external, death of, 494.
Sensories, 302.
order among, 20.
Separation of substances, 512.
Seraphim, 523.
Series of ends, 549.
Shades of the dead return, 518.
Shadow, bodily life a, 541.
Shame, 262.
Shepherds, visions of, 523.
Shrubs burned resume form, 517.
Sight, 68, 101.
soul's power of, 516.
external, 94.
internal, 122.
use of, 70.
comparative reach of, 72.
Silkworm, ignorance of, 522.
INDEX.
387
3.mple cortex, 139.
Simulation, 408.
Simultaneous knowledge of pure intel-
ledl, 132.
Sincerity, 414.
Slavery, 355.
Sleep, 25.
Smell, sense of, 43.
Sneezing, 46.
Society of entities in the soul, 514.
of happy souls, 533.
human, how preserved, 558.
. Societies are forms, 212.
Socrates, 511.
Solitude, love of, 273, 275.
Somnambulist, 113. '
Sophists, 511.
Soul, 349.
is pure intelligence, 22.
immortality of, 498.
the supreme form, 501.
is order, law, and truth, 31.
concurrence of, 32.
esse of the body, 460, 512, 159.
intangible to earthly things, 502.
Soul's universal knowledge, 506,563-565.
concurrence with body, 173.
intercourse with body, 159, 174.
wisdom after death, 525.
intelligence after death, 525.
intelligence always the same, 525.
Souls, life of, 508, 509.
ends of, 213.
state of after death, 511.
form of after death, 521, 522.
all distinct, 520.
of infants, 523.
unchanged after death, 528.
Sound described, 50.
differences of, 66.
Speaking nerve, 42.
Speech, 23, 171, 116, 135, 403
angelic, 55,
of angels, 541.
of brutes, 59.
Spiral motions, 21.
form of brain, 45.
Spirit, Divine, omnipresence of, 516.
Divine, holds body together, 516.
Divine, acts on the soul, Th. x.
Spiritual love, how it descends into na-
ture, 447.
life, 451.
death, 451.
loves, fountain of all corporeal loves,
457-
interests of man, means to, 560.
delights, 541.
determining principle, Tk. vi.
mind, 340.
loves, 429.
love of neighbour, 436.
Spirituous fluid, Th. vi.
indestructible. Th. xii.
immortal, Th. xii.
State, 179.
Storge, 209.
Styx, 548.
Sublime mind, a, 264.
Substance, first, of body, Th. i.
soul the, 512.
Substances are affected in sensations,
493-
Successive changes of form, 184.
knowledges of rational mind, 132;
144.
Suffering in hell, 544, 548.
Suns, two, Th. v.
Sustentation perpetual, 550.
Systole and diastole of brain, 169.
Tantalus, 548.
Taste, cause of, 33.
sense of, 38.
organ of, 40.
Temperance, 288.
Temperaments, 482, 484.
Temptations resisted, 376.
yielded to, 376.
Theology, mysteries of, Th. v.
Thought, 136, 139, 140, 142, 143, 149,
152.
origin of, 27.
death of, 506.
influx into, 506.
withdrawn, and soul still lives, 506.
liberty of, 360.
Throne of God, 539.
Tongue described, 39.
in speech, 402.
Torment, infernal, 441.
Touch, sense of, 35, 205.
perfection of, 36.
Tranquility of the pure intellect, 154.
Transcendental truths, 30.
Transition of intellection into will, 26,
27.
Tribunal of the conscience after death,
Th. vii.
Truth, 324.
naturally implanted, 30.
the highest, 339.
Truths, concord of, 22.
love of, 322.
natural, 22.
commingled, 22.
transcendental, 30.
naked, 563.
apparent, 31.
Tunic, i.
Tunics of the eye, 68.
Tympanum, 49.
Unchanged, souls remain, after death,
528
Understand, to, is, 513, 148.
THE SOUL.
Understanding, 357.
Unitor. God the, 547.
Unity perfect, 537.
Universal knowledge of the soul, 506,
524, 532.
church, 539.
ideas, 154.
kingdom in God, 538.
mathesis, 562.
Universals, philosophy of, 562.
Universe the work of God, 550.
Unknown to the world, doctrine of cor-
respondence, 577.
Use, each thing has its, 549.
Uses, series of, 549.
Variation necessary, 157.
Variety of forms after death, 523.
in a perfect society, 535.
harmonical, 533.
spiritual not external, 536.
Vegetative lives, 517.
Veneration, 219.
Venereal love, 204.
love and cruelty alike, 278.
hatred and aversion, 206.
Verifying virtue of intelligence, TA. iv.
Vessel, arterial, i.
first, second, third, i.
emulous of the fibre, 18.
Vibration of sound, 63.
Vice, 226, 216, 287, 334, 409.
Violate dead bodies, to, forbidden, 512.
Virtue, 226, 217, 286, 333, 335, 336. 407.
Virtues, the three spiritual, 223.
Vortical form of body, 524,
motion, 21.
Wealth, contempt of, 237.
love of, 234.
Weeping, 202.
Weight, what is without, cannot be de-
stroyed, 503.
Will, 378, 388, 24, 151, 171, 313, 337.
active, 25.
determination of, 29.
Thy, be done, 542.
Wisdom, 524, 421.
love of, 444, 460.
hatred of, 446.
the soul's after death, 535.
souls differ as to, 526.
of first e sse, TA. iii.
Womb, causes in the, 424.
Wonder, 319.
Words, 401.
imperfect speech by, 541.
meaning of, 55.
World, this, representative of future.
555-
and worlds, 210.
Worship, use of, 557, 378.
Zeal. 453, 454, 253.
excited only by contraries, 453.
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