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PART VI
Three years have now elapsed since I finished the treatise containing all
these matters; and I was beginning to revise it, with the view to put it
into the hands of a printer, when I learned that persons to whom I greatly
defer, and whose authority over my actions is hardly less influential than
is my own reason over my thoughts, had condemned a certain doctrine in
physics, published a short time previously by another individual to which
I will not say that I adhered, but only that, previously to their censure
I had observed in it nothing which I could imagine to be prejudicial
either to religion or to the state, and nothing therefore which would have
prevented me from giving expression to it in writing, if reason had
persuaded me of its truth; and this led me to fear lest among my own
doctrines likewise some one might be found in which I had departed from
the truth, notwithstanding the great care I have always taken not to
accord belief to new opinions of which I had not the most certain
demonstrations, and not to give expression to aught that might tend to the
hurt of any one. This has been sufficient to make me alter my purpose of
publishing them; for although the reasons by which I had been induced to
take this resolution were very strong, yet my inclination, which has
always been hostile to writing books, enabled me immediately to discover
other considerations sufficient to excuse me for not undertaking the task.
And these reasons, on one side and the other, are such, that not only is
it in some measure my interest here to state them, but that of the public,
perhaps, to know them.
I have never made much account of what has proceeded from my own mind; and
so long as I gathered no other advantage from the method I employ beyond
satisfying myself on some difficulties belonging to the speculative
sciences, or endeavoring to regulate my actions according to the
principles it taught me, I never thought myself bound to publish anything
respecting it. For in what regards manners, every one is so full of his
own wisdom, that there might be found as many reformers as heads, if any
were allowed to take upon themselves the task of mending them, except
those whom God has constituted the supreme rulers of his people or to whom
he has given sufficient grace and zeal to be prophets; and although my
speculations greatly pleased myself, I believed that others had theirs,
which perhaps pleased them still more. But as soon as I had acquired some
general notions respecting physics, and beginning to make trial of them in
various particular difficulties, had observed how far they can carry us,
and how much they differ from the principles that have been employed up to
the present time, I believed that I could not keep them concealed without
sinning grievously against the law by which we are bound to promote, as
far as in us lies, the general good of mankind. For by them I perceived it
to be possible to arrive at knowledge highly useful in life; and in room
of the speculative philosophy usually taught in the schools, to discover a
practical, by means of which, knowing the force and action of fire, water,
air the stars, the heavens, and all the other bodies that surround us, as
distinctly as we know the various crafts of our artisans, we might also
apply them in the same way to all the uses to which they are adapted, and
thus render ourselves the lords and possessors of nature. And this is a
result to be desired, not only in order to the invention of an infinity of
arts, by which we might be enabled to enjoy without any trouble the fruits
of the earth, and all its comforts, but also and especially for the
preservation of health, which is without doubt, of all the blessings of
this life, the first and fundamental one; for the mind is so intimately
dependent upon the condition and relation of the organs of the body, that
if any means can ever be found to render men wiser and more ingenious than
hitherto, I believe that it is in medicine they must be sought for. It is
true that the science of medicine, as it now exists, contains few things
whose utility is very remarkable: but without any wish to depreciate it, I
am confident that there is no one, even among those whose profession it
is, who does not admit that all at present known in it is almost nothing
in comparison of what remains to be discovered; and that we could free
ourselves from an infinity of maladies of body as well as of mind, and
perhaps also even from the debility of age, if we had sufficiently ample
knowledge of their causes, and of all the remedies provided for us by
nature. But since I designed to employ my whole life in the search after
so necessary a science, and since I had fallen in with a path which seems
to me such, that if any one follow it he must inevitably reach the end
desired, unless he be hindered either by the shortness of life or the want
of experiments, I judged that there could be no more effectual provision
against these two impediments than if I were faithfully to communicate to
the public all the little I might myself have found, and incite men of
superior genius to strive to proceed farther, by contributing, each
according to his inclination and ability, to the experiments which it
would be necessary to make, and also by informing the public of all they
might discover, so that, by the last beginning where those before them had
left off, and thus connecting the lives and labours of many, we might
collectively proceed much farther than each by himself could do.
