This is a modern-English version of Ethics, originally written by Spinoza, Benedictus de. It has been thoroughly updated, including changes to sentence structure, words, spelling, and grammar—to ensure clarity for contemporary readers, while preserving the original spirit and nuance. If you click on a paragraph, you will see the original text that we modified, and you can toggle between the two versions.

Scroll to the bottom of this page and you will find a free ePUB download link for this book.



The Ethics

(Ethica Ordine Geometrico Demonstrata)


by

Benedict de Spinoza




Translated from the Latin by R. H. M. Elwes




PART I PART II PART III PART IV PART V



PART I. CONCERNING GOD.

DEFINITIONS.

I. By that which is self—caused, I mean that of which the essence involves existence, or that of which the nature is only conceivable as existent.

I. By that which is self-caused, I mean something whose essence includes existence, or something whose nature can only be understood as existing.

II. A thing is called finite after its kind, when it can be limited by another thing of the same nature; for instance, a body is called finite because we always conceive another greater body. So, also, a thought is limited by another thought, but a body is not limited by thought, nor a thought by body.

II. A thing is considered finite when it can be limited by something of the same kind; for example, a body is called finite because we can always imagine a larger body. Similarly, a thought is limited by another thought, but a body is not limited by thought, nor is a thought limited by a body.

III. By substance, I mean that which is in itself, and is conceived through itself: in other words, that of which a conception can be formed independently of any other conception.

III. By substance, I mean something that exists on its own and is understood on its own; in other words, it's something that can be thought of without needing to rely on any other idea.

IV. By attribute, I mean that which the intellect perceives as constituting the essence of substance.

IV. By attribute, I mean what the mind recognizes as being the essence of substance.

V. By mode, I mean the modifications[1] of substance, or that which exists in, and is conceived through, something other than itself.

V. By mode, I mean the changes in substance, or that which exists within and is understood through something other than itself.

[1] "Affectiones"

"Feelings"

VI. By God, I mean a being absolutely infinite—that is, a substance consisting in infinite attributes, of which each expresses eternal and infinite essentiality.

VI. By God, I mean a being that is completely infinite—that is, a substance made up of infinite attributes, each of which expresses eternal and infinite essence.

Explanation—I say absolutely infinite, not infinite after its kind: for, of a thing infinite only after its kind, infinite attributes may be denied; but that which is absolutely infinite, contains in its essence whatever expresses reality, and involves no negation.

Explanation—I say absolutely infinite, not infinite in a limited way: because something that is infinite only in a limited sense may lack certain attributes; but what is absolutely infinite contains in its essence everything that represents reality and involves no denial.

VII. That thing is called free, which exists solely by the necessity of its own nature, and of which the action is determined by itself alone. On the other hand, that thing is necessary, or rather constrained, which is determined by something external to itself to a fixed and definite method of existence or action.

VII. Something is called free when it exists purely by the necessity of its own nature, and its actions are determined only by itself. In contrast, something is necessary, or rather constrained, when it is determined by something outside of itself to follow a specific and definite way of existing or acting.

VIII. By eternity, I mean existence itself, in so far as it is conceived necessarily to follow solely from the definition of that which is eternal.

VIII. By eternity, I mean existence itself, understood as something that necessarily follows from the definition of what is eternal.

Explanation—Existence of this kind is conceived as an eternal truth, like the essence of a thing, and, therefore, cannot be explained by means of continuance or time, though continuance may be conceived without a beginning or end.

Explanation—This type of existence is understood as an eternal truth, similar to the essence of a thing, and therefore cannot be explained through continuance or time, although continuance can be thought of without a beginning or end.


AXIOMS.

I. Everything which exists, exists either in itself or in something else.

I. Everything that exists either exists on its own or in something else.

II. That which cannot be conceived through anything else must be conceived through itself.

II. Anything that can't be understood through something else must be understood by itself.

III. From a given definite cause an effect necessarily follows; and, on the other hand, if no definite cause be granted, it is impossible that an effect can follow.

III. If there is a specific cause, then an effect will definitely follow; conversely, if there is no specific cause, it’s impossible for any effect to happen.

IV. The knowledge of an effect depends on and involves the knowledge of a cause.

IV. Understanding an effect relies on and includes understanding its cause.

V. Things which have nothing in common cannot be understood, the one by means of the other; the conception of one does not involve the conception of the other.

V. Things that have nothing in common can't be understood through each other; understanding one doesn't require understanding the other.

VI. A true idea must correspond with its ideate or object.

VI. A true idea has to match its concept or the thing it's about.

VII. If a thing can be conceived as non—existing, its essence does not involve existence.

VII. If something can be thought of as not existing, its essence does not require existence.


PROPOSITIONS.

PROP. I. Substance is by nature prior to its modifications.

PROP. I. Substance is naturally prior to its modifications.

Proof.—This is clear from Deff. iii. and v.

Proof.—This is clear from Deff. iii. and v.

PROP. II. Two substances, whose attributes are different, have nothing in common.

PROP. II. Two substances with different attributes have nothing in common.

Proof.—Also evident from Def. iii. For each must exist in itself, and be conceived through itself; in other words, the conception of one does not imply the conception of the other.

Proof.—Also evident from Def. iii. For each must exist on its own and be understood independently; in other words, understanding one doesn’t require understanding the other.

PROP. III. Things which have nothing in common cannot be one the cause of the other.

PROP. III. Things that have nothing in common cannot be the cause of one another.

Proof.—If they have nothing in common, it follows that one cannot be apprehended by means of the other (Ax. v.), and, therefore, one cannot be the cause of the other (Ax. iv.). Q.E.D.

Proof.—If they have nothing in common, it means that one cannot be understood through the other (Ax. v.), and, therefore, one cannot cause the other (Ax. iv.). Q.E.D.

PROP. IV. Two or more distinct things are distinguished one from the other, either by the difference of the attributes of the substances, or by the difference of their modifications.

PROP. IV. Two or more different things are recognized as separate from each other, either by the differences in the characteristics of the substances or by the differences in their variations.

Proof.—Everything which exists, exists either in itself or in something else (Ax. i.),—that is (by Deff. iii. and v.), nothing is granted in addition to the understanding, except substance and its modifications. Nothing is, therefore, given besides the understanding, by which several things may be distinguished one from the other, except the substances, or, in other words (see Ax. iv.), their attributes and modifications. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Everything that exists either exists by itself or in something else (Ax. i.),—which means (by Deff. iii. and v.), nothing is granted beyond the understanding, except for substance and its modifications. Therefore, nothing is given apart from the understanding that allows us to distinguish different things, except for substances, or in other words (see Ax. iv.), their attributes and modifications. Q.E.D.

PROP. V. There cannot exist in the universe two or more substances having the same nature or attribute.

PROP. V. There cannot be two or more substances in the universe that have the same nature or attribute.

Proof.—If several distinct substances be granted, they must be distinguished one from the other, either by the difference of their attributes, or by the difference of their modifications (Prop. iv.). If only by the difference of their attributes, it will be granted that there cannot be more than one with an identical attribute. If by the difference of their modifications—as substance is naturally prior to its modifications (Prop. i.),—it follows that setting the modifications aside, and considering substance in itself, that is truly, (Deff. iii. and vi.), there cannot be conceived one substance different from another,—that is (by Prop. iv.), there cannot be granted several substances, but one substance only. Q.E.D.

Proof.—If we accept that there are several distinct substances, they must be distinguished from each other either by their different attributes or by the different ways they can exist (Prop. iv.). If we distinguish them only by their attributes, then we must agree that there can’t be more than one substance with the same attribute. If we distinguish them by their modifications—as substance inherently comes before its modifications (Prop. i.)—it follows that if we set aside the modifications and consider the substance on its own, meaning truly (Deff. iii. and vi.), we cannot conceive of one substance being different from another—that is, (by Prop. iv.), we cannot accept multiple substances, but only one substance. Q.E.D.

PROP. VI. One substance cannot be produced by another substance.

PROP. VI. One substance cannot be created by another substance.

Proof.—It is impossible that there should be in the universe two substances with an identical attribute, i.e. which have anything common to them both (Prop. ii.), and, therefore (Prop. iii.), one cannot be the cause of the other, neither can one be produced by the other. Q.E.D.

Proof.—It’s impossible for there to be two substances in the universe that have the same attribute, meaning they can't share anything in common (Prop. ii.), and therefore (Prop. iii.), one cannot cause the other, nor can one be produced by the other. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Hence it follows that a substance cannot be produced by anything external to itself. For in the universe nothing is granted, save substances and their modifications (as appears from Ax. i. and Deff. iii. and v.). Now (by the last Prop.) substance cannot be produced by another substance, therefore it cannot be produced by anything external to itself. Q.E.D. This is shown still more readily by the absurdity of the contradictory. For, if substance be produced by an external cause, the knowledge of it would depend on the knowledge of its cause (Ax. iv.), and (by Def. iii.) it would itself not be substance.

Corollary.—Therefore, it follows that a substance cannot be created by anything outside of itself. In the universe, nothing exists except substances and their changes (as explained in Ax. i. and Deff. iii. and v.). Now (according to the last Proposition), a substance cannot be created by another substance, so it cannot be created by anything external to itself. Q.E.D. This is made even more clear by the absurdity of the opposite being true. If a substance were created by an external cause, its knowledge would depend on the knowledge of that cause (Ax. iv.), and (according to Def. iii.) it wouldn't actually be a substance.

PROP. VII. Existence belongs to the nature of substances.

PROP. VII. Existence is an essential characteristic of substances.

Proof.—Substance cannot be produced by anything external (Corollary, Prop vi.), it must, therefore, be its own cause—that is, its essence necessarily involves existence, or existence belongs to its nature.

Proof.—Substance cannot be created by anything outside of itself (Corollary, Prop vi.), so it must be its own cause—that is, its essence necessarily includes existence, or existence is part of its nature.

PROP. VIII. Every substance is necessarily infinite.

PROP. VIII. Every substance is necessarily infinite.

Proof.—There can only be one substance with an identical attribute, and existence follows from its nature (Prop. vii.); its nature, therefore, involves existence, either as finite or infinite. It does not exist as finite, for (by Def. ii.) it would then be limited by something else of the same kind, which would also necessarily exist (Prop. vii.); and there would be two substances with an identical attribute, which is absurd (Prop. v.). It therefore exists as infinite. Q.E.D.

Proof.—There can only be one substance with the same attribute, and existence follows from its nature (Prop. vii.); thus, its nature involves existence, either as finite or infinite. It doesn't exist as finite, because (by Def. ii.) it would then be limited by something else of the same kind, which would also have to exist (Prop. vii.); this would create two substances with the same attribute, which is absurd (Prop. v.). Therefore, it exists as infinite. Q.E.D.

Note I.—As finite existence involves a partial negation, and infinite existence is the absolute affirmation of the given nature, it follows (solely from Prop. vii.) that every substance is necessarily infinite.

Note I.—Since finite existence includes a partial denial, and infinite existence is the complete affirmation of the given nature, it follows (only from Prop. vii.) that every substance is necessarily infinite.

Note II.—No doubt it will be difficult for those who think about things loosely, and have not been accustomed to know them by their primary causes, to comprehend the demonstration of Prop. vii.: for such persons make no distinction between the modifications of substances and the substances themselves, and are ignorant of the manner in which things are produced; hence they may attribute to substances the beginning which they observe in natural objects. Those who are ignorant of true causes, make complete confusion—think that trees might talk just as well as men—that men might be formed from stones as well as from seed; and imagine that any form might be changed into any other. So, also, those who confuse the two natures, divine and human, readily attribute human passions to the deity, especially so long as they do not know how passions originate in the mind. But, if people would consider the nature of substance, they would have no doubt about the truth of Prop. vii. In fact, this proposition would be a universal axiom, and accounted a truism. For, by substance, would be understood that which is in itself, and is conceived through itself—that is, something of which the conception requires not the conception of anything else; whereas modifications exist in something external to themselves, and a conception of them is formed by means of a conception of the thing in which they exist. Therefore, we may have true ideas of non—existent modifications; for, although they may have no actual existence apart from the conceiving intellect, yet their essence is so involved in something external to themselves that they may through it be conceived. Whereas the only truth substances can have, external to the intellect, must consist in their existence, because they are conceived through themselves. Therefore, for a person to say that he has a clear and distinct—that is, a true—idea of a substance, but that he is not sure whether such substance exists, would be the same as if he said that he had a true idea, but was not sure whether or no it was false (a little consideration will make this plain); or if anyone affirmed that substance is created, it would be the same as saying that a false idea was true—in short, the height of absurdity. It must, then, necessarily be admitted that the existence of substance as its essence is an eternal truth. And we can hence conclude by another process of reasoning—that there is but one such substance. I think that this may profitably be done at once; and, in order to proceed regularly with the demonstration, we must premise:——

Note II.—It will likely be challenging for those who think about things loosely and are not used to understanding them by their fundamental causes to grasp the proof of Prop. vii.: such individuals do not distinguish between the modifications of substances and the substances themselves, and they do not understand how things are created; therefore, they may mistakenly attribute the beginnings they observe in natural objects to substances. Those unaware of true causes create total confusion—believing that trees could talk just as well as humans—that humans could be made from stones just as easily as from seeds; they imagine that any form could be transformed into any other. Likewise, those who confuse the divine and human natures easily ascribe human emotions to deities, especially while they remain unaware of how emotions arise in the mind. However, if people considered the nature of substance, they would have no doubt about the truth of Prop. vii. In fact, this proposition would be a universal axiom and regarded as a self-evident truth. For "substance" is understood as that which exists in itself and is conceived through itself—that is, something whose conception does not require the conception of anything else; while modifications exist in something external to themselves, and we develop a conception of them by conceiving the thing in which they exist. Therefore, we may have true ideas of non-existent modifications; even though they may not actually exist apart from the mind that conceives them, their essence is so tied to something outside of themselves that they can be conceived through it. On the other hand, the only truth substances can have, external to the intellect, must consist in their existence since they are conceived through themselves. Therefore, if someone claims to have a clear and distinct—that is, a true—idea of a substance but is unsure whether that substance exists, it would be the same as claiming to have a true idea while being uncertain whether it is false (a little thought will clarify this); or if anyone insisted that substance is created, it would be like saying a false idea is true—essentially, the peak of absurdity. We must therefore admit that the existence of substance as its essence is an eternal truth. From this, we can also conclude through another line of reasoning that there is only one such substance. I believe it would be beneficial to address this immediately; and to proceed systematically with the demonstration, we must first state:——

1. The true definition of a thing neither involves nor expresses anything beyond the nature of the thing defined. From this it follows that——

1. The true definition of something doesn’t include or convey anything beyond its nature. From this, it follows that——

2. No definition implies or expresses a certain number of individuals, inasmuch as it expresses nothing beyond the nature of the thing defined. For instance, the definition of a triangle expresses nothing beyond the actual nature of a triangle: it does not imply any fixed number of triangles.

2. No definition suggests or indicates a specific number of individuals, as it only conveys the essence of the thing being defined. For example, the definition of a triangle conveys nothing more than the true nature of a triangle: it doesn’t imply any set number of triangles.

3. There is necessarily for each individual existent thing a cause why it should exist.

3. Every existing thing necessarily has a reason for why it exists.

4. This cause of existence must either be contained in the nature and definition of the thing defined, or must be postulated apart from such definition.

4. This reason for existence must either be found within the nature and definition of the thing being defined, or it must be assumed separately from that definition.

It therefore follows that, if a given number of individual things exist in nature, there must be some cause for the existence of exactly that number, neither more nor less. For example, if twenty men exist in the universe (for simplicity's sake, I will suppose them existing simultaneously, and to have had no predecessors), and we want to account for the existence of these twenty men, it will not be enough to show the cause of human existence in general; we must also show why there are exactly twenty men, neither more nor less: for a cause must be assigned for the existence of each individual. Now this cause cannot be contained in the actual nature of man, for the true definition of man does not involve any consideration of the number twenty. Consequently, the cause for the existence of these twenty men, and, consequently, of each of them, must necessarily be sought externally to each individual. Hence we may lay down the absolute rule, that everything which may consist of several individuals must have an external cause. And, as it has been shown already that existence appertains to the nature of substance, existence must necessarily be included in its definition; and from its definition alone existence must be deducible. But from its definition (as we have shown, notes ii., iii.), we cannot infer the existence of several substances; therefore it follows that there is only one substance of the same nature. Q.E.D.

It follows that if a specific number of individual things exist in nature, there must be a reason for the existence of exactly that number, neither more nor less. For example, if there are twenty men in the universe (for simplicity, let's assume they exist simultaneously and have no predecessors), and we want to explain the existence of these twenty men, it won’t be enough to show the reason for human existence in general; we must also explain why there are exactly twenty men, not more or less: because a reason must be given for the existence of each individual. This reason cannot be found in the actual nature of man, as the true definition of man does not consider the number twenty. Therefore, the reason for the existence of these twenty men, and consequently for each of them, must be sought outside of each individual. Hence we can establish the absolute rule that everything consisting of several individuals must have an external cause. Additionally, since it has already been shown that existence is part of the nature of substance, existence must be included in its definition; and from its definition alone, existence must be deducible. However, from its definition (as we have shown, notes ii., iii.), we cannot infer the existence of several substances; therefore, it follows that there is only one substance of that nature. Q.E.D.

PROP. IX. The more reality or being a thing has, the greater the number of its attributes (Def. iv.).

PROP. IX. The more existence or essence a thing has, the greater the number of its qualities (Def. iv.).

PROP. X. Each particular attribute of the one substance must be conceived through itself.

PROP. X. Each specific attribute of the one substance must be understood on its own.

Proof.—An attribute is that which the intellect perceives of substance, as constituting its essence (Def. iv.), and, therefore, must be conceived through itself (Def. iii.). Q.E.D.

Proof.—An attribute is what the mind recognizes in a substance that defines its essence (Def. iv.), and, therefore, it must be understood on its own (Def. iii.). Q.E.D.

Note—It is thus evident that, though two attributes are, in fact, conceived as distinct—that is, one without the help of the other—yet we cannot, therefore, conclude that they constitute two entities, or two different substances. For it is the nature of substance that each of its attributes is conceived through itself, inasmuch as all the attributes it has have always existed simultaneously in it, and none could be produced by any other; but each expresses the reality or being of substance. It is, then, far from an absurdity to ascribe several attributes to one substance: for nothing in nature is more clear than that each and every entity must be conceived under some attribute, and that its reality or being is in proportion to the number of its attributes expressing necessity or eternity and infinity. Consequently it is abundantly clear, that an absolutely infinite being must necessarily be defined as consisting in infinite attributes, each of which expresses a certain eternal and infinite essence.

Note—It is clear that, although we think of two attributes as separate—that is, one without the other—we cannot conclude that they make up two separate entities or substances. The nature of substance is such that each of its attributes is understood on its own, as all its attributes have always existed together in it, and none could come from anything else; rather, each reflects the reality or essence of the substance. Therefore, it's not unreasonable to assign multiple attributes to one substance: nothing is clearer in nature than that every entity must be understood through some attribute, and its reality or existence is proportional to the number of its attributes that express necessity, eternity, and infinity. Consequently, it is very clear that an absolutely infinite being must be understood as consisting of infinite attributes, each of which reflects a certain eternal and infinite essence.

If anyone now ask, by what sign shall he be able to distinguish different substances, let him read the following propositions, which show that there is but one substance in the universe, and that it is absolutely infinite, wherefore such a sign would be sought in vain.

If anyone asks how to tell different substances apart, let them read the following statements, which demonstrate that there is only one substance in the universe, and that it is completely infinite, so any such sign would be impossible to find.

PROP. XI. God, or substance, consisting of infinite attributes, of which each expresses eternal and infinite essentiality, necessarily exists.

PROP. XI. God, or substance, made up of infinite attributes, each representing eternal and infinite essence, must exist.

Proof.—If this be denied, conceive, if possible, that God does not exist: then his essence does not involve existence. But this (Prop. vii.) is absurd. Therefore God necessarily exists.

Proof.—If you deny this, imagine, if you can, that God does not exist: then his essence does not require existence. But this (Prop. vii.) is ridiculous. Therefore, God necessarily exists.

Another proof.—Of everything whatsoever a cause or reason must be assigned, either for its existence, or for its non—existence—e.g. if a triangle exist, a reason or cause must be granted for its existence; if, on the contrary, it does not exist, a cause must also be granted, which prevents it from existing, or annuls its existence. This reason or cause must either be contained in the nature of the thing in question, or be external to it. For instance, the reason for the non—existence of a square circle is indicated in its nature, namely, because it would involve a contradiction. On the other hand, the existence of substance follows also solely from its nature, inasmuch as its nature involves existence. (See Prop. vii.)

Another proof.—Everything must have a cause or reason assigned for either its existence or its non-existence. For example, if a triangle exists, there must be a reason or cause for its existence; if it doesn’t exist, there must also be a reason that prevents it from existing or negates its existence. This reason or cause must either be found in the nature of the thing in question or be external to it. For instance, the reason for the non-existence of a square circle is found in its nature, because it leads to a contradiction. On the other hand, the existence of substance comes solely from its nature since its nature implies existence. (See Prop. vii.)

But the reason for the existence of a triangle or a circle does not follow from the nature of those figures, but from the order of universal nature in extension. From the latter it must follow, either that a triangle necessarily exists, or that it is impossible that it should exist. So much is self—evident. It follows therefrom that a thing necessarily exists, if no cause or reason be granted which prevents its existence.

But the reason for the existence of a triangle or a circle doesn't come from the nature of those shapes, but from the order of universal nature in space. From that, it must be concluded that either a triangle necessarily exists, or it’s impossible for it to exist. This is obvious. Therefore, it follows that something necessarily exists if there’s no reason or cause given that would prevent its existence.

If, then, no cause or reason can be given, which prevents the existence of God, or which destroys his existence, we must certainly conclude that he necessarily does exist. If such a reason or cause should be given, it must either be drawn from the very nature of God, or be external to him—that is, drawn from another substance of another nature. For if it were of the same nature, God, by that very fact, would be admitted to exist. But substance of another nature could have nothing in common with God (by Prop. ii.), and therefore would be unable either to cause or to destroy his existence.

If there’s no reason or explanation that can be provided to prevent God's existence or to deny it, we can definitely conclude that he exists necessarily. If such a reason or explanation were to be given, it would have to come from God's very nature or from something outside of him—that is, from another substance of a different nature. If it were from the same nature, God would be acknowledged to exist just by that fact. However, a substance of a different nature couldn’t have anything in common with God (as shown in Prop. ii.), and therefore couldn’t either cause or destroy his existence.

As, then, a reason or cause which would annul the divine existence cannot be drawn from anything external to the divine nature, such cause must perforce, if God does not exist, be drawn from God's own nature, which would involve a contradiction. To make such an affirmation about a being absolutely infinite and supremely perfect is absurd; therefore, neither in the nature of God, nor externally to his nature, can a cause or reason be assigned which would annul his existence. Therefore, God necessarily exists. Q.E.D.

As a reason or cause that could invalidate God's existence can't come from anything outside of God's nature, such a cause, if God doesn't exist, must come from God's own nature, which would create a contradiction. Claiming such a thing about a being that is completely infinite and perfectly supreme is ridiculous; therefore, neither within God's nature nor outside of it can there be a cause or reason that would negate His existence. Hence, God necessarily exists. Q.E.D.

Another proof.—The potentiality of non—existence is a negation of power, and contrariwise the potentiality of existence is a power, as is obvious. If, then, that which necessarily exists is nothing but finite beings, such finite beings are more powerful than a being absolutely infinite, which is obviously absurd; therefore, either nothing exists, or else a being absolutely infinite necessarily exists also. Now we exist either in ourselves, or in something else which necessarily exists (see Axiom. i. and Prop. vii.). Therefore a being absolutely infinite—in other words, God (Def. vi.)—necessarily exists. Q.E.D.

Another proof.—The possibility of non-existence means a lack of power, while the possibility of existence represents power, as is clear. If what necessarily exists is only finite beings, then these finite beings would be more powerful than a being that is absolutely infinite, which is obviously nonsensical; therefore, either nothing exists, or a being that is absolutely infinite necessarily exists as well. We either exist in ourselves or in something else that necessarily exists (see Axiom. i. and Prop. vii.). Therefore, a being that is absolutely infinite—in other words, God (Def. vi.)—necessarily exists. Q.E.D.

Note.—In this last proof, I have purposely shown God's existence à posteriori, so that the proof might be more easily followed, not because, from the same premises, God's existence does not follow à priori. For, as the potentiality of existence is a power, it follows that, in proportion as reality increases in the nature of a thing, so also will it increase its strength for existence. Therefore a being absolutely infinite, such as God, has from himself an absolutely infinite power of existence, and hence he does absolutely exist. Perhaps there will be many who will be unable to see the force of this proof, inasmuch as they are accustomed only to consider those things which flow from external causes. Of such things, they see that those which quickly come to pass—that is, quickly come into existence—quickly also disappear; whereas they regard as more difficult of accomplishment—that is, not so easily brought into existence—those things which they conceive as more complicated.

Note.—In this final proof, I've intentionally demonstrated God's existence through observation, so that the argument is easier to understand, not because God's existence can't also be proven through reasoning. Since the potential for existence is a power, it follows that as the reality of a thing increases, so does its capacity for existence. Therefore, a being that is absolutely infinite, like God, has an infinitely powerful existence within itself, and thus, He absolutely exists. There may be many who struggle to grasp this proof because they only consider things that arise from external causes. They observe that things that come into existence quickly also tend to disappear just as fast; while they view things that are harder to bring into existence—those they see as more complex—as more challenging to accomplish.

However, to do away with this misconception, I need not here show the measure of truth in the proverb, "What comes quickly, goes quickly," nor discuss whether, from the point of view of universal nature, all things are equally easy, or otherwise: I need only remark that I am not here speaking of things, which come to pass through causes external to themselves, but only of substances which (by Prop. vi.) cannot be produced by any external cause. Things which are produced by external causes, whether they consist of many parts or few, owe whatsoever perfection or reality they possess solely to the efficacy of their external cause; and therefore their existence arises solely from the perfection of their external cause, not from their own. Contrariwise, whatsoever perfection is possessed by substance is due to no external cause; wherefore the existence of substance must arise solely from its own nature, which is nothing else but its essence. Thus, the perfection of a thing does not annul its existence, but, on the contrary, asserts it. Imperfection, on the other hand, does annul it; therefore we cannot be more certain of the existence of anything, than of the existence of a being absolutely infinite or perfect—that is, of God. For inasmuch as his essence excludes all imperfection, and involves absolute perfection, all cause for doubt concerning his existence is done away, and the utmost certainty on the question is given. This, I think, will be evident to every moderately attentive reader.

However, to clear up this misunderstanding, I don’t need to prove the truth of the saying, "What comes quickly, goes quickly," nor to discuss whether, from a broader perspective, all things are equally easy or not. I just want to point out that I’m not talking about things that happen due to external causes, but only about substances that (as shown in Prop. vi.) cannot be produced by any outside cause. Things produced by external causes, regardless of whether they have many parts or few, owe whatever perfection or reality they have entirely to the effectiveness of their external cause. Therefore, their existence comes solely from the quality of their external cause, not from themselves. In contrast, any perfection that a substance has is not due to any external cause; therefore, the existence of a substance must stem only from its own nature, which is nothing other than its essence. Thus, the perfection of a thing does not negate its existence; rather, it reinforces it. Imperfection, on the other hand, does negate existence; hence we cannot be more certain of the existence of anything than of a being that is absolutely infinite or perfect—that is, of God. Since his essence rules out all imperfection and embodies absolute perfection, all doubt about his existence is resolved, providing the highest certainty on the matter. I believe this will be clear to any reasonably attentive reader.

PROP. XII. No attribute of substance can be conceived from which it would follow that substance can be divided.

PROP. XII. No quality of substance can be imagined that indicates that substance can be split.

Proof.—The parts into which substance as thus conceived would be divided either will retain the nature of substance, or they will not. If the former, then (by Prop. viii.) each part will necessarily be infinite, and (by Prop. vi.) self—caused, and (by Prop. v.) will perforce consist of a different attribute, so that, in that case, several substances could be formed out of one substance, which (by Prop. vi.) is absurd. Moreover, the parts (by Prop. ii.) would have nothing in common with their whole, and the whole (by Def. iv. and Prop. x.) could both exist and be conceived without its parts, which everyone will admit to be absurd. If we adopt the second alternative—namely, that the parts will not retain the nature of substance—then, if the whole substance were divided into equal parts, it would lose the nature of substance, and would cease to exist, which (by Prop. vii.) is absurd.

Proof.—The parts into which substance, as we understand it, would be divided either will keep the nature of substance, or they won't. If they do keep that nature, then (by Prop. viii.) each part will necessarily be infinite, and (by Prop. vi.) self-caused, and (by Prop. v.) will necessarily consist of a different attribute, so in that scenario, several substances could be created from one substance, which (by Prop. vi.) is absurd. Furthermore, the parts (by Prop. ii.) would have nothing in common with their whole, and the whole (by Def. iv. and Prop. x.) could both exist and be conceived without its parts, which everyone will agree is absurd. If we go with the second possibility—that the parts won’t keep the nature of substance—then, if the whole substance were divided into equal parts, it would lose its nature as substance and would stop existing, which (by Prop. vii.) is also absurd.

PROP. XIII. Substance absolutely infinite is indivisible.

PROP. XIII. Substance that is absolutely infinite is indivisible.

Proof.—If it could be divided, the parts into which it was divided would either retain the nature of absolutely infinite substance, or they would not. If the former, we should have several substances of the same nature, which (by Prop. v.) is absurd. If the latter, then (by Prop. vii.) substance absolutely infinite could cease to exist, which (by Prop. xi.) is also absurd.

Proof.—If it could be divided, the parts it was divided into would either keep the nature of absolutely infinite substance or they wouldn’t. If they do, we would have several substances of the same kind, which (by Prop. v.) doesn’t make sense. If they don’t, then (by Prop. vii.) absolutely infinite substance could stop existing, which (by Prop. xi.) is also nonsensical.

Corollary.—It follows, that no substance, and consequently no extended substance, in so far as it is substance, is divisible.

Corollary.—It follows that no substance, and therefore no extended substance, is divisible as long as it is considered as substance.

Note.—The indivisibility of substance may be more easily understood as follows. The nature of substance can only be conceived as infinite, and by a part of substance, nothing else can be understood than finite substance, which (by Prop. viii) involves a manifest contradiction.

Note.—The indivisibility of substance can be understood more easily like this. The nature of substance can only be seen as infinite, and when we refer to a part of substance, we can only understand it as finite substance, which (by Prop. viii) leads to a clear contradiction.

PROP. XIV. Besides God no substance can be granted or conceived.

PROP. XIV. Besides God, no substance can be acknowledged or imagined.

Proof.—As God is a being absolutely infinite, of whom no attribute that expresses the essence of substance can be denied (by Def. vi.), and he necessarily exists (by Prop. xi.); if any substance besides God were granted, it would have to be explained by some attribute of God, and thus two substances with the same attribute would exist, which (by Prop. v.) is absurd; therefore, besides God no substance can be granted, or, consequently, be conceived. If it could be conceived, it would necessarily have to be conceived as existent; but this (by the first part of this proof) is absurd. Therefore, besides God no substance can be granted or conceived. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Since God is a being that is absolutely infinite, with no attribute that defines the essence of substance being deniable (by Def. vi.), and he necessarily exists (by Prop. xi.); if we were to allow for any substance other than God, it would have to be explained by some attribute of God, leading to the existence of two substances sharing the same attribute, which (by Prop. v.) is absurd. Therefore, we cannot recognize or conceive of any substance besides God. If it could be conceived, it would necessarily have to be thought of as existing; but this (by the first part of this proof) is absurd. Thus, no substance besides God can be acknowledged or imagined. Q.E.D.

Corollary I.—Clearly, therefore: 1. God is one, that is (by Def. vi.) only one substance can be granted in the universe, and that substance is absolutely infinite, as we have already indicated (in the note to Prop. x.).

Corollary I.—Clearly, therefore: 1. God is one; that is, as defined in Def. vi., there can only be one substance in the universe, and that substance is absolutely infinite, as we've already pointed out in the note to Prop. x.

Corollary II.—It follows: 2. That extension and thought are either attributes of God or (by Ax. i.) accidents (affectiones) of the attributes of God.

Corollary II.—It follows: 2. That extension and thought are either characteristics of God or (by Ax. i.) qualities of the characteristics of God.

PROP. XV. Whatsoever is, is in God, and without God nothing can be, or be conceived.

PROP. XV. Everything that exists is in God, and without God, nothing can exist or be imagined.

Proof.—Besides God, no substance is granted or can be conceived (by Prop. xiv.), that is (by Def. iii.) nothing which is in itself and is conceived through itself. But modes (by Def. v.) can neither be, nor be conceived without substance; wherefore they can only be in the divine nature, and can only through it be conceived. But substances and modes form the sum total of existence (by Ax. i.), therefore, without God nothing can be, or be conceived. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Besides God, no substance exists or can be imagined (by Prop. xiv.), which is (by Def. iii.) anything that is in itself and is understood through itself. However, modes (by Def. v.) cannot exist or be conceived without substance; therefore, they can only exist within the divine nature and can only be understood through it. Since substances and modes make up the totality of existence (by Ax. i.), nothing can exist or be conceived without God. Q.E.D.

Note.—Some assert that God, like a man, consists of body and mind, and is susceptible of passions. How far such persons have strayed from the truth is sufficiently evident from what has been said. But these I pass over. For all who have in anywise reflected on the divine nature deny that God has a body. Of this they find excellent proof in the fact that we understand by body a definite quantity, so long, so broad, so deep, bounded by a certain shape, and it is the height of absurdity to predicate such a thing of God, a being absolutely infinite. But meanwhile by other reasons with which they try to prove their point, they show that they think corporeal or extended substance wholly apart from the divine nature, and say it was created by God. Wherefrom the divine nature can have been created, they are wholly ignorant; thus they clearly show, that they do not know the meaning of their own words. I myself have proved sufficiently clearly, at any rate in my own judgment (Coroll. Prop. vi, and note 2, Prop. viii.), that no substance can be produced or created by anything other than itself. Further, I showed (in Prop. xiv.), that besides God no substance can be granted or conceived. Hence we drew the conclusion that extended substance is one of the infinite attributes of God. However, in order to explain more fully, I will refute the arguments of my adversaries, which all start from the following points:——

Note.—Some people claim that God, like a human, has a body and mind and can feel emotions. How far these individuals have strayed from the truth is clear from what has been discussed. But I'll move on from this. All who have given any thought to the divine nature agree that God does not have a body. They find strong evidence in the understanding that we define a body as having a specific length, width, and depth, limited by a certain shape, and it's utterly absurd to attribute such a thing to God, who is completely infinite. Meanwhile, through other arguments they use to support their claims, they indicate that they believe physical or extended substance exists entirely separate from the divine nature and claim it was created by God. They are completely ignorant of where the divine nature could have originated; thus, they clearly reveal that they do not understand the meaning of their own words. I have sufficiently demonstrated, at least in my opinion (Coroll. Prop. vi, and note 2, Prop. viii.), that no substance can be produced or created by anything other than itself. Furthermore, I showed (in Prop. xiv.) that aside from God, no substance can be acknowledged or conceived. Thus, we concluded that extended substance is one of the infinite attributes of God. However, to explain more thoroughly, I will counter the arguments of my opponents, all of which are based on the following points:——

Extended substance, in so far as it is substance, consists, as they think, in parts, wherefore they deny that it can be infinite, or consequently, that it can appertain to God. This they illustrate with many examples, of which I will take one or two. If extended substance, they say, is infinite, let it be conceived to be divided into two parts; each part will then be either finite or infinite. If the former, then infinite substance is composed of two finite parts, which is absurd. If the latter, then one infinite will be twice as large as another infinite, which is also absurd.

Extended substance, as they view it, consists of parts, which is why they argue that it can't be infinite, and consequently, it can't belong to God. They illustrate this with several examples, and I'll mention one or two. They say if extended substance is infinite, let’s imagine it divided into two parts; each part will then be either finite or infinite. If it’s finite, then infinite substance is made up of two finite parts, which is nonsensical. If it’s infinite, then one infinite part would be twice as large as another infinite part, which is also nonsensical.

Further, if an infinite line be measured out in foot lengths, it will consist of an infinite number of such parts; it would equally consist of an infinite number of parts, if each part measured only an inch: therefore, one infinity would be twelve times as great as the other.

Further, if you measure out an infinite line in feet, it will have an infinite number of segments; it will also have an infinite number of segments if each segment measures only an inch: therefore, one infinity would be twelve times larger than the other.

Lastly, if from a single point there be conceived to be drawn two diverging lines which at first are at a definite distance apart, but are produced to infinity, it is certain that the distance between the two lines will be continually increased, until at length it changes from definite to indefinable. As these absurdities follow, it is said, from considering quantity as infinite, the conclusion is drawn, that extended substance must necessarily be finite, and, consequently, cannot appertain to the nature of God.

Lastly, if you imagine two diverging lines drawn from a single point that start out at a specific distance apart but continue on to infinity, it's clear that the space between the two lines will keep getting larger until it eventually becomes immeasurable. As these ridiculous outcomes arise from thinking of quantity as infinite, the conclusion is reached that extended substance must be finite and, therefore, cannot be part of God's nature.

The second argument is also drawn from God's supreme perfection. God, it is said, inasmuch as he is a supremely perfect being, cannot be passive; but extended substance, insofar as it is divisible, is passive. It follows, therefore, that extended substance does not appertain to the essence of God.

The second argument is also based on God's ultimate perfection. God, being a completely perfect being, cannot be passive; however, extended substance, as it is divisible, is passive. Therefore, it follows that extended substance is not part of God's essence.

Such are the arguments I find on the subject in writers, who by them try to prove that extended substance is unworthy of the divine nature, and cannot possibly appertain thereto. However, I think an attentive reader will see that I have already answered their propositions; for all their arguments are founded on the hypothesis that extended substance is composed of parts, and such a hypothesis I have shown (Prop. xii., and Coroll. Prop. xiii.) to be absurd. Moreover, anyone who reflects will see that all these absurdities (if absurdities they be, which I am not now discussing), from which it is sought to extract the conclusion that extended substance is finite, do not at all follow from the notion of an infinite quantity, but merely from the notion that an infinite quantity is measurable, and composed of finite parts therefore, the only fair conclusion to be drawn is that: infinite quantity is not measurable, and cannot be composed of finite parts. This is exactly what we have already proved (in Prop. xii.). Wherefore the weapon which they aimed at us has in reality recoiled upon themselves. If, from this absurdity of theirs, they persist in drawing the conclusion that extended substance must be finite, they will in good sooth be acting like a man who asserts that circles have the properties of squares, and, finding himself thereby landed in absurdities, proceeds to deny that circles have any center, from which all lines drawn to the circumference are equal. For, taking extended substance, which can only be conceived as infinite, one, and indivisible (Props. viii., v., xii.) they assert, in order to prove that it is finite, that it is composed of finite parts, and that it can be multiplied and divided.

Here are the arguments I found on the topic in various writers who attempt to prove that extended substance is unworthy of the divine nature and cannot possibly relate to it. However, I believe that a careful reader will see that I have already addressed their claims; all their arguments are based on the assumption that extended substance is made up of parts, and I have demonstrated (Prop. xii., and Coroll. Prop. xiii.) that such an assumption is absurd. Moreover, anyone who reflects will understand that all these absurdities (if they are indeed absurdities, which I'm not debating right now), from which they seek to conclude that extended substance is finite, do not actually follow from the concept of an infinite quantity, but rather from the idea that an infinite quantity is measurable and made up of finite parts. Therefore, the only reasonable conclusion is that infinite quantity is not measurable and cannot be made up of finite parts. This is exactly what we have already shown (in Prop. xii.). Consequently, the weapon they aimed at us has actually backfired on them. If, from this absurdity of theirs, they continue to insist that extended substance must be finite, they will truly be acting like someone who claims that circles have the properties of squares and, finding themselves in absurd conclusions, denies that circles have any center, from which all lines drawn to the circumference are equal. For, when it comes to extended substance, which can only be understood as infinite, singular, and indivisible (Props. viii., v., xii.), they argue, in order to prove it is finite, that it is made up of finite parts and that it can be multiplied and divided.

So, also, others, after asserting that a line is composed of points, can produce many arguments to prove that a line cannot be infinitely divided. Assuredly it is not less absurd to assert that extended substance is made up of bodies or parts, than it would be to assert that a solid is made up of surfaces, a surface of lines, and a line of points. This must be admitted by all who know clear reason to be infallible, and most of all by those who deny the possibility of a vacuum. For if extended substance could be so divided that its parts were really separate, why should not one part admit of being destroyed, the others remaining joined together as before? And why should all be so fitted into one another as to leave no vacuum? Surely in the case of things, which are really distinct one from the other, one can exist without the other, and can remain in its original condition. As, then, there does not exist a vacuum in nature (of which anon), but all parts are bound to come together to prevent it, it follows from this that the parts cannot really be distinguished, and that extended substance in so far as it is substance cannot be divided.

So, others have claimed that a line is made up of points and have given many reasons to argue that a line cannot be endlessly divided. It’s just as ridiculous to say that extended substance is made up of bodies or parts as it would be to say that a solid is made of surfaces, a surface of lines, and a line of points. Anyone who recognizes that clear reasoning is infallible, especially those who deny the existence of a vacuum, must accept this. If extended substance could be divided in such a way that its parts were truly separate, why couldn't one part be destroyed while the others stayed joined together like before? And why would all the parts fit together so perfectly that no vacuum is left? Clearly, in cases where things are truly distinct from one another, one can exist without the other and remain unchanged. Since there is no vacuum in nature (which I’ll explain later) and all parts must come together to avoid it, it follows that the parts cannot actually be distinguished, and that extended substance, as substance, cannot be divided.

If anyone asks me the further question, Why are we naturally so prone to divide quantity? I answer, that quantity is conceived by us in two ways; in the abstract and superficially, as we imagine it; or as substance, as we conceive it solely by the intellect. If, then, we regard quantity as it is represented in our imagination, which we often and more easily do, we shall find that it is finite, divisible, and compounded of parts; but if we regard it as it is represented in our intellect, and conceive it as substance, which it is very difficult to do, we shall then, as I have sufficiently proved, find that it is infinite, one, and indivisible. This will be plain enough to all who make a distinction between the intellect and the imagination, especially if it be remembered, that matter is everywhere the same, that its parts are not distinguishable, except in so far as we conceive matter as diversely modified, whence its parts are distinguished, not really, but modally. For instance, water, in so far as it is water, we conceive to be divided, and its parts to be separated one from the other; but not in so far as it is extended substance; from this point of view it is neither separated nor divisible. Further, water, in so far as it is water, is produced and corrupted; but, in so far as it is substance, it is neither produced nor corrupted.

If anyone asks me why we naturally tend to divide quantity, I respond that we understand quantity in two ways: abstractly and superficially, as we imagine it, or as substance, as we comprehend it purely through our intellect. If we look at quantity as it's represented in our imagination, which we often do more easily, we'll see that it is finite, divisible, and made up of parts. However, if we consider it as portrayed in our intellect and think of it as substance—which is quite difficult—we will find, as I've clearly demonstrated, that it is infinite, one, and indivisible. This will be clear to anyone who distinguishes between the intellect and the imagination, especially when remembering that matter is the same everywhere, and its parts can't be distinguished except in terms of how we perceive matter as altered in different ways, leading us to distinguish its parts not in reality, but in principle. For example, water, when we think of it as water, we see it as divided, and its parts as separate from one another; but not when we think of it as extended substance; from that perspective, it is neither separated nor divisible. Furthermore, water, as it is water, can be created and destroyed; but in terms of being substance, it is neither created nor destroyed.

I think I have now answered the second argument; it is, in fact, founded on the same assumption as the first—namely, that matter, in so far as it is substance, is divisible, and composed of parts. Even if it were so, I do not know why it should be considered unworthy of the divine nature, inasmuch as besides God (by Prop. xiv.) no substance can be granted, wherefrom it could receive its modifications. All things, I repeat, are in God, and all things which come to pass, come to pass solely through the laws of the infinite nature of God, and follow (as I will shortly show) from the necessity of his essence. Wherefore it can in nowise be said, that God is passive in respect to anything other than himself, or that extended substance is unworthy of the Divine nature, even if it be supposed divisible, so long as it is granted to be infinite and eternal. But enough of this for the present.

I believe I've now addressed the second argument; it's actually based on the same assumption as the first—namely, that matter, as substance, is divisible and made up of parts. Even if this were true, I don't see why it should be considered unworthy of the divine nature, since, aside from God (as stated in Prop. xiv.), no other substance can be acknowledged as the source of its modifications. I emphasize again, everything exists in God, and everything that happens occurs solely through the laws of God's infinite nature, and follows (as I'll explain shortly) from the necessity of His essence. Therefore, it can't be said that God is passive in relation to anything outside of Himself, or that extended substance is unworthy of the Divine nature, even if we assume it's divisible, as long as it's acknowledged to be infinite and eternal. But that's enough for now.

PROP. XVI. From the necessity of the divine nature must follow an infinite number of things in infinite ways—that is, all things which can fall within the sphere of infinite intellect.

PROP. XVI. From the necessity of the divine nature comes an infinite number of things in infinite ways—that is, everything that can be understood within the realm of infinite intellect.

Proof.—This proposition will be clear to everyone, who remembers that from the given definition of any thing the intellect infers several properties, which really necessarily follow therefrom (that is, from the actual essence of the thing defined); and it infers more properties in proportion as the definition of the thing expresses more reality, that is, in proportion as the essence of the thing defined involves more reality. Now, as the divine nature has absolutely infinite attributes (by Def. vi.), of which each expresses infinite essence after its kind, it follows that from the necessity of its nature an infinite number of things (that is, everything which can fall within the sphere of an infinite intellect) must necessarily follow. Q.E.D.

Proof.—This proposition will be clear to everyone who remembers that from the given definition of anything, the mind infers several properties that necessarily follow from the actual essence of the defined thing. It infers more properties as the definition expresses more reality, meaning that the essence of the defined thing involves more reality. Now, since the divine nature has absolutely infinite attributes (by Def. vi.), each reflecting infinite essence in its own way, it follows that an infinite number of things (that is, everything that can be considered by an infinite intellect) must necessarily follow from the necessity of its nature. Q.E.D.

Corollary I.—Hence it follows, that God is the efficient cause of all that can fall within the sphere of an infinite intellect.

Corollary I.—Thus, it follows that God is the active cause of everything that can be understood by an infinite intellect.

Corollary II.—It also follows that God is a cause in himself, and not through an accident of his nature.

Corollary II.—It also follows that God is a cause within himself, not because of an accident of his nature.

Corollary III.—It follows, thirdly, that God is the absolutely first cause.

Corollary III.—It follows, thirdly, that God is the ultimate first cause.

PROP. XVII. God acts solely by the laws of his own nature, and is not constrained by anyone.

PROP. XVII. God acts only according to the laws of His own nature and is not restricted by anyone.

Proof.—We have just shown (in Prop. xvi.), that solely from the necessity of the divine nature, or, what is the same thing, solely from the laws of his nature, an infinite number of things absolutely follow in an infinite number of ways; and we proved (in Prop. xv.), that without God nothing can be nor be conceived but that all things are in God. Wherefore nothing can exist; outside himself, whereby he can be conditioned or constrained to act. Wherefore God acts solely by the laws of his own nature, and is not constrained by anyone. Q.E.D.

Proof.—We have just shown (in Prop. xvi.) that solely from the necessity of the divine nature, or, put another way, solely from the laws of his nature, an infinite number of things follow in an infinite number of ways; and we proved (in Prop. xv.) that without God, nothing can exist or be conceived, except that all things are in God. Therefore, nothing can exist outside of himself that could determine or force him to act. Thus, God acts solely according to the laws of his own nature and is not compelled by anyone. Q.E.D.

Corollary I.—It follows: 1. That there can be no cause which, either extrinsically or intrinsically, besides the perfection of his own nature, moves God to act.

Corollary I.—It follows: 1. That there can be no cause that, either externally or internally, apart from the perfection of His own nature, prompts God to act.

Corollary II.—It follows: 2. That God is the sole free cause. For God alone exists by the sole necessity of his nature (by Prop. xi. and Prop. xiv., Coroll. i.), and acts by the sole necessity of his own nature, wherefore God is (by Def. vii.) the sole free cause. Q.E.D.

Corollary II.—It follows: 2. That God is the only truly free cause. God alone exists purely out of the necessity of His own nature (as shown in Prop. xi. and Prop. xiv., Coroll. i.), and acts solely out of the necessity of His own nature; therefore, God is (by Def. vii.) the only free cause. Q.E.D.

Note.—Others think that God is a free cause, because he can, as they think, bring it about, that those things which we have said follow from his nature—that is, which are in his power, should not come to pass, or should not be produced by him. But this is the same as if they said, that God could bring it about, that it should follow from the nature of a triangle that its three interior angles should not be equal to two right angles; or that from a given cause no effect should follow, which is absurd.

Note.—Others believe that God is a free cause because they think he can make it so that things that we’ve said follow from his nature—that is, things that are in his power—should not happen or should not be created by him. But this is just like saying that God could make it so that, according to the nature of a triangle, its three interior angles do not equal two right angles; or that from a given cause, no effect follows, which is ridiculous.

Moreover, I will show below, without the aid of this proposition, that neither intellect nor will appertain to God's nature. I know that there are many who think that they can show, that supreme intellect and free will do appertain to God's nature; for they say they know of nothing more perfect, which they can attribute to God, than that which is the highest perfection in ourselves. Further, although they conceive God as actually supremely intelligent, they yet do not believe that he can bring into existence everything which he actually understands, for they think that they would thus destroy God's power. If, they contend, God had created everything which is in his intellect, he would not be able to create anything more, and this, they think, would clash with God's omnipotence; therefore, they prefer to asset that God is indifferent to all things, and that he creates nothing except that which he has decided, by some absolute exercise of will, to create. However, I think I have shown sufficiently clearly (by Prop. xvi.), that from God's supreme power, or infinite nature, an infinite number of things—that is, all things have necessarily flowed forth in an infinite number of ways, or always flow from the same necessity; in the same way as from the nature of a triangle it follows from eternity and for eternity, that its three interior angles are equal to two right angles. Wherefore the omnipotence of God has been displayed from all eternity, and will for all eternity remain in the same state of activity. This manner of treating the question attributes to God an omnipotence, in my opinion, far more perfect. For, otherwise, we are compelled to confess that God understands an infinite number of creatable things, which he will never be able to create, for, if he created all that he understands, he would, according to this showing, exhaust his omnipotence, and render himself imperfect. Wherefore, in order to establish that God is perfect, we should be reduced to establishing at the same time, that he cannot bring to pass everything over which his power extends; this seems to be a hypothesis most absurd, and most repugnant to God's omnipotence.

Moreover, I'll demonstrate below, without relying on this proposition, that neither intellect nor will belongs to God's nature. I know many who believe they can prove that supreme intellect and free will are part of God's nature; they claim they can't think of anything more perfect to attribute to God than the highest perfection found in ourselves. Additionally, although they envision God as truly supremely intelligent, they don’t believe he can bring into existence everything he understands, as they think that would undermine God's power. They argue that if God had created everything in his intellect, he wouldn’t be able to create anything more, which they believe would contradict God's omnipotence; therefore, they assert that God is indifferent to all things and creates only what he has decided, through an absolute exercise of will, to create. However, I believe I have clearly demonstrated (by Prop. xvi.) that from God’s supreme power, or infinite nature, an infinite number of things—that is, all things—necessarily flow in countless ways, just as from the nature of a triangle it eternally follows that its three interior angles equal two right angles. Hence, God’s omnipotence has manifested from all eternity and will remain in that state of activity forever. I believe this perspective grants God a kind of omnipotence that is much more perfect. Otherwise, we must admit that God understands an infinite number of things that he will never be able to create, since if he created everything he understands, he would, based on this reasoning, exhaust his omnipotence and render himself imperfect. Therefore, to establish that God is perfect, we would have to also establish that he cannot bring about everything his power encompasses; this seems like the most absurd and contradictory hypothesis against God's omnipotence.

Further (to say a word here concerning the intellect and the will which we attribute to God), if intellect and will appertain to the eternal essence of God, we must take these words in some significance quite different from those they usually bear. For intellect and will, which should constitute the essence of God, would perforce be as far apart as the poles from the human intellect and will, in fact, would have nothing in common with them but the name; there would be about as much correspondence between the two as there is between the Dog, the heavenly constellation, and a dog, an animal that barks. This I will prove as follows. If intellect belongs to the divine nature, it cannot be in nature, as ours is generally thought to be, posterior to, or simultaneous with the things understood, inasmuch as God is prior to all things by reason of his causality (Prop. xvi., Coroll. i.). On the contrary, the truth and formal essence of things is as it is, because it exists by representation as such in the intellect of God. Wherefore the intellect of God, in so far as it is conceived to constitute God's essence, is, in reality, the cause of things, both of their essence and of their existence. This seems to have been recognized by those who have asserted, that God's intellect, God's will, and God's power, are one and the same. As, therefore, God's intellect is the sole cause of things, namely, both of their essence and existence, it must necessarily differ from them in respect to its essence, and in respect to its existence. For a cause differs from a thing it causes, precisely in the quality which the latter gains from the former.

Further (to say a word here regarding the intellect and will we attribute to God), if intellect and will are part of God's eternal essence, we need to understand these terms in a way that differs significantly from their usual meanings. The intellect and will that define God are fundamentally different from human intellect and will; they share nothing in common except for the names. The similarity between the two is about as meaningful as the difference between the Dog constellation and a dog, the barking animal. I will demonstrate this as follows. If intellect is part of divine nature, it cannot exist as ours does, being either after or simultaneous with the things it understands, since God precedes all things because of His role as their cause (Prop. xvi., Coroll. i.). Instead, the truth and formal essence of things exist as they do because they are represented in the intellect of God. Therefore, the intellect of God, as part of God's essence, is essentially the cause of things, both in terms of their essence and their existence. This seems to have been acknowledged by those who say that God's intellect, will, and power are all one and the same. Thus, because God's intellect is the only cause of things, both of their essence and existence, it must differ from them in both its essence and existence. A cause is distinct from the thing it causes precisely in the qualities the latter acquires from the former.

For example, a man is the cause of another man's existence, but not of his essence (for the latter is an eternal truth), and, therefore, the two men may be entirely similar in essence, but must be different in existence; and hence if the existence of one of them cease, the existence of the other will not necessarily cease also; but if the essence of one could be destroyed, and be made false, the essence of the other would be destroyed also. Wherefore, a thing which is the cause both of the essence and of the existence of a given effect, must differ from such effect both in respect to its essence, and also in respect to its existence. Now the intellect of God is the cause both of the essence and the existence of our intellect; therefore, the intellect of God in so far as it is conceived to constitute the divine essence, differs from our intellect both in respect to essence and in respect to existence, nor can it in anywise agree therewith save in name, as we said before. The reasoning would be identical in the case of the will, as anyone can easily see.

For instance, a man can be the reason another man exists, but not for his essence (since essence is an eternal truth). Therefore, while the two men may share the same essence, they must differ in existence. So, if one of them stops existing, it doesn’t mean the other one will stop existing too. However, if one person's essence could be destroyed and made false, the essence of the other would be destroyed as well. Thus, something that causes both the essence and existence of a certain effect must differ from that effect in terms of both essence and existence. Now, the intellect of God is the cause of both the essence and existence of our intellect; therefore, the intellect of God, as it relates to the divine essence, differs from our intellect in both essence and existence, and can only relate to it in name, as previously stated. This reasoning would apply equally to the will, as anyone can easily understand.

PROP. XVIII. God is the indwelling and not the transient cause of all things.

PROP. XVIII. God is the permanent and not the temporary cause of all things.

Proof.—All things which are, are in God, and must be conceived through God (by Prop. xv.), therefore (by Prop. xvi., Coroll. i.) God is the cause of those things which are in him. This is our first point. Further, besides God there can be no substance (by Prop. xiv.), that is nothing in itself external to God. This is our second point. God, therefore, is the indwelling and not the transient cause of all things. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Everything that exists is in God and must be understood through God (by Prop. xv.), therefore (by Prop. xvi., Coroll. i.) God is the cause of everything that exists in Him. This is our first point. Furthermore, besides God, there can be no substance (by Prop. xiv.), which means nothing exists on its own outside of God. This is our second point. Therefore, God is the inherent and not the temporary cause of all things. Q.E.D.

PROP. XIX. God, and all the attributes of God, are eternal.

PROP. XIX. God and all of God’s attributes are eternal.

Proof.—God (by Def. vi.) is substance, which (by Prop. xi.) necessarily exists, that is (by Prop. vii.) existence appertains to its nature, or (what is the same thing) follows from its definition; therefore, God is eternal (by Def. viii.). Further, by the attributes of God we must understand that which (by Def. iv.) expresses the essence of the divine substance—in other words, that which appertains to substance: that, I say, should be involved in the attributes of substance. Now eternity appertains to the nature of substance (as I have already shown in Prop. vii.); therefore, eternity must appertain to each of the attributes, and thus all are eternal. Q.E.D.

Proof.—God (as defined in Def. vi.) is substance, which (according to Prop. xi.) necessarily exists, meaning (as shown in Prop. vii.) existence is part of its nature, or (similarly) follows from its definition; therefore, God is eternal (as stated in Def. viii.). Furthermore, by the attributes of God, we mean that which (according to Def. iv.) expresses the essence of the divine substance—in other words, what relates to substance: that, I assert, should be included in the attributes of substance. Now eternity relates to the nature of substance (as I have already demonstrated in Prop. vii.); therefore, eternity must apply to each of the attributes, and thus all are eternal. Q.E.D.

Note.—This proposition is also evident from the manner in which (in Prop. xi.) I demonstrated the existence of God; it is evident, I repeat, from that proof, that the existence of God, like his essence, is an eternal truth. Further (in Prop. xix. of my "Principles of the Cartesian Philosophy"), I have proved the eternity of God, in another manner, which I need not here repeat.

Note.—This idea is also clear from how I demonstrated the existence of God in Prop. xi.; it is clear, I reiterate, from that proof that God’s existence, like His essence, is an eternal truth. Furthermore, in Prop. xix. of my "Principles of the Cartesian Philosophy," I have proven God’s eternity in another way, which I don’t need to repeat here.

PROP. XX. The existence of God and his essence are one and the same.

PROP. XX. God’s existence and His essence are the same thing.

Proof.—God (by the last Prop.) and all his attributes are eternal, that is (by Def. viii.) each of his attributes expresses existence. Therefore the same attributes of God which explain his eternal essence, explain at the same time his eternal existence—in other words, that which constitutes God's essence constitutes at the same time his existence. Wherefore God's existence and God's essence are one and the same. Q.E.D.

Proof.—God (through the last Prophet) and all his attributes are eternal, meaning that each of his attributes signifies existence. Therefore, the same attributes of God that clarify his eternal essence also clarify his eternal existence—in other words, what makes up God's essence also makes up his existence. Thus, God's existence and God's essence are one and the same. Q.E.D.

Coroll. I.—Hence it follows that God's existence, like his essence, is an eternal truth.

Coroll. I.—Therefore, it follows that God's existence, just like his essence, is an eternal truth.

Coroll. II—Secondly, it follows that God, and all the attributes of God, are unchangeable. For if they could be changed in respect to existence, they must also be able to be changed in respect to essence—that is, obviously, be changed from true to false, which is absurd.

Coroll. II—Secondly, it follows that God and all of God's attributes are unchangeable. If they could change in terms of existence, then they would also have to change in terms of essence—that is, they could change from true to false, which is obviously absurd.

PROP. XXI. All things which follow from the absolute nature of any attribute of God must always exist and be infinite, or, in other words, are eternal and infinite through the said attribute.

PROP. XXI. All things that arise from the absolute nature of any attribute of God must always exist and be infinite, or in other words, are eternal and infinite because of that attribute.

Proof.—Conceive, if it be possible (supposing the proposition to be denied), that something in some attribute of God can follow from the absolute nature of the said attribute, and that at the same time it is finite, and has a conditioned existence or duration; for instance, the idea of God expressed in the attribute thought. Now thought, in so far as it is supposed to be an attribute of God, is necessarily (by Prop. xi.) in its nature infinite. But, in so far as it possesses the idea of God, it is supposed finite. It cannot, however, be conceived as finite, unless it be limited by thought (by Def. ii.); but it is not limited by thought itself, in so far as it has constituted the idea of God (for so far it is supposed to be finite); therefore, it is limited by thought, in so far as it has not constituted the idea of God, which nevertheless (by Prop. xi.) must necessarily exist.

Proof.—Imagine, if you can (assuming the proposition is false), that something in some attribute of God can originate from the absolute nature of that attribute, while at the same time being finite and having a conditioned existence or duration; for example, the idea of God expressed in the attribute of thought. Now, thought, as it pertains to being an attribute of God, is necessarily (by Prop. xi.) infinite in nature. However, in the context of possessing the idea of God, it is assumed to be finite. Nevertheless, it cannot be considered finite unless it is bounded by thought (by Def. ii.); yet it is not bounded by thought itself, as it pertains to having formed the idea of God (since at that point it is assumed to be finite); therefore, it is bounded by thought, in the aspect that it has not formed the idea of God, which, however (by Prop. xi.) must necessarily exist.

We have now granted, therefore, thought not constituting the idea of God, and, accordingly, the idea of God does not naturally follow from its nature in so far as it is absolute thought (for it is conceived as constituting, and also as not constituting, the idea of God), which is against our hypothesis. Wherefore, if the idea of God expressed in the attribute thought, or, indeed, anything else in any attribute of God (for we may take any example, as the proof is of universal application) follows from the necessity of the absolute nature of the said attribute, the said thing must necessarily be infinite, which was our first point.

We have now established that while thought does not create the idea of God, the idea of God doesn't naturally arise from thought's nature as it is absolute (since it's understood both as creating and not creating the idea of God), which contradicts our hypothesis. Therefore, if the idea of God expressed in the attribute of thought, or any other attribute of God (since we can use any example, as the proof applies universally), comes from the necessity of that attribute's absolute nature, then that idea must necessarily be infinite, which was our initial point.

Furthermore, a thing which thus follows from the necessity of the nature of any attribute cannot have a limited duration. For if it can, suppose a thing, which follows from the necessity of the nature of some attribute, to exist in some attribute of God, for instance, the idea of God expressed in the attribute thought, and let it be supposed at some time not to have existed, or to be about not to exist.

Furthermore, something that follows from the inherent nature of any attribute cannot have a limited duration. Because if it could, imagine something that comes from the necessity of the nature of an attribute existing in some aspect of God, for example, the idea of God represented in the attribute of thought, and let’s assume at some point it didn't exist or is about to not exist.

Now thought being an attribute of God, must necessarily exist unchanged (by Prop. xi., and Prop. xx., Coroll. ii.); and beyond the limits of the duration of the idea of God (supposing the latter at some time not to have existed, or not to be going to exist) thought would perforce have existed without the idea of God, which is contrary to our hypothesis, for we supposed that, thought being given, the idea of God necessarily flowed therefrom. Therefore the idea of God expressed in thought, or anything which necessarily follows from the absolute nature of some attribute of God, cannot have a limited duration, but through the said attribute is eternal, which is our second point. Bear in mind that the same proposition may be affirmed of anything, which in any attribute necessarily follows from God's absolute nature.

Now, since thought is an attribute of God, it must exist unchanged (as shown in Prop. xi. and Prop. xx., Coroll. ii.); and outside the limits of the duration of the idea of God (assuming that the idea did not exist at some point, or isn’t going to exist) thought would necessarily have existed without the idea of God, which contradicts our assumption, because we proposed that when thought is present, the idea of God must follow from it. Therefore, the idea of God expressed in thought, or anything that necessarily comes from the absolute nature of any attribute of God, cannot have a limited duration. Rather, it is eternal through that attribute, which is our second point. Remember that the same proposition can be applied to anything that necessarily follows from God's absolute nature in any attribute.

PROP. XXII. Whatsoever follows from any attribute of God, in so far as it is modified by a modification, which exists necessarily and as infinite, through the said attribute, must also exist necessarily and as infinite.

PROP. XXII. Whatever comes from any attribute of God, as long as it is shaped by a modification that exists necessarily and infinitely through that attribute, must also exist necessarily and infinitely.

Proof.—The proof of this proposition is similar to that of the preceding one.

Proof.—The proof of this proposition is similar to that of the previous one.

PROP. XXIII. Every mode, which exists both necessarily and as infinite, must necessarily follow either from the absolute nature of some attribute of God, or from an attribute modified by a modification which exists necessarily, and as infinite.

PROP. XXIII. Every mode that exists necessarily and infinitely must come from either the absolute nature of some attribute of God or from an attribute that is modified by a modification that exists necessarily and infinitely.

Proof.—A mode exists in something else, through which it must be conceived (Def. v.), that is (Prop. xv.), it exists solely in God, and solely through God can be conceived. If therefore a mode is conceived as necessarily existing and infinite, it must necessarily be inferred or perceived through some attribute of God, in so far as such attribute is conceived as expressing the infinity and necessity of existence, in other words (Def. viii.) eternity; that is, in so far as it is considered absolutely. A mode, therefore, which necessarily exists as infinite, must follow from the absolute nature of some attribute of God, either immediately (Prop. xxi.) or through the means of some modification, which follows from the absolute nature of the said attribute; that is (by Prop. xxii.), which exists necessarily and as infinite.

Proof.—A mode exists in something else, through which it must be understood (Def. v.), that is (Prop. xv.), it exists only in God, and can only be understood through God. So if a mode is understood as necessarily existing and infinite, it must necessarily be inferred or perceived through some attribute of God, in so far as that attribute is understood as expressing the infinity and necessity of existence, in other words (Def. viii.) eternity; that is, in so far as it is considered absolutely. A mode, therefore, which necessarily exists as infinite, must follow from the absolute nature of some attribute of God, either directly (Prop. xxi.) or through some modification that follows from the absolute nature of that attribute; that is (by Prop. xxii.), which exists necessarily and as infinite.

PROP. XXIV. The essence of things produced by God does not involve existence.

PROP. XXIV. The essence of things created by God does not require existence.

Proof.—This proposition is evident from Def. i. For that of which the nature (considered in itself) involves existence is self—caused, and exists by the sole necessity of its own nature.

Proof.—This statement is clear from Def. i. Anything whose nature (when considered on its own) includes existence is self-caused and exists solely by the necessity of its own nature.

Corollary.—Hence it follows that God is not only the cause of things coming into existence, but also of their continuing in existence, that is, in scholastic phraseology, God is cause of the being of things (essendi rerum). For whether things exist, or do not exist, whenever we contemplate their essence, we see that it involves neither existence nor duration; consequently, it cannot be the cause of either the one or the other. God must be the sole cause, inasmuch as to him alone does existence appertain. (Prop. xiv. Coroll. i.) Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Therefore, it follows that God is not just the reason things come into existence, but also the reason they continue to exist. In scholastic terms, God is the cause of the being of things (essendi rerum). Whether things exist or not, when we think about their essence, we see that it doesn’t imply either existence or duration; hence, it can’t be the cause of either. God must be the only cause since existence belongs solely to Him. (Prop. xiv. Coroll. i.) Q.E.D.

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

PROP. XXV. God is the active cause not just of things existing, but also of what they are.

Proof.—If this be denied, then God is not the cause of the essence of things; and therefore the essence of things can (by Ax. iv.) be conceived without God. This (by Prop. xv.) is absurd. Therefore, God is the cause of the essence of things. Q.E.D.

Proof.—If this is denied, then God is not the cause of the essence of things; and therefore, the essence of things can (by Ax. iv.) be understood without God. This (by Prop. xv.) is absurd. Therefore, God is the cause of the essence of things. Q.E.D.

Note.—This proposition follows more clearly from Prop. xvi. For it is evident thereby that, given the divine nature, the essence of things must be inferred from it, no less than their existence—in a word, God must be called the cause of all things, in the same sense as he is called the cause of himself. This will be made still clearer by the following corollary.

Note.—This proposition is more clearly derived from Prop. xvi. It's obvious that, given the divine nature, we must infer the essence of things just as we do their existence—in short, God must be considered the cause of all things, in the same way that He is called the cause of Himself. This will be even clearer with the following corollary.

Corollary.—Individual things are nothing but modifications of the attributes of God, or modes by which the attributes of God are expressed in a fixed and definite manner. The proof appears from Prop. xv. and Def. v.

Corollary.—Individual things are simply variations of God's attributes, or ways in which God's attributes are expressed in a clear and specific way. The proof can be found in Prop. xv. and Def. v.

PROP. XXVI. A thing which is conditioned to act in a particular manner, has necessarily been thus conditioned by God; and that which has not been conditioned by God cannot condition itself to act.

PROP. XXVI. A thing that is set to act in a certain way has necessarily been set by God; and what has not been set by God cannot set itself to act.

Proof.—That by which things are said to be conditioned to act in a particular manner is necessarily something positive (this is obvious); therefore both of its essence and of its existence God by the necessity of his nature is the efficient cause (Props. xxv. and xvi.); this is our first point. Our second point is plainly to be inferred therefrom. For if a thing, which has not been conditioned by God, could condition itself, the first part of our proof would be false, and this, as we have shown is absurd.

Proof.—What causes things to act in a specific way must be something positive (this is clear); therefore, both in essence and existence, God, by the necessity of His nature, is the efficient cause (Props. xxv. and xvi.); this is our first point. Our second point is clearly implied from this. For if something that hasn't been conditioned by God could condition itself, then the first part of our proof would be false, and as we've shown, that is absurd.

PROP. XXVII. A thing, which has been conditioned by God to act in a particular way, cannot render itself unconditioned.

PROP. XXVII. A thing that has been designed by God to act in a certain way cannot change itself to act differently.

Proof.—This proposition is evident from the third axiom.

Proof.—This statement is clear from the third axiom.

PROP. XXVIII. Every individual thing, or everything which is finite and has a conditioned existence, cannot exist or be conditioned to act, unless it be conditioned for existence and action by a cause other than itself, which also is finite, and has a conditioned existence; and likewise this cause cannot in its turn exist, or be conditioned to act, unless it be conditioned for existence and action by another cause, which also is finite, and has a conditioned existence, and so on to infinity.

PROP. XXVIII. Every individual thing, or anything that is finite and has a specific existence, cannot exist or be able to act unless it is enabled for existence and action by a cause outside of itself, which is also finite and has a specific existence; and similarly, this cause cannot exist or act unless it is enabled for existence and action by another cause, which is also finite and has a specific existence, and this pattern continues infinitely.

Proof.—Whatsoever is conditioned to exist and act, has been thus conditioned by God (by Prop. xxvi. and Prop. xxiv., Coroll.).

Proof.—Everything that is designed to exist and function has been designed by God (by Prop. xxvi. and Prop. xxiv., Coroll.).

But that which is finite, and has a conditioned existence, cannot be produced by the absolute nature of any attribute of God; for whatsoever follows from the absolute nature of any attribute of God is infinite and eternal (by Prop. xxi.). It must, therefore, follow from some attribute of God, in so far as the said attribute is considered as in some way modified; for substance and modes make up the sum total of existence (by Ax. i. and Def. iii., v.), while modes are merely modifications of the attributes of God. But from God, or from any of his attributes, in so far as the latter is modified by a modification infinite and eternal, a conditioned thing cannot follow. Wherefore it must follow from, or be conditioned for, existence and action by God or one of his attributes, in so far as the latter are modified by some modification which is finite, and has a conditioned existence. This is our first point. Again, this cause or this modification (for the reason by which we established the first part of this proof) must in its turn be conditioned by another cause, which also is finite, and has a conditioned existence, and, again, this last by another (for the same reason); and so on (for the same reason) to infinity. Q.E.D.

But something that is finite and has a conditioned existence cannot come from the absolute nature of any attribute of God; because anything that derives from the absolute nature of any attribute of God is infinite and eternal (as shown in Prop. xxi.). Therefore, it must originate from some attribute of God, as that attribute is considered in some way altered; because substance and modes account for the totality of existence (as indicated in Ax. i. and Def. iii., v.), while modes are merely alterations of the attributes of God. However, conditioned things cannot arise from God or from any of His attributes, as these attributes are altered by something infinite and eternal. Thus, they must derive from or be conditioned for existence and action by God or one of His attributes, as long as these are modified by some finite alteration that has a conditioned existence. This is our first point. Furthermore, this cause or this modification (based on the reasoning which established the first part of this proof) must in turn be conditioned by another cause, which is also finite and has a conditioned existence, and this last one must be conditioned by another (for the same reason); and so on (for the same reason) to infinity. Q.E.D.

Note.—As certain things must be produced immediately by God, namely those things which necessarily follow from his absolute nature, through the means of these primary attributes, which, nevertheless, can neither exist nor be conceived without God, it follows:—1. That God is absolutely the proximate cause of those things immediately produced by him. I say absolutely, not after his kind, as is usually stated. For the effects of God cannot either exist or be conceived without a cause (Prop. xv. and Prop. xxiv. Coroll.). 2. That God cannot properly be styled the remote cause of individual things, except for the sake of distinguishing these from what he immediately produces, or rather from what follows from his absolute nature. For, by a remote cause, we understand a cause which is in no way conjoined to the effect. But all things which are, are in God, and so depend on God, that without him they can neither be nor be conceived.

Note.—Certain things must be immediately created by God, specifically those that necessarily arise from his absolute nature, through these primary attributes, which cannot exist or be comprehended without God. Therefore: 1. God is absolutely the immediate cause of those things he directly produces. I emphasize absolutely, not in a way like it's typically said. The effects of God cannot exist or be conceived without a cause (Prop. xv. and Prop. xxiv. Coroll.). 2. God can't properly be called the distant cause of individual things, except when distinguishing them from what he immediately creates or what follows from his absolute nature. A distant cause is understood as a cause that is not connected to the effect in any way. But everything that exists is in God, and thus depends on God, so that without him, they cannot exist or be comprehended.

PROP. XXIX. Nothing in the universe is contingent, but all things are conditioned to exist and operate in a particular manner by the necessity of the divine nature.

PROP. XXIX. Nothing in the universe is random; everything exists and functions in a specific way due to the necessity of the divine nature.

Proof.—Whatsoever is, is in God (Prop. xv.). But God cannot be called a thing contingent. For (by Prop. xi.) he exists necessarily, and not contingently. Further, the modes of the divine nature follow therefrom necessarily, and not contingently (Prop. xvi.); and they thus follow, whether we consider the divine nature absolutely, or whether we consider it as in any way conditioned to act (Prop. xxvii.). Further, God is not only the cause of these modes, in so far as they simply exist (by Prop. xxiv, Coroll.), but also in so far as they are considered as conditioned for operating in a particular manner (Prop. xxvi.). If they be not conditioned by God (Prop. xxvi.), it is impossible, and not contingent, that they should condition themselves; contrariwise, if they be conditioned by God, it is impossible, and not contingent, that they should render themselves unconditioned. Wherefore all things are conditioned by the necessity of the divine nature, not only to exist, but also to exist and operate in a particular manner, and there is nothing that is contingent. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Everything that exists is in God (Prop. xv.). But God cannot be called a contingent being. For (by Prop. xi.) he exists necessarily, not contingently. Furthermore, the modes of the divine nature necessarily follow from this, not contingently (Prop. xvi.); and they follow this way whether we consider the divine nature absolutely or as in any way conditioned to act (Prop. xxvii.). Additionally, God is not only the cause of these modes in terms of their mere existence (by Prop. xxiv, Coroll.), but also when considering them as conditioned to operate in a specific way (Prop. xxvi.). If they are not conditioned by God (Prop. xxvi.), it is impossible, and not contingent, that they should condition themselves; conversely, if they are conditioned by God, it is impossible, and not contingent, that they should make themselves unconditioned. Therefore, everything is conditioned by the necessity of the divine nature, not only to exist but also to exist and operate in a specific way, and nothing is contingent. Q.E.D.

Note.—Before going any further, I wish here to explain, what we should understand by nature viewed as active (natura naturans), and nature viewed as passive (natura naturata). I say to explain, or rather call attention to it, for I think that, from what has been said, it is sufficiently clear, that by nature viewed as active we should understand that which is in itself, and is conceived through itself, or those attributes of substance, which express eternal and infinite essence, in other words (Prop. xiv., Coroll. i., and Prop. xvii., Coroll. ii) God, in so far as he is considered as a free cause.

Note.—Before we continue, I want to clarify what we mean by nature as active (natura naturans) and nature as passive (natura naturata). I say clarify, or rather draw attention to it, because I believe it is clear from what has already been said that by nature as active, we mean that which exists in itself and is understood through itself, or those qualities of substance that express eternal and infinite essence. In other words (Prop. xiv., Coroll. i., and Prop. xvii., Coroll. ii), God, as considered a free cause.

By nature viewed as passive I understand all that which follows from the necessity of the nature of God, or of any of the attributes of God, that is, all the modes of the attributes of God, in so far as they are considered as things which are in God, and which without God cannot exist or be conceived.

By nature, seen as passive, I understand everything that comes from the necessity of God's nature or any of God's attributes. That is, all the ways God's attributes manifest, as long as they are viewed as things that exist in God and can't exist or be imagined without God.

PROP. XXX. Intellect, in function (actu) finite, or in function infinite, must comprehend the attributes of God and the modifications of God, and nothing else.

PROP. XXX. Intellect, whether functioning in a limited way or an unlimited way, must understand the attributes of God and the variations of God, and nothing else.

Proof.—A true idea must agree with its object (Ax. vi.); in other words (obviously), that which is contained in the intellect in representation must necessarily be granted in nature. But in nature (by Prop. xiv., Coroll. i.) there is no substance save God, nor any modifications save those (Prop. xv.) which are in God, and cannot without God either be or be conceived. Therefore the intellect, in function finite, or in function infinite, must comprehend the attributes of God and the modifications of God, and nothing else. Q.E.D.

Proof.—A true idea must match its object (Ax. vi.); in other words (obviously), what is represented in the mind must also exist in reality. But in reality (by Prop. xiv., Coroll. i.) there is no substance except God, and no changes except those (Prop. xv.) that exist in God, which cannot exist or be thought of without God. Therefore, the mind, whether functioning finitely or infinitely, must understand the attributes of God and the changes of God, and nothing else. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXXI. The intellect in function, whether finite or infinite, as will, desire, love, &c., should be referred to passive nature and not to active nature.

PROP. XXXI. The intellect in action, whether limited or unlimited, like will, desire, love, etc., should be considered part of passive nature rather than active nature.

Proof.—By the intellect we do not (obviously) mean absolute thought, but only a certain mode of thinking, differing from other modes, such as love, desire, &c., and therefore (Def. v.) requiring to be conceived through absolute thought. It must (by Prop. xv. and Def. vi.), through some attribute of God which expresses the eternal and infinite essence of thought, be so conceived, that without such attribute it could neither be nor be conceived. It must therefore be referred to nature passive rather than to nature active, as must also the other modes of thinking. Q.E.D.

Proof.—By intellect, we don’t mean absolute thought but rather a specific way of thinking that’s different from other ways like love, desire, etc. This means (Def. v.) it must be understood through absolute thought. It should (by Prop. xv. and Def. vi.) be conceived through an attribute of God that expresses the eternal and infinite essence of thought, such that without this attribute, it couldn’t exist or be understood. Thus, it should be linked to passive nature rather than active nature, similar to the other ways of thinking. Q.E.D.

Note.—I do not here, by speaking of intellect in function, admit that there is such a thing as intellect in potentiality: but, wishing to avoid all confusion, I desire to speak only of what is most clearly perceived by us, namely, of the very act of understanding, than which nothing is more clearly perceived. For we cannot perceive anything without adding to our knowledge of the act of understanding.

Note.—I’m not here suggesting that there’s a concept of potential intellect; instead, I want to talk only about what we can clearly see, which is the act of understanding—nothing is more obvious than that. We can’t truly perceive anything without enhancing our knowledge of the act of understanding.

PROP. XXXII. Will cannot be called a free cause, but only a necessary cause.

PROP. XXXII. Will cannot be labeled as a free cause, but only as a necessary cause.

Proof.—Will is only a particular mode of thinking, like intellect; therefore (by Prop. xxviii.) no volition can exist, nor be conditioned to act, unless it be conditioned by some cause other than itself, which cause is conditioned by a third cause, and so on to infinity. But if will be supposed infinite, it must also be conditioned to exist and act by God, not by virtue of his being substance absolutely infinite, but by virtue of his possessing an attribute which expresses the infinite and eternal essence of thought (by Prop. xxiii.). Thus, however it be conceived, whether as finite or infinite, it requires a cause by which it should be conditioned to exist and act. Thus (Def. vii.) it cannot be called a free cause, but only a necessary or constrained cause. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Will is just a specific way of thinking, similar to intellect; therefore (by Prop. xxviii.) no will can exist or be set in motion unless it's influenced by some cause outside of itself, which in turn is influenced by another cause, and so on indefinitely. But if will is thought to be infinite, it must also be influenced to exist and act by God, not because He is absolutely infinite substance, but because He has an attribute that represents the infinite and eternal essence of thought (by Prop. xxiii.). So, no matter how it’s understood, whether as finite or infinite, it still needs a cause to exist and act. Thus (Def. vii.) it can't be considered a free cause, but only a necessary or constrained cause. Q.E.D.

Coroll. I.—Hence it follows, first, that God does not act according to freedom of the will.

Coroll. I.—Therefore, it follows that God does not act based on the freedom of will.

Coroll. II.—It follows, secondly, that will and intellect stand in the same relation to the nature of God as do motion, and rest, and absolutely all natural phenomena, which must be conditioned by God (Prop. xxix.) to exist and act in a particular manner. For will, like the rest, stands in need of a cause, by which it is conditioned to exist and act in a particular manner. And although, when will or intellect be granted, an infinite number of results may follow, yet God cannot on that account be said to act from freedom of the will, any more than the infinite number of results from motion and rest would justify us in saying that motion and rest act by free will. Wherefore will no more appertains to God than does anything else in nature, but stands in the same relation to him as motion, rest, and the like, which we have shown to follow from the necessity of the divine nature, and to be conditioned by it to exist and act in a particular manner.

Coroll. II.—It follows, secondly, that will and intellect are related to the nature of God in the same way that motion, rest, and all natural phenomena are, which must be conditioned by God (Prop. xxix.) to exist and operate in a specific way. For will, like the others, requires a cause to exist and act in a particular manner. And even though an infinite number of outcomes may result from will or intellect, that doesn't mean God acts freely out of will, any more than we could say that motion and rest act by free will just because they can result in an infinite number of outcomes. Therefore, will is no more part of God's nature than anything else in nature, but is related to Him in the same way as motion and rest, which we have shown to arise from the necessity of the divine nature and are conditioned by it to exist and act in a specific way.

PROP. XXXIII. Things could not have been brought into being by God in any manner or in any order different from that which has in fact obtained.

PROP. XXXIII. Things could not have been created by God in any way or in any order different from the way they actually exist.

Proof—All things necessarily follow from the nature of God (Prop. xvi.), and by the nature of God are conditioned to exist and act in a particular way (Prop. xxix.). If things, therefore, could have been of a different nature, or have been conditioned to act in a different way, so that the order of nature would have been different, God's nature would also have been able to be different from what it now is; and therefore (by Prop. xi.) that different nature also would have perforce existed, and consequently there would have been able to be two or more Gods. This (by Prop. xiv., Coroll. i.) is absurd. Therefore things could not have been brought into being by God in any other manner, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof—Everything necessarily follows from the nature of God (Prop. xvi.), and by the nature of God, things are determined to exist and act in a specific way (Prop. xxix.). If things could have had a different nature or been conditioned to act differently, leading to a different order of nature, then God's nature could also have been different from what it currently is; thus (by Prop. xi.), that different nature would have had to exist, and as a result, there could have been two or more Gods. This (by Prop. xiv., Coroll. i.) is absurd. Therefore, things could not have been created by God in any other way, etc. Q.E.D.

Note I.—As I have thus shown, more clearly than the sun at noonday, that there is nothing to justify us in calling things contingent, I wish to explain briefly what meaning we shall attach to the word contingent; but I will first explain the words necessary and impossible.

Note I.—As I have shown more clearly than the sun at noon, there is no reason to call things contingent. I want to briefly explain what we mean by the word contingent; but first, I'll explain the terms necessary and impossible.

A thing is called necessary either in respect to its essence or in respect to its cause; for the existence of a thing necessarily follows, either from its essence and definition, or from a given efficient cause. For similar reasons a thing is said to be impossible; namely, inasmuch as its essence or definition involves a contradiction, or because no external cause is granted, which is conditioned to produce such an effect; but a thing can in no respect be called contingent, save in relation to the imperfection of our knowledge.

A thing is called necessary either because of its essence or because of its cause; the existence of a thing necessarily follows from either its essence and definition, or from a specific effective cause. For similar reasons, a thing is said to be impossible; that is, if its essence or definition involves a contradiction, or if there is no external cause available that could produce such an effect; however, a thing can only be considered contingent in relation to the limitations of our knowledge.

A thing of which we do not know whether the essence does or does not involve a contradiction, or of which, knowing that it does not involve a contradiction, we are still in doubt concerning the existence, because the order of causes escapes us,—such a thing, I say, cannot appear to us either necessary or impossible. Wherefore we call it contingent or possible.

A thing that we don't know whether its essence involves a contradiction or, even if we know it doesn't involve a contradiction, we still doubt its existence because we can't grasp the order of causes—such a thing cannot seem necessary or impossible to us. So, we refer to it as contingent or possible.

Note II.—It clearly follows from what we have said, that things have been brought into being by God in the highest perfection, inasmuch as they have necessarily followed from a most perfect nature. Nor does this prove any imperfection in God, for it has compelled us to affirm his perfection. From its contrary proposition, we should clearly gather (as I have just shown), that God is not supremely perfect, for if things had been brought into being in any other way, we should have to assign to God a nature different from that, which we are bound to attribute to him from the consideration of an absolutely perfect being.

Note II.—It’s clear from what we’ve said that everything has been created by God in the highest way, as these things necessarily come from a most perfect nature. This doesn’t indicate any imperfection in God; rather, it leads us to affirm his perfection. From the opposite idea, we would clearly conclude (as I’ve just shown) that God is not supremely perfect, because if things had been created differently, we would have to assign God a nature that isn’t aligned with what we must attribute to him as an absolutely perfect being.

I do not doubt, that many will scout this idea as absurd, and will refuse to give their minds up to contemplating it, simply because they are accustomed to assign to God a freedom very different from that which we (Def. vii.) have deduced. They assign to him, in short, absolute free will. However, I am also convinced that if such persons reflect on the matter, and duly weigh in their minds our series of propositions, they will reject such freedom as they now attribute to God, not only as nugatory, but also as a great impediment to organized knowledge. There is no need for me to repeat what I have said in the note to Prop. xvii. But, for the sake of my opponents, I will show further, that although it be granted that will pertains to the essence of God, it nevertheless follows from his perfection, that things could not have been by him created other than they are, or in a different order; this is easily proved, if we reflect on what our opponents themselves concede, namely, that it depends solely on the decree and will of God, that each thing is what it is. If it were otherwise, God would not be the cause of all things. Further, that all the decrees of God have been ratified from all eternity by God himself. If it were otherwise, God would be convicted of imperfection or change. But in eternity there is no such thing as when, before, or after; hence it follows solely from the perfection of God, that God never can decree, or never could have decreed anything but what is; that God did not exist before his decrees, and would not exist without them. But, it is said, supposing that God had made a different universe, or had ordained other decrees from all eternity concerning nature and her order, we could not therefore conclude any imperfection in God. But persons who say this must admit that God can change his decrees. For if God had ordained any decrees concerning nature and her order, different from those which he has ordained—in other words, if he had willed and conceived something different concerning nature—he would perforce have had a different intellect from that which he has, and also a different will. But if it were allowable to assign to God a different intellect and a different will, without any change in his essence or his perfection, what would there be to prevent him changing the decrees which he has made concerning created things, and nevertheless remaining perfect? For his intellect and will concerning things created and their order are the same, in respect to his essence and perfection, however they be conceived.

I have no doubt that many will see this idea as ridiculous and will refuse to even think about it simply because they are used to giving God a type of freedom that is quite different from what we (Def. vii.) have concluded. They essentially assign him absolute free will. However, I’m also convinced that if these individuals take a moment to reflect and properly consider our series of propositions, they will reject the kind of freedom they attribute to God, not only as meaningless but also as a significant barrier to organized knowledge. I don’t need to repeat what I mentioned in the note to Prop. xvii. But, for the sake of my opponents, I will further demonstrate that even if it’s accepted that will is part of God’s essence, it follows from his perfection that he could not have created things differently than they are or in a different order. This can be easily proven if we think about what our opponents themselves agree on, which is that it solely depends on God's decree and will that each thing is what it is. If it were otherwise, God wouldn’t be the cause of all things. Moreover, all of God’s decrees have been established from all eternity by God himself. If that weren’t the case, God would be seen as imperfect or changeable. But in eternity, there’s no concept of before or after; thus, it follows from God’s perfection that he can never decree, nor could he have decreed, anything other than what is; that God did not exist before his decrees and would not exist without them. However, it’s argued that if God had created a different universe or had made different decrees from all eternity regarding nature and her order, we still couldn’t conclude any imperfection in God. But those who say this must accept that God can change his decrees. For if God had decreed anything concerning nature and her order that was different from what he has established—in other words, if he had willed or thought of something different regarding nature—he would inevitably have to possess a different intellect and will than he currently does. But if we could attribute to God a different intellect and will without any change in his essence or perfection, what would prevent him from changing the decrees he has made concerning created things while still remaining perfect? Because his intellect and will regarding created things and their order are the same, in relation to his essence and perfection, no matter how they are conceived.

Further, all the philosophers whom I have read admit that God's intellect is entirely actual, and not at all potential; as they also admit that God's intellect, and God's will, and God's essence are identical, it follows that, if God had had a different actual intellect and a different will, his essence would also have been different; and thus, as I concluded at first, if things had been brought into being by God in a different way from that which has obtained, God's intellect and will, that is (as is admitted) his essence would perforce have been different, which is absurd.

Furthermore, all the philosophers I've read agree that God's intellect is completely actual and not at all potential. They also agree that God's intellect, will, and essence are the same. This means that if God had a different actual intellect and a different will, his essence would also have been different. Therefore, as I concluded initially, if things had been created by God in a different manner than what actually happened, God's intellect and will—essentially his essence—would necessarily have been different, which is absurd.

As these things could not have been brought into being by God in any but the actual way and order which has obtained; and as the truth of this proposition follows from the supreme perfection of God; we can have no sound reason for persuading ourselves to believe that God did not wish to create all the things which were in his intellect, and to create them in the same perfection as he had understood them.

As these things couldn't have been created by God in any way other than the actual method and order that exists; and since the truth of this statement stems from God's ultimate perfection; we have no solid reason to convince ourselves that God didn't intend to create everything that was in his mind and to create them with the same perfection that he understood.

