Meditat. II.Of the nature of Mans mind, and that ’tis easier proved tobethen ourbody.

By yesterdays Meditation I am cast into so great Doubts, that I shall never forget them, and yet I know not how to answer them, but being plunged on a suddain into a deep Gulf, I am so amazed that I can neither touch the bottome, nor swim at the top.

Nevertheless, I will endeavour once more, and try the way I set on yesterday, by removing from me whatever is in the least doubtful, as if I had certainly discover’d it to be altogether false, and will proceed till I find out some certainty, or if nothing else, yet at least this certainty, That there is nothing sure.

Archimedes required but a point which was firm, and immoveable that he might move the whole Earth, so in the perfect undertaking Great things may be expected, if I can discover but the least thing that is true and indisputable.

Wherefore I suppose all things I see are false, and believe that nothing of those things are really existent, which my deceitful memory represents to me; ’tis evident I have no senses, that a Body, Figure, Extension, Motion, Place, &c. are meer Fictions; what thing therefore is there that is true? perhaps only this, That there is nothing certain.

But how know I that there is nothing distinct from all these things (which I have now reckon’d) of which I have no reason to doubt? Is there no God (or whatever other name I may call him) who has put these thoughts into me? Yet why should I think this? When I my self perhaps am the Author of them. Upon which Account, therefore must not I be something? ’tis but just now that I denied that I had any senses, or any Body. Hold a while—Am I so tied to a Body and senses that I cannot exist without them? But I have perswaded my self that there is nothing in the World, no Heaven, no Earth, no Souls, no Bodies; and then why not, that I my self am not?

But there is I know not what sort of Deceivour very powerful and very crafty, who always strives to deceive Me; without Doubt therefore I am, if he can decieve me; And let him Deceive me as much as he can, yet he can never make me not to Be, whilst I think that I am. Wherefore I may lay this down as a Principle, that whenever this sentence I am, I exist, is spoken or thought of by Me, ’tis necessarily True.

But I do not yet fully understand who I am that now necessarily exist, and I must hereafter take care, least I foolishly mistake some other thing for my self, and by that means be deceived in that thought, which I defend as the most certain and evident of all.

Wherefore I will again Recollect, what I believed my self to be heretofore, before I had set upon these Meditations, from which Notion I will withdraw whatever may be Disproved by the Foremention’d Reasons, that in the End, That only may Remain which is True and indisputable.

What therefore have I heretofore thought my self? A Man. But what is a man? Shall I answer, a Rational Animal?

But I shall rather here Consider, what heretofore represented it self to my thoughts freely, and naturally, whenever I set my self to understand What I my self was.

And the first thing I find Representing it self is, that I have Face, Hands, Arms, and this whole frame of parts which is seen in my Body, and which I call my Body.

The next thing represented to me was, that I was nourish’d, could walk, had senses, and could Think; which functions I attributed to my Soul. Yet what this soul of mine was, I did not fully conceive; or else supposed it a small thing like wind, or fire, or aire, infused through my stronger parts.

As to my Body truly I doubted not, but that I rightly understood its Nature, which (if I should endeavour to describe as I conceive it) I should thus Explain, viz.

But How now (since I suppose a certain powerful and (if it be lawful to call him so) evil deluder, who useth all his endeavours to deceive me in all things) can I affirme that I have any of those things, which I have now said belong to the nature of a Body? Hold— Let me Consider—, Let me think—, Let me reflect— I can find no Answer, and I am weary with repeating the same things over-again in vain.

But Which of these Faculties did I attribute to my Soul, my Nutritive, or Motive faculty? yet now seeing I have no Body, these also are meer delusions. Was it my sensitive faculty? But this also cannot be perform’d without a Body, and I have seem’d to perceive many things in my sleep, of which I afterwards understood my self not to be sensible. Was it my Cogitative Faculty? Here I have discovered it, ’tis my Thought, this alone cannot be separated from Me, I am, I exist,⸺tis true, but for what time Am I? Why I am as long as I think; For it May be that When I cease from thinking, I may cease from being. Now I admit of nothing but what is necessarily true: In short therefore I am only a thinking thing that is to say, a mind, or a soul, or understanding, or Reason, words which formerly I understood not; I am a Real thing, and Really Existent, But what sort of thing? I have just now said it, A thinking thing.