I remarked, moreover, with respect to experiments, that they become always
more necessary the more one is advanced in knowledge; for, at the
commencement, it is better to make use only of what is spontaneously
presented to our senses, and of which we cannot remain ignorant, provided
we bestow on it any reflection, however slight, than to concern ourselves
about more uncommon and recondite phenomena: the reason of which is, that
the more uncommon often only mislead us so long as the causes of the more
ordinary are still unknown; and the circumstances upon which they depend
are almost always so special and minute as to be highly difficult to
detect. But in this I have adopted the following order: first, I have
essayed to find in general the principles, or first causes of all that is
or can be in the world, without taking into consideration for this end
anything but God himself who has created it, and without educing them from
any other source than from certain germs of truths naturally existing in
our minds In the second place, I examined what were the first and most
ordinary effects that could be deduced from these causes; and it appears
to me that, in this way, I have found heavens, stars, an earth, and even
on the earth water, air, fire, minerals, and some other things of this
kind, which of all others are the most common and simple, and hence the
easiest to know. Afterwards when I wished to descend to the more
particular, so many diverse objects presented themselves to me, that I
believed it to be impossible for the human mind to distinguish the forms
or species of bodies that are upon the earth, from an infinity of others
which might have been, if it had pleased God to place them there, or
consequently to apply them to our use, unless we rise to causes through
their effects, and avail ourselves of many particular experiments.
Thereupon, turning over in my mind I the objects that had ever been
presented to my senses I freely venture to state that I have never
observed any which I could not satisfactorily explain by the principles
had discovered. But it is necessary also to confess that the power of
nature is so ample and vast, and these principles so simple and general,
that I have hardly observed a single particular effect which I cannot at
once recognize as capable of being deduced in man different modes from the
principles, and that my greatest difficulty usually is to discover in
which of these modes the effect is dependent upon them; for out of this
difficulty cannot otherwise extricate myself than by again seeking certain
experiments, which may be such that their result is not the same, if it is
in the one of these modes at we must explain it, as it would be if it were
to be explained in the other. As to what remains, I am now in a position
to discern, as I think, with sufficient clearness what course must be taken
to make the majority those experiments which may conduce to this end: but
I perceive likewise that they are such and so numerous, that neither my
hands nor my income, though it were a thousand times larger than it is,
would be sufficient for them all; so that according as henceforward I
shall have the means of making more or fewer experiments, I shall in the
same proportion make greater or less progress in the knowledge of nature.
This was what I had hoped to make known by the treatise I had written, and
so clearly to exhibit the advantage that would thence accrue to the public,
as to induce all who have the common good of man at heart, that is, all who
are virtuous in truth, and not merely in appearance, or according to opinion,
as well to communicate to me the experiments they had already made, as to
assist me in those that remain to be made.