But, it will be said, there is in things no perfection nor imperfection; that which is in them, and which causes them to be called perfect or imperfect, good or bad, depends solely on the will of God. If God had so willed, he might have brought it about that what is now perfection should be extreme imperfection, and vice versâ. What is such an assertion, but an open declaration that God, who necessarily understands that which he wishes, might bring it about by his will, that he should understand things differently from the way in which he does understand them? This (as we have just shown) is the height of absurdity. Wherefore, I may turn the argument against its employers, as follows:—All things depend on the power of God. In order that things should be different from what they are, God's will would necessarily have to be different. But God's will cannot be different (as we have just most clearly demonstrated) from God's perfection. Therefore neither can things be different. I confess, that the theory which subjects all things to the will of an indifferent deity, and asserts that they are all dependent on his fiat, is less far from the truth than the theory of those, who maintain that God acts in all things with a view of promoting what is good. For these latter persons seem to set up something beyond God, which does not depend on God, but which God in acting looks to as an exemplar, or which he aims at as a definite goal. This is only another name for subjecting God to the dominion of destiny, an utter absurdity in respect to God, whom we have shown to be the first and only free cause of the essence of all things and also of their existence. I need, therefore, spend no time in refuting such wild theories.

But some may argue that things have no inherent perfection or imperfection; what we label as perfect or imperfect, good or bad, is entirely based on God's will. If God wanted to, He could make what we currently see as perfection into extreme imperfection, and vice versa. What does this assertion mean, if not that God, who fully understands what He desires, might choose to understand things differently than He currently does? This, as we've just shown, is completely absurd. Therefore, I can turn the argument against those who make it: all things depend on God's power. For things to be different from how they are, God's will would necessarily need to be different. But God's will cannot differ (as we've just clearly demonstrated) from God's perfection. So, things cannot be different either. I admit that the idea which subjects everything to the will of an indifferent deity, claiming they depend on His command, is less removed from the truth than the view that God acts in everything to promote what is good. The latter seems to create something outside of God, something that does not depend on Him, which He looks to as a model or aims for as a specific goal. This is just another way of placing God under the power of fate, which is utterly absurd regarding God, whom we've established as the first and only free cause of the essence of all things and their existence. Therefore, I don’t need to waste time refuting such outrageous theories.

PROP. XXXIV. God's power is identical with his essence.

PROP. XXXIV. God's power is the same as his essence.

Proof.—From the sole necessity of the essence of God it follows that God is the cause of himself (Prop. xi.) and of all things (Prop. xvi. and Coroll.). Wherefore the power of God, by which he and all things are and act, is identical with his essence. Q.E.D.

Proof.—From the essential nature of God, it follows that God is the cause of Himself (Prop. xi.) and of everything (Prop. xvi. and Coroll.). Therefore, God's power, by which He and everything exist and act, is the same as His essence. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXXV. Whatsoever we conceive to be in the power of God, necessarily exists.

PROP. XXXV. Whatever we believe to be within God's power necessarily exists.

Proof.—Whatsoever is in God's power, must (by the last Prop.) be comprehended in his essence in such a manner, that it necessarily follows therefrom, and therefore necessarily exists. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Whatever is within God's power must (according to the last Prophet) be included in His essence in such a way that it necessarily follows from it, and therefore must exist. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXXVI. There is no cause from whose nature some effect does not follow.

PROP. XXXVI. Every cause has an effect that follows from its nature.

Proof.—Whatsoever exists expresses God's nature or essence in a given conditioned manner (by Prop. xxv., Coroll.); that is, (by Prop. xxxiv.), whatsoever exists, expresses in a given conditioned manner God's power, which is the cause of all things, therefore an effect must (by Prop. xvi.) necessarily follow. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Everything that exists reflects God's nature or essence in a specific conditioned way (by Prop. xxv., Coroll.); that is, (by Prop. xxxiv.), everything that exists expresses God's power, which is the cause of all things, therefore an effect must (by Prop. xvi.) necessarily follow. Q.E.D.


APPENDIX:

In the foregoing I have explained the nature and properties of God. I have shown that he necessarily exists, that he is one: that he is, and acts solely by the necessity of his own nature; that he is the free cause of all things, and how he is so; that all things are in God, and so depend on him, that without him they could neither exist nor be conceived; lastly, that all things are predetermined by God, not through his free will or absolute fiat, but from the very nature of God or infinite power. I have further, where occasion afforded, taken care to remove the prejudices, which might impede the comprehension of my demonstrations. Yet there still remain misconceptions not a few, which might and may prove very grave hindrances to the understanding of the concatenation of things, as I have explained it above. I have therefore thought it worth while to bring these misconceptions before the bar of reason.

In the previous sections, I've explained the nature and properties of God. I've shown that He necessarily exists, that He is one; that He is and acts solely based on the necessity of His own nature; that He is the free cause of all things and how that is the case; that all things exist within God and depend on Him so much that without Him, they could neither exist nor be imagined; and finally, that all things are predetermined by God, not through His free will or absolute decree, but from the very nature of God or infinite power. Additionally, where possible, I’ve taken care to address any biases that might hinder understanding my arguments. However, there are still several misconceptions that could pose serious obstacles to understanding the connections between things as I’ve explained them above. Therefore, I thought it was important to examine these misconceptions critically.

All such opinions spring from the notion commonly entertained, that all things in nature act as men themselves act, namely, with an end in view. It is accepted as certain, that God himself directs all things to a definite goal (for it is said that God made all things for man, and man that he might worship him). I will, therefore, consider this opinion, asking first, why it obtains general credence, and why all men are naturally so prone to adopt it? secondly, I will point out its falsity; and, lastly, I will show how it has given rise to prejudices about good and bad, right and wrong, praise and blame, order and confusion, beauty and ugliness, and the like. However, this is not the place to deduce these misconceptions from the nature of the human mind: it will be sufficient here, if I assume as a starting point, what ought to be universally admitted, namely, that all men are born ignorant of the causes of things, that all have the desire to seek for what is useful to them, and that they are conscious of such desire. Herefrom it follows, first, that men think themselves free inasmuch as they are conscious of their volitions and desires, and never even dream, in their ignorance, of the causes which have disposed them so to wish and desire. Secondly, that men do all things for an end, namely, for that which is useful to them, and which they seek. Thus it comes to pass that they only look for a knowledge of the final causes of events, and when these are learned, they are content, as having no cause for further doubt. If they cannot learn such causes from external sources, they are compelled to turn to considering themselves, and reflecting what end would have induced them personally to bring about the given event, and thus they necessarily judge other natures by their own. Further, as they find in themselves and outside themselves many means which assist them not a little in the search for what is useful, for instance, eyes for seeing, teeth for chewing, herbs and animals for yielding food, the sun for giving light, the sea for breeding fish, &c., they come to look on the whole of nature as a means for obtaining such conveniences. Now as they are aware, that they found these conveniences and did not make them, they think they have cause for believing, that some other being has made them for their use. As they look upon things as means, they cannot believe them to be self—created; but, judging from the means which they are accustomed to prepare for themselves, they are bound to believe in some ruler or rulers of the universe endowed with human freedom, who have arranged and adapted everything for human use. They are bound to estimate the nature of such rulers (having no information on the subject) in accordance with their own nature, and therefore they assert that the gods ordained everything for the use of man, in order to bind man to themselves and obtain from him the highest honor. Hence also it follows, that everyone thought out for himself, according to his abilities, a different way of worshipping God, so that God might love him more than his fellows, and direct the whole course of nature for the satisfaction of his blind cupidity and insatiable avarice. Thus the prejudice developed into superstition, and took deep root in the human mind; and for this reason everyone strove most zealously to understand and explain the final causes of things; but in their endeavor to show that nature does nothing in vain, i.e. nothing which is useless to man, they only seem to have demonstrated that nature, the gods, and men are all mad together. Consider, I pray you, the result: among the many helps of nature they were bound to find some hindrances, such as storms, earthquakes, diseases, &c.: so they declared that such things happen, because the gods are angry at some wrong done to them by men, or at some fault committed in their worship. Experience day by day protested and showed by infinite examples, that good and evil fortunes fall to the lot of pious and impious alike; still they would not abandon their inveterate prejudice, for it was more easy for them to class such contradictions among other unknown things of whose use they were ignorant, and thus to retain their actual and innate condition of ignorance, than to destroy the whole fabric of their reasoning and start afresh. They therefore laid down as an axiom, that God's judgments far transcend human understanding. Such a doctrine might well have sufficed to conceal the truth from the human race for all eternity, if mathematics had not furnished another standard of verity in considering solely the essence and properties of figures without regard to their final causes. There are other reasons (which I need not mention here) besides mathematics, which might have caused men's minds to be directed to these general prejudices, and have led them to the knowledge of the truth.

All such opinions come from the common belief that everything in nature acts like humans do, with a purpose in mind. It’s generally accepted that God directs all things toward a specific goal (as it’s said that God made everything for man, and man to worship Him). Therefore, I will examine this belief by first asking why it’s widely accepted and why people are naturally inclined to adopt it. Secondly, I will point out its falsehood, and finally, I will show how it has led to misunderstandings about good and bad, right and wrong, praise and blame, order and chaos, beauty and ugliness, and so on. However, this isn’t the place to explore these misconceptions in depth from the nature of the human mind; it will suffice to start with what should be universally acknowledged: that all people are born ignorant of the causes of things, that everyone has a desire to seek out what benefits them, and that they are aware of this desire. From this, it follows that people believe they are free because they are conscious of their volitions and desires, without even considering the causes that have led them to wish and desire in that way. Secondly, people do everything for a purpose, specifically for what is useful to them, which they actively seek. So, they only ask about the final causes of events, and when they discover these, they feel satisfied, having no reason for further doubt. If they can’t find these causes from outside sources, they are forced to reflect on themselves and consider what purpose could have motivated them personally to cause the event, and thus they inevitably judge other beings by their own standards. Additionally, as they find many resources both within themselves and in the world that help them seek out what is useful—such as eyes for seeing, teeth for chewing, plants and animals for food, the sun for light, the sea for fish, etc.—they start to see all of nature as a tool for obtaining these conveniences. Aware that these conveniences were found and not made by them, they believe that some other being must have created them for their benefit. Since they view things as tools, they cannot believe that they came into being on their own; instead, based on the means they create for themselves, they have to believe in a ruler or rulers of the universe with human-like freedom who arranged everything for human purposes. They have to assess the nature of such rulers (with no information on the matter) based on their own nature and consequently claim that the gods designed everything for the use of man in order to bind man to them and gain the highest honor from him. As a result, everyone came up with different ways of worshipping God, hoping that God would favor them more than others and adjust nature to satisfy their blind greed and insatiable desire. Thus, this bias morphed into superstition and took a strong hold in the human mind; and for this reason, everyone desperately tried to understand and explain the final causes of things. However, in their efforts to prove that nature does nothing without purpose—that is, nothing useless to humans—they only seem to demonstrate that nature, the gods, and humans are all crazy together. Look at the outcome: among the many gifts of nature, they were bound to encounter obstacles, like storms, earthquakes, diseases, etc., and so they claimed that such events occur because the gods are angry over some wrong done to them by humans or some fault made in their worship. Daily experience repeatedly proved, through countless examples, that both good and bad fortune happen to the pious and the impious alike; yet, they would not abandon their deep-seated prejudice, since it was easier for them to categorize such contradictions among other unknown things whose usefulness they didn’t understand, thus maintaining their overall state of ignorance rather than dismantling their entire reasoning and starting over. They therefore established as a principle that God's judgments far exceed human understanding. This doctrine might have been sufficient to keep the truth hidden from humanity forever if mathematics had not provided another standard of truth by examining solely the essence and properties of figures without considering their final causes. There are other reasons (which I won’t discuss here) besides mathematics that could have directed people's thoughts toward these general prejudices and led them to the knowledge of truth.

I have now sufficiently explained my first point. There is no need to show at length, that nature has no particular goal in view, and that final causes are mere human figments. This, I think, is already evident enough, both from the causes and foundations on which I have shown such prejudice to be based, and also from Prop. xvi., and the Corollary of Prop. xxxii., and, in fact, all those propositions in which I have shown, that everything in nature proceeds from a sort of necessity, and with the utmost perfection. However, I will add a few remarks, in order to overthrow this doctrine of a final cause utterly. That which is really a cause it considers as an effect, and vice versâ: it makes that which is by nature first to be last, and that which is highest and most perfect to be most imperfect. Passing over the questions of cause and priority as self—evident, it is plain from Props. xxi., xxii., xxiii. that the effect is most perfect which is produced immediately by God; the effect which requires for its production several intermediate causes is, in that respect, more imperfect. But if those things which were made immediately by God were made to enable him to attain his end, then the things which come after, for the sake of which the first were made, are necessarily the most excellent of all.

I have now adequately explained my first point. There's no need to elaborate that nature doesn’t have a specific goal in mind and that final causes are just human constructs. I think it's already clear, both from the causes and foundations I've discussed that expose this bias, as well as from Prop. xvi., the Corollary of Prop. xxxii., and actually all those propositions where I've shown that everything in nature arises from a sort of necessity and reaches the highest level of perfection. However, I'll add a few comments to completely dismantle this idea of a final cause. What it treats as a cause is actually an effect, and vice versa: it positions what is by nature first as last, and what is highest and most perfect as the most imperfect. Setting aside the questions of cause and priority as obvious, it’s evident from Props. xxi., xxii., xxiii. that the most perfect effect is the one produced directly by God; the effect that requires several intermediate causes for its production is, in that sense, less perfect. But if the things made directly by God were created to help Him reach His goal, then the things that come afterward, for the sake of which the first were made, must necessarily be the most excellent of all.

Further, this doctrine does away with the perfection of God: for, if God acts for an object, he necessarily desires something which he lacks. Certainly, theologians and metaphysicians draw a distinction between the object of want and the object of assimilation; still they confess that God made all things for the sake of himself, not for the sake of creation. They are unable to point to anything prior to creation, except God himself, as an object for which God should act, and are therefore driven to admit (as they clearly must), that God lacked those things for whose attainment he created means, and further that he desired them.

Further, this doctrine eliminates the concept of God's perfection: because if God acts for a purpose, it implies that He desires something He does not have. Certainly, theologians and philosophers make a distinction between what is wanted and what is sought after; still, they acknowledge that God created everything for His own sake, not for the sake of creation. They cannot identify anything prior to creation, except God Himself, as a purpose for which God should act, which leads them to admit (as they clearly have to) that God lacked the things He created means to attain, and consequently, that He desired them.

We must not omit to notice that the followers of this doctrine, anxious to display their talent in assigning final causes, have imported a new method of argument in proof of their theory—namely, a reduction, not to the impossible, but to ignorance; thus showing that they have no other method of exhibiting their doctrine. For example, if a stone falls from a roof on to someone's head, and kills him, they will demonstrate by their new method, that the stone fell in order to kill the man; for, if it had not by God's will fallen with that object, how could so many circumstances (and there are often many concurrent circumstances) have all happened together by chance? Perhaps you will answer that the event is due to the facts that the wind was blowing, and the man was walking that way. "But why," they will insist, "was the wind blowing, and why was the man at that very time walking that way?" If you again answer, that the wind had then sprung up because the sea had begun to be agitated the day before, the weather being previously calm, and that the man had been invited by a friend, they will again insist: "But why was the sea agitated, and why was the man invited at that time?" So they will pursue their questions from cause to cause, till at last you take refuge in the will of God—in other words, the sanctuary of ignorance. So, again, when they survey the frame of the human body, they are amazed; and being ignorant of the causes of so great a work of art, conclude that it has been fashioned, not mechanically, but by divine and supernatural skill, and has been so put together that one part shall not hurt another.

We shouldn't overlook the fact that the proponents of this theory, eager to showcase their ability to determine ultimate reasons, have introduced a new method of reasoning to support their ideas—specifically, reducing everything to ignorance instead of impossibility; this shows they have no other way to explain their doctrine. For instance, if a stone falls from a roof onto someone’s head and kills them, they will argue using this new approach that the stone fell to kill the person; because if it hadn’t fallen with that intention, how could so many factors (and there are usually many factors at play) have all occurred by chance? You might respond that the incident happened because the wind was blowing and the man was walking that way. "But why," they will insist, "was the wind blowing, and why was the man walking that way at that moment?" If you then explain that the wind picked up because the sea had started to get rough the day before when the weather was calm, and that the man was invited by a friend, they will again press: "But why was the sea rough, and why was the man invited at that time?" They will continue questioning the cause of each occurrence until you ultimately concede to the will of God—in other words, you retreat into a space of ignorance. Likewise, when they examine the human body, they are astonished; and since they don’t understand the causes behind such a remarkable creation, they conclude that it must have been designed, not mechanically, but by divine and supernatural skill, and arranged so that one part wouldn’t harm another.

Hence anyone who seeks for the true causes of miracles, and strives to understand natural phenomena as an intelligent being, and not to gaze at them like a fool, is set down and denounced as an impious heretic by those, whom the masses adore as the interpreters of nature and the gods. Such persons know that, with the removal of ignorance, the wonder which forms their only available means for proving and preserving their authority would vanish also. But I now quit this subject, and pass on to my third point.

Hence, anyone who looks for the real reasons behind miracles and tries to understand natural phenomena as a thinking person, instead of staring at them like an idiot, is labeled and condemned as an irreverent heretic by those whom the masses worship as the interpreters of nature and the gods. These individuals understand that, when ignorance is removed, the awe that serves as their only way to prove and maintain their authority would disappear too. But I will now leave this topic and move on to my third point.

After men persuaded themselves, that everything which is created is created for their sake, they were bound to consider as the chief quality in everything that which is most useful to themselves, and to account those things the best of all which have the most beneficial effect on mankind. Further, they were bound to form abstract notions for the explanation of the nature of things, such as goodness, badness, order, confusion, warmth, cold, beauty, deformity, and so on; and from the belief that they are free agents arose the further notions of praise and blame, sin and merit.

After people convinced themselves that everything created exists for their benefit, they had to view the most useful qualities in everything as the most important, considering those things to be the best that have the most positive impact on humanity. Additionally, they were obliged to develop abstract ideas to explain the nature of things, like goodness, badness, order, chaos, warmth, cold, beauty, ugliness, and so on; and from the belief in their freedom to choose came the further concepts of praise and blame, sin and virtue.

I will speak of these latter hereafter, when I treat of human nature; the former I will briefly explain here.

I will discuss the latter later when I talk about human nature; the former I will briefly explain here.

Everything which conduces to health and the worship of God they have called good, everything which hinders these objects they have styled bad; and inasmuch as those who do not understand the nature of things do not verify phenomena in any way, but merely imagine them after a fashion, and mistake their imagination for understanding, such persons firmly believe that there is an order in things, being really ignorant both of things and their own nature. When phenomena are of such a kind, that the impression they make on our senses requires little effort of imagination, and can consequently be easily remembered, we say that they are well—ordered; if the contrary, that they are ill—ordered or confused. Further, as things which are easily imagined are more pleasing to us, men prefer order to confusion—as though there were any order in nature, except in relation to our imagination—and say that God has created all things in order; thus, without knowing it, attributing imagination to God, unless, indeed, they would have it that God foresaw human imagination, and arranged everything, so that it should be most easily imagined. If this be their theory, they would not, perhaps, be daunted by the fact that we find an infinite number of phenomena, far surpassing our imagination, and very many others which confound its weakness. But enough has been said on this subject. The other abstract notions are nothing but modes of imagining, in which the imagination is differently affected: though they are considered by the ignorant as the chief attributes of things, inasmuch as they believe that everything was created for the sake of themselves; and, according as they are affected by it, style it good or bad, healthy or rotten and corrupt. For instance, if the motion which objects we see communicate to our nerves be conducive to health, the objects causing it are styled beautiful; if a contrary motion be excited, they are styled ugly.

Everything that promotes health and the worship of God is considered good, while everything that obstructs these goals is regarded as bad. Those who don’t grasp the true nature of things fail to verify phenomena; they merely imagine them in a certain way and mistake that imagination for understanding. These individuals genuinely believe there is an order to things, remaining ignorant of both the things themselves and their own nature. When phenomena are such that they leave little to the imagination and can be easily remembered, we call them well-ordered; if the opposite is true, we label them ill-ordered or chaotic. Moreover, since things that are easily imagined are more appealing to us, people tend to prefer order over chaos—as if there’s any real order in nature other than what relates to our imagination—and claim that God created everything in order. This inadvertently attributes imagination to God, unless they mean that God anticipated human imagination and arranged everything for it to be easily conceived. If this is their belief, they might not be deterred by the countless phenomena that far exceed our imagination and many others that overwhelm its limitations. But enough has been said on this topic. The other abstract ideas are merely different ways of imagining, where imagination is affected differently. The uninformed view these as the main characteristics of things, believing everything was created for their own sake; they label the outcomes as good or bad, healthy or rotten based on their feelings about them. For example, if the movement communicated by the objects we see benefits our health, those objects are called beautiful; if the movement is detrimental, they are called ugly.

Things which are perceived through our sense of smell are styled fragrant or fetid; if through our taste, sweet or bitter, full—flavored or insipid; if through our touch, hard or soft, rough or smooth, &c.

Things we smell are called fragrant or foul; if we taste them, they're sweet or bitter, full-flavored or bland; if we touch them, they're hard or soft, rough or smooth, etc.

Whatsoever affects our ears is said to give rise to noise, sound, or harmony. In this last case, there are men lunatic enough to believe, that even God himself takes pleasure in harmony; and philosophers are not lacking who have persuaded themselves, that the motion of the heavenly bodies gives rise to harmony—all of which instances sufficiently show that everyone judges of things according to the state of his brain, or rather mistakes for things the forms of his imagination. We need no longer wonder that there have arisen all the controversies we have witnessed, and finally skepticism: for, although human bodies in many respects agree, yet in very many others they differ; so that what seems good to one seems bad to another; what seems well ordered to one seems confused to another; what is pleasing to one displeases another, and so on. I need not further enumerate, because this is not the place to treat the subject at length, and also because the fact is sufficiently well known. It is commonly said: "So many men, so many minds; everyone is wise in his own way; brains differ as completely as palates." All of which proverbs show, that men judge of things according to their mental disposition, and rather imagine than understand: for, if they understood phenomena, they would, as mathematicians attest, be convinced, if not attracted, by what I have urged.

Whatever affects our ears is considered to create noise, sound, or harmony. In the case of harmony, there are people who are crazy enough to believe that even God enjoys harmony; and there are philosophers who have convinced themselves that the movement of the celestial bodies creates harmony—all of which examples clearly show that everyone perceives things based on the state of their mind, or rather mistakes their imagination for reality. We should not be surprised that all the debates we've seen have led to skepticism: for, although human bodies share many similarities, they also differ significantly; so what seems good to one person may seem bad to another; what appears orderly to one person may seem chaotic to another; what is enjoyable to one may be unpleasant to another, and so forth. I won't elaborate further, as this isn't the right time to discuss the topic in detail, and it's also widely recognized. It is often said: "So many people, so many opinions; everyone is wise in their own way; minds differ as much as tastes." All these sayings illustrate that people judge things based on their mental state and tend to imagine rather than understand: because if they truly understood the phenomena, they would, as mathematicians explain, be convinced, if not drawn to the points I have made.

We have now perceived, that all the explanations commonly given of nature are mere modes of imagining, and do not indicate the true nature of anything, but only the constitution of the imagination; and, although they have names, as though they were entities, existing externally to the imagination, I call them entities imaginary rather than real; and, therefore, all arguments against us drawn from such abstractions are easily rebutted.

We now realize that all the explanations usually given about nature are just ways of imagining things and don’t reflect the true nature of anything, but only the way we think; and even though they have names as if they were actual things that exist outside our imagination, I refer to them as imaginary entities rather than real ones; therefore, any arguments against us based on these abstractions can be easily countered.

Many argue in this way. If all things follow from a necessity of the absolutely perfect nature of God, why are there so many imperfections in nature? such, for instance, as things corrupt to the point of putridity, loathsome deformity, confusion, evil, sin, &c. But these reasoners are, as I have said, easily confuted, for the perfection of things is to be reckoned only from their own nature and power; things are not more or less perfect, according as they delight or offend human senses, or according as they are serviceable or repugnant to mankind. To those who ask why God did not so create all men, that they should be governed only by reason, I give no answer but this: because matter was not lacking to him for the creation of every degree of perfection from highest to lowest; or, more strictly, because the laws of his nature are so vast, as to suffice for the production of everything conceivable by an infinite intelligence, as I have shown in Prop. xvi.

Many people argue like this. If everything comes from the necessity of God's absolutely perfect nature, why are there so many imperfections in nature? For example, things can decay to the point of rot, have disgusting deformities, create confusion, and cause evil and sin, etc. However, these thinkers are, as I said, easily refuted, because the perfection of things should be assessed based on their own nature and capability; things aren't more or less perfect just because they please or offend human senses, or because they are helpful or harmful to humanity. To those who ask why God didn’t create all people to be governed purely by reason, I offer no answer except this: because he had no shortage of material to create every level of perfection from the highest to the lowest; or, more strictly, because the laws of his nature are so extensive that they can account for the creation of everything imaginable by an infinite intelligence, as I have demonstrated in Prop. xvi.

Such are the misconceptions I have undertaken to note; if there are any more of the same sort, everyone may easily dissipate them for himself with the aid of a little reflection.

Such are the misunderstandings I have decided to point out; if there are any more like them, anyone can easily clear them up for themselves with a bit of thought.




PART II.

ON THE NATURE AND ORIGIN OF THE MIND


PREFACE

I now pass on to explaining the results, which must necessarily follow from the essence of God, or of the eternal and infinite being; not, indeed, all of them (for we proved in Part i., Prop. xvi., that an infinite number must follow in an infinite number of ways), but only those which are able to lead us, as it were by the hand, to the knowledge of the human mind and its highest blessedness.

I will now explain the results that must necessarily come from the essence of God, or the eternal and infinite being; not all of them (because we showed in Part i., Prop. xvi., that an infinite number must follow in an infinite number of ways), but only those that can guide us, so to speak, to a better understanding of the human mind and its greatest happiness.


DEFINITIONS

DEFINITION I. By body I mean a mode which expresses in a certain determinate manner the essence of God, in so far as he is considered as an extended thing. (See Pt. i., Prop. xxv., Coroll.)

DEFINITION I. By body, I mean a way that expresses the essence of God in a specific way, as he is seen as something with physical dimensions. (See Pt. i., Prop. xxv., Coroll.)

DEFINITION II. I consider as belonging to the essence of a thing that, which being given, the thing is necessarily given also, and, which being removed, the thing is necessarily removed also; in other words, that without which the thing, and which itself without the thing, can neither be nor be conceived.

DEFINITION II. I see as essential to a thing what, when present, ensures that the thing exists, and what, when absent, guarantees that the thing does not exist; in other words, that without which the thing cannot be, and which itself cannot exist without the thing.

DEFINITION III. By idea, I mean the mental conception which is formed by the mind as a thinking thing.

DEFINITION III. By idea, I mean the mental concept created by the mind as a thinking being.

Explanation.—I say conception rather than perception, because the word perception seems to imply that the mind is passive in respect to the object; whereas conception seems to express an activity of the mind.

Explanation.—I use the term conception instead of perception because perception suggests that the mind is passive regarding the object; however, conception indicates that the mind is actively engaged.

DEFINITION IV. By an adequate idea, I mean an idea which, in so far as it is considered in itself, without relation to the object, has all the properties or intrinsic marks of a true idea.

DEFINITION IV. By an adequate idea, I mean an idea that, when considered on its own, without reference to the object, includes all the qualities or essential characteristics of a true idea.

Explanation.—I say intrinsic, in order to exclude that mark which is extrinsic, namely, the agreement between the idea and its object (ideatum).

Explanation.—I use the term intrinsic to exclude that mark which is extrinsic, specifically, the agreement between the idea and its object (ideatum).

DEFINITION V. Duration is the indefinite continuance of existing.

DEFINITION V. Duration is the endless continuation of existence.

Explanation.—I say indefinite, because it cannot be determined through the existence itself of the existing thing, or by its efficient cause, which necessarily gives the existence of the thing, but does not take it away.

Explanation.—I say indefinite because it can't be determined by the existence of the thing itself or by its efficient cause, which necessarily brings that thing into existence but does not take it away.

DEFINITION VI. Reality and perfection I use as synonymous terms.

DEFINITION VI. Reality and perfection are terms I use interchangeably.

DEFINITION VII. By particular things, I mean things which are finite and have a conditioned existence; but if several individual things concur in one action, so as to be all simultaneously the effect of one cause, I consider them all, so far, as one particular thing.

DEFINITION VII. By particular things, I mean things that are finite and have a specific existence; but if multiple individual things come together in one action and are all simultaneously affected by one cause, I consider them all, in that sense, as one particular thing.


AXIOMS

I. The essence of man does not involve necessary existence, that is, it may, in the order of nature, come to pass that this or that man does or does not exist.

I. The essence of man doesn't require necessary existence; that is, it's possible, in the natural order, for this or that person to exist or not exist.

II. Man thinks.

II. Man thinks.

III. Modes of thinking, such as love, desire, or any other of the passions, do not take place, unless there be in the same individual an idea of the thing loved, desired, &c. But the idea can exist without the presence of any other mode of thinking.

III. Ways of thinking, like love, desire, or any other emotions, don’t happen unless the person has an idea of what they love or desire. But the idea can exist without needing any other way of thinking to be present.

IV. We perceive that a certain body is affected in many ways.

IV. We realize that a particular thing can be affected in many ways.

V. We feel and perceive no particular things, save bodies and modes of thought.

V. We only feel and perceive specific things, like physical objects and ways of thinking.

N.B. The Postulates are given after the conclusion of Prop. xiii.

N.B. The Postulates are provided after the end of Prop. xiii.


PROPOSITIONS

PROP. I. Thought is an attribute of God, or God is a thinking thing.

PROP. I. Thought is a characteristic of God, or God is a thinking being.

Proof.—Particular thoughts, or this and that thought, are modes which, in a certain conditioned manner, express the nature of God (Pt. i., Prop. xxv., Coroll.). God therefore possesses the attribute (Pt. i., Def. v.) of which the concept is involved in all particular thoughts, which latter are conceived thereby. Thought, therefore, is one of the infinite attributes of God, which express God's eternal and infinite essence (Pt. i., Def. vi.). In other words, God is a thinking thing. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Specific thoughts, or this thought and that thought, are ways that, in a certain conditioned manner, express the nature of God (Pt. i., Prop. xxv., Coroll.). Therefore, God has the attribute (Pt. i., Def. v.) from which the concept is derived in all specific thoughts, which are conceived through it. Thought, then, is one of God's infinite attributes, expressing God's eternal and infinite essence (Pt. i., Def. vi.). In other words, God is a thinking being. Q.E.D.

Note.—This proposition is also evident from the fact, that we are able to conceive an infinite thinking being. For, in proportion as a thinking being is conceived as thinking more thoughts, so is it conceived as containing more reality or perfection. Therefore a being, which can think an infinite number of things in an infinite number of ways, is, necessarily, in respect of thinking, infinite. As, therefore, from the consideration of thought alone, we conceive an infinite being, thought is necessarily (Pt. i., Deff. iv. and vi.) one of the infinite attributes of God, as we were desirous of showing.

Note.—This idea is also clear from the fact that we can imagine an infinite thinking being. The more we think of a being that can have thoughts, the more we see it as having greater reality or perfection. Therefore, a being that can think of an infinite number of things in infinite ways is, by necessity, infinite in its thinking. Thus, from the perspective of thought alone, we can conceive of an infinite being; thought is necessarily (Pt. i., Deff. iv. and vi.) one of the infinite attributes of God, as we aimed to demonstrate.

PROP. II. Extension is an attribute of God, or God is an extended thing.

PROP. II. Extension is a characteristic of God, or God is something that has extension.

Proof.—The proof of this proposition is similar to that of the last.

Proof.—The proof of this proposition is similar to that of the previous one.

PROP. III. In God there is necessarily the idea not only of his essence, but also of all things which necessarily follow from his essence.

PROP. III. In God, there is inherently the idea not just of his essence, but also of everything that necessarily comes from his essence.

Proof.—God (by the first Prop. of this Part) can think an infinite number of things in infinite ways, or (what is the same thing, by Prop. xvi., Part i.) can form the idea of his essence, and of all things which necessarily follow therefrom. Now all that is in the power of God necessarily is (Pt. i., Prop. xxxv.). Therefore, such an idea as we are considering necessarily is, and in God alone. Q.E.D. (Part i., Prop. xv.)

Proof.—God (as shown in the first proposition of this part) can think of an infinite number of things in infinite ways, or (which is the same thing, by Proposition 16, Part 1) can form the idea of His essence and of all things that necessarily follow from it. Now, everything that is within God's power necessarily exists (Part 1, Proposition 35). Therefore, such an idea as we are considering necessarily exists, and it exists only in God. Q.E.D. (Part 1, Proposition 15)

Note.—The multitude understand by the power of God the free will of God, and the right over all things that exist, which latter are accordingly generally considered as contingent. For it is said that God has the power to destroy all things, and to reduce them to nothing. Further, the power of God is very often likened to the power of kings. But this doctrine we have refuted (Pt. i., Prop. xxxii., Corolls. i. and ii.), and we have shown (Part i., Prop. xvi.) that God acts by the same necessity, as that by which he understands himself; in other words, as it follows from the necessity of the divine nature (as all admit), that God understands himself, so also does it follow by the same necessity, that God performs infinite acts in infinite ways. We further showed (Part i., Prop. xxxiv.), that God's power is identical with God's essence in action; therefore it is as impossible for us to conceive God as not acting, as to conceive him as non—existent. If we might pursue the subject further, I could point out, that the power which is commonly attributed to God is not only human (as showing that God is conceived by the multitude as a man, or in the likeness of a man), but involves a negation of power. However, I am unwilling to go over the same ground so often. I would only beg the reader again and again, to turn over frequently in his mind what I have said in Part I from Prop. xvi. to the end. No one will be able to follow my meaning, unless he is scrupulously careful not to confound the power of God with the human power and right of kings.

Note.—Many people understand the power of God as His free will and His authority over everything that exists, which is generally viewed as contingent. It is said that God can destroy everything and bring it to nothing. Additionally, God's power is often compared to the power of kings. However, we have already disproved this idea (Pt. i., Prop. xxxii., Corolls. i. and ii.), and we have demonstrated (Part i., Prop. xvi.) that God acts out of the same necessity as that by which He understands Himself; in other words, just as it necessarily follows from the divine nature (which everyone acknowledges) that God understands Himself, it also necessarily follows that God performs infinite actions in infinite ways. We also showed (Part i., Prop. xxxiv.) that God's power is the same as God's essence in action; therefore, it is just as impossible for us to conceive of God as not acting as it is to conceive of Him as not existing. If I were to elaborate further, I could point out that the power commonly attributed to God is not only human (as it suggests that people envision God as a man, or in human form), but it also implies a denial of true power. However, I prefer not to go over the same points repeatedly. I urge the reader to frequently reflect on what I have stated in Part I from Prop. xvi. to the end. No one will grasp my meaning unless they are very careful not to confuse the power of God with the human power and rights of kings.

PROP. IV. The idea of God, from which an infinite number of things follow in infinite ways, can only be one.

PROP. IV. The concept of God, which leads to countless things in countless ways, can only be one.

Proof.—Infinite intellect comprehends nothing save the attributes of God and his modifications (Part i., Prop. xxx.). Now God is one (Part i., Prop. xiv., Coroll.). Therefore the idea of God, wherefrom an infinite number of things follow in infinite ways, can only be one. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Infinite intellect understands nothing except the attributes of God and their variations (Part i., Prop. xxx.). Now God is one (Part i., Prop. xiv., Coroll.). Therefore, the concept of God, from which an infinite number of things arise in infinite ways, can only be one. Q.E.D.

PROP. V. The actual being of ideas owns God as its cause, only in so far as he is considered as a thinking thing, not in so far as he is unfolded in any other attribute; that is, the ideas both of the attributes of God and of particular things do not own as their efficient cause their objects (ideata) or the things perceived, but God himself in so far as he is a thinking thing.

PROP. V. The actual existence of ideas has God as its cause, but only when he is viewed as a thinking being, not when he is considered in any other way; in other words, the ideas of both the attributes of God and individual things do not take their objects (ideata) or the things perceived as their direct cause, but rather God himself as a thinking being.

Proof.—This proposition is evident from Prop. iii. of this Part. We there drew the conclusion, that God can form the idea of his essence, and of all things which follow necessarily therefrom, solely because he is a thinking thing, and not because he is the object of his own idea. Wherefore the actual being of ideas owns for cause God, in so far as he is a thinking thing. It may be differently proved as follows: the actual being of ideas is (obviously) a mode of thought, that is (Part i., Prop. xxv., Coroll.) a mode which expresses in a certain manner the nature of God, in so far as he is a thinking thing, and therefore (Part i., Prop. x.) involves the conception of no other attribute of God, and consequently (by Part i., Ax. iv.) is not the effect of any attribute save thought. Therefore the actual being of ideas owns God as its cause, in so far as he is considered as a thinking thing, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—This statement is clear from Prop. iii. of this Part. We previously concluded that God can conceive of His essence and all things that necessarily follow from it, simply because He is a thinking being, not because He is the subject of His own idea. Therefore, the actual existence of ideas is caused by God, in so far as He is a thinking being. It can also be proven differently: the actual existence of ideas is obviously a mode of thought, which is (Part i., Prop. xxv., Coroll.) a mode that expresses God’s nature in a specific way, in so far as He is a thinking being, and therefore (Part i., Prop. x.) does not involve the conception of any other attribute of God, and consequently (by Part i., Ax. iv.) is not the effect of any attribute other than thought. Therefore, the actual existence of ideas acknowledges God as its cause, in so far as He is regarded as a thinking being, etc. Q.E.D.

PROP. VI. The modes of any given attribute are caused by God, in so far as he is considered through the attribute of which they are modes, and not in so far as he is considered through any other attribute.

PROP. VI. The ways that any specific attribute expresses itself are determined by God, as he is understood through the attribute that these modes represent, and not as he is understood through any other attribute.

Proof.—Each attribute is conceived through itself, without any other (Part i., Prop. x.); wherefore the modes of each attribute involve the conception of that attribute, but not of any other. Thus (Part i., Ax. iv.) they are caused by God, only in so far as he is considered through the attribute whose modes they are, and not in so far as he is considered through any other. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Each attribute is understood on its own, without any reference to others (Part i., Prop. x.); therefore, the forms of each attribute reflect the understanding of that attribute alone, and not any other. Thus (Part i., Ax. iv.) they are caused by God, only as he is viewed through the attribute of which they are the forms, and not as he is viewed through any other. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Hence the actual being of things, which are not modes of thought, does not follow from the divine nature, because that nature has prior knowledge of the things. Things represented in ideas follow, and are derived from their particular attribute, in the same manner, and with the same necessity as ideas follow (according to what we have shown) from the attribute of thought.

Corollary.—Therefore, the actual existence of things that are not modes of thought does not depend on the divine nature, since that nature has prior knowledge of those things. Things represented in ideas come from their specific attribute in the same way and with the same necessity that ideas arise (as we have demonstrated) from the attribute of thought.

PROP. VII. The order and connection of ideas is the same as the order and connection of things.

PROP. VII. The sequence and relationship of ideas is the same as the sequence and relationship of things.

Proof.—This proposition is evident from Part i., Ax. iv. For the idea of everything that is caused depends on a knowledge of the cause, whereof it is an effect.

Proof.—This statement is clear from Part i., Ax. iv. The concept of anything that is caused relies on understanding the cause from which it arises.

Corollary.—Hence God's power of thinking is equal to his realized power of action—that is, whatsoever follows from the infinite nature of God in the world of extension (formaliter), follows without exception in the same order and connection from the idea of God in the world of thought (objective).

Corollary.—So, God's ability to think is the same as his actual ability to act—that is, whatever results from God's infinite nature in the physical world (formally) also results, without exception, in the same order and connection from the idea of God in the realm of thought (objectively).

Note.—Before going any further, I wish to recall to mind what has been pointed out above—namely, that whatsoever can be perceived by the infinite intellect as constituting the essence of substance, belongs altogether only to one substance: consequently, substance thinking and substance extended are one and the same substance, comprehended now through one attribute, now through the other. So, also, a mode of extension and the idea of that mode are one and the same thing, though expressed in two ways. This truth seems to have been dimly recognized by those Jews who maintained that God, God's intellect, and the things understood by God are identical. For instance, a circle existing in nature, and the idea of a circle existing, which is also in God, are one and the same thing displayed through different attributes. Thus, whether we conceive nature under the attribute of extension, or under the attribute of thought, or under any other attribute, we shall find the same order, or one and the same chain of causes—that is, the same things following in either case.

Note.—Before proceeding further, I want to remind you of what was mentioned earlier—specifically, that everything that can be perceived by the infinite intellect as part of the essence of substance belongs entirely to one substance: therefore, thinking substance and extended substance are one and the same substance, understood at one moment through one attribute and at another through a different attribute. Similarly, a mode of extension and the concept of that mode are one and the same thing, even though they are expressed in two different ways. This truth seems to have been vaguely acknowledged by those Jews who claimed that God, God’s intellect, and the things understood by God are identical. For example, a circle that exists in nature and the idea of a circle that exists, which is also in God, are the same thing represented through different attributes. Thus, whether we see nature through the attribute of extension, the attribute of thought, or any other attribute, we will find the same order, or one and the same chain of causes—that is, the same things occurring in either case.

I said that God is the cause of an idea—for instance, of the idea of a circle,—in so far as he is a thinking thing; and of a circle, in so far as he is an extended thing, simply because the actual being of the idea of a circle can only be perceived as a proximate cause through another mode of thinking, and that again through another, and so on to infinity; so that, so long as we consider things as modes of thinking, we must explain the order of the whole of nature, or the whole chain of causes, through the attribute of thought only. And, in so far as we consider things as modes of extension, we must explain the order of the whole of nature through the attributes of extension only; and so on, in the case of the other attributes. Wherefore of things as they are in themselves God is really the cause, inasmuch as he consists of infinite attributes. I cannot for the present explain my meaning more clearly.

I stated that God is the source of an idea—for example, the idea of a circle—because He is a thinking being; and of a circle, as He is an extended being, simply because the actual existence of the idea of a circle can only be understood as a proximate cause through another way of thinking, and that again through another, and so on indefinitely; so that, as long as we view things as modes of thinking, we must explain the order of everything in nature, or the entire chain of causes, through the attribute of thought only. And, to the extent that we look at things as modes of extension, we must explain the order of all of nature through the attributes of extension only; and this applies to the other attributes as well. Therefore, regarding things as they exist in themselves, God is truly the cause since He consists of infinite attributes. I can't explain my point more clearly at the moment.

PROP. VIII. The ideas of particular things, or of modes, that do not exist, must be comprehended in the infinite idea of God, in the same way as the formal essences of particular things or modes are contained in the attributes of God.

PROP. VIII. The ideas of specific things, or modes, that do not exist, must be understood within the infinite idea of God, just as the formal essences of specific things or modes are included in God's attributes.

Proof.—This proposition is evident from the last; it is understood more clearly from the preceding note.

Proof.—This statement is clear from the last one; it's better understood with the previous note.

Corollary.—Hence, so long as particular things do not exist, except in so far as they are comprehended in the attributes of God, their representations in thought or ideas do not exist, except in so far as the infinite idea of God exists; and when particular things are said to exist, not only in so far as they are involved in the attributes of God, but also in so far as they are said to continue, their ideas will also involve existence, through which they are said to continue.

Corollary.—Therefore, as long as specific things only exist in relation to the attributes of God, their representations in thought or ideas only exist as the infinite idea of God exists; and when specific things are said to exist, not only because they are part of the attributes of God, but also in terms of their ongoing existence, their ideas will also imply existence, through which they are considered to continue.

Note.—If anyone desires an example to throw more light on this question, I shall, I fear, not be able to give him any, which adequately explains the thing of which I here speak, inasmuch as it is unique; however, I will endeavour to illustrate it as far as possible. The nature of a circle is such that if any number of straight lines intersect within it, the rectangles formed by their segments will be equal to one another; thus, infinite equal rectangles are contained in a circle. Yet none of these rectangles can be said to exist, except in so far as the circle exists; nor can the idea of any of these rectangles be said to exist, except in so far as they are comprehended in the idea of the circle. Let us grant that, from this infinite number of rectangles, two only exist. The ideas of these two not only exist, in so far as they are contained in the idea of the circle, but also as they involve the existence of those rectangles; wherefore they are distinguished from the remaining ideas of the remaining rectangles.

Note.—If anyone wants an example to clarify this question, I’m afraid I won’t be able to provide one that adequately explains what I’m talking about, since it is unique; however, I will try to illustrate it as much as possible. The nature of a circle is such that if any number of straight lines intersect within it, the rectangles formed by their segments will be equal to each other; thus, an infinite number of equal rectangles are contained in a circle. Yet none of these rectangles can be said to exist, except insofar as the circle exists; nor can the concept of any of these rectangles be said to exist, except as they are understood within the concept of the circle. Let’s assume that, out of this infinite number of rectangles, only two exist. The concepts of these two exist not only because they are contained within the concept of the circle, but also because they imply the existence of those rectangles; therefore, they are distinct from the concepts of the other rectangles.

PROP. IX. The idea of an individual thing actually existing is caused by God, not in so far as he is infinite, but in so far as he is considered as affected by another idea of a thing actually existing, of which he is the cause, in so far as he is affected by a third idea, and so on to infinity.

PROP. IX. The concept of an individual thing that actually exists is caused by God, not in terms of his infinity, but in how he is viewed as influenced by another idea of a thing that exists, of which he is the cause, as he is influenced by a third idea, and this continues infinitely.

Proof.—The idea of an individual thing actually existing is an individual mode of thinking, and is distinct from other modes (by the Corollary and note to Prop. viii. of this part); thus (by Prop. vi. of this part) it is caused by God, in so far only as he is a thinking thing. But not (by Prop. xxviii. of Part i.) in so far as he is a thing thinking absolutely, only in so far as he is considered as affected by another mode of thinking; and he is the cause of this latter, as being affected by a third, and so on to infinity. Now, the order and connection of ideas is (by Prop. vii. of this book) the same as the order and connection of causes. Therefore of a given individual idea another individual idea, or God, in so far as he is considered as modified by that idea, is the cause; and of this second idea God is the cause, in so far as he is affected by another idea, and so on to infinity. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The concept of an individual thing that actually exists is a unique way of thinking and is different from other ways (as noted in the Corollary and note to Prop. viii. of this section); thus (according to Prop. vi. of this section) it is caused by God, as far as he is a thinking being. But not (according to Prop. xxviii. of Part i.) as he is a being that thinks absolutely, only as he is seen as influenced by another way of thinking; and he is the cause of this latter, being influenced by a third, and so forth indefinitely. Now, the order and connection of ideas is (according to Prop. vii. of this book) the same as the order and connection of causes. Therefore, from a given individual idea, another individual idea arises, or God, as far as he is viewed as modified by that idea, is the cause; and of this second idea, God is the cause, as he is influenced by another idea, and so on indefinitely. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Whatsoever takes place in the individual object of any idea, the knowledge thereof is in God, in so far only as he has the idea of the object.

Corollary.—Whatever happens in the individual object of any idea, God's knowledge of it exists only to the extent that He has the idea of the object.

Proof.—Whatsoever takes place in the object of any idea, its idea is in God (by Prop. iii. of this part), not in so far as he is infinite, but in so far as he is considered as affected by another idea of an individual thing (by the last Prop.); but (by Prop. vii. of this part) the order and connection of ideas is the same as the order and connection of things. The knowledge, therefore, of that which takes place in any individual object will be in God, in so far only as he has the idea of that object. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Whatever happens in the object of any idea, that idea exists in God (by Prop. iii. of this part), not as he is infinite, but as he is seen as influenced by another idea of a specific thing (by the last Prop.); but (by Prop. vii. of this part) the order and connection of ideas is the same as the order and connection of things. Therefore, knowledge of what occurs in any individual object will exist in God, only in so far as he has the idea of that object. Q.E.D.

PROP. X. The being of substance does not appertain to the essence of man—in other words, substance does not constitute the actual being[2] of man.

PROP. X. The existence of substance is not part of what defines man's essence—in other words, substance does not make up the true being of man.

[2] "Forma"

"Form"


Proof.—The being of substance involves necessary existence (Part i., Prop. vii.). If, therefore, the being of substance appertains to the essence of man, substance being granted, man would necessarily be granted also (II. Def. ii.), and, consequently, man would necessarily exist, which is absurd (II. Ax. i.). Therefore, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The existence of substance requires necessary existence (Part i., Prop. vii.). If, therefore, the existence of substance pertains to the essence of humanity, then if we accept the existence of substance, humanity must also be accepted (II. Def. ii.), and consequently, humanity would necessarily exist, which is absurd (II. Ax. i.). Therefore, etc. Q.E.D.

Note.—This proposition may also be proved from I.v., in which it is shown that there cannot be two substances of the same nature; for as there may be many men, the being of substance is not that which constitutes the actual being of man. Again, the proposition is evident from the other properties of substance—namely, that substance is in its nature infinite, immutable, indivisible, &c., as anyone may see for himself.

Note.—This statement can also be demonstrated from I.v., where it is shown that there cannot be two substances of the same kind; because while there can be many people, the essence of substance isn’t what defines the actual existence of a person. Additionally, the statement is clear from the other characteristics of substance—specifically, that substance is inherently infinite, unchanging, indivisible, etc., which anyone can observe for themselves.

Corollary.—Hence it follows, that the essence of man is constituted by certain modifications of the attributes of God. For (by the last Prop.) the being of substance does not belong to the essence of man. That essence therefore (by i. 15) is something which is in God, and which without God can neither be nor be conceived, whether it be a modification (i. 25. Coroll.), or a mode which expresses God's nature in a certain conditioned manner.

Corollary.—Therefore, it follows that the essence of humanity is made up of specific modifications of God's attributes. Because (according to the last proposition) the being of substance is not part of humanity's essence. This essence, then (as mentioned in i. 15), is something that exists in God and cannot exist or be imagined without God, whether it is a modification (i. 25. Coroll.) or a mode that expresses God's nature in a specific conditioned way.

Note.—Everyone must surely admit, that nothing can be or be conceived without God. All men agree that God is the one and only cause of all things, both of their essence and of their existence; that is, God is not only the cause of things in respect to their being made (secundum fieri), but also in respect to their being (secundum esse).

Note.—Everyone must surely agree that nothing can exist or be imagined without God. All people acknowledge that God is the sole cause of everything, both of what they are and of their existence; in other words, God is not only the cause of things regarding their creation (secundum fieri), but also in terms of their being (secundum esse).

At the same time many assert, that that, without which a thing cannot be nor be conceived, belongs to the essence of that thing; wherefore they believe that either the nature of God appertains to the essence of created things, or else that created things can be or be conceived without God; or else, as is more probably the case, they hold inconsistent doctrines. I think the cause for such confusion is mainly, that they do not keep to the proper order of philosophic thinking. The nature of God, which should be reflected on first, inasmuch as it is prior both in the order of knowledge and the order of nature, they have taken to be last in the order of knowledge, and have put into the first place what they call the objects of sensation; hence, while they are considering natural phenomena, they give no attention at all to the divine nature, and, when afterwards they apply their mind to the study of the divine nature, they are quite unable to bear in mind the first hypotheses, with which they have overlaid the knowledge of natural phenomena, inasmuch as such hypotheses are no help towards understanding the divine nature. So that it is hardly to be wondered at, that these persons contradict themselves freely.

At the same time, many assert that whatever a thing cannot exist without or be conceived without is essential to that thing; therefore, they believe that either God's nature is part of the essence of created things, or that created things can exist or be conceived without God; or, more likely, they hold contradictory beliefs. I think the main reason for this confusion is that they don't follow the proper order of philosophical thinking. The nature of God, which should be considered first since it comes before both in knowing and in existence, is treated as the last part of knowledge, while what they call sensory objects is placed first. As a result, while they focus on natural phenomena, they pay no attention to the divine nature, and when they later turn their minds to studying the divine, they can't remember the initial ideas they've used to shape their understanding of natural phenomena, since those ideas don't help in understanding the divine nature. It's hardly surprising that these people contradict themselves easily.

However, I pass over this point. My intention her was only to give a reason for not saying, that that, without which a thing cannot be or be conceived, belongs to the essence of that thing: individual things cannot be or be conceived without God, yet God does not appertain to their essence. I said that "I considered as belonging to the essence of a thing that, which being given, the thing is necessarily given also, and which being removed, the thing is necessarily removed also; or that without which the thing, and which itself without the thing can neither be nor be conceived." (II. Def. ii.)

However, I’ll skip over this point. My goal here was just to explain why I don’t say that what a thing cannot be or be conceived without belongs to the essence of that thing: individual things cannot exist or be imagined without God, yet God is not part of their essence. I said that "I consider as belonging to the essence of a thing that which, if it exists, the thing necessarily exists as well, and if it’s removed, the thing is necessarily removed too; or that without which the thing cannot exist, and which itself cannot exist or be imagined without the thing." (II. Def. ii.)

PROP. XI. The first element, which constitutes the actual being of the human mind, is the idea of some particular thing actually existing.

PROP. XI. The first element that makes up the actual existence of the human mind is the idea of a specific thing that is really present.

Proof.—The essence of man (by the Coroll. of the last Prop.) is constituted by certain modes of the attributes of God, namely (by II. Ax. ii.), by the modes of thinking, of all which (by II. Ax. iii.) the idea is prior in nature, and, when the idea is given, the other modes (namely, those of which the idea is prior in nature) must be in the same individual (by the same Axiom). Therefore an idea is the first element constituting the human mind. But not the idea of a non—existent thing, for then (II. viii. Coroll.) the idea itself cannot be said to exist; it must therefore be the idea of something actually existing. But not of an infinite thing. For an infinite thing (I. xxi., xxii.), must always necessarily exist; this would (by II. Ax. i.) involve an absurdity. Therefore the first element, which constitutes the actual being of the human mind, is the idea of something actually existing. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The essence of humanity (according to the Corollary of the last Proposition) is made up of specific ways the attributes of God manifest, specifically (by II. Axiom ii.) through modes of thought. Among these (by II. Axiom iii.), the idea comes first in nature, and when the idea is present, the other modes (which depend on the idea coming first in nature) must exist in the same individual (according to the same Axiom). Therefore, an idea is the foundational element that makes up the human mind. However, it cannot be the idea of something non-existent, because then (II. viii. Corollary) the idea itself cannot be said to exist; it must be the idea of something that actually exists. But it cannot be of an infinite thing. An infinite thing (I. xxi., xxii.) must always necessarily exist, which would (by II. Axiom i.) lead to a contradiction. Thus, the first element that constitutes the actual existence of the human mind is the idea of something that actually exists. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Hence it follows, that the human mind is part of the infinite intellect of God; thus when we say, that the human mind perceives this or that, we make the assertion, that God has this or that idea, not in so far as he is infinite, but in so far as he is displayed through the nature of the human mind, or in so far as he constitutes the essence of the human mind; and when we say that God has this or that idea, not only in so far as he constitutes the essence of the human mind, but also in so far as he, simultaneously with the human mind, has the further idea of another thing, we assert that the human mind perceives a thing in part or inadequately.

Corollary.—Therefore, it follows that the human mind is part of God's infinite intellect. So when we say that the human mind understands this or that, we are claiming that God has this or that idea—not in terms of his infinity, but as he is expressed through the nature of the human mind, or as he forms the essence of the human mind. And when we say that God has this or that idea, not only as he forms the essence of the human mind, but also as he, at the same time as the human mind, has the additional idea of something else, we are asserting that the human mind perceives things partially or inadequately.

Note.—Here, I doubt not, readers will come to a stand, and will call to mind many things which will cause them to hesitate; I therefore beg them to accompany me slowly, step by step, and not to pronounce on my statements, till they have read to the end.

Note.—I’m sure readers will pause here and think of many things that might make them hesitate; so I kindly ask them to follow along with me slowly, step by step, and to hold off on judging my statements until they’ve read everything.

PROP. XII. Whatsoever comes to pass in the object of the idea, which constitutes the human mind, must be perceived by the human mind, or there will necessarily be an idea in the human mind of the said occurrence. That is, if the object of the idea constituting the human mind be a body, nothing can take place in that body without being perceived by the mind.

PROP. XII. Whatever happens in the object of the idea that makes up the human mind must be perceived by the human mind, or there will inevitably be an idea in the human mind about that occurrence. In other words, if the object of the idea that forms the human mind is a body, nothing can happen in that body without being perceived by the mind.

Proof.—Whatsoever comes to pass in the object of any idea, the knowledge thereof is necessarily in God (II. ix. Coroll.), in so far as he is considered as affected by the idea of the said object, that is (II. xi.), in so far as he constitutes the mind of anything. Therefore, whatsoever takes place in the object constituting the idea of the human mind, the knowledge thereof is necessarily in God, in so far as he constitutes the essence of the human mind; that is (by II. xi. Coroll.) the knowledge of the said thing will necessarily be in the mind, in other words the mind perceives it.

Proof.—Whatever happens in the object of any idea, the knowledge of that is necessarily in God (II. ix. Coroll.), as he is viewed as being influenced by the idea of that object, which means (II. xi.) he shapes the mind of anything. Therefore, anything that occurs in the object forming the idea of the human mind is necessarily known by God, as he defines the essence of the human mind; that is (by II. xi. Coroll.) the knowledge of that thing will necessarily be in the mind; in other words, the mind perceives it.

Note.—This proposition is also evident, and is more clearly to be understood from II. vii., which see.

Note.—This idea is also obvious and is better understood by referring to II. vii., which you can check out.

PROP. XIII. The object of the idea constituting the human mind is the body, in other words a certain mode of extension which actually exists, and nothing else.

PROP. XIII. The focus of the idea that makes up the human mind is the body, in other words, a specific form of physical extension that actually exists, and nothing more.

Proof.—If indeed the body were not the object of the human mind, the ideas of the modifications of the body would not be in God (II. ix. Coroll.) in virtue of his constituting our mind, but in virtue of his constituting the mind of something else; that is (II. xi. Coroll.) the ideas of the modifications of the body would not be in our mind: now (by II. Ax. iv.) we do possess the idea of the modifications of the body. Therefore the object of the idea constituting the human mind is the body, and the body as it actually exists (II. xi.). Further, if there were any other object of the idea constituting the mind besides body, then, as nothing can exist from which some effect does not follow (I. xxxvi.) there would necessarily have to be in our mind an idea, which would be the effect of that other object (II. xi.); but (I. Ax. v.) there is no such idea. Wherefore the object of our mind is the body as it exists, and nothing else. Q.E.D.

Proof.—If the body really weren’t the focus of the human mind, then the ideas about the body’s modifications wouldn’t exist in God (II. ix. Coroll.) because He shapes our mind; instead, they would come from the mind of something else. In other words (II. xi. Coroll.), the ideas of the body’s modifications wouldn't be in our mind. However, according to (II. Ax. iv.), we do have the idea of the body’s modifications. Therefore, the object of the idea forming the human mind is the body, specifically as it actually exists (II. xi.). Moreover, if there were any other object of the idea shaping the mind in addition to the body, then, since nothing can exist without producing some effect (I. xxxvi.), our mind would necessarily have to contain an idea that would be the result of that other object (II. xi.); but (I. Ax. v.) there is no such idea. Thus, the object of our mind is the body as it exists, and nothing else. Q.E.D.

Note.—We thus comprehend, not only that the human mind is united to the body, but also the nature of the union between mind and body. However, no one will be able to grasp this adequately or distinctly, unless he first has adequate knowledge of the nature of our body. The propositions we have advanced hitherto have been entirely general, applying not more to men than to other individual things, all of which, though in different degrees, are animated.[3] For of everything there is necessarily an idea in God, of which God is the cause, in the same way as there is an idea of the human body; thus whatever we have asserted of the idea of the human body must necessarily also be asserted of the idea of everything else. Still, on the other hand, we cannot deny that ideas, like objects, differ one from the other, one being more excellent than another and containing more reality, just as the object of one idea is more excellent than the object of another idea, and contains more reality.

Note.—We understand not only that the human mind is connected to the body, but also the nature of that connection. However, no one will fully grasp this unless they first have a clear understanding of the nature of our body. The points we've made so far have been quite general, applying just as much to men as to other individual things, all of which are animated, though in different ways. For everything, there must be a corresponding idea in God, which God causes, just as there is an idea of the human body; therefore, whatever we have stated about the idea of the human body must also be true for the idea of everything else. Still, we cannot ignore that ideas, like objects, differ from one another, with some being more refined than others and possessing more reality, just as the object of one idea is more refined than that of another and contains more reality.

[3] "Animata"

"Animated"


Wherefore, in order to determine, wherein the human mind differs from other things, and wherein it surpasses them, it is necessary for us to know the nature of its object, that is, of the human body. What this nature is, I am not able here to explain, nor is it necessary for the proof of what I advance, that I should do so. I will only say generally, that in proportion as any given body is more fitted than others for doing many actions or receiving many impressions at once, so also is the mind, of which it is the object, more fitted than others for forming many simultaneous perceptions; and the more the actions of the body depend on itself alone, and the fewer other bodies concur with it in action, the more fitted is the mind of which it is the object for distinct comprehension. We may thus recognize the superiority of one mind over others, and may further see the cause, why we have only a very confused knowledge of our body, and also many kindred questions, which I will, in the following propositions, deduce from what has been advanced. Wherefore I have thought it worth while to explain and prove more strictly my present statements. In order to do so, I must premise a few propositions concerning the nature of bodies.

To figure out how the human mind is different from and better than other things, we need to understand the nature of its object, which is the human body. I can't explain what this nature is here, and it's not necessary for supporting my argument. Generally speaking, the better a body is at performing multiple actions or receiving many impressions simultaneously, the more capable the mind connected to it is at forming several simultaneous perceptions. Additionally, the more a body's actions depend solely on itself and the fewer other bodies are involved, the more suited the mind related to that body is for clear understanding. This allows us to recognize why one mind may be superior to others and explains why our understanding of our own body is often so vague, along with other related questions that I will address in the following propositions. Therefore, I believe it's important to clarify and support my current statements more rigorously. To do this, I need to start with a few propositions about the nature of bodies.

AXIOM I. All bodies are either in motion or at rest.

AXIOM I. All objects are either in motion or stationary.

AXIOM II. Every body is moved sometimes more slowly, sometimes more quickly.

AXIOM II. Every body moves sometimes more slowly, sometimes more quickly.

LEMMA I. Bodies are distinguished from one another in respect of motion and rest, quickness and slowness, and not in respect of substance.

LEMMA I. Bodies are distinguished from each other in terms of motion and rest, speed and slowness, and not based on substance.

Proof.—The first part of this proposition is, I take it, self—evident. That bodies are not distinguished in respect of substance, is plain both from I. v. and I. viii. It is brought out still more clearly from I. xv, note.

Proof.—The first part of this proposition is, I believe, obvious. That bodies are not different in terms of substance is clear from I. v. and I. viii. It is made even clearer in I. xv, note.

LEMMA II. All bodies agree in certain respects.

LEMMA II. All bodies share some common characteristics.

Proof.—All bodies agree in the fact, that they involve the conception of one and the same attribute (II., Def. i.). Further, in the fact that they may be moved less or more quickly, and may be absolutely in motion or at rest.

Proof.—All objects agree in the fact that they involve the idea of one and the same attribute (II., Def. i.). Furthermore, they can move either faster or slower, and can be completely in motion or at rest.

LEMMA III. A body in motion or at rest must be determined to motion or rest by another body, which other body has been determined to motion or rest by a third body, and that third again by a fourth, and so on to infinity.

LEMMA III. A body that is moving or at rest must be influenced into motion or rest by another body, which has itself been influenced by a third body, and that third body by a fourth, and this can continue endlessly.

Proof.—Bodies are individual things (II., Def. i.), which (Lemma I.) are distinguished one from the other in respect to motion and rest; thus (I. xxviii.) each must necessarily be determined to motion or rest by another individual thing, namely (II. vi.), by another body, which other body is also (Ax. i.) in motion or at rest. And this body again can only have been set in motion or caused to rest by being determined by a third body to motion or rest. This third body again by a fourth, and so on to infinity. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Bodies are individual entities (II., Def. i.), which (Lemma I.) are distinguished from one another in terms of motion and rest; therefore (I. xxviii.) each must necessarily be set to move or stay still by another individual thing, specifically (II. vi.), by another body, which is also (Ax. i.) in motion or at rest. This body can only have been set in motion or made to rest by being determined by a third body to either move or stay still. This third body in turn by a fourth, and so on indefinitely. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Hence it follows, that a body in motion keeps in motion, until it is determined to a state of rest by some other body; and a body at rest remains so, until it is determined to a state of motion by some other body. This is indeed self—evident. For when I suppose, for instance, that a given body, A, is at rest, and do not take into consideration other bodies in motion, I cannot affirm anything concerning the body A, except that it is at rest. If it afterwards comes to pass that A is in motion, this cannot have resulted from its having been at rest, for no other consequence could have been involved than its remaining at rest. If, on the other hand, A be given in motion, we shall, so long as we only consider A, be unable to affirm anything concerning it, except that it is in motion. If A is subsequently found to be at rest, this rest cannot be the result of A's previous motion, for such motion can only have led to continued motion; the state of rest therefore must have resulted from something, which was not in A, namely, from an external cause determining A to a state of rest.

Corollary.—So, it follows that a moving object stays in motion until it's made to stop by another object; and a stationary object stays still until it's made to move by another object. This is pretty obvious. For example, if I imagine that a particular object, A, is at rest and don't consider any other moving objects, I can't say anything about object A except that it is at rest. If later A ends up moving, that doesn't mean it came from being at rest, since the only possible outcome of being at rest would be to stay at rest. On the other hand, if A is said to be in motion, as long as we're only looking at A, we can only say that it is moving. If A is later found to be at rest, that rest can't be because A was previously in motion, because that motion could only lead to continued motion; therefore, the state of rest must have come from something outside of A, specifically an external force that caused A to stop moving.

Axiom I.—All modes, wherein one body is affected by another body, follow simultaneously from the nature of the body affected and the body affecting; so that one and the same body may be moved in different modes, according to the difference in the nature of the bodies moving it; on the other hand, different bodies may be moved in different modes by one and the same body.

Axiom I.—All ways in which one object influences another arise at the same time from the characteristics of the influenced object and the influencing object; thus, a single object can be moved in various ways depending on the nature of the objects that are moving it; conversely, different objects can be moved in various ways by the same object.

Axiom II.—When a body in motion impinges on another body at rest, which it is unable to move, it recoils, in order to continue its motion, and the angle made by the line of motion in the recoil and the plane of the body at rest, whereon the moving body has impinged, will be equal to the angle formed by the line of motion of incidence and the same plane.

Axiom II.—When a moving body hits a stationary body that it cannot move, it bounces back to keep moving, and the angle between the line of motion during the bounce and the surface of the stationary body it hit will be equal to the angle between the line of motion before the impact and that same surface.

So far we have been speaking only of the most simple bodies, which are only distinguished one from the other by motion and rest, quickness and slowness. We now pass on to compound bodies.

So far, we've only talked about the simplest objects, which are distinguished from each other by movement and stillness, speed and slowness. Now, we'll move on to more complex objects.

Definition.—When any given bodies of the same or different magnitude are compelled by other bodies to remain in contact, or if they be moved at the same or different rates of speed, so that their mutual movements should preserve among themselves a certain fixed relation, we say that such bodies are in union, and that together they compose one body or individual, which is distinguished from other bodies by the fact of this union.

Definition.—When any set of bodies, whether they're the same or different sizes, are forced by other bodies to stay in touch, or if they're moved at the same or different speeds in a way that maintains a certain fixed relationship between them, we say that these bodies are in union, and that together they form one body or individual, which is recognized as distinct from other bodies due to this union.

Axiom III.—In proportion as the parts of an individual, or a compound body, are in contact over a greater or less superficies, they will with greater or less difficulty admit of being moved from their position; consequently the individual will, with greater or less difficulty, be brought to assume another form. Those bodies, whose parts are in contact over large superficies, are called hard; those, whose parts are in contact over small superficies, are called soft; those, whose parts are in motion among one another, are called fluid.

Axiom III.—As the parts of an individual or a compound body are in contact over a larger or smaller surface area, they will be more or less difficult to move from their position; therefore, the individual will also be more or less difficult to change into another form. Bodies with parts in contact over large surface areas are called hard; those with parts in contact over small surface areas are called soft; and those with parts in motion with each other are called fluid.

LEMMA IV. If from a body or individual, compounded of several bodies, certain bodies be separated, and if, at the same time, an equal number of other bodies of the same nature take their place, the individual will preserve its nature as before, without any change in its actuality (forma).

LEMMA IV. If from a body or individual, made up of several bodies, certain bodies are separated, and at the same time, an equal number of other bodies of the same kind take their place, the individual will maintain its nature as before, without any change in its actuality (forma).

Proof.—Bodies (Lemma i.) are not distinguished in respect of substance: that which constitutes the actuality (formam) of an individual consists (by the last Def.) in a union of bodies; but this union, although there is a continual change of bodies, will (by our hypothesis) be maintained; the individual, therefore, will retain its nature as before, both in respect of substance and in respect of mode. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Bodies (Lemma i.) are the same in terms of substance: what makes up the reality (form) of an individual is a combination of bodies; however, this combination, despite the constant change of bodies, will (according to our assumption) be preserved; therefore, the individual will keep its nature as before, both in terms of substance and in terms of manner. Q.E.D.

LEMMA V. If the parts composing an individual become greater or less, but in such proportion, that they all preserve the same mutual relations of motion and rest, the individual will still preserve its original nature, and its actuality will not be changed.

LEMMA V. If the parts that make up an individual increase or decrease but maintain the same relationships of movement and stillness, the individual will still keep its original nature, and its reality will remain unchanged.

Proof.—The same as for the last Lemma.

Proof.—The same as for the last Lemma.

LEMMA VI. If certain bodies composing an individual be compelled to change the motion, which they have in one direction, for motion in another direction, but in such a manner, that they be able to continue their motions and their mutual communication in the same relations as before, the individual will retain its own nature without any change of its actuality.

LEMMA VI. If certain parts of an individual are forced to switch their motion from one direction to another, but in such a way that they can still maintain their movements and interactions in the same way as before, the individual will keep its nature intact without any change in its reality.

Proof.—This proposition is self—evident, for the individual is supposed to retain all that, which, in its definition, we spoke of as its actual being.

Proof.—This statement is obvious, because the individual is assumed to keep everything that, in its definition, we referred to as its actual existence.

LEMMA VII. Furthermore, the individual thus composed preserves its nature, whether it be, as a whole, in motion or at rest, whether it be moved in this or that direction; so long as each part retains its motion, and preserves its communication with other parts as before.

LEMMA VII. Furthermore, the individual that's composed this way keeps its nature, whether it's in motion or at rest, whether it's moving in one direction or another; as long as each part maintains its motion and keeps its connection with the other parts like before.

Proof.—This proposition is evident from the definition of an individual prefixed to Lemma iv.

Proof.—This statement is clear from the definition of an individual provided before Lemma iv.

Note.—We thus see, how a composite individual may be affected in many different ways, and preserve its nature notwithstanding. Thus far we have conceived an individual as composed of bodies only distinguished one from the other in respect of motion and rest, speed and slowness; that is, of bodies of the most simple character. If, however, we now conceive another individual composed of several individuals of diverse natures, we shall find that the number of ways in which it can be affected, without losing its nature, will be greatly multiplied. Each of its parts would consist of several bodies, and therefore (by Lemma vi.) each part would admit, without change to its nature, of quicker or slower motion, and would consequently be able to transmit its motions more quickly or more slowly to the remaining parts. If we further conceive a third kind of individuals composed of individuals of this second kind, we shall find that they may be affected in a still greater number of ways without changing their actuality. We may easily proceed thus to infinity, and conceive the whole of nature as one individual, whose parts, that is, all bodies, vary in infinite ways, without any change in the individual as a whole. I should feel bound to explain and demonstrate this point at more length, if I were writing a special treatise on body. But I have already said that such is not my object; I have only touched on the question, because it enables me to prove easily that which I have in view.

Note.—We can see how a composite individual can be influenced in many different ways while still maintaining its essence. So far, we've thought of an individual as made up of bodies that differ only in terms of movement and stillness, speed and slowness; that is, bodies of the simplest kind. However, if we now think of another individual made up of several individuals of different natures, we will find that the number of ways it can be affected, without losing its essence, will increase significantly. Each of its parts would consist of multiple bodies, and therefore (by Lemma vi.) each part would allow for quicker or slower movement without changing its essence, and would thus be able to transmit those movements more quickly or more slowly to the other parts. If we consider a third type of individuals made up of individuals of this second type, we will see that they can be affected in even more ways without changing their actual essence. We can easily extend this concept infinitely and imagine all of nature as one individual, whose parts, meaning all bodies, can vary in countless ways without changing the individual as a whole. I would need to explain and demonstrate this idea in more detail if I were writing a specific treatise on body. But as I’ve mentioned, that is not my goal; I’ve only touched on this issue because it allows me to easily prove my point.


POSTULATES

I. The human body is composed of a number of individual parts, of diverse nature, each one of which is in itself extremely complex.

I. The human body is made up of several individual parts, each with different characteristics, and each part is incredibly complex on its own.

II. Of the individual parts composing the human body some are fluid, some soft, some hard.

II. The individual parts of the human body include some that are fluid, some that are soft, and some that are hard.

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

III. The individual parts that make up the human body, and therefore the human body itself, are influenced in various ways by outside forces.

IV. The human body stands in need for its preservation of a number of other bodies, by which it is continually, so to speak, regenerated.

IV. The human body needs several other bodies for its preservation, which it is constantly, in a way, renewed by.

V. When the fluid part of the human body is determined by an external body to impinge often on another soft part, it changes the surface of the latter, and, as it were, leaves the impression thereupon of the external body which impels it.

V. When the fluid part of the human body is pushed frequently against another soft part by an external force, it alters the surface of that part and, in a sense, leaves an impression of the external force on it.

VI. The human body can move external bodies, and arrange them in a variety of ways.

VI. The human body can move objects and organize them in different ways.

PROP. XIV. The human mind is capable of perceiving a great number of things, and is so in proportion as its body is capable of receiving a great number of impressions.

PROP. XIV. The human mind can perceive a lot of things, and its ability to do so is proportional to how well its body can take in a variety of impressions.

Proof.—The human body (by Post. iii. and vi.) is affected in very many ways by external bodies, and is capable in very many ways of affecting external bodies. But (II. xii.) the human mind must perceive all that takes place in the human body; the human mind is, therefore, capable of perceiving a great number of things, and is so in proportion, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The human body (by Post. iii. and vi.) is influenced in many ways by outside factors, and can also influence external factors in various ways. But (II. xii.) the human mind must take in all that happens within the human body; therefore, the human mind is capable of perceiving a large number of things, and this ability is proportional, etc. Q.E.D.

PROP. XV. The idea, which constitutes the actual being of the human mind, is not simple, but compounded of a great number of ideas.

PROP. XV. The concept that makes up the true existence of the human mind isn't simple; it's made up of many different ideas.

Proof.—The idea constituting the actual being of the human mind is the idea of the body (II. xiii.), which (Post. i.) is composed of a great number of complex individual parts. But there is necessarily in God the idea of each individual part whereof the body is composed (II. viii. Coroll.); therefore (II. vii.), the idea of the human body is composed of these numerous ideas of its component parts. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The concept that makes up the existence of the human mind is the concept of the body (II. xiii.), which (Post. i.) is made up of many complex individual parts. But there is necessarily in God the idea of each individual part that the body consists of (II. viii. Coroll.); therefore (II. vii.), the idea of the human body is made up of these numerous ideas of its component parts. Q.E.D.

PROP. XVI. The idea of every mode, in which the human body is affected by external bodies, must involve the nature of the human body, and also the nature of the external body.

PROP. XVI. The concept of every way that the human body is influenced by external objects must include the nature of the human body as well as the nature of the external object.

Proof.—All the modes, in which any given body is affected, follow from the nature of the body affected, and also from the nature of the affecting body (by Ax. i., after the Coroll. of Lemma iii.), wherefore their idea also necessarily (by I. Ax. iv.) involves the nature of both bodies; therefore, the idea of every mode, in which the human body is affected by external bodies, involves the nature of the human body and of the external body. Q.E.D.

Proof.—All the ways in which any specific body is influenced come from the nature of the affected body and the nature of the influencing body (by Ax. i., after the Coroll. of Lemma iii.), which means their concept also necessarily (by I. Ax. iv.) includes the nature of both bodies; therefore, the concept of every way in which the human body is affected by external bodies includes the nature of the human body and of the external body. Q.E.D.

Corollary I.—Hence it follows, first, that the human mind perceives the nature of a variety of bodies, together with the nature of its own.

Corollary I.—So, it follows that the human mind understands the nature of different bodies, as well as its own nature.

Corollary II.—It follows, secondly, that the ideas, which we have of external bodies, indicate rather the constitution of our own body than the nature of external bodies. I have amply illustrated this in the Appendix to Part I.

Corollary II.—It follows, secondly, that the ideas we have of external objects reflect more the makeup of our own body than the true nature of those external objects. I have thoroughly explained this in the Appendix to Part I.

PROP. XVII. If the human body is affected in a manner which involves the nature of any external body, the human mind will regard the said external body as actually existing, or as present to itself, until the human body be affected in such a way, as to exclude the existence or the presence of the said external body.

PROP. XVII. If the human body is influenced in a way that relates to the nature of any external object, the human mind will perceive that external object as actually existing, or as present to itself, until the human body is affected in such a way that eliminates the existence or presence of that external object.

Proof.—This proposition is self—evident, for so long as the human body continues to be thus affected, so long will the human mind (II. xii.) regard this modification of the body—that is (by the last Prop.), it will have the idea of the mode as actually existing, and this idea involves the nature of the external body. In other words, it will have the idea which does not exclude, but postulates the existence or presence of the nature of the external body; therefore the mind (by II. xvi., Coroll. i.) will regard the external body as actually existing, until it is affected, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—This statement is obvious because as long as the human body is affected in this way, the human mind (II. xii.) will perceive this change in the body—that is (according to the last proposition), it will have the idea of the mode as actually existing, and this idea includes the nature of the external body. In other words, it will hold an idea that does not dismiss but assumes the existence or presence of the nature of the external body; therefore, the mind (by II. xvi., Coroll. i.) will see the external body as actually existing until it is affected, etc. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—The mind is able to regard as present external bodies, by which the human body has once been affected, even though they be no longer in existence or present.

Corollary.—The mind can perceive external objects that have previously impacted the human body, even if those objects are no longer present or exist.

Proof.—When external bodies determine the fluid parts of the human body, so that they often impinge on the softer parts, they change the surface of the last named (Post. v.); hence (Ax. ii., after the Coroll. of Lemma iii.) they are refracted therefrom in a different manner from that which they followed before such change; and, further, when afterwards they impinge on the new surfaces by their own spontaneous movement, they will be refracted in the same manner, as though they had been impelled towards those surfaces by external bodies; consequently, they will, while they continue to be thus refracted, affect the human body in the same manner, whereof the mind (II. xii.) will again take cognizance—that is (II. xvii.), the mind will again regard the external body as present, and will do so, as often as the fluid parts of the human body impinge on the aforesaid surfaces by their own spontaneous motion. Wherefore, although the external bodies, by which the human body has once been affected, be no longer in existence, the mind will nevertheless regard them as present, as often as this action of the body is repeated. Q.E.D.

Proof.—When external objects interact with the fluid parts of the human body, often hitting the softer areas, they alter the surface of those areas (Post. v.); therefore (Ax. ii., after the Coroll. of Lemma iii.), they are refracted differently than they were before this change. Furthermore, when they later make contact with the new surfaces through their own movement, they will be refracted in the same way as if they had been pushed toward those surfaces by external objects. As a result, while they continue to be refracted in this manner, they will affect the human body similarly, which the mind (II. xii.) will recognize again—that is (II. xvii.), the mind will perceive the external object as present, and will do so whenever the fluid parts of the human body hit those surfaces through their own motion. Therefore, even though the external objects that have once influenced the human body are no longer present, the mind will still perceive them as present whenever this action of the body is repeated. Q.E.D.

Note.—We thus see how it comes about, as is often the case, that we regard as present many things which are not. It is possible that the same result may be brought about by other causes; but I think it suffices for me here to have indicated one possible explanation, just as well as if I had pointed out the true cause. Indeed, I do not think I am very far from the truth, for all my assumptions are based on postulates, which rest, almost without exception, on experience, that cannot be controverted by those who have shown, as we have, that the human body, as we feel it, exists (Coroll. after II. xiii.). Furthermore (II. vii. Coroll., II. xvi. Coroll. ii.), we clearly understand what is the difference between the idea, say, of Peter, which constitutes the essence of Peter's mind, and the idea of the said Peter, which is in another man, say, Paul. The former directly answers to the essence of Peter's own body, and only implies existence so long as Peter exists; the latter indicates rather the disposition of Paul's body than the nature of Peter, and, therefore, while this disposition of Paul's body lasts, Paul's mind will regard Peter as present to itself, even though he no longer exists. Further, to retain the usual phraseology, the modifications of the human body, of which the ideas represent external bodies as present to us, we will call the images of things, though they do not recall the figure of things. When the mind regards bodies in this fashion, we say that it imagines. I will here draw attention to the fact, in order to indicate where error lies, that the imaginations of the mind, looked at in themselves, do not contain error. The mind does not err in the mere act of imagining, but only in so far as it is regarded as being without the idea, which excludes the existence of such things as it imagines to be present to it. If the mind, while imagining non—existent things as present to it, is at the same time conscious that they do not really exist, this power of imagination must be set down to the efficacy of its nature, and not to a fault, especially if this faculty of imagination depend solely on its own nature—that is (I. Def. vii.), if this faculty of imagination be free.

Note.—We see how it often happens that we think many things are present when they aren’t. Other factors might cause the same outcome, but I believe it's enough to suggest one possible explanation, just as if I had identified the true cause. In fact, I don't think I'm far from the truth, since all my assumptions are based on principles that almost entirely rely on experience, which can't be disputed by those who have demonstrated, as we have, that the human body, as we perceive it, exists (Coroll. after II. xiii.). Furthermore (II. vii. Coroll., II. xvi. Coroll. ii.), we clearly understand the difference between the idea of Peter, which defines Peter’s mind, and the idea of that same Peter, which exists in another person, like Paul. The former directly corresponds to the essence of Peter’s own body and only implies existence as long as Peter is alive; the latter reflects more on Paul’s body than on Peter’s nature. Therefore, as long as this aspect of Paul’s body remains, Paul’s mind will perceive Peter as present, even if Peter no longer exists. To stick with the usual terminology, we will refer to the changes in the human body, which represent external objects as present to us, as the images of things, even though they don’t necessarily mirror the actual form of things. When the mind perceives bodies this way, we say that it imagines. I want to point out that the imaginations of the mind, when considered on their own, are not wrong. The mind does not err simply by imagining; it only does so when it is seen as lacking the idea that excludes the existence of the things it imagines are present. If the mind, while imagining things that don’t actually exist as present, is also aware that they are not real, then this imaginative power must be attributed to its inherent capability, not a flaw, especially if this imaginative faculty relies solely on its own nature—that is (I. Def. vii.), if this power of imagination is free.

PROP. XVIII. If the human body has once been affected by two or more bodies at the same time, when the mind afterwards imagines any of them, it will straightway remember the others also.

PROP. XVIII. If the human body has been influenced by two or more bodies at the same time, when the mind later thinks of any one of them, it will immediately recall the others as well.

Proof.—The mind (II. xvii. Coroll.) imagines any given body, because the human body is affected and disposed by the impressions from an external body, in the same manner as it is affected when certain of its parts are acted on by the said external body; but (by our hypothesis) the body was then so disposed, that the mind imagined two bodies at once; therefore, it will also in the second case imagine two bodies at once, and the mind, when it imagines one, will straightway remember the other. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The mind (II. xvii. Coroll.) envisions any particular body, since the human body reacts and is influenced by impressions from an external body, just like it reacts when certain parts are impacted by that external body; but (according to our assumption) at that moment, the body was positioned in such a way that the mind imagined two bodies simultaneously; therefore, in the second case, it will also imagine two bodies at once, and when the mind imagines one, it will immediately recall the other. Q.E.D.

Note.—We now clearly see what Memory is. It is simply a certain association of ideas involving the nature of things outside the human body, which association arises in the mind according to the order and association of the modifications (affectiones) of the human body. I say, first, it is an association of those ideas only, which involve the nature of things outside the human body: not of ideas which answer to the nature of the said things: ideas of the modifications of the human body are, strictly speaking (II. xvi.), those which involve the nature both of the human body and of external bodies. I say, secondly, that this association arises according to the order and association of the modifications of the human body, in order to distinguish it from that association of ideas, which arises from the order of the intellect, whereby the mind perceives things through their primary causes, and which is in all men the same. And hence we can further clearly understand, why the mind from the thought of one thing, should straightway arrive at the thought of another thing, which has no similarity with the first; for instance, from the thought of the word pomum (an apple), a Roman would straightway arrive at the thought of the fruit apple, which has no similitude with the articulate sound in question, nor anything in common with it, except that the body of the man has often been affected by these two things; that is, that the man has often heard the word pomum, while he was looking at the fruit; similarly every man will go on from one thought to another, according as his habit has ordered the images of things in his body. For a soldier, for instance, when he sees the tracks of a horse in sand, will at once pass from the thought of a horse to the thought of a horseman, and thence to the thought of war, &c.; while a countryman will proceed from the thought of a horse to the thought of a plough, a field, &c. Thus every man will follow this or that train of thought, according as he has been in the habit of conjoining and associating the mental images of things in this or that manner.

Note.—Now we clearly understand what Memory is. It’s simply a certain association of ideas related to the nature of things outside the human body, and this association arises in the mind based on the order and relationship of the modifications (affectiones) of the human body. First, I want to emphasize that it's an association of those ideas only that pertain to things outside the human body: not of ideas that correspond to the nature of these things. Ideas regarding the modifications of the human body, strictly speaking (II. xvi.), are those that involve the nature of both the human body and external objects. Second, I say that this association arises according to the order and relationship of the modifications of the human body, to distinguish it from the association of ideas that comes from the order of the intellect, through which the mind perceives things via their primary causes, and which is the same for all people. Therefore, we can also clearly understand why the mind can jump from the thought of one thing to the thought of another that bears no similarity to the first; for example, when thinking of the word pomum (an apple), a Roman would immediately think of the fruit apple, which has no similarity to the spoken word nor anything in common with it, except that the human body has often been affected by both things: namely, that the person has often heard the word pomum while looking at the fruit. Similarly, everyone moves from one thought to another according to how their experiences have arranged the mental images of things in their mind. For instance, a soldier, upon seeing horse tracks in the sand, will quickly move from the thought of a horse to the thought of a horseman, and then to the thought of war, etc.; while a farmer will move from the thought of a horse to the thought of a plow, a field, etc. Thus, each person will follow their own line of thought based on how they have been accustomed to linking and associating mental images of things in different ways.

PROP. XIX. The human mind has no knowledge of the body, and does not know it to exist, save through the ideas of the modifications whereby the body is affected.

PROP. XIX. The human mind has no awareness of the body and doesn’t know it exists except through the ideas of the changes that affect the body.

Proof.—The human mind is the very idea or knowledge of the human body (II. xiii.), which (II. ix.) is in God, in so far as he is regarded as affected by another idea of a particular thing actually existing: or, inasmuch as (Post. iv.) the human body stands in need of very many bodies whereby it is, as it were, continually regenerated; and the order and connection of ideas is the same as the order and connection of causes (II. vii.); this idea will therefore be in God, in so far as he is regarded as affected by the ideas of very many particular things. Thus God has the idea of the human body, or knows the human body, in so far as he is affected by very many other ideas, and not in so far as he constitutes the nature of the human mind; that is (by II. xi. Coroll.), the human mind does not know the human body. But the ideas of the modifications of body are in God, in so far as he constitutes the nature of the human mind, or the human mind perceives those modifications (II. xii.), and consequently (II. xvi.) the human body itself, and as actually existing; therefore the mind perceives thus far only the human body. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The human mind is essentially the idea or understanding of the human body (II. xiii.), which (II. ix.) exists in God, as long as He is seen as affected by another idea of a particular thing that actually exists; or because (Post. iv.) the human body requires many other bodies through which it is, in a sense, continuously regenerated; and the order and connection of ideas is the same as the order and connection of causes (II. vii.); this idea will therefore be in God, as He is seen as influenced by the ideas of many specific things. Thus, God has the idea of the human body, or knows the human body, as He is influenced by many other ideas, and not in the sense that He defines the nature of the human mind; that is (by II. xi. Coroll.), the human mind does not know the human body. However, the ideas of the modifications of the body exist in God, as He defines the nature of the human mind, or the human mind perceives those modifications (II. xii.), and consequently (II. xvi.) the human body itself as actually existing; therefore, the mind perceives only the human body to this extent. Q.E.D.

PROP. XX. The idea or knowledge of the human mind is also in God, following in God in the same manner, and being referred to God in the same manner, as the idea or knowledge of the human body.

PROP. XX. The idea or understanding of the human mind is also in God, following God in the same way, and being connected to God in the same way, as the idea or understanding of the human body.

Proof.—Thought is an attribute of God (II. i.); therefore (II. iii.) there must necessarily be in God the idea both of thought itself and of all its modifications, consequently also of the human mind (II. xi.). Further, this idea or knowledge of the mind does not follow from God, in so far as he is infinite, but in so far as he is affected by another idea of an individual thing (II. ix.). But (II. vii.) the order and connection of ideas is the same as the order and connection of causes; therefore this idea or knowledge of the mind is in God and is referred to God, in the same manner as the idea or knowledge of the body. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Thought is a quality of God (II. i.); therefore (II. iii.) there must necessarily be in God the concept of both thought itself and all its variations, which includes the human mind (II. xi.). Additionally, this concept or understanding of the mind doesn't come from God as he is infinite, but rather as he is influenced by another concept of an individual thing (II. ix.). However, (II. vii.) the order and connection of ideas is the same as the order and connection of causes; thus, this concept or understanding of the mind exists in God and is attributed to God, just like the concept or understanding of the body. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXI. This idea of the mind is united to the mind in the same way as the mind is united to the body.

PROP. XXI. This idea of the mind is connected to the mind in the same way that the mind is connected to the body.

Proof.—That the mind is united to the body we have shown from the fact, that the body is the object of the mind (II. xii. and xiii.); and so for the same reason the idea of the mind must be united with its object, that is, with the mind in the same manner as the mind is united to the body. Q.E.D.

Proof.—We have demonstrated that the mind is connected to the body because the body is the focus of the mind (II. xii. and xiii.); therefore, for the same reason, the concept of the mind must also be linked with its object, which is the mind, in the same way that the mind is connected to the body. Q.E.D.