But am I nothing besides? I will consider⸺I am not that structure of parts, which is called a Mans Body, neither am I any sort of thin Air infused into those Parts, nor a Wind, nor Fire, nor Vapour, nor Breath, nor whatever I my self can feign, for all these things I have supposed not to Be. Yet my Position stands firm; Nevertheless I am something. Yet perhaps it so falls out that these very things which I suppose not to exist (because to me unknown) are in reallity nothing different from that very Self, which I know. I cannot tell, I dispute it not now, I can only give my opinion of those things whereof I have some knowledge.

And this very Word (feign) puts me in mind of my error, for I should feign in deed, if I should imagine my self any thing; for to imagine is nothing else but to think upon the shape or image of a corporeal thing; but now I certainly know that I am, and I know also that ’tis possible that all these images, and generally whatever belongs to the Nature of a Body are nothing but deluding Dreams. Which things Consider’d I should be no less Foolish in saying, I will imagine that I may more throughly understand what I am, then if I should say, at Present I am awake and perceive something true, but because it appears not evidently enough, I shall endeavour to sleep, that in a Dream I may perceive it more evidently and truely.

Wherefore I know that nothing that I can comprehend by my imagination, can belong to the Notion I have of my self, and that I must carefully withdraw my mind from those things that it may more distinctly perceive its own Nature.

Let me ask therefore What I am, A Thinking Thing, but What is That? That is a thing, doubting, understanding, affirming, denying, willing, nilling, imagining also, and sensitive. These truely are not a few Properties, if they all belong to Me. And Why should they Not belong to me? For am not I the very same who at present doubt almost of All things; yet understand something, which thing onely I affirm to be true, I deny all other things, I am willing to know more, I would not be deceived, I imagine many things unwillingly, and consider many things as coming to me by my senses. Which of all these faculties is it, which is not as true as that I Exist, tho I should sleep, or my Creatour should as much as in him lay, strive to deceive Me? which of them is it that is distinct from my thought? which of them is it that can be seperated from me? For that I am the same that doubt, understand, and will is so evident, that I know not how to explain it more manifestly, and that I also am the same that imagine, for tho perhaps (as I have supposed) no thing that can be imagined is true, yet the imaginative Power it self is really existent, and makes up a part of my Thought; and last of all that I am the same that am sensitive, or perceive corporeal things as by my senses, yet that I now see light, hear a noise, feel heat, these things are false, for I suppose my self asleep, but I know that I see, hear, and am heated, that cannot be false; and this it is that in me is properly called Sense, and this strictly taken is the same with thought.

By these Considerations I begin a little better to understand My self what I am; But yet it seems, and I cannot but think that Corporeal Things (whose Images are formed in my thought, and which by my senses, I perceive) are much more distinctly known, then that confused Notion of My Self which imagination cannot afford me. And yet ’tis strange that things doubtful, unknown, distinct from Me, should be apprehended more clearly by Me, then a Thing that is True, then a thing that is known, or then I my self; But the Reason is, that my Mind loves to wander, and suffers not it self to be bounded within the strict limits of Truth.

Let it therefore Wander, and once more let me give it the Free Reins, that hereafter being conveniently curbed, it may suffer it self to be more easily Govern’d.

Let me consider those things which of all Things I formerly conceived most evident, that is to say, Bodies which we touch, which we see, not bodies in General (for those General Conceptions are usually Confused) but some one Body in particular.

Let us chuse for example this piece of Bees-wax, it was lately taken from the Comb, it has not yet lost all the tast of the Honey, it retains something of the smell of the Flowers from whence ’twas gather’d, its colour, shape, and bigness are manifest, ’tis hard, ’tis cold, ’tis easily felt, and if you will knock it with your finger, ’twill make a noise: In fine, it hath all things requisite to the most perfect notion of a Body.