But since that time other reasons have occurred to me, by which I have
been led to change my opinion, and to think that I ought indeed to go on
committing to writing all the results which I deemed of any moment, as
soon as I should have tested their truth, and to bestow the same care upon
them as I would have done had it been my design to publish them. This
course commended itself to me, as well because I thus afforded myself more
ample inducement to examine them thoroughly, for doubtless that is always
more narrowly scrutinized which we believe will be read by many, than that
which is written merely for our private use (and frequently what has
seemed to me true when I first conceived it, has appeared false when I
have set about committing it to writing), as because I thus lost no
opportunity of advancing the interests of the public, as far as in me lay,
and since thus likewise, if my writings possess any value, those into
whose hands they may fall after my death may be able to put them to what
use they deem proper. But I resolved by no means to consent to their
publication during my lifetime, lest either the oppositions or the
controversies to which they might give rise, or even the reputation, such
as it might be, which they would acquire for me, should be any occasion of
my losing the time that I had set apart for my own improvement. For though
it be true that every one is bound to promote to the extent of his ability
the good of others, and that to be useful to no one is really to be
worthless, yet it is likewise true that our cares ought to extend beyond
the present, and it is good to omit doing what might perhaps bring some
profit to the living, when we have in view the accomplishment of other
ends that will be of much greater advantage to posterity. And in truth, I
am quite willing it should be known that the little I have hitherto
learned is almost nothing in comparison with that of which I am ignorant,
and to the knowledge of which I do not despair of being able to attain;
for it is much the same with those who gradually discover truth in the
sciences, as with those who when growing rich find less difficulty in
making great acquisitions, than they formerly experienced when poor in
making acquisitions of much smaller amount. Or they may be compared to the
commanders of armies, whose forces usually increase in proportion to their
victories, and who need greater prudence to keep together the residue of
their troops after a defeat than after a victory to take towns and
provinces. For he truly engages in battle who endeavors to surmount all
the difficulties and errors which prevent him from reaching the knowledge
of truth, and he is overcome in fight who admits a false opinion touching
a matter of any generality and importance, and he requires thereafter much
more skill to recover his former position than to make great advances when
once in possession of thoroughly ascertained principles. As for myself, if
I have succeeded in discovering any truths in the sciences (and I trust
that what is contained in this volume 1 will show that I have found some),
I can declare that they are but the consequences and results of five or
six principal difficulties which I have surmounted, and my encounters with
which I reckoned as battles in which victory declared for me. I will not
hesitate even to avow my belief that nothing further is wanting to enable
me fully to realize my designs than to gain two or three similar
victories; and that I am not so far advanced in years but that, according
to the ordinary course of nature, I may still have sufficient leisure for
this end. But I conceive myself the more bound to husband the time that
remains the greater my expectation of being able to employ it aright, and
I should doubtless have much to rob me of it, were I to publish the
principles of my physics: for although they are almost all so evident that
to assent to them no more is needed than simply to understand them, and
although there is not one of them of which I do not expect to be able to
give demonstration, yet, as it is impossible that they can be in
accordance with all the diverse opinions of others, I foresee that I
should frequently be turned aside from my grand design, on occasion of the
opposition which they would be sure to awaken.
It may be said, that these oppositions would be useful both in making me
aware of my errors, and, if my speculations contain anything of value, in
bringing others to a fuller understanding of it; and still farther, as
many can see better than one, in leading others who are now beginning to
avail themselves of my principles, to assist me in turn with their
discoveries. But though I recognize my extreme liability to error, and
scarce ever trust to the first thoughts which occur to me, yet-the
experience I have had of possible objections to my views prevents me from
anticipating any profit from them. For I have already had frequent proof
of the judgments, as well of those I esteemed friends, as of some others
to whom I thought I was an object of indifference, and even of some whose
malignancy and envy would, I knew, determine them to endeavor to discover
what partiality concealed from the eyes of my friends. But it has rarely
happened that anything has been objected to me which I had myself
altogether overlooked, unless it were something far removed from the
subject: so that I have never met with a single critic of my opinions who
did not appear to me either less rigorous or less equitable than myself.
And further, I have never observed that any truth before unknown has been
brought to light by the disputations that are practised in the schools;
for while each strives for the victory, each is much more occupied in
making the best of mere verisimilitude, than in weighing the reasons on
both sides of the question; and those who have been long good advocates
are not afterwards on that account the better judges.