Note.—This proposition is comprehended much more clearly from what we have said in the note to II. vii. We there showed that the idea of body and body, that is, mind and body (II. xiii.), are one and the same individual conceived now under the attribute of thought, now under the attribute of extension; wherefore the idea of the mind and the mind itself are one and the same thing, which is conceived under one and the same attribute, namely, thought. The idea of the mind, I repeat, and the mind itself are in God by the same necessity and follow from him from the same power of thinking. Strictly speaking, the idea of the mind, that is, the idea of an idea, is nothing but the distinctive quality (forma) of the idea in so far as it is conceived as a mode of thought without reference to the object; if a man knows anything, he, by that very fact, knows that he knows it, and at the same time knows that he knows that he knows it, and so on to infinity. But I will treat of this hereafter.

Note.—This proposal is much clearer when considered in light of what we explained in the note to II. vii. We demonstrated there that the concepts of body and mind (II. xiii.) are essentially the same entity viewed now through the lens of thought, and now through the lens of physical extension; therefore, the concept of the mind and the mind itself are one and the same thing, which is understood under the same attribute, namely, thought. I emphasize again that the concept of the mind, along with the mind itself, exists in God with the same necessity and arises from His power of thinking. To be precise, the concept of the mind, that is, the concept of a concept, is simply the distinguishing quality of the idea as it is conceived as a mode of thought without regard to the object; if someone knows something, they automatically know that they know it, and at the same time know that they know that they know it, and so forth, endlessly. But I will address this in more detail later.

PROP. XXII. The human mind perceives not only the modifications of the body, but also the ideas of such modifications.

PROP. XXII. The human mind not only perceives changes in the body but also the thoughts about those changes.

Proof.—The ideas of the ideas of modifications follow in God in the same manner, and are referred to God in the same manner, as the ideas of the said modifications. This is proved in the same way as II. xx. But the ideas of the modifications of the body are in the human mind (II. xii.), that is, in God, in so far as he constitutes the essence of the human mind; therefore the ideas of these ideas will be in God, in so far as he has the knowledge or idea of the human mind, that is (II. xxi.), they will be in the human mind itself, which therefore perceives not only the modifications of the body, but also the ideas of such modifications. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The concepts of modifications in God are connected and acknowledged in the same way as the concepts of those modifications themselves. This is demonstrated similarly to II. xx. However, the concepts of the body's modifications exist in the human mind (II. xii.), meaning in God, as He defines the essence of the human mind; therefore, the concepts of these concepts will exist in God, as He possesses the knowledge or concept of the human mind, which means (II. xxi.) they will also exist in the human mind itself, which perceives not only the modifications of the body but also the concepts of such modifications. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXIII. The mind does not know itself, except in so far as it perceives the ideas of the modifications of the body.

PROP. XXIII. The mind only knows itself to the extent that it understands the ideas related to the changes in the body.

Proof.—The idea or knowledge of the mind (II. xx.) follows in God in the same manner, and is referred to God in the same manner, as the idea or knowledge of the body. But since (II. xix.) the human mind does not know the human body itself, that is (II. xi. Coroll.), since the knowledge of the human body is not referred to God, in so far as he constitutes the nature of the human mind; therefore, neither is the knowledge of the mind referred to God, in so far as he constitutes the essence of the human mind; therefore (by the same Coroll. II. xi.), the human mind thus far has no knowledge of itself. Further the ideas of the modifications, whereby the body is affected, involve the nature of the human body itself (II. xvi.), that is (II. xiii.), they agree with the nature of the mind; wherefore the knowledge of these ideas necessarily involves knowledge of the mind; but (by the last Prop.) the knowledge of these ideas is in the human mind itself; wherefore the human mind thus far only has knowledge of itself. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The concept or awareness of the mind (II. xx.) relates to God in the same way, and is attributed to God in the same way, as the concept or awareness of the body. However, since (II. xix.) the human mind does not know the human body itself, that is (II. xi. Coroll.), since the awareness of the human body is not attributed to God, in as much as He defines the nature of the human mind; therefore, the awareness of the mind is also not attributed to God, in as much as He defines the essence of the human mind; thus (by the same Coroll. II. xi.), the human mind, to this extent, has no awareness of itself. Additionally, the ideas of the modifications that affect the body include the nature of the human body itself (II. xvi.), that is (II. xiii.), they align with the nature of the mind; therefore, the awareness of these ideas necessarily includes awareness of the mind; but (by the last Prop.) the awareness of these ideas exists in the human mind itself; hence, the human mind, to this extent, only has awareness of itself. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXIV. The human mind does not involve an adequate knowledge of the parts composing the human body.

PROP. XXIV. The human mind does not have a complete understanding of the parts that make up the human body.

Proof.—The parts composing the human body do not belong to the essence of that body, except in so far as they communicate their motions to one another in a certain fixed relation (Def. after Lemma iii.), not in so far as they can be regarded as individuals without relation to the human body. The parts of the human body are highly complex individuals (Post. i.), whose parts (Lemma iv.) can be separated from the human body without in any way destroying the nature and distinctive quality of the latter, and they can communicate their motions (Ax. i., after Lemma iii.) to other bodies in another relation; therefore (II. iii.) the idea or knowledge of each part will be in God, inasmuch (II. ix.) as he is regarded as affected by another idea of a particular thing, which particular thing is prior in the order of nature to the aforesaid part (II. vii.). We may affirm the same thing of each part of each individual composing the human body; therefore, the knowledge of each part composing the human body is in God, in so far as he is affected by very many ideas of things, and not in so far as he has the idea of the human body only, in other words, the idea which constitutes the nature of the human mind (II. xiii); therefore (II. xi. Coroll.), the human mind does not involve an adequate knowledge of the human body. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The parts that make up the human body are not essential to that body, except to the extent that they interact and influence each other in a specific way (Def. after Lemma iii.), and not as individual entities on their own without connection to the human body. The parts of the human body are complex individuals (Post. i.), and their components (Lemma iv.) can be separated from the human body without altering the nature and distinctiveness of the body itself, and they can also interact (Ax. i., after Lemma iii.) with other bodies in a different way; therefore (II. iii.) the concept or understanding of each part exists in God, as long as (II. ix.) He is seen as being influenced by another idea of a particular thing, which is more fundamental in the order of nature than the mentioned part (II. vii.). The same can be said for each part of every individual that makes up the human body; therefore, the understanding of each part that forms the human body is in God, as He is influenced by a multitude of ideas of things, and not solely by the idea of the human body itself, in other words, the idea that defines the nature of the human mind (II. xiii); therefore (II. xi. Coroll.), the human mind does not possess an adequate understanding of the human body. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXV. The idea of each modification of the human body does not involve an adequate knowledge of the external body.

PROP. XXV. The concept of each change in the human body doesn’t require a complete understanding of the physical body.

Proof.—We have shown that the idea of a modification of the human body involves the nature of an external body, in so far as that external body conditions the human body in a given manner. But, in so far as the external body is an individual, which has no reference to the human body, the knowledge or idea thereof is in God (II. ix.), in so far as God is regarded as affected by the idea of a further thing, which (II. vii.) is naturally prior to the said external body. Wherefore an adequate knowledge of the external body is not in God, in so far as he has the idea of the modification of the human body; in other words, the idea of the modification of the human body does not involve an adequate knowledge of the external body. Q.E.D.

Proof.—We have demonstrated that the concept of changing the human body includes the characteristics of an external body, as that external body influences the human body in a specific way. However, as the external body is an individual that doesn't relate to the human body, the knowledge or idea of it exists in God (II. ix.), in the sense that God is seen as being influenced by the idea of another entity, which (II. vii.) naturally precedes the mentioned external body. Therefore, a complete understanding of the external body is not found in God, as He has the idea of the modification of the human body; in other words, the idea of changing the human body does not imply a complete understanding of the external body. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXVI. The human mind does not perceive any external body as actually existing, except through the ideas of the modifications of its own body.

PROP. XXVI. The human mind doesn't recognize any external object as actually existing, except through the ideas that arise from its own body's changes.

Proof.—If the human body is in no way affected by a given external body, then (II. vii.) neither is the idea of the human body, in other words, the human mind, affected in any way by the idea of the existence of the said external body, nor does it in any manner perceive its existence. But, in so far as the human body is affected in any way by a given external body, thus far (II. xvi. and Coroll.) it perceives that external body. Q.E.D.

Proof.—If the human body isn’t impacted by a specific external body, then (II. vii.) the concept of the human body, or the human mind, isn’t influenced in any way by the idea of the existence of that external body, nor does it perceive its existence. However, to the extent that the human body is affected by a specific external body, it perceives that external body. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—In so far as the human mind imagines an external body, it has not an adequate knowledge thereof.

Corollary.—As far as the human mind envisions an external body, it does not have a complete understanding of it.

Proof.—When the human mind regards external bodies through the ideas of the modifications of its own body, we say that it imagines (see II. xvii. note); now the mind can only imagine external bodies as actually existing. Therefore (by II. xxv.), in so far as the mind imagines external bodies, it has not an adequate knowledge of them. Q.E.D.

Proof.—When the human mind observes external objects through the ideas formed by its own body, we say that it imagines (see II. xvii. note); now the mind can only imagine external objects as actually existing. Therefore (by II. xxv.), to the extent that the mind imagines external objects, it does not have a complete understanding of them. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXVII. The idea of each modification of the human body does not involve an adequate knowledge of the human body itself.

PROP. XXVII. The concept of each change in the human body does not require a complete understanding of the human body itself.

Proof.—Every idea of a modification of the human body involves the nature of the human body, in so far as the human body is regarded as affected in a given manner (II. xvi.). But, inasmuch as the human body is an individual which may be affected in many other ways, the idea of the said modification, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Every concept of changing the human body involves understanding the nature of the human body, as it is seen to be affected in a specific way (II. xvi.). However, since the human body is an individual that can be influenced in many different ways, the idea of that modification, etc. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXVIII. The ideas of the modifications of the human body, in so far as they have reference only to the human mind, are not clear and distinct, but confused.

PROP. XXVIII. The ideas about how the human body can change, as they relate only to the human mind, are not clear and distinct, but rather confusing.

Proof.—The ideas of the modifications of the human body involve the nature both of the human body and of external bodies (II. xvi.); they must involve the nature not only of the human body but also of its parts; for the modifications are modes (Post. iii.), whereby the parts of the human body, and, consequently, the human body as a whole are affected. But (by II. xxiv., xxv.) the adequate knowledge of external bodies, as also of the parts composing the human body, is not in God, in so far as he is regarded as affected by the human mind, but in so far as he is regarded as affected by other ideas. These ideas of modifications, in so far as they are referred to the human mind alone, are as consequences without premisses, in other words, confused ideas. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The concepts of how the human body can change involve the nature of both the human body and external objects (II. xvi.); they must involve not just the human body but also its parts, because these changes are ways (Post. iii.) in which the parts of the human body, and therefore the human body as a whole, are affected. However, (by II. xxiv., xxv.) the complete understanding of external objects, as well as the parts that make up the human body, is not found in God when considered as affected by the human mind, but rather when considered as affected by other ideas. These ideas of changes, when they are related only to the human mind, are like outcomes without starting points, in other words, they are confused ideas. Q.E.D.

Note.—The idea which constitutes the nature of the human mind is, in the same manner, proved not to be, when considered in itself alone, clear and distinct; as also is the case with the idea of the human mind, and the ideas of the ideas of the modifications of the human body, in so far as they are referred to the mind only, as everyone may easily see.

Note.—The concept that defines the nature of the human mind is similarly shown not to be, when looked at on its own, clear and distinct; the same goes for the idea of the human mind itself, and the ideas related to the modifications of the human body, as they are connected only to the mind, which anyone can easily observe.

PROP. XXIX. The idea of the idea of each modification of the human body does not involve an adequate knowledge of the human mind.

PROP. XXIX. The concept of each change in the human body does not require a complete understanding of the human mind.

Proof.—The idea of a modification of the human body (II. xxvii.) does not involve an adequate knowledge of the said body, in other words, does not adequately express its nature; that is (II. xiii.) it does not agree with the nature of the mind adequately; therefore (I. Ax. vi) the idea of this idea does not adequately express the nature of the human mind, or does not involve an adequate knowledge thereof.

Proof.—The idea of changing the human body (II. xxvii.) doesn't show a complete understanding of that body; in other words, it doesn't accurately reflect its nature; that is (II. xiii.) it doesn't align with the true nature of the mind. Therefore (I. Ax. vi), the idea of this idea doesn't accurately represent the nature of the human mind or include a complete understanding of it.

Corollary.—Hence it follows that the human mind, when it perceives things after the common order of nature, has not an adequate but only a confused and fragmentary knowledge of itself, of its own body, and of external bodies. For the mind does not know itself, except in so far as it perceives the ideas of the modifications of body (II. xxiii.). It only perceives its own body (II. xix.) through the ideas of the modifications, and only perceives external bodies through the same means; thus, in so far as it has such ideas of modification, it has not an adequate knowledge of itself (II. xxix.), nor of its own body (II. xxvii.), nor of external bodies (II. xxv.), but only a fragmentary and confused knowledge thereof (II. xxviii. and note). Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Therefore, it follows that the human mind, when it perceives things according to the usual nature, does not have a complete but only a confused and partial understanding of itself, its own body, and external objects. The mind only knows itself to the extent that it perceives the ideas of the changes in the body (II. xxiii.). It recognizes its own body (II. xix.) through the ideas of these changes and recognizes external objects in the same way; thus, as far as it has these ideas of changes, it does not have a complete understanding of itself (II. xxix.), nor of its own body (II. xxvii.), nor of external objects (II. xxv.), but only a partial and unclear understanding of them (II. xxviii. and note). Q.E.D.

Note.—I say expressly, that the mind has not an adequate but only a confused knowledge of itself, its own body, and of external bodies, whenever it perceives things after the common order of nature; that is, whenever it is determined from without, namely, by the fortuitous play of circumstance, to regard this or that; not at such times as it is determined from within, that is, by the fact of regarding several things at once, to understand their points of agreement, difference, and contrast. Whenever it is determined in anywise from within, it regards things clearly and distinctly, as I will show below.

Note.—I want to be clear that the mind doesn’t have a complete but only a vague understanding of itself, its own body, and external objects when it perceives things in the usual way; that is, when it is influenced from outside, specifically by random circumstances, to focus on this or that. This is not the case when it is influenced from within, that is, by the ability to consider multiple things at once and grasp their similarities, differences, and contrasts. Whenever it is guided in any way from within, it understands things clearly and distinctly, as I will demonstrate below.

PROP. XXX. We can only have a very inadequate knowledge of the duration of our body.

PROP. XXX. We can only have a limited understanding of how long our bodies will last.

Proof.—The duration of our body does not depend on its essence (II. Ax. i.), nor on the absolute nature of God (I. xxi.). But (I. xxviii.) it is conditioned to exist and operate by causes, which in their turn are conditioned to exist and operate in a fixed and definite relation by other causes, these last again being conditioned by others, and so on to infinity. The duration of our body therefore depends on the common order of nature, or the constitution of things. Now, however a thing may be constituted, the adequate knowledge of that thing is in God, in so far as he has the ideas of all things, and not in so far as he has the idea of the human body only. (II. ix. Coroll.) Wherefore the knowledge of the duration of our body is in God very inadequate, in so far as he is only regarded as constituting the nature of the human mind; that is (II. xi. Coroll.), this knowledge is very inadequate to our mind. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The lifespan of our body doesn’t depend on its essence (II. Ax. i.), nor on the absolute nature of God (I. xxi.). But (I. xxviii.), it exists and functions due to causes, which in turn exist and operate in a fixed and definite relationship with other causes, and these last ones are conditioned by others, continuing infinitely. Thus, the lifespan of our body depends on the common order of nature, or the way things are structured. Now, regardless of how a thing is structured, the complete understanding of that thing resides in God, in that He has the ideas of all things, not just the idea of the human body. (II. ix. Coroll.) Therefore, the knowledge of the lifespan of our body is very limited in God, as He is only viewed as defining the nature of the human mind; that is (II. xi. Coroll.), this knowledge is very limited to our mind. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXXI. We can only have a very inadequate knowledge of the duration of particular things external to ourselves.

PROP. XXXI. We can only have a very limited understanding of how long specific things outside of ourselves last.

Proof.—Every particular thing, like the human body, must be conditioned by another particular thing to exist and operate in a fixed and definite relation; this other particular thing must likewise be conditioned by a third, and so on to infinity. (I. xxviii.) As we have shown in the foregoing proposition, from this common property of particular things, we have only a very inadequate knowledge of the duration of our body; we must draw a similar conclusion with regard to the duration of particular things, namely, that we can only have a very inadequate knowledge of the duration thereof. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Every individual thing, like the human body, must depend on another individual thing to exist and function in a fixed and specific relationship; this other individual thing must also depend on a third, and so on indefinitely. (I. xxviii.) As we've demonstrated in the previous proposition, based on this common characteristic of individual things, we only have a very limited understanding of how long our body lasts; we should reach a similar conclusion regarding the duration of individual things, specifically that our knowledge of their duration is also very limited. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Hence it follows that all particular things are contingent and perishable. For we can have no adequate idea of their duration (by the last Prop.), and this is what we must understand by the contingency and perishableness of things. (I. xxxiii., Note i.) For (I. xxix.), except in this sense, nothing is contingent.

Corollary.—Therefore, it follows that all specific things are dependent and temporary. We can't fully grasp how long they last (as stated in the last proposition), and this is what we mean by the dependence and temporariness of things. (I. xxxiii., Note i.) For (I. xxix.), in this context, nothing is dependent.

PROP. XXXII. All ideas, in so far as they are referred to God, are true.

PROP. XXXII. All ideas, as far as they relate to God, are true.

Proof.—All ideas which are in God agree in every respect with their objects (II. vii. Coroll.), therefore (I. Ax. vi.) they are all true. Q.E.D.

Proof.—All ideas that exist in God match perfectly with their objects (II. vii. Coroll.), therefore (I. Ax. vi.) they are all true. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXXIII. There is nothing positive in ideas, which causes them to be called false.

PROP. XXXIII. There’s nothing definitive in ideas that makes them be labeled as false.

Proof.—If this be denied, conceive, if possible, a positive mode of thinking, which should constitute the distinctive quality of falsehood. Such a mode of thinking cannot be in God (II. xxxii.); external to God it cannot be or be conceived (I. xv.). Therefore there is nothing positive in ideas which causes them to be called false. Q.E.D.

Proof.—If this is denied, try to imagine a positive way of thinking that defines falsehood. Such a way of thinking cannot exist in God (II. xxxii.); it cannot exist or be imagined outside of God (I. xv.). Therefore, there is nothing positive in ideas that makes them be labeled as false. Q.E.D.

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

PROP. XXXIV. Every idea that we have, which is absolute, adequate, and perfect, is true.

Proof.—When we say that an idea in us is adequate and perfect, we say, in other words (II. xi. Coroll.), that the idea is adequate and perfect in God, in so far as he constitutes the essence of our mind; consequently (II. xxxii.), we say that such an idea is true. Q.E.D.

Proof.—When we say that an idea within us is adequate and perfect, we are essentially saying (II. xi. Coroll.) that the idea is adequate and perfect in God, as he defines the essence of our mind; therefore (II. xxxii.), we state that such an idea is true. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXXV. Falsity consists in the privation of knowledge, which inadequate, fragmentary, or confused ideas involve.

PROP. XXXV. Falsity is the lack of knowledge that comes from inadequate, fragmented, or confusing ideas.

Proof.—There is nothing positive in ideas, which causes them to be called false (II. xxxiii.); but falsity cannot consist in simple privation (for minds, not bodies, are said to err and to be mistaken), neither can it consist in absolute ignorance, for ignorance and error are not identical; wherefore it consists in the privation of knowledge, which inadequate, fragmentary, or confused ideas involve. Q.E.D.

Proof.—There is nothing concrete in ideas that makes them false (II. xxxiii.); however, falsity cannot be just a lack of something (since only minds, not bodies, can be wrong or mistaken), nor can it be total ignorance, because ignorance and error aren't the same thing; therefore, it lies in the absence of knowledge that inadequate, incomplete, or unclear ideas create. Q.E.D.

Note.—In the note to II. xvii. I explained how error consists in the privation of knowledge, but in order to throw more light on the subject I will give an example. For instance, men are mistaken in thinking themselves free; their opinion is made up of consciousness of their own actions, and ignorance of the causes by which they are conditioned. Their idea of freedom, therefore, is simply their ignorance of any cause for their actions. As for their saying that human actions depend on the will, this is a mere phrase without any idea to correspond thereto. What the will is, and how it moves the body, they none of them know; those who boast of such knowledge, and feign dwellings and habitations for the soul, are wont to provoke either laughter or disgust. So, again, when we look at the sun, we imagine that it is distant from us about two hundred feet; this error does not lie solely in this fancy, but in the fact that, while we thus imagine, we do not know the sun's true distance or the cause of the fancy. For although we afterwards learn, that the sun is distant from us more than six hundred of the earth's diameters, we none the less shall fancy it to be near; for we do not imagine the sun as near us, because we are ignorant of its true distance, but because the modification of our body involves the essence of the sun, in so far as our said body is affected thereby.

Note.—In the note to II. xvii., I explained how error comes from a lack of knowledge, but to clarify further, I'll provide an example. For instance, people mistakenly believe they are free; their belief is based on their awareness of their own actions and their ignorance of the factors that shape them. Their idea of freedom is, therefore, simply their lack of understanding about the reasons behind their actions. When they claim that human actions depend on the will, it’s just a phrase that doesn’t connect to any real idea. They don’t know what will is or how it influences the body; those who brag about such knowledge and pretend to define a home for the soul just end up provoking laughter or disgust. Similarly, when we look at the sun, we think it’s only about two hundred feet away; this error isn’t just a silly notion, but comes from the fact that while we believe this, we don’t actually know the sun's true distance or the reason for our belief. Even when we later find out that the sun is more than six hundred times the diameter of the Earth away, we still think it seems close; it’s not that we picture the sun as nearby because we're unaware of its actual distance, but because how our body is affected involves the essence of the sun itself.

PROP. XXXVI. Inadequate and confused ideas follow by the same necessity, as adequate or clear and distinct ideas.

PROP. XXXVI. Inadequate and unclear ideas arise from the same necessity as adequate or clear and distinct ideas.

Proof.—All ideas are in God (I. xv.), and in so far as they are referred to God are true (II. xxxii.) and (II. vii. Coroll.) adequate; therefore there are no ideas confused or inadequate, except in respect to a particular mind (cf. II. xxiv. and xxviii.); therefore all ideas, whether adequate or inadequate, follow by the same necessity (II. vi.). Q.E.D.

Proof.—All ideas exist in God (I. xv.), and as far as they are related to God, they are true (II. xxxii.) and (II. vii. Coroll.) adequate; therefore, there are no confused or inadequate ideas, except in relation to a specific mind (cf. II. xxiv. and xxviii.); hence, all ideas, whether adequate or inadequate, arise from the same necessity (II. vi.). Q.E.D.

PROP. XXXVII. That which is common to all (cf. Lemma II., above), and which is equally in a part and in the whole, does not constitute the essence of any particular thing.

PROP. XXXVII. What is common to all (cf. Lemma II., above), and which exists equally in both a part and the whole, does not define the essence of any specific thing.

Proof.—If this be denied, conceive, if possible, that it constitutes the essence of some particular thing; for instance, the essence of B. Then (II. Def. ii.) it cannot without B either exist or be conceived; but this is against our hypothesis. Therefore it does not appertain to B's essence, nor does it constitute the essence of any particular thing. Q.E.D.

Proof.—If you deny this, imagine, if you can, that it is the essence of something specific; for example, the essence of B. Then (II. Def. ii.) it cannot exist or be understood without B; but this contradicts our assumption. Therefore, it is not part of B's essence, nor does it represent the essence of any specific thing. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXXVIII. Those things, which are common to all, and which are equally in a part and in the whole, cannot be conceived except adequately.

PROP. XXXVIII. Things that are shared by everyone and are present equally in both the part and the whole can only be understood completely.

Proof.—Let A be something, which is common to all bodies, and which is equally present in the part of any given body and in the whole. I say A cannot be conceived except adequately. For the idea thereof in God will necessarily be adequate (II. vii. Coroll.), both in so far as God has the idea of the human body, and also in so far as he has the idea of the modifications of the human body, which (II. xvi., xxv., xxvii.) involve in part the nature of the human body and the nature of external bodies; that is (II. xii., xiii.), the idea in God will necessarily be adequate, both in so far as he constitutes the human mind, and in so far as he has the ideas, which are in the human mind. Therefore the mind (II. xi. Coroll.) necessarily perceives A adequately, and has this adequate perception, both in so far as it perceives itself, and in so far as it perceives its own or any external body, nor can A be conceived in any other manner. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Let A be something common to all bodies, equally present in any part of a given body as well as in the whole. I say A can only be understood adequately. For the idea of it in God must necessarily be adequate (II. vii. Coroll.), in terms of God having the idea of the human body, as well as having the idea of the modifications of the human body, which (II. xvi., xxv., xxvii.) partially involve the nature of the human body and the nature of external bodies; that is (II. xii., xiii.), the idea in God will necessarily be adequate, both as he constitutes the human mind and as he has the ideas that exist in the human mind. Therefore the mind (II. xi. Coroll.) necessarily perceives A adequately, having this adequate perception, both in how it perceives itself and how it perceives its own body or any external body, and A cannot be conceived in any other way. Q.E.D.

Corollary—Hence it follows that there are certain ideas or notions common to all men; for (by Lemma ii.) all bodies agree in certain respects, which (by the foregoing Prop.) must be adequately or clearly and distinctly perceived by all.

Corollary—Therefore, it follows that there are certain ideas or concepts shared by all people; because (by Lemma ii.) all bodies have similarities in certain ways, which (by the previous Proposition) must be perceived clearly and distinctly by everyone.

PROP. XXXIX. That, which is common to and a property of the human body and such other bodies as are wont to affect the human body, and which is present equally in each part of either, or in the whole, will be represented by an adequate idea in the mind.

PROP. XXXIX. That which is shared by the human body and other bodies that typically influence the human body, and which is equally found in each part of either or in the whole, will be represented in the mind by a sufficient idea.

Proof.—If A be that, which is common to and a property of the human body and external bodies, and equally present in the human body and in the said external bodies, in each part of each external body and in the whole, there will be an adequate idea of A in God (II. vii. Coroll.), both in so far as he has the idea of the human body, and in so far as he has the ideas of the given external bodies. Let it now be granted, that the human body is affected by an external body through that, which it has in common therewith, namely, A; the idea of this modification will involve the property A (II. xvi.), and therefore (II. vii. Coroll.) the idea of this modification, in so far as it involves the property A, will be adequate in God, in so far as God is affected by the idea of the human body; that is (II. xiii.), in so far as he constitutes the nature of the human mind; therefore (II. xi. Coroll.) this idea is also adequate in the human mind. Q.E.D.

Proof.—If A is that which is common to and a property of the human body and external bodies, and is equally present in the human body and in the mentioned external bodies, in every part of each external body and in the whole, there will be an adequate idea of A in God (II. vii. Coroll.), both in terms of his idea of the human body and in terms of his ideas of the given external bodies. Let’s assume that the human body is affected by an external body through what it has in common with it, namely, A; the idea of this modification will involve the property A (II. xvi.), and therefore (II. vii. Coroll.) the idea of this modification, in so far as it involves the property A, will be adequate in God, in so far as God is affected by the idea of the human body; that is (II. xiii.), in so far as he constitutes the nature of the human mind; therefore (II. xi. Coroll.) this idea is also adequate in the human mind. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Hence it follows that the mind is fitted to perceive adequately more things, in proportion as its body has more in common with other bodies.

Corollary.—Therefore, it follows that the mind is better suited to perceive more things as its body has more in common with other bodies.

PROP. XL. Whatsoever ideas in the mind follow from ideas which are therein adequate, are also themselves adequate.

PROP. XL. Any ideas in the mind that come from ideas that are adequate are also adequate themselves.

Proof.—This proposition is self—evident. For when we say that an idea in the human mind follows from ideas which are therein adequate, we say, in other words (II. xi. Coroll.), that an idea is in the divine intellect, whereof God is the cause, not in so far as he is infinite, nor in so far as he is affected by the ideas of very many particular things, but only in so far as he constitutes the essence of the human mind.

Proof.—This statement is obvious. When we say that an idea in the human mind comes from ideas that are present and sufficient, we mean, in other words (II. xi. Coroll.), that an idea exists in the divine intellect, where God is the cause, not in the sense that He is infinite, nor because He is influenced by the ideas of many particular things, but only in the sense that He defines the essence of the human mind.

Note I.—I have thus set forth the cause of those notions, which are common to all men, and which form the basis of our ratiocination. But there are other causes of certain axioms or notions, which it would be to the purpose to set forth by this method of ours; for it would thus appear what notions are more useful than others, and what notions have scarcely any use at all. Furthermore, we should see what notions are common to all men, and what notions are only clear and distinct to those who are unshackled by prejudice, and we should detect those which are ill—founded. Again we should discern whence the notions called secondary derived their origin, and consequently the axioms on which they are founded, and other points of interest connected with these questions. But I have decided to pass over the subject here, partly because I have set it aside for another treatise, partly because I am afraid of wearying the reader by too great prolixity. Nevertheless, in order not to omit anything necessary to be known, I will briefly set down the causes, whence are derived the terms styled transcendental, such as Being, Thing, Something. These terms arose from the fact, that the human body, being limited, is only capable of distinctly forming a certain number of images (what an image is I explained in the II. xvii. note) within itself at the same time; if this number be exceeded, the images will begin to be confused; if this number of images, of which the body is capable of forming distinctly within itself, be largely exceeded, all will become entirely confused one with another. This being so, it is evident (from II. Prop. xvii. Coroll., and xviii.) that the human mind can distinctly imagine as many things simultaneously, as its body can form images simultaneously. When the images become quite confused in the body, the mind also imagines all bodies confusedly without any distinction, and will comprehend them, as it were, under one attribute, namely, under the attribute of Being, Thing, &c. The same conclusion can be drawn from the fact that images are not always equally vivid, and from other analogous causes, which there is no need to explain here; for the purpose which we have in view it is sufficient for us to consider one only. All may be reduced to this, that these terms represent ideas in the highest degree confused. From similar causes arise those notions, which we call general, such as man, horse, dog, &c. They arise, to wit, from the fact that so many images, for instance, of men, are formed simultaneously in the human mind, that the powers of imagination break down, not indeed utterly, but to the extent of the mind losing count of small differences between individuals (e.g. colour, size, &c.) and their definite number, and only distinctly imagining that, in which all the individuals, in so far as the body is affected by them, agree; for that is the point, in which each of the said individuals chiefly affected the body; this the mind expresses by the name man, and this it predicates of an infinite number of particular individuals. For, as we have said, it is unable to imagine the definite number of individuals. We must, however, bear in mind, that these general notions are not formed by all men in the same way, but vary in each individual according as the point varies, whereby the body has been most often affected and which the mind most easily imagines or remembers. For instance, those who have most often regarded with admiration the stature of man, will by the name of man understand an animal of erect stature; those who have been accustomed to regard some other attribute, will form a different general image of man, for instance, that man is a laughing animal, a two—footed animal without feathers, a rational animal, and thus, in other cases, everyone will form general images of things according to the habit of his body.

Note I.—I have outlined the reasons behind those ideas that are common to everyone, which serve as the foundation of our reasoning. However, there are other reasons for certain axioms or concepts that it would be useful to explain using our method; this would reveal which ideas are more useful than others and which ones have little to no utility. Moreover, we could identify which ideas are shared by all humans and which ones are only clear and distinct for those who are free from prejudice, as well as pinpoint those that are poorly founded. Additionally, we should explore the origins of so-called secondary notions and the axioms they are based on, along with other related topics. However, I've chosen to set this topic aside for now, partly because it's reserved for another work, and partly because I worry that I might bore the reader with too much detail. Still, to ensure we don't overlook anything essential, I will briefly outline the causes that give rise to terms like transcendental, such as Being, Thing, Something. These terms originated from the fact that the human body, being finite, can distinctly form only a limited number of images (which I defined in II. xvii. note) within itself at the same time; if this number is exceeded, the images will start to blur together; and if it is significantly exceeded, they will become completely indistinguishable. Given this, it’s clear (from II. Prop. xvii. Coroll., and xviii.) that the human mind can distinctly imagine as many things at once as the body can form images at once. When the images become thoroughly confused in the body, the mind also imagines all bodies in a confused manner without distinction, and will understand them generally under one attribute, namely, under the attributes of Being, Thing, etc. We can reach the same conclusion based on the fact that images are not always equally vivid, along with other similar factors, which don’t need to be explained here; for our purpose, it suffices to consider just one. Ultimately, all of these terms represent ideas that are extremely confused. Similarly, general notions like man, horse, dog, etc., arise because so many images, for example, of men, are formed simultaneously in the human mind that the imagination becomes overwhelmed, not entirely, but enough that the mind loses track of small differences between individuals (like color, size, etc.) and their exact number, only being able to clearly imagine what all of these individuals have in common, as they relate to the body; this is what each of these individuals primarily influences the body with; the mind captures this with the term man, and applies it to an infinite number of specific individuals. As mentioned, it cannot conceive of the exact number of individuals. However, we must keep in mind that these general notions are not formed the same way by everyone, but vary from person to person based on what has most frequently influenced their body and what their mind is best able to imagine or remember. For instance, those who have most often admired the stature of a person will define a man as an upright animal; those who tend to focus on a different characteristic might develop a different general image of man—such as viewing him as a laughing animal, a two-legged creature without feathers, a rational being. Thus, in various scenarios, everyone will formulate general images of things based on their bodily experiences.

It is thus not to be wondered at, that among philosophers, who seek to explain things in nature merely by the images formed of them, so many controversies should have arisen.

It’s not surprising that among philosophers, who try to explain things in nature only by the images they create of them, so many disagreements have come up.

Note II.—From all that has been said above it is clear, that we, in many cases, perceive and form our general notions:—(1.) From particular things represented to our intellect fragmentarily, confusedly, and without order through our senses (II. xxix. Coroll.); I have settled to call such perceptions by the name of knowledge from the mere suggestions of experience.[4]

Note II.—From everything mentioned above, it’s clear that we often understand and shape our general ideas:—(1.) From individual things presented to our mind in a fragmentary, confusing, and disorganized way through our senses (II. xxix. Coroll.); I have chosen to refer to such perceptions as knowledge based on mere experiences.

[4] A Baconian phrase. Nov. Org. Aph. 100. [Pollock, p. 126, n.]

[4] A Baconian phrase. Nov. Org. Aph. 100. [Pollock, p. 126, n.]


(2.) From symbols, e.g., from the fact of having read or heard certain words we remember things and form certain ideas concerning them, similar to those through which we imagine things (II. xviii. note). I shall call both these ways of regarding things knowledge of the first kind, opinion, or imagination. (3.) From the fact that we have notions common to all men, and adequate ideas of the properties of things (II. xxxviii. Coroll., xxxix. and Coroll. and xl.); this I call reason and knowledge of the second kind. Besides these two kinds of knowledge, there is, as I will hereafter show, a third kind of knowledge, which we will call intuition. This kind of knowledge proceeds from an adequate idea of the absolute essence of certain attributes of God to the adequate knowledge of the essence of things. I will illustrate all three kinds of knowledge by a single example. Three numbers are given for finding a fourth, which shall be to the third as the second is to the first. Tradesmen without hesitation multiply the second by the third, and divide the product by the first; either because they have not forgotten the rule which they received from a master without any proof, or because they have often made trial of it with simple numbers, or by virtue of the proof of the nineteenth proposition of the seventh book of Euclid, namely, in virtue of the general property of proportionals.

(2.) From symbols, like the fact that we have read or heard certain words, we remember things and form certain ideas about them, similar to how we imagine things (II. xviii. note). I’ll refer to both of these ways of understanding things as knowledge of the first kind, opinion, or imagination. (3.) From the fact that we share common concepts with everyone and have a clear understanding of the properties of things (II. xxxviii. Coroll., xxxix. and Coroll. and xl.); I call this reason and knowledge of the second kind. Besides these two kinds of knowledge, as I will show later, there is a third kind of knowledge, which we will call intuition. This type of knowledge comes from a clear understanding of the absolute essence of certain attributes of God to a clear understanding of the essence of things. I will illustrate all three kinds of knowledge with a single example. Three numbers are given to find a fourth, which will relate to the third just as the second relates to the first. Businesspeople without hesitation multiply the second by the third and divide the product by the first; either because they remember the rule they learned from a teacher without needing proof, or because they have frequently applied it with simple numbers, or because of the proof of the nineteenth proposition in the seventh book of Euclid, namely, due to the general property of proportionals.

But with very simple numbers there is no need of this. For instance, one, two, three, being given, everyone can see that the fourth proportional is six; and this is much clearer, because we infer the fourth number from an intuitive grasping of the ratio, which the first bears to the second.

But with very simple numbers, this isn't necessary. For example, if you have one, two, and three, everyone can see that the fourth proportional is six; and this is much clearer because we can easily figure out the fourth number by intuitively understanding the ratio of the first to the second.

PROP. XLI. Knowledge of the first kind is the only source of falsity, knowledge of the second and third kinds is necessarily true.

PROP. XLI. Knowledge of the first type is the only source of falsehood; knowledge of the second and third types is necessarily true.

Proof.—To knowledge of the first kind we have (in the foregoing note) assigned all those ideas, which are inadequate and confused; therefore this kind of knowledge is the only source of falsity (II. xxxv.). Furthermore, we assigned to the second and third kinds of knowledge those ideas which are adequate; therefore these kinds are necessarily true (II. xxxiv.). Q.E.D.

Proof.—To the first kind of knowledge, we have assigned all those ideas that are incomplete and unclear; therefore, this type of knowledge is the only source of falsehood (II. xxxv.). Furthermore, we assigned to the second and third kinds of knowledge those ideas that are complete; therefore, these kinds are necessarily true (II. xxxiv.). Q.E.D.

PROP. XLII. Knowledge of the second and third kinds, not knowledge of the first kind, teaches us to distinguish the true from the false.

PROP. XLII. Knowledge of the second and third kinds, not knowledge of the first kind, teaches us to tell the true from the false.

Proof.—This proposition is self—evident. He, who knows how to distinguish between true and false, must have an adequate idea of true and false. That is (II. xl., note ii.), he must know the true and the false by the second or third kind of knowledge.

Proof.—This statement is obvious. Anyone who can tell the difference between true and false must have a clear understanding of both concepts. That is, (II. xl., note ii.), they need to recognize true and false through at least the second or third level of knowledge.

PROP. XLIII. He, who has a true idea, simultaneously knows that he has a true idea, and cannot doubt of the truth of the thing perceived.

PROP. XLIII. He who has a true idea also knows that he has a true idea and cannot doubt the truth of what is perceived.

Proof.—A true idea in us is an idea which is adequate in God, in so far as he is displayed through the nature of the human mind (II. xi. Coroll.). Let us suppose that there is in God, in so far as he is displayed through the human mind, an adequate idea, A. The idea of this idea must also necessarily be in God, and be referred to him in the same way as the idea A (by II. xx., whereof the proof is of universal application). But the idea A is supposed to be referred to God, in so far as he is displayed through the human mind; therefore, the idea of the idea A must be referred to God in the same manner; that is (by II. xi. Coroll.), the adequate idea of the idea A will be in the mind, which has the adequate idea A; therefore he, who has an adequate idea or knows a thing truly (II. xxxiv.), must at the same time have an adequate idea or true knowledge of his knowledge; that is, obviously, he must be assured. Q.E.D.

Proof.—A true idea within us is one that is adequate in God, as he is revealed through the nature of the human mind (II. xi. Coroll.). Let’s assume that there exists in God, as he is revealed through the human mind, an adequate idea, A. The idea of this idea must also necessarily exist in God and be connected to him in the same way as the idea A (by II. xx., which applies universally). However, the idea A is supposed to be connected to God as he is revealed through the human mind; therefore, the idea of the idea A must be connected to God in the same way; that is (by II. xi. Coroll.), the adequate idea of the idea A will be in the mind that holds the adequate idea A. Hence, anyone who has an adequate idea or knows something truly (II. xxxiv.) must simultaneously have an adequate idea or true knowledge of their knowledge; in other words, they must be assured. Q.E.D.

Note.—I explained in the note to II. xxi. what is meant by the idea of an idea; but we may remark that the foregoing proposition is in itself sufficiently plain. No one, who has a true idea, is ignorant that a true idea involves the highest certainty. For to have a true idea is only another expression for knowing a thing perfectly, or as well as possible. No one, indeed, can doubt of this, unless he thinks that an idea is something lifeless, like a picture on a panel, and not a mode of thinking—namely, the very act of understanding. And who, I ask, can know that he understands anything, unless he do first understand it? In other words, who can know that he is sure of a thing, unless he be first sure of that thing? Further, what can there be more clear, and more certain, than a true idea as a standard of truth? Even as light displays both itself and darkness, so is truth a standard both of itself and of falsity.

Note.—I explained in the note to II. xxi. what is meant by the idea of an idea; but we can point out that the previous statement is quite clear on its own. No one who has a true idea is unaware that a true idea entails the highest level of certainty. To have a true idea is just another way of saying that one knows something completely, or as well as possible. Indeed, no one can doubt this unless they believe that an idea is something lifeless, like a picture on a canvas, rather than a way of thinking—specifically, the very act of understanding. And who, I ask, can be aware that they understand anything unless they first understand it? In other words, who can know that they are certain about something unless they are first certain about that thing? Furthermore, what could be more clear and certain than a true idea as a benchmark of truth? Just as light reveals both itself and darkness, truth serves as a standard for both itself and falsehood.

I think I have thus sufficiently answered these questions—namely, if a true idea is distinguished from a false idea, only in so far as it is said to agree with its object, a true idea has no more reality or perfection than a false idea (since the two are only distinguished by an extrinsic mark); consequently, neither will a man who has a true idea have any advantage over him who has only false ideas. Further, how comes it that men have false ideas? Lastly, how can anyone be sure, that he has ideas which agree with their objects? These questions, I repeat, I have, in my opinion, sufficiently answered. The difference between a true idea and a false idea is plain: from what was said in II. xxxv., the former is related to the latter as being is to not—being. The causes of falsity I have set forth very clearly in II. xix. and II. xxxv. with the note. From what is there stated, the difference between a man who has true ideas, and a man who has only false ideas, is made apparent. As for the last question—as to how a man can be sure that he has ideas that agree with their objects, I have just pointed out, with abundant clearness, that his knowledge arises from the simple fact, that he has an idea which corresponds with its object—in other words, that truth is its own standard. We may add that our mind, in so far as it perceives things truly, is part of the infinite intellect of God (II. xi. Coroll.); therefore, the clear and distinct ideas of the mind are as necessarily true as the ideas of God.

I think I’ve answered these questions well. If a true idea is only recognized as different from a false idea because it agrees with its object, then a true idea has the same level of reality or perfection as a false one (since they are distinguished only by an external mark); therefore, someone with a true idea doesn’t have any advantage over someone with only false ideas. Moreover, how is it that people hold false ideas? Lastly, how can anyone be sure that their ideas align with their objects? I believe I’ve answered these questions adequately. The difference between a true idea and a false idea is clear: as mentioned in II. xxxv., the former relates to the latter like being relates to non-being. I have explained the causes of falsehood very clearly in II. xix. and II. xxxv. with the note. Based on what’s stated there, the difference between a person who has true ideas and someone with only false ideas is apparent. Regarding the last question—about how someone can be sure they have ideas that correspond with their objects—I have pointed out clearly that their knowledge comes from the fact that they have an idea that matches its object—in other words, truth is its own standard. We can also add that our mind, in so far as it perceives things accurately, is part of God’s infinite intellect (II. xi. Coroll.); therefore, the clear and distinct ideas of the mind are just as necessarily true as God’s ideas.

PROP. XLIV. It is not in the nature of reason to regard things as contingent, but as necessary.

PROP. XLIV. Reason does not see things as uncertain, but as essential.

Proof.—It is in the nature of reason to perceive things truly (II. xli.), namely (I. Ax. vi.), as they are in themselves—that is (I. xxix.), not as contingent, but as necessary. Q.E.D.

Proof.—It's in the nature of reason to perceive things accurately (II. xli.), specifically (I. Ax. vi.), as they are in themselves—that is (I. xxix.), not as contingent, but as necessary. Q.E.D.

Corollary I.—Hence it follows, that it is only through our imagination that we consider things, whether in respect to the future or the past, as contingent.

Corollary I.—Therefore, it follows that we can only think of things as uncertain, whether regarding the future or the past, through our imagination.

Note.—How this way of looking at things arises, I will briefly explain. We have shown above (II. xvii. and Coroll.) that the mind always regards things as present to itself, even though they be not in existence, until some causes arise which exclude their existence and presence. Further (II. xviii.), we showed that, if the human body has once been affected by two external bodies simultaneously, the mind, when it afterwards imagines one of the said external bodies, will straightway remember the other—that is, it will regard both as present to itself, unless there arise causes which exclude their existence and presence. Further, no one doubts that we imagine time, from the fact that we imagine bodies to be moved some more slowly than others, some more quickly, some at equal speed. Thus, let us suppose that a child yesterday saw Peter for the first time in the morning, Paul at noon, and Simon in the evening; then, that today he again sees Peter in the morning. It is evident, from II. Prop. xviii., that, as soon as he sees the morning light, he will imagine that the sun will traverse the same parts of the sky, as it did when he saw it on the preceding day; in other words, he will imagine a complete day, and, together with his imagination of the morning, he will imagine Peter; with noon, he will imagine Paul; and with evening, he will imagine Simon—that is, he will imagine the existence of Paul and Simon in relation to a future time; on the other hand, if he sees Simon in the evening, he will refer Peter and Paul to a past time, by imagining them simultaneously with the imagination of a past time. If it should at any time happen, that on some other evening the child should see James instead of Simon, he will, on the following morning, associate with his imagination of evening sometimes Simon, sometimes James, not both together: for the child is supposed to have seen, at evening, one or other of them, not both together. His imagination will therefore waver; and, with the imagination of future evenings, he will associate first one, then the other—that is, he will imagine them in the future, neither of them as certain, but both as contingent. This wavering of the imagination will be the same, if the imagination be concerned with things which we thus contemplate, standing in relation to time past or time present: consequently, we may imagine things as contingent, whether they be referred to time present, past, or future.

Note.—I will briefly explain how this perspective comes about. As we've shown above (II. xvii. and Coroll.), the mind always perceives things as present to itself, even if they don't actually exist, until something occurs that rules out their existence and presence. Additionally (II. xviii.), we demonstrated that if the human body has been affected by two external things at the same time, when the mind later thinks of one of those external things, it will immediately remember the other—meaning it will see both as present to itself, unless there are reasons that negate their existence and presence. Furthermore, no one disputes that we perceive time because we notice some things moving slower than others, some faster, and some at the same speed. For instance, let's imagine that a child saw Peter for the first time yesterday morning, Paul at noon, and Simon in the evening; then today, he sees Peter again in the morning. It's clear, from II. Prop. xviii., that as soon as he sees the morning light, he will visualize the sun moving through the same parts of the sky as it did the day before; in other words, he will imagine a complete day, and along with his morning thought, he will envision Peter; at noon, he will think of Paul; and in the evening, he will think of Simon—that is, he will imagine Paul and Simon existing in relation to a future time. Conversely, if he sees Simon in the evening, he will associate Peter and Paul with the past by imagining them together with his recollection of that time. If it happens that another evening he sees James instead of Simon, the next morning he will connect his evening imagination to either Simon or James, but not both at the same time: since he’s assumed to have seen one or the other in the evening, not both. His imagination will therefore fluctuate; and when considering future evenings, he will first imagine one, then the other—this means he will envision them in the future, neither as certain, but both as possible. This fluctuation of the imagination applies whether we’re thinking about things in relation to the past or present: hence, we can imagine things as contingent, whether they relate to the present, past, or future.

Corollary II.—It is in the nature of reason to perceive things under a certain form of eternity (sub quâdam æternitatis specie).

Corollary II.—It's in the nature of reason to understand things in a certain way that relates to eternity.

Proof.—It is in the nature of reason to regard things, not as contingent, but as necessary (II. xliv.). Reason perceives this necessity of things (II. xli.) truly—that is (I. Ax. vi.), as it is in itself. But (I. xvi.) this necessity of things is the very necessity of the eternal nature of God; therefore, it is in the nature of reason to regard things under this form of eternity. We may add that the bases of reason are the notions (II. xxxviii.), which answer to things common to all, and which (II. xxxvii.) do not answer to the essence of any particular thing: which must therefore be conceived without any relation to time, under a certain form of eternity.

Proof.—Reason naturally sees things not as random, but as necessary (II. xliv.). Reason truly understands this necessity of things (II. xli.) — that is (I. Ax. vi.), as it exists in itself. However, (I. xvi.) this necessity of things reflects the very necessity of God's eternal nature; thus, it is in the nature of reason to view things through this lens of eternity. Additionally, the foundations of reason are the concepts (II. xxxviii.) that correspond to things universal to all, which (II. xxxvii.) do not pertain to the essence of any individual thing: these must therefore be understood without any reference to time, in a certain form of eternity.

PROP. XLV. Every idea of every body, or of every particular thing actually existing, necessarily involves the eternal and infinite essence of God.

PROP. XLV. Every idea of every body, or of every specific thing that actually exists, necessarily includes the eternal and infinite essence of God.

Proof.—The idea of a particular thing actually existing necessarily involves both the existence and the essence of the said thing (II. viii.). Now particular things cannot be conceived without God (I. xv.); but, inasmuch as (II. vi.) they have God for their cause, in so far as he is regarded under the attribute of which the things in question are modes, their ideas must necessarily involve (I. Ax. iv.) the conception of the attributes of those ideas—that is (I. vi.), the eternal and infinite essence of God. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The concept of a specific thing actually existing inherently includes both the existence and the essence of that thing (II. viii.). Now, specific things cannot be understood without God (I. xv.); however, since (II. vi.) they have God as their cause, as He is viewed under the attribute of which the things in question are expressions, their ideas must necessarily involve (I. Ax. iv.) the understanding of the attributes of those ideas—that is (I. vi.), the eternal and infinite essence of God. Q.E.D.

Note.—By existence I do not here mean duration—that is, existence in so far as it is conceived abstractedly, and as a certain form of quantity. I am speaking of the very nature of existence, which is assigned to particular things, because they follow in infinite numbers and in infinite ways from the eternal necessity of God's nature (I. xvi.). I am speaking, I repeat, of the very existence of particular things, in so far as they are in God. For although each particular thing be conditioned by another particular thing to exist in a given way, yet the force whereby each particular thing perseveres in existing follows from the eternal necessity of God's nature (cf. I. xxiv. Coroll.).

Note.—By existence, I don’t mean just duration—that is, existence as it is understood abstractly and as a certain form of quantity. I’m referring to the essence of existence, which is assigned to specific things because they arise in infinite numbers and in infinite ways from the eternal necessity of God’s nature (I. xvi.). I’m emphasizing the very existence of individual things, in so far as they exist in God. For even though each individual thing depends on another to exist in a specific way, the power that enables each thing to persist in existing comes from the eternal necessity of God’s nature (cf. I. xxiv. Coroll.).

PROP. XLVI. The knowledge of the eternal and infinite essence of God which every idea involves is adequate and perfect.

PROP. XLVI. The understanding of God's eternal and infinite essence, which every idea includes, is complete and flawless.

Proof.—The proof of the last proposition is universal; and whether a thing be considered as a part or a whole, the idea thereof, whether of the whole or of a part (by the last Prop.), will involve God's eternal and infinite essence. Wherefore, that, which gives knowledge of the eternal and infinite essence of God, is common to all, and is equally in the part and in the whole; therefore (II. xxxviii.) this knowledge will be adequate. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The proof of the last proposition is universal; and whether something is viewed as a part or a whole, the concept of it, whether of the whole or of a part (as stated in the last proposition), will include God's eternal and infinite essence. Therefore, what provides knowledge of the eternal and infinite essence of God is common to everyone and exists equally in both the part and the whole; thus (II. xxxviii.) this knowledge will be sufficient. Q.E.D.

PROP. XLVII. The human mind has an adequate knowledge of the eternal and infinite essence of God.

PROP. XLVII. The human mind has a sufficient understanding of the eternal and infinite nature of God.

Proof.—The human mind has ideas (II. xxii.), from which (II. xxiii.) it perceives itself and its own body (II. xix.) and external bodies (II. xvi. Coroll. i. and II. xvii.) as actually existing; therefore (II. xlv. and xlvi.) it has an adequate knowledge of the eternal and infinite essence of God. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The human mind has ideas (II. xxii.), from which (II. xxiii.) it perceives itself and its own body (II. xix.) and external objects (II. xvi. Coroll. i. and II. xvii.) as actually existing; therefore (II. xlv. and xlvi.) it has a complete understanding of the eternal and infinite essence of God. Q.E.D.

Note.—Hence we see, that the infinite essence and the eternity of God are known to all. Now as all things are in God, and are conceived through God, we can from this knowledge infer many things, which we may adequately know, and we may form that third kind of knowledge of which we spoke in the note to II. xl., and of the excellence and use of which we shall have occasion to speak in Part V. Men have not so clear a knowledge of God as they have of general notions, because they are unable to imagine God as they do bodies, and also because they have associated the name God with images of things that they are in the habit of seeing, as indeed they can hardly avoid doing, being, as they are, men, and continually affected by external bodies. Many errors, in truth, can be traced to this head, namely, that we do not apply names to things rightly. For instance, when a man says that the lines drawn from the centre of a circle to its circumference are not equal, he then, at all events, assuredly attaches a meaning to the word circle different from that assigned by mathematicians. So again, when men make mistakes in calculation, they have one set of figures in their mind, and another on the paper. If we could see into their minds, they do not make a mistake; they seem to do so, because we think, that they have the same numbers in their mind as they have on the paper. If this were not so, we should not believe them to be in error, any more than I thought that a man was in error, whom I lately heard exclaiming that his entrance hall had flown into a neighbour's hen, for his meaning seemed to me sufficiently clear. Very many controversies have arisen from the fact, that men do not rightly explain their meaning, or do not rightly interpret the meaning of others. For, as a matter of fact, as they flatly contradict themselves, they assume now one side, now another, of the argument, so as to oppose the opinions, which they consider mistaken and absurd in their opponents.

Note.—Thus we see that the infinite essence and eternity of God are known to everyone. Since everything exists in God and is understood through God, we can infer many things from this knowledge, which we can adequately grasp, and we may develop that third type of knowledge mentioned in the note to II. xl., the significance and usefulness of which we will discuss in Part V. People don’t have as clear an understanding of God as they do of general concepts because they can’t visualize God like they do physical bodies, and they also associate the name God with images of things they’re used to seeing, which is hard for them to avoid, being human and constantly influenced by external objects. Many misunderstandings can indeed be traced back to this issue: we don’t apply names to things correctly. For example, when someone says the lines drawn from the center of a circle to its edge are not equal, they are certainly attaching a different meaning to the word circle than mathematicians do. Similarly, when people make errors in calculations, they have one set of numbers in mind and another on paper. If we could see into their minds, they wouldn’t be making a mistake; it seems that way because we assume they have the same numbers in their minds as they do on paper. If this weren’t the case, we wouldn’t think they were mistaken, just as I didn’t think the man I recently heard say that his entrance hall had flown into a neighbor's hen was wrong, as his meaning was clear to me. Many arguments arise because people don’t clearly explain their meaning or fail to properly interpret the meaning of others. In fact, as they directly contradict themselves, they switch sides in the argument to oppose the views they consider incorrect and absurd in their opponents.

PROP. XLVIII. In the mind there is no absolute or free will; but the mind is determined to wish this or that by a cause, which has also been determined by another cause, and this last by another cause, and so on to infinity.

PROP. XLVIII. In the mind, there is no absolute or free will; instead, the mind is compelled to want this or that by a cause, which has also been determined by another cause, and this last cause by yet another cause, and so on endlessly.

Proof.—The mind is a fixed and definite mode of thought (II. xi.), therefore it cannot be the free cause of its actions (I. xvii. Coroll. ii.); in other words, it cannot have an absolute faculty of positive or negative volition; but (by I. xxviii.) it must be determined by a cause, which has also been determined by another cause, and this last by another, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The mind has a specific and clear way of thinking (II. xi.), so it can't freely cause its actions (I. xvii. Coroll. ii.); in other words, it doesn't have an absolute ability to choose positively or negatively; rather (according to I. xxviii.), it must be influenced by a cause that has also been influenced by another cause, and this last one by yet another, etc. Q.E.D.

Note.—In the same way it is proved, that there is in the mind no absolute faculty of understanding, desiring, loving, &c. Whence it follows, that these and similar faculties are either entirely fictitious, or are merely abstract and general terms, such as we are accustomed to put together from particular things. Thus the intellect and the will stand in the same relation to this or that idea, or this or that volition, as "lapidity" to this or that stone, or as "man" to Peter and Paul. The cause which leads men to consider themselves free has been set forth in the Appendix to Part I. But, before I proceed further, I would here remark that, by the will to affirm and decide, I mean the faculty, not the desire. I mean, I repeat, the faculty, whereby the mind affirms or denies what is true or false, not the desire, wherewith the mind wishes for or turns away from any given thing. After we have proved, that these faculties of ours are general notions, which cannot be distinguished from the particular instances on which they are based, we must inquire whether volitions themselves are anything besides the ideas of things. We must inquire, I say, whether there is in the mind any affirmation or negation beyond that, which the idea, in so far as it is an idea, involves. On which subject see the following proposition, and II. Def. iii., lest the idea of pictures should suggest itself. For by ideas I do not mean images such as are formed at the back of the eye, or in the midst of the brain, but the conceptions of thought.

Note.—In the same way, it is shown that there is no absolute capability in the mind for understanding, desiring, loving, etc. Therefore, it follows that these and similar capabilities are either completely fictional or just abstract and general terms that we put together from specific things. Thus, the intellect and the will relate to this or that idea, or to this or that desire, just as "lapidity" relates to this or that stone, or as "man" relates to Peter and Paul. The reason people believe they are free has been explained in the Appendix to Part I. But before I go further, I want to clarify that by the will to affirm and decide, I mean the ability, not the desire. I mean, I repeat, the ability that allows the mind to affirm or deny what is true or false, not the desire that makes the mind wish for or reject something. After we have demonstrated that these abilities of ours are general concepts that cannot be separated from the specific instances on which they are based, we must ask whether volitions themselves are anything more than the ideas of things. We must ask, I say, whether there is any affirmation or negation in the mind beyond what the idea, as it is an idea, implies. On this topic, see the following proposition and II. Def. iii., to avoid suggesting the idea of pictures. Because by ideas, I do not mean images formed at the back of the eye or within the brain, but the concepts of thought.

PROP. XLIX. There is in the mind no volition or affirmation and negation, save that which an idea, inasmuch as it is an idea, involves.

PROP. XLIX. There is no will or decision in the mind, except for what is implied by an idea, as far as it is an idea.

Proof.—There is in the mind no absolute faculty of positive or negative volition, but only particular volitions, namely, this or that affirmation, and this or that negation. Now let us conceive a particular volition, namely, the mode of thinking whereby the mind affirms, that the three interior angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles. This affirmation involves the conception or idea of a triangle, that is, without the idea of a triangle it cannot be conceived. It is the same thing to say, that the concept A must involve the concept B, as it is to say, that A cannot be conceived without B. Further, this affirmation cannot be made (II. Ax. iii.) without the idea of a triangle. Therefore, this affirmation can neither be nor be conceived, without the idea of a triangle. Again, this idea of a triangle must involve this same affirmation, namely, that its three interior angles are equal to two right angles. Wherefore, and vice versâ, this idea of a triangle can neither be nor be conceived without this affirmation, therefore, this affirmation belongs to the essence of the idea of a triangle, and is nothing besides. What we have said of this volition (inasmuch as we have selected it at random) may be said of any other volition, namely, that it is nothing but an idea. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The mind doesn't have a complete ability to choose positively or negatively; it only has specific choices, like this affirmation or that negation. Now, let's consider a specific choice, which is the thought that the three interior angles of a triangle equal two right angles. This affirmation requires the concept of a triangle; without the idea of a triangle, it can't be understood. It's the same to say that concept A must include concept B or that A can't be understood without B. Moreover, this affirmation can't be made (II. Ax. iii.) without the idea of a triangle. Therefore, this affirmation can't exist or be understood without the idea of a triangle. Furthermore, the idea of a triangle must include this same affirmation, which is that its three interior angles equal two right angles. Thus, this idea of a triangle also can't exist or be understood without this affirmation; therefore, this affirmation is essential to the idea of a triangle and nothing more. What we've said about this choice (since we picked it randomly) can be applied to any other choice, which is that it is simply an idea. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Will and understanding are one and the same.

Corollary.—Will and understanding are exactly the same thing.

Proof.—Will and understanding are nothing beyond the individual volitions and ideas (II. xlviii. and note). But a particular volition and a particular idea are one and the same (by the foregoing Prop.); therefore, will and understanding are one and the same. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Will and understanding are just individual choices and thoughts (II. xlviii. and note). But a specific choice and a specific thought are identical (as shown in the previous proposition); therefore, will and understanding are identical. Q.E.D.

Note.—We have thus removed the cause which is commonly assigned for error. For we have shown above, that falsity consists solely in the privation of knowledge involved in ideas which are fragmentary and confused. Wherefore, a false idea, inasmuch as it is false, does not involve certainty. When we say, then, that a man acquiesces in what is false, and that he has no doubts on the subject, we do not say that he is certain, but only that he does not doubt, or that he acquiesces in what is false, inasmuch as there are no reasons, which should cause his imagination to waver (see II. xliv. note). Thus, although the man be assumed to acquiesce in what is false, we shall never say that he is certain. For by certainty we mean something positive (II. xliii. and note), not merely the absence of doubt.

Note.—We have therefore eliminated the reason typically given for error. We have demonstrated above that falsehood consists solely in the lack of knowledge that comes with ideas that are incomplete and unclear. Thus, a false idea, by its very nature, does not involve certainty. When we say that a person accepts something false and has no doubts about it, we don't mean that he is certain; we only mean that he does not doubt, or that he accepts the falsehood because there are no reasons to make him question it (see II. xliv. note). Therefore, even if we assume that a person accepts something false, we would never say that he is certain. By certainty, we refer to something positive (II. xliii. and note), not just the absence of doubt.

However, in order that the foregoing proposition may be fully explained, I will draw attention to a few additional points, and I will furthermore answer the objections which may be advanced against our doctrine. Lastly, in order to remove every scruple, I have thought it worth while to point out some of the advantages, which follow therefrom. I say "some," for they will be better appreciated from what we shall set forth in the fifth part.

However, to fully explain the previous idea, I will highlight a few more points, and I will also address any objections that might be raised against our doctrine. Finally, to alleviate any concerns, I believe it's worthwhile to mention some of the benefits that come from it. I say "some," because they will be better understood in what we will discuss in the fifth part.

I begin, then, with the first point, and warn my readers to make an accurate distinction between an idea, or conception of the mind, and the images of things which we imagine. It is further necessary that they should distinguish between idea and words, whereby we signify things. These three—namely, images, words, and ideas—are by many persons either entirely confused together, or not distinguished with sufficient accuracy or care, and hence people are generally in ignorance, how absolutely necessary is a knowledge of this doctrine of the will, both for philosophic purposes and for the wise ordering of life. Those who think that ideas consist in images which are formed in us by contact with external bodies, persuade themselves that the ideas of those things, whereof we can form no mental picture, are not ideas, but only figments, which we invent by the free decree of our will; they thus regard ideas as though they were inanimate pictures on a panel, and, filled with this misconception, do not see that an idea, inasmuch as it is an idea, involves an affirmation or negation. Again, those who confuse words with ideas, or with the affirmation which an idea involves, think that they can wish something contrary to what they feel, affirm, or deny. This misconception will easily be laid aside by one, who reflects on the nature of knowledge, and seeing that it in no wise involves the conception of extension, will therefore clearly understand, that an idea (being a mode of thinking) does not consist in the image of anything, nor in words. The essence of words and images is put together by bodily motions, which in no wise involve the conception of thought.

I’ll start with the first point and caution my readers to clearly distinguish between an idea or thought in the mind and the images of things we imagine. It’s also essential to differentiate between ideas and the words we use to represent things. Many people mix up these three — images, words, and ideas — or don’t distinguish them with enough precision or care, leading to widespread misunderstanding about how crucial it is to understand this concept of will, both for philosophical reasons and for managing life wisely. Those who believe that ideas are just images created from our interactions with the outside world convince themselves that the ideas of things we can’t picture in our minds aren’t real ideas but mere fabrications invented by our free will; they view ideas like lifeless pictures on a canvas and, caught up in this misunderstanding, fail to recognize that an idea, by its very nature, involves an affirmation or negation. Additionally, those who confuse words with ideas, or with the affirmation contained in an idea, think they can desire something opposite to what they truly feel, affirm, or deny. This misunderstanding can easily be resolved by anyone who reflects on the nature of knowledge, realizing that it does not involve the idea of extension and thus clearly understands that an idea (as a way of thinking) does not consist of an image or words. The essence of words and images is created by physical movements, which do not capture the concept of thought.


These few words on this subject will suffice: I will therefore pass on to consider the objections, which may be raised against our doctrine. Of these, the first is advanced by those, who think that the will has a wider scope than the understanding, and that therefore it is different therefrom. The reason for their holding the belief, that the will has wider scope than the understanding, is that they assert, that they have no need of an increase in their faculty of assent, that is of affirmation or negation, in order to assent to an infinity of things which we do not perceive, but that they have need of an increase in their faculty of understanding. The will is thus distinguished from the intellect, the latter being finite and the former infinite. Secondly, it may be objected that experience seems to teach us especially clearly, that we are able to suspend our judgment before assenting to things which we perceive; this is confirmed by the fact that no one is said to be deceived, in so far as he perceives anything, but only in so far as he assents or dissents.

These few words on this subject will be enough: I will therefore move on to consider the objections that may be raised against our doctrine. The first objection comes from those who believe that the will has a broader range than the understanding, and therefore is different from it. They argue that the will's broader range means they don’t need to expand their ability to affirm or deny in order to agree with countless things that we don’t perceive, but they do need to enhance their understanding. So, they see the will as distinct from the intellect, with the latter being limited and the former being unlimited. Secondly, it could be argued that experience seems to clearly show us that we can hold off on making judgments before agreeing with things we perceive; this is backed up by the fact that no one is said to be deceived just because they perceive something, but only when they agree or disagree.

For instance, he who feigns a winged horse, does not therefore admit that a winged horse exists; that is, he is not deceived, unless he admits in addition that a winged horse does exist. Nothing therefore seems to be taught more clearly by experience, than that the will or faculty of assent is free and different from the faculty of understanding. Thirdly, it may be objected that one affirmation does not apparently contain more reality than another; in other words, that we do not seem to need for affirming, that what is true is true, any greater power than for affirming, that what is false is true. We have, however, seen that one idea has more reality or perfection than another, for as objects are some more excellent than others, so also are the ideas of them some more excellent than others; this also seems to point to a difference between the understanding and the will. Fourthly, it may be objected, if man does not act from free will, what will happen if the incentives to action are equally balanced, as in the case of Buridan's ass? Will he perish of hunger and thirst? If I say that he would, I shall seem to have in my thoughts an ass or the statue of a man rather than an actual man. If I say that he would not, he would then determine his own action, and would consequently possess the faculty of going and doing whatever he liked. Other objections might also be raised, but, as I am not bound to put in evidence everything that anyone may dream, I will only set myself to the task of refuting those I have mentioned, and that as briefly as possible.

For example, someone who pretends a winged horse exists doesn't necessarily believe that a winged horse actually exists; in other words, he isn’t fooled unless he also believes that a winged horse really does exist. Nothing seems clearer from experience than that our will or ability to agree is free and distinct from our ability to understand. Thirdly, one might argue that one statement doesn’t seem to hold any more reality than another; that is, we don’t seem to need any greater power to affirm that what is true is true than we do to affirm that what is false is true. However, we have observed that one idea has more reality or perfection than another because just as some objects are more excellent than others, the ideas of those objects are also ranked in terms of excellence; this suggests a difference between understanding and will. Fourthly, one might ask, if humans don’t act from free will, what happens if the motivations to act are equally matched, like in the case of Buridan's ass? Would it starve from hunger and thirst? If I say it would, I seem to be thinking of a donkey or a statue rather than a real person. If I say it wouldn’t, then it would be able to decide its own actions, thus having the ability to do whatever it wanted. Other objections could also be raised, but since I’m not obligated to address every possible argument, I will focus on refuting only the ones I've mentioned, and I’ll do so as briefly as possible.

To the first objection I answer, that I admit that the will has a wider scope than the understanding, if by the understanding be meant only clear and distinct ideas; but I deny that the will has a wider scope than the perceptions, and the faculty of forming conceptions; nor do I see why the faculty of volition should be called infinite, any more than the faculty of feeling: for, as we are able by the same faculty of volition to affirm an infinite number of things (one after the other, for we cannot affirm an infinite number simultaneously), so also can we, by the same faculty of feeling, feel or perceive (in succession) an infinite number of bodies. If it be said that there is an infinite number of things which we cannot perceive, I answer, that we cannot attain to such things by any thinking, nor, consequently, by any faculty of volition. But, it may still be urged, if God wished to bring it about that we should perceive them, he would be obliged to endow us with a greater faculty of perception, but not a greater faculty of volition than we have already. This is the same as to say that, if God wished to bring it about that we should understand an infinite number of other entities, it would be necessary for him to give us a greater understanding, but not a more universal idea of entity than that which we have already, in order to grasp such infinite entities. We have shown that will is a universal entity or idea, whereby we explain all particular volitions—in other words, that which is common to all such volitions.

To the first objection, I respond that I agree the will has a broader range than understanding, if understanding is defined as just clear and distinct ideas. However, I disagree that the will has a wider scope than perceptions and the ability to form concepts. I don't see why the ability to make choices should be considered infinite, any more than the ability to feel. Just as we can affirm an infinite number of things one at a time (since we can't affirm an infinite number all at once) using the same faculty of volition, we can also feel or perceive an infinite number of things in succession with the same faculty of feeling. If it's claimed that there are infinite things we can't perceive, I respond that we can't reach those things through any thought process, nor through any ability to make choices. Still, one might argue that if God wanted us to perceive them, He would need to give us a greater ability to perceive but not a greater ability to will than what we already have. This is similar to saying that if God wanted us to understand an infinite number of other entities, He would need to give us a greater understanding, but not a more universal idea of an entity than what we already have, in order to grasp such infinite entities. We have demonstrated that will is a universal idea, through which we explain all specific volitions—in other words, that which is common to all such volitions.

As, then, our opponents maintain that this idea, common or universal to all volitions, is a faculty, it is little to be wondered at that they assert, that such a faculty extends itself into the infinite, beyond the limits of the understanding: for what is universal is predicated alike of one, of many, and of an infinite number of individuals.

As our opponents claim that this idea, which is common to all choices, is a faculty, it's not surprising that they say this faculty extends infinitely, beyond what we can understand. After all, what is universal applies equally to one, many, and an infinite number of individuals.

To the second objection I reply by denying, that we have a free power of suspending our judgment: for, when we say that anyone suspends his judgment, we merely mean that he sees, that he does not perceive the matter in question adequately. Suspension of judgment is, therefore, strictly speaking, a perception, and not free will. In order to illustrate the point, let us suppose a boy imagining a horse, and perceive nothing else. Inasmuch as this imagination involves the existence of the horse (II. xvii. Coroll.), and the boy does not perceive anything which would exclude the existence of the horse, he will necessarily regard the horse as present: he will not be able to doubt of its existence, although he be not certain thereof. We have daily experience of such a state of things in dreams; and I do not suppose that there is anyone, who would maintain that, while he is dreaming, he has the free power of suspending his judgment concerning the things in his dream, and bringing it about that he should not dream those things, which he dreams that he sees; yet it happens, notwithstanding, that even in dreams we suspend our judgment, namely, when we dream that we are dreaming.

To the second objection, I respond by denying that we have the free ability to suspend our judgment. When we say that someone suspends their judgment, we simply mean that they realize they don't fully understand the issue at hand. So, suspension of judgment is, strictly speaking, a perception and not an act of free will. To illustrate this point, let's imagine a boy picturing a horse and not perceiving anything else. Since this imagination implies the horse's existence (II. xvii. Coroll.), and the boy does not see anything that would suggest the horse doesn't exist, he will inevitably think the horse is present. He won't be able to doubt its existence, even if he's not entirely sure about it. We often experience similar situations in dreams; I doubt anyone would argue that while dreaming, they have the free choice to suspend their judgment about the things they dream about and prevent themselves from dreaming of what they see. Yet, it does happen that even in dreams, we suspend our judgment, specifically when we dream that we are dreaming.

Further, I grant that no one can be deceived, so far as actual perception extends—that is, I grant that the mind's imaginations, regarded in themselves, do not involve error (II. xvii. note); but I deny, that a man does not, in the act of perception, make any affirmation. For what is the perception of a winged horse, save affirming that a horse has wings? If the mind could perceive nothing else but the winged horse, it would regard the same as present to itself: it would have no reasons for doubting its existence, nor any faculty of dissent, unless the imagination of a winged horse be joined to an idea which precludes the existence of the said horse, or unless the mind perceives that the idea which it possess of a winged horse is inadequate, in which case it will either necessarily deny the existence of such a horse, or will necessarily be in doubt on the subject.

Additionally, I acknowledge that no one can be misled as far as actual perception goes—that is, I acknowledge that the mind's imaginations, when viewed on their own, do not involve error (II. xvii. note); however, I disagree that a person does not make any assertion in the act of perception. Because what is the perception of a winged horse, if not affirming that a horse has wings? If the mind could only perceive the winged horse, it would consider it as present to itself: it would have no reasons to doubt its existence, nor any ability to disagree, unless the idea of a winged horse is combined with another idea that denies the existence of such a horse, or unless the mind realizes that the concept it has of a winged horse is inadequate, in which case it would either certainly deny the existence of such a horse or be left in doubt about it.

I think that I have anticipated my answer to the third objection, namely, that the will is something universal which is predicated of all ideas, and that it only signifies that which is common to all ideas, namely, an affirmation, whose adequate essence must, therefore, in so far as it is thus conceived in the abstract, be in every idea, and be, in this respect alone, the same in all, not in so far as it is considered as constituting the idea's essence: for, in this respect, particular affirmations differ one from the other, as much as do ideas. For instance, the affirmation which involves the idea of a circle, differs from that which involves the idea of a triangle, as much as the idea of a circle differs from the idea of a triangle.

I believe I've already addressed my response to the third objection, which is that the will is a universal concept that applies to all ideas. It represents what is common among all ideas, specifically an affirmation. This affirmation, understood abstractly, must exist in every idea and be the same in this regard, but not when considering the essence of the idea itself. In that sense, individual affirmations differ as much as the ideas do. For example, the affirmation that pertains to the idea of a circle is different from the one related to the idea of a triangle, just as the idea of a circle differs from the idea of a triangle.

Further, I absolutely deny, that we are in need of an equal power of thinking, to affirm that that which is true is true, and to affirm that that which is false is true. These two affirmations, if we regard the mind, are in the same relation to one another as being and not—being; for there is nothing positive in ideas, which constitutes the actual reality of falsehood (II. xxxv. note, and xlvii. note).

Further, I completely deny that we need equal power of thought to affirm that something true is true and to claim that something false is true. These two statements, when we consider the mind, are related to each other in the same way as being and not being; because there’s nothing inherent in ideas that defines the actual reality of falsehood (II. xxxv. note, and xlvii. note).

We must therefore conclude, that we are easily deceived, when we confuse universals with singulars, and the entities of reason and abstractions with realities. As for the fourth objection, I am quite ready to admit, that a man placed in the equilibrium described (namely, as perceiving nothing but hunger and thirst, a certain food and a certain drink, each equally distant from him) would die of hunger and thirst. If I am asked, whether such an one should not rather be considered an ass than a man; I answer, that I do not know, neither do I know how a man should be considered, who hangs himself, or how we should consider children, fools, madmen, &c.

We must therefore conclude that we are easily misled when we confuse general concepts with specific instances, and abstract ideas with real things. Regarding the fourth objection, I'm willing to agree that a person in the situation described (specifically, someone who only feels hunger and thirst, with a certain food and drink equally far away) would eventually die from hunger and thirst. If someone asks whether that person should be seen as more like a donkey than a human, I would say I don't know. I also don't know how to interpret someone who takes their own life, or how we should view children, fools, mad people, etc.

It remains to point out the advantages of a knowledge of this doctrine as bearing on conduct, and this may be easily gathered from what has been said. The doctrine is good,

It’s important to highlight the benefits of understanding this doctrine in relation to behavior, which can be easily understood from what has been discussed. The doctrine is valuable,

1. Inasmuch as it teaches us to act solely according to the decree of God, and to be partakers in the Divine nature, and so much the more, as we perform more perfect actions and more and more understand God. Such a doctrine not only completely tranquilizes our spirit, but also shows us where our highest happiness or blessedness is, namely, solely in the knowledge of God, whereby we are led to act only as love and piety shall bid us. We may thus clearly understand, how far astray from a true estimate of virtue are those who expect to be decorated by God with high rewards for their virtue, and their best actions, as for having endured the direst slavery; as if virtue and the service of God were not in itself happiness and perfect freedom.

1. Since it teaches us to act only according to God’s will and to be part of the Divine nature, especially as we perform better actions and come to understand God more. This teaching not only brings peace to our spirit but also shows us that our greatest happiness comes solely from knowing God, which guides us to act as love and piety inspire us. We can clearly see how misguided those are who expect to be rewarded by God for their virtues and best actions, as if enduring the worst suffering were the path to virtue; as if virtue and serving God weren’t already sources of happiness and true freedom.

2. Inasmuch as it teaches us, how we ought to conduct ourselves with respect to the gifts of fortune, or matters which are not in our power, and do not follow from our nature. For it shows us, that we should await and endure fortune's smiles or frowns with an equal mind, seeing that all things follow from the eternal decree of God by the same necessity, as it follows from the essence of a triangle, that the three angles are equal to two right angles.

2. As it teaches us how we should behave regarding the gifts of fortune or things beyond our control, which don't stem from our nature. It shows us that we should wait for and endure fortune's blessings or challenges with a steady mindset, understanding that everything comes from God's eternal plan with the same inevitability as a triangle's three angles adding up to two right angles.

3. This doctrine raises social life, inasmuch as it teaches us to hate no man, neither to despise, to deride, to envy, or to be angry with any. Further, as it tells us that each should be content with his own, and helpful to his neighbour, not from any womanish pity, favour, or superstition, but solely by the guidance of reason, according as the time and occasion demand, as I will show in Part III.

3. This principle elevates social life by teaching us to hate no one, nor to look down on, mock, envy, or be angry with anyone. Furthermore, it encourages us to be satisfied with what we have and to help our neighbors, not out of weakness, favoritism, or superstition, but strictly through reason, according to what the situation and context require, as I will demonstrate in Part III.

4. Lastly, this doctrine confers no small advantage on the commonwealth; for it teaches how citizens should be governed and led, not so as to become slaves, but so that they may freely do whatsoever things are best.

4. Lastly, this idea provides a significant benefit to the community; it shows how citizens should be governed and guided, not to become submissive, but so they can freely pursue what is truly best.

I have thus fulfilled the promise made at the beginning of this note, and I thus bring the second part of my treatise to a close. I think I have therein explained the nature and properties of the human mind at sufficient length, and, considering the difficulty of the subject, with sufficient clearness. I have laid a foundation, whereon may be raised many excellent conclusions of the highest utility and most necessary to be known, as will, in what follows, be partly made plain.

I have now fulfilled the promise I made at the start of this note, and I hereby wrap up the second part of my treatise. I believe I have explained the nature and characteristics of the human mind in enough detail and, given the complexity of the topic, with enough clarity. I have laid a foundation upon which many valuable conclusions can be built, which are essential to understand, as will be partly clarified in the following sections.




PART III.

ON THE ORIGIN AND NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS

Most writers on the emotions and on human conduct seem to be treating rather of matters outside nature than of natural phenomena following nature's general laws. They appear to conceive man to be situated in nature as a kingdom within a kingdom: for they believe that he disturbs rather than follows nature's order, that he has absolute control over his actions, and that he is determined solely by himself. They attribute human infirmities and fickleness, not to the power of nature in general, but to some mysterious flaw in the nature of man, which accordingly they bemoan, deride, despise, or, as usually happens, abuse: he, who succeeds in hitting off the weakness of the human mind more eloquently or more acutely than his fellows, is looked upon as a seer. Still there has been no lack of very excellent men (to whose toil and industry I confess myself much indebted), who have written many noteworthy things concerning the right way of life, and have given much sage advice to mankind. But no one, so far as I know, has defined the nature and strength of the emotions, and the power of the mind against them for their restraint.

Most writers on emotions and human behavior seem to focus more on things outside of nature than on natural phenomena that follow nature's general laws. They seem to think of humans as a kingdom within a kingdom, believing that we disrupt rather than adhere to nature's order, that we have absolute control over our actions, and that we are solely determined by ourselves. They attribute human weaknesses and inconsistencies not to the broad power of nature but to some mysterious flaw in human nature, which they often lament, mock, despise, or, as often happens, criticize: anyone who accurately captures the weaknesses of the human mind more eloquently or insightfully than others is regarded as a visionary. Still, there have been many remarkable individuals (to whose efforts and hard work I am greatly indebted) who have written significant works about the right way to live and have offered valuable advice to humanity. However, to my knowledge, no one has defined the nature and strength of emotions and the power of the mind to restrain them.

I do not forget, that the illustrious Descartes, though he believed, that the mind has absolute power over its actions, strove to explain human emotions by their primary causes, and, at the same time, to point out a way, by which the mind might attain to absolute dominion over them. However, in my opinion, he accomplishes nothing beyond a display of the acuteness of his own great intellect, as I will show in the proper place. For the present I wish to revert to those, who would rather abuse or deride human emotions than understand them. Such persons will, doubtless think it strange that I should attempt to treat of human vice and folly geometrically, and should wish to set forth with rigid reasoning those matters which they cry out against as repugnant to reason, frivolous, absurd, and dreadful. However, such is my plan. Nothing comes to pass in nature, which can be set down to a flaw therein; for nature is always the same, and everywhere one and the same in her efficacy and power of action; that is, nature's laws and ordinances, whereby all things come to pass and change from one form to another, are everywhere and always the same; so that there should be one and the same method of understanding the nature of all things whatsoever, namely, through nature's universal laws and rules. Thus the passions of hatred, anger, envy, and so on, considered in themselves, follow from this same necessity and efficacy of nature; they answer to certain definite causes, through which they are understood, and possess certain properties as worthy of being known as the properties of anything else, whereof the contemplation in itself affords us delight. I shall, therefore, treat of the nature and strength of the emotions according to the same method, as I employed heretofore in my investigations concerning God and the mind. I shall consider human actions and desires in exactly the same manner, as though I were concerned with lines, planes, and solids.

I don't forget that the remarkable Descartes, even though he believed that the mind has complete control over its actions, tried to explain human emotions by their fundamental causes and also indicated a way for the mind to gain full control over them. However, in my view, he achieves nothing beyond showcasing the brilliance of his own intellect, as I will demonstrate in due time. For now, I want to return to those who prefer to criticize or mock human emotions rather than understand them. These individuals will likely find it odd that I would attempt to analyze human vice and folly in a mathematical way, wanting to present, through strict reasoning, those issues they argue are unreasonable, trivial, absurd, and alarming. Nevertheless, that is my approach. Nothing occurs in nature that can be attributed to a flaw; nature is always consistent, and everywhere it functions with the same efficiency and power of action. Nature's laws and principles, according to which everything happens and transforms from one state to another, are constant and universal; hence, there should be a single method to understand the nature of all things: through nature's universal laws and principles. Thus, the passions of hatred, anger, envy, and so forth arise from this same necessity and effectiveness of nature; they correspond to specific causes through which they can be understood and have certain characteristics worth knowing, just like the properties of anything else, which, when contemplated, can bring us joy. Therefore, I will discuss the nature and intensity of the emotions using the same method I applied in my previous studies about God and the mind. I will examine human actions and desires in exactly the same way as if I were dealing with lines, planes, and solids.


DEFINITIONS

I. By an adequate cause, I mean a cause through which its effect can be clearly and distinctly perceived. By an inadequate or partial cause, I mean a cause through which, by itself, its effect cannot be understood.

I. By an adequate cause, I mean a cause through which its effect can be clearly and distinctly seen. By an inadequate or partial cause, I mean a cause through which, on its own, its effect cannot be understood.

II. I say that we act when anything takes place, either within us or externally to us, whereof we are the adequate cause; that is (by the foregoing definition) when through our nature something takes place within us or externally to us, which can through our nature alone be clearly and distinctly understood. On the other hand, I say that we are passive as regards something when that something takes place within us, or follows from our nature externally, we being only the partial cause.

II. I say that we take action when something happens, either inside us or outside us, where we are the main cause; that is (based on the definition above) when, because of our nature, something occurs within us or externally that can be clearly and distinctly understood through our nature alone. On the other hand, I say that we are passive with respect to something when that something happens within us or results from our nature externally, and we are only a partial cause.

III. By emotion I mean the modifications of the body, whereby the active power of the said body is increased or diminished, aided or constrained, and also the ideas of such modifications.

III. By emotion, I mean the changes in the body that increase or decrease its active power, either helping or restricting it, along with the thoughts related to those changes.

N.B. If we can be the adequate cause of any of these modifications, I then call the emotion an activity, otherwise I call it a passion, or state wherein the mind is passive.

N.B. If we can be the sufficient cause of any of these changes, I then refer to the emotion as an activity; otherwise, I call it a passion, or a state in which the mind is passive.


POSTULATES

I. The human body can be affected in many ways, whereby its power of activity is increased or diminished, and also in other ways which do not render its power of activity either greater or less.

I. The human body can be influenced in various ways, which can enhance or reduce its ability to function, as well as in other ways that don't change its ability to function at all.

N.B. This postulate or axiom rests on Postulate i. and Lemmas v. and vii., which see after II. xiii.

N.B. This assumption or principle is based on Postulate i. and Lemmas v. and vii., which can be found after II. xiii.

II. The human body can undergo many changes, and, nevertheless, retain the impressions or traces of objects (cf. II. Post. v.), and, consequently, the same images of things (see note II. xvii.).

II. The human body can go through many changes and still keep the impressions or traces of objects (cf. II. Post. v.), and, as a result, the same images of things (see note II. xvii.).

PROP. I. Our mind is in certain cases active, and in certain cases passive. In so far as it has adequate ideas it is necessarily active, and in so far as it has inadequate ideas, it is necessarily passive.

PROP. I. Our mind is sometimes active and sometimes passive. When it has clear, adequate ideas, it is necessarily active, and when it has unclear, inadequate ideas, it is necessarily passive.

Proof.—In every human mind there are some adequate ideas, and some ideas that are fragmentary and confused (II. xl. note). Those ideas which are adequate in the mind are adequate also in God, inasmuch as he constitutes the essence of the mind (II. xl. Coroll.), and those which are inadequate in the mind are likewise (by the same Coroll.) adequate in God, not inasmuch as he contains in himself the essence of the given mind alone, but as he, at the same time, contains the minds of other things. Again, from any given idea some effect must necessarily follow (I. 36); of this effect God is the adequate cause (III. Def. i.), not inasmuch as he is infinite, but inasmuch as he is conceived as affected by the given idea (II. ix.). But of that effect whereof God is the cause, inasmuch as he is affected by an idea which is adequate in a given mind, of that effect, I repeat, the mind in question is the adequate cause (II. xi. Coroll.). Therefore our mind, in so far as it has adequate ideas (III. Def. ii.), is in certain cases necessarily active; this was our first point. Again, whatsoever necessarily follows from the idea which is adequate in God, not by virtue of his possessing in himself the mind of one man only, but by virtue of his containing, together with the mind of that one man, the minds of other things also, of such an effect (II. xi. Coroll.) the mind of the given man is not an adequate, but only a partial cause; thus (III. Def. ii.) the mind, inasmuch as it has inadequate ideas, is in certain cases necessarily passive; this was our second point. Therefore our mind, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—In every human mind, there are some clear ideas and some that are unclear and confused (II. xl. note). The clear ideas in the mind are also clear in God since He is the essence of the mind (II. xl. Coroll.). The unclear ideas in the mind are also clear in God, not just because He contains the essence of that specific mind, but because He also encompasses the minds of other things. Furthermore, from any given idea, some effect must necessarily follow (I. 36); God is the adequate cause of this effect (III. Def. i.) not because He is infinite, but because He is considered as being influenced by the given idea (II. ix.). However, regarding that effect for which God is the cause, because He is influenced by an idea that is clear in a specific mind, the mind in question is the adequate cause of that effect (II. xi. Coroll.). Therefore, our mind, insofar as it has clear ideas (III. Def. ii.), is necessarily active in certain cases; this was our first point. Additionally, whatever necessarily follows from the idea that is clear in God—not because He only possesses the mind of one person, but because He contains, in addition to that one person’s mind, the minds of other things—regarding such an effect (II. xi. Coroll.), the mind of the given person is not an adequate but only a partial cause; thus (III. Def. ii.), the mind, as it has unclear ideas, is necessarily passive in certain circumstances; this was our second point. Therefore, our mind, etc. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Hence it follows that the mind is more or less liable to be acted upon, in proportion as it possesses inadequate ideas, and, contrariwise, is more or less active in proportion as it possesses adequate ideas.

Corollary.—This means that the mind is more or less influenced by outside forces depending on how many inadequate ideas it has, and on the flip side, it is more or less engaged based on how many adequate ideas it has.

PROP. II. Body cannot determine mind to think, neither can mind determine body to motion or rest or any state different from these, if such there be.

PROP. II. The body cannot make the mind think, nor can the mind make the body move or stay still or any other state different from these, if such states exist.

Proof.—All modes of thinking have for their cause God, by virtue of his being a thinking thing, and not by virtue of his being displayed under any other attribute (II. vi.). That, therefore, which determines the mind to thought is a mode of thought, and not a mode of extension; that is (II. Def. i.), it is not body. This was our first point. Again, the motion and rest of a body must arise from another body, which has also been determined to a state of motion or rest by a third body, and absolutely everything which takes place in a body must spring from God, in so far as he is regarded as affected by some mode of extension, and not by some mode of thought (II. vi.); that is, it cannot spring from the mind, which is a mode of thought. This was our second point. Therefore body cannot determine mind, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—All ways of thinking come from God, because He is a thinking being, not because He is defined by any other characteristic (II. vi.). So, what drives the mind to think is a mode of thought, not a mode of extension; in other words (II. Def. i.), it is not physical. That was our first point. Furthermore, the motion and stillness of a body must come from another body, which has also been influenced to move or be still by a third body, and everything that happens in a body must come from God, as He is seen as affected by some mode of extension, not by some mode of thought (II. vi.); in other words, it cannot come from the mind, which is a mode of thought. That was our second point. Therefore, the body cannot influence the mind, etc. Q.E.D.