But behold whilst I am speaking, ’tis put to the Fire, its tast is purged away, the smell is vanish’d, the colour is changed, the shape is alter’d, its bulk is increased, its become soft, ’tis hot, it can scarce be felt, and now (though you strike it) it makes no noise. Does it yet continue the same Wax? surely it does, this all confess, no one denies it, no one doubts it. What therefore was there in it that was so evidently known? surely none of those things which I perceived by my senses; for what I smelt, tasted, have seen, felt, or heard, are all vanish’d, and yet the Wax remains. Perhaps ’twas this only that I now think on, viz. that the Wax it self was not that tast of Honey, that smell of Flowers, that whiteness, that shape, or that sound, but it was a Body which awhile before appear’d to me so and so modified, but now otherwise. But what is it strictly that I thus imagine? let me consider: And having rejected whatever belongs not to the Wax, let me see what will remain, viz. this only, a thing extended, flexible, and mutable. But what is this flexible, and mutable? is it that I imagine that this Wax from being round may be made square, or from being square can be made triangular? No, this is not it; for I conceive it capable of innumerable such changes, and yet I cannot by my imagination run over these Innumerables; Wherefore this notion of its mutability proceeds not from my imagination. What then is extended? is not its Extension also unknown? For when it melts ’tis greater, when it boils ’tis greater, and yet greater when the heat is increas’d; and I should not rightly judge of the Wax, did I not think it capable of more various Extensions than I can imagine. It remains therefore for me only to confess, that I cannot imagine what this Wax is, but that I perceive with my Mind what it is. I speak of this particular Wax, for of Wax in general the notion is more clear.

But what Wax is this that I only conceive by my mind? ’Tis the same which I see, which I touch, which I imagine, and in fine, the same which at first I judged it to be. But this is to be noted, that the perception thereof is not sight, the touch, or the imagination thereof; neither was it ever so, though at first it seem’d so. But the perception thereof is the inspection or beholding of the Mind only, which may be either imperfect and confused, as formerly it was; or clear and distinct, as now it is; the more or the less I consider the Composition of the Wax.

In the interim, I cannot but admire how prone my mind is to erre; for though I revolve these things with my self silently, and without speaking, yet am I intangled in meer words, and am almost deceived by the usual way of expression; for we commonly say, that we see the Wax it self if it be present, and not, that we judge it present by its colour or shape; from whence I should immediately thus conclude, therefore the Wax is known by the sight of the eye, and not by the inspection of the mind only. Thus I should have concluded, had not I by chance look’d out of my window, and seen men passing by in the Street; which men I as usually say that I see, as I do now, that I see this Wax; and yet I see nothing but their Hair and Garments, which perhaps may cover only artificial Machines and movements, but I judge them to be men; so that what I thought I only saw with my eyes, I comprehend by my Judicative Faculty, which is my Soul. But it becomes not one, who desires to be wiser than the Vulgar, to draw matter of doubt from those ways of expression, which the Vulgar have invented.

Wherefore let us proceed and consider, whether I perceived more perfectly and evidently what the Wax was, when I first look’d on’t, and believed that I knew it by my outward senses, or at least by my common sense (as they call it) that is to say, by my imagination; or whether at present I better understand it, after I have more diligently enquired both what it is, and how it may be known. Surely it would be a foolish thing to make it matter of doubt to know which of these parts are true; What was there in my first perception that was distinct? What was there that seem’d not incident to every other Animal?

But what shall I now say as to my mind, or my self? (for as yet I admit nothing as belonging to me but a mind.) Why (shall I say?) should not I, who seem to perceive this Wax so distinctly, know my self not only more truly and more certainly, but more distinctly and evidently? For if I judge that this Wax exists, because I see this Wax; surely it will be much more evident, that I my self exist, because I see this Wax; for it may be that this that I see is not really Wax, also it may be that I have no eyes wherewith to see any thing; but it cannot be, when I see, or (which is the same thing) when I think that I see, that I who think should not exist. The same thing will follow if I judge that this Wax exists, because I touch, or imagine it, &c. And what has been said of Wax, may be apply’d to all other outward things.

Moreover, if the notion of Wax seems more distinct after it is made known to me, not only by my sight or touch, but by more and other causes; How much the more distinctly must I confess my self known unto my self, seeing that all sort of reasoning which furthers me in the perception of Wax, or any other Body, does also encrease the proofs of the nature of my Mind. But there are so many more things in the very Mind it self, by which the notion of it may be made more distinct, that those things which drawn from Body conduce to its knowledge are scarce to be mention’d.

And now behold of my own accord am I come to the place I would be in; for seeing I have now discover’d that Bodies themselves are not properly perceived by our senses or imagination, but only by our understanding, and are not therefore perceived, because they are felt or seen, but because they are understood; it plainly appears to me, that nothing can possibly be perceived by me easier, or more evidently, than my Mind.

But because I cannot so soon shake off the Acquaintance of my former Opinion, I am willing to stop here, that this my new knowledge may be better fixt in my memory the longer I meditate thereon.