As for the advantage that others would derive from the communication of my
thoughts, it could not be very great; because I have not yet so far
prosecuted them as that much does not remain to be added before they can
be applied to practice. And I think I may say without vanity, that if
there is any one who can carry them out that length, it must be myself
rather than another: not that there may not be in the world many minds
incomparably superior to mine, but because one cannot so well seize a
thing and make it one's own, when it has been learned from another, as
when one has himself discovered it. And so true is this of the present
subject that, though I have often explained some of my opinions to persons
of much acuteness, who, whilst I was speaking, appeared to understand them
very distinctly, yet, when they repeated them, I have observed that they
almost always changed them to such an extent that I could no longer
acknowledge them as mine. I am glad, by the way, to take this opportunity
of requesting posterity never to believe on hearsay that anything has
proceeded from me which has not been published by myself; and I am not at
all astonished at the extravagances attributed to those ancient
philosophers whose own writings we do not possess; whose thoughts,
however, I do not on that account suppose to have been really absurd,
seeing they were among the ablest men of their times, but only that these
have been falsely represented to us. It is observable, accordingly, that
scarcely in a single instance has any one of their disciples surpassed
them; and I am quite sure that the most devoted of the present followers
of Aristotle would think themselves happy if they had as much knowledge of
nature as he possessed, were it even under the condition that they should
never afterwards attain to higher. In this respect they are like the ivy
which never strives to rise above the tree that sustains it, and which
frequently even returns downwards when it has reached the top; for it
seems to me that they also sink, in other words, render themselves less
wise than they would be if they gave up study, who, not contented with
knowing all that is intelligibly explained in their author, desire in
addition to find in him the solution of many difficulties of which he says
not a word, and never perhaps so much as thought. Their fashion of
philosophizing, however, is well suited to persons whose abilities fall
below mediocrity; for the obscurity of the distinctions and principles of
which they make use enables them to speak of all things with as much
confidence as if they really knew them, and to defend all that they say on
any subject against the most subtle and skillful, without its being
possible for any one to convict them of error. In this they seem to me to
be like a blind man, who, in order to fight on equal terms with a person
that sees, should have made him descend to the bottom of an intensely dark
cave: and I may say that such persons have an interest in my refraining
from publishing the principles of the philosophy of which I make use; for,
since these are of a kind the simplest and most evident, I should, by
publishing them, do much the same as if I were to throw open the windows,
and allow the light of day to enter the cave into which the combatants had
descended. But even superior men have no reason for any great anxiety to
know these principles, for if what they desire is to be able to speak of
all things, and to acquire a reputation for learning, they will gain their
end more easily by remaining satisfied with the appearance of truth, which
can be found without much difficulty in all sorts of matters, than by
seeking the truth itself which unfolds itself but slowly and that only in
some departments, while it obliges us, when we have to speak of others,
freely to confess our ignorance. If, however, they prefer the knowledge of
some few truths to the vanity of appearing ignorant of none, as such
knowledge is undoubtedly much to be preferred, and, if they choose to
follow a course similar to mine, they do not require for this that I
should say anything more than I have already said in this discourse. For
if they are capable of making greater advancement than I have made, they
will much more be able of themselves to discover all that I believe myself
to have found; since as I have never examined aught except in order, it is
certain that what yet remains to be discovered is in itself more difficult
and recondite, than that which I have already been enabled to find, and
the gratification would be much less in learning it from me than in
discovering it for themselves. Besides this, the habit which they will
acquire, by seeking first what is easy, and then passing onward slowly and
step by step to the more difficult, will benefit them more than all my
instructions. Thus, in my own case, I am persuaded that if I had been
taught from my youth all the truths of which I have since sought out
demonstrations, and had thus learned them without labour, I should never,
perhaps, have known any beyond these; at least, I should never have
acquired the habit and the facility which I think I possess in always
discovering new truths in proportion as I give myself to the search.
And, in a single word, if there is any work in the world which cannot
be so well finished by another as by him who has commenced it, it is
that at which I labour.