Note.—This is made more clear by what was said in the note to II. vii., namely, that mind and body are one and the same thing, conceived first under the attribute of thought, secondly, under the attribute of extension. Thus it follows that the order or concatenation of things is identical, whether nature be conceived under the one attribute or the other; consequently the order of states of activity and passivity in our body is simultaneous in nature with the order of states of activity and passivity in the mind. The same conclusion is evident from the manner in which we proved II. xii.

Note.—This is made clearer by what was mentioned in the note to II. vii., which states that mind and body are essentially the same thing, viewed first through the lens of thought, and second through the lens of physical form. Therefore, the order or connection of things remains the same, whether nature is understood in one way or the other; as a result, the sequence of active and passive states in our body is naturally simultaneous with the sequence of active and passive states in the mind. The same conclusion is evident from how we proved II. xii.

Nevertheless, though such is the case, and though there be no further room for doubt, I can scarcely believe, until the fact is proved by experience, that men can be induced to consider the question calmly and fairly, so firmly are they convinced that it is merely at the bidding of the mind, that the body is set in motion or at rest, or performs a variety of actions depending solely on the mind's will or the exercise of thought. However, no one has hitherto laid down the limits to the powers of the body, that is, no one has as yet been taught by experience what the body can accomplish solely by the laws of nature, in so far as she is regarded as extension. No one hitherto has gained such an accurate knowledge of the bodily mechanism, that he can explain all its functions; nor need I call attention to the fact that many actions are observed in the lower animals, which far transcend human sagacity, and that somnambulists do many things in their sleep, which they would not venture to do when awake: these instances are enough to show, that the body can by the sole laws of its nature do many things which the mind wonders at.

However, even though this is the case, and there is no more room for doubt, I can hardly believe, until it's proven by experience, that people can be persuaded to think about the issue calmly and fairly. They are so convinced that the body only moves or rests based on the mind's command or the exercise of thought. Yet, no one has set clear limits on the body's capabilities; no one has yet learned from experience what the body can achieve purely through natural laws, as it relates to extension. No one has gained such precise knowledge of the body's mechanics that they can explain all of its functions. It's also worth noting that many actions seen in lower animals surpass human intelligence, and that sleepwalkers do things in their sleep that they wouldn't do when awake. These examples are enough to show that the body can perform many actions purely based on its natural laws, which the mind finds astonishing.

Again, no one knows how or by what means the mind moves the body, nor how many various degrees of motion it can impart to the body, nor how quickly it can move it. Thus, when men say that this or that physical action has its origin in the mind, which latter has dominion over the body, they are using words without meaning, or are confessing in specious phraseology that they are ignorant of the cause of the said action, and do not wonder at it.

Again, no one knows how or by what means the mind moves the body, nor the different degrees of motion it can give to the body, nor how fast it can move it. So, when people claim that this or that physical action comes from the mind, which rules over the body, they are either speaking without understanding or admitting in fancy words that they don't know the cause of the action and aren't surprised by it.

But, they will say, whether we know or do not know the means whereby the mind acts on the body, we have, at any rate, experience of the fact that unless the human mind is in a fit state to think, the body remains inert. Moreover, we have experience, that the mind alone can determine whether we speak or are silent, and a variety of similar states which, accordingly, we say depend on the mind's decree. But, as to the first point, I ask such objectors, whether experience does not also teach, that if the body be inactive the mind is simultaneously unfitted for thinking? For when the body is at rest in sleep, the mind simultaneously is in a state of torpor also, and has no power of thinking, such as it possesses when the body is awake. Again, I think everyone's experience will confirm the statement, that the mind is not at all times equally fit for thinking on a given subject, but according as the body is more or less fitted for being stimulated by the image of this or that object, so also is the mind more or less fitted for contemplating the said object.

But they'll argue that regardless of whether we understand how the mind interacts with the body, we can, at the very least, observe that if the human mind isn't in the right state to think, the body stays inactive. Moreover, we know that the mind alone decides whether we talk or stay silent, along with many similar situations that we claim depend on the mind's decisions. However, regarding the first point, I ask those critics whether experience doesn’t also show that if the body is inactive, the mind is also unfit for thinking? Because when the body is at rest during sleep, the mind is also in a state of sluggishness and lacks the ability to think, unlike when the body is awake. Additionally, I think everyone’s experiences will support the idea that the mind isn’t always equally ready to think about a particular subject; rather, the body’s readiness to react to this or that object affects how prepared the mind is to contemplate that object.

But, it will be urged, it is impossible that solely from the laws of nature considered as extended substance, we should be able to deduce the causes of buildings, pictures, and things of that kind, which are produced only by human art; nor would the human body, unless it were determined and led by the mind, be capable of building a single temple. However, I have just pointed out that the objectors cannot fix the limits of the body's power, or say what can be concluded from a consideration of its sole nature, whereas they have experience of many things being accomplished solely by the laws of nature, which they would never have believed possible except under the direction of mind: such are the actions performed by somnambulists while asleep, and wondered at by their performers when awake. I would further call attention to the mechanism of the human body, which far surpasses in complexity all that has been put together by human art, not to repeat what I have already shown, namely, that from nature, under whatever attribute she be considered, infinite results follow. As for the second objection, I submit that the world would be much happier, if men were as fully able to keep silence as they are to speak. Experience abundantly shows that men can govern anything more easily than their tongues, and restrain anything more easily than their appetites; when it comes about that many believe, that we are only free in respect to objects which we moderately desire, because our desire for such can easily be controlled by the thought of something else frequently remembered, but that we are by no means free in respect to what we seek with violent emotion, for our desire cannot then be allayed with the remembrance of anything else. However, unless such persons had proved by experience that we do many things which we afterwards repent of, and again that we often, when assailed by contrary emotions, see the better and follow the worse, there would be nothing to prevent their believing that we are free in all things. Thus an infant believes that of its own free will it desires milk, an angry child believes that it freely desires vengeance, a timid child believes that it freely desires to run away; further, a drunken man believes that he utters from the free decision of his mind words which, when he is sober, he would willingly have withheld: thus, too, a delirious man, a garrulous woman, a child, and others of like complexion, believe that they speak from the free decision of their mind, when they are in reality unable to restrain their impulse to talk. Experience teaches us no less clearly than reason, that men believe themselves to be free, simply because they are conscious of their actions, and unconscious of the causes whereby those actions are determined; and, further, it is plain that the dictates of the mind are but another name for the appetites, and therefore vary according to the varying state of the body. Everyone shapes his actions according to his emotion, those who are assailed by conflicting emotions know not what they wish; those who are not attacked by any emotion are readily swayed this way or that. All these considerations clearly show that a mental decision and a bodily appetite, or determined state, are simultaneous, or rather are one and the same thing, which we call decision, when it is regarded under and explained through the attribute of thought, and a conditioned state, when it is regarded under the attribute of extension, and deduced from the laws of motion and rest. This will appear yet more plainly in the sequel. For the present I wish to call attention to another point, namely, that we cannot act by the decision of the mind, unless we have a remembrance of having done so. For instance, we cannot say a word without remembering that we have done so. Again, it is not within the free power of the mind to remember or forget a thing at will. Therefore the freedom of the mind must in any case be limited to the power of uttering or not uttering something which it remembers. But when we dream that we speak, we believe that we speak from a free decision of the mind, yet we do not speak, or, if we do, it is by a spontaneous motion of the body. Again, we dream that we are concealing something, and we seem to act from the same decision of the mind as that, whereby we keep silence when awake concerning something we know. Lastly, we dream that from the free decision of our mind we do something, which we should not dare to do when awake.

But it can be argued that it's impossible to deduce the causes of buildings, paintings, and other creations that only human art can produce solely from the laws of nature as extended substance; nor could the human body build a single temple without being guided by the mind. However, I have pointed out that those objecting cannot define the limits of the body's abilities or say what can be concluded just from its inherent nature. They have witnessed many achievements that seem solely from the laws of nature, which they wouldn’t have thought possible without the mind's direction: like the actions performed by sleepwalkers while they are asleep, and which surprise them when they wake up. I’d also like to highlight the complexity of the human body, which far exceeds anything made by human craftsmanship, not to mention that from nature—considering any aspect of it—endless outcomes can emerge. Regarding the second objection, I propose that the world would be much happier if people could keep quiet as easily as they can talk. Experience shows clearly that people can control almost anything more easily than their tongues and restrain anything more easily than their desires. Many believe that we are only free concerning things that we moderately desire because we can easily control those desires by thinking about something else frequently, while we are not free at all regarding things we seek with intense emotions because our desires can't be calmed by thinking of anything else. However, if those people hadn’t experienced that we often do things we later regret, and also often, when faced with conflicting emotions, see the better option and still choose the worse, there would be nothing preventing them from believing we are free in all things. Just as an infant believes it freely desires milk, an angry child thinks it freely desires vengeance, and a timid child believes it freely desires to run away; also, a drunk person thinks they express freely chosen words they would have wished to hold back when sober. Similarly, a person in delirium, a talkative woman, a child, and others like them believe they speak from a freely made decision, while they are really unable to control their urge to talk. Experience teaches us as clearly as reason does that people think they are free simply because they are aware of their actions but unaware of the causes that determine those actions; it’s clear that the commands of the mind are just another name for desires, and therefore change with the body's varying states. Everyone acts according to their emotions; those facing conflicting emotions don’t know what they truly want; and those without any emotion can be easily swayed in either direction. All these points illustrate that a mental decision and a bodily desire, or determined state, happen at the same time, or rather are the same thing, which we call a decision when viewed through the lens of thought, and a conditioned state when viewed through the lens of physicality, deduced from the laws of motion and rest. This will become even clearer later. For now, I want to emphasize another point: we cannot act based on the mind's decision unless we remember having done so. For example, we can’t say a word without recalling that we have done so. Additionally, the mind doesn’t have the free power to willfully remember or forget something. Therefore, the mind's freedom must be limited to the ability to express or withhold something it remembers. Yet, when we dream that we are speaking, we think we are doing so from a free decision of the mind, but we aren’t speaking, or if we are, it’s through spontaneous bodily movement. Similarly, we might dream that we are hiding something, and we seem to act from the same decision of the mind as we would when we choose to remain silent about something we know while awake. Lastly, we dream that, from the free decision of our mind, we’re doing something we wouldn’t dare to do when awake.

Now I should like to know whether there be in the mind two sorts of decisions, one sort illusive, and the other sort free? If our folly does not carry us so far as this, we must necessarily admit, that the decision of the mind, which is believed to be free, is not distinguishable from the imagination or memory, and is nothing more than the affirmation, which an idea, by virtue of being an idea, necessarily involves (II. xlix.). Wherefore these decisions of the mind arise in the mind by the same necessity, as the ideas of things actually existing. Therefore those who believe, that they speak or keep silence or act in any way from the free decision of their mind, do but dream with their eyes open.

Now I’d like to know if there are two types of decisions in the mind: one that’s illusory and the other that’s genuinely free. If our foolishness doesn't lead us to this conclusion, we must accept that what we think of as a free decision is indistinguishable from imagination or memory. It’s nothing more than the affirmation that naturally comes with being an idea (II. xlix.). Thus, these decisions of the mind arise by the same necessity as the ideas of things that actually exist. Therefore, those who think that they speak, remain silent, or act in any way based on a free decision of their mind are merely dreaming with their eyes open.

PROP. III. The activities of the mind arise solely from adequate ideas; the passive states of the mind depend solely on inadequate ideas.

PROP. III. The mind's activities come exclusively from clear ideas; the mind's passive states depend solely on unclear ideas.

Proof.—The first element, which constitutes the essence of the mind, is nothing else but the idea of the actually existent body (II. xi. and xiii.), which (II. xv.) is compounded of many other ideas, whereof some are adequate and some inadequate (II. xxix. Coroll., II. xxxviii. Coroll.). Whatsoever therefore follows from the nature of mind, and has mind for its proximate cause, through which it must be understood, must necessarily follow either from an adequate or from an inadequate idea. But in so far as the mind (III. i.) has inadequate ideas, it is necessarily passive: wherefore the activities of the mind follow solely from adequate ideas, and accordingly the mind is only passive in so far as it has inadequate ideas. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The first element that makes up the essence of the mind is simply the idea of a body that actually exists (II. xi. and xiii.), which (II. xv.) is made up of many other ideas, some of which are adequate and some inadequate (II. xxix. Coroll., II. xxxviii. Coroll.). Therefore, anything that arises from the nature of the mind and involves the mind as its immediate cause, which must be understood, necessarily comes from either an adequate or an inadequate idea. However, when the mind (III. i.) has inadequate ideas, it is necessarily passive; thus, the activities of the mind arise only from adequate ideas, and accordingly, the mind is only passive to the extent that it has inadequate ideas. Q.E.D.

Note.—Thus we see, that passive states are not attributed to the mind, except in so far as it contains something involving negation, or in so far as it is regarded as a part of nature, which cannot be clearly and distinctly perceived through itself without other parts: I could thus show, that passive states are attributed to individual things in the same way that they are attributed to the mind, and that they cannot otherwise be perceived, but my purpose is solely to treat of the human mind.

Note.—So we can see that passive states are not assigned to the mind unless it includes something that involves negation, or if it is looked at as a part of nature that can't be clearly and distinctly understood on its own without other parts. I could demonstrate that passive states are assigned to individual things in the same way they are assigned to the mind, and that they can't be perceived otherwise, but my aim is only to discuss the human mind.

PROP. IV. Nothing can be destroyed, except by a cause external to itself.

PROP. IV. Nothing can be destroyed without an external cause.

Proof.—This proposition is self—evident, for the definition of anything affirms the essence of that thing, but does not negative it; in other words, it postulates the essence of the thing, but does not take it away. So long therefore as we regard only the thing itself, without taking into account external causes, we shall not be able to find in it anything which could destroy it. Q.E.D.

Proof.—This proposition is self-evident, because the definition of anything confirms its essence but does not negate it; in other words, it asserts the essence of the thing without eliminating it. As long as we focus solely on the thing itself, without considering external factors, we won't find anything that could destroy it. Q.E.D.

PROP. V. Things are naturally contrary, that is, cannot exist in the same object, in so far as one is capable of destroying the other.

PROP. V. Things are naturally opposed, meaning they cannot coexist in the same object if one is capable of destroying the other.

Proof.—If they could agree together or co—exist in the same object, there would then be in the said object something which could destroy it; but this, by the foregoing proposition, is absurd, therefore things, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—If they could agree or coexist in the same object, there would then be something in that object that could destroy it; but this, as stated in the previous proposition, is absurd, therefore things, etc. Q.E.D.

PROP. VI. Everything, in so far as it is in itself, endeavours to persist in its own being.

PROP. VI. Everything, as far as it exists on its own, tries to maintain its own existence.

Proof.—Individual things are modes whereby the attributes of God are expressed in a given determinate manner (I. xxv. Coroll.); that is, (I. xxxiv.), they are things which express in a given determinate manner the power of God, whereby God is and acts; now no thing contains in itself anything whereby it can be destroyed, or which can take away its existence (III. iv.); but contrariwise it is opposed to all that could take away its existence (III. v.). Therefore, in so far as it can, and in so far as it is in itself, it endeavours to persist in its own being. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Individual things are ways in which God's attributes are expressed in a specific way (I. xxv. Coroll.); in other words, (I. xxxiv.), they are things that express God's power in a specific way, through which God exists and acts; now, no thing holds within itself anything that could destroy it or remove its existence (III. iv.); rather, it is opposed to anything that could eliminate its existence (III. v.). Therefore, to the extent that it can, and as far as it exists, it strives to continue in its own being. Q.E.D.

PROP. VII. The endeavour, wherewith everything endeavours to persist in its own being, is nothing else but the actual essence of the thing in question.

PROP. VII. The effort that everything makes to keep existing is nothing more than the true essence of that thing.

Proof.—From the given essence of any thing certain consequences necessarily follow (I. xxxvi.), nor have things any power save such as necessarily follows from their nature as determined (I. xxix.); wherefore the power of any given thing, or the endeavour whereby, either alone or with other things, it acts, or endeavours to act, that is (III. vi.), the power or endeavour, wherewith it endeavours to persist in its own being, is nothing else but the given or actual essence of the thing in question. Q.E.D.

Proof.—From the essence of anything, certain consequences necessarily follow (I. xxxvi.), and things only have power as determined by their nature (I. xxix.); therefore, the power of any given thing, or the effort it makes, whether on its own or with others, to act or try to act (that is, (III. vi.)), is simply the actual essence of that thing. Q.E.D.

PROP. VIII. The endeavour, whereby a thing endeavours to persist in its own being, involves no finite time, but an indefinite time.

PROP. VIII. The effort to keep something existing in its own state doesn’t involve a fixed amount of time, but rather an infinite amount of time.

Proof.—If it involved a limited time, which should determine the duration of the thing, it would then follow solely from that power whereby the thing exists, that the thing could not exist beyond the limits of that time, but that it must be destroyed; but this (III. iv.) is absurd. Wherefore the endeavour wherewith a thing exists involves no definite time; but, contrariwise, since (III. iv.) it will by the same power whereby it already exists always continue to exist, unless it be destroyed by some external cause, this endeavour involves an indefinite time.

Proof.—If it were limited to a specific time that determined how long something lasts, it would mean that its existence depends solely on that timeframe, and therefore, it couldn't exist beyond it and would have to be destroyed; but that's absurd. Thus, the effort that a thing makes to exist doesn't involve a definite timeframe. On the contrary, since it will continue to exist through the same power that allows it to exist now, unless something outside of it destroys it, this effort implies an indefinite timeframe.

PROP. IX. The mind, both in so far as it has clear and distinct ideas, and also in so far as it has confused ideas, endeavours to persist in its being for an indefinite period, and of this endeavour it is conscious.

PROP. IX. The mind, as much as it has clear and distinct ideas and also as it experiences confused ideas, strives to continue existing for an indefinite period, and it is aware of this effort.

Proof.—The essence of the mind is constituted by adequate and inadequate ideas (III. iii.), therefore (III. vii.), both in so far as it possesses the former, and in so far as it possesses the latter, it endeavours to persist in its own being, and that for an indefinite time (III. viii.). Now as the mind (II. xxiii.) is necessarily conscious of itself through the ideas of the modifications of the body, the mind is therefore (III. vii.) conscious of its own endeavour.

Proof.—The essence of the mind consists of adequate and inadequate ideas (III. iii.), so (III. vii.), to the extent that it has the former, and to the extent that it has the latter, it strives to continue existing, and that for an unlimited time (III. viii.). Now, since the mind (II. xxiii.) is necessarily aware of itself through the ideas of the body’s modifications, the mind is therefore (III. vii.) aware of its own striving.

Note.—This endeavour, when referred solely to the mind, is called will, when referred to the mind and body in conjunction it is called appetite; it is, in fact, nothing else but man's essence, from the nature of which necessarily follow all those results which tend to its preservation; and which man has thus been determined to perform.

Note.—This effort, when focused only on the mind, is called will; when it involves both the mind and body working together, it's called appetite. Essentially, it's nothing but the essence of humanity, from which all results that aim to preserve it necessarily follow; and these actions are what man is compelled to take.

Further, between appetite and desire there is no difference, except that the term desire is generally applied to men, in so far as they are conscious of their appetite, and may accordingly be thus defined: Desire is appetite with consciousness thereof. It is thus plain from what has been said, that in no case do we strive for, wish for, long for, or desire anything, because we deem it to be good, but on the other hand we deem a thing to be good, because we strive for it, wish for it, long for it, or desire it.

Further, there’s no difference between appetite and desire, except that we usually use the term desire when referring to people, as they are aware of their appetite. This can be defined like this: Desire is appetite with awareness of it. It’s clear from what has been said that we don’t strive for, wish for, long for, or desire something because we think it’s good; instead, we consider something good because we strive for it, wish for it, long for it, or desire it.

PROP. X. An idea, which excludes the existence of our body, cannot be postulated in our mind, but is contrary thereto.

PROP. X. An idea that excludes the existence of our body cannot be formed in our mind and is actually opposed to it.

Proof.—Whatsoever can destroy our body, cannot be postulated therein (III. v.). Therefore neither can the idea of such a thing occur in God, in so far as he has the idea of our body (II. ix. Coroll.); that is (II. xi., xiii.), the idea of that thing cannot be postulated as in our mind, but contrariwise, since (II. xi., xiii.) the first element, that constitutes the essence of the mind, is the idea of the human body as actually existing, it follows that the first and chief endeavour of our mind is the endeavour to affirm the existence of our body: thus, an idea, which negatives the existence of our body, is contrary to our mind, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Anything that can destroy our body cannot be assumed to exist (III. v.). Therefore, the idea of such a thing cannot exist in God, as He possesses the idea of our body (II. ix. Coroll.); that is (II. xi., xiii.), the idea of that thing cannot be assumed to be in our mind. On the contrary, since (II. xi., xiii.) the fundamental element that makes up the essence of the mind is the idea of the human body as actually existing, it follows that our mind's primary focus is to affirm the existence of our body. Thus, an idea that negates the existence of our body is in conflict with our mind, etc. Q.E.D.

PROP. XI. Whatsoever increases or diminishes, helps or hinders the power of activity in our body, the idea thereof increases or diminishes, helps or hinders the power of thought in our mind.

PROP. XI. Anything that boosts or lowers the activity in our body also increases or decreases, assists or obstructs the power of thought in our mind.

Proof.—This proposition is evident from II. vii. or from II. xiv.

Proof.—This statement is clear from II. vii. or from II. xiv.

Note.—Thus we see, that the mind can undergo many changes, and can pass sometimes to a state of greater perfection, sometimes to a state of lesser perfection. These passive states of transition explain to us the emotions of pleasure and pain. By pleasure therefore in the following propositions I shall signify a passive state wherein the mind passes to a greater perfection. By pain I shall signify a passive state wherein the mind passes to a lesser perfection. Further, the emotion of pleasure in reference to the body and mind together I shall call stimulation (titillatio) or merriment (hilaritas), the emotion of pain in the same relation I shall call suffering or melancholy. But we must bear in mind, that stimulation and suffering are attributed to man, when one part of his nature is more affected than the rest, merriment and melancholy, when all parts are alike affected. What I mean by desire I have explained in the note to Prop. ix. of this part; beyond these three I recognize no other primary emotion; I will show as I proceed, that all other emotions arise from these three. But, before I go further, I should like here to explain at greater length Prop. x of this part, in order that we may clearly understand how one idea is contrary to another. In the note to II. xvii. we showed that the idea, which constitutes the essence of mind, involves the existence of body, so long as the body itself exists. Again, it follows from what we pointed out in the Corollary to II. viii., that the present existence of our mind depends solely on the fact, that the mind involves the actual existence of the body. Lastly, we showed (II. xvii., xviii. and note) that the power of the mind, whereby it imagines and remembers things, also depends on the fact, that it involves the actual existence of the body. Whence it follows, that the present existence of the mind and its power of imagining are removed, as soon as the mind ceases to affirm the present existence of the body. Now the cause, why the mind ceases to affirm this existence of the body, cannot be the mind itself (III. iv.), nor again the fact that the body ceases to exist. For (by II. vi.) the cause, why the mind affirms the existence of the body, is not that the body began to exist; therefore, for the same reason, it does not cease to affirm the existence of the body, because the body ceases to exist; but (II. xvii.) this result follows from another idea, which excludes the present existence of our body and, consequently, of our mind, and which is therefore contrary to the idea constituting the essence of our mind.

Note.—So, we see that the mind can go through many changes and can sometimes reach a state of greater perfection, while at other times it may fall into a state of lesser perfection. These passive transitional states help us understand feelings of pleasure and pain. Therefore, in the following statements, I will define pleasure as a passive state where the mind moves toward greater perfection. I will define pain as a passive state where the mind moves toward lesser perfection. Additionally, I will refer to the feeling of pleasure, in relation to both the body and mind, as stimulation (titillatio) or merriment (hilaritas), and I will refer to the feeling of pain in the same context as suffering or melancholy. However, we must keep in mind that stimulation and suffering are associated with a person when one part of their nature is more affected than the others, while merriment and melancholy occur when all parts are affected equally. I have explained what I mean by desire in the note to Prop. ix. of this section; beyond these three emotions, I do not recognize any other primary emotion. I will show as I continue that all other emotions stem from these three. But before moving on, I would like to elaborate on Prop. x of this section to help us understand clearly how one idea contradicts another. In the note to II. xvii., we demonstrated that the idea that constitutes the essence of the mind involves the existence of the body, as long as the body exists. Furthermore, it follows from what we pointed out in the Corollary to II. viii., that the current existence of our mind depends solely on the fact that the mind affirms the actual existence of the body. Finally, we showed (II. xvii., xviii. and note) that the mind's ability to imagine and remember relies on the fact that it affirms the actual existence of the body. Thus, it follows that the current existence of the mind and its power of imagination are lost as soon as the mind stops affirming the present existence of the body. Now, the reason why the mind stops affirming this existence of the body cannot be the mind itself (III. iv.), nor can it be the case that the body ceases to exist. For (by II. vi.) the reason the mind affirms the body's existence is not that the body started to exist; thus, for the same reason, it does not stop affirming the existence of the body because the body ceases to exist. Instead, (II. xvii.) this outcome arises from another idea that excludes the current existence of our body and, consequently, of our mind, and which is therefore contradictory to the idea that constitutes the essence of our mind.

PROP. XII. The mind, as far as it can, endeavours to conceive those things, which increase or help the power of activity in the body.

PROP. XII. The mind, as much as possible, tries to understand those things that enhance or support the body's ability to act.

Proof.—So long as the human body is affected in a mode, which involves the nature of any external body, the human mind will regard that external body as present (II. xvii.), and consequently (II. vii.), so long as the human mind regards an external body as present, that is (II. xvii. note), conceives it, the human body is affected in a mode, which involves the nature of the said external body; thus so long as the mind conceives things, which increase or help the power of activity in our body, the body is affected in modes which increase or help its power of activity (III. Post. i.); consequently (III. xi.) the mind's power of thinking is for that period increased or helped. Thus (III. vi., ix.) the mind, as far as it can, endeavours to imagine such things. Q.E.D.

Proof.—As long as the human body is influenced in a way that involves the characteristics of any external object, the human mind will perceive that external object as present (II. xvii.), and consequently (II. vii.), as long as the human mind considers an external object to be present, which means (II. xvii. note) it conceptualizes it, the human body is influenced in a way that involves the nature of that external object; therefore, as long as the mind envisions things that enhance or support the body's ability to act, the body is influenced in ways that enhance or support its ability to act (III. Post. i.); thus (III. xi.) the mind's thinking power is temporarily increased or supported. Therefore (III. vi., ix.) the mind, to the best of its ability, tries to imagine such things. Q.E.D.

PROP. XIII. When the mind conceives things which diminish or hinder the body's power of activity, it endeavours, as far as possible, to remember things which exclude the existence of the first—named things.

PROP. XIII. When the mind thinks of things that reduce or limit the body's ability to act, it tries, as much as possible, to remember things that negate the existence of those first-mentioned things.

Proof.—So long as the mind conceives anything of the kind alluded to, the power of the mind and body is diminished or constrained (cf. III. xii. Proof); nevertheless it will continue to conceive it, until the mind conceives something else, which excludes the present existence thereof (II. xvii.); that is (as I have just shown), the power of the mind and of the body is diminished, or constrained, until the mind conceives something else, which excludes the existence of the former thing conceived: therefore the mind (III. ix.), as far as it can, will endeavour to conceive or remember the latter. Q.E.D.

Proof.—As long as the mind is aware of something like this, the power of the mind and body is weakened or restricted (cf. III. xii. Proof); however, it will keep thinking about it until the mind focuses on something else that eliminates its current existence (II. xvii.); that is (as I just showed), the power of the mind and body is weakened or restricted until the mind thinks of something else that rules out the existence of the previous thought: therefore the mind (III. ix.), as much as it can, will try to think about or remember the latter. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Hence it follows that the mind shrinks from conceiving those things, which diminish or constrain the power of itself and of the body.

Corollary.—So, it follows that the mind avoids imagining things that weaken or limit its own power and that of the body.

Note.—From what has been said we may clearly understand the nature of Love and Hate. Love is nothing else but pleasure accompanied by the idea of an external cause: Hate is nothing else but pain accompanied by the idea of an external cause. We further see, that he who loves necessarily endeavours to have, and to keep present to him, the object of his love; while he who hates endeavours to remove and destroy the object of his hatred. But I will treat of these matters at more length hereafter.

Note.—From what has been discussed, we can clearly understand the nature of Love and Hate. Love is simply pleasure linked to an external cause; Hate is just pain linked to an external cause. We also see that someone who loves naturally tries to possess and keep close the object of their love, while someone who hates tries to eliminate and destroy the object of their hatred. But I will discuss these topics in more detail later.

PROP. XIV. If the mind has once been affected by two emotions at the same time, it will, whenever it is afterwards affected by one of these two, be also affected by the other.

PROP. XIV. If the mind has been influenced by two emotions at the same time, it will, whenever it is later influenced by one of those emotions, also be influenced by the other.

Proof.—If the human body has once been affected by two bodies at once, whenever afterwards the mind conceives one of them, it will straightway remember the other also (II. xviii.). But the mind's conceptions indicate rather the emotions of our body than the nature of external bodies (II. xvi. Coroll. ii.); therefore, if the body, and consequently the mind (III. Def. iii.) has been once affected by two emotions at the same time, it will, whenever it is afterwards affected by one of the two, be also affected by the other.

Proof.—If the human body has ever been influenced by two different things at the same time, whenever the mind later thinks of one, it will instantly recall the other as well (II. xviii.). However, the mind's thoughts are more about the feelings of our body than the actual nature of outside things (II. xvi. Coroll. ii.); therefore, if the body, and thus the mind (III. Def. iii.), has once been affected by two emotions simultaneously, it will, whenever it is later impacted by one of those emotions, also be affected by the other.

PROP. XV. Anything can, accidentally, be the cause of pleasure, pain, or desire.

PROP. XV. Anything can accidentally cause pleasure, pain, or desire.

Proof.—Let it be granted that the mind is simultaneously affected by two emotions, of which one neither increases nor diminishes its power of activity, and the other does either increase or diminish the said power (III. Post. i.). From the foregoing proposition it is evident that, whenever the mind is afterwards affected by the former, through its true cause, which (by hypothesis) neither increases nor diminishes its power of action, it will be at the same time affected by the latter, which does increase or diminish its power of activity, that is (III. xi. note) it will be affected with pleasure or pain. Thus the former of the two emotions will, not through itself, but accidentally, be the cause of pleasure or pain. In the same way also it can be easily shown, that a thing may be accidentally the cause of desire. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Let's assume that the mind can be influenced by two emotions at the same time, one of which doesn’t change its ability to act, while the other does change that ability (III. Post. i.). From this, it's clear that whenever the mind is later influenced by the first emotion, which (by definition) doesn’t change its ability to act, it will simultaneously be influenced by the second emotion, which does change its ability to act; that is (III. xi. note), it will feel pleasure or pain. Therefore, the first emotion will, not by itself, but incidentally, cause pleasure or pain. Similarly, it can be easily demonstrated that something can incidentally cause desire. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Simply from the fact that we have regarded a thing with the emotion of pleasure or pain, though that thing be not the efficient cause of the emotion, we can either love or hate it.

Corollary.—Just because we have experienced something with feelings of pleasure or pain, even if that thing isn't the direct cause of those feelings, we can either love or hate it.

Proof.—For from this fact alone it arises (III. xiv.), that the mind afterwards conceiving the said thing is affected with the emotion of pleasure or pain, that is (III. xi. note), according as the power of the mind and body may be increased or diminished, &c.; and consequently (III. xii.), according as the mind may desire or shrink from the conception of it (III. xiii. Coroll.), in other words (III. xiii. note), according as it may love or hate the same. Q.E.D.

Proof.—From this fact alone, it follows (III. xiv.) that when the mind later thinks about the mentioned thing, it experiences an emotion of pleasure or pain, which is to say (III. xi. note) depending on whether the mind and body’s power is increased or decreased, etc.; and therefore (III. xii.), depending on whether the mind wants or avoids the thought of it (III. xiii. Coroll.), in other words (III. xiii. note), based on whether it loves or hates the same. Q.E.D.

Note.—Hence we understand how it may happen, that we love or hate a thing without any cause for our emotion being known to us; merely, as a phrase is, from sympathy or antipathy. We should refer to the same category those objects, which affect us pleasurably or painfully, simply because they resemble other objects which affect us in the same way. This I will show in the next Prop. I am aware that certain authors, who were the first to introduce these terms "sympathy" and "antipathy," wished to signify thereby some occult qualities in things; nevertheless I think we may be permitted to use the same terms to indicate known or manifest qualities.

Note.—This helps us understand how we can love or hate something without knowing why we feel that way; it's just based on sympathy or antipathy. We should consider objects that bring us pleasure or pain for the same reason—they resemble other objects that affect us similarly. I will demonstrate this in the next Proposition. I know that some authors, who originally introduced the terms "sympathy" and "antipathy," intended to refer to some mysterious qualities in things; however, I believe we can also use these terms to indicate known or observable qualities.

PROP. XVI. Simply from the fact that we conceive, that a given object has some point of resemblance with another object which is wont to affect the mind pleasurably or painfully, although the point of resemblance be not the efficient cause of the said emotions, we shall still regard the first—named object with love or hate.

PROP. XVI. Just because we think that a certain object has some similarity to another object that usually makes us feel good or bad, even if that similarity isn’t what really causes those feelings, we will still view the first object with love or hate.

Proof.—The point of resemblance was in the object (by hypothesis), when we regarded it with pleasure or pain, thus (III. xiv.), when the mind is affected by the image thereof, it will straightway be affected by one or the other emotion, and consequently the thing, which we perceive to have the same point of resemblance, will be accidentally (III. xv.) a cause of pleasure or pain. Thus (by the foregoing Corollary), although the point in which the two objects resemble one another be not the efficient cause of the emotion, we shall still regard the first—named object with love or hate. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The similarity lies in the object (as assumed), when we look at it with pleasure or pain. Thus (III. xiv.), when the mind is influenced by its image, it will immediately be impacted by one of those emotions, and as a result, the thing we perceive to share that similarity will accidentally (III. xv.) become a source of pleasure or pain. Therefore (according to the earlier conclusion), even though the aspect in which the two objects are alike is not the direct cause of the emotion, we will still view the first object with love or hate. Q.E.D.

PROP. XVII. If we conceive that a thing, which is wont to affect us painfully, has any point of resemblance with another thing which is wont to affect us with an equally strong emotion of pleasure, we shall hate the first—named thing, and at the same time we shall love it.

PROP. XVII. If we think that something that usually causes us pain has any similarities with another thing that usually brings us equally strong pleasure, we will hate the first thing while also loving it at the same time.

Proof.—The given thing is (by hypothesis) in itself a cause of pain, and (III. xiii. note), in so far as we imagine it with this emotion, we shall hate it: further, inasmuch as we conceive that it has some point of resemblance to something else, which is wont to affect us with an equally strong emotion of pleasure, we shall with an equally strong impulse of pleasure love it (III. xvi.); thus we shall both hate and love the same thing. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The thing in question is, by assumption, a source of pain, and as we imagine it with this feeling, we'll hate it. Additionally, since we think it has some similarities to something else that usually brings us a strong sense of pleasure, we will feel an equally strong attraction to it. Therefore, we will both hate and love the same thing. Q.E.D.

Note.—This disposition of the mind, which arises from two contrary emotions, is called vacillation; it stands to the emotions in the same relation as doubt does to the imagination (II. xliv. note); vacillation and doubt do not differ one from the other, except as greater differs from less. But we must bear in mind that I have deduced this vacillation from causes, which give rise through themselves to one of the emotions, and to the other accidentally. I have done this, in order that they might be more easily deduced from what went before; but I do not deny that vacillation of the disposition generally arises from an object, which is the efficient cause of both emotions. The human body is composed (II. Post. i.) of a variety of individual parts of different nature, and may therefore (Ax.i. after Lemma iii. after II. xiii.) be affected in a variety of different ways by one and the same body; and contrariwise, as one and the same thing can be affected in many ways, it can also in many different ways affect one and the same part of the body. Hence we can easily conceive, that one and the same object may be the cause of many and conflicting emotions.

Note.—This state of mind, which comes from two opposing feelings, is called vacillation; it relates to emotions in the same way that doubt relates to imagination (II. xliv. note); vacillation and doubt are not really different from each other, except in terms of intensity. But we should remember that I have explained this vacillation based on causes that directly produce one of the emotions and only incidentally the other. I did this to make it easier to explain based on previous discussions; however, I do acknowledge that the vacillation of the mind usually arises from an object that effectively causes both emotions. The human body is made up (II. Post. i.) of a range of individual parts of different types and can therefore (Ax.i. after Lemma iii. after II. xiii.) be affected in numerous different ways by the same body; conversely, since a single thing can be influenced in many ways, it can also affect one particular part of the body in various ways. Therefore, it's easy to understand that a single object can be the source of many conflicting emotions.

PROP. XVIII. A man is as much affected pleasurably or painfully by the image of a thing past or future as by the image of a thing present.

PROP. XVIII. A person feels as much pleasure or pain from the idea of something in the past or future as they do from the idea of something happening in the present.

Proof.—So long as a man is affected by the image of anything, he will regard that thing as present, even though it be non—existent (II. xvii. and Coroll.), he will not conceive it as past or future, except in so far as its image is joined to the image of time past or future (II. xliv. note). Wherefore the image of a thing, regarded in itself alone, is identical, whether it be referred to time past, time future, or time present; that is (II. xvi. Coroll.), the disposition or emotion of the body is identical, whether the image be of a thing past, future, or present. Thus the emotion of pleasure or pain is the same, whether the image be of a thing past or future. Q.E.D.

Proof.—As long as a person is influenced by the image of something, they will see that thing as present, even if it doesn’t actually exist (II. xvii. and Coroll.). They won’t think of it as past or future, unless its image is connected to the image of time that has already passed or time that is yet to come (II. xliv. note). Therefore, the image of a thing, when considered by itself, is the same whether it refers to the past, future, or present; that is, (II. xvi. Coroll.) the state or feeling of the body is the same, whether the image is of something past, future, or present. Thus, the feeling of pleasure or pain remains the same, regardless of whether the image is of something that happened in the past or something that will happen in the future. Q.E.D.

Note I.—I call a thing past or future, according as we either have been or shall be affected thereby. For instance, according as we have seen it, or are about to see it, according as it has recreated us, or will recreate us, according as it has harmed us, or will harm us. For, as we thus conceive it, we affirm its existence; that is, the body is affected by no emotion which excludes the existence of the thing, and therefore (II. xvii.) the body is affected by the image of the thing, in the same way as if the thing were actually present. However, as it generally happens that those, who have had many experiences, vacillate, so long as they regard a thing as future or past, and are usually in doubt about its issue (II. xliv. note); it follows that the emotions which arise from similar images of things are not so constant, but are generally disturbed by the images of other things, until men become assured of the issue.

Note I.—I refer to something as past or future based on how we’ve been affected by it or how we will be affected by it. For example, depending on whether we’ve seen it or are about to see it, whether it has rejuvenated us or will rejuvenate us, whether it has harmed us or will harm us. In this way, we affirm its existence; that is, the body is influenced by no emotion that denies the existence of the thing, and therefore (II. xvii.) the body is affected by the image of the thing as if it were actually present. However, it often happens that those who have had many experiences waver as long as they see something as either future or past, and they usually doubt its outcome (II. xliv. note); it follows that the emotions arising from similar images of things are not very stable but are often disturbed by images of other things until people feel certain about the outcome.

Note II.—From what has just been said, we understand what is meant by the terms Hope, Fear, Confidence, Despair, Joy, and Disappointment.[5] Hope is nothing else but an inconstant pleasure, arising from the image of something future or past, whereof we do not yet know the issue. Fear, on the other hand, is an inconstant pain also arising from the image of something concerning which we are in doubt. If the element of doubt be removed from these emotions, hope becomes Confidence and fear becomes Despair. In other words, Pleasure or Pain arising from the image of something concerning which we have hoped or feared. Again, Joy is Pleasure arising from the image of something past whereof we have doubted the issue. Disappointment is the Pain opposed to Joy.

Note II.—From what we've just discussed, we understand what is meant by the terms Hope, Fear, Confidence, Despair, Joy, and Disappointment. Hope is simply a fluctuating pleasure that comes from the thought of something future or past, the outcome of which we don't yet know. Fear, however, is a fluctuating pain that also comes from the thought of something we're uncertain about. If we take away the doubt from these emotions, hope turns into Confidence and fear turns into Despair. In other words, Pleasure or Pain arises from the thought of something we've hoped for or feared. Similarly, Joy is Pleasure derived from the thought of something past where we had doubts about the outcome. Disappointment is the Pain that contrasts with Joy.

[5] Conscientiæ morsus—thus rendered by Mr. Pollock.

[5] The sting of conscience—this is how Mr. Pollock translates it.


PROP. XIX. He who conceives that the object of his love is destroyed will feel pain; if he conceives that it is preserved he will feel pleasure.

PROP. XIX. If someone believes that the object of their love is gone, they will feel pain; if they believe it is safe, they will feel pleasure.

Proof.—The mind, as far as possible, endeavours to conceive those things which increase or help the body's power of activity (III. xii.); in other words (III. xii. note), those things which it loves. But conception is helped by those things which postulate the existence of a thing, and contrariwise is hindered by those which exclude the existence of a thing (II. xvii.); therefore the images of things, which postulate the existence of an object of love, help the mind's endeavour to conceive the object of love, in other words (III. xi. note), affect the mind pleasurably; contrariwise those things, which exclude the existence of an object of love, hinder the aforesaid mental endeavour; in other words, affect the mind painfully. He, therefore, who conceives that the object of his love is destroyed will feel pain, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The mind, as much as it can, tries to understand those things that boost or support the body's ability to act (III. xii.); in other words (III. xii. note), those things that it loves. But understanding is facilitated by things that suggest the existence of something, and is hindered by those that deny it (II. xvii.); therefore, images of things that imply the existence of a beloved object assist the mind's effort to grasp that object, in other words (III. xi. note), they positively influence the mind; on the other hand, things that negate the existence of a beloved object obstruct this mental effort; in other words, they negatively influence the mind. Thus, someone who believes that their beloved object is lost will feel pain, etc. Q.E.D.

PROP. XX. He who conceives that the object of his hate is destroyed will also feel pleasure.

PROP. XX. Whoever thinks that the target of their hatred is gone will also feel pleasure.

Proof.—The mind (III. xiii.) endeavours to conceive those things, which exclude the existence of things whereby the body's power of activity is diminished or constrained; that is (III. xiii. note), it endeavours to conceive such things as exclude the existence of what it hates; therefore the image of a thing, which excludes the existence of what the mind hates, helps the aforesaid mental effort, in other words (III. xi. note), affects the mind pleasurably. Thus he who conceives that the object of his hate is destroyed will feel pleasure. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The mind (III. xiii.) tries to imagine things that eliminate the existence of things that limit or restrict the body’s ability to act; that is (III. xiii. note), it tries to envision things that get rid of what it dislikes. Therefore, the idea of something that removes the existence of what the mind hates supports this mental effort; in other words (III. xi. note), it positively impacts the mind. Thus, someone who imagines the destruction of what they hate will feel pleasure. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXI. He who conceives, that the object of his love is affected pleasurably or painfully, will himself be affected pleasurably or painfully; and the one or the other emotion will be greater or less in the lover according as it is greater or less in the thing loved.

PROP. XXI. Whoever believes that the object of their love feels pleasure or pain will themselves feel pleasure or pain; and the intensity of their emotion will be greater or lesser depending on the intensity of the feelings experienced by the loved one.

Proof.—The images of things (as we showed in III. xix.) which postulate the existence of the object of love, help the mind's endeavour to conceive the said object. But pleasure postulates the existence of something feeling pleasure, so much the more in proportion as the emotion of pleasure is greater; for it is (III. xi. note) a transition to a greater perfection; therefore the image of pleasure in the object of love helps the mental endeavour of the lover; that is, it affects the lover pleasurably, and so much the more, in proportion as this emotion may have been greater in the object of love. This was our first point. Further, in so far as a thing is affected with pain, it is to that extent destroyed, the extent being in proportion to the amount of pain (III. xi. note); therefore (III. xix.) he who conceives, that the object of his love is affected painfully, will himself be affected painfully, in proportion as the said emotion is greater or less in the object of love. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The images of things (as we showed in III. xix.) that imply the existence of the object of love assist the mind's effort to understand that object. But pleasure implies the existence of someone experiencing pleasure, and this is even more true the greater the feeling of pleasure; for it is (III. xi. note) a move toward greater perfection. Therefore, the image of pleasure in the object of love aids the mental effort of the lover; that is, it gives the lover pleasure, and this is even more so depending on how intense this feeling may have been in the object of love. This was our first point. Furthermore, to the extent that something is affected by pain, it is correspondingly diminished, and this extent varies with the amount of pain (III. xi. note); therefore (III. xix.) anyone who thinks that the object of their love is experiencing pain will themselves feel pain, depending on whether this feeling is greater or lesser in the object of love. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXII. If we conceive that anything pleasurably affects some object of our love, we shall be affected with love towards that thing. Contrariwise, if we conceive that it affects an object of our love painfully, we shall be affected with hatred towards it.

PROP. XXII. If we think that something brings pleasure to someone we love, we will feel love for that thing. On the other hand, if we think it causes pain to someone we love, we will feel hatred towards it.

Proof.—He, who affects pleasurably or painfully the object of our love, affects us also pleasurably or painfully—that is, if we conceive the loved object as affected with the said pleasure or pain (III. xxi.). But this pleasure or pain is postulated to come to us accompanied by the idea of an external cause; therefore (III. xiii. note), if we conceive that anyone affects an object of our love pleasurably or painfully, we shall be affected with love or hatred towards him. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The person who either positively or negatively influences something we love also impacts us in a similar way— that is, if we see the loved object as experiencing that pleasure or pain (III. xxi.). However, this pleasure or pain is assumed to arrive with the idea of an external cause; therefore (III. xiii. note), if we think that someone is causing an object of our love to feel pleasure or pain, we will feel love or hate towards that person. Q.E.D.

Note.—Prop. xxi. explains to us the nature of Pity, which we may define as pain arising from another's hurt. What term we can use for pleasure arising from another's gain, I know not.

Note.—Prop. xxi. explains the nature of Pity, which we can define as the pain we feel when someone else is hurt. I’m not sure what term we can use for the pleasure that comes from someone else's gain.

We will call the love towards him who confers a benefit on another, Approval; and the hatred towards him who injures another, we will call Indignation. We must further remark, that we not only feel pity for a thing which we have loved (as shown in III. xxi.), but also for a thing which we have hitherto regarded without emotion, provided that we deem that it resembles ourselves (as I will show presently). Thus, we bestow approval on one who has benefited anything resembling ourselves, and, contrariwise, are indignant with him who has done it an injury.

We'll refer to the love for someone who helps another as Approval, and the hatred for someone who harms another as Indignation. Additionally, we should note that we not only feel pity for something we have loved (as shown in III. xxi.), but also for something we have previously viewed without any feelings, as long as we believe it is similar to ourselves (which I will explain shortly). Therefore, we express approval for someone who has benefited something that resembles us, and on the other hand, we feel indignant towards someone who has harmed it.

PROP. XXIII. He who conceives, that an object of his hatred is painfully affected, will feel pleasure. Contrariwise, if he thinks that the said object is pleasurably affected, he will feel pain. Each of these emotions will be greater or less, according as its contrary is greater or less in the object of hatred.

PROP. XXIII. If someone thinks the person they hate is suffering, they will feel pleasure. On the other hand, if they believe that person is enjoying something, they will feel pain. The intensity of each of these emotions will vary depending on how intense the opposite feelings are in the person they hate.

Proof.—In so far as an object of hatred is painfully affected, it is destroyed, to an extent proportioned to the strength of the pain (III. xi. note). Therefore, he (III. xx.) who conceives, that some object of his hatred is painfully affected, will feel pleasure, to an extent proportioned to the amount of pain he conceives in the object of his hatred. This was our first point. Again, pleasure postulates the existence of the pleasurably affected thing (III. xi. note), in proportion as the pleasure is greater or less. If anyone imagines that an object of his hatred is pleasurably affected, this conception (III. xiii.) will hinder his own endeavour to persist; in other words (III. xi. note), he who hates will be painfully affected. Q.E.D.

Proof.—As much as a hated object suffers, it is destroyed to a degree that matches the intensity of that suffering (III. xi. note). Therefore, a person (III. xx.) who believes that something they hate is suffering will feel pleasure, corresponding to the level of pain they believe that object is experiencing. This was our first point. Furthermore, pleasure requires the existence of something that is experiencing pleasure (III. xi. note), depending on whether that pleasure is more or less intense. If someone thinks that an object of their hatred is experiencing pleasure, this belief (III. xiii.) will prevent them from continuing their efforts; in other words (III. xi. note), a person who hates will themselves feel pain. Q.E.D.

Note.—This pleasure can scarcely be felt unalloyed, and without any mental conflict. For (as I am about to show in Prop. xxvii.), in so far as a man conceives that something similar to himself is affected by pain, he will himself be affected in like manner; and he will have the contrary emotion in contrary circumstances. But here we are regarding hatred only.

Note.—This pleasure is hardly ever experienced without some conflict in the mind. For (as I will demonstrate in Prop. xxvii.), to the extent that a person realizes that something similar to them is in pain, they will also feel that pain themselves; and they will experience the opposite emotion in opposite situations. But here, we are only looking at hatred.

PROP. XXIV. If we conceive that anyone pleasurably affects an object of our hate, we shall feel hatred towards him also. If we conceive that he painfully affects that said object, we shall feel love towards him.

PROP. XXIV. If we think that someone positively influences something we dislike, we will also feel hatred towards that person. If we think that they negatively influence that same object, we will feel love towards them.

Proof.—This proposition is proved in the same way as III. xxii., which see.

Proof.—This proposition is proven in the same way as III. xxii., which you can refer to.

Note.—These and similar emotions of hatred are attributable to envy, which, accordingly, is nothing else but hatred, in so far as it is regarded as disposing a man to rejoice in another's hurt, and to grieve at another's advantage.

Note.—These and similar feelings of hatred come from envy, which is really just a form of hatred. It makes someone happy about another person's misfortune and upset about their success.

PROP. XXV. We endeavour to affirm, concerning ourselves, and concerning what we love, everything that we can conceive to affect pleasurably ourselves, or the loved object. Contrariwise, we endeavour to negative everything, which we conceive to affect painfully ourselves or the loved object.

PROP. XXV. We try to affirm everything about ourselves and what we love that we can imagine brings us or the loved object pleasure. On the flip side, we work to deny everything we think causes us or the loved object pain.

Proof.—That, which we conceive to affect an object of our love pleasurably or painfully, affects us also pleasurably or painfully (III. xxi.). But the mind (III. xii.) endeavours, as far as possible, to conceive those things which affect us pleasurably; in other words (II. xvii. and Coroll.), it endeavours to regard them as present. And, contrariwise (III. xiii.), it endeavours to exclude the existence of such things as affect us painfully; therefore, we endeavour to affirm concerning ourselves, and concerning the loved object, whatever we conceive to affect ourselves, or the love object pleasurably. Q.E.D.

Proof.—What we believe affects an object we love in a pleasurable or painful way also affects us in a pleasurable or painful way (III. xxi.). But the mind (III. xii.) tries, as much as it can, to think of things that affect us pleasantly; in other words (II. xvii. and Coroll.), it tries to see them as present. On the other hand (III. xiii.), it tries to ignore the existence of things that affect us painfully; therefore, we try to confirm about ourselves and the loved object whatever we think affects us or the loved object in a pleasurable way. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXVI. We endeavour to affirm, concerning that which we hate, everything which we conceive to affect it painfully; and, contrariwise, we endeavour to deny, concerning it, everything which we conceive to affect it pleasurably.

PROP. XXVI. We try to affirm everything we think causes pain to what we hate, and, on the flip side, we deny everything we think brings pleasure to it.

Proof.—This proposition follows from III. xxiii., as the foregoing proposition followed from III. xxi.

Proof.—This statement comes from III. xxiii., just like the previous statement came from III. xxi.

Note.—Thus we see that it may readily happen, that a man may easily think too highly of himself, or a loved object, and, contrariwise, too meanly of a hated object. This feeling is called pride, in reference to the man who thinks too highly of himself, and is a species of madness, wherein a man dreams with his eyes open, thinking that he can accomplish all things that fall within the scope of his conception, and thereupon accounting them real, and exulting in them, so long as he is unable to conceive anything which excludes their existence, and determines his own power of action. Pride, therefore, is pleasure springing from a man thinking too highly of himself. Again, the pleasure which arises from a man thinking too highly of another is called over—esteem. Whereas the pleasure which arises from thinking too little of a man is called disdain.

Note.—So we see that it can easily happen that a person may think too highly of themselves or someone they love, and, on the other hand, think too lowly of someone they hate. This feeling is called pride when it refers to someone who thinks too highly of themselves, and it's a kind of madness where a person daydreams with their eyes open, believing they can achieve anything they can imagine, and then considers those thoughts real, feeling proud of them, as long as they can't conceive anything that contradicts their existence or limits their own ability to act. Pride, therefore, is the pleasure that comes from a person thinking too highly of themselves. On the other hand, the pleasure that comes from thinking too highly of someone else is called over-esteem. Meanwhile, the pleasure that comes from thinking too little of someone is called disdain.

PROP. XXVII. By the very fact that we conceive a thing, which is like ourselves, and which we have not regarded with any emotion, to be affected with any emotion, we are ourselves affected with a like emotion (affectus).

PROP. XXVII. By the simple act of imagining something that resembles us, even if we haven't felt any strong emotions about it, we end up experiencing similar emotions ourselves (affectus).

Proof.—The images of things are modifications of the human body, whereof the ideas represent external bodies as present to us (II. xvii.); in other words (II. x.), whereof the ideas involve the nature of our body, and, at the same time, the nature of the external bodies as present. If, therefore, the nature of the external body be similar to the nature of our body, then the idea which we form of the external body will involve a modification of our own body similar to the modification of the external body. Consequently, if we conceive anyone similar to ourselves as affected by any emotion, this conception will express a modification of our body similar to that emotion. Thus, from the fact of conceiving a thing like ourselves to be affected with any emotion, we are ourselves affected with a like emotion. If, however, we hate the said thing like ourselves, we shall, to that extent, be affected by a contrary, and not similar, emotion. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The images of things are changes in the human body, which our ideas represent as external objects being present to us (II. xvii.); in other words (II. x.), our ideas reflect both the nature of our body and the nature of the external objects we perceive. If the nature of the external object is similar to our own body, then the idea we form of that external object will involve a change in our body that is similar to the change in the external object. As a result, when we imagine someone like ourselves experiencing an emotion, this thought will reflect a change in our body similar to that emotion. Thus, by imagining something similar to ourselves being affected by any emotion, we too will feel a similar emotion. However, if we dislike that similar thing, we will, to that extent, experience a different, opposite emotion instead. Q.E.D.

Note I.—This imitation of emotions, when it is referred to pain, is called compassion (cf. III. xxii. note); when it is referred to desire, it is called emulation, which is nothing else but the desire of anything, engendered in us by the fact that we conceive that others have the like desire.

Note I.—This imitation of emotions, when it relates to pain, is called compassion (cf. III. xxii. note); when it relates to desire, it is called emulation, which is simply the desire for something, sparked in us by the idea that others share that same desire.

Corollary I.—If we conceive that anyone, whom we have hitherto regarded with no emotion, pleasurably affects something similar to ourselves, we shall be affected with love towards him. If, on the other hand, we conceive that he painfully affects the same, we shall be affected with hatred towards him.

Corollary I.—If we think that someone we've previously felt nothing for brings us joy in a way that's similar to ourselves, we'll start to feel love for them. Conversely, if we believe they cause us pain in a similar way, we'll feel hatred towards them.

Proof.—This is proved from the last proposition in the same manner as III. xxii. is proved from III. xxi.

Proof.—This is proven from the last statement the same way as III. xxii. is proven from III. xxi.

Corollary II.—We cannot hate a thing which we pity, because its misery affects us painfully.

Corollary II.—We can't hate something we feel pity for, because its suffering causes us pain.

Proof.—If we could hate it for this reason, we should rejoice in its pain, which is contrary to the hypothesis.

Proof.—If we could hate it for this reason, we would find joy in its suffering, which goes against the assumption.

Corollary III.—We seek to free from misery, as far as we can, a thing which we pity.

Corollary III.—We try to relieve the suffering of something we feel sympathy for, as much as we are able.

Proof.—That, which painfully affects the object of our pity, affects us also with similar pain (by the foregoing proposition); therefore, we shall endeavour to recall everything which removes its existence, or which destroys it (cf. III. xiii.); in other words (III. ix. note), we shall desire to destroy it, or we shall be determined for its destruction; thus, we shall endeavour to free from misery a thing which we pity. Q.E.D.

Proof.—What causes pain to the one we pity also causes us similar pain (as stated in the previous proposition); therefore, we will try to eliminate anything that causes its existence or destroys it (cf. III. xiii.); in other words (III. ix. note), we will want to destroy it or be committed to its destruction; thus, we will try to relieve from suffering something that we pity. Q.E.D.

Note II.—This will or appetite for doing good, which arises from pity of the thing whereon we would confer a benefit, is called benevolence, and is nothing else but desire arising from compassion. Concerning love or hate towards him who has done good or harm to something, which we conceive to be like ourselves, see III. xxii. note.

Note II.—This will or desire to do good, which comes from feeling sorry for the thing we want to help, is called benevolence, and it’s simply a desire that stems from compassion. Regarding love or hate towards someone who has either helped or harmed something we view as similar to ourselves, see III. xxii. note.

PROP. XXVIII. We endeavour to bring about whatsoever we conceive to conduce to pleasure; but we endeavour to remove or destroy whatsoever we conceive to be truly repugnant thereto, or to conduce to pain.

PROP. XXVIII. We aim to create everything we think will lead to pleasure; however, we strive to eliminate or get rid of anything we believe is truly opposed to it or leads to pain.

Proof.—We endeavour, as far as possible, to conceive that which we imagine to conduce to pleasure (III. xii.); in other words (II. xvii.) we shall endeavour to conceive it as far as possible as present or actually existing. But the endeavour of the mind, or the mind's power of thought, is equal to, and simultaneous with, the endeavour of the body, or the body's power of action. (This is clear from II. vii. Coroll. and II. xi. Coroll.). Therefore we make an absolute endeavour for its existence, in other words (which by III. ix. note, come to the same thing) we desire and strive for it; this was our first point. Again, if we conceive that something, which we believed to be the cause of pain, that is (III. xiii. note), which we hate, is destroyed, we shall rejoice (III. xx.). We shall, therefore (by the first part of this proof), endeavour to destroy the same, or (III. xiii.) to remove it from us, so that we may not regard it as present; this was our second point. Wherefore whatsoever conduces to pleasure, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—We try, as much as possible, to imagine what we think will bring us pleasure (III. xii.); in other words (II. xvii.), we aim to see it as close to being real or actually existing. But the effort of the mind, or our ability to think, is equal to and happens at the same time as the effort of the body, or the body's ability to act. (This is clear from II. vii. Coroll. and II. xi. Coroll.). Therefore, we make a definite effort for its existence; in other words (which aligns with III. ix. note), we desire and work towards it; this was our first point. Again, if we think that something we believed was causing us pain (that is, something we hate, III. xiii. note) is gone, we will feel joy (III. xx.). So, according to the first part of this proof, we will strive to eliminate it, or (III. xiii.) to keep it away from us, so that we do not see it as present; this was our second point. Therefore, whatever leads to pleasure, etc. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXIX. We shall also endeavour to do whatsoever we conceive men[6] to regard with pleasure, and contrariwise we shall shrink from doing that which we conceive men to shrink from.

PROP. XXIX. We will also try to do whatever we think will please people, and on the other hand, we will avoid doing what we believe people dislike.

[6] By "men" in this and the following propositions, I mean men whom we regard without any particular emotion.

[6] By "men" in this and the following statements, I mean men we consider without any specific feelings.


Proof.—From the fact of imagining, that men love or hate anything, we shall love or hate the same thing (III. xxvii.). That is (III. xiii. note), from this mere fact we shall feel pleasure or pain at the thing's presence. And so we shall endeavour to do whatsoever we conceive men to love or regard with pleasure, etc. Q.E.D.

Proof.—From the idea that people either love or hate something, we too will love or hate the same thing (III. xxvii.). This means (III. xiii. note) that just from this fact, we will experience pleasure or pain when that thing is present. Therefore, we will try to do whatever we think people love or appreciate, etc. Q.E.D.

Note.—This endeavour to do a thing or leave it undone, solely in order to please men, we call ambition, especially when we so eagerly endeavour to please the vulgar, that we do or omit certain things to our own or another's hurt: in other cases it is generally called kindliness. Furthermore I give the name of praise to the pleasure, with which we conceive the action of another, whereby he has endeavoured to please us; but of blame to the pain wherewith we feel aversion to his action.

Note.—This effort to do something or not do it just to please others is what we call ambition, especially when we try so hard to impress the masses that we end up causing harm to ourselves or someone else; in other situations, it's usually referred to as kindness. Also, I refer to the enjoyment we feel when we appreciate someone else's effort to please us as praise, while the discomfort we experience when we dislike someone's actions is called blame.

PROP. XXX. If anyone has done something which he conceives as affecting other men pleasurably, he will be affected by pleasure, accompanied by the idea of himself as cause; in other words, he will regard himself with pleasure. On the other hand, if he has done anything which he conceives as affecting others painfully, he will regard himself with pain.

PROP. XXX. If someone does something they think brings pleasure to others, they will feel pleasure themselves, along with the thought of being the cause; in other words, they will view themselves with pleasure. Conversely, if they do something they believe causes pain to others, they will see themselves with pain.

Proof.—He who conceives, that he affects others with pleasure or pain, will, by that very fact, himself be affected with pleasure or pain (III. xxvii.), but, as a man (II. xix. and xxiii.) is conscious of himself through the modifications whereby he is determined to action, it follows that he who conceives, that he affects others pleasurably, will be affected with pleasure accompanied by the idea of himself as cause; in other words, he will regard himself with pleasure. And so mutatis mutandis in the case of pain. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Whoever believes that they influence others with pleasure or pain will, by that very belief, be affected by pleasure or pain themselves (III. xxvii.). Additionally, since a person (II. xix. and xxiii.) is aware of themselves through the changes that drive them to act, it follows that if someone believes they are causing pleasure in others, they will experience pleasure along with the understanding that they are the cause; in other words, they will feel good about themselves. The same applies, with necessary adjustments, in the case of pain. Q.E.D.

Note.—As love (III. xiii.) is pleasure accompanied by the idea of an external cause, and hatred is pain accompanied by the idea of an external cause; the pleasure and pain in question will be a species of love and hatred. But, as the terms love and hatred are used in reference to external objects, we will employ other names for the emotions now under discussion: pleasure accompanied by the idea of an external cause[7] we will style Honour, and the emotion contrary thereto we will style Shame: I mean in such cases as where pleasure or pain arises from a man's belief, that he is being praised or blamed: otherwise pleasure accompanied by the idea of an external cause[8] is called self—complacency, and its contrary pain is called repentance. Again, as it may happen (II. xvii. Coroll.) that the pleasure, wherewith a man conceives that he affects others, may exist solely in his own imagination, and as (III. xxv.) everyone endeavours to conceive concerning himself that which he conceives will affect him with pleasure, it may easily come to pass that a vain man may be proud and may imagine that he is pleasing to all, when in reality he may be an annoyance to all.

Note.—Since love (III. xiii.) is pleasure linked to an external cause and hatred is pain linked to an external cause, the pleasure and pain we’re talking about will be kinds of love and hatred. However, since love and hatred usually refer to external objects, we'll use different terms for the emotions we’re discussing: pleasure linked to an external cause[7] will be called Honour, and the opposite emotion will be called Shame. I mean in cases where pleasure or pain comes from someone's belief that they are being praised or criticized; otherwise, pleasure linked to an external cause[8] is referred to as self-complacency, and its opposite pain is called repentance. Furthermore, it may happen (II. xvii. Coroll.) that the pleasure a person thinks they bring to others may exist only in their imagination, and since (III. xxv.) everyone tries to conceive what they believe will bring them pleasure, it’s quite possible for a vain person to feel proud and think they are pleasing everyone, when in reality they might be an annoyance to all.

[7] So Van Vloten and Bruder. The Dutch version and Camerer read, "an internal cause." "Honor" = Gloria.

[7] So Van Vloten and Bruder. The Dutch version and Camerer read, "an internal cause." "Honor" = Glory.

[8] See previous endnote.

See earlier footnote.


PROP. XXXI. If we conceive that anyone loves, desires, or hates anything which we ourselves love, desire, or hate, we shall thereupon regard the thing in question with more steadfast love, &c. On the contrary, if we think that anyone shrinks from something that we love, we shall undergo vacillations of soul.

PROP. XXXI. If we think someone loves, desires, or hates something that we love, desire, or hate, we will then view that thing with stronger affection, etc. Conversely, if we believe that someone avoids something we love, we will experience inner turmoil.

Proof.—From the mere fact of conceiving that anyone loves anything we shall ourselves love that thing (III. xxvii.): but we are assumed to love it already; there is, therefore, a new cause of love, whereby our former emotion is fostered; hence we shall thereupon love it more steadfastly. Again, from the mere fact of conceiving that anyone shrinks from anything, we shall ourselves shrink from that thing (III. xxvii.). If we assume that we at the same time love it, we shall then simultaneously love it and shrink from it; in other words, we shall be subject to vacillation (III. xvii. note). Q.E.D.

Proof.—Just by thinking about the fact that someone loves something, we will also come to love that thing (III. xxvii.): but we’re assumed to already have that love; so, there’s a new reason for love, which strengthens our previous feelings; thus, we will love it more consistently. Likewise, by simply imagining that someone avoids something, we will also start avoiding that thing (III. xxvii.). If we assume that we simultaneously love it, we will then both love it and avoid it at the same time; in other words, we will experience confusion (III. xvii. note). Q.E.D.

Corollary.—From the foregoing, and also from III. xxviii. it follows that everyone endeavours, as far as possible, to cause others to love what he himself loves, and to hate what he himself hates: as the poet says: "As lovers let us share every hope and every fear: ironhearted were he who should love what the other leaves."[9]

Corollary.—From the above, and also from III. xxviii. it follows that everyone tries, as much as they can, to make others love what they love and to hate what they hate: as the poet says: "As lovers, let us share every hope and every fear: it would take a hard-hearted person to love what the other ignores."[9]

[9] Ovid, "Amores," II. xix. 4,5. Spinoza transposes the verses.

"Speremus pariter, pariter metuamus amantes;

Ferreus est, si quis, quod sinit alter, amat."

[9] Ovid, "Amores," II. xix. 4,5. Spinoza transposes the verses.

"Let us hope together, and let us fear together, lovers;

He is hard-hearted, if anyone, who allows their partner to love."


Note.—This endeavour to bring it about, that our own likes and dislikes should meet with universal approval, is really ambition (see III. xxix. note); wherefore we see that everyone by nature desires (appetere), that the rest of mankind should live according to his own individual disposition: when such a desire is equally present in all, everyone stands in everyone else's way, and in wishing to be loved or praised by all, all become mutually hateful.

Note.—This effort to ensure that our personal preferences are universally accepted is essentially ambition (see III. xxix. note); thus, we find that everyone naturally wants (appetere) others to live according to their own individual preferences: when this desire is shared by everyone, everyone ends up obstructing each other, and in wanting to be loved or praised by all, everyone becomes mutually resentful.

PROP. XXXII. If we conceive that anyone takes delight in something, which only one person can possess, we shall endeavour to bring it about that the man in question shall not gain possession thereof.

PROP. XXXII. If we think that someone takes pleasure in something that only one person can own, we will try to ensure that the person in question does not acquire it.

Proof.—From the mere fact of our conceiving that another person takes delight in a thing (III. xxvii. and Coroll.) we shall ourselves love that thing and desire to take delight therein. But we assumed that the pleasure in question would be prevented by another's delight in its object; we shall, therefore, endeavour to prevent his possession thereof (III. xxviii.). Q.E.D.

Proof.—From the simple fact that we believe someone else enjoys something (III. xxvii. and Coroll.), we will also love that thing and want to enjoy it ourselves. But we assumed that the pleasure in question would be hindered by another person's enjoyment of it; therefore, we will try to stop them from having it (III. xxviii.). Q.E.D.

Note.—We thus see that man's nature is generally so constituted, that he takes pity on those who fare ill, and envies those who fare well with an amount of hatred proportioned to his own love for the goods in their possession. Further, we see that from the same property of human nature, whence it follows that men are merciful, it follows also that they are envious and ambitious. Lastly, if we make appeal to Experience, we shall find that she entirely confirms what we have said; more especially if we turn our attention to the first years of our life. We find that children, whose body is continually, as it were, in equilibrium, laugh or cry simply because they see others laughing or crying; moreover, they desire forthwith to imitate whatever they see others doing, and to possess themselves of whatever they conceive as delighting others: inasmuch as the images of things are, as we have said, modifications of the human body, or modes wherein the human body is affected and disposed by external causes to act in this or that manner.

Note.—We can see that human nature is generally structured in such a way that people feel compassion for those who are suffering and envy for those who are doing well, with the level of hatred reflecting their own desire for what those others have. Additionally, this same aspect of human nature that leads to mercy also results in envy and ambition. Finally, if we look to experience, we’ll find it confirms what we’ve observed, especially when we consider the early years of our lives. We see that children, whose bodies are constantly in a state of balance, laugh or cry simply because they see others laughing or crying; furthermore, they immediately want to mimic whatever they see others doing and to acquire whatever they think brings joy to others, as the images of things are, as mentioned, expressions of the human body or ways in which the body reacts and is influenced by external factors to behave in certain ways.

PROP. XXXIII. When we love a thing similar to ourselves we endeavour, as far as we can, to bring about that it should love us in return.

PROP. XXXIII. When we love something similar to ourselves, we try, as much as we can, to make it love us back.

Proof.—That which we love we endeavour, as far as we can, to conceive in preference to anything else (III. xii.). If the thing be similar to ourselves, we shall endeavour to affect it pleasurably in preference to anything else (III. xxix.). In other words, we shall endeavour, as far as we can, to bring it about, that the thing should be affected with pleasure accompanied by the idea of ourselves, that is (III. xiii. note), that it should love us in return. Q.E.D.

Proof.—What we love, we try, as much as we can, to envision above anything else (III. xii.). If the object is similar to us, we will try to influence it positively instead of anything else (III. xxix.). In other words, we will strive, as much as possible, to make it so that the object experiences pleasure along with the thought of ourselves, which means (III. xiii. note) that it should love us back. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXXIV. The greater the emotion with which we conceive a loved object to be affected towards us, the greater will be our complacency.

PROP. XXXIV. The stronger the feelings we have about how a loved one feels towards us, the greater our pleasure will be.

Proof.—We endeavour (III. xxxiii.), as far as we can, to bring about, that what we love should love us in return: in other words, that what we love should be affected with pleasure accompanied by the idea of ourself as cause. Therefore, in proportion as the loved object is more pleasurably affected because of us, our endeavour will be assisted.—that is (III. xi. and note) the greater will be our pleasure. But when we take pleasure in the fact, that we pleasurably affect something similar to ourselves, we regard ourselves with pleasure (III. 30); therefore the greater the emotion with which we conceive a loved object to be affected, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—We try (III. xxxiii.) to make it so that what we love will love us back; in other words, we want what we love to feel pleasure while recognizing us as the cause. Therefore, the more the loved object feels pleasure because of us, the more our efforts will succeed—meaning (III. xi. and note) that our pleasure will increase. When we take joy in the fact that we positively influence something similar to us, we see ourselves positively (III. 30); thus, the stronger the emotion we feel about how a loved object is affected, etc. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXXV. If anyone conceives, that an object of his love joins itself to another with closer bonds of friendship than he himself has attained to, he will be affected with hatred towards the loved object and with envy towards his rival.

PROP. XXXV. If someone thinks that the person they love is becoming closer to someone else than they are, they will feel hatred towards the loved one and envy towards their rival.

Proof.—In proportion as a man thinks, that a loved object is well affected towards him, will be the strength of his self—approval (by the last Prop.), that is (III. xxx. note), of his pleasure; he will, therefore (III. xxviii.), endeavour, as far as he can, to imagine the loved object as most closely bound to him: this endeavour or desire will be increased, if he thinks that someone else has a similar desire (III. xxxi.). But this endeavour or desire is assumed to be checked by the image of the loved object in conjunction with the image of him whom the loved object has joined to itself; therefore (III. xi. note) he will for that reason be affected with pain, accompanied by the idea of the loved object as a cause in conjunction with the image of his rival; that is, he will be (III. xiii.) affected with hatred towards the loved object and also towards his rival (III. xv. Coroll.), which latter he will envy as enjoying the beloved object. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The more a person believes that someone they love feels positively toward them, the stronger their self-approval will be, which is linked to their happiness; therefore, they will try as much as they can to imagine the loved one as being closely connected to them. This desire will grow if they think someone else has a similar desire. However, this desire can be suppressed by the image of the loved one alongside the image of the person the loved one has connected with; as a result, they will feel pain because they see the loved one as a cause of their suffering in relation to their rival. This means they will develop feelings of hatred toward both the loved one and the rival, whom they will envy for being with the loved one. Q.E.D.

Note.—This hatred towards an object of love joined with envy is called Jealousy, which accordingly is nothing else but a wavering of the disposition arising from combined love and hatred, accompanied by the idea of some rival who is envied. Further, this hatred towards the object of love will be greater, in proportion to the pleasure which the jealous man had been wont to derive from the reciprocated love of the said object; and also in proportion to the feelings he had previously entertained towards his rival. If he had hated him, he will forthwith hate the object of his love, because he conceives it is pleasurably affected by one whom he himself hates: and also because he is compelled to associate the image of his loved one with the image of him whom he hates. This condition generally comes into play in the case of love for a woman: for he who thinks, that a woman whom he loves prostitutes herself to another, will feel pain, not only because his own desire is restrained, but also because, being compelled to associate the image of her he loves with the parts of shame and the excreta of another, he therefore shrinks from her.

Note.—This hatred towards someone we love, combined with envy, is called Jealousy. It’s basically a conflict in feelings caused by mixed love and hate, along with the idea of a rival who is envied. Additionally, the level of hatred towards the loved one increases based on how much joy the jealous person used to get from that love, as well as how they previously felt about their rival. If they hated the rival, they will immediately start to hate the object of their affection because they believe that person is enjoying something with someone they themselves despise. This is also because they can’t help but connect the image of the one they love with the image of the person they hate. This situation often arises in romantic relationships because if someone thinks that the woman they love is being unfaithful with another man, they will feel pain not just because their desire is denied, but also because they are forced to link the image of their beloved with the shameful parts and the filth of someone else, making them recoil from her.

We must add, that a jealous man is not greeted by his beloved with the same joyful countenance as before, and this also gives him pain as a lover, as I will now show.

We should note that a jealous man isn't welcomed by his loved one with the same joyful expression as before, and this also causes him pain as a lover, as I will now demonstrate.

PROP. XXXVI. He who remembers a thing, in which he has once taken delight, desires to possess it under the same circumstances as when he first took delight therein.

PROP. XXXVI. Whoever remembers something they once enjoyed wants to have it again under the same conditions they experienced it the first time.

Proof.—Everything, which a man has seen in conjunction with the object of his love, will be to him accidentally a cause of pleasure (III. xv.); he will, therefore, desire to possess it, in conjunction with that wherein he has taken delight; in other words, he will desire to possess the object of his love under the same circumstances as when he first took delight therein. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Everything a person has experienced alongside their loved one will become a trigger for pleasure (III. xv.); thus, they will want to have it along with what has brought them joy. In other words, they will want to possess their loved one in the same context as when they first found joy in them. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—A lover will, therefore, feel pain if one of the aforesaid attendant circumstances be missing.

Corollary.—A lover will, therefore, feel pain if any of the previously mentioned circumstances are missing.

Proof.—For, in so far as he finds some circumstance to be missing, he conceives something which excludes its existence. As he is assumed to be desirous for love's sake of that thing or circumstance (by the last Prop.), he will, in so far as he conceives it to be missing, feel pain (III. xix.). Q.E.D.

Proof.—For, as long as he notices that something is missing, he imagines something that rules out its existence. Since it is assumed that he desires that thing or circumstance for the sake of love (by the last Prop.), he will, to the extent that he perceives it as absent, experience pain (III. xix.). Q.E.D.

Note.—This pain, in so far as it has reference to the absence of the object of love, is called Regret.

Note.—This pain, when it relates to the absence of the person we love, is called Regret.

PROP. XXXVII. Desire arising through pain or pleasure, hatred or love, is greater in proportion as the emotion is greater.

PROP. XXXVII. Desire that comes from pain or pleasure, hatred or love, is stronger the more intense the emotion is.

Proof.—Pain diminishes or constrains a man's power of activity (III. xi. note), in other words (III. vii.), diminishes or constrains the effort, wherewith he endeavours to persist in his own being; therefore (III. v.) it is contrary to the said endeavour: thus all the endeavours of a man affected by pain are directed to removing that pain. But (by the definition of pain), in proportion as the pain is greater, so also is it necessarily opposed to a greater part of man's power of activity; therefore the greater the pain, the greater the power of activity employed to remove it; that is, the greater will be the desire or appetite in endeavouring to remove it. Again, since pleasure (III. xi. note) increases or aids a man's power of activity, it may easily be shown in like manner, that a man affected by pleasure has no desire further than to preserve it, and his desire will be in proportion to the magnitude of the pleasure.

Proof.—Pain reduces or limits a person's ability to act (III. xi. note), in other words (III. vii.), it reduces or limits the effort they make to continue existing; therefore (III. v.) it opposes that effort. Thus, all the efforts of a person experiencing pain are focused on getting rid of that pain. But (according to the definition of pain), as the pain increases, it necessarily opposes a larger part of a person's ability to act; therefore, the more intense the pain, the more effort is required to remove it; that is, the greater the desire or urge to alleviate it. Similarly, since pleasure (III. xi. note) enhances a person's ability to act, it can be easily shown that a person experiencing pleasure has no desire other than to maintain it, and their desire will be proportional to the intensity of the pleasure.

Lastly, since hatred and love are themselves emotions of pain and pleasure, it follows in like manner that the endeavour, appetite, or desire, which arises through hatred or love, will be greater in proportion to the hatred or love. Q.E.D.

Lastly, since hatred and love are both emotions that involve pain and pleasure, it makes sense that the effort, craving, or desire that comes from hatred or love will be greater in proportion to the intensity of those feelings. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXXVIII. If a man has begun to hate an object of his love, so that love is thoroughly destroyed, he will, causes being equal, regard it with more hatred than if he had never loved it, and his hatred will be in proportion to the strength of his former love.

PROP. XXXVIII. If a person starts to hate something they once loved, to the point that their love is completely gone, they will, all things being equal, feel even more hatred toward it than if they had never loved it in the first place, and their hatred will be proportional to the intensity of their former love.

Proof.—If a man begins to hate that which he had loved, more of his appetites are put under restraint than if he had never loved it. For love is a pleasure (III. xiii. note) which a man endeavours as far as he can to render permanent (III. xxviii.); he does so by regarding the object of his love as present, and by affecting it as far as he can pleasurably; this endeavour is greater in proportion as the love is greater, and so also is the endeavour to bring about that the beloved should return his affection (III. xxxiii.). Now these endeavours are constrained by hatred towards the object of love (III. xiii. Coroll. and III. xxiii.); wherefore the lover (III. xi. note) will for this cause also be affected with pain, the more so in proportion as his love has been greater; that is, in addition to the pain caused by hatred, there is a pain caused by the fact that he has loved the object; wherefore the lover will regard the beloved with greater pain, or in other words, will hate it more than if he had never loved it, and with the more intensity in proportion as his former love was greater. Q.E.D.

Proof.—If a person starts to hate what they once loved, more of their desires are held back than if they had never loved it at all. Love is a pleasure (III. xiii. note) that a person tries to maintain as much as possible (III. xxviii.); they do this by seeing the object of their love as present and by interacting with it in pleasurable ways. This effort increases with the intensity of the love, as does the desire for the beloved to reciprocate their feelings (III. xxxiii.). Now, these efforts are hindered by hatred towards the loved object (III. xiii. Coroll. and III. xxiii.); thus, the lover (III. xi. note) will also feel pain, and this pain increases with the strength of their love. In other words, in addition to the pain caused by hatred, there is also pain from the fact that they have loved the object; hence, the lover will experience greater pain towards the beloved, or in other words, will hate it more than if they had never loved it, and this intensity increases with the strength of their prior love. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXXIX. He who hates anyone will endeavour to do him an injury, unless he fears that a greater injury will thereby accrue to himself; on the other hand, he who loves anyone will, by the same law, seek to benefit him.

PROP. XXXIX. Anyone who hates someone will try to hurt them, unless they are afraid that it will backfire and hurt them more. On the other hand, anyone who loves someone will, for the same reason, try to help them.

Proof.—To hate a man is (III. xiii. note) to conceive him as a cause of pain; therefore he who hates a man will endeavour to remove or destroy him. But if anything more painful, or, in other words, a greater evil, should accrue to the hater thereby—and if the hater thinks he can avoid such evil by not carrying out the injury, which he planned against the object of his hate—he will desire to abstain from inflicting that injury (III. xxviii.), and the strength of his endeavour (III. xxxvii.) will be greater than his former endeavour to do injury, and will therefore prevail over it, as we asserted. The second part of this proof proceeds in the same manner. Wherefore he who hates another, etc. Q.E.D.

Proof.—To hate someone means to see them as a source of pain; therefore, someone who hates will try to remove or destroy that person. However, if the hater faces something more painful, or in other words, a greater evil as a result—and if they believe they can avoid that evil by not carrying out the planned harm against the person they hate—they will want to refrain from inflicting that harm, and the strength of their desire to refrain will be stronger than their previous desire to cause harm, thus overcoming it, as we stated. The second part of this proof follows the same pattern. Therefore, someone who hates another, etc. Q.E.D.

Note.—By good I here mean every kind of pleasure, and all that conduces thereto, especially that which satisfies our longings, whatsoever they may be. By evil, I mean every kind of pain, especially that which frustrates our longings. For I have shown (III. ix. note) that we in no case desire a thing because we deem it good, but, contrariwise, we deem a thing good because we desire it: consequently we deem evil that which we shrink from; everyone, therefore, according to his particular emotions, judges or estimates what is good, what is bad, what is better, what is worse, lastly, what is best, and what is worst. Thus a miser thinks that abundance of money is the best, and want of money the worst; an ambitious man desires nothing so much as glory, and fears nothing so much as shame. To an envious man nothing is more delightful than another's misfortune, and nothing more painful than another's success. So every man, according to his emotions, judges a thing to be good or bad, useful or useless. The emotion, which induces a man to turn from that which he wishes, or to wish for that which he turns from, is called timidity, which may accordingly be defined as the fear whereby a man is induced to avoid an evil which he regards as future by encountering a lesser evil (III. xxviii.). But if the evil which he fears be shame, timidity becomes bashfulness. Lastly, if the desire to avoid a future evil be checked by the fear of another evil, so that the man knows not which to choose, fear becomes consternation, especially if both the evils feared be very great.

Note.—By good, I mean every kind of pleasure and everything that leads to it, especially what fulfills our desires, whatever they may be. By evil, I mean every kind of pain, particularly what hinders our desires. I have shown (III. ix. note) that we don’t desire something because we think it’s good; rather, we think something is good because we desire it. Consequently, we see as evil what we want to avoid. Therefore, everyone, based on their particular feelings, judges what is good, what is bad, what is better, what is worse, and finally, what is best and what is worst. A miser believes that having lots of money is the best, and lacking money is the worst; an ambitious person longs for glory and fears shame more than anything. To an envious person, there’s nothing more enjoyable than someone else's misfortune and nothing more painful than someone else's success. Thus, everyone judges a thing to be good or bad, useful or useless, based on their emotions. The emotion that causes someone to turn away from what they wish for, or to desire what they turn away from, is called timidity, defined as the fear that leads a person to avoid an evil they see as future by facing a lesser evil (III. xxviii.). However, if the feared evil is shame, timidity becomes bashfulness. Lastly, if the desire to avoid a future evil is stopped by the fear of another evil, so that the person is uncertain about what choice to make, fear turns into panic, especially if both feared evils are quite great.

PROP. XL. He, who conceives himself to be hated by another, and believes that he has given him no cause for hatred, will hate that other in return.

PROP. XL. Someone who thinks they are hated by another person, and believes they’ve done nothing to deserve that hatred, will end up hating that person in return.

Proof.—He who conceives another as affected with hatred, will thereupon be affected himself with hatred (III. xxvii.), that is, with pain, accompanied by the idea of an external cause. But, by the hypothesis, he conceives no cause for this pain except him who is his enemy; therefore, from conceiving that he is hated by some one, he will be affected with pain, accompanied by the idea of his enemy; in other words, he will hate his enemy in return. Q.E.D.

Proof.—If someone perceives another person as filled with hatred, they will also feel hatred themselves (III. xxvii.), which means feeling pain linked to the belief in an outside cause. However, according to the assumption, they see no reason for this pain other than the person they consider their enemy; thus, by believing they are hated by someone, they will experience pain, along with the idea of their enemy. In other words, they will reciprocate the hatred towards their enemy. Q.E.D.

Note.—He who thinks that he has given just cause for hatred will (III. xxx. and note) be affected with shame; but this case (III. xxv.) rarely happens. This reciprocation of hatred may also arise from the hatred, which follows an endeavour to injure the object of our hate (III. xxxix.). He therefore who conceives that he is hated by another will conceive his enemy as the cause of some evil or pain; thus he will be affected with pain or fear, accompanied by the idea of his enemy as cause; in other words, he will be affected with hatred towards his enemy, as I said above.

Note.—A person who believes they have given a valid reason for hate will feel shame; however, this situation is rare. This mutual hatred can also stem from the desire to harm the person we despise. So, someone who thinks they are hated by another will view that person as responsible for some hardship or suffering; as a result, they will feel pain or fear, linked to the idea of their enemy as the cause. In other words, they will develop hatred towards their enemy, as mentioned earlier.

Corollary I.—He who conceives, that one whom he loves hates him, will be a prey to conflicting hatred and love. For, in so far as he conceives that he is an object of hatred, he is determined to hate his enemy in return. But, by the hypothesis, he nevertheless loves him: wherefore he will be a prey to conflicting hatred and love.

Corollary I.—Someone who believes that the person they love hates them will be caught in a struggle between love and hate. Because, to the extent that they think they are hated, they feel compelled to hate back. Yet, according to the assumption, they still love that person: therefore, they will be torn between conflicting feelings of love and hate.

Corollary II.—If a man conceives that one, whom he has hitherto regarded without emotion, has done him any injury from motives of hatred, he will forthwith seek to repay the injury in kind.

Corollary II.—If a person thinks that someone they have previously viewed without feeling has harmed them out of hatred, they will immediately try to get back at them in the same way.

Proof.—He who conceives, that another hates him, will (by the last proposition) hate his enemy in return, and (III. xxvi.) will endeavour to recall everything which can affect him painfully; he will moreover endeavour to do him an injury (III. xxxix.). Now the first thing of this sort which he conceives is the injury done to himself; he will, therefore, forthwith endeavour to repay it in kind. Q.E.D.

Proof.—If someone thinks another person hates them, they will (based on the last point) hate their enemy back and (III. xxvi.) try to remember everything that could hurt them; they will also try to harm that person (III. xxxix.). The first thing they perceive is the harm done to them; therefore, they will immediately try to retaliate. Q.E.D.

Note.—The endeavour to injure one whom we hate is called Anger; the endeavour to repay in kind injury done to ourselves is called Revenge.

Note.—The attempt to harm someone we dislike is called Anger; the attempt to get back at someone who has wronged us is called Revenge.

PROP. XLI. If anyone conceives that he is loved by another, and believes that he has given no cause for such love, he will love that other in return. (Cf. III. xv. Coroll., and III. xvi.)

PROP. XLI. If someone thinks that another person loves them and believes they haven't done anything to deserve that love, they will end up loving that person back. (Cf. III. xv. Coroll., and III. xvi.)

Proof.—This proposition is proved in the same way as the preceding one. See also the note appended thereto.

Proof.—This statement is proven in the same way as the previous one. See also the note attached to it.

Note.—If he believes that he has given just cause for the love, he will take pride therein (III. xxx. and note); this is what most often happens (III. xxv.), and we said that its contrary took place whenever a man conceives himself to be hated by another. (See note to preceding proposition.) This reciprocal love, and consequently the desire of benefiting him who loves us (III. xxxix.), and who endeavours to benefit us, is called gratitude or thankfulness. It thus appears that men are much more prone to take vengeance than to return benefits.

Note.—If he thinks he has given a good reason for the love, he will take pride in it (III. xxx. and note); this is what usually occurs (III. xxv.), and we mentioned that the opposite happens when a man believes he is disliked by another. (See note to preceding proposition.) This mutual love, and therefore the wish to help the person who loves us (III. xxxix.), and who tries to help us, is known as gratitude or thankfulness. It seems that people are much more inclined to seek revenge than to reciprocate kindness.

Corollary.—He who imagines that he is loved by one whom he hates, will be a prey to conflicting hatred and love. This is proved in the same way as the first corollary of the preceding proposition.

Corollary.—Someone who believes they are loved by a person they hate will be tormented by a mix of hate and love. This is shown in the same way as the first corollary of the previous proposition.

Note.—If hatred be the prevailing emotion, he will endeavour to injure him who loves him; this emotion is called cruelty, especially if the victim be believed to have given no ordinary cause for hatred.

Note.—If hatred is the main emotion, he will try to hurt the one who loves him; this emotion is known as cruelty, especially if the victim is thought to have given no significant reason for the hatred.

PROP. XLII. He who has conferred a benefit on anyone from motives of love or honour will feel pain, if he sees that the benefit is received without gratitude.

PROP. XLII. Someone who has done a good deed for another out of love or respect will feel hurt if they see that the good deed is accepted without any appreciation.

Proof.—When a man loves something similar to himself, he endeavours, as far as he can, to bring it about that he should be loved thereby in return (III. xxxiii.). Therefore he who has conferred a benefit confers it in obedience to the desire, which he feels of being loved in return; that is (III. xxxiv.) from the hope of honour or (III. xxx. note) pleasure; hence he will endeavour, as far as he can, to conceive this cause of honour, or to regard it as actually existing. But, by the hypothesis, he conceives something else, which excludes the existence of the said cause of honour: wherefore he will thereat feel pain (III. xix.). Q.E.D.

Proof.—When a person loves someone similar to themselves, they try, as much as possible, to ensure that they are loved back (III. xxxiii.). Therefore, someone who has done a good deed does it out of the desire to be loved in return; that is (III. xxxiv.) from the hope of receiving honor or (III. xxx. note) pleasure; thus, they will try, as much as they can, to imagine this cause of honor or to see it as actually existing. But, according to the hypothesis, they imagine something else that contradicts the existence of that cause of honor: therefore, they will feel pain because of it (III. xix.). Q.E.D.

PROP. XLIII. Hatred is increased by being reciprocated, and can on the other hand be destroyed by love.

PROP. XLIII. Hatred grows when it’s returned, but on the flip side, it can be erased by love.

Proof.—He who conceives, that an object of his hatred hates him in return, will thereupon feel a new hatred, while the former hatred (by hypothesis) still remains (III. xl.). But if, on the other hand, he conceives that the object of hate loves him, he will to this extent (III. xxxviii.) regard himself with pleasure, and (III. xxix.) will endeavour to please the cause of his emotion. In other words, he will endeavour not to hate him (III. xli.), and not to affect him painfully; this endeavour (III. xxxvii.) will be greater or less in proportion to the emotion from which it arises. Therefore, if it be greater than that which arises from hatred, and through which the man endeavours to affect painfully the thing which he hates, it will get the better of it and banish the hatred from his mind. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Someone who believes that an object of their hatred hates them back will then feel a new hatred, while the original hatred (by assumption) still persists (III. xl.). However, if they believe that the object of their hate loves them, they will, to that extent (III. xxxviii.), view themselves positively and (III. xxix.) will try to make the source of their feelings happy. In other words, they will try not to hate that person (III. xli.) and not to cause them pain; this effort (III. xxxvii.) will vary based on the intensity of the emotion from which it comes. Therefore, if this effort is stronger than the emotion linked to hatred, which drives the person to inflict pain on what they hate, it will overcome it and push the hatred out of their mind. Q.E.D.

PROP. XLIV. Hatred which is completely vanquished by love passes into love: and love is thereupon greater than if hatred had not preceded it.

PROP. XLIV. Hatred that is completely overcome by love transforms into love: and as a result, love becomes greater than if hatred had never been present.

Proof.—The proof proceeds in the same way as Prop. xxxviii. of this Part: for he who begins to love a thing, which he was wont to hate or regard with pain, from the very fact of loving feels pleasure. To this pleasure involved in love is added the pleasure arising from aid given to the endeavour to remove the pain involved in hatred (III. xxxvii.), accompanied by the idea of the former object of hatred as cause.

Proof.—The proof follows the same process as Prop. xxxviii. of this Part: someone who starts to love something they used to hate or find painful experiences pleasure simply from the act of loving. This pleasure, linked to love, is enhanced by the satisfaction that comes from trying to relieve the pain associated with hatred (III. xxxvii.), along with the thought of the former object of hatred as the cause.

Note.—Though this be so, no one will endeavour to hate anything, or to be affected with pain, for the sake of enjoying this greater pleasure; that is, no one will desire that he should be injured, in the hope of recovering from the injury, nor long to be ill for the sake of getting well. For everyone will always endeavour to persist in his being, and to ward off pain as far as he can. If the contrary is conceivable, namely, that a man should desire to hate someone, in order that he might love him the more thereafter, he will always desire to hate him. For the strength of love is in proportion to the strength of the hatred, wherefore the man would desire, that the hatred be continually increased more and more, and, for a similar reason, he would desire to become more and more ill, in order that he might take a greater pleasure in being restored to health: in such a case he would always endeavour to be ill, which (III. vi.) is absurd.

Note.—Even so, no one will try to hate anything or seek out pain just to experience a greater pleasure afterward; in other words, no one will want to be harmed with the hope of recovering from it, nor will anyone long to be sick just to enjoy getting better. Everyone will always try to maintain their existence and avoid pain as much as possible. If the opposite were conceivable, that a person would want to hate someone to love them more afterward, they would always want to hate them. The strength of love is proportional to the strength of hatred, so the person would want the hatred to continually increase, and similarly, they would want to be more and more ill to enjoy the restoration to health even more. In that case, they would always try to be sick, which (III. vi.) is absurd.

PROP. XLV. If a man conceives, that anyone similar to himself hates anything also similar to himself, which he loves, he will hate that person.

PROP. XLV. If a person thinks that someone like themselves hates something similar to what they love, they will come to hate that person.

Proof.—The beloved object feels reciprocal hatred towards him who hates it (III. xl.); therefore the lover, in conceiving that anyone hates the beloved object, conceives the beloved thing as affected by hatred, in other words (III. xiii.), by pain; consequently he is himself affected by pain accompanied by the idea of the hater of the beloved thing as cause; that is, he will hate him who hates anything which he himself loves (III. xiii. note). Q.E.D.

Proof.—The cherished object feels mutual hatred towards anyone who hates it (III. xl.); therefore, when the lover believes that someone hates the cherished object, they perceive the cherished thing as being affected by hatred, in other words (III. xiii.), by pain; as a result, they feel pain themselves, along with the idea that the hater of the cherished thing is the cause; that is, they will hate anyone who hates something that they themselves love (III. xiii. note). Q.E.D.

PROP. XLVI. If a man has been affected pleasurably or painfully by anyone, of a class or nation different from his own, and if the pleasure or pain has been accompanied by the idea of the said stranger as cause, under the general category of the class or nation: the man will feel love or hatred, not only to the individual stranger, but also to the whole class or nation whereto he belongs.

PROP. XLVI. If a person has experienced pleasure or pain from someone of a different class or nation, and if that pleasure or pain has been connected to the idea of that stranger as the cause, under the general category of their class or nation: the person will feel love or hatred not only towards the individual stranger but also towards the entire class or nation to which they belong.

Proof.—This is evident from III. xvi.

Proof.—This is clear from III. xvi.

PROP. XLVII. Joy arising from the fact, that anything we hate is destroyed, or suffers other injury, is never unaccompanied by a certain pain in us.

PROP. XLVII. Joy that comes from the destruction or harm of something we hate is always mixed with a certain pain within us.

Proof.—This is evident from III. xxvii. For in so far as we conceive a thing similar to ourselves to be affected with pain, we ourselves feel pain.

Proof.—This is clear from III. xxvii. For to the extent that we imagine something similar to us experiencing pain, we ourselves feel pain.

Note.—This proposition can also be proved from the Corollary to II. xvii. Whenever we remember anything, even if it does not actually exist, we regard it only as present, and the body is affected in the same manner; wherefore, in so far as the remembrance of the thing is strong, a man is determined to regard it with pain; this determination, while the image of the thing in question lasts, is indeed checked by the remembrance of other things excluding the existence of the aforesaid thing, but is not destroyed: hence, a man only feels pleasure in so far as the said determination is checked: for this reason the joy arising from the injury done to what we hate is repeated, every time we remember that object of hatred. For, as we have said, when the image of the thing in question, is aroused, inasmuch as it involves the thing's existence, it determines the man to regard the thing with the same pain as he was wont to do, when it actually did exist. However, since he has joined to the image of the thing other images, which exclude its existence, this determination to pain is forthwith checked, and the man rejoices afresh as often as the repetition takes place. This is the cause of men's pleasure in recalling past evils, and delight in narrating dangers from which they have escaped. For when men conceive a danger, they conceive it as still future, and are determined to fear it; this determination is checked afresh by the idea of freedom, which became associated with the idea of the danger when they escaped therefrom: this renders them secure afresh: therefore they rejoice afresh.

Note.—This idea can also be shown through the Corollary to II. xvii. Whenever we remember something, even if it doesn’t actually exist, we see it as if it’s present, and our body reacts in the same way. As long as the memory of that thing is strong, a person feels compelled to perceive it with pain; this feeling, while the image lasts, is indeed tempered by memories of other things that negate the existence of that particular thing, but it isn’t eliminated. Therefore, a person only feels pleasure to the extent that this urge is held back: this is why the joy from harm done to what we dislike is felt every time we remember that thing we hate. As we mentioned, when the image of that thing comes to mind, because it involves the thing's existence, it pushes the person to feel the same pain as they did when it actually existed. However, since they have associated the image of the thing with other images that exclude its existence, the urge to feel pain is immediately checked, and the person experiences joy each time this happens. This explains why people enjoy reminiscing about past misfortunes and take pleasure in recounting dangers they have escaped. When people think of a danger, they see it as still to come and feel inclined to fear it; this fear is again tempered by the thought of safety, which became linked to the idea of danger when they managed to escape it: this gives them a renewed sense of security; hence, they rejoice again.

PROP. XLVIII. Love or hatred towards, for instance, Peter is destroyed, if the pleasure involved in the former, or the pain involved in the latter emotion, be associated with the idea of another cause: and will be diminished in proportion as we conceive Peter not to have been the sole cause of either emotion.

PROP. XLVIII. Love or hatred towards someone like Peter is diminished if the pleasure from love or the pain from hatred is linked to another cause. The intensity of these feelings decreases as we recognize that Peter is not the only reason for either emotion.

Proof.—This Prop. is evident from the mere definition of love and hatred (III. xiii. note). For pleasure is called love towards Peter, and pain is called hatred towards Peter, simply in so far as Peter is regarded as the cause of one emotion or the other. When this condition of causality is either wholly or partly removed, the emotion towards Peter also wholly or in part vanishes. Q.E.D.

Proof.—This proposition is clear from the basic definition of love and hatred (III. xiii. note). Pleasure is called love for Peter, while pain is referred to as hatred for Peter, purely because Peter is seen as the reason for one emotion or the other. When this connection of causality is completely or partially removed, the feeling towards Peter also completely or partly disappears. Q.E.D.

PROP. XLIX. Love or hatred towards a thing, which we conceive to be free, must, other conditions being similar, be greater than if it were felt towards a thing acting by necessity.

PROP. XLIX. Love or hatred toward something that we perceive as free must, all else being equal, be greater than if it were directed toward something that operates out of necessity.

Proof.—A thing which we conceive as free must (I. Def. vii.) be perceived through itself without anything else. If, therefore, we conceive it as the cause of pleasure or pain, we shall therefore (III. xiii. note) love it or hate it, and shall do so with the utmost love or hatred that can arise from the given emotion. But if the thing which causes the emotion be conceived as acting by necessity, we shall then (by the same Def. vii. Part I.) conceive it not as the sole cause, but as one of the causes of the emotion, and therefore our love or hatred towards it will be less. Q.E.D.

Proof.—A thing we see as free must be understood on its own without any outside influences. If we think of it as the reason for pleasure or pain, we will love or hate it intensely, feeling the strongest emotions possible. However, if we view the thing that causes the emotion as acting out of necessity, we will see it not as the only reason for our feelings, but as one of several factors, which means our love or hatred for it will be weaker. Q.E.D.

Note.—Hence it follows, that men, thinking themselves to be free, feel more love or hatred towards one another than towards anything else: to this consideration we must add the imitation of emotions treated of in III. xxvii., xxxiv., xl. and xliii.

Note.—Therefore, it follows that people, believing themselves to be free, feel more love or hatred towards each other than towards anything else: we must also consider the imitation of emotions discussed in III. xxvii., xxxiv., xl. and xliii.

PROP. L. Anything whatever can be, accidentally, a cause of hope or fear.

PROP. L. Anything can, by chance, be a source of hope or fear.

Proof.—This proposition is proved in the same way as III. xv., which see, together with the note to III. xviii.

Proof.—This proposition is proved the same way as III. xv., which you can see, along with the note to III. xviii.

Note.—Things which are accidentally the causes of hope or fear are called good or evil omens. Now, in so far as such omens are the cause of hope or fear, they are (by the definitions of hope and fear given in III. xviii. note) the causes also of pleasure and pain; consequently we, to this extent, regard them with love or hatred, and endeavour either to invoke them as means towards that which we hope for, or to remove them as obstacles, or causes of that which we fear. It follows, further, from III. xxv., that we are naturally so constituted as to believe readily in that which we hope for, and with difficulty in that which we fear; moreover, we are apt to estimate such objects above or below their true value. Hence there have arisen superstitions, whereby men are everywhere assailed. However, I do not think it worth while to point out here the vacillations springing from hope and fear; it follows from the definition of these emotions, that there can be no hope without fear, and no fear without hope, as I will duly explain in the proper place. Further, in so far as we hope for or fear anything, we regard it with love or hatred; thus everyone can apply by himself to hope and fear what we have said concerning love and hatred.

Note.—Things that accidentally cause hope or fear are referred to as good or evil omens. Insofar as these omens are the sources of hope or fear, they are (according to the definitions of hope and fear provided in III. xviii. note) also the sources of pleasure and pain; thus, we view them with love or hatred and try either to bring them about as means to achieve what we hope for or to remove them as obstacles to what we fear. Additionally, it follows from III. xxv. that we are naturally inclined to believe easily in what we hope for and struggle to believe in what we fear; furthermore, we often misjudge these things as being more or less than their actual value. This has led to superstitions that affect people everywhere. However, I don’t think it’s necessary to highlight the fluctuations caused by hope and fear here; it follows from the definition of these emotions that there can be no hope without fear, and no fear without hope, as I will explain in due time. Moreover, as we hope for or fear something, we regard it with love or hatred; thus, everyone can apply what we’ve discussed about love and hatred to their experiences of hope and fear.

PROP. LI. Different men may be differently affected by the same object, and the same man may be differently affected at different times by the same object.

PROP. LI. Different people can react differently to the same thing, and the same person can react in different ways at different times to the same thing.

Proof.—The human body is affected by external bodies in a variety of ways (II. Post. iii.). Two men may therefore be differently affected at the same time, and therefore (by Ax. i. after Lemma iii. after II. xiii.) may be differently affected by one and the same object. Further (by the same Post.) the human body can be affected sometimes in one way, sometimes in another; consequently (by the same Axiom) it may be differently affected at different times by one and the same object. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The human body can be influenced by external factors in many ways (II. Post. iii.). Two people might react differently at the same moment, and thus (by Ax. i. after Lemma iii. after II. xiii.) could respond differently to the same object. Additionally (by the same Post.), the human body can be affected in different ways at different times; therefore (by the same Axiom), it can be influenced differently at various times by the same object. Q.E.D.

Note.—We thus see that it is possible, that what one man loves another may hate, and that what one man fears another may not fear; or, again, that one and the same man may love what he once hated, or may be bold where he once was timid, and so on. Again, as everyone judges according to his emotions what is good, what bad, what better, and what worse (III. xxxix. note), it follows that men's judgments may vary no less than their emotions[10], hence when we compare some with others, we distinguish them solely by the diversity of their emotions, and style some intrepid, others timid, others by some other epithet. For instance, I shall call a man intrepid, if he despises an evil which I am accustomed to fear; if I further take into consideration, that, in his desire to injure his enemies and to benefit those whom he loves, he is not restrained by the fear of an evil which is sufficient to restrain me, I shall call him daring. Again, a man will appear timid to me, if he fears an evil which I am accustomed to despise; and if I further take into consideration that his desire is restrained by the fear of an evil, which is not sufficient to restrain me, I shall say that he is cowardly; and in like manner will everyone pass judgment.

Note.—We can see that it’s possible for one person to love what another hates, and for one person to fear what another doesn’t fear; or, a single person might come to love something they once hated, or be brave where they used to be timid, and so on. Furthermore, since everyone judges what’s good, bad, better, or worse based on their emotions (III. xxxix. note), it follows that people's judgments can be just as varied as their feelings[10]. So, when we compare some people to others, we distinguish them mostly by their emotional differences, calling some fearless, others fearful, and others by different labels. For example, I would call a person fearless if they disregard a danger that I typically fear; if I also consider that, in their desire to hurt their enemies and help those they care about, they’re not held back by the fear of a danger that can easily stop me, I would label them daring. Conversely, I would see someone as fearful if they dread a danger that I usually mock; and if I notice that their desire is held back by a fear of a danger that doesn’t stop me, I would say they are cowardly. In this way, everyone makes their own judgments.

[10] This is possible, though the human mind is part of the divine intellect, as I have shown in II. xiii. note.

[10] This is possible, even though the human mind is part of the divine intellect, as I have shown in II. xiii. note.


Lastly, from this inconstancy in the nature of human judgment, inasmuch as a man often judges things solely by his emotions, and inasmuch as the things which he believes cause pleasure or pain, and therefore endeavours to promote or prevent, are often purely imaginary, not to speak of the uncertainty of things alluded to in III. xxviii.; we may readily conceive that a man may be at one time affected with pleasure, and at another with pain, accompanied by the idea of himself as cause. Thus we can easily understand what are Repentance and Self—complacency. Repentance is pain, accompanied by the idea of one's self as cause; Self—complacency is pleasure, accompanied by the idea of one's self as cause, and these emotions are most intense because men believe themselves to be free (III. xlix.).

Lastly, because of the inconsistency in human judgment, since a person often makes decisions based solely on his emotions, and since the things he thinks will bring him pleasure or pain are frequently just imaginary—not to mention the uncertainty of things mentioned in III. xxviii.—it's easy to see how one can feel pleasure at one moment and pain at another, while also thinking of himself as the cause. This helps us understand what Repentance and Self-complacency are. Repentance is the pain that comes with seeing oneself as the cause, while Self-complacency is the pleasure that comes with that same idea, and these feelings are particularly strong because people believe they are free (III. xlix.).

PROP. LII. An object which we have formerly seen in conjunction with others, and which we do not conceive to have any property that is not common to many, will not be regarded by us for so long, as an object which we conceive to have some property peculiar to itself.

PROP. LII. An object that we have previously seen alongside others and that we don’t believe has any unique qualities will not catch our attention as long as an object that we think possesses something special.

Proof.—As soon as we conceive an object which we have seen in conjunction with others, we at once remember those others (II. xviii. and note), and thus we pass forthwith from the contemplation of one object to the contemplation of another object. And this is the case with the object, which we conceive to have no property that is not common to many. For we thereupon assume that we are regarding therein nothing, which we have not before seen in conjunction with other objects. But when we suppose that we conceive an object something special, which we have never seen before, we must needs say that the mind, while regarding that object, has in itself nothing which it can fall to regarding instead thereof; therefore it is determined to the contemplation of that object only. Therefore an object, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—As soon as we think of an object we’ve seen alongside others, we immediately remember those others (II. xviii. and note), and thus we quickly move from thinking about one object to thinking about another. This applies to the object that we believe has no unique feature that isn’t shared by many. For in that case, we assume that we are looking at nothing that we haven’t experienced before alongside other objects. But when we think we have in mind something special that we've never seen before, we have to say that the mind, while focusing on that object, doesn’t have anything else to fall back on; therefore, it is focused solely on the contemplation of that object. Thus, an object, etc. Q.E.D.

Note.—This mental modification, or imagination of a particular thing, in so far as it is alone in the mind, is called Wonder; but if it be excited by an object of fear, it is called Consternation, because wonder at an evil keeps a man so engrossed in the simple contemplation thereof, that he has no power to think of anything else whereby he might avoid the evil. If, however, the object of wonder be a man's prudence, industry, or anything of that sort, inasmuch as the said man, is thereby regarded as far surpassing ourselves, wonder is called Veneration; otherwise, if a man's anger, envy, &c., be what we wonder at, the emotion is called Horror. Again, if it be the prudence, industry, or what not, of a man we love, that we wonder at, our love will on this account be the greater (III. xii.), and when joined to wonder or veneration is called Devotion. We may in like manner conceive hatred, hope, confidence, and the other emotions, as associated with wonder; and we should thus be able to deduce more emotions than those which have obtained names in ordinary speech. Whence it is evident, that the names of the emotions have been applied in accordance rather with their ordinary manifestations than with an accurate knowledge of their nature.

Note.—This mental change, or imagining of a specific thing, when it's solely in the mind, is called Wonder; but if it’s triggered by something frightening, it's referred to as Consternation, because being in awe of something bad keeps a person so focused on that one thought that they can't think of anything else that might help them avoid it. However, if the object of wonder is someone's wisdom, hard work, or something similar, since that person is viewed as far superior to us, this wonder is called Veneration; on the other hand, if it’s a person’s anger, jealousy, etc., that we find astounding, that feeling is known as Horror. Similarly, if it's the wisdom, hard work, or anything else of someone we love that captivates us, our love will grow stronger on this account (III. xii.), and when combined with wonder or veneration, it's called Devotion. We can also think of feelings like hatred, hope, confidence, and other emotions as related to wonder; doing so would allow us to identify more feelings than those that have specific names in everyday language. Therefore, it’s clear that the names for emotions have been applied based more on their common expressions than on a precise understanding of their true nature.

To wonder is opposed Contempt, which generally arises from the fact that, because we see someone wondering at, loving, or fearing something, or because something, at first sight, appears to be like things, which we ourselves wonder at, love, fear, &c., we are, in consequence (III. xv. Coroll. and III. xxvii.), determined to wonder at, love, or fear that thing. But if from the presence, or more accurate contemplation of the said thing, we are compelled to deny concerning it all that can be the cause of wonder, love, fear, &c., the mind then, by the presence of the thing, remains determined to think rather of those qualities which are not in it, than of those which are in it; whereas, on the other hand, the presence of the object would cause it more particularly to regard that which is therein. As devotion springs from wonder at a thing which we love, so does Derision spring from contempt of a thing which we hate or fear, and Scorn from contempt of folly, as veneration from wonder at prudence. Lastly, we can conceive the emotions of love, hope, honour, &c., in association with contempt, and can thence deduce other emotions, which are not distinguished one from another by any recognized name.

To wonder is the opposite of contempt, which usually comes from the fact that when we see someone marveling at, loving, or fearing something, or when something initially seems similar to things we ourselves marvel at, love, or fear, we are then inclined to also wonder at, love, or fear that thing. But if, upon closer observation of that thing, we find we can't affirm anything that would normally cause wonder, love, fear, etc., our mind is then fixated more on the qualities it lacks rather than those it possesses; whereas, conversely, the presence of the object would prompt us to focus more on what it contains. Just as devotion comes from marveling at something we love, derision comes from contempt for something we hate or fear, and scorn arises from disdain for foolishness, while reverence comes from wonder at wisdom. Finally, we can understand feelings like love, hope, and honor in connection with contempt, from which we can then infer other emotions that don’t have recognized names.

PROP. LIII. When the mind regards itself and its own power of activity, it feels pleasure: and that pleasure is greater in proportion to the distinctness wherewith it conceives itself and its own power of activity.

PROP. LIII. When the mind reflects on itself and its own ability to act, it experiences pleasure, and that pleasure increases in relation to how clearly it understands itself and its own ability to act.

Proof.—A man does not know himself except through the modifications of his body, and the ideas thereof (II. xix. and xxiii.). When, therefore, the mind is able to contemplate itself, it is thereby assumed to pass to a greater perfection, or (III. xi. note) to feel pleasure; and the pleasure will be greater in proportion to the distinctness, wherewith it is able to conceive itself and its own power of activity. Q.E.D.

Proof.—A person only understands themselves through the changes in their body and the thoughts related to those changes (II. xix. and xxiii.). So, when the mind can reflect on itself, it is thought to reach a higher level of perfection, or (III. xi. note) to experience pleasure; and this pleasure increases with how clearly it can imagine itself and its own ability to act. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—This pleasure is fostered more and more, in proportion as a man conceives himself to be praised by others. For the more he conceives himself as praised by others, the more he will imagine them to be affected with pleasure, accompanied by the idea of himself (III. xxix. note); thus he is (III. xxvii.) himself affected with greater pleasure, accompanied by the idea of himself. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—This pleasure grows stronger as a person believes they are being praised by others. The more they think others are praising them, the more they will assume those people are feeling pleasure linked to their own image (III. xxix. note); in turn, they themselves experience even greater pleasure tied to their self-image. Q.E.D.

PROP. LIV. The mind endeavours to conceive only such things as assert its power of activity.

PROP. LIV. The mind tries to imagine only things that confirm its ability to act.

Proof.—The endeavour or power of the mind is the actual essence thereof (III. vii.); but the essence of the mind obviously only affirms that which the mind is and can do; not that which it neither is nor can do; therefore the mind endeavours to conceive only such things as assert or affirm its power of activity. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The effort or capability of the mind is its true essence (III. vii.); but the essence of the mind clearly only confirms what the mind is and what it can do, not what it is not or cannot do; therefore, the mind strives to understand only things that affirm or assert its ability to act. Q.E.D.

PROP. LV. When the mind contemplates its own weakness, it feels pain thereat.

PROP. LV. When the mind reflects on its own weaknesses, it experiences pain because of it.

Proof.—The essence of the mind only affirms that which the mind is, or can do; in other words, it is the mind's nature to conceive only such things as assert its power of activity (last Prop.). Thus, when we say that the mind contemplates its own weakness, we are merely saying that while the mind is attempting to conceive something which asserts its power of activity, it is checked in its endeavour——in other words (III. xi. note), it feels pain. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The essence of the mind only confirms what the mind is or what it can do; in other words, it's the nature of the mind to only think about things that demonstrate its ability to act (last Prop.). So, when we say that the mind reflects on its own weakness, we are basically saying that while the mind is trying to think of something that shows its ability to act, it gets hindered in that effort—in other words (III. xi. note), it feels pain. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—This pain is more and more fostered, if a man conceives that he is blamed by others; this may be proved in the same way as the corollary to III. liii.

Corollary.—This pain increases if a person feels that others are blaming them; this can be demonstrated in the same manner as the corollary to III. liii.

Note.—This pain, accompanied by the idea of our own weakness, is called humility; the pleasure, which springs from the contemplation of ourselves, is called self—love or self—complacency. And inasmuch as this feeling is renewed as often as a man contemplates his own virtues, or his own power of activity, it follows that everyone is fond of narrating his own exploits, and displaying the force both of his body and mind, and also that, for this reason, men are troublesome to one another. Again, it follows that men are naturally envious (III. xxiv. note, and III. xxxii. note), rejoicing in the shortcomings of their equals, and feeling pain at their virtues. For whenever a man conceives his own actions, he is affected with pleasure (III. liii.), in proportion as his actions display more perfection, and he conceives them more distinctly—that is (II. xl. note), in proportion as he can distinguish them from others, and regard them as something special. Therefore, a man will take most pleasure in contemplating himself, when he contemplates some quality which he denies to others. But, if that which he affirms of himself be attributable to the idea of man or animals in general, he will not be so greatly pleased: he will, on the contrary, feel pain, if he conceives that his own actions fall short when compared with those of others. This pain (III. xxviii.) he will endeavour to remove, by putting a wrong construction on the actions of his equals, or by, as far as he can, embellishing his own.

Note.—This pain, paired with the awareness of our own shortcomings, is called humility; the pleasure that comes from reflecting on ourselves is called self-love or self-satisfaction. Since this feeling is renewed every time someone thinks about their own virtues or their own ability to act, it follows that people enjoy sharing their achievements and showcasing their physical and mental strengths, which is also why people can be bothersome to one another. Additionally, this results in a natural tendency toward envy (III. xxiv. note, and III. xxxii. note), finding joy in the failures of others while feeling pain at their successes. Whenever someone reflects on their own actions, they experience pleasure (III. liii.), particularly when those actions show more excellence, and they can visualize them clearly—that is (II. xl. note), as long as they can differentiate their actions from others and see them as unique. Thus, a person will find the most enjoyment when they contemplate a quality they believe sets them apart from others. However, if what they recognize in themselves applies to humans or animals in general, they won’t feel as pleased; instead, they will likely feel discomfort if they believe their actions fall short compared to those of others. To alleviate this pain (III. xxviii.), they might misinterpret the actions of their peers or, as much as possible, enhance their own.

It is thus apparent that men are naturally prone to hatred and envy, which latter is fostered by their education. For parents are accustomed to incite their children to virtue solely by the spur of honour and envy. But, perhaps, some will scruple to assent to what I have said, because we not seldom admire men's virtues, and venerate their possessors. In order to remove such doubts, I append the following corollary.

It’s clear that men are naturally inclined towards hatred and envy, with the latter being encouraged by their upbringing. Parents often motivate their children to be virtuous primarily through the drive of honor and jealousy. However, some might hesitate to agree with this because we often admire people’s virtues and respect those who have them. To address these concerns, I present the following point.

Corollary.—No one envies the virtue of anyone who is not his equal.

Corollary.—No one admires the good qualities of someone who isn't their equal.

Proof.—Envy is a species of hatred (III. xxiv. note) or (III. xiii. note) pain, that is (III. xi. note), a modification whereby a man's power of activity, or endeavour towards activity, is checked. But a man does not endeavour or desire to do anything, which cannot follow from his nature as it is given; therefore a man will not desire any power of activity or virtue (which is the same thing) to be attributed to him, that is appropriate to another's nature and foreign to his own; hence his desire cannot be checked, nor he himself pained by the contemplation of virtue in some one unlike himself, consequently he cannot envy such an one. But he can envy his equal, who is assumed to have the same nature as himself. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Envy is a form of hatred (III. xxiv. note) or (III. xiii. note) pain, which means (III. xi. note) it’s a change that stops a person’s ability to act or try to act. However, a person does not try or want to do anything that is not possible given their own nature; therefore, a person won’t want any ability or virtue (which are the same) that is suited to someone else’s nature and not their own. This means their desires can’t be hindered, nor can they feel pain from seeing the virtue in someone who is different from them, so they can’t envy that person. But they can feel envy towards someone who is their equal, who is assumed to have the same nature as they do. Q.E.D.

Note.—When, therefore, as we said in the note to III. lii., we venerate a man, through wonder at his prudence, fortitude, &c., we do so, because we conceive those qualities to be peculiar to him, and not as common to our nature; we, therefore, no more envy their possessor, than we envy trees for being tall, or lions for being courageous.

Note.—When we admire a person for their wisdom, bravery, etc., as we mentioned in the note to III. lii., we do so because we believe those qualities are unique to them, not something we all share; thus, we don't envy them any more than we envy trees for their height or lions for their courage.

PROP. LVI. There are as many kinds of pleasure, of pain, of desire, and of every emotion compounded of these, such as vacillations of spirit, or derived from these, such as love, hatred, hope, fear, &c., as there are kinds of objects whereby we are affected.

PROP. LVI. There are as many types of pleasure, pain, desire, and every emotion made up of these, like fluctuations of mood, or stemming from these, like love, hatred, hope, fear, etc., as there are kinds of objects that influence us.

Proof.—Pleasure and pain, and consequently the emotions compounded thereof, or derived therefrom, are passions, or passive states (III. xi. note); now we are necessarily passive (III. i.), in so far as we have inadequate ideas; and only in so far as we have such ideas are we passive (III. iii.); that is, we are only necessarily passive (II. xl. note), in so far as we conceive, or (II. xvii. and note) in so far as we are affected by an emotion, which involves the nature of our own body, and the nature of an external body. Wherefore the nature of every passive state must necessarily be so explained, that the nature of the object whereby we are affected be expressed. Namely, the pleasure, which arises from, say, the object A, involves the nature of that object A, and the pleasure, which arises from the object B, involves the nature of the object B; wherefore these two pleasurable emotions are by nature different, inasmuch as the causes whence they arise are by nature different. So again the emotion of pain, which arises from one object, is by nature different from the pain arising from another object, and, similarly, in the case of love, hatred, hope, fear, vacillation, &c.

Proof.—Pleasure and pain, along with the emotions that come from them or are influenced by them, are experiences or passive states (III. xi. note); we are inherently passive (III. i.) as long as we have unclear ideas; and we are passive only when we have such ideas (III. iii.); in other words, we are only necessarily passive (II. xl. note) to the extent that we understand, or (II. xvii. and note) to the extent that we are influenced by an emotion that reflects the nature of our own body and the nature of an external body. Therefore, the nature of every passive state must be understood in a way that reflects the nature of the object that affects us. For example, the pleasure that comes from object A involves the nature of that object A, and the pleasure that comes from object B involves the nature of that object B; hence, these two pleasurable emotions are inherently different because the causes of their emergence are different. Similarly, the pain that arises from one object is different by nature from the pain that comes from another object, and the same applies to emotions like love, hatred, hope, fear, uncertainty, etc.

Thus, there are necessarily as many kinds of pleasure, pain, love, hatred, &c., as there are kinds of objects whereby we are affected. Now desire is each man's essence or nature, in so far as it is conceived as determined to a particular action by any given modification of itself (III. ix. note); therefore, according as a man is affected through external causes by this or that kind of pleasure, pain, love, hatred, &c., in other words, according as his nature is disposed in this or that manner, so will his desire be of one kind or another, and the nature of one desire must necessarily differ from the nature of another desire, as widely as the emotions differ, wherefrom each desire arose. Thus there are as many kinds of desire, as there are kinds of pleasure, pain, love, &c., consequently (by what has been shown) there are as many kinds of desire, as there are kinds of objects whereby we are affected. Q.E.D.

So, there are as many types of pleasure, pain, love, hatred, etc., as there are types of objects that affect us. Now, desire is part of each person's essence or nature, as it is defined by being directed toward a specific action due to any particular change within itself (III. ix. note); therefore, how a person is impacted by various types of pleasure, pain, love, hatred, etc.—in other words, how their nature is shaped in one way or another—will determine the kind of desire they have. The nature of one desire will differ significantly from another, just as the emotions that generated each desire differ. Thus, there are as many kinds of desire as there are types of pleasure, pain, love, etc., meaning (as we've shown) that there are as many kinds of desire as there are objects that affect us. Q.E.D.

Note.—Among the kinds of emotions, which, by the last proposition, must be very numerous, the chief are luxury, drunkenness, lust, avarice, and ambition, being merely species of love or desire, displaying the nature of those emotions in a manner varying according to the object, with which they are concerned. For by luxury, drunkenness, lust, avarice, ambition, &c., we simply mean the immoderate love of feasting, drinking, venery, riches, and fame. Furthermore, these emotions, in so far as we distinguish them from others merely by the objects wherewith they are concerned, have no contraries. For temperance, sobriety, and chastity, which we are wont to oppose to luxury, drunkenness, and lust, are not emotions or passive states, but indicate a power of the mind which moderates the last—named emotions. However, I cannot here explain the remaining kinds of emotions (seeing that they are as numerous as the kinds of objects), nor, if I could, would it be necessary. It is sufficient for our purpose, namely, to determine the strength of the emotions, and the mind's power over them, to have a general definition of each emotion. It is sufficient, I repeat, to understand the general properties of the emotions and the mind, to enable us to determine the quality and extent of the mind's power in moderating and checking the emotions. Thus, though there is a great difference between various emotions of love, hatred, or desire, for instance between love felt towards children, and love felt towards a wife, there is no need for us to take cognizance of such differences, or to track out further the nature and origin of the emotions.

Note.—Among the types of emotions, which, based on the last point, must be very numerous, the main ones are luxury, drunkenness, lust, greed, and ambition, all of which are just different forms of love or desire, showing the nature of those emotions in ways that change depending on the object they're related to. By luxury, drunkenness, lust, greed, ambition, &c., we simply mean the excessive love of feasting, drinking, sexual pleasure, wealth, and fame. Furthermore, these emotions, in so far as we distinguish them by the objects they are connected to, have no opposites. For temperance, sobriety, and chastity, which we usually set against luxury, drunkenness, and lust, are not emotions or passive states; they represent a mental capability that controls the latter emotions. However, I can't elaborate on the other types of emotions here (since they are as numerous as the types of objects), nor would it be necessary even if I could. It's enough for our purpose, which is to determine the strength of the emotions and the mind's power over them, to have a general definition of each emotion. I say again that it's sufficient to understand the general properties of the emotions and the mind to enable us to determine the quality and extent of the mind's power in moderating and checking the emotions. Thus, although there is a significant difference between various emotions like love, hatred, or desire, for example, the love felt for children compared to the love felt for a spouse, there's no need for us to focus on those differences or to further explore the nature and origin of the emotions.

PROP. LVII. Any emotion of a given individual differs from the emotion of another individual, only in so far as the essence of the one individual differs from the essence of the other.

PROP. LVII. Any person's emotion differs from another person's emotion only to the extent that the nature of one individual differs from the nature of the other.

Proof.—This proposition is evident from Ax. i. (which see after Lemma iii. Prop. xiii., Part II.). Nevertheless, we will prove it from the nature of the three primary emotions.

Proof.—This proposition is clear from Ax. i. (which see after Lemma iii. Prop. xiii., Part II.). However, we will prove it based on the nature of the three primary emotions.

All emotions are attributable to desire, pleasure, or pain, as their definitions above given show. But desire is each man's nature or essence (III. ix. note); therefore desire in one individual differs from desire in another individual, only in so far as the nature or essence of the one differs from the nature or essence of the other. Again, pleasure and pain are passive states or passions, whereby every man's power or endeavour to persist in his being is increased or diminished, helped or hindered (III. xi. and note). But by the endeavour to persist in its being, in so far as it is attributable to mind and body in conjunction, we mean appetite and desire (III. ix. note); therefore pleasure and pain are identical with desire or appetite, in so far as by external causes they are increased or diminished, helped or hindered, in other words, they are every man's nature; wherefore the pleasure and pain felt by one man differ from the pleasure and pain felt by another man, only in so far as the nature or essence of the one man differs from the essence of the other; consequently, any emotion of one individual only differs, &c. Q.E.D.

All emotions stem from desire, pleasure, or pain, as the definitions provided above indicate. Desire represents a person's nature or essence (III. ix. note); thus, the desire of one person differs from that of another only to the extent that their natures or essences differ. Additionally, pleasure and pain are passive experiences or passions that either enhance or diminish a person's ability to sustain their existence (III. xi. and note). When we talk about the effort to persist in existence, which relates to both mind and body, we refer to appetite and desire (III. ix. note); therefore, pleasure and pain are the same as desire or appetite, since they can be increased or decreased, supported or obstructed by external factors, meaning they are part of everyone’s nature. As a result, the pleasure and pain experienced by one person differ from those experienced by another only in how their natures or essences differ; thus, any emotion felt by one individual differs, etc. Q.E.D.

Note.—Hence it follows, that the emotions of the animals which are called irrational (for after learning the origin of mind we cannot doubt that brutes feel) only differ from man's emotions, to the extent that brute nature differs from human nature. Horse and man are alike carried away by the desire of procreation; but the desire of the former is equine, the desire of the latter is human. So also the lusts and appetites of insects, fishes, and birds must needs vary according to the several natures. Thus, although each individual lives content and rejoices in that nature belonging to him wherein he has his being, yet the life, wherein each is content and rejoices, is nothing else but the idea, or soul, of the said individual, and hence the joy of one only differs in nature from the joy of another, to the extent that the essence of one differs from the essence of another. Lastly, it follows from the foregoing proposition, that there is no small difference between the joy which actuates, say, a drunkard, and the joy possessed by a philosopher, as I just mention here by the way. Thus far I have treated of the emotions attributable to man, in so far as he is passive. It remains to add a few words on those attributable to him in so far as he is active.

Note.—It follows that the emotions of animals, often called irrational (since after understanding the origin of the mind, we cannot doubt that they feel), only differ from human emotions to the extent that animal nature differs from human nature. Both horses and humans are driven by the desire for procreation; however, the horse's desire is equine, while the human's desire is human. Similarly, the desires and needs of insects, fish, and birds must vary according to their different natures. Therefore, while each individual lives in contentment and finds joy in their own nature, that life—which brings contentment and joy—is really just the idea, or soul, of that individual. Thus, the joy of one being differs from the joy of another only in the ways that their essences differ. Lastly, it can be observed that there is a significant difference between the joy that drives a drunkard and the joy experienced by a philosopher, just as a side note. So far, I have discussed the emotions attributed to humans as passive beings. I now need to add a few words about those emotions attributed to them as active beings.

PROP. LVIII. Besides pleasure and desire, which are passivities or passions, there are other emotions derived from pleasure and desire, which are attributable to us in so far as we are active.

PROP. LVIII. Besides pleasure and desire, which are passive feelings, there are other emotions that come from pleasure and desire, and these are associated with us as far as we are active.

Proof.—When the mind conceives itself and its power of activity, it feels pleasure (III. liii.): now the mind necessarily contemplates itself, when it conceives a true or adequate idea (II. xliii.). But the mind does conceive certain adequate ideas (II. xl. note 2.). Therefore it feels pleasure in so far as it conceives adequate ideas; that is, in so far as it is active (III. i.). Again, the mind, both in so far as it has clear and distinct ideas, and in so far as it has confused ideas, endeavours to persist in its own being (III. ix.); but by such an endeavour we mean desire (by the note to the same Prop.); therefore, desire is also attributable to us, in so far as we understand, or (III. i.) in so far as we are active. Q.E.D.

Proof.—When the mind understands itself and its ability to act, it experiences pleasure (III. liii.): the mind necessarily reflects on itself when it forms a true or adequate idea (II. xliii.). However, the mind does create certain adequate ideas (II. xl. note 2.). Therefore, it feels pleasure to the extent that it generates adequate ideas; that is, to the extent that it is active (III. i.). Additionally, the mind, both in terms of having clear and distinct ideas and having confused ideas, strives to persist in its own existence (III. ix.); and by this striving, we mean desire (as noted in the same Proposition); thus, desire is also assigned to us, to the extent that we understand, or (III. i.) to the extent that we are active. Q.E.D.

PROP. LIX. Among all the emotions attributable to the mind as active, there are none which cannot be referred to pleasure or desire.

PROP. LIX. Among all the emotions that can be attributed to the active mind, there are none that cannot be connected to pleasure or desire.

Proof.—All emotions can be referred to desire, pleasure, or pain, as their definitions, already given, show. Now by pain we mean that the mind's power of thinking is diminished or checked (III. xi. and note); therefore, in so far as the mind feels pain, its power of understanding, that is, of activity, is diminished or checked (III. i.); therefore, no painful emotions can be attributed to the mind in virtue of its being active, but only emotions of pleasure and desire, which (by the last Prop.) are attributable to the mind in that condition. Q.E.D.

Proof.—All emotions can be linked to desire, pleasure, or pain, as their definitions already indicate. Now, by pain, we mean that the mind's ability to think is reduced or hindered (III. xi. and note); therefore, to the extent that the mind experiences pain, its capacity for understanding, that is, for activity, is reduced or hindered (III. i.); consequently, no painful emotions can be connected to the mind because it is active, but only emotions of pleasure and desire, which (by the last Prop.) can be associated with the mind in that state. Q.E.D.

Note.—All actions following from emotion, which are attributable to the mind in virtue of its understanding, I set down to strength of character (fortitudo), which I divide into courage (animositas) and highmindedness (generositas). By courage I mean the desire whereby every man strives to preserve his own being in accordance solely with the dictates of reason. By highmindedness I mean the desire whereby every man endeavours, solely under the dictates of reason, to aid other men and to unite them to himself in friendship. Those actions, therefore, which have regard solely to the good of the agent I set down to courage, those which aim at the good of others I set down to highmindedness. Thus temperance, sobriety, and presence of mind in danger, &c., are varieties of courage; courtesy, mercy, &c., are varieties of highmindedness.

Note.—All actions that come from emotion and are linked to the mind's understanding, I attribute to strength of character (fortitudo), which I split into courage (animositas) and high-mindedness (generositas). By courage, I mean the desire that drives each person to maintain their existence solely based on the guidance of reason. By high-mindedness, I refer to the desire that leads each person, guided only by reason, to support others and connect with them in friendship. So, actions focused solely on the individual's benefit I classify as courage, while those aimed at benefiting others I classify as high-mindedness. Therefore, actions like self-control, sobriety, and calmness in danger, etc., are forms of courage; kindness, compassion, etc., are forms of high-mindedness.

I think I have thus explained, and displayed through their primary causes the principal emotions and vacillations of spirit, which arise from the combination of the three primary emotions, to wit, desire, pleasure, and pain. It is evident from what I have said, that we are in many ways driven about by external causes, and that like waves of the sea driven by contrary winds we toss to and fro unwitting of the issue and of our fate. But I have said, that I have only set forth the chief conflicting emotions, not all that might be given. For, by proceeding in the same way as above, we can easily show that love is united to repentance, scorn, shame, &c. I think everyone will agree from what has been said, that the emotions may be compounded one with another in so many ways, and so many variations may arise therefrom, as to exceed all possibility of computation. However, for my purpose, it is enough to have enumerated the most important; to reckon up the rest which I have omitted would be more curious than profitable. It remains to remark concerning love, that it very often happens that while we are enjoying a thing which we longed for, the body, from the act of enjoyment, acquires a new disposition, whereby it is determined in another way, other images of things are aroused in it, and the mind begins to conceive and desire something fresh. For example, when we conceive something which generally delights us with its flavour, we desire to enjoy, that is, to eat it. But whilst we are thus enjoying it, the stomach is filled and the body is otherwise disposed. If, therefore, when the body is thus otherwise disposed, the image of the food which is present be stimulated, and consequently the endeavour or desire to eat it be stimulated also, the new disposition of the body will feel repugnance to the desire or attempt, and consequently the presence of the food which we formerly longed for will become odious. This revulsion of feeling is called satiety or weariness. For the rest, I have neglected the outward modifications of the body observable in emotions, such, for instance, as trembling, pallor, sobbing, laughter, &c., for these are attributable to the body only, without any reference to the mind. Lastly, the definitions of the emotions require to be supplemented in a few points; I will therefore repeat them, interpolating such observations as I think should here and there be added.

I think I've explained and shown through their main causes the key emotions and shifts in mood that come from the mix of three primary feelings: desire, pleasure, and pain. It's clear from what I've mentioned that we are often influenced by external factors, and like waves in the ocean buffeted by opposing winds, we are tossed around without knowing the outcome or our fate. However, I've stated that I've only outlined the major conflicting emotions, not all that could be identified. Because if we continued in the same manner as before, we could easily demonstrate that love is connected to feelings like regret, disdain, shame, and so on. I believe everyone will agree, based on what’s been said, that emotions can combine in countless ways, leading to so many variations that it's impossible to track them all. For my purposes, however, it's sufficient to have mentioned the most significant ones; counting the rest that I've left out would be more about curiosity than usefulness. It’s worth noting that regarding love, it often happens that while we are enjoying something we desired, our body, through that enjoyment, takes on a new state, which causes us to think of and crave something different. For instance, when we think of something that usually delights us with its taste, we want to enjoy it, meaning we want to eat it. But while we're indulging in it, our stomach fills up and the body shifts in its state. So, if while the body is in this new state, the thought of the food we're consuming comes up, and as a result, the urge or desire to eat again is sparked, the new state of the body will push back against that desire or attempt, and thus the food we once longed for will start to seem unappealing. This feeling of aversion is called satiety or weariness. I’ve also overlooked the physical changes in the body that occur with emotions, like trembling, paleness, crying, laughing, etc., as these are purely physical reactions without regard to the mind. Lastly, the definitions of the emotions need some additions; therefore, I will restate them, adding any observations I think should be included here and there.


DEFINITIONS OF THE EMOTIONS

I. Desire is the actual essence of man, in so far as it is conceived, as determined to a particular activity by some given modification of itself.

I. Desire is the true essence of a person, as it is understood, directed towards a specific activity by a certain change in itself.

Explanation.—We have said above, in the note to Prop. ix. of this part, that desire is appetite, with consciousness thereof; further, that appetite is the essence of man, in so far as it is determined to act in a way tending to promote its own persistence. But, in the same note, I also remarked that, strictly speaking, I recognize no distinction between appetite and desire. For whether a man be conscious of his appetite or not, it remains one and the same appetite. Thus, in order to avoid the appearance of tautology, I have refrained from explaining desire by appetite; but I have take care to define it in such a manner, as to comprehend, under one head, all those endeavours of human nature, which we distinguish by the terms appetite, will, desire, or impulse. I might, indeed, have said, that desire is the essence of man, in so far as it is conceived as determined to a particular activity; but from such a definition (cf. II. xxiii.) it would not follow that the mind can be conscious of its desire or appetite. Therefore, in order to imply the cause of such consciousness, it was necessary to add, in so far as it is determined by some given modification, &c. For, by a modification of man's essence, we understand every disposition of the said essence, whether such disposition be innate, or whether it be conceived solely under the attribute of thought, or solely under the attribute of extension, or whether, lastly, it be referred simultaneously to both these attributes. By the term desire, then, I here mean all man's endeavours, impulses, appetites, and volitions, which vary according to each man's disposition, and are, therefore, not seldom opposed one to another, according as a man is drawn in different directions, and knows not where to turn.

Explanation.—As mentioned earlier, in the note to Prop. ix. of this section, desire is appetite with awareness of it; furthermore, appetite is the essence of a person since it drives them to act in ways that support their own continued existence. However, in the same note, I also pointed out that I don't see a clear distinction between appetite and desire. Whether a person is aware of their appetite or not, it remains the same appetite. Therefore, to avoid redundancy, I haven't explained desire through appetite; instead, I've aimed to define it in such a way that it includes all aspects of human nature that we refer to as appetite, will, desire, or impulse. I could have stated that desire is the essence of a person, in terms of its determination towards a specific action; but such a definition (cf. II. xxiii.) wouldn’t imply that the mind can be conscious of its desire or appetite. Thus, to suggest the cause of such awareness, it was necessary to add, in terms of determinations from specific modifications, etc. By a modification of human essence, I mean any condition of that essence, whether it is innate or understood purely in terms of thought, extension, or referred to both attributes simultaneously. So, by desire, I mean all of a person's efforts, impulses, appetites, and decisions, which vary based on individual dispositions and can often conflict with one another, as a person is pulled in different directions and feels uncertain about where to go.

II. Pleasure is the transition of a man from a less to a greater perfection.

II. Pleasure is the movement of a person from a lower to a higher state of being.

III. Pain is the transition of a man from a greater to a less perfection.

III. Pain is the process of a person moving from a higher state of being to a lower one.

Explanation—I say transition: for pleasure is not perfection itself. For, if man were born with the perfection to which he passes, he would possess the same, without the emotion of pleasure. This appears more clearly from the consideration of the contrary emotion, pain. No one can deny, that pain consists in the transition to a less perfection, and not in the less perfection itself: for a man cannot be pained, in so far as he partakes of perfection of any degree. Neither can we say, that pain consists in the absence of a greater perfection. For absence is nothing, whereas the emotion of pain is an activity; wherefore this activity can only be the activity of transition from a greater to a less perfection—in other words, it is an activity whereby a man's power of action is lessened or constrained (cf. III. xi. note). I pass over the definitions of merriment, stimulation, melancholy, and grief, because these terms are generally used in reference to the body, and are merely kinds of pleasure or pain.

Explanation—I refer to transition: pleasure is not perfection itself. If a person were born with the perfection they eventually achieve, they would have that perfection without feeling pleasure. This is clearer when considering the opposite emotion, pain. No one can deny that pain arises from the transition to a lesser perfection, rather than from the lesser perfection itself: a person cannot feel pain as long as they share in any degree of perfection. We also cannot say that pain comes from the absence of greater perfection. Absence is nothing, while the feeling of pain is an active experience; therefore, this experience can only be the activity of transitioning from a greater to a lesser perfection—in other words, it is an experience where a person’s ability to act is diminished or restricted (cf. III. xi. note). I’ll skip the definitions of joy, excitement, sadness, and grief, because these terms are usually related to the body and are simply types of pleasure or pain.

IV. Wonder is the conception (imaginatio) of anything, wherein the mind comes to a stand, because the particular concept in question has no connection with other concepts (cf. III. lii. and note).

IV. Wonder is the imagination of anything that makes the mind pause because the specific idea at hand has no links to other ideas (cf. III. lii. and note).

Explanation—In the note to II. xviii. we showed the reason, why the mind, from the contemplation of one thing, straightway falls to the contemplation of another thing, namely, because the images of the two things are so associated and arranged, that one follows the other. This state of association is impossible, if the image of the thing be new; the mind will then be at a stand in the contemplation thereof, until it is determined by other causes to think of something else.

Explanation—In the note to II. xviii, we explained why the mind, when focusing on one thing, quickly shifts to thinking about another. This happens because the images of the two things are linked and organized in such a way that one leads to the other. This kind of association cannot occur if the image of the thing is new; the mind will then be stuck on that thing until influenced by other factors to think about something else.

Thus the conception of a new object, considered in itself, is of the same nature as other conceptions; hence, I do not include wonder among the emotions, nor do I see why I should so include it, inasmuch as this distraction of the mind arises from no positive cause drawing away the mind from other objects, but merely from the absence of a cause, which should determine the mind to pass from the contemplation of one object to the contemplation of another.

Thus, the idea of a new object, when looked at on its own, is similar to other ideas; therefore, I don't categorize wonder as an emotion, nor do I see any reason to do so, since this distraction of the mind doesn't come from a specific cause pulling the mind away from other things, but simply from the lack of a cause that would lead the mind to shift its focus from one object to another.

I, therefore, recognize only three primitive or primary emotions (as I said in the note to III. xi.), namely, pleasure, pain, and desire. I have spoken of wonder simply because it is customary to speak of certain emotions springing from the three primitive ones by different names, when they are referred to the objects of our wonder. I am led by the same motive to add a definition of contempt.

I only recognize three basic emotions (as I mentioned in the note to III. xi.), which are pleasure, pain, and desire. I included wonder because it's common to refer to certain feelings that come from these three basic ones by different names when we consider the things that amaze us. I'm also motivated to provide a definition of contempt.

V. Contempt is the conception of anything which touches the mind so little, that its presence leads the mind to imagine those qualities which are not in it rather than such as are in it (cf. III. lii. note).

V. Contempt is the idea of anything that affects the mind so little that its presence makes the mind picture qualities that aren't actually there instead of the ones that are (cf. III. lii. note).

The definitions of veneration and scorn I here pass over, for I am not aware that any emotions are named after them.

The definitions of respect and disdain I’ll skip here, because I don’t know of any emotions named after them.

VI. Love is pleasure, accompanied by the idea of an external cause.

VI. Love is pleasure, coupled with the idea of an external cause.

Explanation—This definition explains sufficiently clearly the essence of love; the definition given by those authors who say that love is the lover's wish to unite himself to the loved object expresses a property, but not the essence of love; and, as such authors have not sufficiently discerned love's essence, they have been unable to acquire a true conception of its properties, accordingly their definition is on all hands admitted to be very obscure. It must, however, be noted, that when I say that it is a property of love, that the lover should wish to unite himself to the beloved object, I do not here mean by wish consent, or conclusion, or a free decision of the mind (for I have shown such, in II. xlviii., to be fictitious); neither do I mean a desire of being united to the loved object when it is absent, or of continuing in its presence when it is at hand; for love can be conceived without either of these desires; but by wish I mean the contentment, which is in the lover, on account of the presence of the beloved object, whereby the pleasure of the lover is strengthened, or at least maintained.

Explanation—This definition clearly captures the essence of love. The definitions offered by authors who claim that love is the lover's desire to unite with the loved one describe a characteristic, not the essence of love itself. Because these authors haven't fully grasped love's essence, they can't accurately understand its properties, which is why their definition is widely seen as unclear. However, it's important to point out that when I say it's a property of love for the lover to wish to unite with the beloved, I don't mean this wish as consent, conclusion, or a free decision of the mind (as I've shown to be fictitious in II. xlviii.); nor do I mean the desire to be united with the loved one when they're absent, or to remain in their presence when they're near; love can be understood without either of these desires. By "wish," I mean the contentment felt by the lover due to the presence of the beloved, which enhances or at least maintains the lover's pleasure.

VII. Hatred is pain, accompanied by the idea of an external cause.

VII. Hatred is pain, along with the belief that there's an outside cause.

Explanation—These observations are easily grasped after what has been said in the explanation of the preceding definition (cf. also III. xiii. note).

Explanation—These observations are easily understood after what has been explained in the previous definition (see also III. xiii. note).

VIII. Inclination is pleasure, accompanied by the idea of something which is accidentally a cause of pleasure.

VIII. Inclination is pleasure, along with the thought of something that happens to be a source of pleasure.

IX. Aversion is pain, accompanied by the idea of something which is accidentally the cause of pain (cf. III. xv. note).

IX. Aversion is pain, along with the thought of something that happenstance causes that pain (cf. III. xv. note).

X. Devotion is love towards one whom we admire.

X. Devotion is love for someone we admire.

Explanation—Wonder (admiratio) arises (as we have shown, III. lii.) from the novelty of a thing. If, therefore, it happens that the object of our wonder is often conceived by us, we shall cease to wonder at it; thus we see, that the emotion of devotion readily degenerates into simple love.

Explanation—Wonder comes from the novelty of something. If the thing we find amazing becomes familiar to us, we will stop being amazed by it; for this reason, we see that the feeling of devotion easily turns into just love.

XI. Derision is pleasure arising from our conceiving the presence of a quality, which we despise, in an object which we hate.

XI. Derision is the enjoyment we get from seeing a trait we look down on in something we dislike.

Explanation—In so far as we despise a thing which we hate, we deny existence thereof (III. lii. note), and to that extent rejoice (III. xx.). But since we assume that man hates that which he derides, it follows that the pleasure in question is not without alloy (cf. III. xlvii. note).

Explanation—As much as we despise something we hate, we deny its existence (III. lii. note), and to that extent, we take pleasure in it (III. xx.). However, since we assume that people hate what they mock, it follows that this pleasure isn't completely pure (cf. III. xlvii. note).

XII. Hope is an inconstant pleasure, arising from the idea of something past or future, whereof we to a certain extent doubt the issue.

XII. Hope is an unreliable pleasure, coming from the thought of something that has happened or may happen, where we have some doubt about the outcome.

XIII. Fear is an inconstant pain arising from the idea of something past or future, whereof we to a certain extent doubt the issue (cf. III. xviii. note).

XIII. Fear is an unpredictable pain that comes from thinking about something that has happened in the past or may happen in the future, where we have some uncertainty about the outcome (cf. III. xviii. note).

Explanation—From these definitions it follows, that there is no hope unmingled with fear, and no fear unmingled with hope. For he, who depends on hope and doubts concerning the issue of anything, is assumed to conceive something, which excludes the existence of the said thing in the future; therefore he, to this extent, feels pain (cf. III. xix.); consequently, while dependent on hope, he fears for the issue. Contrariwise he, who fears, in other words doubts, concerning the issue of something which he hates, also conceives something which excludes the existence of the thing in question; to this extent he feels pleasure, and consequently to this extent he hopes that it will turn out as he desires (III. xx.).

Explanation—From these definitions, it follows that there is no hope without some fear, and no fear without some hope. A person who relies on hope but is uncertain about the outcome of something is understood to imagine a scenario that rules out the existence of that thing in the future; therefore, they, to that extent, experience pain (cf. III. xix.); as a result, while relying on hope, they worry about the outcome. On the other hand, someone who fears, or doubts, the outcome of something they dislike also imagines a scenario that rules out the existence of that specific thing; to that extent, they feel pleasure, and consequently, to that extent, they hope it will turn out the way they want (III. xx.).

XIV. Confidence is pleasure arising from the idea of something past or future, wherefrom all cause of doubt has been removed.

XIV. Confidence is the feeling of pleasure that comes from thinking about something that has already happened or something that will happen in the future, where all reasons for doubt have been eliminated.

XV. Despair is pain arising from the idea of something past or future, wherefrom all cause of doubt has been removed.

XV. Despair is pain that comes from thinking about something that has already happened or something that might happen, from which all sources of doubt have been taken away.

Explanation—Thus confidence springs from hope, and despair from fear, when all cause for doubt as to the issue of an event has been removed: this comes to pass, because man conceives something past or future as present and regards it as such, or else because he conceives other things, which exclude the existence of the causes of his doubt. For, although we can never be absolutely certain of the issue of any particular event (II. xxxi. Coroll.), it may nevertheless happen that we feel no doubt concerning it. For we have shown, that to feel no doubt concerning a thing is not the same as to be quite certain of it (II. xlix. note). Thus it may happen that we are affected by the same emotion of pleasure or pain concerning a thing past or future, as concerning the conception of a thing present; this I have already shown in III. xviii., to which, with its note, I refer the reader.

Explanation—So confidence comes from hope, and despair from fear, when all reasons for doubt about the outcome of an event are gone: this happens because a person perceives something from the past or future as if it's happening now and sees it that way, or because they think of other things that eliminate the reasons for their doubt. Even though we can never be completely sure about the outcome of any specific event (II. xxxi. Coroll.), we might still feel no doubt about it. We've demonstrated that feeling no doubt about something isn't the same as being completely certain of it (II. xlix. note). Therefore, it can occur that we feel the same emotion of pleasure or pain about something from the past or future as we do about the idea of something present; I have already explained this in III. xviii., to which I refer the reader along with its note.

XVI. Joy is pleasure accompanied by the idea of something past, which has had an issue beyond our hope.

XVI. Joy is happiness that comes with the thought of something from the past, which turned out better than we expected.

XVII. Disappointment is pain accompanied by the idea of something past, which has had an issue contrary to our hope.

XVII. Disappointment is pain that comes with the thought of something in the past, which turned out differently than we hoped.

XVIII. Pity is pain accompanied by the idea of evil, which has befallen someone else whom we conceive to be like ourselves (cf. III. xxii. note, and III. xxvii. note).

XVIII. Pity is the feeling of pain that comes with the thought of bad things happening to someone else whom we see as similar to ourselves (cf. III. xxii. note, and III. xxvii. note).

Explanation—Between pity and sympathy (misericordia) there seems to be no difference, unless perhaps that the former term is used in reference to a particular action, and the latter in reference to a disposition.

Explanation—Between pity and sympathy (misericordia) there seems to be no difference, unless perhaps that the former term is used in reference to a specific action, and the latter in reference to an overall attitude.

XIX. Approval is love towards one who has done good to another.

XIX. Approval is love for someone who has done something good for another person.

XX. Indignation is hatred towards one who has done evil to another.

XX. Indignation is the anger felt towards someone who has harmed another.

Explanation—I am aware that these terms are employed in senses somewhat different from those usually assigned. But my purpose is to explain, not the meaning of words, but the nature of things. I therefore make use of such terms, as may convey my meaning without any violent departure from their ordinary signification. One statement of my method will suffice. As for the cause of the above—named emotions see III. xxvii. Coroll. i., and III. xxii. note.

Explanation—I know that these terms are used in ways that are a bit different from their usual meanings. But my goal is to explain not just the meaning of words, but the nature of things. So, I use terms that can express my ideas without straying too far from their common definitions. One statement about my method will be enough. As for the cause of the emotions mentioned above, see III. xxvii. Coroll. i., and III. xxii. note.

XXI. Partiality is thinking too highly of anyone because of the love we bear him.

XXI. Partiality is having an inflated opinion of someone because of the affection we have for them.

XXII. Disparagement is thinking too meanly of anyone because we hate him.

XXII. Disparagement is thinking poorly of someone simply because we dislike them.

Explanation—Thus partiality is an effect of love, and disparagement an effect of hatred: so that partiality may also be defined as love, in so far as it induces a man to think too highly of a beloved object. Contrariwise, disparagement may be defined as hatred, in so far as it induces a man to think too meanly of a hated object. Cf. III. xxvi. note.

Explanation—So, favoritism comes from love, while belittling comes from hatred: therefore, favoritism can also be seen as love, as it leads someone to think too highly of someone they care about. On the other hand, belittling can be seen as hatred, as it causes someone to think too poorly of someone they dislike. Cf. III. xxvi. note.

XXIII. Envy is hatred, in so far as it induces a man to be pained by another's good fortune, and to rejoice in another's evil fortune.

XXIII. Envy is hatred, as it causes a person to feel hurt by someone else's good luck, and to take pleasure in another's misfortune.

Explanation—Envy is generally opposed to sympathy, which, by doing some violence to the meaning of the word, may therefore be thus defined:

Explanation—Envy is usually the opposite of sympathy, which, by stretching the definition of the word, can be defined this way:

XXIV. Sympathy (misericordia) is love, in so far as it induces a man to feel pleasure at another's good fortune, and pain at another's evil fortune.

XXIV. Sympathy is love, as it causes a person to feel happy for someone else's good fortune and sad for someone else's misfortune.

Explanation—Concerning envy see the notes to III. xxiv. and xxxii. These emotions also arise from pleasure or pain accompanied by the idea of something external, as cause either in itself or accidentally. I now pass on to other emotions, which are accompanied by the idea of something within as a cause.

Explanation—Regarding envy, see the notes to III. xxiv. and xxxii. These feelings also come from pleasure or pain linked to the thought of something external, either as a direct cause or by chance. I will now discuss other emotions that are linked to the idea of something internal as a cause.

XXV. Self—approval is pleasure arising from a man's contemplation of himself and his own power of action.

XXV. Self-approval is the satisfaction that comes from a person's reflection on themselves and their own ability to take action.

XXVI. Humility is pain arising from a man's contemplation of his own weakness of body or mind.

XXVI. Humility is the discomfort that comes from a person reflecting on their own physical or mental shortcomings.

Explanation—Self—complacency is opposed to humility, in so far as we thereby mean pleasure arising from a contemplation of our own power of action; but, in so far as we mean thereby pleasure accompanied by the idea of any action which we believe we have performed by the free decision of our mind, it is opposed to repentance, which we may thus define:

Explanation—Self-complacency is the opposite of humility, in that it refers to the pleasure we get from considering our own ability to take action; however, when we think of it as pleasure that comes with the belief that we have taken action through our own free will, it stands in contrast to repentance, which we can define as:

XXVII. Repentance is pain accompanied by the idea of some action, which we believe we have performed by the free decision of our mind.

XXVII. Repentance is the pain that comes with the thought of an action that we think we have done by our own free choice.

Explanation—The causes of these emotions we have set forth in III. li. note, and in III. liii., liv., lv. and note. Concerning the free decision of the mind see II. xxxv. note. This is perhaps the place to call attention to the fact, that it is nothing wonderful that all those actions, which are commonly called wrong, are followed by pain, and all those, which are called right, are followed by pleasure. We can easily gather from what has been said, that this depends in great measure on education. Parents, by reprobating the former class of actions, and by frequently chiding their children because of them, and also by persuading to and praising the latter class, have brought it about, that the former should be associated with pain and the latter with pleasure. This is confirmed by experience. For custom and religion are not the same among all men, but that which some consider sacred others consider profane, and what some consider honourable others consider disgraceful. According as each man has been educated, he feels repentance for a given action or glories therein.

Explanation—The reasons for these emotions are outlined in III. li. note, and in III. liii., liv., lv. and note. For information on the free decision of the mind, see II. xxxv. note. This is a good opportunity to point out that it’s not surprising that actions commonly labeled as wrong are followed by pain, while those considered right are followed by pleasure. It’s clear from what’s been discussed that this largely depends on education. Parents, by disapproving of the former actions and often scolding their children for them, while also encouraging and praising the latter actions, have led to the association of the former with pain and the latter with pleasure. This is supported by experience. Customs and beliefs vary among people; what some view as sacred, others see as profane, and what some think of as honorable, others regard as disgraceful. Depending on their upbringing, individuals feel either regret for a certain action or take pride in it.

XXVIII. Pride is thinking too highly of one's self from self—love.

XXVIII. Pride is having an inflated view of oneself due to self-love.

Explanation—Thus pride is different from partiality, for the latter term is used in reference to an external object, but pride is used of a man thinking too highly of himself. However, as partiality is the effect of love, so is pride the effect or property of self—love, which may therefore be thus defined, love of self or self—approval, in so far as it leads a man to think too highly of himself. To this emotion there is no contrary. For no one thinks too meanly of himself because of self—hatred; I say that no one thinks too meanly of himself, in so far as he conceives that he is incapable of doing this or that. For whatsoever a man imagines that he is incapable of doing, he imagines this of necessity, and by that notion he is so disposed, that he really cannot do that which he conceives that he cannot do. For, so long as he conceives that he cannot do it, so long is he not determined to do it, and consequently so long is it impossible for him to do it. However, if we consider such matters as only depend on opinion, we shall find it conceivable that a man may think too meanly of himself; for it may happen, that a man, sorrowfully regarding his own weakness, should imagine that he is despised by all men, while the rest of the world are thinking of nothing less than of despising him. Again, a man may think too meanly of himself, if he deny of himself in the present something in relation to a future time of which he is uncertain. As, for instance, if he should say that he is unable to form any clear conceptions, or that he can desire and do nothing but what is wicked and base, &c. We may also say, that a man thinks too meanly of himself, when we see him from excessive fear of shame refusing to do things which others, his equals, venture. We can, therefore, set down as a contrary to pride an emotion which I will call self—abasement, for as from self—complacency springs pride, so from humility springs self—abasement, which I will accordingly thus define:

Explanation—So, pride is different from partiality because the latter refers to an outside factor, while pride is when a person thinks too highly of themselves. Just as partiality results from love, pride results from self-love, which can be defined as love of oneself or self-approval that leads a person to have an inflated view of themselves. There is no opposite to this emotion. No one thinks too poorly of themselves due to self-hatred; I mean that no one thinks too lowly of themselves just because they believe they can't do something. Whatever a person thinks they are incapable of doing, they believe that must be true, and this belief makes them truly unable to do what they think they can't. As long as they believe they can’t do it, they won't be motivated to try, and therefore, it becomes impossible for them to do it. However, if we look at matters that depend only on opinion, we might find that a person could think too poorly of themselves; for instance, someone might sadly reflect on their weaknesses and think everyone despises them, while others are thinking nothing of the sort. A person could also think too poorly of themselves if they deny their current abilities based on uncertainties about the future. For example, they might claim they cannot form clear ideas or that they only desire to do wicked and shameful things, etc. We might also say that someone thinks too poorly of themselves if they, out of excessive fear of embarrassment, refuse to do things that others of equal standing attempt. Therefore, we can identify an emotion that I will call self-abasement as the opposite of pride because just as pride arises from self-satisfaction, self-abasement arises from humility, which I will define accordingly:

XXIX. Self—abasement is thinking too meanly of one's self by reason of pain.

XXIX. Self-abasement is thinking too poorly of oneself because of suffering.

Explanation—We are nevertheless generally accustomed to oppose pride to humility, but in that case we pay more attention to the effect of either emotion than to its nature. We are wont to call proud the man who boasts too much (III. xxx. note), who talks of nothing but his own virtues and other people's faults, who wishes to be first; and lastly who goes through life with a style and pomp suitable to those far above him in station. On the other hand, we call humble the man who too often blushes, who confesses his faults, who sets forth other men's virtues, and who, lastly, walks with bent head and is negligent of his attire. However, these emotions, humility and self—abasement, are extremely rare. For human nature, considered in itself, strives against them as much as it can (see III. xiii., liv.); hence those, who are believed to be most self—abased and humble, are generally in reality the most ambitious and envious.

Explanation—We usually tend to contrast pride with humility, but in doing so, we focus more on the impact of each emotion rather than its essence. We often label a person as proud if they brag too much (III. xxx. note), only talk about their own virtues and criticize others, want to be in the spotlight, and live with a level of style and showiness that's more fitting for someone of a higher status. Conversely, we consider someone humble if they frequently feel embarrassed, admit their shortcomings, highlight others' virtues, and walk with their head down, neglecting their appearance. However, true humility and self-deprecation are quite rare. Human nature, by its very nature, tends to resist these traits as much as possible (see III. xiii., liv.); thus, those who are seen as the most self-effacing and humble are often, in reality, the most ambitious and envious.

XXX. Honour[11] is pleasure accompanied by the idea of some action of our own, which we believe to be praised by others.

XXX. Honor is pleasure that comes with the thought of some action we've taken, which we think others will admire.

[11] Gloria.

Gloria.


XXXI. Shame is pain accompanied by the idea of some action of our own, which we believe to be blamed by others.

XXXI. Shame is the feeling of pain that comes with the belief that we’ve done something that others will criticize us for.

Explanation—On this subject see the note to III. xxx. But we should here remark the difference which exists between shame and modesty. Shame is the pain following the deed whereof we are ashamed. Modesty is the fear or dread of shame, which restrains a man from committing a base action. Modesty is usually opposed to shamelessness, but the latter is not an emotion, as I will duly show; however, the names of the emotions (as I have remarked already) have regard rather to their exercise than to their nature.

Explanation—On this topic, see the note to III. xxx. But we should point out the difference between shame and modesty. Shame is the discomfort that comes after doing something we regret. Modesty is the fear of shame that prevents a person from doing something dishonorable. Modesty is often seen as the opposite of shamelessness, but the latter isn’t an emotion, as I’ll explain later; however, the names of emotions (as I mentioned earlier) refer more to how they are expressed than to their actual nature.

I have now fulfilled the task of explaining the emotions arising from pleasure and pain. I therefore proceed to treat of those which I refer to desire.

I have now completed the task of explaining the feelings that come from pleasure and pain. I will now move on to discuss those that I associate with desire.

XXXII. Regret is the desire or appetite to possess something, kept alive by the remembrance of the said thing, and at the same time constrained by the remembrance of other things which exclude the existence of it.

XXXII. Regret is the longing to have something, fueled by memories of that thing, while also being held back by memories of other things that prevent its existence.

Explanation—When we remember a thing, we are by that very fact, as I have already said more than once, disposed to contemplate it with the same emotion as if it were something present; but this disposition or endeavour, while we are awake, is generally checked by the images of things which exclude the existence of that which we remember. Thus when we remember something which affected us with a certain pleasure, we by that very fact endeavour to regard it with the same emotion of pleasure as though it were present, but this endeavour is at once checked by the remembrance of things which exclude the existence of the thing in question. Wherefore regret is, strictly speaking, a pain opposed to that of pleasure, which arises from the absence of something we hate (cf. III. xlvii. note). But, as the name regret seems to refer to desire, I set this emotion down, among the emotions springing from desire.

Explanation—When we remember something, we naturally tend to feel the same emotions as if it were happening right now; however, this tendency is usually interrupted by thoughts of things that remind us that what we're thinking about isn't currently real. So, when we recall something that brought us pleasure, we try to experience that same pleasure as if it were happening again, but this effort is immediately hindered by memories of things that remind us that it’s not. Therefore, regret is essentially a pain that stands in opposition to pleasure, arising from the absence of something we dislike (cf. III. xlvii. note). However, since the term regret seems to relate to desire, I categorize this emotion among those that come from desire.

XXXIII. Emulation is the desire of something, engendered in us by our conception that others have the same desire.

XXXIII. Emulation is the desire for something, created in us by our belief that others have the same desire.

Explanation—He who runs away, because he sees others running away, or he who fears, because he sees others in fear; or again, he who, on seeing that another man has burnt his hand, draws towards him his own hand, and moves his body as though his own were burnt; such an one can be said to imitate another's emotion, but not to emulate him; not because the causes of emulation and imitation are different, but because it has become customary to speak of emulation only in him, who imitates that which we deem to be honourable, useful, or pleasant. As to the cause of emulation, cf. III. xxvii. and note. The reason why this emotion is generally coupled with envy may be seen from III. xxxii. and note.

Explanation—Someone who runs away because they see others fleeing, or someone who feels fear because they see others scared; or again, someone who, upon seeing another person burn their hand, instinctively pulls back their own hand and moves as if they were burned too; this person can be said to imitate someone else's emotion, but not to emulate them. This isn’t because the reasons for emulation and imitation are different, but because we typically reserve the term "emulation" for those who imitate what we consider to be honorable, useful, or enjoyable. For the reason behind emulation, see III. xxvii. and note. The reason why this emotion is usually linked with envy can be found in III. xxxii. and note.

XXXIV. Thankfulness or Gratitude is the desire or zeal springing from love, whereby we endeavour to benefit him, who with similar feelings of love has conferred a benefit on us. Cf. III. xxxix. note and xl.

XXXIV. Gratitude is the passion or eagerness that arises from love, motivating us to do good for those who have shown us kindness with the same feelings of love. Cf. III. xxxix. note and xl.

XXXV. Benevolence is the desire of benefiting one whom we pity. Cf. III. xxvii. note.

XXXV. Benevolence is the desire to help someone we feel sorry for. Cf. III. xxvii. note.

XXXVI. Anger is the desire, whereby through hatred we are induced to injure one whom we hate, III. xxxix.

XXXVI. Anger is the urge that drives us to harm someone we hate through our resentment, III. xxxix.

XXXVII. Revenge is the desire whereby we are induced, through mutual hatred, to injure one who, with similar feelings, has injured us. (See III. xl. Coroll. ii and note.)

XXXVII. Revenge is the urge that compels us, through shared animosity, to harm someone who has harmed us in the same way. (See III. xl. Coroll. ii and note.)

XXXVIII. Cruelty or savageness is the desire, whereby a man is impelled to injure one whom we love or pity.

XXXVIII. Cruelty or savagery is the urge that drives a person to hurt someone we care about or feel sorry for.

Explanation—To cruelty is opposed clemency, which is not a passive state of the mind, but a power whereby man restrains his anger and revenge.

Explanation—Clemency is the opposite of cruelty, and it's not just a passive mindset; it's the ability to hold back anger and the desire for revenge.

XXXIX. Timidity is the desire to avoid a greater evil, which we dread, by undergoing a lesser evil. Cf. III. xxxix. note.

XXXIX. Timidity is the wish to escape a larger evil that we fear by facing a smaller evil. Cf. III. xxxix. note.

XL. Daring is the desire, whereby a man is set on to do something dangerous which his equals fear to attempt.

XL. Daring is the desire that drives a person to take on something dangerous that their peers are too afraid to try.

XLI. Cowardice is attributed to one, whose desire is checked by the fear of some danger which his equals dare to encounter.

XLI. Cowardice is blamed on someone whose wishes are held back by the fear of a danger that their peers are willing to face.

Explanation—Cowardice is, therefore, nothing else but the fear of some evil, which most men are wont not to fear; hence I do not reckon it among the emotions springing from desire. Nevertheless, I have chosen to explain it here, because, in so far as we look to the desire, it is truly opposed to the emotion of daring.

Explanation—Cowardice is simply the fear of something bad that most people usually don't fear; that’s why I don’t consider it an emotion that comes from desire. Still, I’ve decided to describe it here because, when we think about desire, it really contrasts with the emotion of bravery.

XLII. Consternation is attributed to one, whose desire of avoiding evil is checked by amazement at the evil which he fears.

XLII. Confusion is felt by someone whose wish to avoid bad things is hindered by shock at the bad things they fear.

Explanation—Consternation is, therefore, a species of cowardice. But, inasmuch as consternation arises from a double fear, it may be more conveniently defined as a fear which keeps a man so bewildered and wavering, that he is not able to remove the evil. I say bewildered, in so far as we understand his desire of removing the evil to be constrained by his amazement. I say wavering, in so far as we understand the said desire to be constrained by the fear of another evil, which equally torments him: whence it comes to pass that he knows not, which he may avert of the two. On this subject, see III. xxxix. note, and III. lii. note. Concerning cowardice and daring, see III. li. note.

Explanation—Consternation is, therefore, a form of cowardice. However, since consternation stems from a double fear, it can be more easily defined as a fear that leaves a person so confused and indecisive that they can't take action to eliminate the problem. When I say confused, I mean that their desire to remove the problem is hindered by their shock. When I say indecisive, I mean that this same desire is held back by the fear of another problem that equally distresses them, which results in them being unsure about which of the two problems they can avoid. For more on this topic, see III. xxxix. note, and III. lii. note. For information regarding cowardice and bravery, see III. li. note.

XLIII. Courtesy, or deference (Humanitas seu modestia), is the desire of acting in a way that should please men, and refraining from that which should displease them.

XLIII. Courtesy, or deference (Humanitas seu modestia), is the desire to act in a way that pleases others and to avoid actions that might displease them.

XLIV. Ambition is the immoderate desire of power.

XLIV. Ambition is the excessive desire for power.

Explanation—Ambition is the desire, whereby all the emotions (cf. III. xxvii. and xxxi.) are fostered and strengthened; therefore this emotion can with difficulty be overcome. For, so long as a man is bound by any desire, he is at the same time necessarily bound by this. "The best men," says Cicero, "are especially led by honour. Even philosophers, when they write a book contemning honour, sign their names thereto," and so on.

Explanation—Ambition is the desire that fuels and enhances all emotions (cf. III. xxvii. and xxxi.); therefore, this emotion is hard to overcome. As long as someone is driven by any desire, they are also inevitably driven by this one. "The best people," Cicero says, "are particularly guided by honor. Even philosophers, when they write a book dismissing honor, still sign their names to it," and so on.

XLV. Luxury is excessive desire, or even love of living sumptuously.

XLV. Luxury is an overwhelming desire, or even passion, for living extravagantly.

XLVI. Intemperance is the excessive desire and love of drinking.

XLVI. Intemperance is the excessive craving and passion for drinking.

XLVII. Avarice is the excessive desire and love of riches.

XLVII. Avarice is the intense desire and love for wealth.

XLVIII. Lust is desire and love in the matter of sexual intercourse.

XLVIII. Lust is the desire and love related to sexual intercourse.

Explanation—Whether this desire be excessive or not, it is still called lust. These last five emotions (as I have shown in III. lvi.) have on contraries. For deference is a species of ambition. Cf. III. xxix. note.

Explanation—Whether this desire is excessive or not, it is still referred to as lust. These last five emotions (as I have shown in III. lvi.) have opposites. For respect is a kind of ambition. Cf. III. xxix. note.

Again, I have already pointed out, that temperance, sobriety, and chastity indicate rather a power than a passivity of the mind. It may, nevertheless, happen, that an avaricious, an ambitious, or a timid man may abstain from excess in eating, drinking, or sexual indulgence, yet avarice, ambition, and fear are not contraries to luxury, drunkenness, and debauchery. For an avaricious man often is glad to gorge himself with food and drink at another man's expense. An ambitious man will restrain himself in nothing, so long as he thinks his indulgences are secret; and if he lives among drunkards and debauchees, he will, from the mere fact of being ambitious, be more prone to those vices. Lastly, a timid man does that which he would not. For though an avaricious man should, for the sake of avoiding death, cast his riches into the sea, he will none the less remain avaricious; so, also, if a lustful man is downcast, because he cannot follow his bent, he does not, on the ground of abstention, cease to be lustful. In fact, these emotions are not so much concerned with the actual feasting, drinking, &c., as with the appetite and love of such. Nothing, therefore, can be opposed to these emotions, but high—mindedness and valour, whereof I will speak presently.

Again, I've already pointed out that temperance, self-control, and chastity reflect more of a strength than a weakness of the mind. However, it's still possible for a greedy, ambition-driven, or fearful person to avoid overindulging in food, drink, or sexual pleasures; yet greed, ambition, and fear are not the opposite of luxury, drunkenness, and debauchery. A greedy person is often happy to indulge themselves on someone else's dime. An ambitious person will hold back nothing as long as they believe their excesses are hidden; and if they find themselves among drinkers and revelers, their ambition will actually make them more susceptible to those vices. Lastly, a fearful person might act against their own desires. Even if a greedy person throws their wealth into the sea to avoid death, they will still be greedy; similarly, if a lustful person feels down because they can't pursue their desires, they don't stop being lustful just because they are abstaining. In reality, these feelings are less about the actual feasting, drinking, etc., and more about the craving and desire for them. Therefore, the only true opposition to these feelings comes from nobility and courage, which I will discuss shortly.

The definitions of jealousy and other waverings of the mind I pass over in silence, first, because they arise from the compounding of the emotions already described; secondly, because many of them have no distinctive names, which shows that it is sufficient for practical purposes to have merely a general knowledge of them. However, it is established from the definitions of the emotions, which we have set forth, that they all spring from desire, pleasure, or pain, or, rather, that there is nothing besides these three; wherefore each is wont to be called by a variety of names in accordance with its various relations and extrinsic tokens. If we now direct our attention to these primitive emotions, and to what has been said concerning the nature of the mind, we shall be able thus to define the emotions, in so far as they are referred to the mind only.

I won’t go into the definitions of jealousy and other fluctuations of the mind for a couple of reasons. First, they come from combining the emotions I’ve already described. Second, many of them don’t have specific names, which indicates that it's enough for practical purposes to have just a general understanding of them. However, it’s clear from the definitions of emotions we've discussed that they all come from desire, pleasure, or pain—or more precisely, that those are the only three. This is why each emotion tends to be known by various names depending on its different relationships and external indicators. Now, if we focus on these basic emotions and what we've talked about regarding the nature of the mind, we can define the emotions as they relate specifically to the mind.


GENERAL DEFINITION OF THE EMOTIONS

Emotion, which is called a passivity of the soul, is a confused idea, whereby the mind affirms concerning its body, or any part thereof, a force for existence (existendi vis) greater or less than before, and by the presence of which the mind is determined to think of one thing rather than another.

Emotion, known as a passivity of the soul, is a confusing concept where the mind acknowledges a force for existence (existendi vis) in the body, or any part of it, that is greater or less than it was before. This presence influences the mind to think about one thing instead of another.

Explanation—I say, first, that emotion or passion of the soul is a confused idea. For we have shown that the mind is only passive, in so far as it has inadequate or confused ideas. (III. iii.) I say, further, whereby the mind affirms concerning its body or any part thereof a force for existence greater than before. For all the ideas of bodies, which we possess, denote rather the actual disposition of our own body (II. xvi. Coroll. ii.) than the nature of an external body. But the idea which constitutes the reality of an emotion must denote or express the disposition of the body, or of some part thereof, because its power of action or force for existence is increased or diminished, helped or hindered. But it must be noted that, when I say a greater or less force for existence than before, I do not mean that the mind compares the present with the past disposition of the body, but that the idea which constitutes the reality of an emotion affirms something of the body, which, in fact, involves more or less of reality than before.

Explanation—I first state that emotion or passion of the soul is a confusing concept. We've established that the mind is only passive to the extent that it has unclear or confusing ideas. (III. iii.) Additionally, I assert that the mind perceives a force for existence in its body or any part of it that is greater than before. All the ideas we have about bodies reflect the actual state of our own body (II. xvi. Coroll. ii.) rather than the nature of an external body. However, the idea that defines the reality of an emotion must express the state of the body or a part of it, since its ability to act or force for existence is either increased or decreased, aided or obstructed. It's important to note that when I refer to a greater or lesser force for existence than before, I don't mean that the mind is comparing the current state of the body to its past state. Instead, the idea that makes up the reality of an emotion asserts something about the body that, in fact, involves a greater or lesser reality than it did before.

And inasmuch as the essence of mind consists in the fact (II. xi., xiii.), that it affirms the actual existence of its own body, and inasmuch as we understand by perfection the very essence of a thing, it follows that the mind passes to greater or less perfection, when it happens to affirm concerning its own body, or any part thereof, something involving more or less reality than before.

And since the essence of the mind lies in the fact (II. xi., xiii.) that it acknowledges the real existence of its own body, and since we understand perfection as the very essence of a thing, it follows that the mind moves towards greater or lesser perfection when it affirms something about its own body, or any part of it, that involves more or less reality than before.

When, therefore, I said above that the power of the mind is increased or diminished, I merely meant that the mind had formed of its own body, or of some part thereof, an idea involving more or less of reality, than it had already affirmed concerning its own body. For the excellence of ideas, and the actual power of thinking are measured by the excellence of the object. Lastly, I have added by the presence of which the mind is determined to think of one thing rather than another, so that, besides the nature of pleasure and pain, which the first part of the definition explains, I might also express the nature of desire.

When I mentioned earlier that the mind's power can increase or decrease, I simply meant that the mind has created an idea about its own body, or part of it, that involves more or less reality than it has previously acknowledged about itself. The quality of ideas and the actual ability to think are determined by the quality of the object. Finally, I added that the mind is influenced to focus on one thing instead of another, so that, in addition to the nature of pleasure and pain explained in the first part of the definition, I could also convey the nature of desire.




PART IV:

Of Human Bondage, or the Strength of the Emotions


PREFACE

Human infirmity in moderating and checking the emotions I name bondage: for, when a man is a prey to his emotions, he is not his own master, but lies at the mercy of fortune: so much so, that he is often compelled, while seeing that which is better for him, to follow that which is worse. Why this is so, and what is good or evil in the emotions, I propose to show in this part of my treatise. But, before I begin, it would be well to make a few prefatory observations on perfection and imperfection, good and evil.

Human weakness in managing and controlling emotions is what I call bondage. When a person is overwhelmed by their emotions, they lose control and are at the mercy of chance. This often forces them to pursue what is worse for them instead of what is better. I intend to explain why this happens and what is considered good or evil in emotions in this section of my work. However, before I start, I think it's important to make a few introductory comments about perfection and imperfection, as well as good and evil.

When a man has purposed to make a given thing, and has brought it to perfection, his work will be pronounced perfect, not only by himself, but by everyone who rightly knows, or thinks that he knows, the intention and aim of its author. For instance, suppose anyone sees a work (which I assume to be not yet completed), and knows that the aim of the author of that work is to build a house, he will call the work imperfect; he will, on the other hand, call it perfect, as soon as he sees that it is carried through to the end, which its author had purposed for it. But if a man sees a work, the like whereof he has never seen before, and if he knows not the intention of the artificer, he plainly cannot know, whether that work be perfect or imperfect. Such seems to be the primary meaning of these terms.

When a person sets out to create something and successfully completes it, their work will be considered perfect, not just by themselves, but by anyone who understands, or thinks they understand, the creator's intentions and goals. For example, if someone sees a project (that I assume is still in progress) and knows the creator's goal is to build a house, they will call the project imperfect; however, they will call it perfect as soon as they see that it has been completed according to the creator's original intention. But if someone encounters a work they have never seen before and does not understand the creator's intention, they clearly cannot determine whether that work is perfect or imperfect. This seems to be the basic meaning of these terms.

But, after men began to form general ideas, to think out types of houses, buildings, towers, &c., and to prefer certain types to others, it came about, that each man called perfect that which he saw agree with the general idea he had formed of the thing in question, and called imperfect that which he saw agree less with his own preconceived type, even though it had evidently been completed in accordance with the idea of its artificer. This seems to be the only reason for calling natural phenomena, which, indeed, are not made with human hands, perfect or imperfect: for men are wont to form general ideas of things natural, no less than of things artificial, and such ideas they hold as types, believing that Nature (who they think does nothing without an object) has them in view, and has set them as types before herself. Therefore, when they behold something in Nature, which does not wholly conform to the preconceived type which they have formed of the thing in question, they say that Nature has fallen short or has blundered, and has left her work incomplete. Thus we see that men are wont to style natural phenomena perfect or imperfect rather from their own prejudices, than from true knowledge of what they pronounce upon.

But, once people started to develop general ideas and think about different types of houses, buildings, towers, etc., and began to prefer some types over others, each person considered something perfect if it matched the general idea they had of that thing. They labeled it imperfect if it didn't align as closely with their own preconceived notion, even if it had been completed according to the creator's original vision. This seems to be the main reason people describe natural phenomena, which are not made by human hands, as perfect or imperfect: people tend to create general ideas about natural things just like they do for artificial ones, and they treat these ideas as standards. They believe that Nature, which they assume has a purpose for everything, has these ideas in mind and uses them as benchmarks. So, when they see something in Nature that doesn't completely fit their preconceived notion, they claim that Nature has fallen short or made a mistake, leaving its work unfinished. Thus, we see that people tend to label natural phenomena as perfect or imperfect more due to their own biases rather than from a true understanding of what they are judging.