It is true, indeed, as regards the experiments which may conduce to this
end, that one man is not equal to the task of making them all; but yet he
can advantageously avail himself, in this work, of no hands besides his
own, unless those of artisans, or parties of the same kind, whom he could
pay, and whom the hope of gain (a means of great efficacy) might stimulate
to accuracy in the performance of what was prescribed to them. For as to
those who, through curiosity or a desire of learning, of their own accord,
perhaps, offer him their services, besides that in general their promises
exceed their performance, and that they sketch out fine designs of which
not one is ever realized, they will, without doubt, expect to be
compensated for their trouble by the explication of some difficulties, or,
at least, by compliments and useless speeches, in which he cannot spend
any portion of his time without loss to himself. And as for the
experiments that others have already made, even although these parties
should be willing of themselves to communicate them to him (which is what
those who esteem them secrets will never do), the experiments are, for the
most part, accompanied with so many circumstances and superfluous
elements, as to make it exceedingly difficult to disentangle the truth
from its adjuncts- besides, he will find almost all of them so ill
described, or even so false (because those who made them have wished to
see in them only such facts as they deemed conformable to their
principles), that, if in the entire number there should be some of a
nature suited to his purpose, still their value could not compensate for
the time what would be necessary to make the selection. So that if there
existed any one whom we assuredly knew to be capable of making discoveries
of the highest kind, and of the greatest possible utility to the public;
and if all other men were therefore eager by all means to assist him in
successfully prosecuting his designs, I do not see that they could do
aught else for him beyond contributing to defray the expenses of the
experiments that might be necessary; and for the rest, prevent his being
deprived of his leisure by the unseasonable interruptions of any one. But
besides that I neither have so high an opinion of myself as to be willing
to make promise of anything extraordinary, nor feed on imaginations so
vain as to fancy that the public must be much interested in my designs;
I do not, on the other hand, own a soul so mean as to be capable of
accepting from any one a favor of which it could be supposed that
I was unworthy.
These considerations taken together were the reason why, for the last
three years, I have been unwilling to publish the treatise I had on hand,
and why I even resolved to give publicity during my life to no other that
was so general, or by which the principles of my physics might be
understood. But since then, two other reasons have come into operation
that have determined me here to subjoin some particular specimens, and
give the public some account of my doings and designs. Of these
considerations, the first is, that if I failed to do so, many who were
cognizant of my previous intention to publish some writings, might have
imagined that the reasons which induced me to refrain from so doing, were
less to my credit than they really are; for although I am not immoderately
desirous of glory, or even, if I may venture so to say, although I am
averse from it in so far as I deem it hostile to repose which I hold in
greater account than aught else, yet, at the same time, I have never
sought to conceal my actions as if they were crimes, nor made use of many
precautions that I might remain unknown; and this partly because I should
have thought such a course of conduct a wrong against myself, and partly
because it would have occasioned me some sort of uneasiness which would
again have been contrary to the perfect mental tranquillity which I court.
And forasmuch as, while thus indifferent to the thought alike of fame or
of forgetfulness, I have yet been unable to prevent myself from acquiring
some sort of reputation, I have thought it incumbent on me to do my best
to save myself at least from being ill-spoken of. The other reason that
has determined me to commit to writing these specimens of philosophy is,
that I am becoming daily more and more alive to the delay which my design
of self-instruction suffers, for want of the infinity of experiments I
require, and which it is impossible for me to make without the assistance
of others: and, without flattering myself so much as to expect the public
to take a large share in my interests, I am yet unwilling to be found so
far wanting in the duty I owe to myself, as to give occasion to those who
shall survive me to make it matter of reproach against me some day, that I
might have left them many things in a much more perfect state than I have
done, had I not too much neglected to make them aware of the ways in which
they could have promoted the accomplishment of my designs.
And I thought that it was easy for me to select some matters which should
neither be obnoxious to much controversy, nor should compel me to expound
more of my principles than I desired, and which should yet be sufficient
clearly to exhibit what I can or cannot accomplish in the sciences.