Now we showed in the Appendix to Part I., that Nature does not work with an end in view. For the eternal and infinite Being, which we call God or Nature, acts by the same necessity as that whereby it exists. For we have shown, that by the same necessity of its nature, whereby it exists, it likewise works (I. xvi.). The reason or cause why God or Nature exists, and the reason why he acts, are one and the same. Therefore, as he does not exist for the sake of an end, so neither does he act for the sake of an end; of his existence and of his action there is neither origin nor end. Wherefore, a cause which is called final is nothing else but human desire, in so far as it is considered as the origin or cause of anything. For example, when we say that to be inhabited is the final cause of this or that house, we mean nothing more than that a man, conceiving the conveniences of household life, had a desire to build a house. Wherefore, the being inhabited, in so far as it is regarded as a final cause, is nothing else but this particular desire, which is really the efficient cause; it is regarded as the primary cause, because men are generally ignorant of the causes of their desires. They are, as I have often said already, conscious of their own actions and appetites, but ignorant of the causes whereby they are determined to any particular desire. Therefore, the common saying that Nature sometimes falls short, or blunders, and produces things which are imperfect, I set down among the glosses treated of in the Appendix to Part I. Perfection and imperfection, then, are in reality merely modes of thinking, or notions which we form from a comparison among one another of individuals of the same species; hence I said above (II. Def. vi.), that by reality and perfection I mean the same thing. For we are wont to refer all the individual things in nature to one genus, which is called the highest genus, namely, to the category of Being, whereto absolutely all individuals in nature belong. Thus, in so far as we refer the individuals in nature to this category, and comparing them one with another, find that some possess more of being or reality than others, we, to this extent, say that some are more perfect than others. Again, in so far as we attribute to them anything implying negation—as term, end, infirmity, etc., we, to this extent, call them imperfect, because they do not affect our mind so much as the things which we call perfect, not because they have any intrinsic deficiency, or because Nature has blundered. For nothing lies within the scope of a thing's nature, save that which follows from the necessity of the nature of its efficient cause, and whatsoever follows from the necessity of the nature of its efficient cause necessarily comes to pass.

Now we've shown in the Appendix to Part I that Nature doesn’t work with a purpose in mind. The eternal and infinite Being, which we call God or Nature, operates out of the same necessity that governs its existence. We’ve demonstrated that this necessity is the same for both its being and its actions (I. xvi.). The reason or cause for God or Nature's existence is the same as the reason for its actions. So just as it doesn’t exist for a purpose, it also doesn’t act for a purpose; there’s no origin or end to its existence or actions. Thus, what we call a final cause is just human desire when considered as the source or cause of something. For instance, when we say that being inhabited is the final cause of a house, we simply mean that someone, envisioning the comforts of home life, wanted to build a house. Therefore, being inhabited, when viewed as a final cause, is just this specific desire, which is actually the efficient cause; it’s seen as the primary cause because people are generally unaware of what drives their desires. As I've mentioned before, they are aware of their own actions and cravings but ignorant of the reasons that lead them to specific desires. Consequently, the common idea that Nature occasionally fails or makes mistakes, producing imperfect things, I place among the remarks discussed in the Appendix to Part I. Perfection and imperfection are really just ways of thinking or concepts we form by comparing individuals of the same kind; hence I stated earlier (II. Def. vi.) that I mean the same thing when I discuss reality and perfection. We tend to categorize all individual things in nature under one general category, which is the highest category, namely, the category of Being, to which all individuals in the natural world belong. So, as we categorize individuals in nature under this category and compare them, we find that some have more being or reality than others, and to that extent, we say that some are more perfect than others. Conversely, to the extent that we attribute anything suggesting negation—like a term, an end, weakness, etc.—we label them imperfect, because they don’t engage our minds as much as things we call perfect, not because they have any inherent flaws, or because Nature has made a mistake. For nothing is within the scope of a thing's nature except what arises from the necessity of the nature of its efficient cause, and whatever follows from the necessity of its efficient cause will necessarily happen.

As for the terms good and bad, they indicate no positive quality in things regarded in themselves, but are merely modes of thinking, or notions which we form from the comparison of things one with another. Thus one and the same thing can be at the same time good, bad, and indifferent. For instance, music is good for him that is melancholy, bad for him that mourns; for him that is deaf, it is neither good nor bad.

The terms good and bad don’t point to any inherent quality in things themselves; they’re just ways of thinking or ideas that we develop by comparing things to each other. So, the same thing can be good, bad, and neutral at the same time. For example, music is good for someone who is feeling sad, bad for someone who is grieving; for someone who is deaf, it’s neither good nor bad.

Nevertheless, though this be so, the terms should still be retained. For, inasmuch as we desire to form an idea of man as a type of human nature which we may hold in view, it will be useful for us to retain the terms in question, in the sense I have indicated.

Nevertheless, even though this is the case, the terms should still be kept. Because, since we want to create an idea of man as a representation of human nature that we can reference, it will be helpful for us to keep the terms in question in the sense I’ve mentioned.

In what follows, then, I shall mean by, "good" that, which we certainly know to be a means of approaching more nearly to the type of human nature, which we have set before ourselves; by "bad," that which we certainly know to be a hindrance to us in approaching the said type. Again, we shall that men are more perfect, or more imperfect, in proportion as they approach more or less nearly to the said type. For it must be specially remarked that, when I say that a man passes from a lesser to a greater perfection, or vice versâ, I do not mean that he is changed from one essence or reality to another; for instance, a horse would be as completely destroyed by being changed into a man, as by being changed into an insect. What I mean is, that we conceive the thing's power of action, in so far as this is understood by its nature, to be increased or diminished. Lastly, by perfection in general I shall, as I have said, mean reality—in other words, each thing's essence, in so far as it exists, and operates in a particular manner, and without paying any regard to its duration. For no given thing can be said to be more perfect, because it has passed a longer time in existence. The duration of things cannot be determined by their essence, for the essence of things involves no fixed and definite period of existence; but everything, whether it be more perfect or less perfect, will always be able to persist in existence with the same force wherewith it began to exist; wherefore, in this respect, all things are equal.

In what follows, I will define "good" as that which we know helps us get closer to the ideal of human nature we aspire to; and "bad" as that which we know hinders us from reaching that ideal. Additionally, we can say that people are more perfect or more imperfect based on how closely they align with this ideal. It’s important to note that when I say a person moves from lesser to greater perfection, or vice versa, I don’t mean that they change from one type of being to another; for example, a horse would be completely destroyed if it became a human, just as it would be if it turned into an insect. What I mean is that we perceive the capacity of something to act, as understood by its nature, to be either increased or decreased. Lastly, when I refer to perfection in general, I mean reality—each thing's essence, as it exists and functions in a specific way, without considering how long it has existed. A thing cannot be deemed more perfect simply because it has existed for a longer time. The duration of things cannot be determined by their essence, since the essence does not imply a fixed or set period of existence; instead, everything, whether more perfect or less perfect, can always continue to exist with the same force it had when it first came into being. Therefore, in this regard, all things are equal.


DEFINITIONS.

I. By good I mean that which we certainly know to be useful to us.

I. By good, I mean what we definitely know is beneficial to us.

II. By evil I mean that which we certainly know to be a hindrance to us in the attainment of any good.

II. By evil, I mean anything we clearly recognize as an obstacle to achieving any kind of good.

(Concerning these terms see the foregoing preface towards the end.)

(For more on these terms, see the preface above towards the end.)

III. Particular things I call contingent in so far as, while regarding their essence only, we find nothing therein, which necessarily asserts their existence or excludes it.

III. I refer to certain things as contingent because, when considering their essence alone, we find nothing within them that necessarily confirms their existence or denies it.

IV. Particular things I call possible in so far as, while regarding the causes whereby they must be produced, we know not, whether such causes be determined for producing them.

IV. I refer to particular things as possible to the extent that, when considering the causes that must bring them about, we do not know whether those causes are set to actually produce them.

(In I. xxxiii. note. i., I drew no distinction between possible and contingent, because there was in that place no need to distinguish them accurately.)

(In I. xxxiii. note. i., I didn't differentiate between possible and contingent, as there was no need to make a precise distinction there.)

V. By conflicting emotions I mean those which draw a man in different directions, though they are of the same kind, such as luxury and avarice, which are both species of love, and are contraries, not by nature, but by accident.

V. By conflicting emotions, I mean those that pull a person in different directions, even though they are similar, like indulgence and greed, which are both forms of love and are opposites, not by nature, but by chance.

VI. What I mean by emotion felt towards a thing, future, present, and past, I explained in III. xviii., notes. i. and ii., which see.

VI. What I mean by emotions directed toward things—whether they are in the future, present, or past—is explained in III. xviii., notes. i. and ii., which you can refer to.

(But I should here also remark, that we can only distinctly conceive distance of space or time up to a certain definite limit; that is, all objects distant from us more than two hundred feet, or whose distance from the place where we are exceeds that which we can distinctly conceive, seem to be an equal distance from us, and all in the same plane; so also objects, whose time of existing is conceived as removed from the present by a longer interval than we can distinctly conceive, seem to be all equally distant from the present, and are set down, as it were, to the same moment of time.)

(But I should also point out that we can only clearly understand distance in space or time up to a certain point; that is, all objects that are more than two hundred feet away from us, or whose distance from where we are exceeds what we can clearly imagine, seem to be the same distance from us and all on the same level; similarly, objects that we think of as existing longer ago than we can clearly grasp seem to be equally distant from the present, as if they all belong to the same moment in time.)

VII. By an end, for the sake of which we do something, I mean a desire.

VII. By an end, for which we do something, I mean a desire.

VIII. By virtue (virtus) and power I mean the same thing; that is (III. vii), virtue, in so far as it is referred to man, is a man's nature or essence, in so far as it has the power of effecting what can only be understood by the laws of that nature.

VIII. By virtue and power, I mean the same thing; that is, virtue, as it relates to a person, is a person's nature or essence, as it has the ability to bring about what can only be understood through the laws of that nature.


AXIOM.

There is no individual thing in nature, than which there is not another more powerful and strong. Whatsoever thing be given, there is something stronger whereby it can be destroyed.

There is nothing in nature that doesn’t have something else that is more powerful and strong. Whatever thing you have, there is something stronger that can destroy it.


PROPOSITIONS.

PROP. I. No positive quality possessed by a false idea is removed by the presence of what is true, in virtue of its being true.

PROP. I. No positive quality that a false idea has is taken away by the presence of what is true, just because it is true.

Proof.—Falsity consists solely in the privation of knowledge which inadequate ideas involve (II. xxxv.), nor have they any positive quality on account of which they are called false (II. xxxiii.); contrariwise, in so far as they are referred to God, they are true (II. xxxii.). Wherefore, if the positive quality possessed by a false idea were removed by the presence of what is true, in virtue of its being true, a true idea would then be removed by itself, which (IV. iii.) is absurd. Therefore, no positive quality possessed by a false idea, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Falsity only exists in the lack of knowledge that inadequate ideas involve (II. xxxv.), and they don’t have any positive quality that makes them false (II. xxxiii.); on the other hand, when they are connected to God, they are true (II. xxxii.). Therefore, if the positive quality of a false idea were eliminated by the presence of something true, because it is true, then a true idea would be eliminated by itself, which (IV. iii.) is absurd. Thus, no positive quality exists in a false idea, etc. Q.E.D.

Note.—This proposition is more clearly understood from II. xvi. Coroll. ii. For imagination is an idea, which indicates rather the present disposition of the human body than the nature of the external body; not indeed distinctly, but confusedly; whence it comes to pass, that the mind is said to err. For instance, when we look at the sun, we conceive that it is distant from us about two hundred feet; in this judgment we err, so long as we are in ignorance of its true distance; when its true distance is known, the error is removed, but not the imagination; or, in other words, the idea of the sun, which only explains tho nature of that luminary, in so far as the body is affected thereby: wherefore, though we know the real distance, we shall still nevertheless imagine the sun to be near us. For, as we said in II. xxxv. note, we do not imagine the sun to be so near us, because we are ignorant of its true distance, but because the mind conceives the magnitude of the sun to the extent that the body is affected thereby. Thus, when the rays of the sun falling on the surface of water are reflected into our eyes, we imagine the sun as if it were in the water, though we are aware of its real position; and similarly other imaginations, wherein the mind is deceived, whether they indicate the natural disposition of the body, or that its power of activity is increased or diminished, are not contrary to the truth, and do not vanish at its presence. It happens indeed that, when we mistakenly fear an evil, the fear vanishes when we hear the true tidings; but the contrary also happens, namely, that we fear an evil which will certainly come, and our fear vanishes when we hear false tidings; thus imaginations do not vanish at the presence of the truth, in virtue of its being true, but because other imaginations, stronger than the first, supervene and exclude the present existence of that which we imagined, as I have shown in II. xvii.

Note.—This idea is better understood from II. xvi. Coroll. ii. Imagination is an idea that reflects more about the current state of the human body than the actual nature of the external object; not clearly, but rather vaguely. This is why we say the mind can be mistaken. For example, when we look at the sun, we think it’s about two hundred feet away; we make this mistake as long as we don’t know its true distance. Once we learn its actual distance, the error disappears, but not the imagination. In other words, the idea of the sun explains its nature only in how it affects our body. Therefore, even if we know the real distance, we still picture the sun as being close to us. As mentioned in II. xxxv. note, we don’t imagine the sun is close to us because we are unaware of its real distance, but because our mind perceives the size of the sun based on how our body reacts to it. So, when the sun’s rays hit the water and reflect into our eyes, we imagine the sun is in the water, even though we know where it actually is. Similarly, other imaginations where the mind is tricked—whether they show the body’s natural state or its increased or decreased ability—aren’t false and don’t disappear just because of the truth. Sometimes, when we incorrectly fear something bad, that fear goes away when we hear the truth; but the opposite can also happen, where we fear something that will definitely occur, and that fear dissipates when we hear false information. Thus, imaginations don’t disappear just because the truth is present; they fade away when stronger imaginations replace the initial ones, as I explained in II. xvii.

PROP. II. We are only passive, in so far as we are apart of Nature, which cannot be conceived by itself without other parts.

PROP. II. We are only passive to the extent that we are a part of Nature, which cannot be understood on its own without other parts.

Proof.—We are said to be passive, when something arises in us, whereof we are only a partial cause (III. Def. ii.), that is (III. Def. i.), something which cannot be deduced solely from the laws of our nature. We are passive therefore, in so far as we are a part of Nature, which cannot be conceived by itself without other parts. Q.E.D.

Proof.—We are considered passive when something occurs within us that we only partially contribute to (III. Def. ii.), meaning (III. Def. i.) it's something that can't be explained purely by the laws of our nature. We are passive to the extent that we are a part of Nature, which can't be understood on its own without considering other parts. Q.E.D.

PROP. III. The force whereby a man persists in existing is limited, and is infinitely surpassed by the power of external causes.

PROP. III. The force that allows a person to continue existing is limited and is far outmatched by the power of external factors.

Proof.—This is evident from the axiom of this part. For, when man is given, there is something else—say A—more powerful; when A is given, there is something else—say B—more powerful than A, and so on to infinity; thus the power of man is limited by the power of some other thing, and is infinitely surpassed by the power of external causes. Q.E.D.

Proof.—This is clear from the principle of this section. For when humanity exists, there is something else—let's call it A—that is more powerful; when A exists, there is something else—let's call it B—that is more powerful than A, and this continues infinitely; therefore, the power of humanity is limited by the power of some other entity and is infinitely exceeded by the power of external forces. Q.E.D.

PROP. IV. It is impossible, that man should not be a part of Nature, or that he should be capable of undergoing no changes, save such as can be understood through his nature only as their adequate cause.

PROP. IV. It is impossible for man to not be a part of Nature, or for him to only experience changes that can be understood solely through his nature as their adequate cause.

Proof.—The power, whereby each particular thing, and consequently man, preserves his being, is the power of God or of Nature (I. xxiv. Coroll.); not in so far as it is infinite, but in so far as it can be explained by the actual human essence (III. vii.). Thus the power of man, in so far as it is explained through his own actual essence, is a part of the infinite power of God or Nature, in other words, of the essence thereof (I. xxxiv.). This was our first point. Again, if it were possible, that man should undergo no changes save such as can be understood solely through the nature of man, it would follow that he would not be able to die, but would always necessarily exist; this would be the necessary consequence of a cause whose power was either finite or infinite; namely, either of man's power only, inasmuch as he would be capable of removing from himself all changes which could spring from external causes; or of the infinite power of Nature, whereby all individual things would be so ordered, that man should be incapable of undergoing any changes save such as tended towards his own preservation. But the first alternative is absurd (by the last Prop., the proof of which is universal, and can be applied to all individual things). Therefore, if it be possible, that man should not be capable of undergoing any changes, save such as can be explained solely through his own nature, and consequently that he must always (as we have shown) necessarily exist; such a result must follow from the infinite power of God, and consequently (I. xvi.) from the necessity of the divine nature, in so far as it is regarded as affected by the idea of any given man, the whole order of nature as conceived under the attributes of extension and thought must be deducible. It would therefore follow (I. xxi.) that man is infinite, which (by the first part of this proof) is absurd. It is, therefore, impossible, that man should not undergo any changes save those whereof he is the adequate cause. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The power that allows each individual thing, and therefore humans, to maintain their existence is the power of God or Nature (I. xxiv. Coroll.); not in the sense of being infinite, but in the way it can be explained by actual human essence (III. vii.). Thus, the power of humans, as it is explained through their actual essence, is a part of the infinite power of God or Nature, or in other words, of its essence (I. xxxiv.). This was our first point. Furthermore, if it were possible for humans to undergo changes only understandable through human nature, it would mean they could not die but would always necessarily exist; this would follow from a cause whose power was either finite or infinite; that is, either from human power alone, if they could eliminate all changes brought about by external factors, or from the infinite power of Nature, in which case everything would be arranged so that humans could only experience changes that favored their preservation. However, the first option is absurd (according to the last Proposition, which is universal and applicable to all individual things). Therefore, if it were possible for humans to not undergo any changes except those explained solely by their own nature, and consequently they must always necessarily exist (as we have shown), this result must follow from the infinite power of God, and hence (I. xvi.) from the necessity of divine nature, as it pertains to the idea of any given human. The entire order of nature, as understood through the concepts of extension and thought, must be deducible. Thus, it would follow (I. xxi.) that humans are infinite, which (as shown in the first part of this proof) is absurd. Therefore, it is impossible for humans to not undergo any changes except those of which they are the adequate cause. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Hence it follows, that man is necessarily always a prey to his passions, that he follows and obeys the general order of nature, and that he accommodates himself thereto, as much as the nature of things demands.

Corollary.—Therefore, it follows that a person is always subject to their passions, that they follow and adhere to the natural order, and that they adjust themselves to it as much as the nature of things requires.

PROP. V. The power and increase of every passion, and its persistence in existing are not defined by the power, whereby we ourselves endeavour to persist in existing, but by the power of an external cause compared with our own.

PROP. V. The strength and growth of every passion, and its ability to persist, are not determined by our own efforts to endure but by the strength of an external cause in relation to our own.

Proof.—The essence of a passion cannot be explained through our essence alone (III. Deff. i. and ii.), that is (III. vii.), the power of a passion cannot be defined by the power, whereby we ourselves endeavour to persist in existing, but (as is shown in II. xvi.) must necessarily be defined by the power of an external cause compared with our own. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The core of a passion can't be understood through our own nature alone (III. Deff. i. and ii.), meaning that (III. vii.), the force of a passion can't be defined by our own attempts to maintain our existence but (as shown in II. xvi.) must be defined by the influence of an external cause in relation to our own. Q.E.D.

PROP. VI. The force of any passion or emotion can overcome the rest of a man's activities or power, so that the emotion becomes obstinately fixed to him.

PROP. VI. The power of any passion or emotion can overpower the rest of a person's actions or abilities, making the emotion stubbornly attached to them.

Proof.—The force and increase of any passion and its persistence in existing are defined by the power of an external cause compared with our own (by the foregoing Prop.); therefore (IV. iii.) it can overcome a man's power, &e. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The strength and growth of any emotion, as well as its ability to last, are determined by the influence of an external cause in relation to our own (as explained in the previous proposition); thus (IV. iii.) it can surpass a person's capacity, etc. Q.E.D.

PROP. VII. An emotion can only be controlled or destroyed by another emotion contrary thereto, and with more power for controlling emotion.

PROP. VII. An emotion can only be managed or eliminated by a different emotion that is the opposite and has greater strength for controlling that emotion.

Proof.—Emotion, in so far as it is referred to the mind, is an idea, whereby the mind affirms of its body a greater or less force of existence than before (cf. the general Definition of the Emotions at the end of Part III.). When, therefore, the mind is assailed by any emotion, the body is at the same time affected with a modification whereby its power of activity is increased or diminished. Now this modification of the body (IV. v.) receives from its cause the force for persistence in its being; which force can only be checked or destroyed by a bodily cause (II. vi.), in virtue of the body being affected with a modification contrary to (III. v.) and stronger than itself (IV. Ax.); wherefore (II. xii.) the mind is affected by the idea of a modification contrary to, and stronger than the former modification, in other words, (by the general definition of the emotions) the mind will be affected by an emotion contrary to and stronger than the former emotion, which will exclude or destroy the existence of the former emotion; thus an emotion cannot be destroyed nor controlled except by a contrary and stronger emotion. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Emotion, as it relates to the mind, is an idea where the mind claims that its body has a greater or lesser force of existence than before (see the general Definition of the Emotions at the end of Part III.). Thus, when the mind experiences any emotion, the body is simultaneously impacted in a way that either increases or decreases its ability to act. This change in the body (IV. v.) gets its strength for continuing to exist from its cause; this strength can only be interrupted or eliminated by a bodily cause (II. vi.) due to the body being affected by a change that is opposite to (III. v.) and stronger than itself (IV. Ax.); therefore (II. xii.), the mind is influenced by the idea of a change that is opposite to, and stronger than, the previous change. In other words, according to the general definition of emotions, the mind will be influenced by an emotion that is opposite and stronger than the previous emotion, which will eliminate or destroy the existence of the earlier emotion; thus, an emotion cannot be destroyed or controlled except by a contrary and stronger emotion. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—An emotion, in so far as it is referred to the mind, can only be controlled or destroyed through an idea of a modification of the body contrary to, and stronger than, that which we are undergoing. For the emotion which we undergo can only be checked or destroyed by an emotion contrary to, and stronger than, itself, in other words, (by the general Definition of the Emotions) only by an idea of a modification of the body contrary to, and stronger than, the modification which we undergo.

Corollary.—An emotion, when connected to the mind, can only be controlled or eliminated through an idea of a change in the body that is opposed to and more powerful than what we are currently experiencing. The emotion we feel can only be countered or eliminated by an emotion that is opposite to and more intense than it, or in other words, (by the general Definition of the Emotions) only through an idea of a change in the body that is contrary to and stronger than the change we are experiencing.

PROP. VIII. The knowledge of good and evil is nothing else but the emotions of pleasure or pain, in so far as we are conscious thereof.

PROP. VIII. The understanding of good and evil is really just the feelings of pleasure or pain, to the extent that we are aware of them.

Proof.—We call a thing good or evil, when it is of service or the reverse in preserving our being (IV. Deff. i. and ii.), that is (III. vii.), when it increases or diminishes, helps or hinders, our power of activity. Thus, in so far as we perceive that a thing affects us with pleasure or pain, we call it good or evil; wherefore the knowledge of good and evil is nothing else but the idea of the pleasure or pain, which necessarily follows from that pleasurable or painful emotion (II. xxii.). But this idea is united to the emotion in the same way as mind is united to body (II. xxi.); that is, there is no real distinction between this idea and the emotion or idea of the modification of the body, save in conception only. Therefore the knowledge of good and evil is nothing else but the emotion, in so far as we are conscious thereof. Q.E.D.

Proof.—We describe something as good or evil based on whether it helps or harms our existence (IV. Deff. i. and ii.), which means (III. vii.) when it increases or decreases, aids or obstructs, our ability to act. So, when we sense that something brings us pleasure or pain, we label it good or evil; hence, understanding good and evil is simply about recognizing the pleasure or pain that comes from that joyful or hurtful feeling (II. xxii.). This understanding is connected to the feeling just like the mind is connected to the body (II. xxi.); in other words, there’s no real difference between this understanding and the feeling or understanding of the body's change, except in our thoughts. Therefore, knowing what is good and evil is essentially the feeling, as long as we are aware of it. Q.E.D.

PROP. IX. An emotion, whereof we conceive the cause to be with us at the present time, is stronger than if we did not conceive the cause to be with us.

PROP. IX. An emotion that we believe is caused by something happening right now is stronger than if we didn't think the cause was related to us.

Proof.—Imagination or conception is the idea, by which the mind regards a thing as present (II. xvii. note), but which indicates the disposition of the mind rather than the nature of the external thing (II. xvi. Coroll. ii.). An emotion is therefore a conception, in so far as it indicates the disposition of the body. But a conception (by II. xvii.) is stronger, so long as we conceive nothing which excludes the present existence of the external object; wherefore an emotion is also stronger or more intense, when we conceive the cause to be with us at the present time, than when we do not conceive the cause to be with us. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Imagination or conception is the idea that the mind uses to see something as present (II. xvii. note), but it reflects the state of the mind more than the actual nature of the outside thing (II. xvi. Coroll. ii.). An emotion, therefore, is a conception as it shows the state of the body. However, a conception (according to II. xvii.) is more powerful as long as we don't think of anything that rules out the current existence of the external object; therefore, an emotion is also stronger or more intense when we believe the cause is currently with us compared to when we think the cause is not with us. Q.E.D.

Note.—When I said above in III. xviii. that we are affected by the image of what is past or future with the same emotion as if the thing conceived were present, I expressly stated, that this is only true in so far as we look solely to the image of the thing in question itself; for the thing's nature is unchanged, whether we have conceived it or not; I did not deny that the image becomes weaker, when we regard as present to us other things which exclude the present existence of the future object: I did not expressly call attention to the fact, because I purposed to treat of the strength of the emotions in this part of my work.

Note.—When I mentioned above in III. xviii. that we are affected by the image of what is past or future with the same feelings as if the thing we imagine were present, I specifically pointed out that this is only true if we focus solely on the image of the thing itself; the nature of the thing does not change, whether we have thought about it or not. I did not deny that the image becomes weaker when we think about other things that make the future object seem less present to us: I didn’t specifically highlight this because I intended to discuss the intensity of emotions in this part of my work.

Corollary.—The image of something past or future, that is, of a thing which we regard as in relation to time past or time future, to the exclusion of time present, is, when other conditions are equal, weaker than the image of something present; consequently an emotion felt towards what is past or future is less intense, other conditions being equal, than an emotion felt towards something present.

Corollary.—The image of something from the past or future, meaning a thing we consider in relation to time that has already happened or that is yet to come, and not considering the present time, is, when other factors are equal, less vivid than the image of something that exists in the present; therefore, an emotion directed towards something past or future is, all else being equal, less intense than an emotion directed towards something present.

PROP. X. Towards something future, which we conceive as close at hand, we are affected more intensely, than if we conceive that its time for existence is separated from the present by a longer interval; so too by the remembrance of what we conceive to have not long passed away we are affected more intensely, than if we conceive that it has long passed away.

PROP. X. When we think about something in the future that we believe is just around the corner, we feel more strongly about it than if we think it’s a long way off. Similarly, when we remember something we think happened recently, we are more strongly affected than if we believe it happened a long time ago.

Proof.—In so far as we conceive a thing as close at hand, or not long passed away, we conceive that which excludes the presence of the object less, than if its period of future existence were more distant from the present, or if it had long passed away (this is obvious) therefore (by the foregoing Prop.) we are, so far, more intensely affected towards it. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Insofar as we see something as nearby or recently gone, we think about it less in terms of its absence than if it were further in the future or had been gone for a long time (this is obvious). Therefore (according to the previous Proposition) we are more strongly affected by it. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—From the remarks made in Def. vi. of this part it follows that, if objects are separated from the present by a longer period than we can define in conception, though their dates of occurrence be widely separated one from the other, they all affect us equally faintly.

Corollary.—From the comments in Def. vi. of this section, it follows that if objects are separated from the present by a longer period than we can grasp in our minds, even if their dates of occurrence are vastly different from each other, they all impact us in equally subtle ways.

PROP. XI. An emotion towards that which we conceive as necessary is, when other conditions are equal, more intense than an emotion towards that which possible, or contingent, or non—necessary.

PROP. XI. An emotion towards something we see as necessary is, when other conditions are equal, more intense than an emotion towards something that is possible, contingent, or not necessary.

Proof.—In so far as we conceive a thing to be necessary, we, to that extent, affirm its existence; on the other hand we deny a thing's existence, in so far as we conceive it not to be necessary (I. xxxiii. note. i.); wherefore (IV. ix.) an emotion towards that which is necessary is, other conditions being equal, more intense than an emotion that which is non—necessary. Q.E.D.

Proof.—As far as we think something is necessary, we affirm that it exists; conversely, we deny its existence to the extent that we don’t see it as necessary (I. xxxiii. note. i.); therefore (IV. ix.), an emotion towards what is necessary, all else being equal, is more intense than an emotion towards what is not necessary. Q.E.D.

PROP. XII. An emotion towards a thing, which we know not to exist at the present time, and which we conceive as possible, is more intense, other conditions being equal, than an emotion towards a thing contingent.

PROP. XII. An emotion towards something that we know doesn't currently exist, but we think could exist, is stronger, all other things being equal, than an emotion towards something that could happen.

Proof.—In so far as we conceive a thing as contingent, we are affected by the conception of some further thing, which would assert the existence of the former (IV. Def. iii.); but, on the other hand, we (by hypothesis) conceive certain things, which exclude its present existence. But, in so far as we conceive a thing to be possible in the future, we there by conceive things which assert its existence (IV. iv.), that is (III. xviii.), things which promote hope or fear: wherefore an emotion towards something possible is more vehement. Q.E.D.

Proof.—As long as we think of something as uncertain, we are influenced by the idea of something else that would confirm the existence of the first thing (IV. Def. iii.); however, at the same time, we (by assumption) think of certain things that deny its current existence. But, as far as we think of something as potentially happening in the future, we also think of things that affirm its existence (IV. iv.), which are (III. xviii.) things that foster hope or fear: therefore, an emotion toward something possible is more intense. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—An emotion towards a thing, which we know not to exist in the present, and which we conceive as contingent, is far fainter, than if we conceive the thing to be present with us.

Corollary.—An emotion toward something we know doesn't exist right now and that we see as uncertain is much weaker than if we think of that thing as being right here with us.

Proof.—Emotion towards a thing, which we conceive to exist, is more intense than it would be, if we conceived the thing as future (IV. ix. Coroll.), and is much more vehement, than if the future time be conceived as far distant from the present (IV. x.). Therefore an emotion towards a thing, whose period of existence we conceive to be far distant from the present, is far fainter, than if we conceive the thing as present; it is, nevertheless, more intense, than if we conceived the thing as contingent, wherefore an emotion towards a thing, which we regard as contingent, will be far fainter, than if we conceived the thing to be present with us. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Emotion towards something we believe exists is stronger than it would be if we thought about it as something that will happen in the future (IV. ix. Coroll.), and it's much more intense than if we see that future event as very far away from now (IV. x.). Therefore, the emotion we feel towards something we think won't happen for a long time is much weaker than if we believe it's happening now; however, it is still more intense than if we think the thing is just a possibility. Thus, our feelings towards something we see as a possibility will be much weaker than if we see it as happening right now. Q.E.D.

PROP. XIII. Emotion towards a thing contingent, which we know not to exist in the present, is, other conditions being equal, fainter than an emotion towards a thing past.

PROP. XIII. Emotion towards something that may happen, which we know does not currently exist, is, all else being equal, weaker than an emotion towards something that has already happened.

Proof.—In so far as we conceive a thing as contingent, we are not affected by the image of any other thing, which asserts the existence of the said thing (IV. Def. iii.), but, on the other hand (by hypothesis), we conceive certain things excluding its present existence. But, in so far as we conceive it in relation to time past, we are assumed to conceive something, which recalls the thing to memory, or excites the image thereof (II. xviii. and note), which is so far the same as regarding it as present (II. xvii. Coroll.). Therefore (IV. ix.) an emotion towards a thing contingent, which we know does not exist in the present, is fainter, other conditions being equal, than an emotion towards a thing past. Q.E.D.

Proof.—As long as we see something as contingent, we’re not influenced by the idea of any other thing that claims the existence of that thing (IV. Def. iii.), but rather (by assumption), we see certain things that exclude its current existence. However, when we think about it in relation to the past, we are thought to recall something that brings that thing to mind or evokes its image (II. xviii. and note), which is essentially the same as considering it as present (II. xvi. Coroll.). Therefore (IV. ix.), an emotion towards a contingent thing that we know is not present is weaker, all else being equal, than an emotion towards a past thing. Q.E.D.

PROP. XIV. A true knowledge of good and evil cannot check any emotion by virtue of being true, but only in so far as it is considered as an emotion.

PROP. XIV. A real understanding of good and evil can't control any emotion just because it's true, but only as far as it's seen as an emotion.

Proof.—An emotion is an idea, whereby the mind affirms of its body a greater or less force of existing than before (by the general Definition of the Emotions); therefore it has no positive quality, which can be destroyed by the presence of what is true; consequently the knowledge of good and evil cannot, by virtue of being true, restrain any emotion. But, in so far as such knowledge is an emotion (IV. viii.) if it have more strength for restraining emotion, it will to that extent be able to restrain the given emotion. Q.E.D.

Proof.—An emotion is an idea through which the mind recognizes a greater or lesser force of existence in its body than before (according to the general definition of emotions); therefore, it has no intrinsic quality that can be negated by the presence of what is true. As a result, the understanding of good and evil cannot, simply by being true, limit any emotion. However, to the extent that such understanding is itself an emotion (IV. viii.), if it has greater strength in restraining emotion, it will be able to restrain the specific emotion to that degree. Q.E.D.

PROP. XV. Desire arising from the knowledge of good and bad can be quenched or checked by many of the other desires arising from the emotions whereby we are assailed.

PROP. XV. Desire that comes from knowing what is good and what is bad can be subdued or controlled by many of the other desires that stem from the emotions we experience.

Proof.—From the true knowledge of good and evil, in so far as it is an emotion, necessarily arises desire (Def. of the Emotions, i.), the strength of which is proportioned to the strength of the emotion wherefrom it arises (III. xxxvii.). But, inasmuch as this desire arises (by hypothesis) from the fact of our truly understanding anything, it follows that it is also present with us, in so far as we are active (III. i.), and must therefore be understood through our essence only (III. Def. ii.); consequently (III. vii.) its force and increase can be defined solely by human power. Again, the desires arising from the emotions whereby we are assailed are stronger, in proportion as the said emotions are more vehement; wherefore their force and increase must be defined solely by the power of external causes, which, when compared with our own power, indefinitely surpass it (IV. iii.); hence the desires arising from like emotions may be more vehement, than the desire which arises from a true knowledge of good and evil, and may, consequently, control or quench it. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The real understanding of good and evil, as it relates to emotion, naturally leads to desire (Def. of the Emotions, i.), and the strength of this desire matches the strength of the emotion that generates it (III. xxxvii.). Since this desire arises (by assumption) from our genuine understanding of something, it is also present with us as long as we are active (III. i.), and must be understood only through our essence (III. Def. ii.); therefore (III. vii.) its power and growth can only be measured by human ability. Additionally, the desires that come from the emotions we experience are stronger the more intense those emotions are; therefore, their power and growth must be measured solely by the influence of external causes, which far exceed our own power when compared (IV. iii.); thus, the desires that come from similar emotions can be stronger than the desire that arises from a true understanding of good and evil and may, as a result, overpower or extinguish it. Q.E.D.

PROP. XVI. Desire arising from the knowledge of good and evil, in so far as such knowledge regards what is future, may be more easily controlled or quenched, than the desire for what is agreeable at the present moment.

PROP. XVI. Desire that comes from knowing good and evil, particularly when it relates to the future, can be more easily managed or extinguished than the desire for immediate pleasure.

Proof.—Emotion towards a thing, which we conceive as future, is fainter than emotion towards a thing that is present (IV. ix. Coroll.). But desire, which arises from the true knowledge of good and evil, though it be concerned with things which are good at the moment, can be quenched or controlled by any headstrong desire (by the last Prop., the proof whereof is of universal application). Wherefore desire arising from such knowledge, when concerned with the future, can be more easily controlled or quenched, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Emotion towards something we think of as future is less intense than emotion towards something that is present (IV. ix. Coroll.). However, desire, which comes from a true understanding of good and evil, even if it relates to good things in the moment, can be dampened or controlled by any strong desire (as shown in the last Proposition, which applies universally). Therefore, desire that comes from such knowledge, when focused on the future, can be more easily managed or extinguished, etc. Q.E.D.

PROP. XVII. Desire arising from the true knowledge of good and evil, in so far as such knowledge is concerned with what is contingent, can be controlled far more easily still, than desire for things that are present.

PROP. XVII. Desire that comes from a genuine understanding of good and evil, especially when that understanding relates to what is uncertain, can be managed much more easily than desire for things that are currently available.

Proof.—This Prop. is proved in the same way as the last Prop. from IV. xii. Coroll.

Proof.—This proposition is proved in the same way as the previous one from IV. xii. Coroll.

Note.—I think I have now shown the reason, why men are moved by opinion more readily than by true reason, why it is that the true knowledge of good and evil stirs up conflicts in the soul, and often yields to every kind of passion. This state of things gave rise to the exclamation of the poet:[12]—— "The better path I gaze at and approve, The worse—I follow."

Note.—I believe I've demonstrated why people are influenced more by opinion than by true reason, and why a true understanding of good and evil creates turmoil in the soul and often succumbs to various passions. This situation inspired the poet's saying:[12]—— "I see and agree with the better path, yet I choose to follow the worse."

[12] Ov. Met. vii.20, "Video meliora proboque, Deteriora sequor."

[12] Ov. Met. vii.20, "I see the better course and approve of it, but I follow the worse."


Ecclesiastes seems to have had the same thought in his mind, when he says, "He who increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow." I have not written the above with the object of drawing the conclusion, that ignorance is more excellent than knowledge, or that a wise man is on a par with a fool in controlling his emotions, but because it is necessary to know the power and the infirmity of our nature, before we can determine what reason can do in restraining the emotions, and what is beyond her power. I have said, that in the present part I shall merely treat of human infirmity. The power of reason over the emotions I have settled to treat separately.

Ecclesiastes seemed to have the same idea when he said, "The more knowledge you gain, the more sorrow you experience." I didn't write the above to suggest that ignorance is better than knowledge or that a wise person is equivalent to a fool when it comes to controlling their feelings, but rather because it's important to understand both the strengths and weaknesses of our nature before we can figure out what reason can do to manage our emotions and what is beyond its reach. I’ve mentioned that in this section, I will only discuss human weaknesses. The influence of reason over emotions will be covered separately.

PROP. XVIII. Desire arising from pleasure is, other conditions being equal, stronger than desire arising from pain.

PROP. XVIII. Desire that comes from pleasure, all else being equal, is stronger than desire that comes from pain.

Proof.—Desire is the essence of a man (Def. of the Emotions, i.), that is, the endeavour whereby a man endeavours to persist in his own being. Wherefore desire arising from pleasure is, by the fact of pleasure being felt, increased or helped; on the contrary, desire arising from pain is, by the fact of pain being felt, diminished or hindered; hence the force of desire arising from pleasure must be defined by human power together with the power of an external cause, whereas desire arising from pain must be defined by human power only. Thus the former is the stronger of the two. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Desire is the essence of a person (Def. of the Emotions, i.), meaning that it's the effort by which a person tries to maintain their own existence. Therefore, desire that comes from pleasure is heightened or supported by the experience of pleasure; on the other hand, desire that comes from pain is weakened or obstructed by the experience of pain. So, the intensity of desire that arises from pleasure must be determined by human ability along with the influence of an external factor, while desire that comes from pain is determined solely by human ability. Thus, the former is stronger than the latter. Q.E.D.

Note.—In these few remarks I have explained the causes of human infirmity and inconstancy, and shown why men do not abide by the precepts of reason. It now remains for me to show what course is marked out for us by reason, which of the emotions are in harmony with the rules of human reason, and which of them are contrary thereto. But, before I begin to prove my Propositions in detailed geometrical fashion, it is advisable to sketch them briefly in advance, so that everyone may more readily grasp my meaning.

Note.—In these brief comments, I’ve explained the reasons behind human weakness and inconsistency and shown why people struggle to follow the principles of reason. Now, I need to outline what path reason sets for us, which emotions align with human reasoning, and which ones go against it. But before I dive into proving my points in detail, it's helpful to summarize them first, so that everyone can better understand what I mean.

As reason makes no demands contrary to nature, it demands, that every man should love himself, should seek that which is useful to him—I mean, that which is really useful to him, should desire everything which really brings man to greater perfection, and should, each for himself, endeavour as far as he can to preserve his own being. This is as necessarily true, as that a whole is greater than its part. (Cf. III. iv.)

As reason doesn't ask for anything that goes against nature, it requires that everyone should love themselves, seek what is beneficial to them—I mean, what is genuinely beneficial for them, desire everything that truly helps people reach greater perfection, and should, each on their own, strive as much as they can to maintain their own existence. This is just as true as the fact that a whole is greater than its parts. (Cf. III. iv.)

Again, as virtue is nothing else but action in accordance with the laws of one's own nature (IV. Def. viii.), and as no one endeavours to preserve his own being, except in accordance with the laws of his own nature, it follows, first, that the foundation of virtue is the endeavour to preserve one's own being, and that happiness consists in man's power of preserving his own being; secondly, that virtue is to be desired for its own sake, and that there is nothing more excellent or more useful to us, for the sake of which we should desire it; thirdly and lastly, that suicides are weak—minded, and are overcome by external causes repugnant to their nature. Further, it follows from Postulate iv., Part II., that we can never arrive at doing without all external things for the preservation of our being or living, so as to have no relations with things which are outside ourselves. Again, if we consider our mind, we see that our intellect would be more imperfect, if mind were alone, and could understand nothing besides itself. There are, then, many things outside ourselves, which are useful to us, and are, therefore, to be desired. Of such none can be discerned more excellent, than those which are in entire agreement with our nature. For if, for example, two individuals of entirely the same nature are united, they form a combination twice as powerful as either of them singly.

Again, since virtue is simply acting in line with one's own nature (IV. Def. viii.), and no one tries to preserve their existence other than according to the laws of their own nature, it follows that, first, the foundation of virtue is the effort to preserve one's own existence, and that happiness comes from a person's ability to maintain their own existence; second, that virtue is something we should value for its own sake, and that there is nothing better or more beneficial for which we should want it; third, and finally, that those who commit suicide are weak-minded and are defeated by external factors that go against their nature. Furthermore, it follows from Postulate iv., Part II., that we can never completely rely on external things for the preservation of our existence or living, such that we have no connections with things outside ourselves. Additionally, when we reflect on our minds, we can see that our intellect would be far less complete if the mind were solitary and could understand nothing beyond itself. Therefore, there are many things outside ourselves that are beneficial to us, and so, they should be desired. Among these, none can be seen as more excellent than those that fully align with our nature. For instance, if two individuals of exactly the same nature come together, they create a force that is twice as strong as either one alone.

Therefore, to man there is nothing more useful than man—nothing, I repeat, more excellent for preserving their being can be wished for by men, than that all should so in all points agree, that the minds and bodies of all should form, as it were, one single mind and one single body, and that all should, with one consent, as far as they are able, endeavour to preserve their being, and all with one consent seek what is useful to them all. Hence, men who are governed by reason—that is, who seek what is useful to them in accordance with reason, desire for themselves nothing, which they do not also desire for the rest of mankind, and, consequently, are just, faithful, and honourable in their conduct.

Therefore, for humans, there is nothing more valuable than other humans—nothing, I repeat, more important for maintaining their existence can be desired by people, than for everyone to completely agree, so that the minds and bodies of all create, in a way, one single mind and one single body. Everyone should, as much as they can, work together to preserve their existence, and all should, with unified intent, pursue what is beneficial for everyone. Thus, individuals who are guided by reason—that is, who seek what is beneficial in line with reason—desire nothing for themselves that they do not also wish for the rest of humanity, and therefore, they are just, trustworthy, and honorable in their actions.

Such are the dictates of reason, which I purposed thus briefly to indicate, before beginning to prove them in greater detail. I have taken this course, in order, if possible, to gain the attention of those who believe, that the principle that every man is bound to seek what is useful for himself is the foundation of impiety, rather than of piety and virtue.

Such are the demands of reason, which I intend to highlight briefly before I start to explain them in more detail. I’ve taken this approach in hopes of capturing the attention of those who believe that the idea that everyone must pursue what is beneficial for themselves is more about immorality than about morality and virtue.

Therefore, after briefly showing that the contrary is the case, I go on to prove it by the same method, as that whereby I have hitherto proceeded.

Therefore, after briefly demonstrating that the opposite is true, I will proceed to prove it using the same method that I have followed so far.

PROP. XIX. Every man, by the laws of his nature, necessarily desires or shrinks from that which he deems to be good or bad.

PROP. XIX. Every person, by their nature, either desires or avoids what they believe to be good or bad.

Proof.—The knowledge of good and evil is (IV. viii.) the emotion of pleasure or pain, in so far as we are conscious thereof; therefore, every man necessarily desires what he thinks good, and shrinks from what he thinks bad. Now this appetite is nothing else but man's nature or essence (Cf. the Definition of Appetite, III. ix. note, and Def. of the Emotions, i.). Therefore, every man, solely by the laws of his nature, desires the one, and shrinks from the other, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Knowing good and evil is about feeling pleasure or pain, as long as we are aware of it; therefore, everyone naturally wants what they consider good and avoids what they see as bad. This desire is simply part of human nature or essence (See the Definition of Appetite, III. ix. note, and Def. of the Emotions, i.). So, every person, just based on the laws of their nature, desires one and avoids the other, etc. Q.E.D.

PROP. XX. The more every man endeavours, and is able to seek what is useful to him—in other words, to preserve his own being—the more is he endowed with virtue; on the contrary, in proportion as a man neglects to seek what is useful to him, that is, to preserve his own being, he is wanting in power.

PROP. XX. The more a person tries and is capable of finding what benefits them—in other words, to maintain their own existence—the more virtuous they become; conversely, the less a person makes an effort to find what is beneficial to them, meaning to sustain their own existence, the less power they possess.

Proof.—Virtue is human power, which is defined solely by man's essence (IV. Def. viii.), that is, which is defined solely by the endeavour made by man to persist in his own being. Wherefore, the more a man endeavours, and is able to preserve his own being, the more is he endowed with virtue, and, consequently (III. iv. and vi.), in so far as a man neglects to preserve his own being, he is wanting in power. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Virtue is human power, defined only by what it means to be human (IV. Def. viii.), specifically, by a person’s effort to continue existing. Therefore, the more a person strives and is able to maintain their existence, the more virtue they possess. Consequently (III. iv. and vi.), to the extent that a person fails to preserve their own being, they lack power. Q.E.D.

Note.—No one, therefore, neglects seeking his own good, or preserving his own being, unless he be overcome by causes external and foreign to his nature. No one, I say, from the necessity of his own nature, or otherwise than under compulsion from external causes, shrinks from food, or kills himself: which latter may be done in a variety of ways. A man, for instance, kills himself under the compulsion of another man, who twists round his right hand, wherewith he happened to have taken up a sword, and forces him to turn the blade against his own heart; or, again, he may be compelled, like Seneca, by a tyrant's command, to open his own veins—that is, to escape a greater evil by incurring, a lesser; or, lastly, latent external causes may so disorder his imagination, and so affect his body, that it may assume a nature contrary to its former one, and whereof the idea cannot exist in the mind (III. x.) But that a man, from the necessity of his own nature, should endeavour to become non—existent, is as impossible as that something should be made out of nothing, as everyone will see for himself, after a little reflection.

Note.—No one neglects to seek their own well-being or preserve their own existence unless they are overwhelmed by external forces that aren't part of their nature. No one, I say, out of genuine necessity or other than under compulsion from outside influences, avoids food or takes their own life: the latter can happen in various ways. For instance, a person might take their own life because another person forces them to turn a sword they picked up against their own heart; or they might be compelled, like Seneca, by a tyrant to cut their own veins—that is, to escape a greater evil by facing a lesser one; or finally, hidden external factors might disrupt their mind and affect their body so much that it takes on a nature different from its original one, which the mind can't even conceive (III. x.) But for someone to genuinely wish to stop existing goes against their fundamental nature, which is as impossible as creating something from nothing, as anyone can see after a moment of thought.

PROP. XXI. No one can desire to be blessed, to act rightly, and to live rightly, without at the same time wishing to be, act, and to live—in other words, to actually exist.

PROP. XXI. No one can want to be happy, do the right thing, and live well without also wanting to be, act, and live—in other words, to actually exist.

Proof.—The proof of this proposition, or rather the proposition itself, is self—evident, and is also plain from the definition of desire. For the desire of living, acting, &c., blessedly or rightly, is (Def. of the Emotions, i.) the essence of man—that is (III. vii.), the endeavour made by everyone to preserve his own being. Therefore, no one can desire, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The proof of this proposition, or rather the proposition itself, is obvious and is also clear from the definition of desire. For the desire to live, act, etc., happily or correctly, is (Def. of the Emotions, i.) the essence of being human—that is (III. vii.), the effort made by everyone to maintain their own existence. Therefore, no one can desire, etc. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXII. No virtue can be conceived as prior to this endeavour to preserve one's own being.

PROP. XXII. No virtue can be seen as more important than the effort to protect one's own existence.

Proof.—The effort for self—preservation is the essence of a thing (III. vii.); therefore, if any virtue could be conceived as prior thereto, the essence of a thing would have to be conceived as prior to itself, which is obviously absurd. Therefore no virtue, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The drive for self-preservation is the core of a thing (III. vii.); therefore, if any virtue could be thought of as preceding it, the essence of a thing would have to be considered as preceding itself, which is clearly ridiculous. Thus, no virtue, etc. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—The effort for self—preservation is the first and only foundation of virtue. For prior to this principle nothing can be conceived, and without it no virtue can be conceived.

Corollary.—The drive for self-preservation is the primary and only basis of virtue. Because without this principle, nothing can be imagined, and without it, no virtue can be envisioned.

PROP. XXIII. Man, in so far as he is determined to a particular action because he has inadequate ideas, cannot be absolutely said to act in obedience to virtue; he can only be so described, in so far as he is determined for the action because he understands.

PROP. XXIII. Man, to the extent that he is driven to a specific action due to his inadequate ideas, cannot be truly said to act according to virtue; he can only be described as such to the degree that he is motivated for the action because he understands.

Proof.—In so far as a man is determined to an action through having inadequate ideas, he is passive (III. i.), that is (III. Deff. i., and iii.), he does something, which cannot be perceived solely through his essence, that is (by IV. Def. viii.), which does not follow from his virtue. But, in so far as he is determined for an action because he understands, he is active; that is, he does something, which is perceived through his essence alone, or which adequately follows from his virtue. Q.E.D.

Proof.—To the extent that a person is driven to take action because of unclear ideas, he is being passive (III. i.), which means (III. Def. i., and iii.) he does something that can't be understood just from his essence; in other words (by IV. Def. viii.), it doesn't stem from his true nature. However, to the extent that he takes action because he understands, he is being active; this means he does something that can be understood solely through his essence or that properly follows from his true nature. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXIV. To act absolutely in obedience to virtue is in us the same thing as to act, to live, or to preserve one's being (these three terms are identical in meaning) in accordance with the dictates of reason on the basis of seeking what is useful to one's self.

PROP. XXIV. Acting completely in line with virtue means the same for us as acting, living, or maintaining our existence (these three terms have the same meaning) in accordance with reason's guidance while aiming for what benefits ourselves.

Proof.—To act absolutely in obedience to virtue is nothing else but to act according to the laws of one's own nature. But we only act, in so far as we understand (III. iii.): therefore to act in obedience to virtue is in us nothing else but to act, to live, or to preserve one's being in obedience to reason, and that on the basis of seeking what is useful for us (IV. xxii. Coroll.). Q.E.D.

Proof.—To fully obey virtue means to act according to our own nature. But we only act to the extent that we understand (III. iii.); therefore, to act in accordance with virtue for us is simply to act, to live, or to maintain our existence in line with reason, and that is based on seeking what is beneficial for us (IV. xxii. Coroll.). Q.E.D.

PROP. XXV. No one wishes to preserve his being for the sake of anything else.

PROP. XXV. No one wants to maintain their existence for the sake of anything else.

Proof.—The endeavour, wherewith everything endeavours to persist in its being, is defined solely by the essence of the thing itself (III. vii.); from this alone, and not from the essence of anything else, it necessarily follows (III. vi.) that everyone endeavours to preserve his being. Moreover, this proposition is plain from IV. xxii. Coroll., for if a man should endeavour to preserve his being for the sake of anything else, the last—named thing would obviously be the basis of virtue, which, by the foregoing corollary, is absurd. Therefore no one, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The effort that everything makes to keep existing is determined only by the nature of the thing itself (III. vii.); from this alone, and not from the nature of anything else, it necessarily follows (III. vi.) that everyone tries to preserve their existence. Moreover, this statement is clear from IV. xxii. Coroll., because if a person were to try to preserve their existence for the sake of something else, that last thing would clearly be the foundation of virtue, which, according to the previous corollary, is absurd. Therefore no one, etc. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXVI. Whatsoever we endeavour in obedience to reason is nothing further than to understand; neither does the mind, in so far as it makes use of reason, judge anything to be useful to it, save such things as are conducive to understanding.

PROP. XXVI. Anything we strive for in accordance with reason is simply about understanding; the mind, when it uses reason, only considers things useful if they help in understanding.

Proof.—The effort for self—preservation is nothing else but the essence of the thing in question (III. vii.), which, in so far as it exists such as it is, is conceived to have force for continuing in existence (III. vi.) and doing such things as necessarily follow from its given nature (see the Def. of Appetite, III. ix. note). But the essence of reason is nought else but our mind, in so far as it clearly and distinctly understands (see the definition in II. xl. note. ii.); therefore (II. xl.) whatsoever we endeavour in obedience to reason is nothing else but to understand. Again, since this effort of the mind wherewith the mind endeavours, in so far as it reasons, to preserve its own being is nothing else but understanding; this effort at understanding is (IV. xxii. Coroll.) the first and single basis of virtue, nor shall we endeavour to understand things for the sake of any ulterior object (IV. xxv.); on the other hand, the mind, in so far as it reasons, will not be able to conceive any good for itself, save such things as are conducive to understanding.

Proof.—The drive for self-preservation is essentially the core of the matter at hand (III. vii.), which, as it exists, is understood to have the power to continue existing (III. vi.) and to carry out actions that naturally arise from its given nature (see the Def. of Appetite, III. ix. note). However, the essence of reason is nothing but our mind, as it clearly and distinctly understands (see the definition in II. xl. note. ii.); thus (II. xl.) everything we strive for in accordance with reason is essentially about understanding. Furthermore, since this mental effort that the mind exerts while reasoning to preserve its own existence is merely understanding; this pursuit of understanding is (IV. xxii. Coroll.) the foundational basis of virtue, and we won’t seek to understand things for any other purpose (IV. xxv.); conversely, the mind, as it reasons, will only be able to conceive of good for itself through things that promote understanding.

PROP. XXVII. We know nothing to be certainly good or evil, save such things as really conduce to understanding, or such as are able to hinder us from understanding.

PROP. XXVII. We don’t know anything for sure to be good or bad, except for things that really help us understand or things that can stop us from understanding.

Proof.—The mind, in so far as it reasons, desires nothing beyond understanding, and judges nothing to be useful to itself, save such things as conduce to understanding (by the foregoing Prop.). But the mind (II. xli., xliii. and note) cannot possess certainty concerning anything, except in so far as it has adequate ideas, or (what by II. xl. note, is the same thing) in so far as it reasons. Therefore we know nothing to be good or evil save such things as really conduce, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The mind, as far as it reasons, wants nothing more than to understand, and it considers nothing useful for itself except what contributes to that understanding (as mentioned in the previous Proposition). However, the mind (II. xli., xliii. and note) can only be certain about something if it has adequate ideas, or (which is the same according to II. xl. note) as long as it reasons. Therefore, we know nothing is good or bad except those things that truly contribute, etc. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXVIII. The mind's highest good is the knowledge of God, and the mind's highest virtue is to know God.

PROP. XXVIII. The greatest good for the mind is knowing God, and the highest virtue of the mind is to understand God.

Proof.—The mind is not capable of understanding anything higher than God, that is (I. Def. vi.), than a Being absolutely infinite, and without which (I. xv.) nothing can either be or be conceived; therefore (IV. xxvi. and xxvii.), the mind's highest utility or (IV. Def. i.) good is the knowledge of God. Again, the mind is active, only in so far as it understands, and only to the same extent can it be said absolutely to act virtuously. The mind's absolute virtue is therefore to understand. Now, as we have already shown, the highest that the mind can understand is God; therefore the highest virtue of the mind is to understand or to know God. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The mind can't grasp anything greater than God, which is (I. Def. vi.) an absolutely infinite Being, and without which (I. xv.) nothing can exist or be imagined; therefore (IV. xxvi. and xxvii.), the greatest benefit or (IV. Def. i.) good for the mind is knowing God. Moreover, the mind is only active to the degree that it understands, and it can only be said to act virtuously to that same extent. The mind's highest virtue is, therefore, understanding. As we've already established, the highest thing the mind can understand is God; consequently, the greatest virtue of the mind is to understand or know God. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXIX. No individual thing, which is entirely different from our own nature, can help or check our power of activity, and absolutely nothing can do us good or harm, unless it has something in common with our nature.

PROP. XXIX. No single thing that is completely different from our nature can help or limit our ability to act, and nothing can truly benefit or harm us unless it shares something in common with our nature.

Proof.—The power of every individual thing, and consequently the power of man, whereby he exists and operates, can only be determined by an individual thing (I. xxviii.), whose nature (II. vi.) must be understood through the same nature as that, through which human nature is conceived. Therefore our power of activity, however it be conceived, can be determined and consequently helped or hindered by the power of any other individual thing, which has something in common with us, but not by the power of anything, of which the nature is entirely different from our own; and since we call good or evil that which is the cause of pleasure or pain (IV. viii.), that is (III. xi. note), which increases or diminishes, helps or hinders, our power of activity; therefore, that which is entirely different from our nature can neither be to us good nor bad. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The power of every individual thing, and therefore the power of humanity, which allows us to exist and act, can only be understood through another individual thing (I. xxviii.), whose nature (II. vi.) must be grasped through the same nature that informs our understanding of human nature. Thus, our ability to act, no matter how it's perceived, can be influenced and either supported or restricted by the power of any other individual thing that has something in common with us, but not by anything whose nature is completely different from our own. Since we label as good or evil that which causes pleasure or pain (IV. viii.), which means (III. xi. note) that increases or decreases, helps or hinders our ability to act, it follows that anything that is entirely different from our nature can neither be good nor bad for us. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXX. A thing cannot be bad for us through the quality which it has in common with our nature, but it is bad for us in so far as it is contrary to our nature.

PROP. XXX. A thing can't be harmful to us because of the qualities it shares with our nature, but it is harmful to us to the extent that it goes against our nature.

Proof.—We call a thing bad when it is the cause of pain (IV. viii.), that is (by the Def., which see in III. xi. note), when it diminishes or checks our power of action. Therefore, if anything were bad for us through that quality which it has in common with our nature, it would be able itself to diminish or check that which it has in common with our nature, which (III. iv.) is absurd. Wherefore nothing can be bad for us through that quality which it has in common with us, but, on the other hand, in so far as it is bad for us, that is (as we have just shown), in so far as it can diminish or check our power of action, it is contrary to our nature. Q.E.D.

Proof.—We call something bad when it causes pain (IV. viii.), which means (according to the definition, see III. xi. note) that it reduces or limits our ability to act. Therefore, if anything were bad for us because of a quality it shares with our nature, it would also have the power to reduce or limit that same quality in us, which (III. iv.) is nonsense. Thus, nothing can be bad for us based on the qualities it shares with us. On the other hand, in terms of how it is bad for us, that is (as we just demonstrated), in how it can reduce or limit our ability to act, it contradicts our nature. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXXI. In so far as a thing is in harmony with our nature, it is necessarily good.

PROP. XXXI. If something aligns with our nature, it is inherently good.

Proof.—In so far as a thing is in harmony with our nature, it cannot be bad for it. It will therefore necessarily be either good or indifferent. If it be assumed that it be neither good nor bad, nothing will follow from its nature (IV. Def. i.), which tends to the preservation of our nature, that is (by the hypothesis), which tends to the preservation of the thing itself; but this (III. vi.) is absurd; therefore, in so far as a thing is in harmony with our nature, it is necessarily good. Q.E.D.

Proof.—As long as something aligns with our nature, it can't be harmful. So, it must be either good or neutral. If we assume it's neither good nor bad, then nothing will come from its nature (IV. Def. i.), which supports the preservation of our nature, meaning (according to the hypothesis), it supports the preservation of the thing itself; but this (III. vi.) is nonsense; therefore, as far as something is in alignment with our nature, it is necessarily good. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Hence it follows, that, in proportion as a thing is in harmony with our nature, so is it more useful or better for us, and vice versâ, in proportion as a thing is more useful for us, so is it more in harmony with our nature. For, in so far as it is not in harmony with our nature, it will necessarily be different therefrom or contrary thereto. If different, it can neither be good nor bad (IV. xxix.); if contrary, it will be contrary to that which is in harmony with our nature, that is, contrary to what is good—in short, bad. Nothing, therefore, can be good, except in so far as it is in harmony with our nature; and hence a thing is useful, in proportion as it is in harmony with our nature, and vice versâ. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—It follows that the more something aligns with our nature, the more useful or better it is for us, and conversely, the more useful something is for us, the more it aligns with our nature. To the extent that it doesn’t align with our nature, it must be different from or opposed to it. If it's different, it can't really be good or bad (IV. xxix.); if it's opposed, it will be against what aligns with our nature, which is essentially against what is good—in short, bad. Therefore, nothing can be good unless it aligns with our nature; and so, something is useful to the extent that it aligns with our nature, and vice versa. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXXII. In so far as men are a prey to passion, they cannot, in that respect, be said to be naturally in harmony.

PROP. XXXII. As long as people are driven by passion, they can't be considered naturally in harmony in that regard.

Proof.—Things, which are said to be in harmony naturally, are understood to agree in power (III. vii.), not in want of power or negation, and consequently not in passion (III. iii. note); wherefore men, in so far as they are a prey to their passions, cannot be said to be naturally in harmony. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Things that are said to be naturally in harmony are understood to agree in power (III. vii.), not in lack of power or denial, and therefore not in passion (III. iii. note); for this reason, people, as long as they are influenced by their passions, cannot be considered to be naturally in harmony. Q.E.D.

Note.—This is also self—evident; for, if we say that white and black only agree in the fact that neither is red, we absolutely affirm that the do not agree in any respect. So, if we say that a man and a stone only agree in the fact that both are finite—wanting in power, not existing by the necessity of their own nature, or, lastly, indefinitely surpassed by the power of external causes—we should certainly affirm that a man and a stone are in no respect alike; therefore, things which agree only in negation, or in qualities which neither possess, really agree in no respect.

Note.—This is also obvious; because, if we say that white and black only share the fact that neither is red, we are completely stating that they do not agree in any way. So, if we say that a man and a stone only share the fact that both are finite—lacking in power, not existing out of necessity of their own nature, or, lastly, indefinitely surpassed by the power of external causes—we would certainly conclude that a man and a stone are in no way similar; therefore, things that only agree in what they lack, or in qualities that neither possess, truly do not agree in any way.

PROP. XXXIII. Men can differ in nature, in so far as they are assailed by those emotions, which are passions, or passive states; and to this extent one and the same man is variable and inconstant.

PROP. XXXIII. Men can differ in nature because they experience emotions that are passions or passive states; and to this extent, the same person can be variable and inconsistent.

Proof.—The nature or essence of the emotions cannot be explained solely through our essence or nature (III. Deff. i., ii.), but it must be defined by the power, that is (III. vii.), by the nature of external causes in comparison with our own; hence it follows, that there are as many kinds of each emotion as there are external objects whereby we are affected (III. lvi.), and that men may be differently affected by one and the same object (III. li.), and to this extent differ in nature; lastly, that one and the same man may be differently affected towards the same object, and may therefore be variable and inconstant. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The nature or essence of emotions cannot be explained just by our own essence or nature (III. Deff. i., ii.), but it must be defined by the influence of external causes (III. vii.) compared to our own; therefore, there are as many kinds of each emotion as there are external objects that affect us (III. lvi.), and different people may react differently to the same object (III. li.), which means they differ in nature; finally, the same person can also be affected differently by the same object, making them variable and inconsistent. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXXIV. In so far as men are assailed by emotions which are passions, they can be contrary one to another.

PROP. XXXIV. As far as people are affected by emotions that are passions, they can be opposed to each other.

Proof.—A man, for instance Peter, can be the cause of Paul's feeling pain, because he (Peter) possesses something similar to that which Paul hates (III. xvi.), or because Peter has sole possession of a thing which Paul also loves (III. xxxii. and note), or for other causes (of which the chief are enumerated in III. lv. note); it may therefore happen that Paul should hate Peter (Def. of Emotions, vii.), consequently it may easily happen also, that Peter should hate Paul in return, and that each should endeavour to do the other an injury, (III. xxxix.), that is (IV. xxx.), that they should be contrary one to another. But the emotion of pain is always a passion or passive state (III. lix.); hence men, in so far as they are assailed by emotions which are passions, can be contrary one to another. Q.E.D.

Proof.—A man, like Peter, can cause Paul to feel pain because he (Peter) has something that Paul hates (III. xvi.), or because Peter exclusively has something that Paul also loves (III. xxxii. and note), or for other reasons (the main ones listed in III. lv. note); it may happen that Paul hates Peter (Def. of Emotions, vii.), and so it can easily occur that Peter hates Paul back, leading each to try to hurt the other (III. xxxix.), meaning (IV. xxx.) that they oppose each other. However, the emotion of pain is always a passion or passive state (III. lix.); therefore, men, when affected by emotions that are passions, can oppose each other. Q.E.D.

Note.—I said that Paul may hate Peter, because he conceives that Peter possesses something which he (Paul) also loves; from this it seems, at first sight, to follow, that these two men, through both loving the same thing, and, consequently, through agreement of their respective natures, stand in one another's way; if this were so, Props. xxx. and xxxi. of this part would be untrue. But if we give the matter our unbiased attention, we shall see that the discrepancy vanishes. For the two men are not in one another's way in virtue of the agreement of their natures, that is, through both loving the same thing, but in virtue of one differing from the other. For, in so far as each loves the same thing, the love of each is fostered thereby (III. xxxi.), that is (Def. of the Emotions, vi.) the pleasure of each is fostered thereby. Wherefore it is far from being the case, that they are at variance through both loving the same thing, and through the agreement in their natures. The cause for their opposition lies, as I have said, solely in the fact that they are assumed to differ. For we assume that Peter has the idea of the loved object as already in his possession, while Paul has the idea of the loved object as lost. Hence the one man will be affected with pleasure, the other will be affected with pain, and thus they will be at variance one with another. We can easily show in like manner, that all other causes of hatred depend solely on differences, and not on the agreement between men's natures.

Note.—I said that Paul might hate Peter because he thinks Peter has something that Paul also wants. At first glance, it seems to follow that since both men want the same thing, and their natures align, they would get in each other's way. If this were true, then Props. xxx. and xxxi. of this part would be wrong. However, if we take a closer look, we’ll see that the conflict disappears. The two men don't block each other because they share the same interests; instead, it's because they’re different from each other. As much as they both desire the same thing, each of their loves is actually supported by that shared desire (III. xxxi.), meaning (Def. of the Emotions, vi.) each finds pleasure in it. Thus, it's not accurate to say they oppose each other simply because they both love the same thing or have similar natures. The real source of their conflict lies in their assumed differences. We assume that Peter thinks of what they both love as something he already has, while Paul sees it as something he has lost. As a result, one man will feel pleasure while the other feels pain, creating their discord. We can easily demonstrate that all other reasons for hatred stem from differences, not from similarities in human nature.

PROP. XXXV. In so far only as men live in obedience to reason, do they always necessarily agree in nature.

PROP. XXXV. Only to the extent that people follow reason do they necessarily align in nature.

Proof.—In so far as men are assailed by emotions that are passions, they can be different in nature (IV. xxxiii.), and at variance one with another. But men are only said to be active, in so far as they act in obedience to reason (III. iii.); therefore, what so ever follows from human nature in so far as it is defined by reason must (III. Def. ii.) be understood solely through human nature as its proximate cause. But, since every man by the laws of his nature desires that which he deems good, and endeavours to remove that which he deems bad (IV. xix.); and further, since that which we, in accordance with reason, deem good or bad, necessarily is good or bad (II. xli.); it follows that men, in so far as they live in obedience to reason, necessarily do only such things as are necessarily good for human nature, and consequently for each individual man (IV. xxxi. Coroll.); in other words, such things as are in harmony with each man's nature. Therefore, men in so far as they live in obedience to reason, necessarily live always in harmony one with another. Q.E.D.

Proof.—As long as people are affected by emotions that are passions, those emotions can be different in nature (IV. xxxiii.) and can conflict with each other. However, people are only considered active when they act according to reason (III. iii.); therefore, everything that arises from human nature, as understood through reason, must (III. Def. ii.) be seen as stemming solely from human nature as its immediate cause. Since every person, by the laws of their nature, desires what they consider good and tries to eliminate what they see as bad (IV. xix.); and since what we, in line with reason, consider good or bad, truly is good or bad (II. xli.); it follows that people, in so far as they live according to reason, can only do things that are inherently good for human nature, and therefore for each individual (IV. xxxi. Coroll.). In other words, they can only act in ways that align with each person's nature. Thus, people, insofar as they live according to reason, inevitably live in harmony with each other. Q.E.D.

Corollary I.—There is no individual thing in nature, which is more useful to man, than a man who lives in obedience to reason. For that thing is to man most useful, which is most in harmony with his nature (IV. xxxi. Coroll.); that is, obviously, man. But man acts absolutely according to the laws of his nature, when he lives in obedience to reason (III. Def. ii.), and to this extent only is always necessarily in harmony with the nature of another man (by the last Prop.); wherefore among individual things nothing is more useful to man, than a man who lives in obedience to reason. Q.E.D.

Corollary I.—There is nothing in nature more valuable to a person than another person who lives according to reason. The thing that is most helpful to a person is what aligns best with their nature (IV. xxxi. Coroll.); this is, of course, another person. A person acts fully in line with their nature when they live by reason (III. Def. ii.), and only in this way are they consistently in harmony with the nature of others (as shown in the last proposition); therefore, among individual things, nothing is more beneficial to a person than another person who lives in obedience to reason. Q.E.D.

Corollary II.—As every man seeks most that which is useful to him, so are men most useful one to another. For the more a man seeks what is useful to him and endeavours to preserve himself, the more is he endowed with virtue (IV. xx.), or, what is the same thing (IV. Def. viii.), the more is he endowed with power to act according to the laws of his own nature, that is to live in obedience to reason. But men are most in natural harmony, when they live in obedience to reason (by the last Prop.); therefore (by the foregoing Coroll.) men will be most useful one to another, when each seeks most that which is useful to him. Q.E.D.

Corollary II.—Just as everyone looks for what benefits them the most, people are also at their most helpful to each other. The more a person seeks what is beneficial to them and works to protect themselves, the more they are filled with virtue (IV. xx.), or, in other words (IV. Def. viii.), the more capable they are of acting according to the principles of their own nature, which means living in accordance with reason. People are most naturally aligned when they live according to reason (as shown in the last Proposition); therefore (based on the previous Corollary), individuals will be most helpful to one another when each person seeks what is most beneficial to themselves. Q.E.D.

Note.—What we have just shown is attested by experience so conspicuously, that it is in the mouth of nearly everyone: "Man is to man a God." Yet it rarely happens that men live in obedience to reason, for things are so ordered among them, that they are generally envious and troublesome one to another. Nevertheless they are scarcely able to lead a solitary life, so that the definition of man as a social animal has met with general assent; in fact, men do derive from social life much more convenience than injury. Let satirists then laugh their fill at human affairs, let theologians rail, and let misanthropes praise to their utmost the life of untutored rusticity, let them heap contempt on men and praises on beasts; when all is said, they will find that men can provide for their wants much more easily by mutual help, and that only by uniting their forces can they escape from the dangers that on every side beset them: not to say how much more excellent and worthy of our knowledge it is, to study the actions of men than the actions of beasts. But I will treat of this more at length elsewhere.

Note.—What we’ve just shown is so clearly proven by experience that it's something almost everyone knows: "Man is a God to man." Yet it’s rare for people to live according to reason, as they often become envious and troublesome toward one another. Still, they struggle to live alone, which is why the idea of man as a social animal is widely accepted; in reality, people gain much more benefit than harm from social life. Let satirists mock human behavior, let theologians criticize, and let misanthropes extol the virtues of unrefined rural life, pouring scorn on humanity and praise on animals; in the end, they’ll find that people can meet their needs much more easily through mutual support, and that only by coming together can they escape the dangers that surround them. Not to mention, it’s far more interesting and worthwhile to study human actions than animal behaviors. But I’ll discuss this in more detail elsewhere.

PROP. XXXVI. The highest good of those who follow virtue is common to all, and therefore all can equally rejoice therein.

PROP. XXXVI. The highest good for those who pursue virtue is shared by everyone, so everyone can equally take joy in it.

Proof.—To act virtuously is to act in obedience with reason (IV. xxiv.), and whatsoever we endeavour to do in obedience to reason is to understand (IV. xxvi.); therefore (IV. xxviii.) the highest good for those who follow after virtue is to know God; that is (II. xlvii. and note) a good which is common to all and can be possessed by all men equally, in so far as they are of the same nature. Q.E.D.

Proof.—To act virtuosly means to act in accordance with reason (IV. xxiv.), and everything we try to do in line with reason is about understanding (IV. xxvi.); therefore (IV. xxviii.), the greatest good for those who pursue virtue is to know God; this is (II. xlvii. and note) a good that is shared by everyone and can be enjoyed equally by all people, as far as they share the same nature. Q.E.D.

Note.—Someone may ask how it would be, if the highest good of those who follow after virtue were not common to all? Would it not then follow, as above (IV. xxxiv.), that men living in obedience to reason, that is (IV. xxxv.), men in so far as they agree in nature, would be at variance one with another? To such an inquiry, I make answer, that it follows not accidentally but from the very nature of reason, that main's highest good is common to all, inasmuch as it is deduced from the very essence of man, in so far as defined by reason; and that a man could neither be, nor be conceived without the power of taking pleasure in this highest good. For it belongs to the essence of the human mind (II. xlvii.), to have an adequate knowledge of the eternal and infinite essence of God.

Note.—Someone may wonder what it would be like if the highest good for those pursuing virtue wasn't shared by everyone. Would it then imply, as mentioned earlier (IV. xxxiv.), that people living according to reason, that is (IV. xxxv.), people who are aligned by nature, would conflict with one another? In response to this question, I assert that it is not a coincidence, but rather inherent to the nature of reason, that humanity's highest good is common to all because it is derived from the very essence of what it means to be human, as defined by reason; and that a person could neither exist nor be understood without the ability to derive pleasure from this highest good. For it is part of the essence of the human mind (II. xlvii.) to have a clear understanding of the eternal and infinite nature of God.

PROP. XXXVII. The good which every man, who follows after virtue, desires for himself he will also desire for other men, and so much the more, in proportion as he has a greater knowledge of God.

PROP. XXXVII. The good that every person seeking virtue wants for themselves, they will also want for others, and even more so as their understanding of God grows.

Proof.—Men, in so far as they live in obedience to reason, are most useful to their fellow men (IV. xxxv; Coroll. i.); therefore (IV. xix.), we shall in obedience to reason necessarily endeavour to bring about that men should live in obedience to reason. But the good which every man, in so far as he is guided by reason, or, in other words, follows after virtue, desires for himself, is to understand (IV. xxvi.); wherefore the good, which each follower of virtue seeks for himself, he will desire also for others. Again, desire, in so far as it is referred to the mind, is the very essence of the mind (Def. of the Emotions, i.); now the essence of the mind consists in knowledge (II. xi.), which involves the knowledge of God (II. xlvii.), and without it (I. xv.), can neither be, nor be conceived; therefore, in proportion as the mind's essence involves a greater knowledge of God, so also will be greater the desire of the follower of virtue, that other men should possess that which he seeks as good for himself. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Men, as long as they live by reason, are the most beneficial to their fellow humans; therefore, we must strive to ensure that people live by reason as well. The good that each person, guided by reason or virtue, desires for themselves is understanding; thus, the good that each virtuous person seeks for themselves, they will also want for others. Furthermore, desire, as it relates to the mind, is the very essence of the mind; now, the essence of the mind is knowledge, which includes the knowledge of God, and without it, one cannot exist or be conceived. Therefore, as the mind's essence embodies a greater knowledge of God, the desire of the virtuous person will also grow for others to have what they strive for as good for themselves. Q.E.D.

Another Proof.—The good, which a man desires for himself and loves, he will love more constantly, if he sees that others love it also (III. xxxi.); he will therefore endeavour that others should love it also; and as the good in question is common to all, and therefore all can rejoice therein, he will endeavour, for the same reason, to bring about that all should rejoice therein, and this he will do the more (III. xxxvii.), in proportion as his own enjoyment of the good is greater.

Another Proof.—The things a person wants for themselves and values, they will appreciate even more consistently if they notice that others value them too (III. xxxi.); therefore, they will try to get others to value those things as well. Since the good in question is something everyone can share in and enjoy, they will also strive to ensure that everyone can take part in that joy. This effort will increase as their own enjoyment of the good grows (III. xxxvii.).

Note I.—He who, guided by emotion only, endeavours to cause others to love what he loves himself, and to make the rest of the world live according to his own fancy, acts solely by impulse, and is, therefore, hateful, especially, to those who take delight in something different, and accordingly study and, by similar impulse, endeavour, to make men live in accordance with what pleases themselves. Again, as the highest good sought by men under the guidance of emotion is often such, that it can only be possessed by a single individual, it follows that those who love it are not consistent in their intentions, but, while they delight to sing its praises, fear to be believed. But he, who endeavours to lead men by reason, does not act by impulse but courteously and kindly, and his intention is always consistent. Again, whatsoever we desire and do, whereof we are the cause in so far as we possess the idea of God, or know God, I set down to Religion. The desire of well—doing, which is engendered by a life according to reason, I call piety. Further, the desire, whereby a man living according to reason is bound to associate others with himself in friendship, I call honour[13]; by honourable I mean that which is praised by men living according to reason, and by base I mean that which is repugnant to the gaining of friendship. I have also shown in addition what are the foundations of a state; and the difference between true virtue and infirmity may be readily gathered from what I have said; namely, that true virtue is nothing else but living in accordance with reason; while infirmity is nothing else but man's allowing himself to be led by things which are external to himself, and to be by them determined to act in a manner demanded by the general disposition of things rather than by his own nature considered solely in itself.

Note I.—Someone who, driven only by emotion, tries to make others love what they love and wants everyone else to live according to their own preferences acts purely on impulse, and is therefore unpleasant, especially to those who enjoy different things and similarly strive to make others live according to what pleases them. Additionally, since the highest good sought by people under emotional guidance is often something that can only be attained by one individual, those who seek it are inconsistent in their intentions; they may love to sing its praises but fear being believed. On the other hand, someone who tries to guide people through reason does not act impulsively but rather with courtesy and kindness, and their intentions are always consistent. Furthermore, everything we desire and do, for which we are the cause insofar as we have the idea of God or know God, I attribute to Religion. The desire to do good, which arises from living according to reason, I call piety. Moreover, the desire that compels a person living according to reason to connect with others in friendship I call honor; by honorable, I mean what is praised by people living according to reason, and by base, I refer to that which is contrary to forming friendship. I have also demonstrated what the foundations of a state are, and the difference between true virtue and weakness can be easily understood from what I have said: true virtue is nothing but living in accordance with reason, while weakness is simply allowing oneself to be influenced by external things and being compelled to act according to the prevailing nature of things rather than by one's own inherent nature considered alone.

[13] Honestas

Integrity


Such are the matters which I engaged to prove in Prop. xviii. of this Part, whereby it is plain that the law against the slaughtering of animals is founded rather on vain superstition and womanish pity than on sound reason. The rational quest of what is useful to us further teaches us the necessity of associating ourselves with our fellow men, but not with beasts, or things, whose nature is different from our own; we have the same rights in respect to them as they have in respect to us. Nay, as everyone's right is defined by his virtue, or power, men have far greater rights over beasts than beasts have over men. Still I do not deny that beasts feel: what I deny is, that we may not consult our own advantage and use them as we please, treating them in the way which best suits us; for their nature is not like ours, and their emotions are naturally different from human emotions (III. lvii. note). It remains for me to explain what I mean by just and unjust, sin and merit. On these points see the following note.

These are the issues I set out to prove in Prop. xviii. of this Part, which makes it clear that the law against killing animals is based more on empty superstition and sentimental pity than on sound reasoning. The logical search for what benefits us also shows us the need to connect with our fellow humans, not with animals or things that are fundamentally different from us; we have the same rights concerning them as they have concerning us. In fact, since each person's rights are determined by their virtue or power, humans have much greater rights over animals than animals have over humans. However, I do acknowledge that animals have feelings: what I dispute is that we cannot look after our own interests and use them as we see fit, treating them in ways that are most advantageous to us; their nature is not like ours, and their feelings are inherently different from human emotions (III. lvii. note). I still need to clarify what I mean by just and unjust, sin and merit. For more on these topics, see the following note.

Note II.—In the Appendix to Part I. I undertook to explain praise and blame, merit and sin, justice and injustice.

Note II.—In the Appendix to Part I, I explained praise and blame, merit and sin, justice and injustice.

Concerning praise and blame I have spoken in III. xxix. note: the time has now come to treat of the remaining terms. But I must first say a few words concerning man in the state of nature and in society.

Concerning praise and blame, I’ve already discussed in III. xxix. note: now it’s time to address the other terms. But first, I need to say a few words about humans in their natural state and in society.

Every man exists by sovereign natural right, and, consequently, by sovereign natural right performs those actions which follow from the necessity of his own nature; therefore by sovereign natural right every man judges what is good and what is bad, takes care of his own advantage according to his own disposition (IV. xix. and IV. xx.), avenges the wrongs done to him (III. xl. Coroll. ii.), and endeavours to preserve that which he loves and to destroy that which he hates (III. xxviii.). Now, if men lived under the guidance of reason, everyone would remain in possession of this his right, without any injury being done to his neighbour (IV. xxxv. Coroll. i.). But seeing that they are a prey to their emotions, which far surpass human power or virtue (IV. vi.), they are often drawn in different directions, and being at variance one with another (IV. xxxiii. xxxiv.), stand in need of mutual help (IV. xxxv. note). Wherefore, in order that men may live together in harmony, and may aid one another, it is necessary that they should forego their natural right, and, for the sake of security, refrain from all actions which can injure their fellow—men. The way in which this end can be obtained, so that men who are necessarily a prey to their emotions (IV. iv. Coroll.), inconstant, and diverse, should be able to render each other mutually secure, and feel mutual trust, is evident from IV. vii. and III. xxxix. It is there shown, that an emotion can only be restrained by an emotion stronger than, and contrary to itself, and that men avoid inflicting injury through fear of incurring a greater injury themselves.

Every person exists by their inherent natural rights, and because of that, they take actions that come from their own nature; therefore, by their natural rights, everyone determines what is good and bad, looks out for their own interests according to their own preferences (IV. xix. and IV. xx.), seeks to right the wrongs done to them (III. xl. Coroll. ii.), and tries to protect what they love and eliminate what they hate (III. xxviii.). If people lived according to reason, each person would keep their rights without harming others (IV. xxxv. Coroll. i.). However, since they are often overwhelmed by their emotions, which can overpower human strength or goodness (IV. vi.), they frequently pull in different directions, and when in conflict with one another (IV. xxxiii. xxxiv.), they need each other's support (IV. xxxv. note). Thus, for people to coexist peacefully and assist one another, they must give up some of their natural rights and avoid actions that could harm others for the sake of safety. The way to achieve this, so that those who are naturally prone to emotions (IV. iv. Coroll.), changeable, and diverse can ensure each other's safety and build trust, is clear from IV. vii. and III. xxxix. It explains that an emotion can only be controlled by a stronger, opposing emotion, and individuals will avoid causing harm out of fear of facing a greater harm themselves.

On this law society can be established, so long as it keeps in its own hand the right, possessed by everyone, of avenging injury, and pronouncing on good and evil; and provided it also possesses the power to lay down a general rule of conduct, and to pass laws sanctioned, not by reason, which is powerless in restraining emotion, but by threats (IV. xvii. note). Such a society established with laws and the power of preserving itself is called a State, while those who live under its protection are called citizens. We may readily understand that there is in the state of nature nothing, which by universal consent is pronounced good or bad; for in the state of nature everyone thinks solely of his own advantage, and according to his disposition, with reference only to his individual advantage, decides what is good or bad, being bound by no law to anyone besides himself.

On this foundation, society can be built as long as it retains the right that everyone has to seek revenge for wrongs and to judge what is good and evil; and as long as it also has the power to establish a general code of conduct and to create laws that are enforced, not through reason—which is ineffective in controlling emotions—but through threats (IV. xvii. note). Such a society that is formed with laws and the ability to maintain itself is called a State, while those who are protected by it are known as citizens. It is easy to see that in the state of nature, there is nothing that is universally agreed upon as good or bad; because in the state of nature, each person only considers their own benefit and makes decisions about what is good or bad based solely on their personal advantage, without being bound by any law other than their own.

In the state of nature, therefore, sin is inconceivable; it can only exist in a state, where good and evil are pronounced on by common consent, and where everyone is bound to obey the State authority. Sin, then, is nothing else but disobedience, which is therefore punished by the right of the State only. Obedience, on the other hand, is set down as merit, inasmuch as a man is thought worthy of merit, if he takes delight in the advantages which a State provides.

In the state of nature, sin is unimaginable; it can only exist in a society where good and evil are determined by common agreement, and where everyone must follow the authority of the State. Sin is essentially disobedience, which is only punished by the authority of the State. Obedience, on the other hand, is seen as a virtue since a person is considered deserving of praise if they appreciate the benefits that the State offers.

Again, in the state of nature, no one is by common consent master of anything, nor is there anything in nature, which can be said to belong to one man rather than another: all things are common to all. Hence, in the state of nature, we can conceive no wish to render to every man his own, or to deprive a man of that which belongs to him; in other words, there is nothing in the state of nature answering to justice and injustice. Such ideas are only possible in a social state, when it is decreed by common consent what belongs to one man and what to another.

Again, in the natural state, no one is considered the master of anything by mutual agreement, and nothing in nature can be said to belong to one person over another: everything is common to everyone. Therefore, in the state of nature, we cannot imagine a desire to give each person what is theirs or to take away what belongs to someone; in other words, there is nothing in the natural state that corresponds to concepts of justice and injustice. Such ideas only arise in a social setting, where it is agreed upon by everyone what belongs to one person and what belongs to another.

From all these considerations it is evident, that justice and injustice, sin and merit, are extrinsic ideas, and not attributes which display the nature of the mind. But I have said enough.

From all these considerations, it’s clear that concepts like justice and injustice, sin and merit, are external ideas and not qualities that reflect the nature of the mind. But I’ve said enough.

PROP. XXXVIII. Whatsoever disposes the human body, so as to render it capable of being affected in an increased number of ways, or of affecting external bodies in an increased number of ways, is useful to man; and is so, in proportion as the body is thereby rendered more capable of being affected or affecting other bodies in an increased number of ways; contrariwise, whatsoever renders the body less capable in this respect is hurtful to man.

PROP. XXXVIII. Anything that changes the human body so that it can be affected in more ways or can affect other things in more ways is beneficial to people; and it is beneficial to the extent that the body becomes more capable of being affected or affecting other things in additional ways. Conversely, anything that makes the body less capable in this regard is harmful to people.

Proof.—Whatsoever thus increases the capabilities of the body increases also the mind's capability of perception (II. xiv.); therefore, whatsoever thus disposes the body and thus renders it capable, is necessarily good or useful (IV. xxvi. xxvii.); and is so in proportion to the extent to which it can render the body capable; contrariwise (II. xiv., IV. xxvi. xxvii.), it is hurtful, if it renders the body in this respect less capable. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Anything that enhances the body's abilities also boosts the mind's ability to perceive (II. xiv.); therefore, anything that properly prepares the body and makes it capable is inherently good or useful (IV. xxvi. xxvii.); and this is true in proportion to how much it can enhance the body's capabilities; on the other hand (II. xiv., IV. xxvi. xxvii.), it is harmful if it makes the body less capable in this regard. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXXIX. Whatsoever brings about the preservation of the proportion of motion and rest, which the parts of the human body mutually possess, is good; contrariwise, whatsoever causes a change in such proportion is bad.

PROP. XXXIX. Anything that helps maintain the balance of motion and rest among the parts of the human body is good; conversely, anything that disrupts that balance is bad.

Proof.—The human body needs many other bodies for its preservation (II. Post. iv.). But that which constitutes the specific reality (forma) of a human body is, that its parts communicate their several motions one to another in a certain fixed proportion (Def. before Lemma iv. after II. xiii.). Therefore, whatsoever brings about the preservation of the proportion between motion and rest, which the parts of the human body mutually possess, preserves the specific reality of the human body, and consequently renders the human body capable of being affected in many ways and of affecting external bodies in many ways; consequently it is good (by the last Prop.). Again, whatsoever brings about a change in the aforesaid proportion causes the human body to assume another specific character, in other words (see Preface to this Part towards the end, though the point is indeed self—evident), to be destroyed, and consequently totally incapable of being affected in an increased numbers of ways; therefore it is bad. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The human body relies on many other bodies for its survival (II. Post. iv.). However, what defines the unique reality (forma) of a human body is that its parts share their various movements with each other in a specific fixed ratio (Def. before Lemma iv. after II. xiii.). Therefore, anything that maintains the balance between motion and rest, which the parts of the human body share, preserves the specific reality of the human body, making it capable of being influenced in various ways and of influencing external bodies in multiple ways; thus, it is good (according to the last Prop.). On the other hand, anything that alters this balance causes the human body to take on a different specific character; in other words (see Preface to this Part towards the end, although this point is quite obvious), it leads to destruction, making it completely unable to be affected in an increased number of ways; therefore, it is bad. Q.E.D.

Note.—The extent to which such causes can injure or be of service to the mind will be explained in the Fifth Part. But I would here remark that I consider that a body undergoes death, when the proportion of motion and rest which obtained mutually among its several parts is changed. For I do not venture to deny that a human body, while keeping the circulation of the blood and other properties, wherein the life of a body is thought to consist, may none the less be changed into another nature totally different from its own. There is no reason, which compels me to maintain that a body does not die, unless it becomes a corpse; nay, experience would seem to point to the opposite conclusion. It sometimes happens, that a man undergoes such changes, that I should hardly call him the same. As I have heard tell of a certain Spanish poet, who had been seized with sickness, and though he recovered therefrom yet remained so oblivious of his past life, that he would not believe the plays and tragedies he had written to be his own: indeed, he might have been taken for a grown—up child, if he had also forgotten his native tongue. If this instance seems incredible, what shall we say of infants? A man of ripe age deems their nature so unlike his own, that he can only be persuaded that he too has been an infant by the analogy of other men. However, I prefer to leave such questions undiscussed, lest I should give ground to the superstitious for raising new issues.

Note.—The extent to which such causes can harm or help the mind will be explained in the Fifth Part. But I want to point out that I believe a body experiences death when the balance of motion and rest among its various parts changes. I can't deny that a human body, while maintaining blood circulation and other characteristics that are thought to signify life, can still be transformed into something entirely different from what it was. There's no reason for me to insist that a body doesn’t die unless it becomes a corpse; in fact, experience seems to suggest the opposite. Sometimes, a person goes through changes that make it hard for me to say he’s still the same person. I've heard of a certain Spanish poet who became ill, and though he recovered, he remained so forgetful of his past life that he couldn't believe the plays and tragedies he had written were his own: indeed, he could have been mistaken for a grown child if he had also forgotten his native language. If this example seems unbelievable, what can we say about infants? A fully grown person considers their nature so different that they can only be convinced they were once infants by observing other people. However, I prefer to leave such questions alone, so I don’t give superstitious people reason to raise new issues.

PROP. XL. Whatsoever conduces to man's social life, or causes men to live together in harmony, is useful, whereas whatsoever brings discord into a State is bad.

PROP. XL. Anything that contributes to human social life or helps people live together in harmony is beneficial, while anything that brings conflict into a community is harmful.

Proof.—For whatsoever causes men to live together in harmony also causes them to live according to reason (IV. xxxv.), and is therefore (IV. xxvi. xxvii.) good, and (for the same reason) whatsoever brings about discord is bad. Q.E.D.

Proof.—For whatever reasons people live together in harmony also leads them to live according to reason (IV. xxxv.), and is therefore (IV. xxvi. xxvii.) good, and (for the same reason) whatever creates discord is bad. Q.E.D.

PROP. XLI. Pleasure in itself is not bad but good: contrariwise, pain in itself is bad.

PROP. XLI. Pleasure in itself is good, while pain in itself is bad.

Proof.—Pleasure (III. xi. and note) is emotion, whereby the body's power of activity is increased or helped; pain is emotion, whereby the body's power of activity is diminished or checked; therefore (IV. xxxviii.) pleasure in itself is good, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Pleasure (III. xi. and note) is an emotion that boosts or enhances the body's ability to act; pain is an emotion that reduces or limits the body's ability to act; therefore (IV. xxxviii.) pleasure is inherently good, etc. Q.E.D.

PROP. XLII. Mirth cannot be excessive, but is always good; contrariwise, Melancholy is always bad.

PROP. XLII. Joy can't be too much; it's always a good thing; on the other hand, sadness is always bad.

Proof.—Mirth (see its Def. in III. xi. note) is pleasure, which, in so far as it is referred to the body, consists in all parts of the body being affected equally: that is (III. xi.), the body's power of activity is increased or aided in such a manner, that the several parts maintain their former proportion of motion and rest; therefore Mirth is always good (IV. xxxix.), and cannot be excessive. But Melancholy (see its Def. in the same note to III. xi.) is pain, which, in so far as it is referred to the body, consists in the absolute decrease or hindrance of the body's power of activity; therefore (IV. xxxviii.) it is always bad. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Mirth (see its definition in III. xi. note) is pleasure, which, as it relates to the body, occurs when all parts of the body are equally affected: that is (III. xi.), the body's ability to act is increased or supported in such a way that the various parts keep their usual balance of movement and stillness; therefore, Mirth is always good (IV. xxxix.) and cannot be excessive. But Melancholy (see its definition in the same note to III. xi.) is pain, which, as it relates to the body, involves a complete reduction or obstruction of the body's ability to function; therefore (IV. xxxviii.) it is always bad. Q.E.D.

PROP. XLIII. Stimulation may be excessive and bad; on the other hand, grief may be good, in so far as stimulation or pleasure is bad.

PROP. XLIII. Too much stimulation can be harmful; conversely, grief can be beneficial when stimulation or pleasure is detrimental.

Proof.—Localized pleasure or stimulation (titillatio) is pleasure, which, in so far as it is referred to the body, consists in one or some of its parts being affected more than the rest (see its Definition, III. xi. note); the power of this emotion may be sufficient to overcome other actions of the body (IV. vi.), and may remain obstinately fixed therein, thus rendering it incapable of being affected in a variety of other ways: therefore (IV. xxxviii.) it may be bad. Again, grief, which is pain, cannot as such be good (IV. xli.). But, as its force and increase is defined by the power of an external cause compared with our own (IV. v.), we can conceive infinite degrees and modes of strength in this emotion (IV. iii.); we can, therefore, conceive it as capable of restraining stimulation, and preventing its becoming excessive, and hindering the body's capabilities; thus, to this extent, it will be good. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Localized pleasure or stimulation (titillatio) is pleasure that, in relation to the body, happens when one or more of its parts is affected more than the others (see its Definition, III. xi. note); the intensity of this emotion can be strong enough to overpower other bodily actions (IV. vi.), and it may remain stubbornly fixed, making it unable to respond in other ways: thus (IV. xxxviii.) it can be negative. Similarly, grief, which is pain, cannot be considered good in itself (IV. xli.). However, since its intensity and growth are determined by the impact of an external cause compared to our own (IV. v.), we can imagine an endless range of strengths and ways this emotion manifests (IV. iii.); therefore, we can see it as capable of limiting stimulation, preventing it from becoming too much, and restraining the body’s abilities; thus, to that extent, it can be good. Q.E.D.

PROP. XLIV. Love and desire may be excessive.

PROP. XLIV. Love and desire can become excessive.

Proof.—Love is pleasure, accompanied by the idea of an external cause (Def. of Emotions, vi.); therefore stimulation, accompanied by the idea of an external cause is love (III. xi. note); hence love maybe excessive. Again, the strength of desire varies in proportion to the emotion from which it arises (III. xxxvii.). Now emotion may overcome all the rest of men's actions (IV. vi.); so, therefore, can desire, which arises from the same emotion, overcome all other desires, and become excessive, as we showed in the last proposition concerning stimulation.

Proof.—Love is a feeling of pleasure linked to the thought of an outside cause (Def. of Emotions, vi.); therefore, stimulation paired with the thought of an outside cause is love (III. xi. note); hence love can be excessive. Also, the intensity of desire changes based on the emotion it comes from (III. xxxvii.). Emotion can dominate all of a person's actions (IV. vi.); therefore, desire, which comes from the same emotion, can overpower all other desires and become excessive, as we demonstrated in the previous proposition about stimulation.

Note.—Mirth, which I have stated to be good, can be conceived more easily than it can be observed. For the emotions, whereby we are daily assailed, are generally referred to some part of the body which is affected more than the rest; hence the emotions are generally excessive, and so fix the mind in the contemplation of one object, that it is unable to think of others; and although men, as a rule, are a prey to many emotions—and very few are found who are always assailed by one and the same—yet there are cases, where one and the same emotion remains obstinately fixed. We sometimes see men so absorbed in one object, that, although it be not present, they think they have it before them; when this is the case with a man who is not asleep, we say he is delirious or mad; nor are those persons who are inflamed with love, and who dream all night and all day about nothing but their mistress, or some woman, considered as less mad, for they are made objects of ridicule. But when a miser thinks of nothing but gain or money, or when an ambitious man thinks of nothing but glory, they are not reckoned to be mad, because they are generally harmful, and are thought worthy of being hated. But, in reality, Avarice, Ambition, Lust, &c., are species of madness, though they may not be reckoned among diseases.

Note.—Joy, which I've mentioned as being good, is easier to imagine than to experience. The emotions that hit us daily are usually connected to a specific part of the body that feels it more intensely; as a result, these emotions can be overwhelming and focus the mind on a single object, making it difficult to think of anything else. Although people typically experience many emotions—and very few are constantly troubled by just one—there are situations where a single emotion stubbornly takes hold. Sometimes we see people so engrossed in one thing that even when it’s not in front of them, they believe they have it right there; when this happens to someone who isn't asleep, we call it delirium or madness. And those who are consumed by love, dreaming day and night about their sweetheart, are often seen as just as crazy and are subject to ridicule. However, when a miser thinks only about wealth or when an ambitious person fixates solely on fame, they aren’t labeled as mad because they typically cause harm and are viewed as deserving of scorn. In truth, greed, ambition, lust, etc., are types of madness, even though they might not be classified as diseases.

PROP. XLV. Hatred can never be good.

PROP. XLV. Hatred is never a good thing.

Proof.—When we hate a man, we endeavour to destroy him (III. xxxix.), that is (IV. xxxvii.), we endeavour to do something that is bad. Therefore, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—When we hate someone, we try to destroy them (III. xxxix.), which means (IV. xxxvii.), we try to do something that is wrong. Therefore, &c. Q.E.D.

N.B. Here, and in what follows, I mean by hatred only hatred towards men.

N.B. Here, and in what follows, I mean by hatred only hatred towards people.

Corollary I.—Envy, derision, contempt, anger, revenge, and other emotions attributable to hatred, or arising therefrom, are bad; this is evident from III. xxxix. and IV. xxxvii.

Corollary I.—Envy, mockery, disdain, anger, revenge, and other feelings related to hatred, or stemming from it, are negative; this is clear from III. xxxix. and IV. xxxvii.

Corollary II.—Whatsoever we desire from motives of hatred is base, and in a State unjust. This also is evident from III. xxxix., and from the definitions of baseness and injustice in IV. xxxvii. note.

Corollary II.—Any desire driven by hatred is low and unjust in a State. This is also clear from III. xxxix. and from the definitions of lowliness and injustice in IV. xxxvii. note.

Note.—Between derision (which I have in Coroll. I. stated to be bad) and laughter I recognize a great difference. For laughter, as also jocularity, is merely pleasure; therefore, so long as it be not excessive, it is in itself good (IV. xli.). Assuredly nothing forbids man to enjoy himself, save grim and gloomy superstition. For why is it more lawful to satiate one's hunger and thirst than to drive away one's melancholy? I reason, and have convinced myself as follows: No deity, nor anyone else, save the envious, takes pleasure in my infirmity and discomfort, nor sets down to my virtue the tears, sobs, fear, and the like, which axe signs of infirmity of spirit; on the contrary, the greater the pleasure wherewith we are affected, the greater the perfection whereto we pass; in other words, the more must we necessarily partake of the divine nature. Therefore, to make use of what comes in our way, and to enjoy it as much as possible (not to the point of satiety, for that would not be enjoyment) is the part of a wise man. I say it is the part of a wise man to refresh and recreate himself with moderate and pleasant food and drink, and also with perfumes, with the soft beauty of growing plants, with dress, with music, with many sports, with theatres, and the like, such as every man may make use of without injury to his neighbour. For the human body is composed of very numerous parts, of diverse nature, which continually stand in need of fresh and varied nourishment, so that the whole body may be equally capable of performing all the actions, which follow from the necessity of its own nature; and, consequently, so that the mind may also be equally capable of understanding many things simultaneously. This way of life, then, agrees best with our principles, and also with general practice; therefore, if there be any question of another plan, the plan we have mentioned is the best, and in every way to be commended. There is no need for me to set forth the matter more clearly or in more detail.

Note.—I recognize a significant difference between derision (which I’ve stated in Coroll. I. is bad) and laughter. Laughter, like joking, is simply a form of pleasure; therefore, as long as it’s not excessive, it is inherently good (IV. xli.). Nothing stops a person from enjoying themselves except for harsh and gloomy superstitions. Why is it more acceptable to satisfy one’s hunger and thirst than to lift one’s spirits? I reason, and have convinced myself, as follows: No deity, nor anyone else, except the envious, takes pleasure in my suffering and discomfort, nor do they associate my tears, sobs, fears, and other signs of spiritual struggle with my virtue; on the contrary, the greater the pleasure we experience, the closer we get to perfection. In other words, the more we connect with the divine nature. Therefore, it is wise to take advantage of what comes our way and enjoy it to the fullest (not to the point of excess, as that wouldn’t be enjoyment). I believe it is wise to refresh and rejuvenate oneself with moderate and enjoyable food and drink, as well as with scents, the gentle beauty of growing plants, clothing, music, various games, theaters, and similar pursuits that anyone can enjoy without harming others. The human body is made up of many parts, each with different needs, that always require fresh and varied nourishment so that the whole body can perform all the actions necessary for its nature; consequently, the mind can also understand many things at once. This way of life aligns with our principles and general practice; therefore, if there’s a question of an alternative approach, the one we’ve mentioned is the best and deserves praise. I don’t need to elaborate further.

PROP. XLVI. He, who lives under the guidance of reason, endeavours, as far as possible, to render back love, or kindness, for other men's hatred, anger, contempt, &c., towards him.

PROP. XLVI. A person who lives guided by reason tries, as much as they can, to return love or kindness in response to others' hatred, anger, contempt, etc., directed at them.

Proof.—All emotions of hatred are bad (IV. xlv. Coroll. i.); therefore he who lives under the guidance of reason will endeavour, as far as possible, to avoid being assailed by such emotions (IV. xix.); consequently, he will also endeavour to prevent others being so assailed (IV. xxxvii.). But hatred is increased by being reciprocated, and can be quenched by love (III. xliii.), so that hatred may pass into love (III. xliv.); therefore he who lives under the guidance of reason will endeavour to repay hatred with love, that is, with kindness. Q.E.D.

Proof.—All feelings of hatred are harmful (IV. xlv. Coroll. i.); therefore, a person guided by reason will try, as much as possible, to steer clear of such feelings (IV. xix.); consequently, they will also try to prevent others from experiencing them (IV. xxxvii.). However, hatred grows when it’s returned, and it can be extinguished by love (III. xliii.), meaning that hatred can transform into love (III. xliv.); thus, someone who lives by reason will aim to respond to hatred with love, which means showing kindness. Q.E.D.

Note.—He who chooses to avenge wrongs with hatred is assuredly wretched. But he, who strives to conquer hatred with love, fights his battle in joy and confidence; he withstands many as easily as one, and has very little need of fortune's aid. Those whom he vanquishes yield joyfully, not through failure, but through increase in their powers; all these consequences follow so plainly from the mere definitions of love and understanding, that I have no need to prove them in detail.

Note.—Those who choose to respond to wrongs with hatred are undoubtedly miserable. But those who work to overcome hatred with love engage in their struggle with joy and confidence; they face many challenges as easily as one, and they rely very little on luck. Those they defeat surrender happily, not out of failure, but because their own abilities have grown; all these outcomes are so clear from the basic meanings of love and understanding that I don't need to explain them in detail.

PROP. XLVII. Emotions of hope and fear cannot be in themselves good.

PROP. XLVII. Emotions like hope and fear can't be inherently good.

Proof.—Emotions of hope and fear cannot exist without pain. For fear is pain (Def. of the Emotions, xiii.), and hope (Def. of the Emotions, Explanation xii. and xiii.) cannot exist without fear; therefore (IV. xli.) these emotions cannot be good in themselves, but only in so far as they can restrain excessive pleasure (IV. xliii.). Q.E.D.

Proof.—Feelings of hope and fear can't exist without pain. Fear is a type of pain (Def. of the Emotions, xiii.), and hope (Def. of the Emotions, Explanation xii. and xiii.) can't exist without fear; therefore (IV. xli.) these emotions aren't good by themselves, but only to the extent that they can limit excessive pleasure (IV. xliii.). Q.E.D.

Note.—We may add, that these emotions show defective knowledge and an absence of power in the mind; for the same reason confidence, despair, joy, and disappointment are signs of a want of mental power. For although confidence and joy are pleasurable emotions, they nevertheless imply a preceding pain, namely, hope and fear. Wherefore the more we endeavour to be guided by reason, the less do we depend on hope; we endeavour to free ourselves from fear, and, as far as we can, to dominate fortune, directing our actions by the sure counsels of wisdom.

Note.—We should add that these emotions reflect a lack of understanding and a weakness in the mind; similarly, confidence, despair, joy, and disappointment indicate a deficiency in mental strength. Even though confidence and joy are positive emotions, they still imply some previous pain, specifically hope and fear. Therefore, the more we strive to be guided by reason, the less we rely on hope; we work to free ourselves from fear and, as much as possible, to control our fate, directing our actions through the reliable advice of wisdom.

PROP. XLVIII. The emotions of over—esteem and disparagement are always bad.

PROP. XLVIII. The feelings of excessive admiration and criticism are always negative.

Proof.—These emotions (see Def. of the Emotions, xxi. xxii.) are repugnant to reason; and are therefore (IV. xxvi. xxvii.) bad. Q.E.D.

Proof.—These emotions (see Def. of the Emotions, xxi. xxii.) are contrary to reason; and are therefore (IV. xxvi. xxvii.) negative. Q.E.D.

PROP. XLIX. Over—esteem is apt to render its object proud.

PROP. XLIX. Excessive admiration can lead to pride in its subject.

Proof.—If we see that any one rates us too highly, for love's sake, we are apt to become elated (III. xli.), or to be pleasurably affected (Def. of the Emotions, xxx.); the good which we hear of ourselves we readily believe (III. xxv.); and therefore, for love's sake, rate ourselves too highly; in other words, we are apt to become proud. Q.E.D.

Proof.—If we notice that someone thinks very highly of us, out of love, we tend to feel uplifted (III. xli.), or to feel good about it (Def. of the Emotions, xxx.); we easily believe the good things we hear about ourselves (III. xxv.); and so, out of love, we often think too highly of ourselves; in other words, we tend to become proud. Q.E.D.

PROP. L. Pity, in a man who lives under the guidance of reason, is in itself bad and useless.

PROP. L. Pity, in a person who lives by reason, is inherently harmful and worthless.

Proof.—Pity (Def. of the Emotions, xviii.) is a pain, and therefore (IV. xli.) is in itself bad. The good effect which follows, namely, our endeavour to free the object of our pity from misery, is an action which we desire to do solely at the dictation of reason (IV. xxxvii.); only at the dictation of reason are we able to perform any action, which we know for certain to be good (IV. xxvii.); thus, in a man who lives under the guidance of reason, pity in itself is useless and bad. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Pity (Def. of the Emotions, xviii.) is a form of suffering, and so (IV. xli.) is inherently negative. The positive outcome that results, which is our effort to help the object of our pity escape from suffering, is something we want to do only because of reason (IV. xxxvii.); we can only take actions that we know for sure are good (IV. xxvii.) when we are guided by reason; therefore, in a person who follows reason, pity itself is ineffective and harmful. Q.E.D.

Note.—He who rightly realizes, that all things follow from the necessity of the divine nature, and come to pass in accordance with the eternal laws and rules of nature, will not find anything worthy of hatred, derision, or contempt, nor will he bestow pity on anything, but to the utmost extent of human virtue he will endeavour to do well, as the saying is, and to rejoice. We may add, that he, who is easily touched with compassion, and is moved by another's sorrow or tears, often does something which he afterwards regrets; partly because we can never be sure that an action caused by emotion is good, partly because we are easily deceived by false tears. I am in this place expressly speaking of a man living under the guidance of reason. He who is moved to help others neither by reason nor by compassion, is rightly styled inhuman, for (III. xxvii.) he seems unlike a man.

Note.—Whoever truly understands that everything arises from the necessity of the divine nature and happens according to the eternal laws and principles of nature will not find anything deserving of hatred, ridicule, or disdain, nor will they feel pity for anything. Instead, to the highest degree of human virtue, they will strive to do good and rejoice, as the saying goes. Additionally, someone who is easily moved by compassion and affected by another's sorrow or tears often ends up doing something they regret later. This is partly because we can never be sure that an action driven by emotion is truly good and partly because we can easily be misled by false tears. Here, I am specifically referring to a person who is guided by reason. Someone who helps others without the influence of reason or compassion is truly considered inhuman, for they do not seem like a true human at all.

PROP. LI. Approval is not repugnant to reason, but can agree therewith and arise therefrom.

PROP. LI. Approval is not against reason; it can align with it and come from it.

Proof.—Approval is love towards one who has done good to another (Def. of the Emotions, xix.); therefore it may be referred to the mind, in so far as the latter is active (III. lix.), that is (III. iii.), in so far as it understands; therefore, it is in agreement with reason, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Approval is feeling affection for someone who has done something good for another (Def. of the Emotions, xix.); therefore, it can be attributed to the mind, as long as it is active (III. lix.), that is (III. iii.), as long as it comprehends; therefore, it aligns with reason, etc. Q.E.D.

Another Proof.—He, who lives under the guidance of reason, desires for others the good which he seeks for himself (IV. xxxvii.); wherefore from seeing someone doing good to his fellow his own endeavour to do good is aided; in other words, he will feel pleasure (III. xi. note) accompanied by the idea of the benefactor. Therefore he approves of him. Q.E.D.

Another Proof.—A person who lives by reason wants for others the same good they seek for themselves (IV. xxxvii.); thus, when they see someone doing good for others, their own efforts to do good are encouraged. In other words, they will feel joy (III. xi. note) along with the thought of the person doing good. So, they approve of that person. Q.E.D.

Note.—Indignation as we defined it (Def. of the Emotions, xx.) is necessarily evil (IV. xlv.); we may, however, remark that, when the sovereign power for the sake of preserving peace punishes a citizen who has injured another, it should not be said to be indignant with the criminal, for it is not incited by hatred to ruin him, it is led by a sense of duty to punish him.

Note.—Indignation as we defined it (Def. of the Emotions, xx.) is inherently negative (IV. xlv.); however, we should note that when the governing authority punishes a citizen for harming another in order to maintain peace, it shouldn't be considered as being indignant with the offender. This is because it is not driven by a desire to destroy him, but rather by a sense of obligation to hold him accountable.

PROP. LII. Self—approval may arise from reason, and that which arises from reason is the highest possible.

PROP. LII. Self-approval can come from reason, and what comes from reason is the highest form possible.

Proof.—Self—approval is pleasure arising from a man's contemplation of himself and his own power of action (Def. of the Emotions, xxv.). But a man's true power of action or virtue is reason herself (III. iii.), as the said man clearly and distinctly contemplates her (II. xl. xliii.); therefore self—approval arises from reason. Again, when a man is contemplating himself, he only perceived clearly and distinctly or adequately, such things as follow from his power of action (III. Def. ii.), that is (III. iii.), from his power of understanding; therefore in such contemplation alone does the highest possible self—approval arise. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Self-approval is the pleasure that comes from a person's reflection on themselves and their ability to take action (Def. of the Emotions, xxv.). However, a person's true ability to take action or virtue is reason itself (III. iii.), as the person clearly and distinctly reflects on it (II. xl. xliii.); therefore, self-approval comes from reason. Furthermore, when a person is reflecting on themselves, they only perceive clearly, distinctly, or adequately those things that follow from their ability to take action (III. Def. ii.), which means (III. iii.) from their ability to understand; therefore, the highest possible self-approval arises only in such contemplation. Q.E.D.

Note.—Self—approval is in reality the highest object for which we can hope. For (as we showed in IV. xxv.) no one endeavours to preserve his being for the sake of any ulterior object, and, as this approval is more and more fostered and strengthened by praise (III. liii. Coroll.), and on the contrary (III. lv. Coroll.) is more and more disturbed by blame, fame becomes the most powerful of incitements to action, and life under disgrace is almost unendurable.

Note.—Self-approval is truly the highest goal we can strive for. As we discussed in IV. xxv., no one tries to maintain their existence for the sake of some other purpose, and since this approval grows stronger and more supported by praise (III. liii. Coroll.), and conversely is increasingly shaken by criticism (III. lv. Coroll.), recognition becomes the strongest motivator for action, and living in disgrace is nearly unbearable.

PROP. LIII. Humility is not a virtue, or does not arise from reason.

PROP. LIII. Humility is not a virtue, nor does it come from reason.

Proof.—Humility is pain arising from a man's contemplation of his own infirmities (Def. of the Emotions, xxvi.). But, in so far as a man knows himself by true reason, he is assumed to understand his essence, that is, his power (III. vii.). Wherefore, if a man in self—contemplation perceives any infirmity in himself, it is not by virtue of his understanding himself, but (III. lv.) by virtue of his power of activity being checked. But, if we assume that a man perceives his own infirmity by virtue of understanding something stronger than himself, by the knowledge of which he determines his own power of activity, this is the same as saying that we conceive that a man understands himself distinctly (IV. xxvi.), because[14] his power of activity is aided. Wherefore humility, or the pain which arises from a man's contemplation of his own infirmity, does not arise from the contemplation or reason, and is not a virtue but a passion. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Humility is the discomfort that comes from a person reflecting on their own weaknesses (Def. of the Emotions, xxvi.). However, to the extent that someone understands themselves through reason, they are thought to grasp their essence, which is their power (III. vii.). Therefore, if a person, while reflecting on themselves, notices any weakness, it’s not because they truly understand themselves, but (III. lv.) because their ability to act is being hindered. If we assume that a person recognizes their own weakness through understanding something greater than themselves, which helps them gauge their own ability to act, this is akin to saying that we believe a person clearly understands themselves (IV. xxvi.), because their ability to act is supported. Thus, humility, or the discomfort that arises from a person reflecting on their own weakness, does not stem from contemplation or reason, and is not a virtue but a passion. Q.E.D.

[14] Land reads: "Quod ipsius agendi potentia juvatur"—which I have translated above. He suggests as alternative readings to 'quod', 'quo' (= whereby) and 'quodque' (= and that).

[14] Land reads: "Quod ipsius agendi potentia juvatur"—which I have translated above. He offers alternative readings for 'quod': 'quo' (= whereby) and 'quodque' (= and that).


PROP. LIV. Repentance is not a virtue, or does not arise from reason; but he who repents of an action is doubly wretched or infirm.

PROP. LIV. Repentance isn't a virtue, nor does it come from reason; instead, the person who feels regret for an action is twice as miserable or weak.

Proof.—The first part of this proposition is proved like the foregoing one. The second part is proved from the mere definition of the emotion in question (Def. of the Emotions, xxvii.). For the man allows himself to be overcome, first, by evil desires; secondly, by pain.

Proof.—The first part of this proposition is proved like the previous one. The second part is proved from the simple definition of the emotion in question (Def. of the Emotions, xxvii.). For the person allows themselves to be overcome, first, by harmful desires; second, by pain.

Note.—As men seldom live under the guidance of reason, these two emotions, namely, Humility and Repentance, as also Hope and Fear, bring more good than harm; hence, as we must sin, we had better sin in that direction. For, if all men who are a prey to emotion were all equally proud, they would shrink from nothing, and would fear nothing; how then could they be joined and linked together in bonds of union? The crowd plays the tyrant, when it is not in fear; hence we need not wonder that the prophets, who consulted the good, not of a few, but of all, so strenuously commended Humility, Repentance, and Reverence. Indeed those who are a prey to these emotions may be led much more easily than others to live under the guidance of reason, that is, to become free and to enjoy the life of the blessed.

Note.—Since people rarely live by reason, these two feelings—Humility and Repentance, along with Hope and Fear—do more good than harm; therefore, as we are bound to sin, it’s better to sin in that way. If everyone overwhelmed by emotion were equally proud, they would stand against anything and fear nothing; how then could they unite and bond with each other? The crowd becomes tyrannical when it’s not driven by fear; so it’s no surprise that the prophets, who cared about the well-being of not just a few but everyone, strongly advocated for Humility, Repentance, and Reverence. In fact, those who experience these feelings can be more easily guided by reason, which means they can achieve freedom and enjoy a blessed life.

PROP. LV. Extreme pride or dejection indicates extreme ignorance of self.

PROP. LV. Extreme pride or deep sadness shows a total lack of self-awareness.

Proof.—This is evident from Def. of the Emotions, xxviii. and xxix.

Proof.—This is clear from the Definitions of the Emotions, xxviii. and xxix.

PROP. LVI. Extreme pride or dejection indicates extreme infirmity of spirit.

PROP. LVI. Extreme pride or deep sadness shows a severe weakness of character.

Proof.—The first foundation of virtue is self—preservation (IV. xxii. Coroll.) under the guidance of reason (IV. xxiv.). He, therefore, who is ignorant of himself, is ignorant of the foundation of all virtues, and consequently of all virtues. Again, to act virtuously is merely to act under the guidance of reason (IV. xxiv.): now he, that acts under the guidance of reason, must necessarily know that he so acts (II. xliii.). Therefore he who is in extreme ignorance of himself, and consequently of all virtues, acts least in obedience to virtue; in other words (IV. Def. viii.), is most infirm of spirit. Thus extreme pride or dejection indicates extreme infirmity of spirit. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The first principle of virtue is self-preservation (IV. xxii. Coroll.) guided by reason (IV. xxiv.). Therefore, anyone who is unaware of themselves is unaware of the basis of all virtues, and thus lacks all virtues. Furthermore, acting virtuously is simply acting under the guidance of reason (IV. xxiv.): someone who acts according to reason must necessarily be aware that they are doing so (II. xliii.). Therefore, a person who is completely unaware of themselves, and thus of all virtues, acts the least in accordance with virtue; in other words (IV. Def. viii.), they are weakest in spirit. Thus, extreme pride or depression shows extreme weakness of spirit. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Hence it most clearly follows, that the proud and the dejected specially fall a prey to the emotions.

Corollary.—Therefore, it is obvious that both the proud and the downtrodden are especially vulnerable to their emotions.

Note.—Yet dejection can be more easily corrected than pride; for the latter being a pleasurable emotion, and the former a painful emotion, the pleasurable is stronger than the painful (IV. xviii.).

Note.—Yet feeling down can be fixed more easily than being proud; because pride is a pleasurable emotion, while feeling down is a painful one, and pleasure is generally more powerful than pain (IV. xviii.).

PROP. LVII. The proud man delights in the company of flatterers and parasites, but hates the company of the high—minded.

PROP. LVII. The arrogant person enjoys being around yes-men and sycophants, but despises the company of those who are principled.

Proof.—Pride is pleasure arising from a man's over estimation of himself (Def. of the Emotions, xxviii. and vi.); this estimation the proud man will endeavour to foster by all the means in his power (III. xiii. note); he will therefore delight in the company of flatterers and parasites (whose character is too well known to need definition here), and will avoid the company of high—minded men, who value him according to his deserts. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Pride is the satisfaction that comes from someone thinking too highly of themselves (Def. of the Emotions, xxviii. and vi.); this self-assessment is something the proud person will try to enhance by any means possible (III. xiii. note); thus, they will enjoy being around sycophants and hangers-on (whose nature is well understood and doesn’t need further explanation) and will steer clear of individuals with integrity, who see them based on their true worth. Q.E.D.

Note.—It would be too long a task to enumerate here all the evil results of pride, inasmuch as the proud are a prey to all the emotions, though to none of them less than to love and pity. I cannot, however, pass over in silence the fact, that a man may be called proud from his underestimation of other people; and, therefore, pride in this sense may be defined as pleasure arising from the false opinion, whereby a man may consider himself superior to his fellows. The dejection, which is the opposite quality to this sort of pride, may be defined as pain arising from the false opinion, whereby a man may think himself inferior to his fellows. Such being the ease, we can easily see that a proud man is necessarily envious (III. xli. note), and only takes pleasure in the company, who fool his weak mind to the top of his bent, and make him insane instead of merely foolish.

Note.—It would take too long to list all the negative effects of pride since proud people are susceptible to all emotions, especially love and pity. However, I can't ignore the fact that a person may be considered proud if they underestimate others; thus, pride can be defined as the pleasure that comes from the mistaken belief that one is better than others. The opposite of this kind of pride, which is dejection, can be defined as the pain that comes from the false belief that one is worse than others. Given this, it's clear that a proud person is inevitably envious (III. xli. note) and only finds enjoyment in the company of those who indulge their fragile ego and drive them towards madness instead of mere foolishness.

Though dejection is the emotion contrary to pride, yet is the dejected man very near akin to the proud man. For, inasmuch as his pain arises from a comparison between his own infirmity and other men's power or virtue, it will be removed, or, in other words, he will feel pleasure, if his imagination be occupied in contemplating other men's faults; whence arises the proverb, "The unhappy are comforted by finding fellow—sufferers." Contrariwise, he will be the more pained in proportion as he thinks himself inferior to others; hence none are so prone to envy as the dejected, they are specially keen in observing men's actions, with a view to fault—finding rather than correction, in order to reserve their praises for dejection, and to glory therein, though all the time with a dejected air. These effects follow as necessarily from the said emotion, as it follows from the nature of a triangle, that the three angles are equal to two right angles. I have already said that I call these and similar emotions bad, solely in respect to what is useful to man. The laws of nature have regard to nature's general order, whereof man is but a part. I mention this, in passing, lest any should think that I have wished to set forth the faults and irrational deeds of men rather than the nature and properties of things. For, as I said in the preface to the third Part, I regard human emotions and their properties as on the same footing with other natural phenomena. Assuredly human emotions indicate the power and ingenuity, of nature, if not of human nature, quite as fully as other things which we admire, and which we delight to contemplate. But I pass on to note those qualities in the emotions, which bring advantage to man, or inflict injury upon him.

Though feeling down is the opposite of being proud, the person who is downcast is actually quite similar to the proud individual. Their pain comes from comparing their own weaknesses to others' strengths or virtues, and it can be eased—meaning they'll feel pleasure—if they focus on the flaws of others. This is where the saying, "The unhappy find comfort in knowing others suffer too," comes from. On the other hand, the more they think they are inferior to others, the more they suffer. That's why those who are feeling down are often the most envious; they pay close attention to what others do, looking for faults rather than solutions, reserving their praise for things that make them feel low, even if they keep a dejected demeanor. These effects follow as surely from that feeling as it is certain that the angles of a triangle equal two right angles. I've mentioned that I call these emotions negative purely in terms of their usefulness to humans. The laws of nature focus on the overall order of nature, of which humans are just a part. I bring this up to clarify that I don’t intend to highlight human faults and irrational actions instead of discussing the nature and properties of things. As I noted in the preface to the third Part, I see human emotions and their properties as comparable to other natural phenomena. It's clear that human emotions reflect the power and creativity of nature, if not human nature itself, just as well as other things we admire and love to reflect upon. But now, I will point out the qualities in these emotions that can benefit humans or cause them harm.

PROP. LVIII. Honour (gloria) is not repugnant to reason, but may arise therefrom.

PROP. LVIII. Honor is not contradictory to reason; in fact, it can come from it.

Proof.—This is evident from Def. of the Emotions, xxx., and also from the definition of an honourable man (IV. xxxvii. note. i.).

Proof.—This is clear from the definition of the Emotions, xxx., and also from the definition of an honorable person (IV. xxxvii. note. i.).

Note—Empty honour, as it is styled, is self—approval, fostered only by the good opinion of the populace; when this good opinion ceases there ceases also the self—approval, in other words, the highest object of each man's love (IV. lii. note); consequently, he whose honour is rooted in popular approval must, day by day, anxiously strive, act, and scheme in order to retain his reputation. For the populace is variable and inconstant, so that, if a reputation be not kept up, it quickly withers away. Everyone wishes to catch popular applause for himself, and readily represses the fame of others. The object of the strife being estimated as the greatest of all goods, each combatant is seized with a fierce desire to put down his rivals in every possible way, till he who at last comes out victorious is more proud of having done harm to others than of having done good to himself. This sort of honour, then, is really empty, being nothing.

Note—Empty honor, as it’s called, is self-approval, dependent only on what others think; when their opinion fades, so does the self-approval, which is the highest form of love for oneself (IV. lii. note); therefore, anyone whose honor relies on public approval must constantly work, act, and plan to maintain their reputation. The public is changeable and unpredictable, so if you don’t keep up your reputation, it quickly disappears. Everyone wants to earn public praise for themselves and often suppresses the recognition of others. The desire for this recognition is viewed as the ultimate good, leading each competitor to fiercely try to undermine their rivals in every way possible, until the one who ultimately wins is more proud of harming others than of benefiting himself. This kind of honor is, in reality, empty and meaningless.

The points to note concerning shame may easily be inferred from what was said on the subject of mercy and repentance. I will only add that shame, like compassion, though not a virtue, is yet good, in so far as it shows, that the feeler of shame is really imbued with the desire to live honourably; in the same way as suffering is good, as showing that the injured part is not mortified. Therefore, though a man who feels shame is sorrowful, he is yet more perfect than he, who is shameless, and has no desire to live honourably.

The key points about shame can be easily understood from what was mentioned regarding mercy and repentance. I’ll just add that shame, like compassion, may not be a virtue, but it is still positive because it indicates that the person feeling shame genuinely wants to live honorably; similarly, suffering is a good sign because it shows that the injured part is still alive. Thus, even though a person who feels shame is sad, he is still better off than someone who is shameless and has no desire to live honorably.

Such are the points which I undertook to remark upon concerning the emotions of pleasure and pain; as for the desires, they are good or bad according as they spring from good or evil emotions. But all, in so far as they are engendered in us by emotions wherein the mind is passive, are blind (as is evident from what was said in IV. xliv. note), and would be useless, if men could easily, be induced to live by the guidance of reason only, as I will now briefly, show.

These are the points I aimed to discuss regarding the emotions of pleasure and pain; as for desires, they are good or bad depending on whether they arise from positive or negative emotions. However, all of them, as they are created in us by emotions where the mind is not actively engaged, are blind (as I explained in IV. xliv. note) and would be pointless if people could easily be encouraged to live solely by reason, as I will now briefly demonstrate.

PROP. LIX. To all the actions, whereto we are determined by emotion wherein the mind is passive; we can be determined without emotion by reason.

PROP. LIX. For all the actions that we are driven to by emotion when the mind is passive, we can be driven instead by reason without emotion.

Proof.—To act rationally, is nothing else (III. iii. and Def. ii.) but to perform those actions, which follow from the necessity, of our nature considered in itself alone. But pain is bad, in so far as it diminishes or checks the power of action (IV. xli.); wherefore we cannot by pain be determined to any action, which we should be unable to perform under the guidance of reason. Again, pleasure is bad only in so far as it hinders a man's capability for action (IV. xli. xliii.); therefore to this extent we could not be determined by it to any action, which we could not perform under the guidance of reason. Lastly, pleasure, in so far as it is good, is in harmony with reason (for it consists in the fact that a man's capability for action is increased or aided); nor is the mind passive therein, except in so far as a man's power of action is not increased to the extent of affording him an adequate conception of himself and his actions (III. iii., and note).

Proof.—To act rationally is simply to carry out actions that arise from the necessity of our nature considered on its own. However, pain is negative because it reduces or limits our ability to act; therefore, we cannot be driven by pain to perform any action that we wouldn't be able to carry out under reason's guidance. Similarly, pleasure is negative only when it obstructs a person's ability to act; thus, to this extent, we couldn't be influenced by it to carry out any action that we couldn't perform under reason's guidance. Finally, pleasure, insofar as it is good, aligns with reason because it involves enhancing or supporting a person's ability to act. The mind is not passive in this regard, except to the extent that a person's capacity for action is not sufficiently developed to give him an adequate understanding of himself and his actions.

Wherefore, if a man who is pleasurably affected be brought to such a state of perfection, that he gains an adequate conception of himself and his own actions, he will be equally, nay more, capable of those actions, to which he is determined by emotion wherein the mind is passive. But all emotions are attributable to pleasure, to pain, or to desire (Def. of the Emotions, iv. explanation); and desire (Def. of the Emotions, i.) is nothing else but the attempt to act; therefore, to all actions, &c. Q.E.D.

Therefore, if a person who feels pleasure reaches a level of perfection where they have a clear understanding of themselves and their actions, they will be just as, if not more, capable of those actions that are driven by emotions when the mind is passive. However, all emotions can be linked to pleasure, pain, or desire (Def. of the Emotions, iv. explanation); and desire (Def. of the Emotions, i.) is simply the urge to act. Thus, this applies to all actions, etc. Q.E.D.

Another Proof.—A given action is called bad, in so far as it arises from one being affected by hatred or any evil emotion. But no action, considered in itself alone, is either good or bad (as we pointed out in the preface to Pt. IV.), one and the same action being sometimes good, sometimes bad; wherefore to the action which is sometimes bad, or arises from some evil emotion, we may be led by reason (IV. xix.). Q.E.D.

Another Proof.—An action is considered bad if it stems from feelings of hatred or any negative emotion. However, no action, when evaluated on its own, is inherently good or bad (as mentioned in the preface to Pt. IV.); the same action can be seen as good at times and bad at others. Therefore, an action that is sometimes bad, or comes from a negative emotion, can be analyzed by reason (IV. xix.). Q.E.D.

Note.—An example will put this point in a clearer light. The action of striking, in so far as it is considered physically, and in so far as we merely look to the fact that a man raises his arm, clenches his fist, and moves his whole arm violently downwards, is a virtue or excellence which is conceived as proper to the structure of the human body. If, then, a man, moved by anger or hatred, is led to clench his fist or to move his arm, this result takes place (as we showed in Pt. II.), because one and the same action can be associated with various mental images of things; therefore we may be determined to the performance of one and the same action by confused ideas, or by clear and distinct ideas. Hence it is evident that every desire which springs from emotion, wherein the mind is passive, would become useless, if men could be guided by reason. Let us now see why desire which arises from emotion, wherein the mind is passive, is called by us blind.

Note.—An example will clarify this point. The act of striking, when viewed physically, simply involves a person raising their arm, clenching their fist, and forcefully bringing their arm down. This action is seen as a skill or quality that aligns with the human body's structure. So, if someone, driven by anger or hatred, clenches their fist or moves their arm, this happens (as we discussed in Pt. II) because the same action can connect to different mental images; therefore, we can be influenced to perform that same action by unclear ideas or by clear ones. Thus, it's clear that every desire that comes from an emotion, where the mind is passive, would become irrelevant if people could be guided by reason. Now, let’s explore why desires that come from emotions, where the mind is passive, are referred to as blind.

PROP. LX. Desire arising from a pleasure or pain, that is not attributable to the whole body, but only to one or certain parts thereof, is without utility in respect to a man as a whole.

PROP. LX. Desire that comes from a pleasure or pain, which isn't linked to the entire body but only to specific parts of it, is not useful for a person as a whole.

Proof.—Let it be assumed, for instance, that A, a part of a body, is so strengthened by some external cause, that it prevails over the remaining parts (IV. vi.). This part will not endeavour to do away with its own powers, in order that the other parts of the body may perform its office; for this it would be necessary for it to have a force or power of doing away with its own powers, which (III. vi.) is absurd. The said part, and, consequently, the mind also, will endeavour to preserve its condition. Wherefore desire arising from a pleasure of the kind aforesaid has no utility in reference to a man as a whole. If it be assumed, on the other hand, that the part, A, be checked so that the remaining parts prevail, it may be proved in the same manner that desire arising from pain has no utility in respect to a man as a whole. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Let's assume that A, a part of a body, is strengthened by some external factor to the point that it dominates the other parts (IV. vi.). This part will not try to eliminate its own abilities to allow the other parts to do their job; for it would need to have the power to eliminate its own abilities, which (III. vi.) is absurd. The part in question, and thus the mind as well, will try to maintain its state. Therefore, desire arising from a pleasure of this kind has no value concerning a person as a whole. Conversely, if we assume that A is suppressed, allowing the other parts to dominate, we can similarly demonstrate that desire arising from pain has no value regarding a person as a whole. Q.E.D.

Note.—As pleasure is generally (IV. xliv. note) attributed to one part of the body, we generally desire to preserve our being with out taking into consideration our health as a whole: to which it may be added, that the desires which have most hold over us (IV. ix.) take account of the present and not of the future.

Note.—Since pleasure is usually linked to one part of the body, we tend to focus on maintaining our existence without considering our overall health. It should also be noted that the desires that affect us the most tend to prioritize the present rather than the future.

PROP. LXI. Desire which springs from reason cannot be excessive.

PROP. LXI. Desire that comes from reason cannot be excessive.

Proof.—Desire (Def. of the Emotions, i.) considered absolutely is the actual essence of man, in so far as it is conceived as in any way determined to a particular activity by some given modification of itself. Hence desire, which arises from reason, that is (III. iii.), which is engendered in us in so far as we act, is the actual essence or nature of man, in so far as it is conceived as determined to such activities as are adequately conceived through man's essence only (III. Def. ii.). Now, if such desire could be excessive, human nature considered in itself alone would be able to exceed itself, or would be able to do more than it can, a manifest contradiction. Therefore, such desire cannot be excessive. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Desire (Definition of the Emotions, i.) viewed absolutely is the true essence of humans, as it is seen as being directed towards a specific activity due to a certain modification of itself. Therefore, desire, which originates from reason—that is (III. iii.), which develops in us as we act—is the actual essence or nature of humans, as it is understood to be directed towards activities that can be fully understood through human essence alone (III. Def. ii.). Now, if such desire could be excessive, then human nature, considered on its own, would be able to exceed itself or do more than it is capable of, which is obviously contradictory. Therefore, such desire cannot be excessive. Q.E.D.

PROP. LXII. In so far as the mind conceives a thing under the dictates of reason, it is affected equally, whether the idea be of a thing future, past, or present.

PROP. LXII. As far as the mind understands something based on reason, it is affected in the same way, whether the idea relates to something that is future, past, or present.

Proof.—Whatsoever the mind conceives under the guidance of reason, it conceives under the form of eternity or necessity (II. xliv. Coroll. ii.), and is therefore affected with the same certitude (II. xliii. and note). Wherefore, whether the thing be present, past, or future, the mind conceives it under the same necessity and is affected with the same certitude; and whether the idea be of something present, past, or future, it will in all cases be equally true (II. xli.); that is, it will always possess the same properties of an adequate idea (II. Def. iv.); therefore, in so far as the mind conceives things under the dictates of reason, it is affected in the same manner, whether the idea be of a thing future, past, or present. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Whatever the mind imagines with the guidance of reason, it imagines in terms of eternity or necessity (II. xliv. Coroll. ii.), and is therefore influenced with the same certainty (II. xliii. and note). Therefore, whether the thing is present, past, or future, the mind conceptualizes it under the same necessity and is influenced with the same certainty; and regardless of whether the idea pertains to something present, past, or future, it will always be equally true (II. xli.); that is, it will always have the same properties of an adequate idea (II. Def. iv.); thus, as far as the mind conceives things according to the principles of reason, it is affected in the same way, whether the idea is about a future, past, or present thing. Q.E.D.

Note.—If we could possess an adequate knowledge of the duration of things, and could determine by reason their periods of existence, we should contemplate things future with the same emotion as things present; and the mind would desire as though it were present the good which it conceived as future; consequently it would necessarily neglect a lesser good in the present for the sake of a greater good in the future, and would in no wise desire that which is good in the present but a source of evil in the future, as we shall presently show. However, we can have but a very inadequate knowledge of the duration of things (II. xxxi.); and the periods of their existence (II. xliv. note.) we can only determine by imagination, which is not so powerfully affected by the future as by the present. Hence such true knowledge of good and evil as we possess is merely abstract or general, and the judgment which we pass on the order of things and the connection of causes, with a view to determining what is good or bad for us in the present, is rather imaginary than real. Therefore it is nothing wonderful, if the desire arising from such knowledge of good and evil, in so far as it looks on into the future, be more readily checked than the desire of things which are agreeable at the present time. (Cf. IV. xvi.)

Note.—If we had a complete understanding of how long things last and could logically figure out their lifespans, we would look at the future with the same feelings as we do the present; the mind would crave the good it imagines is coming just as if it were happening now; because of this, it would likely overlook a smaller good now for a greater good later, and would not wish for something that is good now but leads to harm in the future, as we will explain shortly. However, our understanding of how long things last is very limited (II. xxxi.); and we can only imagine their lifespans (II. xliv. note.), which is less influenced by the future than by the present. Therefore, the true knowledge of good and evil that we have is mostly abstract or general, and the judgments we make about the order of things and the ties between causes in order to decide what is good or bad for us now are more imagined than real. So it’s not surprising if the desire stemming from such knowledge of good and evil, particularly when anticipating the future, is more easily controlled than the desire for things that are enjoyable right now. (Cf. IV. xvi.)

PROP. LXIII. He who is led by fear, and does good in order to escape evil, is not led by reason.

PROP. LXIII. Someone who acts out of fear and does good to avoid bad outcomes is not following reason.

Proof.—All the emotions which are attributable to the mind as active, or in other words to reason, are emotions of pleasure and desire (III. lix.); therefore, he who is led by fear, and does good in order to escape evil, is not led by reason.

Proof.—All the emotions linked to the mind as active, or in other words to reason, are emotions of pleasure and desire (III. lix.); therefore, someone who is driven by fear and does good to avoid harm is not guided by reason.

Note.—Superstitions persons, who know better how to rail at vice than how to teach virtue, and who strive not to guide men by reason, but so to restrain them that they would rather escape evil than love virtue, have no other aim but to make others as wretched as themselves; wherefore it is nothing wonderful, if they be generally troublesome and odious to their fellow—men.

Note.—Superstitious people, who are better at criticizing vice than teaching virtue, and who don't try to guide others through reason, but instead work to keep them from evil rather than encouraging them to love virtue, have no other goal but to make others as miserable as they are; so, it's no surprise that they are often annoying and repulsive to those around them.

Corollary.—Under desire which springs from reason, we seek good directly, and shun evil indirectly.

Corollary.—When desire comes from reason, we pursue good directly and avoid evil indirectly.

Proof.—Desire which springs from reason can only spring from a pleasurable emotion, wherein the mind is not passive (III. lix.), in other words, from a pleasure which cannot be excessive (IV. lxi.), and not from pain; wherefore this desire springs from the knowledge of good, not of evil (IV. viii.); hence under the guidance of reason we seek good directly and only by implication shun evil. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Desire that comes from reason can only come from a pleasurable emotion, where the mind is engaged (III. lix.), in other words, from a pleasure that isn't excessive (IV. lxi.), and not from pain; therefore, this desire arises from the knowledge of good, not of evil (IV. viii.); thus, under the guidance of reason, we seek good directly and only avoid evil by implication. Q.E.D.

Note.—This Corollary may be illustrated by the example of a sick and a healthy man. The sick man through fear of death eats what he naturally shrinks from, but the healthy man takes pleasure in his food, and thus gets a better enjoyment out of life, than if he were in fear of death, and desired directly to avoid it. So a judge, who condemns a criminal to death, not from hatred or anger but from love of the public well—being, is guided solely by reason.

Note.—This corollary can be illustrated by the example of a sick man and a healthy man. The sick man, out of fear of death, eats what he normally avoids, while the healthy man enjoys his food, which allows him to get more satisfaction out of life than if he were living in fear of death and trying to escape it. Similarly, a judge who sentences a criminal to death, not out of hatred or anger but out of a concern for the public good, is acting solely based on reason.

PROP. LXIV. The knowledge of evil is an inadequate knowledge.

PROP. LXIV. Knowing about evil doesn't really provide complete understanding.

Proof.—The knowledge of evil (IV. viii.) is pain, in so far as we are conscious thereof. Now pain is the transition to a lesser perfection (Def. of the Emotions, iii.) and therefore cannot be understood through man's nature (III. vi., and vii.); therefore it is a passive state (III. Def. ii.) which (III. iii.) depends on inadequate ideas; consequently the knowledge thereof (II. xxix.), namely, the knowledge of evil, is inadequate. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Understanding evil (IV. viii.) is painful, as long as we are aware of it. Now, pain marks a shift toward a lesser state of perfection (Def. of the Emotions, iii.), and so it can't be fully grasped through human nature (III. vi., and vii.); thus, it is a passive condition (III. Def. ii.) that (III. iii.) relies on incomplete ideas; as a result, the understanding of it (II. xxix.), specifically the understanding of evil, is incomplete. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Hence it follows that, if the human mind possessed only adequate ideas, it would form no conception of evil.

Corollary.—Therefore, it follows that if the human mind only had adequate ideas, it wouldn't have any concept of evil.

PROP. LXV. Under the guidance of reason we should pursue the greater of two goods and the lesser of two evils.

PROP. LXV. With reason as our guide, we should seek the greater good and avoid the lesser evil.

Proof.—A good which prevents our enjoyment of a greater good is in reality an evil; for we apply the terms good and bad to things, in so far as we compare them one with another (see preface to this Part); therefore, evil is in reality a lesser good; hence under the guidance of reason we seek or pursue only the greater good and the lesser evil. Q.E.D.

Proof.—A benefit that stops us from enjoying a greater benefit is really a drawback; we label things as good or bad based on how we compare them with each other (see preface to this Part); therefore, evil is actually a lesser good; thus, guided by reason, we aim to pursue only the greater good and the lesser evil. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—We may, under the guidance of reason, pursue the lesser evil as though it were the greater good, and we may shun the lesser good, which would be the cause of the greater evil. For the evil, which is here called the lesser, is really good, and the lesser good is really evil, wherefore we may seek the former and shun the latter. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—We can, with reason as our guide, choose the lesser evil as if it were the greater good, and we can avoid the lesser good, which could lead to the greater evil. The evil referred to as lesser is actually good, and the lesser good is genuinely evil, so we should pursue the former and avoid the latter. Q.E.D.

PROP. LXVI. We may, under the guidance of reason, seek a greater good in the future in preference to a lesser good in the present, and we may seek a lesser evil in the present in preference to a greater evil in the future.[15]

PROP. LXVI. We can, with reason as our guide, pursue a greater good in the future instead of settling for a lesser good right now, and we can choose a lesser evil today instead of facing a greater evil later.

[15] "Maltim praesens minus prae majori futuro." (Van Vloten). Bruder reads: "Malum praesens minus, quod causa est faturi alicujus mali." The last word of the latter is an obvious misprint, and is corrected by the Dutch translator into "majoris boni." (Pollock, p. 268, note.)

[15] "Present evil is less than the greater good to come." (Van Vloten). Bruder interprets it as: "Present evil is less, which is the cause of some future evil." The last word in the latter is clearly a typo and has been corrected by the Dutch translator to "greater good." (Pollock, p. 268, note.)


Proof.—If the mind could have an adequate knowledge of things future, it would be affected towards what is future in the same way as towards what is present (IV. lxii.); wherefore, looking merely to reason, as in this proposition we are assumed to do, there is no difference, whether the greater good or evil be assumed as present, or assumed as future; hence (IV. lxv.) we may seek a greater good in the future in preference to a lesser good in the present, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—If the mind could fully understand what is to come, it would respond to the future just like it does to the present (IV. lxii.); therefore, focusing solely on reason, as we are assumed to do in this statement, there's no distinction between a greater good or evil being considered as present or as future; thus (IV. lxv.) we can pursue a greater good in the future instead of a lesser good in the present, etc. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—We may, under the guidance of reason, seek a lesser evil in the present, because it is the cause of a greater good in the future, and we may shun a lesser good in the present, because it is the cause of a greater evil in the future. This Corollary is related to the foregoing Proposition as the Corollary to IV. lxv. is related to the said IV. lxv.

Corollary.—We can, guided by reason, choose a smaller evil now if it leads to a greater good later, and we can avoid a smaller good now if it results in a greater evil later. This Corollary relates to the previous Proposition just as Corollary IV. lxv. relates to IV. lxv.

Note.—If these statements be compared with what we have pointed out concerning the strength of the emotions in this Part up to Prop. xviii., we shall readily see the difference between a man, who is led solely by emotion or opinion, and a man, who is led by reason. The former, whether will or no, performs actions whereof he is utterly ignorant; the latter is his own master and only performs such actions, as he knows are of primary importance in life, and therefore chiefly desires; wherefore I call the former a slave, and the latter a free man, concerning whose disposition and manner of life it will be well to make a few observations.

Note.—If we compare these statements with what we've discussed about the strength of emotions in this section up to Prop. xviii., it's easy to see the difference between someone who is driven solely by emotions or opinions and someone who is guided by reason. The former, willingly or not, engages in actions of which he is completely unaware; the latter is in control of himself and only takes actions that he knows are essential in life, and therefore mostly desires. For this reason, I refer to the former as a slave and the latter as a free person, regarding whose character and lifestyle it would be good to make a few observations.

PROP. LXVII. A free man thinks of death least of all things; and his wisdom is a meditation not of death but of life.

PROP. LXVII. A free person thinks about death less than anything else; and their wisdom is focused not on death but on life.

Proof.—A free man is one who lives under the guidance of reason, who is not led by fear (IV. lxiii.), but who directly desires that which is good (IV. lxiii. Coroll.), in other words (IV. xxiv.), who strives to act, to live, and to preserve his being on the basis of seeking his own true advantage; wherefore such an one thinks of nothing less than of death, but his wisdom is a meditation of life. Q.E.D.

Proof.—A free person is someone who lives by reason, not driven by fear (IV. lxiii.), but who actively desires what is good (IV. lxiii. Coroll.), in other words (IV. xxiv.), who aims to act, live, and sustain their existence by pursuing their own true benefit; therefore, such a person thinks about nothing less than life, and their wisdom is a reflection on living. Q.E.D.

PROP. LXVIII. If men were born free, they would, so long as they remained free, form no conception of good and evil.

PROP. LXVIII. If people were born free, they would, as long as they stayed free, have no idea of good and evil.

Proof.—I call free him who is led solely by reason; he, therefore, who is born free, and who remains free, has only adequate ideas; therefore (IV. lxiv. Coroll.) he has no conception of evil, or consequently (good and evil being correlative) of good. Q.E.D.

Proof.—I define a free person as one who is guided only by reason; thus, anyone who is born free and remains free has only clear ideas. Therefore (IV. lxiv. Coroll.), such a person has no concept of evil, and consequently (since good and evil are connected) no concept of good. Q.E.D.

Note.—It is evident, from IV. iv., that the hypothesis of this Proposition is false and inconceivable, except in so far as we look solely to the nature of man, or rather to God; not in so far as the latter is infinite, but only in so far as he is the cause of man's existence.

Note.—It is clear, from IV. iv., that the assumption of this Proposition is false and unimaginable, unless we focus only on the nature of humanity, or more accurately, on God; not in terms of His infinite nature, but only regarding His role as the cause of human existence.

This, and other matters which we have already proved, seem to have been signifieded by Moses in the history of the first man. For in that narrative no other power of God is conceived, save that whereby he created man, that is the power wherewith he provided solely for man's advantage; it is stated that God forbade man, being free, to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and that, as soon as man should have eaten of it, he would straightway fear death rather than desire to live. Further, it is written that when man had found a wife, who was in entire harmony with his nature, he knew that there could be nothing in nature which could be more useful to him; but that after he believed the beasts to be like himself, he straightway began to imitate their emotions (III. xxvii.), and to lose his freedom; this freedom was afterwards recovered by the patriarchs, led by the spirit of Christ; that is, by the idea of God, whereon alone it depends, that man may be free, and desire for others the good which he desires for himself, as we have shown above (IV. xxxvii.).

This, along with other points we've already proven, seems to be indicated by Moses in the story of the first man. In that account, there's no other power of God mentioned except for the one that created man, which is the power he used solely for man's benefit. It says that God, allowing man to be free, forbade him from eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and that as soon as man ate from it, he would immediately fear death instead of wanting to live. Furthermore, it says that when man found a wife who was completely in sync with his nature, he realized there was nothing in nature that could be more helpful to him. But after he imagined the beasts to be like him, he started to mimic their feelings (III. xxvii.) and lost his freedom. This freedom was later reclaimed by the patriarchs, inspired by the spirit of Christ; that is, by the idea of God, which is the sole basis for man's freedom and the desire for others to have the good he wishes for himself, as we've demonstrated above (IV. xxxvii.).

PROP. LXIX. The virtue of a free man is seen to be as great, when it declines dangers, as when it overcomes them.

PROP. LXIX. A free person's virtue is just as significant when it avoids dangers as it is when it faces and conquers them.

Proof.—Emotion can only be checked or removed by an emotion contrary to itself, and possessing more power in restraining emotion (IV. vii.). But blind daring and fear are emotions, which can be conceived as equally great (IV. v. and iii.): hence, no less virtue or firmness is required in checking daring than in checking fear (III. lix. note); in other words (Def. of the Emotions, xl. and xli.), the free man shows as much virtue, when he declines dangers, as when he strives to overcome them. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Emotion can only be restrained or eliminated by an opposing emotion that is stronger in controlling it (IV. vii.). However, blind daring and fear are emotions that can be viewed as equally intense (IV. v. and iii.): therefore, it takes just as much virtue or strength to manage daring as it does to manage fear (III. lix. note); in other words (Def. of the Emotions, xl. and xli.), a free person demonstrates as much virtue when they avoid dangers as when they attempt to conquer them. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—The free man is as courageous in timely retreat as in combat; or, a free man shows equal courage or presence of mind, whether he elect to give battle or to retreat.

Corollary.—A free person is just as brave in a timely retreat as they are in battle; in other words, a free person displays equal courage and composure, whether they choose to fight or to withdraw.

Note.—What courage (animositas) is, and what I mean thereby, I explained in III. lix. note. By danger I mean everything, which can give rise to any evil, such as pain, hatred, discord, &c.

Note.—What courage (animositas) is, and what I mean by that, I explained in III. lix. note. By danger, I mean everything that can lead to any form of harm, such as pain, hatred, discord, &c.

PROP. LXX. The free man, who lives among the ignorant, strives, as far as he can, to avoid receiving favours from them.

PROP. LXX. The free person, who lives among those who lack knowledge, does their best to avoid accepting favors from them.

Proof.—Everyone judges what is good according to his disposition (III. xxxix. note); wherefore an ignorant man, who has conferred a benefit on another, puts his own estimate upon it, and, if it appears to be estimated less highly by the receiver, will feel pain (III. xlii.). But the free man only desires to join other men to him in friendship (IV. xxxvii.), not repaying their benefits with others reckoned as of like value, but guiding himself and others by the free decision of reason, and doing only such things as he knows to be of primary importance. Therefore the free man, lest he should become hateful to the ignorant, or follow their desires rather than reason, will endeavour, as far as he can, to avoid receiving their favours.

Proof.—Everyone judges what is good based on their own perspective (III. xxxix. note); thus, an ignorant person, who has done something beneficial for someone else, evaluates it based on their own standards. If the recipient values that benefit less, the giver feels hurt (III. xlii.). However, a free person seeks to connect with others through friendship (IV. xxxvii.), not by repaying their kindness with something they consider of equal value, but by guiding themselves and others through reasoned choices, doing only what they recognize as truly important. Therefore, a free person, to avoid becoming disliked by the ignorant or acting on their desires instead of reason, will try, as much as possible, to refrain from accepting their favors.

Note.—I say, as far as he can. For though men be ignorant, yet are they men, and in cases of necessity could afford us human aid, the most excellent of all things: therefore it is often necessary to accept favours from them, and consequently to repay such favours in kind; we must, therefore, exercise caution in declining favours, lest we should have the appearance of despising those who bestow them, or of being, from avaricious motives, unwilling to requite them, and so give ground for offence by the very fact of striving to avoid it. Thus, in declining favours, we must look to the requirements of utility and courtesy.

Note.—I say, as much as he can. For even though people may be ignorant, they are still people, and in times of need, they can offer us human help, which is the best of all gifts: therefore, it is often necessary to accept favors from them, and in turn, to repay those favors; we should be careful in rejecting favors, so we don’t appear to look down on those who offer them or seem unwilling to return them out of selfish motives, which can create offense when we’re trying to avoid it. So, when we decline favors, we need to consider both practicality and politeness.

PROP. LXXI. Only free men are thoroughly grateful one to another.

PROP. LXXI. Only free people are truly grateful to one another.

Proof.—Only free men are thoroughly useful one to another, and associated among themselves by the closest necessity of friendship (IV. xxxv., and Coroll. i.), only such men endeavour, with mutual zeal of love, to confer benefits on each other (IV. xxxvii.), and, therefore, only they are thoroughly grateful one to another. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Only free people are truly useful to each other, connected by the strongest need for friendship (IV. xxxv., and Coroll. i.), and only these individuals strive, with a shared passion for love, to benefit one another (IV. xxxvii.), and therefore, only they are genuinely grateful to each other. Q.E.D.

Note.—The goodwill, which men who are led by blind desire have for one another, is generally a bargaining or enticement, rather than pure goodwill. Moreover, ingratitude is not an emotion. Yet it is base, inasmuch as it generally shows, that a man is affected by excessive hatred, anger, pride, avarice, &c. He who, by reason of his folly, knows not how to return benefits, is not ungrateful, much less he who is not gained over by the gifts of a courtesan to serve her lust, or by a thief to conceal his thefts, or by any similar persons. Contrariwise, such an one shows a constant mind, inasmuch as he cannot by any gifts be corrupted, to his own or the general hurt.

Note.—The goodwill that people driven by blind desire have for each other is usually just a means to an end or a trick, rather than genuine goodwill. Also, ingratitude isn't actually an emotion. However, it is despicable, as it typically reveals that a person is overwhelmed by intense hatred, anger, pride, greed, etc. Someone who, due to their foolishness, doesn't know how to return favors isn't ungrateful. This is even more true for someone who isn't swayed by a courtesan's gifts to satisfy her desires, by a thief to cover up his crimes, or by any similar individuals. On the contrary, such a person demonstrates a steady character, as they cannot be corrupted by any gifts, to their own detriment or that of others.

PROP. LXXII. The free man never acts fraudulently, but always in good faith.

PROP. LXXII. A free person never acts dishonestly, but always in good faith.

Proof.—If it be asked: What should a man's conduct be in a case where he could by breaking faith free himself from the danger of present death? Would not his plan of self—preservation completely persuade him to deceive? This may be answered by pointing out that, if reason persuaded him to act thus, it would persuade all men to act in a similar manner, in which case reason would persuade men not to agree in good faith to unite their forces, or to have laws in common, that is, not to have any general laws, which is absurd.

Proof.—If someone asks: What should a person do when they can escape the threat of immediate death by breaking their word? Wouldn’t their instinct for self-preservation convince them to deceive? The answer lies in the observation that if reason leads one person to act this way, it would also lead everyone else to do the same. This means that reason would ultimately convince people not to trust each other and unite their efforts, or to have shared laws—essentially, not to have any common laws at all, which is just absurd.

PROP. LXXIII. The man, who is guided by reason, is more free in a State, where he lives under a general system of law, than in solitude, where he is independent.

PROP. LXXIII. A person guided by reason is more free in a society governed by a general system of law than in solitude, where they are independent.

Proof.—The man, who is guided by reason, does not obey through fear (IV. lxiii.): but, in so far as he endeavours to preserve his being according to the dictates of reason, that is (IV. lxvi. note), in so far as he endeavours to live in freedom, he desires to order his life according to the general good (IV. xxxvii.), and, consequently (as we showed in IV. xxxvii. note. ii.), to live according to the laws of his country. Therefore the free man, in order to enjoy greater freedom, desires to possess the general rights of citizenship. Q.E.D.

Proof.—A person who is guided by reason doesn't obey out of fear (IV. lxiii.); rather, in their effort to maintain their existence according to reason's guidance, that is (IV. lxvi. note), as they strive to live freely, they wish to shape their life for the common good (IV. xxxvii.), and, therefore (as we indicated in IV. xxxvii. note. ii.), to live according to the laws of their nation. Thus, a free individual, to enjoy even greater freedom, wants to have the general rights of citizenship. Q.E.D.

Note.—These and similar observations, which we have made on man's true freedom, may be referred to strength, that is, to courage and nobility of character (III. lix. note). I do not think it worth while to prove separately all the properties of strength; much less need I show, that he that is strong hates no man, is angry with no man, envies no man, is indignant with no man, despises no man, and least of all things is proud. These propositions, and all that relate to the true way of life and religion, are easily proved from IV. xxxvii. and IV. xlvi.; namely, that hatred should be overcome with love, and that every man should desire for others the good which he seeks for himself. We may also repeat what we drew attention to in the note to IV. l., and in other places; namely, that the strong man has ever first in his thoughts, that all things follow from the necessity of the divine nature; so that whatsoever he deems to be hurtful and evil, and whatsoever, accordingly, seems to him impious, horrible, unjust, and base, assumes that appearance owing to his own disordered, fragmentary, and confused view of the universe. Wherefore he strives before all things to conceive things as they really are, and to remove the hindrances to true knowledge, such as are hatred, anger, envy, derision, pride, and similar emotions, which I have mentioned above. Thus he endeavours, as we said before, as far as in him lies, to do good, and to go on his way rejoicing. How far human virtue is capable of attaining to such a condition, and what its powers may be, I will prove in the following Part.

Note.—These and similar observations about true freedom can be linked to strength, which means courage and noble character (III. lix. note). I don't think it's necessary to prove each property of strength individually; even less do I need to show that a strong person hates no one, feels angry at no one, envies no one, is indignant at no one, despises no one, and is least of all proud. These ideas, along with everything related to a true way of life and religion, are easily supported by IV. xxxvii. and IV. xlvi.; specifically, that hatred should be overcome by love, and that everyone should wish for others the same good they seek for themselves. We can also reiterate what we pointed out in the note to IV. l., and elsewhere; namely, that a strong person always prioritizes the understanding that all things arise from the necessity of the divine nature, meaning that anything they view as harmful or evil, or as impious, terrible, unjust, and despicable, appears that way due to their own disordered, fragmentary, and confused perception of the universe. Therefore, they strive above all to see things as they truly are and to eliminate the barriers to true knowledge, which include hatred, anger, envy, derision, pride, and similar feelings that I've mentioned before. Thus, they endeavor, as we said earlier, to do good and to continue on their path joyfully. How far human virtue can achieve such a state, and what its capabilities may be, I will demonstrate in the following part.


APPENDIX.

What have said in this Part concerning the right way of life has not been arranged, so as to admit of being seen at one view, but has been set forth piece—meal, according as I thought each Proposition could most readily be deduced from what preceded it. I propose, therefore, to rearrange my remarks and to bring them under leading heads.

What I've discussed in this section about the right way to live hasn't been organized for a quick overview, but presented piece by piece, based on how I thought each point could be best derived from what came before it. I plan, therefore, to rearrange my comments and categorize them under main topics.

I. All our endeavours or desires so follow from the necessity of our nature, that they can be understood either through it alone, as their proximate cause, or by virtue of our being a part of nature, which cannot be adequately conceived through itself without other individuals.

I. All our efforts or desires stem from the necessity of our nature, so they can be understood either through it alone, as their immediate cause, or because we are part of nature, which can't be fully understood on its own without other individuals.

II. Desires, which follow from our nature in such a manner, that they can be understood through it alone, are those which are referred to the mind, in so far as the latter is conceived to consist of adequate ideas: the remaining desires are only referred to the mind, in so far as it conceives things inadequately, and their force and increase are generally defined not by the power of man, but by the power of things external to us: wherefore the former are rightly called actions, the latter passions, for the former always indicate our power, the latter, on the other hand, show our infirmity and fragmentary knowledge.

II. Desires that arise from our nature in a way that can only be understood through it are those related to the mind, as long as the mind is seen as having clear ideas. The other desires are only connected to the mind as it perceives things unclearly, and their strength and growth are often determined not by our own power, but by the influence of things outside of us. Therefore, the former are rightly called actions, while the latter are called passions; the former always indicate our strength, while the latter reveal our weaknesses and incomplete understanding.

III. Our actions, that is, those desires which are defined by man's power or reason, are always good. The rest may be either good or bad.

III. Our actions, meaning those desires defined by human power or reason, are always good. The others can be either good or bad.

IV. Thus in life it is before all things useful to perfect the understanding, or reason, as far as we can, and in this alone man's highest happiness or blessedness consists, indeed blessedness is nothing else but the contentment of spirit, which arises from the intuitive knowledge of God: now, to perfect the understanding is nothing else but to understand God, God's attributes, and the actions which follow from the necessity of his nature. Wherefore of a man, who is led by reason, the ultimate aim or highest desire, whereby he seeks to govern all his fellows, is that whereby he is brought to the adequate conception of himself and of all things within the scope of his intelligence.

IV. So in life, it’s essential to improve our understanding and reasoning as much as we can, because true happiness or fulfillment comes from this. In fact, fulfillment is simply the peace of mind that comes from a direct knowledge of God. To improve our understanding means to comprehend God, His qualities, and the actions that stem from His nature. Therefore, for a person guided by reason, the ultimate goal or deepest desire, which motivates him to lead others, is to achieve a clear understanding of himself and everything within his grasp of knowledge.

V. Therefore, without intelligence there is not rational life: and things are only good, in so far as they aid man in his enjoyment of the intellectual life, which is defined by intelligence. Contrariwise, whatsoever things hinder man's perfecting of his reason, and capability to enjoy the rational life, are alone called evil.

V. Therefore, without intelligence there is no rational life, and things are only good to the extent that they help people enjoy an intellectual life, which is defined by intelligence. On the other hand, anything that hinders a person's ability to perfect their reasoning and enjoy rational life is considered evil.

VI. As all things whereof man is the efficient cause are necessarily good, no evil can befall man except through external causes; namely, by virtue of man being a part of universal nature, whose laws human nature is compelled to obey, and to conform to in almost infinite ways.

VI. Since everything that humans actively create is inherently good, no harm can come to humans except from outside sources; specifically, due to humans being a part of the larger universal nature, whose laws human nature must follow and adapt to in countless ways.

VII. It is impossible, that man should not be a part of nature, or that he should not follow her general order; but if he be thrown among individuals whose nature is in harmony with his own, his power of action will thereby be aided and fostered, whereas, if he be thrown among such as are but very little in harmony with his nature, he will hardly be able to accommodate himself to them without undergoing a great change himself.

VII. It's impossible for a person not to be part of nature or to not follow her general rules; however, if they're surrounded by people whose nature aligns with their own, their ability to act will be supported and encouraged. On the other hand, if they're among those who are only slightly in tune with their nature, they'll struggle to adapt without going through a significant change themselves.

VIII. Whatsoever in nature we deem to be evil, or to be capable of injuring our faculty for existing and enjoying the rational life, we may endeavour to remove in whatever way seems safest to us; on the other hand, whatsoever we deem to be good or useful for preserving our being, and enabling us to enjoy the rational life, we may appropriate to our use and employ as we think best. Everyone without exception may, by sovereign right of nature, do whatsoever he thinks will advance his own interest.

VIII. Anything in nature that we consider to be bad or that could harm our ability to live happily and rationally, we can try to eliminate using whatever method seems safest to us; on the other hand, anything we see as good or helpful for maintaining our existence and allowing us to enjoy a rational life, we can take for ourselves and use as we see fit. Everyone, without exception, has the natural right to do whatever they believe will benefit their own interests.

IX. Nothing can be in more harmony with the nature of any given thing than other individuals of the same species; therefore (cf. vii.) for man in the preservation of his being and the enjoyment of the rational life there is nothing more useful than his fellow—man who is led by reason. Further, as we know not anything among individual things which is more excellent than a man led by reason, no man can better display the power of his skill and disposition, than in so training men, that they come at last to live under the dominion of their own reason.

IX. Nothing aligns better with the essence of any particular thing than other individuals of the same kind; therefore (cf. vii.) for humans, in sustaining their existence and enjoying a rational life, there’s nothing more beneficial than a fellow human guided by reason. Furthermore, since we recognize that there’s nothing among individual entities more outstanding than a reason-guided person, no one can showcase their skills and character better than by educating others to ultimately live under the rule of their own reason.

X. In so far as men are influenced by envy or any kind of hatred, one towards another, they are at variance, and are therefore to be feared in proportion, as they are more powerful than their fellows.

X. As long as people are affected by envy or any type of hatred towards one another, they are at odds, and should therefore be feared more the stronger they are compared to others.

XI. Yet minds are not conquered by force, but by love and high—mindedness.

XI. Yet minds are not conquered by force, but by love and nobility.

XII. It is before all things useful to men to associate their ways of life, to bind themselves together with such bonds as they think most fitted to gather them all into unity, and generally to do whatsoever serves to strengthen friendship.

XII. It is important for people to connect their ways of life, to come together with the bonds they believe are most suitable for uniting them, and generally to do whatever helps to strengthen friendships.

XIII. But for this there is need of skill and watchfulness. For men are diverse (seeing that those who live under the guidance of reason are few), yet are they generally envious and more prone to revenge than to sympathy. No small force of character is therefore required to take everyone as he is, and to restrain one's self from imitating the emotions of others. But those who carp at mankind, and are more skilled in railing at vice than in instilling virtue, and who break rather than strengthen men's dispositions, are hurtful both to themselves and others. Thus many from too great impatience of spirit, or from misguided religious zeal, have preferred to live among brutes rather than among men; as boys or youths, who cannot peaceably endure the chidings of their parents, will enlist as soldiers and choose the hardships of war and the despotic discipline in preference to the comforts of home and the admonitions of their father: suffering any burden to be put upon them, so long as they may spite their parents.

XIII. But for this, you need skill and awareness. People are different (since those who are guided by reason are few), but they are generally envious and more inclined to take revenge than to show sympathy. It takes a strong character to accept people as they are and to hold back from mirroring the emotions of others. Those who criticize humanity and are better at criticizing vice than promoting virtue, and who undermine rather than bolster people's attitudes, harm both themselves and others. As a result, many, driven by impatience or misguided religious fervor, have chosen to live among animals instead of among people; just as boys or young men, unable to tolerate their parents' scolding, will join the military and choose the hardships of war and strict discipline over the comforts of home and their father's advice: willing to endure any hardship just to defy their parents.

XIV. Therefore, although men are generally governed in everything by their own lusts, yet their association in common brings many more advantages than drawbacks. Wherefore it is better to bear patiently the wrongs they may do us, and to strive to promote whatsoever serves to bring about harmony and friendship.

XIV. Therefore, even though people are usually driven by their own desires, being part of a community brings more benefits than downsides. So, it’s better to patiently endure the wrongs they may do us and to work towards promoting anything that helps create harmony and friendship.

XV. Those things, which beget harmony, are such as are attributable to justice, equity, and honourable living. For men brook ill not only what is unjust or iniquitous, but also what is reckoned disgraceful, or that a man should slight the received customs of their society. For winning love those qualities are especially necessary which have regard to religion and piety (cf. IV. xxxvii. notes. i. ii.; xlvi. note; and lxxiii. note).

XV. The things that create harmony are linked to justice, fairness, and honorable living. People not only tolerate what is unjust or immoral, but they also dislike what is seen as shameful or when someone disrespects the accepted customs of their society. To win love, qualities related to faith and devotion are especially important (cf. IV. xxxvii. notes. i. ii.; xlvi. note; and lxxiii. note).

XVI. Further, harmony is often the result of fear: but such harmony is insecure. Further, fear arises from infirmity of spirit, and moreover belongs not to the exercise of reason: the same is true of compassion, though this latter seems to bear a certain resemblance to piety.

XVI. Additionally, harmony often comes from fear: but that kind of harmony is unstable. Moreover, fear comes from weakness of spirit and isn't part of rational thought; the same goes for compassion, even though compassion seems somewhat similar to piety.

XVII. Men are also gained over by liberality, especially such as have not the means to buy what is necessary to sustain life. However, to give aid to every poor man is far beyond the power and the advantage of any private person. For the riches of any private person are wholly inadequate to meet such a call. Again, an individual man's resources of character are too limited for him to be able to make all men his friends. Hence providing for the poor is a duty, which falls on the State as a whole, and has regard only to the general advantage.

XVII. People are also won over by generosity, especially those who can't afford the essentials for living. However, helping every poor person is way beyond the capacity and benefit of any individual. Because the wealth of any one person is simply not enough to meet such a demand. Additionally, a single person's character is too limited for them to make everyone their friend. Therefore, taking care of the poor is a responsibility that falls on the State as a whole and is focused solely on the general good.

XVIII. In accepting favours, and in returning gratitude our duty must be wholly different (cf. IV. lxx. note; lxxi. note).

XVIII. When we accept favors and express our gratitude, our responsibilities must be completely different (cf. IV. lxx. note; lxxi. note).

XIX. Again, meretricious love, that is, the lust of generation arising from bodily beauty, and generally every sort of love, which owns anything save freedom of soul as its cause, readily passes into hate; unless indeed, what is worse, it is a species of madness; and then it promotes discord rather than harmony (cf. III. xxxi. Coroll.).

XIX. Again, superficial love, which comes from physical attraction and basically any kind of love that doesn't consider the freedom of the soul as its foundation, easily turns into hate; unless, of course, what’s worse, it becomes a form of madness; and then it fosters conflict instead of harmony (cf. III. xxxi. Coroll.).

XX. As concerning marriage, it is certain that this is in harmony with reason, if the desire for physical union be not engendered solely by bodily beauty, but also by the desire to beget children and to train them up wisely; and moreover, if the love of both, to wit, of the man and of the woman, is not caused by bodily beauty only, but also by freedom of soul.

XX. Concerning marriage, it's clear that this aligns with reason, provided that the desire for physical union is not driven only by physical attraction, but also by the wish to have children and raise them wisely; furthermore, if the love between the man and the woman is not based solely on physical beauty, but also on the freedom of their spirits.

XXI. Furthermore, flattery begets harmony; but only by means of the vile offence of slavishness or treachery. None are more readily taken with flattery than the proud, who wish to be first, but are not.

XXI. Moreover, flattery creates harmony; but only through the disgusting act of servility or betrayal. No one is more easily swayed by flattery than the arrogant, who want to be at the top but aren’t.

XXII. There is in abasement a spurious appearance of piety and religion. Although abasement is the opposite to pride, yet is he that abases himself most akin to the proud (IV. lvii. note).

XXII. There is a false sense of piety and religion in abasement. Although abasement is the opposite of pride, the one who humbles himself is often most similar to the proud (IV. lvii. note).

XXIII. Shame also brings about harmony, but only in such matters as cannot be hid. Further, as shame is a species of pain, it does not concern the exercise of reason.

XXIII. Shame also creates harmony, but only in matters that can't be hidden. Furthermore, since shame is a kind of pain, it doesn't relate to the use of reason.

XXIV. The remaining emotions of pain towards men are directly opposed to justice, equity, honour, piety, and religion; and, although indignation seems to bear a certain resemblance to equity, yet is life but lawless, where every man may pass judgment on another's deeds, and vindicate his own or other men's rights.

XXIV. The other feelings of pain towards people go directly against justice, fairness, honor, piety, and religion; and while indignation may seem somewhat similar to fairness, life becomes chaotic when everyone can judge each other's actions and defend their own or someone else's rights.

XXV. Correctness of conduct (modestia), that is, the desire of pleasing men which is determined by reason, is attributable to piety (as we said in IV. xxxvii. note. i.). But, if it spring from emotion, it is ambition, or the desire whereby, men, under the false cloak of piety, generally stir up discords and seditions. For he who desires to aid his fellows either in word or in deed, so that they may together enjoy the highest good, he, I say, will before all things strive to win them over with love: not to draw them into admiration, so that a system may be called after his name, nor to give any cause for envy. Further, in his conversation he will shrink from talking of men's faults, and will be careful to speak but sparingly of human infirmity: but he will dwell at length on human virtue or power, and the way whereby it may be perfected. Thus will men be stirred not by fear, nor by aversion, but only by the emotion of joy, to endeavour, so far as in them lies, to live in obedience to reason.

XXV. The correctness of conduct (modesty), which is the desire to please others guided by reason, is linked to piety (as we mentioned in IV. xxxvii. note. i.). However, if it comes from emotion, it turns into ambition, which is the desire that leads people to create conflicts and unrest under the false pretense of piety. The person who genuinely wants to help others, whether through words or actions, so that they can all share in the highest good, will prioritize winning them over with love. They won’t seek admiration to have a system named after them, nor will they give others a reason to feel envious. Additionally, in conversation, they will avoid discussing others' faults and will speak only lightly of human weaknesses. Instead, they will focus extensively on human virtue and strength, and the ways to enhance it. In this way, people will be motivated not by fear or resentment but solely by the joy of striving to live in accordance with reason.

XXVI. Besides men, we know of no particular thing in nature in whose mind we may rejoice, and whom we can associate with ourselves in friendship or any sort of fellowship; therefore, whatsoever there be in nature besides man, a regard for our advantage does not call on us to preserve, but to preserve or destroy according to its various capabilities, and to adapt to our use as best we may.

XXVI. Besides humans, we don’t know of anything in nature that can share in our joy or form a friendship with us; therefore, whatever exists in nature besides people, our interest doesn’t compel us to protect it, but rather to preserve or destroy it based on its different properties and to use it in whatever way we can.

XXVII. The advantage which we derive from things external to us, besides the experience and knowledge which we acquire from observing them, and from recombining their elements in different forms, is principally the preservation of the body; from this point of view, those things are most useful which can so feed and nourish the body, that all its parts may rightly fulfil their functions. For, in proportion as the body is capable of being affected in a greater variety of ways, and of affecting external bodies in a great number of ways, so much the more is the mind capable of thinking (IV. xxxviii., xxxix.). But there seem to be very few things of this kind in nature; wherefore for the due nourishment of the body we must use many foods of diverse nature. For the human body is composed of very many parts of different nature, which stand in continual need of varied nourishment, so that the whole body may be equally capable of doing everything that can follow from its own nature, and consequently that the mind also may be equally capable of forming many perceptions.

XXVII. The benefits we get from things outside of us, besides the experience and knowledge we gain from observing them and mixing their elements in different ways, mainly involve keeping our bodies healthy. From this perspective, the most useful things are those that can nourish and sustain the body, allowing all its parts to function properly. Because the body can be affected in many ways and can also impact external things in various manners, the mind is similarly better equipped to think. However, there don't seem to be many such things in nature, which is why we need to consume a variety of foods for proper nourishment. The human body is made up of many different parts that consistently require diverse nourishment so that the entire body can effectively perform all that its nature allows, and consequently, the mind can also form many perceptions.

XXVIII. Now for providing these nourishments the strength of each individual would hardly suffice, if men did not lend one another mutual aid. But money has furnished us with a token for everything: hence it is with the notion of money, that the mind of the multitude is chiefly engrossed: nay, it can hardly conceive any kind of pleasure, which is not accompanied with the idea of money as cause.

XXVIII. To gather these resources, the strength of each person alone would hardly be enough if people didn't help each other out. But money has given us a symbol for everything: as a result, the idea of money occupies most of the public's mind; in fact, it's hard for them to imagine any kind of pleasure that isn't linked to money as the cause.

XXIX. This result is the fault only of those, who seek money, not from poverty or to supply their necessary wants, but because they have learned the arts of gain, wherewith they bring themselves to great splendour. Certainly they nourish their bodies, according to custom, but scantily, believing that they lose as much of their wealth as they spend on the preservation of their body. But they who know the true use of money, and who fix the measure of wealth solely with regard to their actual needs, live content with little.

XXIX. This outcome is solely the fault of those who pursue money, not out of necessity or to meet their basic needs, but because they've mastered the skills of making money, which leads them to great wealth. Sure, they sustain their bodies like everyone else, but they do so sparingly, thinking that every dollar spent on taking care of themselves is a loss of wealth. However, those who understand the real purpose of money, and who define wealth based only on their actual needs, are satisfied with having little.

XXX. As, therefore, those things are good which assist the various parts of the body, and enable them to perform their functions; and as pleasure consists in an increase of, or aid to, man's power, in so far as he is composed of mind and body; it follows that all those things which bring pleasure are good. But seeing that things do not work with the object of giving us pleasure, and that their power of action is not tempered to suit our advantage, and, lastly, that pleasure is generally referred to one part of the body more than to the other parts; therefore most emotions of pleasure (unless reason and watchfulness be at hand), and consequently the desires arising therefrom, may become excessive. Moreover we may add that emotion leads us to pay most regard to what is agreeable in the present, nor can we estimate what is future with emotions equally vivid. (IV. xliv. note, and lx. note.)

XXX. As a result, things that are good support the different parts of the body and help them do their jobs. Since pleasure comes from an increase in, or support for, a person's power, considering that we are made up of both mind and body, it follows that anything that brings pleasure is good. However, because things don’t act with the goal of giving us pleasure, and because their ability to act isn’t always aligned with our benefit, and also because pleasure is usually tied to one part of the body more than others, many feelings of pleasure (unless we have reason and awareness on our side) and the desires that come from them can become too much. Additionally, we can see that emotions lead us to focus more on what feels good right now, and we can’t evaluate future things with the same strong feelings. (IV. xliv. note, and lx. note.)

XXXI. Superstition, on the other hand, seems to account as good all that brings pain, and as bad all that brings pleasure. However, as we said above (IV. xlv. note), none but the envious take delight in my infirmity and trouble. For the greater the pleasure whereby we are affected, the greater is the perfection whereto we pass, and consequently the more do we partake of the divine nature: no pleasure can ever be evil, which is regulated by a true regard for our advantage. But contrariwise he, who is led by fear and does good only to avoid evil, is not guided by reason.

XXXI. Superstition, on the other hand, tends to see everything that brings pain as good and everything that brings pleasure as bad. However, as we mentioned earlier (IV. xlv. note), only the envious take pleasure in my weakness and troubles. The greater the pleasure we experience, the closer we are to achieving perfection, and therefore the more we connect with the divine nature: no pleasure can ever be wrong if it is based on a genuine concern for our well-being. In contrast, someone who is driven by fear and only does good to avoid bad outcomes is not acting based on reason.

XXXII. But human power is extremely limited, and is infinitely surpassed by the power of external causes; we have not, therefore, an absolute power of shaping to our use those things which are without us. Nevertheless, we shall bear with an equal mind all that happens to us in contravention to the claims of our own advantage, so long as we are conscious, that we have done our duty, and that the power which we possess is not sufficient to enable us to protect ourselves completely; remembering that we are a part of universal nature, and that we follow her order. If we have a clear and distinct understanding of this, that part of our nature which is defined by intelligence, in other words the better part of ourselves, will assuredly acquiesce in what befalls us, and in such acquiescence will endeavour to persist. For, in so far as we are intelligent beings, we cannot desire anything save that which is necessary, nor yield absolute acquiescence to anything, save to that which is true: wherefore, in so far as we have a right understanding of these things, the endeavour of the better part of ourselves is in harmony with the order of nature as a whole.

XXXII. But human power is extremely limited and is far surpassed by the influence of external factors; we don't have absolute control over the things outside of ourselves. Still, we will remain calm in the face of anything that goes against our interests, as long as we know we've done our part and recognize that the power we have isn’t enough to fully protect us; remembering that we are part of the greater whole of nature and that we follow its order. If we clearly understand this, the part of us defined by intelligence—our better selves—will surely accept what happens to us and will strive to persist in that acceptance. As intelligent beings, we can only desire what is necessary and cannot fully accept anything except what is true; therefore, when we understand these things correctly, our better selves align with the overall order of nature.