Whether or not I have succeeded in this it is not for me to say; and I do
not wish to forestall the judgments of others by speaking myself of my
writings; but it will gratify me if they be examined, and, to afford the
greater inducement to this I request all who may have any objections to
make to them, to take the trouble of forwarding these to my publisher, who
will give me notice of them, that I may endeavor to subjoin at the same
time my reply; and in this way readers seeing both at once will more easily
determine where the truth lies; for I do not engage in any case to make
prolix replies, but only with perfect frankness to avow my errors if I am
convinced of them, or if I cannot perceive them, simply to state what I
think is required for defense of the matters I have written, adding
thereto no explication of any new matte that it may not be necessary to
pass without end from one thing to another.
If some of the matters of which I have spoken in the beginning of the
"Dioptrics" and "Meteorics" should offend at first sight, because I call
them hypotheses and seem indifferent about giving proof of them, I request
a patient and attentive reading of the whole, from which I hope those
hesitating will derive satisfaction; for it appears to me that the
reasonings are so mutually connected in these treatises, that, as the last
are demonstrated by the first which are their causes, the first are in
their turn demonstrated by the last which are their effects. Nor must it
be imagined that I here commit the fallacy which the logicians call a
circle; for since experience renders the majority of these effects most
certain, the causes from which I deduce them do not serve so much to
establish their reality as to explain their existence; but on the
contrary, the reality of the causes is established by the reality of the
effects. Nor have I called them hypotheses with any other end in view
except that it may be known that I think I am able to deduce them from
those first truths which I have already expounded; and yet that I have
expressly determined not to do so, to prevent a certain class of minds
from thence taking occasion to build some extravagant philosophy upon what
they may take to be my principles, and my being blamed for it. I refer to
those who imagine that they can master in a day all that another has taken
twenty years to think out, as soon as he has spoken two or three words to
them on the subject; or who are the more liable to error and the less
capable of perceiving truth in very proportion as they are more subtle and
lively. As to the opinions which are truly and wholly mine, I offer no
apology for them as new, -- persuaded as I am that if their reasons be
well considered they will be found to be so simple and so conformed, to
common sense as to appear less extraordinary and less paradoxical than any
others which can be held on the same subjects; nor do I even boast of being
the earliest discoverer of any of them, but only of having adopted them,
neither because they had nor because they had not been held by others,
but solely because reason has convinced me of their truth.
Though artisans may not be able at once to execute the invention which is
explained in the "Dioptrics," I do not think that any one on that account
is entitled to condemn it; for since address and practice are required in
order so to make and adjust the machines described by me as not to
overlook the smallest particular, I should not be less astonished if they
succeeded on the first attempt than if a person were in one day to become
an accomplished performer on the guitar, by merely having excellent sheets
of music set up before him. And if I write in French, which is the
language of my country, in preference to Latin, which is that of my
preceptors, it is because I expect that those who make use of their
unprejudiced natural reason will be better judges of my opinions than
those who give heed to the writings of the ancients only; and as for those
who unite good sense with habits of study, whom alone I desire for judges,
they will not, I feel assured, be so partial to Latin as to refuse to
listen to my reasonings merely because I expound them in the vulgar tongue.
In conclusion, I am unwilling here to say anything very specific of the
progress which I expect to make for the future in the sciences, or to bind
myself to the public by any promise which I am not certain of being able
to fulfill; but this only will I say, that I have resolved to devote what
time I may still have to live to no other occupation than that of
endeavoring to acquire some knowledge of Nature, which shall be of such a
kind as to enable us therefrom to deduce rules in medicine of greater
certainty than those at present in use; and that my inclination is so much
opposed to all other pursuits, especially to such as cannot be useful to
some without being hurtful to others, that if, by any circumstances, I had
been constrained to engage in such, I do not believe that I should have
been able to succeed. Of this I here make a public declaration, though well
aware that it cannot serve to procure for me any consideration in the
world, which, however, I do not in the least affect; and I shall always
hold myself more obliged to those through whose favor I am permitted to
enjoy my retirement without interruption than to any who might offer me
the highest earthly preferments.
[The end]
Rene Descartes's Discourse on Method
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