PART V:

Of the Power of the Understanding, or of Human Freedom


PREFACE

At length I pass to the remaining portion of my Ethics, which is concerned with the way leading to freedom. I shall therefore treat therein of the power of the reason, showing how far the reason can control the emotions, and what is the nature of Mental Freedom or Blessedness; we shall then be able to see, how much more powerful the wise man is than the ignorant. It is no part of my design to point out the method and means whereby the understanding may be perfected, nor to show the skill whereby the body may be so tended, as to be capable of the due performance of its functions. The latter question lies in the province of Medicine, the former in the province of Logic. Here, therefore, I repeat, I shall treat only of the power of the mind, or of reason; and I shall mainly show the extent and nature of its dominion over the emotions, for their control and moderation. That we do not possess absolute dominion over them, I have already shown. Yet the Stoics have thought, that the emotions depended absolutely on our will, and that we could absolutely govern them. But these philosophers were compelled, by the protest of experience, not from their own principles, to confess, that no slight practice and zeal is needed to control and moderate them: and this someone endeavoured to illustrate by the example (if I remember rightly) of two dogs, the one a house—dog and the other a hunting—dog. For by long training it could be brought about, that the house—dog should become accustomed to hunt, and the hunting—dog to cease from running after hares. To this opinion Descartes not a little inclines. For he maintained, that the soul or mind is specially united to a particular part of the brain, namely, to that part called the pineal gland, by the aid of which the mind is enabled to feel all the movements which are set going in the body, and also external objects, and which the mind by a simple act of volition can put in motion in various ways. He asserted, that this gland is so suspended in the midst of the brain, that it could be moved by the slightest motion of the animal spirits: further, that this gland is suspended in the midst of the brain in as many different manners, as the animal spirits can impinge thereon; and, again, that as many different marks are impressed on the said gland, as there are different external objects which impel the animal spirits towards it; whence it follows, that if the will of the soul suspends the gland in a position, wherein it has already been suspended once before by the animal spirits driven in one way or another, the gland in its turn reacts on the said spirits, driving and determining them to the condition wherein they were, when repulsed before by a similar position of the gland. He further asserted, that every act of mental volition is united in nature to a certain given motion of the gland. For instance, whenever anyone desires to look at a remote object, the act of volition causes the pupil of the eye to dilate, whereas, if the person in question had only thought of the dilatation of the pupil, the mere wish to dilate it would not have brought about the result, inasmuch as the motion of the gland, which serves to impel the animal spirits towards the optic nerve in a way which would dilate or contract the pupil, is not associated in nature with the wish to dilate or contract the pupil, but with the wish to look at remote or very near objects. Lastly, he maintained that, although every motion of the aforesaid gland seems to have been united by nature to one particular thought out of the whole number of our thoughts from the very beginning of our life, yet it can nevertheless become through habituation associated with other thoughts; this he endeavours to prove in the Passions de l'âme, I.50. He thence concludes, that there is no soul so weak, that it cannot, under proper direction, acquire absolute power over its passions. For passions as defined by him are "perceptions, or feelings, or disturbances of the soul, which are referred to the soul as species, and which (mark the expression) are produced, preserved, and strengthened through some movement of the spirits." (Passions de l'âme, I.27). But, seeing that we can join any motion of the gland, or consequently of the spirits, to any volition, the determination of the will depends entirely on our own powers; if, therefore, we determine our will with sure and firm decisions in the direction to which we wish our actions to tend, and associate the motions of the passions which we wish to acquire with the said decisions, we shall acquire an absolute dominion over our passions. Such is the doctrine of this illustrious philosopher (in so far as I gather it from his own words); it is one which, had it been less ingenious, I could hardly believe to have proceeded from so great a man. Indeed, I am lost in wonder, that a philosopher, who had stoutly asserted, that he would draw no conclusions which do not follow from self—evident premisses, and would affirm nothing which he did not clearly and distinctly perceive, and who had so often taken to task the scholastics for wishing to explain obscurities through occult qualities, could maintain a hypothesis, beside which occult qualities are commonplace. What does he understand, I ask, by the union of the mind and the body? What clear and distinct conception has he got of thought in most intimate union with a certain particle of extended matter? Truly I should like him to explain this union through its proximate cause. But he had so distinct a conception of mind being distinct from body, that he could not assign any particular cause of the union between the two, or of the mind itself, but was obliged to have recourse to the cause of the whole universe, that is to God. Further, I should much like to know, what degree of motion the mind can impart to this pineal gland, and with what force can it hold it suspended? For I am in ignorance, whether this gland can be agitated more slowly or more quickly by the mind than by the animal spirits, and whether the motions of the passions, which we have closely united with firm decisions, cannot be again disjoined therefrom by physical causes; in which case it would follow that, although the mind firmly intended to face a given danger, and had united to this decision the motions of boldness, yet at the sight of the danger the gland might become suspended in a way, which would preclude the mind thinking of anything except running away. In truth, as there is no common standard of volition and motion, so is there no comparison possible between the powers of the mind and the power or strength of the body; consequently the strength of one cannot in any wise be determined by the strength of the other. We may also add, that there is no gland discoverable in the midst of the brain, so placed that it can thus easily be set in motion in so many ways, and also that all the nerves are not prolonged so far as the cavities of the brain. Lastly, I omit all the assertions which he makes concerning the will and its freedom, inasmuch as I have abundantly proved that his premisses are false. Therefore, since the power of the mind, as I have shown above, is defined by the understanding only, we shall determine solely by the knowledge of the mind the remedies against the emotions, which I believe all have had experience of, but do not accurately observe or distinctly see, and from the same basis we shall deduce all those conclusions, which have regard to the mind's blessedness.

At last, I turn to the final part of my Ethics, which focuses on the path to freedom. I'll discuss the power of reason, illustrating how reason can control emotions and what Mental Freedom or Blessedness truly is. This will help us understand how much more powerful a wise person is compared to someone who is ignorant. It’s not my aim to outline the methods and means for perfecting understanding, nor to show how to take care of the body so it can perform its functions. The latter falls under Medicine, while the former pertains to Logic. Therefore, I want to emphasize the power of the mind, or reason, showing primarily how it has dominion over emotions for their control and moderation. I've already demonstrated that we don't have absolute control over them. However, the Stoics believed that emotions were entirely dependent on our will and that we could fully govern them. Yet, these philosophers were forced by the evidence of experience—not their own principles—to admit that considerable practice and effort are necessary to control and moderate emotions. Someone illustrated this with the example of two dogs: a house dog and a hunting dog. With enough training, the house dog could learn to hunt, and the hunting dog could learn to stop chasing hares. Descartes also leans towards this view. He claimed that the soul or mind is specifically connected to a part of the brain called the pineal gland, which allows the mind to feel all movements within the body and respond to external objects. Through a simple act of will, the mind can activate these movements in various ways. He argued that this gland is positioned within the brain so that it can be influenced by the slightest movement of the animal spirits; and that it’s positioned in as many different ways as there are ways the animal spirits can affect it. Moreover, as many different marks are left on the gland as there are external objects that push the animal spirits toward it. This implies that if the will of the soul places the gland in a position it has been in before due to the animal spirits moving in different directions, the gland then influences those spirits, pushing them back to the state they were in when they were repelled by a similar position of the gland before. He also stated that every act of mental will is naturally linked to a specific motion of the gland. For instance, when someone wants to look at something far away, the act of will makes the pupil of the eye widen, but if the person merely thought about dilating their pupil, that wish alone wouldn't create the result. The motion of the gland that directs the animal spirits toward the optic nerve, in a way that either dilates or contracts the pupil, isn't linked to the desire to change the pupil's size, but rather to the wish to look at distant or very close objects. Lastly, he insisted that while every motion of this gland seems inherently connected to one specific thought throughout our lives, it can ultimately become associated with other thoughts through habit; he attempts to prove this in Passions de l'âme, I.50. From this, he concludes that no soul is so weak that it can't, with proper guidance, gain absolute control over its passions. He defines passions as "perceptions, or feelings, or disturbances of the soul, which are referred to the soul as species, and which (note the phrase) are produced, preserved, and strengthened through some movement of the spirits." (Passions de l'âme, I.27). Since we can connect any motion of the gland—and thus of the spirits—to any act of will, the determination of the will is entirely up to us. If we firm up our will with clear decisions towards the actions we want to take while associating the motions of the passions we want to cultivate with those decisions, we gain complete control over our passions. This is the teaching of this notable philosopher (as far as I understand it from his own words); a belief so clever that I can hardly believe it comes from such a great thinker. In fact, I'm amazed that a philosopher who firmly asserted that he wouldn’t draw any conclusions not based on self-evident premises and wouldn’t affirm anything he didn't clearly and distinctly perceive—who repeatedly criticized scholastics for wanting to explain uncertainties through hidden qualities—would support a hypothesis that's even more obscure than those qualities. What does he mean, I wonder, by the union of mind and body? What clear and distinct idea does he have of thought being so intimately linked with a specific part of extended matter? I truly wish he would clarify this connection using its immediate cause. Yet, he had such a clear idea of the mind as separate from the body that he couldn't pinpoint any specific cause for the union between the two, instead relying on the cause of the entire universe, which is God. Furthermore, I would greatly like to know what degree of motion the mind can give to this pineal gland, and how strongly it can hold it in place. I'm unsure whether this gland can be influenced by the mind more slowly or quickly than by the animal spirits, and whether the motions of the passions, which we’ve closely associated with firm decisions, can be separated from those decisions by physical causes; in that case, it would follow that if the mind firmly intended to confront a specific danger and had linked that intent with feelings of bravery, when faced with the danger, the gland might become suspended in a way that would prevent the mind from thinking of anything except running away. Truly, just as there’s no common standard of will and motion, there’s no way to compare the powers of the mind and body; therefore, one’s strength cannot be measured by the other’s. Additionally, there isn't a gland found in the brain that is positioned so it can be easily influenced in so many ways, and not all nerves extend far enough into the brain's cavities. Lastly, I refrain from discussing all the claims he makes regarding will and its freedom, since I've sufficiently shown that his premises are false. Thus, since the power of the mind, as I've illustrated above, is defined solely by understanding, we will solely rely on the mind's knowledge to identify remedies against emotions, which I believe everyone has experienced, even if they don't observe or understand them accurately, and from the same foundation we will draw conclusions related to the mind's blessedness.


AXIOMS.

I. If two contrary actions be started in the same subject, a change must necessarily take place, either in both, or in one of the two, and continue until they cease to be contrary.

I. If two opposing actions are initiated regarding the same subject, a change must inevitably occur, either in both actions or in one of them, and this will continue until they are no longer opposing.

II. The power of an effect is defined by the power of its cause, in so far as its essence is explained or defined by the essence of its cause.

II. The strength of an effect is determined by the strength of its cause, to the extent that its nature is explained or defined by the nature of its cause.

(This axiom is evident from III. vii.)

(This axiom is clear from III. vii.)


PROPOSITIONS.

PROP. I. Even as thoughts and the ideas of things are arranged and associated in the mind, so are the modifications of body or the images of things precisely in the same way arranged and associated in the body.

PROP. I. Just as thoughts and ideas about things are organized and connected in the mind, the changes in the body or the images of things are organized and connected in the body in exactly the same way.

Proof.—The order and connection of ideas is the same (II. vii.) as the order and connection of things, and vice versâ the order and connection of things is the same (II. vi. Coroll. and vii.) as the order and connection of ideas. Wherefore, even as the order and connection of ideas in the mind takes place according to the order and association of modifications of the body (II. xviii.), so vice versâ (III. ii.) the order and connection of modifications of the body takes place in accordance with the manner, in which thoughts and the ideas of things are arranged and associated in the mind. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The sequence and relationship of ideas is the same (II. vii.) as the sequence and relationship of physical things, and similarly, the sequence and relationship of physical things is the same (II. vi. Coroll. and vii.) as the sequence and relationship of ideas. Therefore, just as the sequence and relationship of ideas in the mind occur according to the order and association of physical modifications (II. xviii.), the sequence and relationship of physical modifications also occur based on how thoughts and ideas of things are organized and associated in the mind (III. ii.). Q.E.D.

PROP. II. If we remove a disturbance of the spirit, or emotion, from the thought of an external cause, and unite it to other thoughts, then will the love or hatred towards that external cause, and also the vacillations of spirit which arise from these emotions, be destroyed.

PROP. II. If we take away an emotional disturbance caused by an external factor and connect it to other thoughts, then the love or hate we feel towards that external factor, along with the ups and downs of our emotions that come from these feelings, will disappear.

Proof.—That, which constitutes the reality of love or hatred, is pleasure or pain, accompanied by the idea of an external cause (Def. of the Emotions, vi. vii.); wherefore, when this cause is removed, the reality of love or hatred is removed with it; therefore these emotions and those which arise therefrom are destroyed. Q.E.D.

Proof.—What makes love or hatred real is pleasure or pain, along with the idea of an external cause (Def. of the Emotions, vi. vii.); therefore, when this cause is gone, the reality of love or hatred goes with it; as a result, these emotions and those that come from them are eliminated. Q.E.D.

PROP. III. An emotion, which is a passion, ceases to be a passion, as soon as we form a clear and distinct idea thereof.

PROP. III. An emotion that is a passion stops being a passion as soon as we have a clear and distinct understanding of it.

Proof.—An emotion, which is a passion, is a confused idea (by the general Def. of the Emotions). If, therefore, we form a clear and distinct idea of a given emotion, that idea will only be distinguished from the emotion, in so far as it is referred to the mind only, by reason (II. xxi., and note); therefore (III. iii.), the emotion will cease to be a passion. Q.E.D.

Proof.—An emotion, which is a passion, is a mixed-up idea (based on the general definition of emotions). So, if we create a clear and distinct idea of a specific emotion, that idea will only be different from the emotion as it pertains to the mind alone, due to reason (II. xxi., and note); therefore (III. iii.), the emotion will no longer be a passion. Q.E.D.

Corollary—An emotion therefore becomes more under our control, and the mind is less passive in respect to it, in proportion as it is more known to us.

Corollary—An emotion becomes more within our control, and the mind is less passive towards it, as we understand it better.

PROP. IV. There is no modification of the body, whereof we cannot form some clear and distinct conception.

PROP. IV. There’s no change in the body that we can’t have a clear and distinct idea of.

Proof.—Properties which are common to all things can only be conceived adequately (II. xxxviii.); therefore (II. xii. and Lemma ii. after II. xiii.) there is no modification of the body, whereof we cannot form some clear and distinct conception. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Properties that are common to all things can only be understood fully (II. xxxviii.); therefore (II. xii. and Lemma ii. after II. xiii.) there is no change in the body that we cannot form some clear and distinct idea about. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Hence it follows that there is no emotion, whereof we cannot form some clear and distinct conception. For an emotion is the idea of a modification of the body (by the general Def. of the Emotions), and must therefore (by the preceding Prop.) involve some clear and distinct conception.

Corollary.—This means that there is no emotion for which we can’t create a clear and distinct idea. An emotion is the concept of a change in the body (according to the general definition of emotions), and, therefore (as indicated by the previous proposition), must involve some clear and distinct idea.

Note.—Seeing that there is nothing which is not followed by an effect (I. xxxvi.), and that we clearly and distinctly understand whatever follows from an idea, which in us is adequate (II. xl.), it follows that everyone has the power of clearly and distinctly understanding himself and his emotions, if not absolutely, at any rate in part, and consequently of bringing it about, that he should become less subject to them. To attain this result, therefore, we must chiefly direct our efforts to acquiring, as far as possible, a clear and distinct knowledge of every emotion, in order that the mind may thus, through emotion, be determined to think of those things which it clearly and distinctly perceives, and wherein it fully acquiesces: and thus that the emotion itself may be separated from the thought of an external cause, and may be associated with true thoughts; whence it will come to pass, not only that love, hatred, &c. will be destroyed (V. ii.), but also that the appetites or desires, which are wont to arise from such emotion, will become incapable of being excessive (IV. lxi.). For it must be especially remarked, that the appetite through which a man is said to be active, and that through which he is said to be passive is one and the same. For instance, we have shown that human nature is so constituted, that everyone desires his fellow—men to live after his own fashion (III. xxxi. note); in a man, who is not guided by reason, this appetite is a passion which is called ambition, and does not greatly differ from pride; whereas in a man, who lives by the dictates of reason, it is an activity or virtue which is called piety (IV. xxxvii. note. i. and second proof). In like manner all appetites or desires are only passions, in so far as they spring from inadequate ideas; the same results are accredited to virtue, when they are aroused or generated by adequate ideas. For all desires, whereby we are determined to any given action, may arise as much from adequate as from inadequate ideas (IV. lix.). Than this remedy for the emotions (to return to the point from which I started), which consists in a true knowledge thereof, nothing more excellent, being within our power, can be devised. For the mind has no other power save that of thinking and of forming adequate ideas, as we have shown above (III. iii.).

Note.—Since everything has an effect (I. xxxvi.), and we clearly and distinctly understand anything that follows from an adequate idea (II. xl.), it follows that everyone can clearly and distinctly understand themselves and their emotions, if not completely, at least partially, and thereby can become less controlled by them. To achieve this, we must focus on gaining a clear and distinct understanding of each emotion, so that the mind can be directed by that understanding to think about things it clearly perceives and fully accepts. This way, the emotion can be separated from external causes and linked to true thoughts; as a result, not only will feelings like love and hatred be diminished (V. ii.), but also the desires that typically arise from these emotions will be less extreme (IV. lxi.). It should be specifically noted that the desire that makes a person active and the one that makes them passive are essentially the same. For example, we've shown that human nature is such that everyone wants others to live according to their own preferences (III. xxxi. note); for a person not guided by reason, this desire becomes a passion called ambition, which is closely related to pride. On the other hand, for a person who follows reason, it manifests as an action or virtue known as piety (IV. xxxvii. note. i. and second proof). Similarly, all desires are merely passions when they stem from inadequate ideas; they are deemed virtuous when they arise from adequate ideas. All desires that lead us to act can originate from either adequate or inadequate ideas (IV. lix.). Coming back to my original point, nothing better can be devised as a remedy for emotions than true knowledge of them, which is within our reach. For the mind has no other power than thinking and forming adequate ideas, as we have already shown (III. iii.).

PROP. V. An emotion towards a thing, which we conceive simply, and not as necessary, or as contingent, or as possible, is, other conditions being equal, greater than any other emotion.

PROP. V. An emotion towards something that we view simply, and not as necessary, contingent, or possible, is, all other things being equal, stronger than any other emotion.

Proof.—An emotion towards a thing, which we conceive to be free, is greater than one towards what we conceive to be necessary (III. xlix.), and, consequently, still greater than one towards what we conceive as possible, or contingent (IV. xi.). But to conceive a thing as free can be nothing else than to conceive it simply, while we are in ignorance of the causes whereby it has been determined to action (II. xxxv. note); therefore, an emotion towards a thing which we conceive simply is, other conditions being equal, greater than one, which we feel towards what is necessary, possible, or contingent, and, consequently, it is the greatest of all. Q.E.D.

Proof.—An emotion toward something we think is free is stronger than one toward something we think is necessary (III. xlix.), and therefore, it’s even stronger than an emotion toward something we see as possible or contingent (IV. xi.). But to think of something as free means that we see it in a straightforward way, without knowing the causes that led to its action (II. xxxv. note); so, an emotion we feel toward something we see simply is, all other conditions being equal, greater than our emotion toward what is necessary, possible, or contingent, and therefore, it is the greatest of all. Q.E.D.

PROP. VI. The mind has greater power over the emotions and is less subject thereto, in so far as it understands all things as necessary.

PROP. VI. The mind has more control over emotions and is less affected by them when it understands everything as necessary.

Proof.—The mind understands all things to be necessary (I. xxix.) and to be determined to existence and operation by an infinite chain of causes; therefore (by the foregoing Proposition), it thus far brings it about, that it is less subject to the emotions arising therefrom, and (III. xlviii.) feels less emotion towards the things themselves. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The mind realizes that everything is necessary (I. xxix.) and is shaped by an endless chain of causes; therefore (as mentioned in the previous Proposition), it manages to be less influenced by the emotions that come from this, and (III. xlviii.) experiences less emotion towards the things themselves. Q.E.D.

Note.—The more this knowledge, that things are necessary, is applied to particular things, which we conceive more distinctly and vividly, the greater is the power of the mind over the emotions, as experience also testifies. For we see, that the pain arising from the loss of any good is mitigated, as soon as the man who has lost it perceives, that it could not by any means have been preserved. So also we see that no one pities an infant, because it cannot speak, walk, or reason, or lastly, because it passes so many years, as it were, in unconsciousness. Whereas, if most people were born full—grown and only one here and there as an infant, everyone would pity the infants; because infancy would not then be looked on as a state natural and necessary, but as a fault or delinquency in Nature; and we may note several other instances of the same sort.

Note.—The more we apply the understanding that things are necessary to specific situations, which we think about more clearly and vividly, the stronger our mental control over our emotions becomes, as experience shows. We see that the pain from losing something good lessens as soon as the person who lost it realizes that there was no way to keep it. Likewise, we notice that no one feels sorry for a baby because it can't talk, walk, or think for itself, or because it spends so many years, so to speak, in a state of unawareness. If most people were born fully grown with only a few as infants, everyone would feel sorry for the babies; because infancy would then be seen not as a natural and necessary stage, but as a flaw or failing in nature. We can find many other examples of this kind of thinking.

PROP. VII. Emotions which are aroused or spring from reason, if we take account of time, are stronger than those, which are attributable to particular objects that we regard as absent.

PROP. VII. Emotions that are triggered or come from reasoning, when we consider time, are stronger than those that are linked to specific objects we see as absent.

Proof.—We do not regard a thing as absent, by reason of the emotion wherewith we conceive it, but by reason of the body, being affected by another emotion excluding the existence of the said thing (II. xvii.). Wherefore, the emotion, which is referred to the thing which we regard as absent, is not of a nature to overcome the rest of a man's activities and power (IV. vi.), but is, on the contrary, of a nature to be in some sort controlled by the emotions, which exclude the existence of its external cause (IV. ix.). But an emotion which springs from reason is necessarily referred to the common properties of things (see the def. of reason in II. xl. note. ii.), which we always regard as present (for there can be nothing to exclude their present existence), and which we always conceive in the same manner (II. xxxviii.). Wherefore an emotion of this kind always remains the same; and consequently (V. Ax. i.) emotions, which are contrary thereto and are not kept going by their external causes, will be obliged to adapt themselves to it more and more, until they are no longer contrary to it; to this extent the emotion which springs from reason is more powerful. Q.E.D.

Proof.—We don’t think of something as absent because of the emotion we associate with it, but because the body is influenced by a different emotion that dismisses the existence of that thing (II. xvii.). Therefore, the emotion connected to the thing we see as absent doesn’t overpower a person’s other activities and abilities (IV. vi.), but instead can be somewhat controlled by the emotions that deny its external cause (IV. ix.). However, an emotion that comes from reason is necessarily linked to the common features of things (see the def. of reason in II. xl. note. ii.), which we always see as present (since nothing can negate their current existence), and we perceive them consistently (II. xxxviii.). Thus, this type of emotion remains constant; consequently (V. Ax. i.), emotions that contrast with it and are not sustained by their external causes will have to adjust to it more and more until they are no longer in conflict with it; to this degree, the emotion arising from reason is more powerful. Q.E.D.

PROP. VIII. An emotion is stronger in proportion to the number of simultaneous concurrent causes whereby it is aroused.

PROP. VIII. An emotion is stronger based on the number of simultaneous causes that trigger it.

Proof.—Many simultaneous causes are more powerful than a few (III. vii.): therefore (IV. v.), in proportion to the increased number of simultaneous causes whereby it is aroused, an emotion becomes stronger. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Many simultaneous causes are stronger than just a few (III. vii.): therefore (IV. v.), as the number of simultaneous causes that trigger it increases, an emotion becomes stronger. Q.E.D.

Note—This proposition is also evident from V. Ax. ii.

Note—This statement is also clear from V. Ax. ii.

PROP. IX. An emotion, which is attributable to many and diverse causes which the mind regards as simultaneous with the emotion itself, is less hurtful, and we are less subject thereto and less affected towards each of its causes, than if it were a different and equally powerful emotion attributable to fewer causes or to a single cause.

PROP. IX. An emotion that is linked to many different causes, which the mind sees as happening at the same time as the emotion itself, is less damaging. We are less overwhelmed by it and less affected by each of its causes compared to if it were a different, equally strong emotion connected to fewer causes or just one cause.

Proof.—An emotion is only bad or hurtful, in so far as it hinders the mind from being able to think (IV. xxvi. xxvii.); therefore, an emotion, whereby the mind is determined to the contemplation of several things at once, is less hurtful than another equally powerful emotion, which so engrosses the mind in the single contemplation of a few objects or of one, that it is unable to think of anything else; this was our first point. Again, as the mind's essence, in other words, its power (III. vii.), consists solely in thought (II. xi.), the mind is less passive in respect to an emotion, which causes it to think of several things at once, than in regard to an equally strong emotion, which keeps it engrossed in the contemplation of a few or of a single object: this was our second point. Lastly, this emotion (III. xlviii.), in so far as it is attributable to several causes, is less powerful in regard to each of them. Q.E.D.

Proof.—An emotion is only harmful or damaging to the extent that it prevents the mind from being able to think (IV. xxvi. xxvii.); therefore, an emotion that leads the mind to consider multiple things at once is less damaging than another equally strong emotion that completely traps the mind in focusing on a few objects or just one, making it unable to think about anything else; this was our first point. Additionally, since the essence of the mind, or its power (III. vii.), consists solely in thought (II. xi.), the mind is less passive regarding an emotion that prompts it to think of multiple things at once compared to an equally strong emotion that keeps it absorbed in contemplating a few or just one object: this was our second point. Lastly, this emotion (III. xlviii.), as it relates to several causes, is less intense when it comes to each of them. Q.E.D.

PROP. X. So long as we are not assailed by emotions contrary to our nature, we have the power of arranging and associating the modifications of our body according to the intellectual order.

PROP. X. As long as we aren't attacked by emotions that go against our nature, we have the ability to organize and connect the changes in our body according to our reasoning.

Proof.—The emotions, which are contrary to our nature, that is (IV. xxx.), which are bad, are bad in so far as they impede the mind from understanding (IV. xxvii.). So long, therefore, as we are not assailed by emotions contrary to our nature, the mind's power, whereby it endeavours to understand things (IV. xxvi.), is not impeded, and therefore it is able to form clear and distinct ideas and to deduce them one from another (II. xl. note. ii. and II. xlvii. note); consequently we have in such cases the power of arranging and associating the modifications of the body according to the intellectual order. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The emotions that go against our nature, meaning (IV. xxx.), that are negative, are harmful to the extent that they prevent the mind from understanding (IV. xxvii.). As long as we are not overwhelmed by emotions that contradict our nature, the mind's ability to seek understanding (IV. xxvi.) is not hindered. Therefore, it can create clear and distinct ideas and link them to one another (II. xl. note. ii. and II. xlvii. note); as a result, we can organize and connect the changes in our body according to an intellectual framework. Q.E.D.

Note.—By this power of rightly arranging and associating the bodily modifications we can guard ourselves from being easily affected by evil emotions. For (V. vii.) a greater force is needed for controlling the emotions, when they are arranged and associated according to the intellectual order, than when they, are uncertain and unsettled. The best we can do, therefore, so long as we do not possess a perfect knowledge of our emotions, is to frame a system of right conduct, or fixed practical precepts, to commit it to memory, and to apply it forthwith[16] to the particular circumstances which now and again meet us in life, so that our imagination may become fully imbued therewith, and that it may be always ready to our hand. For instance, we have laid down among the rules of life (IV. xlvi. and note), that hatred should be overcome with love or high—mindedness, and not required with hatred in return. Now, that this precept of reason may be always ready to our hand in time of need, we should often think over and reflect upon the wrongs generally committed by men, and in what manner and way they may be best warded off by high—mindedness: we shall thus associate the idea of wrong with the idea of this precept, which accordingly will always be ready for use when a wrong is done to us (II. xviii.). If we keep also in readiness the notion of our true advantage, and of the good which follows from mutual friendships, and common fellowships; further, if we remember that complete acquiescence is the result of the right way of life ( IV. lii.), and that men, no less than everything else, act by the necessity of their nature: in such case I say the wrong, or the hatred, which commonly arises therefrom, will engross a very small part of our imagination and will be easily overcome; or, if the anger which springs from a grievous wrong be not overcome easily, it will nevertheless be overcome, though not without a spiritual conflict, far sooner than if we had not thus reflected on the subject beforehand. As is indeed evident from V. vi. vii. viii. We should, in the same way, reflect on courage as a means of overcoming fear; the ordinary dangers of life should frequently be brought to mind and imagined, together with the means whereby through readiness of resource and strength of mind we can avoid and overcome them. But we must note, that in arranging our thoughts and conceptions we should always bear in mind that which is good in every individual thing (IV. lxiii. Coroll. and III. lix.), in order that we may always be determined to action by an emotion of pleasure. For instance, if a man sees that he is too keen in the pursuit of honour, let him think over its right use, the end for which it should be pursued, and the means whereby he may attain it. Let him not think of its misuse, and its emptiness, and the fickleness of mankind, and the like, whereof no man thinks except through a morbidness of disposition; with thoughts like these do the most ambitious most torment themselves, when they despair of gaining the distinctions they hanker after, and in thus giving vent to their anger would fain appear wise. Wherefore it is certain that those, who cry out the loudest against the misuse of honour and the vanity of the world, are those who most greedily covet it. This is not peculiar to the ambitious, but is common to all who are ill—used by fortune, and who are infirm in spirit. For a poor man also, who is miserly, will talk incessantly of the misuse of wealth and of the vices of the rich; whereby he merely torments himself, and shows the world that he is intolerant, not only of his own poverty, but also of other people's riches. So, again, those who have been ill received by a woman they love think of nothing but the inconstancy, treachery, and other stock faults of the fair sex; all of which they consign to oblivion, directly they are again taken into favour by their sweetheart. Thus he who would govern his emotions and appetite solely by the love of freedom strives, as far as he can, to gain a knowledge of the virtues and their causes, and to fill his spirit with the joy which arises from the true knowledge of them: he will in no wise desire to dwell on men's faults, or to carp at his fellows, or to revel in a false show of freedom. Whosoever will diligently observe and practise these precepts (which indeed are not difficult) will verily, in a short space of time, be able, for the most part, to direct his actions according to the commandments of reason.

Note.—By skillfully organizing and connecting our bodily changes, we can protect ourselves from being easily swayed by negative emotions. Because (V. vii.) it takes more effort to manage emotions when they are ordered and connected logically than when they are chaotic and unpredictable. Therefore, as long as we lack perfect insight into our emotions, the best we can do is establish a system of proper behavior, or solid practical guidelines, commit it to memory, and immediately apply it to the specific situations we encounter in life so that our imagination becomes fully engaged with it and always ready to use. For instance, we have established in our life guidelines (IV. xlvi. and note) that hatred should be countered with love or nobility, not returned with hatred. To keep this principle readily available in times of need, we should regularly reflect on the wrongs people typically commit and consider how to best respond with nobility: this way, we'll connect the idea of wrong with our precept, which will then be at our disposal when we experience a wrong done to us (II. xviii.). If we also prepare the notion of our genuine advantage and the benefits that come from mutual friendships and shared experiences; in addition, if we remember that complete acceptance comes from living rightly (IV. lii.), and that people, just like everything else, act out of necessity: then, I assert, the wrong or hatred usually resulting will occupy only a small part of our mind and will be easy to overcome; or even if the anger from a serious wrong is not easily surmountable, it will still be overcome, albeit with some inner struggle, much sooner than if we hadn’t reflected on these matters in advance. This is indeed clear from V. vi. vii. viii. We should also reflect on courage as a way to conquer fear; we ought to frequently ponder the common dangers of life and the methods through which we can skillfully avoid and confront them. However, we must remember that while structuring our thoughts and ideas, we should always focus on the positive aspects of each individual thing (IV. lxiii. Coroll. and III. lix.), so that we are always motivated to act by feelings of pleasure. For instance, if someone realizes they are too intense in pursuing honor, they should contemplate its proper use, the purpose for which it should be sought, and the means through which it can be achieved. They should avoid dwelling on its misuse, emptiness, and the fickleness of people, which no one thinks about except out of a sour disposition; such thoughts often torment the most ambitious when they despair of gaining the recognition they crave and, in expressing their anger, try to appear wise. Therefore, it's clear that those who complain the loudest about the misuse of honor and the vanity of the world are often the ones who desire it the most. This isn’t exclusive to the ambitious but is common among all those mistreated by luck and weak in spirit. Even a poor, stingy person will endlessly lament the misuse of wealth and the vices of the rich; in doing so, they only torment themselves, revealing their intolerance not just of their own poverty but of others’ riches. Similarly, those who have been poorly treated by a beloved woman tend to think solely of the fickleness, treachery, and other typical faults of the fairer sex; all of which they forget as soon as their sweetheart reconciles with them. Thus, one who wishes to govern their emotions and desires solely through the love of freedom strives, as much as possible, to acquire knowledge of virtues and their causes, filling their spirit with the happiness that comes from truly understanding them: they will not wish to fixate on people’s faults, find fault with their peers, or indulge in a false sense of freedom. Anyone who diligently observes and practices these principles (which are certainly not difficult) will indeed, in a short time, be able to mostly align their actions with the commands of reason.

[16] Continuo. Rendered "constantly" by Mr. Pollock on the ground that the classical meaning of the word does not suit the context.

[16] Continuo. Translated as "constantly" by Mr. Pollock because the classical meaning of the word doesn't fit the context.


PROP. XI. In proportion as a mental image is referred to more objects, so is it more frequent, or more often vivid, and occupies the mind more.

PROP. XI. The more a mental image is associated with various objects, the more frequently it appears, or the more vivid it is, and the more it occupies the mind.

Proof.—In proportion as a mental image or an emotion is referred to more objects, so are there more causes whereby it can be aroused and fostered, all of which (by hypothesis) the mind contemplates simultaneously in association with the given emotion; therefore the emotion is more frequent, or is more often in full vigour, and (V. viii.) occupies the mind more. Q.E.D.

Proof.—As a mental image or an emotion is connected to more objects, there are more reasons for it to be triggered and nurtured, all of which (by assumption) the mind considers at the same time in relation to the given emotion; thus, the emotion occurs more frequently, or is often more intense, and (V. viii.) occupies the mind more. Q.E.D.

PROP. XII. The mental images of things are more easily associated with the images referred to things which we clearly and distinctly understand, than with others.

PROP. XII. The mental images of things are more easily linked with the images of things we clearly and distinctly understand than with others.

Proof.—Things, which we clearly and distinctly understand, are either the common properties of things or deductions therefrom (see definition of Reason, II. xl. note ii.), and are consequently (by the last Prop.) more often aroused in us. Wherefore it may more readily happen, that we should contemplate other things in conjunction with these than in conjunction with something else, and consequently (II. xviii.) that the images of the said things should be more often associated with the images of these than with the images of something else. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Things that we clearly and distinctly understand are either the common traits of things or conclusions drawn from them (see definition of Reason, II. xl. note ii.), and are therefore (by the last Prop.) more frequently stirred in us. This means that we might more easily think about other things alongside these than alongside something else, and consequently (II. xviii.) the images of these things are more often linked with the images of these than with the images of something different. Q.E.D.

PROP. XIII. A mental image is more often vivid, in proportion as it is associated with a greater number of other images.

PROP. XIII. A mental image is usually more vivid as it is connected to a greater number of other images.

Proof.—In proportion as an image is associated with a greater number of other images, so (II. xviii.) are there more causes whereby it can be aroused. Q.E.D.

Proof.—As an image is linked to more images, there are more reasons (II. xviii.) for it to be triggered. Q.E.D.

PROP. XIV. The mind can bring it about, that all bodily modifications or images of things may be referred to the idea of God.

PROP. XIV. The mind can make it so that all physical changes or images of things can be connected to the idea of God.

Proof.—There is no modification of the body, whereof the mind may not form some clear and distinct conception (V. iv.); wherefore it can bring it about, that they should all be referred to the idea of God (I. xv.). Q.E.D.

Proof.—There is no change in the body that the mind can’t form a clear and distinct idea of (V. iv.); therefore, it can lead to the conclusion that they should all be connected to the idea of God (I. xv.). Q.E.D.

PROP. XV. He who clearly and distinctly understands himself and his emotions loves God, and so much the more in proportion as he more understands himself and his emotions.

PROP. XV. He who clearly and distinctly understands himself and his feelings loves God, and this love increases in proportion to how well he understands himself and his feelings.

Proof.—He who clearly and distinctly understands himself and his emotions feels pleasure (III. liii.), and this pleasure is (by the last Prop.) accompanied by the idea of God; therefore (Def. of the Emotions, vi.) such an one loves God, and (for the same reason) so much the more in proportion as he more understands himself and his emotions. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Someone who clearly and distinctly understands themselves and their emotions feels pleasure (III. liii.), and this pleasure is (by the last Prop.) accompanied by the idea of God; therefore (Def. of the Emotions, vi.) this person loves God, and (for the same reason) loves Him even more as they better understand themselves and their emotions. Q.E.D.

PROP. XVI. This love towards God must hold the chief place in the mind.

PROP. XVI. This love for God must be the top priority in the mind.

Proof.—For this love is associated with all the modifications of the body (V. xiv.) and is fostered by them all (V. xv.); therefore (V. xi.), it must hold the chief place in the mind. Q.E.D.

Proof.—This love is linked to all the changes of the body (V. xiv.) and is supported by all of them (V. xv.); therefore (V. xi.), it must occupy the top position in the mind. Q.E.D.

PROP. XVII. God is without passions, neither is he affected by any emotion of pleasure or pain.

PROP. XVII. God is without feelings and is not influenced by any emotion of pleasure or pain.

Proof.—All ideas, in so far as they are referred to God, are true (II. xxxii.), that is (II. Def. iv.) adequate; and therefore (by the general Def. of the Emotions) God is without passions. Again, God cannot pass either to a greater or to a lesser perfection (I. xx. Coroll. ii.); therefore (by Def. of the Emotions, ii. iii.) he is not affected by any emotion of pleasure or pain.

Proof.—All ideas that relate to God are true (II. xxxii.), which means (II. Def. iv.) they are adequate; therefore (according to the general Def. of the Emotions) God has no passions. Again, God cannot move to a greater or lesser perfection (I. xx. Coroll. ii.); therefore (based on the Def. of the Emotions, ii. iii.) He is not influenced by any feelings of pleasure or pain.

Corollary.—Strictly speaking, God does not love or hate anyone. For God (by the foregoing Prop.) is not affected by any emotion of pleasure or pain, consequently (Def. of the Emotions, vi. vii.) he does not love or hate anyone.

Corollary — To be precise, God neither loves nor hates anyone. Since God (as stated in the previous proposition) is not influenced by any feelings of pleasure or pain, he does not love or hate anyone.

PROP. XVIII. No one can hate God.

PROP. XVIII. No one can hate God.

Proof.—The idea of God which is in us is adequate and perfect (II. xlvi. xlvii.); wherefore, in so far as we contemplate God, we are active (III. iii.); consequently (III. lix.) there can be no pain accompanied by the idea of God, in other words (Def. of the Emotions, vii.), no one can hate God. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The concept of God that exists within us is complete and perfect (II. xlvi. xlvii.); therefore, as we think about God, we are engaged (III. iii.); as a result (III. lix.), there cannot be any pain associated with the idea of God; in other words (Def. of the Emotions, vii.), no one can hate God. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Love towards God cannot be turned into hate.

Corollary.—Love for God cannot become hate.

Note.—It may be objected that, as we understand God as the cause of all things, we by that very fact regard God as the cause of pain. But I make answer, that, in so far as we understand the causes of pain, it to that extent (V. iii.) ceases to be a passion, that is, it ceases to be pain (III. lix.); therefore, in so far as we understand God to be the cause of pain, we to that extent feel pleasure.

Note.—It might be argued that since we view God as the cause of everything, we are, by that logic, seeing God as the cause of pain. However, I respond that as we understand the causes of pain, it gradually stops being a passion, meaning it stops being pain; therefore, to the extent that we see God as the cause of pain, we also experience pleasure.

PROP. XIX. He, who loves God, cannot endeavour that God should love him in return.

PROP. XIX. Someone who loves God cannot try to make God love them back.

Proof.—For, if a man should so endeavour, he would desire (V. xvii. Coroll.) that God, whom he loves, should not be God, and consequently he would desire to feel pain (III. xix.); which is absurd (III. xxviii.). Therefore, he who loves God, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—For, if a person were to try, they would want (V. xvii. Coroll.) that God, whom they love, should not be God, and as a result, they would want to experience pain (III. xix.); which is ridiculous (III. xxviii.). Therefore, anyone who loves God, etc. Q.E.D.

PROP. XX. This love towards God cannot be stained by the emotion of envy or jealousy: contrariwise, it is the more fostered, in proportion as we conceive a greater number of men to be joined to God by the same bond of love.

PROP. XX. This love for God can't be tainted by feelings of envy or jealousy; on the contrary, it grows stronger the more we see others connected to God through the same bond of love.

Proof.—This love towards God is the highest good which we can seek for under the guidance of reason (IV. xxviii.), it is common to all men (IV. xxxvi.), and we desire that all should rejoice therein (IV. xxxvii.); therefore (Def. of the Emotions, xxiii.), it cannot be stained by the emotion envy, nor by the emotion of jealousy (V. xviii. see definition of Jealousy, III. xxxv. note); but, contrariwise, it must needs be the more fostered, in proportion as we conceive a greater number of men to rejoice therein. Q.E.D.

Proof.—This love for God is the highest good we can pursue with the guidance of reason (IV. xxviii.), it is shared by everyone (IV. xxxvi.), and we want everyone to take joy in it (IV. xxxvii.); therefore (Def. of the Emotions, xxiii.), it can’t be tainted by the feelings of envy or jealousy (V. xviii. see definition of Jealousy, III. xxxv. note); instead, it should be nurtured even more as we imagine more people finding joy in it. Q.E.D.

Note.—We can in the same way show, that there is no emotion directly contrary to this love, whereby this love can be destroyed; therefore we may conclude, that this love towards God is the most constant of all the emotions, and that, in so far as it is referred to the body, it cannot be destroyed, unless the body be destroyed also. As to its nature, in so far as it is referred to the mind only, we shall presently inquire.

Note.—We can similarly demonstrate that there is no emotion that directly opposes this love, which means this love cannot be destroyed; therefore, we can conclude that this love for God is the most steadfast of all emotions, and as far as it relates to the body, it cannot be destroyed unless the body is also destroyed. As for its nature, regarding the mind only, we will examine that shortly.

I have now gone through all the remedies against the emotions, or all that the mind, considered in itself alone, can do against them. Whence it appears that the mind's power over the emotions consists:——

I have now looked at all the ways to deal with emotions, or everything the mind, on its own, can do about them. From this, it seems that the mind's control over emotions consists of:——

I. In the actual knowledge of the emotions (V. iv. note).

I. In the real understanding of emotions (V. iv. note).

II. In the fact that it separates the emotions from the thought of an external cause, which we conceive confusedly (V. ii. and V. iv. note).

II. It separates emotions from the thought of an external cause, which we understand vaguely (V. ii. and V. iv. note).

III. In the fact, that, in respect to time, the emotions referred to things, which we distinctly understand, surpass those referred to what we conceive in a confused and fragmentary manner (V. vii.).

III. The fact is that, in terms of time, emotions related to things we clearly understand are stronger than those related to things we see in a confused and fragmented way (V. vii.).

IV. In the number of causes whereby those modifications[17] are fostered, which have regard to the common properties of things or to God (V. ix. xi.).

IV. In the various reasons that promote those changes[17] related to the common characteristics of things or to God (V. ix. xi.).

[17] Affectiones. Camerer reads affectus——emotions.

Emotions. Camerer reads affectus.


V. Lastly, in the order wherein the mind can arrange and associate, one with another, its own emotions (V. x. note and xii. xiii. xiv.).

V. Lastly, in the way that the mind can organize and connect its own feelings with one another (V. x. note and xii. xiii. xiv.).

But, in order that this power of the mind over the emotions may be better understood, it should be specially observed that the emotions are called by us strong, when we compare the emotion of one man with the emotion of another, and see that one man is more troubled than another by the same emotion; or when we are comparing the various emotions of the same man one with another, and find that he is more affected or stirred by one emotion than by another. For the strength of every emotion is defined by a comparison of our own power with the power of an external cause. Now the power of the mind is defined by knowledge only, and its infirmity or passion is defined by the privation of knowledge only: it therefore follows, that that mind is most passive, whose greatest part is made up of inadequate ideas, so that it may be characterized more readily by its passive states than by its activities: on the other hand, that mind is most active, whose greatest part is made up of adequate ideas, so that, although it may contain as many inadequate ideas as the former mind, it may yet be more easily characterized by ideas attributable to human virtue, than by ideas which tell of human infirmity. Again, it must be observed, that spiritual unhealthiness and misfortunes can generally be traced to excessive love for something which is subject to many variations, and which we can never become masters of. For no one is solicitous or anxious about anything, unless he loves it; neither do wrongs, suspicions, enmities, &c. arise, except in regard to things whereof no one can be really master.

But to better understand how the mind influences emotions, we should note that we consider emotions strong when we compare one person's feelings to another's and see that one person is more affected by the same feeling; or when we compare different emotions within the same person and find that they are more impacted by one emotion than another. The strength of each emotion is determined by how our own capabilities measure up against an outside cause. The mind's power is defined solely by knowledge, while its weakness or passion stems solely from a lack of knowledge. This means that a mind is most passive when it mainly consists of inadequate ideas, making it more easily identified by its passive states rather than its activities. Conversely, a mind is most active when it predominantly contains adequate ideas, so that even if it holds as many inadequate ideas as the passive mind, it can still be more clearly defined by ideas associated with human virtue rather than those that reflect human weaknesses. Additionally, we should note that spiritual distress and misfortunes are often linked to an excessive love for things that are subject to many changes, which we can never truly control. No one feels concern or anxiety about something unless they love it, and wrongs, suspicions, enmities, etc., only arise in relation to things that no one can fully master.

We may thus readily conceive the power which clear and distinct knowledge, and especially that third kind of knowledge (II. xlvii. note), founded on the actual knowledge of God, possesses over the emotions: if it does not absolutely destroy them, in so far as they are passions (V. iii. and iv. note); at any rate, it causes them to occupy a very small part of the mind (V. xiv.). Further, it begets a love towards a thing immutable and eternal (V. xv.), whereof we may really enter into possession (II. xlv.); neither can it be defiled with those faults which are inherent in ordinary love; but it may grow from strength to strength, and may engross the greater part of the mind, and deeply penetrate it.

We can easily understand the power that clear and distinct knowledge—especially the third type of knowledge (II. xlvii. note), based on the actual knowledge of God—has over our emotions. While it might not completely eliminate our passions (V. iii. and iv. note), it definitely reduces their influence on our minds (V. xiv.). Additionally, it inspires a love for something unchanging and eternal (V. xv.) that we can genuinely possess (II. xlv.). This love isn’t tainted by the flaws found in ordinary love; instead, it can grow stronger over time, occupying a significant part of our minds and deeply affecting us.

And now I have finished with all that concerns this present life: for, as I said in the beginning of this note, I have briefly described all the remedies against the emotions. And this everyone may readily have seen for himself, if he has attended to what is advanced in the present note, and also to the definitions of the mind and its emotions, and, lastly, to Propositions i. and iii. of Part III. It is now, therefore, time to pass on to those matters, which appertain to the duration of the mind, without relation to the body.

And now I’ve wrapped up everything related to this current life: as I mentioned at the start of this note, I’ve briefly outlined all the ways to deal with emotions. Anyone can easily see this for themselves if they’ve paid attention to what’s been discussed in this note, as well as the definitions of the mind and its emotions, and finally, to Propositions i. and iii. of Part III. It’s now time to move on to topics that relate to the mind’s existence, independent of the body.

PROP. XXI. The mind can only imagine anything, or remember what is past, while the body endures.

PROP. XXI. The mind can only think of things or remember what has happened as long as the body lasts.

Proof.—The mind does not express the actual existence of its body, nor does it imagine the modifications of the body as actual, except while the body endures (II. viii. Coroll.); and, consequently (II. xxvi.), it does not imagine any body as actually existing, except while its own body endures. Thus it cannot imagine anything (for definition of Imagination, see II. xvii. note), or remember things past, except while the body endures (see definition of Memory, II. xviii. note). Q.E.D.

Proof.—The mind doesn’t directly reflect the actual existence of its body, nor does it perceive the changes in the body as real, except while the body lasts (II. viii. Coroll.); and, therefore (II. xxvi.), it doesn’t perceive any body as actually existing, except while its own body is alive. So, it cannot imagine anything (for the definition of Imagination, see II. xvii. note), or recall past experiences, except while the body remains intact (see the definition of Memory, II. xviii. note). Q.E.D.

PROP. XXII. Nevertheless in God there is necessarily an idea, which expresses the essence of this or that human body under the form of eternity.

PROP. XXII. Nonetheless, in God, there is necessarily an idea that expresses the essence of this or that human body in the form of eternity.

Proof.—God is the cause, not only of the existence of this or that human body, but also of its essence (I. xxv.). This essence, therefore, must necessarily be conceived through the very essence of God (I. Ax. iv.), and be thus conceived by a certain eternal necessity (I. xvi.); and this conception must necessarily exist in God (II. iii.). Q.E.D.

Proof.—God is the cause not just of this or that human body’s existence, but also of its essence (I. xxv.). This essence must, therefore, be understood through the very essence of God (I. Ax. iv.), and it must be conceived with a certain eternal necessity (I. xvi.); this conception must necessarily exist in God (II. iii.). Q.E.D.

PROP. XXIII. The human mind cannot be absolutely destroyed with the body, but there remains of it something which is eternal.

PROP. XXIII. The human mind can't be completely destroyed with the body; something about it remains eternal.

Proof.—There is necessarily in God a concept or idea, which expresses the essence of the human body (last Prop.), which, therefore, is necessarily something appertaining to the essence of the human mind (II. xiii.). But we have not assigned to the human mind any duration, definable by time, except in so far as it expresses the actual existence of the body, which is explained through duration, and may be defined by time—that is (II. viii. Coroll.), we do not assign to it duration, except while the body endures. Yet, as there is something, notwithstanding, which is conceived by a certain eternal necessity through the very essence of God (last Prop.); this something, which appertains to the essence of the mind, will necessarily be eternal. Q.E.D.

Proof.—God inherently contains a concept or idea that expresses the essence of the human body (last Prop.), which is therefore inherently linked to the essence of the human mind (II. xiii.). However, we have not given the human mind any duration, defined by time, except as it represents the actual existence of the body, which is understood through duration and can be defined by time—that is (II. viii. Coroll.), we do not attribute duration to it except while the body exists. Yet, there is something that is conceived by a certain eternal necessity through the very essence of God (last Prop.); this aspect, which relates to the essence of the mind, will necessarily be eternal. Q.E.D.

Note.—This idea, which expresses the essence of the body under the form of eternity, is, as we have said, a certain mode of thinking, which belongs to the essence of the mind, and is necessarily eternal. Yet it is not possible that we should remember that we existed before our body, for our body can bear no trace of such existence, neither can eternity be defined in terms of time, or have any relation to time. But, notwithstanding, we feel and know that we are eternal. For the mind feels those things that it conceives by understanding, no less than those things that it remembers. For the eyes of the mind, whereby it sees and observes things, are none other than proofs. Thus, although we do not remember that we existed before the body, yet we feel that our mind, in so far as it involves the essence of the body, under the form of eternity, is eternal, and that thus its existence cannot be defined in terms of time, or explained through duration. Thus our mind can only be said to endure, and its existence can only be defined by a fixed time, in so far as it involves the actual existence of the body. Thus far only has it the power of determining the existence of things by time, and conceiving them under the category of duration.

Note.—This idea, which captures the essence of the body as something eternal, is, as we mentioned, a certain way of thinking that belongs to the nature of the mind and is necessarily eternal. However, we cannot remember that we existed before our body, since our body leaves no trace of that existence, and eternity cannot be defined by time or related to it. Yet, we feel and know that we are eternal. The mind perceives things it understands just as much as it remembers things. The eyes of the mind, through which it sees and observes, are simply proofs. So, even though we don't recall existing before the body, we sense that our mind, in as much as it involves the essence of the body in an eternal way, is eternal, and thus its existence cannot be defined by time or explained through duration. Therefore, our mind can only be described as enduring, and its existence can only be understood within a fixed time, in so far as it involves the actual existence of the body. Thus, it can only determine the existence of things through time and conceive them within the framework of duration.

PROP. XXIV. The more we understand particular things, the more do we understand God.

PROP. XXIV. The more we understand individual things, the better we understand God.

Proof.—This is evident from I. xxv. Coroll.

Proof.—This is clear from I. xxv. Coroll.

PROP. XXV. The highest endeavour of the mind, and the highest virtue is to understand things by the third kind of knowledge.

PROP. XXV. The greatest effort of the mind, and the highest virtue, is to understand things through the third kind of knowledge.

Proof.—The third kind of knowledge proceeds from an adequate idea of certain attributes of God to an adequate knowledge of the essence of things (see its definition II. xl. note. ii.); and, in proportion as we understand things more in this way, we better understand God (by the last Prop.); therefore (IV. xxviii.) the highest virtue of the mind, that is (IV. Def. viii.) the power, or nature, or (III. vii.) highest endeavour of the mind, is to understand things by the third kind of knowledge. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The third type of knowledge comes from a clear understanding of certain attributes of God, leading to a clear understanding of the essence of things (see its definition II. xl. note. ii.); and as we comprehend things better this way, we understand God better (by the last Prop.); therefore (IV. xxviii.) the highest virtue of the mind—meaning (IV. Def. viii.) the power, or nature, or (III. vii.) the greatest effort of the mind—is to grasp things through the third type of knowledge. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXVI. In proportion as the mind is more capable of understanding things by the third kind of knowledge, it desires more to understand things by that kind.

PROP. XXVI. As the mind becomes better at understanding things through the third kind of knowledge, it increasingly wants to understand things in that way.

Proof—This is evident. For, in so far as we conceive the mind to be capable of conceiving things by this kind of knowledge, we, to that extent, conceive it as determined thus to conceive things; and consequently (Def. of the Emotions, i.), the mind desires so to do, in proportion as it is more capable thereof. Q.E.D.

Proof—This is clear. Because as far as we think the mind can understand things through this kind of knowledge, we understand it as being determined to understand things in this way; and therefore (Def. of the Emotions, i.), the mind wants to do this, to the extent that it is more capable of doing so. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXVII. From this third kind of knowledge arises the highest possible mental acquiescence.

PROP. XXVII. From this third type of knowledge comes the highest level of mental acceptance.

Proof.—The highest virtue of the mind is to know God (IV. xxviii.), or to understand things by the third kind of knowledge (V. xxv.), and this virtue is greater in proportion as the mind knows things more by the said kind of knowledge (V. xxiv.): consequently, he who knows things by this kind of knowledge passes to the summit of human perfection, and is therefore (Def. of the Emotions, ii.) affected by the highest pleasure, such pleasure being accompanied by the idea of himself and his own virtue; thus (Def. of the Emotions, xxv.), from this kind of knowledge arises the highest possible acquiescence. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The greatest virtue of the mind is to know God (IV. xxviii.), or to understand things through a higher level of knowledge (V. xxv.), and this virtue increases as the mind comprehends things more through this kind of understanding (V. xxiv.): therefore, the person who knows things through this type of knowledge reaches the peak of human perfection and experiences (Def. of the Emotions, ii.) the greatest pleasure, which is tied to the awareness of themselves and their own virtue; thus (Def. of the Emotions, xxv.), from this kind of knowledge comes the highest possible satisfaction. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXVIII. The endeavour or desire to know things by the third kind of knowledge cannot arise from the first, but from the second kind of knowledge.

PROP. XXVIII. The effort or desire to understand things through the third type of knowledge can't come from the first type, but from the second type of knowledge.

Proof.—This proposition is self—evident. For whatsoever we understand clearly and distinctly, we understand either through itself, or through that which is conceived through itself; that is, ideas which are clear and distinct in us, or which are referred to the third kind of knowledge (II. xl. note. ii.) cannot follow from ideas that are fragmentary and confused, and are referred to knowledge of the first kind, but must follow from adequate ideas, or ideas of the second and third kind of knowledge; therefore (Def. of the Emotions, i.), the desire of knowing things by the third kind of knowledge cannot arise from the first, but from the second kind. Q.E.D.

Proof.—This statement is obvious. For everything we understand clearly and distinctly, we either understand it by itself or through what is conceived from it; that is, ideas that are clear and distinct to us, or those that relate to the third kind of knowledge (II. xl. note. ii.) cannot come from ideas that are fragmented and confused, which relate to the first kind of knowledge, but must come from adequate ideas or ideas from the second and third kinds of knowledge; therefore (Def. of the Emotions, i.), the desire to know things by the third kind of knowledge cannot arise from the first kind, but from the second kind. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXIX. Whatsoever the mind understands under the form of eternity, it does not understand by virtue of conceiving the present actual existence of the body, but by virtue of conceiving the essence of the body under the form of eternity.

PROP. XXIX. Whatever the mind understands in the context of eternity, it doesn't understand by recognizing the current actual existence of the body, but by understanding the essence of the body in terms of eternity.

Proof.—In so far as the mind conceives the present existence of its body, it to that extent conceives duration which can be determined by time, and to that extent only has it the power of conceiving things in relation to time (V. xxi. II. xxvi.). But eternity cannot be explained in terms of duration (I. Def. viii. and explanation). Therefore to this extent the mind has not the power of conceiving things under the form of eternity, but it possesses such power, because it is of the nature of reason to conceive things under the form of eternity (II. xliv. Coroll. ii.), and also because it is of the nature of the mind to conceive the essence of the body under the form of eternity (V. xxiii.), for besides these two there is nothing which belongs to the essence of mind (II. xiii.). Therefore this power of conceiving things under the form of eternity only belongs to the mind in virtue of the mind's conceiving the essence of the body under the form of eternity. Q.E.D.

Proof.—As far as the mind perceives the current existence of its body, it also perceives duration, which can be measured in time, and only to that extent does it have the ability to understand things in relation to time (V. xxi. II. xxvi.). However, eternity can't be explained in terms of duration (I. Def. viii. and explanation). Therefore, to that extent, the mind does not have the ability to understand things in the context of eternity, but it can do so because it is inherent to reason to comprehend things in terms of eternity (II. xliv. Coroll. ii.), and also because it's natural for the mind to understand the essence of the body in the context of eternity (V. xxiii.), since besides these two, nothing else pertains to the essence of the mind (II. xiii.). Thus, this ability to understand things in the context of eternity belongs to the mind solely because it understands the essence of the body in that context. Q.E.D.

Note.—Things are conceived by us as actual in two ways; either as existing in relation to a given time and place, or as contained in God and following from the necessity of the divine nature. Whatsoever we conceive in this second way as true or real, we conceive under the form of eternity, and their ideas involve the eternal and infinite essence of God, as we showed in II. xlv. and note, which see.

Note.—We understand things as real in two ways: either as existing in relation to a specific time and place, or as contained within God and arising from the necessity of divine nature. Whatever we understand in this second way as true or real, we perceive it in the form of eternity, and these ideas involve the eternal and infinite essence of God, as we discussed in II. xlv. and note, which see.

PROP. XXX. Our mind, in so far as it knows itself and the body under the form of eternity, has to that extent necessarily a knowledge of God, and knows that it is in God, and is conceived through God.

PROP. XXX. Our mind, to the extent that it knows itself and the body in the context of eternity, necessarily has an understanding of God, knows that it exists in God, and is conceived through God.

Proof.—Eternity is the very essence of God, in so far as this involves necessary existence (I. Def. viii.). Therefore to conceive things under the form of eternity, is to conceive things in so far as they are conceived through the essence of God as real entities, or in so far as they involve existence through the essence of God; wherefore our mind, in so far as it conceives itself and the body under the form of eternity, has to that extent necessarily a knowledge of God, and knows, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Eternity is the fundamental nature of God because it involves necessary existence (I. Def. viii.). So, to understand things in terms of eternity is to understand them as they are seen through God's essence as real entities, or as they involve existence through God's essence. Therefore, our mind, when it understands itself and the body in terms of eternity, necessarily has a knowledge of God and understands, etc. Q.E.D.

PROP. XXXI. The third kind of knowledge depends on the mind, as its formal cause, in so far as the mind itself is eternal.

PROP. XXXI. The third type of knowledge relies on the mind as its main source, given that the mind itself is eternal.

Proof.—The mind does not conceive anything under the form of eternity, except in so far as it conceives its own body under the form of eternity (V. xxix.); that is, except in so far as it is eternal (V. xxi. xxiii.); therefore (by the last Prop.), in so far as it is eternal, it possesses the knowledge of God, which knowledge is necessarily adequate (II. xlvi.); hence the mind, in so far as it is eternal, is capable of knowing everything which can follow from this given knowledge of God (II. xl.), in other words, of knowing things by the third kind of knowledge (see Def. in II. xl. note. ii.), whereof accordingly the mind (III. Def. i.), in so far as it is eternal, is the adequate or formal cause of such knowledge. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The mind only understands anything in terms of eternity to the extent that it perceives its own body as eternal; that is, to the extent that it is eternal. Therefore (by the last Proposition), to the extent that it is eternal, it has knowledge of God, which knowledge is necessarily complete. Hence, the mind, in as much as it is eternal, is capable of knowing everything that can come from this specific knowledge of God, in other words, knowing things through the third kind of knowledge (see Definition in note II. xl. ii.), of which the mind, as it is eternal, is the adequate or formal cause of that knowledge. Q.E.D.

Note.—In proportion, therefore, as a man is more potent in this kind of knowledge, he will be more completely conscious of himself and of God; in other words, he will be more perfect and blessed, as will appear more clearly in the sequel. But we must here observe that, although we are already certain that the mind is eternal, in so far as it conceives things under the form of eternity, yet, in order that what we wish to show may be more readily explained and better understood, we will consider the mind itself, as though it had just begun to exist and to understand things under the form of eternity, as indeed we have done hitherto; this we may do without any danger of error, so long as we are careful not to draw any conclusion, unless our premisses are plain.

Note.—As a person becomes more skilled in this type of knowledge, they will have a greater awareness of themselves and of God; in other words, they will be more perfect and blessed, as will become clearer later on. However, we should point out that, although we are already confident that the mind is eternal, because it perceives things in the context of eternity, for the sake of clearer explanation and understanding of our argument, we will treat the mind as if it has just begun to exist and understand things in the context of eternity, as we have done so far; we can do this without risking error, as long as we are careful not to draw any conclusions unless our premises are clear.

PROP. XXXII. Whatsoever we understand by the third kind of knowledge, we take delight in, and our delight is accompanied by the idea of God as cause.

PROP. XXXII. Whatever we understand by the third kind of knowledge, we find joy in, and our joy is accompanied by the idea of God as the cause.

Proof.—From this kind of knowledge arises the highest possible mental acquiescence, that is (Def of the Emotions, xxv.), pleasure, and this acquiescence is accompanied by the idea of the mind itself (V. xxvii.), and consequently (V. xxx.) the idea also of God as cause. Q.E.D.

Proof.—From this type of knowledge comes the highest level of mental acceptance, which is pleasure (Def of the Emotions, xxv.), and this acceptance includes the idea of the mind itself (V. xxvii.), and therefore (V. xxx.) the idea of God as the cause. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—From the third kind of knowledge necessarily arises the intellectual love of God. From this kind of knowledge arises pleasure accompanied by the idea of God as cause, that is (Def. of the Emotions, vi.), the love of God; not in so far as we imagine him as present (V. xxix.), but in so far as we understand him to be eternal; this is what I call the intellectual love of God.

Corollary.—From the third type of knowledge, the intellectual love of God naturally emerges. This type of knowledge brings pleasure along with the understanding of God as the cause, which is defined as the love of God; not in the sense that we visualize Him as present, but in the sense that we comprehend Him as eternal. This is what I refer to as the intellectual love of God.

PROP. XXXIII. The intellectual love of God, which arises from the third kind of knowledge, is eternal.

PROP. XXXIII. The intellectual love of God, which comes from the third type of knowledge, is eternal.

Proof.—The third kind of knowledge is eternal (V. xxxi. I. Ax. iii.); therefore (by the same Axiom) the love which arises therefrom is also necessarily eternal. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The third type of knowledge is eternal (V. xxxi. I. Ax. iii.); therefore (according to the same Axiom) the love that comes from it is also necessarily eternal. Q.E.D.

Note.—Although this love towards God has (by the foregoing Prop.) no beginning, it yet possesses all the perfections of love, just as though it had arisen as we feigned in the Coroll. of the last Prop. Nor is there here any difference, except that the mind possesses as eternal those same perfections which we feigned to accrue to it, and they are accompanied by the idea of God as eternal cause. If pleasure consists in the transition to a greater perfection, assuredly blessedness must consist in the mind being endowed with perfection itself.

Note.—Even though this love for God has (as shown in the previous Proposition) no beginning, it still has all the qualities of love, just as if it had come into being as we imagined in the Corollary of the last Proposition. The only difference here is that the mind inherently possesses those same qualities, which we imagined to develop over time, and these qualities are accompanied by the idea of God as the eternal cause. If pleasure comes from moving toward a greater perfection, then blessedness must consist of the mind being filled with perfection itself.

PROP. XXXIV. The mind is, only while the body endures, subject to those emotions which are attributable to passions.

PROP. XXXIV. The mind is only subject to the emotions tied to passions as long as the body lasts.

Proof.—Imagination is the idea wherewith the mind contemplates a thing as present (II. xvii. note); yet this idea indicates rather the present disposition of the human body than the nature of the external thing (II. xvi. Coroll. ii.). Therefore emotion (see general Def. of Emotions) is imagination, in so far as it indicates the present disposition of the body; therefore (V. xxi.) the mind is, only while the body endures, subject to emotions which are attributable to passions. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Imagination is the concept that allows the mind to consider something as if it’s happening right now (II. xvii. note); however, this concept reflects more about the current state of the human body than about the actual nature of the external object (II. xvi. Coroll. ii.). Therefore, emotion (see general Def. of Emotions) is imagination, as it reflects the current state of the body; thus (V. xxi.) the mind is, only while the body exists, influenced by emotions that are linked to passions. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Hence it follows that no love save intellectual love is eternal.

Corollary.—So, it follows that no love except for intellectual love is eternal.

Note.—If we look to men's general opinion, we shall see that they are indeed conscious of the eternity of their mind, but that they confuse eternity with duration, and ascribe it to the imagination or the memory which they believe to remain after death.

Note.—If we consider what people generally think, we can see that they are aware of the everlasting nature of their mind, but they mix up eternity with mere duration, attributing it to the imagination or memories they believe persist after death.

PROP. XXXV. God loves himself with an infinite intellectual love.

PROP. XXXV. God loves himself with an infinite intellectual love.

Proof.—God is absolutely infinite (I. Def. vi.), that is (II. Def. vi.), the nature of God rejoices in infinite perfection; and such rejoicing is (II. iii.) accompanied by the idea of himself, that is (I. xi. and Def. i.), the idea of his own cause: now this is what we have (in V. xxxii. Coroll.) described as intellectual love.

Proof.—God is completely infinite (I. Def. vi.), meaning (II. Def. vi.) that the nature of God delights in infinite perfection; and this delight is (II. iii.) accompanied by the idea of himself, which is (I. xi. and Def. i.) the idea of his own cause: this is what we have (in V. xxxii. Coroll.) referred to as intellectual love.

PROP. XXXVI. The intellectual love of the mind towards God is that very love of God whereby God loves himself, not in so far as he is infinite, but in so far as he can be explained through the essence of the human mind regarded under the form of eternity; in other words, the intellectual love of the mind towards God is part of the infinite love wherewith God loves himself.

PROP. XXXVI. The intellectual love of the mind for God is the love that God has for Himself, not in terms of His infinity, but as it can be understood through the essence of the human mind viewed in the light of eternity; in other words, the intellectual love of the mind for God is a part of the infinite love with which God loves Himself.

Proof.—This love of the mind must be referred to the activities of the mind (V. xxxii. Coroll. and III. iii.); it is itself, indeed, an activity whereby the mind regards itself accompanied by the idea of God as cause (V. xxxii. and Coroll.); that is (I. xxv. Coroll. and II. xi. Coroll.), an activity whereby God, in so far as he can be explained through the human mind, regards himself accompanied by the idea of himself; therefore (by the last Prop.), this love of the mind is part of the infinite love wherewith God loves himself. Q.E.D.

Proof.—This love of the mind must be linked to the activities of the mind (V. xxxii. Coroll. and III. iii.); it is, in fact, an activity in which the mind considers itself along with the idea of God as its cause (V. xxxii. and Coroll.); that is (I. xxv. Coroll. and II. xi. Coroll.), an activity in which God, as much as he can be understood through the human mind, considers himself along with the idea of himself; therefore (by the last Prop.), this love of the mind is part of the infinite love with which God loves himself. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Hence it follows that God, in so far as he loves himself, loves man, and, consequently, that the love of God towards men, and the intellectual love of the mind towards God are identical.

Corollary.—Therefore, it follows that God, in as much as he loves himself, loves humans, and, consequently, that God's love for people and the intellectual love of the mind for God are the same.

Note.—From what has been said we clearly understand, wherein our salvation, or blessedness, or freedom, consists: namely, in the constant and eternal love towards God, or in God's love towards men. This love or blessedness is, in the Bible, called Glory, and not undeservedly. For whether this love be referred to God or to the mind, it may rightly be called acquiescence of spirit, which (Def. of the Emotions, xxv. xxx.) is not really distinguished from glory. In so far as it is referred to God, it is (V. xxxv.) pleasure, if we may still use that term, accompanied by the idea of itself, and, in so far as it is referred to the mind, it is the same (V. xxvii.).

Note.—From what has been discussed, we clearly understand what our salvation, happiness, or freedom consists of: namely, in the constant and eternal love towards God, or in God's love towards people. This love or blessing is referred to as Glory in the Bible, and rightly so. Whether this love pertains to God or to the mind, it can correctly be called peace of spirit, which (Def. of the Emotions, xxv. xxx.) is not really different from glory. As it relates to God, it is (V. xxxv.) pleasure, if we may still use that term, accompanied by self-awareness, and as it relates to the mind, it is the same (V. xxvii.).

Again, since the essence of our mind consists solely in knowledge, whereof the beginning and the foundation is God (I. xv., and II. xlvii. note), it becomes clear to us, in what manner and way our mind, as to its essence and existence, follows from the divine nature and constantly depends on God. I have thought it worth while here to call attention to this, in order to show by this example how the knowledge of particular things, which I have called intuitive or of the third kind (II. xl. note. ii.), is potent, and more powerful than the universal knowledge, which I have styled knowledge of the second kind. For, although in Part I. I showed in general terms, that all things (and consequently, also, the human mind) depend as to their essence and existence on God, yet that demonstration, though legitimate and placed beyond the chances of doubt, does not affect our mind so much, as when the same conclusion is derived from the actual essence of some particular thing, which we say depends on God.

Again, since the core of our mind is based entirely on knowledge, which starts and is rooted in God (I. xv., and II. xlvii. note), it’s clear how our mind, in terms of its essence and existence, stems from divine nature and always relies on God. I thought it was important to highlight this point to illustrate how the knowledge of specific things, which I’ve called intuitive or of the third kind (II. xl. note. ii.), is powerful and even more impactful than the universal knowledge, which I’ve referred to as knowledge of the second kind. Even though in Part I. I generally showed that all things (including the human mind) depend for their essence and existence on God, that demonstration, while valid and certain, doesn’t resonate with our mind as much as when the same conclusion is drawn from the actual essence of a specific thing that we claim depends on God.

PROP. XXXVII. There is nothing in nature, which is contrary to this intellectual love, or which can take it away.

PROP. XXXVII. There is nothing in nature that contradicts this intellectual love or that can remove it.

Proof.—This intellectual love follows necessarily from the nature of the mind, in so far as the latter is regarded through the nature of God as an eternal truth (V. xxxiii. and xxix.). If, therefore, there should be anything which would be contrary to this love, that thing would be contrary to that which is true; consequently, that, which should be able to take away this love, would cause that which is true to be false; an obvious absurdity. Therefore there is nothing in nature which, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—This kind of intellectual love naturally arises from the nature of the mind, as it relates to the nature of God as an eternal truth (V. xxxiii. and xxix.). If there were anything that contradicted this love, then that thing would contradict what is true. Therefore, anything that could eliminate this love would make what is true false, which is clearly absurd. So, there is nothing in nature that contradicts this. Q.E.D.

Note.—The Axiom of Part IV. has reference to particular things, in so far as they are regarded in relation to a given time and place: of this, I think, no one can doubt.

Note.—The Axiom of Part IV. relates to specific things as they are considered in connection with a particular time and place: I believe no one can dispute this.

PROP. XXXVIII. In proportion as the mind understands more things by the second and third kind of knowledge, it is less subject to those emotions which are evil, and stands in less fear of death.

PROP. XXXVIII. As the mind understands more through the second and third types of knowledge, it becomes less affected by negative emotions and fears death less.

Proof.—The mind's essence consists in knowledge (II. xi.); therefore, in proportion as the mind understands more things by the second and third kinds of knowledge, the greater will be the part of it that endures (V. xxix. and xxiii.), and, consequently (by the last Prop.), the greater will be the part that is not touched by the emotions, which are contrary to our nature, or in other words, evil (IV. xxx.). Thus, in proportion as the mind understands more things by the second and third kinds of knowledge, the greater will be the part of it, that remains unimpaired, and, consequently, less subject to emotions, &c. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The essence of the mind is knowledge (II. xi.); therefore, as the mind understands more concepts through the second and third types of knowledge, a larger part of it will endure (V. xxix. and xxiii.), and, as a result (by the last Prop.), a greater part will remain unaffected by emotions that go against our nature, or in other words, evil (IV. xxx.). Thus, as the mind comprehends more through the second and third kinds of knowledge, a larger part of it will stay intact, and therefore, will be less influenced by emotions, etc. Q.E.D.

Note.—Hence we understand that point which I touched on in IV. xxxix. note, and which I promised to explain in this Part; namely, that death becomes less hurtful, in proportion as the mind's clear and distinct knowledge is greater, and, consequently, in proportion as the mind loves God more. Again, since from the third kind of knowledge arises the highest possible acquiescence (V. xxvii.), it follows that the human mind can attain to being of such a nature, that the part thereof which we have shown to perish with the body (V. xxi.) should be of little importance when compared with the part which endures. But I will soon treat of the subject at greater length.

Note.—Here we understand the point I mentioned in IV. xxxix. note, which I promised to elaborate on in this Part; specifically, that death becomes less harmful as our clear and distinct understanding increases, and therefore, as our love for God grows stronger. Furthermore, since the highest form of contentment comes from the third type of knowledge (V. xxvii.), it follows that the human mind can reach a state where the part of it that we have shown to perish with the body (V. xxi.) becomes less significant compared to the part that endures. However, I will discuss this topic in more detail soon.

PROP. XXXIX. He, who possesses a body capable of the greatest number of activities, possesses a mind whereof the greatest part is eternal.

PROP. XXXIX. The person who has a body capable of the most activities has a mind where most of it is eternal.

Proof.—He, who possesses a body capable of the greatest number of activities, is least agitated by those emotions which are evil (IV. xxxviii.)—that is (IV. xxx.), by those emotions which are contrary to our nature; therefore (V. x.), he possesses the power of arranging and associating the modifications of the body according to the intellectual order, and, consequently, of bringing it about, that all the modifications of the body should be referred to the idea of God; whence it will come to pass that (V. xv.) he will be affected with love towards God, which (V. xvi.) must occupy or constitute the chief part of the mind; therefore (V. xxxiii.), such a man will possess a mind whereof the chief part is eternal. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The person who has a body capable of the most activities is least disturbed by negative emotions (IV. xxxviii.)—that is (IV. xxx.), by those feelings that go against our nature; therefore (V. x.), they have the ability to organize and connect the body’s changes according to intellectual order, which means they can ensure that all changes in the body relate to the idea of God; as a result, (V. xv.) this individual will feel love for God, which (V. xvi.) must be the main focus of the mind; therefore (V. xxxiii.), such a person will have a mind whose main part is eternal. Q.E.D.

Note.—Since human bodies are capable of the greatest number of activities, there is no doubt but that they may be of such a nature, that they may be referred to minds possessing a great knowledge of themselves and of God, and whereof the greatest or chief part is eternal, and, therefore, that they should scarcely fear death. But, in order that this may be understood more clearly, we must here call to mind, that we live in a state of perpetual variation, and, according as we are changed for the better or the worse, we are called happy or unhappy.

Note.—Since human bodies can perform a vast number of activities, there's no doubt that these activities can be associated with minds that have a deep understanding of themselves and of God, and the most important part of that understanding is eternal, so they should hardly fear death. However, to make this clearer, we need to remember that we live in a state of constant change, and depending on whether we change for the better or the worse, we are considered happy or unhappy.

For he, who, from being an infant or a child, becomes a corpse, is called unhappy; whereas it is set down to happiness, if we have been able to live through the whole period of life with a sound mind in a sound body. And, in reality, he, who, as in the case of an infant or a child, has a body capable of very few activities, and depending, for the most part, on external causes, has a mind which, considered in itself alone, is scarcely conscious of itself, or of God, or of things; whereas, he, who has a body capable of very many activities, has a mind which, considered in itself alone, is highly conscious of itself, of God, and of things. In this life, therefore, we primarily endeavour to bring it about, that the body of a child, in so far as its nature allows and conduces thereto, may be changed into something else capable of very many activities, and referable to a mind which is highly conscious of itself, of God, and of things; and we desire so to change it, that what is referred to its imagination and memory may become insignificant, in comparison with its intellect, as I have already said in the note to the last Proposition.

For someone who goes from being an infant or a child to becoming a corpse is considered unfortunate; on the other hand, it's regarded as happiness if we can live through our entire life with a sound mind and a healthy body. In reality, a person who, like an infant or a child, has a body that can do very few activities and relies mainly on external factors, possesses a mind that, considered on its own, is barely aware of itself, God, or other things. In contrast, someone with a body that can perform many activities has a mind that, in itself, is very aware of itself, God, and the world around them. Therefore, in this life, we mainly aim to transform the body of a child, as much as its nature allows, into something that can do many activities and is linked to a mind that is highly aware of itself, God, and things; and we hope to change it in such a way that what relates to its imagination and memory becomes trivial compared to its intellect, as I mentioned in the note to the last Proposition.

PROP. XL. In proportion as each thing possesses more of perfection, so is it more active, and less passive; and, vice versâ, in proportion as it is more active, so is it more perfect.

PROP. XL. The more perfection something has, the more active it is and less passive; conversely, the more active it is, the more perfect it becomes.

Proof.—In proportion as each thing is more perfect, it possesses more of reality (II. Def. vi.), and, consequently (III. iii. and note), it is to that extent more active and less passive. This demonstration may be reversed, and thus prove that, in proportion as a thing is more active, so is it more perfect. Q.E.D.

Proof.—As each thing becomes more perfect, it has more reality (II. Def. vi.), and, therefore (III. iii. and note), it is more active and less passive. This demonstration can be flipped around, showing that as a thing is more active, it is also more perfect. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—Hence it follows that the part of the mind which endures, be it great or small, is more perfect than the rest. For the eternal part of the mind (V. xxiii. xxix.) is the understanding, through which alone we are said to act (III. iii.); the part which we have shown to perish is the imagination (V. xxi.), through which only we are said to be passive (III. iii. and general Def. of the Emotions); therefore, the former, be it great or small, is more perfect than the latter. Q.E.D.

Corollary.—This means that the part of the mind that lasts, whether it's large or small, is more perfect than the other parts. The eternal part of the mind (V. xxiii. xxix.) is the understanding, which is the only part through which we can act (III. iii.); the part we've shown to fade away is the imagination (V. xxi.), which is the only part that makes us passive (III. iii. and general Def. of the Emotions); therefore, the former, regardless of its size, is more perfect than the latter. Q.E.D.

Note.—Such are the doctrines which I had purposed to set forth concerning the mind, in so far as it is regarded without relation to the body; whence, as also from I. xxi. and other places, it is plain that our mind, in so far as it understands, is an eternal mode of thinking, which is determined by another eternal mode of thinking, and this other by a third, and so on to infinity; so that all taken together at once constitute the eternal and infinite intellect of God.

Note.—These are the ideas I intended to present about the mind, as it is considered apart from the body; from this, as well as from I. xxi. and other sections, it is clear that our mind, in its capacity to understand, is an eternal way of thinking that is influenced by another eternal way of thinking, and that way by a third, and so on infinitely; so that all of these together form the eternal and infinite intellect of God.

PROP. XLI. Even if we did not know that our mind is eternal, we should still consider as of primary importance piety and religion, and generally all things which, in Part IV., we showed to be attributable to courage and high—mindedness.

PROP. XLI. Even if we didn’t know that our mind is eternal, we should still regard piety and religion as essential, along with everything we discussed in Part IV. that relates to courage and nobility.

Proof.—The first and only foundation of virtue, or the rule of right living is (IV. xxii. Coroll. and xxiv.) seeking one's own true interest. Now, while we determined what reason prescribes as useful, we took no account of the mind's eternity, which has only become known to us in this Fifth Part. Although we were ignorant at that time that the mind is eternal, we nevertheless stated that the qualities attributable to courage and high—mindedness are of primary importance. Therefore, even if we were still ignorant of this doctrine, we should yet put the aforesaid precepts of reason in the first place. Q.E.D.

Proof.—The only real foundation of virtue or the principle of right living is (IV. xxii. Coroll. and xxiv.) pursuing one's true interests. While we determined what reason suggests as beneficial, we didn’t consider the eternity of the mind, which we've only understood in this Fifth Part. Even though we were unaware at that time that the mind is eternal, we still asserted that the qualities associated with courage and nobility are of utmost importance. Therefore, even if we were still unaware of this idea, we would still prioritize the aforementioned principles of reason. Q.E.D.

Note.—The general belief of the multitude seems to be different. Most people seem to believe that they are free, in so far as they may obey their lusts, and that they cede their rights, in so far as they are bound to live according to the commandments of the divine law. They therefore believe that piety, religion, and, generally, all things attributable to firmness of mind, are burdens, which, after death, they hope to lay aside, and to receive the reward for their bondage, that is, for their piety and religion; it is not only by this hope, but also, and chiefly, by the fear of being horribly punished after death, that they are induced to live according to the divine commandments, so far as their feeble and infirm spirit will carry them.

Note.—The general belief among the masses seems to be different. Most people appear to think they are free as long as they can follow their desires, but they give up their rights because they feel obligated to live by the rules of divine law. They believe that piety, religion, and, in general, anything requiring mental strength are just burdens they hope to shed after death, expecting to be rewarded for their compliance, that is, for their piety and religion. They are motivated not only by this hope but also, mainly, by the fear of facing terrible punishment after death, which pushes them to live according to divine commandments, as much as their weak and fragile spirit allows.

If men had not this hope and this fear, but believed that the mind perishes with the body, and that no hope of prolonged life remains for the wretches who are broken down with the burden of piety, they would return to their own inclinations, controlling everything in accordance with their lusts, and desiring to obey fortune rather than themselves. Such a course appears to me not less absurd than if a man, because he does not believe that he can by wholesome food sustain his body for ever, should wish to cram himself with poisons and deadly fare; or if, because he sees that the mind is not eternal or immortal, he should prefer to be out of his mind altogether, and to live without the use of reason; these ideas are so absurd as to be scarcely worth refuting.

If people didn’t have this hope and fear, but instead thought that the mind dies with the body and that there's no hope for a longer life for those weighed down by piety, they would give in to their own desires, controlling everything based on their lusts, and choosing to follow luck rather than themselves. This idea seems to me just as ridiculous as someone thinking that because they don’t believe they can live forever on healthy food, they should stuff themselves with poison and toxic meals; or if, because they see that the mind isn’t eternal or immortal, they would rather lose their minds entirely and live without reason. These concepts are so absurd that they hardly deserve a response.

PROP. XLII. Blessedness is not the reward of virtue, but virtue itself; neither do we rejoice therein, because we control our lusts, but, contrariwise, because we rejoice therein, we are able to control our lusts.

PROP. XLII. Blessedness isn't the reward for being virtuous; it is virtue itself. We don't find joy in controlling our desires; rather, it's because we find joy that we can control our desires.

Proof.—Blessedness consists in love towards God (V. xxxvi and note), which love springs from the third kind of knowledge (V. xxxii. Coroll.); therefore this love (III. iii. lix.) must be referred to the mind, in so far as the latter is active; therefore (IV. Def. viii.) it is virtue itself. This was our first point. Again, in proportion as the mind rejoices more in this divine love or blessedness, so does it the more understand (V. xxxii.); that is (V. iii. Coroll.), so much the more power has it over the emotions, and (V. xxxviii.) so much the less is it subject to those emotions which are evil; therefore, in proportion as the mind rejoices in this divine love or blessedness, so has it the power of controlling lusts. And, since human power in controlling the emotions consists solely in the understanding, it follows that no one rejoices in blessedness, because he has controlled his lusts, but, contrariwise, his power of controlling his lusts arises from this blessedness itself. Q.E.D.

Proof.—Blessedness is found in love towards God (V. xxxvi and note), which comes from the third type of knowledge (V. xxxii. Coroll.); therefore, this love (III. iii. lix.) must be attributed to the mind, as long as the mind is active; thus (IV. Def. viii.) it is virtue itself. This was our first point. Moreover, the more the mind delights in this divine love or blessedness, the better it understands (V. xxxii.); that is to say (V. iii. Coroll.), the more power it has over emotions, and (V. xxxviii.) the less it is subject to negative emotions; therefore, as the mind takes joy in this divine love or blessedness, it gains the ability to control desires. And, since human power to manage emotions relies solely on understanding, it follows that no one finds joy in blessedness because they have controlled their desires; rather, their ability to control desires comes from this very blessedness. Q.E.D.

Note.—I have thus completed all I wished to set forth touching the mind's power over the emotions and the mind's freedom. Whence it appears, how potent is the wise man, and how much he surpasses the ignorant man, who is driven only by his lusts. For the ignorant man is not only distracted in various ways by external causes without ever gaining the true acquiescence of his spirit, but moreover lives, as it were unwitting of himself, and of God, and of things, and as soon as he ceases to suffer, ceases also to be.

Note.—I have now shared everything I wanted to regarding the mind's influence over emotions and the mind's freedom. From this, it becomes clear how powerful the wise person is and how much they outshine the ignorant person, who is only motivated by their desires. The ignorant person is not only pulled in many directions by outside factors without ever finding true peace in their spirit, but they also live, so to speak, unaware of themselves, of God, and of the world. As soon as they stop suffering, they stop existing as well.

Whereas the wise man, in so far as he is regarded as such, is scarcely at all disturbed in spirit, but, being conscious of himself, and of God, and of things, by a certain eternal necessity, never ceases to be, but always possesses true acquiescence of his spirit.

The wise person, as they are seen, is hardly ever troubled in spirit. They are self-aware and aware of God and the world around them. Because of this deep understanding, they never stop being; they consistently have a true sense of peace in their spirit.

If the way which I have pointed out as leading to this result seems exceedingly hard, it may nevertheless be discovered. Needs must it be hard, since it is so seldom found. How would it be possible, if salvation were ready to our hand, and could without great labour be found, that it should be by almost all men neglected? But all things excellent are as difficult as they are rare.

If the path I've suggested to achieve this outcome seems really difficult, it can still be found. It has to be tough, since it's so rarely discovered. How could it be possible that if salvation were easily accessible and could be found without much effort, almost everyone would ignore it? But all remarkable things are as challenging as they are uncommon.



End of the Ethics by Benedict de Spinoza

End of the Ethics by Benedict de Spinoza


[1] "Affectiones"

"Feelings"

[2] "Forma"

"Form"

[3] "Animata"

"Animata"

[4] A Baconian phrase. Nov. Org. Aph. 100. [Pollock, p. 126, n.]

[4] A Baconian phrase. Nov. Org. Aph. 100. [Pollock, p. 126, n.]

[5] Conscientiæ morsus—thus rendered by Mr. Pollock.

[5] Conscience's sting—this is how Mr. Pollock translates it.

[6] By "men" in this and the following propositions, I mean men whom we regard without any particular emotion.

[6] By "men" in this and the following statements, I mean men that we see without any specific feelings.

[7] So Van Vloten and Bruder. The Dutch version and Camerer read, "an internal cause." "Honor" = Gloria.

[7] So Van Vloten and Bruder. The Dutch version and Camerer read, "an internal cause." "Honor" = Glory.

[8] See previous endnote.

See earlier footnote.

[9] Ovid, "Amores," II. xix. 4,5. Spinoza transposes the verses.

"Speremus pariter, pariter metuamus amantes;


Ferreus est, si quis, quod sinit alter, amat."

[9] Ovid, "Amores," II. xix. 4,5. Spinoza transposes the verses.

"Let’s hope together, and let’s fear together, lovers;

He’s cruel if he loves what the other allows."

[10] This is possible, though the human mind is part of the divine intellect, as I have shown in II. xiii. note.

[10] This is possible, even though the human mind is a part of the divine intellect, as I've shown in II. xiii. note.

[11] Gloria.

Gloria.

[12] Ov. Met. vii.20, "Video meliora proboque, Deteriora sequor."

[12] Ov. Met. vii.20, "I see better things and approve of them, but I follow worse ones."

[13] Honestas

Integrity

[14] Land reads: "Quod ipsius agendi potentia juvatur"—which I have translated above. He suggests as alternative readings to 'quod', 'quo' (= whereby) and 'quodque' (= and that).

[14] Land reads: "Quod ipsius agendi potentia juvatur"—which I have translated above. He proposes alternative translations for 'quod' as 'quo' (= whereby) and 'quodque' (= and that).

[15] "Maltim praesens minus prae majori futuro." (Van Vloten). Bruder reads: "Malum praesens minus, quod causa est faturi alicujus mali." The last word of the latter is an obvious misprint, and is corrected by the Dutch translator into "majoris boni." (Pollock, p. 268, note.)

[15] "The present evil is less than the greater future." (Van Vloten). Bruder reads: "The present evil is less, which is the cause of some future evil." The last word in that version is clearly a mistake and is corrected by the Dutch translator to "greater good." (Pollock, p. 268, note.)

[16] Continuo. Rendered "constantly" by Mr. Pollock on the ground that the classical meaning of the word does not suit the context. I venture to think, however, that a tolerable sense may be obtained without doing violence to Spinoza's scholarship.

[16] Continuo. Rendered "constantly" by Mr. Pollock because the classical meaning of the word doesn't fit the context. I believe, though, that we can find an acceptable interpretation without compromising Spinoza's scholarship.

[17] Affectiones. Camerer reads affectus——emotions.

Affections. Camerer reads emotions.






Download ePUB

If you like this ebook, consider a donation!